In going through and packing up some books, I found a journal that I kept for a whole week when I was in nursing school. It was the first week of the spring semester my first year. Here is what I wrote the night before my first clinical day of med/surg and the day after.
January 10
We had orientation for clinicals today at VCSF (“back then” our orientation was a whole day). I’m going to be doing good if I don’t get lost! That hospital is so crazy. Maybe it just seems that way because Verda took us up every back stairwell she could think of because it was a “short cut”. I’m sure I’m going to end up on the wrong floor looking like an idiot. It was a long day and I’m sure tomorrow will be longer.
I tried to get caught up on some laundry today, it’s so hard to keep things going when I’m so busy with school. We actually have some clean bath towels! I think Kerry was surprised. I should’ve been working on my presentation for post conference tomorrow. I have to present it to the whole class and I don’t want to look stupid.
I’m a little nervous about tomorrow. I get the strong feeling we’re going to be thrown to the wolves. Verda doesn’t seem as “over bearing” as G was, so I don’t think she’ll hover as much. I think that might be scary. I just hope the nurses on the floor are receptive to us being there. The nurses at RS weren’t happy to see us and we felt like we were in the way a lot. I hope it’s different at VCSF. Blech. I should go to bed…I feel sick.
January 11
We had clinicals this morning. I got up at 4:45am to get ready to be at the hospital by 6:30. I am sooo not a morning person. Thank goodness I remembered to switch my scrubs to the dryer or I would have had a lousy start to the day. I think our whole class was a little nervous to start with. I know I was! We were spread out on 3 different floors. Verda gave us our room numbers and the kind of surgery our patient had. That was it. I had a colostomy patient. I thought I would be doing wound and stoma care all day…I felt sick to my stomach this is totally not something I wanted to mess up and I was afraid I was going to feel like a ding dong all day. My nurse told me they had a stoma team for stuff like that and I think I could have hugged her I was so relieved.
My patient threw up all morning and I spent my morning, instead, worrying about him losing staples or trying really hard not to puke myself. Barf is NOT my thing. And then the best part of the whole morning, was right after my patient got his breakfast and he barfed and then coded. Seriously! My first day of clinical and my patient codes, when I was in the room with him…by myself. My first thought wasn’t “ABC” like it should have been…it was “oh my goodness I’m going to fail”. After the code team got in the room I came out to stand in the hallway. Verda wasn’t on the floor so she didn’t know. I walk out and my classmates are all standing there like “are you okay?”. I asked one of them to call Verda. She came down, put her hand and my shoulder and told me to get my butt in the room, that was my patient. I think I could have melted into the floor. Then she announced to the whole room full of nurses and doctors that I was the nursing student and I needed experience. Like the red sea they all parted and the doc running the code told me to keep doing chest compressions. Never ever have I wanted so badly to not be in a situation. I felt like everyone was watching me and all I could think was “if this guy doesn’t make it…I’m so going to fail…” He didn’t make it. I fully expect a call from the department chair tomorrow to discuss my “progress” in the program. I have no idea what happened the rest of today, it’s pretty much a blur, other than I had to be with the chaplain when we talked to his daughter and that I did post mortem care (I’ll bet I’m the only one who gets that one checked off on the first day of clinicals). If Verda wanted to make sure I got the “full” experience…I did. Sheesh.
I was really sorry I carpooled today. All I wanted to do was get in and bawl my eyes out, but I didn’t want my classmates to think I was a wuss so I didn’t. But the minute I got to my car I cried like a baby. Kerry was very nice about the whole thing and is sure I didn’t kill him and that I’m not done with nursing school. I know I didn’t kill him (he aspirated and had a heart attack), but I’m pretty sure I’m done. I guess I can always fall back on being a waitress. I think I’m going to be sick.
January 12
Didn’t get kicked out today. Holding my breath for tomorrow. I guess I should work on my care plan.
Month: May 2012
Why?
That’s really the big question in all of this isn’t it? Why did it happen? Twice? To us? Why would a loving God let something so horrible happen?
Here is what I’ve come up with as I’ve tried to answer this question for myself.
First of all, it isn’t His fault. It is easy to blame Him for the bad things that happen, but truthfully when we blame God we are blaming a perfect and holy God who created a perfect and holy world for the unholy and sinful things we have done. When God created the world, it was perfect, it was sinless and it was beautiful. In fact, God says it was “very good” (Genesis 1:31). But it didn’t stay that way. Adam and Eve chose to disobey God and follow the advice of Satan. Because we are all part of Adam’s race, we have been living with the consequences of his disobedience.The moment that sin happened, perfection became imperfection and “good” was replaced with “not so good”. Adam moved away from God’s perfection and took all of us with him.
But praise God that we have a way to be redeemed! The cool thing about it is that when we trust that Jesus Christ died on the cross for our sins, paying that penalty we’re brought into a relationship with God better than the one Adam had! My husband preached a sermon on this very topic several weeks ago in Romans. You can listen to it here.
The truth is Satan is a thief (John 10:10 “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly). That’s his strategy, to steal the good and joy that God created, replacing it instead with false promises and destruction. Jesus rescued us from all of that by paying the penalty for our sins (Romans 5:6-8 For while we were still helpless, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. 7 For one will hardly die for a righteous man; though perhaps for the good man someone would dare even to die. 8 But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.) We still have hurt and pain because we’re still living in a fallen and sinful world. We know that God will win the war, but there is still a battle going on here on earth, we still live on an earth where the enemy has freedom.
So really, this whole thing happened because we live in a sinful and fallen world. That’s the big picture answer, but to be honest as a grieving mother that didn’t bring me much comfort. It seems too easy, not personal enough. I want to know why this happened to me.
I have decided and am still learning about why I have lost 2 children within 6 months, why I have been dealt this horrible blow to my “mommy ego” and my ability to carry a pregnancy. One of the reasons, I think, is reflected in 1 Peter 1: 6-7. “6 In this you greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials, 7 so that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold which is perishable, even though tested by fire, may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ;”
God’s goal for my life isn’t for me to be without trial, easy going, nothing touches me. His goal for my life is that He will be reflected, I will become like Him in character and heart. God uses the pain and the hurt I have encountered to refine my character. To teach me grace, forgiveness, compassion, endurance and to develop a heart like His. In doing so, His work is able to be reflected in my life. It is to bring Him glory, not me. God is not the cause of my pain, He is not the orchestrator of my hurt, those things come from living in a sinful world. But He uses those things to bring about change in my life, in my heart, in my soul. He uses them for His purpose.
Do I know what that purpose is? Nope. I know that it will bring Him glory. I don’t know what big lesson I’m supposed to learn or what I’m supposed to do if anything other than be humble and be ready. My prayer since the loss of Lily is different from my prayer after Knox died. When Knox died I prayed desperately for the hurt to be taken away, I prayed that I would be able to have another child, I prayed that it wouldn’t happen again. My prayer this time has simply been “use me”. I want to continually be in a place where I can be used by God. I have prayed that God would use this experience, this grief, the lives of my children in Heaven to bring Him glory and that I would be ready, humble and obedient to do what He asks of me.
That is why this has happened.
I am not strong
I am just like you. Going through the loss of our son Knox in December and Lily this last weekend does not make me strong. It makes me reliant on God.
The loss of my children has brought me to my knees. It has shaken the very core of who I am in some respects and has made me question why God allowed this to happen to our family. Before I lost my children, I felt sorry for women who experienced loss and wondered how they were even upright and talking. I couldn’t imagine what that mourning must be like and I was sure I could never endure it. When Knox died that little wall of safety during pregnancy came crashing down and completely shocked me. I grieved not only the loss of my child, but the loss of my security too.
When Lily died, I wasn’t naive enough to believe that there was that magical “safe” point in my pregnancy. I knew it could happen. But it doesn’t make the hurt any less. I still grieve the loss of my child, the rest of my pregnancy, her birth and watching her grow up. I grieve the loss of inhaling deep the smell of a new life, cuddling that tiny warm body and staring in awe at her beautiful face while she sleeps. In my selfishness, I even grieve the fact that I have spent about 6 months in the first trimester…the morning sickness, the food aversions, the just feeling rotten and I have nothing to show for it except the ashes of my children. It isn’t fair, I don’t understand it and I grieve.
The loss though, and my ability to endure it has nothing to do with me.
I am weak.
I have moments where I just don’t think I can go on. I get so angry at the unfairness of it all. I have struggled with bitterness towards women who got to have babies they didn’t want and complained about when they got pregnant. I have struggled with bitterness towards the joy of others. I am ashamed to say how many times I have wanted someone to hurt just as bad as I have. But my mourning shouldn’t take away someone else’s joy. My grief is my journey. It is a journey I am on as a mother, but I am not alone.
The loss of my children has brought me to the point where I realize there is no one left for me to rely on but God. Only God can share my grief, only God can help me reconcile my feelings and forgive. Only God can give me the strength to take one step after another. No one else. Not Kerry, with all his leadership, love and compassion can identify with what I feel down deep inside. Not my children or future pregnancies will redeem the feelings of bitterness and anger I have felt. Only God.
Psalm 121: 1-4
1 I will lift up my eyes to the mountains;
From where shall my help come?
2 My help comes from the Lord,
Who made heaven and earth.
3 He will not allow your foot to slip;
He who keeps you will not slumber.
4 Behold, He who keeps Israel
Will neither slumber nor sleep.
My reliance on God is the only thing that has allowed me to continue on this journey. The help from my God, is what enables me to wake up every morning without crumbling under the tremendous weight of my grief.
Jesus has conquered the pain of this world. Because we still live in a fallen world full of sin, we still experience the pain and grief of losing loved ones. BUT…Jesus has conquered the world and all the pain in it. We may not experience freedom from that pain in this life, but we will certainly experience it when we die if we trust in Christ as our Lord and Savior.
John 16:33
33 These things I have spoken to you, so that in Me you may have peace. In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world.”
We will have tribulation, but we are to be courageous, we are to be peaceful because Jesus has overcome this world. That is where my hope comes from, that is where I draw strength to move from day to day. I still hurt, I still get angry, but I give those feelings to God. I ask for His strength. Not strength to make it through the month, the week or even the day. I ask for the strength I need to make it through the next hour, sometimes the next minute or next conversation. And He delivers. He doesn’t often give me more than what I need, but He never gives me less than what I need.
Psalm 16: 1-2
1 Preserve me, O God, for I take refuge in You.
2 I said to the Lord, “You are my Lord;
I have no good besides You.”
I choose to walk daily trusting in God for the strength I need. God has a purpose for these challenges, I know that He is using this journey to make me into the woman He wants me to be. I surrender daily to His will, even if I don’t understand. It is His strength, not mine that allows me to make that choice and move forward one step at a time.
Journal entry for 5/18/12
This is the journal entry I made on Friday night. I’m still trying to find the right words to describe what I’m feeling this time. It feels, in a way, familiar yet so very different.
May 18, 2012
It is so hard to believe this is happening again. I don’t feel as shocked, but I still feel heartbroken and wonder why. But the shock has been replaced by numb this time. With Knox, we were so floored by the loss of a child. It was such a gut check. We’d had 4 healthy boys, although we’d had early losses, it came as such as shock to lose a baby at 15 weeks. When we got pregnant this time we were surprised but delighted. Our delight though, was slightly tainted because we knew that there was no “safe” time during a pregnancy. I was just starting to really let myself hope when we went for our first appointment with Dr. Growney. When we saw a heartbeat I was so happy I cried.
But…
I knew something was wrong. I could tell by what wasn’t being said by the sonographer. I hoped I was wrong. Until I got a call from my doctor setting up an appointment with maternal fetal medicine. But I still hoped. I hoped that it would be unnecessary and that our baby would be fine. While I was concerned about the CVS, I was peaceful that day. Even more hopeful because the NT measurement was down, there was no other edema and our baby looked “good”. I allowed myself to really hope and fall in love with the tiny profile image from the sonogram. I began to dream what the future might hold for our little one.
For 3 days.
When our results came back with Turner syndrome 3 days later I was shocked. A long shot at survival. 1% to be exact. But I still hoped, despite the genetic counselor’s dire outlook. Surely! Surely! We would not be asked to go down through the loss of another child in our second trimester. Surely, this baby would survive. But over the course of 4 days (from results to today), our baby died.
We heard her heartbeat for the last time on Tuesday morning before Kerry left for work. It was gone by Wednesday and today I sat with my doctor staring at her silent chest on a sonogram machine.
My hopes for a live birth, a normal birth, a redemptive birth were gone. I sit here tonight numb, disappointed and confused. Emotionally exhausted from the rollercoaster we’ve been on. Stunned a bit at the irony of it all. Today was Knox’s due date, today was the day we found out his sister died as well.
I don’t understand. I mourn this loss. I know have just as many children in heaven as I do here on earth. I have mourned the loss of as many children as I have rejoiced in their first cries. It seems so wrong and unfair. I don’t know why we’re here again. I was so hopeful for this baby, this pregnancy and this birth. My hope though, is due elsewhere. My hope must be in Christ. It is my God that I have to rely on, hope in and trust. What other choice do I have?
My peace and my hope can’t be based on my circumstances, my pregnancy, or the life of my child. My peace and hope must come from the person of Jesus and His presences in the midst of my pain and my grief. Afterall, He conquered it already on the cross.
Romans 1:17
17 For in it the righteousness of God is revealed from faith to faith; as it is written, “But the righteous man shall live by faith.”
Lily's Birth Story
On Friday May 18, I went to the doctor to have baby Lillian’s heart beat checked because May 18 was the day Knox would have been due and I was anxious. Kerry took the boys to the park so they wouldn’t have to wait in the waiting room and because it was a beautiful morning. I was hoping that it would be a quick in and out trip, my fears would be relieved and we would go on and enjoy the day as a family. In my gut though, I had a feeling that I was going down a road I had been on before. A road I didn’t want to be on again.
The nurse practitioner saw me and tried to remain upbeat while she searched and searched for a heart beat. I knew that when she didn’t hear them within a few moments that we wouldn’t be hearing it at all. Dr. G took me for a sonogram and we both anxiously watched the screen. We could see our little baby moving, but only with my heart beat. There was no spontaneous movement on her part and her chest was silent. I think we were both heart broken. I am so thankful that he printed some pictures for us. I really feel thankful for the physician that I have, and it’s only the loss of Knox that ever brought me in to him as a patient. I can’t put into words how grateful I am for what and how he spoke to me that afternoon. It wasn’t just that he was sorry, but he too, was deeply grieved for us. I know that he genuinely cared for me and my husband not as patients but as people.
We were given options about when and how to give birth, Kerry and I elected to go in on Saturday for an induction. Dr. G was going to be out of town, which was my only hesitation, but he assured me the doctor who was covering for him was wonderful and would take good care of us. Indeed he did.
On Saturday morning, we took the same walk we took when we were admitted with Knox. The same admission clerk checked me in and I was in the same room where he was born. I held it together fairly well on that walk past the nursery and to the nurse’s station, until I heard a fetal monitor and a mother being coached to push her baby into this world. I wanted to tell her how blessed she was, how much she should hold that child and just cherish the moments she had, instead I cried and quietly told the nurses who I was and why I was there.
The admission process was pretty much the same, vital signs, IV, orientation to the room and plan of care for the day. My nurses were caring and kind, something that was a bit lacking the last time we were there.
My day nurse called the doctor on call for Dr. G and asked him to come in so we could meet him. He was very nice and although he talked quickly was willing to listen to what we were saying and what our experience was. He was a believer and that was important to us. We talked about things we would do in an effort to avoid going to the OR again this time.
And then we waited. I waited for the medicine (cytotec) to work, I waited for the hours to pass, I waited for the inevitable. My mind telling me that it was okay this (the labor) was happening, it needed to happen, but my heart was so resistant. No matter how much I tried to relax and let the contractions come and wash over me, I could feel deep down my body resisting because no matter how much this “needed” to happen, it shouldn’t.
My labor was similar to that with Knox, but my progress seemed slow. Around 4:30pm my water broke and I thought that things would move a little faster now. But instead, they seemed to slow down and even move backwards. The contractions didn’t worsen, the medication didn’t seem to have the same effect and still my body fought. I tried talking to myself, I tried talking to Kerry about it, I tried to emotionally process it all, but there was resistance and it’s still hard for me to pinpoint it. It came from somewhere I couldn’t reach with my mind (I realize this sounds a little new agey, but it’s the only way I can describe it). No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t let myself accept this was happening. My nurses commented that my cervix seemed to be moving up instead of down, that it would come down a bit one time and the next time it would be further up and almost moving backward.
I was discouraged and exhausted by the time my next dose of medication was due at 10pm. The Dr. K had written orders to stop the induction and wait until morning to resume the medication again. I felt defeated, but I didn’t know what else to do. I don’t know what it was about that plan, but it seemed to accelerate my labor. I don’t know if it was the fear that this labor was going to go on forever and that I would be locked in this battle with myself all night or that I just wanted so desperately to be out of this waiting stage, but things started to happen. The nurse brought in some medication to help me sleep, but I had a feeling I shouldn’t take it.
I got up to go to the bathroom one last time before we settled for night and there was a little more bleeding. I mentioned to the nurse that this is kind of what happened before Knox was born, but my cervix was the same and nothing “seemed” to be changing. She had another nurse come in and check the bleeding, but since it wasn’t significant, we decided to keep an eye on things. I don’t know if they called Dr. K to let him know about the change. I told my night nurse I was going to eat a little pudding and then take the medicine and go to bed. I could only eat about 2 bites and lost my appetite. I shifted my weight in bed and our daughter was born. Just Kerry and I were in the room, it was surprising to me and I was a little shaken up, I wasn’t prepared for it to happen that way. Lillian Faith was born at 10:40pm, she weighed 2.5 oz and 4 1/2 inches long.
I called my nurse, who handled things very well although I was her first “demise” patient (I found that out later). There was another nurse who stepped in for a few minutes, but left pretty quickly afterward. I heard her say “I have to step out”, but I could tell she was bothered by what she was seeing and what was going on. I found out later she was about 8 weeks pregnant and it was understandably emotionally difficult for her to be there. We were able to hold Lily and take pictures. I didn’t get to hold her or sit up as much as I did after Knox was born because I was bleeding a little more, but I’m thankful for the time I did get to spend with her.
One thing that was so striking to us was how much smaller she was. Knox died at 15 weeks, Lily died at 14 weeks. But she looked so much smaller. Her fingers and toes were delicately formed. We could see the tiny ribs, her nose, her little calf muscles that were perfectly formed. It is astounding the perfection of such a tiny body, the creation and handiwork of a great and mighty God. As grieved as we were, and are, we couldn’t help but be in awe of the creation we were holding in our hands.
Dr. K came in and we tried to get the placenta to come. It was painful and it didn’t work. Around midnight my bleeding had increased enough to be concerning and the doctor felt it would be best to go to the OR to avoid a repeat of my stay with Knox (ie blood transfusion, very low blood counts etc). I was disappointed, we only had an hour and a half with our daughter. It felt like minutes and it was hard for me to leave knowing that I wouldn’t be holding her again. Kerry prayed with me before I left. I have been thankful many times over for his spiritual leadership and sheparding during this time.
Dr. K stood with me and talked with me before I went into the OR, after they gave me preop meds I don’t remember much about the actual procedure. They hadn’t given those to be before Knox, so I remember everything until I went under with him. My doctor tells me that there was quite a bit of bleeding we hadn’t seen, so much that even the everyone was a bit surprised my vital signs had remained so stable, but the procedure itself went well. I didn’t lose as much blood as last time and I didn’t need a blood transfusion.
I got back to my room around 2:30 in the morning and we didn’t get much sleep that night. Hospitals aren’t known to be places of rest, there were lab draws, medications, blood pressures and IVs to change. Morning came and I was so thankful to eat breakfast!
I was incredibly sore and very tired on Sunday. Because of the things we had done to try to get the placenta to be born and some complications with bleeding afterward and the subsequent interventions to stop the bleeding, my abdomen was very tender to the touch. I hadn’t taken pain medications after Knox was born, but felt I needed them this time. My doctor didn’t want me to go home because there was some packing to prevent bleeding and he wanted it to stay in for 18 -24 hours. He consented though, if my labs remained normal(ish) and I wasn’t symptomatic (dizzy when getting up) that I could go home around supper time.
We had the same day shift nurse on Sunday as we had the day before and she asked if she could see pictures of Lily and sat with us for a little while in the afternoon. I appreciated my nursing care this stay as it was very different from last time.
Physically I’m doing okay. I’m not as tired or weak as I was after Knox was born. I’m sleeping better, which I’m thankful for. Emotionally the grief is different this time, I’m not totally sure why. I still feel numb and it’s difficult for me to formulate completely coherent thoughts, but I don’t quite feel the same hole in my gut as I did last time. I’m working on trying to put just why into words still, but I do think it has something to do with the lack of shock this time. The grief, though, is still very real.
Kerry and I have talked a lot about trusting that God is still good and that all things He does work together for the good of those who love Him. Romans 8:28 “And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.” Sometimes we have to know things even if we don’t totally feel them. It’s hard for me to see that good can come from losing a second child in 6 months. It’s hard for me to understand, but I know that God is faithful and I know that He has a purpose for bringing us down this road again.
Psalm 139: 13-16
13 For You formed my inward parts;
You wove me in my mother’s womb.
14 I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Wonderful are Your works,
And my soul knows it very well.
15 My frame was not hidden from You,
When I was made in secret,
And skillfully wrought in the depths of the earth;
16 Your eyes have seen my unformed substance;
And in Your book were all written
The days that were ordained for me,
When as yet there was not one of them.
Adorable high heel cupcakes
A friend made these for her daughter’s birthday treats at school. I think they’re adorable. I asked for her permission to share them here so you could see them too.
I think if I were to make them for our family, I’d have to make them into camo hunting boots or something since I’m the only one who wears heels around here.
This is the top view.
The side view. The bottom (toe part) of the heel is the actual cupcake. How cute!
Thank you Lisa for letting me share!!
May 18, 2012
Today is a significant day. Today was the day Knox was due. Today is also the day we found out our daughter Lillian Faith has died.
We have been praying for her from before her conception. We prayed fervently for her life, her growth and her soul. This week we were told she had a chromosomal defect called Turner Syndrome, meaning she was missing a sex chromosome. 99% of the babies with Turner syndrome die before they reach term. We were praying our daughter was in the 1% who survive.
We were hopeful because she wasn’t showing signs of distress, such as fluid build up around her organs or in her brain and she didn’t seem to have heart dysrhythmias. We heard her heartbeat for the last time on Tuesday morning when Kerry and I listened together before he went to work.
I have “had a feeling” the last 2 days that something was amiss, but I dismissed it as paranoia and anxiety because I was approaching the same time in my pregnancy when I lost Knox. My very understanding doctor said I could come in any time to have heart tones checked and check on baby. I went in this morning while Kerry took the boys to the park.
We searched for the heart beat with the doppler initially and when we didn’t find it, we did a sonogram. There was our perfect baby, her only movement was with my pulse and no heart beat. My heart is broken. I feel so numb, so wronged and so empty.
We have elected to have an induction tomorrow morning. I could have surgery instead, but I want the opportunity to hold my daughter. I want the option to look on her face and not just an outline from a sonogram. My heart needs that. We ask for prayers for a quick, safe and uncomplicated birth. My birth with Knox was fraught with complications after he was born and I would like to avoid that again. I am also praying for compassionate nurses.
We don’t know medically why Knox died. We didn’t have chromosome studies (as we already had 4 healthy boys) and there was nothing obviously wrong after he was born. We know medically why Lillian has died, but it doesn’t make it easier. We don’t know why God has taken either of them, why we are walking through such sorrow. We don’t know any of it. But we have to trust that He has a purpose. I may not know it for years, I may never know why. But I believe God has a purpose. I believe that He knew the outcome of this pregnancy from the moment He created it, when He was knitting our daughter together in my womb.
My grief is deep, my pain is intense. I get angry at the injustice of it all. I am jealous of the mothers who will get to hold their babies today, while I will sit with empty arms for a second time in 6 months. It seems unfair, it seems cruel, it seems so very wrong. But we believe that God is faithful, we believe that He loves us and the children He has created. We believe that He will carry us through and give us strength.
I am reminded after Job suffered terrible losses of family and property. Job 1 20-22
20 Then Job arose and tore his robe and shaved his head, and he fell to the ground and worshiped. 21 He said,
“ Naked I came from my mother’s womb,
And naked I shall return there.
The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away.
Blessed be the name of the Lord.”
And naked I shall return there.
The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away.
Blessed be the name of the Lord.”
22 Through all this Job did not sin nor did he blame God.
Scattered
Very little of what I’m thinking and feelings seems like it can be put into a cohesive thought today. I find myself oscillating between grief and joy, fear and peace, being “okay” and crumbling in despair. I can’t quite make sense of it all and instead I’ve scribbled one liner thoughts today. I want to flesh them out a bit and make them make sense. To explore them and find out where they go in my mind. So instead, I’ll share some of the verses I’ve been reading and meditating on the last few days.
Psalm 18 : 30-31
30 As for God, His way is blameless;
The word of the Lord is tried;
He is a shield to all who take refuge in Him.
31 For who is God, but the Lord?
And who is a rock, except our God.
Psalm 13:5-6
5 But I have trusted in Your lovingkindness;
My heart shall rejoice in Your salvation.
6 I will sing to the Lord,
Because He has dealt bountifully with me.
Lamentations 3:19-26
19 Remember my affliction and my wandering, the wormwood and bitterness.
20 Surely my soul remembers
And is bowed down within me.
21 This I recall to my mind,
Therefore I have hope.
22 The Lord’s lovingkindnesses indeed never cease,
For His compassions never fail.
23 They are new every morning;
Great is Your faithfulness.
24 “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
“Therefore I have hope in Him.”
25 The Lord is good to those who wait for Him,
To the person who seeks Him.
26 It is good that he waits silently
For the salvation of the Lord.
31-38
31 For the Lord will not reject forever,
32 For if He causes grief,
Then He will have compassion
According to His abundant lovingkindness.
33 For He does not afflict [j]willingly
Or grieve the sons of men.
34 To crush under His feet
All the prisoners of the land,
35 To deprive a man of justice
In the presence of the Most High,
36 To defraud a man in his lawsuit—
Of these things the Lord does not approve.
37 Who is there who speaks and it comes to pass,
Unless the Lord has commanded it?
38 Is it not from the mouth of the Most High
That both good and ill go forth?
Philippians 4: 6-9
6 Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. 7 And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
8 Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things. 9 The things you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you.
Please continue to pray for our precious daughter Lillian. That she will live to be born at term (in November) with a healthy heart.
Her name
Long ago in a world far far away, when Kerry and I were dating we picked baby names. We knew we were getting married, we hoped for children and we had a long drive back to Manhattan from visiting home. The wedding planning was done, so we talked baby names.
We were married when we were 19 and our first son was born 17 months later in November. We used the first boy name we had on our list. Gabriel David was born on November 22, 2002. He was born 3 weeks early because I had a pregnancy induced rash that was miserable! He weighed 7 lbs 1 oz and was 20 3/4 inches long.
Two years and a day later our second son Otto Daniel was born on November 23, 2004. We took a little longer picking his name, in fact we hadn’t decided completely on it until the night before he was born. He was much smaller than Gabe at 6lbs 9oz and 17 1/2 inches long (our nurse and sister Kristi measured him 3 times to be sure). As our siblings got married and had children we hoped they wouldn’t us our girl name. In fact, I think it was kind of an unwritten rule that this name was “ours”…don’t touch it. 🙂
On November 19, 2008 we welcomed our 3rd son Ezekiel Jackson. He was our first “non-Kansas” baby and also our biggest at 8lbs 6 oz. After 4 years of not having an infant, we were delighted to be back in this stage of babyhood again.
Titus James is our “odd ball” not being born in November. He was born August 26, 2010 at home before the midwife got here. He weighed 7lbs 11oz and was 20 inches long. He had the most hair of all my boys. I should point out that ever since Gabe was born, Kerry had been waiting and wanting to use the name Titus. I joke I consented because I was running out of ideas after the first 3.
On December 3, 2011 we had another son, Knox Cornelius. We were blessed to be pregnant with him for 15 weeks. We anticipate the day we get to meet him when we go to Heaven. I have lost 2 other children early on in my pregnancy, one in October of 2003 and one on November 15, 2009.
After waiting for over 10 (almost 11) years we will get to use our girl name. Our daughter’s name has special meaning to us. She will be named after Kerry’s Grandma Plett who died in Spring of 2007. She was a special lady and had such faith. We celebrate her and the legacy she and Grandpa Plett passed on in their family. The love, faith and trust in God. The love shared. Our daughter’s first name will be Lillian. I should note here, that we generally do not share names before our babies are born simply because we don’t want to invite commentary. However, we want to share her name now so that you can pray along with us for our daughter by name.
Her middle name will be Faith. We have relied on God for this baby, we have trusted Him and we have praised Him. We rejoice, but with the diagnosis we received this week I find myself needing the faith so much more. Faith that God will help us navigate this path, faith that He won’t bring us to anything we can’t handle.
God is faithful, He will do what He says He will do, He will be with us every step of the way. I trust that God has a purpose for this journey, even if I don’t know why. I know that God has knit this baby together in my womb for our family. He created our daughter for us to care for and love, for however long that may be. I still struggle with fear about what lies ahead for us, I still struggle to understand, but I have to give each of those things to Him. He knows and He helps.
Thank you God for our daughter Lillian Faith.
How you can pray for Lillian today:
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Pray that she will be born alive and at term (in November)
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Pray that she will have a healthy heart and won’t have any heart defects
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Pray for peace and understanding for me
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Pray for wisdom for the doctors
Lamentations 3: 19-26
19 Remember my affliction and my wandering, the wormwood and bitterness.
20 Surely my soul remembers
And is bowed down within me.
21 This I recall to my mind,
Therefore I have hope.
22 The Lord’s lovingkindnesses indeed never cease,
For His compassions never fail.
23 They are new every morning;
Great is Your faithfulness.
24 “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
“Therefore I have hope in Him.”
25 The Lord is good to those who wait for Him,
To the person who seeks Him.
26 It is good that he waits silently
For the salvation of the Lord.
1%
Our baby has a 1% chance of survival in utero. If she makes it to birth, her prognosis is actually fairly decent with good medical care (for things like hypertension, hormone replacement and osteoporosis as she gets older).
It’s amazing how much that 1% means, and how much it changes perspective.
When I had a home birth after 3 c-sections almost 2 years ago, there was just under a 1% chance that my uterus would rupture. I was comfortable with those odds. I didn’t think the 1% would apply to me, we were in the 99%.
When we elected to have the CVS test last week, there was just under a 1% chance that the procedure would cause the baby to die. We were okay with those odds, especially after we saw the position of the placenta and the baby. We were in the 99%.
We got the phone call yesterday that our baby has Turner syndrome. She is missing all or part of a sex chromosome. We were told 99% of babies with Turner syndrome die before they reach term, most of them die by 26 weeks gestation. We are praying for the 1%.
I am a bit fearful though. What if I prepare for the 99% and she is in the 1%, what if I spend my whole pregnancy expecting her to die and she doesn’t? Will I still bond with her? On the other hand…what if I prepare for the 1% and she is the 99%? I’m not sure I can handle that sinking feeling emotionally and that shock that would come. The thing is, we don’t know.
It’s all about perspective isn’t it…that 1%? The 1% is easy to push aside when we’re hoping for the 99%, but for us…I am begging, clinging and praying for the 1%.
For those who have been asking you can specifically pray for the following:
Pray for a live term birth for our baby (we want to be the 1%).
Pray for a healthy heart for our baby.
Pray for peace for me as I am struggling right now to make sense of this all.
Pray for wisdom for our doctors.
Psalm 31:22-24
22 As for me, I said in my alarm,
“I am cut off from before Your eyes”;
Nevertheless You heard the voice of my supplications
When I cried to You.
23 O love the Lord, all you His godly ones!
The Lord preserves the faithful
And fully recompenses the proud doer.
24 Be strong and let your heart take courage,
All you who hope in the Lord.