Author: Erin

What do we say then?

What you can say…

So I realized after my last (angry) post I should probably post about some things that have been said to us this last week that have be helpful, or at the very least not hurtful. Let me start off by saying a couple things…

First, I know that sometimes people say things without thinking or thinking they’re being helpful but things don’t come out the way they wanted them to sound. I get that. I stick my foot in my mouth more often than I’d like to admit. I also know that sometimes it depends on what generation you grew up in regarding what is appropriate to say and what’s not. For example, when women lost a baby 40 years ago, it wasn’t talked about, she wasn’t expected to grieve and things like “at least you have 4 healthy kids” were supposed to be comforting.

Second, trying to find the right words to say to a grieving person is tough, especially when it’s the loss of a child. I get that. I understand that awkwardness that comes when you see someone for the first time after they’ve lost someone. You don’t know what you say…you don’t know how to respond and everything you can come up with seems so painfully inadequate. I don’t blame someone for those kind of remarks, I really do understand. My anger towards the comments made to us were coming from the fact that the comments came from someone who usually has a knack for veiling insults in things that sound like compliments…and that same person (who probably doesn’t even read my blog) has been more than vocal enough about our family choices. I just needed to vent…

So…stuff that was helpful…

“I’m sorry”. It was hard for us to know how to respond when someone said I’m sorry. Do you say “thank you?” or “yeah me too”? But either way…having someone say they were sorry at least let us know the person was acknowledging our loss and our grief.

“I have no idea what it must be like for you, but I’m praying for you/thinking of you/I’m sorry”. When I was in nursing school one of the things we were told never to say was “I know just how you feel” unless we really knew what it was like to walk in their shoes. I have had people, who have been through a loss like this, say “I know what it’s like and I’m so sorry”. That’s okay. Really it is to say to someone (at least is was to me). Again, for us, having someone acknowledge the loss and our hurt helped a lot. It was more painful when someone (usually a family member or friend) just wanted to talk about stuff like the weather or Christmas trees or whatever without acknowledging the loss of our son. It was like trying to step around a huge elephant in the room.

“How are you?”…While I didn’t always know how to respond or if the person asking wanted to really know I appreciated being asked. I have a friend who often asks… “How are you…and I really want to know so please tell me”. Along this same line a very dear friend asked “how is Kerry?” or “How are you as a couple” I don’t know why, but I appreciated knowing that someone else was thinking about my husband and how he might be grieving as well as thinking about how we as a couple were grieving. Right after I got out of the hospital, I was worried about how I was going to minister to my husband and kids in the middle of my grief. I was thankful that others were asking Kerry how he was doing and were helping me care for him.

I had a good friend ask me as I was laboring and recovering “how is your heart doing”. She knew how I was doing physically, but she wanted to know how I was coping emotionally. I felt like when she asked me that, I could be totally honest with her and she really wanted to know. I don’t think she knows how much that question meant to me or how much it meant that she was willing to listen to all of the emotions rolling around inside me.

I can’t tell you what a blessing it has been to have friends and church family bring meals this past week. I know it’s not “technically” what to say, but it has been so helpful. We had someone in our church organize someone to bring us meals every evening this past week. To not have to worry about what I was going to feed my family when I couldn’t think straight most of the time was a huge blessing. We has people ask us “what can we do to help?” or “what can we do for you?” The blessing behind those words is that we didn’t feel like we had to reach out and ask for help, we didn’t feel like we might be inconveniencing someone.

We were also fortunate to have family stay with us for a little while. My mom was here with our boys while we were in the hospital. It helped to have her send pictures of the boys while I was laboring and keep us updated about what was happening here at home. I didn’t have to worry about how they were doing. Kerry’s parents came to stay with us for a couple days after we got home. They helped us clean our storage room, play room and garage. Those were things that I wanted to get done, but was never going to have the time or energy for. And it’s so nice this last week to not have those huge projects staring me in the face.

With grief there are no magic words to say that will take it away. There is nothing that feels like the “perfect” thing and there are few people who can sit it total silence and have a complete conversation with you. I am blessed enough to have friends who fill different needs emotionally for me as I move through this part of my life. There are friends who are praying for me even though I hardly ever see them. They’ve emailed and called to ask what they can specifically pray for. I’ve had friends who have sent songs or scripture that they felt lead to send me, and I’ve be blessed by those messages of love and compassion. I’ve had friends who have sent me a message every day to let me know they’re thinking of me and my family. There are those who I can be painfully honest with, they don’t shy away from my grumpiness, anguish, fear or even my tears. I am so thankful for everyone who has done something, no matter how small, to help our family.

I am going to post something we give our first year nursing students helping them learn what to say to a grieving person. Like the sheet says…they’re not necessarily word for word statements, but things that reflect the state of our “heart” towards the hurting person. Regardless of whether you feel like you have a right words…it is easy do know whether the person talking to you is really genuine. You can also find a link to the table below here.

What You Can Say. . .

The following suggestions are not word-for-word statements to make, but rather a reflection of a heart attitude you should have in reaching out to your hurting person.

DO SAY

DON’T SAY

At a funeral

I’ll always remember…

I’ll come by with dinner tonight.

He’s so much better off in heaven.

If there’s anything I can do, call.

A baby died

I know how much being a mother means to you.

You can always have another one.

Be thankful you have Jenny.

At least you never got to know it.

Divorce

The future must seem frightening. I’ll stay close.

I’m sure this is a lonely time for you–let’s have lunch.

I never liked the way he treated you.

There are two sides to every story.

Legal crisis

It’s not important what happened. I just want you to know that I care.

Will you lose everything?

Tell me how it happened.

Handicapped child

She has beautiful eyes.

She is so loving and precious.

What are you going to do with her?

If you’d taken better care of yourself, this wouldn’t have happened.

Elderly parent

I know how much you love her, I’m sure you’re doing the right thing.

How could you put your own mother in such a place?

Loss of home

I’ve been a part of some very beautiful memories here.

Remember our home is really in heaven.

Friend moving

I’ve seen what special friends you are. I know you’ll miss each other.

Well, you can always write.

Pet dies

I know she was important to your family. Sometimes this brings back other sad feelings.

It’s only a dog!

You can always buy a new kitten.

During terminal illness

How are you feeling about what you are facing?

I’ll take you to your next doctor’s appointment.

I know a lady who had the same thing…

Won’t you be glad to be with the Lord?

After death of terminally ill

Even though he needed a lot of your time, I know you’ll miss his company.

It must be such a relief now that it’s over.

Death of a spouse

I know how much he meant to you, and how you’ll miss him.

You were so lucky to have him for 30 years.

Loss of a body part

I’m sure this will take a lot of adjustment. I’ll be with you every step of the way.

At least you still have your mind.

Be glad it wasn’t worse.

You don't say…

I am amazed sometimes at how insensitive people can be to one another, and I’m going to vent about it for a minute. I lost my son Knox a week ago, the pain is still very raw. I’ve had some “well meaning” people make some really hurtful comments that I feel like I have to address in some fashion…So here goes…

First: I don’t care if you have 0 or 50 children…it is never okay to say “well maybe that’s God’s way of telling you (the mother) that you have enough children or that you shouldn’t have any more”. I don’t understand why so many people (many of them proclaiming to be Christian) are so angry towards families with lots of children. (I thought of this especially after I saw Mrs. Duggar lost her 20th child during her 2nd trimester this week and saw the hurtful comments being posted toward her.)

Children are a blessing (Psalm 127:3) and a reward from God. Most believers don’t disagree with that…until you have “too many” or it becomes “inconvenient” or “too expensive” to have children. I’ve said before that we trust God for our family size, we don’t ask God to limit our blessings in any other area (financially, health wise or any where else), so we don’t ask Him and don’t believe we should interfere with His blessing. I know not all Christians feel this way, and I don’t expect them to, but I don’t know why there is this huge animosity towards families who chose to trust God with this area of their lives. Seriously. If my children are loved and well cared for…what do you care if I have 4 or 40? And losing a child isn’t a “sign” that I shouldn’t have any more…it’s not a punishment or judgment. You wouldn’t tell a mother who doesn’t have any children that her repeated miscarriages are just “God’s way” of telling her she shouldn’t have children, so don’t say it to me.

I have been told this last week that losing our baby was “God’s way of telling me my body just couldn’t handle another baby” and “Maybe you should just be happy with the 4 children you have”. I found those comments incredibly hurtful and offensive. I was speechless to be honest (and most of you know how rare that is). A. I don’t believe anyone knows God’s will for my life but God. I believe that if I trust Him and follow Him he will guide my steps. B. I am delighted by the 4 wonderful boys I have, and I desire more children, because I view them as a blessing. I desire more because of how much I love and delight in the children I have. To insinuate that I’m not happy with the 4 children I have really irks me and is way off base.

Second: Do not tell me that it was better to lose a baby now than if it were at full term. While I (Praise God) have never lost a baby at full term, just because Knox was only 16 weeks doesn’t mean that I loved him any less than if I were 40 weeks pregnant. While physically it may be a little “easier” to give birth to a 16 week old baby and the physical recovery may be shorter…emotionally it sucks. I loved my baby from the moment I found out he was on his way. I started planning and dreaming about what kind of baby he would be. I was excited, I was delighted that I was pregnant and I was thrilled with the anticipation of another child. I grieve the death of my son. I can’t imagine the hurt a mother must feel who loses a child she has had the chance to know and hold. It is not easy to lose a child ever. Please don’t tell me it’s “easier” at any point, because it’s not.

Third: Please don’t say “He’s in a better place”. While I believe Knox is in Heaven, as a mother I can’t help but feel at times that the best place for him to be is in my arms. I rest in the fact that I will be able to see him again and I trust that God has a purpose for taking my son before he was born, but my arms still ache for him. I am selfish. I want my baby with me and I don’t understand why this happened, but I am leaning on the promises of my God. While Knox is in Heaven…and while it’s “technically” a better place than this sinful earth…it doesn’t make it hurt any less. It doesn’t make me long for him any less and it doesn’t make me feel better. So please don’t tell me he’s in a better place…he’s my son and I want him here with me. Period.

Fourth: Please don’t ask me “how long is it going to take to get over it” The answer is I don’t know. And please don’t expect me to “get over it” on your time table or anyone else’s. I know it’s uncomfortable for you…it’s uncomfortable for me too, but don’t act like I should get over this quickly. Grief is messy, it’s not a neat package deal, it takes a real friend willing to “get dirty” to help me get through it.

There will always be a hole where Knox should be in our family. I will always wonder what kind of child he would have been and I think I will always feel like something is missing. I can’t pretend like this didn’t happen, I can’t and won’t pretend like he didn’t exist. He is my son, he always will be. The grief may get less intense, but I don’t think you “get over” losing a baby.

Okay…I think that’s all for my venting. It just seems to have piled up and finally gotten to me today. And for those keeping track…I think this begins my “anger” stage of grieving.

** As a side note…I wrote this post yesterday evening after I’d had a particularly difficult and angry kind of day. I feel much better today (read…not quite so angry), but still felt it necessary to post.

How are you?

I’m never quite sure how to answer this question when someone asks. I don’t know if they mean physically or emotionally or mentally or spiritually. And I’m never quite sure if they really want to know…the messy details, the pain that still sits in the middle of my chest, why I can’t sleep at night, my fears, my hope or how lost I feel.

Usually I just say “I’m fine considering” and for the most part it’s true. I’m fine. Considering…I’m tired and weak still. It takes 4-8 weeks to replace mature red blood cells so I expect it to take a bit before I feel physically “normal”. I’m taking an iron supplement (called Floridix).
I’m tired, mostly because I’m not sleeping well. I wake up in a panic thinking “Knox!” like “where is the baby?” kind of panic. It’s the same feeling I get when my babies sleep through the night for the first time. Then I realize why he’s not beside me and it hurts, I grieve, I pray and I read the Psalms. I have been able to nap some in the afternoons without waking up like that, so for those short sleeps I am thankful. I’m trying to avoid taking medication to help me sleep. I am taking an anti anxiety to help get me through the panic I feel when I wake up at night. It kind of helps. I just don’t like taking meds period.
Emotionally…I have moments. There are times when it hurts so deep that I can only choke out the words “God…please” before my grief and tears overwhelm me. Romans 8:26-27 says : 26 In the same way the Spirit also helps our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we should, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words; 27 and He who searches the hearts knows what the mind of the Spirit is, because He intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.” I trust that when I can only say “Please” that the Holy Spirit intercedes for me, that God knows my heart and can meet me where I am.

There are other times that my mind is so numb and I feel so lost that I can’t think straight. I keep telling Kerry it feels like my mind is only firing on half cylinders (and most times I feel like there were only 2 to begin with). During those times I can’t make sense of the thoughts or feelings that are running through my head. I pray for clarity, I pray for peace and I pray for “order” in my mind. Sometimes, I just put on music and listen…I can’t tell you how many times this last week during my cloudy moments, the words of a hymn or worship song have come to fill the “space” that seems to exist there. Putting words to the feelings that I can’t name.

Yet there are other times that I have a few brief moments
of joy and reprieve from the grief. I feel kind of “normal”. I glean some of that joy from my children…their innocence, their pure delight in little things. I can’t help but smile and delight with them sometimes. I have a 16 month old son, who thinks he’s the funniest kid when he plays with his belly button. I have a 3 year old who delights in dumping water over his own head during bath time. I have a 7 year old who used his hard-earned “Awana bucks” to buy me a ring and was so proud to give it to me. My 9 year old wakes up in the morning to hug me hello. He has no idea how important those “good morning” hugs are to me. I am thankful for the 4 wonderful children I have. They help keep me putting one foot in front of the other. They help me stay focused. They help keep me from getting lost in the grief of losing a child. Even if it’s for a few moments each day I feel “normal”. I am trusting that I will have more of the normal as I heal.

Grieving this kind of loss is new to me. I have been fortunate in my life time to have never lost someone this close to me. I don’t know what grief should look like. I know the “stages of grief”, heck I teach them. But I don’t know what those stages will look like for me. I’m such a system person…I like step by step… I like a check list I can complete…but I’m learning I can’t move through this step by step. I’ve found that I have to let each step happen…it’s not easy for me. I’ve also found that the lines between the “steps” blur, I will move back and forth, I have to trust that God will help me move through and navigate the path of grief that is before me. I trust that His will is being done in my life. He has a plan…He doesn’t have to tell me what it is…He doesn’t have to tell me why. I have to trust Him. I have to keep clinging to Him and seeking refuge in Him. I can’t rely on myself, or my kids, or my husband, or anyone else to bring me through. It is God who will guide me and heal my broken heart.

I have found great comfort in Psalm 34 today…
1 I will bless the LORD at all times;
His praise shall continually be in my mouth.

I will praise Him, even in my grief. He has blessed me and for that I am thankful.

4 I sought the LORD, and He answered me,
And delivered me from all my fears.

I have fears about whether God will bless me with more children, I have fears about whether my body will be able to carry another baby. I am fearful about what the future holds. I fear that I will never heal from the enormity of this loss. But I will continue to seek God, even when it doesn’t feel like it, I have to trust that He will deliver me from my fears.

8 O taste and see that the LORD is good;
How blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him!

Refuge means: to a place of shelter, protection, or safety. 3. anything to one has recourse for aid, relief, or escape.
I will seek my escape, my relief, my protection in Christ.

18 The LORD is near to the brokenhearted
And saves those who are crushed in spirit.

I am so broken hearted. My spirit feels crushed at the loss of Knox. But I am comforted knowing that God is close to me. I know that He is walking with me through this, His arms are around me. He is patiently guiding me and slowly allowing me to heal. He will deliver me to the other side of this hurt.

Philipians 4 reminds me…
4 Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice! 5 Let your gentle spirit be known to all men. The Lord is near. 6Be 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.

I trust in that. I will continue to heal both physically and emotionally. So yes, I’m fine considering…

What happened? Our Birth Story…

I write to process things that are rolling around in my brain and happening in my life. This last week has been the hardest week I have ever had to endure as a wife and mother. It’s something I would never wish on anyone. Ever. But I have had so many things rolling around in my head that I feel the need to process them by writing. What follows is our story leading up to the birth of our 5th son Knox. I write it more for myself, so that my child won’t be forgotten and so that I can capture what the events of the last week have meant to me. I plan to include these blog posts in his baby book. I share this story so that you can know too and that hopefully my journey and pain will help someone move through theirs too.

We found out we were pregnant with Knox on Labor day. We told the boys after we’d spent the afternoon at Garden of the Gods. They had been praying for a baby for weeks and we were excited to share the news with them. My early pregnancy progressed much like my others have. We experienced an early loss in 2009 at 6 1/2 weeks (prior to the birth of Titus) so I breathed a sigh of relief when we passed that mark. I usually don’t have a lot of nausea in early pregnancy, just a lot of fatigue and not wanting to eat, which is how this pregnancy was and how I felt. I made appointments with my midwife and chiropractor. My labs and exams were fine. We heard his heartbeat without difficulty at home around 8 weeks and at our 12 week appointment with the midwife. We prayed daily for the baby as a family. We prayed that the baby would grow and be healthy and be born at home. The two middle boys (Otto and Zeke) prayed for a baby sister and Gabe would pray for a baby boy. I started to feel the flutters of little kicks and rolls and I started to show around 12 weeks.
We took a planned trip back to Kansas over Thanksgiving week to attend the funeral of Kerry’s grandmother and spend time with our family. Just before we left of Thanksgiving I told work that I was expecting in May.
While we were in Kansas, I had this feeling that something was wrong. I couldn’t pin point it, but I told Kerry that I was worried. I hadn’t felt the baby move as much as I had been, but I passed it off as I was still early (about 15 weeks pregnant) and perhaps we had been so busy I hadn’t paid as much attention as I had been at home. I also noticed that my cravings for spicy food and food aversions had stopped. I passed it off as “I’m in the second trimester and I’m supposed to be feeling better”.
The night we got home (Sunday 11/27) I tried to hear heart tones, but couldn’t find them. I tried not to worry and thought maybe the baby was just turned. But I tried again several times on Monday and never heard even a hint of a heartbeat. I emailed our midwife and another friend of mine on Tuesday and started calling around to see how I could get in for a sonogram to check on the baby. Our sonogram was scheduled for Thursday evening at 5pm. I was so nervous going in. I was praying that everything would be fine, that it was just a defective doppler or something. Anything but what I suspected.
I could tell when the sonographer looked that something was wrong. The baby didn’t look like he had enough room, it looked really cramped and he wasn’t moving. She took some measurements first and then looked for a heartbeat. I couldn’t see the flutter I was hoping to see in his chest. Just empty space. Nothing. My heart sank. She checked again. Still nothing and reluctantly she told us there wasn’t a heartbeat. I tried not to cry. I could tell she didn’t know what to say. She was young and didn’t have children. We left holding each other. We stopped in the lobby and I sobbed. I couldn’t stop. I didn’t understand. I felt so empty, so robbed and so sad. Devastated. Even now, when I close my eyes and think about that sono…I see the empty chest, the gray screen and my heart just sinks. I try to squeeze my eyes harder against the emptiness. The heart break. But it lingers still.
Because I was seeing a midwife, I didn’t have a physician here in Pueblo. I called Dr. Growney on Friday and asked if he’d be willing to see me that day. We, as a family, went to meet with him that afternoon. I felt bad for him because he didn’t know what he was walking in to when he first came in. His nurse hadn’t told him why he was seeing me. He was so compassionate and caring. He was on call over the weekend and he was willing to do whatever we wanted in terms of induction or surgery or waiting. He listened to our concerns, our thoughts and our hurt. I couldn’t have asked for a better physician to care for me. It was such a blessing. We decided we wanted an induction the next morning, because my mom could come and stay with the boys and because we didn’t want surgery. (I would be happy to share our thoughts into why this was the best choice for us at another time).
We checked in to the hospital the next morning (12/3) at 9am. The nurse caring for us started my IV, I had blood drawn and took my vital signs. I have to say…I learned a lot about being a nurse by being a patient. My day nurse and I didn’t mesh well to say the least. I won’t get in to it other than to say she did not put me at ease at all. She made me incredibly nervous and she never acknowledged that we had lost a baby. I felt it was very insensitive.
I was given Cytotec to induce contractions and my labor. Cytotec is a medication that is often used for labor induction, but I was given higher doses because my body wasn’t ready for labor. I was 16 weeks and 2 days pregnant the day I was induced. The majority of the day was spent waiting. We had brought things with us to the hospital to do and read, but we couldn’t focus. I tried to sleep, but sleep hasn’t come easy. We spent a good part of the day staring at the clock or TV. We were just numb. I was thankful for the alone time we had to talk and grieve together as a couple. My contractions were really manageable. The nurse was surprised and kept offering me pain medication. I finally told her I would ask for it if I wanted it.
I was given the medication every 4 hours. 10 am and 2pm. My nurses changed at 6pm. My night shift nurse was a breath of fresh air. I could tell she was nervous (I think I was the first patient she’d had that had lost a baby), but she was calm and caring. She called Kerry and I by our first names (something our day shift nurse hadn’t done). She told us she was sorry for our loss and acknowledged how difficult this must be for us. She was exactly the kind of nurse I had been praying for all afternoon.
At 6:15 my water broke after a trip to the bathroom. I called the nurse and told her. She gave me another dose of cytotec and called Dr. G. I expected things to pick up a bit, but my contractions still stayed manageable. Kerry sat in bed with me for comfort. Around 8:45, I felt a really strong contraction and felt more pressure. I knew that the birth was imminent and called for our nurse. She also had the charge nurse with her, who was also really awesome. I knew her from taking my clinical group to Memorial Hospital in Colorado Springs. I was so thankful for the staff that was with me.
I pushed twice with the next contraction and the baby was born. I asked Kerry if he was okay while the nurses wrapped the baby up. I asked if she could tell if it was a boy or g
irl and she said the baby was a boy. The nurse handed the baby to me to hold. He was so tiny, but so perfect. We counted his fingers and toes. We touched his feet, his hands, his face. We took pictures of our baby Knox and we were in awe of how perfect he was, even though he was so tiny. Kerry and I each took turns holding him and taking it all in. As strange as it sounds, while we were grieving while we holding him…we both felt so blessed. So blessed with another son…so blessed that we had been able to experience this pregnancy even though it was cut short…and so blessed that we have had 4 healthy pregnancies and births. God is amazing. While we don’t understand the purpose for the loss, we are still in awe at His amazing creation in our son. We could see on his fingers where his finger nails were starting to grow. We could see his tiny perfect ears and his little tongue. We could feel his knees and his legs, we could see his ribs and his spine. He is perfect. He is incredible. He is our son.
While we were taking it all in and cherishing our time with him, it became apparent that the placenta wasn’t coming like we’d hoped and I was losing a fair amount of blood. Dr. G came in and looked the baby over too, he was also concerned about the amount of blood I was losing. He ordered some additional labs and prepared me for the option that we might have to go to surgery to remove the placenta. He wanted to give us as much time as possible with our son, and so he was patient and allowed us to hold Knox and try to remember every nuance about him.
I started to feel a bit light headed and my blood pressure dropped quite low. At that point, and after looking at my labs, Dr. G felt that we needed to not waste any more time and go to the OR. I have never been under general anesthesia before and because my lab values were so low, it wasn’t safe for me to have an epidural so going to sleep was the only option. I said goodbye to our sweet baby, knowing that I wouldn’t see him again until we are reunited in Heaven. It was difficult for me…I wanted to hang on to him until the last second. It felt terrible to have him wheeled out of our room in his little crib.
It terrified me to be taken down to the OR. I was so afraid that the surgery would have complications. It seemed that everything that could go wrong…had gone wrong with the birth and I was afraid it would continue to go wrong. I knew our church and our family was praying for me. I knew Kerry was praying for me and I was praying. My nurse prayed with me before I went to the OR, I don’t think she’ll ever know how important that was to me. I know that she prayed for me the entire time I was off the floor. I was praying that if anything went right…it would be this surgery. I was so thankful for Dr. G. He knew I was scared and held my hand while I was put under anesthesia. I remember looking up at him with tears in my eyes while he held my hand.
The next thing I remember was waking up in recovery, crying. I felt like my emotions had caught up with me. I asked the medical student with Dr. G if I still had my uterus. My fear going in to surgery was that there would be a complication and that I would need a hysterectomy. She told me yes and I heard one of the OR nurses say “she just asked if she still had her uterus”. I replied “yes…because children are important to me”. I was crying and grieving my baby in recovery. The medication they gave me to relax, acts kind of like if you drank too much, so my “strong” facade had diminished and I was able to cry the tears I had been holding in. I felt so weak and helpless.
The doctor went up and talked to Kerry and told him that he (Dr. G) had never seen someone wake up so easily from anesthesia before. He said I was talking in complete sentences and was awake and alert. I was taken back to the room by about 2 am. I was given several medications in recovery to try to stop the bleeding and I was given more IV fluids and antibiotics when I got back to my room.
While I was in the OR my nurse and charge nurse made a memory box for Knox. They were able to get footprints and print some pictures for us. I was so very thankful they got the tiny footprints they did. They are precious.
I was so tired, but couldn’t sleep. Kerry was able to sleep for a couple hours, but I was restless. My blood pressure stayed fairly low and I wasn’t putting out urine like I should have been. My nurse was so wonderful. She made me feel safe and cared for. She hugged me before she left and prayed with me again before she left for the day. It made such a difference to me to know my nurse was a believer.
My day nurse from the day before was back on Sunday (12/4). I was kind of dreading that. But was hoping to go home. I was still incredibly weak and tired. My labs were drawn again in the morning and they were quite a bit lower from the night before. I was given a blood product substitute called Hetaspan to try to increase the volume in my body. About 10 minutes after it started going in my hands and feet started to swell and I started to feel really anxious, like something wasn’t right. I started to feel really weird and called my nurse. I asked her to turn off the infusion because something was wrong. She was hesitant to do it, but I told her to and to call the doctor. (She really drove me nuts).
Dr G came in to see me and talk to Kerry and I about 10am. He told Kerry I had lost about half of my circulating volume (so about 1/2 of the blood in my body). He said he thought I had an allergic reaction to the Hetaspan and to add that to my allergy list. He talked with us about the grief process and what to expect. He gave me some medication to help me sleep and for pain. He also talked with Kerry about how he, as a dad, will grieve differently and to care for himself too. I so appreciated Dr. G. He was fantastic. God answered prayers for compassionate caregivers (for the most part). He said the criteria for me to go home was to be able to get up and walk around without falling over.
I tried sitting up and standing a bit, but got really dizzy. I felt so weak and tired. When I stood up, my blood pressure stayed up by my heart rate went up really high (a sign that my body is trying to compensate for low volume). It was decided that I could probably use a unit of blood. So the infusion began around 2:00pm and finished around 4:00pm. I felt a little better, still weak but not quite as dizzy as I had been. I was able to stand and walk to the bathroom. We decided we’d eat supper and then go home. We left around 6pm that night and then went to get meds before going home.
We have been home now about 2 days. It’s been an adjustment. The big boys understand what has happened, but our tender hearted Otto is having a little trouble making sense of it all I think. He’s said several times “I wish the baby was still in your tummy” or “I wish the baby wasn’t dead”. He asked to by a stocking for Knox for Christmas this year. Right now his stocking is the only Christmas decoration we have up. Otto has asked several times to see pictures of Knox, but I’m not sure he’d be able to handle seeing them just yet. I don’t think he’s prepared for what a 15 week old baby looks like, but I know for him it may be important to see them in the future.
Our son shares the date with Kerry’s cousin Jenny. She went home to be with God 30 years ago on December 3 at 6 months. While it is a sad day for Jenny’s family, and ours, we are honored in a way that our children share the same home going day. That 2 very loved children will be remembered on the same day.
As a family we are t
rying to make it through. We are thankful for the love, prayers and help from our family, church family and friends. Sleep doesn’t come easy for me still. I’m tired, but can’t seem to sleep, even with medication. The grief and tears sneak up on me at weird times. I found myself laying down holding my belly where Knox once was…it felt so empty and I cried. I am thankful for the little ones I have…I’m thankful they still want to be held. I think if they didn’t I would feel even more empty than I do. I know that Knox will always be a part of our family, I pray that I will be able to trust my body again. I pray that the raw grief will heal. I pray that someday God will bless us with another baby, not as a replacement, but to help heal me.
I am thankful though, that God has surrounded me. He has answered prayers, He has protected my body and He will heal my heart. I do not understand why He has brought me to this trial. I don’t understand what lesson I am to learn from all of this. But I have found comfort in the following passage…

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our tribulation that we may be able to comfort those who are in any trouble with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.
2 Corinthians 1:3-4

For now, I am learning to trust in Him. To trust that He will meet me where I am. He will guide us through this trial and we are blessed.

Brave Baby

I believe in living out your faith and convictions. I try by my example to show people what I stand for and what I believe. And truth be told, I’m a pretty outspoken person in real life. I have an opinion about just about everything and most of the time I’m pretty okay sharing it with you (whether you really want to hear it or not). But I have a little confession to make. When it comes right down to it…I’m a chicken about coming right out and sharing the gospel. I can tell you where I stand on birth control, abortion, politics and how I think you should solve whatever problem you’re having in your life. But put me in a situation where I need to share the gospel, something so integral to my life (and my opinions), and I fumble around like an idiot. I’m fearful because I may not have every answer you need to hear, I’m fearful because what if I say the wrong thing and turn you off from God forever, I’m fearful because I’m completely inadequate. It’s weak I know, it’s lame, I know and it’s completely wrong. While my actions may speak of my faith, if I don’t actually share my faith with someone…they may get the wrong idea…that I’m a “good person”. But I’m not, I am able to be and do what I do because God gives me the gifts and the strength I need.

My eldest son is very non-confrontational. He’s a firstborn in every sense of the word EXCEPT he’s not really the most assertive kid around. He wants to be “perfect” and works really hard to please those around him. He likes to be bossy and in charge, but really isn’t a “grab a challenge head on” kind of guy.
Last night we were out for dinner with a family member “P”. We have had a difficult relationship lately, but we all love “P” and Gabe has a tremendous amount of respect for P. We agreed to meet for dinner as a step of faith and forgiveness. During the course of our meal the boys had good conversation and interaction with P. Towards the end of the meal Gabe leans over to P and says “Do you know how to be a Christian?” P says “yeah I do”. Gabe responds “Well I’m going to tell you anyway because won’t it be wonderful to be in heaven when we die and to know God?!?” He continues “You need to believe that Jesus is the son of God and that He died on the cross for your sins. You have to confess your sins to Him. You also have to believe that Jesus died and then rose again 3 days later.” P is getting a little uncomfortable, but listens politely simply saying “yeah”. Gabe then tells P “You should read your Bible. A good place to start is reading the Proverb of the day. There are 31 Proverbs and whatever day you’re on is the day you should read…there’s a lot of wisdom in the Proverbs…or you could read Psalms. There’s more than 31 of those, but you should still read them.” P just says “thanks.” and the goes on with another conversation with one of our other boys.
Now I don’t know about you, but if I had tried to share the gospel with someone and got a cool response like that I would have been kind of bummed and really maybe even a little embarrassed with myself. But not Gabe. He just went on like nothing had happened or like the response hadn’t even phased him, like it was an everyday occurrence to share his faith with those around him. He even talked later in the car with Otto about when he wasn’t a believer (when he was 4) and what that was like. Gabe was so willing and so matter of fact about what he was saying I was amazed. He was so bold in sharing about God and what it means to have faith in God. It was so uncharacteristic for my oldest son to be bold about it and to continue pressing on until the message was out and he was sure P had heard it.
I would like to take all the credit truthfully. I’d like to say “yep…it’s because we raise him in such a Godly home or because we live the gospel in our house” But it has nothing to do with me. Sure we make sure he goes to church each week and that he has a good Biblical foundation but you know what…I have nothing to do with making him bold for Christ. I have nothing to do with how God chose to use him yesterday. It was totally a God thing. I don’t know today the impact that Gabe’s witness had on P and I may never know for years or even until I get to eternity. But I am thankful for the grace and mercy God has shown and I am thankful that He used my totally un-bold son to share His message.
Oh to be like a child.

Our Menu for this week…

I’m sharing our menu for this week. I recently revised (and am still working on) our family menu and shopping list. We’re getting ready to leave back to visit family on Friday so it’s a little lighter toward the end of the week.

Monday: BBQ Meatloaf — it’s a great twist on the “stand by” our kids love it and it’s easy enough that my husband can make it if I’m not going to be home. You can see the recipe here. I change mine a bit and use regular mustard and instead of bread crumbs I use oatmeal.
Tuesday : Broccoli and cheese soup and Semmel. Here’s the recipe I’m using for my soup…I’m still trying to find the perfect one. I plan on sauteing some chicken to add to it for a little protein. Semmel is a German hardroll that is fairly easy to make and really yummy to eat. I’ll add the recipe at the bottom of this post.
Wednesday: We have AWANA and 2 young ladies from our church have offered to help make dinner for our family each week. We have to be there from 5 – 8:30pm. It is such a blessing to have them willing to do this for our family, and takes a lot of stress off because I usually work on Wednesdays.
Thursday: Breakfast pizza (it’s actually called heart attack breakfast pizza). I got the recipe from a new cookbook, so I don’t have a link yet, but will include it in the future. This is the first time I’ve made it so we’ll see how it turns out but it sounds really yummy!
Friday: Leftovers. We’ll probably eat leftovers during the week for lunch too. But I’m guessing we won’t have as many as I hope. We’ll use this night to clean out the fridge before we leave on Saturday morning.
Here’s my recipe for Semmel:
1/2 cup warm water
1 tsp sugar
1 package dry yeast
3/4 cup water
3/4 cup milk
4 cups flour
1 teaspoon salt

Mix warm water, sugar, milk and dry yeast and let rise for 10 minutes.

Heat 3/4 cup water and 3/4 cup milk in a saucepan until warm.

Sift flour and salt onto pastry board. Make a groove in the flour and mix in yeast mixture and then warmed milk and water. Knead or beat with wooden spoon vigorously for approximately 10 minutes until dough makes air bubbles and is soft and smooth. Let rise for approximately 1 hour or until doubled in volume. Shape into round rolls and let rise again for 10 minutes.

Bake in 400 degree oven for 20-25 minutes. Brush with water for crispness. (I don’t do this)

April Showers bring May….

Babies!! At least in our family this year. (Kerry said technically it’s not April showers, but I thought it made a cute rhyme). We are expecting baby #5 at our house around mid-May. We are thrilled!!

For those who are wondering…
Yes. We’re planning a home birth again. Our last one was so awesome why not?
No we weren’t “trying” for a girl…we’d be delighted with another son (our 5th) or a daughter. We can’t put an order in anyway so we’ll take what we’re blessed with. One that note though…Otto and Zeke were praying for a sister. We’ll see.
One of the next questions (or comments) that comes up…at least this week is “are you competing with that lady (Mrs. Duggar) who is going to have 20 kids”. No. Having babies is not a competition…BUT we, like the Duggar family, leave our family size up to God. We believe that children truly are a blessing and that if we desire God’s blessing, that we should allow Him to decide what He sees fit for our family. We realize it’s not a conviction everyone has, but it’s one that we have. We believe that “He who gives mouths…will give meat to feed them”. We trust God for His blessings and His provision.
We know that having a larger than normal family is unusual, but we’re okay with being “weird”. 🙂 In addition to trusting God for blessings we also trust His timing. The space between Z and T is 21 months, the space between T and this baby will be 21 months.
So that’s the big news at our house. We’re all pretty excited. One of the neat things about our large family is that the big siblings don’t dread having another baby…they look forward to it with anticipation. The think about what this baby is going to look like and who gets to hold the baby first. They’re excited to be big brothers again and we’re excited to welcome another child to our family.

Who says?

I tend to set really high goals for myself and others around me. When I start to feel stressed or out of control, I have the tendency to try to find a better “system” to get it all done. I feel the urge to organize better so that I can be more in control of the chaos around me. I want to be able to do it all, and do it really well. But who says I have to?

I’ve got a couple of favorite blogs I read on a fairly regular basis. They’re written by some really great ladies who have bigger families than I do and they have a pretty similar world view to what we have. I enjoy them and a lot of times they give me some great stuff to ponder and implement in my family. Recently on a blog post an author included her weekly family meal menu and shopping list. I thought I’d take a gander and see what other people plan and eat. (I love food you know). Here is what she feeds her family for breakfast, lunch and dinner…
BREAKFAST
Pancakes
Eggs & Sausage
Waffles
Baked Oatmeal
Cocoa & Toast or Cereal
Smoothies
Oven Pancake & Fruit
LUNCH
Sandwiches & Chips
Grilled Cheese & Tomato Soup
Taco Salad
Spaghetti & Corn
Hot Dogs & Cheese Slices
Hamburgers & Chips
Quiche & Peas
DINNER
Chili & Corn Bread or Cinnamon Rolls
Homemade or Frozen Pizza & Salad
Crock Pot Roast & Potatoes & Green Beans
Fajitas & Rice
Potato Soup & Breadsticks
Sloppy Joes & Chips
I read this list and started to feel guilty. My kids get a choice for breakfast…cold cereal, instant oatmeal, toast, or if we have pumpkin or banana bread they can have that. Occasionally they can have Oreos. For lunch it’s left overs, PB&J or something else equally as easy. Dinner I usually cook a decent dinner. But seriously. I started to feel like I was failing my kids. I don’t give them a hot breakfast every morning and I certainly don’t make pancakes or eggs and sausage. I don’t whip up a fancy lunch either. What if I’m failing their little minds and their tummies by feeding them what’s easy and doable?
But then I got a bit of a reality check. Who says I have to make a fancy breakfast or lunch to be a good mom? Who says that my kids will only thrive if I spend my days in the kitchen instead of playing with them or helping them learn in school? Who says I have to do what other moms (who apparently have way more time, energy or help than I do) do? It’s self imposed really. There are times when I have to tell myself “who says”.
I mean, even in the Bible when it talks about women being keepers of the home, it doesn’t say “thou shalt not have dirty floors” or “thou shalt makest thy children gourmet meals”. Although that whole Proverbs 31 woman sounds pretty stellar. Although when you break it down, the woman in Proverbs 31 boils down to this…she’s trustworthy and her husband is okay with her running the household (v 10, 11), she’s frugal (v 13), she feeds her family (v 15), she thinks ahead (v 21), she helps the poor (v 20), she exercises (v 17), she is diligent in her work and brings in money (v 24), she’s wise and kind (v 26), and she’s not lazy (v 27). The other things…hot breakfasts, spotless houses, perfect children in matching clothes (I don’t do this by the way) and floors so clean you can eat off of…that’s all self imposed. It’s this imaginary standard that we all try to live up to, but we never make. My house is clean enough to be healthy, but dirty enough to be happy. My kids don’t get fancy breakfasts or lunch, but they’re not hungry and they seem to grow just fine.
So who says it has to look like “Leave it to Beaver”? Who says that anything other than what we’re doing now is better?
I should say this…if you’re one of those moms who CAN do it all and make your kids these really fantastic meals and keeps your house spotless…more power to you! Nothing wrong with that, but know that when you come to visit my house…you may need to lower your expectations just a bit.

Just one more bite

So it’s that time of year again when I’m going through our menu list and taking out stuff we don’t like anymore, are tired of, or that we just didn’t eat and I’m replace them with new meals for our meal rotation. I plan our meals on a 2 week rotation and *try* to buy groceries once every two weeks. There is still the occasional trip to the store to stock up on milk, bread or pick up sale items.

I have to say I’m kind of excited. I really like to read cookbooks. I like to scour them for recipes that I think my family would enjoy, I like to see what other people cook. Sometimes I read the recipes and I think there is no way anyone has ever made this. And if they did…they had way too much time on their hands.
One of my favorite things to do is to look at cookbooks from various parts of the US and see how the “tastes” change. For example, I have a cookbook from the “United Methodist Ladies in South Texas”. It seems like every other recipe calls for green chilies or corn bread. The one I have from Pennsylvania doesn’t have a single mention of green chilies OR corn bread. I have a new Pueblo West Women’s League cookbook that I’m really liking. Again…green chilies, but we have lots of Italian folks around here so there are some pretty great pasta recipes too. The funny thing about this cookbook is that there are a lot of recipes for alcoholic beverages. Something you’d never find in my Mennonite cookbooks from Kansas. But you’d never find a recipe called “head cheese” in the PWWL cookbook either. 😉
One of my favorite cookbooks is the one my grandma gave me when I was 9. It’s one that is blank. She started it with the recipes we cooked that summer…butterscotch pie, cream puffs and coffee cake. I filled in other family favorites and as I got older added some of our family favorites. I can flip through it and remember where I was when those recipes were introduced to our family. I have peanut butter popcorn from when I lived in Manhattan with my future sister in law and we read a recipe calling for 8 cups popcorn as 8 cups UNPOPPED popcorn. We had to do something with it. I have a recipe for chocolate covered bonbons that I got when I was in highschool and made treats for the football team on Fridays. I have a recipe for “The Swap Bark” that I made when we first started homeschooling. We also have a recipe for “Due date soup” that Kerry and I made up when I was very pregnant with Zeke.
So the menu revision isn’t just about coming up with something new for our family, but also about remembering where we’ve been.