Here is our Christmas Letter and picture for the year…I’ll be mailing some out this week too. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!!!
Family
Stories from the Rosfeld family
Here is our Christmas Letter and picture for the year…I’ll be mailing some out this week too. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!!!
I came across this poem today.
How quietly he tiptoed into our world.
Softly, only a moment he stayed
but what an imprint his footprints have left upon our hearts.
~Unknown
Today was a “good” day for me. We spent the day as a family and while I thought often of our Knox, I was peaceful today. I am thankful for that.
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.
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. |
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.
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.
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.
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.