9 months

Next Wednesday, the 8^th,  will be nine months since we lost our son, Isaac, and our lives were forever changed.  It’s also the day that Thomas turns four.  Extreme highs and lows to process.  For the most part, we’re having more good days than bad days at this point, and that in itself brings highs and lows. 

I was 34 weeks pregnant nine months ago when my doctor said the words “I’m sorry” – words you never want to hear from a doctor.  The part that gets me the most is we were never given a reason.  I mean medically the term “Placenta Abruption” was used, but we were given no reason that the placenta became detached from him and he quit receiving oxygen.  I had a perfect pregnancy with zero complications until that moment.  He was fine one minute, and gone the next. 

On Labor Day, I had been having severe cramps all day, and they were getting worse.  I assumed it was contractions, but I never felt them with Thomas without an epidural so I wasn’t sure.  The pain got to the point that it was unbearable and Tom insisted we go to the emergency room.  When we got checked in and into a room in the ER Isaac still had a heartbeat.  All seemed normal except for the pain.  After they did the exam I immediately got dizzy, clammy, yet burning up, and started getting sick.  They let me gain composure, and after a few minutes they tried, but were never able to find the heartbeat again.  The moment that I felt like the world was ending, it did…just not for me. 

We’ve relied on our faith and the strength of our families and friends to get us through the past nine months.  There were days we didn’t feel like we could keep going, but minute by minute we made it.  As the nine month date passes, that only brings us closer to the year mark.  Another day that I’m not sure I’m quite ready to deal with.  But, minute by minute we’ll make it, just like every other day so far.

9 months…281 days…countless minutes and not one of those have gone by that we haven’t thought of you, precious boy.  I’m hoping we continue to have more good days than bad, but when those bad days do come we will tackle them head on, and allow ourselves to feel all of the emotions. If I’ve learned anything in these nine months, it’s that great loss only comes from great love.  You are so loved and missed, Isaac.  

Meeting New People

Meeting new people used to be a lot of fun for me.  I’d love to hear their stories and learn who they were.  Since losing Isaac meeting new people is completely different, and slightly scary.  I met some new people Friday night, and I’ve been processing it ever since. 

When having small talk, trying to get to know the other woman she asked me about children and how many I had.  Put on the spot I wasn’t even sure how to answer it.  Do I say two?  Or just one and deny that he existed?  So, I took the less invasive, less sympathetic eyes, and said I have an almost four year old.  She then said “oh, that’s it – do you guys want more?” But, somehow, I held myself together and just said “maybe someday” and that was it.  Then, meeting another woman that night – same thing.  “Oh, do you guys want more?” 

I don’t fault them for their questions, as they have no idea the things I’ve gone through in the last seven months.  But, when did it become okay to ask total strangers about such personal things like that? 

In the end, I guess I just hope that people realize that those questions are very hard for some to answer.  It’s not always black and white.  So, please if you’re in this situation meeting someone new – please don’t ask those questions unless they bring it up.  You never know what they’re fighting.  

Comfort zones and new friends

Sometimes the things that I dread the most turn out to be something so much more special than I ever imagined.  I found this to be true again today.  My friend Tricia had five friends over for brunch this morning, including me.  All of us at that table, except Tricia, had lost a baby.  It was so amazing to meet these other women, and know they "get" me, and I didn't have to put up a front on how good I'm doing.  There were tears, there was some laughter, but most importantly I saw the love they have for their babies too.

I dreaded going because social gatherings have been awkward for me since I lost Isaac.  I feel like I walk on eggshells so that I don't break down or lose it in front on a group of people.  I hate being that vulnerable, but today I didn't have to worry about being the only one.

When Tricia invited me I loved the idea of meeting these other moms, but this morning I woke up extremely nervous and almost backed out at the last minute.  I had this picture of us all sitting around crying, and then leaving.  I even had another friend that was ready to call me for an "out" if it became "too much".  Instead, I was at her house for almost three hours, and it felt like we had only been there for half an hour.  

What I also saw in that room was a group of ladies that have also had their faith completely shaken, and yet we all talked about how we've grown closer to God since losing our babies.  It was so refreshing to see others that have the same perspective.

What I learned today is that God doesn't want us to go through the rough messy stuff alone, and if we're willing to go out of our comfort zone, there is sometimes great rewards.  I'm hoping the women I met today will become friends for years to come.  

Before leaving there today a couple of them told me about songs that have helped them with their grieving and healing.  While driving home I was reminded of a song I posted on my blog back in April of 2012.  I've listened to that song so many times since this morning.  "Even when it hurts, even when it's hard, even when it all just falls apart - I will run to you 'cause I know that you are lover of my soul, healer of my scars."

And I'm praying that God will continue to bring people into my life that will encourage me to keep going back to Him when life gets hard and messy, and I'm thankful that our friend invited us all into her home so that we could have that time together.  Forever thankful.

Next Steps

I feel like I've been doing really well with the grieving process lately. I've been happy and hopeful again. 

This weekend I felt like I was emotionally ready for the next steps. Our awesome friend Nichole Ruhl made Isaac an afghan long before we knew he was gone. She felt the afghan should still be ours so she made it larger with his in the middle. And now it's our family blanket that represents  all of us. We've had it in the box it came in until yesterday. We opened it and a feeling of peace came over me as I felt like I now has something to hold onto to remind me of him. I'm so thankful she still gave it to us. 

Today we took it one step further and opened the cd of the professional pictures that "Now I lay me down to sleep" took for us. We've had this cd for months, but just weren't ready to see the pictures yet. 

Today I saw his fingers and toes for the first time. When we were in the hospital he was all wrapped up when we held him and I never unwrapped him. It was too hard. I've regretted that decision almost every day since. So, as hard as it was to see those pictures, I'm so glad we agreed to let them take them. And part of me wishes we had pictures of us with him. That was also too hard in those first moments. Now I'll cherish these pictures. 

The only thing we have left to conquer is the box that the hospital sent home with us which includes a lock of his hair, his hand and foot prints and I'm not even sure what else. That one will have to wait quite a bit longer. I'm not even close to ready to begin looking at all of his personal things that are in that box yet. Someday. 

The loss of my boy is very real and something I think about constantly.  As much as I think I'm doing better and having more good days than bad, it's still hard. It's still a choice to keep going, and get out of bed each morning. I still feel like part of me died when he did, and I'm not sure that will ever go away. 

All that being said, I'm still glad I got to be that little boys Mommy. Even when it's hard, even when I have good days, he's always on my mind. 

Six Months / 182 Days

That’s how longs it’s been since the day we lost you.  I’ve learned a lot about life in those days. 

In the beginning every day that passed felt like a year was gone.  Those days it was hard to even get out of bed. 

Somehow each day got a little bit easier, and slowly, without me realizing it I started to live again.  I didn’t dread the evening when my thoughts would take over.  I didn’t wish for time to pass quickly so I’d “be over” losing you already.  And, somehow in these first six months I started laughing again.  Not the “pretend laugh” so that people don’t feel awkward around me…but real laughs that scared me at the beginning.  It was such a foreign sound, but it was in that moment I realized the old me was still in there, and I needed to give myself permission to let her out. 

Deep down I believe you want me to be happy.  I’m now living my life knowing each day that passes can be a good day, and will bring me one day closer to seeing you again someday. 

I’ve seen unexpected people reach out to me, and others that I thought would be there for me that weren’t.  Sadness does funny things to people.   They don’t know what to say and don’t want to be around sad people, so for them it’s easier to just stay away.   I don’t blame them.  Just like me – everyone is doing the best they can. 

I also want you to know that I would do it all again.  I would choose you.  I would choose the love that we have for you, even if it meant losing you.  Pain changes a person, and I like the new me that I’ve become because of you.  You taught me to be kinder, and softer, and to always choose love.  Even when it’s hard, even when it’s messy…love is always worth it.  You were worth it. 

Six months have passed, and some days it feels like it was yesterday that I lost you.  I remember every detail about the doctor trying to find the heartbeat, and putting his hand on my leg, with tears in his eyes, saying the words “I’m so sorry.”   Then, other days it feels like that was an eternity ago, and I feel like I’m okay.  Grief and time are a funny thing…but somehow we’re making it.  One day at a time.  Six months, and not a minute goes by that we don't think about you little one.  

Learning to love myself again

Learning to love yourself again after a tragedy is a hard thing to do.  To love yourself again, you have to let go of the anger, frustrations and guilt you’ve put on yourself.  I was very angry after Isaac died.  Angry that God would let this happen.  Angry that this was the path that was chosen for us.  Angry that I had to keep going when all I wanted to do was give up.  I was frustrated that the world kept going and I didn’t know how.  I was frustrated that other people seemed to have everything I wanted, and they were happy.  And I felt a lot of guilt.  Maybe if I hadn’t eaten this or that.  Maybe if I had done this or done that differently maybe Isaac would still be with us.  None of that would have changed what happened. 

I’m so glad that for the most part I’ve worked through most of those feelings and emotions.  That doesn’t mean I won’t have days where I’m angry, frustrated or feel guilty, but it means is that I’ve giving myself permission to feel all of those feelings as they come, and I’m slowly overcoming and believing that better things are coming for us. 

In choosing to love who I am I also have to love the experiences that have made me who I am.  I don’t love that my son died, obviously.  But, I do love that I am slowly emerging a softer, kinder person because I am his Momma.  In his little life he has taught me so much about love, faith and hope.  I’m choosing to love myself because when I promised Isaac I would love him forever and always, I also promised him that I would be the best Momma I could be for him and Thomas.  That promise isn’t void because he’s not with me.  He would want me to be happy.  He would want me to keep going.  I’m just lucky that my guardian angel is such an adorable little guy.  And I have hope that I’ll get to see him again someday. 

Planning, Faith, and Love

If you know me at all, you know that I’m a planner.  It’s in my nature, even when I want no part of planning something I’m involved before I even realize it.  When I found out I was pregnant with baby Brown number two, I planned out everything, just ask Tom.  I thought about how we would be around family this time, and how the hospital room would be filled with family and so much excitement.  I had planned that my parents and siblings would take turns helping with Thomas so we could bond with the baby and try to sleep a little.  I planned and had already thought about how great Thomas would be around his new baby brother or sister.  I had thought about it all.  I had prayed for this baby and I had prayed that God would use us to teach this baby, as well as Thomas, how to grow up and know that Jesus loves them unconditionally and that He would protect them and take care of them.

When I heard the news that Isaac no longer had a heartbeat my world stopped, and I was in denial.  I kept thinking the doctor was wrong…just induce me and when Isaac would come out he’d start crying.  By the time he was born, less than 24 hours later, I was angry. He didn’t cry and he was definitely gone.  He was lifeless and gray in color.   How could God take away the baby He had given us?  I hadn’t planned for losing him even in my darkest nightmare.  Why would God give us this child, and snatch him away before we even got to say hello?  Why would God give us so much hope and love for this baby if we were never going to meet him? 

My heart was shattered and forever changed. I found that there is no greater pain or suffering than the loss of a child. The pain is all consuming as it crushes my heart and fills my lungs. How could I live without Isaac? How could the world continue without him? I didn’t have the answers. I begged God to give me the strength and show me the way. Even though I don’t have the ability to understand God’s plan, I still must trust Him and know that His plan is more perfect than any I could have. Without my faith and God’s promise of eternal life, I would be lost. His promise that I will see Isaac again is my driving force. I know that he only knows love and joy. I try to keep that my focus, but some moments my broken heart needs a release. I allow myself to cry and feel the pain of missing him. I know that a piece of me died when Isaac died, and I will never be the same, but I have also discovered that it’s okay for me not to be the same. How could I be after losing my child? Two things are for sure, my spirit is not broken and my faith is not lost. My life may be divided into before Isaac died and after, but love, not grief, is the connection between the two.

Only now…five months later am I starting to see clearly again, and I still don’t have an answer to all of those questions.  But, I do know this – I prayed for, and loved that baby from the moment I knew I was pregnant.  What if God gave us that child to teach us something?  I had prayed that God would use us to teach that child about Him.  But…wow…what if God used that child to show US that He was going to take care of us, and that He had a different plan for us? 

I’ve learned that some of the most beautiful things come to life while submerged in complete darkness, and as long as I surface from it, and have faith in God, it’s going to be okay.  And, in that darkness, I found God’s love for me again.  He never left me, and He never will.  Instead of me teaching Isaac about life and love, his short little life and his death taught me.  And I never could have planned for that.