Being Brave

This is what I posted on Facebook the other day. 

I'm not usually that vulnerable on Facebook and I was nervous doing it! But two special friends have gone through losses recently and that night I found out a third friend just had too, so it was just really heavy on my heart, as I sensed they were surprised by the sadness, etc. 

Anyway. Here it is:

On Tuesday I decided to buy flowers. What is it about flowers... A beautiful reminder of God's creation maybe.

3 years ago this week we said goodbye to a baby we got to carry for 12 weeks of pregnancy. My precious friend took me to the hospital and later that day I followed J out to the car park with no baby- as if we were just visitors. I remember the lonely corridors. How empty. Hollow. 

Mayb

e this was all right. I looked normal; I could walk. But my heart broke into a million pieces when I got home and emptied the hospital's brown paper bag of my dirty clothes, and I realised I had nothing. Nothing left of my baby. Invisible.

Gutted.

Yes I have J. And today I have Toby and God has continued to bless us with good things that we celebrate. It is not about not being thankful.

That little life was treasured. We never stop wondering what Baby N would've looked like or felt like. The baby was real.

This is a bit of a step out for me. But my thoughts are going out to the other women or couples who have been here too. And are here today. I know it is 'common' but it doesn't make it easier.

You did not get to meet tiny bud, but your loss is real. Grief is ugly.Your heart is indescribably heavy right now. No one wants to talk about it but many try to say nice things. And some want you to move on. But be mournful if you need to and for a time there really is nothing that needs to be said.

I believe that one day there will be answers to our questions and joyous reunions... and I am praying that God comforts you with his great arms of love and you find healing in his saving grace. Please know in those moments of deep sadness, you are not alone.

Dear Baby N: A letter to you...

Last week was the due date of our baby we miscarried last year. Here is a note I wrote to him (or her):

Dear Baby N,

This past week would've been the week you were due to be born.

It is hard for your dad and I to know how to remember you, as we have very few memories to hang on to.

What will remain special to us will be the fact that we saw you grow in my tummy from 7-weeks to 8-weeks, and from 8-weeks to 9-weeks. We saw this on the ultrasound each of those three weeks, and we saw your growth in size, as well as your strong and vivid hearbeat. We were so excited and so full of hope!

(I know it is not exactly related to what the psalmist is saying, but because it talks about the heart, this verse has been significant to me,

...He who forms the hearts of all,
who considers everything they do...
Psalm 33:15

as it reminds me that you were created by God and are precious to Him. )

What happened after that 9-week mark, we're not sure and probably won't know. I guess there was just something that wasn't going well that we didn't pick up and I know, as you were still so tiny, we could not have done anything about it anyway.

I'm sorry that the events that followed colour my memory of you- when I started to spot, and got worried, and what eventuated at the hospital. I wish I could rub those mostly-difficult memories out but I know the best thing is to engage with both ends of the spectrum, however they come.

When we found out we were having you, your dad and I went out for a special meal and also shared the news with some friends and family. You also travelled with me to Singapore and even though you were a delicate little baby bud from the start, we had fun.

Later on it was his turn to travel (to the States) and then he had to come back early when we found out you were no longer with us. It was so hard. It is impossible to describe the devastation we felt when we lost you at 12-weeks.

I'm sorry that sometimes I wonder if you were imaginary and that I had dreamt you up. However, I know you were real, so much so that even our doctor was confident that we would meet you here and around this time.

We were hoping to find out if you were a girl or a boy, but that didn't happen and it will remain a mystery. As will your personality and what you look like. These are things I will be longing to find out.

Regardless of what happened, your dad and I will continue to celebrate you and are thankful that we even got pregnant with you in the first place, as that was a miracle in itself and we praise God for that.

I'm not exactly sure what it will be like when I meet you one day, as I still don't know how to comprehend heaven, but we look forward to that time coming soon. (And I know there are friends and family who are looking forward to knowing you too.)

I miss you. I wish you were here.

with love,
your mom,
s

p.s. This figurine in the corner of the pic below was a gift given to us by sweet friends. We look at it often and it is a precious reminder of you.

My Three Categories of Crying

I cry a lot. Do you?

I'm not sure if it is the infertility road itself, or if it is just that I have become more aware or open about my issues, but I'm less afraid of it. To me it is not a necessarily negative thing (unless I'm using it to be manipulative), it is simply a way of expressing emotion and there is a reason why we were made to be able to cry.

Whatever it is, the human body can produce a lot of tears and I've become pretty shameless about weeping wherever and whenever. The husband has slowly gotten used to it, and is great at being there for me and waiting while I just let it all out, even when he desperately wants to go to bed. He should get a medal.

I have learnt to prepare myself by stuffing tissues (Kleenex Aloe Vera is best from my research) in my handbag before I leave the house most days, having a pack of tissues in our car and the husband's vehicle too. If I have run out, I will resort to serviettes, toilet paper and the back of my hand. (Does cause a bit of a mess if I leave tissues in my pocket and forget about them before doing the laundry. So annoying! Oh well.)

I know we all cry differently for different reasons, but I just thought about the 'categories' for myself...

Here are my types of crying:

1.  Deep agony.

Time/Place: Home. Late in the night.
Amount of tears: 40 noseblows
Who's around: The husband or no one

When your heart is simply broken. I think this is a grieving kind of crying (often includes sobbing), when the massive-ness of this journey occurs to me. For me, there is a certain amount of anger that comes out too.

So many 'resons' can spark this off. Things like the fact that I can't quite get my head around the children I have who are in heaven (children? mine? who? what?where? heaven?), wanting to meet them now, the idea of waiting but not knowing if I'm waiting for something I'm not going to get, the idea that not only may I not have kids but that would mean the husband won't have kids either, anger at how things seem 'unfair', jealousy that others have what I want, just feeling very lost, etc, etc, etc.

I am worn out from groaning;
all night long I flood my bed with weeping
and drench my couch with tears.
-Psalm 6:6

My face is red with weeping,
deep shadows ring my eyes
-Job 16:16
[It is good to know that David and Job did this as well. (And they were men too.)]

Frequency: Depends. Not often, but when it does, everything seems to pour out. And when you're done, you have no energy left.

Strategy: Vaseline or Elizabeth Arden's Eight Hour cream is good for the area around the nose and upper lip.

2. Constant struggling/wrestling with God.

Time/Place: Church service or similar
Amount of tears: 4-5 noseblows
Who's around: The husband and the whole room full of church-attenders

Somehow, I have no shame crying in church! It seems to just flow freely. I don't really mind, but I'm not sure how others who see this might feel. This happens especially during worship songs. I think this is because in singing these songs I'm declaring that I love God and He is good. And this is a hard thing to fully reconcile. I'm not usually crying cos' I'm doubting, I'm more crying cos' I know God is great and His plans are perfect, I just cannot fathom how that works with how much it hurts to get there.

Frequency: At the moment, almost every church service. (Whywhywhy!!!)

Strategy: Blow your nose during the song-singing, so that you don't have to when everyone's quietened down for the sermon.

3. Random tears

Time/Place: Unexpected- anywhere, anytime.
Amount of tears: 1-2 noseblows or just a quick wipe
Who's around: Could be the husband, or friends, or even strangers...

This is when something that comes up stirs a memory up or stings the wound. There is a wide range of when this might occur, from a simple conversation with a friend to watching a movie preview for 'The Blind Side'. Something sparks an emotion in you and the taps turn a little. I try to blink it back and sometimes that is good enough. Sometimes, they keep coming. Usually this only lasts a little while, but it is hard to say.

Frequency: Often.

Strategy: If it is safe, share what's on your mind. Your friends probably want to know how to care for you and it helps if you let them know.



Not sure why I decided to write about this. Just thought you might want to know you are not alone on the sad days. If we look up 'tears' or 'weeping' in the bible, there are lots of verses!

...a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance...
- Ecclesiastes 3:4