Uncharted Waters Part 14: Tree of Life|A Mother’s Journey from Death to Life #PregnancyandInfantLossAwareness

TREE OF LIFE

The dam burst, and I was broken.

When Luke died, I couldn’t hold my grief inside, even if I wanted to.

Somehow, Billy was able to avoid fully grieving. He became easily agitated. Hard to be around. We argued about anything and everything.

Thankfully, he was the one brave enough to call a counselor. We needed help.

It was a long road of digging deep and excavating the cavernous regions of our hearts we had both hidden away.

I had to face memories I would have rather forgotten. Long ago, I had been the victim of child sexual abuse.

The hurt, shame, and fear only kept me shackled to the past.

Grace and truth were the unlikely keys that set me free.

Billy had his own fears to face. Somehow he thought Luke’s death was his own fault.

Our counselor led him to a place where he could weep over the loss of our son.

In time, by the grace of God, our love bloomed again.

We had another son, our rainbow baby that we could take home. Later, two more daughters were added to our family.

ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS

"I want that." My youngest girl pointed at another stuffed animal in the toy aisle at Wal-mart that she wished to add to her collection.

"We'll see. Wait until Christmas." I responded, taking her hand.

All year long, I refer to Christmas as the time when my children will get their heart's desire.

They eagerly await their most favorite time of year.

Yet, Christmas is more than presents under the tree. It's a promise kept by the One who loves us eternally.

"Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel" (Isaiah 7:14)

Going through grief and making it to the other side, I’ve learned that life is short and love is supreme.

Billy and I are able to experience joy again. That’s how I know we’ve healed in our grief.

Still, I don’t think we can ever totally get used to “the new normal.”

Maybe because we weren’t meant to.

When I gather my children to go somewhere, I sense someone is missing. I'm reminded that Luke is not with us and it still hurts.

Our hearts don’t get death. We were made for eternity (Ecclesiastes 3:11). We cry out in anguish as we still feel the sting of death, the consequence of Adam and Eve’s first sin. That is where the tears, the crying, the wailing comes from.

Seeing Luke again is one of my greatest desires, but this longing is overtaken by the glory that sets me face down in worship of my Lord and King, who does all things well. He is the One who made it possible for eternal life.

Christ Jesus, the holy and perfect Son of God, gave of Himself to the utmost, coming down out of heaven and sacrificing Himself for us on the cross. When He said, “It is finished,” he breathed his final breath, and my sin debt was paid in full.

But, the glory of this true and eternal story doesn’t end there.

Three days later, Jesus rose again, proving He is the Resurrection and the Life. In Him, death has lost its sting and is swallowed up in victory. In this world, all will die, but, one day, Jesus will call those who belong to Him and they will awaken to new life eternal (John 5:24-30). 

Jesus is our hope.

He is the tree of life;

The true vine

From which love flows.

And, looking upon the tree

Where He died for you and me,

We are given eternity. 

To live in hope, 

We must live in Him.

~C.M.G.

ALL THINGS NEW

When I see a perfect Florida sunrise, I stand in awe, and my thoughts turn toward heaven.  Heaven is so mysterious, so other-worldly. I can hardly fathom what it will be like. More than that, when I think about Jesus coming back out of heaven and setting His feet upon the new earth, what joy floods my soul. All things will be restored—the dead will be raised back to life, and all things will be made new.

The present sufferings of this world will pale in comparison to the eternal life awaiting us.

World without end.

I can only imagine how amazing it will be. To be embraced by my loved ones who have gone before me. And, best of all, meeting Jesus, who carried me through my darkest hour into the light of day. 

“And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes;

there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying.

There shall be no more pain,

for the former things have passed away.

Then he who sat on the throne said,

“Behold, I make all things new.”

(Revelation 21:4,5, NKJV)

For Part 1, click here.

Uncharted Waters Part 13: Rough Waters|A Mother’s Journey from Death to Life #PregnancyandInfantLossAwareness

ROUGH WATERS

"In Him was life and that life was the light of men" (John 1:4)

My heart was filled with contempt.

As I attempted to sketch Sir Issac Newton surveying a prism, which he used to convert a beam of sunlight into all the colors of the rainbow, someone in class passed by my desk and touched my paper. He left it wet and sticky.

Not only did this fellow art student in my high school drawing class repeatedly sexually harass me by whispering nasty things in my ear, he had smeared white glue onto my drawing.

Something in me snapped.

I dipped my finger into the glue on my drawing and walked right up to him. I wiped the glue onto his beloved silk jacket.

Expletives erupted from his mouth. He picked up a pair of scissors, waving them in my direction. "I'm going to cut you."

I snatched up a yard stick, as if that would give me some defense.

My vision tunneled. I could barely breathe. I didn't know what to do. Where was the teacher?

"Walk away." a Voice whispered in my heart.

I had no other recourse. I steered my entire body away from the enraged student and struggled to the art room sink. I set down the yard stick and washed the glue off my hands.

From behind me, the student continued yelling. I made it back to my desk with some paper towels and attempted to clean off my drawing. After that, he left me alone.

The Voice that spoke to me then was familiar. Loving, yet firm. I was sure that it was the Lord.

Years passed by before the Lord spoke to me that way again.

Then, in 2003, when I was hired to work at a Christian missions agency, I heard the Lord speak again.

I had committed to waking up early in the morning to pray because my usual afternoon prayer time would be taken up at work.

The morning of my first day of work, I didn't feel like getting up to pray. I wanted to sleep.

"Seek my face." The Voice spoke in a whisper, deep inside my heart.

This startled me out of my sleepiness, and I got up.

In my Bible, I turned to my reading for the day, Psalm 27. The exact verse the Lord spoke to me jumped off the page.

"You have said, “Seek my face.” My heart says to you, “Your face, LORD, do I seek” (Psalm 27:8).

Having this close relationship with the Lord helped me through the grief of losing my child. When I experienced relational problems with my husband, I needed to reach out to those who could be Christ to me in my time of need.

WAR AND PEACE

When the spiritual high of serving the Lord overseas wore off, the valley of normal became a battle ground. After Billy and I returned from the mission trip to Poland, all hell broke loose. Our arguments before our trip were nothing compared to after.

We each brought baggage into our marriage. Grief has a way of bringing out our insecurities and sin patterns and magnifying them.

I felt alone and abandoned in so many ways in my life. In my insecurity after Luke died, I tried to cling to Billy, but he wasn't emotionally available to me. He had shut down his emotions in order to work in a demanding job. His unresolved grief had made him increasingly irritable which led to many conflicts.

In my own grief, my emotions were raw. I was angry that Billy didn't see my needs, and I thought he was being selfish. My desire to be comforted by him was left unmet.

Intimacy became empty and lifeless, totally lacking in love.

We desperately needed help.

I read books on how to make a struggling marriage better. But it was always work, work, work and all the responsibility was heaped on my shoulders. Instead of things getting better, they only got worse.

Billy was the one who made the phone call to our pastor, who referred us to a counselor.

GROWING PAINS

Little did I know, I needed counselling long before we ever had any problems.

The next months and even years were about us growing up. I had to face the ways that I'd been seriously wounded in my past. Billy did the same. And, we had to learn how two very flawed people need God and His people in community to help us become one.

Not only did counselling help me with my marriage, I needed reorientation in all of my relationships. I could be a pliable person. Bending to the whims of stronger-willed people, and many of those people didn't have my best interests at heart.

I had to grow up.

We both did.

Uncharted Waters: Part 1 is found here.

Part 14 is available here.

Uncharted Waters Part 12: Second Embarkation|A Mother’s Journey from Death to Life #PregnancyandInfantLossAwareness

After worship at our church missions conference, a good friend walked forward and spoke into the microphone.  He was forming a short term mission trip to Poland and asked everyone to consider coming with him to help teach English to the Polish people.

Something in my heart began to stir with compassion for the people of Poland. It was the same compassion that drew me to go to Ukraine to minister to the people there who didn’t know the love of Christ.

Yet I felt a twinge of hesitation.

It had only been a few months since Luke died. I was still grieving and wasn’t feeling close to Billy.

This was the second time that Billy had the chance to go to Poland. When April was a baby, another trip had formed, but he felt unsure about going. Now he had a strong desire to go, and he wanted me to join him.

To see Billy want to serve the Lord on a mission trip gave me the motivation I needed to go. I set my reservations aside. We both prayed and committed to go to Poland.

The night before the mission trip, the whole mission team prayed and fasted. Shifting the focus from myself and my pain to trusting in the Lord filled me with hope.

Even though the Lord was leading me out of my comfort zone, He had a plan and purpose for it.  He was the One who didn’t change, even though everything else in my life seemed to be turned upside down.

From the moment I set foot on Polish soil, I felt the presence of the Lord with me. It was cool outside and a sprinkle of rain wet my forehead. Like a banner of God’s love, a vivid rainbow arched over the city of Poznan.

Like in the days of Noah, the rainbow reminded me of God’s provision of salvation. 

God's holiness against sin is so great, all must stand before Him and suffer His judgement. But God's love for His creation is just as great. Despite the world's rampant violence and depravity before the flood, Noah found grace in the eyes of the Lord. He was given divine instructions to build the ark and be saved.

The same is true for us.

We can find grace in the eyes of the Lord. He gave us divine instructions in His ancient holy Word for how to be saved from His righteous judgement. In the safety of Christ. His divine blood shed on the cross made the perfect payment for our sins. We need only believe to be saved. And in His resurrection, He reflected what is to come, a world made new.

In Him, we have new life, eternal life, where all things are made new. 

Living out that new life can be sometimes be difficult and painful, but He promises He will always be with us.

On the first day of English Club, Billy and I kept arguing over seemingly trivial things. We couldn’t seem to work together as a team. It made me wonder. If we can’t get along, what does the future hold for us?

The next day, during class, we began to gel as a teaching team. The students loved Billy's sense of humor in playing group games, and I thoroughly enjoying leading the students in English grammar.

During devotional time, we read Jesus’ parable of the Lost Son (from Luke 15:11-32).  Each Pole took turns reading a few verses, and we asked about their feelings toward each of the characters in the parable. The students shared a deep respect for the father in the parable who showed compassion toward his wayward son.

We explained that the English word compassion meant to “suffer with” someone, as if you felt their pain. Then we went around the room asking each student how they had been shown compassion.

One Pole, named Micah, had a heart-breaking story. He told us about a time he was in an accident, and his car flipped over several times. He was stuck in the car, and kept seeing people walk by, but no one stopped to help him.

He waited twenty-five minutes before someone helped. He said he didn’t feel like people showed compassion like the father in the story.

By the end of the week, we felt close to all our new Polish friends. Some of them joined us after English Club to travel to a park and play American sports.

We rode a tram (similar to a trolley) and passed by a woman who was in a car accident. She stood hunched over near her mangled automobile.

Micah’s story played through my mind. I hoped someone would stop to help her.

At first, her back was facing us, but as we drew closer, I could tell that she was holding her stomach. She was pregnant!

I burst into tears, because I wanted to help her, but I was stuck on the tram.

Someone dressed like a nurse rushed across the street to help the woman.

Spotting the pregnant woman in need was a trigger for a new wave of grief. I wept and buried my face into Billy’s chest.

He held me close and prayed for the woman and her baby. His familiar strong arms comforted me in my grief. Arms I longed for, as I grieved for Luke.

Little did I know, this was the calm before the storm. And I was in for the greatest battle of my life.

For Part 1, click here.

Part 13 is found here. 

Uncharted Waters Part 10: The Weight of Grief and Glory|A Mother’s Journey from Death to Life #PregnancyandInfantLossAwareness

THE WEIGHT OF GRIEF AND GLORY

Burying Luke made it final. He was no longer with us.

There would be no rocking our child in the wee hours of the night or cradle bed to lay him down to sleep. No gentle rhythm of baby’s breath or plaintive cry for midnight feeding.

Our house lacked the smells of baby—the lotion, the powder, the diapers, empty or full. I missed simply being able to rest his cheek against mine. To pat his small frame, having my heart swell with motherly love.

All these losses added up and left me restless. Sleep became elusive to me. As I lay in bed, I needed to hold something to fill my empty arms. I grabbed a small pillow and cradled it. Maybe I could fool my heart into believing my baby wasn’t gone.

THE TOLL OF GRIEF

The next morning, Billy and I woke up with a high fevers, chills, and aching bodies. We could barely get out of bed to drive to the doctor. We both had come down with a bad case of strep throat. Grief must have taken its toll and wreaked havoc on our immune systems.

We started a regiment of antibiotics right away. With pulsing head, I rested on the recliner in the living room. Billy was sprawled out on the futon. People from church brought us soup, but neither of us had the strength to heat it up in the microwave.

My stomach growled, and I knew I needed to eat something soon. “Could you heat up dinner, honey?” I croaked.

“Can you do it? I can’t get up,” groaned Billy.

We went back and forth, each trying to coax the other into making dinner.

Finally, Billy spoke up with frustration in his voice. “You’re gonna have to get it. I’m too sick.”

“But, I’m sick and still recovering from having our baby,” I cried out emphatically. “Why can’t you make dinner?”

Billy buried his face deep into his pillow and moaned. April looked worried and upset that her mommy and daddy were arguing.

“Well, if we’re both too sick to even make dinner,” I lamented. “Then who will take care of April?”

“Fine. I’ll call someone.” Billy got up and gave my aunt a call. She agreed to watch April for the night. Forcing myself out of the recliner, I heated up the soup and made us dinner, grumbling inwardly about the unfairness of it all.

A few days later, we were on the mend, but something had shifted between us. Like grief was so heavy, our deep love for each other got buried beneath it. Our relationship was set off course and we drifted further and further apart.

At the same time, something like a shadow crept over me. Even when I went outside in the bright sunlight and pushed April in her swing, it brought me no joy. All I could feel was the heaviness and the shadow.

THE NEW NORMAL

After months of drifting in darkness, Billy and I attended a missions conference for our church. During worship, I felt so overcome with grief, I could barely lift my head. As the music played, I bowed down in worship and felt some of the burden of grief roll off my shoulders.

We partook of communion and a church elder handed me the bread and the wine and spoke a verse over me.

“The old has gone, the new is here.” (2 Corinthians 5:17, NIV)

Everything was different now, but I couldn’t get used to this new normal. I wanted things to go back to how they used to be, before Luke died.

I didn’t know how I could ever be happy again.

For Part 1, click here.

Part 12 is available here.

Uncharted Waters Part 9: Winter's Loss|A Mother’s Journey from Death to Life #PregnancyandInfantLossAwareness

WINTER'S LOSS

On December 6, 2003, the day after Luke died, a hospice volunteer came into our hospital room and handed us a bright purple folder with a butterfly on the cover. There were resources inside listing different ways to cope with grief. One pamphlet gave an explanation for the process of filing a death certificate, tips for planning a funeral, and phone numbers of local funeral homes.

I heaved a great sigh. "This is too overwhelming. I don’t have the strength to sort through such things."

"I'll do it." Billy took the hospital phone and started dialing. He explained our special circumstances and asked if the funeral home had services for babies. He called a cemetery next and found one that offered plots for infants. "This one gives complementary burial services for young children. I think we should go with them. And this cemetery is close to our house."

"Sure. If you think they'd be good. I've never had to plan a funeral before. I have no idea what I'm doing." I started packing up our things.

"Me either." He shrugged.

We headed to the funeral home. The only thing we had to pay for was the coffin. The funeral director guided us through the one page in the catalog full of tiny caskets. When I noticed the prices, I felt anger well up inside of me. Death surely isn't free. But why is it so costly? Aren't we suffering enough?

Nearby, we drove to the cemetery, which housed a section just for babies called "Babyland Garden." We'd have to purchase a plot and a marker. By this time, my mind was swirling, and I just wanted to go home.

Billy filled out the paperwork for the plot and escorted me to the car. I was in excruciating pain by now, not only emotionally, but physically. I didn't have a baby, but my body didn't know that and made milk to feed my child.

At home, my pregnancy and infant books said hardly anything about infant death. I did find a way to help with my engorgement. Cabbage leaves and an Ace bandage. So like Eve, in the garden, I covered myself with leaves and wound a bandage over my wounded heart. It didn't help much.     

FAMILY MATTERS

My small group leader, Mark and another friend, Barb, called us and offered to create a plan for the funeral. Barb designed a beautiful card with Luke’s picture on it to give out, and Mark offered to help arrange all that would be shared.

The date was set and many friends and family said they would come, including my mother, stepfather, and dad. It was comforting to know they would be there for us in our time of grief.

The night before the funeral, my mother called to say she wasn’t going to come. She said my stepfather and older brother got into a heated argument, and he was too upset to drive her to the cemetery.

It would have meant so much for all of my parents to come to Luke’s funeral.

That night, I shared the problem with my small group. As I wept, they all laid their hands on me and prayed. They were the hands and feet of Jesus to comfort me in my time of grief.

“As a mother comforts her child,
so will I comfort you;” (Isaiah 66:13)

BLUE SKIES AND HOPE FOR TOMORROW

The day of the funeral, I decided that I wasn’t going to wear black. Instead, I wore a sky blue blouse and a skirt covered with blue cornflowers. Wearing blue reminded me that I had hope, because I knew, one day I would see Luke again.

We drove to the cemetery, where empty chairs stood beneath a green canopy.  Luke’s body was encased in a baby-sized white casket on a table. There was a small rectangular hole dug in the ground behind the canopy, which was the slightly larger than the coffin.

The funeral staff asked Billy if he wanted to place Luke in the grave by himself. His mouth dropped. Then he slowly nodded.

Soon, people started to arrive and toiled their way up to the canopy. One by one, they paused at a table that held the coffin, reflected for awhile, and placed a daisy on top. Many hugged us as they offered their tearful condolences.

Unexpectedly, my mother and stepfather toiled up the path. Despite my grief, a spark of joy touched my heart. They gave me a hug, and I invited them to sit with me.

Mark stood up and spoke a about Luke’s short life, and our hope in Christ. My brother and sister in-law, John and Krista, had agreed they would share next.

Krista read a poem that I adapted for Luke called “Reunion” from Misty by Carole Gift Page.

Someday when I’m old

And someone asks if I’m looking forward to heaven

I’ll say I’m eager to see my Jesus

But there’s someone else I want to see too.

I’ll say

It’s been thirty or forty years since I’ve seen [him].

And the time we spent together was all too brief—

[eight hours]

That’s all,

And [he] was so tiny and frail

[He] spent that time just trying to breathe.

I never had a chance to find out who [he] was

Or what [he] was like—

What [he] could have done,

What [he] could have been,

But [he] was my child,

Flesh of my flesh,

My own,

And I love [him]

With limitless love.

My other children grew up

And grew older with me

But this one—

The one I’m longing to see—

Stayed the same through the years—

[His] face fixed in my memory like a faded snapshot,

Its corners worn from too much handling.

Through the years,

The good and bad times,

I’ve dreamed of that distant reunion

And imagined the moment

I could look [him] in the eyes

And say,

Darling,

Your mother’s missed you

But we’ll never be apart again.

Adaptation of “Reunion,” from Misty by Carole Gift Page

Our brother-in-law ambled up to the front of where everyone was seated. He lifted a folded piece of paper and opened it. Billy had written the letter for him to read:

Dear Luke,

What can I say? You are my one and only little boy. I held you in my arms for such a very short time. Eight hours, that was all the time that God allowed us to have with you. But, let me assure you that they were some of the best hours of my life. It was pure joy for me to hold you and kiss your sweet little head, and place my finger in your tiny little hand.

It was simply pure joy to know you little one. When your little hand seemed to squeeze my finger and one of your little eyes opened to peek at me. To see you breathing much longer than the doctors said you would.

I’m sorry that I did not get to know you better in my life. I’m sorry that we didn’t get to do all the things that daddies and little boys get to do. I wanted so much to take you to the park and push you in the swing, teach you how to ride a bike, take you fishing, and play catch.

But, that was not in God’s plan. God’s plan was for you to stay with your mommy and me for just a short time, and then to go to heaven to be with Him. God loves you very much and has a special purpose for you there. I think you are very happy there, too. There is no sickness, no pain, or cruelty up there like there is down here. Heaven is a place filled with love, for God is love and you can trust Him to take care of you.

As for me, I’m happy that you’re with Him, but sad that you’re leaving without me. Your mommy and I miss you very much and will think about you every day. But, don’t worry, one day we’ll come to heaven to live with God, too, and we’ll be with each other again.

Remember that I love you very much and you will stay in my heart forever.

Love,

Daddy

A few puffy clouds floated across the sky like woolly sheep on a baby blue blanket. A gentle breeze made the air cool and pleasant.

As a friend strummed the guitar and sang, “Amazing Grace,” Billy stood before Luke’s little coffin and wrapped his arms around it. He hugged the box which housed his son, close to his heart.

My family softly gasped.

As he stepped one foot at a time into the grave and gently lowered the coffin, setting it down onto the cool, soft earth.

When Billy came up out of the grave, he stood next to April and me. She was holding a red balloon that pulled to the right as the wind rushed past us. We all held the balloon and then released it together.

The balloon sailed high into the sky, floating up to the clouds. At the same time, I lifted my hands in worship of my Lord and King, who I still believed was good, even though He had allowed us to experience such sorrow.

“Blessed are those who dwell in your house;
they are ever praising you. 

Blessed are those whose strength is in you,
whose hearts are set on pilgrimage. 

Lord Almighty,
blessed is the one who trusts in you.”

(Psalm 84: 4, 5, 12)

For Part 1, click here.

Part 10 is available here.