My heart

I only cried a few times today. Even though I cried a few times, that still made it the best day I've had so far as far as crying goes. I only have one picture of Hank with out his CPAP mask on from when he was still alive. It was from right after he was born...he was laying there crying. I would give anything to have heard that....that amazing sound of my living, breathing, crying baby. Due to my low platelet count, the anesthesiologist would not do a spinal on me for the c-section, I had to be put to sleep. I had to miss his birth, and then I was not allowed to see him for 24 hours while I was confined to my bed on a magnesium drip. I really felt like he was ripped away from me. Everything happened so fast, and my doctor wasn't there, and I felt like I had no say in what was going on. All of that still would have sucked, not getting to experience the whole first day of his life, but since he did not live, I feel like it is so unfair and I feel devastated by it.
So, I wanted to print that one picture today. I uploaded it to Sam's website so that I could have a large picture made quickly. Shortly after submitting it, the guy from Sam's called and said, "um, I was just calling to let you know that I'm not going to be able to print this picture because it's kind of considered inappropriate." Really? He's a baby. So that made me upset, and it made me cry. I ended up cropping it, and getting it printed so it turned out fine, but sometimes it's just the littlest things that make me cry.
When I picked up that larger than life-sized picture of Hank, I looked at my beautiful boy and I just couldn't stop staring at him. He is so perfect and sweet looking. So I cried some more, aching to hold that perfect little boy in my arms. He is so hard to take my eyes off of.
He has my heart....

For some people, it seems the voice of God is so clear and so easy for them to hear. I have never had that gift. I pray for guidance, I ask the Lord what I should do, but I don't know that I ever hear the answers. A lot of times people say, "God is calling me to do..." How do I not hear Him? What is wrong with my relationship with Him that I could e unable to hear His voice? Sometimes I have strong feelings about what I should do, such as working with the youth in Tuscola, but how do I know if that is God speaking to me? I find myself questioning, second guessing, and doubting what the Lord wants me to do. How can He reveal His plans for my life to me if I cannot hear them?
I guess I am looking for the literal "voice of God," to speak to me. I cry out to Him, asking for comfort, for guidance that I may see the way out of this deep sorrow and find Joy and Hope in Him. I seek guidance in my day to day life, in the way I treat others, the way I react in situations, and the way I represent myself as a Christian woman and a servant of God. I ask for guidance as I build a legacy for my son to be remembered, since he did not have a chance to build one of his own. Hank's death has changed the way I look at life. I have really come to realize who I should be living for. My days have been passing me by, just getting by not fully glorifying God. I now live with new purpose, striving for the promised land where my sweet baby lives. One thing that I do not doubt is that my son's life was not without purpose, and I will strive every day to fulfill that purpose which I fully believe is to bring others to know God.
I have been having such a hard time lately. It seems my tears never cease to flow. I prayed this morning for strength and to be guided to what the Lord wanted me to hear today as I opened my Bible. This is what I read,
"I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you. I will sustain you and I will rescue you." Isaiah 46:4
Maybe he does speak to me...... I just need to learn how to listen. So that is what I pray, and what, if you are praying for me, I ask you to pray for me. That I will hear the Lord's words and be confident in them. Be confident that I am hearing his words, and faithful enough to listen.

I love you, Hank

I have been trying to do normal things lately. Go out of town, spend time with people other than my sister and husband, and talk on the phone more (even though I've never liked talking on the phone), and spending more time out of my house. I am doing these "normal" things, but I definitely don't feel normal. I am so tired of being asked if "I'm doing any better." No, I am not. I will never be better. I still miss my baby like crazy.

Tuesdays are hard. Every Tuesday, I was one week closer to term, one week closer to meeting my sweet boy. Tuesday is also the day Hank passed away. Every Tuesday evening at 6:30, he's been gone one more week. It's been five weeks now. Five weeks living on earth without my precious little boy. I do more, see more people, even spend time with people, but I still hurt as much as I did the day my baby boy left me.

I was reading another woman's blog and I liked her perspective on milestones. Instead of living 5 weeks without my baby, I am five weeks closer to being with him. I like that better. I just have to try to not think of the innumerable days/weeks that will pass before I do see him again.

Monday, I am supposed to start back to work. I'm feeling really anxious about this. It is hard to be around other people. It is exhausting trying to get through a whole day walking in sadness. And getting through an 8 hour work day without crying seems impossible. Tears are always on the verge of spilling and I just never know what will send them tumbling down my cheeks.

I have always thought that I was a strong person. I can walk through physical pain day in and day out. I am mentally tough too, I never give up. I don't let too much get to me, and I let things go pretty quickly. But I have never experienced this depth of sadness. It is life-altering. It is hard and overwhelming. This is what is seeing me through this time...when I feel broken and without hope:

Isaiah 51:11 - The ransomed of the Lord will return. They will enter Zion with singing; everlasting joy will crown their heads. Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away.

A day will come when my God will save me from the agony of my sorrow. He will heal me and build me back up after having been broken down and unrecognizable. That day will be a long day in coming.... but I have Faith that it will. It is by this faith that I pull myself out of bed in the morning, and make it through my day.

I find myself focusing so much on the pain and loss I have experienced, that I forget to be thatnkful about my many blessings.......so I will end this post with a bit about my husband.

My husband is amazing and wonderful and sweet and funny and a compassionate Godly man. I am so thankful for him, he and my sister have been my crutches, there one on each side, ready to catch me any time I wobble or threaten to fall. They are always encouraging me, and reminding me that I am the one who I am sad for, that our Angel is is in the arms of our glorious maker...never to feel pain,or anxiety, or sadness, or despair. I know in my heart that he knows I love him. I ask my heavenly father to hug and kiss him every morning when I wake and every evening before I sleep. I tell him that I love him all the time. I hope that I can learn to use that love I feel for him for strength. Strength to get me throughout he day, to be kind to others, to grow stronger in spirit and stronger in faith, and to be a bright shining light for the Lord, the way my baby taught me to be.

Crying

The lactation consultant called tonight. She asked how Hank and I were doing. I had to tell her that he died. She was really nice and said she'd pray for me....but I still cried. I cried so hard it hurt. And then I cried some more. It's just not fair. I should be visiting him in the NICU, maybe even getting to hold him by now. But I'm not. I'm at home crying and telling the lactation consultant that my baby died, and calling the social security administration to report his death so that no one steals my dead baby's identity. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

Guilt

Guilt has been crowding my mind lately. It keeps creeping in there mixing around with the sadness. Several people have told me not to feel guilty, that this is not my fault, there was nothing I could do, but I still feel guilty. No, I could not control the hellp syndrome that put both mine and Hank's life at risk, but it did happen to my body. He had to come out because my body was shutting down. How do you not feel guilty about that? I am his mother and I failed him.
I feel guilty that I did not get to spend enough time with him before he died. Because of the preeclampsia, I had to remain on bed rest for more than 24 hours after I delivered on a magnesium drip. Speaking of the mag, there is some more guilt. I was so drugged by the residual anesthesia, the pain meds, and mag, that I was so confused about everything that was going on. I kept having to ask what day he was born (I had been in and out of the hospital for several days), and how much he weighed and how long he was. I had to ask my husband every time someone asked me these questions and that made me feel awful! So because of my being confined to the bed over 24 hours after my surgery, my son was more than one day old before I got to see him. I couldn't wait to see him! But, I had to..... no visiting from 630 to 830 due to shift change. Meanwhile I got switched to my postpartum room where my nurse wants me to get out of wheelchair and into bed for an "assessment." Keep in mind this is the first time I've gotten up in about 2 days, I have an incision that has not been moved yet, and no pain medication. So after painfully getting into bed, she took my blood pressure, felt my uterus, and looked at my bleeding. Then she gave me 2 vicodin and said I needed to walk all the way to the nursery (I couldn't even sit up straight) Then she recommended me wait until my pain meds kicked in and then go to the NICU. Was she crazy? I needed to meet my baby. Everyone else had see him except me and I was not about to wait one more minute. So I try to take off with my IV pole no success, my incision feels like it is tearing open, so I went in a wheelchair with the instruction that I needed to walk the whole way back. Then I got to meet my sweet, perfect baby and nothing else mattered. I held on to his soft little hand and he held on too. I looked at all of his perfect, tiny body parts and was in awe of him. I only got to visit him one more time before he started getting sick. So I feel guilt that I did not get to see him or touch him, or be there for him enough when he was alive.
I also feel guilty because I want to have another baby......so bad. I want to as soon as possible. I know no one will ever replace him, but I feel guilty for wanting another baby. I hope that it will take away some of the pain of not having my baby to hold in my arms. But I feel guilty for having those feelings. I have always wanted lots of kids, but when I found out Hank was coming, I was scared that we weren't ready. I was selfish and didn't know if I was ready to have the responsibility of caring for someone all the time. As soon as Hank was born, I knew I would do anything for him, and I realized that I have always been ready to be a mom. Having him for those two short days made my desire to be a mom so intense that I now feel anxious that I won't have a baby soon enough.
I have guilt for wishing that I had died too. Then I would be with him, holding him in my arms in heaven. I feel guilty for wishing that because there are so many people that love me and would miss me. I feel guilty because I know what that would have done to my husband. And I feel guilty because that feels like choosing my baby over my husband. I feel ashamed because I know now more than ever that life is precious, every day a gift from God... and I am taking it for granted.
But most of all, I feel guilty because I lived............ and he didn't.

What was supposed to be

Before yesterday, I hadn't posted on my blog in a really long time. I had planned on blogging again when Hank was born. It was supposed to be a place to brag and show off pictures and talk about all the cute things he did. But now nothing is the way it was supposed to be. It never will be again. My heart will always hurt, and my family will never be complete. It will always be missing someone....forever. And that thought is absolutely overwhelming. To think that I will feel this pain and emptiness forever, it's just so exhausting and hopeless feeling. I'm trying to take it one day at a time, but I often find myself grieving for moments that should be happening in the future, but will not. So it's here that I've decided to try to deal, and to write my thoughts, my fears, my grief. If you continue to read, be warned many times, I will be sad....and so my posts will be sad. Read at your own risk, you may not want to know all you may read here. If you are close to me and you get your feelings hurt easy, you may not want to read because If you say something that hurts or offends me, you will likely see me talk about it here. So here starts my journey...my journey of grief and how I learn to deal.

Pain I cannot begin to describe

1 week ago yesterday, Nathan and I laid our sweet, beautiful, curly blond haired baby boy Hank to rest in a tiny grave out at McBee's cemetery. The pain, the sorrow, the hurt, was more than I could have ever imagined. As my husband and I lowered our baby's casket into his little grave, I felt like my heart was so broken that if I bent over any further, it just might all fall out and land shattered around his casket. I had a deep physical pain, a need to hold my baby. It took everything I had in me to not crawl down in that grave with him and wrap my arms around his casket and cry and beg to just be buried with him. I wanted to be with him forever. But, I knew that was not a choice I had.
I have to take care of myself, so that I can take care of my husband, and we can heal together. I cannot abandon my earthly duties. Something that gives me great comfort is that my sweet Hank left this earth perfect, just as God wants us to be. He had no time to sin. It is so special to me that he will be entering heaven as a perfect little angel. There are very few who have this honor. Once we begin to walk and talk, we also begin to sin. And the older we become, the more opportunities to sin.
So you can see why I cannot abandon my earthly duties.....we are all sinners out here walking and talking, and sinning. Our children must be guided, taught about God, and led down the path to righteousness. So many children do not have someone to tell them about Jesus. They do not learn of his love or his sacrifice, or his expectations for us. So that is what I have to do... I have to make sure that children have an opportunity to come to know God. I have to make sure they know someone loves them, and cares about them, and wants to see them in heaven.
But it will be oh so hard..... My kids at church have spent hours trying to name my baby. When I see them again in August, I was supposed to be very pregnant. And we were supposed to have Hank September 20, to bring home to us, and then to his church home, for everyone to love and kiss and hold. He was supposed to be in the nursery that the church was getting ready just for him. And he was supposed to grow up in our youth group and cause all kinds of trouble because I'm sure he would've acted just like his daddy. Instead..... when I see them again, my womb will be empty, as will my arms, and my heart will still be in a million pieces.