My baby died.....

            Yes....he died. Most people are afraid to say it. They say "Her baby passed away," or "She lost her son." Lost..... sometimes I even use that word, but I really don't like it. Why do people say that? Why do I say that? He's not lost.... I know exactly where he is, and he is happy, and loved, and safe in the arms of our savior. Praise God!
           I had a follow up for my foot surgery today, and am blessed to have a wonderful Christian man as a doctor. We were talking about Hank today and he even took the time to stop and look at some pictures of him. He is very sweet and sympathetic and has an aunt named Eva working for him that had a full term baby who was stillborn about 40 years ago; she still lives the pain. When we were talking about Hank, he said "I know this doesn't make things better, but he is in Heaven and he does not ever have to experience the trials and tribulations of this earth." I rejoice!
           Even so, he is gone..... and it's hard.... so, so hard. I was sitting outside watching my husband shoot the basketball, and Nathan let one of our beagles out of the yard to run around in the driveway. He picked her up, in one arm, high in the air while he shot with the other arm, and I was reminded of an old picture that I have of Nathan and his dad when he was probably around two. His Dad has Nathan raised high over his head, Nathan is holding on to the rim and the basketball is hanging just at the bottom of the net. I told Nathan it reminded me of that picture, and our thoughts immediately went to Hank. I bet we would have taken a thousand pictures just like this:

                      

Psalm 127:3 Sons are a heritage from the Lord, children a reward from Him.

September 20

This was supposed to be the day. The day of happiness, the day of joy, the day I brought my baby boy home. Instead, it marks the day that Hank has lived in Glory for 11 weeks. I miss him so much.

Blessings

I continue to be amazed by the people that the Lord has put into our lives. These people are showing me what it means to serve the Lord, by serving the "least of these." I am just one broken, stumbling woman, trying to find a way to keep my feet on the ground. You will not receive earthy glory for serving me. Likely it will go unnoticed by others. I am just "the least of these." Matthew 25:40 "I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me." These people have had a profound effect on me, and a profound effect on the way I serve others. Here are some things that y'all are teaching me:


What it means to really pray for someone. I cannot tell you what it means to me to have someone call, or email, or text, or just come tell me that they are praying for me. It gives me strength, and I know that when I feel peace, that is where it comes from. All of you who continue to remind me that you are praying for me.... you are teaching me what it means to carry someone on your heart and daily lift them in prayer. I will never forget one text in particular that I received from a fairly new friend. I texted her to ask her about something and she responded and told me, "I love you guys! I woke up at 2:30 am Friday morning consumed with you and Hank. I prayed til about 4 am! I don't know what was going on, but I know God woke me up thinking about you." My goodness, that gives me chills. To think that God so firmly planted my name and my needs in the heart of someone like that just completely blows my mind. That one statement has changed my life. It forever changed the way I think about prayer. This one woman has taught me what it means to truly pray for someone. I'll have to talk more about her later, she is pretty amazing and has ministered to my heart like no one else.


How much a card or note can lift a spirit. I love love love getting all the sweet cards in the mail. It brightens my mood. Getting an email in the middle of the day can completely change the way my day is going. I have thought many times before that just sending someone a card wouldn't help them or change anything for them. Now, I see how uplifting that can be.


The Power of scripture. Many times when I have been feeling so low, one of you sweet sweet friends/strangers leads me to His word. You give me scriptures that give me hope, that pick me back up when I've fallen down again and think I just don't have the strength to get back up this time.
You all are helping to create a better servant of me, showing me how to humble myself to others, and lift others up. And as I serve with a heart being molded by those who are now serving by caring for me, I continue to carry my Hank as my inspiration.


1 Corinthians 15:58 Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.


The time you've spent laboring over me is not in vain. I am moved by your prayers and actions. They are inspiring me to do more for others, and the Lord is glorified by them.

7 Weeks Ago

It has been 7 weeks, since we laid our baby boy to rest. Lowering his tiny casket into the ground, was one of the hardest things I have ever done. Before he passed away, I got to hold him in my arms. They were ventilating him and said they would keep breathing for him as long as I wanted if I wanted to hold him for a while. But I didn't want him to suffer. As soon as Nathan and I got him in our arms I told them to stop, and I told my baby Hank that it was ok....that he could go and be with Jesus. That was hard.....so so hard. But somehow giving up his little body was even harder. At least after we let his spirit go we had his sweet little body to hold and kiss and touch. After we buried him, there was just nothing left. Nothing but the memories that I hold on to so tightly. I try so hard to hold on to them because there are so few. There should have been a lifetime of them......

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.