Some ask how to be a friend to someone who has lost; I was reminded this past Friday of one way.
..................................
I rarely bring up Elias with people I met after him.
I did with a teacher from Z's school.
She asked about my weekend, and I (briefly) told her the reason we were going away.
Before parting ways, she grabbed my arm and intently inquired with love in her eyes,
"What was your baby's name?"
I felt like she was looking into my inner soul.
She told me what a beautiful name Elias is, and committed it to memory by repeating his name.
..................................
The bereaved love hearing others say their deceased one's name.
It recognizes their life, value, and memory.
It demonstrates that you do not fear talking about their loved one.
Tuesday, October 22, 2019
Friday, October 18, 2019
Last Year, This Year, Next Year
We returned to the same spot for Elias’ birthday trip this year.
The flood of memories unexpectedly startled me; I did not anticipate much recollection.
I remembered the same patterned sand, empty beach, brisk climate, and expansive view of the sunset. The water was just as I had remembered: gentle and foamy, yet relentless and robust.
I remembered anxiety around my rainbow pregnancy, if Baby would be born healthy and what he would be like. This year, God has kindly answered all of those questions — he is L, lovely in every way and so vigorous.
I remembered ZJ’s timidity of getting too close to the shore but this year, they ran uninhibited in and out of the smaller waves with gleeful gaiety. “Can we come back again next year? When Elias turns 3?”
This year, we celebrate more than we mourn. By God’s grace, He has wrought healing in our hearts, as well as added to the joy in our family through our newest little.
Our Rock and our Redeemer, Your ways are higher and more perfect than we could ever imagine. Eternally Faithful and Glorious One.
The flood of memories unexpectedly startled me; I did not anticipate much recollection.
I remembered the same patterned sand, empty beach, brisk climate, and expansive view of the sunset. The water was just as I had remembered: gentle and foamy, yet relentless and robust.
I remembered anxiety around my rainbow pregnancy, if Baby would be born healthy and what he would be like. This year, God has kindly answered all of those questions — he is L, lovely in every way and so vigorous.
I remembered ZJ’s timidity of getting too close to the shore but this year, they ran uninhibited in and out of the smaller waves with gleeful gaiety. “Can we come back again next year? When Elias turns 3?”
This year, we celebrate more than we mourn. By God’s grace, He has wrought healing in our hearts, as well as added to the joy in our family through our newest little.
Our Rock and our Redeemer, Your ways are higher and more perfect than we could ever imagine. Eternally Faithful and Glorious One.
Sunday, October 13, 2019
Good to Me
This was a special song on my Elias playlist... I remembered it this year around his birthday.
* I do not endorse the foxes in vineyard line, which speaks of intruders in a marriage from Song of Solomon 2:15.
Good to Me
Audrey Assad
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bKosVfAEUPE
* I do not endorse the foxes in vineyard line, which speaks of intruders in a marriage from Song of Solomon 2:15.
Good to Me
Audrey Assad
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bKosVfAEUPE
I put all my hope
On the truth of Your promise
And I steady my heart
On the ground of Your goodness
On the truth of Your promise
And I steady my heart
On the ground of Your goodness
When I'm bowed down with sorrow
I will lift up Your Name
And the foxes in the vineyard
Will not steal my joy
I will lift up Your Name
And the foxes in the vineyard
Will not steal my joy
Because You are good to me, good to me
You are good to me, good to me
You are good to me
You are good to me, good to me
You are good to me
And I lift my eyes
To the hills where my help is found
Your voice fills the night
Raise my head up and hear the sound
To the hills where my help is found
Your voice fills the night
Raise my head up and hear the sound
Though fires burn all around me
I will praise You, my God
And the foxes in the vineyard
Will not steal my joy
I will praise You, my God
And the foxes in the vineyard
Will not steal my joy
Because You are good to me, good to me
You are good to me, good to me
You are good to me
Your goodness and mercy shall follow me
Friday, October 11, 2019
In Loving Memory
We especially miss Elias today.
How has it been 2 years already?
Sounds like a long time with L turning 7 months in a couple of days, while
not
as I can vividly recall numerous memories of that time.
2 years out, I could never dream where we are now.
We are well: spiritually, emotionally, and physically.
I remember texting a friend a few weeks after Elias' death that I did not think I could go on.
ZJ still consider our family as a family of 6.
ZJ draw pictures of Elias interacting with our family, and J tells me Elias died because his kidney was not
working.
The Lord added to our joy L.
There was some time that I could not bear the thought of having more children. A common comment I receive is
how all our boys have the same "look". My heart warms thinking about how Elias would have looked like. Elias'
life and death utterly altered me as a parent (blog post to come).
Many friends thoughtfully remembered Elias with us this year.
It is never expected but so sweet, and undeserving.
Jehovah is yet God (Elias' name meaning), and His kindness and faithfulness endure. From the beginning of time to eternity, amen.
How has it been 2 years already?
Sounds like a long time with L turning 7 months in a couple of days, while
not
as I can vividly recall numerous memories of that time.
2 years out, I could never dream where we are now.
We are well: spiritually, emotionally, and physically.
I remember texting a friend a few weeks after Elias' death that I did not think I could go on.
ZJ still consider our family as a family of 6.
ZJ draw pictures of Elias interacting with our family, and J tells me Elias died because his kidney was not
working.
The Lord added to our joy L.
There was some time that I could not bear the thought of having more children. A common comment I receive is
how all our boys have the same "look". My heart warms thinking about how Elias would have looked like. Elias'
life and death utterly altered me as a parent (blog post to come).
Many friends thoughtfully remembered Elias with us this year.
It is never expected but so sweet, and undeserving.
Jehovah is yet God (Elias' name meaning), and His kindness and faithfulness endure. From the beginning of time to eternity, amen.
Tuesday, April 30, 2019
Thoughts from Nancy Guthrie
Been listening to many podcasts/talks in my early morning feedings with L.
One was by Nancy Guthrie on suffering.
She, along with others who endured significant pains, commented on their disbelief when the Lord gave them another difficult trial. The panelists remarked their wrong theology that we should receive only "one hard thing".
Guthrie and the panelists also spoke about not allowing one's suffering to define him/her. It is easy to orient your identity around it, to use it as your reference point, to desire to bring it up in every conversation, to expect others to ever pity/have compassion on you because of the trial... but you should not. It is one part of your life -- not its totality -- and this is how you work to move forward. The suffering should change you, but to someone who is more godly and refined. Not into someone who is bitter, angry, self-focused, and depressed.
One was by Nancy Guthrie on suffering.
She, along with others who endured significant pains, commented on their disbelief when the Lord gave them another difficult trial. The panelists remarked their wrong theology that we should receive only "one hard thing".
Guthrie and the panelists also spoke about not allowing one's suffering to define him/her. It is easy to orient your identity around it, to use it as your reference point, to desire to bring it up in every conversation, to expect others to ever pity/have compassion on you because of the trial... but you should not. It is one part of your life -- not its totality -- and this is how you work to move forward. The suffering should change you, but to someone who is more godly and refined. Not into someone who is bitter, angry, self-focused, and depressed.
Tuesday, April 2, 2019
Dear Elias
Dear Elias,
Your younger brother, L, was born safely 2 weeks ago.
Room 12 in Labor & Delivery holds numerous, vivid memories of you: your strong heartbeat inside of me when you lived, your slowing heartbeat as you died, a difficult + traumatic delivery, where Baba and my family met and loved you, and where we handed you over to the nurse and said goodbye.
It is also the last room on the floor before exiting to Mother-Baby.
As we waited for the double doors to open oh so sluggishly for us, we parked in front of Room 12. It was just as it was October 11th, 2017. The door stood agape, and my heart stood agape, teetering on the precipice of time and space: recollections of searing sorrow + pain leaving that floor without you vs. joy + gratitude unspeakable of a beautiful, healthy, new babe in my arms. Something I could only dream of until that moment.
The same searing sorrow + pain revisited at discharge, when the memories reared with vehemence of before, and now. I could barely explain my weeping to the bewildered high school volunteer, (carefully) wheeling me to our car.
..........
Your life enhances ours with L.
Occasionally, I study L's face and wonder if you would have looked like him and your older brothers. We miss you. Opposite where I mostly feed L are your tiny handprints/footprints, as well as a few mementos of your brevity. The placement was not intentional but my gaze often falls on your wall. These moments I now have with L, I could not have with you. I never complain, just marvel, about waking up for L, diaper changes, spit up, burping; I am madly in love, so thankful for His kind grace to our family.
..........
Thank you, Elias.
Your younger brother, L, was born safely 2 weeks ago.
Room 12 in Labor & Delivery holds numerous, vivid memories of you: your strong heartbeat inside of me when you lived, your slowing heartbeat as you died, a difficult + traumatic delivery, where Baba and my family met and loved you, and where we handed you over to the nurse and said goodbye.
It is also the last room on the floor before exiting to Mother-Baby.
As we waited for the double doors to open oh so sluggishly for us, we parked in front of Room 12. It was just as it was October 11th, 2017. The door stood agape, and my heart stood agape, teetering on the precipice of time and space: recollections of searing sorrow + pain leaving that floor without you vs. joy + gratitude unspeakable of a beautiful, healthy, new babe in my arms. Something I could only dream of until that moment.
The same searing sorrow + pain revisited at discharge, when the memories reared with vehemence of before, and now. I could barely explain my weeping to the bewildered high school volunteer, (carefully) wheeling me to our car.
..........
Your life enhances ours with L.
Occasionally, I study L's face and wonder if you would have looked like him and your older brothers. We miss you. Opposite where I mostly feed L are your tiny handprints/footprints, as well as a few mementos of your brevity. The placement was not intentional but my gaze often falls on your wall. These moments I now have with L, I could not have with you. I never complain, just marvel, about waking up for L, diaper changes, spit up, burping; I am madly in love, so thankful for His kind grace to our family.
..........
Thank you, Elias.
Tuesday, March 5, 2019
Social Settings
This weekend, I attended 2 large gatherings of acquaintances and new friends.
I inevitably fielded innocent questions that I despise over and over again.
"How many kids do you have now?"
"What are your childrens' age gap?"
"WOW, 3 BOYS?! Were you trying for a girl? Try again next time for a girl!"
It was exhausting and difficult.
I do not enjoy these questions because they indirectly bring up the silent pain of losing Elias. How most people do not interact with loss, and assume gender to be more important than health. How moving forward, people will not know about him. How looking back, people do not know how to acknowledge or respond to him.
And that it makes it easier for everyone to not bring Elias up.
Though I have had practice with these questions, I still cannot answer fluently, without a pause, as I quietly remember my sweet boy and try to curb my anger/sadness.
My loss-mom friend told me people were one of the hardest things to navigate. She has been spot-on in all her counsel.
She told me answering these questions does get easier once she made peace that people will not know.
I inevitably fielded innocent questions that I despise over and over again.
"How many kids do you have now?"
"What are your childrens' age gap?"
"WOW, 3 BOYS?! Were you trying for a girl? Try again next time for a girl!"
It was exhausting and difficult.
I do not enjoy these questions because they indirectly bring up the silent pain of losing Elias. How most people do not interact with loss, and assume gender to be more important than health. How moving forward, people will not know about him. How looking back, people do not know how to acknowledge or respond to him.
And that it makes it easier for everyone to not bring Elias up.
Though I have had practice with these questions, I still cannot answer fluently, without a pause, as I quietly remember my sweet boy and try to curb my anger/sadness.
My loss-mom friend told me people were one of the hardest things to navigate. She has been spot-on in all her counsel.
She told me answering these questions does get easier once she made peace that people will not know.
Wednesday, February 27, 2019
Elias' Due Date
"for I am God, and there is no other;
I am God, and there is none like Me,
declaring the end from the beginning
and from ancient times things not yet done,
saying, ‘My counsel shall stand,
and I will accomplish all My purpose." (Isaiah 46:9b, c-10)
A mother cannot forget.
I remember the anticipated due dates of each of my living and dead children,
and today was Elias'.
But instead of the utter sorrow February 27th, 2018 brought, I reflect joyfully on the year the Lord has brought us through. And how on February 27th, 2019, we eagerly anticipate the arrival of a new babe.
Thank You, God.
I am God, and there is none like Me,
declaring the end from the beginning
and from ancient times things not yet done,
saying, ‘My counsel shall stand,
and I will accomplish all My purpose." (Isaiah 46:9b, c-10)
A mother cannot forget.
I remember the anticipated due dates of each of my living and dead children,
and today was Elias'.
But instead of the utter sorrow February 27th, 2018 brought, I reflect joyfully on the year the Lord has brought us through. And how on February 27th, 2019, we eagerly anticipate the arrival of a new babe.
Thank You, God.
Sunday, January 13, 2019
PTSD Haunting
It has been a long while since I have had a nightmare related to Elias.
Last night's left me breathless, disoriented, and with a backache that still persists.
I dreamt that I had prematurely delivered some placenta-thing at the clinic, and that meant I was in labor at 30 weeks. The fear felt insurmountable. The OB took an ultrasound and gravely reported that Baby had 1 or 3 horseshoe kidneys (would not know until delivery), and that all the organs had joined together into a single mass. I kept asking the nurses if our baby would be born alive but no one would answer. Baby stopped moving, and a nurse suggested that maybe he had passed in the womb as they prepped me for C-section. "Why is this happening again?!" I screamed at Derrick. He locked himself into the bathroom for some time, crying. I wept loudly to a friend.
Calmed my racing heart and mind by praying and submitting Baby unto the Lord.
Last night's left me breathless, disoriented, and with a backache that still persists.
I dreamt that I had prematurely delivered some placenta-thing at the clinic, and that meant I was in labor at 30 weeks. The fear felt insurmountable. The OB took an ultrasound and gravely reported that Baby had 1 or 3 horseshoe kidneys (would not know until delivery), and that all the organs had joined together into a single mass. I kept asking the nurses if our baby would be born alive but no one would answer. Baby stopped moving, and a nurse suggested that maybe he had passed in the womb as they prepped me for C-section. "Why is this happening again?!" I screamed at Derrick. He locked himself into the bathroom for some time, crying. I wept loudly to a friend.
Calmed my racing heart and mind by praying and submitting Baby unto the Lord.
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