The dreaded question...

"I pray to You, O Lord, my rock. Do not turn a deaf ear to me. For if You are silent, I might as well give up and die. Listen to my prayer for mercy as I cry out to You for help, as I lift my hands toward Your holy sanctuary."

~ Psalm 28:1,2

Day 84: Field trip to the Marine Corp Museum with friends, and a picnic. Then a trip to the river as a family and dinner at McD's.

Yesterday at the end of my teenager's baseball practice, one of the moms arrived to pick up her son. She had her other children with her, all within relative ages of my own. This is a family that goes to AWANA at our church, so our kids know each other but she and I had never met.

And she asked me *that* question.

"How many children do you have?"

I answered, "I have 5 living children."

I didn't think there was a harder question, until she asked it.

She asked me how old my youngest is.

And I kind of choked. Part of me wanted to tell her about the sweet little boy I carried, birthed, and buried. But then I would shock her and have to comfort her, and I really didn't feel like getting into all that. So I simply left my Caleb out, and pointed to Sarah and said she is 2. Oh, the guilt that filled my soul! I feel as if I betrayed Caleb by not telling her about him.

Resurrection Sunday and Caleb

“...I am the resurrection and the life. Anyone who believes in Me will live, even after dying. Everyone who lives in Me and believes in Me will never ever die. Do you believe this..."
~John 11:25,26

Day 80: My little bit of happy ~ doing nothing all day except watching a movie with my kids, running to the grocery store alone with my Super Hubbie, and making the kiddos dinner.

Tomorrow is easter, and it is holding a special meaning for me this year.

It's funny how Caleb's death has such a bigger impact on me than my other babies. Probably because I never saw their faces, held their bodies, or felt them move inside of me, etc. I bonded with them, yes. Or rather the idea of them. I bonded with the pregnancy, but not the person that they were. I never knew them. But Caleb, I knew Caleb. And I long for Caleb far deeper than I have ever longed for them. If you're wondering, yes I feel guilty. Feel free to stand in judgement, as I stand in judgement over myself. But the truth of the matter is, late losses are a whole different ball game from early losses.

Lately, I've been taking time to intenionally close my eyes and visit Caleb in my memory. I spend so much time pushing him out in order to function as a wife and mother. I want to keep him here, to keep him real. I want him to be forever in my todays rather than relegating him to my yesterdays and leaving him there.

So whenever I have a chance, I go back. If possible I close my eyes. And I picture him.

I picture him alive and bouncing inside of me. I remember those days when I felt his gentle bumps and how I would enjoy them each night as I went to bed and would lay there each morning waiting for them.

I remember how we found him so still and tightly curled up at the bottom of my womb the day we discovered he had died. I remember how that night I lay in my bed willing him to move. I remember the horror of registering for L&D at only a few days shy of 18 weeks, the dread of walking up to the floor, and the relief that they were waiting for me and I didn't have to explain why I was there.

I remember the moment I felt him slip out of my womb, the moment I ushered him forth with one big mighty push before anyone could have the chance to stop me. I remember my mom telling me he was a boy, and my first glimpse of my very limp a deteriorated but absolutely perfect little boy. I remember the pictures we took, and how we marveled at how perfectly he was formed. His eyebrows and the hair folicles on his head. How the shape of his body was a tiny mirror image of his daddy's. I remember how cold he was, and how fragile. I remember how his hands and feet felt to my fingers, and how intricate they were.

I remember the anguish of my heart when he was taken from me, 17 hours after he was born. I remember how I had to force myself to put his tiny body in his little casket, because I couldn't bear for anyone else to do it. I remember how my heart broke as my husband carried his casket out to the car so we could take him to be buried. And how I came back to the cemetary alone a few hours later and knelt at his grave and sobbed my heart out.

A few weeks ago a friend gave me a necklace to honor and rememer Caleb by. It has his 3 stones (conception month - September, birth month - January, and due date month - June... I actually have a physical reaction within myself when ever I think of these months in relation to Caleb as it makes me want to both sob and throw up), butterfly, a forever circle, and a heart with his name engraved. I decided to hang it from my rear view mirror in my van so that the whole family can share it and so that we can carry his memory with us wherever we go. I love seeing it dangling there as I'm driving and in a way it is almost like having the 6 of them together, though I know they aren't and don't really believe in any way that they are. It is purely commemorative.

On this night before Easter, I'm thinking a lot about what Easter means for those who are in Christ. How it is because of this resurrection that one day too my Caleb will be resurrected. When I see my Jesus face to face, Caleb and wont be far behind. And he will finally be able to introduce me to his tiny siblings.

What a day, glorious day, that will be!!!

Oh, the irony...

I was just thinking about my username - my online persona - and what it means.

"Mother Goose" came to me one day as I was walking from store to van with my then 4 little gosslings trailing behind me. It is a commonly enough used username that I needed to add a number to it so I chose my anniversary to tie in my husband. I feel it identifies me perfectly.

518.

Caleb was born at 5:18.

I have 5 living children. I have held 1 dead child. I have 8 children in Heaven.

Wow.

The Cemetary...

"...he has crossed over from death to life. I tell you the truth, a time is coming and has now come when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God and those who hear will live."
John 5:24,25

Day 75: My little bit of happy ~ a new memory card for my camera.

I wish I could explain the feelings evoked in me when I drive past the cemetary. To know that just a few yards away from me, close enough to touch if it weren't for the dirt and plastic between us, lies the precious little body that housed my son for those wonderful weeks that I carried him inside of me.

Unless you have looked down into such a little hole and watched it swallow up your child, or held a tiny little box containing all that is left, there is no possible way to even begin to know what that feels like.

It's an odd sort of feeling. For me the cemetary doesn't bring me pain or sorrow, but an odd sort of comfort. A physical, visual reminder that he was here and that I know where he is.

No, he is not in the ground, though it is so easy for me to picture him there, and I can almost even visualize the other sweet babies that surround him. He is Home, in Heaven, and he is waiting for us. As I drive past the cemetary I am reminded of how temporary and fragile this life is, and that there is something more waiting for me when I am through here.

11 weeks...

"My health may fail, and my spirit may grow weak, but God remains the strength of my heart; He is mine forever."
~ Psalm 73:26

Day 72: My little bit of happy ~ wii fit plus!

I wonder if and when I will ever be able to think of Caleb and his birth without my heart absolutely clenching in my chest.

"For He has not ignored or belittled the suffering of the needy. He has not turned His back on them, but has listened to their cries for help."
~ Psalm 22:24

Day 70: My little bit of happy ~ my Bible study ladies.

Dear Caleb,

Mommy is missing you today. A whole whole lot.

A couple of nights ago your daddy was off, and so we were downstairs watching a movie together. As I was laying with my head in his lap he rested his hand on my empty belly. Something he does often. Immediately my mind was flooded with thoughts of the little boy who should be playing there. I found myself trying to picture you inside of me when you were still alive. Before your heart stopped beating and you were born looking so sad.

I closed my eyes and tried to imagine that amazing little body moving and wriggling and dancing. Touching your face, your placenta, the walls of my womb, reaching for your cord. When I sing to your sister Sarah I remember the times when I sang to both of you and dreamed of what it would be like to snuggle up with you in between us and your sister kissing you and stroking your head.

I keep looking at the picture of your hand on mine. What I would give to touch it one more time. To feel your moving within me. Such big defined movements they would be now. You would be all knees and elbows at this point. I would be preparing for your arrival now. Since my body can't handle pregnancy to 40 weeks I have to make sure that when 35 weeks hits I'm ready. We would be at 28.4 today.

I would be starting to slowly make those preparations now. Getting another bench for the van. Turning Sarah's carseat around and installing yours. Buying another seat for daddy's car. Setting up the crib and cradle. Organizing clothes and diapers.

Instead you will always and forever be my little 17 week baby who never wore a diaper or saw his mama or came home from the hospital. I'll never again touch your little hand, kiss your feet, or hold you to my chest.

Oh, if I could only reach you...
~ Mommy

"I fine..."

"Now may our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father, who loved us and by His grace gave us eternal comfort and a wonderful hope, comfort you and strengthen you in every good thing you do and say."
~2 Thessaolonians 2:16,17

Day 62: My little bit of happy ~ beautiful weather allowing us to spend time OUTSIDE this afternoon!!!

My little Sarah Hazel-nut is sick. Last night when we got home from my doctor's appointment and running a few errands she popped a fever and became miserable. She was pointing to her face and saying "ow" as well as complaining that her eye hurt. She kept telling me, "I sad, I want my mommy".

There is just something that happens in the heart of a mother when her little one tells her that she is sad! It completely melts you! So I gave her some motrin and stripped her down to just a pull up (cloth of course!) tucked her into my bed next to me where I "sc'atched" (tickled) her back as she quickly drifted off to sleep.

She woke up a few hours later to find me gone. I was sitting here finishing up my blog, but my baby came to me crying. Once again her skin felt warm and she snuggled into my chest saying, "I need you..."

So I quickly finished up my blog entry and hit publish, leaving the proof reading for another day when my baby's need for my attention wasn't so immediate. I closed my laptop, gathered my feverish little girl in my arms, and carried her off to bed.

Crawling into bed together she burried herself under my covers and nestled herself up against me in a way that would provide her as much skin on skin contact as I am willing to allow. And then she looked me in the eyes with the happiest smile and said, "I fine."

And I melted all over again. Such a simple act was all it took to solve all of her problems. No longer did it matter to her that her that her body was fevered, her nose stuffy, and her lungs irritated. No longer did she care that her body ached. She was snuggled up in her mama's arms and that made EVERYTHING ok. She was fine.

My mind of course had to travel to my sweet Caleb. The now familiar pang of awareness that I will never offer him the same comfort. He will never again find comfort and security in my body and my presence.

While I mourn that, I realize that it is something I am only mourning for myself.

Because really... if something so simple as being wrapped up in her mother's embrace solved all of Sarah's problems and brought her absolute comfort and security, what must it be like for Caleb who is in the embrace of his Heavenly Father?

I can not compete with that. I can never out love God. I can never care for my son more, or hold him closer. Caleb is missing nothing, and I am missing everything.

I can almost picture him, looking into the sweet face of Jesus and whispering to Him in the dark with a soft sweet baby voice...

"I fine!"

The ugly cry...

"I pray that God, the source of hope, will fill you completely with joy and peace because you trust in Him. Then you will overflow with confident hope through the power of the Holy Spirit. I am fully convinced, my dear brothers and sisters, that you are full of goodness. You know these things so well you can teach each other all about them."
Romans 15:13,14

Day 61: My little bit of happy today ~ my independant 2 year old needing extra mommy love. (Unfortunately though it is because she's getting sick.)

Dear Caleb,

It's been a long week for your mama. I've been sick physically, and emotionally spent as I have been grieving over another mama's recent loss; as well as reliving those first days after you left us. My emotions have been running full tilt these last fews days. Illness, hormones, exhaustion... grief.

Christ calls us to bear one another's burdens. This world is a little less lonely and scary when we have brothers and sisters in Christ sharing the weight of our world on their shoulders, being God with skin on for us. Too often there is nothing we can DO. We can only BE. And pray.

I rarely let myself fall apart any more. I don't have the time. I usually keep my grief and sorrow closely guarded. It took almost 4 years of marriage before your daddy figured out that when I disappear into the bathroom it's because I've gone to fall apart in private. Now that he knows he doesn't let me do it any more. He loves me too much.

Which is both wonderful and infuriating. Because sometimes I just need to fall apart and there's nothing anyone can do to help hold me together. So most of the time I hold my emotions at bay. The tears might trickle and my voice might crack, but I do everything in my power to hold myself together.

And then there are nights like tonight. Daddy is at work. The four biggest kids are each in their beds and Sarah is tucked into mine (and every night when she tucks herself in next to me I wonder what it would be like to have you tucked up in between us). I am up way longer than I had intended because of needing to eat and medicate myself before I can go to bed.

As I sat here eating a quick bite and giving myself a nebulizer treatment before crawling back into bed I was reading Stephanie Dyer's blog, and as I often do I left her page open to listen to her play list. She and I have a very similar taste in and relationship to music. It's how God reaches us, and how we reach Him when we are too broken to reach Him any other way.

And Angie Smith's song, I Will Carry You came on. This is a song I've heard countless times before, but usually have to cut off because it's just too emotional.

Tonight it was my undoing. I had to feel. I had to weep. And so I took my glasses off, and I held my arms up to my chest as if I were holding you there under my chin. And I rocked. And I fell apart. And I did the ugly cry. Twice.

I fight the ugly cry because... well, it's ugly! But it is so cleansing and sometimes we just need to feel the deep raw excruciating pain. It's part of the healing. It's part of growing. It's part of acknowledging and being real in the situation.

There were photographs I wanted to take
Things I wanted to show you
Sing sweet lullabies, wipe your teary eyes
Who could love you like this?
People say that I am brave but I’m not
Truth is I’m barely hanging on
But there’s a greater story
Written long before me
Because He loves you like this

"Long beyond the empty cradle and the coming years, I will carry you..."
~ Your heart broken mama

Another week, another loss...

"Even though the fig trees have no blossoms, and there are no grapes on the vines; even though the olive crop fails, and the fields lie empty and barren; even though the flocks die in the fields, and the cattle barns are empty, yet I will rejoice in the Lord!I will be joyful in the God of my salvation! The Sovereign Lord is my strength! He makes me as surefooted as a deer,able to tread upon the heights."
~ Habbakuk 3:17-19

Day 60: My little bit of happy ~ slowly recovering from my respiratory illness and being able to breath easier, even if only a little bit.

Today marks another week that I "should" be pregnant. And while I think it and feel it, I feel foolish saying it because it is so far from the truth. I was never suposed to be pregnant a day longer than 17 weeks and 4 days.

And yet I sit here, caught up in my flesh, marking off another week of my short lived pregnancy. 27 weeks. The start of a whole new trimester - 2/3 of the way there. But not for me and my sweet boy.

Last Monday I posted that my little bit of happy was a secret. You see, I had a positive pregnancy test. It was technically too early, but I was getting sick (oh how sick I ended up becoming!) and I needed to know if it would be safe to take the medicines my body would need to fight it off. But that positive was followed by a series of negative tests and then today I began bleeding.

I now have had my 4th very early miscarriage. Another "chemical pregnancy." A little soul passing through for but a few days before joining those in Heaven.

Here's the thing that galls me about these types of pregnancies. Our society is desperate to dehumanize the unborn! A chemical pregnancy is considered a "false positive" in the pregnancy testing world.

What is a chemical pregnancy? "Chemical pregnancy - This is a pregnancy that has a positive pregnancy test but the embryo or fetus do not develop."

Ummm... human life begining at human conception is a scientific FACT! If there is no embryo implanting in that uterine wall then there is no positive result of a pregnancy test. A chemical pregnancy is NOT a false positive. It is an early miscarriage. It is the death of human life. It is the loss of a child.

And I have to be honest. While I am disappointed at this turn of events, there is a very small part of me that feels relieved. After the initial excitement of seeing that positive, panic and fear set in.

My heart is still so fully wrapped up and focused on Caleb. I know that love does not divide, it multiplies. If I have enough love for Caleb and all of his siblings that are here for me to care for, then God will certainly create love in my heart for another one. And I do want another one, I do.

It just scares me.

I'm scared of loss, yes. But more than that I'm scared of not being able to connect. I'm worried that I wont be able to bond. From loving and longing for Caleb, from fear of another loss... I want to enjoy my next baby just as much as I enjoyed Caleb. More so. I want to grab onto it with both hands, and jump in with both feet. No matter how long or short my next pregnancy lasts I want to enjoy that child with heartfelt abandon. I don't want to hold anything back.

In my flesh I know I will never be able to do it.

And I'm scared that I wont be able to let go and let God do that work in my heart.

The God of Grave Victory...

This is an excerpt from Max Lucado's book A Gentle Thunder.

I had wanted to use it for Caleb's funeral but had no where near the emotional resources to search it out. But tonight I found it and wanted to share...

As a minister, I'm often asked to speak at funerals. I no longer
have to ask the family what they want me to say; I already know. Oh, I may have
to ask a question or two about the deceased, and that I do, but I don't ask them
about what they want me to say. I know.

They want to hear what God has to say about death. They want to
hear how God would answer their questions about the life hereafter. They don't
want my opinion; nor do they want the thoughts of a philosopher or of a research
scientist. They want to know what God says. If Jesus were here, at the head of
this casket, in the middle of this cemetary, what would He say?

And so under the canopy of sorrow, I give God's words. I share
the eulogy Jesus gave for Himself. The disciples did not know it was His
farewell address. No one did, but it was. He knew he had just witnessed His
final sunset. He knew death would come with the morning. So He spoke about
death. Here is how He began.

Don't let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God, and trust in Me.
There are many rooms in My Father's house; I would not tell you this if it were
not true. I am going there to prepare a place for you. After I go and prepare a
place for you, I will come back and take you to be with Me so that you may be
where I am (John 14:1-4)

What kind of statement is that? Trust me with your death. When
you face the tomb, don't be troubled - trust Me! You get the impression that to
God the grave is a no-brainer. He speaks as casually as the mechanic who says to
a worried client, "Sure, the engine needs an overhaul, but don't worry. I can do
it." For us it's an ordeal. For Him it's no big deal.

The other night I did something every parent has done dozens of
times. I carried my daughter to bed. Five-year-old Sara fell asleep on the
floor, and I picked her up, carried her up the stairs, and put her in bed. WHy?
I knew it was time for her to rest, and I knew that rest was better up there
than down here.

Doesn't God do the same? Doesn't He, knowing more than we, carry
us to the place of rest He created? For God, death is no tragedy. In God's
economy, the termination of the body is the begining of life.

Can you imagine if Sara's sisters objected to my decision to
carry her upstairs? "Don't take her. We'll miss her. Please keep her here so we
will all be together."

How would I answer? "Oh, but she'll rest so much better in the
room I have prepared for her. Besides, you'll be coming up yourselves soon."

By calling us home, God is doing what any father would do. He is
providing a better place to rest. A place He has "prepared for us." Heaven is
not mass-produced; it is tailor-made.

Sometime ago I indulged and ordered two shirts from a tailor. I
selected the cloth. The tailor measured my body. ANd several weeks later, I
received two shirts made especially for me. There is a big difference between
these two shirts and the other shirts in my closet. The tailored shirts were
made with me in mind. The other shirts were made for any hundred thousand or so
males my size. But not these two. They were made just for me.

As a result, they fit! They don't bulge. They don't choke. They
are just right. Such is the promise of heaven. It was made with us in mind.
Elsewhere Jesus invites us to "receive the kingdom God has prepared for you
since the world was made" (Matt. 25:34).

The problem with this world is that it doesn't fit. Oh, it will
do for now, but it isn't tailor-made. We were made to live forever, but on this
earth we live but for a moment. We were made to live holy lives, but this world
is stained by sin.

This world wears like a borrowed shirt. Heaven, however, will fit
like one tailor-made.

By the way, I've often thought it curious how few people Jesus
raised from the dead. He healed hundreds and fed thousands, but as far as we
know He only raised three: the daughter of Jairus, the boy near Nain, and
Lazarus. Why so few? Could it be because He knew He'd be doing them no favors?
Could it be that once someone is there, the last place they wan to return to is
here?

We must trust God. We must trust not only that He does what is
best but that He knows what is ahead. Ponder the words of Isaiah 57:1-2: "The
good men perish; the godly die before their time and no one seems to care or
wonder why. No one seems to realize that Godis taking them away from the evil
days ahead. For the godly who die shall rest in peace" (TLB).

My, what a thought. God is taking them away from the evil days
ahead. Could death be God's grace? Could the funeral wreath be God's safety
ring? Why does an eight-year-old die of cancer? Why is a young mother taken from
her children? As horrible as the grave may be, could it be God's protection from
the future?

Trust in God, Jesus urges, and trust in Me.

She never will forget me...

"You will show me the path of life; In Your presence is fullness of joy; At Your right hand are pleasures forevermore."
~Psalm 16:11

Day 58: My little bit of happy ~ a whole slew of drugs to help my poor ailing lungs recover.

I've been super sick this week with a minor cold turned severe asthmatic bronchitus. Tonight Sarah and I were cuddled up together in my bed watching videos on youtube together: Sesame Street, Wiggles, Kidsongs, and finally Baby Songs.

The last song on this video says:

"My mommy comes back, she always comes back... she always comes back to get
me...
My mommy comes back, she always comes back... she never would forget
me..."

I guess that is part of what drives me to go and stand at my son's grave. Because his mommy always comes back. And no sweet Caleb~boy, I never will forget you!

Snuggling Caleb...

"I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me."

~ Galations 2:20

Day 56: My little bit of happy ~ holding Caleb in my dream!

Dear Caleb,

I held you in my arms today... you were older, bigger, and so incredibly alive. It was a very strange dream in so many ways, but absolutely lovely.

I pitched Caleb's Ministry to the ladies group at church last night. An added blessing to Caleb's Ministry that I didn't expect is that it is keeping you alive in my heart. On the days when I am most involved with Caleb's Ministry I go to bed at night and have the most precious dreams of loving my boy. I wasn't expecting this, and am finding it to be such a sweet gift.

Oh, how the Lord Jesus rewards us when we walk in obedience and surrender our hearts to Him! Blessings we could never have imagined.

In my dream, you were a micro preemie and for whatever reason it had been some weeks since I had been able to visit you. The NICU was situated in a mall type building which had both a Starbucks and a church in it.

Hey, it's a dream, it doesn't have to make sense!

I entered the mall with your 5 brothers and sisters, and a baby gate I currently have in my van to give to another mama at church. I stashed the kids and the baby gate at Starbucks (!) and went into the NICU to see my boy. As I stood at the doorway I washed my hands before entering. The door to the NICU was a split style door that you often see in church nurseries and day care centers.

As I entered the nursery I discovered that you had been moved from where I was expecting you, and as I approached the bed I was surprised by what I found.

Expecting a scrawny red micro preemie fully dependant on machines, what I found instead was a very tiny baby in a reclined position. He had a trache in his neck, and an IV. He was wearing nothing but a diaper.

He was so tiny, but he had the softest creamiest skin I've ever seen. His head was covered in baby fine brown curls. And his eyes were brown and clear, the same "tiger eye" color of your daddy's.

And I new he was you. My heart soared and I reached for you, as I put you to my shoulder (you were suddenly clothed in thin jammies) I asked, "can I hold him???!!!"

And in my dream I sat there for what seemed like hours just soaking you in. Your warmth, your softness, your beauty. YOU. Oh Caleb, it was so undeniably YOU! I was aware of my other children needing my attention, but I didn't care. I just wanted to hold you and never let go.

You fussed and were given a pacifier. I had an awareness that I had "allowed" my milk to dry up and that I would have to relactate for you. But I had the thought that maybe you would comfort nurse even if there was no milk and even though you never had and didn't know how. And so I offered you my breast, and you latched on like you'd been doing it all the time.

Tears poured down my face. Here I was nursing the baby I thought I would never nurse. And it was the most precious moment.

And then I woke up to reality. The reality where your body lies cold in the ground, your hair never grew long enough to form curls, and I will never know if your eyes would be the same beautiful shade of brown that your daddy has. The reality where I will never nurse you, never stroke your creamy skin. The reality where I will never again kiss your little head or feel you squirm.

And it was bittersweet. It was SO hard to wake up, but at the same time it was so wonderful to have had such a realistic dream. And to remember it! In such detail! Oh, I hope there are more! The disappointment of waking up was so worth it.

Thank You Jesus for letting me visit my son in my dreams!

I love you Caleb Enoch, and I miss you oh so much!
~ Mama

2 whole months...

"Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual act of worship."

~ Romans 12:1

Day 54: My little bit of happy ~ is a secret!

Dear Caleb,

Today is your 2 month birthday, and also the day when we would be finishing our 26th week of pregnancy and coming to the end of the second trimester. How sad that makes me! You've been gone from us for 2 entire months, and we still aren't even close to your due date!

I still haven't changed the "What To Expect When You're Expecting" app on my iPhone. It is still tracking YOUR pregnancy... each week that you aren't here my phone still remembers where you would be. Each milestone I reach with a quiet belly.

I long for you. And I don't see that every going away. I can't even imagine it ever fading.

And I have to wonder... when there is another growing beneath my heart will I be able to think of anyone but you? Will I be able to see the individuality of that child, or will the torch I carry for you outshine him or her? Will I be able to enjoy that child for who they are?

And what of when I hold my own baby in my arms again? Assuming she or he is alive... will they be able have their own shining moment, or will my heart still be with you? Will holding them bring the healing I long for, or intenify my hurt?

I need to keep my eyes set before me, and live in today. You are not in my todays. You live only my yesterdays, and in my memories. It is there that I hold you.

I dreamed of you the other day. I had been at my friend's house discussing Caleb's Ministry and we looked at several pictures taken the day of your funeral that I had never seen. And that night, you were in my dreams. Unfortunately the demand of your older siblings yanked me out of my dream so abruptly I wasn't able to savor it and the details were quickly forgotten. I don't remember what I dreamed about you, simply that you were there. And that it was a sweet pleasant dream. I wish for more of those

I love you my youngest son.
~ Mama

Lives will be touched....

"But My servant Caleb, because he has a different spirit in him and has followed Me fully, I will bring into the land where he went..."
~ Numbers 14:24

Day 52: My little bit of happy - lunch with friends and the gift of a necklace memorializing Caleb!

As some of you know, I am in the process of answering God's call to start a ministry known as "Caleb's Ministry". In the days and weeks following Caleb's death, as I have gazed at his pictures, the Lord has strongly impressed upon me that I am to share Caleb with the world.

I have started a group on Facebook called "Caleb's Ministry" to introduce and define the ministry. Please check it out and share it with your friends! On Tuesday I will be "pitching" the ministry at the monthly Ladies Ministry meeting at church.

What is currently going on with Caleb's Ministry:

The website is being designed and built. Caleb's Ministry will provide pictures of babies who have died of natural causes through all stages of gestation. If you would like us to consider your pictures please email the full size image(s) to calebsprayer at gmail dot com. Obviously you will need to edit that a little bit in order for the email address to work, but it is necessary to post it that way to avoid spam.

These pictures will be used to inform those who deny the humanity of the unborn child, to aid in prenatal bonding for family members, and to "prepare" those facing the immediate death of their unborn child.

In addition to the pictures the website will have testimonials of women who have lived to regret their decision to abort their child or children, as well as the stories of women who have lost children to natural causes between conception and the first year outside the womb. There will be a section to help parents in the process of planning a memorial for their child.

The website will host a trimester specific forum for parents who have lost or are losing their children.

Forums will include:

* First Trimester Loss Support
* Second Trimester Loss Support
* Third Trimester Loss Support
* Parents carrying to term after receiving a fatal diagnosis for their unborn child
* Antenatal loss 0-6 months
* Infant loss 6-12 months
* Pregnancy after Loss Support

* Support for post abortive mothers who regret their decision
* Support for post abortive fathers who either were not given a say in the decision to end their child's life, or who regret making that decision

In addition to the website we will be developing and producing a video to be used in Crisis Pregnancy Centers, churches, and schools around the world as well as materials to be handed out promoting awareness of the complex humanity of the unborn. I am also having thoughts of marketing bumper stickers, t shirts, etc. To raise money for these materials as well as to provide sonogram machines to Crisis Pregnancy Centers.

There are certain logistics that still need to be worked out. Like whether we will need to file as our own 501 non profit organization, appointing board members, and figuring out who will handle the financial aspects of the ministry.

Lives are already being touched! I emailed a friend of mine who is a professional photographer tonight and asked her if she was a photographer for NILMDTS and if not, why. She responded that she had never heard of NILMDTS before Caleb and that she was definately looking into it, wanting to provide for others the gift that was provided to me. Praise be to God!!!

To know, or not to know... which one is better?

"You go before me and follow me. You place Your hand of blessing on my head. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too great for me to understand!"
~ Psalm 139:5,6

Day 50: My little bit of happy ~ a lovely lunch with friends... and a photography lesson!

Today I was talking to my dear friend Christina about a blogger friend, Stephanie, who is carrying her daughter to term despite a fatal prenatal diagnosis. Stephanie will not see her daughter grow up, and though she has made it to 39 weeks she is not expected to survive long after birth if she is born alive. Baby Amelia is already a miracle though, as she was not supposed to make it this far!

As I have followed Stephanie's pregnancy, and Amelia's life, in the weeks since losing Caleb I have wondered if it would be preferable to have those weeks to "prepare" yourself mentally and emotionally for the coming loss of your child. Really it's such a preposterous question.

For one thing, how can one call such a thing preferable?! Yet death is an absolute, and it will come at God's appointed time. He alone knows the exact day and hour, for He planned it from the begining. That being as it is, I wonder if it would be better to know in advance that your unborn child was going to die or if it is better to live blissfully unaware until the awful moment comes?

Secondly, it is impossible to prepare yourself mentally or emotionally for the death of a child. Even when you've walked that lonely road before there is just no way to know how it will feel when the time comes to give birth to that child. You don't know until you actually walk that road how hard it will be to try to pack a life time of memories into the few hours that your child spends in your arms. You don't know until you hold your son or daughter's lifeless form in your arms what it means to watch death take over their tiny frame. There is no such thing as preparation.

You simply brace yourself. And in both situations, you collapse spent into Jesus arms and let Him carry you through and hold you up.

I've decided that each has it's own blessings and it's own curses.

Stephanie's blessing is the bumps, rolls, and hiccups. Her daughter will be big enough to wrap up inside her arms. Her body will not be as touched by the affects of death.

I on the other hand do not have to live with the worries, the fears, and the dread. Each day of my pregnancy up until that fateful day we were blissfully unaware and were able to enjoy each day to the fullest.

The journeys are different, but the destination is the same. We've both had the rug yanked out from under us. We are both grieving the loss of not only our children but all the dreams we had for them. In the end we will have the same sleepless nights, the same night mares, the same hormone fluctuations, the same emptiness, the same instincts to care for our babies.

But most importantly we serve the same God. The God who knows our hearts and hurts over our sorrows. The God who made our children for HIS purpose and will use their short lives to profoundly touch this world. The God who says, don't look at the waves... the waves will drown you. Keep your eyes on Me... don't look away, not for a moment, and I promise I'll keep you from drowning in your pain.

Letter to NILMDTS...

Dear Madame,

I am writing to make a plea on behalf of parents who lose their children in the second trimester, following the loss of my son Caleb in January of this year. Caleb’s loss was an unexpected blow and with him died so many hopes and dreams we had for his life. Caleb was born at 17 weeks and 4 days, and though his body showed the affects of 5 days worth of maceration he was in every way perfect and exquisite.

A dear friend of mine is a photographer and when she asked me what I needed I simply asked her to come to the hospital and take pictures of our son. I knew that her camera and her abilities would leave us with something far better than what my own camera would provide. This has proved to be very true, while the few pictures we took with our point and shoot camera captured my son’s body when he was more fresh from the womb, they are grainy and very poor quality.

I cannot even begin to describe to you what having these pictures has done for me and the gift that I have been given. To have Caleb’s little life so honored and validated helps me tremendously in my grief. In addition these pictures can be used to help other families as they go through their loss and provide awareness of second trimester fetal development. Being able to pull up these pictures and once again see our son’s face, and his amazing little arms, legs, and feet… My heart hurts for moms, dads, siblings, and grandparents who don’t have pictures that show all the wonderful amazing details of their tiny little ones. And that they were indeed here. If I didn’t have these pictures of Caleb I’m sure I would doubt he was more than a dream.

After Caleb was born it was brought to my attention that he and babies like him are not accepted by NILMDTS. I’ve been told that a baby must reach 25 weeks of gestation to be eligible for NILMDTS.

This is a travesty! How is my son’s life… and the lives of others like him… less valuable than that of a baby a few weeks older? Were his hands and feet less precious?! Was he less amazing?! Was he less of a person because he was “only” a second trimester baby?!

I assure you, we mothers and fathers who lose our children in the second trimester grieve just as heavily as those parents who lose older babies. I felt my son move within me. We watched him dance and play on the sonogram. I held his cold little body in my hands, and I kissed his little face. He was perfect, he was ours, and our lives will never again be the same without him here.

Please, please don’t deny other parents the gift I have been given simply because their baby is too young. I beseech you to reconsider this guideline. The life of a 25 week gestation baby is not more valuable than that of a 16 or 17 week gestation baby. They are not loved or missed any more.

Sincerely,
Caleb’s Mommy

Made it through another week...

Day 47: My little bit of happy ~ finding Caleb's balloon!

Friday was Caleb's 7 week "birthday". Today we would have made it to 25 weeks and my boy would be a giant compared to the size he was at birth! It is still so hard to believe we will never bring him home, but this new normal is starting to settle a bit more comfortably with each passing day. There are of course days which are still quite heavy, but I don't cry every day and I don't feel panicky every day.

On our way back home from town that evening I realized that the snow had finally melted away and that I would finally be able to see Caleb's grave again, so I made a quick stop to the cemetary before AWANA. I thought I was going to try to retrieve remnants of the balloon we had placed on his grave, but to my surprise I found it still there, fully inflated. The snow had pushed it over at an odd angle, but hadn't squeezed the air out or popped it! I was beyond thrilled to find it there! So, instead of retrieving the empty balloon to put in Caleb's box I instead righted it and left it there where it belongs. The flowers are still there as well, but they have definately seen better days! I really need to order his marker, but The Super Hubbie and I haven't had a chance down and come to an agreement on what we want.

I saw this little baby outfit last night at Walmart, and it was like a punch in the gut. I wanted to buy it for Caleb. I almost did, just for the satisfaction of doing so, but decided against it.

Today I started a new Bible study with some women at church, and I am very excited about it! We have all been hemming and hawing about starting a Bible study and finally decided to just do it! We are doing Experiencing God, which I've really wanted to do for some time. I have heard only wonderful things about it!

In preparation for doing my first lesson I went out tonight and bought some pens.

I am a total pen snob. There, I said it. I haven't done much in the way of Bible journaling for the past few years because my kids always steal my pens and I will not use regular ole pens. Plus having a baby made it really difficult to sit down with my Bible, a journal, and a pen. But I'm going to start again! I just need to get a journal... kind of forgot that when I was out. I'm hoping the pens I got work out... my favorite pen maker stopped making my favorite pens so I have to find a new favorite. Not cool!!!

Wonder and amazement...

"For He knows how weak we are; He remembers we are only dust. Our days on earth are like grass; like wildflowers, we bloom and die. The wind blows, and we are gone— as though we had never been here. But the love of the Lord remains forever with those who fear Him. His salvation extends to the children’s children of those who are faithful to His covenant, of those who obey His commandments!"
~ Psalm 103:14-18

Day 44: My little bit of happy - buying easter outifits for 4 of 5 living children. I just need to get a shirt for Luke and something for me!

Today as The Super Hubbie was preparing to leave for work, our 2 year old daughter watched him with interest. Her incessant chatter brought a smile to both of our faces and much of what she said made us laugh.

As I listened to her and looked past her to her father, the man who holds my heart in the palm of his hand, I couldn't help but marvel. Our love made this miraculous creature! We made her! With God's help of course, but she came from us. I still can hardly believe she is really ours, that she is really here, and that we really get to keep her. At only 2 years old she is already such a remarkable person and I am so filled with awe at the feel of her in my arms, the spark in her eyes, the love in her heart, her wit, the way she so easily wraps her brain around concepts and how quickly she learns things... what an utterly beautiful package God sent her in...

And do you know what? All the shattered pieces of my heart came back together when I first saw Caleb. In that moment all of my grief was put on the back burner as I was so totally consumed with wonder and amazement that this wonderful man and I had made this little boy. This spectacularly tiny little creature was ours! He came from our love and my body grew and nurtured him.

He never saw the light of day, he never said anything funny or displayed an advanced intellect. I never saw him smile, he never clung to me when he was hurt. In the eyes of the rest of the world he never amounted to anything.

Yet he was just as remarkable and amazing as his sisters and brothers. Maybe more so, for his short life is bound to reach more hearts than theirs will. Without ever saying a word, without a glance, without taking a single step. He is amazing.

His body was perfect. Every branch of every vein, every bone, ever hair folicle perfectly placed. The shape of his muscles showed the delight he took in dancing in my womb. The last time I saw Caleb he was dancing. And now he dances in worship before the Lord of Heaven and earth. I bet his eyes sparkle and shine, just like his sister's do. And I bet he laughs because his heart overflows with joy.

I wonder sometimes if he misses us, but that wondering is quickly followed by the deep blessed assurance that being in the presence of Jesus overshadows anything our loved ones feel for those they have left behind. While I do think that Caleb is aware of us and remembers the comfort of his mama I don't think his thoughts fall to us often. He's too busy praising the Lamb that was slain (to Him be the glory and the honor forever, Amen!)!

As much as I miss Caleb, and as heavy as my heart is sometimes, I still feel that sense of awe and wonder about him. I still can't believe he is really ours; that we were so honored and blessed to see him, to hold him, to love him. While having Caleb brought so much heartache, he also brought so much joy. How many other parents have the privaledge of marveling over the miracle of their child's body when it is still so utterly tiny and helpless? I would give anything to have Caleb still here with us today, and I absolutely hate the fact that his dying and being born so early meant losing him.

But at the same time I count it such a privaledge that I got to witness first hand how amazing our children are when they are still so very dependant on their mother's body for life. I have held in my very own hands the evidence of how fragile and in need of protection these little ones are. I kissed his tiny head, held his tiny hands, and stroked his tiny little feet.

How can anyone see such a one and deny God is beyond my comprehension!

How can there be no Caleb?!

"My heart has heard You say, “Come and talk with Me.” And my heart responds, “Lord, I am coming.”"

~ Psalm 27:8

Day 41: My little bit of happy - getting Sarah's play room and my bedroom back in order!

Dear Caleb,

My heart and thoughts have been filled with you today. I carry you with me every day, but today for some reason you've been a constant present in my thoughts.

I think some of it comes from the utter silliness of your sister, Sarah. Her two year old antics have me so filled with joy that my heart asks the same question it has been asking since I first held her in my arms. "What would life be with no Sarah in it?!" But now that question is bittersweet because it begs another question...

What is life with no Caleb in it, sweet boy?! How am I supposed to live without your soft silky pudginess, your words, your playfulness? How am I supposed to live without you climbing onto my lap shoving a book in my face demanding "you wead me!" Or bringing me a crayon and paper saying "D'aw my name!" What is life without hearing you say my name in your own sweet way or wrapping your arms around my neck with a big squeeze and pressing your cheek against mine? How can I stand not watching your sister tie a blanket around your neck so you can run around the room announcing "I f'ying... I super baby!!!" How can I stand not having you climb up into my chair and into my lap insisting "I want you"?! Or climbing into my bed and snuggling up against me saying "I want you b'ankies" or "I want ma-ma"?!

I am coming out of my pregnancy fog, feeling more industrious and productive with each day. Conquring laundry, tackling dishes, eliminating clutter... It feels so odd coming out of the pregnancy fog with no baby to tend too. Today I crashed hard and ended up taking a 3 hour nap between 5 and 8 pm because I worked so hard today... and I didn't have a nursing baby to make me stop and sit a while.

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)

i am never without it(anywhere i go you go,my dear;

and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling)
i fear no fate(for you are my fate, my sweet)

i want no world(for beautiful you are my world, my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;

which growshigher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
by: ee cummings

Carrying you in my heart,

~ Mama

6 weeks and a precious gift...

"I love the Lord because He hears my voice and my prayer for mercy. Because He bends down to listen, I will pray as long as I have breath! Death wrapped its ropes around me; the terrors of the grave overtook me. I saw only trouble and sorrow. Then I called on the name of the Lord: “Please, Lord, save me!” How kind the Lord is! How good He is! So merciful, this God of ours! The Lord protects those of childlike faith; I was facing death, and He saved me. Let my soul be at rest again, for the Lord has been good to me."

~ Psalm 116: 1-7

Day 40: My little bit of happy - a Willow Tree figure from a friend at church!





On Friday I hit the 6 week post partum mark. Wow. Can it really be that it's been such a short time? And at the same time, has it really been so long? I miss my boy. So so so much. But emotionally I am doing very well. I am sad, and I am disappointed, but I am living life to it's fullest and enjoying every day I am given.


In the morning it will be Monday. The day when Caleb and I would have hit week 24 - the week when they are considered viable outside the womb. In our case it really doesn't make much of a difference since Caleb died before he was born, but at the same time it does give me pause.


Today I was given the sweetest of gifts! One of the mamas at church gave me a gift, the gift of a Willow Tree figure. We had been talking a few weeks ago about how lovely they are and she was saying that she has one representing each member of their family. In the conversation I had wanted to tell her about how I had wanted to buy one to remember Caleb by but had become to emotionally overwhelmed in the store and had to leave, but I couldn't tell her because I couldn't do it without bawling. So she didn't even know that I wanted one, but when she saw this one it reminded her of the pictures of Caleb and I. Does that sound like a God thing, or what?! I am so unbelievably moved by this, I just can't even express it.