Counting it ALL Joy

This Sunday will be James’s first birthday. There will be no smash cake, no adorable photo shoot, no big party to celebrate our baby getting another year older. Just reminders of all of the things we missed out on this year. No first laughs, no sleepless nights because he isn’t feeling well, no tummy time or learning to crawl. 

It’s so lonely when normally happy, joyful moments are clouded with a yearning for what you were supposed to have. I had a new niece born this summer and she is so beautiful.  I LOVE when I get to see her and spend time with her. But I so long to be passing along advice to my baby sister about what worked with James when he started teething, or how we got him to sleep through the night the first time. I can’t though, because that was taken away from us.

When we were finally ready to start trying to have another baby, we got two pink lines the very first month! For five days I was so excited. For five days I knocked the dust off the old nursery plans. For five days I started thinking about baby names & holiday plans & how we would tell our family the good news – we were going to announce on Mother’s Day.

Then, after five days, I learned what it was like to lose a baby that I never had a chance to name. I discovered that five days is long enough to become a mom again. Five days is long enough for the grief that comes after to pull you under. Five days matters.

During the eight months between losing James and losing our second baby I can’t count the number of times I said, “I don’t know what it’s like to have a miscarriage.” I encountered so many people who were walking paths of infertility that included devastating miscarriage after miscarriage and I felt so inept to offer support, because I knew that what I had gone through with James was different.

I thought what I had gone through with James was harder than a miscarriage, and in a lot of ways it was. But all of the things that made losing him so much harder, were the same things that allowed us to experience joy even in the sadness. I felt James kick. I heard his strong heartbeat. I held his precious, beautiful little body.

I experienced none of those joys with my second very brief pregnancy. Does that make it easier? Maybe. I don’t think about that baby every single day. I don’t imagine it’s little face when I hold my niece. While I’m incredibly sad about losing it, I have no memories of that baby aside from some mild nausea and two pink lines.

Two losses in such a short time are not fair. I’m still dealing with a lot of anger, but I also appreciate the perspective that our second baby gave me. We have amazing pictures from our time with James that we haven’t shared because it was too hard, but if my miscarriage taught me anything, it was to hold on tight to those memories. Most women who lose their babies don’t get those moments. I want to remember every detail of our precious boy and every minute that God gave us with him.

When James was born I bought a lot of scrapbooking supplies because I was going to put together a baby book that told his story. I wanted something to remember his time with us, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to start working on it until now. With James’s first birthday coming up it is time. I’m looking at pictures again, and it’s bringing back a lot of really tough emotions. It’s also reminding me that we were so lucky to have that time with him. We were so fortunate to have an amazing friend in Amanda Morgan who was willing to come to the hospital at 9pm on a Saturday night and stay until 4:30 in the morning capturing the moments that we will spend the rest of lives trying to never forget.

A lot of you purchased the necklace I designed last year when we were building James’s Memorial Garden. Your support was so overwhelming and we are so grateful to have such a loving community around us. This year I’m hoping to sell just as many James’s Joy Necklaces because 50% of the proceeds will be going to Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep in memory of James. This non-profit provides photography services for parents like us who are dealing the their worst nightmare & trying to capture some joy to hold onto.

Several have already responded. If you are one of them thank you so much! If you haven't had the opportunity yet, I would love your help. Maybe you or someone you know needs one of these necklaces as a reminder to count it all JOY. Maybe you could share James’s story on Social Media so your friends and family can know how special our little boy was to so many of us. Maybe you just want to make a direct donation to Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep in memory of James, I would love that too.

We will celebrate his birthday this weekend. It won’t be a typical first birthday party with a lot of guests and presents and cake. It will simply be time spent in his garden loving on our family. We are still grieving, and probably always will be, but this weekend will be about the Joy he brought into our lives for a season, and the lessons that we learned about faith and family through his short life.

It's going to be an emotional week, thank you in advance for your prayers and all your support.

Unrest

My heart is so heavy. The past few weeks have been full of moments that slam the breath right out of me and drop me to my knees with overwhelming grief. Two weeks ago, in the middle of an ordinary day, something as simple as a promotional mailer set my world in a bit of a tailspin that I haven't pulled out of yet. My conscience is waging a constant war against the angry woman inside of me screaming for people to be more appreciative, more considerate, less self-absorbed. While this righteous anger is swirling in my gut, I'm also admonishing myself for the same self-absorbed thinking that can't seem to forget that the rest of the world isn't living my experience.

This tug of war that goes on inside of me spills out in angry sobs and makes me want to hide under the covers and pretend the rest of the world hasn't continued to go on as though my son never existed.

I battle the depression and anxiety as I always have, essentially throwing myself into project after project to keep me busy. While this works to keep me active and in society rather than tucked into my bed for days on end, it doesn't really help. It only buys time between meltdowns.

I haven't been spending much time listening to God lately. I've been talking at Him a lot, but then I cut Him off and throw myself into the next project. I'm not sure why I've taken that distance. Maybe I want to hang on to my righteous anger. Maybe being angry is easier than being hurt and sad. Maybe I'm afraid that He will ask me to give up a project or two. 

Back in January I went to a weekend conference where Angie Smith was the speaker. She was talking about grief and anger and pointed out that God is big. He doesn't have a problem with our anger. He only asks that we come to Him with it. That makes sense to me. I think back over the years and there have been plenty of relationships that had to be repaired with uncomfortable conversations that started with, "I love you, but you really hurt me." Or even, "I'm really mad at you right now and I need some time to calm down."

I think that is where I am with God. I'm hurt and angry because I know that He could have saved my son. He could have chosen to heal my James and I wouldn't be so bitter or heartbroken. The problem is I haven't really told Him yet. I talk to Him about other things, about other people's needs, then I cut Him off before we can go deeper. 

God, I'm hurt. I've seen You work miracles for other people, but You didn't do it for me. I know that is petty, but I'm jealous of the other moms who bring home healthy children, some without even trying. I know people aren't having babies to make me jealous. I know people are complaining about parenting because it is legitimately hard work, not because they want to rub it in my face that they have children at home. Even though I'm angry, I do still love You. I know that You love me too, and that ultimately You do want good things for me. I think I just needed a little time. This conversation is really uncomfortable but I know we need to have it. Now that I've said all that, I think I'm ready to listen again.

In the Garden

Yesterday marked a year since we saw those two pink lines that said we would be parents. This Christmas has been incredibly difficult for Jason and I but it was filled with love and family. Last night we came home from Christmas Eve Mass and I discovered that Jason had strung lights on one of the trees in the garden "for James". My carefully maintained facade cracked and we sobbed in one another's arms. This Christmas, while wonderful, was not what it was supposed to be, at least as far as we'd planned.

We dedicated James's Garden Thanksgiving Weekend and the month since has been so difficult for us. There are days that the grief is so heavy I feel I could simply collapse beneath it, but mostly I drown myself in busyness to avoid emotions and search out small things to be happy about. 

Planning this garden was very enlightening. I learned that it is often when a plant appears to be bare and without much chance at survival that it has the most growth. Tonight I stood in James's Garden and saw the new life we planted just weeks ago is now wilting and bare. How encouraging to think that perhaps this barren and desolate time will not only lead to growth for these trees and plants, but might bring about something beautiful in us as well.

It comes as little surprise to me that the most profound connection I've felt with God during this time relates to another garden. The night before his crucifixion Jesus prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane. In the Gospel of Matthew he says, "Oh My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me". I was right there beside Jesus asking God if there wasn't some other way.

When we came home from the doctor the Thursday before Easter (coincidence? I don't think so) after receiving James's diagnosis I was begging God not to ask this of us. We knew we couldn't let our baby go. Still, I couldn't imagine being able to survive the pain if he didn't make it. I began to pray that if James couldn't survive for God to please take him from us and spare us that pain. I am so very grateful that God stamped His all knowing NO on that prayer.

We loved James so much already and we hadn't even met him yet. We knew that if there was even the smallest chance he could make it we had to do everything in our power to give it to him.

Ya'll that's what Jesus did for us when he said, "if this cup cannot pass away from me unless I drink it, Your will be done." He hadn't met us yet, but He loved us so much already. He knew that going to the cross was the only chance we had, so He gave it to us.

Obviously I'm not Jesus, but I realized that when it came to understanding what I was feeling, he knows better than any one.

A few days after the crucifixion, in another garden, Jesus appeared to a grieving and distraught Mary. He'd been resurrected just as He'd promised. Still, she didn't even recognize him through her grief. In the middle of intense sadness it is hard to remember His promises. I can tell you I have been there, and still am many days. Often I am so overwhelmed with grief that I don't recognize He is walking right alongside me.

But He is. I could tell endless stories of all the amazing people that God has put right in front of me through this journey. Sometimes I know immediately that He is at work through them and other times it becomes clear much later. No matter when I catch on though, He is always there.

One of the incredible things about James's Garden is that while we sit and remember our son, we are looking out at reminders of all of our blessings. Listening to the peaceful sound of the fountain, I'm looking at the home Jason and I are making. I see the fire pit where we make wonderful memories with our friends. On the occasions our yard is full of nieces and nephews playing, I know that one day we will have little ones joining in the fun. 

I will never be able to fully express the gratitude we have for all of the help and contributions that made this vision of ours a reality. James's Garden will continue to be a work of love for years to come. I look forward to helping my future children plant flowers near the fountain while telling them them all about their brother in heaven and how very special he is. His story isn't over. He continues to make me a better person for having been his mom. One day, in a new garden, I will hold my sweet baby again. Until that day comes I will do my best to make the most of his life, by doing as much good as I can with mine. 

Today we are celebrating the birthday of a Savior who made that possible. Cherish your families. Hug them a little tighter tonight for me, and have a very Merry Christmas. 

Blessings

Shortly after we learned about James's encephalocele my sister sent me a playlist of songs that she thought would encourage me. One of those was Blessings by Laura Story. This was the song that I played anytime I found myself alone and needing comfort. The lyrics were so true where they said, "what if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You're near". I've grown up in a christian family and I've had a relationship with God for the vast majority of my years on this earth. Still, I have never felt God's nearness the way I have this year. I've grown stronger in my faith and I honestly feel this experience is making me a better person than before.

Let me pause here to say something important. It is so easy to say "everything happens for a reason" when we don't know what else to say. However, I simply don't believe that there was a reason my son had to die. I believe that God created a perfect world that became imperfect through disobedience. I believe that the human race has continued to sin and make bad decisions since the beginning of time and that has perpetuated the fact that bad things happen. God doesn't cause the heartache in our lives; He sees it coming and prepares us for it. When tragedy strikes and we call out to Him; He will answer us. Sometimes He gives us a miracle. Sometimes He uses the pain and heartache - if we let Him - to shape us and give us blessings we never imagined.

Chapter 5 in the Gospel of Matthew is familiar to most of us. We quote it often to remind ourselves that life won't always be easy, but God uses those circumstances to bless our lives.

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."

Matthew 5: 3-10 NIV

One of the many blessings we have received is the courage for me to change directions with my career. Instead of working full time and creating on the side, I now work part time to focus on building my business with the goal of eventually being a work from home mom. From the moment I began designing James's Joy I started to think of other scriptures and songs that inspired me and I decided that I would create a special line for these designs. This Blessings necklace is the second in that collection. A beautiful little reminder that sometimes His "blessings come through raindrops".

What if Your blessings come through raindrops? What if Your healing comes through tears? What if a thousand sleepless nights is what it takes to know You're near? What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise?

Blessings, Laura Story

You can find this and other Inspired designs in my shop HERE.

#projectmended

I gritted my teeth as I raised my arms above my head and threw the black trash bag to the ground. I heard the shattering of clay and watched the bag break to release a few larger pieces of the pot. The emotional release brought me to tears. I'd been waiting six weeks to break something.

Let me rewind for you. While I was pregnant with James I read a book called "I Will Carry You" by Angie Smith. It was good to read someone else's story and be able to say 'yes, that's exactly how it feels'. After James was born I had a devotional, "Grieving the Child I Never Knew" that my cousin had given to me. It was another great book with stories I needed to hear and more soul screams of "Exactly!" It has always been helpful for me to have a book or devotional to help focus me in my quiet time and help me read my bible with purpose. So I did some digging and found that Angie Smith has written more books and bible studies since I Will Carry You. I decided that Mended would be a good one for me. I read the introduction and the first chapter and then set it aside. She suggests breaking a piece of pottery and gluing it back together. I wanted to do that before I got started on the book and after a couple of conversations I convinced my mom and two of my sisters to do it with me. We went for breakfast and then to Hobby Lobby with 40% off coupons in search of things to break.

We spent the afternoon around my moms kitchen table with glue guns and broken pottery listening to music, making observations (and a few jokes) about how our pieces were like us and of course crying. As I got closer to finishing my pot I made the observation that the point of impact where my piece was the most broken and impossible to completely put back together was the most beautiful part of the pot. As I said it out loud tears started to pour down my face and there was no stopping them. I didn't even realize how much I was crying at first. I burned myself pretty badly with the glue gun and realized that I'd done as much repair as I could. I was finished trying to put the pot back together. 

I'm so broken right now. I looked forward to this season as one of the happiest and most beautiful ones of our life together. I planned to take an extended maternity leave so I could soak up the hours with our little one. I should have been planning a nursery, not a memorial garden. I should be deciding what adorable onesie James is going to wear today, not picking out planters for his fountain. This, the point of impact, was supposed to be a beautiful and happy time. Now it is shattered, and I've done the best I can to put it back together, but I can't. Now I have to trust God to spill out through the cracks and show me how it can still be used for His glory.

I know He will. I know we will be better people for having walked through this season with Him by our sides. He will help us heal. We will be mended.