Tag Archives: miscarriage

Her heart spoke volumes

She has been a confidante, a friend, and most importantly an “adopted” grandparent. Grandma Ruth Lee is the matriarch of our church.  At 95 years young, she has been a guiding force in our lives for many years.  She is an encourager and prayer warrior, cementing her place in my heart one day over “coffee”.

As an organizer’s for our church’s National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Day service, I had no idea the first year would help Grandma Ruth. “We didn’t have those things back in the day.”  As a momma who has miscarried three babies, my heart momentarily leapt to my throat. Grandma Ruth lost a baby too? I never knew. Little did I know how much she really does understand the longing to want to hold your baby, one more time!

Grandma Ruth grew up on the South Dakota prairie in a home where “God was always with her”.  Recently she shared how relieved she was to learn Ruth Graham didn’t have a special faith acceptance day either.  God was just always with her, and so too, was her mom.  She was mother, friend, and sister to Ruth as an only child.  Even in her 90’s, she still speaks reverently of her parents and her childhood. She went to college to become a teacher, fell in love with her high school sweetheart, and lived a very quiet life. . . until America joined World War II.

Leaving her classroom in Iowa for a few short days, she traveled to Mississippi to marry her love.  Ruth and Bob Lee were wed on Christmas Day in 1941 in the manse of the Presbyterian church.  Without today’s fanfare, they celebrated by going to the movies with the couple who stood up for them. She felt an urgency to return to her school and didn’t tarry long enough to have the honor of pinning her newlywed’s wings.  Today, she laments that decision, following her brain and sense of duty, rather than following her heart and staying for the formal aviators’ graduation.

Her trip “home” was not without complications, however.  The taxi which was supposed to pick her up never arrived, prompting she and Bob to walk to the station.  They arrived in time to see the train pull away.  She had to wait until the next day for the next northbound railcar, which broke down halfway back to Iowa, causing her to resort to telegraphing the school along the route.  Exhausted, she returned four days later than expected.

B17 Super Fortress World War 2 Bomber

B17 Super Fortress World War 2 Bomber

She finished the school year, and along the way discovered she was expecting their first child.  Grandma Ruth returned home to live with her parents while her beloved was halfway around the world flying fifty-one missions at the helm of a B-17 flying fortress.  Waiting for the arrival of a new baby was a delicate time when your husband was serving his country thousands of miles away.

When I first met Grandma Ruth, she was already the matriarch of a family and a church family.  The momma of four and grandmother of many, she loved our family like her own offering comfort to us when our oldest son died. The story I learned a decade after first meeting Grandma was their precious David Paul was born, but lived a little more than an hour. She wrote every day to Bob, but the only letter he ever received was the one informing him of his baby son’s death.  Upon learning the news, all he wanted to know was if his girl was doing okay.

Over coffee one morning, she quietly shared she knew exactly the first thing she was going to do when she got to heaven.  I’m going to rock my baby. I have never forgotten the moment. Many years had passed between her baby passing and our coffee time, but a momma’s heart never forgets. I believe God knows her heart’s desire too, and I am hoping when she gets there, he will have the rocking chair ready.

He comes alongside us when we go through hard times, and before you know it, he brings us alongside someone else who is going through hard times so that we can be there for that person just as God was there for us.  2 Corinthians 1:4 (MSG)

Is there someone in your life today to whom you can offer comfort? Can your story offer hope and healing to another? Grandma Ruth may never know how much her story, shared over a coffee (and a Coke) and some Hardee’s biscuits changed my life forever.  While she was most definitely Bob’s girl, more importantly she is God’s! When to the rest of the world ours is a quiet – often not spoken – hurt, God’s girl, Ruth, boldly shared her heart which gave life-changing, life-breathing hope to mine. Instead of a rocking chair, I think I am going to ask God to have the front porch swing ready when I arrive . . . with toes dangling my babies and Reed and I will swing away.

Sitting with her dear friend, V, Grandma Ruth on the right at her surprise party at our church!

Sitting with her dear friend, V, Grandma Ruth on the right at her surprise party at our church!

Note: October is National Infant and Pregnancy Loss Remembrance Month.  If you have experienced the same pain my “Grandma” and I have, please know our hearts are with yours!

12 days: It’s a Wonderful Life

One of the classes I taught on my recent blog hiatus was Anthropology. Since I am a chemistry and mathematics teacher, social studies was a stretch because outside of required courses for liberal arts I had not really studied these areas in detail for quite a while. I am well read and a lover of history which helped, but I still spent hours in the evening reading all sorts of material that I thought would benefit the students in my classroom. The final unit for the Anthropology class was a cultural anthropology project where the scholars would study their own families and traditions. As I was outlining the expectations for the unit, the students asked for examples for each one.

When we got to favorite family memory, I honestly choked up a little bit. I explained that I had many as a child, but my most favorite memory as an adult occurred on the day my youngest child was born. I told them about the magical moment our family shared that first night together, but my storytelling didn’t include the background of why it is my most precious memory.

Our family lost two babies between our two daughters, and one of those babies is the twin to the little girl celebrating her tenth birthday. Our daughter Erin’s birth was so traumatic that we weren’t sure if we wanted to have more children, but God certainly had other plans. Yet losing two babies within 6 months of each other was more than all of our hearts could take. Following the second loss, I became very ill at school and passed out. When I was at the doctor, they asked if I could be pregnant. Reminding them that 6 weeks previous we had a miscarriage, there was no way I could be pregnant. Imagine my shock when I learned that indeed I was still pregnant with a second baby.

We waited to tell our children because of their brave, but tender hearts. When we finally did, they were excited, but after we put everyone to bed that night, Reed came with tears in his eyes asking us the question heaviest on his heart. “Mom and Dad, are we going to lose this baby too? Because if we do, I just don’t think my heart can handle it.” There was nothing we could do beside hug our redheaded boy and cry and pray with him.

Five people held their breath until that beautiful December day when on her own terms she came into the world. But if there is one thing true about the members of Team Stevens, we live life. We celebrate the big things, but we specialize in the little stuff. Because the big kids were in school at the moment their baby arrived, we decided to get some sleep ourselves (having been up through the night) and our meet-n-greet would occur as soon as school was out.

The moment was joyous. We all breathed a collective gasp of relief, as we prepared to be a family of six here on earth. My sweetie and I had a plan long in the works for how we wanted to spend the evening. The big kids were ecstatic when they learned the details. In addition to the hospital bag with necessities for momma and baby, we sneakily had a bag packed with favorite Christmas movies.

Although it took some coordination with hospital staff, we requested no visitors so we could simply bask in the glow of happiness and joy at receiving one of God’s most beautiful blessings. We had food brought in; shut the door, and all four kids snuggled into the hospital bed with me, daddy tucked in the rocking chair bedside. Our first team huddle was under blankets while watching Christmas favorites on the OB floor; all six of us snuggled so close because we didn’t want to forget one moment.

When I was little, I only wished for two things when I grew up – to be a momma and a teacher. I never imagined the journey either of those dreams would take me. Nestled under cotton blankets, I breathed in every moment of the way God made that happen (once again) at our baby’s very first movie night.

My biggest accomplishment!

My biggest accomplishment!

Mary’s heart (Had I known?)

Many years ago, I attended a Christian mom’s conference. In attendance was a recording artist, who I wish that I could remember her name. At the conclusion of the two-day event, she sang a song that asked and answered what she would have done if she was Mary, the mother of Jesus. Her song moved me to tears. At the time, I had just recently used my experience as a miscarriage mom to help one of my friends through the loss of a baby. The song ripped the recently formed new scab on an old scar.  Losing a child at any point is a tender wound for life.

This week a new friend shared a question that brought her some comfort following the death of her daughter. “Would you have done anything differently if you had known?” I think this is a question grieving parents often ask themselves. I know that I do. Of course, there are trillions of things we would do differently. What the heart would choose, however, is so vastly different than life’s reality. What truly matters is God chose us to be the parents of Reed (and our three miscarried babies), and we loved them all the very best ways we could.

Today marks an anniversary in God’s love story that is both mourned and celebrated by Christians worldwide, now and throughout history. Symbolically representing the day Jesus had his last supper, The Last Supper, with his disciples, we remember the words he tried to convey about what was coming. For me, like the words sang at that conference, I have to wonder if Mary understood what he meant. Did she know? If she did, would she have done anything differently?

I have been thinking what her thoughts would have been like for about a month now.

Tomorrow, our church will host a Good Friday service with various members acting out what it might have been like for witnesses to Jesus’ life and death. I am one of the participants, playing Jesus’ mom. I will admit to being honored in the asking, but will readily confess that the writing of this script was more challenging than I could have ever imagined.

I have spent time thinking about Mary’s life through a lens that I never had before – that of a grieving mom. Do not get me wrong! As much as I love him, Reed was not the Savior of the world. That hasn’t been the challenge. The difficulty lies in knowing the pain of losing a child, the anguish that a mother feels. I know what I wanted to do (and did); so, I can only imagine that Mary wanted to do (and perhaps did) some of the same things.

All her questions waiting to be answered simply did not make sense while her beautiful baby boy hung on a cross. Waiting to see how God would use this hurt definitely resonates between her heart and mine. Baring her heart and soul and not knowing where it would lead, I understand that too. Knowing that today, this pain is the greatest, hardest, most challenging difficulty I have ever endured as well as not knowing if I could physically, emotionally, spiritually, intellectually, and mentally weather a blow of this magnitude. Those are shoes I can comfortably wear.

Trying to get inside her head, feeling that I could understand her heart, was an emotional task. Throughout all my preparations, I just wanted to hug her. To tell her that she would survive this, she would be able to get through it, and with God’s help, she would someday feel joy again.

But then again, tomorrow is only Friday, and Sunday’s coming.

cross

The day came when she knew all of those things for herself.

Easter has always been my favorite holiday, but since the death of my son, the death (and more importantly RESURRECTION) of God’s (and Mary’s) son has the utmost significance to me. That comforting hug I want to share with Mary? Someday, because of the willing obedience of her Son, I will get to do just that.

But on that day, there will be no tears. My questions will lose their significance, as I can only imagine so did Mary’s.

No tears. No sadness. Only JOY!

Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal! Thomas Moore

 

 

The thing about grief . . . Part 8

from www.aquietsimplelife.com

from www.aquietsimplelife.com

Parental Warning:   I don’t really think that I have a strong following of teenagers or kids, but if someone does read these blogs to kids, please pre-read.  I am sharing something of a somewhat graphic nature today.  It is probably best not to have the kiddos read this one without any discussion.

I truly believe that there is no such thing as coincidence.  Looking back in my life, I see circumstances where there was a person to meet, a challenge to tackle, or a lesson to be learned.  All part of God’s plan for my life’s direction.  Since my actual vision is quite myopic, I can speak as an expert – one who has amazing 20/20 hindsight. It’s just too bad it sometimes takes years to for my vision to become so clear.

Sometimes God uses otherwise innocuous events – a telephone call, a card from a friend, the words in my morning devotional.  On the latter one, I have been known to call friends who have the same devotional just to confirm that they had the same words on their page because it seemed to be written just for me.  God’s wisdom has been revealed to me by really listening to the words spoken by others (even on television on occasion).  At times the airing of songs on the radio seems divinely appointed just for me.

Tonight I have tickets for the Third Day concert.  This was my Christmas present from my earthly love, who will be my date.  In my excitement for the evening, I started thinking about the radio station (Life 96.5) and the band that played a song for my heart in what was possibly one of the darkest hours of my life.

I was transported back to October 2003, when I was four months pregnant with what would have been our fifth pregnancy.  While watching the World Series, I started to feel little cramps, but I felt better after lying down. By Monday at school, I had to step out of my classroom because whatever was going on wasn’t better.  In fact, it was drastically worse. Having gone down this road before, I sadly suspected I was having a miscarriage.

An hour later, our fears were confirmed.  My doctor who understood my wishes for the least amount medical intervention necessary gave me two options: a D&C or go home and wait out the passing of my child from my body.  We chose the latter.  I could have returned to school, but I elected to stay home, not wanting to have this intensely private moment in the “public eye”.  There were no guarantees on time limits.  This waiting could have went on until full-term, and I wasn’t ready to be out in the world with my pain.

To keep my mind busy, I started doing projects around the house, all the while listening to uplifting music.  Every day, I would awaken thinking that today could be the day.  I was scared, terrified really, but I just kept going.  Thursday of that very week, the time came.  I was home alone.  Grief was the deepest crevasse that began to swallow me.

I literally laid on the cold, bathroom tile and sobbed. After some time, I got up off the floor to get a drink of water.  While standing at the kitchen sink, a song I had never heard before came on the radio.  For whatever reason, my spinning head paused long enough to allow the words to penetrate my soul.  I don’t even know how it was possible, but my anguish turned to praise.  From the artists’ words, I knew that the shell of person on the bathroom floor had been loved enough by God for Him to allow his baby to die for me. That same baby loved me enough to go through deeper anguish than my own to be there for me in that tiny little kitchen.

In the period of maybe ten minutes, I went from crumpled on the floor to standing in kitchen with hands held high in praise.  My grief was far from over. I would have to walk through that as well.  The change came, however, from a heart empty and hopeless transformed to hope-filled.

I have included a video of that song below.  The Third Day band members and my “friends” at Life 96.5 have never heard this story, but on one October day that what they do mattered . . . and it still does.

God can use something as small as a song on a radio station to change hearts, I know because I am living proof.

A letter to my little girl

Dear Savannah Kate:

Hey Katydid!  It has been a while since I had a chance to write specifically to you.  Just because I don’t write or talk about you, Timothy, and Noah as much as Reed, Sawyer, Erin or Cloie doesn’t mean that I love you any less.  In fact, there are some days that I just plain miss the things that I never got to experience with the babies I carried, but did not hold.

I wanted to write to you because this past weekend I missed you so much that my heart literally ached.  Your oldest cousin, Derek, got married to the love of his life, Jeannette.  When it was time for family pictures, one was taken with the cousins, I had to step away.  Daddy saw me sobbing, and he didn’t have to ask.  He just knew that it was because in my imagination I could picture all seven of my children posing (okay, most likely hamming it up) in that picture.

Katydid, your twin sister was the flower girl.  She looked adorable in her dress, but it was her bouncing curls that had me mesmerized.  I often wonder how similar the two of you would be.  Does your hair curl just like hers? Or do you have red curls like your namesake while Cloie has dark curls like hers? Do you love superheroes and fighting evil villains just like she does?  Would you giggle the same or be as mischievous?  Do you sing as beautifully?  (On that last one, I use my dreams to believe you sparkle and shine in the heavenly chorus.) 

At the wedding reception and dance, the broken places in my heart received some patching as all of us in Daddy’s family pitched in to work, but more importantly to love together.  Simply put, we had fun. Once the dance started, I had to stifle my giggles watching those bouncy curls as Cloie spun, twirled, and shimmied. The best was the ballroom dancing that she and Kimberly performed complete with big finishes at the end of the song.  All the while those curls bounced, I kept thinking what the two of you would be like together.

I don’t really care what other people say because I genuinely miss you.  Tonight is the night that we get to remember you and the boys.  Last year, I asked the other kids if they enjoy going to the October 15th candlelight remembrance or if it was a chore to them.  Their response made me cry.  Not only because it was sweet and humble, but more so that they “got it”.  Their unified response was summed up by Sawyer.  “Mom, we all have birthdays and other special holidays just for us kids.  This is the one day a year that we have special for Noah, Tim, and Savannah; so, no it isn’t a chore, but more so an honor to remember our siblings this day each year.”

So tonight, Katydid, for the annual October 15th National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Candlelight Remembrance we will be lighting candles in memory of you three babies.  Even though we never met you, you and the boys made a difference in this world . . . even if that difference was to change our hearts so that we could help others.

I love you always, sweet girl, and someday in Heaven, I can’t wait to hold you.

Love, Momma

Note: For more information on today, please visit www.october15th.com

My family and I will be remembering at a special service hosted annually at our church.  Please contact me, if you would like more information.