May 3rd

Tomorrow is May 3rd...Hannah’s day. Even though the actual event was six years ago now, the emotions are still as raw and as fresh as though it were yesterday. It’s a hard day to get through. I have to work and live as though nothing ever happened. My students won’t know. My coworkers won’t know. Our family as a whole sets aside mother’s day weekend every year to mark her short life and celebrste the short time we had her with us. A wise man once said that God can’t bless a man richly until He has hurt him deeply. Hannah leaving us was a deep hurt. It still hurts. Sometimes there are still dark days. However, I have been blessed richly. My beautiful son. If Hannah had not been taken, it’s doubtful he would be with us. He is so special, so happy, and brings us such joy. He didn’t and couldn’t replace Hannah but he was like a sweet balm on a deep wound. Then came Leah who was like the cherry on top of a sweet surprise. So tomorrow when I feel like being sad, I will get up early and make bottles for Leah and pack a sandwich (which is do most days for Joel) in a Spider-Man lunchbox. I will love my babies here...while I remember my baby “over there”. I will teach other people’s “babies” and attempt to mask my grief because that’s what I am called to do. I think Hannah would be proud of her mom in that moment. I will pray for my 1 in 4 Facebook group that BECAUSE of Hannah exists. I will reach out to those moms who have just recently walked through that dark valley of baby losses and love them and pray for them because of Hannah. Hannah’s life was short but oh so purposeful. So if you see me tomorrow and I am not fully myself...I’m ok. It’s ok. I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I don’t feel Bad for myself and I don’t need you to pity me or even hug me (I really don’t like hugs anyway). I’m not sad because I don’t know where she is or that she will never feel pain or suffering. I’m sad because we miss her and we loved her. But tomorrow I will muster the strength that comes from knowing the one who made Hannah and who, for HIS purposes and His plans, took her home. Happy heaven birthday, Hannah! We miss you

Baby Girl

Nothing about LJ was planned. I remember distinctly waking up the morning that I discovered I was pregnant and deciding it was stupid to "waste" a pregnancy test (and WHY are those tests so expensive anyhow?). But, I felt so lousy I decided it was worth the waste. After all, the result would for sure be negative since Joel was a living miracle...I doubted lighting could strike twice. When the test was the furthest thing from negative I started to shake a little. Ryan was out of town on a very important business trip and I knew I couldn't tell him because it could throw him off his game. So, I kept my secret for a whole day. The entire time I didn't dare get my hopes up. I mean, after all, we had been pregnant so many times and only one of them got to come live with us...so why get too excited? After I knew Ryan was done with meetings and business "stuff", I called him. I can't speak to how he felt, but if he felt like I did, it was something like total and utter shock, with a lot of joy sprinkled in for good measure. Then, we found out LJ would be a girl. The emotions overwhelmed me. We had wanted a girl for so long. We had our girl, but she never came home with us. I felt joy, terror, guilt, elation...a swirl of emotions that I could not really label them all. My baby showers came and went and with each frilly dress, my dread grew. What if I have to pack all these frilly pink things up like last time and give them away to someone who was not dealing with grief so intense it felt like you were buried under ten tons of rocks? But every appointment, she was healthy, she was strong, she was perfect in every way. Then, induction day came. I remember being induced with Hannah. I remember the sadness of knowing she would only be "with us" for a few more hours. I remember being induced with Joel and experiencing true labor for the first time. I remembered the joy beyond my wildest dreams when I heard him cry out. So, when the meds did their work and labor started with LJ, I knew from a physical stand point what I would be up against...but I did not plan on the emotions. After a VERY quick 10 minutes of active "pushing" (with a few moments of sheer terror when my midwife announced that LJ's cord was wrapped around her neck), she was here. I remember that little head of VERY dark hair being placed on my chest and I remember feeling the sting of hot tears, ugly cry style, coursing down my face. She was beautiful. She was alive. She was healthy. SHE was here. Many people have asked if Leah has "helped" with my grief or if I feel like we are a "complete" family now. It's a really hard feeling to describe. I know Hannah is in heaven, and though separated from us by death, she is still "one of us." However, the only thing I can say to describe having LJ with us now is that she brought a sense of healing. While it still hurts sometimes to talk about Hannah, while occasionally I have down days, LJ has helped to heal that deep, deep pain in my heart. I love that she has a personality all her own. I love that she has stretched my capabilities as a mother. I don't really love the sleep-deprivation side of it, but I do love those late night snuggles when I am alone in the living room, just LJ and I, and I can sing my old hymns to her without anyone hearing how badly I sing. I love how much Joel loves her and how there is no kind of love quite like that of siblings. I love that Joel, the most social kid you will ever meet, now will have a playmate. We are tired at our house. We have been stretched in every way. We are sleep deprived, we have piles of medical bills from bringing home a new baby...in the middle of a raging flu season. However, we are also thankful. We are grateful. We are blessed. I am trying not to miss the moments. She will be like all other second-born children. She has a baby book...but it has only a little bit written in it so far (with her brother I wrote down the date and time of his first sneeze...you get the picture). However, my mental camera roll is full. I will never forget when Ryan held his little girl for the first time. I cannot erase the image of Joel sauntering into the delivery room, bursting with pride, to meet her for the first time. The way Joel beamed at her when she came to meet his friends at school is forever stamped on my heart. The way our children's pastor cried (and in turn made me cry....post partum hormones are mean that way) when he met her for the first time still makes me cry a little. When she gave her daddy her first little gummy smile....I hope I never forget how that looked. Not only can I still smell it, but I still smile every time I think of that first really catastrophic diaper...let's just say I laughed and laughed and then threw the outfit in a bleach bath. The look on her face while I giggled at her dilemma was priceless. Her middle name had to be Joy. How else could we describe her. She is our Joy.