When Mother's Day Makes You Miserable

One thing I never realized before our miscarriages was how difficult certain holidays can be for those in the midst of grief. One holiday, in particular, that tends to be difficult for those of us who have angel babies is Mother's Day.

I have two living children whom I adore. Mother's Day is special for me because of them. On the other hand, it's nonetheless a reminder that my home is not complete. Three of my children aren't here. Do I treasure my three-year-old and six-month-old? Absolutely. But one child does not negate another. Regardless of any future children I pray we are able to have, there is still a piece of  my heart that longs for my babies in heaven. My guess is, this longing will always be a part of my life on this earth.

I also know that many women aren't as lucky as I. I have two living children-two squirmy, goofy boys that I get to laugh with and cuddle. Some babyloss mothers don't have any surviving children. Then there are other women who have never been able to get pregnant-women who have tried for years, gone through infertility testing, maybe even pursued adoption, all to leave them empty-handed.

Please remember these women on Mother's Day. I'm not asking you to cover up your own happiness or stuff your own joy. But I am asking you to care about those around you, to mourn with those who mourn, as Paul wrote. This Mother's Day, reach out to those women in your circles who don't get to hold any babies, who don't get to celebrate, who maybe aren't even treated like mothers. Reach out to the moms with empty arms. 

So You Want to Adopt?

I'm so thrilled to have my friend, Mandy Campbell, sharing on my blog today. When Keith and I first began thinking about adoption, she was one of the first people I called. Her advice and support were invaluable. I asked her to write a post about adoption because several people have asked me to explain the process, and she knows far more about it than I. So...if you're wanting to adopt someday, I hope you'll take time to read this post. Without further ado, here's Mandy:

One of the questions I get the most when it comes to being an adoptive mother is this: "Where do we start now that we are ready to adopt?" The first step to any adoption is to do your research! There are several types of adoption from open, closed, to semi-open. Then there are several ways you go about adopting:  doing a private adoption, using an agency, or adopting through foster care.

First let’s break down the types of adoption and remember that an adoption and the limits within each adoption are up to the adoptive parents and birthparents. Our adoption, for example, is a closed adoption due to the birthparent's request. Closed Adoption means we have no contact with our daughter’s birthparents.  A Semi-Open Adoption can mean different limits, but to most it means letters, pictures and maybe even emails every 6 months and then yearly after the child turns one. An Open Adoption means that your child will see his or her birthparents and have visits with them at the limits of what is comfortable for you and your child’s birthparents. I have several friends that have very open adoptions that includes texting, emailing, and blogging with the birthparents. It is very important for the hopeful adoptive parents to know what limits they are comfortable with before going into an adoption. One thing as an adoption advocate that really fuels my fire is when adoptive parents promise the moon to birthparents and then don’t keep their word. Please realize how important it is that you have an honest relationship from the beginning of your adoption.

Happy Birthday, Eden

A beautiful tribute my parents made for Eden last year    

 For some reason, all the dates that circle around Eden are more difficult than those that circle around Jessie and Ella. I don't know if it's because she was our first loss or because I allowed myself to get more attached or what, but for some reason, her due date and loss date sting a little bit more than the others...

This week should be Eden's first birthday. On Friday, she should turn one. A friend of mine had her beautiful daughter a couple weeks before we should have delivered Eden. At first, this made it really difficult. It was hard to see her and think I should have one too. It was hard to celebrate with her when all I wanted to do was roll into a ball and cry.

But now, I feel a weird sense of peace when I look at that sweet baby girl. As I watch her grow, I can see what mine should have looked like. When she smiles and laughs, I can imagine Eden doing the same thing. The only difference is that she's doing it in Heaven instead of here on earth.

Happy first birthday, Eden. I hope Jesus gives you a big piece of cake to enjoy on your special day.

Why Do We Grieve?

When I was working on a post about what not to say to someone after she has miscarried, I had several women tell me what people had said to them. One of the comments was this: "Don't you think it's about time you got over it already?"

It is to that comment that I want to write today. I'm sure the motives of this person were good. I'm sure they thought that by encouraging her to move on, they would help. Good motives or not, though, this was not helpful.

Here's why: grief is weird. It's not something we can put on a timetable. It's not even linear. It's circular. It works its way through an individual with ups and downs. Even when someone feels like she has pretty much healed, grief can still rear its head again in the future.

As much as I hate the grieving process, I'm learning that it's really not all that bad. For one thing, it is through grief that we heal. Even more than that, though, it is through grief that we feel the depth of our love for someone.

Plain and simple: we grieve because we love.

I will NOT force myself to stop grieving, because I will not stop loving. Neither should you.

Why Easter Changes Everything

Last Easter, my husband and I were grieving the loss of two babies: Eden, whom we lost in October 2010 and Jesse, whom we lost in January of 2011. This Easter, we celebrated the gift of a new baby. A baby I never expected to receive.

It's amazing to me how God can turn around anything and make it new.

He used three miscarriages to bring us a baby. Death to bring life. Pain to bring beauty.

At a time when I didn't think God cared anymore, he proved that none of my tears went unnoticed. This past weekend, we celebrated Easter. For me, it was an Easter I'll never forget. Not because of the egg hunts or the time with family (though I enjoyed both) but because I think I finally understand what Easter is all about.

It's all about reversals.

On Friday, Jesus' disciples thought all hope was gone. On Sunday, God turned it all around.

On Friday, Satan thought he won. On Sunday, God proved the opposite.

On Friday, Jesus died and was buried. But on Sunday, His resurrection brought our restoration.

Death bringing life.
Pain bringing beauty.
Easter changes everything.

My Greatest Fear

I read this post a few weeks ago on a friend's blog, and it spoke to me so much that I wanted to share it with all of you. I hope it ministers to your hearts as well.

Please click here to read the post in its entirety.

God Loves Broken People by Sheila Walsh

When I first saw Sheila Walsh's new book, God Loves Broken People (And Those Who Pretend They're Not), I knew I had to read it. It's a book that deals with real issues facing people today. It doesn't give fluff answers to life's serious questions, but instead offers hope in the midst of pain.

If you've been reading this blog for very long, you know my story. Three miscarriages in one year led me to a deeper feeling of brokenness than I've ever experienced before. One of the primary questions I kept coming back to was this: "If God really loves me, why does he seem to be ignoring my prayers?"

I believed that God was capable of changing my circumstances. I knew he was able. So why didn't he? Why didn't he step in and do something? I didn't doubt God's power. I doubted his love. I assumed that if he were able to do something (but chose not to), then he must not love me as much as he said he did.