Grief

Grief is a strange creature. It comes and goes as it pleases, seemingly more heightened in the face of friends' joy. It pricks you when you want to be happy for someone else, reminding you of all that could have been.

A friend who is expecting a baby at about the time that Donna Rose should have been born posted ultrasound pictures of his little girl and I just bawled. I would be doubly sad if he and his wife lost their little girl the way I lost mine. So, why does it pain me to hear his marvelous news? Why can I not share in the joy that new life brings?

Maybe it's because my little girl would have been three weeks old today if she had lived. Three weeks ago, I was asking them to give me an epidural because the physical pain was so great. I was tired, I was dizzy from the other medication they'd given to dull the pain, and I was grieving, knowing that my beautiful baby wasn't going to make it.

There is no epidural for grief.

Week 3

I'm so blessed in the people I know, especially my family and fiance. Ben insisted that we go visit my family. He felt I needed them. It was nice to have a little snuggle time with my niece and nephew. I don't know of anything more healing than unconditional love, and particularly unconditional love from children. I think Ben needed them as much (or more) than I did. Ben has been comfort enough for me.

I know I've scared him a couple times over the last month. It's really hard not to get angry and blame my body for not protecting my little girl. I know I couldn't have done anything to prevent her being born, but I can't help but feel a little defective. My body didn't do what it was supposed to and she's gone. I couldn't keep her safe. I feel helpless and hurt and guilty. There was a day this last week when it took huge effort to do anything. Ben made me get up and go shopping (grr on him for making me go alone). And I worry that this will happen again. I know I could not handle losing another baby and with the odds being so high (1 out of every 3 pregnancies ends because of infection.) it's frightening to think of trying again someday.

And then there's the grief Ben doesn't know about. I can't shower without crying. That was where I sang to baby and shared my dreams for her with her. Every shower brings with it a shower of pain. Every time I lay down, a wave of grief sweeps over me because I can feel that she is not tucked safe away inside mommy. Ben's seen me cry at night, but I doubt he knows what sparks it. Any time alone is questionable. Sometimes I manage just fine, but there are times when all I can do is cry because the only thing besides me in the room is a feeling of loss. It does get easier with time. But the ache for my baby will never entirely disappear.

To Donna Rose

My dear daughter,

It has now been a week since you were born and your father and I held your lifeless body in our arms. I can't tell you how much we miss you. It's hard for your mommy to know that she can never hold you again. But you are with Jesus and he will hold you as much as you need holding. And he will hold your hand when it needs holding.

I looked yesterday for some bible verses to be used at your memorial service next week. You know, Jesus has a special place in his heart for little children. And I know that he prizes your innocence and purity. I know that he weeps for the pain your father and I are in. We are finding comfort in each other, but we miss you. You are a part of both of us and we will never forget what you have meant to us.

Love,

Mommy

“As you do not know the path of the wind, or how the body is formed in a mother’s womb, so you cannot understand the work of God, the Maker of all things.” Ecclesiastes 11:5

“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart. Do not be afraid… for I am with you… declares the Lord.“ Jeremiah 1:5,8

“For thou hast possessed my reins: thou hast covered me in my mother's womb. I will praise thee; for I am fearfully [and] wonderfully made: marvellous [are] thy works; and [that] my soul knoweth right well. My substance was not hid from thee, when I was made in secret, [and] curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being unperfect; and in thy book all [my members] were written, [which] in continuance were fashioned, when [as yet there was] none of them.” Psalms 139: 13-16

“But Jesus called them to him, saying, ‘Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God.’” Luke18:16

“For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Romans 8:38-39

Keith Green – Psalm 23

Mercy Me – Jesus Bring the Rain

It is well with my soul

Amazing Grace

Jeremy Camp – There will be a day

Goldilocks and the Three Bears

In my hometown, there is a free theme park for kids called Storybook Land. Storybook Land has all sorts of things for kids to do. It’s a wonderful place. Everything there is based off of nursery rhymes, fables, and fairy tales. One of the exhibits illustrates the story of Goldilocks and the three bears. There’s something funny about the exhibit though. Laying in a small bed is a little blond girl. Standing over her in shock are Mama Bear and Papa Bear, but Baby Bear is nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps the bear family is like my own. When I learned I was pregnant, Ben was extremely delighted, immediately calling friends to tell them he was going to be a daddy. I was a little more nervous, knowing that my parents would be disappointed that I’d chosen to start my family outside the bans of marriage. Ben immediately decided that we were the three bears. He was Papa Bear, I was Mama Bear, and our little one was our little cub, our little baby bear. “Cubby” became our nickname for our little one.

My pregnancy seemed very normal. For the first three months, I felt ill every day. I had to adjust my diet both for nutritional reasons and to keep food down. Month four hit, and the illness magically stopped. We were thrilled, we’d hit the golden period of pregnancy and we would soon be able to see our beautiful baby. We entered week 19 and I went in for my ultrasound. They told us she was a girl and we were thrilled. She was beautiful and everything was perfect.

And then in week 21, for unknown reasons, I gave birth and delivered our daughter. She was beautiful and tiny, and the doctors said, when I went into labor, that she could not live outside my womb. Ben and I held our lifeless little girl as long as we could. So now, the bear house is a lot like the one in Storybook land. Papa Bear and Mama Bear stand over Baby Bear’s bed in shock and Baby Bear is nowhere to be seen. But someday, a little stranger will fill that bed. And if the stranger just happens to be a little blond haired girl, this Mama Bear and Papa Bear won’t complain.

Dear Donna Bear

I hope you would be proud. Your mommy and daddy voted today for an amendment to our state constitution to recognize you as a person. The amendment reads as follows: Section 32. Person defined. As used in sections 3*, 6**, and 25*** of Article II of the state constitution, the term "person" shall apply to every human being from the beginning of the biological development of that human being.

*Section 3. Inalienable rights.All persons have certain natural, essential and inalienable rights, among which may be reckoned the right of enjoying and defending their lives and liberties; of acquiring, possessing and protecting property; and of seeking and obtaining their safety and happiness.** Section 6. Equality of justice.Courts of justice shall be open to every person, and a speedy remedy afforded for every injury to person, property or character; and right and justice should be administered without sale, denial or delay.*** Section 25. Due process of law.No person shall be deprived of life, liberty or property, without due process of law.

We love you, our Donna Rose, and we know you WERE indeed a person.

Love,

Mommy