Nothing!!!

One year ago we were living our dream! Our OB appointment went "well". We had an ultrasound to check on my cervix. I have a history of it shortening, requiring medicine and/ or bedrest. My cervix was indeed short but nothing we hadn't faced and conquered before. Most importantly, our sweet baby was safe and looked perfect for 17 weeks. I remember Mike asking our sonographer why the baby was so inactive. She and I reassured him that babies sleep too, even in the womb. The heartbeat was great and everything else looked fine, so why worry about a normal occurrence. We left with medicine and a follow up appointment scheduled to make sure it was working. 

My placenta was in a place that kept me from feeling movement early and consistently. One of the greatest joys of pregnancy- feeling the nudges and kicks. I had finally started to feel the rolling around and occasional nudges. I remember crawling onto Kaitlyn's top bunk that week to escape the kids. It was one of the rare moments of feeling distinct movement. That is a precious memory that I'll never forget!  

As Mike and I were looking at her picture and talking last night, he asked if I ever wonder what color her hair and eyes would be. I think about her often but those details are some of the hardest to think about. She should be 8 months old, probably closer to 7 given my history. She'd be crawling and keeping me on my toes. Whose features would she have?  Would she be colicky?  Would she love being worn in my wraps?  Would she love milk-milk as much as our others?  Oh the wondering. Questions that'll never have answers. The spaces of my heart, broken and longing to hold her. A year later and the "why?" still plagues me!  An answer that will never be known in this lifetime. 

The conversation haulted and we sat in silence for a few minutes. I could tell Mike was struggling so I asked if there was anything I could do, anything he needed from me. He answered with the most honest of answers, "only if you could bring back one of our babies although I know you would if you could."  I responded that I would bring them all back if I could. We chuckled about how we would be wall-to-wall kids but wouldn't care!  That's the reality of the infamous "what can I do for you" question. Nothing!!!!  There isn't anyone or anything that can bring back Curtis, Aubrey, Maverik, Paisley, Carly, or Brody. Oh the pain of the empty places in my heart that seem unfillable. I'm sure I'll get a few prompts to trust God to fill those places. That, however, would require me to trust Him with my heart. I'm not there!  I've moved from sheer anger to complacency, which is probably an even more dangerous place. How do I move on from feeling so betrayed by God?  You'd think I'd know how to get there from here. In reality, each loss has been progressively harder to return to my faith. I know all the "right answers" but my head and heart don't agree right now. Until I get there, many thanks to my friends and family. So thankful for those who've stood by me in the darkest of times. Most importantly, thank you to Mike who has been with me through it all. He has seen the ugliness of my heart and thoughts and loved me more today than yesterday!  Still don't know how I've survived the last year. One thing is certain, I couldn't have done without the love of others. 

Knowing Doesn't Mean It's Easier

One month since we sat at the hospital, waiting for Brody's arrival. I've physically recovered but the pain of the emotional recovery has just begun. Knowing what it takes to get from here to truly being ok, makes it even harder. Knowing the pain I must face and ultimately embrace, doesn't make this less overwhelming. Grief is something you never become an expert at!  Yes, I've learned a lot since losing Curtis 7 years ago. I've learned that letting others into your pain and accepting the help and love offered is necessary. I've learned that there will be days that I'm not ok and it is ok to feel that way. I've learned that no matter the emotion, the thought, the feeling, it is valid and worthy of embracing and processing. I've learned that no matter how hard you try to believe the truth about your circumstances, you will always have a hint of guilt and self doubt. The what-ifs become less intrusive into your daily thoughts but they will always be there.  

I've also learned that there are genuine, loving people in this world. Some friends might have disappeared through the worst of times but there are a few that have been faithful in their support and love. Being there for someone who's grieving is hard work. Grief makes you self focused and usually disinterested in functioning in society. I'm so thankful to have had a few friends that have pushed into my heart and thoughts over the last year. Their persistence has kept me from staying in my dark place for too long. Their texts and calls have been invaluable. 

When you're grieving and depressed, you hope to just vanish into your world and never need to function in society again. Each group of friends holds its own set pain. None of it is by intention or even always rational, but it's there. Facing society after a loss is some of the hardest grief work. You know you're not emotionally stable and there's no predicting what might bring on the unstoppable tears. There isn't anyone in my circles that would mock my pain but there is a tendency, in society as a whole, to avoid painful situations. My tears and deep pain aren't easy to see and accept. Each time I've been in the process of reintegrating, it's inevitable to be in public places and on the verge of tears. It's obvious from the look on my face or even the tears streaming. I'm so grateful for anyone who has overcome the uncomfortableness of being in my hurt and giving me that hug. The hug that says, it's ok to be hurting and it's ok that you're struggling to even be here. The hug that says, I love you enough to come into your pain and hold you. 

The grief will never go away!  I will always miss my babies and long to have them in our home. The wounds begin to heal but the scars will always remain. That in itself is another battle to face. The tears become less which often leads to guilt. The tears and the very few memories with our babies is all I have of them. How does a mama strive for recovery and better days when it feels like the very process is inching out the reminders of your child?!  Finding the balance isn't easy but it's possible. The grief journey continues and some days, like today, will bring extra tears. Many thanks to anyone who has touched my heart throughout this process. 

Here's the song that my kids were singing after VBS this week. I haven't listened to it for a month, and on purpose!  I messaged the children's director to let her know that I had a love-hate relationship with VBS. Love that my kiddos were learning one of my favorite songs but hating the fact that I couldn't escape them singing it. Hard to embrace the phrase "your love never fails" when I'm in my phase where I feel like He has failed me. 

https://youtu.be/QYCJ8EvkGCs

No Answers

It has been a hard few days. I've spent the past week with my mom, sister, and nephew at a condo in Crescent Beach. We kept busy and I was quite distracted. Didn't even make it home yesterday before the tears were flowing. Don't get me wrong, I was exhausted and ready to be back to my bed and routine. I knew what awaited me here, Brody's ashes amongst many other reminders that our sweet baby is gone. My boxed up maternity clothes, baby swing, and bouncy seat all sit in the family room, waiting to be posted on swip swap. The thought of handing it over to someone and keeping my composure is far fetched at this point. I couldn't even look at the baby toy in the family room today without bursting into tears, the toy I was keeping for our baby. 

Tonight Mike and I decided to listen to a friend's sermon on adoption. I knew most of it would be about our adoption as children of God. I listened with hopes of hearing any insight on adoption as they have an adopted daughter. As we sat there listening, the tears wouldn't stop flowing. I should be planning things for Brody while feeling his rolls and kicks, not listening to an adoption sermon. Angry, so angry that I'm here again.  In the depths of grief and pain!  Contemplating adoption seems overwhelming and unobtainable at this point. The financial strain of one pregnancy in 12 months is enough for any couple. Multiply that by 3 pregnancies, all high risk and requiring hospital stays, and our adoption prospect is grim. Just another thing to grieve for the time being. Friends will say, trust God to provide. How does one do that when you're so scarred by the pain of losing 6 children?  How does one trust Him to guide the process and provision of a child for our family when we have had so many taken already?  It is a terrifying thought!  The adoption process can be long and emotionally draining. I'm not ready for that work yet when I'm still working through losing Brody. I also can't help but wonder if we are going to adopt, is our child out there needing love?  Are we missing precious moments with him or her?  These and so many other thoughts constantly race through my mind!  At this point, I have no answers. 

Here's where you come in... Most of my conversations with God (the few I am willing to have) are filled with hurt and anger. At this point, I don't feel like I can approach Him and ask for wisdom when all I've done is spew hatred at Him for 3 1/2 weeks. I wish my heart was more willing to forgive and accept His goodness and love that supercedes my circumstances. It's so much easier to say than do. With that said, I would love our friends and family to pray for us as we sort through what seems like an overwhelming sea of emotions and decisions ahead! 

Most songs just make me cry so I rarely listen lately. I did download this song recently and play it on repeat. If you hear something often enough, do you eventually begin to believe it?  That's my thought for playing this song...

https://youtu.be/yjgioXrnEME

The Delicate Dance of a Mother's Grief

Two weeks. Not sure how I've made it from there to here but I'm still standing and still breathing. I've managed to get out of bed every day and even get dressed on most days. Those things seem to be a given considering I'm caring for my kiddos that I love deeply. They may not have had the most adventurous of 2 weeks, but they've been fed and safe. They've seen mommy cry but have missed out on many of those quiet moments. Those moments when the heart is still and silent. The moments where the pain consumes and turns into uncontrollable sobs. That's what grief as a mom looks like for me. Cherishing the little things that my living children do that makes my heart smile!  The same heart that lays in bed at night, oozing with pain. It's a delicate dance of emotions but probably one of the few things keeping it sane for the Lynn household!

We decided tonight we would venture out and watch the free movie by the bay. We set up our chairs and sat there waiting for the movie to play. Even the kids sat still as the people watching took place. Thankfully, it was getting dark so no one saw the stream of tears rolling down my face. Tears as the lady pushed a stroller by. Tears as the pregnant lady walked by. Tears as the baby on the movie screen cried. Their silent happiness and my silent tears. Mike knew though!  We've been through this enough to know that reentering society is not an easy task. He has seen those same tears too many times to count. He's not the only one that sees. God sees and I'm just not ready to let Him hug me through it. I'm confident that it won't be like this forever. For now though, I know my friends and family are praying for me, asking God for things I refuse to want from Him right now. I know that God is patiently waiting for me acknowledge His love and the fact that He never left. Until then, I'll continue to spew my hatred and doubt and "why me's" directed at Him and know that in the end, He won't love me any less. 

Here's my heart's hope, to believe these words again...

http://youtu.be/r5tbZaBwJsc