Sarah,
I wanted to let you know that the boys and I visited your grave the other day. They had been talking about you and I thought it might be good to sit by your grave ("Sarah's spot" is what we call it) and spend a few moments remembering you. I explained to the boys again about dying and going to heaven and told some "silly Sarah stories" to them. That day Zach had decided he wanted to try underwear again and before we had come to see you we had been out running errands. He had gone to the potty once and had an accident also so I thought he was empty enough for us to stop at your spot on the way home. And I reminded him that I had a potty in the car in case it was needed. As we were talking about you all of a sudden Zach let loose. He said, "Mommy, Me pee on grass!!" Yep, he watered the grass right next to your spot. We laughed and laughed and I thought it was a neat picture of what life would have been like all together...quickly going from sad moments to stories to teaching to messes to silly things
.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
I will carry you
Dear Sarah,
Today I heard this song by Selah (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pxZhEcTzn6Q) It made me think of you. I thought I'd carry you in me for nine months waiting to carry you in my arms. Its just different now and I feel like this is the longest gestation! I carried you in me, briefly met you, and will now carry you in my heart, waiting to wrap you in my arms someday in heaven. I definitely wouldn't have chosen this path, but I also would rather have met you and get to hold you in my heart for now than to have never met you at all. I'm still sad, but I still live with the "pregnancy excitement" of getting to know you in the future. I am grateful that Jesus is holding you now and doing all the things with you that I wanted to do.
I love you,
Mommy
I Will Carry You (Audrey's Song) by Selah
There were photographs I wanted to take
Things I wanted to show you
Sing sweet lullabies, wipe your teary eyes
Who could love you like this?
People say that I am brave but I'm not
Truth is I'm barely hanging on
But there's a greater story
Written long before me
Because He loves you like this
[Chorus]
I will carry you
While your heart beats here
Long beyond the empty cradle
Through the coming years
I will carry you
All my life
And I will praise the One Who's chosen me
To carry you
Such a short time
Such a long road
All this madness
But I know
That the silence
Has brought me to His voice
And He says ...
I've shown her photographs of time beginning
Walked her through the parted seas
Angel lullabies, no more teary eyes
Who could love her like this?
Today I heard this song by Selah (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pxZhEcTzn6Q) It made me think of you. I thought I'd carry you in me for nine months waiting to carry you in my arms. Its just different now and I feel like this is the longest gestation! I carried you in me, briefly met you, and will now carry you in my heart, waiting to wrap you in my arms someday in heaven. I definitely wouldn't have chosen this path, but I also would rather have met you and get to hold you in my heart for now than to have never met you at all. I'm still sad, but I still live with the "pregnancy excitement" of getting to know you in the future. I am grateful that Jesus is holding you now and doing all the things with you that I wanted to do.
I love you,
Mommy
I Will Carry You (Audrey's Song) by Selah
There were photographs I wanted to takeThings I wanted to show you
Sing sweet lullabies, wipe your teary eyes
Who could love you like this?
People say that I am brave but I'm not
Truth is I'm barely hanging on
But there's a greater story
Written long before me
Because He loves you like this
[Chorus]
I will carry you
While your heart beats here
Long beyond the empty cradle
Through the coming years
I will carry you
All my life
And I will praise the One Who's chosen me
To carry you
Such a short time
Such a long road
All this madness
But I know
That the silence
Has brought me to His voice
And He says ...
I've shown her photographs of time beginning
Walked her through the parted seas
Angel lullabies, no more teary eyes
Who could love her like this?
Monday, September 3, 2012
how we're doing
So many of you have been asking how we're doing and we are so grateful for everyone reaching out. Grieving is new to me and I'm sure it feels different for everyone, but for me it feels very lonely and I'm thankful for all who have checking in with us.
It has been a week since Sarah's burial and memorial service and 11 days since she died.
It took a couple days for me to stop wanting to yell to the world around me about what had happened. When I think about it, I feel horrified...no parent should have to bury their child. How can a life filled with dreams and excitement for a new baby be changed into a nightmare so quickly? I wanted others to feel my horror, to stop going about their normal activities of shopping or taking a walk around the neighborhood. How could they continue with such mundane things? (Just so you don't think I'm crazy, I never did yell or stop people...=) )
After the burial and service our adrenaline dropped off. We are both exhausted and even getting through normal activities like caring for the boys and catching up on work has required effort. I was able to nap a lot this weekend and that has helped take away some of the "rawness" of my emotions. We are playing with the boys, getting ready for preschool to start and starting to get back into household routines. I looked at my calendar last week and saw that Friday was family game night...I hadn't even remembered what day it was. So we did it even though Pat and I didn't feel like doing anything except sleeping. We figure that just getting back into things, whether we feel like it or not, is part of the process.
We're slowly starting to sleep again. At least the stretches that we do sleep are getting a bit longer. For a number of days, we both (and then later the kids) were waking up about 3am, the time that we got that last phone call to get to the hospital immediately. I'm still having bad dreams: holding babies, knowing they aren't mine and searching for Sarah, not finding her; watching myself start the events of a month ago and trying to tell my past-self what will happen but she won't hear me.
All around us are reminders of dreams that are gone. Today we went into the basement playroom to play for the first time since all this started. All the toys and baby gear are lined up waiting to be used (and some of it out already being "tested" by big brothers). What do we do with it? We also have a large bag of nursery items we got the day before I went into the hospital five weeks ago. Sheets, blankets, pacifiers...do we return them or donate them? The boys are now in the same room because we were getting ready for Sarah. Every time I'm in there, its another reminder that things are not going to be as planned.
The boys are struggling with missing Sarah but also with Pat and me being back in our roles as parents, because we were basically gone for the last month. They are acting out, fighting and showing signs of anger with us. They also have had some trouble with sleeping but seem to be getting better.
How do we move on? For now, we are just trying to go back to our regular routine that we had before but also trying to incorporate Sarah's life into our daily life. We still sing "thank you Jesus for Sarah" along with the boy's names at bedtime. We are still trying to raise money to donate dresses to other NICU girls in Sarah's memory. We know that in the future we will raise money for research of prematurity and down the road I would like to volunteer through the hospital to help other families who have said goodbye to their child.
We are incredibly grateful for all who have, and continue to be, on this difficult journey with us: parents who helped take care of our boys, moms who continue to provide meals for us, those who have sent restaurant and grocery gift cards, those who have left flowers and other thoughtful gifts on our porch, friends who have encouraged us, former NICU moms who have contacted us and loved us, the many people at church who continue to give us hugs whenever we're there, the nurses and doctors who cared for Sarah (and us), and those who helped us plan and who led the different aspects of Sarah's memorial service. We are grateful for our pastor who has walked the entire last five weeks with us, meeting us at the hospital at 3am, staying with us through the last day of saying goodbye to our girl, leading services for Sarah at her grave and service, all the time encouraging us and reading scripture to us. We are grateful to God for giving us five months of knowing about our girl and the chance to sing, talk and pray with her. We are grateful for nine days to have known her, touched her and held her. We are grateful to God for his constant love, for the hope he gives us that we'll see her again, that we will heal and that beauty will come from our pain.
It has been a week since Sarah's burial and memorial service and 11 days since she died.
It took a couple days for me to stop wanting to yell to the world around me about what had happened. When I think about it, I feel horrified...no parent should have to bury their child. How can a life filled with dreams and excitement for a new baby be changed into a nightmare so quickly? I wanted others to feel my horror, to stop going about their normal activities of shopping or taking a walk around the neighborhood. How could they continue with such mundane things? (Just so you don't think I'm crazy, I never did yell or stop people...=) )
After the burial and service our adrenaline dropped off. We are both exhausted and even getting through normal activities like caring for the boys and catching up on work has required effort. I was able to nap a lot this weekend and that has helped take away some of the "rawness" of my emotions. We are playing with the boys, getting ready for preschool to start and starting to get back into household routines. I looked at my calendar last week and saw that Friday was family game night...I hadn't even remembered what day it was. So we did it even though Pat and I didn't feel like doing anything except sleeping. We figure that just getting back into things, whether we feel like it or not, is part of the process.
We're slowly starting to sleep again. At least the stretches that we do sleep are getting a bit longer. For a number of days, we both (and then later the kids) were waking up about 3am, the time that we got that last phone call to get to the hospital immediately. I'm still having bad dreams: holding babies, knowing they aren't mine and searching for Sarah, not finding her; watching myself start the events of a month ago and trying to tell my past-self what will happen but she won't hear me.
All around us are reminders of dreams that are gone. Today we went into the basement playroom to play for the first time since all this started. All the toys and baby gear are lined up waiting to be used (and some of it out already being "tested" by big brothers). What do we do with it? We also have a large bag of nursery items we got the day before I went into the hospital five weeks ago. Sheets, blankets, pacifiers...do we return them or donate them? The boys are now in the same room because we were getting ready for Sarah. Every time I'm in there, its another reminder that things are not going to be as planned.
The boys are struggling with missing Sarah but also with Pat and me being back in our roles as parents, because we were basically gone for the last month. They are acting out, fighting and showing signs of anger with us. They also have had some trouble with sleeping but seem to be getting better.
How do we move on? For now, we are just trying to go back to our regular routine that we had before but also trying to incorporate Sarah's life into our daily life. We still sing "thank you Jesus for Sarah" along with the boy's names at bedtime. We are still trying to raise money to donate dresses to other NICU girls in Sarah's memory. We know that in the future we will raise money for research of prematurity and down the road I would like to volunteer through the hospital to help other families who have said goodbye to their child.
We are incredibly grateful for all who have, and continue to be, on this difficult journey with us: parents who helped take care of our boys, moms who continue to provide meals for us, those who have sent restaurant and grocery gift cards, those who have left flowers and other thoughtful gifts on our porch, friends who have encouraged us, former NICU moms who have contacted us and loved us, the many people at church who continue to give us hugs whenever we're there, the nurses and doctors who cared for Sarah (and us), and those who helped us plan and who led the different aspects of Sarah's memorial service. We are grateful for our pastor who has walked the entire last five weeks with us, meeting us at the hospital at 3am, staying with us through the last day of saying goodbye to our girl, leading services for Sarah at her grave and service, all the time encouraging us and reading scripture to us. We are grateful to God for giving us five months of knowing about our girl and the chance to sing, talk and pray with her. We are grateful for nine days to have known her, touched her and held her. We are grateful to God for his constant love, for the hope he gives us that we'll see her again, that we will heal and that beauty will come from our pain.
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