Monday, July 14, 2008

In Christ Alone by Geoff Moore

Someone just passed on this song to me...I love it.

These words are from the first verse--

"This cornerstone, this solid ground,
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm.
What heights of love, what depths of peace,
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease!"

What amazing peace we can have when we set aside our own fears and strivings! When we let him pull us out of the raging waters, out of the fiercest storm. Why is it sometimes I refuse to be pulled out, so I stay in those raging waters? But when I do pray to be raised out of the storm, that's what the power of Christ can do. I'm on the cornerstone, feet firmly planted. I can still see the raging waters and feel the winds on my face, but I'm no longer drowning... (Of course, sometimes I do fall back in the water... a lot.)

More words from the song...

"No guilt in life, no fear in death—
This is the pow'r of Christ in me;
From life's first cry to final breath,
Jesus commands my destiny."

I used to struggle with a lot of guilt about Tyler's death. It was my faulty body that gave out on him. Of course, I didn't choose to do it...I know that. But try telling that to a mother who's looking at her newborn baby...a newborn baby who was perfectly healthy until his mommy's body would no longer keep him in. I remember the nurses were so sweet talking to me about this, as I was really having a hard time seeing him for the first time. So much healing has happened with this, only through the power of Christ...

Before losing Tyler, I used to have a huge fear of death. I can't explain how irrational it was. My fear has been that I or Mike would die in a car accident. I have no fear anymore. Mike and I held Tyler as he took his final breaths. All in the same moment, we felt incurable pain, uncontrollable tears, then the silence of peace. I remember feeling peace in that room. And I feel it again when I close my eyes and remember being there in that moment with our son. Now, I said I have no more fear of death...but I definitely don't have a death wish either! I have a lot of living to do, but it will be living without the fear of things that once bound me. I am thankful for the life of Tyler and the time with him as he passed away that taught me this! I am thankful for that time.

Friday, July 11, 2008


(First of all, I have to say that Mike's face is really not twice the size of mine as it appears. That's what happens when you're the one standing closer to the wide angle lens. Just trust me on this one.)

The other day I found myself staring at this photo on my fridge. Mike walked in and looked at me strangely, then I laughed and realized how odd I looked...seemingly entranced by my refrigerator door.

I was really staring at this picture though. This photo of me and Mike was taken several years ago. We had been married for probably 3 years, but had no idea of any future fertility issues.

What drew me in was noticing how untouched by life we seemed to be in this picture-- just pure joy, giddy love, and carefree spirits. How quickly we can so be robbed of those things by life's struggles and challenges. I know we all face them. I feel I will only be forever robbed of those things IF I allow it to happen.

It's definitely not a one-time decision to not let this happen. Sometimes I have to decide every day that I won't let my situation forever rob me of my own life and of loving life. It's just like asking God for help and for peace. That's not a one-time deal either. I ask again and again. I definitely can't do it on my own.

So would I return to the day of that picture if I could to replace life now? Honestly? No way.

I've learned too much from all this. Learned to not take sooo many things for granted that I have before. Learned that we may not always get what we pray for...but that's still an answer we may understand in our lifetime, but maybe not. I've learned that our God is really not this vindictive thing that just zaps people left and right. He sees more and knows more than our human minds can understand.

And more importantly, I've gained too much from this whole situation. We gained Tyler and the memories of those six, glorious days. These struggles usually make or break a marriage, and I'm so thankful that it's made mine and brought Mike and me so much closer. Words can't even explain how awesome he's been through all this, but that's probably another post for another time...

These are things that I wouldn't trade for anything...not even for being "untouched" again.

Sunday, July 6, 2008

Tyler's Journal

I'm still piecing together Tyler's scrapbook. I decided to add a few journal entries (from my pregnancy journal) into the scrapbook also. I've kept this one close in my heart for months now, but finally decided to share it now. I only dated it as December 2007 at the time, leaving a blank for the day, but never went back to fill it in.

December 2007

Sweet Baby,

I just wanted to say that
I love to feel you move.
Daddy says I'm lucky that I
get to feel you move often.
He'll be so excited to feel you
move too. He thought he felt
you move around 17 weeks,
but he wasn't sure.

Many times, I'll be wondering
if you are okay--when I've
not felt you move for a little
while. Right at those moments,
you give me just a little kick
or thump, as if to say--

"It's okay, Mommy.
I'm fine and
I'll see you soon."

Of course I didn't know it at the time, but this would be my last journal entry written while I was still pregnant. Little did I know, in just a few days I would be seeing my sweet baby way sooner than I had ever hoped or expected. How I miss those little kicks of my precious baby...

Thursday, July 3, 2008


Sometimes I get the impression that there is a theory floating out there that believes that there comes a time when you "get over it." You let go of the memory and move on. You quit talking about it. You stop wondering, questioning certain things, and wishing for a different end to the story. But truthfully, that's not how it works.

Acceptance really is not a one-time deal, at least not for me in my situation. Each day I accept that this is where we are now. Yes, I wish he were here, but he's not. I have to accept that... again and again.

At the beach recently, we all went out for dinner one night. As we were walking around, I was well aware that there should have been a stroller in front of me. But there wasn't.

There is some healing that comes from being able to say-- "This is where we are now." Acceptance, over and over again. But hopefully, the days that I remind myself to accept will space further and further apart.

Thankfully, the questioning is not overtaking my days anymore, and the wishing does not leave me sobbing every time as it once did. From the start, we prayed that we would remember our sweet baby with joy someday and less pain...and we've been getting there.

Every grieving person, no matter the situation, deserves the unconditional permission to process and deal with their own unexplainable loss. Grief is one of those things that doesn't come with a neat, little instruction manual...

but it does come with a God who is willing to carry you through it.

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

So I Might Get a Tattoo...

Yeah, you heard me.

Those of you who think you know me may be surprised right now...

No, I'm not thinking about getting the rose or butterfly on the ankle (although I thought about those in high school/early college, and I'm SO glad I didn't as they are slightly overused.)

What I'm considering has deep meaning to me. I'm sure you'll understand--

A pair of tiny footprints, actually copied from Tyler's birth certificate, etched on my chest right over my heart.

I've already talked to Mike. He's good with it and might do it too.

Tattoo or not, though, he will be on and in my heart forever.