October 15th Raleigh

In honor of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day, I've organized October 15th Raleigh. I wanted a way to honor Robert's memory and our miscarriage in 2004, as well as to reach out to all the other parents who've experienced a loss through miscarriage, still birth, infant loss or ectopic pregnancy.


This candle light memorial will be held on Thursday, October 15, 2009 at 7pm on the South Lawn of the State Capital, Downtown Raleigh. The evening will consist of a simple ceremony of music, an open mic time, a naming ceremony, as well as candles lit in memory of our little one's. This is a free, community-wide event to anyone in the Triangle area.


My prayer for October 15th Raleigh is that parents will find Hope and healing after a loss.

What a difference a year makes

I still can't believe how quickly a year comes and goes. I can honestly say that my life looks pretty different than it did a year ago. Besides the obvious of going so fast from pregnant and planning a life with a new son to not pregnant and redefining what my life looks like after losing a baby.

There's just no way that you can lose a baby and come out on the other side as the same person, because you're not. Losing Robert has changed me forever. It's changed the way that I look at my life here and eternal life. It's changed my relationships with family and friends; it's drastically changed my relationship with God.

Without hesitation, I will admit that around the time that Robert died, I was probably the furthest that I've been from God in a very long time. We had no home church. I was not reading my bible. I was not praying. I firmly believe that God will allow things to happen in our lives to get our attention and to draw us back to Him. No, God did not take my son from me, but he allowed it to happen.

My new relationship with God is a direct result of losing my son. My desire to become stronger in my faith, to connect with my church, to "grow up" all comes from my realization of why I'm really here.

Another awesome outcome over the last year has been the strength of my marriage. You often hear how a loss can tear a couple apart. Losing Robert has made Bob and I stronger than ever. Through the strengthening of our individual relationships with God, we've seen the overflow into our marriage. Sure, we still have our moments (who doesn't,) but are constantly striving to stay God-centered and to keep each other accountable.

There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about Robert. He would have been just about 9 months old now. There are times when I still cry and feel that physical pain of not having Robert here with me, but the tears are less and time does begin to heal.

So now you have two!

I was shopping at Kohl's a few days ago and ran into a teacher from the school where I did my graduate internship last year. I was working there when I became pregnant and I had not seen her since I finished last June. She immediately and enthusiastically said, "So, now you have two!" Of course I had to break the news that we had lost him. I actually handled it really well (no tears), but it's amazing just how I go about my day and there are still reminders that Robert is not here with me.

While I'm Waiting

I love the lyrics to John Waller's song, "While I'm Waiting". It really sums up so much of what I'm feeling in my life and in my heart right now. Even though the wait can feel like torture at times, it's through the waiting that we can begin to see what God really wants for us; that he begins to unveil his plan for our lives. The very act of waiting and being obedient to God is an act of worship to Him and our confidence in who He is and what He says He can do. Will it be painful at times? Yes. Will we want to give up? Probably. But is He faithful? Absolutely.  

So today, even though I feel crushed, I will go on actively waiting.

"While I'm Waiting"

I'm waiting

I'm waiting on You, Lord

And I am hopeful

I'm waiting on You, Lord

Though it is painful

But patiently, I will wait

I will move ahead, bold and confident

Taking every step in obedience

While I'm waiting

I will serve You

While I'm waiting

I will worship

While I'm waiting

I will not faint

I'll be running the race

Even while I wait

I'm waiting

I'm waiting on You, Lord

And I am peaceful

I'm waiting on You, Lord

Though it's not easy

But faithfully, I will wait

Yes, I will wait

I will serve You while I'm waiting

I will worship while I'm waiting

I will serve You while I'm waiting

I will worship while I'm waiting

I will serve you while I'm waiting

I will worship while I'm waiting on You, Lord

Babies, babies, everywhere babies

Yes, it's a part of life. People are going to have babies. And when you're in your early thirties and at the prime baby making time, everyone around you will be getting pregnant and having babies. That is, everyone but me. I know I sound a little pathetic and that I'm feeling sorry for myself, but that's because I'm feeling sorry for myself. 

In the last week alone, 2 women I know have had their babies. Of course, I'm thrilled for them. It's such an amazing blessing. But I want to get pregnant too. I want to bring my baby home. I want to get over this "hump" of loss and onto the next chapter of getting pregnant again.

I'm a good mom. No, I'm an awesome mom! I love my son more than life itself and I desperately want another child, a sibling for Mason, but it's just not coming so easy.

The saying goes that "Timing is everything". I know that God's timing is not always the same as my timing (probably something to do with the fact that he's the God of the universe and doesn't have the same concept of time that we do). But none the less, I'm trying to be so patient and wait on His time. But all I really want to do is scream from the top of my lungs that I'm sick of waiting! I'm sick of feeling like the only one around me who can't conceive. I'm angry that I have to think about the anniversary of my son's death next month rather than celebrating his life. 

Today I need the strength to just keep going. 

When the joy outweighs the pain

It's taken almost a year, but I know now that I've finally arrived at the place where the joy and blessing of potentially being pregnant again and having another baby outweighs all the pain of losing Robert or the fear of losing another baby.

Of course I'll never forget what it feels like to say goodbye to my son, but I also know the pure joy of welcoming my new child into the world. 

I know what it feels like to to labor for twelve hours. To hold a tiny, lifeless child only to leave with empty arms from the hospital. But I also know the feeling of having a warm, beautiful, healthy baby in my arms. 

I know what it feels like to walk through the valley and to announce to all your friends and family that your son is gone. To prepare for a memorial service. To decide between burial and cremation. To wake and see a tiny urn every morning. But I also know utter elation of calling to tell everyone that a new life is here. To hear the congratulations and the joy in their voices. To know that people are genuinely excited for your family.

I know what it feels like to miss a son every day. To grieve the milestones. To miss planning the first Christmas or birthday. But I know how it feels to enjoy the last four years of everything amazing and special that Mason has experienced.

So when I weigh it all, I'd do it again. The bitter and the sweet. Life brings us valleys so we can appreciate the mountain tops. And there are a lot more valleys or heading up & down the mountain than there times on top. So much so that if we're not careful, we just may miss it. 

When you know you've hit your limit

I know it's been some time since I've written anything on this blog. Overall, life has been good. We're caught up in the whole TTC thing again and it's just enough to keep my mind off of other things; for a while, anyways. 

It was such a blessing to celebrate Mason's 4th birthday on Monday. Celebrating with friends was fun and crazy and Mason was loving it. But it's amazing how even in the middle of a celebration, the loss of Robert can hit me. Three babies and one pregnant woman at our party. Which is fine, but throw in the non-stop baby/pregnancy talk and I felt like I was in a black-hole. I had to keep myself busy or go outside just so I didn't break out in tears. Who knows, maybe someday I'll want to swap pregnancy and delivery stories again, but not now. What so many people quickly forget is that my last delivery didn't turn out so well. I was in labor for 12 hours and delivered and held a baby that I didn't get to bring home. I won't get the milestones of rolling over, crawling, first words. I won't get to celebrate his first birthday or any birthdays. I don't get to wake up and snuggle and nurse my son every morning. Instead, I wake up every morning and see his remains in a tiny urn on my dresser. Yes, I know that's not Robert, but it's the only way I even know it was all real. That's my reality. 

And another thing. Yes, it was nine months ago. But guess what? I'm NOT OVER IT! I'll never be over losing Robert. Yes, it gets a little more manageable over time, but there's not a day that goes by that I don't think about my son. And even when we eventually do get pregnant again, I still won't be over it. One child doesn't replace another child.

Yes, it's a fine line. I don't want people walking on egg shells around me, afraid that what they'll say will upset me. But I want people to be aware that careless words hurt. When you're friends with someone and love them, you need to be aware of the balance. It's a give and take on both sides and at this point, I've reached my limit. Now, do I think that my friends were trying to intentionally hurt me by what they were saying? No. Do I think that it went overboard with all the pregnancy/baby talk? Absolutely! Guess what ladies, we love our kids and families. But we are still women who can talk about things other than allergies, diapers and hiccups ad nauseam.