Happy 1st Birthday in Heaven!

 Sept. 18, 2016

Dear Dakota,

One year ago, at this very hour, I felt my first contractions. Those contractions would eventually bring you into our world for a few short hours. Precious hours. Too few hours. We only had less than a day with you, and it wasn’t enough.

Tomorrow, you will be celebrating your first birthday in heaven. I know there is no place more perfect to celebrate, so I am happy for you. But my heart is also torn in two. Here I am, sitting on the couch with your baby sister by my side. She probably wouldn’t be here if you were still here. But she can’t replace you or the memories I had hoped to make with you.

When Papi and I found out we were pregnant with you, we couldn’t wait to tell our families. We had been praying for you for 2 years, and we were so excited that our family of 3 was growing to a family of 4. Jaden was looking forward to being a big brother, and I was looking forward to all the baby snuggles I could get.  We didn’t know what the future held.

On the day we found out that you were a boy, we were also told some very bad news. We didn’t know how bad it was at the time, but you had no amniotic fluid. The doctors said that your sweet little lungs would never develop into healthy-oxygen-rich lungs so you could fill our ears with your powerful cries.

On the day you were born, instead of silence though, we heard a miracle with our very own ears. Though it was weak, we heard your cry. I savor the video where I can hear your voice. It was but only for a few minutes, but we praise God for those sweet moments. In your cry, I could hear you saying “Hi Mommy. Hi Papi. Hey big brother. I’m here. I can’t stay long, but I wanted to say hello.” You had no idea how much we needed to hear you. But, we also heard your “goodbye.” In your last breaths, we said goodbye to each other. Our only hope was knowing that one day we would meet again. As I held you in my arms, and set your head on my shoulder and snuggled your body, I knew it was the only time I would be able to snuggle you… to hold you in my arms… to smell your sweet skin… to feel your soft baby hair. I knew Jesus had you in his arms, but it didn’t make my arms feel any less empty.

A year has gone by since that day, and a lot has happened. Many tears have been shed for you, but I know you have also seen the many smiles. God has blessed our family with your baby sister. She is here. She is healthy. And she is already 7 weeks old. Every day that goes by, I can’t help but think that she was our gift from you. I think that while you were sitting on Jesus’ lap, you said, “My Mommy needs a baby to love and to hold. Can you give her the most perfect little girl so her heart can heal?” And, you know what? Jesus heard you. He heard our prayers. He used you to change our hearts and He used Carmen to heal them.

I wish so badly we could have taken you home from the hospital, fed you in the wee hours of the night, and changed countless diapers. I wish we could have seen your smile and watched you learn to roll over. I wish I could have been there for the moment you became mobile and crawled across the room. I wish I could hold your hand as you took your first steps. But I am comforted by the knowledge that Jesus is holding my hand as he holds yours. Through Him, we are still connected, and will one day see each other again.

I hope your 1^st Birthday in heaven is as special as we would have tried to make it here. I hope you and Grandpa Boender are celebrating together. We are going to dress like pirates and eat Krispy Kreme and remember you for your 1^st Birthday. We are going to celebrate your life and the sweet moments you were here with us. Mommy and Papi love you so much. And your big brother still misses you. He wants to go to heaven to see you. And I can’t wait to tell Carmen all about you when she is a little older. She is our rainbow after the storm… the dark days after you were born and we had to say goodbye. She helped to bring the sunshine back into our lives. So much of her is because of you. We all love you forever!

Love,

Mommy

Adversity is GOOD

May 28, 2016

It was a year ago today that a routine doctor’s appointment turned into what felt like a death sentence for our unborn child. On May 28, 2015, we were told that Dakota’s chance of survival were “zero” and to end his life.

“It is good for me that I was afflicted, 

that I might learn your statutes.”

Psalm 119:71

May 29, 2016

Early Sunday morning, I woke with realization that a mere date on the calendar was about to come crashing down on the delicately-rebuilt-emotional-stability I was in.  I realized that one year had come and gone since the day we were told to end our unborn child’s life.

“It is good for me that I was afflicted, 

that I might learn your statutes.”

Psalm 119:71

As I went about my morning routine, I didn’t think it would affect me so much.  But, as I arrived at church and sat down to wait for service to begin… my thoughts returned to that fateful day.  As we sang songs of worship and I listened to a sermon about why we go through adversity… I was hit like a ton of bricks.

For the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to remember that day fully. I revisited the excitement of that week before.  We were expecting to discover our baby’s gender in the 20-week ultrasound.  Instead, we were told there was no amniotic fluid so they couldn’t see anything in the ultrasound.  I returned for what I understood to be a routine ultrasound and was alarmed when I was being sent directly to a perinatologist for a more specialized ultrasound.  I didn’t even know what a perinatologist was at the time: (Perinatologists are obstetricians and gynecologists with special training in high-risk pregnancies. They are also called maternal-fetal medicine specialists.)  I had no idea the gravity of the situation and was not prepared for the worst news I could ever be told: “Your baby most likely won’t survive.  We recommend termination.”

I remember telling Eddie, “I know women who have lost babies to miscarriage.  I know women who have had stillborn babies.  I know women who have suffered with infant loss.  But I don’t know anyone who has been told to terminate their baby’s life.”

I felt like Eddie and I were about to walk down a road that no one I knew had ever walked before.  I felt lonely and lost and confused and heartbroken.  I actually wanted the pregnancy to end on its own just so I didn't have to make a decision.  Little did I know, but I had several friends who had been told that exact thing by their doctor, and I would meet several other women over the next few months who had been told that same thing.  They became my support and my companions as we walked through this terrible nightmare.  I also learned that I didn’t have to automatically do what the doctor recommended.  I had someone bigger to answer to: The Great Physician.

Little did I know that day one year ago, that God was about to walk with me through my darkest days and bring me out stronger and closer to Him on the other side.  There I was, 20 weeks pregnant with a baby that we had been trying to conceive for 2 years… and a doctor telling me to throw his life away so I could “begin to heal quickly and start over.”  Start over?  Start over?  No… this was the baby God gave me and I was not going to just scratch his life out and start over!

Now, here I am today, one year later, carrying our rainbow baby, 30 weeks pregnant, and rejoicing in both the joy and the sorrow that my God carried me through over the past year.

You see, I was a wandering soul.  Yes, on the outside, I looked like the picture of what a good pastor’s wife should look like.  But my bible and my heart were dusty.  My relationship with God was distant.  Yes, on the outside, I went through the motions.  I followed the rules.  I went to church.  I taught Sunday school.  I prayed before meals.  I stayed away from the “big” sins.  But it wasn’t personal.  God was about to get real personal for me.  My need for God didn’t change, but what did change was the realization of my deep need for God.

As I sat and listened to the sermon, I realized how thankful I am for the past year.  Yes, the memories were heartbreaking to trudge up, but the joy I feel on the other side is so worth the pain I walked through.  Suffering drove me to Jesus.  Suffering lead me to see my deep spiritual need.  When I needed Him most, He didn’t reject me… instead, He called me to His side.  He wrapped His loving arms around me and carried me when I felt I could not go one more step.  That’s what Jesus does.  He came to save the needy and the lost.  God used Dakota’s life to renew and restore my rusty heart.  He used Dakota to draw me to Him in a way I had never realized I needed before.  He used Dakota to grow my faith and strengthen my trust in Him.  I could not be who I am today without the journey I traveled while carrying my baby boy in my womb while my God carried me through the nightmare.

“It is good for me that I was afflicted, 

that I might learn your statutes.”

Psalm 119:71

Danny shared Psalm 119:71, and I share it three times here because it struck a chord in my heart.  Yes... I have learned to be truly thankful for the suffering I endured because I know what it did to my heart and my walk with Jesus!

As the sermon wrapped up and the service ended, Eddie led the band in one final song that flooded me with yet more memories.  You see, worship and worship music had become my lifeline during that time.  It became the only way I could feel peace during those long sleepless nights.  Before that, I was the worship leader’s wife who didn’t really worship during those times of singing to our Savior.  I was easily distracted… I often arrived late and missed most of the music… I just didn’t always value that time in my own spiritual walk.  But on that day, something changed.  Music and the words we sang became my direct prayers.  When I didn’t have the words to worship, the songs and lyrics helped me to lift my eyes and my heart to the One I could depend on.  I often stood in church with tears streaming down my face as my husband led me (and the rest of the congregation) in worship.  My need for God became personal.

Now, as he sung a song that he had sung many times before, I was yet again over come with emotion as I worshiped my God and Sustainer:

“Christ Be All Around Me”

-Michael W. Smith

As I rise, strength of God
Go before, lift me up
As I wake, eyes of God
Look upon, be my sight

As I wait, heart of God
Satisfy and sustain
As I hear, voice of God
Lead me on, and be my guide
And be my guide

Above and below me
Before and behind me
In every eye that sees me
Christ be all around me
Above and below me
Before and behind me
In every eye that sees me
Christ be all around me
Whoa...Whoa...Christ be all around me

As I go, hand of God
My defense, by my side
As I rest, breath of God
Fall upon, bring me peace
Bring me peace

Your life, Your death
Your blood was shed
For every moment
Every moment

As I reflect on the past year and look joyfully into the future, I rejoice in the fact that God’s plan is always greater than our own.  No, if given a choice, I would not have chosen to surrender my baby boy to the arms of Jesus.  I would have kept him here on earth, to watch him grow, to watch Jaden become the big brother he is so ready to be… but that was not His plan.  God knows what is best, even when we don’t see it.  I really believe that for my life and for yours.  Now, I am able to trust Him more fully with EVERY aspect of my life.  I am thankful for the many gifts I received in the last year:

•         Friends, both new and old, who were there when I felt most lost and alone
•         A chance to hold and kiss my sweet baby boy before he was ushered into the arms of Jesus
•         Memories of hearing his cries and knowing he was a miracle, no matter how short his life was here on earth
•        Being surrounded by our church family even when our families couldn’t be there
•        A renewed faith and trust in God
•        An experience that God will use to touch other women and families who travel a similar journey
•        A husband and best friend who journeyed this unknown territory with me, and a marriage that is stronger for it
•         A renewed appreciation for Jaden and the joy he brings to our lives
•         A healthy pregnancy and anticipation of growing our family by one little bundle of pink
•      An un-medicated natural birth that gave me confidence in my body to try a homebirth this time around
•      A battle with the insurance company that resulted in approval of our midwife and planned homebirth
•      The chance to purchase our first home and the peace God has given me in this process that I formerly lived in fear of
•      The many prayers lifted on our behalf and the people that continue to be an encouragement to us

These and so much more.  I have so much to be thankful for... my heart is full!

Mother's Day 2016

28 Weeks - May 9, 2016

Mother’s Day was yesterday.  Mother’s Day has a whole new meaning to me now.  I was kind of taken off-guard by the emotions that would wash over me this day.  Before Jaden was conceived, I remember Mother’s Day being painful for a few years.  Eddie and I experienced a desire to have a child, and we hoped patiently each month for a positive pregnancy test.  15 months passed by before we finally rejoiced at those two blue lines.  After Jaden was born, Mother’s Day was transformed to a more joyful occasion; but, the memory of that pain was still present.  I thank God that he has given me the gift of empathy for the childless women who face Mother’s Day with a painful ache in their hearts.

This Mother’s Day brought with it a whole new set of emotions.  I gratefully celebrated my sweet boy who is here with me, but I also mourned my sweet baby who is in the arms of Jesus.  As I read the Mother’s Day card Eddie wrote for me where he mentioned our “three children,” the tears poured down.   Dakota is gone, but not forgotten.  And on a day like Mother’s Day, he is remembered ever so fiercely!   The pain is fresh, and I didn’t see it coming.  It gives me a whole new perspective on Mother’s Day and the many other women who are also grieving the loss of their children.  Although the pain stings, I also thank God for it because it expands the circle of women with whom I can empathize with in the pain of this day. 

But, it doesn’t end there.  I also realize that God has given us each a woman who birthed us.  Mother’s Day isn’t just about me; it is about the woman who gave me life.  I’m thankful for my Mom and each passing day I have with her in my life. 

And… I can’t forget my sweet girl, Carmen!  She is giving me the gift of motherhood all over again, and this Mother’s Day was another chance to celebrate her.  I’m celebrating her life, her health, and the way God has already used her sweet presence in our family to bring us joy and healing.

And, as you can see: this girl is growing!  I feel huge… and I am only just beginning the third trimester.  Well… I am thankful she is growing and pray that she is born healthy and strong. 

As we enter into this final 12-week stretch, I am beginning to feel a bit more anxiety.  Almost like I am fearful of reliving all that we went through with Dakota all over again.  I know that the fear is of Satan and not of God, so I ask for prayers for continued strength that only God can fulfill.  I choose to place my trust in the One that carried me through the storms in the past and who promises to never leave me. 

The rollercoaster of emotions I felt while pregnant with Dakota have been mirrored in this pregnancy.  Feeling grief and loss while also feeling hope and joy for the future makes for a very unpredictable, emotional, pregnant woman!  Sometimes I think, “I can’t do this” and then I realize that I am so thankful that I get to do this!!!  God has blessed our family with this sweet little girl, and I can’t wait to see her face.  Truthfully, I also can’t wait to be done being pregnant! 36 weeks with Dakota, 5 weeks of healing, and now 28 weeks and counting with Carmen.  It still baffles my mind when I stop to think about it…

Physically, I am still feeling pretty good, but I am starting to feel a level of exhaustion that I’ve never felt before.   Although my body is tired, I think much of the exhaustion I’m feeling is mental.   I can’t help but think about all the packing and moving and unpacking and settling that I hope to do before she is born… and then I need a nap after just thinking about it.  I’m praying for God to help me to focus on just taking one day at a time.  I’m reminded of the passage in Matthew, and I think I need to plaster it on my mirror so I remember it everyday: “Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?” Matthew 6:27.   (Not that I want to add a single hour of being pregnant either.)

My normal pregnancy symptom is here: heartburn… but it is nothing a few Tums can’t handle.  As the summer heat creeps in, I look forward to spending my days feeling weightless and keeping cool with Jaden in one of his favorite places to play: the pool!  And… never before have I felt so aware of my baby’s position in my womb.  She is sometimes head-down… and other times feet-down… and let’s just say that I can definitely tell the difference.  I would prefer her to stay head-down and kick me in the ribs than the alternative!

As always, I thank you for the many prayers still being lifted on our behalf.  Eddie and I are so grateful for the body of Christ and the encouragement that is poured over us more than we ever expected. 

A Slice of Heaven... err... Melon

Revelation 21:4  “ ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

April 5, 2015:      “This early Easter morning we said "Goodbye for now but not forever" to my dad. I know he is celebrating with Jesus this Resurrection Sunday, and our family is gathered together in remembering an amazing father, husband, and grandfather. He will be missed, but we are praising God for his grace and peace during this time. He is faithful, and my family is an amazing reflection of that faithfulness. I am so thankful for this time with him. After a 9 month battle with cancer, he got a new body this morning. Praise God for the hope we can have only in Jesus our Savior! I will miss you, Dad!”

It was the Saturday night before Easter Sunday.  The six of us kids, my mom, and many other family members gathered around my father’s bedside.  My brothers took turns telling Dad some of their favorite memories from their childhood.  We were all together… just being present together.  We gathered around a man who loved God and loved his family and honored them both with his life.

As the evening drew to a close and the hour was late, many went home to go to bed.  I know each of my brothers left reluctantly, but they had a family to return to.  We all headed to bed, and my sister and the night-nurse took up their evening watch over Dad, trying to keep him as comfortable as possible.

Around 4 in the morning, his breathing took a turn for the worse.  It became evident that the end was drawing near.  That early Easter Sunday morning, my Mom and my two sisters and I gathered around his bedside, holding his hands as he took his final breath here on earth.  It was 4:30 am, and later the pastor would point out that it was the women in his life that surrounded him… and it was an image of the women in Jesus’ life who first discovered His empty tomb (John 20)

The tears were shed, but for two very opposite reasons.  We cried and mourned in sorrow as we said goodbye, but we also cried tears of joy knowing that this was the way he would have wanted to go.  He was ushered into heaven the very day we remember and celebrate Christ’s resurrection and conquering of death.  What a glorious morning so many years ago… and what a glorious morning for my Dad last year on Resurrection Sunday morning.  He saw the face of Jesus, and we cannot be sad for him any longer.

But, we are sad.  Sorrow is still cutting.  Tears still fall.  Hearts are still broken.  Because here on earth, we do not yet experience the full beauty of heaven.  We wait expectantly for that joyous day, but in the present, our human bodies and emotions still grieve the loss of a beloved husband, father, brother, and grandfather.

April 5, 2016:

Fast forward one year to this morning; around 4:00 in the morning, my pregnant bladder wouldn’t let me sleep any longer.  Then, my busy brain wouldn’t turn off.  I resolved to make this "awake" time productive, so I turned to my “to do” list.  (Mind you... this is not a normal routine for me... I usually would just toss and turn until I fall back asleep)  I slipped out of bed and into the kitchen.  A few light housekeeping chores could be completed until I was ready to go back to bed.  I started with emptying the clean dishes out of the dishwasher.  I moved on to making the guest bed with the freshly washed sheets that I did not have the energy to tidy up last night.

I made my way back into the kitchen and saw a cantaloupe on the counter.  I had purchased it yesterday at the grocery store, but that is not my regular “go-to” fruit.  But, it was on sale and it looked good to me, so I bought it.

As I stood there in my kitchen, I thought “I’ll just cut this up and it will be ready to eat tomorrow and in the coming week.”  As I sliced through the sweet fruit, a flood of memories about my dad came to mind.  Now, I don’t know why, but melon always reminds me of my dad.  Maybe because it was one of the fruits I remember him prepping in our kitchen growing up.  Maybe its because he loved to eat it.  I’m sure my mom cut up melon in the past too, but for some reason I only remember Dad doing it.  As I cut it up, I reflected on Dad.  Then I remembered the date.  Then I looked at the time: 4:30 am.  Then I just smiled and thanked God for this sweet moment to reflect on happy memories with my dad.  I have not lived at home near my family in Indiana since 2002, so my time spent with them is limited to a few weeks out of a year.  My day-to-day life doesn’t bring me face-to-face with my hometown or people I grew up with.  Therefore, I know my siblings experience far many more daily reminders of Dad and his absence in their lives than I do.  But, early this morning, God gave me the gift of a simple memory of my Dad.  I will cherish it, and imagine my baby boy sitting on his grandpa’s lap as they enjoy the indescribable beauty of heaven and God’s face.  Maybe Dad is sharing a slice of melon with his grandson Dakota… and one day I will have the pleasure of joining them.

Psalm 27:4-5  “One thing I ask from the Lord, this only do I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze on the beauty of the Lord and to seek him in his temple.  For in the day of trouble he will keep me safe in his dwelling; he will hide me in the shelter of his sacred tent and set me high upon a rock.”

1 Peter 1:3-9  “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls.”