Faith

Even six months after losing my Jamie, I have heard the whole gammit.  I even read that I needed to forgive someone for my loss...i.e. forgive the drunk driver, etc. 

But I kept thinking, who am I supposed to forgive?  God?  But all say that He didn't do this. 

Why would God purposely give my daughter a fatal condition?  To have me carry her? 

Yes, I understand...but why give so much pain?

SOOO, three things have happened just this week!!!

1.  I read a post by a mom who also had a child with a fatal condition.  She said...."Thank you God for taking my child so he would not suffer in this world."

 WOW!  God didn't do this to my baby...it is just one of those things that happen on this Earth.  God saved my baby from living with her horrible condition...suffering on this Earth.

2.  I read in a book..."The God I know has experienced pain and torment and therefore understands my pain.  The Incarnation means that God cares so much that he chose to become human and suffer loss, though he never had to.  He is not aloof from my suffering, but draws near to me when I suffer. "

3.  I just recieved a beautiful letter from a friend and in it he spoke of  a bible class he was a part of.  A man in his class stood up and said ."A message prepared in the mind reaches minds, a message prepared in the heart reaches hearts, but a message prepared in a life reaches lives." The man then proceeded to tell the story of the loss of their child 13 years ago.  He described how his wife spends much of her time ministering to those who also are devastated.

All three of those things have made me go Hmmmm.  And I have had a bit of a better skip in my step.  In the end, it is our choice to have faith in Him.

Faith "that we find joy in our trials".

Drowning

No one likes the sad girl. They want the happy girl to come back.

I am drowning.  Drowning in all of my responsibilities, sadness, pain, along with my hopes and dreams.  Swimming towards the dock, but being grabbed by some unknown forces, deep at the bottom of the lake.  The weight of the water is sometimes too much to bear.   I can gasp at the top of the water for a second, but then I am violently yanked under.  Sometimes it seems easier to stay under.

I dream of floating aimlessly, camly again.  How can I ever do that, if I can't reach the top of the water and take a full breathe of air.

Dear God, can you please throw me a life vest?

Carnival

The rides are bright and colorful.  People are smiling, laughing, eating as they wait in lines.  The games are noisy.  Delightful, happy screaming can be heard in the distance.  The rides move quickly and frenetically. Huge stuffed animals hang from the arms of big, burly men.  There are tears on little ones that just can't seem to win the coveted prize.  Sticky fingers.  Food encrusted mouths.  Babies crashed out in their strollers.  Moms that are irritated with the child that just doesn't seem to listen.  Mom and dads with cameras hanging from their necks in hopeful anticipation of the lasting memory. Moms that are drinking in the sight of their child's first pony ride.   Dads proud of their children for riding that scary rollercoaster.  Teenagers moving in packs, oblivious to the world around them. Little girls running with pig tails and colorful dresses.  Little boys with tussled hair, wearing their jeans and cowboy boots. 

A little girl with wispy blonde hair and the sweetest dress, passes by me.  Her thumb in her mouth and her other hand tugging her ear.  She looks right at me.  She could be my Jamie.

Jamie should be here for her first carnival. 

 She should be bright eyed and taking in all of the sounds and sights. 

She should be here....

Marriage: A Fragile Union

It occurred to me yesterday that marriage is such a fragile union.  No matter how strong the relationship, it seems to be so easily broken. 

Yesterday, we found out news that some friends of ours are getting a divorce.  We did not see it coming.  This was a couple that would constantly show public affection, not the inappropriate kind, but the kind that you sometimes wish you had more of with your own spouse.  We don't know the details, but they have three beautiful, young boys and for whatever reason, are going to tear their family apart. 

I am stunned.  I am confused.  I am concerned.  What does it take to break a family apart?  What happens to a couple that they can sit their children down and say, "Your dad and I can't live together anymore". 

I don't pretend to be naive.  I am a product of a young divorced couple.  I can say I have survived, but I survived without my father being a part of my life.  The marriage was so broken, that the aftermath caused my father to walk away.  He felt that it was better to let my mom have peace then to have the constant "fight" they had even unmarried.

I look at my husband of 13 years.  I am scared.  Our oldest son turned 13 yesterday.  We have a teenage son!  I look at my three sons and cannot fathom what would crush this family.  I have always said that I would leave my husband if he ever cheated on me or hurt me. But yesterday, I even dared to tell my husband that if he had an adulterous affair, that I would probably be broken, but wouldn't be able to leave him.  I love him that much.  I need him that much.

He shook his head, walked out of the room.  Then he returned, with Jamie Lynn's tiny heart urn with her ashes, cradled in his hands, and said, "This is why I will never do something to hurt you or ever leave you." 

I think I fell in love with him all over again.

Christmas Letter 2009

Dear Family and Friends,

I will start off saying that this year’s letter might be a bit different for us, so please hang in there through the end! 

 We announced to the boys In March that the arrival of a baby brother or sister was due November 13th.   They could not contain their excitement!  To be big brothers…what a boon!  They debated about whether it would be a boy or girl.  They argued where he or she would sleep.  They guessed at different names at the dinner table.  They debated whether it should be a “J” name.  They battled with us constantly to find out what sex we were having, even though I stubbornly refused to find out.  The dust settled when the school year ended, and the family was excited to enjoy the preparation of the nursery over the summer.   Oh the bliss!

On June 24^th, our lives were forever changed.  We received the worst news a parent could ever imagine to hear.  At our routine ultrasound, they discovered there might be something seriously wrong with the baby.  After an amniocentesis, a fetal MRI, numerous high level ultrasounds, countless appointments with doctors and specialists, the verdict was given.  Our baby had a lethal skeletal dysplasia, or in layman’s terms, a fatal dwarfism.

 Despite recommendations, we decided to hold onto hope that he or she would have a “normal” dwarfism and give the baby the best possible chance and carry to term.  As the weeks went by, it became increasingly clear that our hello would also be our goodbye.  We instead changed our course to prepare for the worst and hope that we would at least not lose the baby before the delivery.  We gathered our courage and strength, and hoped that we could celebrate this child’s life, as short as it would probably be.

We planned all that we could to make sure we had a professional photographer, a special outfit, and a plan of care for comfort.  We also decided to wait for the surprise of boy or girl, since it would be one of the only things we could be excited about.  The baby went to most of big brother Butter's tennis matches.  There was wiggling and squirming while listening to Bean's guitar.  We endured the ferocious Houston heat while watching little, big brother Bunny's play in summer baseball tournaments.  Never was there a more active baby to remind us of its presence.  And every night, we settled to sleep after a nightly hug and kiss from Bunny and sometimes a lullaby from mommy. Despite the baby’s failing health and mine, we were able to make it a couple days shy of 36 weeks.  It was decided that a cesarean section would be the best way to deliver, due to both baby and my health complications.

On October 14^th at 7:39am, Jamie Lynn entered this world with the tiniest cry. Like her brothers, she was nice and hefty at 5lbs, 4oz despite being four weeks early.  She was a mere 14.5 inches long from her perfect head to her perfect little toes.  With her too small limbs, and chest too tiny to survive this world long, Daddy quickly baptized her with the healing waters from Lourdes, France gifted to us by Father Drew.  After a short snuggle with me, he swept her away to be introduced to her big brothers.  A short time later, which felt like an eternity, we were all reunited as a family.  We were able to dress her in clothes washed and smelling like home.  We exclaimed over her shocking full head of the whitest blonde hair.  The boys declared her “cute”.  We adored her tiny hands and her, oh so perfect, feet.  Aaron was enthralled with his sweet baby girl. 

We were together as a family, as she drifted away, her perfect little footprints etched on our hearts forever at 8:54am.

Her immediate family arrived to celebrate her life at a memorial Funeral Mass on November 14^th.  With Father D__ presiding, Mary T__ singing solo, and family gathered round, we said our final goodbyes and wished her well on her journey.  As Father D___ said during his homily, if we had opened the funeral to all family and friends, it would be a packed house indeed.  He couldn’t have been further from the truth.

And this brings me to the conclusion of our letter.   It has always been clear to us in the past, but more so now, that we are loved by the outpouring of prayers, thoughts, and letters from so many near and afar.  We are heartily thankful to all those who made donations to the Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep organization that provided us with the most beautiful photos of her.  To those who are just getting this news, we apologize.  This has been the most difficult burden to bear, and even more painful to share.  I apologize for not delivering a more traditional G_ Family Christmas Letter.   However, to not tell Jamie Lynn’s story, would be to dishonor her life and her memory.

For our family, the year of 2009 belongs to Jamie.  And always will….

Mommy, Daddy, Butter, Bean, and Button

"An Angel in the Book of Life Wrote Down our Baby's Birth,

And Whispered as She Closed the Book,

Too Beautiful for Earth."

Signs of Joy?

The other day I was wondering what I would name a little girl if we were blessed to concieve again and also have a girl.  All I could think of was what a joy it would be to be able to have a girl.  Joy....  Joy....  I wondered if this would fit the criteria:
1. Starts with a J 
2.  Means something
3. A biblical name.

I frowned...No not biblical.  

 Then I went to church the next day with the family.  The neighbors front yard had a huge sign with JOY.  At the advent mass, Fr. Reggie said the word Joy at least 20 times.  For the past week, I will hear the word Joy at least 2 times a day, sometimes more.  Yes, it is the Christmas season, but I have never heard it this much and I am not looking for it.  It usually catches me out of nowhere and reminds me.

Then today, I was listening to the Catholic Channel on my satellite radio.  The priests homily was speaking of St. Paul and a writing he did about finding Joy in everyday. Not happiness, but joy.  Joy does not mean happy.  Joy means thanks

So the criteria: 
 1. It does start with a J like all of my children. 
2. It means Thanks.  If I had another child, never would I be more thankful. 
3.  It isn't a biblical name, but isn't it written all over many books in the bible?

I think it was a sign from Jamie.  Is Joy coming to us next year sweet angel???  But what if it is a boy....I guess I might just call him Joy, too.  Okay, maybe not. 

But I sure would be filled with JOY!!!!!

My Faded Fuzzy Colored Glasses

The world is moving faster than a high speed train.  I am moving in slow motion.  All is clear right in front of me, but the edges of life are fuzzy at best.  I can't make myself cry.  I can't make myself scream.  I can't make myself sleep.   I can't make the world slow down.  I can't bring my sweet baby girl back.  I can't control it.
The pressure cooker is building...When am I going to explode?
Only God knows....just another way of Him reminding me that He is in control.