The Story Of Baby Hope

I've shared over on my personal blog the heartache our family is grieving right now, but I wanted to share some more here of how this has affected us as a family...

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Nearly a month ago, we announced with great joy and expectation that our family would be growing by one more sweet little baby.  When I told the kids, Valerie screamed and yelled, "A baby?!?  I WANTED another baby!  Cuz I really, really want a sister!"  Almanzo was excited too, but Valerie was absolutely ecstatic.  They decorated pumpkins and smiled for photos to share our news and we all thanked God for this littlest blessing already being knit together in my womb.

I even shared an early belly photo, laughing at how quickly my body was remembering how to change to grow a baby.  Valerie would grin and tell me each morning, "Oh!  Your belly is already getting bigger, mommy!"  Already my pants were getting tight and I was imagining pulling out my maternity clothes and anticipating eagerly the blessing of holding another newborn baby in my arms before our eighth wedding anniversary. 

Almost four years ago, in the midst of a really hard battle with postpartum depression and anxiety, I thought for sure my dreams of being a mother of four was impossibly out of reach.  It is only by God's grace that I made it out of that battle victorious and I found myself daily standing in awe of the God who heard my heart's cry and placed our fourth child so carefully in my womb.

And then the bleeding started.  

I choked back tears as I rushed to tell Ted and he held me as we prayed for answers...and, really, a miracle.  We desperately wanted this baby, but, somehow, I knew.  We were losing our precious baby.  We told Ted's mom and she held me as I cried more, offering such tremendous support that only someone who has been there can do. 

By Monday morning, despite Ted's best effort to keep hoping until we knew for sure, even he was beginning to doubt this story would have a good ending.  After lunch, he drove me to the nearest Urgent Care and for the rest of the afternoon I was cared for so gently and tenderly by a doctor and nurses who seemed to grieve right along with us.  An ultrasound and blood work confirmed our fears: our baby had died around 6 weeks and now, at just over 8 weeks, my body was accepting and letting go.

Poor Oliver didn't know how to handle seeing mommy in a hospital gown and hooked up to an IV.  Ted attempted to rock him to sleep but he was not happy that mommy couldn't hold him.  Ted had to finally drive around until he fell asleep and then sat in the car waiting for me.  At just over 1 year old, our Ollie is still enjoying mommy's milk, especially at nap time and bed time.  I'm so grateful for those quiet moments when he is still curled up in my arms nursing, because there is nothing more calming and peaceful when my heart is breaking. 

After I was discharged, I walked slowly out to the car, willing myself to move when all I wanted to do was cry.  When I sat down in the passenger seat, I somehow found the words to tell Ted and then he held me as the tears came rushing in and he prayed over our grieving hearts for healing and comfort in the days to come. 

When we returned to Ted's childhood home, Valerie greeted me with concern in her eyes and an earnest question, "Is the baby still in your belly, mommy?"  I fell to my knees and told her through broken words that our baby was no longer alive but with Jesus and I watched as her own heart broke.  It nearly undid me to see her ache so much for the baby she wanted nearly as much as we did.  As I finished telling her, she grabbed hold of my shoulders and pulled me close.  I held her like that for a while in the silence of our shared grief. 

It wasn't until bed time that her tears came, when, in her own broken words, she spoke, "But...I...but...I...just...really...wanted...this...baby!"  I held her as sobs shook her little body and my own tears mixed with hers.  For a five year old, she already has the most tender and compassionate heart and she understands far more than we often realize.  Just like her mommy, she feels emotions so deeply, but, still, it took me by surprise how much she grieved for our baby.

Tuesday morning, we drove back home, leaving Michigan mid morning and arriving back home in Wisconsin just in time for dinner.  The doctor at the Urgent Care had told me our baby was no longer alive, but I had still not actually miscarried, so the entire drive home was miserable as my body did the hard work of continuing to let go.

It wasn't until mid morning Wednesday, after Ted was already at work and our three kids were playing and laughing and filling our home with noise that my body finally let go.  I rushed to the bathroom as more intense cramping took over and watched as our tiniest little one was born.  Though barely recognizable as a baby, I could still see tiny little arm buds and a little body curved into a C still waiting to be fully formed.  No matter how small, a mother's heart still knows and feels the tiniest little life. 

I sent Ted a text at work: "Baby just passed.  Bigger than I expected.  It hurts..."  He called me almost immediately, which is unusual for him, but we were both grieving this loss together.  Somehow, I went through the motions of making lunch for the kids, putting them all down for naps, and then driving to our local clinic to hand over our baby for testing.  I wrote on my facebook page about the way the nurses there treated me with so much disrespect and callousness.  They didn't offer a single ounce of sympathy or support, but spoke to me in a rush as though I was wasting their time.  I still have to write that letter, because no mom should have to listen to a nurse talk about her baby, no matter how small, as a piece of "tissue" instead of the lost life she is so deeply grieving. 

That night, we talked with the kids more about our baby and how we were going to name our baby Hope.  We won't know for sure the gender of our baby until we see our baby in heaven, but both Valerie and I have been imagining our baby as a girl.  I can't explain how I know, but somehow I just know.  Valerie has been insistent from the beginning that our baby was a girl too and, often, she has been right about these convictions. 

Another part of the reason we named our baby Hope is because of the real Hope we have in the God who is still good and is a sure and steadfast anchor in the storms of life.  We will always miss our Hope baby, but we know, even in our grief, that our baby is safe in the arms of Jesus and that one day we will be reunited.  We don't know why and we will always wonder what life would be like if our baby was still here, but none of that changes who God is and the real Hope we have in Him. 

Until We Meet Again

*Ted's Grandma Mary went home to Jesus on Saturday, June 15.  We will miss her dearly, but we rejoice in the hope of heaven that was hers and is also ours, knowing that our goodbye here is temporary, until we meet again in glory.*

 Last weekend, we made an unexpected trip to visit our Michigan home.  Memorial Day weekend, it was discovered that Ted's Grandma Mary has a brain tumor that is rapidly growing and there is nothing more they can do.  She is in a hospice center where the sweet nurses are doing everything they can to make her as comfortable as possible on her last days.  We knew, without a doubt, that we needed to make the trip to see her one last time, not only for our own hearts, but to support and love on Ted's Grandpa Breen, who has already had to say goodbye to his first wife years ago.  These goodbyes never, ever get easier.

Friday morning, Ted rode his bike to work for a meeting he needed to attend.  The kids and I ran some errands and then picked him up mid-morning with the van already packed for a quick whirlwind trip.  We left around 10:30 and made it to his parent's house around 7:30, just in time for a late dinner and play time before bed.  The kids did so well on the drive there, kept occupied most of the time by their new favorite movie, Wreck It Ralph.  (Side note: you can BUY movies from Redbox for only $5! Also, we don't have a DVD player for the van, but my laptop works just as well.)  Oliver was happy as long as mommy was sitting next to him...and as long as we stopped enough for him to gulp down more of mommy's milk.

The kids were so happy to have lots of space to run and explore.  They always have so much fun with Uncle Joey and Uncle Robby.  Ted helped his dad fix up an old bike from the garage for Joey and for the rest of our visit Valerie and Almanzo had fun racing him on their bikes.  It was beautiful weather all weekend and, as always, it was good to spend time with family.  We don't get to see Ted's family often enough, so we enjoy the opportunity whenever it comes.

Saturday morning, Ted and I went to a funeral for the mom of one of his childhood friends.  She battled a brain tumor for the past few years and finally went home to be with the Lord last week.  I had only met her a few times, but the service was packed with friends and family.  We took Oliver with us while Mackenzie graciously watched the big kids back at the house.  I was hoping Ollie would sleep through it, but he decided it was more fun to make as much noise as possible.

I finally got up to walk out with him, but the doors were locked, so I stood by the door bouncing him and trying to keep him quiet.  I was grateful for the few people who came up to me afterwards and said the best part was when he giggled at the piano player.  Babies always bring such comfort in times of loss, because they are a reminder of the gift of life.  It really was a beautiful service too, filled with messages of hope and truth and stories of a woman who loved the Lord and knew without a doubt that heaven awaited her.

After lunch, Ted and I took all three kids plus Mackenzie to the hospice center to visit with Grandpa Breen and say goodbye to Grandma Mary.  I was surprised by how calm and peaceful it was there.  The building is hidden in a wooded area and the rooms are decorated to feel like home.  The nurses were so gentle and caring to both Grandpa and Grandma.  Grandpa was so happy to see us, but it was hard to tell if Grandma Mary recognized us.

She was barely responsive, but resting much more calmly than Ted's mom had told us she had been.  It brought back so many memories for me and it was hard to see her so sick.  She did blink her eyes a few times as if she knew what was going on, but was unable to communicate with us.  She began to get a little restless after a little while, so we decided to sing to her.  As we sang, there was such an unexpected peace filling the room, because we were reminded of the hope of heaven that awaits her.

A friend of Grandma Mary came to visit while we were there along with her husband.  He brought his guitar along and they joined us in singing several hymns that Grandma Mary loved.  It was so beautiful to be a part of that circle of love for a woman who has lived a rich and full life and has been such a blessing to us.  As we prepared to leave, we each took a turn giving her one last kiss and whispering our goodbyes.

I was surprised when Valerie asked to say goodbye, because the kids were so nervous about seeing her so sick.  I picked her up and held her while she kissed her forehead.  Then, she whispered "I love you, Grandma" and it near broke my heart.  Almanzo walked over after I set her down and placed his hand in mind, silently asking to say goodbye too.  I could barely see through the cloud of tears as I watched him follow his sister's example.  Our kids have seen too many sad goodbyes already in their short little lives, but they have also been blessed with so much love and such tender hearts.  As Ted said goodbye and I saw him fighting to stay strong and hold back tears, I knew, as hard as it was, we needed to be there and I'm so glad we made the trip.

After we left the hospice center, we followed Grandpa to McDonald's to visit a little more and give him a little break from it all.  They have both been such a blessing to me, as they have loved me as their own grandchildren and encouraged our little family through so many of our own hard times.  Their steadfast faith and unwavering commitment to follow Jesus is truly an inspiration.  We enjoy every single visit with them and our hearts break knowing this was our last visit with Grandma Mary here on earth.

Sunday morning, we went to church and Sunday school with Ted's family, ate lunch, and then packed up to head home.  The drive home was long and exhausting for all of us after an emotional weekend.  The kids were getting restless from spending so much time in the van, so we tried to stop as often as possible, including a longer stop for dinner, but that meant we didn't get home until 11:00 at night.  Needless to say, we started the week out rather run down.  The kids have been praying every night for Grandma Mary "to feel better while she's dying" and for Grandpa Breen "to not be so sad".  Our hearts are aching, but we are grateful that our goodbye was really "until we meet again". 

Goodbye, Great Grandma

The world lost a wonderful woman this morning.  She truly was a great grandma.  Goodbyes never get easier and today our family is simply hurting.  We miss her already and will forever hold her in our hearts.  Our family would so appreciate your prayers today and in the days to come.  Pray especially for my grandma, who lost her mother...and for my mom, as this loss comes so soon after losing her own mom.  This is just so hard. 

Two Years

Today, my mind is flooded with memories of this day two years ago and the phone call from my sister that made it all so final.

"He's gone." 

There will always, always be a missing piece in our family.  Gone...but never forgotten.

I'd love for you to check out this link today to see a glimpse of the man we so loved.  He absolutely adored our children and my daughter still remembers her "great poppy". 

Wearing Red for Grandma

I've blogged already about the days we spent loving on my grandma and saying goodbye, but I wanted to share a few pictures of our family.  Through all the tragedy our family has endured, we have grown stronger and closer, holding each other up through all the tears.  I am so grateful for this family and for the legacy grandma has left us.  Though she is no longer here with us physically, she lives on in each and every one of us. 

Note: We decided to wear red as a way of honoring grandma, because her favorite color was red, and as a way of showing unity as a family.  Every time I wear red, I will think of her.