Running into Uncertainty

Well seems weird to be writing through yet more uncertain times. I wonder what precedented times are. Growing up my youth milestones were Columbine and a time of school before mass shooting drills were a norm. I sat through a day at school before smart phones and TVs were wheeled into classrooms to watch the news of 9/11. These past 3 years will certainly be what my daughters have for lasting memories of wow how weird was that.

These days it’s feeling so much more normal but also still not. It feels less normal when you know someone who had so much life left is hospitalized and passed so quickly. Going to church I was always happy to see his face and he helped me learn the cameras and technology that made enjoy tech team so much.

After 5 years of struggling with grief I can confidently say it never goes away. It changes and I think about those I miss every summer at the lake surrounded by dragonfly’s. I think m of the promise of them living above the water unable to tell us of the joy they can see. I still wish they could say hi for a moment.

Filling the Christmas Stocking

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care. But what to fill with the one who is not here? The lonely stocking meant to be filled with excitement and childhood wonder.

logan stocking.jpgThis year I’ve chosen to do more things to protect myself and my heart. I’m not putting the pressure to organize projects and ceremonies where I will hear his name heard again. I’m realizing more this year that it will still be heard and thought by so many. I don’t need a special ceremony or project to know he’s still being thought of.

Last Christmas I felt such a need to educate, to have Logan not forgotten. I know going into this Christmas my job is more than done. He could never be forgotten, at least in my house he will always have a spot there where his stocking is hung and filled with wishes of what this Christmas would’ve been.

My wish this Christmas is that his stocking will be filled with love by those around us. For his birthday we wrote messages and sent them in balloons to heaven. This year I plan to write Logan a letter of what my favorite memories are from this year. What I think he would’ve liked and what he’d be seeing in our house this Christmas. I’m planning on filling it in his Christmas stocking and keeping it so that each year I can revisit my memories.

I would love for anyone else who has memories or would like a chance to fill his stocking with a picture, note or drawing to send it to me. Can be a text, email or snail mail. I think this will be a great project to look through the years at what our favorite parts of each year have been and show that he’s still a part of it even with him gone.

If you aren’t able to share something, please do a Random Act of Kindness for someone in his memory. The world is better because he was here, even for the short moment it was. Please share that memory with someone else.

 

 

Young Wild and 3

It’s hard to see you as 3 and doing so much yourself. Last night I held your bear and it felt so light compared to how big your baby sister has grown. Logan you continue to make me so proud to be your mama.

It’s hard to see you as 3 and doing so much yourself. Last night I held your bear and it felt so light compared to how big your baby sister has grown. Logan you continue to make me so proud to be your mama.

How I wish I could give you a hug and tell you about all the people who love you so. It’s a day I thought I was prepared for and was still moved by the complex feelings it brings.

I look for signs from you everywhere, and long to be closer to you. You should be here with us at a park or pool or somewhere happy today. I will spend the rest of my life looking for moments filled with Logan. This is the long version of our short hello, until we meet again baby boy. #onedaycloser

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It started at a normal 36 week check up. “This position doesn’t feel right!” Not words you want to hear from your midwife😟 “Let’s do an ultrasound. I’m pretty sure this baby is sideways!” Sure enough, baby was side ways. I was told try spinning babies, look into acupuncture. And if I went into labor come in immediately. Babies can come out with heads and butts but not backs, so I’d be having a guaranteed C-section! Another ultrasound in a week was scheduled and a consult for trying to flip baby if there wasn’t movement before then! Well a C-section just wasn’t what I wanted for my birth plan so I tried it all. Showed up on Friday 37 weeks hoping to not have to have them try to flip baby. Hoping the stretches and acupuncture helped baby move. I really have no idea if it’d worked, I felt kicks but how was I supposed to know a butt from a head in there🤷🏼‍♀️ The ultrasound tech told me, you’re baby is head down! You don’t need to see the doctor, everything looks good. The next Monday I showed up at work and hearing from people “I was sure this was the weekend you’d be in labor!” I was 38 weeks and felt ready for the pregnancy stage to be over, but my oldest went to 39+6 so I was pretty sure I’d still have another week at least with this pregnancy. I finished my day and headed home. We’d made lasagna and joked with my husbands brother that I’d had a few contractions that day. How he was on babysitting duty for the oldest until a grandma could come from across the state. I’d had 2 contractions in our mealtime, but still felt really good. They were really spaced apart and then stopped. So I went upstairs and got Allison bathed and ready for bed. Then I decided I felt the need to lay down and told hubby he was doing stories. I felt like something might be happening and I needed to rest. It was about 9 pm and I decided to try a bath. It was what helped me most in my 1st labor and maybe it’d help me relax. I finally got out and payed in bed while Kevin times my contractions. I still felt it was so early to time anything, but he wasn’t believing me.

By 10pm they were 7 minutes apart. We thought we’d give it a little more time to get to the 5 minute mark before coming into the hospital. Then laying in bed a contraction broke my water. It was a gush of water down my legs that had me questioning, did I just pee myself or was that my water😆I jumped out of bed and rushed to the toilet trying to wipe and checking for blood and meconium while Kevin called the midwife to let her know and that we were on our way. Contractions had already increased to 5 minutes apart.

In the few minutes it took to change and have our neighbor over to stay until Kevin’s brother got here the contractions just kept coming. The timer said by 10:30 they were already 2.5 minutes apart! We rushed into the car for the 25 minute drive to the hospital and called to have them meet us at the ER! I’m sure by this point I was in transition, but had adrenaline going and was still able to talk through my contractions. We pulled in and who knew there were 2 ER doors 🚪 we of course went to the one that they weren’t waiting at! We were met by the nurse who wheeled me upstairs while Kevin parked the car. My hair was down in front of my face and she grabbed a ponytail, whipped it in a bun and wheeled me upstairs. They skipped triage and I went straight to a labor room. They put me on a monitor and I thought thank goodness I didn’t have a baby on the side of the interstate! I heard lots of scrambling and then they had the ultrasound over. “I’ve got a pulse on ultrasound, but it’s breech. Call the OB and OR. We’re coming NOW! She’s complete!” Right then Kevin was finally back. They had me switch on a moving bed. I grabbed his hand and said “what is happening?” He looked at me, “It’s breech, it’s going to be a C-Section.” Because it was an emergency section and I was going under general anesthesia Kevin couldn’t come into the OR with me. He stood outside the doors with the nurse who had first wheeled me up to labor and delivery. He waited and called our moms unsure what to even say, he had no idea what was happening to either of us. I was trying to keep it together and now think of anything I could to stall labor, but my body doesn’t like to labor slowly. All I know is I start having contractions and then in a matter of minutes I seem to have a baby. It was a mess of noise in the OR, lots of moving and sounds while I closed my eyes and tried not to push. The OB asking my name, and what we were doing today. I remember saying we’re getting the baby out. Then I remember feeling the need to push and being told to stop. Then the nurse saying “she can’t help it she’s at a 10!” Then they counted down and I was out for surgery. I’ve had people and medical records to piece together the actual birth part at 12:02 when he entered the world 🌎 Logan was indeed breech and lodged his head was also stuck in my rib cage. He’d also swallowed meconium. Then when he was out he wasn’t responsive. The threading heartbeat from the ultrasound was gone. They worked for 15 minutes on him trying to revive him, then when they were about to call it when a nurse found a faint heartbeat 💗

I’m not really sure how much time passes in surgery until I woke up in recovery I remember being fuzzy and seeing Kevin. Kevin told me the midwife came and said there wasn’t a heartbeat. He wasn’t sure if she meant me or the baby. Then she told him it was a boy and that they weren’t getting him to be able to take a breath. I think the first thing I asked when I woke was “where’s the baby?” Then hearing that he’s in the NICU. They were wanting to transfer him to a higher level nicu, but they were going to wheel him by my room before transferring. I learned we’d had a boy, and that the gender was no longer the biggest surprise of our night. They told me it’d be 15 minutes without a pulse. I’d just refreshed on CPR and remembered after 7 it’s pretty much brain dead. And just kept thinking 15 minutes is too long. They told Kevin he could go to the NICU to see him and that our doula would stay with me. The pains of surgery were starting to set in and my legs were shaking uncontrollably and I was trying not to vomit 🤢 all over everything! I remember thinking I’m high on morphine and going to have to make the hardest choices of my life.

I can remember Kevin calling and asking if Logan Michael was ok for his name. We’d been on the fence for days about a middle name and he needed a name to be transferred. Then when they were getting close to the transfer our photographer came back to capture us and baby meeting before transfer. Then Kevin walked back in with the neonatologist. Kevin said he just kept having seizures and then the extent of the brain damage was explained. The doctor explained all his risks of a transfer and the amount of brain damage she was seeing. Then she carefully explained our 2 options for Logan.

Let him die with us and make him as comfortable as we could with us or try to continue treatments transferring him to a higher level NICU. Our seemingly normal labor 3 short hours earlier these were not the options I was thinking of making for my baby. I knew that I couldn’t bear the thought of him dying away from me. I knew that it was a huge risk that he’d even survive the drive across town. I couldn’t let him be in someone else’s arms in that moment before I’d even met him. I couldn’t bear to put him through treatment that would still likely never allow him to come home. We looked at each other and just felt the weight of what we were having to decide. Are we taking away his chance at life to be selfish and keep him near us? Was it selfish to try to continue treatment? I kept thinking about how long he’d be without oxygen and how much he’d already been through. Kevin had seen first hand how frail he really was and the beginning promises of transferring and getting me recovered to be discharged to be with him were a forgotten memory.

We knew that he needed to be with us. We wanted to hold him and have his death be a peaceful place not filled with machines and strangers. They told us they’d get me set up in my recovery room and then bring him in. Then they asked us about who to call. Would our 2 1/2 year old be ready to meet her brother who was going to die? I remember thinking how am I going to explain this to her. She knew a new baby was coming, how do I explain death to her? My friend who was our photographer came to sit by me and asked will it be any easier to explain it if she doesn’t get to meet her brother? I really think she should be here. It was the push I needed to think about what her grief needs would be and we woke up Kevin’s brother and said get down her. Around this same time my mom arrived, making the 3 hour midnight drive from Arkansas. I felt relief knowing she’d made it before he’d died. We sat in post op calling Kevin’s parents, and trying to reach our pastor to see if he could baptize Logan for us. We didn’t have his number, so we tried Facebook, and calling all our friends to try to reach him. We finally found someone who had his number, but he wasn’t answering. So he ended up driving at 4am to his house to knock on the door to wake him up! We finally got wheeled into recovery after what felt like days since I still hadn’t seen my baby boy. I remember wheeling me to a corner, and asking for more morphine as I was jostled around and felt like my stomach was going to split open again. Then when I was finally settled, they wheeled in the bassinet with all the cords and machine noises and our little boy in the middle. 

They slowly unhooked him from the beeping machines and moved his swaddled body over to my bed. I held Kevin’s hand and held my breath. I knew these would be the precious few moments we’d have together. 

Then his doctor placed him in my arms and I felt my heart break over seeing his perfect face. And I heard his struggle of a squeak as he tried to breathe.

We held him and cried over knowing we’d be giving him back. We cried knowing that he would never know life outside of this hospital. We would never see him take a first step, or smile at the sound of our voices. We knew these small hours were his only with us.

Shortly after he was taken off of life support and in my arms big sister came with Uncle Justin. All she did was look with pride that her baby brother was here. I can’t even remember how we tried to explain death to her. I think she understand mommy had an owie from the baby coming out and that he couldn’t come home. I remember her saying he’s not opening his eyes. It’s probably the part that stuck with her the most. My whole pregnancy with Joanna she kept saying “mommy, do you really hope this baby will open her eyes?” And when Joanna was born she was worried that her first picture she saw her eyes were closed.

She was the face of joy celebrating that he was born, reminding us that even though our hearts were being shredded into pieces that the moment of meeting him was still so amazing! We had our photographer take our picture as a family of 4. I kept thinking I hadn’t showered, my hair is still in the sweaty bun the nurse helped me with as I was wheeled in. I’m a crying mess on morphine and this is my only picture as the 4 of us! How messed up is this right now?

We made footprint and handprints trying to remember every moment. We held him and just told him how much we loved him. Around 8 our pastors came and prayed over him and baptized him. We texted what we could manage to a few friends letting them know he wouldn’t be able to come home, not yet ready for phone calls. We called our bosses and told the short story that something went wrong, we were ok, but we’d be planning a funeral and wouldn’t be at work for a while.

Our nurse asked me if I had thought about my milk coming in. I surprisingly had, I knew I was going to pump and donate. I’d donated before and knew it was my one gift I could give from this mess onto someone else. We never put him down his whole 14 1/2 hours of life. He was held in the arms of love for those short seconds of life. By the afternoon his breathing had weakened and his first bright rosy cheeks were becoming more ashen. We knew he only had minutes left.

We asked everyone to leave and Kevin kneeled on the floor as we both held Logan and cried. Have you ever cried so much that you ran out of tears? ? Your swollen eyes just give out and dry up while a current of unrest still gushes through your soul. And you look up toward heaven in utter frustration. That was us! I felt the Holy Spirit in those moments more than any place I have been. I felt an anger at God that these were my only moments and that I was forgotten. I felt cheated. I thought of all my friends with babies that were in their arms and here I was giving my son back to God at less than 1 day old.

We asked our pastor came and prayed and sat with us as we said our goodbye saying we will see you one day again. We then let the rest of our family in and held hands and prayed and sung “Jesus loves the little children.” After a while the nurse had asked if they could take him and we could get sleep. At this point we’d been up for about 36 hours straight. They assured me that if I wanted him back during the night they would bring him back. I reluctantly let him go, and tried to think of him going to the nursery rather than the morgue.

Our hospital didn’t have a cuddle cot which would’ve given him more time in our room. Now I’ve learned about these amazing devices that help keep the babies body cool and allows for less time saying repeated goodbyes as the baby goes to the morgue. My nurse tried to help me finally move out of bed and I felt like my stomach was being ripped open again now realizing I’d still have recovery from the c section to get through.

My midwife asked if I wanted something to help me sleep. I said, sure I guess I’ll take anything you’re giving at this point and finally drifted to sleep. I still had to be waken up for vitals and the fun massaging of the uterus. Just another reminder my stomach was empty and this was an awful reality. The next morning I asked for Logan back as soon as I woke up. I’d asked my mom to try to pick up some more clay for footprints. I remember her getting to the hospital and saying, the clerk said “have a nice day, I just thought what is wrong with the world for still going on? This is not a nice day.” We called our friend and photographer and asked if she could come back and do pictures of us as a family with him before the funeral home had to come to get him.

We took more pictures and then after it was becoming more evident that his skin needed to go back into a cooler we reluctantly tucked him back into his crib with his blanket and teddy bear as the nurse wheeled him away. Later that evening we made a call to the funeral home our pastor recommended and they came to pick up Logan and take him back to the funeral home. I spent the next days reading blogs and Pinterest finds about planning a funeral for a baby, looking for someone who had walked this path and was still functioning.

Cloud on My Heart

This week has been a blur of doing a million summer memories, spending time together and also a time where we know our hearts are starting to feel heavier.

There’s a 3 year old we aren’t going to be throwing your “traditional” birthday party for. Mostly because there’s no 3 year old boy to blow out his candles here.

Big sis has more empathy and love for him and us than I ever knew could exist. I’ve been feeling on edge, and after the 3rd potty break in 20 minutes I lost it🤯

At bedtime I apologized if mommy and daddy felt angry these last few days. Sometimes our sadness comes out in ways of yelling or frustration. It’s really that we just miss Logan and are mad he’s not here right now.

Then she said “Mommy, I feel that way too! I get sad when I get in trouble sometimes when really I’m just sad and miss him too❤️!”

My mama heart melted thinking of her behavior this way, and how dumb me didn’t put it together! Then she said probably the most profound thing that could come from Glitter Force

“it’s like on my show when the dark cloud comes over your heart. It doesn’t stay forever, but you just feel different when it’s there! But I know it goes away and gets lighter 🌈”

I mean this kid will be moving mountains one day, and maybe one of the best therapists I know, who can make a pretty brainless tv show have a bigger meaning! Friday is coming and I feel that weight knowing the anniversary/birthday/death day are all so freakin close.

This next week I maybe writing a little more, because it makes me feel lighter and that the dark clouds on my heart break for a few moments! So if you don’t want to read emotional stuff, see pictures of my son, then check back after the 26th😉 but even then I won’t ever apologize for the uncomfortable feelings you may have! He is my son, and deserves to be shared and loved just as much as his sisters are!

Baby Love…you were here for a moment and loved for a lifetime

I remember staring at the wall of the shower as the water poured over me. Arguing with God that I had already given him my son. Why did he take my Hope too?

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Why was I suffering and losing another child? I talk so much about Logan, but 2 years ago I walked into the ER with my 3 year old on my hip, hoping the bleeding wasn’t what I’d feared. That this baby was supposed to be our renewal, our “Baby Love”.

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Instead we got the news we feared, there’s no longer a heartbeat, and baby love had stopped growing 4 weeks prior.

I thought afterwards that maybe having another baby in our house wasn’t something I was meant to walk again. If you’ve walked a miscarriage or infant loss, you know the fear feels are so real.

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Joanna I’m thankful that you helped me through my fears, my anger, my tears. If we’d had baby love we might not have had you. I wish I could be holding all 4 of you babies, and one day in heaven I will hold you sweet baby love!

The Kids Who Made Me Mom

What a strange day this is. I think it’s usually full of expectations that rarely are all fulfilled. A day that’s hard for women waiting to be moms, wanting all her kids in a picture, babies that weren’t big enough to hold. If you are missing your child, longing for one wanting this day to be looking different, I see you, I feel you and I understand all the feelings of this day.⠀⠀

If you are blessed enough to have all of your children in a picture you have no idea how blessed you are. I am holding 2 girls who have taught me so much about life and my 2 in my heart ❤️ who have taught me more about love.

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You have all made me a mom and made me understand and appreciate all the Mom’s in my life. Happy Mothers’ Day to the many amazing women and moms who have shaped me and my girls. To the moms that are watching my babies in heaven for me. #whatshehastaughtme is how to love and that love never goes away!

#TheStoryOfLogan

Have you ever cried so much that you ran out of tears? ? Your swollen eyes just give out and dry up while a current of unrest still gushes through your soul. And you look up toward heaven in utter frustration. That was us!

My soul was crying and pleading with God to take this away from me. Make this not my sons story. As much as I pleaded I couldn’t change what was happening.

It is finished. I feel just exhausted from all of the heart work this took getting put onto paper. It’s taken me 929 days to write this and put the full story from my perspective down. It’s raw and I could keep editing it for years more I’m sure.

I realized a few weeks ago, in all my writings I’ve never actually sat down and told my version of Logan’s story. It’s something so personal that feels like heaven has to come down to give me the words. I hope you find you know a little more about me and Logan after hearing his 14.5 hour life story.

I will spend the rest of my life looking for moments filled with Logan. This is the long version of our short hello, until we meet again in heaven.

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It started at a normal 36 week check up. “This position doesn’t feel right!”

Not words you want to hear from your midwife😟

“Let’s do an ultrasound. I’m pretty sure this baby is sideways!”

Sure enough, baby was side ways. I was told try spinning babies, look into acupuncture. And if I went into labor come in immediately. Babies can come out with heads and butts but not backs, so I’d be having a guaranteed C-section! Another ultrasound in a week was scheduled and a consult for trying to flip baby if there wasn’t movement before then!

Well a C-section just wasn’t what I wanted for my birth plan so I tried it all. Showed up on Friday 37 weeks hoping to not have to have them try to flip baby. Hoping the stretches and acupuncture helped baby move. I really have no idea if it’d worked, I felt kicks but how was I supposed to know a butt from a head in there🤷🏼‍♀️

The ultrasound tech told me, you’re baby is head down! You don’t need to see the doctor, everything looks good.

The next Monday I showed up at work and hearing from people “I was sure this was the weekend you’d be in labor!”

I was 38 weeks and felt ready for the pregnancy stage to be over, but my oldest went to 39+6 so I was pretty sure I’d still have another week at least with this pregnancy. I finished my day and headed home. We’d made lasagna and joked with my husbands brother that I’d had a few contractions that day. How he was on babysitting duty for the oldest until a grandma could come from across the state.

I’d had 2 contractions in our mealtime, but still felt really good. They were really spaced apart and then stopped. So I went upstairs and got Allison bathed and ready for bed. Then I decided I felt the need to lay down and told hubby he was doing stories. I felt like something might be happening and I needed to rest.

It was about 9 pm and I decided to try a bath. It was what helped me most in my 1st labor and maybe it’d help me relax. I finally got out and payed in bed while Kevin times my contractions. I still felt it was so early to time anything, but he wasn’t believing me.

By 10pm they were 7 minutes apart. We thought we’d give it a little more time to get to the 5 minute mark before coming into the hospital. Then laying in bed a contraction broke my water. It was a gush of water down my legs that had me questioning, did I just pee myself or was that my water😆I jumped out of bed and rushed to the toilet trying to wipe and checking for blood and meconium while Kevin called the midwife to let her know and that we were on our way. Contractions had already increased to 5 minutes apart.

In the few minutes it took to change and have our neighbor over to stay until Kevin’s brother got here the contractions just kept coming. The timer said by 10:30 they were already 2.5 minutes apart! We rushed into the car for the 25 minute drive to the hospital and called to have them meet us at the ER!

I’m sure by this point I was in transition, but had adrenaline going and was still able to talk through my contractions.

We pulled in and who knew there were 2 ER doors 🚪 we of course went to the one that they weren’t waiting at! We were met by the nurse who wheeled me upstairs while Kevin parked the car. My hair was down in front of my face and she grabbed a ponytail, whipped it in a bun and wheeled me upstairs. They skipped triage and I went straight to a labor room. They put me on a monitor and I thought thank goodness I didn’t have a baby on the side of the interstate!

I heard lots of scrambling and then they had the ultrasound over. “I’ve got a pulse on ultrasound, but it’s breech. Call the OB and OR. We’re coming NOW! She’s complete!” Right then Kevin was finally back. They had me switch on a moving bed. I grabbed his hand and said “what is happening?” He looked at me, “It’s breech, it’s going to be a C-Section.”

Because it was an emergency section and I was going under general anesthesia Kevin couldn’t come into the OR with me. He stood outside the doors with the nurse who had first wheeled me up to labor and delivery. He waited and called our moms unsure what to even say, he had no idea what was happening to either of us.

I was trying to keep it together and now think of anything I could to stall labor, but my body doesn’t like to labor slowly. All I know is I start having contractions and then in a matter of minutes I seem to have a baby.

It was a mess of noise in the OR, lots of moving and sounds while I closed my eyes and tried not to push. The OB asking my name, and what we were doing today. I remember saying we’re getting the baby out. Then I remember feeling the need to push and being told to stop. Then the nurse saying “she can’t help it she’s at a 10!” Then they counted down and I was out for surgery.

I’ve had people and medical records to piece together the actual birth part at 12:02 when he entered the world 🌎 Logan was indeed breech and lodged his head was also stuck in my rib cage. He’d also swallowed meconium. Then when he was out he wasn’t responsive. The threading heartbeat from the ultrasound was gone. They worked for 15 minutes on him trying to revive him, then when they were about to call it when a nurse found a faint heartbeat 💗

I’m not really sure how much time passes in surgery until I woke up in recovery I remember being fuzzy and seeing Kevin.

Kevin told me the midwife came and said there wasn’t a heartbeat. He wasn’t sure if she meant me or the baby. Then she told him it was a boy and that they weren’t getting him to be able to take a breath.

I think the first thing I asked when I woke was “where’s the baby?” Then hearing that he’s in the NICU. They were wanting to transfer him to a higher level nicu, but they were going to wheel him by my room before transferring. I learned we’d had a boy, and that the gender was no longer the biggest surprise of our night.

They told me it’d be 15 minutes without a pulse. I’d just refreshed on CPR and remembered after 7 it’s pretty much brain dead. And just kept thinking 15 minutes is too long. They told Kevin he could go to the NICU to see him and that our doula would stay with me. The pains of surgery were starting to set in and my legs were shaking uncontrollably and I was trying not to vomit 🤢 all over everything!

I remember thinking I’m high on morphine and going to have to make the hardest choices of my life.

I can remember Kevin calling and asking if Logan Michael was ok for his name. We’d been on the fence for days about a middle name and he needed a name to be transferred. Then when they were getting close to the transfer our photographer came back to capture us and baby meeting before transfer.

Then Kevin walked back in with the neonatologist. Kevin said he just kept having seizures and then the extent of the brain damage was explained. The doctor explained all his risks of a transfer and the amount of brain damage she was seeing. Then she carefully explained our 2 options for Logan.

Let him die with us and make him as comfortable as we could with us or try to continue treatments transferring him to a higher level NICU.

Our seemingly normal labor 3 short hours earlier these were not the options I was thinking of making for my baby. I knew that I couldn’t bear the thought of him dying away from me. I knew that it was a huge risk that he’d even survive the drive across town. I couldn’t let him be in someone else’s arms in that moment before I’d even met him. I couldn’t bear to put him through treatment that would still likely never allow him to come home.

We looked at each other and just felt the weight of what we were having to decide. Are we taking away his chance at life to be selfish and keep him near us? Was it selfish to try to continue treatment? I kept thinking about how long he’d be without oxygen and how much he’d already been through. Kevin had seen first hand how frail he really was and the beginning promises of transferring and getting me recovered to be discharged to be with him were a forgotten memory.

We knew that he needed to be with us. We wanted to hold him and have his death be a peaceful place not filled with machines and strangers. They told us they’d get me set up in my recovery room and then bring him in.

Then they asked us about who to call. Would our 2 1/2 year old be ready to meet her brother who was going to die? I remember thinking how am I going to explain this to her. She knew a new baby was coming, how do I explain death to her? My friend who was our photographer came to sit by me and asked will it be any easier to explain it if she doesn’t get to meet her brother? I really think she should be here. It was the push I needed to think about what her grief needs would be and we woke up Kevin’s brother and said get down her.

Around this same time my mom arrived, making the 3 hour midnight drive from Arkansas. I felt relief knowing she’d made it before he’d died.

We sat in post op calling Kevin’s parents, and trying to reach our pastor to see if he could baptize Logan for us. We didn’t have his number, so we tried Facebook, and calling all our friends to try to reach him. We finally found someone who had his number, but he wasn’t answering. So he ended up driving at 4am to his house to knock on the door to wake him up!

We finally got wheeled into recovery after what felt like days since I still hadn’t seen my baby boy. I remember wheeling me to a corner, and asking for more morphine as I was jostled around and felt like my stomach was going to split open again.

Then when I was finally settled, they wheeled in the bassinet with all the cords and machine noises and our little boy in the middle. 

They slowly unhooked him from the beeping machines and moved his swaddled body over to my bed. I held Kevin’s hand and held my breath. I knew these would be the precious few moments we’d have together. 

Then his doctor placed him in my arms and I felt my heart break over seeing his perfect face. And I heard his struggle of a squeak as he tried to breathe.

We held him and cried over knowing we’d be giving him back. We cried knowing that he would never know life outside of this hospital. We would never see him take a first step, or smile at the sound of our voices. We knew these small hours were his only with us.

Shortly after he was taken off of life support and in my arms big sister came with Uncle Justin. All she did was look with pride that her baby brother was here. I can’t even remember how we tried to explain death to her. I think she understand mommy had an owie from the baby coming out and that he couldn’t come home.

I remember her saying he’s not opening his eyes. It’s probably the part that stuck with her the most. My whole pregnancy with Joanna she kept saying “mommy, do you really hope this baby will open her eyes?” And when Joanna was born she was worried that her first picture she saw her eyes were closed.

She was the face of joy celebrating that he was born, reminding us that even though our hearts were being shredded into pieces that the moment of meeting him was still so amazing!

We had our photographer take our picture as a family of 4. I kept thinking I hadn’t showered, my hair is still in the sweaty bun the nurse helped me with as I was wheeled in. I’m a crying mess on morphine and this is my only picture as the 4 of us! How messed up is this right now?

We made footprint and handprints trying to remember every moment. We held him and just told him how much we loved him. Around 8 our pastors came and prayed over him and baptized him. We texted what we could manage to a few friends letting them know he wouldn’t be able to come home, not yet ready for phone calls. We called our bosses and told the short story that something went wrong, we were ok, but we’d be planning a funeral and wouldn’t be at work for a while.

Our nurse asked me if I had thought about my milk coming in. I surprisingly had, I knew I was going to pump and donate. I’d donated before and knew it was my one gift I could give from this mess onto someone else.

We never put him down his whole 14 1/2 hours of life. He was held in the arms of love for those short seconds of life. By the afternoon his breathing had weakened and his first bright rosy cheeks were becoming more ashen. We knew he only had minutes left. We asked everyone to leave and Kevin kneeled on the floor as we both held Logan and cried.

Have you ever cried so much that you ran out of tears? ? Your swollen eyes just give out and dry up while a current of unrest still gushes through your soul. And you look up toward heaven in utter frustration. That was us!

I felt the Holy Spirit winter in those moments more than any place I have been. I felt an anger at God that these were my only moments and that I was forgotten. I felt cheated. I thought of all my friends with babies that were in their arms and here I was giving my son back to God at less than 1 day old.

Our pastor came and prayed and sat with us as we said our goodbye saying we will see you one day again. We then let the rest of our family in and held hands and prayed and sung “Jesus loves the little children.”

After a while the nurse had asked if they could take him and we could get sleep. At this point we’d been up for about 36 hours straight. They assured me that if I wanted him back during the night they would bring him back. I reluctantly let him go, and tried to think of him going to the nursery rather than the morgue.

Our hospital did t have a cuddle cot which would’ve given him more time in our room. Now I’ve learned about these amazing devices that help keep the babies body cool and allows for less time saying repeated goodbyes as the baby goes to the morgue.

My nurse tried to help me finally move out of bed and I felt like my stomach was being ripped open again now realizing I’d still have recovery from the c section to get through. My midwife asked if I wanted something to help me sleep. I said, sure I guess I’ll take anything you’re giving at this point and finally drifted to sleep.

I still had to be waken up for vitals and the fun massaging of the uterus. Just another reminder my stomach was empty and this was an awful reality.

The next morning I asked for Logan back as soon as I woke up.

I’d asked my mom to try to pick up some more clay for footprints. I remember her getting to the hospital and saying, the clerk said “have a nice day, I just thought what is wrong with the world for still going on? This is not a nice day.”

We called our friend and photographer and asked if she could come back and do pictures of us as a family with him before the funeral home had to come to get him. We took more pictures and then after it was becoming more evident that his skin needed to go back into a cooler we reluctantly tucked him back into his crib with his blanket and teddy bear as the nurse wheeled him away.

Later that evening we made a call to the funeral home our pastor recommended and they came to pick up Logan and take him back to the funeral home. I spent the next days reading blogs and Pinterest finds about planning a funeral for a baby, looking for someone who had walked this path and was still functioning.

Looking Forward and Turning A New Page

“Whenever and however you intend to give birth, your experience will impact your emotions, your mind, your body and your spirt for the rest of your life.” Ina May Gaskin

The moment a child is born a mother is born too. A woman whose life and identity is changed as a new person is now able to call her mom.

To my beautiful girl I can’t wait to meet.

You don’t know this, but tomorrow will be your birthday. The dates been marked on our calendars for months hoping that you would be able to stay safe until the break of dawn tomorrow when you have grown to a stone 37 week fighter. I hope you know how happy I am that you have been kicking like crazy and keeping mommy up at night. Thank you for allowing me to remember the best parts of pregnancy and not just the worst it can be.

I am cherishing the last few hours our hearts are beating in one body together. I pray that you will be ready for living in this outside world. I pray that you will get to know so much love and how fiercely you are already loved and prayed for by so many. I can’t wait to meet you and feel you in my arms.

Until tomorrow baby girl. I love you to the moon, and past the stars.

Mama

Meaning of a Rainbow

If you’re a part of the infant and pregnancy loss community you probably already know the term Rainbow Baby. A rainbow is a baby born after the storms of grief from miscarriage, still birth or death in infancy. It’s supposed to give us hope of new coming.

It’s hard for me to explain how a rainbow pregnancy/baby are not all happiness and smiles. It’s hard to explain how an expectant mother can’t be absolutely excited every moment, especially after enduring so much loss.

There’s the fears that now there is a new baby to focus on that everyone will think we’re better or now we’re normal again because we’re having another baby. It’s the fear that we’re having another baby to replace the one who died. And the biggest fear that now there’s a new baby everyone will have forgotten the ones who’ve died.

The anger that comes when people say, “Now you’ll know how hard it is with 2 kids.” or how they ask the living child “Are you excited to be a big sister now?” I don’t know how to answer these unknowingly curel questions. I do know what it’s like to have 2 kids. Do I answer with, ‘Do you know how hard it is to parent when one of them lives in heaven?’ Or do I answer, ‘I know how hard it is to be up all night crying for a newborn who isn’t crying?’ It’s questions during pregnancy that completely have forgotten there was another one in between.

It’s complicated because we fear being happy for this baby, while at the same time wishing our other child was here. It’s a fear that this child will have unreasonable expectations to live their life and the life for their sibling(s) who couldn’t.

The pregnancy after loss is nothing like the one before. The innocence is gone that every pregnancy ends in a happy and healthy mom and baby. We had hoped our first rainbow pregnancy would be this child, and ended in more of the storms of grief for what couldn’t have been.

A rainbow doesn’t come without the rain and the storms of grief. Just because you see a rainbow, doesn’t mean the storm is over. Even in the eye of the storm there is quiet for a moment to recognize this pregnancy as its own, not tangled in the memories of the past. It’s not always a long moment, but when it comes the moment of peace and rainbows is so welcomed.

A Birthday Lost in Neverland

2 years in heaven is as if it was a lifetime ago and yesterday at the same time. We will be remembering you and trying to celebrate you the best we can as the waves come and surround us today.

If you are on Instagram and want to remember his story search for #Instabirth0726 and see his birth and life story and help us remember his short time here.

Happy Birthday Logan boy. I can hardly believe it’s been 2 years since I was clinging to you in my arms wishing for a miracle that would selfishly keep you with me. I know we made the right decision to not let you suffer, but I still wish you hadn’t had to go before me on your journey to heaven. It’s just against every pattern our lives are supposed to follow.

I’ve heard your in a better place at least 1,000 times and I’ve rejoiced at least this many times for you. But I still just feel homesick longing for you. I just feel out of place on days like today. Torn between heaven and Earth and not being able to be seeing your face on days like this.

I have no idea what being a boy mom is like. Would your party have been all about dinosaurs or construction stuff like your daddy? Instead of opening new toys to celebrate you we open messages of remembering you. I have so been wondering what you would be looking like at 2. Would have lost your baby fat by now, how many words would you be able to say? What would you have thought of me if you’d been able to open your eyes? Would you have said this family is crazy and loud and been the quiet introvert or been screaming with the craziness of your big sister?

There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t absolutely ache for you little boy. I wish I had some great silver lining to make anyone reading this feel better, but really losing someone this close to you and changing the life plans you thought you had isn’t a silver lining. It’s just hard.

You learn to still breathe and somehow figure out how to do things like pay bills and feed the 4 year old. You do learn to laugh again. But I will always have a moment of looking at the moments of happiness and seeing one face missing. Seeing one little blonde boy with chubby cheeks who should be grinning with me.

I’m going to celebrate today and the 15 hours you were here where you touched so many. You’ve taught us big grown ups way more than we thought we’d ever learn from a guy who’d just gotten here.

So though you’re not going to get the chance to grow up and are forever staying a lost boy like Peter Pan I’m sure you’re still going to wait for me. Logan know your mommy and daddy always have a place for you in our hearts. You are forever loved and forever missed. Especially on days like this. We love you to the moon, the sun and all the stars.

Grace upon grace

Please give me grace for where I am each day. Please forgive me when I flake out on plans because I just found a little sock and have now been crying on the floor for 20 minutes. Give me grace when I’m too afraid to let my living children out of my sight when you offer to babysit.

A few weeks ago another loss mom bravely posted about people asking her what they could do to support her family or others going through loss. Her response was spot on. She said show grace!

I couldn’t have thought of a better answer for what I feel so many who don’t know grief may not know were even asking for.

Please give me grace for where I am each day. Please forgive me when I flake out on plans because I just found a little sock and have now been crying on the floor for 20 minutes. Give me grace when I’m too afraid to let my living children out of my sight when you offer to babysit.

Give me grace when I don’t act as excited as you think I should be over this new pregnancy. I’m a mess of anxiety, hope, love and grief all blended into 1 head just trying to keep it together for this moment.

Give me grace when I flake out on the plans that involve kids who should be playmates of my dead child. When I think I will be strong enough for that birthday or shower, but when the moment comes I just can’t face it with a smile. For when we’d rather be thought of as rude for not coming than as the weird party goer hiding crying in the bathroom.

Give us grace when others don’t acknowledge our lost child and see us bear the knife wound of having to correct the number of children or leaving us just saying their names in our heads.

Please just still be my friend, but know I’m not the same. My life has a before and after moms and sometimes what seems so small and insignificant is so hard for us. Please be gentle and remember we are really trying to do the best we can, we just need some extra grace in our lives.

Hoping For A Rainbow

There is no safe time of pregnancy to announce where loss isn’t a possibility. I know that no matter the length or outcome of this pregnancy we won’t get through it alone. It takes a village.

A rainbow is a promise of sunshine after rain. Of calm after the storm, joy after sadness, peace after pain and love after loss.

Well, it’s come time for the post I didn’t know if I would one day get to write or if I would decide to share with the world. This time felt calmer and I’ve enjoyed my time with just keeping the circle small. I’m to the point where I’m ready to share this new part of our pregnancies journey. We are hopeful for a different ending, but loving this baby every moment we are able to spend together.

The real fear for me has been what reaction or stupid thing will I hear someone say and pretend I’m ok even when those words crushed me. It’s not that anyone is purposely trying to hurt me. I think everyone sees a baby as nothing but joy and innocence and it’s harder to explain when you’ve gone through an entire pregnancy only to not go home with your baby. The list below is the questions I dread and the basic answer is because it’s complicated!

1. “Is this your first?”

Ok, you don’t know how many miscarriages, abortions for medical reasons, stillborn, multiples who couldn’t thrive a woman has already had. This is way too complicated, especially considering miscarriage is 1 in 4 pregnancies! Unless you’re her doctor this makes no difference to you so please just stop!

2. “How many kids do you have already?”

I absolutely hate this question! Do I say 1, since she’s the only 1 living. Do I say 1 on Earth and 1 in heaven? This is actually my 4th pregnancy, but my 3rd only lived inside me for 10 weeks and we know so little. It’s a complicated question, so just don’t ask.

3. “Do you want a boy or girl?”

Ugh, I really just want a baby that cries after delivery who is breathing. Boy, girl or alien doesn’t matter to me. It gets more complicated after loss. A boy can remind me of what I’ve missed with Logan. But I also don’t want a boy that lives in the shadow of a dead child. A girl can be complicated because I’ll be thinking what she would be like with Logan, or wishing she would have been a boy like Logan. Like everything, it’s complicated!

4. “Are you excited?”

This is really a moment to moment question. I know it’s hard for most to think of a pregnancy as anything but exciting. There’s mixtures of excitement, hope, fears, anxiety, terrified. They all basically live together right now. So if I go from smiling one minute to crying uncontrollably it’s probably a combination of all of this plus you know pregnancy hormones!

5. “It’ll all workout. You deserve this after everything.”

Although I’d like to think I deserve that, I’ve felt that before and been completely broken. I’ve had to be reminded in the hardest of ways that we live in a broken world. I’ve lost well past the 12 week “danger zone” and then loss upon loss with our miscarriage. Sometimes there is no silver lining. Sometimes life just sucks.

7. “Are you doing anything different?”

So by doing different, I’m assuming you’re asking me, what will I do to try to not have my baby die? Well my 2 losses did not occur through any faults of my own or my care providers.

In case anyone doesn’t already know how this is not my fault: Logan moves in labor, his ultrasound 2 days prior was head down and no problems. Come delivery he went breech and landed on his cord when my water broke. The miscarriage I will never truly know, but most likely it was just not the right combo of cells to grow. Miscarriage happens 1 in 4 pregnancies. When we had our ultrasound during this we were told we were the 5th one that day. So if you haven’t suffered this loss, be thankful, but you most likely know several others who have.

Deep Within My Soul

The saying time heals all wounds must never have felt a wound like this. a wound that changes you to think what would be different or what are we missing that I think everyday.

The saying “Time heals al wounds” has never felt like such bologna to me as it has these past 18 months. It changes you and your feelings forever, but to say I’m healed feels like a lie. Like I would be saying I’m always ok with my child in heaven.

Yes I’m sure heaven is great, and sadly I know lots of other babies are up there with him. It still doesn’t mean I don’t wish he was here with me. Recently it’s been the thought of what would our family look like with him here. Would we make the same travel plans? Would we be getting a babysitter? Then there’s every family photo without his growing face. He should be walking and babbling and being a toddler terror by now.

I can remember in early grief days after getting home and reaching out to someone else who had lost a baby. I remember as I wrote to her thinking she’ll know how to keep breathing, keep trying. Look at her, she’s gone on to have another child. Life has gone on her for her. I realize these past few months how right she was in her honest response to me.

She told me that grief still sucks, even after 3 years. Having to take care of another kid and husband when all you feel like is broken. It just plain sucks. The best thing to do is get support.

Her words feel so true. It just plain sucks. I think how unfair and cheated I feel to have been so close to taking him home with us! I feel anger for every other family that has had this suffering!

I’m not sure if it’s as common for everyone, but my first year of grief was much more about keeping his memory alive, trying to not let him be forgotten as memories of 2016 fade into the past. For me the 2nd year has been for me. It’s been about trying to find a way to give out grace. To not say ‘yes’ to every invite to a party every weekend. It’s just that sometimes seeing families with siblings kills me. I think I should have 3 in my home right now. I should be pulling my hair out from no sleep and having 2 under 2! It’s about trying to make more time with my daughter and husband.

If I say no to visitors or trips don’t take it personally. I’m just giving myself more quiet time that I am just realizing how much I truly need. It’s a different place of needing quiet for me. A place where the heartbreak club feels so real.

Holiday Blues

Sometimes the sounds of Christmas are just hard. I don’t know if I will ever fully be able to listen to silent night without breaking down.

There’s moments that make it such a mixture of guilt, sadness, anger, love and joy all mixed together. It’s not always easy to navigate them.

I feel like I’ve heard “I can’t imagine!” So many times when I tell people Logan’s story. They can’t imagine an infant seemingly healthy 1 moment and a code blue the next. They can’t imagine the choices of hospice or lifetime ventilator. They can’t imagine burying their newborn and still functioning.

I know they could imagine it, it’s just that my nightmare is too much for them to even think of as a possibility. When people ask me how I do it, I’m really not sure. I really wasn’t given another choice.

I wish that there were far fewer people having a Blue Christmas this year. For those who are having a hard month, this song sums up my feelings for this month.

Please let the calendar hit January quickly!

What I’ve Accomplished and Not

Sometimes a shower and getting out of bed feels like you deserve an Oscar or some other equivalent!

 

I feel like I’ve accomplished a lot today. I not only got out of bed, I successfully showered, got ready and got my 4 year old ready and out the door. I even got her and myself to work and daycare on time! This may seem like a super small accomplishment to be celebrating, but some days it’s all you can do.

It was one of those mornings where the reality hit me. I should have 3 babies in my house right now. I should have a 4 year old, a toddler and a new born. I should be on maternity leave right now. Ok, my due date wasn’t until the 27th, but I was supposed to have a scheduled C-section by now with a new squishy in my arms.

It’s the time where you go to the mailbox and see everyone’s smiles and kids’ faces staring back at you. I so badly wish our cards could include all 3 kids in the same photo and all sleeping under the same roof. This week it’s not the loss of Logan and Love that has been hurting me, it’s the loss of the memories they aren’t a part of. I won’t get to see them waking up early Christmas morning, or asking how much longer until Christmas. I won’t bake special cookies with them or read them the Christmas story in the same way I can with Allie. It’s a gut punch some days of what my life isn’t.

I know it’s a myth we tell ourselves that Christmas should be this perfect time of year. We should have all these great memories. I know I’ve had past holiday’s where snow prevented us from going anywhere. And the one where the pie was dropped! I know my past holidays were far from perfect, so wanting this one to be that is an unrealistic fantasy. I just would just settle for normal. I would like to be able to say my sons name and not tearing up as much. I would settle for just feeling peace for the next couple weeks.

The Unfilled Stocking

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care. It’s been staring at me these past weeks thinking of what Logan needs. He’s not needing toys or clothes. So instead I’m filling his with memories for him and for us.

This year I’ve chosen to slow down more and to do things that protect my heart this season. I’m not as worried as I was last year about making sure to organize memorial memories of Logan and ensuring I’d hear his name. I’m taking pressure off myself to organize a special time for him to be remembered. The truth is he’s remembered everyday, so making an assigned time of remembrance seems like unnecessary work to me right now.

I do t feel I have to do as much educating about what grief is and that Christmas will always be both happy and sad. I am not worried that he’s been forgotten and will never be remembered especially this time of year. I’ve been shown how he has a place in so many other homes besides mine. He’s being talked of and is loved by so many.

My wish this Christmas is that his stocking will be filled with love and memories. For Logan’s first birthday we wrote him messages and sent them in balloons to him. This Christmas I’m going to do something similar. I’m writing him some of my favorite memories of this past year. My hopes for what he might’ve enjoyed and placing it in his stocking. I’m thinking this will be my new tradition to pull out the old years memories and revisit the past and place a hope for the future.

If anyone else would like to join me in placing a memory, picture or note for Logan in his stocking I would love to add it. You can text, email or snail mail it to me to add it to his 2017 memories.

If you’re unable to get something added to his stocking please just consider doing a random act of kindness in his memory. This month is so hard for so many. If you can take a moment to think of another in need and have the ability to help if be honored to hear the story!

Wave of lightning 

Help break the silence and remember with us by lightning a candle at 7 pm for remembrance. Unfortunately our family is not alone in this unimaginable pain. No matter how small they mattered and are always a mystery of who they would’ve been. They matter because they were here, if only for a moment.


Today is a nationally recognized day of remembrance for pregnancy and infant loss of those lives gone far too soon. 

This month:

We remember the babies born sleeping. Those we’ve carried and never met. Those we’ve held but couldn’t take home. The ones who came home, but couldn’t stay. 

Help break the silence and remember with us by lightning a candle at 7 pm for remembrance. Unfortunately our family is not alone in this unimaginable pain. No matter how small they mattered and are always a mystery of who they would’ve been. They matter because they were here, if only for a moment.

My Tribe circle 


Yes it’s totally hipster to talk about friends as a tribe, but you know friendship doesn’t explain how much some of us have been through together. When you can find someone who knows your story your triggers it’s so nice to not explain it again. I think that’s part of the reason it’s harder to make friends as an adult. We’ve got more of a story and usually more mess that we’re self conscious if they will accept us for the mess that’s us! 

I know this past year would not have been the same without having my friends who know the loss of a child. Who can get when you text “I just am crying in the parking lot of Target because I walked by the baby clothes and just lost it!”

I think everyone knows it’s sad to lose a child. After you lose a child it becomes clear that: time does not heal all wounds. Time allowed me to go from crying each day all day to having some days I get without tears. I still have constant thoughts like; There should be 2 in my backseat. It doesn’t mean I’m at peace or forgotten him because I now cry less. My tribe who knows loss can understand. Some days are fine, some are like it’s happening all over again. 

Grief doesn’t go away. It becomes a piece of you. It can rock your whole being and sense of who you are. I remember hearing afterwards someone saw me and said “oh, just the same old Sara!” I thought, how in the world could I be seen as the same? It’s those members of my tribe who understand that I want to talk about him! I want to hear them say his name. I want to know when he comes to visit and sends them a rainbow or dragonfly! 

Those inner friends who have seen you at your most broken and not run away or told you to get over it, because your grief was an inconvenience to them. Thank you for my amazing tribe of mama Elephants who’ve got my back! We are the protectors of those most vulnerable! We are warrior women! 

Beauty of October Sunrise 

Each month we see pink for the warriors who have fought the battle of breast cancer. We see it in stores and even the football fields. This month few outside our community know that this month has had another dedication since October 25, 1988 when President Regan proclaimed this month Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month. A month of remembrance of loss of those tiniest babies we hold in our hearts. https://tinyurl.com/ya342hte

The calendar hit another first of the month. Another day further from you in my arms, but closer to meeting you again. I knew coming up that October would be hard. Last year October felt like a stab in the gut. Logan should be here and we should have pictures of him at the pumpkin patch. We should be deciding what cute Halloween themed onesies he’d be wearing. 

I still feel it this year, when deciding on costumes what would he like. He’d only be a little over 1 so I’m sure I could convince him to be a pumpkin like his sister was our first Halloween in our new home. 

October is hard for another reason, it’s infant loss awareness month. I know before this I only knew October for breast cancer and pink shirts everywhere. 

Last year I found out about a project ‘Capture your grief’. It was starting by a photographer who experienced infant loss and she wanted to use her art as therapy. The idea is not to have great photos that belong on walls, but capturing where your memories are that day and she gives you prompts. Last year I was too raw to think through each day. Some of these assignments are just downright hard. This year I’m giving myself grace to remember, and grace to let go of some hard memories. 

This morning for the beginning of October the assignment was sunrise. I was at first mad at how cloudy it was that there wasn’t looking like much of a sunrise. Then slowly the pink filled in under the blue. I couldn’t help thinking that this is just what this month needs! A little more blue to go with all the pink in October! 

It Is Well

The first chord rang and I knew it was coming, it built to the reframe and I had full blown snot and eyes swollen pink from the alligator tears flowing in the middle of church. The sky not the grave is our goal. It just becomes real when you go through something so deep and a loss that challenges what you thought were truths.

I used to be a person who loved a good RomCom cry, or at least a socially appropriate cry. Today was the first time in a long time, and it was just because of the words in a song. 

“When peace like a river, attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roar;

Whatever my lot, thou hath taught me to know, it is well with my soul.” 

The first chord rang and I knew it was coming, it built to the reframe and I had full blown snot and eyes swollen pink from the alligator tears flowing in the middle of church. The sky not the grave is our goal. It just becomes real when you go through something so deep and a loss that challenges what you thought were truths. 

The story of this song is of total tragedy. Horatio Spafford had moved his whole family to the U.S. and he lost his son at age 2 in the Chicago Fire of 1871. He also lost his business and his family was financially ruined. By 1873 the family decided to refute Europe, but at the last minute he decided to stay back and finish some work in Chicago before joining them. The boat the rest of his family was on collided with another ship and the only survivor was his wife. She sent him a telegram saying “Saved Alone, what shall I do.”

Shortly afterwards he sailed to Europe to meet her. The captain took him to the bow as they passed the water where his families ship sank and his children lay. Afterwards he felt so inspired he wrote ‘It is well.’

There is so much we can’t begin to comprehend. Although this is tragedy, I know God is there in the broken pieces. I think back to the peace in the room as Logan was baptized and prayed and sung to. There was no more of the Holy Spirit than what he felt in his short life. 

I will always and forever be  blubbering baby when I hear certain songs. So if you happen to be sitting next to me when they come on, please pray you have a tissue!