My Heart on Halloween

Jenna, remembering you like I did has helped me. I was at your cousin's birthday party today surrounded by loving family and friends, elated at my new blessing on the way. But my heart still misses you. I kept trying to imagine what it should be like having an almost six month old in my arms. Would you have liked the caramel apples? The candy? The cake? The riot that your cousins are(whom I adore!)? I think you enjoyed it all from your little corner in my world. I have to believe you see it all. Just know I missed you. The pain was different today. It was less aggressive and more sobering than anything. Maybe I am accepting this fate of separation. Or maybe I really did just get a glimpse of you and how refreshing it is to feel you close to me again.

Fleeting Memories

I was told right after you died, to write my memories down. The small ones, the ones I cherished because they happened with you. The ones I thought surely I'd never forget. I am so glad I did.

There are times like today when you feel not just dead, but far far away. So far away that your life is like a dream. But then I see that picture in the kitchen and I know you happened. I am so sorry. I hate that my mind does this. I can't even pinpoint what drags me into this abyss where you just seem so far from me. Maybe it has to do with time, and how six months will be here too soon.

Regardless, I want to share a memory or two that I have written down. It's been awhile since I let myself crack these open. They hurt, Jenna. They hurt. But I want to be close to you again.

Right after you died, no sooner would my eyes start to well up with tears that I would hear your soft sweet spirit assuring me "I'm okay, Mommy."

But now that's gone. I know you're okay, but I miss that feeling of how I just knew you were right there next to me as Mommy was balling her eyes out in the car at the red light.

I remember...

Being afraid the first time I laid eyes on you in the NICU. I asked the nurse if it was okay to touch you and she let me. I was so afraid of hurting you. She did tell me not to caress you since your nervous system had not fully developed and caressing would more than likely agitate you. I could not believe how small you were! But also pretty long for such a small baby. It was so surreal to behold the very creature that only hours prior had been kicking me furiously with that stupid monitor strapping you down! Fearfully and wonderfully made - what a truth! Your feet were long and your fingers were long too, just like mine. I told everybody that they would not go to waste and would definitely be learning the piano. =) I could not wait. I remember observing you for hours on end and studying your fingernails and toenails. How perfect you were.

You never let in on how much pain you were really in. I still can't move past that point of how much pain I am no doubt responsible for. But I was trying to give you every chance to live. The doctors never let us believe that it was hopeless until the end. We had to believe in those small chances, every last one of them - if it meant fighting to keep you with us. Thank you for being such a fighter, Jenna.

Sorry so LAte

Thank you to...
Marie at My Expected End and Bree at My Baby Butterfly Ella for passing on the Over the Top Award and Karen at Busy Hands for the Friendship Award.

I am sorry for posting so late about this. My mind has been clogged with so many emotions and it hardly seemed fitting to write about the awards when my heart was just so down. But I guess in a way it's a nice distraction.

So for the Over the Top Award here goes...



Tag 6 other bloggers and let them know that you think they are 'Over the Top'!
1. Where is your cell phone? next to me on the desk
2.Your hair? Brown
3. Your mother? Sick =(
4. Your father? Awesome
5. Your favorite food? Italian, sweets, sour... this changes every minute
6. Your dream last night? The next Chinese Emperor??? (Weird I know)
7. Your favorite drink? Water
8. Your dream/goal? Be a godly mother
9. What room are you in? classroom
10. Your hobby? Blogging/writing
11. Your fear? Death of someone close to me
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Still married to Prince Charming
13. Where were you last night? home
14. Something that you aren’t? Social
15. Muffins? Cranberry-orange
16. Wish list item? Paul Mitchell hair straightener
17. Where did you grow up? Houston
18. Last thing you did? drive to school
19. What are you wearing? Dress
20. Your TV? off
21. Your pets? fabulous
22. Friends? awesome (KATIE!)
23. Your life? Blessed
24. Your mood? Creative
25. Missing someone? YES
26. Vehicle? Mazda
27. Something you’re not wearing? Hat
28. Your favorite store? Hobby Lobby
29. Your favorite color? Fuschia
30. When was the last time you laughed? Last night
31. Last time you cried? Today
32. Your best friend? Hubby
33. One place that I go to over and over? Grave
34. One person who emails me regularly? awesome sister-in-law
35. Favorite place to eat? Le Madeleine

And for the Friendship Award, thank you a million, Karen. It is so sweet.

The rules are: "This award is bestowed on to blogs that are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. Deliver this award to six bloggers who must choose six more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award."

 I really cannot pick just six for either award. I guess I could, but after being a part of this babylost community, every blog I have been following has helped me in one way or another. Some mamas find healing in the Scriptures, friends, family, activities, writing their hearts out or sharing their stories. All of these, even in the midst of their heartbreak has contributed to some healing in my heart. This road would be incredibly lonely without my bloggy buddies. God is so good to provide such wonderful hearts to help me along the way. Losing Jenna was tragic, but it is beautiful the bond that has been formed through such a loss. So to all the blogs that I follow, thank you thank you. From the bottom of my heart.

Please look to the bottom left of my blog to see all the SMARVELOUS blogs I have been so blessed by.

Love to the sky...

Wednesdays for Wyatt - Week Two!!

Here we go! Our second Wednesday for Wyatt! It’s quite simple to participate. All you have to do is copy and paste this post on your blog, and come back here to link up with MckLinky! Once you do that, your all set to win a great giveaway. Kristi, on of the dear women who follow my family's story has generously donated some handmade buckeye's jewelry. Thank you Kristi!

Over the last week we have gotten 123 new signatures! Over 100 of those we got last Wednesday alone. And we had 34 wonderful bloggers link up... I can't wait to see how much Wednesdays for Wyatt will grow this week!

For those of you who are not familiar with my family and what we are trying to achieve, here’s a brief run down...

Our son Wyatt was diagnosed with a fatal condition at our 18 week ultrasound, but chose to carry him to term. We waited to meet our son with love, all the time praying we would get to see him alive.

On June 1, 2009, Wyatt made his way into the world by c-section. To our amazement he had a faint heartbeat and was breathing! He died two minutes later, but I’ve clung to the two minutes my son and I breathed the same air since his passing.

Upon calling to get a copy of Wyatt’s birth certificate, I found out he was listed as a stillborn. You would assume it was a mistake (like I did), but there was no mistake. According to the definition of live birth in Tennessee my son was not “alive enough” to be deemed a live born baby. His two minutes of life has gone unrecognized by my state, and I intend to change this piece of legislation so I can solidify the validity of my son’s short life.

Wednesdays for Wyatt was created to help spread awareness for a law that needs to be changed, as well as to generate more traffic to my petition. So if you’re reading this, thanks for taking the time to help our family!

This contest will be open today only. I will close MckLinky down sometime before midnight, so make sure you get linked up ASAP to make sure you are entered to win this giveaway! Thanks for helping everyone, and good luck.

Heart of God

Thank you to everyone for your support with my last post. It is bittersweet yet comforting to know I am not the only one angry at God, people, the world, fate, death...

I started reading The Shack. I have to say that it has been a Godsend. It has helped me to confront the emotions that up until recently I had been shrinking from. I am angry. I am wondering why. I still don't ever want to get it. But, if I might encourage anyone, I urge you to read this book that brings you to the very heart of God in the midst of losing and grieving a child.

I told my husband a few months ago that the only thing worse than what we experienced with Jenna is having your child kidnapped, never to see them again. He agreed. This book embraces that heart-wrenching situation, showing just how much God gets our anger. So many people commented on the last post how God can take our anger, which I totally agree. If He created us with the natural instinct to love our babies, how can we not be angry when this tragedy strikes and we are forced to live and breathe without them?!That is asking for something unnatural.

While I don't wish to live the rest of my days caught up in this frustration and anger, I am not going to run from it. I know that God intended for me to love Jenna, and losing her has created a gaping hole that hurts  everyday. I get to love her memory, but I will never get to show her how much I love her down here. And there lies the root of the heartache. My loss of the chance to love her.

Unmasked

Before I write this post that weighs so heavily on my heart, I feel like a disclaimer or some type of warning is necessary. First and foremost, if you find yourself offended at its contents, you must know I started this blog for only a couple of reasons...

1. To be honest with myself and God about this grief as a means to find some kind of healing

2. To let other babylost mamas know they are not alone in this grief of losing a child by sharing my Jenna Belle

So now for my heart.

There were seven to eight of us expecting babies back-to-back in my world IRL. And God looked down as we were all planning or not planning these families and knew one would be required in Heaven far sooner than his/her time. That's how I look at it anyway.

He picked Jenna. My Jenna. I can't even imagine wishing this pain on anyone else. That's not what this is about. But I have asked God probably a thousand times, why me? That question is so childish and its significance is fleeting but the reality is that I feel like I have been picked on. Like I have been reprimanded for wanting a family which I thought would come so easily.

Out of the seven or eight of us, a couple of women were expecting rainbow babies. That was especially sweet. A few gracefully accepted the awkwardness after Jenna died and let me know that they still cared within weeks. A few others which had never buried a baby, kept their distance for safety I am sure, and meant no harm. But it complicated my world. Their sudden distance made me feel like I was a plague and I wanted to scream IT CAN HAPPEN TO ANYONE...

But I didn't. So I scream it here. IT CAN.

This grief is exhausting to say the least and it hardly suits a Christian I think at most times. Of course, my idea of the ideal Christian hardly battles anger, frustration, envy and strife, right? Well right or wrong that is what I am feeling. I have battled feelings that I wish I never knew. As a result, I have minimized my concerns to my heart with God, my husband and close family and a handful of true friends. I don't want to destroy any of these relationships because of my grief.

A lot of times I feel like anger toward God is sinful and tell myself to stop being angry. That hardly works. So I just started telling Him how angry I was. How much I hate that He took my Jenna and how it has complicated my world. I feel like when I started to do this, it was as if He was really listening. I can't even describe it. I really believe He heard that prayer. He wanted honesty, not a facade of "okayness". I have had a lot more peace accompany my sorrow since I told God how honestly angry I have become. I know He is working on me and helping me sort through these feelings of anger and the root of bitterness.

I am to the point where I need help so bad, I could care less what the world concludes about me. I am desperate. I need God's help and am very aware that I have been closer to Him than I am right now. I am very aware that I have probably contributed to the complicated relationships with other expectant mothers in my world. I am very aware that this grief has probably taken me to the lowest place yet - hell on earth. I am very aware that I am not the same person I was a year ago. Or even a few months ago. That girl had hope and a God that could only perform miracles. I am no longer than person. My God can heal but He doesn't always heal. This is my reality.

I cannot keep this bottled up for long and I can never predict where this grief will take me next. It is a roller coaster that fares into the darkest pit of human grief and sorrow.

"Thou, which hast shown me great and sore troubles, shalt quicken me again, and shalt bring me up again from the depths of the earth." 

-Psalms 71:20

Wednesdays for Wyatt

It’s official... Today is our very first post for Wednesdays for Wyatt! Thank you for coming over and participating.

It’s quite simple to participate. All you have to do is copy and paste this post on your blog, and come back here to link up with MckLinky! Once you do that, your all set to win this first ever Wednesday’s for Wyatt giveaway. Let make this a huge success, shall we?

Now, back to the good stuff!

For those of you who are not familiar with my family and what we are trying to achieve, here’s a brief run down...

Our son Wyatt was diagnosed with a fatal condition at our 18 week ultrasound, but chose to carry him to term. We waited to meet our son with love, all the time praying we would get to see him alive.

On June 1, 2009, Wyatt made his way into the world by c-section. To our amazement he had a faint heartbeat and was breathing! He died two minutes later, but I’ve clung to the two minutes my son and I breathed the same air since his passing.

Upon calling to get a copy of Wyatt’s birth certificate, I found out he was listed as a stillborn. You would assume it was a mistake (like I did), but there was no mistake. According to the definition of live birth in Tennessee my son was not “alive enough” to be deemed a live born baby. His two minutes of life has gone unrecognized by my state, and I intend to change this piece of legislation so I can solidify the validity of my son’s short life.

Wednesdays for Wyatt was created to help spread awareness for a law that needs to be changed, as well as to generate more traffic to my petition. So if you’re reading this, thanks for taking the time to help our family!

We are currently up to 1,253 signatures. Hurray! We’ve made it over my initial goal of 1,000 signatures, and now I’m dreaming big! You think you can help me get 5,000 signatures by Thanksgiving? I bet you could, and I hope this Wednesdays for Wyatt helps out tremendously. Post this to your blogs, facebook, myspace... wherever you can think of. I can’t wait to see how many more signatures we receive from this. I have a great feeling!

The contest will only be open today. You have until 11:59 pm to post this on your blog and come back here to link up with MckLinky in order to qualify for this Wednesdays for Wyatt giveaway. Good luck everybody and thanks for participating.

Those Pictures

I wasn't ready again. Daddy needed the SD card so I copied and pasted those pictures on it in a safe place. But it was hard. I hadn't seen those pictures since you died. Actually I hadn't seen you like that since you died. I had never seen those pictures. I knew they existed, but I have not been able to bring myself to look at them. To remember you like that. It is so hard.

Five months today.

There is not a lot to say, except that my heart hurts so bad. I never imagined this would ever happen to me. Growing up I did not know babies could die - that's how ridiculously naive I was. Ridiculously carefree...

I want to be that little girl again that loves children, longs for babies, and envisions raising them; not wondering if I will ever get to bring a baby home from the hospital.

I have a hard time convincing myself that I am not angry. Secret's out, I still am. I just miss you... Those pictures, they brought it all back. I wasn't ready. But once I got a glance I couldn't not look. You are beautiful, Jenna. Even in death.

I asked Daddy if it was wrong that I couldn't look at them. He said no. He understands. He really couldn't look for long either.

I remember getting to hold you for the first time, only for it to be the last time too. I felt like time was swallowing me up as the hour was approaching to switch you to that other breathing machine so I could hold you. I wanted to hold you, but I didn't want to let you go.

How does one prepare to say goodbye when you know its too soon? How did I not die of a broken heart that day or these past five months?? FIVE MONTHS! It hardly seems like that long ago.

I know that the God that gave you to me has also been faithful to not let my broken heart kill me. It broke a little extra today.

I wonder if there will ever be a time when I can look at these pictures and not cry because the missing hurts too much? Does that day really exist? I hear it does. I hear that one day I will be in a "healthier" place to confront those hard memories. That's what I hear. That is what I look forward to. I look forward to a place where your memory doesn't break me.

Trying to Smile

I remembered Jenna yesterday, but it's no different than today. Today when my heart has been pulled out of my chest and stomped on.

You ask, what happened?

Nothing new. Just life and the reality of babies dying.

It never gets old and it always hurts. I won't ever view pregnancy the same or newborns or the maternity ward or hospitals for that matter. They are building a fancy new hospital seven minutes from where we live right now and the first thought that popped in my head after she died was, I wonder how many babies will die there...

Who have I become???

If you think me cruel or heartless, you caught me on the wrong day. I hope I don't come off that way. But I just need to get this out. This grief is not just tears and cherished memories. For me there is a new way of thinking. And this new way of thinking is usually triggered by raw, agonizing emotions. It's sad. My heart is longing to hold her again. My mind cannot fathom what good could possibly justify her suffering and death. My soul is broken. And what is most alarming is that this is not going to change... this is who I'll forever be.

Permanent scars. Permanent reasons to cry my eyeballs out. Permanent loss. Permanent. I hate that word right now.

One day I want to wake up in a better place and be able to look up into the sky, wonder about her new home and not feel like fate is mocking me. I get to wondering about Heaven and feeling desperate at how little I know about it. I know that if God were to pull back the screen of Heaven and give me a glance that I'd never want to bring her back into this world, and it would calm my restless heart that misses her beyond words. I would see how happy she is. I would understand with my eyes how perfect everything is up there. But since it is faith that has to silence all these emotions, it is an ongoing battle.

This is me and my finite mind at work.

While I miss her terribly, I have to remind myself how much I did enjoy her while she was with us. She fought for her life for 13 days and I got to be by her side. Those 13 days were filled with the most nauseating roller coaster of ups and downs fueled by the ever-changing doctor reports, unstable saturation levels, and pleading for a miracle from Heaven. But they were also filled with a beautiful love that I'd never experienced before. She brought so many people so much closer together. Her life. Her short little life. It never ceases to amaze me how much changed through her life and death. I look back now and remember that I never let myself think she might not make it. I had to believe in her life for her sake. I don't remember being sad over her condition then. I remember being overjoyed at being a mother. Her mother.

This is my attempt to remember my daughter's life. I am trying to smile, on the inside. My joy has been left behind. I think I actually left it in the NICU when she died. I am trying to get it back.

And I get so wrapped up in my loss that I forget what I gained. I gained motherhood. I gained a beautiful baby girl that knows me, even now, as her mother. I gained a broken heart that will forever break for every mother who has ever faced the tragedy of saying goodbye to her child. I gained a firsthand look at what God sacrificed for me when He watched His Son die for me on the cross. I have gained... because of Jenna.

I can name all the whimsical, charming things that I would have rather gained in the little girl she could have been. But I have to stop and realize I have gained, in spite of her death, I have still gained so much.

Love You, Miss You

Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Day

October 15th

Your candle is burning in the other room

I didn't want to ever remember you this way.

It is morbid and lonely and the flame is all I have today

With thousands, no millions of other babylost mommies

I passed this day last year

And didn't blink an eye.

I was unaware that you and me would

identify with its significance the way we do now.

I wonder...

How many remembrance days have I been blindly living through

Naive and unaware

That one day I will identify with them too?

It's something I have said before,

but its strange how life changes.

Today I will remember you.

No different than the rest of the days

You are always on mommy's mind.

I think people sometimes wonder

What in the world is wrong with me -

Well, if they'd had to give up your sweet face

And bury your life

Maybe... they'd get me.

But today is not about anyone but you.

Today I will take you flowers

And miss you all over again

The tears will fall

And the memories will hurt me but it's grief that I am learning to live in.

I don't mind the tears the way I used to

I don't stop the memories because they bring me close to you.

I don't pretend I am ok; it's a true waste on energy.

I am embracing the pain because it is the result of loving you deeply.

I got to wondering in this crazy head of mine

How many angel friends do you have?

And is today the day you all come down and watch your candles burn?

Are you a little closer because you know it will be hard?

I like to think you are.

And that you are surrounded by love

And thousands of beautiful angel babies...

Just like you.

Love you, miss you, my precious Jenna Belle

Wednesdays for Wyatt

Danielle, from Letting Go and Letting God gave birth to her son recently and has been denied a birth certificate. He LIVED and BREATHED for two whole minutes, but because of some changes that have basically redefined life in the state of Tennessee, Wyatt Nathaniel has been classified as a stillborn. Please click the button to amend this law to reach Danielle's goal of 1000 signatures on this petition! Thank you if you already have signed, and thank you for reading!

P.S. I read somewhere where it said it wouldn't hurt to sign it if you are not living in Tennessee - so if you are out of state, just sign it anyway... =)

Please pass this along to anyone you think might be moved to help out in this cause

I Found a Rainbow

I don't know how ready I really am about all this but about a week ago we found out we are expecting Jenna's little sibling. I am incredibly happy, overwhelmed at the endless possibilities, and scared to the Nth degree. I would like to share the good news, but will not be updating about the pregnancy on this blog. I have dedicated a whole new blog to my rainbow baby called "Letters to my Rainbow Baby".

www.ifoundarainbow.blogspot.com

Feel free to stop by, but I understand if you cannot read about pregnancy right now - completely. I will, of course, continue to write on Handprints from Heaven as I am still grieving my Jenna terribly. My pregnancy with this baby has only increased my hope in God, but it has not minimized the grief over losing Jenna. And I wouldn't have it any other way. It is my hope that someone can draw strength from what God has allowed in my life with Jenna and now the hope of our newest family member joining us. I am hoping solely on the mercy of God for this baby to have healthy lungs, a beautifully healthy heart and so much more.

The LORD taketh pleasure in them that fear him, in those that hope in his mercy. 

-Psalms 147:11

What If...

Saturday, our last minute getaway (which we rarely do) to the Kemah Boardwalk turned out to be a emotional event for me. I didn't let my emotions control my feelings to the point where it would ruin our time there, but the crowd of people and the overwhelming amount of activity was almost too much. I have grown comfortable with a quiet, low-key daily routine. Rarely going out other than church and work and of course errands. (I sound so boring now!)

I cannot get over how much Jenna affects my everyday life. I literally began to tear up as we approached the rides and games. I guess in a way I felt torn between guilt of having a good time (or wanting to) and accepting that I could not bring my baby along... Or would we have even gone to Kemah if she had been here??? Endless questions, pretty much worthless. But they clog my brain nonetheless.

The frustration and anger of losing her has temporarily left me with a peace I cannot understand. I have embraced it as I know this phase will at any minute morph into one of the horrible stages of grief that I am all too familiar with. Something my husband told me the other day really helped me. I got to talking to him about missing her and all the things I feel like she missed out on and we missed out on.

He is so simple, I just love it sometimes. He said that maybe she wasn't meant to have those things. Now, in the past that would have brought a look of disgust as if to say Are you serious?! But I think this time it was coupled with my mind being a *little* more stable than before. It still hurts that I missed out on so much. And I will never be able to understand it all. I still HATE that she died. But I know that God has still been good. If she wasn't meant to live in this world for long, I like to think that she was not of this world. She was heavenly, unmarked by the sin of this world. I love that I can think of her as an angel. I don't know these things for sure, but it can't hurt to wonder...

What if?...

A Secret

I don't know about you...

but I struggle with the thought that God has a plan. I struggle with telling myself that God knows best. I struggle with the fact that God could have saved Jenna and He didn't. My faith has been dismantled, torn apart, scrupulously analyzed, turned upside down, chiseled, wounded, interrogated, and left desolate to tell whether or not it would survive the past five months.

My faith has changed. 

My faith in the God who could have saved her has come to find out something about Him I never knew. It's one of those secrets of God that can only be manifested in the deepest, darkest pits of absolute pain. To be honest, it's one of those secrets I wish I knew nothing about. But since grief has redefined my life, it is a secret I have come to cherish.

I have heard all my life that Jesus Christ died for my sins and how He bore my sins on the cross so that I could have a way to go to Heaven when I died. One day, I accepted Him as my Savior, believing that He did indeed die and carried my sins to that cross and paid the debt I could never pay.

What I didn't know was that on that cross, he also bore my griefs. The Bible says He is "a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief". Acquainted with grief? I have read those words before, but this time those words just flew off the page because that's me! I know grief more than I ever wanted to know it or be acquainted with it. It is deeper and far more hopeless than I ever could have imagined. Grieving a child is what we often say to be the harshest form of grief. I would have to agree. I didn't just bury my baby; I buried a toddler who would never take her first bite, lose a tooth, need a Barbie band-aid or take her first steps. I buried a girl who would never paint her fingernails or wear her Sunday best on Easter to church, I buried a young lady who would never go off to college or fall in love and get married. I buried a woman who would never have children or grandchildren. I buried everything she could have been. I buried my heart and love in the purest form. 

But Christ... He bore my griefs. It comforts me to read that He didn't just heal the sick and raise the dead. He knows my griefs. He knows. He is not just about the happy endings, He is familiar with the sad ones too. He acquainted Himself with this grief so that He could comfort my broken heart one day.

In that same verse, the Bible says that He also "carried our sorrows". The sorrow of those last moments of her life flashing through my head. The sorrow of knowing I will never get to use her beautiful name. The sorrow of knowing that life itself fled my baby girl's body. The sorrow of knowing the doctors did all they could to save her life. The sorrow of knowing that she is gone. The sorrow of the loss that empty arms can never satisfy. The sorrow of the memory of the pain her tiny body went through. The sorrow of the reality of her death at the grave. He carried all these sorrows with Him. 

A lot of people IRL will tell me they are sorry for what happened, and that is really all they can say. Let me just say that I am grateful for their sincere sympathy and understand their loss of words. But Christ actually carried my sorrow. He didn't just tell me He was sorry it happened, He carried this pain and sorrow because He knew one day I would need someone who feels the exact pain that I feel. So when I take my broken heart to Him, He knows all about it. 

And what's even more baffling to me is that He bore all my griefs and carried my sorrows way before they even happened. To think that He carried mine plus the entire world's grief and sorrow just helps me.

When someone shared these verses with me, it was like a light bulb turned on. These are familiar verses but they bring new light in this dark place of grief. 

"He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted."

Isaiah 53:3, 4

You Kept All My Tears

The day Jenna died and I walked away from the hospital with empty arms

I cried so many tears my face hurt and my soul felt dead

Life was changed

Death was real

And I wondered if

anybody knew about my tears.

The day of the funeral came

And I wondered why I had to go through all this,

I cried on the way there and all through the service

I cried and we couldn't even drive ourselves to the gravesite

I began convincing myself

that nobody knew about my tears.

Slowly the world began to shift and my ground became unstable

Unable to keep pace with the rest of the world

I fell behind

And I was convinced

that nobody knows about my tears.

I hide behind closed doors and rush out of crowds

Tears build up

Behind sore eyes and a shattered spirit

Forced into this secret society of broken hearts

And I am convinced

that nobody knows about my tears.

I grieve my loss of motherhood

The need to hold her makes me sore

The feeling that I have been robbed

Every time a mother holds her living baby closely

I am convinced

that nobody knows about my tears.

Driving home my mind starts to wander

What she would have been like?

How she should be in the backseat

Snuggled safely in that 4-door sedan I picked over a year ago because we wanted her...

I am convinced

that nobody knows about my tears.

The scar that my body wears replays that night she was born

How it happened, and why

The scar that means she happened

Too quickly...

I am convinced

that nobody knows about my tears.

I sit alone most days

Avoiding the inevitable and meaningless conversations

That I just cannot care about

I feel I am losing myself in this grief

I am convinced

that nobody knows about my tears.

But someday when I die, Lord,

You tell me that you knew

You didn't let my tears dry up on the ground,

You kept them close to you.

In that bottle where our tears our stored

To show us just how much you cared

You saw me cry every time I convinced myself

that nobody knew...

Thou tellest my wanderings: put thou my tears into thy bottle: are they not in thy book?  

Psalms 56:8