He Goes Before Me...

I wasn't sure how to post this, or even IF I should post it right away.

I lost the baby in the early hours of Thursday morning. There were a lot of tears, a lot of heartbreak, and I'm still in shock.

Not because it wasn't expected, but because the sudden loss of life always leaves me in shock.

I've since gone to work, had a long talk about heaven with Ella, and taken care of my husband, who's fallen ill with the flu, found a lost dog, located its owners, and began planting a garden.

There's not been a lot of time for grief.

Part of me isn't grieving. Part of me is looking forward to a heavenly family reunion with all my kids.

But part of me just misses that sweet babe.

Friday evening, I was out with a friend. I was watching the rain recede, and the golden sunset move in. I wondered, "Does God have a rainbow for me?" At that same moment, my friend said, "Look!"
...and there it was.

I'm not walking through uncharted territory, with this loss. He's already been here. He goes before me, and I follow because I trust Him.

*Deep Breath*

I'm going to do something that has been on my heart for a very long time.
Here goes.

I'm starting a second blog, dedicated to helping people through their losses.

After many, many tears and prayers, I'm finally ready to do so.

It will be a safe place to speak out about the loved ones we've lost.

It will be a place of remembrance and honor.

Most of all, it will be a safe place, where no one will feel judged in their grief.

Come with me to Speak Out and Remember .

Friends, pray for me.

This is years in the making, and this is where my heart is...helping others heal.

That Quiet Panic

Where do I start?

We've begun yet another school year, and Fall is on its way. It's easily my favorite season, and yet...there's that panic. And it's so familiar that I'm almost used to it, 10 years later, but it still hurts.

When I made the decision to homeschool Ella, it never crossed my mind that I would be dissecting every assignment years later, wondering how her older sister would handle it.

And this year, more than any other year, I'm feeling it. That wondering. The what-if's? It's this quiet panic, bubbling up inside me when I'm alone or planning a lesson or simply when I have too much time to think...which blessedly isn't that much.

One morning this week, before everyone else woke up, I sat on my porch swing and stared out at the mountains. The mountains, you guys. Ella has grown up in these mountains for the past 5 years and her big sister has never seen them. Ouch.

And now the leaves are starting to change and it's really freaking me out. I don't know why. I lost her in May, when everything was green and blooming and gorgeous. And every year, the Fall hits me hard. Maybe it's because everything is dying.

Maybe it's because things change so much in the fall. And yet, she still remains the same. That same tiny little human being...I don't know. Maybe it's because things tend to slow down a little bit in the evenings. Ella's in bed earlier, Gabe still works crazy night shifts and I'm alone to think. And over-think.

I miss her a lot. I miss her more than a lot in the Fall. Sometimes, on quiet night like this, I want to run away and go up North and cry at the cemetery. I want to write her name a hundred million times, but mostly, I think I'd just like to know what life would be like with two little girls: one ten, and one nine.

That's all.

A Word on Joel Osteen and a Lesson in Job

Anyone who even has an inkling of an idea of who I am knows how mad Joel Osteen's view on grief makes me. It's simply wrong and there is ZERO Biblical basis for it.

Job, a righteous man, lost everything. Absolutely everything. He went from being very very rich to very very poor. Every.single.one of his children was killed in a tragic accident. His beloved wife, in the throes of her grief, told him to "curse God and die."

And Job grieved.

 Job also had some "friends" who were did not support him, gave him some very bad doctrine (God wouldn't punish you unless you had done something wrong), and with friends like those, who needs enemies?

Eventually, God spoke to Job. Here are two things God did not do:

God did not tell Job "why". It probably would have been very easy to give Job the background of what happened, how Satan tried to destroy Job's faith. A lot of people ask "well, why DIDN'T God tell him?" Well, I don't know. Who's to say Job would have understood? I have no idea.

But I'll give you a bit of background on my story. When I lost my firstborn, I had no idea why. And I felt like I needed to know "why". What happened? What did I do? Was it because I lifted that box? Should I have carried all of those groceries up four flights of stairs? Should I have moved that stupid fan? And on and on and on the questions went. Exactly a year later, I gave birth to Ella at 35 weeks and I found out "why." I have an incompetent cervix, which causes me to go into labor early. It's a miracle Ella stayed in as long as she did. There. I had my "why". And it didn't satisfy me. When I turned back to Christ, I realized another facet of the "why". Because God used this terrible event in my life to bring me back to Him. He uses me on a daily basis to provide comfort to those who need it. And I still don't fully understand the "why", but I know that I am not alone. And that's more important than the "why."

You know what else God did not do?

HE NEVER TOLD JOB TO GET OVER IT. Job went on to have more kids, but THEY DID NOT REPLACE THE CHILDREN OF HIS THAT DIED. God never said, "O.k. Job, I'm here. Now stop grieving and get over it." He never said, "Now that you have more kids, you can quit your grieving." You can check the Bible. That's not there.

Isaiah 53:4 says "Surely, He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows."

He knows grief. He is near to the brokenhearted. He doesn't drop us on our butts and say "You can't have a full life if you don't move on!" He HELPS us to heal. And healing can take a lifetime.

"Indeed these are the mere edges of His ways, And how small a whisper we hear of Him! But the thunder of His power, who can understand?"

We don't understand God. Why not? Well, simply put, because He is God and we are not. His great plan is beyond our comprehension. I know that one day, everything will come to light and then we'll understand.

Until that day, God is always there. He never leaves us. He doesn't tell us to "quit our grieving", he helps us HEAL.

It's not a cage, it's an open gate.

This is going to be an odd blog to write, mostly because I don't quite know how to string the words together, but if I don't write it down, I won't be able to sleep at night.

I've had several well meaning wonderful people make comments to me about grieving and while they meant well, their words hurt. And, what with hormones and all, they hurt and they made me angry and made my fellow loss Mamas angry and it was an ugly situation.

So, I'm going to explain something.

I entered my first pregnancy totally innocent and ignorant. I smiled easily and never thought that anything bad could happen. I was in an awesome relationship and I thought we were invincible.

May 17, 2005 was frightening and horrific and terrible and awful and every bad thing you can think of. I won't go into detail, but if you've ever suffered a pregnancy loss, or a loss of any kind, you will know what I mean when I say it messes you up.

The aftermath of that day was probably worse. I never spoke about her. EVER. I stopped sleeping well. I picked fights with my (then) boyfriend (now my husband) over stupid things. I couldn't look at the kitchen floor for too long without having a panic attack. Pregnant women made me angry.

And then I got pregnant. Anyone who says that a subsequent child makes everything better is WRONG. so very very wrong. My pregnancy was frightening. I refused to buy baby clothes because I just knew I would lose this girl too. If not for my Dad and for Gabe, Ella would have come home in her hospital onesie.

And then Ella was born. My rainbow. I remember hyperventilating when she was born because she wouldn't cry, and thinking "I knew it. I knew this would happen." And then she cried. And it was amazing, and I wouldn't take a million dollars for that sound. And then I realized the date. May 17, 2006. And I had a moment where a cold wind blew through me and I thought, "My God, how unfair. My biggest loss and my greatest joy. On the same day."

And then I locked up my loss in a dark dark corner and never thought one bit about the girl I lost. Until one horrible night in late November, where I screamed some terrible things to my husband and slammed a door. And so we lived, with that unspoken shadow over our little family, until the following Christmas.

And then I was asked to decorate some ornaments with names. And I picked a name. A name for the sweet girl who never took a breath. Riley Grace. While my Mom didn't see it fit to hang that ornament on her tree, I hung it on mine.
And the story came out. I spoke her name. And it lifted the weight from my heart. Others came to me and asked me to make an ornament for their lost child.

Once I talked about her, I couldn't stop. I met people from all over the world, and even people in my town. I've cried with friends, I've cried with total strangers at the grocery. I've spoken the names of so many babies. So many little souls.

I hugged a stranger at the cemetery once. I heard the story of a stillborn boy named Miguel from his aunt. I met a girl on a bus once, who had lost her son at 6 months gestation. I held the hand of an 80 year old woman whose daughter would be 60. I opened my door at midnight for a friend going through her own terrible loss. I sat on the steps at 3 a.m. crying for the daughter of another friend.

I miss my daughter. Oh, my God. How I miss her. Yes, she is in heaven. No, she doesn't know pain. But, God made us with souls and the ability to feel. God made us with emotions.

Yes, I may go on sometimes about how much I miss her and how much it hurts. But it doesn't ALWAYS hurt.

Losing her broke my heart into a million pieces, but it brought me something so much bigger than me. It's put people in my life that have changed me for the better. It's made me into a better person. It's given me the courage to be there for people. To comfort.

Grief is not my cage. It's my open gate.

Savannah's Gift

For the last few days, I've had the overwhelming urge to introduce you all to Savannah Fayth.

Savannah Fayth is the fourth child, and third daughter of one of my best friends, Thera.

Savannah has beautiful blonde hair and sparkly eyes and her smile lights up a room.

Savannah would be 7.  Her birthday just passed. Balloons were released by Thera, her husband, and Savannah's siblings,

She drowned in a tragic accident.

But, you see...

Savannah leaves behind a legacy

Savannah's Gift.

Savannah's Gift provides stuffed animals for children who are transported by EMS.

Imagine if you were a child, injured, possibly being life-flighted to a hospital. You'd probably be scared. I've only been at the hospital a handful of times in my life, most of them as an adult, and I was scared. A stuffed animal is a huge source of comfort for an ill or injured child. Savannah's gift takes donations of stuffed animals and puts them into the hands of these precious kids.

Also, God forbid a child passes away. Sometimes, that stuffed animal is the only thing that parents have left.

How many of you have stuffed animals sitting around your house? They're in good condition, but just don't see much use? Savannah's gift would love your donation. They ask that the animals be small to medium, nothing large. Keep in mind, these stuffed animals are going in a helicopter or an ambulance. Also, no hard parts other than eyes. They are meant to be soft and comfortable. And, please, nothing that makes noise. An ambulance or a helicopter is hectic enough.

The best way to contact Savannah's Gift is through their Facebook page, here. Be sure to contact either Scott, or Thera Rhodes (Savannah's parents) and they will tell you where to send the stuffed animals.

I never met Savannah. Thera and I met on a website for Moms who have lost their babies. Her friendship means the world to me. Savannah means the world to me. This organization does so much good. Please, donate. Please, spread the word. Help grieving parents keep their daughter's Memory Alive.

Thank you. If even one donation will be made from reading this post, if even one child receives a stuffed animal and the comfort it provides...it will be worth it.

Grieving Mom Guilt/Surviving the first 10 years

On May 17, it will be ten years since my first daughter went to heaven.

I am outstanding at denial. In fact, I am so great at it that I managed to push everything about May 17, 2005 out of my head until about November 2006 when everything exploded in one horrific fight with Gabe.

When I got pregnant with Ella, and the fear abated enough for me to be excited about the pregnancy, I sent out an email to family and friends.

"Gabe and I are overjoyed to announce that we are expecting OUR FIRST CHILD, due in late June."

Ya'll know what? I never thought one single thing about that email until tonight, on my run. I haven't used that email address in years. I can't even get into it now because I don't remember the security question. But I remembered that stupid email, sometime between mile 2 and 3.

SECOND CHILD. SECOND PREGNANCY.

I know Riley Grace is in heaven. I know she doesn't care about a stupid email that I sent while I was in the throes of denial. I know Ella is quick to point out that she is my SECOND child because she honors her sis every single day. I know all of that.

But...guilt. I swear, things like that make me feel two inches tall. Once, when Ella was two or so, we were at the drugstore, buying pretty nail polish. A woman asked me, "Is she your only one?" and I stupidly replied, "yes."

NO. NO. NO.

Grief sucks. First it hurts. Then, it REALLY hurts. Then, it makes you feel guilty.
Somewhere along the way, it just is. And you accept it, without really accepting it...because it still hurts.

Also....

I will always be Riley's Mom. She will always be my FIRST child. I will always miss her, until the day I don't have to anymore. This doesn't mean I love Ella any less.

I will always be Ella's Mom. She will always be my SECOND child. I am so eternally grateful that God let her stay, despite my nightmare of a pregnancy, despite all of the negative things I was told by the doctors. She will always be my biggest miracle. This doesn't mean she will ever replace Riley.

People have said all sorts of "helpful" things to me over the past 10 years, such as "you should be grateful you have a living child." Yup, I am grateful. You have no idea. But, as I've said before, the fact that I have a "living child", also means that I have one who is not living. I've also been told to "get over it" (one of my favorites) and that "talking about it will scar your living kid for life." Guess what? There is no "getting over it" and Ella is one of the most amazing, caring, beautiful people I have ever met, and I have no doubt it is because she knows about her sister and knows how to comfort the grieving (and she has never told anybody to "get over it.")

Nearly ten years later, I still grieve. I will bet that ten years from now, I still will.

The Hyacinth: words from a grieving Mom

The winter after I lost my first daughter, I was already pregnant with  my second daughter.
It was a rough pregnancy, fraught with hospital visits and sleepless nights.

"Did she kick?"
"How long has it been since she moved?"

One day, while at work, I felt Ella flip over and then nothing.

For one hour, nothing.

Two hours, nothing.

Three hours.

Fearing the worst, I went in to be checked out.

She was fine. I was not. I was a wreck.

That evening, my Dad bought me a hyacinth. A pathetic little reject from the flower shop. I fell in love immediately.

"If you have a plant to take care of, you will have something to focus your nervous energy on. The stress cannot be good for the baby."

I took care of it. Watered it. Played calming music while I sat on the window seat and watched the sunrise, while silently praying for the tiny life inside me.

It bloomed purple. Amazing purple blossoms, even though the pot said "White hyacinth."

That February, I moved to Texas. I went by plane, so taking the hyacinth was out of the question. Dad took care of it for me, while I went to work at a flowershop, and eventually gave birth to a happy, healthy little girl. I returned that August, when Ella was 3 months old.

"It's the strangest thing, " Dad said when I inquired about the hyacinth, "It's STILL blooming."

When Gabe, Ella, and I moved to a neighboring town, I couldn't bear to take that hyacinth from Dad. He took care of it, chilled the bulb every winter, and every spring it would bloom. It never bloomed in the summer again, but it bloomed like clockwork in the spring until Ella turned about 5. It finally gave up the ghost and died.

Today, my husband bought me a purple hyacinth.

So many feelings. I didn't think a little purple flower could stir so many emotions.

Remembering.

I've spent the majority of today in the woods near our house. On my knees. Breathing in the scent of pine and fallen leaves.

Last night, there was a storm which blew down a large limb in the woods. While I worked on my remembrance project, I watched Ella play near the limb with our kittens. It was therapeutic.

A few years ago, a friend of mine printed Riley's name on a leaf. I've wanted to do something like that since then, but never had the opportunity. I took the opportunity today, and will be continuing this project as long as the weather allows.

It's just one name, one leaf...right?

Not when you look at the big picture.

There are so many of us. Missing our children.

So much of the year is spent grieving in silence...
Please, break that silence. If you are an angel mom, please speak your angel's name. Write your child's name. Anything to make them known.

October 15th Project

Since the Mother'sDay project, I've been thinking on what to do for October 15th.

Yes, I'm ahead of myself, but October 15th (Pregnancy, Infant and Child Loss Day) is the only day us grieving moms have where it's "ok" (by society's standards) for us to remember our children and speak their names.

Last year, I was told not-so-kindly by my husband's uncle that I needed to "get over" my daughter and "move on" with my life.

Needless to say, I blocked him on Facebook. He and I have never been close, but I drew the line there. We haven't spoken since.

I realized that this might be the only time that some moms have their child acknowledged...and so many of us don't have anything that bears their name.

For a very long time, I had nothing with Riley's name on it. It hurt more than most people can imagine.

So, this year....

Before October 15th, I want to reach as many people as I can.

I've always loved writing Riley's  name wherever I could, especially the little beachy strip in town.

I want to do this for as many Angel Moms as I can. I will send a digital file along with a mailed 4x6 print of your child's name. It's free. I wouldn't feel right taking money from anyone.

Please email me at joanna.unbehaun@yahoo.com

Thank you.
God Bless.

How Far We've Come

Four years ago, I had a major nervous breakdown in the weeks leading up to my daughters' birthdays. When I say breakdown, I mean BREAK-DOWN.
Breakdown of my faith.
Breakdown of my marriage that would take years to repair.
Breakdown of my sanity. Seriously, I think something was wrong with me that year.

Yesterday was my girls' birthday.

The days leading up to it were gentle, and peaceful.

The major part of yesterday was peaceful and joyful.

I watched my living daughter (8 years old now!) release 9 purple balloons into the cloudy sky, and I was able to smile as they floated away.

Yes, it's difficult to not have both of my daughters with me. It's difficult because there is a great void where Riley should be. I miss her. I've missed her for over 9 years now.

Oh, how I miss her.

But....

God never leaves me.
Every passing year, He holds my hand and carries me if need be.
I used to be in such a place of raw, bitter, ANGRY grief.
I still grieve. I wouldn't be human if I didn't.
But I know where she is.
I know parting isn't forever.
I get to watch her sister grow up.

I'm blessed. Blessed. Blessed.
How far He's brought me.

Last Mother'sDay Project Update: Thank You

Today, I wrote out the last card.
Today, my daughter decorated the last envelope.

And then I broke down in tears.

I am 12 days out from my girls' birthdays. And I am doing what I love.
Usually, this time of years is full of sleepless nights, panic attacks, and crying jags.

For the first time since Riley Grace died, I feel peaceful. I feel fulfilled. I feel...dare I say it...joyful.

I'm helping people. I'm giving them what I so, so desperately wanted after that awful day in 2005. Acknowledgement. Affirmation. These children, these babies, exist. These ladies are still moms. They are the embodiment of strength. To be able to get out of bed in the morning after such a loss is a feat sometimes.

If anyone wants a Father's Day card for an angel Dad, email me. joanna.unbehaun@yahoo.com
I am working toward something big for October 15th.
Anyone with ideas or suggestions, please let me know.

To everyone who supported this project, thank you. You mean more than you will ever know.
To everyone who is receiving a card, thank you for letting me do this for you.
To my husband, who stood by me and told me I was doing something worthwhile, thank you. You're my rock during times where I feel like I am spinning in circles, going nowhere, and everything is out of control.
To my daughter who gave of her time and herself, thank you. You are amazing. Wise beyond your seven years. I am so blessed to be your mother.
To my angel daughter...you made all of this possible. Thank you.
Lord...thank You. You are good all of the time. Thank You. Thank You. Thank You.

 

 

Mother'sDay Project Update

If you've been reading this blog, then you know life has been a rollercoaster lately.

The Mother'sDay card project is my sanity right now. Knowing that I can help other moms in their grief makes all the difference on a day when life is not being my friend.

I have some cards written out and ready to go.

Ella is being a huge help and hand decorating every envelope

If you are a grieving mom and interested in receiving a card for Mother's Day, please email me at joanna.unbehaun@yahoo.com.

More Randomness

On Wednesday, I posted about feeling "off."

My cat was in labor, and for "some reason", I felt freaked out, which was odd because I had delivered her last 3 litters with no problem. I said that I "couldn't handle the thought of stillborn kittens."

Sparrow's first kitten in that litter was stillborn. We named it Angel.

After a very hard labor, Sparrow gave birth to Blessing, and Faith. They were blessedly born ALIVE!

Ella and I buried Angel in Ella's garden.

After all of the tears had passed for that day, Ella and I decided that Angel is most definitely up in heaven, being taken care of by Riley and Ms. Lora (who absolutely loved cats). We also decided to celebrate that Sparrow made it through labor and that she now has two beautiful kittens to take care of!

 

 

The whole experience reminded me of how often we say "I cannot handle this."...I said I could not handle moving to North Carolina. I said I could not handle staying in North Carolina. I said I could not handle my marriage. I said I could not handle my Dad having cancer.

God says I can. He does not heap on me more than He is willing to bring me through.

Ugh

Not your typical post.

I'm not myself today. I don't feel well (thank you, seasonal allergies, you suck), I'm emotional (thank you hormones, you also suck!), my cat is in the early stages of labor and for some reason it's freaking me out.

I don't know why.

I've delivered her last 3 litters problem-free.

I don't think I can stand stillborn kittens.

The girls' birthdays are next month. Not ready for that.

And I feel fat.

Seriously, fat.

I need to do something about that.

I don't own a scale. I don't plan on buying one. A scale is what led to me having major body issues in high school and college.

I don't need that.

I'll be updating on Sparrow and weight loss soon.

For anyone that read that, I'm sorry for the randomness.

An Answer to Prayer

Most of you know about my first daughter. Most of you know about my status as a baby loss mom. In fact, many of you are walking this road with me.

About six years ago, around Christmas time, I was faced with the dilemma of not having an ornament with my firstborn's name on it. I was also faced with the dilemma of not naming my first daughter. My motto when she died was deny, deny, deny.

That Christmas, I had a one-year-old and a heavy heart. My mother asked me to make two personalized ornaments for that year (I had made ornaments for everyone in the years prior), as we had two new additions to the tree: Ella, my daughter and Benjamin, my sister's son. This led to a teary discussion about the "baby that I lost."  My mother not-so-politely told me that it didn't matter if the baby had a name (she didn't at that point), her ornament would have no place on her Christmas tree.

I sat in my office the next afternoon, FURIOUS. This brought to mind another incident, the Mother's Day three days before Ella was born. Someone said that "even though you're not a Mom yet (excuse me?????), we're going to consider you an 'honorary mom' today." (what?!)

Long story short, after much crying and talking to a beautiful mom on myspace, God whispered her name to me. Riley Grace. After looking up the name "Riley", I found "meaning unknown" and that's what she is. I didn't know her. She is my unknown.

I made that ornament. The week leading up to Christmas, my then-one year old climbed up onto a chair, took down Riley's ornament from the top branch of my (tiny) Christmas tree and said, "Whose is that?" I hedged, hemmed and hawed (because I had NEVER EVER spoken to her about her sister, never even taken her to her spot in the cemetery) when Ella surprised me by saying, "That's my sister!"

God is truly amazing!

After that ornament, I reached out to other grieving moms. And then...I felt like I had a purpose. Children's names were being written. They were being spoken. Remembered. I felt like I had come home.

Flash forward six years, a handful of moves, a walk back to Christ...

Many, many prayers of "God, what do I do?" "God, how can I help?"

...and the terrible news that someone in the baby-loss community, OUR community would take money from grieving mothers, prey on their emotions...it was too much to take in.

This afternoon, I took myself out for coffee. Realized that it is almost April. Realized that Mother's Day is coming. Realized that too many of us will not be recognized as Mothers. I will be, because I was blessed with a living child. But what about those who don't have living children? What about those going through life not being acknowledged simply because they don't fit society's idea of a "Mom"?

I want all of those who have lost a baby to feel acknowledged. I want all of those walking this road to feel supported, and loved.

My daughter, Ella said she wants to help.

So...

I am not asking you for money.
I am not asking you for donations.
I am simply asking you to let me send you a Mother's Day card.

Please, comment your thoughts and if you would like to be included in this Mother's Day card project, please email me at joanna.unbehaun@yahoo.com

I don't know how many people I am going to reach. If this makes a difference to ONE person, it was worth it. If this becomes bigger, with more opportunity to help grieving parents, then God gets all of the glory.

The only thing I know is that when Riley died, I felt alone. I don't ever want anyone to feel that way.

After years of praying, and tears, and wondering how I could help....

today, God answered my prayer.

Random Gardening Post...

After Riley died, and I was no longer the pregnant-for-the-first time Mom, I spent a lot of time at cemeteries, in the baby section.

Not her cemetery. I honestly didn't go there until Ella was almost a year old.

Somewhere in my travels, I came across a gravestone with this quote from Dorothy Frances Gurney, only to discover the same quote in Riley's cemetery.

"The kiss of the sun for pardon,
the song of the birds for mirth--
one is nearer God's heart in a garden
than anywhere else on earth."

I love flowers. I love plants. I love watching them grow. Ella does too, which makes sense as the final months of my pregnancy with her were spent working in a Texas flower shop.

The last few weeks have been hard. From dealing with a sick cat, to REALLY feeling the distance between my Dad and me (in miles, not in family closeness) to finding out someone stole money from my family to getting sick (still recovering!), I've had enough.

I decided to do some planting and I think it really did my soul good.

I made sure to plant plenty of basil, after most of my harvest last year got eaten by cats. True story. There were at least ten of them on the property we rented last year. This year, we are a one-cat household and so my basil SHOULD be safe.

More gardening posts to come!!!