Sep 12, 2013

Iceberg, Straight Ahead!

**I wrote this the other night, basically a stream of consciousness, similar to a journal entry. It is just the tip of the iceberg.**

The other day my therapist asked if I talk about Calvin when I think about him. I don't. And she suggested that I start. The thing is, I don't even know what to say. That I miss "before" when my friend was sending me texts with name suggestions because I was having a hard time finding ones I really liked? That a week and a half after we lost Calvin, when the girls were throwing pennies in a fountain and making wishes I thought, I know my wish, and no amount of pennies will bring Calvin back? That I regret not giving him more kisses when I delivered him? That I miss the girls talking about him and giving my belly kisses and telling baby Calvin good-night? That even though I try not to make a big deal out of it, my heart breaks a little bit when Hope doesn't want to talk about him and when Paige brings him up? That we're meeting with the church next week to plan his memorial service and I don't even want to think about it? That come November, long after most everyone else has forgotten, I will be relieving it all, mourning an uncelebrated due date? That this holiday season I will be reeling from knowing (yet again) we should have a new baby in our family? That even though my brain tells me that he knows how much I love him, my heart hurts from fearing he doesn't? That every article I read, every sermon I hear, I am looking for how it pertains to me and my grief? That I desperately want him to come to me in a dream? That the other day I randomly told a woman that before we get a dog I want to have three kids and then I wanted to kick myself and cry? That when I see a family with three or more kids I think oh how lucky!? That this whole thing has me questioning my faith, not because I think, "How could God let this happen?" but because I know it wasn't God's doing but just a random fluke of biology? That even with those questions, I have to believe that he is in heaven because I can't stand the thought of anything else?

xoxo, christine


  1. You are a STRONG woman....I hear you and sadly I can relate. I cannot say any of those feelings will go away...I see twins and my heart breaks still...I think it will always be that way. It is not as painful but it hurts. To love so deeply gives us the deepest pain. You LOVED Calvin, he knew, he knows, and he will be loved forever. Those moments come at the strangest times and it is the oddest times that feelings is now part of your journey.

    I remember someone saying how could this happen to you??? I never thought that...I always thought why shouldn't this happen to me....I am not that special to not have something like this happen. 4 years later I feel like God knew I could handle this...all of this....and knew I would still have faith in him blindly. He held me on dark days when I was so angry at him that I thought I hated him but he knew...I trust in him, I love him, and without him I could not have done any of this. You will find your way, you will find your words, you will find your time.

    A year after Levi died I thought how could time have gone on...I grieved. The second year he was gone I thought, I have healed some. The third year I knew I was no longer the same women before delivering my boys on June 1, 2009....and I was ok with that....this version of me is not as funny, sometimes sad for no reason, reflects on life too much, feels great blessings in simple ways, loves the family and friends who helped me along the way and have accepted this new me :) I no longer take anything for granted. I let Levi live on in my memories and talk about him often. No matter how uncomfortable it is for others it is far more painful for me to not include him in my day to day life....he is a part of us. Just as Calvin is always going to be a part of your life. Do what is right for you :)

    I pray for you, your husband, and girls. Grief is a journey. It is not easy, it isn't hard, it is complicated, it is sometimes simple, but only you can know what is right for you and your family. Grief just is...the many phases of grief takes us to different places. May God hold all of you on your dark days, may he talk to you when you have questions, may he soften the pain in your heart from an empty crib....I pray in Jesus name...Amen

  2. I still talk about Bentlee. I see how uncomfortable it makes those who have not been through loss but I no longer care. I need to do it for me. Her 3rd birthday is approaching - even though Bruce has brought so much healing to our family, I am still changed.

    Today I was shopping for family photo clothes - and I saw this girl dress and almost lost it. I saw this adorable "Buy One, Get one free" set of twin onesies and was sad (Bruce was a twin). A pregnant friend was complaining pregnancy lasts too long and I was envious of her flawless, perfect, complication and pain free pregnancy and her naivety and innocence.

    Never again will I assume a pregnancy results in a child. I've had 9 die, I know bad happens often. Even my living children I am fearful for. My anxiety over what could go wrong is higher than is healthy.

    People had long forgotten my sadness and despair as I was still grieving - Thanksgiving and Christmas, her due date, the baby shower for a friend who shared a due date but her baby was alive, her first birthday, everything. Life felt cruel. Even losing weight and letting my milk dry up was a punishment to a grieving mother. And everyone had forgotten. "Why is she so sad/tired/bitchy?" Because my baby is dead. That's why.

    I never questioned why this would happen to me (sometimes I wondered why it happened at all though) but prayed God would use me and this loss for His glory. Someday He will. Until then I find comfort knowing Bentlee, and her lost siblings, are in Heaven. I find comfort in the children God has blessed me with.

    None of them are mine, they are all His and I have been entrusted with the great task of raising them up. I know I am a better parent for having had to bury a daughter. Praying for peace and comfort for you. I hope you can allow yourself to feel every emotion that comes without apology and that it becomes less difficult to simply breathe.

  3. My heart hurts for you. The next few months will be hard. I remember when my due date came around and how I longed to hold Ethan in my arms. It's important to talk about him and not care what people will think. I mentioned Ethan all the time when talking. I had a hard time when I was pregnant with Brooklyn and people asked if this was our first. Well no it's our second but we have no living children so it confuses people. Some days I just didn't want to go through the effort and watery eyes to explain no we lost a baby boy to triploidy but when I would just answer "yes" I would feel awful for not acknowledging him. Time heals some but there will always be a piece of your family that is missing from each celebration and milestone. Continue to celebrate Calvin. He knows how much you love him!


Any thoughts? I'd love to hear from you!