2011

I can honestly say that 2011 was the hardest year of my life. This time last year I was still oblivious to the storm that was about to hit our family. I still thought I was invincible. I thought that life was going as I had planned. I had it all and it was all under control.

Then came the storm. It hit me so hard that sometimes I don't know how I survived. My worst fear, the thing that gave me nightmares, the one thing I thought I would never be able to handle came true. I learned that my precious baby had a life-threatening heart condition and then I had to stand by and watch helplessly as he died.

There were so many days this year that I literally wanted to die too. Every day was painful and it was a struggle not to give in to despair. I didn't think that life held any promise any more. The future seemed like a big black hole and I didn't want to face it. I didn't think I could face it. Matthew's death left an ache in my heart that seemed to crush any other joy that tried to come in.

I still hate what happened. I would do anything to have Matthew here with us. But I have had time to heal and to reflect. Mostly, I've had time to scream and yell and plead and cry out to God and I've learned to trust His answers. I've wrestled with whether or not I believe that he loves me and that he is good and I've decided it's true. In the moments when I thought I would go crazy with grief, God has reminded me of heaven and that reminder has been enough to calm my heart and give me hope. Every time I think that I can't handle another moment without my baby boy, I remember that God has promised me a perfect eternity with Matthew, one that will make all my tears be forgotten.

I hope I never have another year like this one. I hope none of you ever have a year like this either. But if we do, I know that no matter what, God really is faithful and that he is enough for every circumstance.

Happy New Year friends!

Merry Christmas!

Joy to the world, the Lord is come! I am so thankful that Jesus came to this earth willing to die for us so that sin and death would no longer have power over us. Without the gift of this heavenly baby, I would be separated forever from my baby. Yes, my heart is missing Matthew, but because of Christ, I can say that it is well with my soul this season. Merry Christmas friends!

This stinks

Today we were up in Columbia for a family Christmas party and we passed the cemetery on our way there and back. Both times I was surprised by the emotion and tears that just sprung to my eyes. We didn't stop to go see Matthew's grave and for some reason that made me feel guilty, like I was being a bad mother by not stopping to see my child. It's weird, I know, but it's also really hard not to feel like that. On one hand I know that he's not really there, that he's in heaven, but on the other hand, it's the only physical place I have to tie him to. It's his "final resting place," the last home of his physical body. I'm always torn by the two realities, which is probably why I cried as we passed by.

I guess it's what we all struggle with. We have the hope of heaven and a joyful eternity, but in the meantime we're stuck on this earth where life really stinks sometimes.

Almost halfway...

This is what I look like so far... almost halfway there! (Don't ask me why we have those strange shadows above our heads.) My cousin Sarah Parker always makes me take these belly pics with her :) She's crazy! 

And it's a....

BOY!!!

Everything looks good. Praise the Lord. We are so excited!

Guesses???

Thursday is the big day. The day when we find out what baby #3 is! I have no idea what to expect. I'm sick like I was with Claire, but not gaining weight like I did with Matthew. So maybe it's twins!

Not. That was totally a joke. There's only one heartbeat - I've seen it.

Anyway, I'm excited, nervous, and a little scared. Mostly I'm just thankful that God knows what this baby is and what's best for us.

I'd very much appreciate your prayers in regards to the baby's anatomy. They'll do a good look at every major organ, and while I'm sure nothing is wrong, I'll be relieved when we know for sure that everything's normal. This was the ultrasound when we found out something was wrong with Matthew, so obviously it brings back bad memories.

Happy Christmas season

For most of my life, Christmas has mostly meant parties, food, and gifts. Oh yeah, and Jesus. I have to include him because I'm a Christian.

But this year it's different. Last night I was really struggling with Matthew's death and just feeling so hopeless. And then I stopped and thought about this time of year. I thought about how much I forget about Christ during Christmas and how much more thankful I am this year that he came. If Christ had never come I would be the most depressed, suicidal, and angry person you ever met because I really would be hopeless in the face of Matthew's death. I think I would probably fall apart if I thought that I had kissed Matthew goodbye for forever on June 18th. But instead, even on my worst days, when I think I can't go another second without my little boy, I can remind myself that eternity is coming. I can remind myself that because of Jesus, I get to kiss my little boy again.

Jesus' coming means everything to me this year. It means I have hope. It means I have a future to look forward to. It means that joy is possible.

Joy to the world! The Lord is come!

Well now that you know...

... I can finally blog about it! I've been bursting to share my thoughts and feelings from this pregnancy. It's been hard not having anyone to talk to except Cole. I've know since September 12th, though we had been trying so I suspected it way before then. I know some of you have probably been worried about me because of the depressing tone of my blog posts in September and October. Well, now I can explain why.

I knew that being pregnant so close to Matthew's death would be hard and that I would probably be emotionally whacky because of my raging hormones, but I had no idea that it would be this hard. I was very surprised by the intensity of emotion that overwhelmed me. I was sad all the time. I cried every day, multiple times a day. I was exhausted. All I wanted to do was sleep. I was irritable, emotional, and worn out. I wasn't able to rejoice over this new baby because I was constantly focused on how much I missed Matthew. I guess I felt that this new baby meant that life was really moving on, leaving Matthew behind.

Which leads me to explain something else you're probably wondering. Why did she wait so long to tell us? Well, there are lots of reasons, but it mainly comes down to one big one: I just wasn't ready to move on. I know it's stupid, but I felt like once I told everyone, they would forget about Matthew and forget to ask me about how I'm doing and move on to the easier thing to talk about - the new baby. I was so afraid people would think, Oh she got pregnant quick... She must be ok... I bet this new baby helps ease the pain, etc. I got pregnant again so soon because we realized that if we wanted another baby before seminary, I needed to have it in the early summer. We also didn't want there to be a big gap between Claire and the next baby. And honestly, this pregnancy has made Matthew's death harder emotionally. The joy of this new life collides with the pain of missing Matthew and, if I'm being honest, the pain sometimes overshadows the joy. So that's why we've kept it secret. I wanted to wait until I could work through my raging hormones and get past my fear of moving on with life.

So now I have a request for you :). I want to thank you for loving us and praying for us and sharing in our joy and sorrow, but I especially want to ask that you keep remembering Matthew with us. Please ask about how we're doing. Don't be afraid to talk about him - most of the time I'm dying to talk about him. Realize that while we are so excited for this new baby, we are still aching over Matthew. I am so thankful for the friends yesterday at church who realized this and let me talk about it. It was much appreciated :)

P.S. We find out on December 15th whether it's a boy or girl. I'm kinda nervous about it. Sometimes I want it to be a boy, but then I'm afraid that I'll just project Matthew on to him, so then I think it'll be easier if it's a girl....... so yeah. I'm grateful that God has already decided what's best for us regarding the sex of this baby and that I don't have to make that decision.

Claire has something to tell you...

She also wants to let you know that this exciting event will take place on May 13, 2012!!!

Claire loves Matthew

I've been trying to work on some projects and do some things to help honor Matthew's memory. I have a scrapbook that I'm going to work on one of these days, but in the meantime I've gotten a bunch of pictures framed. One idea I had was to frame a picture of all my kids when they're around 2 or 3 months old. I'll never have pictures of Matthew from first grade or graduation like I will for Claire and others, but I do have some cute ones from his short seven weeks here. So, I found the best one of him and went back and found a cute one of Claire from around the same age and put them in matching frames and hung them in her room. I plan on doing that for every child, that way Matthew will at least be included in some family pics.

Anyway, the point of my rambling is that Claire has really taken notice of the pictures. For the first few days, every time she walked in her room, she ran over to the wall, pointed and said "Machew!" And every night when she goes to bed, she does the same thing and sometimes says "Nih-night Machew." It just melts my heart. Even though she doesn't fully understand who he is, she recognizes that he's important to us. I am so grateful for her sweetness and the way she has been a balm to my soul in these hard days. I wish she could've known him better... but like I've been preaching to myself... no regrets. I'm grateful for what I have.

What I'm learning

I've been working through my emotions lately, trying to figure out why I've been struggling so much. Not that my grieving is wrong, but because it's draining and exhausting and I just want to work through it in a healthy way. I want to be able to live as a joyful person, while still being able to miss Matthew. What I've come to realize is that I have to let go of everything. Let go of the future I thought we had with Matthew. Let go of the fact that I'll never hear him laugh or see him walk. Let go of that little heart tug that happens when I see other moms with their healthy babies. Let go of what I thought I deserved or what I thought God owed me.

Instead, I need to be thankful for what I got. I got seven weeks and two days with Matthew. That's more that some people get. I got to spend every day with him and see his first smiles. I've gotten to experience a closeness to God that I've never had before. My eyes have been opened to the suffering of other's around me in a way they couldn't have been before. And I still have Cole and Claire :) and they are my biggest blessings.

Of course I will always wish Matthew was here. I will always ache for my little boy. But I need to move forward and not get stuck in the past. This is what I'm trying to do.

Halloween 2011

For Claire's halloween at church, she and I were cheerleaders. She was a Clemson cheerleader (woohoo!) and I, unfortunately, was a USC cheerleader. No, I'm not a fan, it just happens that I actually have my grandmother's sweatshirt from her days as an USC cheerleader and I thought it would be funny to have both sides of the South Carolina rivalry.

Oh, and Cole was one of the students in our youth group :) 

Cute little tiger butt!

 Stealing all the lollypops :)

 Bobbing for apples

Love our little girl! 

And then there was a halloween party for just us grown-ups. Cole and I were nerds :)

Asheville

Claire and I took a trip to Asheville the last weekend of October to see the leaves, like a million other tourists, and spend time with my parents. It was beautiful and restful and refreshing. I actually took a camera ;) so here are some pictures of our time there: 

6 months

Today Matthew would have been six months old, but rather than focusing on all the things I miss and what will never be, I want to focus on what I have to be thankful for.

I'm thankful that God chose me to be Matthew's momma.

I'm thankful that I was there for every single day of his precious life.

I'm thankful that I got to tell him I loved him and kiss him at least once every single day of his life.

I'm thankful that I got to see him smile and hear his little voice.

I'm thankful for all the quiet moments that the two of us shared.

I'm thankful for the times I overheard Cole telling the Gospel to him.

I'm thankful that he got to meet his big sis three different times and that she'll never go a day in her life without knowing who he is.

I'm thankful for his amazing doctors who were able to give us those seven weeks and two days.

Im thankful for the way he was so loved and prayed for by people that never even got to meet him.

I'm thankful that he is suffering no more.

I'm thankful that he was fearfully and wonderfully made (even with all his "problems") and that God planned his little life before the foundation of the world.

I'm thankful for a sovereign Lord who loves me and Matthew more than we can imagine and who promises me that this is not the end.

I love you Matthew and I miss you so very much, but I cannot wait for the day when we get to spend forever together. 

Verses

Psalm 94

"When I thought, 'My foot slips,' your steadfast love O Lord held me up.
When the cares of my heart were many, your consolations cheer my soul."

Between the Nancy Guthrie conference I went to this weekend and the encouragement of dear friends who have walked this path of suffering before me, the Lord is holding me up and cheering my soul for the road ahead.

My milestones

It's odd and just not right. While most of my friends are posting about the weeks and months that have passed since their babies were born, I get to blog about how long it's been since Matthew left us. Four long months. That's how long it's been since I held my baby in my arms. Four months of wondering why, of crying, and of begging God to ease the pain. Four months of wondering how I'm going to stand the rest of my life without him. How I wish my milestones were different. How I wish that I was blogging about all of his "firsts" and posting current cute pictures of him and Claire. I am trusting that he is running and playing in the fields of heaven, but my mother's heart would so much rather have him running and playing here with me.

Grief and Hope?

There are days when life seems really good, the future really bright. I can get excited about little things and just enjoy the moments I have with Claire and Cole. I can actually feel perfectly content and at peace.

Then there are days when I long to hold my baby boy so badly that the tears don't stop. On those days I don't think my heart will ever heal and I don't think that my life will ever be full again. Those days come more often than I would like and they leave me exhausted and broken.

It is so hard to face this loss, to feel its full weight and have to trudge through it. It's hard to praise God when I feel so cheated and empty. But I have to. I have to embrace the grief while keeping God's truth close to my heart. I have to believe that His promise of Eternity is enough, even when I don't feel that it is. And I have to realize that I will never be fully healed on this side of Heaven, and that's ok. Part of my heart is no longer there because I gave it to Matthew and he took it with him when he died. I will always carry this scar, but how I carry it depends on how I let God use it. I can be bitter (which I am many days) or I can embrace my grief and praise God through it.

I ask for prayer as I struggle with balancing grief with hope. I want to "rejoice in all circumstances" but it's harder than I thought it would be.

Homecoming

This past weekend, I went back up the mountain to Covenant for homecoming. I went alone (no husband or baby girl) and stayed with my dear friend and old roommate, Carolann. As we drove around Chattanooga and Lookout Mountain and reminisced about the "good old days," I almost felt like they'd never happened. I feel so different, so changed, so much older. I think even if Matthew hadn't died I would still feel that way, but especially in light of his life and death, I feel like a very different person. Part of me wishes I could go back to being a carefree college student, but part of me appreciates the path God has laid out for me. I am so thankful for Cole, Claire, and Matthew and I wouldn't trade them for anything.

Of course, a lot of people had heard about Matthew, so I had many good talks with my friends and got share in the joys and sorrows that each of us has gone through. I'm certainly not the only who's been through a major life change since college and it was good to hear what my friends had to say about life and faith.

I wish I had pictures, but once Carolann posts hers on Facebook, I'll share some here :)

Some fun...

This weekend all of us went to Asheville to visit my parents and two of my brothers. It was a good respite for me and gave me some much needed perspective. I tend to get too wrapped up in myself and then it seems that the walls of our house start closing in on me and my grief sometimes, so going away and being busy was wonderful. I also received some great encouragement from friends back at my old home church.

Cole and I also put together a wedding video of ourselves. As many of you know, Cole films weddings on the side (he's amazing!) and I've always been jealous that we didn't have a film for ourselves (our pictures were horrible and we have basically no video). We've wanted to do this for months, but had to wait until I could fit into the dress again :). We spent Saturday running around Asheville in the freezing cold (ok, so it was only 50 degrees, but it was windy!) with my brother James filming for us. It was hard for me to get in the mood at first because of how much Matthew has been on my mind lately, but I'm glad we did it!

It's three and a half years and two babies later, but we hope you enjoy :)

5 months

Today Matthew would have been five months old. It's hard... I wish I knew what he would've looked like and could see all the cute things he would be doing. It's hard to watch time keep going on and leaving him behind. He will always be stuck at two months old in our memory, even when we're old and gray, and that makes me ache inside. I miss my baby.

Thanks for sticking with me...

I try to blog only when I have something worth saying or when there's something that just needs to get out. These days, the only thing really on my mind is how much I miss Matthew, which after reading for a while, can tend to make you very sad and heavy feeling. That's why I want to thank those of you out there who still read what I have to say. Eventually, I will be able to move on to the happier things in life, but for now I'm stuck in my own little world of pain and that's all I feel like writing about. Every now and then when I take a break and write a post on Claire or something fun we've done, it feels out of place and too happy. Because, if I'm being honest, this pain is still too raw and recent for me to gloss over with happy things. I promise that I will eventually come out of the gloom, but until then, thank you for loving me through this.

3 months

Today is three months since Matthew died and I've really struggled emotionally all day. Church was hard; I basically ran in and dropped Claire off at the nursery and then went straight to my seat and sat down without talking to anyone. When it was the greeting time, Pastor Mike said, "Turn and greet each other with the joy you have this morning," and I turned and looked at Cole and said, "I don't have any joy. I'm going to the bathroom." Then I ran out right as the service ended and went straight home to cry and sleep.

I don't know why it's suddenly gotten so much harder. I felt like I finally had a handle on it, but all of a sudden, the loss is hitting me over and over again. I ache to hold him and I find that my memory is beginning to fade. I have cried and cried this week over those last days with him and how I wish I had known that I had so little time left. I thought we were practically on our way home and just took for granted that nothing bad would happen. I feel so stupid now. I wish I had seen every moment as precious and taken every minute to hold and kiss him.

There are so many things I would've done differently. I try so hard not to have regrets, but this week they have overwhelmed me. Every thing I wish I had done differently is coming to mind and leaving me a crying mess.

I would really appreciate your prayers this week. I so badly want to be joyful and be thankful that my baby is perfectly healed and happy in heaven, but all I can think about is how much I miss him.

Camp Willowbrook!

I recently found some pictures of Claire from her time at Camp Willowbrook this summer. Camp Willowbrook is what my parents have officially named their grandkid camp that they're going to do every summer. Claire got to go spend time with my parents in Asheville for a few days when I was in Charleston with Matthew. She came back happy and in one piece, so I guess camp was a success! Next year they're going to try to get all the cousins together for one whole week filled with fun and field trips. Are my parents brave? Yes, I think so!

A poem for my son

Matthew,

I thought of you with love today, but that is nothing new;
I thought about you yesterday and days before that too.

I think of you in silence, I often speak your name;
All I have are memories and your picture in a frame.

Your memory is my keepsake with which I'll never part;
God has you in His keeping, I have you in my heart.



*Thanks Ashley for sending me this! I love it :)

Our good?

A few days ago, one of my dear friends lost her younger sister unexpectedly, and I was reminded all over again of the suffering and hurt that we go through in this world. There is so much pain, death, disappointment, and hurt around us. It can make us wonder where God is and if He really cares about us. I know there are times late at night where I sit up in bed and demand answers from God. Mostly I just cry, but sometimes I almost yell at Him, asking Him why He didn't save Matthew and why He chose me to go through this pain. I tell Him that I don't want my life to look like this, I don't want to carry this scar for the rest of my life. I ask Him to at least show me what good is supposed to come out of this.

It's so hard to understand why Matthew died or why my friend lost her sister. I can't explain what God's doing in these situations, but I believe it when He says that He does everything for our good. I think C.S. Lewis puts it well when he says,

"We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; 

we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be." 

"Pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our consciences, but shouts in our pains. It is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world." 

I know that my pain has definitely roused me from apathy and made me more aware of both His presence and other's pain. 

Whatever God's purpose is in our pain, I pray that He shows it to us and then uses it to bless the world around us. 

Oh my heart!

Tonight as I was sitting here on the computer trying to get some work done, Claire was playing behind me and just chattering up a storm! She had all her toys out and was arranging them on the floor. All of a sudden, amid the babbling, I heard:

"Ma ma, da da, ma-uh." 

Ma-uh is the way she says Matthew. She can say his name better than her own. She's learned who he is and loves to look at pictures of him and kiss them. I always tell her that he's her little brother, but that he had a sick heart and went to see Jesus. I have no clue when she'll understand what this means, but I want her to never remember a day that she didn't know she had a little brother. It breaks my heart that she'll never remember him, but I love it that she knows who he is.

Happiness

There are times when I get caught up in my feelings. I let them control my day and dictate how I respond to the people around me. When I'm in a good mood, all is well with the world. When I'm in a bad mood, beware! I tend to make everyone around suffer along with me. 

Today as I was reading the blogs of my friends, I stumbled upon this quote that one of them had posted, and it hit me over the head with it's truth.  

"I cannot believe that the purpose of life is to be "happy." I think the purpose of life is to be useful, to be responsible, to be compassionate. It is, above all, to matter and to count, to stand for something, to have made some difference that you lived at all."

- Leo C. Rosten

It made me sorry for how I let my "happiness" dictate my life, rather than letting my joy fill even the bad days. I know I have plenty to complain about, but God never promised that my life would be easy or "happy." He told me that He would give me joy and that the purpose of that joy was to be a light to the lost world around me. How silly I am to forget that so easily. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

P.S. Happy birthday Mom! Oh, and a belated one to you too Dad :)

My Only Comfort

Q: What is your only comfort in life and in death?

A: That I am not my own, but belong - body and soul, in life and in death - to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ. He has fully paid for all my sins with his precious blood and has set me free from the tyranny of the devil. He also watches over me in such a way that not a hair can fall from my head without the will of my Father in Heaven; in fact, all things must work together for my salvation. Because I belong to Him, Christ, by his Holy Spirit, assures me of eternal life and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready from now on to live for him.

Life...

Someone once told me, "You'll be both relieved and saddened by how quickly life will return to normal." I found this to be so true today. I spent the afternoon at a church get-together with old friends that know of our circumstance and new friends who don't. I was able to get so caught up in the games and conversation that I completely forgot about Matthew for a few hours.

Then it hit me. I have a dead child. I am not normal. I felt the pain all over again and suddenly wanted to retreat into myself and hide.

Then I looked up at all the people I was with and thought, "You know, to them I look so ok, so fine. If they didn't know me, then they'd never be able to guess that anything was wrong with my life." It was both nice and terrifying at the same time.

Nice because it feels so good be normal and because I just want to feel young and free again.

But terrifying because I feel like Matthew's memory is already slipping away so fast and there's nothing I can do to stop it.

Streams in the Desert

Should Sorrow lay her hand upon thy shoulder,

And walk with thee in silence on life's way,

While Joy, thy bright companion once, grown colder,

Becomes to thee more distant day by day?

Shrink not from the companionship of Sorrow,

She is the messenger of God to thee;

And thou wilt thank Him in His great tomorrow - 

For what thou knowest not now, thou then shalt see;

She is God's angel, clad in weeds of night,

With "whom we walk by faith and not by sight."

-from Streams in the Desert 

My Sisters :)

I never got a sister. I prayed and prayed that both my younger brothers would be girls and I distinctly remember the disappointment when both times I was told, "You have a little brother!" All I wanted was someone to play dress-up with. I even begged my parents to adopt a girl, but alas, I just wasn't meant to have a sister. I mean, don't get me wrong, I still made them play dress-up, but that didn't last long... just long enough for me to be able to share this with you :)

Haha. My poor bro's! Of course, now I'm forever grateful for my brothers and loved every minute of being able to play the "I'm-the-only-girl-so-I'm-special" card. My brothers are so much fun and taught me to be more of a sporty girl. But there are certain things you miss growing up with brothers. 

Thankfully, I had cousins: Melissa and Sarah Parker. Growing up they were my sisters. We all had brothers, so when our families got together, the boys would go play cowboys and indians outside and we would have fashion shows inside. We gave each other makeovers, talked about boys, watched chick flicks together, and had heart-to-heart conversations long into the night. 

This past weekend, my aunts and cousins treated me to a beach get-away. It was so refreshing! I got to sleep in every day, lay in the sun for hours, watch Jane Austen movies, and catch up on our girl talk. We've all changed so much since high school and it was good to hear about what God is doing in all of our lives. They let me cry about Matthew and made me laugh until my stomach hurt with their singing and dancing antics! I love these girls so much and just wanted to say thank you for always being there for me! 

Dancing before my wedding :)

Being there in every season of my life. 

These are my sisters! Love you Mel and SP! 

I'm a Milkin' Mama :)

Yesterday was a bittersweet day. I haven't shared this with many people, but for a while now I've been in the process of donating all the milk I pumped while Matthew was alive. While he was still with us, I was so faithful in pumping every day because I wanted to give him the best shot at life that I could. Whenever he got a feeding in the hospital (whether through the tube or bottle) it was always my milk. I also wanted still have a full supply when he got home.

Well, that day never came and I arrived home from Charleston with a freezer full of milk that I no longer knew what to do with. It made me mad to look at it and think about all the hours I spent with that stupid breast pump when it was all for nothing. I hated, I repeat, HATED pumping! I felt like a cow and resented that I was hooked up to a machine rather than having my baby in my arms like a regular mother.

I almost threw it all away, but for some reason the idea of donating it popped into my head. I had never heard of anyone else who had done that, but I figured, hey, might as well try. I called MCG and MUSC and neither of those hospitals accepted donated milk. So then I went online and found these twin sisters out in California that have started a breast milk donation site called Milkin' Mamas. The milk they receive is sent to a lab that makes human milk fortifier and is used in NICUs around the country. Most of the babies that benefit from this are premies who have complications due to their small size and underdeveloped organs.

So I started the qualification process about a month ago (lots of questions, blood tests, and genetic screening), was approved, and yesterday I finally packed up all my milk and shipped it out - 425 ounces of it!

I took a picture of Claire with the two boxed-up coolers :)

It sure doesn't make up for missing Matthew, but still, I'm so thankful that I was able donate and maybe, just maybe help prevent another mom from having to go through what I just went through.

Little Miss Sunshine

Claire really is the bright spot our days. She keeps us (me especially) from wallowing in sorrow and she reminds us that life still has joy.

Little miss cute stuff is one and a half now and I thought she deserved a special post. I've neglected sharing about her these past few months because I've been so caught up in Matthew's news. She is still active as ever and her newest activity is climbing! She scales things that we think are impossible for her and she is always exploring. The down side to this is that she gets easily bored just "hanging out". I'm seeing more of a whiny side to her these days. I don't know if it's just a new stage or if it's her reaction to all that's happened with Matthew. Whatever the reason is, she's more clingy and needy right now. But she also gives me more hugs, which I don't mind one bit!

Here are some pictures of her that I took this morning:

Quite the little reader

She wants to come see the pictures I'm taking

Uh oh... something's not right

Aaaah, the sound of whining in the morning :)

Now she decides to be cute again 

I get a hug! 

Ooo, and a kiss!

Cole teaching her "trust falls"

"Hmm daddy, this refrigerator's kind of high!" 

There she goes! (This child has no fear.)

We love our little Claire and are so grateful for the sunshine she brings! (And the patience she teaches us.)

Revelation 21:4-5

People ask me a lot how I'm doing. What a weird question. How am I doing? Some days I'm sad, some days I'm mad, and some days the sorrow is so deep I don't think I will ever dig my way out.

I also have lots of questions. Most of them are directed at God. I want to know why God didn't save Matthew. I want to know why other people around me are having perfectly normal babies and I'm left with empty arms. I'm wondering why God chose our family to go through this.

Many people offer suggestions that might sound helpful but really aren't. I feel like we as Christians want to make sense of loss, so we come up with explanations like, "It was for the best" and "It was his time to go." I know I've even said those things myself. But here's the truth - I have no idea.

I don't know why God didn't heal him. I know God could have, but for some reason He chose not to. I'm disappointed and even mad sometimes that He didn't.

But here's the thing. I know that God knows this whole story and how it's all going to end. And I know that He weeps with me over my loss, not because He's helpless like I am, but because He knows that I can't see the whole picture. Like He wept with Mary and Martha over the loss of their brother Lazarus, He weeps with me because He cares about me. He feels my pain and He aches over it.

He also knows that one day I will see Matthew again. And in that day, death and sorrow will be no more. In fact, He has promised that He will wipe away every tear from my eyes.

So here's how I'm doing - I'm sad and I'm confused and I miss my son deeply. But this is what I know - God is real and He is in control. I don't have the answers but I believe in the promise of eternity and I trust God when He says that He will make all things new.

CS Lewis Song

Tonight as I was making dinner, I was caught off guard by this song that came up on my iPod shuffle. Emotions that were lurking just beneath my calm front came spilling out from me and I found myself wanting to weep and praise God at the same time. The song captured the cry of my heart perfectly. The first verse says, "If I find in myself desires nothing in this world can satisfy, I can only conclude, that I, I was not made for here," and then the chorus, "Speak to me in the light of the dawn, mercy comes with the morning. I will sigh, and with all creation groan, as I wait for hope to come for me."


That's how I feel right now. I have these longings for my son that nothing else can satisfy and I know that's because God created me to be a mother and also because He created me as an eternal being who's only on this earth temporarily. Before Matthew died, most of my thoughts were consumed with the here and now. Eternity didn't ever seem real or pressing. But now! Gosh, now that's all I think about! I imagine heaven and seeing Matthew there. I literally groan with the desire to be reunited with him. I find that things that used to get me all excited now seem pretty lame in comparison to the longing and excitement I have when I think of holding my little boy again.

I am so thankful that this song reminded me of the hope I have. There are so many days where I move about in a fog, wondering if life will ever hold promise again. It's good to remember that hope is coming for me.

I hope you'll take a minute and listen to this song - it's absolutely beautiful! (Please excuse the corny photo montage.)

Scenes from our trip

Lake Jocassee was wonderful! We laughed, we cried, we remembered, and we made new memories. I definitely had moments when my heart ached for our little boy to be with us, but the fam was great about loving on us and keeping us occupied. We spent all day, every day out on the lake skiing, tubing, wake boarding, and exploring the many waterfalls.

Here are a few pics from the week.

Hard Day

As you can tell from that last post, today was a hard day. I just really miss my little guy. I want to hold on to the memories of what he smelled like, what he sounded like, and how he felt in my arms, but all of that is already starting to fade. I know it's inevitable, but it's so hard to let go.

I went by the cemetery in Columbia today. I had to fill out some last paperwork and I figured I might as well stop by his grave (even though the headstone isn't there yet). It was very hard. The ground is still soft where they buried him and the flower arrangement that my sweet grandmother put together was lying on top of the dirt, wilted and dead. Altogether, it was a sad scene. As I stood there, I kept thinking about the fact that my son's body was lying beneath me, and although I know that his soul is in heaven, I couldn't help but feel that I had abandoned him and that he was scared and all alone in this huge cemetery. I know that sounds crazy, but anyone who's ever lost someone understands what I'm talking about. As earthly beings, it's hard to grasp eternity and we struggle to understand that the soul lives even though the body dies. So while my intellect tells me that Matthew isn't really there, my aching heart clings to the physical reality and can't get the picture of his sweet face out of my head.

On a lighter note, tomorrow we leave for vacation and I'm hoping that we will be refreshed and rested when we get back. I probably won't blog much, but I'm sure Cole will take pictures of Claire that I will post as soon as we get home :)

FYI

Just so you know, that last post doesn't mean everything is ok. It doesn't mean that I'm coasting along in the grief process. Because I'm not. I still cry every day. I still have days where I don't really want to live the rest of my life without Matthew. I still yell at God from time to time and demand answers from Him. I want to to walk around with a shirt that says "I just lost my son... Feel sorry for me." I get mad at people who cry over small things because I think that they have no idea what real sorrow is. I want everyone to constantly think about Matthew and let me talk about him for hours. I get offended when they talk about their own lives. I avoid babies and can't help but feel jealousy when I see a mom holding a newborn, especially if it's a boy. I can't sleep at night because I can't stop thinking about Matthew. I want to go back in time and hold him and kiss him again and again. In fact, I kiss my phone every night because his picture is my screen saver. And then I cry. And cry. And cry. And wonder if my tears will ever dry up.

BUT - because of the things mentioned in the post below, I know I'm not going crazy. I'm able to get through these awful emotions and still smile and have normal moments. By God's grace I know we will make it through this storm and enjoy many happy days ahead.

I just wanted to make it clear that we're not there yet.

Looking back

Grief is a weird thing. Just when I think I'm doing ok, the sadness will hit again and take me by surprise. For example, I'm in Asheville right now visiting my parents because I thought it would be a good distraction and a fun trip, but I've cried several times a day since I got here. I don't know why. There's nothing here to remind me of Matthew and I do have plenty of distractions, but for some reason, I can't get him off my mind. I guess I'd always thought the next time I came back here, he would be with me.

Asheville is a very special place for me. It was the only place I'd ever lived (besides college) before marriage and my parents have lived in this same house for 21 years. All my growing up and maturing was done here. In fact, as I look around my parents house, I remember that this is where I first learned about grief. The bed I cried in last night is the same bed I cried in 10 years ago. You might not know this, but when I was 14 years old, some family friends were in a car crash that killed both parents and four of the six kids, including the twin girls that were my close friends. A few months later, I lost another close friend to a brain tumor. It was devestating. In fact, I remember that year and the following years being full of suffering. It seemed like our church in particular lost a lot of people within a few years. Some were old, but many were young. What I remember most though, was the way people handled their grief. I saw them hurting and asking why, but I also saw them praising God through it all. They cried with hope and they sang through their tears. My friend's parents in particular were good examples of trusting God in their sorrow. I remember seeing her mom crying and smiling at the same time and wondering how she was able to do it. I could've never dreamed that God was preparing me for losing my own child.

Now as I look back, I'm so thankful that God used that time in my life to answer a lot of the "why" questions and to teach me what faith through suffering really looks like. I'm so fortunante to have friends that have walked this road before me, who can encourage me through my doubts and tears. Obviously grief is never easy, but seeing good examples of it in my early years has helped me. It gives me hope that I too will make it through this and still have joy again. I think if I had never experienced grief before, losing Matthew would have been much more of a shock and much harder.

I miss Matthew

Just when it feels like my days are starting to get back to normal, something always reminds me of Matthew and sends me back into sorrow and longing. I'll hear a song, see another baby his age, hear someone talk about Charleston (yep, that city has been ruined for me for a while), smell something, look at Claire, or catch a glimpse of a picture of him as I walk by my fridge and I feel that horrible ache in my heart all over again. I feel like I will never again be perfectly content. Isn't that horrible? To think that no matter how good life is, I will always feel an emptiness? It just feels so wrong. I'm only 25. I have the rest of my life ahead of me, yet I already feel so old and tired. The worst part is, I know that this ache will never go away. I've talked to moms who've lost children anywhere from 2 to 45 years ago and they all still feel the ache and long for the child who's gone.

Gosh, I should be celebrating his first smiles and giggles, watching him sleep contentedly, taking pictures of him in cute outfits and posting them on facebook, but instead I'm sitting here with empty arms and wondering what happens next. What are God's plans for me now? I know He has them. I know there will joy in the future, but right now, right this very minute, what do I do?

A few ideas

For the past week or so, I've been reading grief help books and blogs of other moms who've lost children too. I've found it incredibly helpful and just wanted to pass along some things I've learned. Before losing Matthew, I didn't always know what to say to people who'd lost loved ones. I didn't want to hurt them by saying something unhelpful but I didn't want to say nothing and ignore the fact that they were hurting. So I understand that you may find it awkward to be around me sometimes for this same reason. Here are some ideas to help with that. 

In our conversations, sometimes I might just want to feel normal. In public especially, I don't want to be walking around with mascara streaks and constantly be a blubbering mess. Last night I went out with a bunch of friends and was able to laugh and talk like I didn't have a care in the world and it was so refreshing! For just a few hours, I was able to feel normal again. You see, I'm not always comfortable crying in front of people I don't know well, so having a "moment" in the middle of the store or in church isn't really my style. I'd rather save that for another time. So when you see me at the grocery store or at church, feel free to treat me normally, like you would before all this happened. I'm not normal, but yet I am normal. Don't feel like you have to tiptoe around me. 

But then again, don't act like it never happened. Last week I saw someone that I hadn't seen in months and they talked to me for a while without ever saying one word about Matthew. It was so hurtful! I want to know that you haven't forgotten about what we're going through. Don't be afraid to bring up Matthew for fear that you'll make me cry. It's ok if I cry. Sometimes it feels really good to just let it out! As long as you're ok with me crying (and we're in a relatively private area), then I'm ok with it. I LOVE to talk about Matthew because he was and always will be such a big part of our lives. Sometimes talking about him will bring tears, but sometimes I might actually be able to smile and laugh about the memories. Just please don't ignore the fact that I had a baby and that he died. 

Here's what another mom posted on her blog: "If you are an acquaintance of a grieving person and you try to find out how she’s doing (out of sincere love and concern) you might get a response like, “Today’s a good day. Thanks for asking,” or “Today has been kind of hard. Thanks for asking.” This might not be what you expected. Perhaps she’s not letting you in emotionally the way you were hoping. But please accept whatever she can give you even if it’s not much. In your conversations, it can be really refreshing if you help her feel normal. And other times it’s best if you make sure she knows that you are thinking of her special circumstances and have by no means forgotten her or her child."

I hope this is helpful. Cole and I don't want to be a source of awkwardness, but we understand that sometimes it's hard to interact with grieving people. Please bear with us as we navigate the coming months and years. We have so appreciated the outpouring of support for our family. Just knowing that you love us and are praying for us does our hearts and souls good.

Thank you!

I just wanted to thank all the family and friends who have loved us so well over the last few months. Everyday I'm overwhelmed with the love that's poured out on my family. I promise that I have read every letter, every blog comment, every Facebook message or comment, every email, and listened to every voicemail that you have sent me and they have been a great comfort to my soul. I know I will probably not have the chance to thank each and every one of you but I just want you to know that Claire, Cole and I have felt your love and prayers. 

While this doesn't ease the pain of losing Matthew, it helps us feel less alone and makes us see that Matthew's life wasn't lived in vain. You see, I know in my head that "God works all things together for good for those that love Him" but I've really struggled some days to believe this in my heart. I've had days where I'm thinking "Really God? Really?! How can there by ANY good in this?!" But then I get an email or a card from one of you telling me how Matthew's life was a testimony to you and it helps me to lift my eyes from my own sorrow and see how God is using us in the bigger picture. It's still painful, but knowing the impact Matthew had in his short 7 weeks and 2 days makes it a little sweeter. 

So thank you. 

Matthew's Life

This is the final version of the video Cole started when Matthew was first born. For those of you who couldn't make it to his memorial service, this is the movie that was shown there. I will warn you that it's very emotional, but also very joyful. We are so thankful for all the moments God gave us with our little son!

Memorial Service

Just wanted to let you know that Matthew's memorial service is on Thursday at 10 am at New Covenant. I'd love for anyone who wants to come to feel free to be there. It won't be long, we just plan on celebrating his life and laughing or crying as we need to.

When I first told you all about Matthew's condition back in January, I quoted a few verses from my favorite song "O Love That Will Not Let Me Go" and I just want to leave you with those same words.

O Love that will not let me go,

I rest my weary soul in Thee;

I give Thee back the life I owe,

That in Thine ocean depths it's flow

May richer, fuller be. 

O Joy that seekest me through pain,

I cannot close my heart to Thee;

I trace the rainbow through the rain,

And feel the Promise is not vain,

That morn shall tearless be.

Resting in the love of Christ and trusting in His promises ~Julia  

Grieving with Hope

Years ago, when I lost three of my best friends within one year, I remember playing Steven Curtis Chapman's song "With Hope" over and over again as I cried. The first verse and chorus go like this:

This is not at all how
We thought it was supposed to be
We had so many plans for you
We had so many dreams
And now you've gone away
And left us with the memories of your smile
And nothing we can say
And nothing we can do
Can take away the pain
The pain of losing you, but ...

We can cry with hope
We can say goodbye with hope
'Cause we know our goodbye is not the end, oh no
And we can grieve with hope
'Cause we believe with hope
There's a place where we'll see your face again

This is kind of how I feel now. I've never known pain as deep as this and at times I think my heart might explode with the hurt. As I drove home from Charleston yesterday, I found myself almost furious with grief. I do trust that God works all things for good, but that doesn't mean that I'm not struggling. There are so many things that I had hoped for that will never be. I will never get to bring him home, never get to watch him play with Claire, never give him a bath, never hold him without having all those monitors and IV's in him, never hear him laugh, never really get to be his mother. I feel so cheated. We'd always known he could die, but we had so much hope after he made it through surgery and we actually thought he would come home. This past week I had started to feel confident that he actually had a chance. And then everything came tumbling down. In just 8 hours I went from laughing and being carefree to holding my dead little boy in my arms. Even now I feel like I'm in someone else's life and I'm just waiting to get snap out of it. But this is my life. The worst has happened. And I'm wondering if the pain will ever go away.

But then God gives me moments of peace and I'm able to breathe again. I'm able to be thankful for the 7 weeks and 2 days that Matthew was alive and so very grateful that I got to be there for every single day. Mostly, I'm thankful that God answered my second prayer. You see, whenever I prayed, my first request was that God would heal Matthew and let him live to be a strong and healthy boy and man. This was what I wanted most. But my second prayer was that if Matthew's life was going to be filled with lots of surgeries and if he was going to go through all the pain that came with them and still die at a young age, then I asked God to spare him and take him to heaven. I had heard so many stories of babies like him who went through multiple surgeries only to die while still toddlers and I didn't want Matthew to have to go through all that pain.

Our sweet little guy was born with so much wrong with him and I am thankful that he is now enjoying peace with God. I miss him so terribly and when I think of never seeing his cute little face again in this life, I almost go crazy with grief, but God is giving me moments of joy amid my tears. It would be a lie to say that I understand why this happened, but I'm trusting that God will reveal it to me in time. I think that hardest part about having a young child die is the wondering why. So yes, I am wondering why this happened to us. I am wondering why God would create a baby with so much wrong with him. I am wondering why God would give me so much love for a baby I only got to enjoy for 7 weeks and 2 days. But I'm trusting that this is not the end. We are grieving with hope because we believe that one day we will see his cute little face again.