Waiting

Today I received my Harper bear from Molly Bears. Molly Bears was started by a family that lost their little girl in the same way we did - a cord accident. They make bears for parents who have lost a child to miscarriage/stillbirth/infant death. The bears are weighted, so Harper bear weighs 3lbs 14oz, just like my Harper did.

The waiting list for a Molly Bear is very long, as is the wait time (currently 16-20 MONTHS). I was able to get my bear in just over 3 months by making a donation that bumped me up the list. When you order a bear, you are able to share any details you would like represented in the bear - I specified purple and butterflies. I am so so grateful to Ms. Susan, who made my bear, and sent a sweet note with her. It is so comforting to have something to hold that weighs what my Harper weighed (When I took her out of the box, I thought she seemed too heavy, but I took her upstairs and put her on Joey's baby scale, and she weighed exactly what she should).

I am definitely in a season of waiting. Waiting for the bear, waiting for the weighted heart that we requested from another organization, waiting for a keychain for Steve, wondering if we will ever receive any more pictures of Harper other than the 8 that we have, and waiting for God to tell us what is next. We are 100% sure that He has promised us more children that live with us here on Earth, but we are not sure about the when or the how. We are praying that we will have an answer to that question soon, but until then, we wait.

Waiting has never been one of the things that I am good at. I want to know everything yesterday. I want to have a plan. If I could just know when and how things will happen, I would be OK with the waiting for it to happen. But that is not how God works.

Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, "The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him." The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord. Lamentations 3:22-26

On another note, I did not finish the capture your grief project. It was really stressing me out, trying to figure out what to take a picture of for every day, and I know that was not the purpose of it, so I stopped. Maybe I will try again next year. I was, however, deeply saddened to learn that the Facebook event page for the project was deleted because people reported a picture of an angel baby. Is it hard to look at pictures of dead babies? Yes, but that doesn't mean people don't have the right to share those pictures. Sometimes I look at them, and sometimes, it just hurts too much. I commend any parent that is brave enough to share their pictures with the world. I am just not that brave.

Capture your grief Day 17: Time

Capture your grief Day 16: Seasons

Steve was so sweet to do a load of laundry while I was out last night, and fold it. It's time to start swapping out Joey's shorts for pants, something that I will never ever do for my daughter. 

Capture your grief Day 15: Wave of light

Capture your grief Day 14: Family

I hate that 2 separate pictures are needed to represent our family. These were both taken on the same day.

Capture your grief Day 13: Book

My sweet sister-in-law gave me this book when she came for the funeral. It was wrapped in a pretty green organza bow and had a card with it. It ended up in a bag from the funeral home with the rest of the cards and things that one gets from the funeral home. I didn't pull it out to even read the card right away, it was just too much.

Several days later, I finally got up the courage to at least open the card, and then look at the book. Once I started reading, I could not put it down. I read and sobbed and read and sobbed. It was very difficult to read, because I knew the pain, and because it was so fresh. But it was wonderful to read, too. Because there was hope. Not the hope that comes from reading about a family that is a year or more out from losing their child, but the hope of Jesus.

I tried reading another book that they hand out at the support group that I went to a couple times, but I could not get beyond the first few pages. Why? Because there was no Jesus there. There was no hope. 

The sermon at church on Sunday was on this exact subject, and Hans did such an awesome job. If you have a hard time understanding the purpose, or the reason these horrible, awful things happen, you can listen  here.

The verses that stick out the most to me are Romans 8:18 "For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us." and 2 Corinthians 4:17 "For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all." AMEN!

Capture your grief Day 12: Article

I had read this article before, but didn't realize it was written by the man behind the Return to Zero movie.

I write and talk about how I am feeling often, but there is another person who lost a child, and his voice and feelings deserve to be heard, too. Steve always holds it together for me. He grieves in private, when he's alone, and is strong for me when I am weak. I love him so much.

I found this poem online somewhere, and wanted to share:

A Father's Grief 

It must be very difficult 

To be a man in grief, 

Since "men don't cry" 

and "men are strong" 

No tears can bring relief. 

It must be very difficult 

To stand up to the test, 

And field the calls and visitors 

So she can get some rest. 

They always ask if she's all right 

And what she's going through. 

But seldom take his hand and ask, 

"My friend, but how are you?" 

He hears her crying in the night 

And thinks his heart will break. 

He dries her tears and comforts her, 

But "stays strong" for her sake. 

It must be very difficult 

To start each day anew. 

And try to be so very brave- 

He lost his baby too.