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Christian Faith In the NICU

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  Nobody really talks about how hard it is to be a Christian in the NICU. People talk about faith like it should make this easier. Cleaner. More peaceful. Like if you trust God enough, somehow the grief won’t cut as deep. But that hasn’t been my reality. My reality is praying over monitors and oxygen numbers. Pumping milk at ungodly hours while my body still feels shocked by how fast everything happened. Walking into and out of a NICU instead of being home with my baby. I’m trying to hold onto faith while simultaneously feeling exhausted, angry, disconnected, terrified, numb, grateful, and completely overwhelmed all at once. And honestly? Sometimes Christian culture makes that harder. Because people mean well, but when you’re sitting beside an isolate watching your tiny baby fight to breathe, phrases like: “God has a plan,” “He won’t give you more than you can handle,” or “Just keep trusting Him,” can feel less comforting and more isolating. But what if I am overwhel...
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Death Before Life

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  Yesterday should have been your “due date” it’s just now 2 years later, you should be here and turning 2 this Christmas. I should be filling your stocking and wrapping your birthday gifts.   But I’m not.  I don’t even really know how to “celebrate” this day, because it’s another day on the calendar, of a day that never came. It’s not the day you came, it’s not the day you died, it’s the day I had my D&C. It’s just a day.  A really heavy, really sad, really hard day.  Every. Single. Time. It. Passes.    I don’t know why it feels so raw to admit that I still wonder who you would have been. What you’d look like, your personality.  How do you rejoice on a day that should have been special when the joy has been removed by death?  We tried for SO long to get pregnant with you, and in a flash you were gone. The trivial, and painful question of “Why?” Often echoes in my mind, on days like this, but I know that even if I had an answer it wouldn’...
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2 Years Overdue

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  Happy Due date, to my sweet Boy Jesse.   To think that my life should look different than it dose is a whirlwind of sadness, disappointment, joy, and guilt.  How can I morn the loss of a baby, who if I was holding, I possibly wouldn’t have the one I’m holding now. Sure there isn’t a guarantee that if I had Jesse I wouldn’t have had Lincoln he might have just came later, but let’s be realistic. Probably not.  Someone asked me, “well knowing what you do would you go back and change it?”  How unfair of a question is that? To ask me if I’d give up my rainbow baby to prevent the storm I endured.  How does a mom even answer that?  If I say no, it means I would still want to lose Jesse.  If I say yes, it means I would “trade” Lincoln for his brother.  The question is impossible to answer. It’s unjust, and boarder line cruel. How can you expect a mother to choose between her children?   I had big hopes that this year would bring a little ...
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It’s NOT the most wonderful time of the year.

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We are quickly approaching what should be our 2nd Christmas with our son Jesse.   Our house should be busting at the seams with a mix of birthday and Christmas decorations. We should be shopping and wrapping an extra set of gifts. Losing Jesse wasn’t as black and white as losing just him. We have lost a life time of celebration, love, life, hopes land dreams.  When you lose someone after years of holiday celebrations you can feel their absence in how it changes things. However even though they may be gone You’ve got memories, and traditions to hold onto. Yet, Losing a baby, especially during pregnancy, is not something that can be easily honored but cooking a special meal, or singing a favorite carol that reminds you of ‘them’ so how do you celebrate while wading in the trenches of grief during the most wonderful time of the year?  It’s hard to not let my grief turn into anger.  Christmas cards come addressed to everyone in our family, except Jesse.  Gifts are b...
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Tis The Season…for postpartum depression.

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  My hair is a mess, the dishes are overflowing in the sink, the dogs are barking outside, the baby is crying and I haven’t peed in 5 hours.  For nearly 2 years I begged God for this, all I wanted was to be here, to be holding my baby. I asked for this season, I asked for this . Yet I find it extremely overwhelming and I’m exhausted. I can’t tell if that bad smell is me or the garbage that needs to be taken out.  As I sit, rocking my baby who will only nap when I’m holding him, watching re-runs of SVU and Grey’s anatomy I can’t help be feel completely consumed with guilt.  My husband works so hard so I can stay home with our baby. I’m sure the last thing he wants to do when he comes home is clean, but I’m nap trapped again. I’m stuck talking in a high pitched voice entertaining my sweet boy who needs constant attention.  I’m busy running errands, I’m busy getting the big kids to and from places, the baby has occupational therapy, physical therapy, I have mental ...
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Somewhere Over The Rainbow

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Somewhere Over The Rainbow  All I ever wanted was to be a mom and wife. As a little girl, I played for hours with my dolls and Barbies roll playing and pretending. It was no secret that my soul longed to be a caregiver to my own family one day.  Growing up into my teenage and young adult years, I was often called the mom of the group. Caring, providing, and protecting those around me is my nature.  When I was 18, I married a man I thought truly loved and respected me. However, our marriage didn't last. It wasn't built on love and family but on other things that were not sustainable. During my short-lived marriage, I became pregnant with my first daughter and gave birth to her in 2010. She changed my life and saved me from many self-destructive things, like eating disorders, bad sleep habits, and depression. Being her mom meant I had to care for myself to protect and provide her with a life of peace and happiness. Shortly after she was born, her dad and I got divorced. It ...
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