What I Know

It has been one year today since that first ultrasound appointment where we found out that Carina had a 1% chance of survival. It's a day I will never forget. Mom and I left for the appointment, planning on meeting Ken there, and I remember that I felt like something wasn't right. I wasn't sick (at the time), I wasn't cramping...no physical signs that something was off...I just felt it. Mom said I was just nervous.

We were seen pretty quickly---which was odd---so Ken wasn't there when we went in. I made the technician stall until Ken got there. When he finally arrived the technician quickly showed us some different shots of the baby on the screen and then told us we were having a girl! Ken and I were really surprised because we were sure we were having a boy this time. But just as soon as our shock came, it left and we began joking about paying for two weddings, and how Ken would have yet another fishing buddy. The technician excused himself to "check in with the doctor" and we just continued to laugh and joke together, unassumingly.

From that moment on, my whole world changed. Up to that day, I considered myself to be a "good Christian." I went to church, prayed (probably not as much as I should), read my bible (DEFINITELY not as much as I should)....I felt like I had a "good" relationship with God. I felt like I had "faith." I never in a million years thought my faith would be tested, let alone tested like this.

Throughout the past year I have learned that when God says He will bring you peace, He means it. 2 Corinthians says, "But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God..." Though I have cried buckets of tears, had a pain in my heart that is immeasurable, and suffered in a way I could never have imagined, I still had peace.

I have also learned that you can find comfort from people you barely know. Wonderful people from church, friends of our parents, strangers we met, all prayed and walked with us this past year, giving us such strength that I still find it unbelievable. Some of those amazing people I have never even met in person. A few of which have had experiences mirroring our own. Just knowing there is someone else out there who knows exactly what we went through was so encouraging.

More than anything I have learned, I know without a doubt that God uses everything for His glory. I never believed that as much as I do now. If nothing else ever comes from losing Carina, it has brought me closer to Him. It has caused me to, literally, cast all my cares on Him. To talk to Him more. To soak in His word even more. And it has allowed me to become a better reflection of who He is.

I believe He had a plan in mind when He gave us Carina. I am thankful that He allowed me to carry her for 36 weeks and 2 days. I am so grateful that we have not had to go through this past year alone. And I am humbled at how God has already been seen glorified in my life.

If I had known a year ago what I know now, I wouldn't change a thing. Because what I have come to believe, and know, is that I have a big God. He loves me. He would move mountains for me. He has, and will continue to walk through fire with me. He has brought me to a deeper place with Him. And that is worth it all.

"In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith--of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire---may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed." 1 Peter 1:6-7

To read the whole story of that day you can click HERE

The Best Christmas Ever

Christmas came and went, and with it the 7th month of Carina being gone. The only day I really cried over the holidays was Christmas Eve.
I was driving home by myself from the church, having played for both Christmas Eve services and looking forward to the morning, even though it would be jam-packed full of busyness, and it was the first time I had just a moment for myself with some down time....and I just started thinking about Carina and how much she would love Christmas just like her sister. Autumn LOVES Christmas. The lights, and Jesus' birthday, the Elf on the Shelf, snow globes, Christmas music... EVERYTHING about Christmas. Three years old is such a great age for Christmas!! I must have heard a dozen times, "This is the best Christmas EVER!"
I started thinking about what we would have gotten Carina for her first Christmas, kicked myself because we should have gotten a stocking for her anyway, and the tears just came...those moments are definitely less and less, but Christmas ALWAYS gets me emotional anyway...remembering what Christ did for us, the sacrifice Mary made...relating to her as a mother...it all brings the waterworks, and thinking about Carina just added to that emotion.
This year I played and sang at a special ladies night dessert thing early in December, and I was asked to sing "A Baby Changes Everything" by Faith Hill....I made it all the way through until the last line that says, "My whole life is turned around. I was lost, now I'm found. A baby changes everything...." I thought about Jesus and Carina and had to just choke out that last line. A baby DID change everything.

Great things happened in 2011. 2012 is here now and I believe great things will happen this year as well.

Rejected Silver

November 28 marked six months since Carina was born. It's hard for me to see other 6 month old children. I think about Carina doing the same things they are doing. Sitting up, up on all fours, solid foods...so many things. As the holidays approach it's been a bit harder. Autumn loves Christmas and everything is "Amazing!" I imagine Carina would have been in awe of everything as well. We are teaching Autumn about the true meaning of Christmas (she is excited about Santa as well, as are most 3 year-olds), and she understands that Christmas is Jesus' birthday. We will be making cupcakes to celebrate! Maybe they're having cake in heaven to celebrate, too.

I've been learning some things in my devotions. Back in the days of blacksmiths and silversmiths, the process for refining precious metals was, and still is, to put it in the midst of intense fire. The silversmith would crush up the ore, put it in a fireproof piece of pottery, and place it in the middle of a great fire. The workman knew exactly how hot to keep the fire and for how long to keep the metal heating in order to skim off the impurities that would come to the surface. The goal: to see his reflection.

This process is exactly how God takes us through suffering and why. He places us in His loving hands (fireproof pottery), allows trials and suffering into our lives (fire), in order for His glory to be revealed and for us to become more like Him (reflection!).

I had heard this analogy before. But while reading my devotions this week, the author mentioned that it's possible to reject this refining. Jeremiah 6:29-30 says, "The bellows blow fiercely to burn away the lead with fire, but the refining goes on in vain; the wicked are not purged out. They are called rejected silver, because the Lord has rejected them." He heats up our lives to purify us and bring glory to Himself, but if He can't find purity in our lives, He rejects those.

I still don't know the big picture...the real WHY behind what happened with Carina. But I sure don't want to miss it. What could God be doing in me, and through me, that would cost me so much? Whatever it is, it will be glorious!

Heaven

This week's devotion has been on Heaven. I've come to realize a few things. A few things about myself, as well as a few things about God. I love it when some of His many mysteries are revealed! It makes me feel like I'm heading in the right direction.

Something I had to see about myself is that I can't wait to get to heaven. But the thing I had to admit to myself is, where I am so excited to see Jesus, meet with the disciples, chat with Mary and Esther, and singing in the most AMAZING choral group imaginable, I am even more anxious to meet Carina. I have never admitted that to myself until this week, let alone tell anyone else about this desire. Is it wrong? Is it wrong to have a deeper desire for heaven just because my daughter is there? Shouldn't my deep desire to get there be solely because Jesus is there?

This week, the author of my devotional --who lost two babies-- gave me some peace. It's not wrong. I shouldn't feel guilty. Heaven is more real to me now. Before it was just a place I knew I would go, and really did desire to be. But now, I want it more. And God uses this desire to make me more aware of Him. Quoting from the author, "Our inner longings are from God to reveal inner emptiness and need for Him and His love." I long to be with my daughter, as well as my other family members who have passed away. And in that longing, I am drawing closer to God and what He has planned for me.

At the end of the Narnia chronicles, C.S. Lewis writes that as the Narnians died, they found themselves in a wonderful new land, reunited with each other and Aslan. He says, "They were beginning Chapter One of the great story for which no one on Earth has read, which goes on forever, in which every chapter is better than the one before."

Today is the 28th. It's been 5 months since Carina was born. I came across an email to my mom last December where I was bouncing baby name ideas off her. I miss her. I will always miss her. And I will have that desire to hold her and love her until I see her again. It's the separation that is the hardest. But when someone passes away, God puts a little bit of heaven in our hearts so we will never settle for anything less than what He has in store for us there. I can't wait to start Chapter One in the book no one has read. Where each chapter is better than the one before. What will that be like? My daughter already gets to start that book. And all those in heaven are seeing the big picture before we are.

I am looking forward to heaven. And everything, and everyone, that will be there.

Going Through The Bins

This past week I dug into Autumn's closet and pulled out bin after bin of outgrown clothes I'd been saving.

See, I do this multi-family indoor yard sale twice a year and there's another one in a few weeks. And since Ken and I are looking to move a bit closer to our families and our church, I know we'll probably need to sort through our belongings and downsize. No need to take ALL our clutter somewhere else. And chances are, we'll be in a smaller house so it's good motivation to de-clutter our lives. That being said, I had about 10 bins of outgrown clothes in Autumn's closet. They've been taking up space, but I'd saved them for when we had another baby and if it was a girl.

It was time to go through the bins.

It was hard to open them up and pull out outfit after outfit, remembering the way Autumn looked in them and knowing no future child of mine would ever wear them again. Imagining how Carina would look in some of them with her adorable arms and legs that were so much shorter than her sister's. The local Christian radio station was on and, of course, played song after song that soothed my heartache. I didn't cry, though. I teared up, but the tears never fell. It's all a process, and the process is becoming normal.

We are getting an updated family picture this weekend. It seems odd to say that. It won't really be updated because Carina won't be in it. But it will show how much Autumn has grown in 2 years (the last family picture we did was when she turned 1), and how much weight Ken and I have gained, and how different my hair looks now...those updates will be there. But this picture won't be able to show the update in my heart. Or the update in my spiritual life. Or the update on how much more I love Autumn. Sometimes I wish pictures could do that.

I'm still rummaging through the emotional bins, too. Feelings I've had and put away, pictures I haven't looked at in a few months, the heartbeat bear I haven't listened to in awhile. It's important to remember and be sad as long as I don't stay there in the bins. I'm so thankful for this time in my life. I'm thankful for the memories, good and bad. I can revisit the bins when I need to and continue moving forward because I know the end of the story. But for now, I'm still living it.

Third Month

Much has happened in the last month. Birthdays, anniversaries, beginning of school, going back to work, vacations...Life is moving on. It's strange, actually, to think of myself moving on. I still have my moments of tears. Things hit me once in awhile but those times are really coming less and less. My mind was actually so preoccupied this past Sunday I had completely forgotten what the date was. I had thought about it earlier in the week..that the 28th was coming up...that it had been 3 short months yet sometimes it feels like forever ago. Is that a good thing or bad thing? Does it make me a bad mommy? Or is it good that I wasn't at all sad on that day?

I had planned on starting to work a little. Autumn is 3 now and I thought it would be good for her to go to pre-school a few days a week and my friend who runs a daycare offered to let me work there at the same time Autumn was attending. A few days a week...bringing in a little extra money..why not? My first day ended up being my last day. I thought I was emotionally ready to do something like this; be away from Autumn and take care of other peoples kids. Turns out I'm not. I cried nearly the whole day. Being away from Autumn was harder than I thought, even though she was only two doors away. I know she will eventually go to school and I will have to let her go, but it had only been 2 months since Carina was born and I wasn't ready. I didn't realize how much of a salve Autumn has been to my broken heart. It also hit me that I shouldn't even BE there. I should be home with a 2 month old. I should be seeing her first smiles. Hearing her cries. I should be drinking decaffeinated coffee. I should be dealing with sleepless nights. I shouldn't be raising someone else's children. So I quit. I gave it a whole day, but I knew I wouldn't be able to come back. Maybe in a few more months, but I'm not going to push myself. I don't break down like that very often, but maybe that was my body's way of telling me I NEED to do that once in awhile.

For my birthday weekend my sister and I got matching tattoos honoring Carina's memory. She had the most perfect little feet so my sister suggested we get her footprints as a tattoo. We spent a month or so working with the artist to design how we wanted it to look and here's what we came up with:

I actually hugged the tattoo artist when she was done. I'm sure they don't get many people who do that. She knows about Carina and was very honored to help us design something special. Autumn talks about the footprints and I remind her that they are Carina's. She sort of understands that they were from "the baby in mommy's tummy," and she says she wants to get footprints too. I told her not until she's 30. Just like dating.

As each day, each week, each month passes by, I get a little stronger. My normal is different but it's becoming more of a normal. I'm different, my parenting is different, my marriage is different, my faith is different. But my God is the same.

Faith Like A Child

I was able to spend the day with my mom and little sisters a few weeks ago, driving around on several different errands. Isabel and Olivia were laughing and playing with Autumn, looking at a little book with family pictures in it. Autumn showed them her picture along with family members and said something about her sister. So Olivia asked, "Does Autumn have a little sister?" I answered, "Yes, Carina is her sister," and wondered if that would be all to the conversation. Neither of them had ever really talked to me about Carina. "Oh yeah," she said. Then they started talking about Autumn's birthday and one of them asked if Carina would have a birthday in heaven. I honestly told them I wasn't sure, but I believed Jesus would celebrate it in some way because it's the day she came home to Him. They agreed that would probably be what happened. Then they asked if she would grow up, or if she would stay a baby? And what toys would she play with --big kid toys or baby toys? I said I don't know if babies who die when they are babies stay little or if they grow up, and I told them she probably gets to play with whatever toys she wants to play with.

This type of conversation went on for awhile and then Isie asked, "So how did she get to heaven?" Death is such a hard thing to explain to children. They understand about someone not being here on earth, and how now they are in heaven with Jesus, but they have a hard time understanding the process of 'how.' I did my best to explain. "Well, Jesus came and took her," I said, not sure if I should go into what a "soul" is or anything. They didn't understand. "So, did you see Jesus?" they asked. "No, I didn't see Him, but I know He was there." They asked if He was invisible and I tried to explain that it was more like His spirit came and took her spirit, and we can't see spirits, but we can feel them. I don't think I explained that part very well, but all they said was, "So....how does that work exactly?" I thought about it for a minute and answered, "Well, Jesus gave me a big hug and just...took her." Isie spoke up and said, "Or maybe the angels came and got her." I quietly said, "Well I don't think He sent the angels for Carina. I think that Jesus knew it was a very special job and wanted to do it Himself." They all agreed and that was the end of the conversation.

I expect to have more conversations like this with the girls and I hope they will always hold onto their childlike faith. The 'not having to see what we believe in order for it to be true' kind of faith. I pray it for myself and I pray it for you because it's the only way to survive the unknown.