On August 4, 2010 our hearts broke as we heard the Dr. say "she has anencephaly...these babies don't live" at our 19 wk ultrasound. The Dr. is wrong. Our precious daughter's time on earth may be short, but she will live for eternity with our Lord in heaven. During the few months we have her here with us, we intend to make the most of every second of it. Our hope is that she will leave behind more than a few short memories, but that she will leave a legacy of what it means to hope in Jesus.
I stood at Rachel's grave on Sunday as Matt shoveled off a nearby grave for a friend. It was windy and FREEZING out and a gust of wind blew snow that hit my face. As I reached for my hood to cover my ears, I looked up and saw Matt doing the same. Both of us still in our dress clothes from church, I smiled at how awesome my husband is to be willing to take care of snow at lunch time with a van full of hungry kids and Asa missing his nap... all for me. I am a blessed girl.
I looked down at Rachel's stone and as another gust almost took my hood off, I said to my little girl... "I bet it's not cold in heaven"
And I giggled.
It wasn't a common giggle.. it was more of the we-will-have-victory-over-this-freezing-weather kind of giggle. The we-can't-be-shaken kind of giggle. And as I heard myself, I thought of the 25th verse in Proverbs 31 that says:
Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the time to come.
She has no fear of the future - it doesn't scare her. Because she has trust and faith in God.
And in that moment I felt so much comfort in the hope of heaven. I was brought to a place of wonder about what it's like and what she was doing. I wondered if she was playing and I thought back to our honeymoon... Puerto Rico - perfect weather the entire week. I mean PERFECT. And all I could think was it's even better than that. Earth can't compare - even on the best day.
And I smiled for her.
I'm so excited for her that she already has that.
Today, a friend sent me this song and said it reminder her of Rachel (thanks, Amanda! I am so blessed by people letting me know she comes to mind!) and I've found myself lost in it a few times tonight.
"I hope you're dancing in the sky and I hope you're singing in the angels choir....
I've been having trouble getting to the cemetery on Fridays - actually, I have trouble leaving my house at all. By the time we're done school and Asa takes a nap, it's getting dark - plus, it's just a ton of work to load these guys all up to go anywhere.
So, on Friday when I heard that my new necklace from Everlasting Memories had already been delivered, I was so excited!
I had contacted them on Thursday night to see if she got my email with the photo attached and expected the email to say it was received... so when she said it had been delivered, I was floored! I can't believe how fast they put that order through! It was literally less than 2 days from when I sent the email to when it was delivered!
They have all kinds of memorial jewelry - some really pretty ones that hold ashes that if Rachel had been cremated, I would love to have. I picked the photo engraved memorial because I wanted it to be as personalized as possible. And I was really excited to see they offer a lot of room for writing. My other necklace only offered two lines with minimal letters so I just wrote "miss my girl" but on this one, I was able to write more, which I really like. (after all, I'm a writer...) I got the block letters and love that they are clear and easy to read.
These photos are horrible, my camera wasn't cooperating, but it says "Her tiny hands changed my world forever"
The photos didn't come out great, but the necklace is beautiful. There were a bunch of options, but I liked this shape because it was a more modern looking heart - although they do have a heart that is more traditional too. It's a pretty heavy weight, which I really like because I feel it on me as I move. The quality seems really nice - the chain is beautiful. I got the "upgraded" one. I always have trouble with my hair getting caught in chains and this one hasn't done that yet. I've worn it two days now.
My only "complaint" is that I wish the etching was deeper so it could be seen from far away. The detail is beautiful and precise, but from a distance, it's hard to see. The silver (and rhodium) is so shiny (which is really pretty) that if the pendant turns, you can't see the design. I asked my friend what she thought about it and she said that she loved it and could tell it was Rachel's hands. When I asked her to stand back about 5 ft, she said that from there it was hard to make out - that it looked more like a rose. In a way, I think this is special - kind of symbolic of how Rachel isn't able to be seen, but if you really look at me, she is there - her handprints on my heart always and everywhere. But in another way, I would love for people who don't recognize her hands (which I am SO thankful that so many people do!) to see it and know what it was so that it could serve as a conversation piece to talk about her.
All in all, I would say that this jewelry is really pretty - and would make an amazing gift for a funeral or something since you can get it so quickly and write something special on it. I am a HUGE fan of fast shipping since I have a hard time getting out with the kids, so that is something I feel you can't put a price on! I also think if you have ashes from your baby or other loved one, you should look at their necklaces - I like them so much I thought about getting one to put a piece of Rachel's hair in.
The woman that I worked with is named Hallie and her email is hallieschumaker@gmail.com if you have any other questions. She is super nice and has a heart to help people heal after a loss.
So thankful to find something in her PO Box and especially on a Friday when I couldn't get to her. Every keepsake I have helps me feel like she is with me - so once again, God's timing was perfect.
Ezra is 6 months old today. It's hard to believe I have had the great blessing of watching 2 of Rachel's little brothers grow so much since she was born. And although I thought Asa would be jealous of his attention thief, he is absolutely head over heals in love with his baby brother.
my two babies
In every smile, giggle, cuddle and cry... I miss her.
But in the same moment that I miss her... I get lost in thankfulness for him. I stare in his big brown eyes and talk to him, hoping he knows what he means to me. I feel his soft warm skin and pray I never forget what it feels like to know my little E as a new baby. I feel his chubby strong baby hand around my finger and I am overwhelmed with the miraculous nature of each tiny detail of his body having been created inside of me... in the same space that once belonged to Rachel.
I know that my love for my children is deeper because of knowing what it felt like to hold her and then have to let her go. I'll feel my sinful nature start to get frustrated with one of them and the next thought is if only I could be so bothered by her... I wake in the night to care for another hungry infant, a screaming toddler or someone standing next to me saying they wet the bed (often all in a row!) and I think grieving her is harder than any amount of sleep deprivation. I'm just glad they are here to care for and love. I struggle though a day of schooling and cleaning and cooking and trying to meet demands left and right and remind myself any day one of these children could be gone too... how would I wish I would have responded if tomorrow never came? Would I wish I spent the day differently? Taken more time to love them? Sat down and read to them instead of being preoccupied with my tasks? Laughed instead of being mad?
I'm not claiming that I never get upset or frustrated or even that I never lose my cool. I'm not claiming that I never feel so tired I think I could collapse or that I live my life completely regret free. Actually, it's just the opposite. I'm as human as they come with a hot head and quick tongue and I am grumpy in the morning and over stimulated and ready for a quiet house by 7pm. But what has changed in me since Rachel left my world is that I am no longer content in any of that. What is different is that I don't take time for granted. What I work on every day is remembering the gift that each of these children are - and counting each "inconvenience" that comes with them as a blessing knowing that every single one of them is something I didn't get with my girl. And every moment is a gift and I want to receive it as such.
Today after our Sunday school before church, I stopped by the nursery to check on Ezra and as I peeked around the door, I saw his huge smile as his eyes met mine and I immediately smiled back. He's got to be the happiest baby I've ever seen. He just lights up my entire world. It's only been 6 months and I can't remember - or imagine - my life without him. I'm very grateful to watch him grow and to learn more about him every day as I watch him develop more into his own little (*super cute*)person... but I'm in no rush for these days to go too fast. Milestones are always bittersweet for me and much more complicated than for the common mother. Things that 'should' just be exciting are reminders of what I never saw in Rachel.
I saw on my old calendar that on January 8th last year, I first heard Ezra's heartbeat. As I went to write down the arrival of his first tooth exactly a year later, on January 8th this year, it struck me how fast life changes. How quick they grow... I wondered if Rachel would have gotten her first tooth at 5 months old too - and if it would have been the bottom left, just like all 5 of her siblings. And a couple days later when he got his 2nd tooth and I was feeding him cereal, Desirae said "ooohhh, he's getting so big, getting teeth, eating food and trying to talk to us." I looked up from the bowl and saw that her eyes had welled up with tears. And in that moment, I realized how old SHE is getting... my little girl, getting emotional about her siblings growing too fast... I think her & I will be good friends when she is an adult... and oh how I pray I get to experience that with her. But if I don't, Please dear Lord let today be a day without regrets.
6 beautiful months with our 6th baby.
Um...don't you just want to squeeze him?
I forgot to add Rachel's bear in this one. Wishing she was in it.
I posted this on facebook, but for those who didn't see it, I think Ezra is saying "victory!"
as he rides in Jay's wheelchair and she stands behind them pushing!!
As I just finished up this post, the sermon we were listening to quoted a hymn and the words resonated in my heart and that speak of what I was just trying to say. I'm thankful for the way my joy is touched by pain... it reminds me that this world is not our home.
My God, I thank Thee, who hast made The earth so bright, So full of splendor and of joy, Beauty and light; So many glorious things are here, Noble and right.
I thank Thee, too, that Thou hast made Joy to abound; So many gentle thoughts and deeds Circling us round, That in the darkest spot of earth Some love is found.
I thank Thee more that all our joy Is touched with pain, That shadows fall on brightest hours, That thorns remain; So that earth’s bliss may be our guide, And not our chain.
For thou who knowest, Lord, how soon Our weak heart clings, Hast given us joys, tender and true, Yet all with wings; So that we see gleaming on high Diviner things.
I thank Thee, Lord, that Thou hast kept The best in store; We have enough, yet not too much To long for more: A yearning for a deeper peace Not known before.
I thank Thee, Lord, that here our souls Though amply blessed, Can never find, although they seek A perfect rest; Nor ever shall, until they lean On Jesus’ breast.
I was contacted by someone who offered me a memorial keepsake in exchange for an honest review of it on my blog.
It requires a photo and so I went looking through Rachel's birthday photos to pick one. I had the thought that perhaps I didn't have the energy for what this could potentially take out of me emotionally, but I kept going. About 5 photos in, I was in tears. I shouldn't be surprised, but somehow it still feels like a rude awakening that I can't just look through my child's birth photos and not be sad. And yet what I saw in those photos tonight was....
I was smiling.
Everyone around me was looking at me intently.
You can tell by the people around me that it's not an every day kind of birth. And yet, by looking at me, you can't tell. And knowing what I know now, as I look at those photos I feel like I'm looking at someone else... someone who I feel is so unaware of what was about to happen. I see a strength I didn't feel, but couldn't fake and I wish I could go back to that moment. I see my belly and I know she was in there alive... with me...dancing... and I didn't know what I have come to know. I didn't know that my darkest fear of what imagined this journey to be would be nothing compared to how hard it has actually been.
Matt heard me crying and came in to check on me. "That's God" I said through my tears as I looked at a photo of me smiling. "There's no other way to explain it."
Less than an hour before Rachel was born - her blanket on my lap.
He didn't even ask what I meant, it's obvious. We both know I was scared to death. We both knew that our baby would die in a matter of hours or days.... or minutes.
I continued to scroll through the photos and the scene went from preparing for her birth to after we were brought back to the room. The photos from the Operating Room are out of sequence because they were taken on my camera so all I saw was the before and after... and I was still smiling, but you could also see the pain behind my furrowed brows. One of the first photos was a direct shot of the top of her head.
I just don't remember it like it was. I stared at the photo, trying to just pick out the good... "She had SO much hair... I bet it would have been like Desirae's" I said... "Yeah" Matt responded.
I felt my head start to shake in disbelief.... and the tears just took over.
Over 3 years later I still cannot believe that my baby really had such a defect. I forgot how much she bled. I forgot how blue she became, even before anyone else - including our children - even got to see her. And I can't believe I lived through seeing my baby like that. I thought about what it was like for everyone who was waiting to walk into that room and I hate that the word "shocked" comes to mind as a possible reaction to her appearance. I hate that "disappointed" could be how they felt. I hate that they probably all had a hard night when they left.
I just want her to be thought of as beautiful.
As I was giving her a sponge bath and looking at all her little features, I remember the photographer telling me I should move things along and bring the kids in for photos because the effects of time on her would make it harder to get good ones. I just couldn't see what they could see.
I was truly blinded by love and covered by His grace.
I am not sure how I could have made it through that any other way.
As I sat here staring at her bloody brain stem on my computer screen... heart racing, body shaking, tears pouring down like rain.... feeling like I had just opened up a wound I thought was no longer so deep; the tender scar being jaggedly ripped open... the radio played in the background and these words filled my air....
I hear the Savior say Thy strength indeed is small Child of weakness, watch and pray Find in Me thine all in all
And I felt my ache lift as both Matt & I began to sing, my voice still trembling with my heart....
"Jesus paid it all All to him I owe Sin has left a crimson stain He washed it white as snow...
And when before the throne I stand in Him complete, 'Jesus died my soul to save' my lips shall still repeat
Jesus paid it all
All to him I owe...
"Oh, praise the One who paid my debt and raised this life up from the dead...."
I look at her head and I know that it's a result of the sin in this world and it makes me hate sin more than I have ever hated anything before. But it also makes me love Jesus more than I've ever loved anyone before. Because without him, I'd have nothing more than a baby who was born to die... I'd have a birth defect and empty arms with no hope.
But with him and because of what He did for me and for Rachel on the cross... because HE was born to die... this gut-wrenching, breath stopping, paralyzing pain in my heart that feels like a ton of bricks on my chest... it's just temporary. And while I wait for relief... she already has it. She is already complete. She has been cleansed white as snow...
And I hear my Savior say, thy strength indeed is small... but child of weakness, watch and pray - and you'll find in Me your all in all.
So even while I cry - and I've been crying for 3 hours now... I pray. I wait. I look to Him. I look through what took her from me - her weaknesses - and I see Who will bring me back to her for eternity. I recognize my weakness and I rest in His strength. He is my all in all.
And I rejoice that even if it hurts, she was my good and perfect gift from above. The closest thing to Jesus I've ever held in my arms. An irreplaceable, precious, perfect gift who has changed my world forever. No matter what that means I have to endure or how complicated my heart is now... I thank Him for her. And I thank Him for the cross. I thank Him for making me so weak that I need Him like I do. Because if I was strong without him... well, it would be an illusion.
2 Corinthians 12:9-10
But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong
Psalm 34:17-20
When the righteous cry for help, the Lord hears and delivers them out of all their troubles. The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit. Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivers him out of them all. He keeps all his bones; not one of them is broken
For Rachel's 2nd birthday, I asked you all to contribute towards our 501c3 application. Soon after, I announced that I was not going to be doing the application because I was too overwhelmed to make it happen. I was feeling like God wanted me to focus on my living children and husband in 2013 - and so I laid aside my ambitions for Rachel's Legacy and rested in His will. It was not an easy decision, as a matter of fact, I think it was the hardest decision I had made since I got her diagnosis. It was excruciating. The whole year was tough.
But I did it. I spent 2013 focusing on my family here with me and trying to listen to God's voice where Rachel's Legacy was concerned.
And I couldn't shake it... I had to do it.... and so I sat back down and with lots of prayer and the help of one of the Board members, got all the numbers down on paper and what you see in this picture is me FINISHING my 501c3 application!! I am absolutely blown away by how much easier it was for me to make sense out of it this year. Last year I couldn't even understand the first page. My mind just couldn't comprehend any of it. This year I was able to work on it here and there without it becoming a wedge between me and my living family. And so I know God has shown me something about balance that I really needed to see. I'm super excited to be following through, even if it took a while - and very glad I was smart enough to sit on the money! I have this thing about integrity... Thank You Lord! I put the application in the mail on the 16th - and even asked the woman at the post office to pray about it as I gave it to her. So PLEASE pray that it will go through without a catch. I hear once they flag it for something, it can take months longer.
Thank you so much to everyone who helped make this possible and for all of your patience with me as I try to make my way through this thing we call grief. I've never had to do anything like any of this before and I know I mess up all the time - so thank you for loving me and seeing me through it. I need you.
Rachel Alice Aube... It's for you I ache and for you I fight... Love you pretty girl.
2014 here we come.... get yourself some racing shoes! :)
I make these return address labels that have caricatures on them underneath our address. I started making them after Rachel died because I needed her to be included - and I make new ones as new little Aubes arrive. (I tend to need to add someone before I run out of labels!)
Yesterday, my new labels came in the mail.
Isaiah went down the line, counting our family members and when he got to the end, he said "That's everyone except Silas."
It's interesting to me how concerned he is with the baby I miscarried. He wasn't old enough to know or remember it happening and I hardly ever talk about it. And yet when someone talks to us in public and does 'the count' - my sweet Isaiah always feels the need to announce that we have 'two babies that died... one was Rachel and was we lost.' (it took me a LONG time to realize he literally thought we LOST that baby... like as in misplaced him...yikes!) But anyway... in the same mail delivery, I received the finished product I told you about that I was working with an artist on for Silas. My friend Lisa gave me a gift to get something in memory of him when we gave him a name and it finally came... And it is awesome.
I already had this stand for my Willow Tree Figurine... and the "Remember" Angel to go on it - so I wanted it to fit on it next to the angel. This is the size of an 8 week baby (how far along I was) - it's in a "tear drop" resin, but the shape reminded me of a womb. (you can get heart shaped too) I picked stars to be Silas' 'thing'... so I asked her to put a star in it with the baby - I was going to use the December birthstone since I was due in December, but I decided to go with May when I miscarried since that date was more significant in my memory. I looked up the May stone and it said it was Emerald and meant 'rebirth' - It felt perfect. To think of my loss as his rebirth into heaven as apposed to a miscarriage on earth. She also made a little star that I put next to it on the stand. The stand that says Silas was a custom order - I told her I didn't want the resin to just lay on the shelf and that I wanted Silas to be written to commemorate the fact that we finally named him - and she whipped this up - it's exactly what I was hoping for.
up close
what it looks like on the stand.
So when Isaiah asked about Silas not being on the address label, I had a hard time finding words to explain why it's important to me that Rachel is, but that I don't want Silas on it. I don't want to tell him that one life is less valuable than another, but I'm not sure he can grasp the concept of holding a baby full term vs a miscarriage - heck a lot of adults can't. So, in an attempt to distract him from the labels, I showed him Silas' memorial...
Oh boy. I was NOT prepared for this...
"So where is Silas buried?" he asked.
A clear vision of me pushing the handle on the toilet and watching what I thought *might* be my baby swirl down the drain flashed through my mind. Hind sight would make that moment so clear, but I just didn't know.
"He's not buried, honey" I held up the package... "Isn't this nice?" I tried to distract, praying he'd just move on...
"What do you mean he isn't buried... where is he?"
"His soul is in heaven, but I'm not sure where his body is." I said.
"Well can we ask the doctors where they put him at your next appointment?"
"They don't know either." I told him.
"Well what did they do with him when they cut him out of your belly?" he said in a very concerned voice.
"They didn't cut him out, he just came out."
"He just came out?!?! He looked around to see if his siblings were catching this.
I explained to him that Rachel was the only one who was cut out of my belly. The rest came out naturally....
"Out of where?! Where do they come out of?" he sounded horrified. I felt horrified.
I had absolutely no idea how to explain what happened to the physical part of that baby. I never expected one of my kids to ask. And the conversation didn't go as I would have liked when all was said and done and he went back to playing.
Why didn't I just say I don't need Silas on the address labels? Just admit that he doesn't hold the same weight on my heart that Rachel does? I don't know. It's like I feel guilty about it - put pressure on myself to keep them at the same level - or just didn't want to let him down....yet instead I think I might have given him nightmares!
Losing babies is complicated all on its own, but having to walk young kids through it is something else. Honestly, I'm just really worn out from it all. He has never questioned how any of our living children got here. But something about a brother or sister he knows are somewhere, but not here, brings up a lot of questions as to where they are and where they came from. And I just don't have all the answers. I know "Where do babies come from?" is not anyone's favorite question to get from their kids... it's never been an overly comfortable topic, but I do so miss when it was a little easier to answer where my children are now.
All through 2013, Desirae was craving the American Girl Doll of the year, Saige.
When Christmas came and went and Saige was still not hers, she was disappointed. My dad asked her if she would like her for her birthday. She said "yes, but the problem is that they are 'only available while supplies last'." They got on line to check if she was still in stock and Des was sad to find she was sold out. My dad said he could get her the doll for 2014 instead and she expressed her concern that she wouldn't be as pretty as Saige. But, I was surprised by the silver lining she found... "Well, now at least I don't have to worry anymore if she will be sold out."
I guess that's a good way to look at it...I think she might have inherited my I-can-handle-anything-if-I-know-what-it-is gene.
Over the next few days we waited to hear the announcement for the 2014 Girl of the Year... We saw hints on line and saw that she liked to dance... Desirae said "Awe...just like Rachel, I have a feeling this doll is going to be perfect!" With a little bit of research, we noticed they hadn't had a blonde girl of the year in a few years. I told her I thought this one would be blonde like her.
You can imagine how excited she was when they revealed the new doll... She is blonde and has a ballerina on her shirt. She "is a talented 10 year old who likes to dance and design ballet outfits" (Des is totally into designing fashion) and in my opinion, she is MUCH prettier than Saige - LOL.
So the other day, my Dad (Papa) and my Grandma picked her up to drive her almost 2 hours away to the American Girl store to pick up her new daughter... Isabelle. She asked if Isabelle could get her ears pierced and she picked out little blue daisy earrings for her that match the ones she got on Rachel's 6 week birthday and still wears to this day.
This doll has "Rachel" written all over her... she is so perfect for Des that I was just as excited for her getting the doll (and all her accessories) as she was! Papa also brought her to the restaurant in the American Girl store where Isabelle got her own seat and menu and Des was able to order "An appetizer and main course" as she tells everyone because she felt so fancy eating there. She said it was the most exciting day of her life.
It was a pretty special day for a amazingly special girl.
I was reminded of when I was pregnant with Rachel and someone anonymously gave her the "Kit" Doll who was "A bright light in the dark days". Isabelle felt *that* perfect. I was able to talk to Des about how much better this turned out to be when she waited and didn't push for what apparently took up a lot of her mental space.
But the real reason I am sharing all of this is because Desirae has a cute little Christmas tree in her room. She asked for it the first year I bought Rachel a little one for her grave and she decorates it with many of the same décor I use on Rachel's tree. This year though, she wrapped a bunch of little presents for her dolls. She told me the other day, when I asked about taking her tree down, that she was waiting to celebrate Christmas for when Saige came home, but now that Saige isn't coming home, she was waiting for Isabelle.
She prepared to go get Isabelle on Tuesday morning by packing her AG "travel bag" that she got as a present from my brother and sister-in-law. When she got home, she showed me all of her stuff and disappeared immediately to her bedroom. I called up to see what she was doing and she said "I'm celebrating Christmas with Isabelle." The funny thing is, I already knew that.
Over the past couple of weeks, I have been asked again and again how my Christmas was. I want to just say it was great... because really, it was... but what has come out each time is "Christmas just isn't the same..."
And it's not.
It hasn't felt like Christmas used to since Rachel died and I don't know if it ever will. I can so relate to Des wanting to save opening the gifts and celebrating Christmas until her longed for daughter comes home. I hate going through Christmas without Rachel. And as I saw her eagerness to open the gifts, that she has left waiting all this time, once she had Isabelle in her arms... I knew in my heart that I might need to be home with Rachel before I feel that old feeling again... but it's okay, because one day, Christmas is coming...
Desirae kneeling in front of an Evergreen tree with her doll to open her beautifully wrapped and waited for gifts was a picture to me of the day I am waiting for.... the day that I will unwrap the gift of eternity with my girl kneeling in front of the Everlasting God - The day we'll be home together.
My dad helping Des & Isabelle out of the car after a long day of travels...
Aren't they pretty? Des is showing her ballerina shirt.
The back of her "leather jacket" that came in her accessories kit.
These dolls clothes cost more than I pay for my own!!
It's been almost a week and Des is still carrying Isabelle around with her everywhere. And I thought she was getting too old for dolls... I guess she has a little more time left in her. Wish she had her little sister here to play along with her...
Today Des & I went to her dentist appointment. We sat in the waiting room for a while before they called us in. I was texting a friend when they called her name....
"Desirae and Mom" she called...
We got up and met her at the door. She looked behind me and asked "Do you want your other daughter to come in too?"
My head was so confused... I turned to look where she was looking, but saw nothing. I asked what she meant... was she talking about Rachel? What did she mean do I want her to come??
"That little girl that was just standing next to you, she's not your daughter?"
"No, there was a girl standing next to us?" I asked.
"Yeah, she was up on the platform with you."
I told her I hadn't noticed a little girl and fought the urge to tell her that I *do* have another daughter...
When she left the room, I asked Des about it. She said this little girl, about 3 years old, was standing up against her, just staring at her - not saying anything.
I don't know how I missed that, but for a split second today, I knew what it felt like to have someone include "my other daughter" as if she were real and alive and actually physically with me... and for a split second, I forgot she wasn't. And for that split second, my world felt right.
Until that second ended and I realized it was all a misunderstanding. My heart shattered again. My head felt dazed again. I felt the hope of her coming with me fall once again.
And that's the complicated nature of this thing we call grief... it strikes during simple, every day life stuff... she was never 'coming with me' into that office and as a matter of fact, she wasn't even on my mind at that time. But all it took was a hint of that being my reality and I was lost in that moment and when I snapped out of that moment, the heartache felt so fresh and real and painful. I wanted nothing more than to turn around and say "Come on, Rachel..." and pick up my little 3 year old girl and bring her with us.
11 years ago today, I learned a love I never knew and could never top when I held Desirae May in my arms for the first time.
2 weeks early on a Friday (my first Friday baby!!) that brought a big snow storm much like today, 19 hours of HARD Pitocin induced labor, young and clueless and unwed, and still on house arrest! I welcomed a chubby 8 lb, 10 oz little girl with a head full of black hair into my world and I have never been the same.
I can't imagine what life would be like without her. God used her to bring me to Him and I only pray He will use me to bring her to Him as well. She has become such an amazing young lady who will make an extraordinary wife and Mama if the Lord allows.
Happy Birthday Des. It's you and me against the world girl <3 p="">
First time I held her in my arms - I still cry every time I look at this picture
Still covered in vernix from being 2 weeks early, but her weight wasn't lacking.
She was so chubby
Head full of hair and looked just like Daddy
Matt was just 21 yrs old
Christmas is still not the same. I don't think it ever can be again.
Christmas Morning Sleepy Faces.
I wonder what today was like in heaven...
Since I've been at this grave decorating thing for a while now, there isn't much I need to do to make things pretty for her. I'm thankful for that, but at the same time, it leaves me feeling like I have nowhere to direct my need to take care of her. I put a few things in her stocking, but can't see spending a lot on things for a child who isn't here. I try to incorporate her where I can, but it's hard to find something that feels good enough and yet makes sense.
For the first time in 4 Christmases, I arrived at Rachel's grave to find not one Christmas gift there for her. The young boy that died recently and is buried not far away had 4-5 visitors in the 30 minutes we were there - all unaware that they weren't the only ones. I wondered if that is what Rachel's spot was like the first Christmas she was gone. I believe it was - and maybe even the 2nd one as well. I knew it wouldn't go on forever, but it's hard to know that her spot is less and less traveled upon. I found such comfort in knowing that others stopped by to check on her and to remember her too. This year the space felt empty. There was a card hanging in a bag, I excitedly opened it and was disappointed to find a thank you card from a nearby griever who we shoveled for. Not that I didn't appreciate the card, but I so was hoping it was for Rachel. This is by far the hardest thing for me to swallow... people move on much faster than I ever will. And even for all the people who grew to love Rachel in the early days, there are few still on the journey with me. This year has been revealing that more each day. It's very hard. Thank you if you still remember her with me... I need you more than you will ever know.
I had received one Christmas card in her PO Box from my friend Lisa. I got it the day before and waited to open it and I put it in her stocking. I brought it to her grave just in case there was nothing there. I opened it and read it to her. I was thankful for that. I don't know what else I would have done there if I didn't have that.
We didn't leave the house to visit her until after 4, so it was starting to get dark. We stopped for hot chocolate and were blessed to find it was free all day! So we each got one and I grabbed an extra cup for Rachel. I hung her stocking (I usually bring it on Christmas eve, but wasn't able to and was heavy hearted about it) and left her a cup.
I stood there and tears started to fall - as one vehicle after another came and went behind us, their headlights all shining bright on Rachel's stone for me. I could see my shadow over the stone and my heart broke. I can't believe I've been standing on this spot for 4 Christmas days. I remember the first one clearly - the overwhelming nature of early grief mixed in with the world's celebration of Christmas and all the pressure to pretend like things were the same as always. Getting in a fight with Matt over batteries and a frozen ground as I tried to get her lights lit back up (after the cold had killed the batteries) because I couldn't stand the thought of it being dark there on Christmas night and he didn't see the point. So much pain that first December. It was almost unbearable. It's been such a long road. And now we start our 4th round of 'withouts'... it seems impossible it was that long ago that I kissed her sweet face. I miss her so much.
I guess what I notice these days is that although every instance isn't painful anymore, I can feel her woven into every single minute I breathe. I spent some of the afternoon snuggling with Ezra in my chair. He had blown out in his outfit, so he was just wearing a diaper and he was so snuggly. He was fast asleep and reached up and wrapped his arms around me. I'm not sure I can put into words for you what that moment did in my heart, but I can tell you that besides being so unbelievably grateful for a live baby in my home on Christmas, every thought I had brought me back to Rachel.
His soft skin, his warm breath, his grunts and wiggles.... his relaxed hands that lay flat on my shoulder like Rachel's did... some of it made me miss what I didn't get with Rachel and some of it made me miss what I did. I relished in the life I hold now, while I mourned the life I lost until eternity. Simple things hold such deep and difficult, complicated feelings... intense love... unquenchable thirst for God's comfort and grace... and a yearning for heaven I never knew existed. I've never wanted to be in two places at once so bad as I do when I am holding my living children.
And what I noticed the most about my life - especially on Christmas - is that I'm the only one who knows. Nobody around me would ever know the extent to which she envelops my every moment. I did family get-togethers and our own Christmas day celebration - and nobody knew. I watched so many people acknowledge the other kids and forget about her and I didn't fall apart. I thought about her a million times. Nobody could see what I felt. Not even Matt and the kids. Each week I run errands, go to church, bring my kids out for things...she is in my every move and always on my heart - and nobody knows. I'm not sure if it looks much different than the first couple of years without her, but it feels different and I can't really explain why, other than to say that I guess I'm starting to accept the fact that this pain is all mine.
A few days before Rachel's birthday, I got a package in the mail from a blog reader in Switzerland. Although I've never talked to her in person, I've never met her and likely never will, and she knows me much more than I know her... I call her my friend.
I sat here looking at the package that had taken almost 2 weeks to travel from her to us and I wondered how I can call someone a friend that I have never met. And then I realized it's because she knows so much about me and loves me anyway. I'm not silly enough to think I'm easy to love. I know I'm a complicated girl with heavy feelings and strong opinions - and so when I know that someone can read all of my feelings and thoughts and still love me, I feel like it's God's love coming to me through them... I can see Jesus in it. He has brought me love through this in the most unexpected places. For every person who has let me down in the last 3 years, Jesus has given me a dozen who have shown up in big ways.
I opened the package and we all sat around, having so much fun with how the labels were in a different language. The kids were so excited for all the little toys and I was thrilled with the Lindt chocolates :) And yes, I hid them and ate them all myself... well, I shared a couple. But when I saw the main gift, I was amazed. It was a huge and beautiful banner with Rachel's name and dandelions sewn on it. The kids held it up so I could see the whole thing.
I had to bend it so it would fit in the photo - it's big! The other side is all pretty girly fabrics.
you can see one of them folded up in the middle
I began reading the card and was blown away.
My friend in Switzerland started 2 years ago working on a banner for my sweet girl. She said she originally thought it would be hung at Rachel's Race - yet when I announced that I wasn't doing Rachel's Race, she continued making it. She has worked a little at a time on it, in the busyness of her own life, for 2 years! I started to cry. I can't believe someone would spend 2 YEARS writing out my girl's name for me.
But as I read - and re-read - her card, her words about Rachel and how she came to know of us were such a blessing to me. I had no idea when I started writing here a week after Rachel's diagnosis that my words would even be read across the world, let alone the idea that I'd get packages from new friends there! But, I read words that will forever remain the biggest blessing throughout this journey... the words that keep me going when I wonder what the point is or when I'm being criticized by people who think that good Christians don't cry... the words that were my first and only hope with this blog and will be my last and only hope with anything I ever do for Rachel and through her story...
I literally cry every. single. time. I read this. And I read it often. I am unbelievably humbled that in this heartache - with as imperfectly as I have walked through it - that Jesus has still been seen here. When I first signed onto Blogger in 2010, I wrote the words at the top of this blog.... "Our hope is that she will leave behind more than a few short memories, but that she will leave a legacy of what it means to hope in Jesus."
This is the best gift I could ever be given. For me to see Jesus in others and for others to see Jesus through me. I'm so thankful for friends taking time to let me know. It doesn't stop the pain, but it does give my pain purpose.
The beauty of this, though, is that the words that followed "I saw Jesus" were "speaking through your honest words and your life." She 'saw Jesus' in the depths of my pain. In my transparency. In my doubt and struggles. In my honest words and in my life through the loss of my daughter How I have leaned on Him and how He has held me up. He has always brought me through every valley along this journey and I'm so grateful... honored... humbled... that it has been seen. That He has been seen.
Thank you my friend(s) for letting me know and for loving me through it all. I am so blessed.
In April of 2008, I was given a due date for our third baby - December 18.
5 weeks pregnant with our 3rd baby - already in love.
On May 7, at 8 weeks along, I miscarried that baby. It's hard to believe it's only been 5 years with all I have experienced since then.
It was the most horrible pain I had ever felt in my entire life. And I didn't live a pain free life. I have a colorful past that came with many heartaches and tons of pain, often self inflicted, which is sometimes the worst kind. So to say that it surpassed any pain I had ever felt was a big statement. And it was a true one.
I didn't sleep for days. I cried the deepest, most pain-filled cry I ever had. I felt like life had been stripped from my womb, and it had. I was no longer expecting a baby that I had been already so in love with - I was waiting for the remains to finish passing. It was the first time in my life that I discovered that being a mother could hurt like that.
My pain was intensified by the crazy things people would say to me in an attempt to explain away my loss. I am sure they meant well. But it was hard.
I needed to do something to memorialize this baby. I bought a Willow Tree Figurine called "Remember" and ordered a special stand that said "In loving memory of Baby Aube" and put a little thing I made with Jeremiah 1:5 on it. "before I formed you in the womb, I knew you". Matt bought me a ring with 3 stones to represent our 3rd baby and the birthstones to represent the month it was conceived and due because just a couple days later was Mother's Day. My first Mother's Day as a bereaved mother.
A month later, I got pregnant with Samuel. I was told to wait at least 3 months, but you know me and rules... I had 2 pink lines 5 weeks from the day of my miscarriage. I was so excited, but I was on egg shells, afraid of another loss... and at 6 weeks along with Samuel, I started to bleed very heavily. I went to the hospital MAD. I was so mad at God that He would take another baby from me. (remember what I said about my blue print?) When they told me his heart was still beating during the ultrasound, and that they could see a pocket of blood next to him, meaning I had a "threatened miscarriage", I was so relieved he was still alive. As soon as I got to 8 weeks, I felt like I was safe - and at 12 weeks, I 'knew' I was in the clear. Isn't that the only time bad things happen to pregnant women? So I thought....
And at that point, I stopped grieving for that baby and moved forward. I still always mentioned that baby in our 'count' - we referred to it as "baby Aube #3" but my heart healed and eventually, it was a sad thing that had happened to me, but I didn't miss that baby or cry for it anymore. I do remember going to the Angels Walk for Wishes at the end of summer that year and crying as they read 'Baby Aube' in their Baby Remembrance Ceremony and desperately needing that recognition. It was my baby.
When I first got Rachel's diagnosis, I thought that I *knew* what it was like to lose a baby. Having been through my miscarriage and experiencing that gut wrenching pain, I prepared for Rachel with that as my basis. I remember talking to my sister about my 'next baby' while I was still pregnant with Rachel and her saying she couldn't believe I was already talking about another baby. But I think part of that was that I really wanted another baby before I was pregnant with Rachel - and now I wasn't going to get to keep her - so I wanted another baby as soon as I could. I think in my subconscious, though, I was expecting that another baby would help me to heal and take away my pain - like it did when God gave us Samuel.... most people around me expected the same out of my 'rainbow baby' Asa...but it never came.
If you've been with me from the beginning, you know that at about 6 months after Rachel's death, I went through a period of anger. I read some of those posts and I ache for the me that I was because I know now that part of that was I had this expectation that losing Rachel was going to be the same as losing Baby Aube #3. Because they were both my babies and I couldn't imagine anything hurting worse than what I experienced with my miscarriage. But it just wasn't the same. It trumped it a million times over. And nothing took away the sting. I was pregnant again, even passed the point of being able to tell that Asa was healthy and yet, I didn't feel any relief. I just wasn't expecting it - and there is no way I could have prepared for it.
I have definitely learned to never assume that I know how something will feel - not to my own heart and certainly not to another's heart. Grief is such a personal and unique road for each person and each loss.
I've spent my entire journey with Rachel encouraging other moms to name their babies lost to miscarriage. I've encouraged them to remember and memorialize their babies. I've reminded them that their babies matter and were real. I've remembered them with them and for them and I've even cried a thousands tears for their aching hearts. I can empathize and understand in a special way because I know that pain - but all the while, I never did that for our baby.
The day of Rachel's Memorial Playground opening was on Mother's Day 2011, which 'just happened' to land on May 7... 3 years after I lost our 3rd baby. I remember mentioning how special that day would be as an opening when I first picked it. But I was still pregnant with her then and that was before I realized that the healing process for Rachel would be completely different and much harder for me.
And that was the last time I really recognized that baby. At times, I've felt guilty that I don't count it in our family count anymore. I've struggled as I have realized in hind sight that I forgot to include our 3rd baby in things... like when I did Rachel's Race and never included that baby in the Remembrance Ceremony...two years in a row! Or when I ordered my Hankie and didn't ask for one for Baby #3....I just forgot. Even when I got my tattoo, I had trouble knowing if I wanted to include an extra seed for that baby. I don't know, it wasn't purposeful, it just went completely by the wayside as I came to know the grief of burying Rachel and the months and years that have followed. It's like my heart couldn't do both.
Still, I have continued to wonder and pray about the gender of that baby - as well as if I should name it. After trying very hard to convince myself it was a girl and even coming up with a girl name I liked.. I just never felt a peace about it. I still tend to think of it as a boy - not sure if that is from God or just because I have so many boys, but I decided rather than call the baby "it" I would say "him". That felt better already, so I've been praying about a name.
And the other day, while driving down the road, God gave me the name. I wanted a middle name too, but I don't have one that feels right - and I figure since it's been 5 years already, I might as well wait and see if God gives us a middle name at a later date. But for today, we have decided to name our third baby Silas... which means "Third". It's a perfect and simple way to keep his place as Baby Aube #3 - our 3rd gift from God.
I didn't expect to feel so excited about it, but I feel really good giving him a name. God's timing is perfect and I know this is probably part of my healing process with Rachel as well. I told my good friend Lisa about it and she sent me a gift to buy something in honor of Silas and I'm working with a woman on line to create a special piece for him to go next to the Willow Tree Figurine I have. I will post a photo when I get it.
I do know that for my earthy life, the loss of Rachel feels so much bigger - and honestly, I'm thankful for the healing that I have in relation to losing Silas... and I'm okay with the fact that it isn't the same weight on my heart. And I am so thankful for the friends I have that have been vulnerable with me and told me their experience is the same so that I know that this is not unusual. But I also know that when I enter the Kingdom of heaven, I will find two of my children there waiting. No matter how long they live inside of my womb or out, what makes them 'real' is their soul. And they both have one. And now they both have a name.
I haven't really struggled with the "why" of Rachel. In the early days, I asked a few questions of the doctors, assuming they would know why she had anencephaly. I wanted to know for much of the same reason I believe others consistently inquire about the 'why' of tragedy....
To avoid it in the future.
After the initial shock of her diagnosis, I became surprisingly at peace with the not knowing. I've never in my life ever been - or since been - so content with not knowing something.
When I tell people about Rachel, they will without fail always ask me why it happened. In that moment, I almost always feel like I am watching the conversation from above - and I see myself shake my head and watch as they respond with a look of pity.
As if knowing why would change a thing....
This morning, church was cancelled because of snow. I was working in the kitchen when a song came on Pandora... I turned it up and as I listened to the words, I started to cry as God whispered to my heart the 'why'.
I know I've mentioned it before, but I'm not sure anyone really understands the depth of it.
I was completely against God until I was 24 years old. I knew NOTHING of Jesus at all, unless you count using His name as a cuss word, which was part of my every day language. When God first got a hold of my heart, I sat in church week after week and bawled through every sermon. I didn't even know why I was there, I had only been to church a handful of times in my entire life. The first 3 years I went to a woman's retreat, I sobbed my way through the entire thing. Was it because I was depressed? No, it was just the opposite. I had never felt the unconditional love I was receiving and the one thing I continually said through those tears was "I'm not worthy of this."
Now, I fully understand that if you have not been saved by Jesus, that last line just rubbed you wrong. You are probably wanting to tell me all the reasons why I am worthy of love. You probably want to give some line about having self esteem or knowing I deserve good things. Believe me, I used to think that way too, but let me say it again... I'm not worthy of His love. Trust me on this one.
That's what makes it so amazing. A Holy and Righteous God who knows EVERYTHING I have ever done/still do. Every deed, every thought, every sin... and He loves me anyway.... I do believe that for me, knowing exactly how 'bad' I was and the dark and shameful life I lived makes this even harder to believe. But the truth is that, to God, every sin equals death if you do not believe in Jesus' sacrifice for you on the cross.
By the time I got pregnant with Rachel, I had been a Christian for about 6-7 years. I had gotten married, had 2 more beautiful children and made it through a miscarriage. We were planted in our church and I had a group of girls that I considered my friends for the first time ever in my life. I stayed home with the kids, homeschooled Des, baked and made my own wet wipes and used cloth diapers and did all that domestic stuff I always wanted to do. I loved my life and was proud of it. And I guess maybe what happened is I forgot about where I came from... I'm not sure. But what I know is that even though I still read my Bible every day and even though I was striving to live a 'good Christian life'... I was dry. I was doing all the 'right' things, but not truly living for God. And if I'm really honest, pride was taking root in my heart and I thought I needed God less and less. I planned my life out and expected Him to follow the blue print.
Rachel's diagnosis was not on it.
Yet in those moments, when I heard the worst news of my entire life, He was there. He walked us out of the ultrasound room and up to the doctors office and after we heard she would die, He peeled me up out of a puddle of tears and He carried me through until I could walk again. He didn't remind me that I had my own blue print and tell me to fend for myself.... which leads me to believe something about the closeness of God... it wasn't Him that moved closer.
It was me.
So this morning, as I listened to the words of this song, it hit me like a ton of bricks...
He used her to bring me back to Him. That's the "why". That's why the doctors don't have it. Because its much bigger than medical text books. I always knew her life had purpose. I always knew it has impacted thousands and grew God's Kingdom. I always knew that I was revived in my walk with the Lord though my heartache. But I guess I have kind of always thought that everyone else that has been touched by her life were the beneficiaries. My 'benefits' always seemed like a blessing I got along the way for being obedient to God's call on my life with Rachel's life... but not something I viewed as part of the why.
I'm not suggesting that God punished me with Rachel's death. I believe that she had anencephaly and died as a result of sin in this world, not because God was teaching me a lesson so that I won't stray from Him. But I've found great comfort in knowing that God says He uses all things for the good of those who love Him (Romans 8:28 - that was on our wedding favors...) and I know that Rachel and her death have been used by God for my good and His glory - and His great eternal purposes.
I know it sounds crazy to say that I needed God more before Rachel than after her... but what should it benefit me if I gain the whole world, but forfeit my soul? I was a lost sheep... His lost sheep...even though I appeared as though I was with the flock... and he came after me. He pursued me with such determination and love. He let me experience on a much smaller scale, what it means to love unconditionally. I love Rachel with all her 'imperfectness' more than I knew was possible... and it's just a small picture of how God loves me in all my imperfectness as His daughter. He takes my diagnosis of being "incompatible with life in heaven" and he says My love is too big for that to be the end of your story. He says I love you no matter what. He says I'll do anything to bring you home. He says you are my daughter and I will carry you to Jesus. And as He helped me to be and do all of those things for my daughter,I came to know Him much more intimately than ever before.
And it hurt. It still does. But I'm back. I'm back to total reliance on Him. My pride has been stomped on and I've been humbled. My trust in Him deeper than ever before. My surrender real. My faith proven genuine.
The last 1 1/2 minutes of this song brought me to a very sweet place of worship over a cup of coffee this morning.... tears flowing out my closed eyes...
What restores our faith in God? What reveals the Father's love? What can lead the wayward home? What can melt a heart of stone?
And there it was.... He led me to the cross. I'm not sure it would have happened without my heart being so wounded that I couldn't make it through on my own. I had nowhere else to go. Nothing else to rest on. He used my girl to bring me to my knees. As I carried that cross, He restored my faith... He revealed His love... He led me home... He broke through the hard shell I had around my heart....and rescued me from a lukewarm Christian life. By my wounds I surrendered. By my wounds I loved again, trusted Him again. By my wounds I clung to Him like never before. I clung to the Power of the Cross... the Truth that I will see Rachel again...because of His wounds... and how He used mine.
Thank You for the Cross, Jesus.....
"Mighty Is The Power Of The Cross"
Chris Tomlin
What can take a dying man and raise him up to life again? What can heal a wounded soul? What can make us white as snow? What can fill the emptiness? What can mend our brokenness? Brokenness
[Chorus:] Mighty, awesome, wonderful Is the holy cross Where the Lamb laid down His life To lift us from the fall Mighty is the power of the cross
What restores our faith in God? What reveals the Father's love? What can lead the wayward home? What can melt a heart of stone? What can free the guilty ones What can save and overcome? Overcome
[Chorus]
It's a miracle to me [2x] And It's still a mystery [2x] It's a miracle to me The power of God For those who believe
Mighty, awesome, wonderful Is the holy cross Where the Lamb laid down His life To lift us from the fall Mighty is ....... Mighty is....... Mighty is the power of the cross
Thank You for the cross [2x] Love the cross [2x] So Powerful...... ohhhhh yeahhh What can take a dying man? And raise him up to life again?
Worship You Jesus By your wounds we are healed By your wounds we are saved Mighty is the power of the cross [2x] Thank You Jesus for the Holy cross
Here's the video... listen to this when you have time, it's an amazing song.
I finished up my last post. I got ready for bed. I woke Matt up from the couch and told him to go up to bed. I took the phone and walked upstairs.
I made my way through the dark hallway and as I stepped into my bedroom (which is still without lights 10 weeks later... but that's a different story) I felt something on my hand and looked down.
I kid you not.... This purple balloon - which by the way I was up in Des' room today looking for something for over 30 minutes and never saw - literally floated INTO my hand!!!! I looked down and the string had slipped IN my hand between me and the phone! How? I have no idea. It was just there.
I looked up and saw it still high in the air.... Are you serious? I bought these balloons on November 22nd. I think that makes 21 days! I brought it downstairs to take a picture. Now Matt beat me to bed again, but I had to share....
Did you hear me when I said she was real? Just checking.
I'm being reminded that a heavenly perspective is necessary in order to see the worth of Rachel's life. And so I guess Matt is right that it's just a sad opinion, because if you believe she wasn't a real baby based on her outward appearance, then you must not believe that her soul is what made her 'real'. But it is and God makes that known to me all the time. This was one of those unbelievable moments where I am BLOWN AWAY by how loudly He speaks to me. I'm positive my words - and even my photos - don't do what just happened justice. wow. Thank you Lord for your *mercy*!
