Our Time Together

Rabbit Trails...

2010-04-03T23:46:00.000-07:00

Funny. Before I even begin this post, I side tracked. As I wrote the title.. I had to chuckle. You see, tonight is the eve of Ressurection Day... more commonly known as Easter. Get it??.. Easter.. rabbit trails.. hardy har har.

ANYWAYS...
I was caught up in the quiet of the kitchen. The boys were all sleeping, my girl was in the other room.. I finally had the peace I'd been longing for all day. I was peeling eggs for the deviled eggs and making corn muffins; just thinking about tomorrow morning. I was envisioning the boy's faces when they see their Easter baskets. Picturing them, along with my neices, and the Easter egg hunt we'll have tomorrow in the backyard >>sigh<<. Just enjoying the solitude.

Mentally, I was going over the menu for tomorrow and craving the scent of what's to come. But as I was pulling out the muffin pan, I came across the service ware that I ALWAYS use for special occasions. I received it as a wedding gift; a beautiful silver plated platter and serving spoon with a glass baking dish. Every year at Thanksgiving, usually, I use it to bake my Praline Sweet Potatoes in. I scarcely remember using it for anything else. It's a side dish I made up that is in the makings to be a tradition. We don't have many of those anymore. I sorta left those behind when I moved away; alone now to make different traditions for my little family. One of them being my Praline Sweet Potatoes, served in this particular dish.

After each use, I have to wash and carefully wrap the silver pieces so that they don't tarnish. They have a brilliant mirrored reflection where they are covered, but in the few spots that are exposed, it is darkened. But I love this piece. It's so special to me.

So as I dutifully peeled the eggs, my mind wandered back to the meal for tomorrow. Drinks: check. Napkins: check. Paper Plates: check. (yes, I said paper plates.) For some reason, this seems weird to me to have paper plates. I really don't know why. I wasn't raised using China or crystal, and in all reality, paper plates are much more practical. No fuss, no muss. I was even taking inventory of how many aluminum trays I have to make the side dishes in. Heat, eat and toss. I was thinking about how much easier it's gonna be on me to use good 'ol Chinette. Then I crossed over to the silver dish. Honestly, I didn't wanna have to unwrap the platter and unwrap the spoon... wipe it out before I use it..hand wash each piece when we're done and re-wrap it in the tissue paper that is now all wrinkled and tattered. Then it hit me. Well, more like tapped me on the shoulder.

"Then Mary took a pound of very costly oil of spikenard, anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped His feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the oil..." John 12:3

Tomorrow is the anniversary of the day my Savior conquered death. But somehow it turned into just hosting my family for Easter Dinner. Don't get me wrong, we are going to church in the morning and we will say a prayer of thanksgining before we eat. Even though I LOVE to have people over, amidst the hustle and bustle of preparations, it became a chore for me. It turned into corner cutting and second best. Oh how humbling it is to realize this.

"But Jesus said, 'Let her alone; she has kept this for the day of My burial. For the poor you have with you always, but Me

you do not have always'..." John 12:7-8

Tomorrow is a day to celebrate. I earnestly desire to celebrate the One who gave His life for me. I will remind my children of the story of Jesus' death on a cross. I will believe in Him to fill my home with His presence. I will honor Him by what I do for my family in remembrance of Him. I will worship Him by serving my sweet potatoes in my silver dish.

Here we go again... journal entry 11-30-09

2009-11-30T23:36:00.000-08:00

If I only would have realized what the hell I would be putting myself thru every year I may not have opted to wait so long to give birth to Charlotte after she died. Every stinkin' year since, I have had a really crappy first week of December. A whole week that sucks.

There is the 1st, which is the day she died and then the 7th, the day she was born. So which do I mourn for? Both.

I remember sitting at the funeral home telling the Director that I wanted to have her buried quickly because I didn't want it to drag into the Christmas holiday and forever have the attachment to Jesus' birth as being the day of my daughters' burial. I just didn't think thru that part of the suffering at that point. I was a little shell shocked.

Over the past couple of months, I've had the urge to come and update or write about the little things that reminded me of Charlotte, but I was able to resist it. A marker of *growth*, of moving on, or so I thought. Three years has come and gone and it is not nearly as difficult as it used to be.

Truth is, I didn't even want to come on tonight. I didn't want to hop on and hear that song or see those tiny fingers on the screen. It is still hard. I'm still hurting. Not wretching in pain like before, but a dull ache. I can take a deep breath now, but I also notice little girls often.

So the month of November is a big blur. I seriously feel like I have lost yet another chunk of my life. Poof! It's gone. And I can never get it back.

When I was pregnant with Charlotte, I was 31. It was a rough year. I finally came out of my fog at 33, almost 34. That's two whole years I feel like I just floated right thru. I remember some things that happened in the 2 years since she has been gone, but for the most part, I feel like I'm just now picking myself up and dusting my ass off. I was stunned. I guess that's the best way I could put it.

This month, my oldest daughter became very ill. So ill that she'd spent almost 2 weeks in the hospital. The doctors didn't know what was happening with her and one doctor rold me that they didn't know why she hadn't died. It was that serious. They considered leukemia, and drew out some of her bone marrow. It was a very scary time. They have since determined it to be a blood disorder (possibly hereditary). And although I'm relieved to know what it is.. so many emotions have washed over me. She seems to be healing really well now and I'm so thankful for that. So there is no logical reason for me to be freaking out. But I do from time to time.

She was in the hospital twice. Once for a week and the other for 5 days. The doctors sent us home on November 11th, at that time without a proper diagnosis. (We didn't get that until later). And the sad thing is.. all I could think about was how on November 11th (2006), I was sent home from an ultrasound appointment with hopeful news that Charlotte would be ok. That all of her problems had *cleared up*.

Then she died on December 1st.

When *A* and I left the hospital on this November 11th, I was terrified of the next 2 weeks. And tonight, I'm afraid of tomorrow morning. Maybe I'll pull an all nighter and not go to sleep. Then I won't have to wake up to December 1st all over again. I've got 6 minutes to go....

Finally figuring things out...

2009-08-26T17:19:00.000-07:00

Ok, so it's taken me a while to figure out how to do this.. but I'm attempting to link my two blogs together. Let's see if it works.

Journal Entry: July 26, 2009 Undeniable Kisses

2009-07-26T23:08:00.000-07:00

Today the family made the drive out to the Bay to meet up with our old home church. They were hosting a conferece and *B* and I both felt the need to be washed in the Word again in the way that only Pastor Joe can. Words don't adequately describe the feeling of being back with our brothers and sisters in Christ. Those that were there in the early years, and even later, throughout our ordeal with Charlotte.

The people of Christ Bible Church are like family to us. For a period of time, before we had any of our blood family living near us, our church family was our all in all. It really felt like aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers and sisters would gather every Sunday, and even mid-week for Bibile studies, to study, and pray and worship the living God. And on the holidays like Thanksgiving and Easter, it felt weird to not be with them for our holiday meals. We've really missed them since moving from that church to our new home church. But we still keep in touch via a webserver and emails and even phone calls >>gasp!<<. These people will always hold a special place in our hearts.

They all marveled at how much the boys have grown and were introduced to Lucas for the first time. *B* and I were both so proud to show him off. But once the semon was starting, I retreated into the nursery with the baby. In ther was a small framed woman I had never met. I wasn't sure who she was or who she may have been with, but she had the cutest, chubbiest baby girl on her lap. Come to find out, the baby was her neice and only 10 months old. The woman herself had big puffy, puckered lips. The kind that hide a mouth with no teeth. She was pretty quiet, except for when she would lay a big kiss ontop of the baby's head, or on her pudgy cheeks.

I later realized who this woman was. The wife of a very kindhearted man, whom we as a church had prayed for years for. If I recall correctly, this woman had issues with drugs and alcohol and sexual promiscuity and had been estranged from her husband and children for a very long time. But her husband was faithful, and fervently had been praying for her to return to him and God. I was pretty excited to see her sitting there at church after all these years, but I didn't dare tell her that I already knew her. She made it clear to me that she wasn't a member of the church and only there visiting with her husband. But hey! She was there... WITH her HUSBAND!!!

Anyway, throughout the sermon, she would touch the baby and speak to her in a non-motherly way. Kind of abrupt, not mean, but just not tenderly. "Don't touch this, put that down, go to sleep..." But every so often, I would see her, out of the corner of my eye, bend close to the baby and kiss her on top of her head. She never said "I love you" or "Pretty girl" or any of the things you say to an adorable baby. Rather, she would just give a quick smooch to her without any emotion. It was kind of odd, and she did it a lot. I was almost like her lips were magnets and she couldn't help but be drawn to the infant.

I spent most of the hour in the room with her, and while she sat rocking the little girl, I sat rocking my little boy. At one point, I caught myself gazing at Lucas and wondering if Charlotte would have looked much the same as him. They had similar hair and his nose looked a little like hers. I hardly ever do that... compare the two. But Pastor Joe had said something and I was caught in a reflection of the time "back then".

My thought were suspended by a "smack" sound of yet another kiss from the woman to the baby. And in that moment I realized that we ARE drawn to kiss babies, and that I was just as drawn to kiss Charlotte even though she was dead. I was able to kiss that sweet little girl on the face and the top of her head and I couldn't help myself. She was still warm after she was delivered, almost like a living child, and I touched my face to hers.

I now regret not staying in that moment in letting my lips linger on her, but honestly, she scared me. Afterall, she was gone and her condition wasn't the best. But today I started to feel so bad that *B* never kissed his daughter. Hello or goodbye. He really missed something.

So that memory came up out of nowhere, but it was a good one. I could almost feel her again. And it was all prompted by little kisses.

Journal Entry: April 8, 2009

2009-04-08T22:14:00.000-07:00

"You shall have a perfect and just weight, a perfect and just measure, that your days may be lengthened in the land which

the LORD your God is giving you..." Deut 25:15

***

"Watch, stand fast in the faith, be brave... be strong.

Let all that you do be done with love..." 1 Corinth 16:13,14

"Rejoice, O young man, in your youth and let your heart cheer you..." Eccl 11:9

I really don't know how such tiny and fragile bones can withstand so much pressure. My hugs and kisses on this child have got to be heavy. But he humors me. Allows me to brush my lips against his cheek and bury my nose into his neck. He snuggles in close and releases a sigh as if he knows. He just knows.

I didn't know how much I would marvel.
Or love.
Or cry over him. But I have.
And it feels good.

I wondered if I would ever have that feeling again. Of it feeling good to cry over the beauty of God's creation. I've spent 2 years crying over the beauty, but it didn't feel good at all. So many things have just melted away. I don't even have the words to describe what those *things* are. They're just gone though. I don't know if they'll come back someday, or if they are gone for good.

After we came home with Lucas, I found myself nuzzled up to him one evening in my "mama-bear" chair settling in to nurse him. *B* and I had already gone thru each child, parent, aunt and uncle, customarily compairing them to Lucas, he has the forehead, the dimples, the sideways smile. All attributes of someone else. But the only thing we could see that he has of Charlotte's is her hair. She had a lot of it too. But this night, I was determined to find more. Not so much to link him to us.. but to keep her linked to us.

I'd reached over to the shelf behind me and started thumbing through her book. Looking at each picture, I was secretly hoping to recognize the smallest of details, to see them in living form on Lucas. *B* was sitting across from me, I thought just watching the game, or whatever was on. My scavenger hunt was interrupted by him saying that he looked through the book the night before.

I was busted. But so was he. Funny how our pride got in the way for both of us. Neither one wanted to admit that we still miss her. But at least we are on the same page about it. We haven't forgotten.

So now I've been tossing around the idea of moving onto another blog page, just to continue my writing. This one is too familiar to me. Raw sometimes. Emotional. My electronic diary of sorts. Which is still ok, but this page is outgrowing it's original purpose and there have been plenty of growing pains along the way.

It's original purpose was to document things pertaining to Charlotte. I don't want to now clutter it up with random postings about my day to day life; that's not setting it apart for her. So I think I will revert to my old blog... "Full Circle". But this will be my safe place to come to remember Charlotte, or to write about her.

I feel like I'm folding away a blanket. Something warm and safe that I've used to wrap myself up in for security. But I know where to find it if I need it. Sitting on the shelf right where I'm leaving it.

Journal Entry: March 23, 2009 I don't even know what day it is

2009-03-22T19:05:00.001-07:00

I had to check the date as I sat to type tonight. All of my days have seemingly run together, or should I say seemlessly run together. All I know is that I had one heck of a week starting last Sunday, which hasn't left me with much expendable energy, but a very full heart.

As I mentioned on my last post, the boys got sick and subsequently pulled a number that required a trip to the ER. After that, I thought all I had to do is prepare for Tuesday's doctor's appointment and relax as much as possible. I double checked my bag and started a load of laundry.

Tuesday morning rolled around and after I took the boys to school, I came come to take a shower and get ready for my appt. As I pulled into my driveway, I noticed that my neighbor was outside leaving for work himself. This is the same neighbor that I saw at the doctor's office when I was pregnant with Charlotte the day she died. I looked over my shoulder and walked as fast as I could into the house. I didn't want to linger or make conversation, we were too close to bringing home baby to mentally *go there*. But I did notice.

I ended up being late to my pre-op appointment, so the NST nurse called me in the back to get that started insted. I was hooked up for about 20-25 minutes and things were great. Baby's heart rate fluctuated but was at a normal pace. I was daydreaming about labor and delivery, just waiting for the doctor to come in and say that I could go into the hospital when ever I was ready and that they would start the induction when I arrived. The nurse Sandy and I chatted about the contractions I was having and how it was strange that I could barely feel some of them. But they were becoming regular at about 3 minutes apart. It was getting exciting. Maybe I wouldn't even need pitocin? I was going on my own. Then, literally all of the sudden, Baby's heart rate plummeted. I had been trying not to look at the monitors because of the uneasy feeling it gives me (I get to stressed with every variation, so I just don't look). But Sandy was looking. Then I was looking.

Sandy was really quick to get me to shift to my side. But the monitor kept sliding. It went from the 160's to around 112 then 98 then... bleep. Nothing. I shifted again. Still nothing. She left to get the doctor. Ok, now I'm nervous. More shifting, more silence. Three minutes of total silence to be exact. Looking back, I had no idea it was that long. A moment later he came back. His heart rate steadily climbed back up to the 120's, then the 150's then he was cruising at 163 for a while. Dr. T came back in and said that there wasn't anyway that we were gonna mess around, she was going to order an ambulance and I could call *B* and tell him to meet us at the hospital.

Oh my gosh, not again!

When I called *B* his buddies from work were whoopin' and hollerin' in the background thinking that wah hoo... I'm having a baby! But nope. I was making a call to tell him that the baby crashed and he needed to come home. again. I'm going to the hospital to have a baby...in an ambulance..again.

I think it was at this point that I began to pray. I asked the Lord to give me peace, the kind that surpasses all understanding and to hold this baby in the palm of his hand. That you Lord, are the One whom I trust, and I am not going to even entertain the thoughts that something bad will happen. Nope. You have this undercontrol and I trust in You.

The ambulance arrived and off we went. I didn't get the full monte of the sirens 'n stuff, but that was ok. We didn't really need 'em. I just knew we were going to be ok.

I was admitted, *B* arrived and I was started on pitocin. By this time I had texted a few friends asking for prayer and got settled into my bed. Lori texted me to say she was at the hospital and waiting in the lobby. She came in and sat with us for a while, it was nice to have a friend there. She was so helpful. By this time it was about 2 o'clock, the boys were being picked up by my sister and *A* was on her way home from school. Lori ended up driving to the house to let *A* in and on her way back, she picked up a pizza for *B*. Meanwhile, I realized that it was kind of uncomfortable kind of reclining in that position, so I decided to stand. I felt so much better! I stayed that way for a few hours. I would sway or arch my back for relief, but then back to standing. Becky and Kim also arrived which made the time pass much quicker. I thought I was making progress being dialated at 1-2 when I arrived to maybe a 2-3 by 6pm. But then a new doctor came on shift and said that I was really only at a 2 and not effaced very much.

At about 7pm, I got another text. It was from *A*. I was torn about not being able to go to the soccer game she was playing in but I ended up not really having a choice. But the game had started at 6:30, so why was I getting a message from her at 7pm??

In her text, she said that she was on her way to the hospital because she thought she broke her knuckle. ugh. Apparently, she slipped on the field and another player stepped on her hand with her cleat. A school administrator was heading to the ER with her. I had to speak with him and ask him to take her to my sister's house instead, as I was in labor at the hospital out of town. He agreed and *A* went to Jenni's house. When they arrived at the hospital, *B* met *A* in the ER and waited with her there. We were directly 3 floors apart. Them in ER and me in L&D. Man! This baby's born into one whirlwind of a family!

Becky and Kim were still there, now so was my sister. It was pretty cool. But I got so discouraged. I thought for sure they were going to come in and tell me that the stress of laboring that long wasn't good for the baby and I would require a C section anyway. We were pushing 10 hours already and I was only at 2cm?? Ok, I suppose I'll take my epidural now. I felt so weak. Might as well. I mean, in case I would have a cesarean I would have to get one anyway, what's the point of waiting? Everyone left the room. *A* and my sister decided to get a soda. When they returned, Jenni said she was gonna leave (afterall, it was surely going to be a long night, it was already about 11:30 or so) but I told her to let the nurse know that my water had just broke. Well then things got fun! Finally.. something was happening!

When the nurse came in to check me I was at a 4 and 80%. Yay! Progress.

So Jenni took *A* to Del Taco. In the meantime, I had two more gushes and 2 more checks. As they walked back into the room with food in tow, the nurse said I was at an 8 and only a lip of cervix was left. She rolled me onto that side and called the doctor. By this point, I was in a LOT of pain. I had a pump for the epidural, but a lot of good that did. I could feel everything in my body EXCEPT the cramping in my belly. All other lower parts were fair game. The nurse Susan kept telling me to wait to push until the doctor arrived, but I didn't think I could. Finally, he showed up but was a little lax in getting over to me. At one point a nurse said "Doctor, you're about to miss your delivery..." then I knew it was close. My time was at hand. He stood in front of me and I was begging Brian to pray. I remember at one point yelling at him to pray and he said he was. But I wanted him to be praying out loud. I looked back at the doctor and said "he's coming... it's so hot.. oh my gosh, I need to push.. this s#*t hurts!" "So push" the doctor said pretty casually.

And push I did.

One big grunt and I heard the nurse say.. "well, there's your son". Apparently *L*'s head just popped right out. There was no one, two, three...one two three... two steps forward, one step back stuff. Right after she said that the doctor said "Stop pushing! The cord is around his neck." (twice, actually). I looked over at my sister, her eyes were bulging as she was holding her breath, tears were streaming down her face. I could feel everyone's tension. I know that it probably wasn't the best idea, and I should have listened to the doctor, but I wasn't about to have another baby die inside of me. I gave it one more big push and he was out. All in all, it totaled just two pushes but it seemed like a long time before everyone was able to take a deep breath of relief. But *L* was screaming, which was music to my ears. They laid him on me and I couldn't believe it. He is here. Alive. Screaming. Looking at me.

He is beautiful. He was so pink and chubby. He has a head full of dark wavy hair.

As the doctor was checking me out and stitching me up, I looked at *A*. It was so sad and so beautiful all at the same time. She was sitting in the chair near my head with her face in her hands, bawling. Inconsolable. She would only acknowledge me by shaking her head "no" when I asked her to come over to me. I repeatedly asked her and every time she said no. I wanted her by my side. But she wouldn't come. I know it was just too much. The memory of her sister, the stress of the delivery, the fear of what was happening to me (because I was in so much pain), the joy of meeting her bother. It all came to a head. She had no other outlet than her tears.

They weighed him and took his apgar scores which were 8 and 9. He was so chunky. He weighed in at 8 pounds and 9 ounces and is 21 1/4 inches long. The longest of any of 'em. Second in weight. He has a head full of beautiful dark hair and a deep dimple in his cheek.

Right away I noticed how much he resembled *A* when she was born. There is such a sweetness about him. I'm in love.

Journal Entry: March 16th, 2009 It feels like Christmas Eve

2009-03-16T23:19:00.000-07:00

I remember Christmas Eve at our house as a child. Well, technically, we never held the celebration at our house, we always went to our great grandparent's house where the whole family would gather. Aunts, uncles, cousins. It was usually the only time of the year that we saw some of our distant family, but it never felt like that long had passed since we last saw each other. How funny it is to me now though, there was one cousin in particular that was there every year, that I never knew was a cousin. As a child, he was always "just there" to me. I thought he was a family friend. haha.

But no matter how long we would stay at gramma's house, or how much good food there was or whatever gifts we recieved from our family that night, my sister and I always looked forward to going home. It was when we got home late that night that our parents would let us pick out *just one* present from under the tree to open before we went to bed.

Now, my mom told me, just this last Christmas, that she always orchestrated the gift to be the pajamas we were to wear that night. But I don't remember it that way at all. I don't remember WHAT we got, I just remember the anticipation and excitement of getting to open a gift of our choosing, with the promise of more to come in the morning. I do remember being disappointed a time or two in not getting whatever it was I thought I deserved or wanted as a gift...but obviously it didn't matter what the gift turned out to be... as now I can't even remember what they were. It was always special to pick out that one gift.

My sister and I would have this *deal* every year. We would sleep together in the same bedroom and made a pact that whoever woke up first in the morning had to wake up the other one right away. We couldn't go out and get a jump start on opening presents. We had to wait for each other. The irony in this NOW, as adult women, we seenm to be doing that with our lives still. But now it's with our children. We each have 3 living children right now. Two girls that are 4 months apart and stairstepped cousins. I've got the boys, she's got the girls. Between us we have two 15 yr olds, a 7, 6, 5 and 4 yr old. Then of course, there was Charlotte, and my sis got pregnant and lost a baby right after her. Now I am about to pop and she found out she is alomost 7 weeks pregnant.

We never have planned it that way, it just happens. It is pretty cool though. I'm sure she would agree, this does feel ike Christmas Eve all over again, just like when we were kids. She's going to be in the room to meet little man with me and I know she's excited. It's like peeking into the package a little early for her too.

But this afternoon wasn't so much fun.

My plan was to take it easy, finish up the laundry, relax and wait for nightfall. But somewhere along the lines, plans changed. *M* got sick at church on Sunday (threw up in Sunday school class) and was pretty lethargic all day Monday. *Z* was also not feeling good so I kept 'em both home with me. I had woken up at about 3am with some pretty heavy contractions, thinking that maybe this was it. After a while, I got out of bed, figuring that if they were the real deal then they would intensify and I'd know sooner rather than later. Well, after doing the dishes, cleaning up the kitchen and folding laundry, the contractions slowed down. By 5 o'clock, both boys woke up and wanted cuddle time. I snuggled 'em and got their breakfast together (well, not *M's* he was still not feeling well) and finished up my chores. By this time it was almost 8am. I was beginning to feel exhausted. I called my mom and asked her if she could either come over and sit with the boys or run to the store for me. We needed more 7Up and crackers. She said she would but it woun't be for a while. >>yawn<<. ok.

Then both boys said they were sleepy and wanted to lay back down. Cool. So they had their blankies and cartoons on low.. the living room was dark and I headed off to my room. An hour or so later, my mom calls back to tell me she's on her way over with the stuff. I sit up and notice my bedroom door is closed. humpf. Just then, both guys came n my room, climbed into my bed and told me that they ate all of the "yummy cherry medicine". I had no idea what they were talking about. I knew we were out of the chewable children's acetominiophen, that's what grandma was also buying... so I assumed they meant they ate some cough drops.

Well, we keep the medicine in the kitchen really high up in a tin box. So this means that they were climbing. And scavenging. Arrgggg...

When I made my way into the kitchen to survey the damage, I noticed they somehow found a box of Childrens Triaminic Soft Chews for runny nose and cough. I didn't even know they were in there! Well apparently, big brother thought these would be good for them and doled them out to his little brother and himself. The problem? I don't know how many were in the box to begin with. It said 18, but there was clearly less than that. When I asked them (meaning interrogated them) as to how many they ate, the older said he had 4 and younger ate 5. Well, I could only find 3 wrappers. So when I asked a second time.. he said he had 2 and brother had 2. Still isn't adding up.

So I kept my eye on them both, figuring they would get sleepy for sure. And like clockwork, they settled down. But while little one was sleeping, he sat upright and spit! I told him to not spit on mommy's couch and he just looked at me funny. Shortly after that he started babbling and not making any sense. He stared off into space. It was creepy. But I honestly couldn't tell if he was still asleep or if he was doped up. So I read the box and see that a regular dose is 2 tablets. But still. I don't know for sure how many he ate.

I couldn't find the number for poision control, and I already have the doctors number memorized, so I just called the advice nurse. I was so irritated by this point because you have to go thru a series of automated responses and verifications before you can actually SPEAK to a nurse. Arrggg... again.

When I finally got a live one, she went thru another series of questions that were prompted by the computer. You can just tell. Well, I was getting really annoyed when she finally told me to hold on. This whole process was taking like 20 minutes. She spoke to a doctor and got back on the phone and told me he said to take both boys into the ER. That's when I lost it and started crying. How the heck was I supposed to carry them into the ER? I'm huge! I called *B* and he said he couldn't get here in time. I had to go by myself. It would take him at least 2 hours to get here. More tears... of frustration mostly, but a little bit of fear mixed in too.

So we made it to the ER. Nurse come out for triage and another takes the box I brought and calls Poision Control. Comes back and says that it would take 10x the amount of medication to have any toxic levels in the boy's blood. They would be fine. Whew! But still, go in the back to see the Doc.

He comes in, does a once over on each of the boys and goes to call Poision Control at the nurse's station. Meanwhile *B* shows up. Doc comes back in and says they will be fine. Discharges us. A receptionist comes in and asks for payment. $100. Just for two freaking phone calls to poision control??? I coulda/shoulda done that myself and saved a penny.. or a thousand!!! I was not a happy mommy today. So much for getting things done.

I capped the night off by heading to Bass Pro Shops to walk around. I'm wanting to encourage this guy to stay head down until tomorrow. But even that has come wth a price. I bought fudge for me and *A* , had a bag of coated pecans, stopped at AM/PM for crunchy ice and Cheetos and grabbed an apple juice too. What a pig. lol.

But tonight I'm feeling that rush of excitment and anticipation all over again as it is the eve of a birthday for my child. I hope that at tomorrow's Dr appt I will find that he is still head down and ready to be induced. And although I am not looking forward to an induction, I am even less happy about the possibility of having a c-section. My life is too chaotic to have to stop and slow down after surgery. Not to mention I'm scared of getting cut open. But there is so much I am responsible for in the day to day running of our household that I think it would make things so much harder on me to have *extra* healing to do. There have been many offers of support and help, but I feel funny having people do SO much for us. Pride? maybe.

So here I sit.. waiting.. just like I used to do for Santa to come. But this time the jolly little man will be much smaller. ::wink:wink::

Journal Entry: March 5th, 2009 A Date with Destiny...

2009-03-05T22:34:00.000-08:00

More appointments. Blah blah blah. We've hit the ground running with the non-stress tests (NSTs). They strap me up to a monitor to check heart rate and activity levels. And every other appointment we get an ultrasound to check fluid levels. hummm.... not so much "fun" but reassurance is seldom met with excitement. Usually it's met with fear and/or trepidation. It's kinda like a pass or fail test. Today's visit was no exception. BUT... when the reassurance of a beating heart was heard and seen, smiles ensued. I can't believe I'm still getting worried about this.

I was much more at ease in walking into that room today because I had just come out of my regualr appt with Dr. "T". I really appreciate how she seems to be prepared when she speaks with me. She had already talked with the Perinatologist about a plan of action so I was able to get some questions answered. The last being "NO" to the question if I wanted to have my tubes tied, should I have a C section. Let "B" go in and get snippity snipped. I ain't doing it.

She told me that they've agreed to not allow me to go past 39 weeks. And that if Little Man is still breech that we'll do a C section. A giant wall calendar was hanging directly across from the exam table I was sitting on and it practically glowed for me. Holy Smokes! That's 13 days from now!! Wah-hoo!!

She offered me the option of trying a version before then, where the docs manually try to move the baby to a head down position. Uh, no thanks. I've looked into that on my own and... um...no. Too risky, too painful.

So she then said we'll proceed with a planned cesarean but if when we get there we find (via ultrasound) that he is infact head down.. then I'll be given pitocin to induce labor so he won't have a chance to flop again. Sounds good to me.

But if I go into labor on my own.. that's ok too. I'd rather have that happen. Pitocin is like snake venom. Evil stuff. So the plan now is to sit and wait and know there is an end in sight . It's exciting to KNOW I have an eviction date set. I'm still leery about a c-section, but I'll get over it, I'm sure. If not, I'll ask for a sedative. lol.

Last week was the first NST. It came on the heels of the 37 week mark. Ugh. I was called into the same room where Charlotte had died. Strapped onto the same bed. Staring at the same monitor.

I was fine... until the nurse turned on the machine. whomp, whomp, whomp...::sigh:: there he is. Ok. then the tears came rolling. I picked up the lower half of my XXXXXXXL shirt and covered my face. The poor attending nurse had no idea what was going on. I didn't go into hysterics or anything.. but it was hard. Really hard. She asked if I was ok, I didn't want to be overly dramatic, yet I didn't want to be so passe that it may make her think it wasn't important to me. So I just said I was ok, I was emotional because my daughter was stillborn and that testing just brings up memories for me. I dried my face and held my breath until the last hanging tear fell.

On with it.

He had a good/strong rhythm and was moving around a ton. whew. 25 more minutes of it and I could leave.

Now every third day I have to go back.

So anyways, today I had noticed that *L* is more quiet than usual. Even this morning, he didn't greet me with his big rolls, turns and jabs... insted, he'd twitch and bump. But at least there was something. I kept wondering if I was being spoken to. Was the Lord gonna tell me again that my child was going home that day? Or would He not allow me to find that out until I was already strapped in? I went about my day, trying not to pay too much attention to him, trying not to jinx myself. Then a cramp came and stayed for a long while. It wouldn't release, but when it finally did, I took notice of his activity again. Still, little movements, bubbles. Not much else can describe it. But I'll take it.

My appt was late this afternoon.
Note to self: I weigh more at the end of the day. lol.

My fluid also fluctuated by one point or whatever they use to measure it. Good. The whole appointment was just so much more than I wanted to deal with today. I wanted to take a nap.
There was such a mix of emotions. There was excitement. Relief. A little anxiety. Smiles.

So now we have a date with destiny. Can't wait to meet you Little One. I love you more than you know.

Journal Entry: February 21, 2009 We made it to December...

2009-02-21T22:41:00.000-08:00

Ever have one of those days where all you want to do is be alone? That's how I felt for the majority of today. It's Saturday and I was really hoping that more house work would have been done. But the whole family has been pretty lazy today.. well, with the exception of the boys. It was the first time in a long while that I let them go outside to play. So, they ran and jumpd and biked their little hearts out.

I was finnishing up with all of the prep work for the baby shower tomorrow. Making dips, cutting bread.. trying a new jello recipe. You know, big stuff. But deep down, there was a part of me that just couldn't WAIT to get to tonight to write out my heart and cry a bit, without all of the distractions of the family. And even now... I've irritated "A" with the ferocity of with which I am typing. She hates when I'm on the computer. I'm annoying her. What-ev. I wish she'd just go to bed so I could be alone.

I decided early on this morning to make today a really kick back day. I've been having contractions a lot and thought it would be a good idea for me to take it really easy and nap and eat when I wanted. So I did.

I woke up around 5pm or so and thought to myself... "We made it to December...we made it to December!!" I parked the car, briskly walked into the doctor's office, checked in, noticed a friend of mine was in the lobby and then my neighbor passed by. He mentioned how pregnancy looks good on me, asked me to let he and his wife know when things start to happen. About 20 minutes later, my world stopped spinning. That was the day Charlotte died. She was exactly 36 weeks along. Tomorrow I will yet again be 36 weeks along.

It's funny, some of the things that get me going. I've know that tomorrow is a mirror of 2 years ago. Even tonight.. I sat folding the laundry for Little Man and began putting it away. Just like I did the night before that damn doctor's appointment. But this time there was a sea of blue instead of pink around me. Last time I had just sorted out all of the pretty little clothes and divided them according to size. I had gone to the mall with Kim and when I got home I figured I should start to get Charlotte's things in order. First on the list was the laundry.

"B" came in just as I was waking up and noticed that I was laying still, staring off into the closet. He aksed if I was alright. I told him that Charlotte died at 36 weeks and tomorrow Lucas will be 36 weeks. "So... you're freaking out a little bit?" was all he could say. I really didn't want him to say anymore anyway. He's not known to be very sensitive.

I eventually sat up and started folding clothes again. I told him that people are going to start forgetting her now. "Who is? Jesus?" No dumbass. He won't. He can't. Her name is punctured into the palms of His hands. "WHO? Are you?" he follows up. (You know.. sometimes I really can't tell if he's asking or provoking me).

Me. Yes, me ok? I am starting to forget! I'm starting to forget her. How she felt. How she looked. HOw she smelled. But what I am remembering is that we FREAKIN' made it to December when no one thought we would. When they told me everything was going to be ok and it wasn't! That's what I do remember!!

I remember taking a shower that morning and the Lord impressing upon my heart that she was going to go to Him that day. I remember that bitch of a nurse in the office that wouldn't get me my juice fast enough so I could get Chralotte to move some more. I remember having to call my husband who was working 60 miles away to tell him our daughter died. I remember the bumpy ambulance ride to the hospital and waiting for "B" to show up at the hospital so I wouldn't be alone...and the STUPID freaking EMT that was trying to make small talk on the way there.

Yeah, I remember.

So tomorrow is supposed to be a good day. But I keep thinking of the verse in Luke 12:20...
But God said to him, 'Fool! This night your soul will be required of you; then whose will those things be which you have provided?'

What else is He going to ask me for? Lucas too?? I can't I can't give Him that. Not again. If I just stay up tonight, He can't tell me this in the morning. I know that's not how things work. But I'm just wanting Lucas to be here. Alive. Breathing. Looking at me. Even now.. he's bumping around inside me. Letting me know he's alright.

God, I'm gonna look like crap tomorrow. Deep sigh. I guess I'm off to bed. Or maybe I'll read the Word a bit. I really should get some clarity and peace.

Journal Entry: February 11th, 2009: Forty Days and Forty Nights

2009-02-11T05:08:00.000-08:00

I thought this could be an approproate title as that's what I've got left. *Technically* he is due in 40 days, but I seriously doubt if he'll wait that long. (But don't all pregnant women think they will delivery early for one reason or another?) Forty days as well as high amniotic fluid levels.. hum.. a deluge of torrential waters? This is the mental picture I have of when my water breaks. Partially I think this because of what it was like delivering Charlotte. Her fluid levels were less than what his are now... and there was so much water. Even my midwife joked that rain boots are gonna come in handy for this one. I'm thinking more like hip-waders. This is what I do.. try to make light of the situation, hardy har har. It's not so bad if you can still laugh at it, right?

Fact of the matter is.. I shouldn't be so darn quick to research everthing online. Cyberspace is a scarrey place to be if your not tethered to an anchor. And you better make sure your anchor is heavier than you are so you can't drag it.

My last appointment was kinda weird. Not bad, just weird.

I haven't gained any weight from weeks 31 to 34 (ok, maybe 4 ounces or so... seriously) but I began measuring bigger. Like at 37 weeks. Hmmm... the possibilities are because he was breech/transverse still so that threw things off, or there is a lot of fluid, or he is going to be really big. My anxiety kicked in when I realized that because of his position (laying sideways) there is a possibility of cord prolapse... meaning his umbilical cord could come out first and cut off oxygen and blood to him. And wouldn't ya know it.. having high fluid levels has an increased chance of this happening too. humpf! I think of it like flushing the toilet. Once the process starts, you can't really stop it. And from what I've read.. time is of the essence. Literally maybe minutes before something can go terribly wrong. I really should stop reading.

So yesterday I had an ultrasound to check things out. Good news? His head is down. For how long, I don't know. Hopefully for the duration. But there is a lot of fluid (high ranges from 19-25 and I'm at 24.92) so he could very well swish and slide around some more. But hopefully.. because his head is apparently really big (measuring at 37 weeks) it will plug things up if my water breaks and I'm not at the hospital. But I have been advised that if it does rupture I have to go in immediately. No waiting around to finish up the dishes like I did with "M", I guess. lol. What freaks me out though is how much water there was with Charlotte, and her levels were only at 19-20, if I remember correctly. She shot out like a cannon. I hope I'm at the hospital safely if this should be the case again.

There are more really scarrey things that can happen to me with the fluid being high, but I don't really want to write about them now. It makes it more real and I'm going to keep as positive as I can. I've also read ::blush:: that I peak at 34 weeks with the fluid and there is a chance of it decreasing. I am going to really try to limit my sugars and salt intake, hoping that will make a difference in my retention and release. I don't get it though.. I already have to pee every hour or so. Now.. his big head is an issue. Not that the doctors have said anything yet, but I'm thinking... it's gonna hurt! My midwife said something about having to speak to a Perinatologist. Don't know if that's a good or bad thing. A planned c-section is sounding better and better. I am in no mood to risk anything ever again.

Three weeks ago I was taking a bunch of baby stuff to a buy-back store. It is really insulting to go in there, hand them your stuff and wait as they pick at it to see if it's worthy enough to re-sell. They only give you pennies on the dollar for what you bring in, but I wasn't having much luck with Craigslist and ebay and I wanted this stuff out. Well, they weren't opened yet, so I drove around for a bit. I ended up going to a 4D ultrasound business to maybe get a quick picture of the baby.

I parked the car and began to pray. I knew that the price of a package was out of my league so I was asking God to be merciful and allow me to be bold and ask for a discount. I could pay a little bit, and afterall, I didn't want a full session. Just a picture of his face. Well, when I walked in, there were 2 women at the desk. One was on the phone and the other asked how to help. I told her that I was wanting to get just a picture of his face (I must have said that like 4 times.. "just his face") but was wondering if they could accommodate my budget.

I told her how far along I was and that I don't want a dvd of him moving around, I just want to "see his face", today, while he is alive. I felt salty water filling my eyes when I realized what I was saying and that I had missed the opportunity to do this with Charlotte. The woman walked me in the back room and asked what was wrong. I felt so stupid. I have been pretty good about keeping tears in check when I talk about her, most of the time I'm fine. But other times, it creeps up on me then it's too late. They spill over. Then it's awkward for everyone.

But this woman was very compassionate. I told her that a dvd wouldn't be a good idea for me (I have a tendancy to obsess, oh... really???lol) but I *just wanted to see his face*. She ended up introducing herself to me as the Owner of the place, told me to lie down and relax.

I mentioned to her what Charlottes' problems were (T18 related) and she said her sister in law had a daughter who passed away from that. It was a serene experience to see this little baby boy up on the screen, but even though I was there for that very reason, I was so scared to look at the monitor. When she printed out a few pictures, I felt better, but to turn and look at the screen, it was almost too much. I felt this way yesterday during the ultrasound too. Just one of those things I guess. We talked about the Lord and how He is in control. It was such a blessing to be there that day.

She also said that he has a really thick cord, which is a good thing. And she said his nose isn't as big as I think it is. Yeah, we'll see. After she gave me about 6 pictures she walked me out to the lobby and gave me a little gift/diaper bag with samples and coupons in it. Then she turned to her receptionist and said "no charge". God is indeed gracious.

Jurnal Entry: January 15, 2009 Cleaning out the closet

2009-01-15T22:54:00.000-08:00

I figured today was as good as any to get the things done around the house that I had been putting off for so long. I decided it was time to delve into the closet and go thru Charlotte's things.

This closet is big. So big that I had considered transforming it into a mini nursery for this baby. And in it, is housed some things from all of my children. I have *A's* clothes and shoes and junk in there, the boys' tubs for seasonal clothing... as well as special baby blankets, this new baby's bags of wet wipes and clothes.... and about 10 boxes of clothing and bedding that were intended for Charlotte. One of the hardest things about going into that space (aside from the sheer volume of crap that is in there because of *A's* disinterest in keeping things tidy) is the markings of a name of a little sister, by a big sister, that will never be.

At some point during my pregnancy, *A* had written in magenta crayon on one of the shelves where the baby clothes were to be kept the word "Charlet". I hadn't ever considered spelling her name like that, but looking at it that way is so endearing to me now. I've left it there, despite the fact that's now the shelf for the boy's things. Every once in a while I'll go in looking for the next size up in play clothes and come across that inscription. It stops me in my tracks every time. You'd think I would be used to seeing it, but every time I do, it's like the first time her name has been whispered to me. I have to stand still and quiet to take it all in.

Well today I didn't go to that shelf (half way purposefully) but turned my attention to the boxes stacked behind me. About a week after she was gone, I had started to organize everything. I took out what I wanted, little things that were reserved *only Charlotte's*, some that I would love to see another daughter of mine wear, and some that I definitely could part with. Then I folded them all neatly and put them away. Could I really part with any of them? I mean, they've been in the closet for 2 whopping years already!

There were small things I did let go. Some blankets & outfits/sleepers that I gave to my nieces for their baby dolls (who still hold them dear as Charlotte's things) and some I gave to teen moms. But still, there are all of these boxes. At this point, they are taking up a lot of space I am needing to get this baby's stuff organized. So down they came.

I had already gone thru them and sorted them according to size. But today I was going to catalog them and take pictures to place them on Ebay or whatnot. I did it 2 boxes at a time. Layed each little outfit on my bed, starting with the larger sizes first. It was bitter sweet. I remember looking at all of these things for the first time two years ago and getting so excited because (at that point in time) we were told the ultrasounds were all clear. I couldn't wait to put my little girl in some of these outfits. It seemed as though God was reassuring us that everything was going to be ok. He provided above and beyond what we needed for her. I got excited all over again the night before our Level 2 ultrasound with this baby. I was SO SURE he was a she.

I'm glad I went thru them starting with the bigger sizes first, because it was getting hard for me to see all of the small things. The tiny mittens she wouldn't wear, the headbands with little bows on 'em... the awesome red coat. I put away what I could, but there's still more for me to do tomorrow.

I got a little teary thinking about how she didn't get to wear these things. And even more teary as I realized I probably won't ever get to put a daughter of mine in them. The boys would come in and out of my bedroom and ask what all of it was. They kept asking if the new baby would wear them. Uh, no buddy, wrong color.

So as I went in to download the pictures, I took a deep breath. I saw the ultrasound pictures. He is definitely a boy. Time to let the clothes go. But as the pictures were being loaded into the folder, I noticed it said there were 450 pictures transferring. WTH??? I know I didn't take that many!

So as I watched them surface, I was struck by what they were of. They were the birth of my friend's daughter Olivianna. I thought I was certain to have deleted all of the images after I gave them to my friend, so I was really caught off guard at seeing this precious little girl, being cradled in the arms of her daddy.

I, of course, lingered over the pictures for a while. Reminiscing over what that day meant to so many people. I know I haven't really spoken of the Grover Family before, mostly out of respect for their privacy, but also because it hurts.

:~: How it all started :~:
I was involved with a moms group while I was pregnant with Charlotte. During that time, these ladies sustained me. I would write lengthy email updates about what was going on and they all rallied around us with prayer and friendship. Well, there was a friend of mine there named Nicole. Eventually, Nicole left our group and started her own group at her church. One morning. about a year or so after Charlotte died, I got a call from Nicole asking if I wouldn't mind talking to another mom from her group. This woman was pregnant and had found out that her baby girl was very *sick* and would probably not live for very long outside of her womb. I was so scared. What the heck was I supposed to say? Don't get me wrong... I was honored that I was allowed to be able to try to show the goodness of Christ in the midst of my situation, but I was afraid I was going to fumble over myself. I tend to do that you know.. put too much of *me* into things.

Anyway, Nicole had recieved an email from Amber stating what was going on with the pregnancy, and she forwarded it to me (just so I was aware of the situation) and I was immediately struck by the similarities of Amber's writing and my own. Not so much in style, but in the overall tone of the letter as well as the obvious leading and peace given by the Holy Spirit. There were so many times that I would write and not really be aware of what I was writing until DAYS later, when I read it and said to myself "Woah! Did I write that?? I don't even remember where that came from." That's what I saw in Amber's letters too. Needless to say, since I had Amber's email address, I couldn't wait for a formal introduction by Nicole. I wrote to Amber directly.

I really don't even remember what I said at first contact, but what ended up happening was a beautiful and deep friendship was cultivating between Amber and I. We sent letters back and forth. I tried to reassure her, give her space, be a support. But what she may not have known was how much she was helping me too.

I was able to share Charlotte and the miraculous things Jesus had done with someone who "got it". Amber understood what I was saying without me having to explain it or defend it. It was liberating. A few weeks into our correspondence, we finally decided to meet in person. She was amazing. I marveled at her ability to keep herself together. I remember crying a lot while talking to her on the phone and in person. But there was nothing for me to hide behind. Nor did I need to.

I offered to take pictures for her of the birth of Olivianna, and she and her husband agreed. I was so elated to be allowed to be there for this event. I know this sounds selfish, but I got to be a part of a birth AND a homecoming that even their own family was not privy to. They had their family all at the hospital, you could feel the love surrounding them all day... but I got to meet Olivianna. The actual birth was beautiful. What I remember most clearly was Amber calling on the name of Jesus in her pain and the praise she was giving Him as Olivianna emerged. It only took a few moments and He delivered her.

Olivianna lived for a little over 11 minutes. She was held and loved on by her mommy and daddy the whole time. Her father was so strong. At one point it seemed as though the room was silent and all you could hear was loud sobbing. In all reality, it wasn't that loud, but it seemed like it. It was her daddy. The weight of the world was placed on his shoulders as he was beginning to say goodbye. Olivianna struggled to breathe, but it wasn't something that I would describe as pitiful or gut wrenching. It was more like she was leaving this world behind, as her breath was taken away by the sheer beauty of her seeing her Savior for the first time. It was such a peaceful moment. I will never, ever forget it.

I was able to make a video montage for them to play at her funeral. Even that was cathartic for me. But watching Amber go thru the stages of labor and delivery, I had set my mind on the idea that I was not wanting to have anymore children of my own. (It hurts!!) You tend to forget how bad things hurt after you have a child, but watching Amber do it, I resigned myself to the fact that I was done. Up until this period of time (June '08) I had been unsuccessfully trying to get pregnant. For 9 months I tried, cried, and died inside every month I got my period. I reluctantly was accepting the fact that I must make broken babies; as I too, was broken.

I came home that afternoon with my head spinning. I couldn't wrap my head around the idea that the world was still going on around me. Lights still turned green at traffic signals, dinner still needed to be made. Why couldn't the Earth stop spinning for even a minute to recognize what just happened? And then I though of how hard the next few months will be on that poor, sweet family. They are now in this dreadful "club".

I remember on that Friday I invited a few of my friends over to my house. Nothing formal or with an adgenda. I don't think any of them even knew what I had done a couple of days before (taking the pictures for Amber), *B* was out of town and I needed some support. My girlfriends came over and hung out with me and I felt better.

About a month later, I found out I was pregnant. God has a real sense of humor, huh?

Journal Entry: January 13th, 2009 He's in the details

2009-01-13T10:32:00.000-08:00

My aunt passed away last week. She had a very aggressive case of breast cancer. I saw her last in October, when we took a make shift Thanksgiving dinner up to my grandmas' house, figuring it would be the last bit of time we got to spend with each other. I'm so glad I did that. She got to sit and visit with my children. I was able to kiss her supple cheek goodbye. At that time we thought she had 6 months to 1 year before she would go. It was only 3 months. Oh how I wish I knew if she were in heaven that I could see her again. That probably sounds horrible, but I didn't know her well as an adult. I never spoke with her about the things of God. I never heard her say that she's trusts Jesus to be her Savior.

All I know about her life is that she was raised Mormon and was married the first time in the Mormon temple. Later, when I was about 5 yrs old, maybe, I vaguely remember going to a church service where she was baptized. I remember her "goin' in the tank." I knew that we weren't in a Mormon church, but that's about it. She was always the ONE person in my family that I felt I had gotten some of my physical attributes from. I may have looked like a cousin or someone from both sides of the family, but I always felt I got my height from my Aunt Barb. Height is a rare commodity in our family. I was taller than most of the males in the family for a long while. I always clung to that with her. And now too, her having two rambunctious boys that she was raising. I think about that all the time when I see my two guys wrestling or needing a trip to the emergency room. But if Aunt Barb could handle it, then so could I.

This is my dads sister. The second one to die, now he is left to care for his mom. His other sister died about 9 yrs ago from a brain tumor. He has had prostate cancer. The pressure must be heavy on him. But he has mentioned several times that Aunt Barb is in heaven. He seems to be satisfied with the knowledge of her trusting in Jesus. So in a weird way, I have to ride on his coat tails on this one.

This brings me to the point that I want to make. I don't want there to ever be a question of whom I adore, of whom I trust. I want to live my life in a way that everyone who meets me knows. It's not fair for there to be questions from those left behind as to where the dearly departed are now. It agonizing. I know that God only knows the hearts of men, and He is the author and finisher of our faith, but there shouldn't have to be the lingering questions.

"Do not neglect the gift that is in you, which was given to you by prophecy with the laying on of hands of the eldership. Meditate on these things; give yourself entirely to them, that your progress may be evident to all. Take heed to yourself and to the doctrine. Continue in them, for in doing this you will save both yourself and those who hear you." 1 Timothy 4:14

I had a doctor's appointment today. I was going to be seeing a midwife for the first time. I was a little nervous about it, seeing a midwife rather than a doctor. But I'm so glad I did. I scared myself pretty good last night. I had started coming down with a cold or flu bug or something a couple of days ago and I finally went to the store and bought some (what I thought would be) relief. I took the medicine as directed and started to feel better. I did get a bit loopy/dizzy from the antihistamine, but my sinuses started to feel better rather quickly. Well, the longer I sat in my haze, the more nervous I got. The baby was bumping around a lot until I took the pills, then about and hour later, he became less active. These are the things you notice when you've had a child die inside of you. Every nuance becomes the most important part of your day. Every wiggle is a reassuring sign that all is well. When the activity changes, you notice.

So all night long, the medicine I took to give me relief and respite only made me stay up and count kicks and rolls. I tried to sleep, would doze off, but startle myself awake wondering if I had killed my baby. He was so quiet. My upper sides were very uncomfortable, I would toss and turn from side to side, then worry that I was tossing too much and laying all of my weight on him. I wanted to lay flat on mt back for a while just to stretch things out, but I wouldn't because I know that can compress things. So back and forth, to and fro, right to left. At one point, I laid on my right side and was pushing downwards near my diaphragm, thinking that his foot was lodged in my ribcage. I rested my hand on my hip, trying to drift back off to sleep and felt a pulsating throb under my thumb. It was the first time I'd ever felt it. Mental note, it's about 4 am and there is still a heartbeat. You know, just in case it stops, I can know when I'd felt it last.

When it was finally time to get out of bed, I sat a little longer just to see if he bumped around. Nope. Not much. I showered, still not much. By the time I was driving and sipping my iced coffee and he wasn't moving, I was getting more and more nervous. I prayed in the car to have God shift him. And he did. He woke up and I could feel him squirm. Whew. But that was a long 7 minute car ride that's for sure!

After I arrived and they took me in the back and weighed me, which to my chagrin, I have gained almost 6 pounds in 2 weeks. Yikes! But it puts me at only 7 pounds over my starting weight (not including what I had lost in the beginning). I'm not usually much of a numbers person, but this just makes me think that he's gonna be a fat baby. I had a dream the other night that he was a 9 lb 3 oz bundle of chub. It was the first dream I've EVER had being pregnant that I could actually see the baby's face. and you know what? It was beautiful. And a girl. hahahaha. Guess I'm still working thru my feelings on that one. lol. We called her Sophie. That's not even one of my favorite girl names. Go figure.

When the midwife came in I was fine. She asked about the baby by name, which is nice and also asked if I was doing ok, all of the typical things. I'd mentioned about my little freak out the night before with the meds but followed up with now he's moving, literally right at that moment, so I knew he was ok. Then with the most compassionate voice, she said "You know it's not your fault what happened right? You didn't make your baby die". I know that. And I'm sure I've heard it before, but somehow, when she said it, it lifted the heavy burden I'd been carrying.

We chatted about Charlotte and this baby. And in that I learned she is a Christian. I cried even harder. What a blessing. She measured me and all is well. Except for the fact that he has moved again into a transverse position. Ugh. Well, that explains why I've been feeling so much discomfort on my sides. I thought so, but didn't think he'd flop over again!! She suggested that if I rub my big toe there is a pressure point that is said to help turn a baby.

After I left the office (with much higher spirits), I stopped by my mom's salon. She kept insisting that I get a pedicure (She gave me a gift certificate for Christmas). I didn't mention to her about the rubbing the toe thing. But I wanted to wait until closer to when the baby is due to get one, but she told me that she'll treat me to another one, but that I should really make an appointment soon. So I'm going on Friday and I'll have the girl really give my big toe a workout, lol.

Journal Entry: Not much going on December 9th, 2008

2008-12-09T22:17:00.001-08:00

Well, just thought I'd share that I'm ok. The day came and went. I teared up the first time when I opened my inbox and there was a note from my sister just letting us know she knows. I didn't have any major bawling episodes, thank goodness. Not like last year. I didn't feel like I was socked in the gut or have the shaking the heavens and the earth type of let down Just a few silent tears. Very few.

Around the hour that she was born, I soflty sang happy birthday to her, over my ol time favorite Baskin Robbins. I took A there as a treat for the both of us. The boys had a Christmas program at church then we went out to dinner with my mom. My meal was disappointing, so was the conversation when she said that A had reminded her of what the day was. I was surprised that A even acknowledged it at all, let alone spoke about it to someone else. On her Myspce she said she was sad and the header said "Happy Birthday Charlotte". Another set of tears flowed.

B didn't even remember what the day was. I was making breakfasat after church and I said "You know... today is Baby Girl's birthday". He said "huh?" Not once, but 3 times. He also said "I don't get it..." >>rolling my eyes here<<.

But instead of me making a big deal out of him forgetting I just sucked it in and continued making the French toast. He got pretty huffy and asked why there was so much tension now. I just shrugged my shoulders. I wasn't gonna fight him or try to make him feel bad. I figured ok, this is how it is now. A faded picture for some. But not to me.

So that was the 7th in a nutshell. I did have some other people call/email me to tell me they were thinking about us, but not many. That's ok. I knew this day would come.

I did receive a wonderful phone call yesterday though... my dear friend Amber called to tell me she's pregnant. I am so excited for them. One day, when I'm feeling up to it, I am going to post the whole story of our friendship. But it's heavy, and I know I'll cry. But for now... yay Amber!!

Journal Entry: December 6th, 2008 Even at 3 in the morning...

2008-12-06T04:49:00.000-08:00

I woke up sometime around three am and haven't been able to go back to sleep yet. So I hopped on to the computer just to bore myself back to bed, but I guess Little Man had another idea. He woke up to vomit in his bed ::bleck::

So thankfully I was already wide awake and was able to tend to him without getting grumpy over lost sleep. Now we're both up.

B took the kids to a Christmas party at church last night and by the *looks* of things, the chili wasn't sitting well with Z. He's now watching tv on the couch as I hammer away at the computer.

I was sad to miss the party with my family, but last night was a good night for me. I had 5 girls come along with me to the church for an evening of fun and friendship. I was so happy that they showed up, we ended up staying out until about 10pm. (I'm going to also try to figure out how to link some other blogs to this one... it better explains why I'm so excited about it.)

While I am up, I've added a playlist of music that has particular meaning to me regarding Charlotte. It's something I've been meaning to do, but technology scares me a little and I'm not sure of what I'm doing. So tonight, er..uh.. this morning, I actually had time to fiddle around a bit. Like most people, music really ministers to my heart. The words of the song are what get me, nevermind the melody. Maybe now I can delete some of the other side bar clips and spiff up the blog a little bit. I feel like I'm rearranging the furniture in my house. I guess if it doesn't work out, I can always move things back to my usual comfort zone.

So, here's just a brief explanation of what the songs mean to me, in case anyone is interested..

"I am Free" by the Newsboys is probably the closest I can get to imagining what life is like for Charlotte now. She is free from pain, she is free to sing, she is free to dance before her King... and it's all for, and because of, what Jesus has done for us. Just thinking about it makes me tear up because I am so happy for her. I know, it may not seem like it in some of my posts, but I am abundantly happy for her that she is with Him. I can't begin to imagine the joy she experiences everyday, but through the words of this song, I can catch a glimpse of the exhilaration she must feel. I can practically *see* her running on the streets of gold.

"Bring the Rain" by Mercy Me is the anthem of my heart. People who have a relationship with Christ can understand this song on so many levels. Had I not had a relationship with him, I surely would have drowned in circumstance and sorrow. Because of this, I was truly able to say "Lord, what ever brings you glory, so be it. If it requires the life of my daughter, so be it. Bring it on. Whatever will bring You the most glory."

"I'm Not Alright" by Sanctus Real is the raw me sometimes. When I'm feeling like no one *gets me*, I think of this song.

"The Blessing" by John Waller reminds me that my purpose is greater than what is on the surface, and so is what happened with Charlotte.

So now I'm off to find something to snack on. I'm gonna look for some more cute things to add to the blog. We'll see what I come up with.

Journal Entry: December 1st, 2008- 2 years ago a heart stopped beating...

2008-12-01T17:27:00.000-08:00

Seven Hundred Thirty days is close to One Thousand...right?

I've missed you daily.

"Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere..." Psalms 84:10

Family Pictures November 30, 2008

2008-11-30T22:40:00.000-08:00

We had our family pictures taken today. The last time we took pictures as a group, M was a little baby. Well, enough yapping from me... take a look....

Journal Entry: November 27, 2008 Something new in the Sweet Potatoes

2008-11-27T23:17:00.000-08:00

"Enter into His gates with thanksgiving, [And] into His courts with praise. Be thankful to Him, [and] bless His name. For the LORD [is] good; His mercy [is] everlasting, And His truth [endures] to all generations..." Psalms 100:4-5

We have a family tradition. As much as tradition goes, it's not really noteworthy. It didn't start in a funny way, or really have a back story to it, but still, it's ours. We always have J & V here as well as whatever family is still in town. J & V started coming over because my friend, their daughter, would make the rounds at her in-laws for the holidays. It was just the two of them (later adding N to their clan) and it was just *our family* up here. It seemed only natural to have them join us. Afterall, I've been best friends with their daughter for almost 25 years. When this all started we still had our family down south. B has to work every Friday after Thanksgiving, so we have always had Thanksgiving here. It's grown over the past couple of years to include my mom and brother and now my sister and her family. Now it's "what we do". And we love it.

We've also come to love J & V very much and we share a lot of our life with them. I know they feel the same way. When we found out Charlotte was sick they, from a distance, loved us very closely. On Labor Day weekend, or thereabouts... while I was still pregnant with her, they hosted a Thanksgiving Dinner for us. Knowing that it very well may have been our only Thanksgiving with her in our world, they went all out. They had a full traditional meal (pies and all) just to give thanks to Him who created her. It meant so much to me. Much more than I think anyone knows.

Anyway, as with any tradition, there are the *usuals* that we eat. One of them being my own recipe for macaroni and cheese, praline sweet potaotes and my mom's recipe for ambrosia salad. These will be found at the *Big Three* holidays. Always.

But today, as I was making the sweet potatoes, I added a secret ingredient. Ok, not so much literally, but perhaps one small one... of my own tears.

I stood at the counter and was caught in the moment. My children were whizzing about the house, so excited for the *feast* that was to come. Little hands were being traced to make colorful roosters, my ears were filling with the sound of worship music and singing from my husband. I was totally immersed with thanksgiving. The baby in my womb, that occupies the place that my Charlotte did, was bouncing around, letting me know that yes, I am thankful for him too.

Tears were dripping, my heart was full. I was overcome with the emotion that... my gosh, I miss her, yet it is ok to go on. And as much as I want to be over it, I never will. B walks by and sees me crying and asks "are those tears of joy?". And in my heart I sing "Yes".

"Sing to the LORD with thanksgiving; Sing praises on the harp to our God, Who covers the heavens with clouds, Who prepares rain for the earth, Who makes grass to grow on the mountains. He gives to the beast its food, [And] to the young ravens that cry.
He does not delight in the strength of the horse; He takes no pleasure in the legs of a man. The LORD takes pleasure in those who fear Him, In those who hope in His mercy. Praise the LORD, O Jerusalem! Praise your God, O Zion! For He has strengthened the bars of your gates; He has blessed your children within you. He makes peace [in] your borders, [And] fills you with the finest wheat" Psalms 147:7

Thank you Jesus, for your precious gift of life. Both here on Earth and into Eternity with You.

Journal Entry: November 24th, 2008 Frozen

2008-11-24T13:46:00.000-08:00

::sigh:: When I look back at the last time I posted, I feel a little guilty because I haven't written anything in a while. Meanwhile, there has been much to write, I've just been avoiding it.

I have some tweaking to do on this blog because I want to add links to other blogs but I just haven't been able to put myself out there to do it. Somewhere inside me I feel like if I stop now, then Charlotte and her story is frozen. When in fact, it's not her story that has been frozen, but my heart.

A few weeks ago I hit a stride of constantly being in fear over this baby I'm now carrying. I was embarrassed to admit it to others because I felt like people had an idea of me being so strong that it was shameful for me to worry.

So instead, I shut down and gave in. One Saturday morning, as B was going to a Men's Breakfast with the church, I told him that the baby had died. All the night before I laid in bed crying with him beside me, not making any noise as my heart was breaking in half because I was gripped with sadness that something bad had happened. When he woke up in the morning, he didn't understand why I looked like I hadn't slept in days. It was because I hadn't. Well, needless to say, the baby hasn't died. But my point is that I was scared and I couldn't push through my fear enough to even pray about it. Where was all of the faith I had months ago? I wasn't/haven't been working it out.

So about 3 weeks ago we had our big ultrasound. We opted to get a Level II straight away instead of the basic and waiting to see if something was going to show up. The whole way to Sacramento I felt sick to my stomach. B and I drove in silence a good part of the way there, both not wanting to mention the obvious.

We got into the Doctor's office and I could barely breath. All of the familiar things were still there, except the genetic counselor now had braces. Don't ask me why I fixated on that, but I guess I was looking for something.. even the slightest thing... to be different this time around.

The scan took a lot less time to do than they told me it would. Twenty minutes, in and out. I was told it would take an hour and a half, at least. They called the Doc into read it and I was irritated to see it was the male doctor we had seen before with Charlotte. He was the same one that delivered the blow about her condition. I set my appt with the woman doctor, but she apparently had a family emergency, so he was covering her shift. ::deep breath::

The technician was also a different one, very friendly and talkative. She said she was aware of the problems of our last pregnancy, but didn't know all of the details. Immediately when she said this my eyes filled. It took a lot of blinking for me to not let them spill over as I laid still. But then the Tech leaned over to me and whispered "it's beautiful...". Well then I lost it.

She sat upright really quickly and assured me that the doctor would come back in to go over the images she took. Silently telling me what I already knew.. that she wasn't supposed to say anything, she's only the tech. Soon after, the Doctor came strolling in. All smiles. I wondered if he remembered who we were. That he had seen us before. Did he recognize my tear filled eyes.. did he understand the gravity of the words he was about to deliver to me and my husband?

He sat down and looked over all of the images rather quickly. We'd already told everyone we didn't want to find out the sex of the baby, so the tech and the counselor wrote it down on a piece of paper for us, sealed it in an envelope, and handed it to B who placed it into my purse. At one point the doctor stopped on an image of the baby's butt and legs. I asked if that was the bum hand he said yes. He then looked (in an exaggerated way) past me over to B and then back to the image. He then said "I was wondering who's profile it had." hmmm...

His next words wwere like a cool breeze. He said the baby was "perfection" and "beautiful". By this time, I was sitting up, but I may as well have been lying flat because I was floored. A huge sigh of relief came out of me and B at the same time I think, but I didn't even look at him until we were walking out of the scan room. I know though that we both had tear stained faces.

B really didn't want to find out the gender, but I would have if he wanted to. I made a pit stop at the potty and came out to the elevator. I pulled the envelope out and held it up to the sunlight. B looked at me and grabbed it out of my hands. "What are yo doing?!?" he asked. Well I was only kidding, I wasn't going to really open it. But then he tore the envelope open. I was shocked! We hadn't even made it out of the building and we caved, lol.

He chuckled and tilted his head and handed me the paper. "It's a BOY! congrats..." was scribbled on it. I started to cry. B asks what's wrong...he's healthy! "I know, but it's another stinky boy!" is what I said...just as the elevator doors opened. A woman stood there laughing and says "I guess you already have a boy?" to which I replied... "I have TWO stinky boys!!". ::sheesh::.

It took me a good 45 minutes to stop the water works. Even the calls I made to tell family and friends were all "Oh." and "Well..." which didn't help my emotions about it. Honestly, I felt like I was disappointing a lot of people.

How dumb that I would be so upset that it' s not a girl. But the more I accept it, the more excited I'm getting. In a very weird way I am glad that it's not a girl after all... I could see how I may have had some misguided ideas about it being a girl, in regards to Charlotte.

So now my only living daughter is turning 16 in May. She wanted to go skydiving, something I was considering letting her do. But when we came home and told her it's a boy, she was all smiles, until I let her know that skydiving is now out of the question and she can also forget about planning her own wedding. She's the only girl. Too bad. She's got me all to herself. haha.

One thing though, I'd noticed during the ultrasound was that this baby's head and the division of two lobes was so much more clearly defined than Charlotte's. His hand is also much more visible than hers was. Not a big deal. but it reminded me of the little things I was searching for with her. Tell tale signs of being OK.

Now knowing that this child is a boy has actually made me relax a lot more. It really is a different pregnancy. A different child. But knowing the difference has also made me want to just get on with my life, in a way.

Charlotte's anniversary is approaching quickly. I've probably mentioned it before, but I could kick myself now for having so many *special* dates to remember. We were told November 11th thru ultrasound that she was ok. She died December 1st. She was born December 7th. She was buried on another date. You see, I feel over loaded.

Last year I decided I wanted to honor her birthday every year with a holiday party. We would do an ornament exchange and have a dessert social. The meaning and significance would be only known to me and a couple of other people, but now, a part of me doesn't even want to do it. Finances are a part of it. Now isn't a good time to have a party, but also, I'm weary. I know next week will be tough on me. Well, perhaps it won't but I'm bracing myself for the tears and darkness to come. I thought last year I would be OK and it was so much harder on me than I expected. So this year I will let myself feel what ever I feel.

I don't like that I feel like my life has gone on and that it's ok. I want to be more sad. I don't want to be ready for another baby, but I am. I'm so confused. That's what I mean about being frozen. She's like a little snowflake. If you don't take time to notice how beautifully unique and intricate she was, she will melt and you won't even know it.

Journal Entry: October 19, 2008 Kitchen Closed

2008-10-19T00:38:00.000-07:00

I think this very well may be my last pregnancy. You'd think 5 was enough, right? But somehow, it's a sad thing. I have been very sick and the exhaustion has taken it's toll. What was so exciting in the beginning has become a scary and dark place. I've done this many times before, but now somehow I'm charting unnavigated waters. Now it's not that ominous and depressing, but my anxiety over the health of this baby has grown. I know it's in direct relation to how often I have been in (and out) of the Word. But I'm afraid to completely dive into it again.

See, the last time I fully surrendered to the Lord, with out reservation, He gave me Charlotte and we all know what happened there. Yes, there was growth. Yes there was evidence made manifest in my life and the lives of others... but it still hurt. It hurts still. So bad that I just won't do that again, no way. Not if I can help it. But I'm also painfully aware that I have to surrender. My shoulders aren't big enough to carry this burden. I need the shoulders of Christ, who carried the cross. I need the shoulders of a Saviour.

And I've come to realize that I'm afraid to tell God He can have it all. Because what if He takes it all? I know I have no control over things, it's a spiritual war I'm going through, and I am fully aware of it. But what if I openly give my everything to Him and He puts me thru the fire again??

So thinking about how much this has been messing with my mind, I decided that I'm done. Kitchen closed.

Isn't it laughable? For me to think that I can just make a decision like this?? But there are some heavy rocks I've lifted from the river and I'm not sure if I can do it anymore. Not to mention the fact that being pregnant at 33 isn't the same as being pregnant at 17 or 27 or 29 or 31. It's taking it's toll on my body.

B and I have decided to not find out if this baby is a boy or a girl. I really want the big surprise at the end, but only if it is what I wanted. You see, I really want another baby girl. Will I get it? Who knows. But my first was not relished. I was too young to take in all that a baby girl had to offer, and let's just put it out there... my daughter is not much of a girly girl. That's ok. Really. I'm ok with it; but I would like a little girl to dress up and and well, you know. But there are no guarantees.

So part of me wants to find out before hand if it's a boy because I feel like I need time to prepare my heart to welcome a little man again. I love this child already, no matter what, but there is a whole other grieving process to go through if it is indeed a boy. I don't know how long that process is, or how deep, but I have been treading into those waters just thinking about it. Kind of bracing myself. I had every intuition telling me it is a girl. Then I analyze every twitch and roll and think maybe I'm wrong. Maybe it' s a boy. The comfort I find myself clinging to is the fact that God already knew what this child is before the foundations of the earth and that He isn't waiting until the last minute to make up His mind as to what it will be. He's not balancing my good deeds against His divine plan and leveraging it with a pink blankie over a blue one. (But oh how pretty pink is!)

The up-in-your-face fact of me not having another daughter is right on the surface. My eldest and I have hit a very rough teenage patch. And my youngest is in heaven. I'm alone in a house full of testosterone. Can I whine that it's not fair??

I also wanted to mention something that has been on my heart for sometime, but I have only shared with one other person. It's kind of heavy (for me at least) and I think that's why I waited to write about it, because I wanted to *get it right* first. But in waiting to write it out, I have also forgotten some of the tender nuances...

When I first found out I was pregnant (this time) I was very happy. But for some of the wrong reasons. Crazy reasons.

I thought *for sure* I would carry twins.

Why? I don't have a family line of them. I'm not "advanced in age" enough to have this as a serious consideration.

Wanna know why? Because a man was at my home shortly after Charlotte died that told me that maybe one day the Lord would bless me with twins. He would replenish and restore. I have held onto that statement for over a year and a half, hoping and literally praying that it was a prophetic word given through this man just for me. Then my excitement grew. My son and niece and a couple of others said they thought there were two in there. Whew! Two?? Oh my heart danced! Why? Because maybe, just maybe this would be true.

As I went into my first ultrasound the doctor said there was a heartbeat. Only one. Initially I was super happy that there even was that. Then I was sad because there was only a single one. Why?

This is where it is shameful (to me).

Because I somehow thought that if there were two, it would PROVE to the world God's faithfulness. That all of the things I had gone thru with Charlotte was true and real. I wasn't hanging onto false hope or making up things in my bereaved mind.

As I finish typing this (from under my rock) I have to say that I honestly and wholeheartedly KNOW that this was a wrong and sinful way for me to think. I know that God does not need to prove anything to anyone about His faithfulness, especially when it's based on my standards. It was a hard blow to own. but it's out there. Ain't nothin' much I can say about it now. ::shrug::.

But that's where I was at for a while. and I know... that no matter what... this child will suit me perfectly. It's the best gift I never knew I wanted.

Journal Entry: Spetember 18th, 2008 Meltdown like Pompeii

2008-09-18T03:43:00.000-07:00

The reality is that I'm having another baby.

another. baby.

Even though right now it is only 3.5 inches long and weighs about an ounce, it's still a baby. The problem? I have no guarantee that it will be healthy. At this point I don't even consider what "normal" is, I'm just looking for alive.

I had a bit of a meltdown the other night. It was short lived and unexpected, but it was still hard. I was walking down the hall and became extremely anxious. Don't know what set me off, but I was glad to have been already walking in the direction of the bedroom where B was sleeping. I sat next to him on the bed and lowered my head and cried and cried.

He woke up, asking what the heck was wrong and I had to say it. I'm scared.

And in his *ever so tender* way of dealing with my emotions he told me to stop it.

gulp.

He is right. He told me I have absolutely no right tell God that He HAS to make this one ok, and that I need to lay it down at His feet. Every single time I get to thinking something will be bad I've gotta let it go.

I told him that is the problem. I can't assume that anything will be fine ever again. I know I have to walk in faith that things will be ok, but let's face it: God doesn't always have the same plans we do.

I'd noticed that I haven' tbeen praying daily for this child as I set out to do in the beginning. Fear gripped my heart and shut it off *just in case*. I've really tried to overcome this, but I'm finding it's a lot easier said than done.

I'm ok now. I'm only writing it down I guess to remember later that I am struggling. More than I write about I suppose. It's hard to wear the armor from day to day.

Journal Entry: September 9, 2008 Is one really enough??

2008-09-09T10:44:00.000-07:00

I had said several times that as long as there was good to be had and glory to be given for Charlotte's death, I would be satisfied. I would take rest in knowing that God indeed used her short life to reach into the heart of someone to turn them around to Him... then it would all be worth it.

At least one. Just one. Someone. anyone.

And the stories came in. People, strangers sometimes, who told me how much their relationship with the Lord grew during that season. The relationships that were buried under the dirt that had started to sprout. Those that were watered. Those that were harvested.

I never prayed the sinner's prayer with anyone. I never led anyone to the Lord. I just lived my life in a fishbowl. Maybe too much of a fishbowl at times, but nonetheless, He would work out the things which were to be.

And then very shortly after Charlotte died my best friend told me that she was the one. She was the one I had prayed salvation for because of this situation. Blindly begging God to save at least one.

Just one. someone. anyone.

At the time I didn't care who it was. Just please do not let this all be in vain. But as the days grew longer.. I wondered: was one enough? As Charlotte's memory fades, would one be enough to carry on a legacy? Would it all be for naught?

I rejoiced when she told me that she gave her heart to the Lord, but I was kinda like..."eh, ok thanks God. Who else ya got?" I didn't let it soak in. Then over the past year and a half I watched this person ebb and flow with her relationship with the Lord. It's a rocky ledge to stand on when looking at your friends who you've known almost your whole life come to accept Christ. You want to guard them and lead them. But you also want to stand aside and let God do the growing and pruning as you watch for fruit. And there was fruit. But it was her fruit, not mine. I couldn't even get a taste of it because it wasn't my season anymore. I was almost bitter.

This past weekend she went on a retreat with her church. I knew she had been struggling with very strong demons in her life for the past 2 or 3 months and it scared me for her. But she came back delivered. And I wept and howled in my soul. And even now, even as I type, I cry.

I was in the shower and it occurred to me that one is plenty. One is more than I have the right to ask for. One is not an "only". But it is priceless.

Who knows, maybe she is one of many. But I'm so glad she is the one.

Journal Entry: August 4, 2008 Sandwiched in the Middle

2008-08-04T07:50:00.000-07:00

First the background:
My friend and I have a running joke that whenever I get pregnant, she gets pregnant. So I call her up the other day and we're chatting about things and here it comes:
I say, "So you know that it's gonna happen to you now, right? "
She says, "Oh no it's not! Besides, you're just trying to catch up to me. I already have four and your trying to get to the fourth."

Uh, no. Actually, this is my FIFTH.

"Charlotte was my fourth, remember?"
"Yeah, but..."
"No, I had to carry her to term and still give birth."
"Yeah, well, when I was a teenager I had a miscarriage, so that doesn't really count. You're just trying to catch up to me..."

Even typing this out makes me so mad. And this isn't the first time something dumb like this has been said. Once it was even said that by the fourth kid "the gene pool has slim pickin's and they just get whatever throw back genes they can." Ha ha ha, right? I know she wasn't referring directly to my daughter, just trying to make a joke, but com'mon! Have I been wearing a smile too broad that it makes people think I have forgotten about her like they have, because I haven't.

Maybe I'm being too sensitive. My friend and I have a very long history, but I can't help how I feel. Should I just toughen up and let stuff slide off my back? I thought after the genetic pool comment that I should be more prepared *next time* if something like that were to be said. So this time I corrected her with the fact that Charlotte was my fourth, I'm now on my fifth; but apparently it fell on deaf ears.

Word to the wise of whomever reads this: Don't EVER tell a bereaved parent that their child *didn't count*.

Ironically, I am so happy that Charlotte is somewhere in the middle. Lord willing that this baby is born alive and healthy, it will be the *end cap*. Right now I feel like Charlotte is somewhere floatin' around in outer space. A figment of my imagination. She's like a silent letter in a word. Not many people saw her, no one knew her, so now when people ask me how many children I have I can say 5 and not have that last one fall off my tongue.

Journal Entry: July 30, 2008 Call from Katie

2008-07-30T14:50:00.000-07:00

Got a call from Katie in Genetics. Her familiar soft voice reassured me today. She offered me a Level II Ultrasound at 18 weeks. She also explained that there is a couple of additional screening tests that can be done sooner than that. They would only indicate the probability of Down's or Trisomy, and following that, an amnio is suggested. But she remembered how I adamently declined these tests with Charlotte and understands if I decline them now.

She actually said she thought I was *brave* and that she respected my decision to stand my ground for myself in declining further testing... way back when. **sigh**.

I never thought I'd be rootin' for Trisomy, but today I am.

Apparently the likelihood of having another child with some or all of the genetic problems that Charlotte had WITHOUT there being a Trisomy is greater than if Charlotte did have T18. If she did not have T18 and had those particular problems, the chance is greater that they could repeat themselves in subsequent children.

If she did indeed have T18 it could have been a total *fluke* or one of us could have carried it. We've already ruled out me being a carrier. It's almost a moot point right now if B carries it. Wouldn't change anything anyway.

But for now, if it's settled that she did have it then there is a 1% chance it could ever happen again. That brought me some relief today. At least until my next appointment. Here we go...

Journal Entry: July 23, 2008 Does this story have a happy ending?

2008-07-23T23:28:00.000-07:00

I don't even know what to say.

I am so excited, nervous and scared. I found out Monday morning. Waited all day to tell B. I was so scared of his reaction. Of all the ways I could tell him, I emailed him. The irony in that is that he has been complaining to me about how much time I spend on the computer. Just recently he got a promotion from work and has been learning how to send and recieve emails. So I wrote him a note that says : How many lines do you see? and I'm wondering if you can see what I can see??

I waited for him to come home and kept urging him to check his email as he had something from his boss on there. He took his time in checking it. I finally told him to check it because we were waiting for an email from his dad. So he opens it up and reads it. Looks at the picture and shrugs his shoulders. "I don't get it" he says. Oi Vey!

So I sat there in silence, waiting for it to dawn on him. Then he lookes over at me and says "Is this from you?". Yep. So much for the hooplah. He sat back in the office chair and rubbed his forehead. After a few minutes had passed he stood up, gave me a hug and said that we are walking in the *shadow of death*. Gulp. He also said that he was 1.) excited 2.) nervous and 3.) scared. I confirmed that he is at least a *little* excited and we agreed to rest on that.

Now it's been only 2 days since I found out and I've already had my share of tears.

I have so many mixed emotions about this. I had just succumbed to the idea that maybe there were no more babies for us back in April or May. I had just witnessed my dear friend give birth last month and realized that labor is painful! I think I'm good. All done here! I started accepting the fact that I'm not getting pregnant.

Since last October, or there abouts, I had been ACTIVELY trying to get pregnant. For at least 6-8 months I was trying to no avail. I have to admit, Brian didn't really know when I ovulated or anything like that, but I did. I'd figured if he wasn't too worried about me NOT getting pregnant, they hey, why not stack the odds?? I didn't do anything devious, I just *lived my life* with my husband. There were no other explanations for not getting pregnant other than it was not God's timing. So I just assumed that we were done. Somewhere in the middle of it, I had gotten really angry and resentful. I shrugged it off and moved along.

B had even told a lot of people that we were done and he was adament about getting the 'ol snippity-snip. For a time that broke my heart. Then I felt peace that God was reminding me that B hadn't even called for an appointment for this and to relax. He had it under control. But still, I thought He was done with us. I even asked B if he was still planning on doing it... three or four days before I found out I was pregnant.

Then Monday came. I was only late by 1 day. But I just KNEW. I don't know why or how, but I did. I think I even know the exact moment. I had this thought of "Oh my gosh, you just got me pregnant!" but I didn't say anything to him. It was just a completely different feeling I had afterwards.

I expected to have a wide range of emotions about this. But I am quite surprised at the ones I've had so far.

In a way, I feel guilty.

I know that I have been blessed. I have good friends, close family, a nice home, healthy children, etc. I know a lot of people are not as fortunate as I am. That's when I start to feel bad. Like I already have *enough*. I have had so many people cover me in prayer and love on me from what had happened with Charlotte.. now people are loving on me and covering me in prayer over this baby too. I personally know of women that don't have people cheering them on when they get pregnant. Now I do. I don't know why I feel so guilty by that, but I do.

I also feel so unworthy.

I have a completely different perspective of children now. I do truly see them as gifts. Why have
I been given this gift when I don't deserve it? I have not prayed to become pregnant in (what seems like) a very long time (actually it's only been a couple of months). And now, here I am. Why is God blessing me this way? OR... is this going to be another faith tester? Gosh, I hope not! What if something is wrong. Or goes wrong? What if I miscarry? What if my health suffers? What if, what if, what if.

This sucks.

I can't even have an imaginary hallmark date. So what if I find out at 9, 12, 15 and 18 weeks that she is (oops, Freudian slip..haha) that the baby is ok. I'm still not out of the woods. Charlotte's heart stopped at 36 weeks! Oh Jesus, give me peace. I need to know that this will be ok. That I will not crack up in the meantime. what now?

Journal Entry: July 21, 2008 The puppies are here!

2008-07-21T09:01:00.000-07:00

Just wanted to update really quickly that Coco had her puppies! They were born July 13th.

She indeed had 3. Two boys and one girl. The little girl is just darling. Her coat is beautiful. Chocolate brown and white. One brother is taffy and white and the other is a polka dotted black and white cow. They are all named and very much loved. Little Boy #1 is named Butters. Little Boy #2 Is Bon Bon (Named by my daughter, however I was calling him Oliver). And Little Miss is named Curry. So precious.

Our family went to a soccer game and when we came home, the first little boy was already born and literally hanging out of Coco, only attached by the cord. I'll spare all of the gorey details, but I will say that I was able to help deliver the second and third pup.

They are growing so fast already. They're eyes are still closed, but their bellies are getting soft and round.

I think I'm in love...

Journal Entry: July 11th, 2008 Unrealistic Anxiety

2008-07-11T13:51:00.000-07:00

Today I took Coco to the vet. She is pregnant with her first litter and I went in to see if the Doc could count how many puppies she would have. Well, while she was out getting X rayed... I sat alone in the examination room. There was a nicely framed picture of a beagle puppy that was adorable! I blankly gazed at the ceiling it was so cute...they had paw prints embossed into the tiles. Anyway, I was looking around, praying that God would allow the puppies to be born healthy and that there would be the right number of them in there. I have had every puppy spoken for since before she was pregnant, and I din't know how I was going to pick and choose who would get what. I was hoping for a minimum of 5.

Then I had the idea of asking Brian if I could actually breed dogs. We could convert the garage into the space necessary since it's all finished off in there. But the idea is to sell them at a minimal cost (just to cover expenses) to bereaved families of those who have lost a baby or an infant. I don't know.. it was just a thought.

Well, as Coco was out of the room, I noticed it was taking a long time for the doctor to come back with the results. There was a flurry of activity outside the exam room door. The nurses were talking to each other and I could see them walking at an almost frantic pace past the room I was in. There is a small window in the door, just big enough to see slivers of people walking by. The voices were muffled so I couldn't hear what anyone was saying, but all of the sudden, I had anxiety that surprised me. My heart was racing and my eyes quickly filled up with tears. Where the heck was this coming from??

Where was my dog? Was she ok? What if they were xraying her and saw that the puppies died? What if all of the sudden she started convulsing? Were the nurses tending to her? Is this why they were rushing into the other room??

I had the sharpest pain in my chest. I couldn't catch my breath. What was I doing??

All of this only lasted about 5 minutes. Then I'd realized that this was Coco, not me. I calmed down and took a breath. Just then the doctor walked in. He said there are 3 puppies in there. He showed me the 2 views on X ray and we counted 3 little skulls with lots and lots of little bones.

Knowing how many she's expecting takes off a lot of pressure. I know exactly who is getting them now, I don't have to pick and choose.

But the doctor did warn me that there is a danger of only having 3 in there because they may grow too big and have trouble coming out. He told me what to watch for and how long to wait before we take her to the hospital, if we have to. This is sounding all too familiar.

But I feel much better now. The puppies should be here with in the next 3-6 days. :)

Journal Entry: July 1, 2008 Ash Heap

2008-07-01T23:21:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting on a huge ash heap. It feels like it anyway. I have conquered the flames and am left sitting on top of a pile of smoldering ashes. I'm filthy dirty and my hair is cinged. But at least I am on top of the pile and not under it, right?

I'm writing this down tonight knowing there is a possibility of someone reading this that may get their feelings hurt. I am going to try to be as vague as possible about a *confession* I have to make just to try to protect another person. But I feel like I have to write it down, lest I forget the lesson.

There is a certain someone I know that is going through a situation that is largely of their own doing. Not all of it, but a large part of it. My opinion of the matter isn't as important as what my "judgements" and attitude have been about it. The fact is, I don't agree with what was allowed to transpire, I think it is wrong. But (1.) it's none of MY business and (2.) I don't know that if I were in the same situation that I would do differently. This brings me to two images I see in the mirror. Both of which leave a lump in my throat when I realize that the reflection is of me.

In this mirror, I see a few things. One of them is a judgemental spirit. The other is hypocrisy, and yet another jealousy. Very ugly words that can be used to describe my heart these days, and honestly, very hard to swallow. In one sense I want to deny these things are part of my character. But on the other hand, they are rising to the surface like a bubble about to pop.

So in this "situation", a certain someone is claiming that the sequence of events that is happening must be "from God" because they are looking to be working out in their favor. I am so tired of hearing that, it sounds so cliche. What I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around is that the overall situation seems to go against the very character of God... meaning that this person is doing something that their heart wants to do and saying that it is all ok, and that God is... in fact... blessing it and all of these *good* things that are happening are evidence of His blessing.

What I'm struggling with is... how can it be from God when it looks to be so worldly? And yet, they are the given answers to their prayers, so it seems, so how then is it NOT from God? ? ? Glimpse in the mirror...
#1.) Judgement. uck.

So creeping quietly into the picture comes jealousy and guilt.

In this situation, I'm watching this person get "blessed" over and above what is appropriate. How ridiculous does that sound? Like I actually have a say in what God chooses to bless someone with... but these are biggies. Materialistic in nature, I know.. so lame, but it's hard to take my eyes off of that. Now, in fairness, this person is a *praying kinda person* and is pouring their requests out to God. Asking for His favor and seemingly getting it! Why can't I get it too?

#2.) Jealousy

Well, I am very fond of this person, so much so that I'd better not say more because someone may figure out who I'm referring to. But because of my relationship to them, guilt settles into the cracks. Outwardly I pretend to be excited, but inside it's eating me up. What's worse is I'm having a heck of a time not backbiting and gossiping about it.

They, a dozen times over, are getting their heart's desire... How can I not be happy for 'em? How can I not rejoice with 'em when their prayers are answered?? Inside, I'm rolling my eyes...

Sheesh! What kind of person am I? What a lousy excuse for a Christian I've become! My inner feelings have not been very Christlike at all. Guilt/shame are all now rolled into one. But in all reality... I guess I haven't *become* this type of Christian, this is they type of person I have always been and have yet to shed off. And because of Christ... I can.

#3.) Guilt

As I type this I keep thinking.. will grace not abound? Where sin abounds, how much more will grace abound? I have no right to dictate to the Lord who He will or will not bless. I know that.

***Now comes the REAL horror show part of this epiphany...***

I realized that through the fervent prayers of this person, they are being built up. Their confidence in praying is being built. The more they pray and *get*... the more they pray (or so it seems). They're getting their prayers answerd left and right and the answer is ALWAYS good.

And there is a part of me... in the pit of my being where it's dark and ugly... that does not want them to be blessed. What my flesh wants is for their heart to be broken... just as much as mine is >>ouch, hard realization there<<.

A bubble bursting effect, that is just as big as all of my hopes and dreams were a year and a half ago... and how small and shattered they still feel at times...that's how I want someone...especially this person... to feel. I don't want to suffer this alone anymore. I guess because of my relationship to this person I feel they need to see how I feel for a while. How would they like it to have their heart ripped out of their body and attached to the bottom of their shoe like an old piece of bubblegum? Day in and day out. It's almost disheartening at times.

I want someone else's prayers to go unanswered.
I want someone else to carry the burden for a while.
I want someone else to be broken and hurting.
I want someone else to be confused at times and not hear clearly the voice of God.

I want someone else to be told "No".

You see... how ugly is that?? I may not have made sense through any of this... but I know what I'm getting at. Now that it's out I know I need to ask for forgiveness from God, but I'm not yet ready. This person will hopefully never know of the ill feelings I have toward their situation. I know it would hurt them deeply to think that I actually want them to be left in a lurch. I can't believe I even have that in me. It's so ugly. I'm embarrassed to admit it. But I have to get over myself and get back ontop of my heap.

It Just Doesn't Go Away...Journal Entry June 11, 2008

2008-06-11T09:45:00.000-07:00

I finally did it. I made the call.
I had to. Brian just doesn't get it. He's not being mean about it, but it just doesn't seem to bother him that Charlotte still doesn't have a marker.

It makes my heart ache. It tears me up, but I don't bring it up that often to him because, well, I don't know why. I was hoping that he would take care of it because he said he wanted to. But he hasn't.

I almost feel like if he did take care of it he could really pour himself into it. Feel a stronger connection to her, like I have with this blog. I know it's not realistic, it's not his way... but somewhere in my head I think that the bigger, the more detailed, the more ornate... the more loved. How dumb is that? I know one doesn't equal the other, but I couldn't go another week without acknowledging her.

So I called the cemertry and ordered one. If Brian someday decideds to replace it, then so be it. Not a big deal to pull it up and replace it. It's only $100 to do that. But the liklihood that he will ever get it done is looking pretty slim. The man on the phone was very polite, not the Caretaker we dealt with before. Although he was nice too. But this one sounded younger. I thought that maybe if I said our name, that he would remember... he didn't.

I had to slowly spell her name. I had to ask for her middle name to be included. I yearned to ask if "baby" could be placed in it somewhere, but I didn't. I knew there wouldn't be any room. But I wanted to quietly mention that she was a baby.

I guess I got my chance to when he said that they would also place the birth and death dates at the bottom. I asked if they could only say December 2006 and he said no because there was no space for it. Big breath in...

I had to explain to him that we had conflicting dates because she was stillborn. She died December 1st but was born December 7th. Could you PLEASE just put December 2006?

"Ok, I can do that".
"Yeah, thanks." let breath out...

He says it will be placed in sometime this week. Maybe in time for Father's Day?

I hung up and cried.
And cried and cried.

Somehow, I thought it could be done without emotion. But they are still running high. Just under the surface of my skin it feels like. They just don't go away.

**edited to add picture** this marker is so damn ugly. I was so sad to see it. But at least it has her name on it. Maybe one day we'll change it. ugh.

Journal Entry March 25, 2008 66 inches

2008-03-25T20:38:00.000-07:00

Sixty six inches. That's all there was. That's how many inches separated us this morning, if you count the flower can as 6 inches closer. I kneeled on the ground. I let my legs get wet and muddy. My knees were slighlty stained green. My face was stained drippy black. My fingernails were gritty with sand. I knimbly picked at the crabgrass around the flower can.

I was drawn there today. Out of compulsion, I drove there, found her plot and dug right in. Literally. I had no intentions of going there today, but as soon as I arrived, I felt this almost magnetic pull from the center of my being. It pulled me down to the ground. To get as close as I could to where she is. I wanted to lay flat ontop of her, but it was too wet. Not just damp, but really wet. So instead, I just kneeled and streched out. I had a clump of grass and dirt in my hand and the little roots that clung to the sand looked like her curly hair. I almost brought it home with me, but didn't.

I hardly ever go to the cemetery. But today, I just needed to be there. I laid my hands streched out on the wet grass and bawled my eyes out. One of the hardest cries I've had. Sobbing. Just sobbing.

I felt like I wanted to talk to her, tell her that I haven't forgotten her. Tell her that I love her. But she can't hear me. So I told Jesus. It didn't make me feel much better, but it helped a bit. I just needed to be there today. I needed to whisper her name. So many of the graves around her were decorated for Easter. Even those of the old people that have died at least 10-20 years ago. Somebody's mother, I'm sure. There's angels, fake flowers, candles... all kinds of stuff set out to mark the graves, but we don't even have a headstone for her. We wanted to get just the "right one" then let it slide from us. This was her Daddy's project. I was going to stay out of it. But then it was forgotten about.

I feel like such a crappy mom. Have I forgotten what she looks like? How did she smell? What did the weight of her feel like in my arms. I regret that my sister did not get to see her. My friends were there, but my sister should have been. I saw the dumb tin can for the flowers and noticed how the caretakers have edged the grass around it. I was thankful for that. That they are taking care of her. She's been there one summer already. But you can barely tell that she is there. The grass is green and lush. The plots are close together and there is nothing that signifies that my daughter is in there. Except the flower can.

There is a Magnolia tree planted nearby, so I took off a slip of a branch to bring home to transplant in our own back yard. I took off 3 leaves and put them in her can. I didn't have money to buy flowers on the way out there, but I thought this might show someone, anyone, that her mom visited her today. Someone does care still. I miss her so much.

Journal Entry: December 9, 2007

2007-12-09T21:47:00.000-08:00

I don't have anything imparticular that I feel I just have to get out tonight, but I wanted to detail the events of Friday night before I forgot. This is't a sad or mournful post tonight, just one to make sure I get it all down. The reason being is that I feel like the Lord's hand has been in this situation from the beginning, even to the night of her first anniversary. I need to write this out, so I never forget and for those that have followed can remember as well.

I have had a year to prepare myself for this night. A year to write something that would eloquently express my feelings. A year to think about the exact words I wanted to say to everyone that came to let them know how much they mean to me and how much their support has helped me. But nothing would come. I couldn't even muster up something cutesy to say. Nothing trite; nothing at all. This was the first indication that something wasn't going to happen.

So then Friday comes and I have my feelings all over the place. I was a little sad, a lot stressed and considered more than once to call the whole thing off. I felt like maybe I should, but equally felt like I HAVE to do this. I know that I can't go on like this forever, at every holiday mentioning her or holding onto every detail for the rest of my life. I know that she will never leave me, but I also felt like geez... how long is this going to go on? And I really felt like the people around me were/are thinking the same thing. I was cooking and cleaning and stressing out all morning. I was trying to have everthing prepared so when the time came I could "enjoy" the evening as much as possible. In the middle of finishing up the chocolate dipped marshmallows, I turned around and had the thought "I'm getting ready for a party that is not goig to happen. I'm getting ready for a gathering with no Guest of Honor." I then thought "It will only be a short while 'till I see her again. She's okay and is well taken care of and loved very much. It's as though she is on a trip away from me but someday I WILL see her again. It's ok for me to celebrate her even though she's not here, it's like she is having a going home party, kinda...maybe..." I was so comforted in that.

I'd once read somewhere a story from a bereaved mom. It was about a baby being with the babysitter and walking past the mom on the street. The babysitter was checking the mail a few yards away and the Mother watched her child with the sitter. The story was something like the Mother knowing that the baby was safe and going to return after a while. For some reason that has set in my heart with Charlotte. Like she's just gone yonder, but one day we'll be together again and I can rest in knowing she is okay. It probably doesn't make much sense, but I know what it means in my heart. Anyway, back to the night...

I fininshed the desserts and set the table. Brian walked in and commented on how nice things looked. That meant a lot to me. So we were going to get ready to go buy a real Christmas tree (which we were going to have to borrow money for...another topic altogether) and I went into the bathroom with Zach. I wanted to show him how to wipe down around the toilet (eeww...little boys!) and he starts screwing around in the bath tub. I barked at him to get out of it and just then...splat! He tripped and slipped and fell face first onto the bottom of the tub. I seriously thought he busted out his front teeth (which would have been much easier to deal with) but instead he split his chin open and had to get stitches put in.

Normally, in a situation like this, I would have gotten super mad and highly irritated. But I remained calm, strapped a towel to his chin and called Brian in. He, on the other hand was really upset. He went out to the front porch and sat with his head down. When I looked at him I could see frustration on his frame as well as sadness in knowing that the night was lost. At least that's what it looked like. We both knew we weren't going to be able to get a tree and even thought we weren't going to be here for the whole party. So off we go to the ER and found out it was going to be a 4 hour process at least.

When I checked the phone for the time, I saw that it was only 6:20pm and realized that the clinic was probably still open. I called the 800 # for the doctors office and explained the situation to the operator. She insisted that they would tell me to stay at the ER. I asked her to please check to see if maybe, just maybe we could get in. She put me on hold and as I waited, I prayed that the Lord would release a time for us to get in and see a doctor. The Operator came back on the line and said "I don't believe this. We have one appt available at 7pm." Of course you do.

While we were away, we had left Airenne with Mathias and called Auntie and Grandma to come over early to help her. Almost everything was set up, just a few details left. They assembled the remaining ornaments, took out the trash and hung the lights up. Before I had left, I took out the box of Charlotte's things and put them on my bed, intending to put a few things out on the table. I was *mentally* going over what was in the box and what I wanted to display for weeks. But as I was doleing out directions over the phone, I didn't have it in me to care what was set out. I asked my mom and sister to fininsh it up and just told them to put out whatever. My only true request was the blanket I had that matched the nightgown Charlotte was buried in. Otherthan that, I told them to do whatever.

Zach did great, took 4 stitches to the chin. We arrived back at home around 8pm. As we walked in, everyone looked to be enjoying themselves, yet not really knowing what was going to happen. Honestly, I didn't know what was going to happen either. I was completely embarrassed at how I looked. I had a house full of people (about 25-30) and was still in my sweats and tee shirt from earlier in the day. Hair a mess and no makeup on. I was planning to get ready after we got the tree, but alas, it never happened. So I high tailed it to my bedroom and Airenne followed. She had done such a fabulous job in hosting and greeting everyone. She was a real trooper. A few times that I had called to check on her, she was getting more and more nervous about us not being home and having to "host" in our absence. But she was fantastic.

I rushed to get dressed and she pulled lots of things out of the closet for me. Nothing seemed appropriate. I just couldn't decide what to put on, and it seemed like it was taking forever to find something. I turned my back to her and asked her how things were going and if she talked to Amy (who was sitting on the couch). She was on the other side of the room, near the closet and muttered "Yes, and I had a wee bit of a meltdown." My back was still to her and I said "To Amy?" When I turned around, I saw the most beautiful thing. Airenne was bawling and had her head bowed. I asked her to tell me why she was so upset, because I didn't want to assume anything. I let her know that I really care about what's bothering her, but she needs to tell me what's wrong. She just looked up with tear filled eyes and said "It's all just hitting me and I'm a little stressed." I was completely taken off guard. Airenne hasn't ever wanted to talk to me about what happened and quite frankly, I had been worried more than once that she was either internalizing all of it or it just wasn't important to her. When I've brought it up to her before she flat out told me that she didn't want to talk about it and that she just doesn't *get it*. It hurts me to hear that because it was a huge thing for our family to go through. But I never wanted to make it a big deal to her if she didn't feel that way. She's not the type of girl that opens up easily and if you question her or try to console her, she tends to walk away or pull back.

But that night, she made a hard walk to me and grabbed me and cried. She cried like I haven't seen her cry since she left the hospital when Charlotte was born. I held her and loved on her. I prayed and thanked God for allowing me to be her mom. I thanked Him for preparing her heart to become the woman He wants Her to be and for the sweetness she has. I cried with her so hard. Then it was done. She broke through. And I was there for it. Not for me to witness it, but as her mom who could love her through it.

The rest of the evening was weird. I felt totally out of place in my own home. I tried to make conversation with everyone, but couldn't really hold a thought. I knew I wanted everyone to sign our guest book (we use it for *special* gatherings at our house) but couldn't find it. Oh well. The rest was kind of a blur. I asked Brian to make an announcement to everyone, thanking them for coming and to say a prayer for our friends. He was visibly uncomfortable in doing this. There was a time when he wouldn't have been, but that night, he looked scared. We then passed out the ornaments I had made with Charlottes' feet in a clear bulb. Everyone seemed to like it and shortly after, people started leaving.

Later, my mom called to see how I was doing and told me that when she and my sister were getting the things out of Charlotte's box, my sister also had a melt down. My mom said it was pretty bad. I had considered that it may be difficult to look at those things (while I was in the ER) but dismissed it being a problem. I wasn't there and I wanted it set out. I didn't have a choice but to ask them to do it for me.

When my mom said my sister really broke down. I felt bad, but also felt like the Lord had used the night to heal a lot of hearts other than my own. I really thought/expected it to be about "me", but it wasn't. This is why things weren't working out the way "I" wanted them to. It wasn't about me at all. It never really was. He even removed me from the whole "party" so I wouldn't muddle things up and so He could do His work. Realizing this was the most emotional part of the whole night. He cares for all of us and is healing our broken hearts.

In the process of cleaning up, I have decided to pack away some of the things that have been around our home. There was a picture of her in my bedroom and one of me & Brian in the living room that was taken as we were leaving the cemetery. I also have a sleeping baby cuddled in Angel wings sitting on my end table in the living room that I will be putting in the flower bed in the backyard and I even put her book on the shelf. I'm going to go thru my computer and put all of her pictures in one folder, as right now they are all over the place on my hard drive.

All weekend I have felt like I am ok. This is behind me. We visited our old church today and saw many of our friends whom were tuned into all that had happened. One woman especially was a big support and encouragement and we spent the evening talking about it all. I didn't cry. I didn't feel bad for not crying. I actually turned the conversation to the future. I let her know I would like to one day have another baby. Hopefully a girl again. Not of course to replace Charlotte, but she was a different girl altogether. I am hopeful that this will happen. But it is all in God's time.

Journal Entry: December 7th...Happy Anniversary

2007-12-07T23:52:00.000-08:00

Birthday vs. Anniversary. For some reason I feel like anniversary is more appropriate. More memorable sounding.

So in the aftermath of todays events, I ahve much to write. But feeling somewhat like I did a year ago, I have much to say, but the thoughts are fleeting. There is still a mess in the dining area. Cake and coffee on the tables. Everyone gone. Me, alone again staring at the computer. Pounding headache. Hum, just like last year. even tonight, I finally felt a calm, peace had washed over me. Just like I did after Charlotte was born and taken out of the room for the last time. I feel like it's over. A little relieved about it, also feeling a little guilty about .

I've noticed twice that (no, wait; three times...) a time during the day when I felt peaceful and remembered what was happening last year at the same time. Tonight it was around 11:30pm after the last person left the party. I felt strong. ready to move on. Like I could take a deep breath and let it out. Last year was the same thing. Physically, I could take a breath and let it out and feel a huge relief simply from not being pregnant any more. But mentally too, I felt a burden lifting. It is over. She is gone. I have my answer.

But tonight is different. I've never experienced the feeling of closure before, but I think that's what I'm feeling now. My very dear friend asked me tonight "Now what. What's next?" I wasn't sure what she meant at first and I think she was a little nervous to ask. ((Bless her heart)). But what she was getting at was this: How much more is there gonna be? Maybe that's why I was grieving so hard the last few days, because I know this can't go on forever. I didn't want to let go of my grief. It was my last tie to Charlotte. I've been thinking about that too... what now? I sort of want to fold everything up and put it back in the closet. Take down the pictures and let it go. I'm looking at a beautiful card I received from my sister tonight. She had a woman hand make it for me and it is so pretty. It really captures the essence of Charlotte. The last line of the card reads "Until we meet again." I think that sums it up perfectly. We WILL meet again. And for now, she is such a lucky girl.

I'm so exhausted right now. I will have to come back and update with all of the crazy antics that happenend tonight. The hospital visit, the sutures, etc. But for now, I'm off to bed.
~C

Journal entry: December 2, 2007 The day after...

2007-12-02T14:44:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was so emotional. I was about to write bittersweet, but I hope that will be a better choice of words for Friday. Bitter and Sweet.

The day started with me knowing the date before I even opened my eyes. I wasn't sure if I was really stewing in some sadness or if it was just happening out of my control. But nevertheless, it was a day filled with tears.

I had comitted to taking the boys to a birthday party a few weeks back, when I thought the day wouldn't be too hard to deal with. It proved to be much harder than I imagined it could be. I was sad and agitated and stressed and just feeling lousey in general. I felt fat and ugly and lonely without my baby. All this past year I had thought of this day, and yet it seems like so much has happened in one year's time. Then, as the morning opened up, it all seemed to have happened so fast.

As I was getting ready for the party, I practiced over and over how I might say that I was doing ok, should anyone ask. I looked at myself through stained eyeballs and re-applied my waterproof mascara. I had snot all over my face and my nose was raw. I snapped at everyone, I felt nauseous. I almost didn't go to the party, but couldn't let the boys down. It was their first big boy birthday party and I thought it might do me some good to force myself to get out.

Brian's mom called and I couldn't bear the thought of talking to her. I din't want to hear her voice asking me if I was ok or hearing words of sympathy she had to say. Not for anything personal, I just didn't want to talk about it. I reminded me of the day we buried Charlotte and I tried to get into the van after everyone else was loaded up in their own cars. She caught me and walked across the street to give me a hug. I remember looking down the whole time, trying not to make eye contact with her, not wanting her to touch me or hug me. Isn't that wierd? The only person I wanted to touch me or talk to me was her son. My husband. Charlotte's daddy.

The irony of it all was that I had vowed not to bring it up to anyone at the party because I din't want to jump in the spotlight. It wasn't my day or my party and quite frankly it was anybody's business. I dried up my tears for a good while and no one could tell the wiser, I think so anyways. But there was a man there, the Birthday Boy's grandpa, that talked with me for a while. He was telling me a story about a woman and her children in an airport in North Carolina. Yep, you guessed it...in Charlotte, N.C. He must've said that name 3-4 times and each time I grinned a little inside.

After the party I got in the van and bawled. Maybe it was the warmth of the van's interior that made me feel safe, but man! I let it rip! After I got gas, picked up a vest I went home. I just wanted to be quiet. The boys had a great time and began to drift off in the car. Solitude.Or maybe moreso a sugar drop. When I got home, all I wanted to do was hug Brian. I needed to smell him and feel his strong arms. Even though he doesn't say much, sometimes all I need is a shoulder. His shoulders.

We had a minor altercation with A in the afternoon and she was pretty upset. I don't think she even knew why I was crying all day, not remembering what the day was. Then I wondered if she did know and how was she feeling? She's so tough to read. Part of it is her age, but she keeps things inside quite often. But I never talked about it with her. I didn't want to focus on it if it wasn't bothering her at all, but maybe I should have asked anyways.

Brian ended up making us dinner. We ate by candelight. He drank wine. How fancy-schmantzy. We never drink wine, but it was a nice touch. We hardly spoke of Charlotte. A while later a girl came by to pick up some stuff from Freecycle... Do you ever get the impression God is blowing you a kiss from heaven? Like He gives you a little bit of sweetness at the exact time you need encouragement? He did that for me again last night.

The girl came up to ge the stuff and I happened to be outside. Coco ran out to greet her and we spoke momentarily about her. Then the girl asks if I had recently had a baby. I said yes, but she died and she said "Me, too." I told her how sorry I was and we chatted for a bit more. I was slack jawed when she said it was one year ago, last night, that her baby boy was also Stillborn. We both cried for a minute and talked more. She ended up hanging out for over an hour with me and Brian on our front porch. The best part was that she is also a Christian and may start attenimg our MOPS meetings. I don't know why, but I felt so much better after she left.

The wekend after thanksgiving my grandmother said that I need to let this go. I was so annoyed with her. How can she possily know what this feels like. And if I'm not mistaken, doesn't she still cry for her husband? Whatever. But I do get the distinct impression some people think I need to "move it along". Oh well. I can't worry aout what other people might think. Hopefully they will nver have to loose a child.

A note from a dear friend...Nov 6, 2007

2007-11-06T20:01:00.001-08:00

I just got this email tonight. Bawled my eyes out. Gosh, I love her....

Hi Christine…Here is the note I wrote at the worship meeting Friday night. I can’t even enjoy worship for myself, God always gets me thinking about Charlotte. Hahaha! Here it goes….

About Charlotte,
She was yours, in your womb, but I think God gave her to all of us. Some have her memory tucked away in a safe place, our little miracle that reminds us that God is faithful. Sometimes our life seems too painful to remember that God does what he say’s he is going to. But Charlotte does that, reminds us. Christine, try to remember that your friends may not be able to talk about her because it is too painful for them. They may not have the ability to let her memory stay with them. They love you, but it hurts too much to remember her. It seems as though they have moved on, I am sorry about that. I’m sure it is just too hard for them….
Other’s like me think of her every day and have no problems talking about her. I can’t help it, I just do. God has made a place in my heart and life for Charlotte and your whole family. I will NEVER forget. You can always talk to me. That does not make me better than any of your other friends, it just means God wants me to remember so you have someone to talk to. I am honored. I love you and I am always here for you.
Lori

Journal Entry: Nov. 5, 2007 Just thinking

2007-11-05T20:47:00.000-08:00

So my tests came back normal. I was really relieved. No pomp and circumstance. Just a quick note in the mail:

"Test results are normal. Good news" signed Dr. Padero.

Uh, thanks; but did you know that you told me I could have a brian tumor!? A little stressed 'round here. Hopefully now things can get back to "normal", whatever that is. I've been feeling unusually weirded out lately. Not sure why. But I don't like it. I feel like I'm alsmost back to square one, just not crying as much. Maybe it's because things are unsettled at home. I've been arguing somethin' fierce with Airenne, Brian's work is crappy, the boys are all over the place. Am I loosing it?

I posted this on a grief support website. I got responses that I wasn't expecting. I had felt so alone. But apparently, I'm not.
********************************************************************************************
I'm just sitting her thinking about how much I'm on SG. I've moved to posting on the other boards, but I respond here sometimes and read eveything. It sucks to see the new girls here -all who have had a child die.I just feel like I'm not wanting to remember her. Not all the time, but I feel exhausted in the head over thinking about her. Sometimes I just want it to stop. So I fill my time with nothing, posting here and there about my other kids. Sometimes I actually feel like I WANT to forget. About her, about what happened. I want to pick up and move on with my life. Everything fell apart a little over a year ago when we found out that she was "sick". I'm just done with it. I didn't want to be in this club. I didn't want my baby to die.

My husband isn't the same. Sheesh, I'm not the same either. But we have nothing to show for what we went thru and I'm just ready to get back to the way things were. But they will never be that way again. His faith has been shaken, now he can't seem to get on solid footing with the Lord again. I haven't struggled with the "whys" or "it's not fair". Just the "this sucks".

I'm not angry at God or confused. I've grown spiritually by leaps and bounds because of this. But I'm watching DH go backwards and there is nothing I can do about it . When I think about having more children I think of the years that would be between my youngest son and a new baby. Not Charlotte in between. I've caught myself doing this twice. I feel like crap about it. She wasn't just a failed pregnancy, or an early loss. It's more than "the thought" of losing a promise. All of the what if's and never will be's.

I know a loss is a loss, in that we all suffer together, but she was a fully grown BABY. Ready to come home to a family that waited for her. That prayed for her. Now we have nothing. I guess tonight I am just pissed about it. I don't know what set me off. Sorry for the rant.
***********************************************************************************************

I've thought about this a lot. I feel so confused about things. Not where I stand with God, or why it happened, just that He's allowing me to sit in the pit for a while. I feel like I'm in quicksand.

If I don't move, maybe I can sneak my way out of it.

I want things to go back to the way they were before.

Then I finally opened my Bible to read a bit. I've been putting it on the back of my desk. I'd sit on the computer (more than I'd like to admit) and take my Bible out to church. That's been about it for a few weeks. So I'd had enough, and I was pointed to this:

The end of a thing is better than it's beginning; the patient in spirit is better than the proud in spirit. Do not hasten your spirit to be angry. For anger rests in the bosom of fools. Do not say "Why were the former days better than these?" For you do not inquire wisely concerning this. Ecc. 7:8

Ok. So He's put me in my place. I guess I'll get off now and read some more. *sigh*.

Journal Entry: October 27, 2007 Here we go again!

2007-10-27T00:44:00.000-07:00

In case some of you were wondering how long my roller coaster of a life was going to sit idle...strap in and come along for the ride (again) with me PLEASE!

I need your prayers. This year has been such a trial for me I almost have no strength left to start this again. And I really hope that I don't have to...Last year was a very difficult time in my life and so many of you held my hand (sometimes literally) and lifted me up to God thru prayers.

I found out during my pregnancy that there may have been problems with the baby, and I have to say that the 5 months of waiting was the longest ever of my life. And although we looked at her normally formed body, she was still called home to Jesus. Now, I have to wait for a couple of more weeks to find out some additional results from a doctors appointment today for myself.

Let me give you a bit of background, in that, I have never had any questionable mestrual history and all of my pregnancies have been uneventful, except for this last one with Charlotte. Anyway, for the past few months, my cycles were wierd. I haven't had a period since August, and even then it was really late. Anyway, I'm not pregnant and after a bunch of bloodwork, I was sent to the Endocrinologist (today). They checked all of my hormone levels and even for diabetes and all but one came back ok. The one that came back abnormal is cause for concern because from what I thought I'd read on line, I could be going thru early menopause. I'm only 32, so of course I was worried.

But after meeting with the doc today, she told me that it could be one of two things:
1.) would be that the labs were wrong. (My reading was in the negatives and should be way higher)
-or-
2.) there could be a brain tumor. Huh? Did you say tumor... in my brain???

I have to have more blood/urine testing done and if the levels are really low again, it may indicate a tumor near or on the Pituitary. She will then order a scan to see how large and what kind of tumor it is. If it is compressing or secreting, it will have to be removed. If not, then it will be monitored. Oh, I forgot to mention, on my dad's side both his sister and his grandfather had brain tumors, which they died from. I don't know which kind or where at exactly, but it still is freaking me out.

I don't know what to think. I'm actually feeling quite queasy about this, like I wanna puke.

I've learned that nothing is too big for God to handle and He tells me to leave my worries on the cross. But here I am again, asking for your prayers. I don't even know what to ask for other than a better reading, but I turn to you guys first. I think I'm gonna take a nap. ugh.

Forever grateful,
Christine

Journal Entry: October 19th, 2007 Addictions can be a beautiful distraction

2007-10-19T23:41:00.000-07:00

So at what point does an addict, realizing their addiction, become responsible for change? What if that person really enjoys their vice, thinks it to be harmless. recreational. A way to settle oneself down?

I've become an addict. I've got the gene tendencies for addictions already. I've got a reason to have one, something devastating has happened, and I've developed an addiction.

And although it's not to drugs or alcohol (sometimes I wish it were that easy to administer) it's still an embarrassing confession. How long have I known? Do I care? Is it something that is only affecting me?

I've turned this "thing" into a source of comfort. entertainment. joy. I get wrapped up in it's beauty of ananomity. It's charm of hope. But it is dead and it's taking me away from my family. So no, it isn't ONLY affecting me. It turns my attentions away from my children. It drives a wedge between me and my friends, it changes my attitude towards my husband. It consumes my day...for that matter, my night as well. It keeps me company. It fills in a gap.

Now I can think about what the true response to this should be. Turn to God. Cast my cares upon Him. Don't look in vanity for something to make me feel/or not feel in this world. Don't WANT to be DISTRACTED!

I realized last night of my need for distraction. It came on subtley, my desire to be distrated. I almost didn't even notice it. But then, driving home after a meeting about the teen mom thing, it hit me like a ton of bricks! I've been piling stuff ontop of myself to stay busy. Two full fledged Bible studies, the teen mom thing, the volunteering thing, the MOPS stuff. Not to mention forming my addiction in the process. Brian actually even noticed how "busy" I am. The house is a wreck, I feel lousey. I'm running out of steam. I need to let some things go.

It's really far out there, because my addiction is in direct relation to the problem of which I am trying to be distracted from, so I don't have to think about it. Almost doesn't make sense. I don't want to think about Charlotte all the time, so I am constantly busy, buit in the middle of finding things to be busy with, I (almost) obsess about Charlotte. SHE is not my addiction. She is the "problem". I couldn't believe that just 2 nights ago I had almost forgotten about her. Do you know how humiliating that is as a mother? How could I? It was only for a split second. But it hurt my heart!

I was sittingon the couch thinking about these health isssues I've been having and then I thought about how many years are between the boys. I've always said that I was pregnant 3 times in 4 years. That's a lot. But the other night, I was more thinking..well, Zach and Ty are a year and a half apart. So if we ever have another they will be more than a year and a half between them and Ty. How can that be? Wait, let me do the math...Oh crap! There was another. There was Charlotte.

This makes me feel like I've moved on. I've left her behind. Then up in my face is this health problem. I may now be pre-menopausal or infertile. Huh? I don't get it. So it snaps me right between the eyes with thinking about the children I do have. Did I or DO I want more? I asked God to take this desire out of my heart if I wasn't ever going to have another daughter. So now is He taking out of me physically? I wanted to make the decision. But I guess it's not up to me anyway. What was I thinking?

So now that it's out there, I have to make a choice. Is this worth holding onto? No. But I don't think I can let it go just yet. If I do, then I'm afraid all of the sadness and emotion will flood back over me. It's almost been like a lifeboat. I fell like I'll drown without it. Brian jokes, teases. But it is a real problem for me. I'm alone in this, I suppose. Like everything else, I have to go it alone, with out Brian. Can't even go there right now. I'd better sign off....

Journal Entry: September 16, 2007

2007-09-16T22:21:00.000-07:00

So I wander only so far, then I'm right back to these lonely nights. Maybe what set me off tonight is having the TV on National Geographic. Tonight's episode is going over the human body during pregnancy and the first 10 years of life. It's amazing. But it makes my mind wander. Will I ever be able to do that again?

There are times when I would do anything to have that "full of life" feeling again. Then I think about it and get confused with my emotions. Brian and I were briefly talking about another baby the other night. Sometimes I'll set up the conversation, sometimes I will bluntly ask if we are ever "going to" again. This conversation was unexpected. Sometimes he'll say something that my heart hangs on and I'll think about it for days. This time we were laying in bed, playing with Coco and he says "if we ever have another baby and she's a girl, she would be the Queen, huh? What would her name be? What would we name her?" When I suggested having her middle name Christine, he laughed. The name Charlotte was the closest I'll ever get, I suppose. And as lame as it sounds, sometimes I wish that we could name another daughter Nicole. I just love that name.

Well now my desk is wet. I hate nights like tonight. Maybe I should shift the focus to what I've been doing over the past month. There is light there.

What I haven't really elaborated on this blog is what I am doing with some teen moms in this area. After Charlotte's passing, I'd decided that I would give her things to a teen who needed them. I wanted to "give back" I guess. So I made a few phone calls and found out that there is more than one or two girls in high school that are pregnant. (Boy was that a surprise!) The school district has a program in place already for these girl to finish up in high school, but no other programs available to them. Nothing concrete anyway.

So I talked to a woman about starting a mentoring program for these girls and she was all for it. So that's what I'm doing. I am going to start another blog just for that purpose, but wanted to jot it down here just for reference. I volunteer once a week and am working towards building relationships with these girls. It's great to see God's hand in this as there are many "God things" that are happening with the start of this program. Too many to write about tonight.

Anyway, that's it for now. I don't think I can handle too much more right now. Oh, but I did decide to have a "party" for lack of a better word for Charlotte's first birthday. December 7th will be the day we buy and decorate our family Christmas tree. This first year, we'll invite our family and friends to come help us decorate our Christmas tree and ask them to bring a special ornament in rememberance of her. Nothing too killjoy. Just a simple way to acknowledge this past year. In reality though, I'd much rather have to wipe pink frosting off of two chubby cheeks. *sigh*

Journal Entry: One year ago...

2007-08-02T17:21:00.000-07:00

You know how this can be... the work up to it is always worse than what it actually is... but today has been one year. Not one year since Charlottes' death, or birth, I guess in that order... but one year since my life has been forever changed.

One year since I took the last breath of my own that has been replaced instead by God breathing in me and through me. One year since I've felt the strong- yet gentle -arms of Jesus carrying me. One year since I was drawn so close to God that I had no room to wiggle out... nor did I want to.

It's been one year since the doctors confirmed that something was wrong with my baby. A year ago yesterday I was happily pregnant, reviling in the joy of finding out I was having a baby girl. And I must say, in all honesty, it's changed for the better. I miss my baby so much, and not a day has gone by since last year that she is not on my mind. I am able to breathe again, but this time with the help of the Holy Spirit giving me the knowledge and sweetness of loving my life here on earth, but being totally willing to let it go, to be with my Savior, and my baby.

I am a better person for what I've learned. I'm a stronger person and more gentle too. I have been able to reach out to my community in a way that is God glorifying and just busy enough to keep my mind off of what isn't. The list of "firsts" is getting shorter and shorter. It's just a weird sort of day.

Journal Entry: July 22, 2007 We have another little girl in the house!

2007-07-22T23:26:00.000-07:00

We got a puppy!

She is officially my dog, but I am willing to share her with the family. I've named her Coco in honor of Lil Miss. My dad mentioned that maybe I should change the name, just in case something happens to her, it may be too hard to deal with. But I really enjoy saying that name out loud. It's what I would have called Charlotte.

So Miss Coco is tiny. Just about 7 weeks old and fits in the palm of my hand. She snuggles with me, lets me wrap her in a blanket and even lays on her back so I can hold her like a baby, cradled in the crook of my arm. I know it may sound lame, but I really am enjoying the baby-ness of something small and warm. The other night I was letting her gnaw on my finger...very sharp teeth, by the way... and she began to suckle on my finger. It surprised me because I'd never felt a dog do that, but it was really cute.

Her breeder mom sent her home with us with a receiving blanket and a stuffed giraffe. She cuddles up to the giraffe in her crate at bedtime and lets me swaddle her in the blanket while I sit watching tv. I was able to go into the closet and get out a couple of blankets that were Charlotte's and used those to line the bottom of her pen... Bittersweet.

I am so surprised at how much I love this little dog already. My heartache has lessened tremendously. I wish I would have gotten her (or another dog) about 6 months ago when I really needed it. I haven't had the *almost* obsessive thoughts of Charlotte like I was and I feel like all can be (at least) ok in the world again. I had started to get a bit scared about things latey and since she's been here I guess I'm just more distracted maybe?? But she definitely makes me feel beter. When I say scared, I don't really mean like paranoid, but I could work myself up to feeling like everything was falling apart. All of the sudden I feel happy, without guilt.

On the way home from getting her, I began to cry. Brian asked if my tears were because I was so happy to get a puppy, but they weren't. I was crying because I now had a dog in my hands, rather than a baby in my arms. It was a sad realization of the loss of Charlotte again.

But on a lighter note...she is so darn cute!

Journal Entry: July 2, 2007

2007-07-02T23:19:00.000-07:00

Don't know why, but a wave of sadness has enveloped me tonight. Must be because of the silence in the house. God, I miss Charlotte.

I don't even know what to write about, but I guess that writing for me keeps me closer to her. I know that she's gone and I don't believe that her spirit is 'watching over me' or any thing like that, but sometimes I wish I believed otherwise. My comfort has to be soley from Jesus, and I know that. I had wondered why He allows us to go through these trials and tests. Why He allows these thorns. But they are here to keep us drawn close to Him. But they hurt so bad. I know that He is our Great High Priest that completely sympathizes with our pain, but still, I sit here crying for a daughter I'll never know. She knew me and my every emotion. But I didn't know hers. All I knew is that she liked me talking and singing to her ...and shrimp.

I've been thinking a lot about the final few days I had with her, before she died. And after her heart stopped, how quickly those six days passed. There is a woman that contacted me who's daughter was not expected to live and they opted for a C-section at 37 weeks so they could have a chance to see their baby alive. Her story is that the baby was delivered and had multiple problems and passed away four days later. I am so thankful that I did't have a C-section, for selfish reasons..I'm a big 'ol chicken, but now I wonder what it would have been like to get to hold a live baby. Oh how I wanted a baby to bring home!

I'm glad to archive these days online, so I can go back and see where I was in my emotions at a particular time. The only thing that a computer screen doesn't show is the real tear drops on the page. That's good though, this page would be soaked.

So I found some loose pages of journaling that I found while clearing out my books the other day. I'll have to save those entries for another night. I'd probably be up all night reading those pages.

But I suppose I should write down what the geneticist said to me before too much time passes. She called the day of Charlotte's burial and said that the lab would be able to salvage enough of the placenta to do a partial panel analysis of the chromosomes to zero in on T18, but wanted to know if Brian and I wanted that testing done. She said that she knew how much we DIDN'T want testing done while I was pregnant and said she would hate to have it done and the results come up unexpectedly at a later appointment. I appreciated her efforts to put us first, but she did say that she would like to know...or something along those lines. I asked her to give me a bit to talk to Brian about it, she said ok, but we needed to decide right away because a few days had already passed. When I asked Brian if he wanted to have it tested he said no. That was good enough for me. I never called her back.

But in that conversation with her, I told her how the appointment with Charlotte's cardiologist was cancelled the day before (Thursday) and the day before that, everything was fine (Wednesday). I told her how scared I was to go see the heart doc on Thursday but I didn't know why. I also told her about the kind nurses at the hospital where I delivered. One nuse inparticular asked what I would need from her upon our arrival, emotionally speaking. I told her that all I needed was for her to treat our baby with dignity and respect, no matter what she was like when she came out. And she did. My last vision of Charlotte was of the nurse holding her like a baby, close to her and nuzzling her and walking out of the room, wrapped and ready to go. That's a beautiful thing for me to have seen. She was treated like a baby.

The geneticist said that it was awesome for me to have had that moment because if I had seen the Cardiologist that day (Thursday) and if she were to have seen anything troubling or struggling with Charlotte's heart, she would have ordered an emergency cecarean on the spot. Can you imagine... oh heck no! I am so thankful that didn't happen. The Lord was merciful even in that He didn't make me choose what to do. She also said that after Charlotte was taken from my body that all efforts would have been made to sustain her, because she would be an individual patient, with independent rights, and that what I probably would have seen is my baby being taken away in haste and transferred to another hospital. I cried so hard when she said that because I knew that would have meant Charlotte being poked and prodded and pumped. At least she passed away with out any pain. She was comfortable the whole time. She never struggled. There was no frantic movements or anything. Just a quiet passing into His arms.

See, writing this has help shore up the tears. I suppose I'll write more later.

Journal Entry: June 21, 2007 What should I tell him?

2007-06-21T21:13:00.000-07:00

All while Charlotte was in my belly, I tried to be honest with the kids as to what was going on. But the more information that came, the harder it was to break it down to Zach. I wanted him to know what was going on, but also wanted to protect him. TyTy really has no "visible" concept of what is still going on, but he can tell you the name of "the baby in the pictures". But really, I don't know what goes on in his little mind.

So when Charlotte died, she stayed in my belly for 6 more days. During that time, I didn't say anything to Zach. He knew that "Char-wit" had "owies" in her heart. We prayed all the time for her. But she didn't come back to us. My nieces knew what was going on, even to the point of knowing that she died. After we came home from the hospital, I was terrified that the girls would say something to Zach about dying/death/dead. We never explained it that way to Zach. All we said was that Charlotte went to be with Jesus. She is such a lucky little girl, yada yada. We made a big deal out of the positives of where she is, but not how she got there. I never said that Jesus took her because I was afraid that might scare him, that maybe he would get "taken" too.

Then one day about 3 months ago, I was talking with Zach, not remembering really what was going on at that time, and I told him that Charlotte died. I said the "D" word for the first time. He looked at me, half startled. Then I freaked (internally) and moved the subject along.

While driving around recently, I had all four kids in the car (the boys and my 2 nieces) and as we passed by a cemetery. Zach asked what that place was and Dominique replied by saying.."That's where Charlotte is at"... This has happened twice. I just kind of quickly told Nique that no, that's not the same place where Charlotte is (she's at a different cemetery than where we passed), and Zach quickly adds "Char-wit's with Jesus." Now I feel like I need to say more to him, but I have no idea what to really say. How much can a 4 year old understand of the separation of body and spirit? There is so much that I can say, how can I be gentle and not scary? I just fear that I may have made things worse in the confusion.

I was sitting at the computer yesterday, going over the pictures that Larry sent from DeVaul, the ones from the cemetery, and Zach walked up. I tried to put it off screen, but he wanted to know what I was looking at. It happened to be the one of the casket. Prior to my tweeking them and putting them on the blog, this particular picture had people in the background. I hesitated in showing it to him, but then I thought maybe I should. So I pulled it on screen, and sat quietly for a moment. Then he asked "what's that?" and I answered him "That's Charlotte."

The look in his eyes cut me so deeply. He couldn't understand where she was. He said that he didn't want her to be in that "box". "Take her out" he said. I think that scared him even more. Why was his little sister in a covered box? I tried to explain that she was waiting in there for Jesus to come back to take her body to heaven. I told him that the part of Charlotte that makes her happy and smile and love mommy and daddy and sometimes sad is the part that is with Jesus...but her bones (and I tapped his elbows and pinched his arm muscles) this is the part that is in the box. But one day, Jesus is going to come back and take her bones to heaven too. And when he does, "that's when we get to go be with Him and Charlotte. Won't that be great, we are going to go up high in the sky and be with Jesus in our castles..."

His next question was amazing to me. He asked which man in the (background) of the picture was Jesus. I was proud of him and sad for him. He knows that Jesus is a real man and is alive! But he also wanted to put a face with the person. I had to tell him that none of the men are Jesus and that He is back in heaven, waiting to come back to take us up there too. I just don't know if I should say anymore.

Journal Entry: June 19, 2007 Sometimes Chocolate Helps

2007-06-19T22:58:00.000-07:00

Boy, have I got some nerve. After all of that complaining about my weight, here I am, sitting in front of the computer at 11 o'clock at night eating a huge chocolate brownie. And man, is it good!

Today I got the pictures DeVaul spoke of from Charlotte's burial. I was so excited to see them, to see if it was what I remembered the day to be. And it was. But it was so very sad to me too. I put them into the online album for this blog. So now it's all together. Birth to Burial. I sent out a quick email to let some people know that there were some new pictures on it. But now I have to leave everything alone. I don't think it would be right for me to keep bringing her up to people, but I can't help it. They may want to move on, or already have. I'm trying to. I've actually made progress emotionally in my conversations about her. I'm able to now speak about her with out blubbering. Even if it's only one or two sentences. Baby steps, ya know?

So Father's Day was hard, but not for Brian; well, maybe for him, but he never showed any thing. The day ended up being hard on me. I had a very long and very good conversation with my Dad. He really put me in check on a couple of things. I needed that. We talked about "Lil Miss" and he was saying that he is very concerned for me. I appreciate that. He really let me have it in regards to my state of mind in what I had chosen to believe about Charlotte's demise. It totally surprised me that he does not agree with the possible Trisomy diagnosis. I felt like I was being pulled back onto my feet after falling down. He said it looks like I may be giving up on my conviction of all that God had told me and done for me over those months of carrying Charlotte. Maybe I did. But like I said, I was surprised that he felt this way because I thought I was the only person on the planet that still cared and felt a burden for the ultimate truth to be acknowledged. And that is that God was with me in the most tender and amazing ways during that time (and still continues to be). That He had a divine plan for Charlotte and that there was nothing in this world that I could have done to change the will of the Father. And clearly, His will was for Charlotte to not be of this world, but only for a moment. He reminded me of what a privilege it was for me to be chosen by God to walk through that situation. I really needed a kick in the pants on that. I'm glad it came gently from my dad.

But I suppose I should clarify that I have not given up on my faith or in the belief that God healed Charlotte just as he said he did. People (generally) don't realize that the miracle God has/had planned wasn't contingent on Charlotte living and breathing outside of my womb. But it's so terribly lonely in holding up this torch. In our limited human minds we can not fathom that God would let a little baby die, or that he would cause me to grow a baby in my belly to never let her live. But John 9:1-3 says that these things can be, in order to bring glory to God, that His works may reveal who He is in them. But people don't seem to get it. And it's hard to "keep that up" when it feels like people just think I'm crazy. So I've laid off a bit. Publically anyways. I need to go to bed. My sleep habits have gotten all messed up. I can't bring it back to where it should be. I'll write more later.

JOurnal Entry June 3, 2007

2007-06-03T13:48:00.000-07:00

Thinking about losing a few pounds (more like 25-30) has been on my mind a lot. Re reading my last post make me rethink the 6 pounds added (on top of my pre-pregnancy need-to-lose) because surely it must be more than that. Even my larger sized clothing is not fitting right. My gut is huge... all soft and jiggly. A goal of 25 pounds seems reasonable. I need to set a goal for myself, but I have no desire to exercise. If I could just do that, I'd be much better off.

I stopped at my friend's house the other day and as we were talking about losing weight and toning up, she mentioned how it's not like Mathias is so little that I could blame my extra chub on him anymore, and there is another woman in her group that has a 6 month old baby...now she has something to blame it on. I know that my friend wouldn't say something to me like that to hurt my feelings, that she just wasn't thinking. But that's what hurt most. She had forgotten that I too had a baby 6 months ago. I gently reminded her of that before she had her entire thought of it out of her mouth, but it's been nagging at me for five days now.

So I did make it out to see the girls this week. I was so glad I did. I went on a different day and met a girl who gave her baby up for adoption in December. She was so mature and approachable. I had a wonderful conversation with her for about an hour. I hope to be able to see her over the summer. She said that she doesn't have anyone to talk to and that her parents are not too supportive of her decision. I hope that we can become friends.

I talked with Brian's mom (DeVaul) on Friday. Just catching up on things. Eventually, the conversation turned to Charlotte and she mentioned that she took pictures of the funeral. I had no idea. On that day, if I knew, I probably would have not wanted her to, but now I am so glad she did. She said she would send me a copy of them as soon as she could. I asked her if there was a picture of the casket and she said yes. My mind flooded with the image of the casket and it's tiny handles. It was supposed to be baby pink but was so light, it looked almost white. And the dumb green tablecloth. All wrinkled and old looking. I can't help but wonder what Charlotte looked like in that tiny coffin.

Journal Entry: May 30, 2007

2007-05-30T00:44:00.000-07:00

I can't get over how good I've been feeling! Physically, not so much...but mentally pretty darn good!

Today Airenne graduated from 8th grade. That was weird. Seeing all of those kids all ready to go to high school kinda freaked me out. I 've been coming to the realization that I only have 4 more years to go until she leaves for college. Maybe she'll want to go somewhere local, maybe not.

While taking pictures of her and then waiting in the auditorium for things to start, I bean scanning through the camera to the old pictures. There was one of TyTy sleeping and there was such a strong resemblance to Charlotte. I had the photo album in my purse and turned to the picture of Charlotte that looked the most like him. I showed my mom and sister and they couldn't believe the similarities. It was really cute actually. And I didn't cry! I had a proud mommy moment and didn't bubble over. I wondered though if the people sitting behind me could see the pictures. I kind of hoped that they did.

I talked with Brian the other day about the whole Trisomy 18 idea. He doesn't think Charlotte had it at all. He thinks that she did have a faulty heart and didn't get enough nutrients to sustain her. As much as the acceptance of a Trisomy calmed me, hearing that Daddy doesn't think so also made me feel 100X better. I don't know why, it really doesn't matter. I honestly started to feel like I was throwing in the towel by accepting the T18 explanation, but I was ok with it because it relieved a lot of heavy stuff from my shoulders. I've been able to breathe like I used to and I've been able to reflect on Charlotte with a smile. I'm thankful that I can do that now.

Tomorrow will be a long day. I'm going to try very hard to get out to the Teen Mom program as I long to be with those girls. I need to make a consorted effort to be there, but now the school year is almost over. Hopefully, I can connect with a few girls over the summer. I might also join up with the Weight Watcher girls at the park. I really need to get my weight under control. I mentioned to Brian tonight that it sucks because I usually lose weight when I'm pregnant and even more afterwards from nursing...but this time I've gained weight after Charlotte was born. I think I looked ok even at her funeral, but now I've added about 6 pounds to my frame. Not too bad, but I can really see it. Brian chides me and says that there's more to love, but I know now is the time to get it under control. Uck, now it's in writing. I guess I'm on the hook now...

Journal Entry: May 26, 2007

2007-05-26T23:20:00.000-07:00

Well today I submitted a half hearted query to a publishing company. I sent it off with a "kiss" so to speak and asked God to put His blessing over it and if it is His will that I should write more, then I would be willing. I had prayed several times prior to the submission that if God wanted me to do it, that He open the doors necessary. And this may just be a small step through one of the doors that He's opening.

So today I was helping my mom clean out her garage and my brother's friend came over. He was with his mother and she got out of the car to chat for a while. She said to me, "You know, the last time I saw you , you were pregnant. So what did you end up having...a boy or a girl?" What surprised me was my ability to talk about Charlotte with out getting all weepy about her. I told the woman that we had a baby girl but she passed away in December. It was just like I'd rehearsed so many times in my head! The look on the woman's face was sheer heartache, but more so, embarrassment.

She apologized profusely and honestly, the most awkward moment was when I had to say..."it's ok." Because it's not OKAY. It's not ok that Charlotte's not here, but I wasn't at all upset by her comment. But what else can you say to someone? I've tried to say things like..."thank you for your concern" or "well, I'm ok", or simply "thank you"... but really, what can be said? I end up feeling like I need to comfort other person. So I tried to make the mood a little lighter by letting her know that Charlotte looked just like Mathias, who was running allover the garage, except she had curly hair. Then my mom chimed in saying how fair her skin was and that she had very dark hair. It was a sweet moment that we were able to reminisce in.

So I found out something pretty interesting. A woman I am acquainted with had a son that she lost to SIDS 20 years ago. I had no idea about it, but I felt a huge desire to open up to her. I emailed her telling her that I just found this out and that I too have suffered a loss. I was careful to not compare my loss of Charlotte and her not even being alive outside of the womb to the son she looked into the eyes of for 3 1/2 months. She was unaware of our situation so I gave her the blog address so she could check it out more for herself. After later speaking with her again in person, I felt as though we were placed in the same "circle" as to glean from each other. Actually, that's not totally right. I think God placed us nearby as to allow me to see a few things. She has written a book, which she gave me a copy of and I read yesterday. And although tonight I can't remember exactly what it was, there were a couple of spots that really had the tears flowing. Not just for the sorrow of her own personal story, but for the similarities in my own. I really felt a connection that I wasn't alone in my feelings.

So I've been thinking about a new (well, not so new) story in the Bible. I was thinking about Abraham and Isaac and how he had to take him to the mountain to sacrifice him. What struck me was how it actually ended up as a story in the Bible. Can you believe that Abraham actually was going to go through with it? I mean, I know that's the crux of the lesson..that he was willing to obey God at all or any cost. But what is amazing is the fact that he had to tell people about what had happened to them on that mountain. Can you imagine what that must have been like??? He had to confess this to his friends and family that he almost killed his son. And I'm SURE there were people that thought he was crazy!

Hush, hush, in a whisper>>>"Did you hear what Abraham did with little Isaac? Well he took him to the mountain because he said 'God told him to' and just as he laid him on the alter to slice his throat, a ram showed up! Lucky Little Isaac...he must have been terrified! What kind of father would do such a thing? That crazy old Abraham"...
Abraham was undoubtedly excited at the deliverance of his son. I can almost feel the emotion a parent would have as their child had been spared from death!; so who do you think he may have told first about his encounter on the hill top? The servant he left in the valley? His wife? His neighbors? Do you think many people were able to see past the obvious in that situation and drink in the providence of God? A ram stuck in a thicket? Like it wouldn't have been noticed otherwise? I wonder if people see things that way now in everyday life in the year 2007, or are their spiritual eyes not open?

I wonder how many times that story had been told before it was written into the Bible. (And thank goodness that it was!) What do you think people would say these days? That Abraham should have CPS called on him? That he should be put on medication for his illusions of grandure? That he was just a nutball? I just wonder...

Journal Entry: May 19, 2007

2007-05-19T00:13:00.000-07:00

I'm feeling pretty good these past few days. Accepting the diagnosis of Trisomy 18 has actually helped me tremendously. Maybe subconsciously I was so scared to allow that to be what the problem was that I actually was making my grieving worse...maybe??

I don't know. But I do know that it still doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. Her days were numbered by God and there is nothing more that I need to "know" about that.

So today was a blessing, but I became exhausted. Some of my friends and I did a "cooking club" type of thing and had a lot of kids underfoot. I thought about how this must have been what women used to do back in the day to get their chores done, like grinding grain and things like that. I had a really good time. At one point, 2 different people asked me how many kids I have and I answered 3. The first time, I surprised myself at how fast I said it then the second time I heard my voice crack. So I just kept right on dipping my chicken and rolling it in the Crispies, didn't look up as I felt my eyes get misty.

Then someone else asked if we were going to have more kids. It was such a normal question and I actually appreciated that someone was able to ask me and not feel weird about it. But I told them that maybe, whatever God has in store for us we're ok with.

It just feels good to get back into things. I hope this lasts for a long while.

Journal Entry-Mothers Day 5-13-07

2007-05-13T00:30:00.000-07:00

It's so strange that I felt like I wanted to hide tomorrow. I was almost getting sick about it. I don't want to go to church as there will be baby dedications and I don't think I can handle that just yet. More so, I don't want to have to field the "I'm so sorry" things people are bound to say. That makes me cry just as hard as when I work myself up into a frenzy by thinking about her. But in a completely weird way, I want everyone to remember; but no one to mention it.

So... comfort came to me in the most unlikely place yesterday. I'd (kind of) decided to "get better" and focus on other things, good things, when I got an email from the Trisomy 18 Foundation. >>>I thought it was funny because all while I was pregnant, I didn't receive any auto emails or anything from them, but since Charlotte has died, I've gotten at least 2. And it seems like every time I make a consorted effort to not make this the center of my being, something gets brought up about it again<<<

Until yesterday I had really tried not to look at things involving Trisomy research because I didn't want to think that Charlotte had that. I don't know what I wanted to think she had. I believed that God would/had healed her from her problems, and that, like I wrote to my dear friend, all it would do is assign a name for what was to be the cause of her death. I still think that it doesn't matter what/if she had something because God is sovereign and her time with me was exactly what it was supposed to be... for the exact length of time. But I guess I felt , that if it had a name, it was bound to be true.

So instead, I stuffed it.

That's hard to admit, REALLY hard to admit, because now it's out there. I've let my secret out. I just realized while I'm typing that I was so tightly holding onto this little piece of whatever, that I was actually choking in it. I didn't want to believe that Charlotte could have something like that because God is so wonderfully beautiful (and He is...) that he wouldn't have given that to her. That was for someone else. I wanted to spiritualize every bit of everything to have meaning and significance, to show how marvelous the Lord is.. that He does create and take away, sometimes for His good pleasure, albeit without our "approval". And I do still think that. But if, in this earthly world, there needs to be a name of what happened, I guess I would probably say Trisomy 18.

The reason why I think that was not only because of the ultrasound findings, but because after looking at all of those other babies pictures and stories, there are many similarities. Birth weight is one of them and there are a couple others. But "naming it" doesn't take away her purpose or the fingerprint that she left on so many hearts. It's just naming it. Like I've said before, it's likened to how we as humans have found out what a rainbow is. A bunch of prisims that catch light. But God says a rainbow is a promise...and I still CHOOSE to believe him.

It is such a juxtaposed position that I'm in because I really believe that God had heard my prayers and answered them, because I was terrified to have a baby that was all "messed up". I know that is completely selfish. I know how harsh it sounds. And I even now, I would rather have Charlotte here with me today with a completely disfigured body than to not have her at all. Maybe that was the blessing that I got out of it. My "token" for a job well done. I was able to see and hold and kiss her and look upon her with beauty rather than fright. I doubt now if I would have even noticed any of her disfigurements if she had them...I have the eyes of a mother.

I declined an autopsy, I declined genetic testing when the Genetic Tech called said there may be enough placenta to do a partial panel test, I declined speaking with other parents that had children with a Trisomy. Then I saw this web page. I don't even know how to say about what I felt like seeing those babies. Some had very serious malformations, some looked perfect. Just like Charlotte. I didn't know what to make of it.

I was almost angry that they did look so perfect because these were "sick" babies. Why didn't they look sick? Charlotte didn't look sick either.

So today I've been pondering some more. I keep thinking of two things in particular: 1.) "If even evil men know how to give good gifts to their children, how much more then, will God give you the Holy Spirit if you ask (my paraphrasing) and 2.) Be careful of what you attribute to as blessings from God.

I'm still working thru those thoughts, mulling them over. What I think that means (of course I get it on the surface) is that not every "good" thing is from God and that I need to be mindful of that. Just because I perceive something as "good" doesn't mean that it is a blessing from God. I'm not sure how to diagram it to make sense, but that's what I've gotten so far. Like I said, I'm still working it out. ...Ok, so it's like when a begger asks for one more drink, or high, or whatever, and they score it, then say that God blessed them with it. That's not rue. So now I need to look at: what have I done in that area?

So now, tonight, I'm actually looking forward to Mother's Day. My family has come to visit and we'll be doing brunch. But I still am avoiding church tomorrow...

Journal entry: Five months already....

2007-05-08T11:07:00.000-07:00

Before I even opened my eyes yesterday morning, I realized it has been five months. I wasn't even out of bed yet,and somehow, on the horizon of becoming conscious, I knew it had been 5 months. Maybe if I keep saying it, it won't be. But it has been. Five months.

Hard to believe because I feel somehow stuck in time, somewhere in January. But five months is a long time. I'm sure if Charlotte were with me, I would be counting down the time left of having to nurse her. I usually got bored with it around 4 or 5 months...just wanting to be "me" again. Wanting to fit back into my normal clothes and bras.

I've noticed that I'm really trying not to think about her. Weird to "think about" not thinking about something. It seems like everything else in my world has gone back to normal. It's good in a way. But kinda sucks. I wonder if people have forgotten her. I've noticed that people don't want to hear about her anymore. Or at least that's how it seems. No one has said it directly, but it's the vibe I get. So instead, I'll pour out my heart here and if people are still interested, they can look for themselves. I don't want to push us onto anyone, but we are still here. Well, I am anyways.

So generally speaking, I think I feel ok. I've had a few meltdowns in really weird ways. Not directly attributed to Charlotte, but underlying, I suppose. But they were biggies. Mostly dealing with Brian. I have never felt towards him the way that I did over the past 2 weeks. It doesn't help that sometimes he says really insensitive things to me like "aren't you happy with the 3 kids you have here?" Well of course I am. But I still have one missing. And so do you.

I was in making my bed a few days back and I just kept thinking to myself that I wouldn't care if Brian left me. Really. I felt like I wouldn't care. Go ahead, leave. Leave me alone. Take the kids. Just let me be. Then I could almost feel a tap on my shoulders telling me "No. I have blessed you with a husband and children. You will not destroy that." And really, I don't want to . I know that I love my family and have fought like hell for them, but occasionally I want to be by myself. And Brian hasn't tried to leave or said that he wants to, but I wouldn't blame him if he did.

The irony though, is that he has been so much more affectionate towards me, way more than usual. Telling me he loves me very often. I don't want to hear it sometimes. It almost feels like "too little too late". Where have you been in my hurt? Where is your hurt? I've asked him to not give up on me, even during my times of icky-ness. And when I start to feel better towards him, I'm ashamed of how I did feel because I know that we are grieving in different ways.

I am making myself get up and go, and do, and be; but that's exhausting. And when I am going and doing, I feel fine. It's when it gets still and quiet that that thoughts creep in. I found a grief support website that allows me to be me, in the moment. But I've realized that if I'm not careful, I could get sucked into all of that. I don't feel like I'm as distraught as some of the moms there, but I definitely get more support from them than from those who have never gone thru the loss of a child.

A friend of mine reminded me that this is just a part of who I am now. It doesn't have to consume me. I guess this is just a sentence in the story of Christine. I'm ready to turn the page,.

Correspondence/ Re: How're you doing?]

2007-04-29T05:00:00.001-07:00

=====================
From: Rebecca
Date: 2007/04/12 Thu PM 02:31:48 CDT
To: Brian & Christine Curry
Subject: Re: How're you doing?

You are blessed to have no crisis of faith. Still, the waiting is hard. This whole seeing "through a glass, darkly" thing that the Bible talks about is certainly one of the most difficult things about this life. I guess I'm impatient. Waiting on God's timing and His perfect answers has always been difficult for me. I know in the Bible God says He KNOWS the plans he has for me, and that those plans are for good, and not evil. My human nature sometimes can't help but think that it might be easier on me if I KNEW his plans, too! Still, thank goodness He runs the world with His wisdom, instead of ME doing it. I'm quite certain I'd mess the whole thing up!

Sounds like God is doing a wonderful work in your Spirit. I'm certain with your attitude and focus, you will not be "stuck with this" empty part for your whole life. I know the goodness of God, and I know it's not His will for you to live your whole life with this ache, as He has said his will for us is "shalom", which translates to "nothing missing, nothing broken, perfect peace".

I'll keep you in my prayers and pray for you to allow your will to be conformed to His perfect will. I will pray for you to yield, and wait, and grow in patience. I will pray for your "shalom".

~Rebecca

==================================================================

Brian & Christine Curry wrote:

How sweet your words are. Thank you for not being 'one of those people';) . Last week was hard. Probably the hardest yet. I (obviously) am not shy about what's going on in my life and I just love and trust you guys so much that I knew I needed to ask for help. I didn't know grief could be such a slippery slope, I hadn't ever had someone close to me die. And honestly, my feelings came outta nowhere. There wasn't one single thing that set my tail spinning, just everything I guess. I was just plain sad.

I have to say though, that through those days, or since Charlotte's beginning, for that matter, I have not (extensively)questioned God. I think there have been other people close to me that have asked: "Jesus, where were you?" and I just don't know what to do with that. It's weird to be trying to comfort and explain things to people who have been so touched by what's happened.But really, I haven't had confusion or anger towards God for what has happened. He so clearly spoke to my heart those months that I know I could trust Him even though I don't understand His plan...yet.

During that time of waiting, I was afraid of one thing. That is: if Charlotte were to pass, I would be "stuck" with it for the rest of my life. I wasn't fearful of loosing her, or having a child with special needs, but of the constant void she would leave. I knew this would be with me for the rest of my life. At that time, I just wasn't sure that I could continue to "run THAT race".

Then, last week I thought about Paul and his thorn. Rather, thorns in general. Why does God allow them? So we will be ever at His side. Constantly going to HIM in prayer to relieve our pain, or to guide us. And that's literally what I've had to do. It honestly can be so tiring at times. That's where my frustration (and sin) come in. I want to handle it myself >>pride<<. I don't want to have to pray and wait. I don't want to have to seek after Him. But really, what choice do I have?

I have full confidence in the sovereignty of God (which is very comforting to me)but that doesn't take away the pain completely. I feel totally blessed to have been "chosen" to carry Charlotte and all that she was meant for. And really, I had an advantage over a lot of parents who do not know that their baby will not come home with them. But it still sucks.

This week is much better. I've decided (like your friend) that I will have some good days. I've almost gotten to where I can speak about her without crying. Not that it's a bad thing to cry, but I am mindful of the joy that she brought to me. No matter how brief. And if God does everything to give Himself glory, then my little girl served Him (literally) with all of her heart! I'm so proud of that...

Anyway, I just wanted to thank you for contacting me. Hopefully we can connect soon.
XXOOXX Christine
=====================
From: Rebecca
Date: 2007/04/11 Wed PM 01:48:47 CDT
To: Christine Curry
Subject: How're you doing?

It's been just over a week since you asked the group for prayer. I was just checking in on you to see how you are doing. My friend Michelle lost sweet baby Jack seven years ago. He was perfectly healthy, but breech. She elected to try turning the baby. Somehow during the process the cord got a knot in it. He passed three days before his birth. I saw the stages of grief she went through. I saw her plow through life as usual, just trying to go forward. I saw her wail, "Why Jack? Why us?" I was glad when she and her husband decided that someone needed to watch the kids so they could get away for a quiet weekend together...after a few months of trying to get back to life as normal, she just needed to stop and admit that life was NOT normal.

She came back from the weekend at the beach/mountains (Crescent City) much changed, much calmer. She and her husband went down and ordered a pendant made from the birthstones of everyone in her family, including Jack's, and she wears it so he'll always be next to her heart (kind of like a "mother's ring", only Michelle's not a ring person).

She was pregnant again three months later, so the next year was hard as she did all the same yearly things, pregnant again, only with a different baby this time. The most important thing she did, I think, was to talk with her husband about the fact that 80% of marriages where a child is lost end in divorce. They made a promise right there, right then, that their marriage would not end in divorce. That reassurance helped her.

Why am I telling you all this? To let you know that it is possible to continue. She's still sad every time Jack's birthday comes around. She was weepy the year he would have started kindergarten. But, she does live her everyday life choosing not to be bitter. Not to waste the days she has with her children wishing for the one that isn't present. And she has admitted to me that some days that is a very difficult, conscious choice that she has to make. The pain is dulled, but still surfaces sometimes, even seven years later. Yet, she is happy and satisfied with her life. Perhaps her story can encourage you.

There is a verse in the bible that is famous for being so short. "Jesus wept." It's in John 11, I think. WHY did Jesus weep? Because his friend Lazarus had died, and Lazarus' sister Mary was weeping and grief-stricken. Her grief caused him to "groan within his spirit". Even though he knew he would bring Lazarus back to life, he was still exceedingly saddened by Mary's grief. And this, even after she accused him, "If YOU would have been here, my brother would have LIVED." So if you have had moments where, despite your faith, you have thought, "Lord, if YOU would have been here, my daughter would have LIVED.", know that He is sympathetic toward the grief of you, Christine, His daughter.

I'm so sorry that grieving takes time. I'd speed it up for you if I could, so that the pain would dull from the passage of time. I once again extend the invitation for you to e-mail or call me if you need to talk. I may not always know the right thing to say, but I don't want to be one of those people who says nothing just because I may not get it exactly right. -Rebecca

Journal entry April 28, 2007

2007-04-29T02:58:00.000-07:00

Tonight we had to the Mathias to the ER for a couple of stitches. He bumped his head playing around with his big brother...so off we went.

After the Doctor closed him up, the nurse came in to wash his head as best as could be. He had dried blood everywhere, including on my fav white tee, but I don't care. I held him close on the way home and kissed him as gently as I could. I couldn't help but to remember the smell of Charlotte's undershirt the hospital had sent home with us. Mathias' hair smelled just like it. Uck. Hospital smell.

So the past few days have been really hard. I wonder if Hospice Staff or Grief Counselors at hospitals warn parents of the high separation rate of couples who experience the loss of a child. It's so hard because Brian and I are on such opposite ends of the spectrum. I seem to be ebbing and flowing with my grief and he is well, not doing much that I can tell. I would like to think that he is hurting a lot on the inside too, but it doesn't show very much. He told me tonight that he people at his work could give a rip about Charlotte dying and that breaks my heart. He said he only had 2 weeks to mourn her. And it seems like he's done with it. But unfortunately, I'm not. He told me yesterday that I have so much to be thankful for. I know that! But don't tell me that because I have 3 other kids that I should be ok that only one isn't here.

I was pondering on the story of Job the other night. I need to re-read it for all of the particulars, but I was wondering how long he was really going thru his trials. Months, days, years? The answer seems obvious, that it took years for him to be restored, so how long will it be for me then? I know this is brand new for me, but it's very hard. Some days I'm fine, others I'm not.

I was thinking of how the Bible says that God will only give you what you could handle. He will never "overload" you. During my pregnancy with Charlotte, I felt so anxious about what ever was going to happen that I thought each day I had reached the end of my rope. I couldn't take another minute of this agony. But then, God gave me another day. And then another. And then another. Right up until December 7th. That was the day when He said "no more". But I wonder... does He know that I might have been able to hold on for a little longer? Just to have another night with her inside me? Dead or alive. Just to be able to hold her again when she came out. To really look her over, instead of being afraid to look at her because of the condition of her skin. To soak her in...

It's strange to me to be having these thoughts and feelings. I spoke with a friend of mine yesterday and she noted that I may not have dealt with the physical loss of Charlotte yet. I think so too. I'm completely ok in the spiritual area of this loss, but physically, I'm a mess. I didn't know one could come before another in dealing with grief. It's hard to explain. I go thru my day and catch myself thinking about how this is probably the time that I would be nursing her back to sleep or my arms sure would be strong from carrying a chubby baby in a carrier from place to place. Instead, my arms are empty of Charlotte.

When I came home form the hospital, I was aware that my milk would come in and that I would be sore. What I didn't know was the literal feeling of longing and hurting to hold a baby. And not just any baby, but my baby. My arms felt like I was carrying 5 pound weights in my fingertips. Just a long, achy, heavy feeling. Nothing soothed them. The only thing that came close was holding Mathias. I think there is some kind of chemical reaction between mothers and their children and the sense of smell, maybe? It was interesting because the days following Charlotte's birth, I was around little babies. It didn't bother me to hold them, per se, but it didn't help me. The only thing that even remotely made my arms stop hurting was to hold (and sniff) Mathias. My flesh, my bones, my blood. And I seriously mean that they hurt in wanting to hold a baby... like they were bruised on the inside.

I also thought it was so unfair to have these huge breasts so full of milk and no baby to suckle it out. I craved that. But what I had to do was even worse. In the middle of December, when it was really cold outside, so much so that I had to wear 2 tee shirts and a sweat shirt and pants, I had to put huge bags of ice on my chest to lower the fever in them. It sucked that I couldn't even accept hugs from people at her memorial because I was so sore. I was careful to wrap myself tightly during the day and to take only lukewarm showers with indirect spraying on my chest. But the first time I saw milk leak out I cried thinking "what a waste". I had problems with Mathias getting enough and here I am so full with no baby. I had prayed all through my pregnancy to have abundant milk for the baby. Well, my prayers were answered.

Looking back, even while I was transferring over letters and journal entries onto this blog, I was reminded of the goodness and sweetness of God. I have not gotten mad at him for taking "my" baby. But I have wondered a lot of other things.

I skipped over many weeks of journaling, which now I wish I hadn't. Not that anything stands out in my memory to write about, but that I just didn't write period. And now when I do, my thoughts are everywhere on the page.

Another friend of mine said how lucky I was that I hadn't had a crisis in "faith". Reading back on this blog, I can see where I did have a crisis though. I truly wondered if God was doing all that I thought He said He was. I doubted more of my "interpretation" of things rather than Him, personally. And some people just plainly didn't and still don't get it. Which makes it hard to explain how I feel. They think that I was in some state of denial over what truly happened to Charlotte. I like I'm not aware that she had problems and that she's dead. Like I couldn't handle it. Some people think that I was not "ready" to let go when her heart stopped beating because of my feelings. But it wasn't EVER that. I have never before in my life been so clear thinking and understanding of things except during those few months carrying her.

I was ready. I had been ready for quite a while for this to be over. Not for her to be gone, but just to have the situation over. What I was afraid of was the hurt afterward, which is what I'm trying to deal with now. And even if I was grasping for straws, so what? I challenge anyone to go thru this and not hold onto what ever they could. But this is the difference, I believe that God had a plan for Charlotte and that whatever it is, it was for His glory. I may not understand it now. I may not like it. But that's why He is God, and I'm not.

Journal entry Jan 30, 2007

2007-04-23T01:04:00.001-07:00

Well, I ran out of time the other night, but it is important that I finish writing what the water guy had said. I was taken aback at what he said. He asked me how I was doing and was VERY intently looking into my face. When I said I was fine, he asked if I was really ok. I said yes again and that's when he told me that my sister told him what happened. Oh, I thought. Well, how much did she tell him? Then he asked me what the baby was/ a boy or a girl. OOhh, so she told you. "Well, she was a girl. "

He said that he was sorry and then asked if I knew what grief turns into. What? Who is this guy? I answered "anger and bitterness". He said: "Over time, mourning turns to grief. And grief, if not dealt with, will turn to sin. Sin will start to question all that God has done and all He has said." I was floored! He addressed all that I had been dealing with the past 2-3 days!

Tears flooded my eyes. He stood there speaking such comforting words. He also said that ..."Under the old covenant, God gave people 30 days to mourn. After that time period, He declared it was enough. Time to move on. He has done what He wanted. It's time to get on with it. (My paraphrasing in that last portion.) He also said that Jesus said (well, maybe not that Jesus said, I kind of forgot) But he did say that "a seed has to die to produce fruit. That Jesus had to die & be placed into the ground to be able to reap His crop". He said Charlotte was also a seed and we need to just be watchful of the harvest the Lord will bring forth through her. He told me he has been praying (since last week, when Jenni told him at my missed appointment) & that there will be people that I don't even know that will come to me to tell me how her life has affected them.

He came full circle as to what I had been dealing with. All of it. Questioning Charlotte's real purpose, my questioning God in the midst of my pain, etc. After he left, I went to my bedroom and dropped to my knees to pray. I thanked God for sending me a messenger directly. One who spoke to my heart- in just the same way that He had been doing over the past few months. The best part was that while I was praying, I felt the "wall" come down. I had been still praying during the past few weeks, but felt as though my prayers had been bouncing off the ceiling. But it was all cleared up. All had been restored.

What really surprises me is how constant my thoughts are of her. I almost feel like I'm on the verge of forgetting her- then I SNAP back into thinking about her. I could be in the middle of a conversation with someone and it's like she's sitting right on my shoulder. No matter what, I'm CONSTANTLY thinking about her. But I've had to ask God to keep her in the proper perspective of my reality. I don't want to be consumed by her. To set her in my heart as an idol. Jesus is so much bigger than that. He deserves to be thought about much more than she.

Tonight Brian verbally said he would like another baby. I tried to contain my joy, I didn't even want him to see my smile, so I turned to the side- I felt such a relief! Not that I'm anywhere near ready, but to know that he would be ok-actually that he would WANT another baby made me smile.

I felt more confidant in that it wasn't my fault what happened to Charlotte. I know it wasn't but sometimes my head keeps whispering ...."I N F E C T E D". Is that Satanic, or what? Lord Jesus, set me free...

Maybe in 3-5 years, maybe longer. I don't know. I just know that I don't want to be scared to be with Brian or to get pregnant. It wouldn't be right to not trust in God's judgment and timing now, after all I've been lead thru. But I would like to let my body rest and heal up a bit. I've had 3 babies in 4 years. I want to strengthen my tummy. I don't want any complications with my health.

But the water guy (maybe prophetically?) said that perhaps the Lord would bless me with twins. HA! At first, my fleshy reaction was "Heck no! Two babies?" But deep down, my heart jumped. Why not? It would be exciting. I've always (secretly) wanted twins. But it doesn't run in my family. Maybe for Airenne. Anyway, it's in God's hands. Maybe we won't ever have anymore children. I don't know, only time will tell.

Another thing that I never admitted to, was that night, when I had my "breakthrough" after reading about Hanna in the book of Samuel, I DID continue to read the rest of the story. Hanna HAD to release Samuel as a child into the ministry to the Lord. At the time of writing the email, I skipped over the relevance of that because I wanted to believe that Charlotte would be whole. And she was. But she was also called to serve the Lord, the way HE wanted, WHEN He wanted. I suppose writing this now looks like I'm flip flopping, but I'm not. I'm not just looking for comfort. But I do need to address all of my feelings. And now I do feel better at least documenting this whole thing.

My comfort/joy comes in knowing my body was used as a living sacrifice as my reasonable act of service to Jesus. I hope He is pleased.

That day, I also prayed for clarity. To still my thoughts. To quell my fears, etc. He has.

He is so faithful.

Journal entery Jan 11, 2007

2007-04-22T23:31:00.001-07:00

Writing in a journal is very therapeutic, but also wrought with anxiety. At the end of each of my "sessions" I feel I've relieved a great burden, but at the thought of my next entry, my mind scrambles to find just the right words or phrases. It shouldn't be that hard, but sometimes it is. I want to make sure I document everything just right.

So, there yet again have been a couple of instances where I knew I should write them down, but I haven't until now. Now I'm afraid I've forgotten all of the particulars that made them so meaningful.

Anyway, on Tuesday- 2 days ago- I went shopping with Kim. Eventually, the conversation turned to Charlotte and I began to express my concerns over all that has happened. I wondered out loud if I had really heard from God, or of I made a big deal over what would be "nothing". Did I hold onto what I believed God said because I wanted to believe something so bad that I essentially made it all up? The reason why I ask is because of the abrupt finality of everything. I want to know, "Did I do it right?" So, over the course of our conversation, I said how I felt ok and I wasn't sure if I was normal. Was I in denial, or was I really ok?

Of course, I can conjure up tears- mostly outside of myself, without trying to. (They just happen sometimes). And of course I miss Charlotte and am sad that she isn't with me. But overall, I feel like I'm ok. Kim said she thought it was ok for me to feel like I was ok, and it was time for me to move on (those are my words, not hers) Anyway, when I was driving home, I thought, "Humm..., 'my time to mourn is over'. Maybe I should take off the locket ." But I also I felt that maybe I should wait, like I should make sure I was ready to part with it. So I came home and got ready for Pastor to come over. >>Pastor Johnnie suggested (strongly) that Brian and I should get some counseling and that Pastor H was great at it. I figured he was right and that it would probably be a good idea.<< So, Pastor arrived before Brian got home from work. I was glad though, because I wanted to ask him some questions without anyone around. Now, I wish Brian had been there.

I laid it out and asked Pastor if he thought I had made "something out of nothing" Did I blow this whole thing up myself? Did I really think God was really doing all of these things-why to choose us, why to choose me-why this way? Or was it just a "natural" thing. His answer had me grappling for a few days. He said that (basically) yes, and no, that I made it a big deal.

No, because my faith was real and that it was an example. Even if it wasn't the way I wanted it to turn out. But yes, because the things that I thought I had heard, and from the confirmation of that thru scripture, could not be true; for MY name was not written into the Bible. That basically, I took the stories out of context. Afterall, they were literal things that happened to other people, but not to "Christine Curry" . Perhaps to make them fit into what I wanted/needed them to fit. This hurt so much because I had believed them to be true. The reason I asked was more for a "checks and balances" system to make sure I wasn't "loosing it". But pastor pretty much had said that I'd already lost it. These are my words, not his, but I think I need to speak with him again to get a more clear understanding of what he means. I don't want to end up like an alcoholic that never believes they have a problem. I want to check and balance it out.

Now, I understand the concern over spiritualizing things and taking things out of context, but I thought all my lights were green. Anyway, shortly after Charlotte died, Lori came over and brought up the story of David and the loss of his child with Bathesheba. Once David learned that his son died, he didn't freak out like they thought he would. Instead, he got up, washed his face and went to worship the Lord. It was so comforting to know that it was ok to do that. I felt like I has someone else do it, a Godly man, so it was ok for me too to feel that way. I wonder if people think I'm crazy. Poor Christine, or what? I don't know. Am I doing it right? I just felt like I wanted to do that too. Get up and get on with it. Like I needed permission for it to be done.

So yesterday, the serviceman from the water conditioning company came by. At first I thought he was a little strange. I was a little nervous to be here alone with him, but he turned out to be a really nice guy. Come to find out, my sister had told him the week prior that I lost my baby. I had accidentally missed my appointment, so she offered him that reason. At first I was upset that she opened her mouth, but I realized later that it was ok.

Journal entry Jan 7th

2007-04-21T16:09:00.001-07:00

I don't even know where to start tonight. Well, actually I do because I feel like I have a ton of things to unload. I've found that I've begun to get resentful when I want to write down a thought and I can't. Usually I can only journal at night when I'm alone without any interruptions. My thoughts come so quickly that I can't keep track of them and I feel like unless I write them down, they'll vaporize.

I've been thinking that maybe I should seriously consider writing a book, afterall, I have a lot to say. Haha. But how could I if I can't get it all out? Maybe I'm too full of myself.

So today has been one month. Seems that it went by really fast. I actually thought the 7th was tomorrow, which made me feel bad; like I should have been mourning all day or something. So this afternoon, on the computer I began to think about everything and kind of accepted the notion that Charlotte probably had T18. I was online at the Kaiser website and was looking up the characteristics and my sister came in. We spoke for a bit and I told her that I think Charlotte may have had it, then I said I know it really doesn't matter anyways. I felt like I was giving into my flesh needing answers rather than allowing for God to have ALL of the knowledge. Just then, Airenne called and I had to go. I guess there was my answer. "And He shall provide an escape..." I never returned to my search.

So later tonight, I was bombarded with more mental questions. I've found that they come when I'm still. I don't like it. That's when I feel like I should write things down, but I don't then I get frustrated and angry.

I was thinking about how maybe I should, or maybe I just want to, write another email to give an update of how I'm doing. Then I think, geez, how long will this go on? Is it all about me??

That's not what I want, but I feel like I almost owe it to people because I've dragged them through everything else with me. Maybe I'll try to start up a web page, just like the mom of Abigail did. I think that was her name...

Anyway, I read another book called "Silent Cradle". It was written by two sisters one that had lost her third child, and the other helped to write. She also had questions to prompt journaling, which was great. But I couldn't help the feelings I had though. To hurry up and "fill-in" my own pages as there were many differences in our opinions on grieving. I felt like I needed to defend myself or justify my feelings to no-one, or perhaps to everyone.

The book often times referenced being angry at God. But I'm not. I'm not trying to sound self righteous or anything, in fact, I've felt horrible thinking it was ok for Charlotte to die. Was it because of my reluctance of being pregnant or having to raise another child right now? Or was I comforted in KNOWING God is sovereign & providential. Have I been using these ideals as a scapegoat of denial? I suppose even the word "scapegoat" applies---as the priests of the Old Testament allowed for one as a sacrifice, which alludes to Christ--oh,I don't know...that thought was gone before I got it all out!

But has my hope been just a defense mechanism of my heart? I think not. I had BELIEVED things were going to be different. So did a lot of other people. Are they sitting on the same fence that I am right now, questioning what they had believed? I want to clarify that the question lies in WHAT I believed, not in WHOM.

I hope I have not shaken things up for people. Maybe I have. Maybe we all needed it. Sifting.

But I've been questioning myself. Why was THIS pregnancy different? What made me shout from the mountain tops everything that was happening. Why am I so willing to "move ahead" and consider more writing? I need to ask the Holy Spirit to search me. Am I wanting attention? This just doesn't seem to fit in with the other mom's experiences.

Speaking of, the other moms, I mean, almost all of them refer to their babies as stillborn. I've said it a few times but feel guilty for doing it, like it's minimizing Charlotte or dismissing her. I feel like I had a daughter that died, not a "still born". I've even described her death as "her heart stopped beating before she was born" or, "yes, I did have a baby but she passed away". I wonder if these feelings will ever be replaced. Or if I will ever sprout angry roots towards God. I hope not.

I found myself the other day going to the bank to pay for the mortgage. For the last 3 months I've walked in the payment and spoken with the teller who always commented on my pregnant figure. I was actually excited to go in and tell her "Yes, I did have my baby. She was perfect looked like her big brother." Then I knew what the next line would be "...but she passed away." That would make me so sad. So when I went in, I took Mathias...everyone was looking at him so much they didn't even ask about Charlotte. But that was ok. Maybe I wouldn't have been as "up to it" as I thought.

There was something that was kind of funny that happened 3-4 days after she was born. (Goes to show how self centered I can be).... Brian, the boys and I were going to develop the pictures of Charlotte when we saw Bobbi. She was walking to her car and we were walking into the store when I said "hi". Well, apparently, she didn't know anything, because in her big hug hello she asked when the baby was due! You know, my first reaction was "Crap! I still look pregnant?" So I then explained everything and she apologized profusely. Still makes me chuckle.

But as for the Silent Cradle book, I think I'll keep it around. The journaling questions are good. I suppose the biggest difference between the author and myself is her anger towards God and my lack of it. My lack of anything, really.

I don't feel depressed, per se, just more relaxed. The things that used to bug me like the house being messy or whatever, have now taken a backseat. But other things have made me more fearful. For instance, I want Brian around me all the time. Way more than usual. I noticed it in the hospital. He had to go out to use the bathroom and I asked him to hurry up and come back. I was almost scared.

So now we're re-modeling Airenne's bathroom. I thought "what a perfect project" Brian will be at home with me, we'll get the ugliness in the bathroom taken care of AND have a great sense of accomplishment!" I realized that last one after reading that book too. That yes, I do feel like I need to "complete" something. I know Charlotte was not "my fault", but I do have the urge to prove that I can make something good again.

In other books that I've read I noticed that I turned way more to the sections for newborn deaths over miscarriages or stillbirths. How weird that I would even care. But she was my 'baby'. Not 'a' stillborn. I bet all moms feel like that.

This writing feels good. Takes the edge off. But it's overwhelming how suddenly a thought of Charlotte floods my mind and my heart. I've been carrying around her photo album in my purse, just in case I run into someone. At least I have those to share. Can't pass around a bubbly baby; but I do have the pictures.

It's ironic though. The pictures are somewhat ugly. I mean, it's of a dead baby. But I treasure them more then anyone else's. That's all I have now. That and the castings.

Can I make it one night with out crying?? I will try tonight. I've had a perpetual headache for a month. Tomorrow I'll try to get a grip on my fleeting thoughts. I've had a horrible memory lately. I have to literally keep a calendar. I hope that clears soon.

Journal entry Jan 02, 2007

2007-04-21T13:26:00.000-07:00

Well, my due date passed, pretty uneventful until later in the day. It crossed my mind only once in the afternoon, then my mom called and asked if I wanted to go to the cemetery. It reminded me that Charlotte was there. Not like I had really forgotten that she was there, but it stung.

Then a few hours later I was clearing out my room and the boy's room and when I opened the door to place the bag of old clothes and toys outside, there stood the Funeral Director. It took me a few seconds to realize who she was/where I knew her from, but then I lost my breath. I didn't know if I should invite her in; it was so strange to see her outside of the funeral home. I knew she lived nearby, but to see her on my porch....

Thinking now, I guess I wished that she came by to give Charlotte back to me, handing her over like we'd made a mistake, but she didn't. Instead, she handed me an envelope with clippings of Charlottes' hair, a paper template of a headstone and her death certificate. I studied that dumb piece of paper for a long time. Each neatly typed box, spelling, noted time, Doctor's signature. Cause of Death. Like there was going to be an explanation or some information I wasn't aware of. The last line said there was multiple cysts on her brain & possible Trisomy 18. Not even a note about her heart problem. I suppose this is a way for Satan to tempt me. Maybe I should've asked for testing or an autopsy. To get more "answers". To not trust God.

When I went over to my mom's she bluntly asked me if the days date was bothersome. Well, gee, not until you asked. I was somewhat surprised that Brian's mom didn't call. She probably didn't want to upset me.

So, in the mail the other day I received a book called "When a Baby Dies". What was so surprising to me was how "normal or "text book" my feelings are. I feel like I'm experiencing them somewhat at warp speed. I guess I somehow thought I was different. I was ( I thought) stronger, more able to deal with it. But I'm right in line with a typical grieving mother. I suppose there is a lot to analyze in that one. 1.) Christ needs to be my comfort and I am beautiful to Him when I have a broken heart & 2.) I need to remove my pride and realize I can not do this alone. Nor am I any different/special that I could ever do it by myself.

A scary thought is that the hard part of this process doesn't usually come until the fourth month after. It is hard enough but now it may get even worse? Another "thing" that got me in the book was the description of a baby's skin after in utero death. It was just like Charlotte's red shiny flesh on her torso where it was starting to pull. Not pink delicate skin. This too reminded me of a "natural process" it wasn't only her that it happened to. But yesterday, as I was cutting an apple for the boys, the skin peeled off in the midsection. There she was again.

The gravity of losing Charlotte hits at the strangest times. I was sitting at the desk, putting things away and realized that I have a baby that died. I've become one of "those" women. Who are they? Now it's me.

Brian told me today that he is depressed and stressed out. I don't know if it's only work or not. I hope he's sad about Charlotte. I hope he never forgets her. I went to the cemetery today with my mom. I was excited and nervous. It almost felt wrong to go with out Brian. So we stopped and got roses. I used a coupon from one of the arrangements that had been sent to us. I felt so cheap. We arrived at the cemetery and I walked to where I thought she was. My mom was not too near me when I spotted Charlotte's plot. I remembered she was next to two "Infant Hall" children. I expected to see freshly turned dirt. I almost missed it. I barely eeked out: "There she is." My mom was talking about something and I interrupted her. I don't even know what we had been talking about , I was so preoccupied with looking ahead of me that I didn't recognize that she lay just 2-3 plots to my right. It felt like the wind was in my face and it took away my ability to speak. All I could say was "there she is"...my mom stopped and asked where and I pointed to the flower can thing. Immediately I started crying and so did she. She hugged me tightly and whispered "I'm so sorry baby." She was hugging me so tight that I thought that I shouldn't move, like she needed the hug too.

So we placed our roses in the can. I noticed how the dirt was pulling/caking around the can. I saw the outline of the grave in dirt, but the rest was grown over with grass. We walked over her area, over to the northside fence. There were a lot of other babies buried there that I hadn't noticed before. Sounds lame, but it felt good to know other mom's and dad's had placed their babies there too. Then we left because it was so cold.

On the way home, I told her how Zachariah woke up yesterday morning. He was all misty eyed and he said he was crying for Jesus. When I asked him why he said it was because he missed Charlotte. That caught me off guard; big time. I told him that it was ok to cry to Jesus and that Charlotte was so lucky to be with him. That was the first time he's mentioned her. I thought maybe "it" was over with for him, but I guess not. Even this afternoon, when we were buying wipes for Mathias, Zach asked if they were for Charlotte too. Later, on the clearance rack, he asked if we could buy some food/formula for Charlotte. What do I do now?

At lunch, my mom asked what we were doing about birth control. I was knocked off kilter when she asked. So direct. But while the boys and I were shopping later that day, I had to pick up a few things and we saw her again at the store. I was worried that she would see the condoms in the basket and ditched the cart. I feel funny talking about sex with other people right now.
Do they think it's too soon? How could I? I keep thinking about what came out of me. A dead baby. The morbidity of it all. I don't want to say too much about that stuff to Brian. Don't want to freak him out. I mean part of me (physically) wants to be with Brian; but another part of me feels guilty. I know that's only a part of my grief, but it's still there.

One of the things my mom said to me was how tiny Charlotte's nose was. That all of her features were so petite and perfect. She says she thinks Charlotte would have looked like me, but with dark hair. Ooh, that burns. Finally, one that could've looked like me. Oh well. She also said she thinks that I'll have one more. I don't know if I even want to, but I can't explain how comforting it is to hear that. Karen said that before too. So warm, can't describe it.

But after re-reading this entry, I see how I can be wrong. About a lot of things I suppose.
But today I asked Brian's mom how her day was on my due date. It was fine. She actually didn't even think about it. Good for her.

[Fwd: RE: Charlotte's Page]

2007-04-21T13:20:00.001-07:00

From: Brian & Christine Curry
Sent: Saturday, April 21, 2007 9:18 AM
Subject: Charlotte's Page

Friends and Family,

I finally got around to creating a (rudimentary) Blog page for the emails that I'd sent out during my pregnancy with Charlotte. There are a few quirks to still be worked out, but I like it so far. It's my version of a virtual scrapbook!

There are links to a photo album as well as music clips. (The music link may ask you to walk thru a configuration process, but it's really simple.) The blog posts are a little out of chronological order,but I'll get around to fixing that later.

I will be transferring my journal entries onto this page as well, so feel free to stop by and read them at any time.

Thank you all again for your support.

With love,
Christine

http://www.babycharlotte-4hisglory.blogspot.com/

Journal entry Dec 21

2007-04-21T11:28:00.002-07:00

Tonight, Misty the photographer came by to drop off a shadow box for us. The back of the frame has a very nice poem on it, but what was on the flip side took my breath away. It was a casting of Charlotte's feet. I knew that it was done, but to see them in plaster was so beautiful. After the nighttime/bedtime routines were done, I just sat on the end of my bed and cried. I wanted so badly to put that frame down and crash through the glass to get those little feet out and hold them and kiss them. They looked so smooth, just like her flesh did. I just wanted to rub the bottom of her feet. Her little toe looked like mine. Small memories...

So I've been meaning to write in this journal of all of the things, big and small, that cross my mind, but writing these things down is daunting. I want to record them, for what -I don't know. But everyday there's more, and I'm already so behind.

Well, the first one or two days we came home, people started to bring us meals. I went to the kitchen to try to tidy up and noticed that our fridge was full of junk. Jelly jars with only one knife's spread left in them, bundles of ketchup and hot sauce from drive-thrus. So I decided to toss some things out to make more room for all of the chicken casseroles we'd rec'd. So when I came to the vegetable drawer, I saw the cucumbers and the tomatoes that were going rotten. They were still in the clear grocery bags, but very soft and mushy. Some were leaking, some had mold on them. All I kept thinking was that it looked like Charlotte's head. Soft and mushy. I know that's a disgusting thought; but that's all I saw. Bruised.

Another thing was when Brian and I had gone to the cemetery to choose a plot for her. We drove around and found an area that we liked, then we went back to the office to meet with the Caretaker to see what was still available. Brian went into the office ahead of me; I stayed in the car. My sister had given me a "mourning locket" in memory of Charlotte a day or so before. Actually, I think she gave it to me right before we left for the cemetery. Anyway, it's very lovely. Silver, antique. A little larger than what I'm used to. But as I sat in the car, that locket seemed to grow very heavy around my neck. Almost to the point where I felt like it was pulling my body down. It was so strange. I just looked around the office area an thought about how much it reminded me of my great grandparent's house.

I got out of the car because I was tired of waiting and I felt like I needed to see everything that I could. To try to sear it into my brain, every detail. When I got up to the office door, the screen was locked. I felt so stupid because I couldn't unlock it without disturbing Brian and the Manager. when I went inside, I saw a dingy one room office with a bare desk and four shabby upholstered chairs. The office smelled like cigarette smoke and only had a phone and fax machine.

There was a doorway that lead to what looked like a mud room or maybe a laundry room, with a kitchen just beyond that. I wanted to get up and walk thru the house, but obviously we weren't there for that. There was a big black vault that held the diagram of all of the plots on it. Some where handwritten names, some were typed. Very primitive. Nothing was computerized. This diagram was glued to a large piece of particle board.

The man behind the desk was friendly enough, but down to business. He looked like he was average height, and wore a dirty baseball cap or something like it; with an old flannel jacket.
His hair was dingy grey as was his mustache, with yellowing in certain areas. The flannel and pants he had on looked like they hadn't been washed in a very long time, with a large hole ripped in the midsection on the jacket.

A thought crossed my mind of the cemeteries seen on TV that re-use plots, scamming people out of their money. But I didn't care, I just wanted it overwith. So he took us out to the area that we liked and told us how he wasn't going to charge us full price for her plot. I can't remember why. It had something to do with the size or what ever. I didn't care. I considered it a blessing that she would get a large plot to herself.

So we went out amongst the big oak trees. There was one smaller tree in the middle of two grand oaks. That's where I wanted her. Nearest the little tree. It was perfectly shaped and I thought about how shady it would be in the hot summers here.

There were two plots available. One was next to a 2 year old girl, named Katie. And another one next to two infants. For some reason I found it comforting to have her closest to the other babies. I don't know why. But I do know that as we were choosing and talking, Jim the Caretaker kept calling the plots "graves". Oh how it made me cringe! It stung everytime he said it. I know tht that's what it is, but not for my baby, not for Charlotte. I wanted to slap him and tell him to quit saying that word. He told us that because it was for a baby, he would be digging the hole by hand, well, with a shovel instead of a back-ho. I thought that was tender. What a nice thing to say for a Grave-digger to do. After all, if he was gong to put her in a grave, that made him a grave-digger.

So later, at her burial, he was there. Still wearing the same flannel; but this time he had an assistant. A hispanic man, in his 40's. They asked if the family was going to leave before they put her in. But Brian and I said no, we'd watch them put her in. So they took her tiny casket off the table and held it under one arm like a shoe box. It was almost cute. The one thing I noticed though was the cloth they had covering the table was a horrible green with a white cross stitched on the front. Really cheap looking. It was all wrinkled like they wadded it up and shoved it in the spare tire chamber of the hearse. I know, hyper-critical. But it's the strangest things that set me off.

So when they lowered her in, the one man, the assistant, stood on the cement liner and straddled over it. My dad came over and dropped a small golden medallion on top of the casket and that was it. Brian walked over to it, looked into the hole and looked away. I stood ther not knowing what to do. Should I go to Brian, was he ok? Was I brave enough to look into the hole too? Was everyone expecting me to freak out and sob or wail?

All I know is that I didn't want them to place the cement lid over the liner. I knew that three feet of dirt would be piled on top of that; but what if she cried. No one would hear her if she cries.

During the speech that Pastor gave at the burial service, the most precious thing that he said was that there will be a day, resurrection day, when Jesus will come back with Charlotte's spirit with Him and He will stand at her grave and say "Charlotte, come forth." And she will come up to Him and say"Where's my mommy and daddy."

Whew! Just to hear him say "come forth"; how beautiful. It reminded me of what Becky said. She said that when I breathed into Charlotte and called her name, I was putting myself into her and GAVE her name to her. So while she is waiting for me, she will know me. That's why it touched me so much that Pastor said Jesus will call her up by her name.

But that initial visit to the cemetery was surreal. The smaller tree that I liked so much, the Gravedigger Jim said was a flowering photinia. We have that planed in the front yard. Brian and I had talked about removing them because they haven't done much in 2-3 years, but Jim said they are very slow growers. Now I feel like we can't take them out, not even a remote possibility.

So I noticed today that I haven't cracked my Bible open. I don't know why. Am I mad at God? No, not really. A little confused though. I re-read an email I'd sent out and started to feel dumb. Like I sounded like an idiot. Not for, well, I suppose for, believing that I heard from God. I knew at the time that I did. I don't know what I know now. Maybe that's why I haven't read my bible. I'm afraid I'll be wrong again.

Beginning of journal entries Dec 17th

2007-04-21T11:28:00.001-07:00

I don't even know what to say tonight. It's Sunday, December 17th. The family is sleeping and I've found myself sitting up alone again going through paperwork and cards. Over the past few days, I've begun to cringe when the mail comes. With Christmas only 8 days away, we've been getting both Christmas and sympathy cards. The envelopes are pretty generic, so I never know what to expect.

Brian and I went to our friends' Holiday Open House this evening. It was refreshing to get out and be among other brothers and sisters, but also hard. Especially when a Pastor and his wife asked how many children we have. I told them that we just lost a baby, but we have three other children. They seemed to know who we were because of the emails. They had pity on their faces, and by the time we left, I wondered if I shouldn't have mentioned Charlotte. I was afraid that I was going to make other people feel uncomfortable, but I couldn't deny her. She was too beautiful.

I miss her so much. Which is strange to say, because I never really got to know her. But she looked like Mathias, and probably would have been just as sweet. There are so many details that I'd like to write down so I don't forget them in the days following December 7, 2006. But for tonight, I'm exhausted. Maybe tomorrow I'll spend some time. I love you Charlotte.

Why I finally went into the hospital

2007-04-21T08:27:00.001-07:00

Original email has been modified for public viewing
***************************************************
This is a portion of a letter I sent to my friend as she had a few questions for me. I suspect the same questions are on everyones' mind, so here you go....
***************************************************************************
I went into the hospital on the leading of Brian. To make a very long story short, I have waited for years for Brian to be my leader and spiritual covering. He hasn't really been the "leader" of our relationship or things of that nature (which has been a problem for us... uh, mostly me) which has made it hard for me to be submissive. I know that I have a strong personality and Brian's lack of gumption in decision making and charging really show how impatient I can be. I like to do thinks quick। I almost always take the reins. I somewhat railroad him quite often and do things without his "approval".

Anyway, we had gotten in a pretty big argument on Wednesday and words were not held back. It was very much an attack of Satan and we almost let him win. In the end of it, I really felt that God wanted me to submit to my husband and follow him as to what he thought was best. It was hard for me because I sooo... much wanted my body to go into natural labor,but I was also ready to have someone else "take over". I have become so very weary ..all around. Spiritually, emotionally and physically. Brian was getting very scared that I would get sick and he wanted me to go in. I just wanted to be carried.

The delivery wasn't that traumatic. I had a TON of amniotic fluid that gushed out everywhere. Possibly, God allowed me to be in the hospital when that finally happened because she slid right out. LITERALLY. I weighed 200 lbs going in and came out at 180. She only weighed 4lbs 2oz. That's 16 lbs of water! It spilled over the bed and splashed up on the walls. She tumbled out of me and rolled across the bed 3 times before she stopped. No sound. The room was silent. Everyone held their breath. I begged Brian to put his mouth on her and breath into her nostrils, but he wouldn't. He felt that the Lord answered us in that moment, so I did it instead.

I wiped my face off, wiped her mouth with my fingers, and placed my mouth over her nose and mouth. I breathed into her 3-4 times, but nothing changed.And that was ok. It wasn't like I was preforming CPR, but I had to try.

She was beautiful though. Looked like Mathias. Tiny nose, curly hair. The memory I have of her is not what the pictures look like that we took. The pictures are real, but not pretty. Not what I have to keep in my heart.

Her body was formed perfectly. No clubbing, webbing or malformations. That I suppose is what God healed her of. But He still called her home. It was His perogative to do so. But it still hurts. Brian and I held and kissed her. Airenne was there the whole time and held her a lot. She was very strong. I am so proud of her.

We had a professional photographer there... well, she arrived about 3 minutes after delivery. She took pictures of everything including me breathing into Charlotte and took a casting of her tiny little feet. We should get that stuff back soon I hope. I want to show the pix at her memorial. We plan to have a private burial maybe this coming week with a celebration a day or two after that. We're working out the details and location. Brian and I really want to celebrate Charlotte in honor of Jesus then.

Whew! What a time, huh? The crying comes in waves. But I am ok so far. I thank you for your prayers. I can't make sense of much right now, other than I have been so blessed by this whole thing.

I will write more later. And thanks by the way for calling. And your last note. I didn't want to call your friend who had the baby that had T18 because I truly believe that God had healed Charlotte... Which by the way, He did.

He also sealed the deal to any future questions I might have by not allowing for testing of her for T18 or anything else. I'd asked the doctor and nurses if they were going to send out samples of her blood to be tested and they said there wasn't enough blood left in her cord and her placenta already had my blood mixed through it too much. They said if I really wanted it, they could try to draw some of her blood from her, but I don't want them poking her for anything.

It's kind of like how we (as humans) have learned how to figure out what a rainbow is. An easy explanation we can wrap our limited minds around. Just a bunch of prizms that catch light. But God tells us that a rainbow is a promise. And I choose to believe Him. The view is better from up there.

I love you and I'll keep you posted,
Christine

Email response: Charlotte's Memorial

2007-04-19T22:12:00.000-07:00

I attended the *C* family's celebration of life for little Charlotte. The photos taken at her birth was some of the most touching photos I have ever seen. This child was someone real and made such an impact on so many. The service was very sweet and helped to heal the anger some of us are feeling about her death. Some of us expected a full miracle ending with a live child. Confused why God would stop at a healing of her body and not giving her life.

It was proposed to me that maybe Charlotte was given the choice of staying here or being with Christ. Nice to think that this outcome may have been hers, choosing to be with her family in heaven when the time was right. Quite a few people had wonderful comments about Christine and B. Their strength and faith is such an example to me. I want to be like Christine when I spiritually grow up.

I know that they have been so blessed by everyone's prayers and efforts to assist. Please keep in mind that their needs are far from over.

Love and Hugs,
Karen

Message about Baby Charlotte and Christine

2007-04-19T22:11:00.000-07:00

I know most of you have been notified about Christine having Baby Charlotte on Dec. 7th. She was beautiful, I have been told, and perfectly formed--a miracle from God.

Sadly, she wasn't appointed more time on Earth for us to hold and love her. She is with our Lord in heaven. I look forward to the day when we will get to meet her. Please continue to pray for Christine and and their entire family. My faith has forever been changed by the faithfulness demonstrated throughout the entire story of Charlotte's life. I will never be the same. We serve an amazing God!

I pray that you will all be held in his comfort and peace and that
your relationship with Him will grow stronger each day।

Celeste

More Results ... (Aug 2nd)

2007-04-19T22:10:00.000-07:00

This is another email I sent out which explains more. It's a little

long...Sorry
*****************************************************************
"You have hedged me from behind and before, and laid your hand upon
me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, I cannot attain it."
Ps 139:5-6

Today has been rough. I am sorry to you whom I have not called
privately, but after a couple of explanations I could not bear it
any longer. The sobs on the other end of the phone hurt me like the
sting of my own tears, so for now I can only handle an email.

Brian and I went in for the ultrasound today and received very
disturbing news. It seems as though the baby is showing to have some
problems with her heart. I will be explaining everything here as I
recollect, but please bear in mind that we are stunned and I could
only absorb so much. I am definitely a "glass half full" kinda girl
so I am keeping hope that it will all be worked out. This is not to
say that I am only hearing what I want to, but I have to trust that
the Lord knows what he is doing even if I don't have a clue.

"For you formed my inward parts, you covered me in my mother's womb.
I will praise you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made, Marvelous
are your works and that my soul knows very well. My frame was not
hidden from you, when I was made in secret, and skillfully wrought
in the lowest parts of the earth. Your eyes saw my substance yet
being unformed." Ps. 139 13-16

First of all, there is an issue with her brain. There are areas that
are supposed to be fluid filled, but it appears that there are some
cysts (Choroid Plexus Cysts-CPCs) in there that are pushing the
fluid out. These cysts are not the kind that grow and cause pressure
on her brain, in fact, there is a possibility that they can 'clear-
up' on their own. In sever cases the child will have major
deformities with their hands/arms/legs and feet, looking like they
are all twisted up. Our little girl does NOT have that. The Dr. was
pleased to see that her fingers and toes were as they should be.
There is still cause for concern however, because she has a
large 'hole' in her heart (Tetraology of Fallot-TOF). If these two
issues were independent of each other, it would be a little easier
(as her mom) to deal with. But in this case, because there is the
heart issue, along with the brain issue, the Doctors are concerned
that there could be a chromosomal defect, such as Down's Syndrome or
worse. The 'or worse' is what we do not know.

One way that we could find out if it chromosomal is to have an
amniocentesis. There are a couple of reasons why we are opting NOT
to do this; being: 1.) It's too invasive 2.) It would not change our
love for our baby.

I have a blood disorder, if you will, being Rh-. This means I do not
have a certain protein sheathing my blood cells ( this is not new
information for me, as I've had to take extra precautions during
each pregnancy). But if my blood and the baby's blood crosses, it
could be devastating. An amnio increases that likelihood of it
crossing because a needle would be inserted into my bellybutton and
pierce thru the amniotic sac to collect fluid for testing . Although
the Dr. says it isn't a big concern, I do not want to take that
chance. Also, doing an amnio in general carries a chance of inducing
miscarriage or preterm labor (depending on gestational age) which is
also devastating. But more than anything I believe that she is being
skillfully wrought and that I need to trust that Jesus' hands are
upon her. Knowledge for the sake of knowledge isn't worth the risk
for me. Besides, all it will show is if there is a chromosomal
defect, not the degree of such an issue, so we still would not know
if/ how severe any mental retardation would be. Some of the
possibilities of a chromosomal defect after Down's would be Trisomy
18 or something of that sort. But things that are indicative of
Trisomy 18 include a cleft lip/pallet and more, which I can not
recall. The Dr. has said we do not have a cleft, nor the
abnormalities of the twisted hands etc.

So as to the "glass half full" part of me, I am clinging to the
cysts possibly clearing up and the heart not being as bad as they
think. The genetic counselor says it sometimes happens that things
clear up on their own and babies are born that were once thought to
have major issues in-utero, with no signs of problems after birth.
We are not in denial over this news, but we covet the prayers of
those who are asking for mercy and a healthy baby. God is the God of
Miracles, and he hears YOU!

With the remaining time in my pregnancy the Dr. thinks things should
go as "normal". The team I will be followed by includes my regular
Ob/Gyn, a Perinatalogist (high risk specialist) and a Pediatric
Cardiologist. I have an appointment on Wednesday to see the
Cardiologist who will give the baby an echocardiogram (more fancy
ultrasound) to see the severity of the heart problem. Then, I will
be tracked by the others in Sacramento with more ultrasounds and
things like that. They did tell me that I will deliver in Sacramento
because that is where the best care can be given to us, and more
than likely I will have a C-section because the stress may be too
much on her heart. It's funny (well, not really) that my biggest
fear is to have a C-section and the Lord is asking me to trust him
in this as well. What a test.

Brian in all of this is not doing so great. I know that it is not my
fault, but I kept telling him that I am sorry. After all, she is in
my body, and I can not protect her. He just sat in the chair tonight
holding Mathias and smelling the blankie of Zack. Sounds gross, but
it is a sweetness you can relate to if you have a kid with a
blankie.

Airenne too is shaken. She cried a lot and prayed for mom. That was
nice. Zachariah is wondering why I'm crying, as I don't usually do

it in front of him and Mathias is being the sweetie pie he always is

and busies himself with literally kissing the tears off my face. (I
think he likes the saltiness).
I am in a tail spin as crying has dried me up.

I've looked for some info on the web as to these conditions and was
actually encouraged. But mostly, I am going to wait on Him. Please
pray for our family, for all of us, even baby Charlotte Nicole.
Daddy picked that one.

Love to you all,
Christine

It's a GIRL (July 31st)

2007-04-19T04:46:00.000-07:00

Hello all of my MOPS friends! I had my first "real" ultrasound this morning and was very pleased with the results. The tech says we're expecting a baby GIRL!! As most of you know, there is 13 years between this baby and my daughter (with 2 boys in between) so needless to say, we're pretty excited.

I know that sometimes things are too soon to tell and I may have to
schedule another exam in a couple of weeks because everything was
small, but there weren't any "boy" parts yet, and the tech said she
believes she saw 'girl parts'. So I'll hold to that for a while:)

Just wanted to share he good news with all of my friends.
Hope you all have a great week,
Christine

Call from Genetics (Aug 1st)

2007-04-19T04:43:00.000-07:00

This is a portion of an email I sent to our family and friends this afternoon. I don't have it in me at the end of today to call/email everyone individually, so I am posting this to my friends in MOPS who can understand a mother's heart... *******************************************************************

SO we went from no news yesterday to some urgent prayers needed today.

As I sat this morning to read the "well wishes" and replies from my
email yesterday, I got a call from the genetics dept at Kaiser. The
conversation started off ok until the woman asked if my Dr has
shared the results from the ultrasound with me. I told her no and
after what she said, well, let's just say I was glad to be already
sitting.

She told me that I need to come into Sacramento tomorrow for a Level
2 ultrasound because there were some things on the first one that
weren't showing as they should. The first is the baby's heart. They
could not make out the 4 chambers and see the flow as they should.
The baby's brain also isn't the size it should be and the fluid
levels are not accurate either. Lastly, there seems to be a lot of
fibroids (cysts) in the placenta. Whew! Between drying my eyes and
trying to accurately pass on the information I was given, I feel
exhausted today.

The genetic tech says we will meet with her first to go over family
medical history and that we will have the results of tomorrows test
before we leave. They will have a specialist there that will review
everything and that can answer any questions we have.

Brian will be taking the day off to go with me (naturally) but he
called on his way home from work today and told me that his heart
hurts. Mine too. So please, pray for God's mercy on our family, a
clear reading of the test and peace for us. There is a chance that
the baby is so small that the initial readings may be skewed. I hope
that is the case. But I will let you know after we get home as to
what is happening.

Love to all,
Christine

Cardiologist Update (Aug 9th)

2007-04-19T02:16:00.001-07:00

We had our first meeting with the Cardiologist on Wednesday. All things considered, the information she gave us was pretty much expected. Little Charlotte does indeed have a hole in her heart, which in relation to the size of her heart is pretty large.

The doctor informed me that it is most likely repairable with after birth surgery, which will be done at UCSF. She is confident in the surgical team there and will also work closely with our pediatrician, whom she already knows well.

Upon our introductions, she asked me what I already knew about this
condition. I told her everything I have learned over the past week
(which of course via the internet is a lot!) and that the Genetics
Counselor also made mention of the cysts the baby has in her brain.
I was taken aback when she said that the Counselor told her that she
was concerned about Trisomy 18. I knew that was something to be
considered, but to hear that she was actually concerned about it
scared me. I have been in contact with the Counselor and she told me
that according to the ultrasound the baby doesn't have the other
traditional "markers" or "soft markers" for this chromosomal defect.
These things typically include severe malformations of the
hands/feet, head, face and inner organs not to mention sever mental
retardation. The most devastating facet of this disorder is that the
life expectancy for these babies is 12-18 months. This is what the
first doctor had meant when she said that there was another
disorder 'more significant' than Down's Syndrome.

Things that we are able to "check off" the long list of Trisomy 18
conditions (also called Edward's Syndrome) are: no spina bifida, all
vertebrae are aligned and accounted for, no cleft pallet/lip, no
kidney problems (at least in utero) and her hand and leg movements
are good. I guess that a typical marker is decreased fetal movement
and a drawn up nature of arms and legs, but Charlotte seems to be as
feisty as her siblings! According to ultrasound, her head is also
shaped normally and the cysts are not applying pressure or hindering
her growth or development. At my next Level II ultrasound the
doctor's will be checking to see if the cysts are shrinking, or if
it is actually one giant cyst that is spanning across both sides of
her brain instead of 2 large ones like they initially thought. The
Counselor says that no new symptoms will show up (if she doesn`t
have spina bifida she won`t "get it"), but there may be more visible
signs as the baby grows.

The final words that the Doctor said to me at the conclusion of our
appointment however, have resonated within me. She had to inform me
that if, in fact, the baby does have Trisomy 18, there "isn't a
surgeon in the country that would perform surgery, because the
other problems with these kinds of babies outweighs the benefits of
the surgery". So basically, they would send us home with our sick
baby and only manage her symptoms, but not work towards a recovery.

As I'm sure you can imagine, I have been a little weepy since then.
I am trying to keep my chin up and trust in the Lord, but this is
really stretching me. James 4:8 promises that if I draw near to the
Lord, He will draw near to me. I have felt His presence throughout
all of this, but I do sometimes feel so alone.

Testing for Trisomy 18 won't be until after Charlotte is born, taken
from her blood, and the results can take up to 2 weeks to get back.
The Cardiologist also expects that the baby will be in the hospital
longer than average, at maybe 2 weeks (or more depending on her
health) to be on medication to help her heart valve to stay open.
This presents a tangible challenge as that we will have to
coordinate babysitters for the boys and arrange for hotel stays and
things like that in both Sacramento, where she will be delivered and
San Francisco, where she will have her surgery. It seems surreal,
but for those of you who know me well, I do worry about these things
as I want to plan and be prepared. That seems to be the crux of this
situation, for me at least. I am so intimately involved in this, but
so completely out of any kind of control. All I can do is truly wait
on the Lord to move.

"...I will trust in the mercy of God forever and ever, I will praise
You forever because You have done it. And in the presence of Your
saints I will wait on your name, for it is good." Psalms 52:8-9

I was talking to a friend a couple of days ago and realized what a
privilege this is for me to be in this situation. It is the hardest
thing I have ever had to deal with by far, but to be in a position
to see the glory of God coming is exciting. Of course I would rather
not have to be hurting, I am human and this is my baby girl,
but "God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and LOVE
and a sound mind. II Tim 1:7" I'm sure there are some of you reading
that must think I have gone crazy, but I haven't. I am doing the
only thing I can do right now and that is cling to God's promises.

Every day this baby grows inside me and is healthy where she is.
In that, I still ask that you, our friends and family continue to
pray, as that is the only thing that can be done at this point. I
have a while left in this pregnancy and I want to rejoice in it. I
am praying not only for healing, but for a complete miracle. It is
not too small for God to do and He wants us to believe in His might
and power, however he chooses to show it.

Thank you for your calls and emails, I have read ALL of them and I
can not tell you how they touch me. Brian is dealing with all of
this by staying totally busy with work. He is being sensitive and
tender to me and I am very thankful for that. I hope that no one is
taking it personally that we haven't returned phone calls too much.
We are just taking it very slowly. It's emotionally draining to
explain things again and again. Airenne is concerned but looking
forward to school starting as it will help her take her mind off of
it. Zach and Ty put their chubby little hands on my belly and pray
to "take away baby Char-wit's ow-ies." It's really cute.

So anyway, I apologize f these emails are long, but it is
therapeutic for me to write it out. I sincerely thank you for all of
the love given and for the offers of help.

I will keep things updated as I will see the Doc again in 3 weeks.

Ever Hopeful,
Christine

Second L2 Ultrasound...(Aug 29th)

2007-04-19T02:15:00.003-07:00

Well, Brian and I just got home from our second ultrasound appointment with more unexpected results.

We had a new doctor come in and he was personable but very frank.
Like our last appointment, the Doctors were able to see Charlotte's
heart problem as well as the cysts. But the cysts are looking like
they are "breaking up" and "taking care of themselves". This is
good news, but what was to come is a little breath taking.

Katie, our Genetics Counselor mentioned last time that
nothing "new" would crop up on this ultra sound, but there may be
other things that did not show earlier due to the baby's size that
they may be able to detect now. That was the case this afternoon.

First I have to say thank you to whom ever must have been praying
for us at that moment (about 2 o'clock or so), because I certainly
felt the "peace that surpasses all understanding". I was a nervous
wreck this morning and found myself lagging in getting ready for my
appointment. The ride there was rough as I felt butterflies the
whole way. The technician even told me to ease my breathing a couple
of times during the test!

It was remarkable because as I sat listening to the Doctor after the test, I recognized that I was not breaking down. It was surreal! I was able to take in the information
and deal with it, but not shatter. In an instant I felt myself come
to my senses, almost like falling and realizing that I would hit the
ground. And in that moment I clearly told Jesus that I was not
letting go of Him and that He must carry me. And I soared up again,
mounted on the wings of eagles.

So the Doctor proceeded to tell us several things. First, he says
that her hands were clenched the whole time which is a typical
marker for T18 (but according to the first doctor, they had been
opened before). The other things are: a small stomach, very deep set
chin/jaw, and her umbilical cord has one artery with a vein instead
of two arteries with a vein. Now if these things were isolated they
probably would not be a big deal but as the doctor explained these
things are seemingly building on top of each other, indicating once
again, Trisomy 18 or now, possibly Trisomy 13. These conditions are
very similar, both with a fatal outcome. Most likely ending within
weeks of birth, if not in utero.

I had a lot of questions about delivery and things like that and I'm
sure the doctor must have thought I was either in denial or not
hearing everything he was saying. When I told the doctor that our
odds are 50/50 he had a perplexed look on his face (I wish I had a
camera). I told him that I understood that, statistically, the odds
were much greater, but in real life, she either has it or she
doesn't. He really seems to think I should elect to have an amnio,
as it would "give me somewhat more 'control' over what to do next", but
Brian and I still say no. We've reflected on the fact that the first
people on the face of the earth wanted to 'know more' as God knows,
and God gave them the liberty to eat of the tree of "knowledge", but
look at where it got them and what blessings they may have missed
out on because of it. I believe the greater the challenge, the
greater the glory!!

He told us that there is still a significant possibility that she my
pass away before birth and/or that if she were in distress at any
time she would have to be delivered by emergency c-section; and to
be aware that there may be severe consequences if that happened
(cutting of my bladder or intestines, greater chance of infection or
even having to have a complete hysterectomy.) I have never had a
miscarriage or anything like that, so I asked what I should expect.
He said that in either case (in utero or after birth) death would
be sudden. The baby's brain would simply stop working. He warned
Brian and I that anything is possible at this point. If she does
have T18/T13 there is a possibility that the placenta could
deteriorate anytime between now and delivery, so be watchful of no
movement or bleeding.

I have not been placed on bed rest or anything like that. They plan
to check on me again via ultrasound in about 2 months. I'm almost
wondering what's the point? We know what they know, and unless there
is stillness in my belly, I won't really get any more definite
answers. God knows what He is doing, He has plans to give us a hope
and a future.

I don't know, maybe I'll change my mind later, but that's how I see
it today. And for today, I think little Charlotte deserves some
chocolate cake.

Thank you for all of your prayers. They mean everything!

Christine

MoM to mOm

2007-04-19T02:15:00.001-07:00

Ladies,

First if all I want to thank you for all of your continued prayers and
support during this difficult time for me and my family. The
intersession on my behalf has been phenomenal, I truly mean this. I do
have another request however...

While trying to learn more about my daughter's possible disorder, I
came across a website (more like a chat, message board) where parents
with babies with cysts on their brains come together. I have been
careful not to trust too heavily on the words of man for comfort, but
to turn to our Heavenly Father, the Creator and Sustainer of all things
to lead me in this.There was such good news on this site though that I
was encouraged!

Anyway, long story short, there is a woman on the site whom I have much
in common with. (Her name is also Christine, 4th pregnancy, Doc appt
last week said they found 3 more markers, same due date, etc) But there
are also some differences. She and her husband elected to have an
amnio and it came back positive for T18. She is now considering what
the doc's are calling a "therapeutic termination" to be performed next
week. Oh how my heart aches!

So I am asking you ladies for MORE prayer for me as I try to be a
strong witness for Christ in speaking with her some more. I don't know
her religious affiliation, but I feel like God is using my situation,
yet again, to take a stand for him.

Sometimes I wonder who He has created in me, as I feel so
little in comparison to the things He asks me to do.

So please pray that I will have the right words and the strength to
pray for this other family and that ANY decision made will glorify Him.

Thanks,
Christine Curry

More bummer news w/Letter to Medical Team (Sep. 27th)

2007-04-19T02:13:00.001-07:00

I wish that I could say that today was great, but it wasn't. I wish I could say that I still feel great, but I don't. I'm really struggling tonite as I write this email.

I returned to the cardiologist this morning not really hopeful that
things were going to be dramatically different, but hoping that I
could make a dent on the heart of my doctor. So I set out to witness
to her, and feeling bold I spoke openly about Christ which seemed to
actually comfort me. She did the ultrasound for about an hour and a
half and then told me some things I wasn't prepared to
hear....again!

It seems that Charlotte's hole in her heart has become more
complicated by the fact that her valves are also not right.
Corrective surgery for the hole seemed simple, but now there is a
more challenging problem of having to re-direct the valves too. It's
much more delicate than just closing up the hole, it's getting the
valves lined up right and pieced together so there is adequate flow,
keeping in mind not to constrict them or leave them too loosely
open. Kind of a tricky operation. She said Charlotte could not
survive with out the surgery and they try to have it done at about 6-
9 months old, so the baby would be bigger and more healthy.Until
then, medicine would help to sustain her, but she wasn't clear if
she would be allowed to go home from then.

The twist is that because of this "new" finding within her heart,
the cardiologist says the prognosis is 'lining up more with the last
Doctors' suspicions'. Meaning they seem to think she really has T18.
The other thing that shocked me was the conversation we had about
the baby's small chin. The perinatologist had mentioned it the last
visit, but I really didn't think it was anything other than a
facial anomoly that may be kinda cute...big deal, she'll have a
small chin.

But the big deal is that if her chin is so severely pushed back that
it would interfere with her ability to breathe or swallow. It may
require corrective surgery to draw it out more or they may have to
insert a Tracheotomy in her throat so she can breathe and a feeding
tube directly into her stomach, so she can eat. These are not
definite things that are sure to happen, but they are showing up on
the ultrasound. Then again, nothing is sure...right?

You may be wondering "but didn't she give them a letter saying not
to discuss these things?" and yes, I did. But it casually came up
as she thought I already knew about that part of the small chin
problem. Needless to say, my chin was on the floor.

She finished telling me that we should expect to have what they call
a "blue baby" (most notably around her lips and such) and that she
will actually have blue tinting until her heart has been corrected.
This also means that until that time, it will affect her breathing
and she will most likely sound like she's drowning because her lungs
may get wet. Can you believe it? I can't seem to wrap my head around
this one. Especially because if she has T18, they won't do the
surgery anyway. The doctor told me that Brian and I need to discuss
how much intervention we want them to perform when she is born. I
don't even know where to go with that.

I feel like I'm about to fall apart. I don't even know how I feel. I
do not doubt that God can change things in an instant, but I'm
starting to wonder if He will. Just 2 days ago I was on top of the
world, really believing that God plans to heal her completely, now I
don't know what I believe. I KNOW that His will is perfect and
whatever He wants is for my good and His glory, but I feel like I'm
waffling.

A friend of ours has put things into words wonderfully in that I am
in a 'spiritual dog fight'. Right now I feel like I'm getting chewed
up pretty bad. It's almost debilitating. So please in your prayers
ask for mercy for me. And for Brian. This has really done a number
on him. He told me that he is not feeling close to God at all.
Things with his work are getting bad again and I just know that
Satan is using it as a distraction from Brian turning to God. He has
battled depression before and now he's worried that he won't be able
to bear things much longer. I need him to get strong, as I can't do
this alone. He always shuts himself off from things like this, not
letting others in, so please, please, keep him in prayer that he
will grow close to Jesus again and that we will be able to shoulder
this together.

I'm sure that in a few days I will see more clearly, and I am still
seeking comfort from Jesus as I know He is my Fountain.

I thank all of you who have carried me in prayer thus far. Please
keep it up!

Thank you,
Christine

*********This is the letter I gave to the Cardiologist today*******
Sept. 26, 2006

As a patient in what has been considered a high-risk pregnancy, I
wanted to request that any or all future findings that have not been
disclosed as of yet, remain in my medical records, but are not to be
discussed with me, unless there has been improvement from an initial
diagnosis.

My husband and I have been given adequate information as to the
findings of some abnormalities via ultrasound on our unborn
daughter, which have been devastating, to say the least. Her father
and I believe that the healing work that is to be done will be, by
the hands of our Savior, Jesus Christ who is tenderly knitting our
baby together in my womb. I was recently told by an associate of the
medical team who provides care for our family that no amount of hope
can change things from what has been found in the specialized tests
performed. But our family and extended network of people in prayer
for us couldn't be more aware that "rejoicing in hope, patient in
tribulation , and continuing steadfastly in prayer" can change
things, if even only perspective of the afflicted.

I would prefer not to discuss any additional findings that would be
disruptive to a harmonious expectancy of a healthy pregnancy and
delivery, however I do recognize the need for medical professionals
to be prepared in the event of an unfortunate situation. I will
allow the skilled professionals of Kaiser Permanente including
Doctors, Nurses and Specialists to treat the remainder of my
pregnancy in the capacities necessary to carry to term and deliver
accordingly, I just ask that I am allowed to have as much joy and
worry-free experiences this wonderful time in my life may bring. I
would like to have a copy of this letter included in my file and
reserve the right to ask questions at any point in time.

Sincerely,

Christine Curry

Washing the windows...

2007-04-19T02:12:00.001-07:00

I have to say that the out-pouring of prayers and support is very touching and most sincerely appreciated. Again I have felt myself being carried to the high place because of the intercession of others.

I feel much better today, and thankfully this last "episode" only
lasted a day or so of not feeling so great, I'm almost up to where I
was a few days ago, with much excitement and anticipation over what
will happen next. I am truly in a privileged position to see God's
hand working literally in me and through me, but I can help but feel
itty-bitty in the whole scheme of things.

I'm compelled to write another lengthy note describing my journey,
but I fist have to mention that I spoke with the Genetics Counselor
today and she said that they want to see me again for what is now
a "routine" ultrasound. I mentioned to her that I have a letter for
my file in Sacramento about not wanting to know more discouraging
things. At the end of that she said then there may not be need for
me to come in again until much closer to my due date. I was really
relieved as I didn't want to go again and wonder what was being
seen, even though I said I didn't want to know. I'm a big kid that
way... can't keep my nose out of things.

Anyway, she suggested that I email her the letter today so she can
give it to my Doctor (maybe to add weight to my plea for no more
information?) I was so pleased when she replied back to my email
wondering if I wanted her to put it online, for all providers to
see, as the Sacramento Kaiser has gone techn-o with no more paper
charts. I couldn't have replied faster…YES!! I want everyone to see
in whom I trust! This has encouraged me so much today, I feel
butterflies.

But onto another key point I feel I must tell you. Very few people
have heard me tell this story, but believe me, I knew from day one I
was in for something...What I am going to explain is mostly for
those who are reading that may not see my heart for what it has
become. There are those that knew me "before" and may think that I'm
in denial or not dealing with things realistically, but rest
assured, I have never been more wide-eyed! And even in the midst of
my despair, I have not, and will not blame God or get angry with
Him for this situation. I know in my heart of hearts that whatever
happens, His will is better than what I could ever want and it will
ultimately bring Him glory. Even if I don't understand it.

Here we go…The month before I found out I was pregnant, I thought I
was. I went so far as to purchase a pregnancy test, but on the way
home from the store, I realized I wasn't pregnant at all. I was so
relieved! Dodged that bullet, so to speak. I wasn't ready for
another baby, Mathias wasn't even 2 and how could we provide for
another person... we were just getting on our feet. We have big
plans... Yeah right!

So about 2 weeks later, as I was literally on my knees (washing the
living room windows) I was humming the song "I Surrender All" and
God asked me why I boast in how much I trust Him, but not with
everything. Was I surprised! What do you mean? Of course I do. "Then
why are you so relieved to not be carrying My child? I've told you
that they are a blessing, but you see them as a burden. I told you
that I would supply your needs, but you won't trust Me to do it."
Boy was I convicted. This whole "conversation" took a while for me
to absorb, but I (since being on my knees already) raised my hands
and said I was sorry. I started singing even louder and told God, "I
surrender! USE ME! In what ever way, USE ME. I am so sorry for my
sin of mistrust, if you want me to have another child, I'll do it.
Whatever you want from me, I'll do it." Two weeks later, I found out
I was pregnant. Okay, Lord. Very funny.

In the "hum-drum" of being a stay at home mom, I've realized that I
need to be "here" in this phase of my life. If not, I would be
distracted by work or other pressures of life, but instead I've
come to know so many fundamental truths while washing windows and
dishes. Who woulda thought.

So now this stuff crops up and what am I supposed to do? Trust in
Him, that's what. When Brian and I left the doctor after the very
first ultrasound, all over me I felt "TRUST ME, TRUST ME". I didn't
get it until today why. As I was washing dishes I thought Wow! If I
would have gone ahead with the amnio, I would still have kept the
baby but really had no "hope". I would know the results and my
prayers would have possibly not been as fervent as they are now.
Sure I would have still prayed for mercy and comfort, but I would
not be in EXPECTATION of God doing amazing things. I would have
settled for what the doctors have said. Clearly this points to
Romans 8:24-25..."but hope that is seen is not hope; for why does
one hope for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we
eagerly wait for it with perseverance." What a promise. That's why
it just didn't feel right to do the test. Thank you Lord, for
keeping me close enough to hear your whisper.

For those who my think that I am bi-polar, having grandiose
thoughts from one extreme to another... I'm not. I just have decided
that I am not going to let the king of liars steal my joy any
longer. Sure, I am still scared in my flesh, as I do not know what
the will of God is, but I do know that we are supposed to live in
expectation of His glory and always by prayer and supplication with
thanksgiving and without doubt, let Him know our desires and He will
move mountains!

Thank you for letting me share my thoughts. Sometimes I think I
should get a paper journal to keep them privately, but so many of
you respond back to me and it really is comforting. I know I'm not
alone.

Christine

Hannah's Prayer...

2007-04-19T02:11:00.001-07:00

I wanted to let everyone know that as of today, no news is good
news.

My last doctor's appointment went well, I am now being seen every
other week. My "specialist" says she's not comfortable in seeing me
for ultrasound check-ups unless she can tell me everything she sees,
and my regular OB/GYN says he's not comfortable in seeing me because
I am high risk. Hummm...I didn't know if I should have been offended
or not, but I look at it as a small victory in that I am able to not
have to go to Sacramento yet and have actually been able to have
some peace about this whole thing. (And really, if they want to know
what uncomfortable is, I can tell them! It's trading in my lap for
swollen ankles and toes! Better yet, it's trying to keep my pants
from sliding off may backside when I walk because my
belly is so round that there is no place for the waist-band to
sit... as I hold a 2 year old in one arm and the hand of a feisty 3 year old in the other...Now that's uncomfortable!

But the last visit went well. The doc says I am measuring
accurately, which is a good sign for baby growth. I have a regular
ultrasound scheduled for the 15th and I'm sure after that they will
want me to start the trek to Sacramento weekly (for "observation").

There has been talk of inducing labor to gain more 'control' over
the situation, but I am asking for prayers that it won't be
necessary. I pray that God will allow my body to spontaneously (but
in time to get to the hospital, as it's an hour away)go into labor
and to deliver a completely healthy baby. I ask that He will prepare
my body for a smooth delivery where the Doctors will not have to
intervene, but will be spectators to an awesome display of His
glory. It's only 8 weeks to go (or less) as I'm sure they won't allow
me to go over my due date.

One night a couple of weeks ago I woke up to find myself whimpering,
as if I were having a nightmare. I recall not knowing what the dream
detailed, but I remember being sad in knowing that it was bad and about
Charlotte. I felt like the Lord was telling me to not rack my brain
in trying to remember what the dream was about and to get up and
take my Bible into the other room, as He had something to talk to me
about.

Well, I laid there for about 45 minutes or so and finally pulled
myself out of bed (it was somewhere around 3 am). I took up my Bible
and went into the living room. As I sat on the couch, I
thought "well, You might have something to say to me, but I also
have something to say to You".... and so I began to pray for
Charlotte like never before. Of course I have prayed for her before,
but really, this time was different.

I asked for healing over her entire body. Her hands, her feet, her
organs and her heart. This was especially hard for me because I know
what the Doctors think they see. I was asking for God to heal what
medically looks like a certainty. And I was earnestly looking for
Him to move. I realized that I have been telling people all about
God and how He is in this situation, but I wasn't telling Him from
my heart that I believed it. I know He is big enough to do this, and
He is still working through miracles. But was this one for me? Is it
real enough for me?

So I continued to pray and weep. And weep some more. I pleaded with
Him to allow my baby to grow up to be a strong witness for Him, to
be a person that would help others to see Him. I promised that I
would bring her up in a way that would be glorifying to Him. Until
that night, I held back in saying that because I know, as a parent
already, I have "consistency issues". I was entering into a covenant
with Him that if He were to allow this thing to happen, that I would
keep up my end too. That scared me. I am now a part of this, not
just a vessel.

So I asked for Him to speak to me through His word and to cause me
to understand it. I specifically asked Him to bind it on my head,
plant it in my heart and write it on my arm. I began to pray in a
way that excited me, but also left me feeling like I needed to take
off my sandals, so to speak. Then, as in my usual manner, after
praying it in the name of Jesus, I (literally) flopped open my Bible
and began to read. I usually do this in trusting that God will
direct my eyes to where they should be. But I knew that I need Him
to make it clear for me, what ever it was that he was about to
tell/show me.

So what I turned to knocked my socks off. It was 1 Samuel 1:1. Now
as I said, I flopped open my Bible, and I was not familiar with the
story. But it read that there was a women that was barren and
disparately wanted a child. She went to the temple to pray and
poured out her soul to the Lord and asked that if He were to grant
her a (male) child that she would in turn give him back to minister
before the Lord. Now I really encourage you to read the story for
yourself, as my para-phrasing does not do it justice. But it goes on
to say that the prophet Eli saw this women and all that she was
praying for and he told her that her prayers were heard and have
been answered. That she was to go in peace and be sad no longer.

I felt as if Jesus himself was sitting on the other end of my couch
with me! He heard what I prayed for and He was there to comfort me.
I began to sob some more and literally laugh out loud. So much so
that it kinda freaked me out. I thought for sure I would wake up
Brian or the kids, but it was such a beautiful feeling! I was
tickled! I had just prayed what Hanna, Samuel's mother had prayed,
with out even knowing it!

I have what I believe, experienced the wonderment of God speaking to
my heart, and confirming it through scripture, that He not only has
heard my prayers, but that He has done it. I now wait for Him to
reveal His power in this situation.

So thank you again for your prayers, I can't tell you enough how
much they mean to me... and to Him.

Will let y'all know how the next appointment goes.
Christine

Guarded Jubilation...ultasound today (Nov 11th)

2007-04-19T02:08:00.001-07:00

"This will be written for the generation to come, that a people yet to be created may praise the Lord. For He looked down from the height of His sanctuary; from heaven the Lord viewed the earth, to hear the groaning of the prisoner, to release those appointed to death, to declare the name of the Lord in Zion, and His praise in Jerusalem…" Psalm 102:18-20

As I've come to do during this trial that has been set before me, I
have looked to God's word for comfort and confirmation. He has been
faithful to make known to me the things that have caused me to fear
and doubt and strengthened me beyond my own measure and
understanding.

A couple of Sunday's ago, our Pastor had preached a sermon that
again spoke to my heart. In the reading of John 4:46 (the nobleman's
son being healed) what jumped out at me was that fact that the
word/promise of Jesus is just as good as He, Himself being there in
the flesh, working out His mercies. That the word I was given by God
is just as effective and potent as Jesus' hands literally being in
my womb, working out Charlotte's problems. I had started to lose
sight of this fact over the past few days and had been mulling this
thought over when I was hit by another flaming arrow.

This past Sunday morning Brian and I visited our friend's church,
and during the greeting portion of the service I was approached by
the aunt of my friend. She, knowing the situation, came and asked me
how I was doing and in her hug, whispered that God told her to let
me know that He has heard my prayers. Of course I was touched and
cried, but after leaving the service I couldn't help but feel a
tremendous pressure come over me. I felt that she confirmed to me
(yet again) what God had already told me… that He has heard me. But
then I began to wonder… 'will He answer in the way that I hope for?
What does it mean that He has heard me?'

I began to think about all the times that I have heard my own
children ask for something, and yet I don't always give them what
they ask for (or what they deserve). So for 3 days I cried and
prayed that God would again open his Word to me about what I should
expect or send someone to me to tell me what He has done.

If you recall, when I *met with Jesus* a few weeks back and prayed
like Hanna, I KNEW that He had heard me, and time and again He has
quickly answered my prayers for more from Him. Many people have
told me that He has heard me, confirming what I knew, but what
really does that mean? I was a little surprised at my own confusion.
But on Sunday night I felt that I was at my breaking point. I needed
more. I needed Him to be real and show me His glory all over again.
I started to feel like I was at square one (again) in asking Him to
prove it. I realized that I have been a "stiff necked people" in not
taking what He told me for the truth, and in that I was jipping
myself from resting in His grace. So on Tuesday night I emptied
myself out before Him and He showed me 1 John 5:15..."And if we
KNOW that He hears us, whatever we ask, we know that we have the
petitions that we have asked of Him". PRAISE THE LORD! I took that
with me to bed and rested in His word.

So this morning I woke up and got ready for a follow-up ultrasound
that was supposed to check on the growth rate of Charlotte and to
make sure her placenta is functioning properly (pretty important
stuff). I was not sure if I should look at the monitor and ask
questions or not because I didn't know what to expect. But I really
had a desire to see my baby girl. I prayed all while getting dressed
that God would give me just a little bit of hope. Any good news at
all. I resolved though, that whatever was said, good or bad, I
would still believe what God has told me in that He has done it.
Not 'going' to do it, but already done it. The best I had hoped for
was the tech to say she was growing ok and that all is well until my
next check up. What she said was so much better.

When I was called in, the tech noticed that I'd already had a "few
scans" and asked what was going on. I told her that Charlotte has
a serious heart defect and a couple of other things that the doctors
think lead to Trisomy 18. I then realized what I said and stopped
mid sentence (through misty eyes) and said: "I needed to make a
correction. The doctors think they see a defect and markers,
but that God has told me she was ok, and that's what I was there
for: to see that she was ok." The tech looked a little surprised,
but said "Ok, let's go".

So over the course of the scan I explained all the things that the
specialists said were going on as the tech read her own file copy.
Starting mid section, she scanned Charlottes' spine (noting how
beautiful the shape was, so smooth) and looked at her tummy. She
said that her "small stomach" was on the littler side of things, but
only a week behind schedule. When she came to her umbilical cord, I
told her that they said she only had one artery and one vein. She
didn't see that at all. She saw all three! She even diagramed for me
what it should look like, and there it was, up on the screen! She
went over it about 4-5 times, just to make sure she counted it
right.

She then asked me about Charlottes' feet and if I knew if they were
clubbed or not. I hadn't even seen them before so she scanned over
them and showed me 10 perfect little toes (her words) with the heels
crossing at the bottom. No clubbing! So of course I was wondering
about her hands… they were closed but not clenched. There was fluid
in her palms, showing that she was able to open and close them! Then
came the facial dimensions. I told her about the small chin thing
and again, she said she doesn't see what's been written in the
report they gave her! She has a fine chin! A little tiny turned up
nose and her head measured exactly 34 weeks! And in typical Curry
fashion, Charlotte stuck her tongue out at us several times… all the
while the tech was saying…"Did you see that, look how cute she is!"

Moving on to her skull, I mentioned that the doctors were thinking
that she may only have one lobe and not 2 sides of her brain and
that she had several Choroid Plexus Cysts. "Humpf!" she said. "Well,
here's the line that divides her brain, do you see it?" Well, what
about the cysts I asked...NOT THERE! Not even a trace. The tech
said that she even expected to see the ventricles enlarged, but
that they actually aren't even dilated! No cysts in her brain or in
her placenta!

Now was the biggie… her heart. The tech said that she is not the
specialist, but she doesn't see what all the fuss is about. All 4
chambers were there, looking to be working as they should. She told
me that the doctors would be calling me soon, but all looked to be
ok!

Since I've gotten home there have been so many tears! As quickly as
my world tumbled is as quickly as I feel it built back up. It's
indescribable.

Of course I am pleased that Charlotte looks to be ok, but more than
that I have been touched at His faithfulness. My perspective didn't
change His purpose. Just because I sometimes doubted , that never
changed what His plans are. What an awesome God!

As you can probably imagine, I still feel a little guarded over this
news. I want the specialists to call me and confirm what was seen
today. But even if they don't, I know that Jesus has had His hands
busy. I look forward to the day that Charlotte is born so all those
who have wondered if the doctors were just "wrong" can see His true
majesty. There will be no second guessing and her heart will be
beautiful!

I suppose now I will be following up with the doctors again in a few
days to see what they think. I'll of course keep you posted.

I do still ask for your prayers that Brian and I will be able to
stand firm on these findings and that we will not get discouraged or
doubt. This has been such a weird experience for me. But I thank all
of you for keeping us lifted up. I hope this will comfort and
quicken your hearts as well. "For the Lord will not cast off
forever. Though He causes grief, yet He will show compassion
according to the multitude of His mercies"…Lamentations 3:31

Blessings,
Christine

Fwd: UPDATE on Christine and baby Charlotte

2007-04-19T02:06:00.000-07:00

This was posted on my churches yahoo group and I thought it said everything we need to say and I will flesh out the other details....

Christine Curry has left the hospital stating God is not done with
her or the baby yet. She is now on her way home and God is doing
amazing things. He also gave the same words to someone else who was
praying for her, who didn't know God was giving them each the same
word... Please continue to pray for a miracle. God is not through
with this family yet. He wants to do a miracle!!!!
Let us all be witnesses to signs and wonders of God's Amazing
Miracles and Glory!!!!!
Please continue to pray for them!!
Love in Jesus,
Julie

We will continue to post updates here as we can and keep you up to
date to know how to pray and support this dear family. As of right
now, they need prayer for faith and God's will to be done. They need
peace about their next steps, that they would have faith to continue
to walk in the unforeseen. And last but not least, love to keep the
family safe from the devils attempts to hurt or tear apart their
family.

Here are some scriptures to help you pray and meditate on:
Romans 1:12
"....that you and I may be mutually encourage by each other's faith"
2 Corinthians 5:7
"We live by faith, not by sight"
Ephesians 6:16
"In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which
you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one".

Due to the sensitivity of the situation and the energy of Christine,
if you wish to call anyone for updates, you can call either myself
(Am) or Valerie.

God Bless you all,

Ami Andrews
(mother of Brooke 2 years and Sarah 8 months)

Not finished yet...(Dec 1st)

2007-04-19T02:05:00.001-07:00

"Though the fig tree may not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines; Though the labor of the olive may fail, and the fields yield no food; though the flock may be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls- yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation"…Habakhuh 3:17

Some of you reading this email may have been waiting for a response
from my lips, and I thank you for your patience and your continued
prayers. Others may not have any idea as of yet what has been
happening since Friday, December 1st.

I will start by saying that I have been asked by the doctors at
Kaiser to have twice a week monitoring over the growth of Charlotte
with my first session being last Wednesday (November 29).
Meanwhile, since the good ultrasound, I had been feeling more and
more anxious instead of relaxed. Spiritually, I felt as if this
couldn't be over so quickly, like it almost hadn't happened. And as
weird as it may sound, I wasn't fully persuaded that it was over. I
chalked it up to the Enemy just trying to confuse me with doubt
over what great things God had shown me. Internally, it wore me down
in other areas such as my attitude towards Brian and the kids. I had
really left the back door open for the flaming arrows to hit me.

I was happy that my care could remain in here rather than having
to travel to Sacramento just yet. All seemed to be fine at that
appointment; fluid levels were within range and baby's activity was
good. My last glowing ultrasound showed everything was headed in the
right direction for the baby. I was asked to go to see the
Cardiologist in Stockton however, on Thursday(the 30th) for what I hoped would
be a simple ultrasound for Charlotte's heart. Honestly, I was scared
to go because I was afraid of what they were looking for, but I'd
hoped that I would finally get resolution from the doctors about
what they saw from that good ultrasound, feeling that they would just
want to check for themselves that indeed Charlotte was healed! So, I
reluctantly went to see the Cardiologist, and to my surprise the
appointment was canceled due to an emergency the doctor had. After
all, the Cardiologist had already told me that the baby would be
fine in utero as it is my body doing all of the work for her and to
just bring her in after she was born. This was said a few weeks ago.

So, Thursday came and went without a hitch. I even went shopping for
Christmas gifts, figuring I may be too big to try to go out in a few
weeks. My second observation appointment was scheduled for Friday (the 1st) at
11am, but as I was showering, I noticed that Charlotte had been
quite. I then heard/felt/sensed that I wasn't going to see her heart
beat today. I dismissed that notion and continued to get ready. When
I got to my appointment, the nurse attempted to locate Charlotte's
heartbeat but couldn't get an accurate reading. A couple of times we
heard it, than it would get lost. I asked her if Charlotte was gone
and she kept assuring me she was still here and it would just be a
minute to get it. I watched the numbers on the monitor hit at about
160-163 (Charlottes' average on Wednesday was in the 150's) then it
would fade away. So the nurse wheeled over the sonogram machine and
began to look with her eyes. I immediately noticed that Charlotte
wasn't moving, not even to re-adjust herself to get comfortable as I
would move. My heart was racing, but the nurse pointed out that her
heart was "right there" and that the beats looked like little lips
moving. Well, I had seen enough of Charlottes' heart sonograms to
know it wasn't beating how it should have been. There was a slow
BLIP...Blip........blip and that was it. Jesus had allowed me to see her
heartbeat fade into His hands. I asked the nurse again if Charlotte
was gone, and she went to get a doctor. Long story short, the doctor
came in and via ultrasound confirmed that there wasn't a heart
beating. She checked my cervix and noted that I was dilated to 1
(maybe) and in "active labor". No I wasn't, I thought. I could sit
at 1 for three weeks. I did with all the other kids. But whatever.

They called for an ambulance and I called Brian at work and told him
that we lost her and that he needed to come home. After that, I made
a series of short phone calls, most of which I don't even remember.
I didn't cry until I spoke with Brian again, knowing that he had a
long lonely drive back home. The nurse was careful to give me
privacy, so in that time I raised my hands to thank Jesus for
allowing me to see her fade back to Him. I asked Him to hold her
close in a special place until I could see her again. Then the EMTs
arrived and off I went to the hospital.

Once I arrived, the nurse that approached me said how sorry she was
and that she would do whatever she could to make me more
comfortable. Apparently, that didn't include my rooming situation
because they placed my in the office space where the only printer
for the department was kept! Kind of amusing, but a little annoying
when I wanted quiet.

Anyway, on the way to the hospital I was overwhelmed with the *voice/sense*
that God is not finished yet. He was again whispering that I needed
to wait, not to do anything, just wait. I really had no idea what
that meant, but I felt peaceful. So when I saw the nurse again I
realized that I wasn't done yet either. I had to tell her what God
had whispered to me. With that, she asked if I truly BELIEVE that
and I said yes! She then asked what religion I was and when I said
Christian, she opened up in powerful prayer. She told me that she
too is a Believer and that we do not have to rely on what we see on
the monitors or what the tests say. We can stand together in faith
that our God is greater than that and that He will do what He sees
fit. He is capable of doing more than I could ever imagine.

I almost passed out! I was so overjoyed and relieved that she was
there for me as I have been praying for weeks that God would have
His people surrounding me in every aspect. Again, I prayed and
thanked Him for that answer. She then told me that I do not have to
stay at the hospital (and that she could probably get in trouble for
telling me that, but she didn't care, just to expect resistance from
the doctors). But I do have the freedom to go home to my family and
spend time with God. So that's what I've done. I'm now at home.
Waiting on the Lord.

The doctor that came in to discharge me was unexpectedly pleasant
and let me go without a confrontation (another direct answer to
prayer). I told her that I was more comfortable in going home and
being with the Lord and my family in waiting for Him to bring forth
Charlotte in His due time.

As you know, I have been trying to stand on the promises that God
has given to me. I truly believe them, and believe that they are
from God. But I know that whatever His will is, it is good and
perfect. I am not afraid of what I do not know right now, afraid to
let go or to hold on. I don't doubt that God is not finished. He is
still working, just as He said He was. I trust Him completely.

There of course are concerns about my health, which I ask for
prayers. The doctor asked if I would contact her on Monday to let
her know how I was doing, but that was it. Kinda surprised me that I
was free to go, but they gave me a list of things to look for such
as bleeding, fever, etc. which I've had none. I've sort of
cocooned myself with Brian and the kids in our home, which has been
very comforting. I've not answered the phones much, but did go to
services this morning. It felt good to be surrounded by my other
brothers and sisters in Christ. I know that it is a weird situation
to watch someone to go through, but please don't be afraid to talk
to me. I am ok and of sound mind. I'm more than willing to answer
questions as I know there are many. But at this time I am keeping to
my family, but wanted to write (once again) to let you know I am ok.

Brian is holding up well, which I am also thankful for. He has taken
on the task of watching the boys without me having to ask and
Airenne has helped tremendously with the housework. Zachariah asked
if I was all done crying and if Charlottes' heart was
still "blood". I have decided that I am not going to tell him too
much as he doesn't understand and it's too big for his little
shoulders to carry anyway. We have prayed together much and with
great expectation. It only takes one breath of God to bring her back
to us. And that's what we are asking for.

I know that some people may be very concerned with my decision to
wait at home and to not have expelled Charlotte on Friday. But I
would be remiss to ignore the voice that has been my comfort these
past few months which is the same one that has told me over and over
again to "be not afraid, only believe". I have become weary at
times, but Jesus is faithful to complete the good work which He has
started.

I thank all of you for carrying us at times and hope to share more
news with you within the next few days.

In His Everlasting Arms,

Christine & Family

Email response: re:Jesus Knew My Name

2007-04-19T02:00:00.001-07:00

Subject: RE: Jesus Knew My Name

Dear Christine,

Thank you for sharing your beautiful poem with me. It made me weep with
tears of understanding, joy, sadness, hope, and other things that I don't
even know how to name. I am so blessed to know that the Lord is holding you
so close to him, and whispering sweet and comforting words of love to your
heart, for you could not write so beautifully about Him and Charlotte if
that were not the case. I praise Him for loving you so much! Even though
it does still hurt me to think about all that you have been through. I am
comforted that Jesus has been with you at every turn, and for the blessing
that you have been to countless souls, saints and sinners alike. The Lord
only knows all the untold good that will be borne out of your faithful walk
through the valley of the shadow of death as a faithful soldier of Christ.

You and your family are in my prayers,

Lucinda

"Grief" (a poem)

2007-04-19T01:53:00.001-07:00

"Grief"

I must've left the door open
Because you came in with the breeze.
Not a clamorous entry;
But a gentle rustling of the trees.

I wasn't sure if you were there-
For you hadn't left a trace.
But after looking high and low-
I found you in this place.

Behind my every tear is where
You have chose to hide.
With every beat, my heart grows sad
Knowing forever you'll abide.

Who told you that I live here?
I had sent no invitation...
I look to close the door ajar,
With deepened resignation.

You are not a friend of mine,
You are not a welcomed guest.
But somehow you're trapped inside of me,
Co-existence at it's best.

Grief, you sit beside me
Whispering ever in my ear.
Until the door opens wide again,
So the wind can dry my tears.

One day though, your name will change,
After much I'll reminisce...
You will be called "Bittersweet"
If that makes a difference.

For now I have to surrender
To the hole you've had to fill
Left by my little Charlotte,
When she was born so still.

Christine Curry 3-31-07

Email response: From Lori

2007-04-19T01:49:00.001-07:00

=====================
From: Lori Kelly
Subject: From my friend Tessie -

Hi Christine,

I sent Tessie your pictures and Poem and she went them to a group we were in together. We were praying.... I wanted to pass on the email she sent out, I thought it was good. Are you going tomorrow? I have been feeling pretty bad today. I am going to try and make it...

See you!

_____________________

I know we spoke of this lady in our group and her very rough pregnancy...all
the things wrong with her baby and then the miracle God did by healing
little baby Charlotte....

Charlotte's body was healed and the deformities gone, her mother Christine
was allowed to see her baby girl without all the physical ailments that she
had during ultrasounds. God gave Christine and Brian a perfect little babies body....but
God still wanted Charlotte and she never breathed our air, for Charlotte was
not born of this world.
She was always intended for His glory. And today Charlotte is with Him and
her worldly family goes on.

Attached are the pictures that her mother, Christine had taken the day
Charlotte was born into this world, without her heart beating.
Though sad this story is, ultimately it is a story of real faith, and trust
in how God healed Christine's beautiful baby girl, for an eternity in Heaven
with Him.

I admire her strength and faith, through everything, the doctors advice, the
trials of a baby that could have been born with so many birth defects, and
Christine didn't sway in her decision or faith to let the Lord do whatever his plan was. Some day I hope to have such faith, where my decisions are solely based on my love and
trust in our Lord Jesus Christ.

May God bless and keep Christine and her family, and thank God for
Charlotte; and how she brought so many to prayer.
Only God knows our future, and the why's...........we need just Trust in
what He wants for us and those we love. Look beyond the loss and to what
He did for and through this amazing little baby girl, Charlotte. May
we all remember, anything is possible with our Lord, Jesus Christ.

Here is a poem that Christine, Charlotte's mother wrote after the Lord took
her Baby girl home to be with him.

Jesus Knew My Name

You did not get to hold me
No, you did not get to see
All the things a baby does,
Simply weren't for me.

But do not cry in sorrow
And do not cry in shame.
See, all your prayers were answered,
Because Jesus knew my name.

I know it may not feel like it;
But He did just as He said.
From my little tiny feet,
To the curls atop my head.

He healed this vessel made of flesh,
To look just like my brother.
But it was my little heart He stopped,
While speaking to my mother.

For my appointed time was spent
Inside my mommy's womb;
But He did hear all your voices pray:
"Not now Lord, it's too soon..."

While deep in secret my tiny frame
He skillfully had wrought.
There were so many questions,
The only answer was "Fear not."

I did not have a choice you see,
Now please do understand.
I would have liked to meet you all,
But that was never in His plan.

For no, I'm not an angel
With wings fluttering about;
But I have heard all the angels sing
Praises in joyful shout!

But in a shady almond grove
Is where my shell shall be...
Until the day He returns and says
"Charlotte, come to me..."

I'm in the best place that I could be,
And you can love me just the same.
I'm cradled in the Shepard's arms,
For Jesus knew my name.

Christine Curry 01-20-07