When to Talk to Your Children about the Bad Stuff

       Yesterday my heart broke into pieces.  Yesterday a city I once called home experienced the worst shooting in American history.  Yesterday I watched Facebook for hours upon hours waiting to see my Pacific time zone friends check in that they were safe and unharmed by the chaos during a concert.  When you have lived in a city that experiences such a horrific act, you are bound to know someone, if not many, who were directly affected by the mass shooting.

       I saw one of my friends post on Instagram the questions so many of us moms and parents face on a daily basis.  Do I tell my kids?  How much do I tell my kids?  How do I shatter their innocence with the evil that exists in our world?  How do I burden their heart with the pain that so many are experiencing?  There are no right answers, and for each child and every family the right answers may be different.  But I don’t have those questions anymore.

       Yesterday a mom had to tell her little ones their dad was in the hospital.  Yesterday a dad had to tell his littles that their mom had died.  Yesterday parents had to tell their children their big sister had been shot.  Yesterday students lost a teacher.  Parents have a choice to talk or not talk about the bad stuff until it is unavoidable.  And for so many yesterday, it was unavoidable.  The pain, heartache, and tears were all unavoidable.

        When we found out our baby Ella no longer had a heartbeat at 24 weeks, the conversation of death was unavoidable.  As a mom, I am so thankful that was not our first conversation of death.  We had merely hours to prepare our girls for what was to come.  We had merely hours to talk about death, heaven, sin, reasons why, and wipe away tears before we left them with grandparents to head to the hospital.  Those were also hours when we as parents were experiencing a whirlwind of emotions ourselves.  I can only imagine how much harder those hours would have been if that was the first conversation our family had had about death.

       Death is a part of life.  It is a painful part of life and a topic we adults usually prefer to avoid.   But it is still a part of life.  Evil exists in this world.  Sin is all around us, and sometimes it comes out in unimaginable, horrific forms.

        A few weeks following the death of Ella we got together with some friends.  They had just experienced the unexpected death of a family member.  There we were.  Two moms sipping coffee while our children played.  Both so fragile.  Both so broken by recent events in our own lives.  Both so unsure of how to parent through this phase of life neither of us expected to be in.

        Then it happened.  Our two oldest began a conversation.  We were in the middle of clearing and rinsing dishes when we heard my seven-year-old and her six-year-old begin a conversation about death.  Our two children matter of factly discussed the recent events of their lives.  They talked about burning bodies and spreading ashes.  They talked about the decaying process after a person dies.  They talked about heaven, heartbeats, and brain waves.  They repeated conversations we had with them in the prior weeks.  They repeated our answers to the many questions they had for us during funerals and mortuary visits.

        We listened to their innocent voices discussing topics we never intended to bring into their lives at this age.  We were two broken moms clinging to each other’s arms, holding each other up.  Each of us wondered if we had answered their questions correctly.  Had we shared too much?  Did we not share enough?  Did we guide them well?  Did we teach them how to process the last few weeks?  Did we prepare them to discuss this correctly with friends and strangers?

        Eventually their conversation moved to another topic, and our grip on each other lightened as we both began to exhale.  Our fragile mama hearts were still ok.  Our children discussed death and all the information their little brains had soaked up in the past few weeks.  They didn’t say anything offensive, hurtful, incorrect, or negative.  Most of their conversation was purely factual and very casual.  In so many ways they spoke about death so much better than we do as adults.  We looked at each other, and without saying a word, we both knew what the other was thinking.  We had done ok.  We taught them well.  We answered their questions correctly.  We had brought them to this moment when they could talk to their friends about death.  In our most difficult parenting moments, we had done ok.

        Following the death of their baby sister, I learned a lot about my two girls.  They understand hard truths better than I used to give them credit for.  They have experienced pain.  As their mom, I wish I could have shielded them from that pain.  They have seen me cry, break down, and fail.  They have seen me grieve.  There are so many times in the last year and a half I was sure that I was failing them, but I look back now and see how they have grown and what they have gained.  They experienced pain, but they have gained compassion.  They understand death, but they also see the beauty in heaven.  Their innocence will never be the same.  But they have gained wisdom.  So often they have the ability to talk about their feelings, death, and the bad stuff so much better than we do as adults.

        Parenting is hard.  Momming is hard.  Did I guide them through the hard stuff perfectly? No.  But I did the best I could.  And they are ok.  They are stronger.  They are more prepared for the hard stuff.  And with each hard conversation, we get the opportunity to talk about the good.  Because with all the bad stuff, there is always good.  There is always hope.  There is sin, yet there is forgiveness.  There is death, yet there is heaven.  There are people who cause pain, yet there are people who help.  There is Satan, yet there is Jesus.

        This mom business is no joke.  There are so many situations we face without a clear path.  Do you share the bad stuff?  Do you shelter your children?  Is there a right answer?  I still don’t know.  But I do know that we should expect the bad stuff. That truth is written for us in Scripture.

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” John 16:33

        The trouble is coming.  It is coming for us.  It is coming for our children.  And when the bad stuff knocks down your door, when you no longer have the choice to shelter your children from it because it has shattered your world, I pray that God gives you the words to guide them through the bad stuff.  I pray that when you face the trouble, you are able to navigate the many questions that will arise.  I pray that you can take heart.  I pray that you will have peace in Christ.  I pray that with the peace of Christ, you will know how to help your littles face the bad stuff. 

        Dear moms in Las Vegas and around the world who have suffered from the shooting on October 1 and to the many parents who do not have a choice to shelter your children,

I am praying for you.  I am praying for the many difficult questions you will have to answer in the coming days and weeks.  I pray that you have the strength to show your children how to live and love through pain and uncertainty.  I pray that you can find the good to point to amidst the very bad you are currently facing.  I pray for you as you help your children grieve when you are grieving yourself.  I pray for you as you send your children out into the scary world that they are no longer sheltered from when they go to school, to friends’ houses, and to classes.  I pray for your heart as it aches with fear.  I pray for you during this unimaginable time.   Take heart, dear mamas. He has told us in this world you will have trouble, and it has knocked down your door, but our Savior has overcome this world!

 

25 Things This Mom Wants INSTEAD of Breakfast In Bed

Dear Children,

My birthday is coming up and before you decide you want to make me breakfast in bed, I thought we should clear something up.  Most moms do not want breakfast in bed.  I am not even sure where this idea started in the first place. Breakfast in bed usually makes a mess (from the kitchen all the way up to my bedroom – and oh how this will bring in the ants). On my birthday or on Mother’s Day, I really do not want to clean up a mess.  I am pretty sure all moms would like a day off from cleaning messes.

Also, I am not a big eat-breakfast-right-away person.  I am more of a sip-coffee-in-silence person and eat later.  So eating breakfast in bed does not appeal to this mom on several levels.  And to follow the art of gift-giving, you should always strive to give a gift that the receiver would want.

But you want to make me breakfast in bed. That tells me that you have an amazing heart that longs to serve others, and I love that about you.  So this year, I came up with a list of 25 ways you could celebrate me instead of bringing me breakfast in bed.  Pick one or pick a few.  

  1.     Clean your room – don’t roll your eyes at me.  Nothing makes me happier in the middle of the day than walking down the hall and seeing a clean room through the crack in your door.  When you have a clean room, it makes me feel like I am doing something right as a mom.
  2.     Let me sleep in – Oh, how I miss sleep!   Ever since you bounced into my life nine years ago, sleeping in is a rare treasure.
  3.     Draw me a picture – show me your talents and skills. Draw our family or something you love.  Take your time and use all the colors.  I love watching you develop your artistic skills and treasure your art throughout the years.
  4.     Play a game with your sister – without complaining or whining or squabbling.  Play nicely.  Laugh together.  Have fun.  Let me hear your kind words to each other from the next room.
  5.     Give me some quiet time – I have hobbies and pastimes that I rarely get to enjoy in the midst of Mommy-ing and housework.  Letting me have some quiet time to read, write, or draw is truly a gift.
  6.     Do something kind for someone else – help Daddy, offer to play with the little kids of one of our friends, offer to help our neighbor with their chores.  Share kindness with others.
  7.     Read a book – I know you love to do this anyway.  Reading is so great for you!  You learn so much when you read.  I love that you are a reader.  Read to your sister, too.  Help her sound out the small words in her book.  Share with her, your love of reading.
  8.     Write me a letter – I love to read your writing.  I love to see your penmanship develop as you get older.  I love to read the way you organize your thoughts.  I will keep this letter forever because as your mom I know how quickly these days will fly by and your thoughts and ideas and penmanship will continue to grow.
  9. Write your grandparents a letter – it is hard for them that we are so far away.  It makes them smile, and it makes me happy to know that you can still have a relationship with them even though the miles between us are so many.
  10. Clean up the playroom – I know, I know.  The playroom is such an overwhelming task but it makes me happy to see it organized.  I am also much more likely to let your friends come over in the future when the playroom is neat and the toys are put away.
  11. Make yourself breakfast – help your sister make breakfast.  I have taught you important skills.  Making your own breakfast is one of them.  Do that without needing me and you can also achieve #2 in the same act of kindness.
  12. Play me a song – you love music.  I love that you love music.  I love to see you practice at the piano or recorder.  I love to see you put time and effort into developing skills.  I would love to hear a song for my birthday.
  13. Give me a whole day without complaining – is that possible?  I bet you could do it.  It might take you some extra thought but I bet you would be able to go the whole day without being negative.
  14. Empty the trash – all the trash.  Don’t stop with the kitchen.  Empty the bathroom trash, too!  And the bedrooms!   Take it all the way to the outside trash can.  Make it disappear from my sight.  I think I would be much happier if I didn’t see trash at all on my birthday.
  15. Memorize a Bible verse – write it on the tablet of your heart.  I love to hear you recite God’s Word and watch you read the Bible.
  16. Sort through your toys – you know how I say put your toys away in the RIGHT spots.  I know you don’t always do this.  I know there are dolls in the box of Legos.   I know there are game pieces in the puzzles.  Sort through your toys and put them all back in their correct spots.  Order makes me smile.
  17. Clean up your clothes – actually fold your laundry and put the clothes all the way in the drawer.  You know, so it doesn’t look like your drawers are throwing up shirts and pajamas.  It would be great to walk by your room and see your drawers closed without clothes peeking out.
  18. Put together a give-away bag – go through some of your toys, clothes, and shoes.  Find the items you don’t play with anymore or the ones you have outgrown.  Put them in a bag and let’s give it to someone who would be able to use them.
  19. Give me a whole day without arguing – this is possible, too.  I know you can do it.  No comparing life with your sister.   Life isn’t fair anyway, so no need to point it out and get upset about it.  Your sister got the United States placemat before you did? That is great for her.  Tell her you think so.  Your sister wants to ride bikes, and you want to play Legos–maybe you can do both or just play separately.  I am sure for one day you can solve all your problems with kind words and cooperation.
  20. Clean your desk – get it ready for work to be done.  A clean desk provides a better workspace and allows for more concentration and productivity (look it up).  Clear off the entire top; don’t just push papers to the side.  Clean underneath it.  Stack your books nicely on the shelves.  Remember how much I love organized spaces!
  21. Sweep the patio – I know it is not your fault that life is dirty and things like the patio just get dusty and filled with leaves.  But help out the family and sweep it just because you are kind and want to be helpful.
  22. Clean out the car – Oh, is this a big one, and unlike #21, this one is probably your mess.  It especially gets bad when you find that two-week old juice box that your father bought you.  I know it stinks, but if you think so, you should have cleaned the car back when you were just two years old and found your milk cup that rolled under the seat from who-knows-when.  But again, it’s a job that needs to get done and it will make me happy if I don’t have to do it.
  23. Flush the toilet – can you do this all year?  If I never have to remind you of this again, I will be overjoyed!  Why don’t you remember this on your own?  It doesn’t matter, but can you start remembering now?
  24. Write me a story – just like your letters and drawing, I love your imagination and creativity.  I love to hear your thoughts and dreams.  Write them down.  Dream up a character and a place and write them down so I can treasure it forever.
  25. Give me a hug and tell me you love me – there is no better gift on my birthday than your love!

I love you my dearest children!  Thank you for thinking of me on my birthday.  Thank you for wanting to serve me.  Thank you also for taking direction and serving me in a way I want to be served.

You are growing up to be kind and generous young ladies, and I can’t wait to see how God is going to use you in this world.

Love always and forever,

Mom

 

A Letter of Many Thanks

To the friends and family who hosted us for dinner, took us in overnight, or met us at random places in the middle of the day during our homeservice,

Homeservice. n.  The period of time given to a missionary or missionary family to return back to their native country and connect with supporters, continue to raise funds for their mission, spend time with family, eat at all their favorite restaurants, cram in doctors’ appointments, spend an incredible amount of time in the car, expect unrealistically good behavior from young children while keeping them up late and getting them up early, experience all the emotional feels when connecting with dear friends only to say goodbye again, to be completely and utterly exhausted and feel regenerated at the same time by the hugs and prayers.

We want to say thank you from the bottom of our hearts.  You opened up your home, you rearranged your schedule, you took us in, and you loved us as though no time had passed at all.  So as we get ready to head back to the mission field, we need to stop and take a moment to thank you–our family, friends, acquaintances, and yesterday’s strangers.

  •      Thank you for the dinners you prepared for our family with food restrictions.  Thank you for calling ahead and asking what foods we missed.  Thank you for not judging or caring when our children did not finish their plates or turned up their noses at normal “American” food.  It is amazing how quickly beans and rice became their new normal.
  •      Thank you for opening up your home and moving your children onto the floor to give us beds.  We are sorry that we are not easier guests to house.  We usually arrived late and exhausted and sometimes left in the early hours of the morning to get to our next presentation.  We are sorry we could not help more with the clean-up of dishes, laundry, and toys. Your kindness is remembered.
  •      Thank you for the Starbucks. 
  •      Thank you for sitting with us in church, for surrounding us with love and not making us feel like strangers.  Thank you for worshipping alongside us and for handing us tissues when the sound of hymns in English had tears running down our faces.
  •      Thank you for letting us do laundry while we stayed with you for a few days and for letting us repack our suitcases for the umpteenth time with clean clothes instead of dirty ones.  Living out of a suitcase is exhausting, and you made it easier.
  •     Thank you for the books that your children are done reading.  Thank you for giving them to our girls.  Thank you for letting us take them back to the DR so they can share them with the other missionary kids when they are done reading them.
  •     Thank you for meeting us at random times to grab a drink and catch up when it was most convenient for us.  Thank you for listening to our stories and asking questions about our life.  

  •      Thank you for taking me to Sprouts, letting me walk slowly down each aisle, and not laughing at me when I longingly gazed upon the rows of fresh organic produce.  Colorful fruit and veggies never looked so beautiful.  Thank you also for buying my favorite trail mix after watching me squeal in the store when I saw it on the shelf.
  •      Thank you for the can of static cling spray when I was having a wardrobe malfunction during our presentation.  Seriously.  Thank you.
  •      Thank you for letting our children play.  Playing with new toys, in yards, trees, and grass, and on bikes are all pastimes they miss. They had so much fun playing at your houses.  Thank you for letting them run, jump, make noise, and be kids.
  •      Thank you for passing up the opportunity to cook for us and taking us out to dinner at our favorite restaurant or even going to get take-out and letting us eat in your home.  After two years, In-and-Out, Rubios, Wahoos, Panera, Robertos, CPK, and so many other yummy places were such amazing treats for us.
  •      Thank you for the thoughtful gifts–gifts of encouragement that remind us of home or you.  We will treasure them and think of you often when we use them in the DR.
  •      Thank you for all the forgiveness on Sunday mornings.  Getting children ready for church can usually be a stressful (and sometimes not a God-pleasing) task.  But when you get children ready in someone else’s house for all the services, all the while constantly reminding them they will need to stand up in front of the congregation somewhat well-behaved without doing such things as picking noses or lifting up dresses, that morning rarely goes without yelling and tears.  So thank you for allowing us the space and room we needed to deal with all the messiness of life that comes with Sunday mornings on homeservice.
  •     Thank you also for understanding that, after talking to as many people as humanly possible before and after church, we are just plain talked out at that point.  Thank you for letting us sit on your couch and watch mindless TV while we rested after the morning’s business.  
  •      Thank you for watching our children or finding us a sitter so Blake and I could have a date night or a grown-up night out.
  •      Thank you for not turning your air conditioning on when we got too chilly.  We didn’t realize how we must have adjusted to the humidity and warm weather.  Thank you for letting us borrow sweatshirts and sweatpants when we visited because we just couldn’t warm up.
  •      Thank you for putting your sermons and church services online.  We love staying connected with your church by listening each week along with you.  It is also great for us to hear God’s Word and hymns in our native language.
  •      Thank you for mailing us all the things we forgot.  Why we couldn’t leave a house with all of our belongings is beyond me, but everywhere we stayed we seemed to leave something important.  So thank you for gathering and sending our stuff to our next location.  Even when you included things in the box that I did not want like a rubber snake that my girls think is hilarious to hide under my pillow and listen for my screams of surprise. Thank you. I am grateful.
  •      Thank you for reading our newsletter and blog posts.  Thank you for asking about stories we shared.  Knowing we have supporters, friends, and families who regularly read what we write means so much to us.  Thank you for your encouraging words and follow-up questions about what we have written.  Thank you also for the grace when we miss a month or two.  Thank you for understanding that sometimes life is hard and we can’t find the words to fill a newsletter.  Thank you for noticing when those months go by and writing us to check in.  
  •      Thank you for all the coffee.  Thank you for the extra cups as we tried to wake up and put on our game face for the next presentation.  Thank you for fixing coffee when you don’t even drink coffee yourself.  There are some Latin America habits we have picked up these past two years.  Coffee is one of them.  
  •      Thank you for being the kind of friend who had my favorite wine in the fridge and let me wash my pants (while I wore yours) so they would be clean for our next trip.  Friends like you are few and far between.
  •      Thank you for understanding when my children threw the toilet paper in your trash cans.  Habits are hard to break.  While this is one of my favorite parts of being back in the US, my girls just don’t always remember they can put the toilet paper in the toilet.  I know it is gross and smells, and I get how annoying it is to clean up.  Thank you for putting up with that while we visited you.
  •     Thank you for taking time out of your busy day to take our family photo.  Having updated beautiful photos of our girls and our family means more to us than we can say, and we are so grateful.
  •      Thank you for the road snacks and for sending us on our way to our next stop with cold water and full bellies.
  •      Thank you for listening to our stories, for including us in yours, for letting us feel like no time has passed at all. It is comforting to know our friendship can withstand this distance of miles and culture and time.  There are no words to express how meaningful it is for us to know that we are still just as close with you now as we were before we left.
  •      Thank you for supporting us with your dollars and your prayers.  It means the world to us when we see our friends’ and families’ names on our donor list.  We know there are lots of ways you can spend the money God has given you, and we are humbled and grateful that you choose to support our family while we serve God in the Dominican Republic.

So dear friends and family, as we prepare to return to the Dominican Republic for another two years, we thank you.  These past weeks would not have been as enjoyable or even possible without the love you have shown us.

We needed to find rest in your hospitality, friendship, and love.  We needed to tell you about the good works God is doing in the Latin America region.  We needed to see your excitement when we showed up for our presentations.  We needed to see our prayer card on your fridge.  We needed to know that we are being prayed for by families, classrooms, and congregations.  We needed this because it is hard. It is so hard.

We feel so far from you when we are away.  Even though this work is rewarding, it is also very challenging in ways we may never be able to articulate.   So thank you so so much for all the ways you support us.  Thank you for renewing our spirits and building us up to return to the mission field, ready to serve another twenty-two months before we can return to your hospitality once more.

We love you, friends, and we will miss you greatly.

The Warrens

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A Prayer From My Mama Heart

“Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it.” Proverbs 22:6

 

Dear Father in Heaven

This motherhood gig-–it’s no joke. It’s exhausting, full of difficult decisions, and some days I just need a break. My heart loves with a capacity that I didn’t know was possible. These children bring me more joy than I deserve. I love being a mom. But I feel so much pressure to get it right. There are so many moments I think I am failing them. Am I on the right track?

I love these littles You’ve given me. This year has been tough. I have learned lessons I never wanted to learn.  I have taught lessons I never wanted to teach.  I have learned that although they are my children on earth they really still belong to You. That isn’t always easy for my mama heart to grasp.


Today I need to lay my weakness at Your feet. I need to confess my sinful nature as a mom. But Father, please be gentle with me. My mama heart is fragile.

My love for these littles is so so great that too much of the time I spend in fear. Fear for their safety. Fear for their health. Fear for their future. And fear that I am not making the best choices for them. I have taken their well being out of Your hands and tried to carry that responsibility myself. That is not my job as their mother. And God, You and I both know that I am just not capable to protect them from the dangers in this world. Only You can do that. It is solely my job to train them up in the way they should go and trust you with the rest.

That is really hard for me to do. So be patient with me, I may fall into my old ways more often than I’d like to admit.

Back to that train them up thing, I need to make a confession here, too. When you said “the way they should go” – I realize that only You know what that way is for my children. I am guilty of thinking I know the best plan for their life. But You have shown me that Your ways are better (even when I don’t understand them). Forgive me for thinking I know best. I don’t.

So today from my tender mama heart I ask for Your forgiveness.  I lay my children in Your loving hands. I lay down all the ways I thought they should go.  I lay down all I tried to control.  I lay down their health, their future, their lives. Because truthfully, Lord, all I want for their lives is for them to honor You in all they do and to bring glory to Your name.

And if that means

They do not get into great schools,

They do not excel in future jobs

They do not marry and have children

The world does not recognize their talents

They are overcome with illness

or


They do not outlive me in this world

BUT

They love others the way You do

They selflessly care for Your people

They give cheerfully

and

They praise You in all circumstances

Then that is all that I could ask for in this life. I put these children You have given me back in Your hands (because they were never really mine to take anyway), and I trust You with their future.

One more thing, Father, when they do encounter challenges and struggles and pain in their life to ultimately bring you glory, can you help me adequately prepare them?  Help me train them today to face whatever You have in store for them tomorrow.  Help me model for them in word and deed.  Help the fruits of my life be an example of Your goodness. Let them see me love and care and give.  Let them see me praise You in all circumstances.  Let my life as their mama bring You glory.

Thank You for trusting me to be their mama.

Help me honor You in this job.

Amen

 

Please Don’t Read This

Please don’t read this… unless you will hold me and all moms of infant loss with overwhelming compassion.  Please don’t read this unless you can set aside all judgments and preconceptions you may not even realize you have.  Please don’t read this unless you can respond with kind words and encouragement.                

This past year has rocked my world.  I crumbled. This blog is different.  This blog recounts the last twelve months.  One thing that has helped me in my journey of grief is finding other moms that share my fears, irrational anxiety, pain, terror, tears, anger, and sadness.  It helps to know I am not crazy, and I am not alone in my grief.  It is ok for a mother to grieve the loss of a baby she did not get to take home, and it is ok if that grief is hard and ugly.  So this blog post is a glimpse into my journal from the past year — and maybe there is a mom out there who is going through the very few ups and many downs and more downs of the grief journey that I have walked. Maybe she will find comfort in my pain.

I am asking you, please don’t read this unless you are willing to take an honest look into a mother’s grieving heart and not pass judgment.

 

 

Day 1:  May 4th, 1:00 am

Dear God, You protected me that night in the hospital room.  We brought our daughter into this world even though she had already gone home to you weeks before.  We were able to hold her tiny perfect body in our hands and witness the amazing love with which you created her.  As horrible as that day was, You made it good, and I will be forever grateful for the joy I was able to feel when I met my Gabriella.

 

Day 3:  May 7th

Despite my best efforts with cabbage cream and compression, my milk came in.  What a punch to the gut. Seven years ago I cried for nights upon nights wishing my milk to come in to feed my first daughter.  And now my milk comes in, it’s physically painful, and I have no baby to feed.

 

Day 4:  May 8th

It’s Mother’s Day.  My body is healing fine.  There is a drastic hole in my heart, and I just can’t celebrate today.  I just want this day to pass as quickly as possible.  It hurts so much.

 

Day 5: May 9th

We went to the funeral home today.  It felt like we were sleepwalking.  It was a good thing my husband was driving because I was only half there.  I remember sitting there as we looked at the tiniest urns they offered, trying to decide how big an urn we actually needed for her tiny body.  I remember thinking that I shouldn’t be here picking out an urn for my daughter.  The first time I should be making decisions in a funeral home should be after I lose a parent.  You aren’t supposed to bury a child.   This is not how the order of life should go.

 

Day 8: May 12th

Today we went to the beach.  I needed to get out of the house and yet not be with people.  We grabbed Starbucks and sat on the beach on this gloomy day.  We looked at the ocean.  We looked at the waves.  The cold, gloomy day is unusual for May, but it suits me.  The big ocean is comforting and reminds me that I am small.  This life is small.  But heaven is forever and this life here is barely a spark in a forest fire.  And even if I hurt this bad for the rest of my life, the joy of being with my baby in heaven will last forever.  The ocean is big.  My pain is big.  My God is bigger.

 

 

Day 16: May 20th

We celebrated the very short life of Gabriella Faith Warren with a very small intimate service surrounded by family and friends.  It was beautiful, and the message was uplifting.  Our pastor talked about the gentle way Gabriella was carried by angels into the arms of Jesus.  That is such a sweet image.  I was touched by the people who took time out of their busy schedules to come that day, rearranging their plans to support us.   Even when it was so hard for them to be there – some physically and some emotionally – they still came.  I noticed.  But even with a beautiful message and wonderful support, I still felt sick.  I didn’t want to be there.  I wanted to be in my bed.  I wanted to hide under my covers.  I didn’t want to come out ever.

 

Day  64:   July 6th

I have severe anxiety about life.  I need help.  Today I called a therapist’s office.  That was one of the hardest phone calls I have ever made.  I am so glad I did, and I am excited to get help.

 

Day  72:  July 14th

After several calls ending with me in a heap of tears on the floor,  I give up.  I can’t figure out insurance and the correct process to get the help I need.  I have been transferred twice to a suicide hotline because they can’t help me find the correct insurance code.  I feel stupid because I can’t answer the questions they are asking.  I feel hopeless because I can’t even figure out how to get myself help.  The process of trying to get help has hurt me so much, and I am so much worse than when I made that first call.  I get that the system is broken, and it isn’t because of people not caring, but I can’t help but feel betrayed by the process.  It shouldn’t be this hard.

 

Day  73: July 15th

My pastor and mom stepped in, found me a therapist, and took care of logistics.  Maybe I will be able to figure out how to go on after all.

 

Day  84: July 26th

I have had two appointments with a therapist.  I wish I could have done more before I had to leave to go back to the Dominican Republic.  Getting help is always a good idea, and I am so glad I found someone to talk to even if it was only twice.  God willing, I will be able to get on that plane.

 

Day  90: August 1st

Here we go again.  We fly to the Dominican Republic.  Again.  I feel sick to my stomach.  I have to leave the tiny box of Ella’s ashes.  I get she is not there.  I get she is heaven, but it doesn’t make it any easier.  I feel as if I lost her all over again.  I don’t want to leave her behind, but I am not sure they would let me take her into another country.  I’m not ready to leave her.  I don’t want to do this.  Lord, give me strength.

 

Day 107:   August 18th

This is the day we had planned to welcome a baby into our home.  I am hiding from the world.  My husband has taken my girls, and I stayed home to cry and write.  Here is my prayer:

 

A mother’s prayer on the day her baby should have been born:

Dear Jesus,

Hold her tonight
Rock her safely in Your arms
Kiss her forehead for me
And let her tiny finger hold onto You

Have the angels sing to her
Tell her of my love
Tell her I’m coming
Someday I will hold her, too

And Jesus, if it’s not too much to ask

Please hold me tonight as well
My heart is breaking
All over again
I don’t understand
And I wish I could know more

Comfort me
Show me how to feel safe in Your grace

Help me continue each day forward
Help me see through the tears to tomorrow
Help me live the rest of this life
Reflecting Your love and not my pain

Forgive me
For not wanting to give her back to You so soon
For clinging to the pain
For not wanting to let go

Restore me
Put back together my broken heart
Teach me how to rejoice again

Make my paths straight
And help me move forward on them
Carry me, Jesus; I don’t know how to do this alone

Kiss her once more before she falls asleep
Tell her I love her
And I will hold her soon.

Amen

 

Day 111:  August 22nd  

Today we started homeschooling our two girls.  This is a first for me.  Will it be too much for my fragile state?  There are a lot of good reasons for our family to homeschool.  But if I’m honest, I just don’t want to send them to school.  I don’t want them to be gone from me all day.  I don’t want to worry about them all day when they are out of my sight.  Am I a horrible mom to make this decision that so greatly impacts their lives, mainly because deep down I am not ready to be apart from them all day long?

 

Day 124:  September 4th

Today I started a blog.  My husband bought me a domain name for my birthday.  It was a gift of support.  A gift that said I believe your writing is important and valuable and I want you to keep going.  So I started a blog.  I am not sure where it will go or what I will write, but I have a place to process.  I am not a talker by nature.  I do much better getting my thoughts out on paper than in actual words I speak.

 

Day  165: October 15th

Today is Infant Loss Awareness Day.  Today I am at the beach for a mission event.  Today all around me kids are playing in the pool.  Moms are laughing.  Missionaries are meeting.  I am crumbling inside.  Today I feel far away from the world.   I feel like no one understands or sees me.  It is a complicated balance of not wanting anyone to know my pain, but so badly wanting to be understood.  I feel alone.

 

Day 198: November 17th

There are two babies here in the mission field that are near the age Ella would be.  I see them, and I see where she should be.  I see the babbling she should be saying.  I see the feeding I would be giving her.  I see the diapers, sleepless nights, and struggles of bringing a baby to another country.  Oh, how my heart longs for those struggles.  Today we made turkey footprints with the little kids.  Today I painted the feet of those babies.  Those tiny beautiful feet that would be about the size of Ella’s feet.   I wonder if those moms can see the pain in my eyes when I am near their babies.  I wonder if they know that even though it hurts beyond words that my baby is not here, I am still glad their babies are.  I hate that it hurts to be around their babies.  And I wonder if over time the hurt will subside.

 

 

Day 205: November 24th

It’s Thanksgiving.  I can’t even.  I don’t feel thankful.  I don’t want to be thankful.  I just want my baby.  Can I just hide in a hole until after the holidays?  They hurt so much.  Why is this still so hard?  Why isn’t this getting easier?  What is wrong with me?

 

Day 182: December 1st

Today we hung stockings.  There is a stocking up for Ella – made by my sister.  When others remember her, it means so much to me.  She will be remembered in our home always.  It will not remain empty.  We will fill it with gifts for a baby girl.  We will deliver these gifts to the hospital where she was born.  We will celebrate life – even when it is hard.

 

Day 212: December 25th

Today we went to take a family picture after the Christmas service.  We took several and then several more.  Each one had something horribly wrong with it.  The light was bad.  Someone was in the shadow.  Someone wasn’t smiling.  I just wanted one good picture on Christmas.  But I can’t seem to get a good picture.  Everyone could have been perfectly smiling in the best light, and it still looked so wrong.  Someone was missing from our photo.  How can we take a family picture when our family is not whole?  God bless our sweet friends who continued to take our picture and never once tried to reason with my craziness.  This is hard.

 

Day 251: January 9th

After Ella died, I started making a playlist on my phone.  I called it “healing.”  It was full of Christian songs and hymns that were uplifting and yet somber.  Blake called it my sad music.  At least it still had a hopeful message even if it all sounded melancholy.  I played this playlist almost every day because it was so much better than being alone with my thoughts.  I played this playlist every day until today.  Today I put on country–I wonder what made me do that.  Maybe that is a good sign.

 

 

Day 311: March 10th

Today I flew to Texas.  I went to a retreat called Hope Mommies.  Today I was surrounded by other mommies that lost their babies.  Today I walked into a room that had Ella’s name and picture up.  Today I wore a name tag that said “Ella’s mom.”  Today others asked me about Ella.  Today others asked to see her picture.  Today I felt seen.  Today I didn’t feel so far away.   Today I didn’t feel alone.  I hope every mom that has lost a baby has a chance to feel the way I felt today.

 

Day 336: April 4th

We are month away from Ella’s birthday.  I expected that day to be hard.  I did not expect to start having a hard time the month before.  I wonder when she passed away inside me. What day did she go up to heaven to be with Jesus?  That day will go by, and I won’t know it was a special day for her.  I just have May 4th.  The day I gave birth to her.  The day I said goodbye even though she was already gone.

 

Day 366:  May 4th

Today is one year.  One year since my world shattered.  People ask “how I am doing,”  I wish they would ask “how are you doing today?”  Because how I am doing overall is too complicated an answer that I don’t even understand.  Overall, I am better than I was six months ago.  But I am still very much broken.  I am so thankful for the hope of heaven.  I am so thankful I will see Ella again.  That assurance doesn’t take away the pain of living every day on earth without her.  I have come to accept and firmly believe that that pain is ok.  I can rejoice that my baby is in heaven and deeply hurt all in the same breath.  

Today we will celebrate Ella’s life, just the four of us.  It is still overwhelming for my fragile self to be around a lot of people, and today my husband and my girls need all that I can give.  So to give them my best, I have to celebrate Ella with just the three of them.  Our plan is to deliver gifts to the hospital where she was born to celebrate life because life should be celebrated always.  Then we will go drink Starbucks on the beach.  We will look at the waves.  We will look at the ocean–the biggest ocean–and I will take comfort that although the ocean is big, my God is bigger.  Although my pain is big, my God is still bigger.