26 Weeks and Counting...

Here I am at 26 weeks pregnant. Starting to really feel the pounds! (LOL)  The Lord has truly blessed me.

~Jenny~

The Sea Of Grief

Walking With You was created to help support those who have lost a child. Together we share our stories, helpful information, scriptures, encouraging words, prayer requests, and more. This week we are talking about the early days of grief. Click on the button in my sidebar, "Walking With You," to get more information.

The Beginning Of My Journey

When I first got home from the hospital, I was so weak, I sat on my couch as soon as I walked through the door. It only took a few minutes for me to realize that I had sat in that same spot waiting for the ambulance to get to my house a few nights prior to this great loss. That was the last spot in my home that I would hold my little boy... in mommy's tummy. I lost it. How in the world was I going to go on in life?

That first night at home, my husband helped me get the boys to bed, and then he crashed out on the couch about fifteen minutes later. I remember standing at the end of my bed looking out my window. I had to figure a way to change what happened. I started going through everything in my head, and figure out a way to save Isaiah's life.  I came so close to calling my doctor at her house and letting her know how we can "change" what happened. I had only been a CRAZY WOMAN that first night. I told my mom about it the next day. I look back, and realize that I should not have been alone that first night home. 

After a few days of being home, I started to pack up all of my maternity clothes. I couldn't stand looking at them! I would have done it sooner, but I couldn't barely stand. Let me remind you, I almost bleed to death, and had around sixteen units of blood given to me. It was a miracle that I was still alive, and I'm at home packing a garbage bag full of clothes. That's how much I didn't want to see them.  

I had to be very careful around my children for a long time. I don't know how many times a day that I would go and lock myself in my bathroom and cry. I didn't wank my boys to see me crying all of the time. There were many times that I just couldn't hold it back, and they still would see me crying. Doing the dishes, laundry, driving in the car, etc.

A lot of people would ask me how I was doing. I would just say fine. I think if I replied, " I just want to die sometimes," I probably would have had a lot more attention than I wanted. I didn't want to talk to anyone. Unless, they had buried a child. There were two women at the time that I knew had shared in the same loss. I felt "normal" around them. I walked with one of them at the cemetery a couple months after loosing Isaiah. (Thank you Julie.) It was a blessing to just walk and talk with someone that was just like me. So much changes in your life, you become a "new" person. I was able to share my feelings, without being told that Isaiah was in heaven and happy. I already knew where Isaiah was. I didn't need to have it repeated over and over again. I needed to have someone just listen, and not say anything.

To end my post on early grief, I would just say, please don't tell me your sorry that I loss my baby. If you lost a child who was of an older age, I wouldn't say, "I'm sorry that you loss your teenager."  You would have loss your son/daughter.  I loss my son. A little boy that would have ran around with his brother's, rode bikes, ate pizza, played baseball, needed his boo boos to be kissed, blew out birthday candles, opened Christmas presents, went to his first day of Kindergarten, and would have run up to me and wrapped his arms around my legs saying, " I love you mommy." The loss is endless.

~Jenny~

Struggling

I awoke from my sleep this morning, crying for my son. His birthday is soon approaching. One year. How can it be one year already? I feel like it's only been a few months. A part of my life just stopped... after his heart stopped. A part of mine stopped beating also.

I walk around hiding my heart from the majority of people. They were there in the beginning, then they just went about their life like nothing ever happened. Like I just lost a leg or an arm, and I'm learning to deal with it. I lost a piece of my heart. My son. If these people could just imagine for one moment what it would be like to put their child into the ground, they sure would have a lot more empathy towards a bereaved parent. 

Above is a picture of Isaiah's little dog slippers. I never got to put his tiny toes into these warm slippers. I'm feeling empty lately.... just like those slippers.

I love you sweet Isaiah.

~Jenny~

~ Naming Our Babies ~

It's Thursday once again, and we are walking together with hope. This week, we are sharing how we chose the names for our babies and any special meaning behind them.

~ Isaiah Christopher Ross ~

This name is so special to me. It represents love. It represents a little boy I call, son. 

Isaiah: God is my salvation.  

Christopher: Christ-bearer. 

When my husband and I chose this name for our son, we wanted it to be from the bible. We picked this name before we found out that we were going to have a little boy. (I like to have the names picked before we find out what we are having.) Isaiah's middle name is after his daddy. So that is something special that my husband shares with his son.

It's not till after he passed, that I realized what a special name he was given. God knew what he would be called, and gave us the wisdom to do so. I had been given a certain peace, when God revealed to me, the meaning behind, Isaiah... God is my salvation. When I read that soon after his passing, I felt so much purpose for Isaiah's life. He was planned to be with us for a very short season. I include my pregnancy in that time frame. He was alive. Before I could feel him moving inside me, I could feel his spirit. I had 19.5 weeks with him. Not just the fifteen minutes I was blessed with his warm body in my arms. 

God, is Isaiah's salvation. I know he is with our Lord. Worshiping and praising the One who created him. I look foward to the day, when the Lord calls my name, and I will be holding my son once again, for eternity. 

I only have a few people in my life that will mention Isaiah's name. When Isaiah is talked about, it's primarily on my blog. It hurts me that people are to scared to talk about him. They are afraid that I will hurt, if his name is spoken. I hurt no matter what. I hurt when I awake in the morning, through the day, and when I stare at my clock while falling asleep. I guess it's just one of those things that people won't ever understand, unless they have "walked in your shoes." 

Please mention my son's name. He is so special and loved by his family. He was here. He didn't get to jump around and play with his brother's, but he did in his mommy's belly. I didn't get to rock him to sleep while he sucked his thumb, but he did in his mommy's belly. He was my gentle spirited boy. My Isaiah Christopher.

~ Jenny ~ 

A Precious Goodbye

             Started on earth as a bud... taken to Heaven to bloom.

We contiue on our journey walking together. We are walking through our funerals/memorials. If you are unfamiliar with this walk, click on the "Walking With You" button on the side of my blog.

Psalm 126: 5

They that sow in tears shall reap in joy.

~A Precious Goodbye~

August 3, 2008....... with his last heartbeat....... said goodbye to Isaiah in my arms.

August 8, 2008....... went to cemetery....... said goodbye to Isaiah in his final resting place.

I remember getting my black and white dress on, and the rest of the family got dressed appropriately. I took six white roses out of the dozen that I received at the hospital (I have the other six), a new black bible, a picture of me holding Isaiah....which I placed in that bible.... in Nahum 1:7.

My husband drove us up to the cemetery. It was a very quiet drive. I have always been afraid of cemeteries, so I didn't know what to expect. (The cemetery doesn't bother me anymore) When we pulled in, we had to follow a bunch of signs that directed us to Isaiah's grave. I was trying to plot out the drive in my head, so I would know how to get to him in the future.

Writing this out is so hard! I can't keep in the tears. I just got a flashback of being in the van, and seeing the black vehicle parked on the grass where he was. I think that I have made myself numb to all of this, so I don't hurt like this every single day. It's survival. I think that you would just die from your heart being broken into pieces. You can't find the pieces... there waiting for you in heaven.

Back to the burial... I remember walking up to the "spot." Isaiah's tiny casket was placed on a special little table, and the burial hole was covered up with a green covering. My heart just stopped when I saw the casket. I just wanted to grab it and take him home with me. I just couldn't believe that this was happening. Why me? How was I going to have my child be put in a cold dark hole? Why me?

We stood their in silence, waiting for our family to get there. Our pastor did a beautiful job speaking. It was put together with so much love and truth. 

When he was done speaking, my mother- in- law placed a beautiful bracelet on me that she had made. My dad placed a tiny flower bud in my hand, to represent Isaiah being a precious fragile boy. I still have that flower bud.

When everybody had hugged and said goodbye to me, I just stood there. I couldn't walk away. My husband took the kids to the car, so that I could have a moment. I knelt down and rubbed his casket. Then I gave it a gentle kiss. I knew that my kiss would be on it forever.... with Isaiah in that hole forever.... I would have my love buried with him.

I told the funeral director that I wanted to be there when he was placed inside his "home."  I had to make sure that he was placed with respect and gentleness. He respected my wishes, and gently placed him inside. He then took the bible and placed it on top. I handed him the roses to be placed on the bible. I couldn't leave until I knew that everything was perfect. It was, so I didn't have any other reason to stay. I ran out of reasons to stay. I had to walk away. I felt so empty. I felt so angry. I felt so sad. I had to say goodbye to a little boy that I never got to do anything with. It was brutal!

The man that was going to bury him was standing over by a tree. 

I got in the van, and sat there, driving away from my son. Why me? 

August 11, 2008....... went to memorial....... said goodbye with friends and family.

I didn't have a eulogy to put together for Isaiah's memorial. What are you supposed to say on a life that was lived for fifteen minutes? Well I'll tell you what, after the 23rd Psalm was read, I got up in front of all of those people and began to weep. I spoke of his beautiful fifteen minutes of life. I told of how special and perfect he was. I read a poem that I had found on the internet. Then I went back to my seat. 

The pastor did a beautiful speech once again. We had three touching songs played. Songs that were of hope and the love of our Lord. It was absolutely beautiful. Extremely sad, but perfect.

Why me? Why any of you? I don't have the answers. Our Lord does. He will show us little things along the way. The full picture will be revealed in heaven. At His feet, we will receive our rewards. Until that day, we must all stand together, carry one another, and press on. The hard days are going to come, and they are also going to go. We must hang onto our faith. Our redeemer lives. He holds us. He cries with us.....

Psalm 126:6

He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him.

~Jenny~

                                           

Meeting Our Babies

This week, we walk this journey together, with the birth and meeting of our child(ren). Please walk with us.... join us in this walk, if you have had to say goodbye way to soon.

(This was not an easy post to do. Very emotional. I am thankful that we are having this walk together. There is so much healing that is needed. I feel it will take a lifetime.)

~Meeting Isaiah~

After a few hours of hard labor and five minutes of pushing.... my sweet little Isaiah was placed in my arms. I couldn't believe how small he was. He was absolutely perfect, in every way. Just to weak to survive so young. 

Fifteen minutes. That's all I was given. I did not waist one second. I rubbed the inside of his tiny hand with my finger. I kept telling him, " I love you Isaiah Christopher Ross." I gently swept my hand down the side of his head. 

HE WAS PRECIOUS.

God had created such a miracle.

The nurse checked to see if his heart was beating about every five minutes. 

We had him baptized with oil, before passing.

After his last heart beat... he was taken from me.

The doctor had to focus on how critical my health was becoming.

I couldn't push the placenta out. So I was taken to surgery immediately. I was out for an hour and a half. It was supposed to have only taken ten minutes. The placenta had also grown into my uterus, making things even worse than before. I had been given more transfusions of blood during the surgery also. My doctor said that she has never had to give anyone that much blood before! (She told me that at my six week check-up)

After surgery, I was put in ICU for the night. 

The next couple of days, I had a chance to hold Isaiah and have pictures taken. I felt a certain kind of peace when he was with me. Even though he wasn't alive, I still felt complete, because he was with me. I was able to protect him. I was able to mother my child...

I will NEVER forget saying goodbye. The nurse, funeral director and myself, took Isaiah to a room in the NICU. He lied there in a baby basket, wrapped in soft blankets. I asked to be alone for a few minutes. I kissed him, told him how much I loved him, and began to walk away. Then I would turn around, and go back to the basket and do it all again. I did this about five times. The only word to describe how I felt at that moment.... torn. You don't leave your children in the store, and walk away. You don't take them to the doctor, only to drive away without them. How do you say goodbye?? FOREVER..... until heaven welcomes you. 

I was checked out of the hospital shortly after saying my final goodbye. I got wheeled out, with a swollen belly and empty arms. My son got to leave in a box with a stranger. 

The journey continues...

~Jennifer~