I've been thinking about Natalie today.
I've been thinking about the day I get to meet her.
My heart already overflowing with the joy of Heaven and seeing Jesus face-to-face...running and wrapping my arms around my daughter...laughing and jumping and crying happy tears...saying "I love you" again and again...singing and dancing for Jesus...singing and dancing together for the Precious One. Glory, Glory!
What a day that will be!
Showing posts with label Natalie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Natalie. Show all posts
Monday, March 28, 2011
Sunday, January 9, 2011
ornaments of beauty
Last post about Christmas, I promise.
Our tree was decorated a little differently this year. When it came time to put on the ornaments, I just wasn't "feeling" my usuals, so I decided that the kids and I would be artsy-crafty and make most of the ornament with Christmas fun/homeschool art projects.
The results were interesting, but not exactly beautiful.
But they were full of lots of beads, and glue, and paint.
(Next year I will have to be a little more focused on creating ornaments that are actually pretty.)
Besides the kids' crafty creations, I did hang up all my "Natalie ornaments" from years past. A week before Christmas I still didn't have this year's, so I went out to Hallmark which very often has the one that is just right. They didn't fail me this year either. I knew I had found the perfect ornament when my eyes welled up after spotting it.
Every life leaves something beautiful behind
I use the word beautiful very often when talking about Natalie. Sometimes I wonder if people understand or think me odd. When I first lost her, I wouldn't have understood. I wouldn't have wanted to understand. In the beginning it was hard to think about how God was going to use a stillbirth in my life. I just wanted my baby.
But my loving Father knew how sad I was, and He saw me cry. And my God is a wise God and a Good Shepherd.
Grief and questions turned to hope and faith. Anxiety turned into peace. Tears slowly wained as I rested, comforted, under the shadow of His wings.
To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion,
to give unto them
beauty for ashes,
the oil of joy for mourning,
the garment of praise
for the spirit of heaviness;
that they might be called
trees of righteousness,
the planting of the LORD,
that he might be glorified.
Isaiah 61:3
It is true, Natalie has left behind much beauty. God's lovingkindness, so clearly and tenderly displayed through His word and through His saints is beautiful. The unity and stronger ties created between Adam and me as we grieved and healed together is beautiful. Knowing I have Jesus who not only walked with me through the valley of the shadow of death, but also brought me back to the land of the living is beautiful. That I can share the joy and hope of Heaven with my three children on earth, and they can understand they have a big sister waiting for them there, is beautiful.
Loss is hard. Life is so short. I think of those of you who had a baby this year that was in Heaven before it ever made it to your arms. I think of those of you who lost a beloved parent or grandparent. Maybe some of you lost a brother or sister. Some may be grieving the death of a spouse or child. There may be some who lost an aunt, an uncle, a cousin, a dear friend; there is sadness in many lives, I'm sure. My hope is that in time, you too will be able to see the beauty left behind.
Our tree was decorated a little differently this year. When it came time to put on the ornaments, I just wasn't "feeling" my usuals, so I decided that the kids and I would be artsy-crafty and make most of the ornament with Christmas fun/homeschool art projects.
The results were interesting, but not exactly beautiful.
But they were full of lots of beads, and glue, and paint.
(Next year I will have to be a little more focused on creating ornaments that are actually pretty.)
Besides the kids' crafty creations, I did hang up all my "Natalie ornaments" from years past. A week before Christmas I still didn't have this year's, so I went out to Hallmark which very often has the one that is just right. They didn't fail me this year either. I knew I had found the perfect ornament when my eyes welled up after spotting it.
Every life leaves something beautiful behind
I use the word beautiful very often when talking about Natalie. Sometimes I wonder if people understand or think me odd. When I first lost her, I wouldn't have understood. I wouldn't have wanted to understand. In the beginning it was hard to think about how God was going to use a stillbirth in my life. I just wanted my baby.
But my loving Father knew how sad I was, and He saw me cry. And my God is a wise God and a Good Shepherd.
Grief and questions turned to hope and faith. Anxiety turned into peace. Tears slowly wained as I rested, comforted, under the shadow of His wings.
To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion,
to give unto them
beauty for ashes,
the oil of joy for mourning,
the garment of praise
for the spirit of heaviness;
that they might be called
trees of righteousness,
the planting of the LORD,
that he might be glorified.
Isaiah 61:3
It is true, Natalie has left behind much beauty. God's lovingkindness, so clearly and tenderly displayed through His word and through His saints is beautiful. The unity and stronger ties created between Adam and me as we grieved and healed together is beautiful. Knowing I have Jesus who not only walked with me through the valley of the shadow of death, but also brought me back to the land of the living is beautiful. That I can share the joy and hope of Heaven with my three children on earth, and they can understand they have a big sister waiting for them there, is beautiful.
Loss is hard. Life is so short. I think of those of you who had a baby this year that was in Heaven before it ever made it to your arms. I think of those of you who lost a beloved parent or grandparent. Maybe some of you lost a brother or sister. Some may be grieving the death of a spouse or child. There may be some who lost an aunt, an uncle, a cousin, a dear friend; there is sadness in many lives, I'm sure. My hope is that in time, you too will be able to see the beauty left behind.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
About Bear
Joey and Bear, March 2008
a conversation between Joey and me last week
a conversation between Joey and me last week
"Did I ever tell you who gave Bear to Mommy...how you got him?"
"No."
I know I have, but I tell the story again.
"Aunt Donna gave Bear to Mommy for Natalie, when Natalie was still in my belly, at a special party called a baby shower."
"Oh."
"But then Natalie went to heaven...and Mommy and Daddy were so sad. And we prayed and prayed for God to give us a new baby in my belly, because we missed Natalie so much. And we really hoped we could have a baby that could stay with us, and not go to Heaven so soon."
He looks at me with wide, concerned eyes.
"And then God answered our prayers, and gave Mommy a new baby in her belly."
"That baby was me?"
"Yes, God answered our prayers - you were the answer to our prayers! You were the baby Mommy prayed for. We were so happy!...And then, Mommy let you have Bear, because I didn't think Natalie would mind if I shared her things with you since she was in Heaven."
He pulls Bear in close.
"And now Bear is your very favorite, special friend!"
He hugs Bear tightly, and buries his face in the back of Bear's head.
"I am so glad Jesus gave you to me. I love you so much. I am so glad you are able to love Bear."
"Me too."
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
six years
Today is Natalie's birthday. She would be a big six-year-old girl.
Stillbirth, six years later. Part of it seems so far away, and yet, I can still remember it like it happened just last week.
The pain of the broken heart is gone. God has healed my heart. I praise Him for the work He has done. On a daily basis my life is no longer affected by the grief of losing her. There are still lessons I learn as a result of losing her, and I still miss her and love her. But God has moved me into the land of the living, and what a grand life it is.
But although that pain is removed, if I remember her, really think about her and relive some of the moments from the time she was alive in my belly, to the moments we shared after she was born, her soul already in heaven, there is sadness and tears. The pain is removed, but the sadness remains.
Natalie's death was a big loss, unexpected and unexplained. The time I had holding and loving her was too short and too sad. While I rejoice in the gracious fact that God has healed my heart, I am glad He doesn't erase away my memory of her. Besides a few photos and keepsakes, my memories are what I have left of her.
Just last week I was in the shower, and I began to think of her. I was thinking about what she wore when she was buried. My sister went out and bought her a beautiful preemie dress, lavender with smocking on the top, and a matching bonnet. It was a beautiful dress. I wish I had bought a second, so I could have my own to remember what a pretty girl she was in her first dress. And then I thought about the only outfit I ever put on her. Adam and I struggled to get her little body into a gown sleeper. It was awkward and difficult, but I am glad I had that mommy moment with her. But as I thought on these things in the shower, I began to cry. Really weep.
The tears didn't last, and my sadness lifted, and I went forward with my day.
As I reflect on this reality of my life, I see the sadness not as some sort of cross to bear or a burden to carry. It is my life. It is just a part of who I am. I am a child of God, who has been allowed by the Creator of the universe to have a stillbirth. There is sadness attached to this reality. The burden of grief was a terrible weight and trial, but my life now is not terrible. Natalie's death is no longer a temptation to question the wisdom or love of my God. Natalie's death is just a truth, a part of my history and a big chapter in the story of my life.
Six years ago, I was reeling with the new reality I faced, wondering how I could have lost her, wondering what I did wrong, wondering if I would ever have a baby who lived. Six years ago I was the mother of a stillborn daughter. Today I am still the mother of a stillborn daughter. I am also the mother of an incredible son and daughter, and a little one growing in my womb. My life is the whole package, all four of these children: in heaven, in arms, and in my belly. It is a wonderful life. I can testify that God is faithful, that He never leaves me or forsakes me. I can tell you of a broken heart healed. I can tell you of my precious gifts, Joey and Kate. I can tell you that the scar of sadness that remains is part of me, and I am okay with that. Jesus loves me and cares for me. He didn't make any mistakes.
Happy sixth birthday, Natalie! I hope today is an extra special day of singing for Jesus. I miss you, and I love you forever!
...I have trusted in thy mercy;
my heart shall rejoice in thy salvation.
I will sing unto the LORD, because
he hath dealt bountifully with me.
Psalm 13:5,6
Stillbirth, six years later. Part of it seems so far away, and yet, I can still remember it like it happened just last week.
The pain of the broken heart is gone. God has healed my heart. I praise Him for the work He has done. On a daily basis my life is no longer affected by the grief of losing her. There are still lessons I learn as a result of losing her, and I still miss her and love her. But God has moved me into the land of the living, and what a grand life it is.
But although that pain is removed, if I remember her, really think about her and relive some of the moments from the time she was alive in my belly, to the moments we shared after she was born, her soul already in heaven, there is sadness and tears. The pain is removed, but the sadness remains.
Natalie's death was a big loss, unexpected and unexplained. The time I had holding and loving her was too short and too sad. While I rejoice in the gracious fact that God has healed my heart, I am glad He doesn't erase away my memory of her. Besides a few photos and keepsakes, my memories are what I have left of her.
Just last week I was in the shower, and I began to think of her. I was thinking about what she wore when she was buried. My sister went out and bought her a beautiful preemie dress, lavender with smocking on the top, and a matching bonnet. It was a beautiful dress. I wish I had bought a second, so I could have my own to remember what a pretty girl she was in her first dress. And then I thought about the only outfit I ever put on her. Adam and I struggled to get her little body into a gown sleeper. It was awkward and difficult, but I am glad I had that mommy moment with her. But as I thought on these things in the shower, I began to cry. Really weep.
The tears didn't last, and my sadness lifted, and I went forward with my day.
As I reflect on this reality of my life, I see the sadness not as some sort of cross to bear or a burden to carry. It is my life. It is just a part of who I am. I am a child of God, who has been allowed by the Creator of the universe to have a stillbirth. There is sadness attached to this reality. The burden of grief was a terrible weight and trial, but my life now is not terrible. Natalie's death is no longer a temptation to question the wisdom or love of my God. Natalie's death is just a truth, a part of my history and a big chapter in the story of my life.
Six years ago, I was reeling with the new reality I faced, wondering how I could have lost her, wondering what I did wrong, wondering if I would ever have a baby who lived. Six years ago I was the mother of a stillborn daughter. Today I am still the mother of a stillborn daughter. I am also the mother of an incredible son and daughter, and a little one growing in my womb. My life is the whole package, all four of these children: in heaven, in arms, and in my belly. It is a wonderful life. I can testify that God is faithful, that He never leaves me or forsakes me. I can tell you of a broken heart healed. I can tell you of my precious gifts, Joey and Kate. I can tell you that the scar of sadness that remains is part of me, and I am okay with that. Jesus loves me and cares for me. He didn't make any mistakes.
Happy sixth birthday, Natalie! I hope today is an extra special day of singing for Jesus. I miss you, and I love you forever!
...I have trusted in thy mercy;
my heart shall rejoice in thy salvation.
I will sing unto the LORD, because
he hath dealt bountifully with me.
Psalm 13:5,6
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Hearts healed
He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds.
Psalm 147:3
This verse has been coming to my mind quite often lately. These words were used to comfort my son, as well as my six and eight-year-old nephews last week when they were saying their last good-byes to their great-grandma, or "GG". I reminded them that God keeps His promises, and GG will be in Heaven, and that God promises to heal our broken hearts - so even though we feel very sad right now, we won't feel this sad forever. God will heal our broken hearts.
God used the verse to comfort me as I was facing a different trial last week. I was feeling trapped in my discouragement, but God reminded me that He will bind me up, and that I had no reason to feel hopeless.
Last night, God put this verse in my mind as I was able to encourage a friend who was surprised when a hurt from her past came back in her face. If God can heal our broken hearts and bind our wounds, than He can heal all wounds -- even old scars that get scratched and irritated.
The key to receiving this healing is letting Him heal it. It is kind of like when Joey gets a splinter and the dreaded tweezers come out. He fights and fights against me, and the splinter remains. It continues to hurt. When he finally lets me pull it out, it feels better, and the pain is gone.
One of the reasons I love this verse so much is because God used it in a significant way when I was grieving the death of Natalie. I was hurting so badly. The grief was surprising, and terrible, and my heart was broken. I wanted healing. I wanted to feel better. I wanted the horrible pain to just go away.
I would get frustrated when Adam couldn't take the pain away. I would read books about stillbirth, but my pain remained. I would talk about her, talk about the grief, and I still was wounded, and I couldn't fix it. One evening, I read this verse, and the message was so clear, it was almost like the page was speaking. I realized that only God would heal my broken heart. Only God could bind up my wounds, and only God is able take my pain away. I understood that night that I had to trust God to take my pain away, and have faith that he would keep His promise and bind up all the wounds of grief in my life.
A friend stopped in later that night, and she probably thought I was crazy as I excitedly told her about this verse, and how I knew that only God would heal me. It seems so obvious, but I needed to claim His healing for myself. It was like I had found a secret cure, and was telling her all about it.
In reality, the cure was always there. God wants us to heal. He wants to bind us up, but we have to let Him.
God did heal my broken heart. The loss of Natalie was so sad. God was faithful, and replaced the sadness with hope and the joy of new life when my son and daughter were born, alive and healthy. There is a scar, and from time to time my heart does heart, but God is so good to me. He loves me and cares for me, and tends to my pain when it resurfaces. What is beautiful is that all the praise and glory goes to Him.
He is the healer of my heart.
He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds.
Psalm 147:3
Psalm 147:3
This verse has been coming to my mind quite often lately. These words were used to comfort my son, as well as my six and eight-year-old nephews last week when they were saying their last good-byes to their great-grandma, or "GG". I reminded them that God keeps His promises, and GG will be in Heaven, and that God promises to heal our broken hearts - so even though we feel very sad right now, we won't feel this sad forever. God will heal our broken hearts.
God used the verse to comfort me as I was facing a different trial last week. I was feeling trapped in my discouragement, but God reminded me that He will bind me up, and that I had no reason to feel hopeless.
Last night, God put this verse in my mind as I was able to encourage a friend who was surprised when a hurt from her past came back in her face. If God can heal our broken hearts and bind our wounds, than He can heal all wounds -- even old scars that get scratched and irritated.
The key to receiving this healing is letting Him heal it. It is kind of like when Joey gets a splinter and the dreaded tweezers come out. He fights and fights against me, and the splinter remains. It continues to hurt. When he finally lets me pull it out, it feels better, and the pain is gone.
One of the reasons I love this verse so much is because God used it in a significant way when I was grieving the death of Natalie. I was hurting so badly. The grief was surprising, and terrible, and my heart was broken. I wanted healing. I wanted to feel better. I wanted the horrible pain to just go away.
I would get frustrated when Adam couldn't take the pain away. I would read books about stillbirth, but my pain remained. I would talk about her, talk about the grief, and I still was wounded, and I couldn't fix it. One evening, I read this verse, and the message was so clear, it was almost like the page was speaking. I realized that only God would heal my broken heart. Only God could bind up my wounds, and only God is able take my pain away. I understood that night that I had to trust God to take my pain away, and have faith that he would keep His promise and bind up all the wounds of grief in my life.
A friend stopped in later that night, and she probably thought I was crazy as I excitedly told her about this verse, and how I knew that only God would heal me. It seems so obvious, but I needed to claim His healing for myself. It was like I had found a secret cure, and was telling her all about it.
In reality, the cure was always there. God wants us to heal. He wants to bind us up, but we have to let Him.
God did heal my broken heart. The loss of Natalie was so sad. God was faithful, and replaced the sadness with hope and the joy of new life when my son and daughter were born, alive and healthy. There is a scar, and from time to time my heart does heart, but God is so good to me. He loves me and cares for me, and tends to my pain when it resurfaces. What is beautiful is that all the praise and glory goes to Him.
He is the healer of my heart.
He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds.
Psalm 147:3
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Daddy love
As the children grow a little bit older and need their mommy a little bit less, it is a joy to see them fall in love with their daddy and to see their daddy loving them. A few evenings ago, I couldn't help but smile, as I heard the words of llama llama red pajama coming from Joey's bedroom as Adam was getting both kids ready for bed.
If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him?
On New Year's day, Adam gave Joey a great day by building a fire together in the empty lot next to ours. As they sat by the fire, enjoying each other's company and conversation, I wished I could be an invisible and silent guest, so to hear Joey's heart as he only shares it with his daddy.
One evening in December, we had Christmas music playing, which Katie interprets as the sign to find some willing arms to pick her up and twirl around the living room. Katie found Adam that evening, and I watched with delight as she squealed and giggled in her daddy's arms, while he spun her about. I saw the smile on his face, the smile a child's laughter brings - pure joy. I could have watched that father-daughter dance forever. And I wished it was a moment I could have had with my Natalie. I wished I could have seen how much my five-year-old girl would be giggling and squealing as she danced with her daddy to a Christmas tune. I wished I could know how much she was going to completely fill up her daddy's heart.
These thoughts were on my mind as I went shopping for my Natalie ornament this year. You see, one little tradition I have to remember Natalie is to purchase an ornament every Christmas that makes me think of her. Every year as we decorate the tree and I pull out her ornaments from years past, and add this year's ornament to the tree, I have a way to "include" her in our Christmas activities. So as I stood in Hallmark, looking over this year's selection of Keepsake ornaments, I couldn't have been more pleased to find this one.
It is titled Dancing with Dad, and it is perfect, don't you think?
Daddy love -- it's a wonderful thing.
If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him?
Matthew 7:11
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Holding tight
I am so happy I have my daughter. I am so happy I have my Joey too, but I have always had a desire for a daughter and am so pleased the Lord gave me this crazy, quirky girl named Katie. I love to hold her, and she loves to be held. Since she was just a little thing, she has given me "monkey hugs", where she hugs not just with her arms, but with her legs as well, all curled around me tight.
At night, when I rock her before I lay her down, is my favorite time. Chest to chest we rock together, her head on my shoulder, my hair between her fingers. She is relaxed, and so am I. There are no distractions or annoyances. I just rock, and hold, and enjoy her. Sometimes, in these moments of enjoying my Katie, I miss my Natalie.
My mind has played through all the moments and milestones - first steps, first words, pretty dresses and pigtails - that I will never enjoy with Natalie. After I got pregnant with Joey, I feared it would be difficult to not constantly compare my child in my arms with my child in Heaven. Surprisingly, that has never been my reality. The Lord has blessed me with the ability to enjoy my children, without comparison. I miss Natalie, and I always will, but it never interferes with the pleasure and joy I experience as I see each day unfold for the two I have with me.
Though from time to time, holding my little girl does make me long to hold my Natalie again. Holding Natalie was all I was able to really do in our time together. But I wish I could have held her longer; letting her go was the hardest thing I ever had to do. Some nights I hold Katie and the prayer escapes my heart, Lord, please don't take this one too. But every time I pray that prayer, I hear a gentle whisper telling me she is not my own.
She is yours, Lord.
So I hold my daughter in my arms. I rock her to sleep and love every second of it. I can never hold Natalie again on this earth; I can savor each embrace with Katie. I hold on tight. And I will trust my Lord if I ever have to let go.
At night, when I rock her before I lay her down, is my favorite time. Chest to chest we rock together, her head on my shoulder, my hair between her fingers. She is relaxed, and so am I. There are no distractions or annoyances. I just rock, and hold, and enjoy her. Sometimes, in these moments of enjoying my Katie, I miss my Natalie.
My mind has played through all the moments and milestones - first steps, first words, pretty dresses and pigtails - that I will never enjoy with Natalie. After I got pregnant with Joey, I feared it would be difficult to not constantly compare my child in my arms with my child in Heaven. Surprisingly, that has never been my reality. The Lord has blessed me with the ability to enjoy my children, without comparison. I miss Natalie, and I always will, but it never interferes with the pleasure and joy I experience as I see each day unfold for the two I have with me.
Though from time to time, holding my little girl does make me long to hold my Natalie again. Holding Natalie was all I was able to really do in our time together. But I wish I could have held her longer; letting her go was the hardest thing I ever had to do. Some nights I hold Katie and the prayer escapes my heart, Lord, please don't take this one too. But every time I pray that prayer, I hear a gentle whisper telling me she is not my own.
She is yours, Lord.
So I hold my daughter in my arms. I rock her to sleep and love every second of it. I can never hold Natalie again on this earth; I can savor each embrace with Katie. I hold on tight. And I will trust my Lord if I ever have to let go.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Hesitancy
One of the reasons I wanted to start a blog was to have a place where I could talk about Natalie if I wanted. There are just a handful of people in my life with whom I can freely discuss her without being nervous that I am making them feel awkward. And even if the conversation wouldn't make them feel awkward, sometimes I feel like stillbirth and the following grief and memories aren't always the most delightful conversation topics.
As I begin to think of posting about her I am hesitant. I love her so much, and it is hard to understand how I will communicate what a beautiful part of my life she is. However, one of the hurts of stillbirth is that your child is gone from the minds of many long before you are ready to be done thinking, remembering, and speaking of her.
By posting about her here, I am allowing complete strangers to read about her, and my fear is that it would seem as though I am trying to garner an emotional response to gain readership. Please know that would never be the case; a post about Natalie or my grief over losing her is just another post about one of my children - me sharing what is going on in my life.
So I will post about her from time to time. It will be a change of pace from my usual, silly stuff. You can choose to read or not read, and I like that. If you are a reader who is also my friend, I consider it an honor to share more of her with you. If you do not know me personally, I hope I will be able to convey the scope of the work God did and continues to do in my life by allowing my daughter to be born in Heaven five years ago.
As I begin to think of posting about her I am hesitant. I love her so much, and it is hard to understand how I will communicate what a beautiful part of my life she is. However, one of the hurts of stillbirth is that your child is gone from the minds of many long before you are ready to be done thinking, remembering, and speaking of her.
By posting about her here, I am allowing complete strangers to read about her, and my fear is that it would seem as though I am trying to garner an emotional response to gain readership. Please know that would never be the case; a post about Natalie or my grief over losing her is just another post about one of my children - me sharing what is going on in my life.
So I will post about her from time to time. It will be a change of pace from my usual, silly stuff. You can choose to read or not read, and I like that. If you are a reader who is also my friend, I consider it an honor to share more of her with you. If you do not know me personally, I hope I will be able to convey the scope of the work God did and continues to do in my life by allowing my daughter to be born in Heaven five years ago.
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