www.WhitneyJill.com
Thanks for visting and remembering our daughter with us.
If you're new here, you might want to start at
The Beginning.  

Magic Tums?

My heart hurts.  I wish they made some kind of magic Tums... you know, instead of curing heart burn it helps with the heart break.  Hmmm... no such luck.  It goes deeper than that.  Lately I've been really sad over all that we've lost.  I don't really know all the "official" stages of grief (and who was authorized to canonize those anyways?) but it feels like this is a new one.  I've been mad that this happened to us, but got over that pretty quick.  I'm not big on self-pity.  It always results in wasted days and a serious need for a shower.  I've felt resentment-- why is her baby healthy and not mine?  Still have that a lot.  But you would, too if you saw half the things I see in a day.  I've felt peace.  Ironically, I do feel this a lot.  It comes in waves, like everything else, but just like there's always the underlying "suck" there's (almost) always the underlying peace... the assurance we will see Whitney again and get to love on her forever.  

But today I'm just really feeling the loss.  Of course I feel the loss of our baby in my arms, but there's so much more than just that.  I've lost the innocence and joy that comes with a pregnancy.  I read my friends' blogs about how they are expecting a baby and marvel at the innocence with which they are preparing for their baby.  I will never have that again.  I don't know if I will ever be able to prepare a nursery before we actually have our baby at home with us.  I don't know if I will ever be able to really enjoy making a baby registry or opening gifts at a baby shower... that "what if" will always be there.  If we are able to get pregnant again, my eyes have been opened.  I know just how incredibly much can go wrong.  I know how often good, deserving people experience unthinkable loss.  But most of all, I now know that it can happen to me.  Because it did.  It has happened.  It is happening.  

But I think what is more scary than being scared for a whole pregnancy is the thought that I may never have that again.  In that light, I would gladly accept the weeks and months of trepidation if I knew that it would mean I could soon hold my healthy, breathing baby in my arms.  But of course, there are no guarantees.  One thing I've learned is that there are no guarantees in life... and like my mom always said, life isn't fair.  Sometimes that works in our favor, and sometimes it doesn't.  We don't always get what we deserve, and sometimes, we are given that which we are undeserving of.  That's life.  And you know what?  Crazy as it sounds, I'm ok with that.  I'm learning to accept that life just isn't fair.  I've made myself crazy in the past mulling over how 'fair' or 'unfair' something is.  I know that in the end, it all comes down to this:  God's glory, greatness and goodness.  It surpasses all.  So even if I never get pregnant again, I am forever thankful for Whitney. No one will ever replace her in my heart and I am so blessed to be her mom.  And if I ever am blessed to be pregnant again, am I sad that I have lost my 'pregnancy innocence'?  Of course I am.  I envy those who walk through their nine(ten) months of pregnancy on cloud 9 without a thunderhead in sight.  But I also know that I will have a whole 'nother level of appreciation for that experience.  Morning sickness?  yes, please.  It would mean my baby is growing right... I had NO morning sickness with Whitney.  Outgrowing clothes faster than Kirstie Ally?  Yes, please!  I really didn't need maternity clothes with Whitney at all.  Shortness of breath?  Aching back?  Sleepless nights?  Billions of bathroom breaks?  Bring it on, please God, bring it on some day!

I don't really know how to get past grieving something that isn't even tangible.  Its very odd.  But I just hold to the truth that this, too shall pass.  And we will continue to speak of God's goodness, of His glory, and of His infinite greatness.  

 

 

 ¹ Praise the LORD.
       Praise the LORD, O my soul.

 ² I will praise the LORD all my life; 
       I will sing praise to my God as long as I live.

 ³ Do not put your trust in princes, 
       in mortal men, who cannot save.

 ⁴ When their spirit departs, they return to the ground; 
       on that very day their plans come to nothing.

 ⁵ Blessed is he whose help is the God of Jacob, 
       whose hope is in the LORD his God,

 ⁶ the Maker of heaven and earth, 
       the sea, and everything in them— 
       the LORD, who remains faithful forever.

 ⁷ He upholds the cause of the oppressed 
       and gives food to the hungry. 
       The LORD sets prisoners free,

 ⁸ the LORD gives sight to the blind, 
       the LORD lifts up those who are bowed down, 
       the LORD loves the righteous.

 ⁹ The LORD watches over the alien 
       and sustains the fatherless and the widow, 
       but he frustrates the ways of the wicked.

 ¹⁰ The LORD reigns forever, 
       your God, O Zion, for all generations. 
       Praise the LORD.

Psalm 146

A Dad's Grief

Yes, this is Sheyenne writing a post about a Dad's grief... why, you may ask?  Its not becuase I know how it feels to be a grieving father, but I am learning what its like to be a grieving mother alongside that father.  Many people told us that men and women grieve differently and that we should allow each other to grieve in our own way.  I cannot speak for what my husband feels, but I can tell you what an amazing rock he is for me.  While I was pregnant, he was quick to do whatever I needed, before I even lifted a finger to do it for myself.  He made late-night trips to the store for must-have cravings and the can't-sleep-without-them, Tums.  I honestly expected that to stop once I was no longer pregnant... but it hasn't.  He is still just as sweet, caring and lovingly attentive as he was 3 months ago.  I love him so much.  He lets me cry my eyes out when I need to; he brings me box after box of Kleenex, all while just holding me.  I know he wants to make it all better and it kills him to see me so upset.     

But I know he is upset too.  He is dealing with the loss of a daughter.  He is comforting me even through his loss.  Yes, losing Whitney is a loss to us as a family, but its also a loss to us as individuals.  He is losing Daddy-Daughter dances, intimidating dates on Prom night, teaching her how to drive and walking her down the aisle.  

Why am I writing all of this?  Basically just to brag on my baby-daddy... to tell you all how awesome he is.  And how much I love him.  And what a great daddy he is to Whitney and how incredible he is as my husband.  People always ask how I am doing, but not many ask how he is doing.  I came across this poem that I think is really good and just thought I'd share...

A Dad's Grief

It must be very difficult
to be a man in grief
since men don't cry and men are strong
no tears can bring relief.

It must be very difficult
to stand up to the test
and take the calls and visitors
so she can get some rest

They always ask if she's all right
and what she's going through
but seldom take his hand and ask
"My friend, but how are you?"

He hears her crying in the night
and thinks his heart will break
he dries her tears and comforts her
but stays strong for her sake

It must be very difficult to start each day anew
and try to be so very brave
He lost his baby too.
-Author Unknown

I Prayed for This Child

"I prayed for this child, and the LORD has granted me what I asked of him. So now I give him to the LORD. For his whole life he will be given over the the LORD." 
 1 Samuel 1:27-28

I hear and see this verse a lot... often in birth announcements or written on the wall of a nursery... "for this child I prayed."  After seeing this on a friend's blog, I looked up the verse in my Bible.  I'm always curious what comes before and after so many of the verese we quote in popular phrases.  Though I'm sure at some point in my Bible college career I knew this full story, but this day, I had forgotten.  I read back to the beginning of 1 Samuel.  It says in verse 5, "the Lord had closed her womb."  For years (we don't know how long), Hannah prayed that God would bless her with a child.  But she went one step further... if He would grant her this one request, she would then give that child back to the Lord.

I can relate to Hannah.  For years, I prayed that God would give us a child.  I prayed, begged, and pleaded to God that He would allow Sean and I to hold His creation of love in our arms.  And like Hannah, I promised God that if he would just grant us a child, I would do all I could to bring him or her up in the ways of the Lord.  Like Hannah, God granted our request.  He blessed us with a child.  I was blessed to get the chance to tell my husband I was pregnant.  I was blessed to feel our daughter move inside of me-- Sean even got to feel her move a couple of times!  I am blessed with the title, "Mommy" and my husband with the title, "Daddy."  

But unlike Hannah, my choice in giving her over to the Lord came long before I held her in my arms.  That choice came on the fateful day of our "half way" ultrasound.  The day we found out something was wrong.  As our doctors advised us and reminded us time and time again to terminate, we were faced with the decision... in whose hands would we place our daughter?  To whom would we dedicate her short but precious life?  

What's In A Name?

Two posts in one day after a week-long absence?  Woo hoo.  :-)

Quite a few of the baby loss blogs I've read have something called a 'name gallery.'  Before Whitney was born, I really didn't get it.  Its basically pictures taken by friends/family/blog readers of their baby's name... some of the names are just happened upon on road signs or cafe' doors, some written in the snow or sand, and even other more creative ones spelled out in legos or flower petals or doodled on a napkin.  There are websites of wonderful people who will write your baby's name in the sand and take a picture at sunset (they're beautiful- check 'em out here) or write your baby's name on a rock by a waterfall. I thought it was sweet but didn't really understand the point.  

Can I just say that I TOTALLY. Get. It. now.  Having someone email you a picture with your baby's name on it says that at least for those few moments, they were thinking of your baby.  So here's the deal... if you're ever driving down the road and see a "Whitney Avenue" or you see her name on a product label, would you snap a quick pic and email it to me?  Or if you vacation at the beach or get a ton of snow, would you write her name with a stick or food coloring (fun in the snow!) and send it to me?  It would mean so much.  :-)  I am going to start a "name gallery" for Whitney.  I'll put them together and link them up on the side once I get a few.   Doesn't have to be fancy or artsy.  Thanks, friends.  :-)

I"ll start with one I took on a walk a few weeks ago.  :-)

 

 

Life Stories

I love stories--fairytales, novels, autobiographies, thrillers, you name it.  If there's a hero/heroine and a villain that must be overcome, I'm hooked.  I love a good story.  My dear friend Sandy once told me that I am a "lover of finely crafted words." And she's right.  I love reading the words that burned so deeply within another person's being that they had no choice but to spill them out on paper. There's something that is intensely connecting and rawly human about reading another's words in that way.  

As much as I love picking up a good book and reading the black-and-white print, there is something that engages me even more-- the stories of people around me.  Life stories.  Heart tales.  When I take a second and sit back to think about all of the poeple I encounter every day, I am blown away by the incredible stories their lives must be writing.  On Friday, I went with my husband to a conference downtown for Christian Community Development.  It was a group of the true movers and shakers who are really trying to make a difference in the poverty and crime-stricken areas of our city.  One of the speakers was an incredible woman with such life experience that I was practically hanging on her every word.  Dr. Lulla Barton told of being a young black girl, growing up in a time when segregation was being implemented and the hardships her family began to encounter.  When she was 17, she found her way across several states to the Washington Mall and participated in Dr. Martin Luther King's Million Man March.  She has a hillarious story about getting kicked out of catholic school for questioning the infallibility of the pope, but that didn't stop her education.  She went on to become a 5th generation college graduate, eventually earning her MA from Northwestern and a JD from UCLA.  I learned all that in just the short 15 minutes she was given to introduce herself.  I wanted to sit and listen her full life's story over several cups of coffee.  

Through our journey with Whitney, I have met some amazing women.  As painful as it is sometimes, I love listening to their journeys... hearing about their babies and how as parents they have managed to keep living even after their loss.  I see people around me every day and I can't help but wonder "What's your story?"  Where has my coffee barista been in her lifetime?  What are her dreams?  What makes the man at the post office so unhappy?  Has he lost someone too?  What adventures has the old man sitting behind me in church had in his lifetime?  What stories would they all tell?

 I kinda get the feeling that I'm not alone in this affection for strangers' stories.  Afterall, once you've heard a strager's story, you're not really strangers anymore, right?  And who doesn't want a world with few strangers and more friends?  Donald Miller has a 'contest' right now that asks people to tell a story in a 90 second short film.  I've watched some of the entrants... they range from ridiculous to captivating.  The ones that get me the most are the stories of life... tragedy, triumph, love, determination.  Just seeing how God moves in peoples' lives is incredible to me.  Christian recording artist, Matthew West is working on writing a new album.  Several months ago, he asked people to send him their stories... something they wanted to tell the world about their life.  He is now writing away in a cabin in Tennessee, working on his new album, based on the stories of people just like you and me.  (You can read some of his experience on his blog, as well as his adventures with a new 'friend' he affectionately calls CabinMouse.)  Our stories bond us, they let us know we're not alone in our struggles.  But sharing our stories does more than just that... sharing our stories magnify and illuminate the goodness and glory of God.  Even in the life of the not-yet-believer, God is present in their story.  

I went to the allergist this past week.  (Hell-o spring time in the agricultrual/pollution hot spot of the world!)  The last time I saw him, I was pregnant.  He remembered that and asked me if I was still pregnant.  I told him no, so he said a quick "I'm sorry" and went on to talk about inhalers and antihistamines.  I wanted to stop him... I wanted to tell him our story, Whitney's story.  I wanted to tell him how she changed me, how she brought so much joy, and how grateful I am to God for walking with us every step of the way.  But I didn't get to.  And while I'm sure he would have listened, I don't know that he would have cared. 

 My daughter has a life story.  It seems almost ironic to say that, since she never took a single breath of earth's air.  But she has a story.  A LIFE story.  You know how every story seems to have sort of an overall 'theme'?  The overwhelming theme in Whitney's story (and all of our stories, really) is the goodness and sovereignty of God.  Even in these weeks and months after Whitney's life ended, I continue to see the goodness of God in her unfinished story.  Sometimes I worry that people will forget her.  But God, in his goodness (that is far beyond what I deserve), sends people my way to remind me that she will never be forgotten.  This past week, a friend sent me a message on Facebook telling me she thinks of Whitney all the time.  I got a text from my friend/hair stylist, just letting me know she thinks of Whitney every day.  A friend from church hugged me and whispered in my ear, "I will never forget your daughter."  And a fellow mamma who also lost her baby to triploidy emailed me to tell me that earlier this week, as she was outside in the yard, she saw two white butterflies dancing in the air together... God's way of letting us both know our little girls are being taken care of by the greatest of all Caregivers, and perhaps they are dancing in heaven, chasing butterflies together.   

There is a project called StoryCorps.  Have you heard of them?  Its a huge, national project to basically record our stories.  Everyone's stories... young, old, happy, sad, priviledged, poor.  They go from town to town with a moblie recording studio and record on CD an interview conversation between two people.  That audio CD is then preserved in the Library of Congress.  This is the largest oral history project of its kind!  You can look at the website to see if it is coming to a town near you.  (You can also listen to some of the stories that have already been recorded.)  This next week, a mobile StoryCorps unit will be in our area.  You have to reserve a time, and they are filling up fast!  I reserved a time for Sean and I to go do this next week.  Our story- Whitney's story, and ultimately God's story- will be recorded and preserved along with thousands and thousands of other life stories.   

So what's your story?  Who will you tell?  And more importantly, who's story do you need to hear?  It has been said that listening is one of the greatest acts of love.  

Pregnancy Pictures!

Enjoy these photos of our journey!  I've linked to some blog posts about specific events, so feel free to click away!

July 30, 2009- My first ever positive pregnancy tests!

  August 1- I finally got to tell Sean!

 
 September 3- Ultrasound... measuring about 8 weeks!

 12 weeks 3 days pregnant!  Not much of a belly yet.

           
15 weeks 1 day (Left)    16 weeks 4 days! (Right)

 
 My nursery design for baby girl!

 
October 30, 2009- Bought my first shirt at Motherhood Maternity!

Halloween, 2009.  Love the shirt!

 
 18 weeks 1 day.

Picture from our big ultrasound...
Also when we first learned our baby was a girl!
She now has a name... Whitney Jill!
We also learned at this appointment she was sick. 

 
Had several more appointments.  Then...
 December 10, 2009- Had an amnio to find out exactly what is wrong. 
Weeks later, we finally got the answers, but continued to love our baby despite her diagnosis.

24 weeks 1 day pregnant!
 We're making the most of every moment with Whitney.
Merry Christmas, sweet baby!  Our first Christmas as a family of 3!
We are so blessed to still be pregnant with her! 

We had professional maternity pics taken... best thing ever!

27 weeks pregnant!  Our baby is a fighter!
She's already made it further than anyone expected her to!

29 weeks 2 days!

30 Weeks 6 days... preparing to meet our daughter.

Triploidy

If you've found this page via Google search for "triploidy" I would imagine that you or someone you love has recently heard that term in relation to a precious little one you are eagerly anticipating.  There's not a lot of information about triploidy, and the diagnosis can be devastating to families.  This is a compilation of what I've researched about the condition.  I hope that you'll also stick around to read some of our story, and our journey with our daughter, Whitney Jill.   

Triploidy is an extremely rare chromosomal abnormality.  It is caused by the presence of a complete extra set of chromosomes.

Never heard of it before?  Neither had we.  When we were sent to the Children's hospital, some kind of chromosomal disorder was suspected because of the abnormalities we saw on our 19-week ultrasound.  Some of the 'markers' or indicators that were present on Whitney's ultrasound were: three echogenic foci on her heart; her belly was measuring smaller than her head; all her measurements were a couple of weeks behind where they should have been; extremely low amniotic fluid level.  Some of these conditions completely rectify themselves in other pregnancies.  But in our case, the presence of multiple markers indicated a significant problem, most likely associated with some kind of chromosomal abnormality.  There are a number of different abnormalities that could potentially indicate triploidy.  Abnormal sonogram findings include (from Healthline):

• severe early-onset intrauterine growth retardation (detected as early as 12–14 weeks)


• brain abnormalities, including isolated ventriculomegaly (enlarged ventricles), Arnold-Chiari malformation, holoprosencephaly, andagenesis of the corpus callosum


• cleft lip and possible cleft palate


• limb abnormalities, such as clubfoot or syndactyly (webbing of fingers and toes)


• heart defects


• kidney abnormalities


• abdominal wall defects, such as an omphalocele (an opening in the abdominal wall, which causes the intestines to be located outside the body)


• neural tube defects, such as spina bifida (an opening in the spinal cord)


• oligohydramnios (a decrease amount of amniotic fluid)


• placental abnormalities, including an enlarged placenta or a cystic placenta

The most common chromosomal problems are Downs Syndrome or another one of the Trisomies, like Trisomy 18.  (A trisomy is simply the name for a genetic abnormality in which there are three copies of a particular chromosome, instead of two.)  To break it down simply, most healthy, normal babies have two sets of choromosomes... 23 from the mother and 23 from the father.  That makes a total of 46 chromosomes.  Here's what a "normal" set of human chromosomes looks like:

 
Image from http://ghr.nlm.nih.gov/

 But in the case of a trisomy, one of the sets of chromosomes has an extra copy of one... giving that baby 47 chromosomes.  Each set of chromosomes is numberes... one through 22, plus the sex chromosome, 23.  Generally, the trisomy is named after the number of chromosome that is triplicated.  Downs Syndrome is techincially T21; Edwards Syndrome, or Trisomy 18 is another common trisomy.  

While each of these trisomies contains one extra copy of a certain chromosome, triploidy is unique in that there is an extra copy of not just one chromosome, but every single chromosome.  A baby with triploidy has 69 chromosomes instead of 46.  Here's what the chromosomes of a Triploid baby look like:

Image from http://ghr.nlm.nih.gov/ 

You can clearly see the extra chromosome set.  There is no mistaking what this is... We actually got a copy of Whitney's chromosomal 'picture' and here is what an actual printout of the karotype looks like:

 

So what causes triploidy?  Triploidy occurs in several different ways. The extra set of chromosomes can be inherited from the father (paternal inheritance) or they can be from the mother (maternal inheritance). The most common mechanism for triploidy is the fertilization of a single egg by two sperm. This results in a triploid egg with two sets of paternal chromosomes and one set of maternal chromosomes. This accounts for about 60% of cases of triploidy. The other mechanism is an error in cell division in which an egg cell ends up with 46 chromosomes instead of 23. This egg with 46 chromosomes is fertilized by a sperm with 23 chromosomes, resulting in a fertilized egg with 69 chromosomes, which then has two sets of maternal chromosomes and one set of paternal chromosomes. This mechanism is responsible for about 40% of cases of triploidy. (from Healthline)

Triploidy is a fatal condition.  It occurs in 1-2% of all conceptions.  However, most babies with triploidy spontaneously miscarry early in the first trimester.  Very few triploid pregnancies go to term, and only one in every 10,000 infants is born with triploidy.  It is estimated that for every live-born infant with triploidy, 1,200 have been lost as miscarriages. Most infants with triploidy that do make it close to term are either stillborn or die shortly after birth. 

From everything I have read and been told by our genetic counselor, triploidy is a completely random occurence.  It is not caused by any action of either parent.  And while it involves genetic components, it is not a condition that is passed down genetically.  It is also not associated with the mother's age.  Statistically speaking, a woman who has had one triploid pregnancy is not at any greater risk than anyone else to have another triploid pregnancy.  However, I have met a handful of women who have had multiple triploid pregnancies.  The geneticists still tell them they are at no greater risk than anyone else.  I think that a lot more research needs to be done in this area before anything can be  known for sure.  (Just my opinion!)  That said, I do know many more women who have gone on to have multiple, healthy pregnancies after a triploid loss.  

Generally speaking, the recommended course of action when triploidy is confirmed (generally by amniocentesis or CVS) is termination.  However, as you may read through out this blog, that is not the only course of action available.  I believe that too often, women are quick to follow their doctors' orders, instead of seeking out what is best for them.  Though termination may be recommended by a doctor, I would encourage anyone in a similar situation to take time to consider their other option of continuing to carry the pregnancy.  (Unless of course, your health is in direct jeopardy.  Generally, this means high blood pressure and other signs of toxemia that your doctor will check you for.)  This is an extremely personal decision and not one that should be made hastily.  Take time to consider your options, away from the doctor's office or hospital.  Talk to your significant other.  Take a day or two to sleep on it.  Do not be pressured into something that you have not taken time to consider.  

Of the few babies who survive to term with triploidy, there is a specific pattern of abnormalities that may be seen in their physical characteristics.  Here are some of what may be evident at birth(from Healthline):

 

• Almost all of these infants will have growth retardation  


• Wide-set eyes (hypertelorism) 


• Low-set ears


• Cleft-lip or palate


• Limb abnormalities (such as clubfoot and syndactyly (webbing of the fingers and toes)


• Heart defects


• Kidney malformations


• Genital malformations (particularly in males)

Before Whitney was born, I was really nervous about how she would look.  We couldn't see her very clearly on ultrasounds, because her amniotic fluid levels were so low.  As soon as Whitney was born, the nurse took her over to the bassinet to clean her up and take her measurements.  She kept telling me that Whitney was absolutely perfect.  All of her imperfections must have been on the inside.  When I was able to hold her, I was a little surprised at the way she looked, but it was only because she was so small.  Not even a pound.  But the nurse was right... anatomically speaking, everything on Whitney was perfect (at least on the outside).  I counted every finger and toe about 100 times.  I kissed her tiny, perfectly formed ears.  Her little lips were just so precious.  Every person's experience is different, but for us, Whitney was perfect.  But I've since realized that she would have been beautiful to us no matter what she looked like. 

There is a wealth of information on the Healthline website.  That is where this information came from, unless otherwise noted or linked.  

I can only speak from personal experience when I say that continuing to carry our pregnancy as long as we could was the greatest blessing of my life.  I was able to give my daughter unconditional love every second that her heart was beating inside of her.  I did not choose the moment her heart stopped beating.  All along, we knew the end would be fatal for Whitney.  But we tried to make the most of every second she was with us.  I have no regrets about this decision.  I have met many women who have been faced with this horrible decision, and every single one who chose to continue the pregnancy until it naturally ended shared the same feelings of no regret.  If you have found yourself facing a similar decision, please hear my heart on this... I am not passing judgement or trying to manipulate a specific conclusion.  I simply want to share my experience, and allow others to make the best decision possible for them.  One that will render no regrets in the future.   

Through our journey, I have met several other women who lost their babies to triploidy.  Each one has a unique and beautiful story to share.  If you have found this website because you find yourself in a similar situation, let me first say I am so sorry.  No one should have to experience a loss like this.  The greatest information I have found has been through the firsthand experience of others.  That is why we've shared our story so openly.  If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to send us an email or leave a comment.  The best thing you can do is educate yourself and ask a ton of questions.  We've found that many in the medical community have never dealt specifically with a triploid pregnancy, so often, the care can leave much to be desired.  Even my delivery nurse had never heard of it-- I explained it all to her before Whitney was born!  But be an advocate for yourself and your baby... reasearch, ask questions, seek help and support.  

*Disclaimer* I am not a medical professional by any stretch of the imagination.  Everything I've written on this page is from research I have done on the subject, and I have linked to the sources of my information.  This is intended only to be a summary resource to direct others to those sources of information for their further reading.  Any opinions given are strictly my own.  :-)

Blog Update

Whitney's blog is now much easier to find.......

www.WhitneyJill.com

Yay!  If you subscribe to this blog in a Google reader (or something like that) it will not change the feed.  Also, if you have the old address bookmarked, it won't change that.  This new website address is just easier to find and tell your friends about.  They both take you to the same place.  :-)  

I'm going to be adding some new pages in the next few days and maybe changing up the graphics a little bit... look back soon to see the updates!  :-)

PS- The happy-go-lucky, people-pleasing caretaker in me feels like apologizing for the gloominess of the blog as of late.  But, since I'm all about keepin' it real, I'll refrain from apologizing and just post a happy picture of bunnies and rainbows and unicorns for an extra sprinkling of happiness.  

 

 

We love our little girl, and while we miss her so much, it is important for me to just reiterate truly how much JOY she brought to us in her short life... and how much JOY she continues to bring us even now.  So even though a lot of what we've been writing lately is about our grief and the pain we're feeling without her here, every ounce of pain has an equal (or greater) amount of JOY right along with it.  Thanks for sharing in our ups and downs.  

Grief In The United States of 'A-Okay'

 I’ve been thinking a lot about grief... What it is, how it works, how it feels, and how I can get over it a quickly as possible.  (I don’t like feeling uncomfortable!)  I’ve never felt such intense emotions as I have during this journey with Whitney.  I thought that once Whitney was born, perhaps the hardest parts of this journey would be over.  We’d finally have answers to all of the looming unknowns and start learning how to live in our ‘new normal.’  Boy was I wrong.  This journey is far from over.

I’ve never experienced a loss so close to my heart.  I don’t know what is supposed to happen during this next stage of life.  Everyone has told me that people will grieve differently, and that I should just let others grieve in their own time as they need to.  That would be great except for one major problem... If I don’t know how others are grieving, how can I be assured that what I am experiencing is ok or normal?  And furthermore, if we never talk about our grief, how can the journey that brought us to the grief be validated?  

I have to interject here that my husband and our families have been so great through all of this.  They haven’t been afraid to cry with us or tell us when they miss Whitney.  I am so thankful for their openness with us.  It lets us know that she has a place in their hearts, too.  I have a feeling, though, that most people in their grief may not have the support and transparency that we are blessed with.  They’re left to wade through the waters alone, and that’s simply not how it was meant to be.  

A few weeks ago I watched the movie, “Love Happens.”  Its your typical chick-flick love story... Good looking guy who is successful, good looking girl who works in a flower shop (why do they always work in a flower shop?), they meet, fall in love, but something is keeping them apart.  The guy in this case is a self-help guru who's written a book called "A-Okay."  The background to his story is that he lost his wife in a car accident several years ago, and he's written a book about how to overcome the grief.  He goes all over the country, holding seminars to help people overcome loss in their lives.  The only problem is, he really hasn't dealt with his own grief.  We later learn he didn’t even attend his wife’s funeral.  There's a scene in the very beginning of the movie where he is pacing behind a door, obviously sad (and he’d been drinking), but when the announcer enthusiastically finishes his introduction, the main character turns on a 1000-watt smile and bursts through the door, proclaiming “we can all be A-Okay!”

Isn’t that so true of how our culture is today?  We want to sweep our pain (or the pain of others) under the rug, ‘get over it’ quickly... We look to some seminar or self-help book to give us 5 (or 10, or 20) steps of how to move on with our lives.  The majority of literature I’ve read on how to walk through the grieving process has been, as a whole, pretty useless.  Its all about the individual... What you need, what you will experience, what you should do, etc.... Our society has once again individualized what I believe was meant to be experienced as a community.  

Since my parents live in Egypt, our entire family has become fascinated with learning more about the rich (even Biblical) ancient country.  My sister has been reading a book called “A Woman of Egypt.”  Its by Jehan Sadat, the widow of Anwar Sadat (and as such, the former first lady of Egypt).  I haven’t read it yet, but Megan (my sis) was telling Sean of a chapter in the book that details life in the Egyptian villages, and one story in particular that illustrated how the death of a child is mourned by all.  Sadat wrote that when she went to pay condolences to the mother who’s son had been killed in a military accident, she had no difficultly locating her house.  She simply followed the sounds of grief.  When she arrived at the home, at least sixty women were surrounding the mother, all of them crying as if their own sons had died. Each woman recounted memories of this woman’s boy:

“‘I remember him as a little boy.  I can see him now dressed in his military uniform coming to the village in a Jeep just like a prince,” one woman was crying out as I came through the door.  Immediately, all the women burst into wails, some beating their breasts and tearing at their clothes.’

When the crying died down a little, another woman spoke.  ‘I remember sitting at his wedding just five years ago,’ she cried out.  ‘Never had he looked so beautiful dressed in his white galabiyya and a silk shawl.  He looked like an angel.’  And again the women burst into shrieks of pain.

The atmosphere of loss was palpable... For three days the women came to lament with [the mother], from the first rays of dawn until the evening, when they had to go tend to their own families.  The village women did not leave the grieving sister for one minute... By the end of the three days, everyone, including [the mother] was exhausted.  By calling up every measure of grief at the young man’s death, the women had helped to cleanse [the mother’s] pain and to leave behind no hard grief.  Nor did they desert her after the three days.  Her close friends and neighbors stayed with her after that.  And every Thursday afternoon until the fortieth-day ceremony, all the women returned to lament, though more quietly with [the mother] until her grief began to fade.  In Cairo, we treated death much more privately and kept our sorrow to ourselves.  But in the village, everyone shared in everything.”

Can you imagine grieving like that in modern-day America?  We’ve replaced ancient customs of days or weeks-long communal-grieving with a quicker, more-comfortable-for-all funeral service.  We all gather for 20 or 30 minutes to remember the life and death of a loved one.  Some may cry, but for the most part, we stand or sit with our hands folded neatly in our laps, our heads bowed.  Hardly a release of intense emotions caused by a loss.  And hardly a tribute to the incredible affect that lost loved one had on our lives.  Those most affected are left to return to their ‘normal’ lives, only to realize ‘normal’ will never be the same. I wonder how many addictions, depressions and other states of despair originate in grief and the incredible freeing powers that could come from simply being allowed to fully express those emotions.  

Of course, knowing Christ adds a whole other dimension to the grief process.  It is a dimension I am grateful for, but one that is too often used by those outside of the situation to gloss over the pain of loss.  Some want to tell us that we should not grieve, because we know we will see our loved one again in heaven.  We are told there is no reason to be sad because our baby is with Jesus, experiencing no pain or sadness; she is smiling down on us from heaven.  While I try to appreciate the well-wishes and lollipop theology, these statements do very little to anesthetize the pain caused by the gaping hole where our daughter should be.  

Jesus is no stranger to pain.  He is no stranger to loss.  Though simultaneously both God and man, he knew what it was like to grieve the loss of a loved one.  We see Jesus’ grief at the death of Lazarus.  Even though he knew he would raise him from the dead just moments later, the grief of those around him touched Jesus and he wept.  The Bible never says we should not grieve.  The Bible never says we will not feel loss.  As a consequence of sin in this world, there will be death.  BUT the big difference is, we do have HOPE.  Time and time again in the Psalms, we read that “sorrow may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.”  And we are instructed not to grieve like those who have no hope.  I believe with all my heart that our baby is in a better place.  That she is feeling no pain, and as a new creation, she is perfect.  I KNOW that we will see her again.  I rejoice in waiting for that day.  But until that time, there is still a loss in my heart.  A deep grief that just can’t be glossed over with Sunday School phrases.  It doesn’t mean that we have no hope in Christ-- indeed, we do!  That is the only thing that has carried us the past 9 months.  It just means that we are human and part of being human is expressing loss.  

If you stuck this out to the end, I’m impressed... You deserve a cup of coffee!  Or perhaps your coffee went cold while you were reading this!  :-)  Bottom line?  I’m thankful for the hope we have in Christ.  And I am also thankful that he cared for us enough to validate our feelings of loss and grief by his own example while on this earth.  Even in the midst of missing our daughter with every fiber of our being, we can cling to this prayer:

“May the God of HOPE fill you with all JOY and PEACE as you TRUST in Him so that you may OVERFLOW with HOPE by the POWER of the Holy Spirit.” (Romans 15:13)

Overflow in me, sweet Jesus... Thank-you for being near me in my grief, for holding me when I cry, and restoring me when I am broken.  Thank-you for the HOPE you give... The hope and promise of a future with you for eternity.  May my life be a testimony to your grace, your loving kindness, and eternal goodness.  

Whitney's Memorial Service

 Like Sean just wrote in the previous post, today is Whitney's one-month birthday.  How I would have loved to wake her up with a gentle kiss and "Happy Birthday, baby"!  I thought today would be an appropriate day to post about the memorial service we had for her.

Whitney was born on Thursday, February 11 and by that Saturday, both Sean's parents and my parents and sister were able to be here with us.  We had originally planned to do something at our church... you know, the typical funeral/memorial service with a song, a memorial video, some words and a prayer.  We decided to do it Tuesday, because Sean's parents and both my parents would still be here.  However, as the day got closer, I just kept feeling more and more anxious... uneasy.  I didn't want the pressure of having a big memorial service, even though I really did want to share her with all of our friends here.  After thinking about it a lot and praying about it A LOT, we decided to do something small with just our family.  And in the end, I was so happy that we did.  I felt complete and total peace on the Tuesday of her memorial service and was able to just really enjoy it.

Monday night before her memorial, I asked everyone to write a note to Whitney... a poem, a prayer, a note... something.  Even some of my family who wasn't able to be there in person emailed us some notes.  Tuesday morning, Mom and I went out to get some pink balloons... we had to go to three different stores to find latex balloons!  Silly California rules.

We loaded up in our cars around 11:00 that morning and went to a nearby park that has several little lakes.  We drove around and chose a spot that had some great trees and a nice place to lay our blanket out.  There were crazy ducks and huge geese all around us!  It was fun to watch them as they came in for a landing on the lake.  

Sean and I began by reading a couple passages of scripture.  I read Psalm 145 and he read Psalm 146.  We then took turns reading our notes to Whitney.  It was difficult to read them, but it was so nice to hear how much her Grandparents, Aunts and Uncles love her.  We talked a little bit about just how beautiful and perfect she was, and all the precious things we got to experience because of her.

After that, it was time to release the balloons... we tied small notes on them (just short notes that said "I Love You" and things like that) and the released them.  We thought we'd be smart and tie the notes on them while we were still at home... but when we got to the lake, they were all tangled!  So we spent a good 15 minutes untangling the balloon strings before we could let them go!  It was kinda funny.  Watching the balloons climb higher and higher in the sky was a very uplifting experience... it was like we were releasing her to God.  So here's some picture from that special day.  Hope you enjoy them.  I love that we have that place at the lake to go to whenever we miss her a lot.  She would have loved sitting out in the sun on a nice spring day, and even feeding those annoying ducks when she got older.  :-)  After the park, we went to the Olive Garden for lunch.  That's where we went when we found out we were havin a girl, and that's where we went several other times during our pregnancy.  She was a fan of the Italian food, too.   All in all, it was perfect.  It was a perfect day, pressure free, and we just enjoyed remembering and honoring our precious daughter who held on for so long.  I am so glad we did what felt right for us.  

We miss our girl and love her so much.  I take so much comfort in knowing that she is loved and cared for now in perfection, and that is all she will ever know.  The hope of heaven has never been greater in my heart than it is today.  Enjoy the pics! (You can click on them to make them bigger.)

^"But in your hearts set apart Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect...It is better, if it is God's will, to suffer for doing good than for doing evil. For Christ died for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, to bring you to God. He was put to death in the body but made alive by the Spirit..." 1 Peter 3:15, 17-18