I've been thinking about a lot of things lately. Last week was my friend's birthday -- she passed away two years ago, only 25 years old. I remember it was the first time I realized that it doesn't matter if your child is a baby or an adult -- if you outlive them, it hurts more than you could have ever imagined.
I think losing a child is something that everyone fears, but never thinks will actually happen to them. Jeffrey and I recently signed up for a life insurance policy, and they asked if we wanted the children covered. We declined while talking with the agent, so we didn't really have a chance to discuss all our thoughts. But I think Jeffrey feels the same way I do. We just can't even think that we might lose another child. Call it denial, or idealistic thinking, but it's the only way I can lead a normal life. I just can't be constantly thinking that I might outlive my children. And I can't do anything that would suggest that they might see Riley before I do (like getting life insurance for them). I don't know. I mean, that doesn't keep me from worrying all the time. I still check on Bekka most nights, to make sure she's okay. And we have a movement monitor on Hannah's crib that detects the motion from her breathing. We used it for Bekka too, and I don't think I would have ever gotten any sleep if we hadn't had it for her. We use it for Hannah, but I don't seem to need it quite as much as I did with Bekka. With Bekka, I had to turn the sound indicator on, so I could hear it clicking all night long, telling me she was okay. With Hannah, I just have it set to beep if there is ever a long enough break in movement. So I guess I don't need the constant reassuring, just the safety net in case anything ever happens. Still, most of the time she doesn't even sleep in her crib. I don't know if I have a point to all this, I'm just writing out my thoughts.
This is kind of a jumbled post, but I just had to get my thoughts out. I just found out this morning about a 16-year-old girl who passed away. She was just a little girl when I was in young women's with her sisters. My heart is breaking for their family. I sent a message to their mother, which is what got me thinking about all this. Here is some of what I wrote to her:
"I know the pain of outliving your child is tremendous, but the healing
power of the atonement is even greater. I'm sure it is all overwhelming
right now, and nothing can make your heart stop hurting. But you CAN
find peace and comfort through the Savior. I am so grateful
that families can be together forever. Having a knowledge of the plan of
salvation helped us focus on our hope for the future, instead of our
pain in the present. We still miss our little boy every day, and
sometimes the pain is still overwhelming. But we have learned to smile
and laugh again."
I just wanted to share that on here, because it is the #1 thing I would share with anyone who loses a child.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Sorting Through My Emotions
Emotions can be confusing. My husband says it's impossible to feel both sad and happy at the same moment. I beg to differ. In 23 days, we will celebrate the day our son would have turned 3. As in the past, we will spend this day celebrating his life, honoring his memory, thanking God for the time we got to spend with him, and looking forward to our permanent reunion. I'm not sure how I will feel on his actual birthday -- I think sometimes I do better on special days because I am able to brace myself for the emotional affront. All I know is that right now it is hard for me to think about it. I want to do something nice, because he is a part of our family, and I want our other children to know how grateful we are for their older brother. We want him to be a part of their lives, even if he isn't here with us now.
I've identified my main coping mechanism: I think of Riley as a missionary in the spirit world. That way I can almost think that our family has always been this way. Perhaps it's not the best way to deal with things, but it's how I am able to function, and how I can be a better mother to the children who depend on me right now. So the hardest times for me are when I have to acknowledge that he really was here, and that I once had many hopes and expectations for his life on earth. Things like birthdays force me to think about all of that and it can prove very emotionally taxing for me.
As if that weren't enough to send me on an emotional roller coaster, in 29 days, we will welcome our second daughter into the world (one of the perks of a planned c-section is being able to plan for things like that). Bringing another child into our family has been a very emotional, faith-trying experience for us. As with my last pregnancy, I feel guilty that the feelings of joy over our new child are accompanied by the pain and sorrow of missing our son. My excitement and anticipation about meeting my new little girl are accompanied by fear and dread concerning her safety. Many of these feelings have not been as sharp as they were last time, because I have been busy being a full-time mother. But when I lay awake at night or catch a quiet moment to think about things, all these emotions start flooding my body. I feel like I subconsciously tune out all these feelings as a type of self-preservation, but I'm going to have to face them sooner or later. I'm afraid it won't hit me until I'm in the hospital, holding my baby, and it will all just come crashing down on my head. I really am excited to meet my baby girl, but I'm also so, so scared.
I know things would be hard regardless of when the baby was born, but it makes it even harder that her birthday will be within a week of Riley's. It's just so hard to celebrate when you are grieving. Like Jeffrey's birthday being only two days before Riley's angelversary. It all makes for an even more drastic ride along the spectrum of emotions. Perhaps I am able to feel opposing emotions simultaneously because I must. I will grieve because I am separated from my son, but I will rejoice because our eternal family will be growing.
I've identified my main coping mechanism: I think of Riley as a missionary in the spirit world. That way I can almost think that our family has always been this way. Perhaps it's not the best way to deal with things, but it's how I am able to function, and how I can be a better mother to the children who depend on me right now. So the hardest times for me are when I have to acknowledge that he really was here, and that I once had many hopes and expectations for his life on earth. Things like birthdays force me to think about all of that and it can prove very emotionally taxing for me.
As if that weren't enough to send me on an emotional roller coaster, in 29 days, we will welcome our second daughter into the world (one of the perks of a planned c-section is being able to plan for things like that). Bringing another child into our family has been a very emotional, faith-trying experience for us. As with my last pregnancy, I feel guilty that the feelings of joy over our new child are accompanied by the pain and sorrow of missing our son. My excitement and anticipation about meeting my new little girl are accompanied by fear and dread concerning her safety. Many of these feelings have not been as sharp as they were last time, because I have been busy being a full-time mother. But when I lay awake at night or catch a quiet moment to think about things, all these emotions start flooding my body. I feel like I subconsciously tune out all these feelings as a type of self-preservation, but I'm going to have to face them sooner or later. I'm afraid it won't hit me until I'm in the hospital, holding my baby, and it will all just come crashing down on my head. I really am excited to meet my baby girl, but I'm also so, so scared.
I know things would be hard regardless of when the baby was born, but it makes it even harder that her birthday will be within a week of Riley's. It's just so hard to celebrate when you are grieving. Like Jeffrey's birthday being only two days before Riley's angelversary. It all makes for an even more drastic ride along the spectrum of emotions. Perhaps I am able to feel opposing emotions simultaneously because I must. I will grieve because I am separated from my son, but I will rejoice because our eternal family will be growing.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
A Long Overdue Return
Well, it's been almost a year since I last updated. I don't know if anything I say helps anybody, but on the chance that it does, I feel I should continue to share my thoughts and experiences.
There are so many things to write about. Where do I start? Last week my heart broke when I found out my friend was admitted to the hospital two months early and their little boy didn't make it. While I have grown to accept my role as the mother of an angel baby, and while I think that makes me a better, stronger person today, it is not something I would ever want anybody else to have to go through. The circumstances may have been different, but I understood the feelings of loss, grief, despair, and anguish; the hopes and dreams that won't be fulfilled; the overwhelming emptiness where your child should be. I felt her pain as the memories of my own echoed through my heart -- wounds now eased, but never completely healed. But despite my understanding and genuine empathy, I could do nothing to lessen her pain or ease her burden. It frustrated me. So I decided to share some thoughts on here. Maybe it will help her. Maybe it will help somebody else. I don't know. But at least I will know that I did what I could.
There is nothing anyone can say that will ease the initial grief of a bereaved parent. But for me, knowing that people wanted to, that was enough for me to feel their love and support. The only thing that got us through our despair was our testimony of the Atonement, our trust in God, and our faith in the promised blessings of an eternal family. But even this could not take away our pain, only give us the strength to endure it. And that is what we did. One day at a time -- some days worse, some days better. Even now, two and a half years later, our lives have moved forward, but there are still moments and days where I just have to focus on getting through the end of the day.
I know how easily somebody's pain can turn to anger. I understand how people can blame God and turn away from Him. But if ever there was a time to rely on Him, it is when you experience such life-altering, heart-shattering grief. We are not here to lead a life free from all trial and heartache. There are times when He will not take away our burdens. Rather, He will give us the strength to endure them. Through Him, we have the promise of not only being reunited with our beloved child, but of never losing them again. How can anyone ever expect to feel joy if they abandon their hope in that promise? I know there have been days where that promise is all that got my through.
I know how hard it is to keep an eternal perspective when the pain is so overwhelming, but the more you can do it, the more your heart can be healed. Young children who pass away before the age of accountability are automatically guaranteed a place in the celestial kingdom. They will have the opportunity to find a righteous companion and be sealed to them. Of all the hopes and dreams we could have for our children, are any greater than this? They will be able to experience every good thing, without the sorrows of this world. I know it's hard to think that way, because this is the only world we know. But our sweet angel children will not be denied any blessing or opportunity we could wish for them. It will just be on a different timetable.
Every day, I am grateful for my son. Knowing that his exaltation is ensured helps me strive that much more to be worthy of celestial glory. Death may have separated us for the time being, but I know that if I continue to trust in God and live up to my covenants, no power can break the eternal ties between me and my sweet Riley.
There are so many things to write about. Where do I start? Last week my heart broke when I found out my friend was admitted to the hospital two months early and their little boy didn't make it. While I have grown to accept my role as the mother of an angel baby, and while I think that makes me a better, stronger person today, it is not something I would ever want anybody else to have to go through. The circumstances may have been different, but I understood the feelings of loss, grief, despair, and anguish; the hopes and dreams that won't be fulfilled; the overwhelming emptiness where your child should be. I felt her pain as the memories of my own echoed through my heart -- wounds now eased, but never completely healed. But despite my understanding and genuine empathy, I could do nothing to lessen her pain or ease her burden. It frustrated me. So I decided to share some thoughts on here. Maybe it will help her. Maybe it will help somebody else. I don't know. But at least I will know that I did what I could.
There is nothing anyone can say that will ease the initial grief of a bereaved parent. But for me, knowing that people wanted to, that was enough for me to feel their love and support. The only thing that got us through our despair was our testimony of the Atonement, our trust in God, and our faith in the promised blessings of an eternal family. But even this could not take away our pain, only give us the strength to endure it. And that is what we did. One day at a time -- some days worse, some days better. Even now, two and a half years later, our lives have moved forward, but there are still moments and days where I just have to focus on getting through the end of the day.
I know how easily somebody's pain can turn to anger. I understand how people can blame God and turn away from Him. But if ever there was a time to rely on Him, it is when you experience such life-altering, heart-shattering grief. We are not here to lead a life free from all trial and heartache. There are times when He will not take away our burdens. Rather, He will give us the strength to endure them. Through Him, we have the promise of not only being reunited with our beloved child, but of never losing them again. How can anyone ever expect to feel joy if they abandon their hope in that promise? I know there have been days where that promise is all that got my through.
I know how hard it is to keep an eternal perspective when the pain is so overwhelming, but the more you can do it, the more your heart can be healed. Young children who pass away before the age of accountability are automatically guaranteed a place in the celestial kingdom. They will have the opportunity to find a righteous companion and be sealed to them. Of all the hopes and dreams we could have for our children, are any greater than this? They will be able to experience every good thing, without the sorrows of this world. I know it's hard to think that way, because this is the only world we know. But our sweet angel children will not be denied any blessing or opportunity we could wish for them. It will just be on a different timetable.
Every day, I am grateful for my son. Knowing that his exaltation is ensured helps me strive that much more to be worthy of celestial glory. Death may have separated us for the time being, but I know that if I continue to trust in God and live up to my covenants, no power can break the eternal ties between me and my sweet Riley.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Slowing Things Down
Well, the last couple weeks have been full of visits with family and moving into our Reno home for the summer. We don't have internet in our apartment, and the nearest place with free WiFi is Starbucks. I figure I'll make a weekly trip down there to update blogs and upload pictures to Facebook. Anyway, the point is, I'm going to have to slow down the pace of this blog to one, maybe two posts a week. But as always, you can reach me by email (which I get on my phone) if you ever need someone to talk to, or you would like to be a contributor to this blog.
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Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Words of Comfort: Healed By His Power
From Elder Kent F. Richard's talk The Atonement Covers All Pain from the April 2011 General Conference
As Elder Dallin H. Oaks has taught: “Healing blessings come in many ways, each suited to our individual needs, as known to Him who loves us best. Sometimes a ‘healing’ cures our illness or lifts our burden. But sometimes we are ‘healed’ by being given strength or understanding or patience to bear the burdens placed upon us.” 17 All that will come may be “clasped in the arms of Jesus.” 18 All souls can be healed by His power. All pain can be soothed. In Him, we can “find rest unto [our] souls.” 19 Our mortal circumstances may not immediately change, but our pain, worry, suffering, and fear can be swallowed up in His peace and healing balm.
I really liked this quote when I heard it. We always think (or at least we want it so badly that we convince ourselves) that being healed means that our pain will be taken from us. Of course, we also think that if we are faithful, God will answer our prayers the way we want him to. But that's not how it works. I know that over the past year and a half I have received much healing in the form of strength, understanding, and patience. Obviously, I am still physically separated from my son, and will be for some time. But my pain, worry, suffering, and fear have indeed been swallowed up in His peace.
As Elder Dallin H. Oaks has taught: “Healing blessings come in many ways, each suited to our individual needs, as known to Him who loves us best. Sometimes a ‘healing’ cures our illness or lifts our burden. But sometimes we are ‘healed’ by being given strength or understanding or patience to bear the burdens placed upon us.” 17 All that will come may be “clasped in the arms of Jesus.” 18 All souls can be healed by His power. All pain can be soothed. In Him, we can “find rest unto [our] souls.” 19 Our mortal circumstances may not immediately change, but our pain, worry, suffering, and fear can be swallowed up in His peace and healing balm.
I really liked this quote when I heard it. We always think (or at least we want it so badly that we convince ourselves) that being healed means that our pain will be taken from us. Of course, we also think that if we are faithful, God will answer our prayers the way we want him to. But that's not how it works. I know that over the past year and a half I have received much healing in the form of strength, understanding, and patience. Obviously, I am still physically separated from my son, and will be for some time. But my pain, worry, suffering, and fear have indeed been swallowed up in His peace.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Words of Comfort: Patience, Faith, Fortitude, and Humility
From Elder Kent F. Richard's talk The Atonement Covers All Pain during April 2011 General Conference:
Elder Orson F. Whitney wrote: “No pain that we suffer, no trial that we experience is wasted. It ministers to our education, to the development of such qualities as patience, faith, fortitude, and humility. … It is through sorrow and suffering, toil and tribulation, that we gain the education that we come here to acquire.”
Orson F. Whitney, in Spencer W. Kimball, Faith Precedes the Miracle (1972), 98.
I know this doesn't talk specifically about the pain of losing a child, but it does remind us that even that pain can help us grow and develop eternal qualities.
Elder Orson F. Whitney wrote: “No pain that we suffer, no trial that we experience is wasted. It ministers to our education, to the development of such qualities as patience, faith, fortitude, and humility. … It is through sorrow and suffering, toil and tribulation, that we gain the education that we come here to acquire.”
Orson F. Whitney, in Spencer W. Kimball, Faith Precedes the Miracle (1972), 98.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Words of Comfort: Preaching, Preaching All the Time
Father Smith [Joseph Smith Sr.] and Carlos [Smith] and Brother [Edward] Partridge, yes, and every other good Saint, are just as busy in the spirit world as you and I are here. They can see us, but we cannot see them unless our eyes were opened. What are they doing there? They are preaching, preaching all the time, and preparing the way for us to hasten our work in building temples here and elsewhere.
"Chapter 38: The Spirit World," Teachings of Presidents of the Church: Brigham Young, (1997)
"Chapter 38: The Spirit World," Teachings of Presidents of the Church: Brigham Young, (1997)
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