Not like you

Not like you

I am a mother, though not like you.

You cradle your sweet baby in your armes,

Mine are empty, but I hold him in my heart.

You brush her soft curly hair,

and tie pretty pink bows just right.

A lock of his hair is tucked neatly in a book.

You pick daisies and tie them in a chain

to wear around her neck.

I cut lilacs and arrange them in a vase to set at his grave.

You look forward to dreams and plans.

I hold onto memories.

I am a mother,

though not like you.

By Sheri Hess

Thinking of you

I'm thinking of you tonight Samuel.

It's hard to believe I had a baby less than two months ago and here I am again, going on with life 'as usual'. No baby carrier with you in my shopping cart. I see little ones and my eyes linger over them, comparing them to you. Would you be older? If you had lived, would my baby be that size or bigger?

It feels so wrong.

I miss you.

I miss life when it was normal. I could carelessly take so much for granted.

It was fun to look forward to you, before we knew that you too, would leave us. So many daydreams I entertained Little One. Of you and me, me holding you, Papa holding you, the kids holding you...you get the idea. There was a lot of love that was to be lavished upon you.

Sigh.

There still is.

Like I said, I'm thinking of you tonight Samuel. And missing you.

Wait in silence

My Soul Waits for God Alone

A Psalm of David.

For God alone my soul waits in silence;

from him comes my salvation.

He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress;

I shall not be greatly shaken.

How long will all of you attack a man to batter him,

like a leaning wall, a tottering fence?

They only plan to thrust him down from his high position.

They take pleasure in falsehood.

They bless with their mouths,

but inwardly they curse.

Selah

For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence,
for my hope is from him.
He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress;
I shall not be shaken.
On God rests my salvation and my glory;
my mighty rock, my refuge is God.
Trust in him at all times, O people;
pour out your heart before him;
God is a refuge for us.

Selah

Those of low estate are but a breath;
those of high estate are a delusion;
in the balances they go up;
they are together lighter than a breath.
Put no trust in extortion; set no vain hopes on robbery;
if riches increase, set not your heart on them.
Once God has spoken; twice have I heard this:
that power belongs to God, and that to you, O Lord,
belongs steadfast love.
For you will render to a man
according to his work.

- Psalm 62


I listened to Joseph Morecraft teach on Psalm 62 today. It was good.

If you are down, if you are going through tough times, take some time to listen to his sermon called The Soul's Sole Hope. I subscribe to his Podcast called Chalcedon Presbyterian Church. It helped.

It helps to remember who God is.

Knitting for Samuel

I knit.

I learned to knit beyond your basic scarf when I was 7.5 months pregnant with Isabel and had just found out she was going to die after she was born. I had a desperate need to do something for her. To have something that I could give her.

I wanted her to know her Mama loved her and wanted her.

I have been knitting like crazy ever since.

I had been sort of 'stuck' knitting baby items before I got pregnant with Samuel. I just kept knitting and knitting little pink baby socks. I couldn't help myself. It was a little embarassing. But they were so cute and I thought maybe...maybe someday we'd have someone to wear them.

When I found out I was pregnant, I was so excited to be able to spend my pregnancy knitting for a baby we could keep. It was so fun. I knit diaper soakers in generic colors. I knit this baby sleep sack. I was really looking forward to holding him in this.

After we found out that Samuel would likely not live, then I went into overdrive again because this was it. There was only now and that would be all we had. Once again, they told me he could die at anytime in the womb, he would likely be small so there was a need to knit everything in many sizes starting with tiny.

It did give me something to do.

A way to cope.

A purpose.

I chose these buttons for Papa. My husband is a bow hunter and he would have taught Samuel to be a hunter as well.

Allow for numbness

Feeling dazed or numb when your baby dies is often part of your early grief experience. This numbness serves a valuable purpose; it gives your emotions time to catch up with what your mind has been told. You may feel as if the world has suddenly come to a halt. Your plans and dreams for the future have been assaulted.

You may feel you are in a dream-like state. As one mother said, "It's like running headfirst into a solid wall. I was stunned and didn't want to believe the words I was hearing. I wanted someone to wake me up and tell me this wasn't happening."

Feelings of numbness and disbelief help create insulation from the reality of the death until you are more able to tolerate what you don't want to believe.

From Helping Yourself Heal When a Baby Dies

A poem for Samuel

If I could go back

Back to before the hopes and dreams

Before the heartache and sorrow

Before all the tears

I wouldn't Samuel.

I wouldn't

Because now I know you.

I know your face.

You are one of us now.

You belong to us

And I would never want to undo that.

I wish I could have seen your little face

break out into smile.

To hear you laugh that baby laugh

Watch you nurse

Play peek-a-boo with your brothers and sister

Watch you sleep on Papa's chest

in the dim light of the lava lamp

But we will have to wait for all those things.

We will spend our lives dreaming of you

And the days ahead when we will get to know you

As you truly are.

Not just an adorable little face

But you as God created you.

Until then, grab your sister's hand.

Enjoy Heaven.

When you see that one of us is coming

Wait for us at the gate.

Samuel Angus - October 21, 2009

I woke up on Tuesday, October 20th and lay in bed thinking about the day, talking to the kids and giving them jobs to do. As I lay there alone on the bed, it suddenly dawned on me that I hadn't felt Samuel move for a while. I called my midwife, Desiree.

We decided I should go to the birth center and let her listen with the doppler. The birth center was closed that day and I had the kids wait in the van.

I lay on the bed in the birthing suite that I had dreamed of having a baby in. It was so surreal, that I would find out that he had died in this very room. The very room that I had daydreamed about having Samuel in.

It felt so cruel.

I lay there staring at the ceiling, tears rolling down my cheeks as Desiree listened in vain for a heartbeat. She was crying too.

I met my husband at the local hospital to have an ultrasound to confirm Samuel had died. I was 32 weeks. We went home and packed our bags and went to the hospital to be induced.

Samuel Angus was stillborn at 7:25 am October 21, 2009. He weighed 5 lbs 9 oz and was 18 inches long.

He was beautiful.