Wounds and Scars

My pregnancy with my first son was a time that feels like ages ago and just yesterday at the same time. I remember waddling around, extremely pregnant, trying to brush off questions about the baby like ,“Do you know if it’s a boy or girl?” Most expectant moms love to answer these kinds of questions, but for me, they felt like sprinkling salt in an open wound. “No,” I would respond to the boy or girl question. Obviously, the follow-up statement is “We want it to be a surprise.” However, this was not true. The fact was we just didn’t know the sex of the baby because there wasn’t enough amniotic fluid surrounding the baby for its sex to be visible in an ultrasound. Right after having these types of conversations, I would scream inside, “I can’t wait until this is over.”

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Photo credit: Create Her Stock

Thirteen months and 4 days since giving birth to Israel David, it’s still not over. It’s a popular saying that “Time heals all wounds.” I’m not sure that I believe that. Time makes a wound transform into a scar. Sure, I don’t have the same gaping wound that I had in the days and months after Israel’s death when I was pissed off at the sun for shining or when it seemed like boy babies and pregnant women were everywhere just to taunt me. Even still, there are the rough moments, when my wound is no longer crusted over, but feels like a gigantic hole.

I think in the case of infant loss, it’s a bit more accurate to say, “Time makes things different.” A mother never forgets the loss of her child. It was only in the last few months that I felt up to attending a pregnancy and infant loss support group meeting at the hospital where I both gave birth and said “good-bye” to Israel. The meeting facilitator was a nurse who’d also experienced the loss of her son shortly after his birth. She recounted the circumstances of losing her son over 20 years ago and told us that even now, there are times when the pain still feels fresh. What I appreciated even more than her openness was how she reflected on ways that she and her family incorporate her son into their celebrations and their lives. As mothers of angels we don’t move on, but we move forward, carrying the memories of our lost babies with us.

No, it’s never over, but it can be a good kind of “different.” If I’m completely serious with myself, I don’t really want to go back to the way things were before losing Israel. Yes, I wish I could take the pain away; I wish I could feel the void that was left from having a little boy that I can never see grow up or who I can’t hug, kiss, and read stories to. But, there are changes in my life and in myself that I love—like the boldness that comes from knowing that I’ve hit my lowest point and there’s nowhere to go but up. I’ve made it through the grief, the isolation, the depression, the shame; I can make it through anything. Despite the fact that time itself cannot make all of the pain go away, I’m grateful for my battle scars.

My family and I will be walking in the March of Dimes March for Babies on Sunday, April 30, 2017 in honor of our angel. We’d love for you to donate to our campaign! Any amount no matter how small may help other families of premature infants. Click here and know that we’re so thankful for you!

Staying High

 

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Labor Day 2016

Wednesday, January 25, 2017 marked one year since I both said ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ to my newborn son, Izzy, and what a year it’s been. My family will be walking and fundraising for the March of Dimes March for Babies again this year in Izzy’s honor, therefore, here I am starting a blog series on the lessons I’ve learned and the encouragement I have to offer one year post infant loss. I’ve had highs and lows, but most importantly, I’ve grown and learned to keep pressing on through it all.

 

One of the key truths I’ve learned over the past year is that life is both the pain and the joy, the despair and the hope, the tears and the laughter—all of it is entwined and it’s impossible to have one without soon having the other. Somebody once said that if you never have the valleys, you won’t know what the mountaintop feels like. Every day that I find myself smiling or laughing, I’m in awe of the glory of God and the mysteries of life because I remember days when I thought I would never be able to smile or laugh again.

One of my favorite songs right now is “Stay High” by Jonathan McReynolds. Bruh has helped get me through the storms this year. After a friend invited me to see him live, I’ve been hooked on his music. Let me know what you think in the comments!

My family and I will be walking in the March of Dimes March for Babies on Sunday, April 30, 2017 in honor of our angel. We’d love for you to donate to our campaign! Any amount no matter how small may help other families of premature infants. Click here and know that we’re so thankful for you!

 

Walk Day: March for Babies 2016 Recap

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Izzy’s big sis sporting her fly “Proof that miracles happen” cape!

 

Sunday, April 24, 2016—the day of the March of Dimes March for Babies—was a perfect day. The sun was shining bright and the temperature was probably somewhere in the 60s-70s in the Chi—warm, but breezy. As we walked on the lakefront downtown, the sun sparkled like diamonds on Lake Michigan and the sail boats gently swayed in the wind. We walked in solidarity with countless other families who have either experienced the anxiety of taking care of a premature infant or families, like us, who were there celebrating the life of an angel baby that is no longer on earth. My husband and I felt part of a larger community of parents who have been through the fire and have come out not only alive, but refined. We were grateful to know that we weren’t alone.

Everything was perfect, not solely because the weather was nice or because we had a great group of close family and friends supporting us or even because we were able to do something to help others in honor of our son, Izzy. (Our team, Fight4Israel, raised $1,943 for babies!) It was perfect because we chose to focus on the things that were going well instead of the things that weren’t. We chose to be grateful for the people who came out to walk with us instead of the people who didn’t. It was perfect because it was symbolic of us choosing life instead of choosing to spiritually die because our hearts were broken from losing Izzy.

 

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The majority of the Fight4Israel team. Thank God for them!

 

It was just one day. As long as we’re on this side of heaven without Izzy, we know that there will be both sunny, breezy days when we’re walking in hope and cloudy, dismal days when we have to look hard for meaning out of everything that has happened. Regardless, we will look back on Sunday, April 24, 2016 with joy and gratitude because it was at least one day of victory over grief!

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Cousins! One walked for her little bro, a preemie in heaven. The other walked because she was a preemie and is thriving!