First Lessons in Parenting

8 years ago today was a day that I don't think I will ever forget.
It was the day we went in to have our first ultrasound,
to check on the well being of our first baby.

I was nervous that day.  I had been having a large amount of blood loss.
We were trying to find out why.
The worst case scenario I had in my mind was
Placenta Previa and a necessary C-section.
It turned out that Placenta Previa would've been great news,
compared to what we got.
The tech told us our baby had something called Anencephaly.
We'd never heard of it.  What did it mean?
It meant that being born would turn out to be fatal for our baby.
He would not be able to survive for very long, once outside of my womb.

On February 6th, we found out that we would see our baby die, and soon.
We only had a few months of being able to parent Gabriel.
But we learned some life changing lessons in parenting
(and about love in general).

We loved our son.
But we also knew that our love would not change the course of his life.
Our love, as parents to child, was not about him making us proud.
Our love for him would not take away the hard stuff.
Our love for him would not make him into a better person.

Our love could only be about giving;
Genuinely giving all we had.

Sometimes we as parents, (spouses, friends, whatever),
get our actions of loved mixed up with actions of control.

We tell ourselves if we love them enough, then they'll love us enough.
If we love them enough, their life will be free from hardship.
If we love them enough, they will make all the right choices.

But not really...

Love is about giving.  It is not about results.
Love is powerful.  Don't get me wrong.
But the power of love is something we don't have much control over ourselves.
As soon as we start controlling with it, and trying to accomplish our will with it,
we aren't actually giving our heart in love anymore.

This lesson in parenting that our firstborn helped to teach us
is a key foundation for adoption.
Are we nervous about being the right parents for this child
who is currently a stranger to us?
Yes, if we're honest, we are.
Are we worried that he might have "problems"?
Are we nervous about the way he will "turn out"?
No, not really.
Not because we think he will be problem-free, and we are sure he will "turn out" well.
It's because being a parent is not about controlling the child and the end results.
But being a good parent is a lot about loving your child well.

Loving well is about giving, and not controlling what is done with that love.
Just love all the way.  Give it with joy.  We don't know what that love will accomplish.

This song, "All of Me" always reminds me of Gabriel.
Matt Hammit wrote this song when he & his wife were given a diagnosis
for their baby (still in the womb) that could be fatal.
I think the message can apply to a lot.
It's about loving all the way,
even though there is nothing sure about what the love will accomplish.

How to Help a Couple after Infant Loss

“I thought I could describe a state; make a map of sorrow. 

Sorrow, however, turns out to be not a state but a process.”

C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed 

Happy to be pregnant with Gabriel - spring 2005

We look at each other.  Tired eyes.

Tremendous love and sorrow mingling together.

We both somehow know it is time.  

We ring for the nurse & hand over our baby,

knowing we will never touch him again.

Good bye, little baby boy.

We leave the labor & delivery wing of the hospital,

no baby in our arms.

There is no need for a safety check on our infant seat.

We don't need any of the baby stuff we prepared.

All we needed was the baby casket.

Hello, outside, scary world....

Finish reading over here.
I was given the honor of writing a guest post for 
Stephanie Sheaffer at her blog Writing for Good.  
Will  you go over there & give her some comment love?

Five Minute Friday {Loss}

Gypsy Mama has given the prompt Loss for Five Minute Friday.
And, she also gave us permission to use more than five minutes...
I think I'll have to take her up on that.

Ready, Set, Write.

Sometimes our greatest gains, only come after the most significant losses.

When we had our ultrasound that showed us we would lose our firstborn child,
we also lost the ability to have naive giddiness about all our future pregnancies.
We would never again just go in for an ultrasound with light hearts.
We lost some the innocent excitement.

But with the loss, we gained greater trust.
Trust that our baby was in God's hands, no matter what.
We gained greater love.
Love that is willing to love the one who is unlovely to most.
Love that is willing to love with our whole self,
even if we know the life will be short & the heart break will be great.

We gained a small understanding of His peace.  His peace that is beyond understanding.
I don't understand it still, really.  But, I know it is great.  It is incomprehensible.

We lost some happy-go-luckiness.
We gained a longing for heaven & wholeness.
We gained insight into others pain.

I lost my perfectly happy little family dreams.
That allowed me to open my heart to the orphan.
It is okay if adoption will be a bit messy.
I know now my family wasn't meant to be sheltered from pain.
The pain of the loss of my son,
has given me courage to gain more sons (&/or daughters),
who will come to me with their own history of loss & pain.








This one took me 10 minutes.  I leave it at that.

Footprints on My Heart

Our son Gabriel was alive for only a few precious minutes after his birth.
But, I know he has left his footprint on the hearts of many.

Through his life & death, there were many people who left sweet footprints on my heart.

In memory of Gabriel's 6 year birth anniversary,
I want to publicly acknowledge some of these people.
(But I also want to say, if you are not mentioned right here, that does not at all mean I forgot you.
There were so many people who loved us so beautifully through our son's life & death.)


Rebecca Hughes
Rebecca gifted Scott & I with private birth classes.  
She loved us by giving us caring information, so we could go into our son's birth prepared.
She congratulated us in the birth of our son, before she offered sympathy for our lost.
She treated his life with dignity.

Alicia Gurnee
Alicia is a doula.  She was truly my caregiver/doula through my pregnancy with Gabriel.  
She was just "there" for me.  For whatever I needed.
She cared for me while I was on bedrest.
She took me to a scary appointment, when my family was all out of town.
She was a quiet comfort.
(btw, if you are wondering how to love someone who is grieving, 
I recommend this approach.)

Dr. Laura Diana
I am so grateful to have Dr. Diana as my OB.
I really believe she is a gift from God to me.
I had heard of her, "a nice OB in town."
I met her that night my water broke 
& we rushed to the hospital.
She was the OB on call.  
My OB was an hour away, at a different hospital.
She was so compassionate & loving toward our son
& toward Scott & I.
She has been my doctor ever since 
& has been there for each of our babies.
(Plus she is an adoptive mom.  
And she was just in Ethiopia on a missions trip last month.
And she brought me the book, 
There is No Me Without you the night Kendall was born.
And wondered out loud when I would ever get time to read it.
I haven't yet.  But I'm gonna.)

Nurses at Watsonville Hospital

Trish - my admittance nurse

We already knew Trish from church.  

She knew our story - Gabriel's story.

God gave us a wonderful gift 

to have Trish at the admittance desk that night.

We didn't have to tell the heartbreaking facts to the staff.

She did it for us.

Laura - my early labor nurse

Laura was so confident & upbeat.

She was what I needed.

I was nervous, unsure, sad…

She was a strength for us.

She told us she was blessed to be our nurse

& she imparted some of her confidence to us.

Heidi - my post delivery nurse

Heidi was tender & compassionate.

She gave us space & time to grieve with our son.

I don’t think I’ll forget her soft spoken kindnesses.

And, I won’t forget how she stood strong for us

when we were ready to give up Gabriel’s body.

She would not allow the nurse who came,

 to wheel him off in a cart, as she had intended.

Heidi firmly told that young lady to carry him.

Carry this sweet body in your arms.  Do not wheel him out of here.

These nurses were a gift to us. Each respectful, kind & strong women.

God gives tender mercies, even through the deep valleys of pain.

I am grateful. 

Talking to Youngsters About Death & other Awful Stuff

What do you say to a young child about death?

For now, everyone feels pain & sadness because of sin.  

effects are everywhere.  

"All of creation groans and suffers."

 Bad things happen.  People get sick.  

Baby birds fall out of their nests.  Some people go hungry.

Sometimes, little babies die.

This place doesn't have dead people.  

This is where we come to remember the ones who have died.

The stone is a remembrance of your brother.  

Like the cross is a remembrance of Jesus.

Someday, when we are with Jesus, there will be no more reasons to cry, 

no more pain, no more sickness, no more hunger & no more death.

We want to use our real life to teach our kids about real life.

Gillian is starting to understand.
She understands memorials or remembrances.
And she understands a little about heartbreak
(when you are really, really sad)
& a little bit about pain
(it's like when you have really bad red blood, right?)
She asked us if her brother is now a really big man
who is standing with Jesus right now.  

This Week Five Years Ago...

...Our first child was born, with Anencephaly.  

If you've never heard of Anencephaly, you are not alone.  My spell check doesn't recognize the word. 

A little more than 5 years ago, I had never heard of it either.  

When the ultrasound technician said the word to me, I didn't know what it meant.

  

If you Google the word, the main thing you will get is cold medical terminology.  You may find out that some very educated people don't think that anencephalic babies have any life in them.  There is a lot you can read & lot you probably shouldn't read.  If you are searching for information about Anencephaly, I think the only place you need to go is Anencephaly.info

During the bittersweet months of being pregnant with our son, Gabriel, we learned a lot about life- even more about its preciousness.  He was so active & lively.  He was crazier in utero than his younger siblings.  Sometimes it was like he was break dancing.  Or practicing gymnastics.   

Anencephaly is always fatal.  That is a factual truth.  But, prior to the death, there was life.  Our baby was alive.  He even held on through the hardship of being born.  

We welcomed a child into this world, 5 years ago.

We even received a note of congratulations.

Gabriel Scott Adams was alive; even if for only a few minutes after birth.

If you are carrying a baby diagnosed with Anencephaly, I would love to talk with you.  Or maybe you gave birth & have already had to say good bye to your baby.  If you want to talk to someone, let me know.

I Get Teary A Lot

Some things that make me cry

Billy Joel's Goodnight Saigon

And it was dark.
So dark at night
And we held onto each other
Like brother to brother
We promised our mothers we'd write
And we would all go down together ...



Reading profiles for "waiting children", little orphan babies with severe special needs.

Watching TLC's "Hoarders: Buried Alive" 
(It made me want to become a psychologist.  Ha!)

Reading Julia Child's introduction to "My Life in France".

Thinking of my firstborn, who was born & buried 5 years ago.

Trying to fathom how great my Heavenly Father's love is.

Flashback Friday

This flashback is on the somber, teary side. It's 5 years old. It's something that has been on my mind lately.

5 years ago I was a newlywed wife, newly pregnant, newly grieving. This picture is us Scott & I, a couple weeks before the birth & death of our first child.

February, 5 years ago, began with me on serious bedrest. My new husband lay on the floor next to the couch every night, trying to sleep, but wondering why I was bleeding so much & hoping I wouldn't die. After a week of bedrest, we had an ultrasound. We didn't find the specific answer to why I was bleeding. But, we found out something else. We found out our baby had something called Anencephaly. And, we were told it is 100% fatal.

We were shocked, stunned. We had never heard of this. What was it? It is fatal for sure? Was the ultrasound tech right?

He was right. This was really happening to us. Our baby was not going to live. We were greatly grieved. There is much I could say about grief. But, that is perhaps for another time.

What I have been thinking about is something a little different. I have been thinking about, when we are face to face with great troubles, our priorities are often re-ordered.

Ours were. It didn't bother me anymore if Scott wore his muddy boots into the house, or emptied dirt from his pant cuff onto my clean floor. Morning sickness wasn't something I complained about. I was glad for it. We were able to see things from an eternal perspective. We had a very limited time with our dear baby. We needed to cherish it. Why grumble about the trivial?

I thought that this new perspective was a blessing that we had to keep. That now we would always be well aware of having our priorities straight. But, how quickly we forget. I don't forget Gabriel. Each time we find out that I am pregnant, we wonder if this new baby is okay, wonder if this new life will be so short as our first child's.

I remember certain things.

But, it was way too easy for me to forget to keep that eternal perspective. I get upset with my kids for squealing too loud & waking the baby. And, at that moment, I forget to rejoice that I have happy, healthy children. I get irritated when juice is spilled all over the floor I just mopped, and then stepped in and tromped all over the place.

I read this birth story yesterday. And, while reading more of this woman's blog, I got a good reminder from her.

I pray that God will keep me more & more mindful of what matters.

4 Years Ago

We made our yearly visit to the cemetery where we buried Gabriel 4 years ago. Because of having to reign the other munchkins in & such, the visit was shorter than it has been in the past. But, still a special time for us to remember our firstborn.

Grief & Wendell Berry

I recently finished an excellent book by Wendell Berry - A Place on Earth. It is an amazing novel & I highly recommend it.
I was thinking on it this morning. Thinking about grief. Specifically losing a child. I am sure most of you know of the death of Steven Curtis Chapman's youngest daughter. You can read the tragic story all over the internet.
Anyway, I was thinking about them, praying for them. ...thinking about what a complicated emotion grief is. And, just thinking about a lot of heavy things from the last few days. My little brother fighting the summit wildfire, my parent's home being in close proximity to it...
How does the Chapman story relate to Wendell Berry, you ask? One of the story threads in the book is a family whose son is away at war. At the beginning of the story, they are notified that he is MIA. Berry takes us through their time of processing this information, and the various forms of grief that the family members experience. I was so struck by this conversation, between the husband & wife. I need to share -

Mat & Margaret are on the porch, watching their daughter-in-law play with some of the grandkids...

...And the Margaret asks: "What are you thinking about, Mat?"

The question startles him, for he gathers from the tone of her voice that she knows what he is thinking, and asks with daring and with fear.

"Loss" he says...

...He looks at Margaret, meeting her eyes.

"Loss. It singles us out."

She smiles at him, shaking her head. And he realizes that the singleness he is talking about never has belonged to her. She has been without even the comfort of that - not single and whole, but broken. He grows ashamed of his bitterness. He too is broken, as he has been, and has known, all along - that singleness of his attempt, typical of him, to prescribe terms to the world. The loser prescribes no terms.

"Mat, when we've lost it all, we've had what we've lost."

"But to lose it. Isn't there anything in you that rebels against that?"

She looks steadily at him, considering that - whether unsure of her answer or unwilling to answer too readily, he cannot tell. He is aware that Margaret it trying him, drawing deliberately at the bindings between them, as he tried her with his singleness.

"No," she says.

"None at all?"

"Virgil, " she says, as if to remind or acknowledge what they are talking about. "From the day he was born I knew he would die. That was how I loved him, partly. I'd brought him into the world that would give him things to love, and take them away. You too, Mat. You knew it. I knew so well that he would die that, when he did disappear from us the way he did, I was familiar with the pain. I'd had it in me all his life."

....

The story continues with more profound writings. You'll have to read it. But, I think these words from Margaret are incredible. I have had a similar feeling toward my children, after God teaching me this lesson so plainly with Gabriel. But I could have never shared this thought so beautifully as she (or Wendell, really...).

Forget-Me-Not

Saturday was the 3rd anniversary of our son Gabriel's birth & passing. We drove over to the cemetery where we buried his body. That is always a special time for us.

I thought I'd share a favorite scripture passage, that became especially important to me while I was pregnant with Gabriel.

2 Corinthians 4:7-10

"But we have this treasure in earthen vessels,

that the surpassing greatness of the power may be of God & not we ourselves;

We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed;

perplexed, but not despairing;

persecuted, but not forsaken;

struck down, but not destroyed;

always carrying about in our body the dying of Jesus,

that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our body."

Two Years

It was 2 years ago today, when our son Gabriel went home to be with Jesus.

In memory of him, here is our special verse for Gabriel -

Psalm 139:16
"Thine eyes have seen my unformed substance;
And in Thy book they were all written,
The days that were ordained for me,
When as yet there was not one of them."