Please Pray.

My friend has headed to the hospital to give birth to her precious girl. Please pray that she will be OK. That God in His sovereignty would keep her here for as long as possible. If it be a few minutes, a few years, or 80 years, pray that His will would be done and that her mommy and daddy and family would be surrounded by the presence of God and know that He is there with them.

Thank you...

Adios mi amigos!

Well, for the last few months I have laughed and cried with you all. Mostly cried. Now, I will be blogging on a different page. I will come back occasionally and post if there is something I need to say about Phoenix. He'll be mentioned in the other blog too. He IS after all, a part of the family. The new blog is www.wildfamilychronicles.blogspot.com. You should visit. You can click below on "The Call of The Wild". I couldn't include Cook anywhere... they were all taken. It's like Smith or something. (:

I am truly grateful that you have taken the time to listen. It means the world to me. Really.

Until later...

You give and take away

This Sunday at church we sang this song. Many of you are familiar with it. It is the one that I literally choked on if we sang it while I was pregnant with Phoenix. But, for the last year, I've been able to get through it. However, this Sunday,it about did me in. My friend that I mentioned before who is carrying her precious little girl... she is around 38 weeks pregnant now... was standing just a few rows in front of me when they began singing this song. "Blessed be your name when the road's filled with suffering, though there's pain in the offering, blessed be your name. You give and take away, You give and take away, my heart will choose to say, Lord blessed be your name." Once again, I choked on the words. I know, like me, my friend has chosen to continue praising God in the middle of her most desperate time and she was singing the song with all of her heart. But, I have not been given the strength right now and I am not able to bear the thought again. A precious amazing baby, that she might have to say goodbye to. It is too much.

God really is amazing. I had the strength for the road I was on (for that matter, the one I am on today.), but I don't have the strength for someone else's road. I am not handling it well. I was reading some web sites of some other precious babies that I know whose parents have decided to blog about them. Babies with Trisomy 18 that they have lost. Wow. I really just couldn't take it. I cried and cried. My son kept saying, "Mom, just click on the little red dot up there and stop reading!" I couldn't... I'm amazed that people read my story, it is so painful to imagine what these people have gone through. I look at Forest and I think, no way... no way, could a loving God ask us to give up a child.

Yet, I know, He did it first. How? How did he? How can any of us? I don't know. I did it, and I still don't know. I look back and I don't know how I am here today, and doing anything more than just "surviving". Thanks for going there with me. It has been and still is healing for me.

Not the end...

No, August 9th was not the end. In so many ways. It was the beginning of Phoenix's precious eternal life in heaven... with my Grandmother and my 2 uncles and his 3 other brothers or sisters that we lost too early to know. It was the beginning of a family that never takes each other for granted again. It was the beginning of a new kind of life for me. The kind of life where you have one foot on earth and one foot in heaven. I love being here with my children and husband. Dearly love it! But, I also LONG for heaven. It is a very real aching in my heart. That ache reminds me where my true citizenship lies. Yes, I already "knew" that before. I grew up in a Baptist church. Of course I knew that. (: But, I did not understand. You can't really until someone you love so much... is there. Then you find yourself going to bed sometimes, wishing you could wake up in heaven. Not in a weird fatalistic way... I just would love to be there. I can't wait to be there and hold Phoenix in his little perfectly healed body. I truly miss him. Every day I miss him. Every day, I'm a little bit sad. Every day there is a hole in my heart. But it's OK. "Pain is God's megaphone to rouse a deaf and dying world". I have been roused... thank you Lord. Thank you.

August 9, 2005

Well, I have delayed the inevitable for as long as possible. For a few days now, I've been reliving this date over and over, trying to figure out how I can tell you all about it without it being so painful, for me or for you (the reader). I came to the conclusion that I just have to tell it how it is (and was) and hope that you can handle it. If you can't, you probably stopped reading this blog long ago. (:

We were all sitting on the couch as a family, watching a movie. I don't recall which one. We've seen everything there is to see I think. I was thinking of how uncomfortable I was (as usual) and noticing that I was having a few contractions. I was only 30 weeks pregnant, so I was certainly hoping that it was nothing. My tummy was just like a huge balloon, blown up full of fluid. Sweet Phoenix was so little, but my tummy was HUGE. With all of that fluid, it was hard to tell when I was having a contraction. So, really, I had no warning. I walked down the hall to tuck the kids into bed. As I was standing in their doorway, opening a candy wrapper...

my water broke.

Uummm, what now?

I stood there shocked. Fluid just began to pour. I didn't move. I told Parker to get me some towels. He came back with a hand towel. (: Sweet boy. "No," I said, "I mean like 3 beach towels." So, he came back with them a couple of minutes later. My husband called my parents and I went to the shower. I rinsed off, threw a few things in a bag and off we went to the hospital. The kids were in my parents car and we were in a separate car.
By the time we got there, I was bleeding...alot. I pretty much lost it. The nurse got me in a wheelchair, took us into a room, and handed me a gown. I went to the rest room to change and at the sight of so much blood, I immediately began sobbing. My husband was on the other side of the door, saying "please, don't cry."
I know he wanted to make it better. It couldn't be done.
I got into the bed and they hooked me up to the monitor.

No heartbeat.

My sweet boy was already gone.

Well, it seems like that is the end of the story to me. He was gone. Just as if someone sucked the air right out of my lungs. How did they expect me to go on? Now, I had to labor all night and bleed, and know that my baby boy was gone. Unbelievable. Really, I remember thinking, I just can't do this, I just can't. I really can't. I would just look at people, thinking, they really don't think I can do this do they???

It turns out, I had a placental abruption. Apparently from all of the fluid going out so quickly. That was the cause of all the bleeding. It also made labor pretty brutal. The contractions were accompanied by some very sharp pains. Finally, a few hours later, they talked me into an epidural and I went to sleep. I definitely needed that.
I woke up much calmer and he was ready to be born. He was only 2 pounds and came quite easily. They cleaned him up and handed him to us. The minute the nurses saw him they let out an "ahh, so sweet". He was. So very sweet. So very cute. So very gone.
I held him and loved on him. The kids held him. My husband held him. They moved me to my own private corner room and let us have him for however long we wanted. Family came. They held him. We were all so quiet. It was strange. I held him as long as I could. Then it hit me. He wasn't there. I knew, he was with Jesus. I had to let them take him. I could be the only one to make the decision. No one would have made me. It was time. So, we called the nurse and told her we were ready. Well, I wasn't really ready.

I watched them bundle him up and walk away.
I laid there in my bed so helpless.
I would have jumped up and fought them and told them nevermind if I had been able. Instead I just laid there and started sobbing. My chest was heaving up and down and I was crying the hardest I had ever cried in my life. Amazingly enough, it was a silent cry excepting a few sighs and sniffs. It was contagious. It filled the room. It was too much to bear. If I had been one of the family members, I would have run! Far away. I mean it was just TOO much. I looked over at my husband and my sweet kids. They were in so much pain too. No one had anything to offer anyone. We were all suffering, alone. Just in the same room.

Later, when everyone had left...I decided I needed to go. If he was not there anymore, I had no reason to be. I wanted to be home. There was no comfort. Anywhere I went, I felt empty, lost and alone. Home didn't help. It was so wrong to come home without him. It was all so quick. How could he really be gone?

...kleenex break...

OK, I think I've pulled it together again. There really is no poetic way to tell about that day. It is only the facts of the day, and pain. That's it. Nothing else. I tell you that so you can know...I hit bottom. The calm happy person that many of you see DID hit bottom. Really, understanding that helps you to understand how BIG God is. Only HE could take a pain so huge and make it better. A wound so gaping wide and waiting to be infected with bitterness and anger...made better.

The day I arrived home was a blur. I went to bed. I spent most of my time on the couch or in bed. My constant companion was the kleenex box. My husband took care of details. He spoke with the funeral home, talked to our pastor, picked out his head stone...all kinds of things that I just couldn't do. I imagine he didn't really have the strength either... but he did it.
We went to the funeral home to discuss arrangements. They did his funeral and burial free of charge. The sweet man asked me if I had another outfit that I wanted to put on him or if I wanted to wash the one he had been in because it was soiled. Sounds strange I know, but I wanted to wash it. It was the one and only thing I could do for my boy. I washed that little outfit at least 3 times. I cried and washed it, and held it. WOW. What a blessing. I got to do his laundry. You really can't understand I'm sure, but it was such a blessing to me. I have a new perspective on laundry. If I have laundry to do, that means I have kids who are alive and well and out busily getting their clothes dirty. That IS GOOD.
If only I could KEEP doing Phoenix's laundry...