Control

Okay, so, it´s been 12 days since I last wrote. Is this a sign of things to come? I hope not. I hope I can be consistent in writing about my experience as I process the loss of our daughter. I´ve been busy the last few days though. Doing what? I don´t know, really.

Starting to think about our return to Sant Vicenç. We´ve been renting an apartment closer to Barcelona the last 2 years....but we had made a decision when we moved here that if our apartment in Sant Vicenç doesn´t sell after 2 years, we´ll move back. Of course, in light of the economy, especially the real estate world, noone even looked at it while it was on the market. We had know idea of all that we would pass through during our time in our temporary home.

The truth is that this move comes at a good time for me. It´s a distraction from wallowing in depression. It´s a new project. When we first moved there, we just stuffed all of our belongings (mostly mine) into that little apartment. It was crowded and a bit hodge podge. We´d like to try to organize, throw out, update and decorate to create a welcoming, homey environment. Neither of us is very talented at decorating, though, so we´ll see how this goes.

It is a small apartment, though, so I´m starting to think more about how to reduce and how to better organize the things we do have before we buy other things. Whether it´s effectively folding clothes, boxing cleaning products, discovering unused space, it´s definitely keeping me busy. It´s also giving me some semblance of control (possilby a false sense of control) in my what could be out of control circumstances. This could be good--I´m starting to notice things I never saw before...wrinkled clothes, disorderly cabinets....but it could also be bad--returning to the inaccurate idea that I have any control over circumstances

In reality, it is God who is control. Good thing! So, I´m trying to become a wise steward of the space and the possesions God has given us without obsessing over it all.

I have a renewed level of energy after such a difficult pregnancy, but I´m still super-tired at the end of the days. Is it that I´m tired or that I´m depressed and supressing it? Don´t know. All I know is that I fall asleep when I put Aaron to bed at 8:30-9pm.

In other "news," I´ve started reading a book that I ordered a few weeks ago. It´s called Holding On To Hope by Nancy Guthrie. She lost 2 children in two separate pregnancies to the same rare disease, Zellweger Syndrome. The book is a reflection on issues of grief: loss, tears, worship, gratitude, blame, suffering, despair, why?, eternity, comforters, mystery, sumission and intimacy, using the story of Job as a backdrop for her reflections. The book includes an 8-week Bible study on the book of Job. Her book is just a 102 pages, in addition to Scripture references and the Bible study in the back. I´m more than halfway through. It´s good so far. She definitely can speak with authority on these topics. It´s a very logical book, focusing on truth, not so much on feelings. It helps to put the feelings that come (when they come) into perspective.



I´m still feeling pretty numb, like everything was a dream. Did that really happen? But I suppose this is normal. I´m hoping to feel something again soon.

Spring is about to be sprung here where I live. The sun shines a bit brighter in Spain these days. The days last a little longer. That has to bring a little added joy to these days, right? I hope so.

Dialogues

Just jumping around tonight on different topics related to Trisomy 18 and somehow found this song by Chris Rice, "Baby Take Your Bow," which probably had nothing to do with Trisomy 18 when it was written...but it sounds like a sweet song of release of a child who has gone home to heaven early. 

I´d like to develop more conversation, more dialogues, WITH Rebeca (although she´s no longer here.) I think it would help me process more. I feel like I did know her more than anyone else because of her movement while in the womb....but I didn´t get to know her for very long, so relationship with her and relating to her takes more work.  

This song helps me to think more about who she was and who she might have become. It aids my ongoing desire to celebrate her and my my eventual need to release her to Jesus´ almighty care. It facilitates my communication toward her. I´m not ready to let her go yet. I feel like I haven´t even grabbed hold of her yet....but I´ll get there one day.

"Baby Take Your Bow" by Chris Rice

We´re gonna miss your song and dance,

The way you made us laugh;

And we´re so glad we had the pleasure for a while,

But on the other side, you´ll find a better audience.

Just be yourself and you can´t help but make the angels smile.

Baby all the world´s a stage.

Playwright pens your final page

And then He brings your curtain down.

So blow us your kisses and drench our eyes.

We´ll rise to our feet to wave goodbye for now.

So baby take your bow.

The world is lovelier because you had your moment here

And we could see a friend of heaven in your face

And in your song we heard the longing for a distant shore.

Now your time has come to go

And so be on your way.

Baby, all the world´s a stage.

Playwright pens your final page

And then He brings your curtain down.

So blow us your kisses and drench our eyes.

We´ll rise to our feet to wave goodby for now.

So baby take your bow.

Your show is over now.

It´s time to lay your burdens down.

So baby take your bow.

Another gift that had a great impact on me was a letter to her mother written from the point of view of baby who has passed away, a message of love from baby to mommy. This was sent to me by another mother here in Spain who lost her son to Trisomy 18 just after he was born. This Trisomy 18 mommy sent the message to me 2 days after I found out that Rebeca Grace had died. (I have included my English translation here with the original Spanish version below.)

Who knows what the real Rebeca might have said to me...but I can take this as a model and imagine her little heart and all the freedom she must be experiencing now. I receive it as an encouragement and a reminder that she was a real person and that I will meet her again one day, face-to-face.

Mommy, 

I´m writing to tell you that I am fine. I am complete. I took off the costume of a body that I wore and now I am light, like a little sun. I don´t need a body to feel you. I see from my heart. Words are not necessary. Now I see the immense love that there is in you and in all beings. I am outside of time. I don´t measure whether my time with you was short or long. For me it was just precious. My stroll through life was just as it should have been. I came to learn and to teach others.

And you, Mommy, what have you learned after all of this? When I left, everything seemed dark to you, but I made sure that my love would be the light that illumines your heart for always. Now you are going to begin to see tht you are very strong. You still have so much to give during your lifetime. There are souls that love you and need you. You are full of love to give. 

The best gift you can give me is to not hide and waste your life, crying, lamenting over why I am not there. I don´t want to come back. I am full of peace. I don´t need you to dress yourself in darkness nor to walk around in sadness. If you are, it´s only because you are thinking about your sadness or your pain; but beyond, where I am, there is only happiness and love. 

Each morning I want you to think, "The world needs me. I´m going to give testimony TODAY of the love I feel for my daughter. I will be brave and I will try to move forward, sharing all the light that I can."

Your life has great meaning. I know that your great pain will slowly, slowly be transformed into a true miracle. The caterpillar wasn´t born to be a caterpillar nor to grieve its great pain, hidden in its cocoon. The caterpillar gives itself up to love. And the GOD who is love ensures that this creature that dragged itself heavy and upside down will soon fly freely and discover the beauty of life. 

I know that not a day will pass when you don´t miss me. I know that you will think of me again and again. I know that these dates each year will be difficult....but I love you! LIVE! Breathe, feel, converse, give love, laugh, become a little girl again! I hope that my departure doesn´t fill your life and transform you into a shadow of what you once were when we were together. You are in the world. You have a mission to complete. Never forget that you are unique and irreplaceable.

Mamá:

Te escribo para decirte que estoy bien, plena. Me saqué el disfraz de persona. Ahora soy luz, como un pequeño solcito. No necesito cuerpo para sentirte. Veo desde mi corazón. Ya no me hacen falta la palabras. Ahora veo el inmeno amor que hay en tí y en todos los seres. Estoy fuera del tiempo. No mido si mi tiempo contigo fue corto o largo. Para mí fue precioso. Mi paso por la vida fue tal como debió ser. Vine a aprender y a hacer aprender a los demás.

Y tú, Mamá ¿qué has aprendido después de todo esto? Cuando me fui, todo te pareció oscuro, pero yo me encargué que mi amor fuera la luz que iluminara tu corazón para siempre. Ahora vas a comenzar a ver que eres muy fuerte. Pues, tienes mucho que aportar allá en tu vida. Hay almoas que te aman y te necesitan. Tú estás llena de amor para dar.

El mejor regalo para mí es que no te escondas y "desperdicies" tu vida, llorando, lamentándote porque no estoy. Yo no quiero volver. Estoy llena de paz. Yo no necesito que te vistas de oscuro ni que andes triste. Si lo estás, es que sólo piensas en tu pena o en tu dolor. Pues, allí donde estoy solo existe alegría y amor. Cada mañana piensa: "El mundo me necesita. Voy a dar testimonio HOY del amor que siento por mi hija. Seré valiente y trataré de seguir adelante dando toda la luz que pueda."

Tu vida tiene un sentido. Tu dolor enorme sé que se va a transformar lentamente en un verdadero milagro. La oruga no nació para ser oruga y quedarse llorando el dolor, escondido en un capullo. La oruga se entrega al amor de cuerpo y alma; y ese DIOS que es todo amor hace que ese ser que se arrastraba pesado y cabizbajo pueda volar liviano y descubrir la belleza de la vida. Sé qu eno existiría un día en que yo no te haga falta, que me recordarás a cada rato, que las fechas te van a costar. Pero yo te quiero. VIVA. ¡Respira, siente, conversa, entrega amor, ríete, vuelve a ser niña! Que mi partida no te llene la vida y te transformes en una sombre de lo que fuiste cuando estábamos juntas. Tú estás en el mundo. Tienes una misión que cumplir. Nunca lo olvides que eres única y irrepetible.

It´s About That Time

So, my medical leave has come to an end. It´s been 18 days since I delivered our little girl.

Delivering a baby, by the way, in Spanish, is called "giving light" or "giving the light." Not quite sure why it´s called that. (Might be an interesting thing to research.) I wonder if they still use that phrase when the baby is stillborn. When we were making plans to go to the hospital after the baby died, the doctors used the word "expulse."

I´ve been up and down, busy with Aaron, trying to feel, to process this strange nightmare-like/dream-like experience, and mostly just walking around with a negative-ness clinging as a backdrop. I am starting to return this week to some of the normal activities of my life. It is a good thing. I think if it weren´t a necessity, I might continue to stay isolated for weeks or months to come.

Last night I returned to the new-found practice that I started in January, inspired by Ann Voskamp, of writing down blessings, things I´m thankful for. I realized that in the wake of Rebeca´s departure, drained of energy and motivation, I stopped. Time stopped. While the pause is understandable, I think it´s healthy and even important to look for gifts at all times, but especially in times like these, times of trauma, times of being lost.

So, I resume....

*the plastic cover on Aaron´s stroller on a cold, windy day
*lentil vinagrette salad
*red tulips from Ruben, delivered by Aaron
*mashed potatoes with cheddar cheese on top
*laughing with Aaron at the "burping ostrich"
*blooming rosemary
*sunset at Tibidabo
*cuddling for story time

Looking, searching, watching....while I´m still lacking motivation to do great, deep Biblical studies at this time, I can still hunt for His blessings in my surroundings, in my day-to-day.

Last night I cried myself to sleep, hugging a little pink blanket that was given to us for Rebeca. I think tonight I will do the same. Where is the end of this road of grief? Where is the light at the end of this deep, heavy tunnel of lostness? Its beginning is now, just starting, with many steps to go, maybe the rest of my life. Its end? I don´t know.....but I choose to walk through this darkness, grasping for His hand, searching for His face.

Heavenly Father, who too lost a child, Your precious and only Son, I draw near to You, knowing that You understand, You care and You carry me. Thank You for being close to me. Amen.

Living With Trisomy 18

March is Trisomy 18 Awareness Month. Before I got pregnant with Rebeca, I had never heard of Trisomy 18. Since she did not survive, it looks like we won´t live with Trisomy 18 on a day-to-day, lifelong basis.

While Rebeca didn´t survive to birth, there ARE children who not only survive, but continue to live on long past the expected time marked out by the doctors. The following is one such story, a story about Kayden who is 10-years-old now, and his mother, who is working to carve out a new space for Kayden and other disabled children to play in Baxter County, Arkansas.

Sharing the Mix

How am I doing? I´m hanging in there. I´m feeling a mix of emotions and experiences. Mostly I think I´m just walking through the days right now with not a lot of time to reflect and feel, although it seeps out in the most surprising moments.

I definitely feel so cared for: I´ve received cards, flowers, emails, Facebook messages, phone calls, home-cooked meals, personal visits. Thanks for checking in with us to see how we´re doing.

I haven´t written in my blog for about 7 days now. I just don´t know where to start, don´t know exactly what to share. I actually have a number of different experiences from the last 10 days scribbled out on to the backs of shopping receipts found in my wallet so that I might share them at a later date, if nothing else, so as not to forget them in the future. However, right now, demotivation is starting to hit. There´s a part of me that is grieving...and I need to grieve; but I don´t seem to have a lot of time to do it...and I´m also trying to find the balance so as not to fall into self-pity and the woe-is-me trap.

It´s a strange feeling. I get sad....and want to be sad for a while....then I remember all the things I remembered as we waited for Rebeca´s going-home day to arrive....all the truth that she is now well, that I will see her again one day, that the Lord is taking care of her. I also continue to think of all the moms around the world that have had to watch their children die from hunger, from war situations, from illnesses, etc. It´s hard to feel too sorry for myself then.

Yesterday I was quite sad (and still in a bit of physical pain). I told Ruben that my mind understands why Rebeca Grace did not survive. Trisomy 18 totally messed up her development and her body just wasn´t able to sustain her....but my heart, my heart does not understand. I really wish I could hold her, could know her more. *Sigh* These desires will have to wait for heaven....and it´s the delay, the missing,that makes me sad, as well as the suffering that she might have experienced....but she was just arriving at the "age" or gestation of beginning to feel pain (26 weeks). Maybe that´s why she didn´t live longer. Who knows?

At any rate, I want to try to find the balance of remembering and celebrating her and living differently because of her and not waivering to the one side of depression nor to the other side of just forgetting and moving on as if nothing happened. It´s sort of a weird situation.

Yesterday, I was also quite angry for no apparent reason. Poor Ruben. Pray that I would not take anything else out on him. It was just a moment....but I was angry at him for nothing that he did. I also raised my voice with Aaron when he threw his food on the floor. He started crying because I yelled at him and I started crying because I yelled at him and because my heart hurts and is just not sure how to feel.

I´ve been granted a short leave-of-absence for medical reasons (just time enough to heal up physcially). During this time, the state pays your income. Of course, since it´s just 10-day leave I don´t know how much it will help to have the state pay me :-) and since I´m mostly at home anyway, my life hasn´t changed much with medical leave or no medical leave. I will need to get back to my normal routine, although there is not a great desire to get back to normal life just yet.

During these days, I have been able to spend time with Ruben and Aaron. I´ve also been able to do a bit of reading.

In the last month I´ve received a couple of books: Silent Grief by Clara Hinton and  A Shelter in the Time of Storm, Meditations on God and trouble by Paul David Tripp.

In addition, I just received a link from a friend about a lady named Nancy Guthrie who lost TWO of her children to a rare disease, each one died after living for about 6 months. Below is a video of a 1 1/2 hour interview with Guthrie on Suffering, Hope and the Centrality of Christ with Nancy Guthrie from John Piper´s website, Desiring God.


I´ve been listening to the interview as I´ve been writing. I´ve been able to relate to a lot of what she says.  It´s been encouraging and confirming. Around the 30-minute mark, she makes a statement about faith that has really encouraged me regarding how we´ve been facing our journey with Rebeca:

"Faith is not always defined by the ability to work up fervor to believe God to do a miracle; but that faith is trusting God to do what is right....I think real faith is submitting to what God wants."

She also mentions how sorrow and joy can co-exist. She also mentions the reality that faith does not take away pain. She also talks about grief and how dealing with it has adapted over the years.

Based on the things I´ve read and heard about child loss and grieving, there  are some dark days yet ahead. Deep grief often takes 6 months to a year to set in. Nice.

We still need to collect Rebeca´s ashes from the funeral home and decide what to do with them. She was delivered on a Friday. We made the arrangements at the funeral home on the way home from hospital on Saturday. The director mentioned that her ashes would be ready to collect on the following Tuesday afternoon. He also mentioned that we would have 90 days to collect them. I thought, "We don´t need 90 days. We´ll be here on Tuesday afternoon."

Tuesday at 7:30pm was the day that I had to run to the emergency room in search of a prescription for antibiotics for the urinary tract infection that I thought I had (which, in the end, I did not have.) I waited for 4 hours to see the doctor. While I waited, I read 3/4 of the book Silent Grief. It was helpful to prepare for the reality that maybe noone will be able to care quite as deeply as Ruben and I will in this situation because they might be limited in their ability to understand.

Then, around 11:30pm I was hit with the reality that I FORGOT about Rebeca´s ashes. I was so sad! When I crawled into bed around 2:30am, Ruben woke up and I told him, "We forgot..." He actually didn´t forget, but in the midst of the busyness, he decided that we could wait. Even her father remembered. How could I have forgotten her? Her mommy? The only remains of her? So, the reality of the 90 days is definitely necessary, definitely needed. We haven´t scheduled a day to pick up the ashes yet, let alone plan out any kind of memorial or celebration of life, but we will. Once we get to that day I´ll let you know.

Aaron´s waking up so I´ll stop for now. Feel free to keep checking in. If I don´t answer the phone right now, don´t worry. I´m not suicidal. I just don´t feel like talking right now. Thanks for keeping up with the process. I appreciate you.

Not Sure What To Do

I was aching yesterday and fearing that it was a urinary tract infection (I had one last June that was horrible!) I ran to the emergency room last night to check and get antibiotics if necessary to nip it in the bud. I waited 4 hours to be seen by a doctor.

Finally at midnight they called my name. They tested the urine and it came back clean. The doctor said that because of the delivery I´d had just a few days ago, she wanted the gynocologist to look at me. So, I waited another hour. The gynocologist could not find anything wrong. They took a blood sample and that came back fine, only indicating possible inflammation, which is normal after a delivery.

I finally got home around 2:30 am. Ruben had left me a salad so I ate that before going to bed around 3am.

So, today I feel bad physically, the worst I´ve felt since going in to deliver Rebeca Grace. Ruben has to go to work this afternoon and won´t be back ´til tonight. I´m not sure how I´m going to take care of Aaron today. We´ll see what happens.

Reaching Up To The Sky

Friday was delivery day. I didn´t sleep much the night before because I was trying to get last-minute communications out and tend to details for Aaron before leaving in the morning.

By God´s grace, Aaron slept a bit later that morning and I was able to shower in peace. (Oh how I needed a shower before heading out the door!) As I climbed into the shower, the Lord brought a powerful image to my mind regarding Rebeca´s homegoing that I wanted to share with you.

There is a great tradition that started in Tarragona, Catalunya toward the end of the 18th century called "castells" or castle-building. It is really impressive to watch the teams as the come together to build their human towers. I´ve always liked watching the "casteller" events because they are a great illustration of the power of teamwork. There is a HUGE group called a "pinya" of strong, beefy-looking adults at the base of the tower. Then, lighter, very agile young people continue to climb higher and higher, building floor upon floor of this human tower, until the smallest of the group, the "enxaneta" (often a little girl), reaches the top with her hand raised high to the roaring applause of all the crowd and the great pride of the castle-building club.

(An English report from the BBC can be seen here Catalonia´s Human Towers)

The images hold even more meaning for me now because they represent the many people, including you, that have helped to form the "pinya" or the support group at the base of Rebeca Grace´s tower through short prayers, labored prayers, kind words, thoughtful gifts, prepared food, hugs and faithful accompanying. With this base and the additional floors, we built a castle to help Rebeca Grace reach its top, to be ushered in to her home in heaven, where she is with Jesus, where she is healed of Trisomy 18, where she is now free to run and play and climb and rejoice. And there is MUCH, MUCH celebration!

Thank you for being a part of this with us! You have supported us. You have wept with us. You have encouraged us. You have cheered us on.

Below is a clip from a documentary created to display the incredible courage and determination of these castle-builders. With it I have posted the translated lyrics (to English and to Spanish) of the song in the background, "Enxaneta." While I watch in tears, thinking of my precious the little girl that I will never hold (this side of heaven), I truly do celebrate for her. I´m so proud, so proud of her to have run the course until the Lord said it was time to come home, as proud as any mother is of these little ones climbing to the tops of these castles. I´m so  happy for her to have finished her race so well!

May these images bring you great joy and celebration for you, my dear teammate, for helping us get this far in our journey with Rebeca Grace.

"Enxaneta" by  Borja Penalba

Hugging the body of the tree, I look to the sky.
The noise becomes silence in my interior.
Through my hands flows the sap that nurtures me
from an ancient history that has conquered time.
A group, a feeling, walks with me.
One heart, from the support base to the top.
Beating, it pushes me with great strength like the wind
and flying toward the clouds I touch the sky.
Raise your hand. Seize the world. Look around you.
Can you feel the peace?
Raise your hand. Touch the sky.
Raise your hand. We´re going to be here with you.
We are the celebration. We are a people on the move.
We raise castles from the dreams of the people.
From the base, firm and strong, is born a trunk,
and way at the top of the tree, I have no fear....


"Enxaneta" (Borja Penalba) 

Abrazada al cuerpo del árbol miro al cielo.
El ruido se convierte en silencio en mi interior.
Por las manos fluye la savia que me nutre
De una antigua historia que ha vencido el tiempo.
 Un grupo, un sentimiento, camina conmigo.
Un solo corazón desde la crossa* hasta la cima.
Latiendo, me empuja con fuerza como el viento
Y despegando hacia las nubes, toco el cielo.
Levanta la mano, Apodérate del mundo, Mira alrededor.
¿Puedes sentir la felicidad?
 Levanta la mano, Toca el cielo
Levanta la mano, Nosotros vamos a estar aquí contigo.
Somos la fiesta, somos un pueblo en movimiento,
Levantamos castillos de los sueños de la gente.
De la pinya**, firme y fuerte, nace el tronco,
Y subida arriba del árbol, no tengo miedo...

 * crossa: grupo de castellers que refuerzan la parte baja. ** pinya: base del castell.

Choosing To Magnify the Bigger Reality

Okay...so, while I could never compare myself to Job, I´m started to wonder how he might have felt.

As I write, my mouth is filled with sores and my lip is numb from multiple cold sores that started to show up yesterday afternoon. (I´m not sure if they are cold sores [viral] or canker sores [bacterial]. It seems that it would be best if they were bacterial because bacterial sores are not usually reocurring.) At any rate, at 6:30am when I could no longer sleep because of the throbbing in my bottom lip, the question that rolled around in my head was, "Where did this come from?" I think it´s the result of a combination of having a cold, being under great physcial stress from the delivery and the change in hormones from the medicine I was given.

Whatever the cause, the current state is that they hurt. What a silly thing to have to worry about at a time like this, right? This week will involve perseverance for the healing of the cold sores in addition to beginning the emotional process of dealing with all that has happened.

God is good though. So good. Nothing escapes His eye. I´m so glad that He is with me....

So grateful for many things....Ruben´s patience and tenderness, Aaron´s sweet, persevering spirit, the now-unfolding yellow tulips I bought the morning before we found out that Rebeca Grace had passed away, yummy food made with love and then hand-delivered with hugs and prayers, kind messages from friends around the world, a hot shower and clean clothes to wrap up in, sunshiny days to help cut through the winter cold.

So, I´ll wait for the Healer to heal body and heart, and for the Creator to re-create in me health and hope. May the waiting begin. If you want to join in the process, I just posted some new prayer requests on the "Current Prayer Requests" tab above. Thanks!

Lots of Little Lights Make a Big Difference

Just got home a few hours ago. I´ll share a quick summary and then record a more detailed version later.

Friday, Feb 17
8am While Ruben took Aaron to playschool, a friend took me to the hospital.
10am I took some medicine to start the contractions.
11am  They started coming.
1pm After settling Aaron with his Spanish grandma, Ruben arrived at the hospital.
2pm The contractions had become pretty strong and I figured I could benefit from an epidural at that point.
4pm The epidural had been administered and Iwas feeling no pain.
5pm I was dialating but not enough. needed to wait a couple more hours.
7pm The epidural started to wear off, but was soon supplied again.
7:30pm The doctor broke the amniotic sac and with 3 big pushes Rebeca Grace´s body was delivered: 1 pound, 3.04 oz. / 540 grams.
8pm Ruben and I spent a few minutes alone with the baby then invited in a good friend to take a few pictures for us. Then we said goodbye.
10pm I was settled in my hospital room for the night.

Saturday, Feb 18
8am The nurses brought breakfast...cafe con leche and a roll
11am The doctor came by for the final visit and said I could go home.
12pm After dressing and gathering my things, we climbed into the car to head home, with one stop on the way--the municipal funeral home.
1pm Finished all the details necessary for cremation and finally drove home.

Physcially I feel pretty well. The delivery went without complications. The medical staff were very kind. The time with the baby was good but not very sentimental. Emotionally, the day went amazingly well. Very few tears or even sadness really. (I´m sure it will be on the agenda at a later date.) Now that I am home, I am tired and mostly just want to lie down and be alone.

Thank you so much for praying for us, for sharing your hope, for shining His light in our darkness. Although I want to be alone right now, I still need companionship. So many are helping to surround both Ruben and me and fill us up with love and joy, hope and strength.

Thank you again for walking down this road with us.

Clinging

"Bless this nest, Lord, of fragile things, encircling the breakable and broken in grace, in the ever warmth of Your wing, in the sheltering shadow of Your face, us-the clinging ones, You-our clutch of hope, singing to us the song of home."

A Prayer for Your Home

Ann Voskamp

www.aholyexperience.com

Spending a Quiet Day before the Delivery

This morning we woke up at 6am because Aaron was sure that it was daytime already and just couldn't be convinced to go back to sleep.

I took him to playschool and, for the first time since September, he did not cry this morning when I took him to his classroom. (He wasn´t elated to go...but he was not crying.) I wonder if it has anything to do with the fact that we saw 2 little green-haired clowns with red noses on the way this morning.

Everyone here is preparing for Mardi Gras here and it´s a big deal at the schools and even the playschools. There are parades and other festivities all weekend. The littlest ones even dress up. Tomorrow, Aaron will dress up like a duck. Although I got to prepare his very simple costume, unfortunately I won´t get to see him in it. Ruben will have to take pictures.

As I entered into his classroom....I was crouching down to help Aaron put on his smock, and all of a sudden, at least 5 or 6 of the children circled around me, greeting me, saying "hello" with big smiles. It was sweet and kind of funny that it happened this way...."They must want some extra attention," I thought.

One of the little girls even carressed my hair for several seconds. "How sweet. What a blessing." I thought. Later I thought, "Could it be that they know?" Of course they don´t know. Their parents don´t know. I know that Aaron knows something because he´s been extra sensitive since our visit to the hospital, holding my hand more, wanting/giving me more hugs; but even if Aaron understands it, he´s not old enough to comprehend it completely, let alone explain it to the other 2-year-olds. Then I wondered, as I sometimes do, if there´s some other supernatural, sensitive world in the world of children, things they sense without even really knowing what it is. :-) Regardless of what it is, the Lord used the little ones to send a fresh sense of hope this morning.

While Aaron was at playschool I went shopping for a few items...mostly looking for some comfortable clothes to have for the hospital visit. I wish I would have bought some fuzzy slippers. I forgot to look for fuzzy slippers.

One thing I did buy was a pink water bottle (similar to the one pictured here.) One of the things I´ve missed, really since I was pregnant with Aaron (3 years ago!), is going running. I ran some when Aaron was small, pushing our off-road stroller; but it´s so heavy that it wasn´t super motivating, especially with all the hills. During this pregnancy, I have often thought, "I can´t wait to be able to get back to running." Of course, it´s easy to say that. When the time actually arrives, the motivation isn´t always there. I bought this pink water bottle and decided that I´m going to run for Rebeca Grace. She will be my motivation. She´s free now. She has a new body. She´s running and playing in heaven. And so I will run again...and soon as it´s physcially possible and I will celebrate her freedom. And the water bottle....well, it´s a pretty, pink water bottle that will remind me not to wallow in sorrow, but to run on...for her and with her!

There have been many phone calls on my cell phone and here at home today. I answered one call this morning that came while I was in a store. Just before the phone rang a new round of tears had started. I tried to regain composure and made it almost to the end of the phone call...but then couldn´t talk anymore. So, I haven´t picked up the phone anymore today. If you´ve called, I hope you´ll understand. I just don´t have a great desire to talk right now. I just want to be alone with Aaron and Ruben.


I just ran across a website with stories about miscarriage. I have just done a quick read of one of the stories, but haven´t even read thoroughly yet....but I thought it might be good to share here, in case you want to read what someone else has written about losing a baby. I want to go back and read it more closely later.

In case you're wondering, I have to be at the hospital tomorrow at 8:30 to start the process of inducing delivery. I may write more tonight. I may not. I'll be back though.

She Has Gone Home

Just wanted to let you know....

Ruben and Aaron and I just got back from the hospital a couple hours ago. We went to the emergency room because the baby had been moving less and less...and then I hadn´t noticed any movement since Sunday afternoon. 

They did an ultrasound and it´s clear that the baby has passed away.

So, I´ll go back tomorrow to get a pill, an "abortion pill," the doctor called it.

Then on Friday I´ll check in to the hospital to deliver the baby. They´ll induce and they say that she should arrive by Friday afternoon/evening. If all goes according to plan, I´ll be able to go home on Saturday.

Just wanted to let you know. 

More details to come soon.

On Alert

Last week was a busy week. I was moving from one place to another at a more rapid pace than usual. That might be why baby Grace seemed to move around less....but it seems that she´s been moving, kicking, etc. less and less in general lately. Sunday was the last day that I noticed her normal wiggles and kicks. It seems that she is possibly still alive, but maybe not. It´s just not clear.

Last night I was sad. I woke up at 4am and couldn´t go back to sleep. I was thinking about the baby. She did move a bit, kind of like rolling over. There was some other little beat, like maybe a heartbeat, but very little movement. Am I ready for this moment? Not yet, not yet.

Again I was sad, feeling defeated....and then I was reminded that if she is gone now, she is free. The Lord has decided to take her home now where she is in the best hands and where she will no longer suffer.

The thing is...we just don´t know if she´s still here or already there.

So, our plan is to head to the hospital later today to take a look-see. I´ll let you know what happens!

Doctor Visit and Ultrasound Feb 6

Thank you for your prayers and calls and emails asking about how the last doctor´s visit went. I sent out an email on Feb. 5 to several people requesting prayer for this doctor´s appointment and the ultrasound.

*that Ruben and I would sense the Lord´s presence and that He would reassure us that He will wowrk all things to our good


*for quick rest and recuperation for Ruben who is just finishing a week-long nightshift, with the last 2 days being 12-hour night shifts


*for God´s glory to be seen during the ultrasound: that the doctors would be surprised in a positive way by the results they find


*that God would choose to heal the baby´s diaphragmatic hernia, in addition to her other symptoms. 


*for peace and joy for the little life within me


*for grace and confidence, praying against fear and worry


*for energy and time to take care of important planning details regarding the baby´s homegoing (i.e. passing away), whenever that may be


The morning itself went well. What I didn´t mention earlier is that I actually had 2 appointments that morning, one for the ultrasound and the other for a regularly scheduled blood analysis. Because they were scheduled so closely together, I actually didn´t get ANY time to talk withthe doctor abou tthe results that she found during the ultrasound.

When I compare the written reports (all in Catalan, of course) I see a slight difference in some numbers, but I don´t know if they indicate improvements or deterioration. Since there was no time for consultation afterward, I don´t have a lot of new news. :-(

Basically all the physical defects that the baby suffers form are still currently there. Plus, the baby is now a month behind in her growth. In the last appointment she was 2 weeks behind. This is typical of Trisomy 18 babies, who are born smaller than normal and suffer from great delays in their growth, in the womb AND after birth.

However, as the ultrasound doctor (who is not my regular doctor, but is part of her team) was recording the final data, I asked about the flow through the baby´s umbilical cord. I told her that during the last visit my doctor told me that there was NOTHING flowing thorugh the umbilical cord. This doctor said, "That would be impossible. The baby would be dead." "I know," I responded. "That´s why I want to know about any possible changes you´ve seen."

The flow through the umbilical cord is measured on a scale of 1-5, 1 being normal and 2 being "not so great" and then going downhill from there. The last report actually stated "ABSENCE of flow through the umbilical cord," and my doctor described it as a 5.

The report from this latest ultrasound states that the flow changed to a 2.34, a HUGE change on the 1-5 scale! Her report read, "A reversal in umbilical cord flow." So, that was encouraging. At least Baby Grace is still alive and moving around in there, although she´s moved around a little less this week, possibly due to all her physcial health challenges and/or possibly due to my increased busyness this week.

One other special detail is that I finally made a short video of the baby´s ultrasound, seeing her body, her slight movements and hearing her heartbeat. Another Trisomy 18 mom had suggested this after the last appointment. So, I got it and I´m so glad. It might not be so interesting for the rest of you, but I´ll share it here just to have it included in the blog:

All three of us (Ruben, Aaron and I) actually got to recuperate a little extra sleep at the beginning of the week because Aaron was apparently more tuckered-out than usualy and "slept in" an extra hour, not waking at the crack of dawn. :-)

In terms of planning details regarding this baby´s homegoing, right after the doctor´s visit, I stopped by the municipal funeral home (each city has one) to ask about the procedure and prices. (Not by coincidence, the cemetary/funeral services are just one bus-stop away from the hospital.) The person in charge was busy so I wasn´t able to get the information I wanted. I´ll have to go back another day. It actually worked out better that way. I was sad on the bus ride back home, unable to contain the flow of my tears. Yet, out of the blue, the Lord brought a song to my mind at that moment that comforted me so much:

"God will make a way where there seems to be no way.
He works in ways we cannot see. He will make a way for me.
He will be my guide, hold me closely to His side.
With love and strength for each new day, 
He will make a way. He will make a way."


I´ve received multiple gifts in the mail for Baby Grace and for the rest of us....from my mom, from my parents´church and from some special friends in Texas. I feel showered, not only with useful items, but also with love and care. Thank you for praying for God´s provision and goodness for us.

The next appointment is scheduled for Februrary 27th with my main doctor. I hope to be able to go into more detail with her regarding the baby´s growth and development.

Praise the Lord for the change in umbilical cord flow!  Whether it´s something normal that tends to occur or it´s some great miracle, God´s hand is obvious in the life of this little one.

Again, thank you so much for praying. As the Lord prompts you, please keep us in your prayers....

*for joy, for hope and for a constant practice of God´s presence

*for supportive partnership between Ruben and me

*for consisten and loving parenting from us for Aaron

Thank you!

Watching For the Storm

Kind friends continue to touch base and ask, "How are you doing? How are you feeling?"

Well, most of this week, and especially last night, I have been going to bed super late! That often happens when Ruben works the night shift; but it also happens when I´m worried or preoccupied about something. I stay awake (often keeping busy with emails or following news on the internet) until I can´t keep my eyelids open any more...I think it´s a defense mechanism against thinking too much!

In addition to not sleeping much, I also haven´t been eating well this week either, another small way to try to control my circumstances. That symptom usually pops up when I´m under stress. While I´m not feeling particularly stressed, apart from any other normal pregnancy, these behaviors of mine reveal the concern that is mounting about the coming storm.

In these first days I have been pretty positive when I talk to people. It has been genuine, not contrived. Part of that is due to a real trust in God, part is due to the many prayers that others have offered for us, and part of that has been just a stubborn will and sheer determination to never drown in depression and grief again.

The last major crisis that we lived as a family was a life-threatening car accident in May of 2007. In that situation there was no warning. It was a head-on collision that broke both of Ruben´s legs and tore my intestine which resulted in emergency abdominal surgery and kept me in the hospital for 2 weeks. Several long months of slow healing and recovery followed. I was overwhelmed with the grief of physical suffering and loss we experienced due to the carelessness of someone else. Part of me just doesn´t want to deal with that again. Haven´t we lived enough suffering for a lifetime already?

Of course, I know that grief is healthy and important and not really something to avoid; but until the actual moment comes, I´m trying to focus on the positive (which also involves NOT thinking too much about the negative) and at the same time hunker down and prepare for the winds and waves on the horizon.

Sometimes I try to balance my experience by remembering that I am not the only one who has suffered or will suffer. There are moms and dads who must have suffered much more than I ever could...like, for example, mothers and fathers in Rwanda and other war-torn countries who lost children and their own lives in the evil of genocide; or like the families in Somalia, Ethiopia and Kenya that are fighting right now for the lives of their children in the midst of last summer´s drought and famine in East Africa.

But you know what experience I´ve lived that was worse than any car accident? It has been living a period over the last few years of dryness and distance from God, which some refer to with a spiritual term called the dark night of the soul. You know what came out of my mouth last night with lips quivering as I fell into bed, exhausted and facing the reality of my concerns? "Jesus, please don´t leave me in the midst of this. Please don´t leave me." That would be far worse than other difficulty or problem I could ever face.

In fact, He has promised me that He hasn´t left me, that He never has and that He never will. As I was writing this entry I was reminded of an important encounter that He had with his disciples. Some of the things He imparted to the disciples as he was preparing for his own suffering and death included:

"I will ask the Father and He will give you another advocate who will help you and be with you forever....I will not leave you as orphans. I will come to you." (John 14:16, 18)


"I am the vine. You are the branches. He who remains in me will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing...If you remain in me and I remain in you, ask whatever you wish and it will be done for you. This is to my Father´s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples." (John 15: , 7, 8)


"I have told you these things so that in me you will have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." (John 16:33)


So, I watch and wait, claiming His presence, His goodness, His power, His love for us and focusing on that. When the time comes, I will fall apart. I will sink down deep. I´m almost sure of it....but He will be there with me. He will catch me. He will not leave me....and He will overcome it. He will redeem it. Therefore, for as long as I can, I WILL worship Him and I WILL celebrate this little life in me with everything I have!

By the way, I had my last ultrasound 12 days ago. The doctor told me that there was nothing flowing through the baby´s umbilical cord, it´s main life source for nutrition and oxygen. I supposed that she would not live more than a few more days. Of course, it´s still early....but as of today she´s still alive and she´s kicking and moving.

God is the giver and taker of life. He, not the doctors, have the final say. While they are knowledgeable and helpful, I look to Him to guide us and to mark out the days for this baby. As we walk through this journey with our baby Grace, I´ve found new meaning in the words of King David of Israel....

"For you created my inmost being: you knit me together in my mother´s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be." 
-Psalm 139: 13-16

A Becoming-Famous Trisomy 18 child: Bella Santorum

Living outside the U.S. makes it more challenging to follow any U.S. political campaign, be it a Primary Election or a National Election.

Recently I´ve become quite interested in the Republican Primary Election because of  Rick Santorum, a candidate who caught my eye because his 3-year-old daughter, Bella, has the same syndrome that our baby has been diagnosed with. Of course, I don´t think that our story will turn out just like theirs...but it is interesting to see how Bella continues to defy the odds and keeps living more weeks, more months, more years than expected.

She was admitted to the hospital this past weekend with pneumonia, which can be deadly for a Trisomy 18 patient. Please pray for her and her family as they monitor her situation.

Below is a campaign video from Rick Santorum where he talks about his family and about Bella and her health situation.

Just Checking In

So, I finally have a quiet moment at home. It´s Saturday afternoon and Papa has taken "little one" to the park for a little while. I don´t have much to say, but thought I´d log in just to keep folks updated....

It´s been 5 days since my last doctor´s visit when they said that there was nothing flowing through the baby´s umbilical cord. Each day since then I´ve been very careful to notice movements from the baby to ensure that she is still alive. Ruben asked me this morning if I´d noticed anything today and I couldn´t remember....but this afternoon as I sat down to write she´s been giving quiet little kicks...*whew* and I breathe a sigh of relief. 


Earlier this week a friend recently wrote and asked me how I was feeling. This is my response to her....

Thanks for wanting to empathize. The truth is I´m not feeling much of anything, especially since everythign is up in the air. It feels a little like I´m watching a movie. Last night I cried myself to sleep. This morning I woke up and started the day just like any other, feeling the same as any other normal day. I´ve noticed the baby moving still....so, it´s a little confusing, although there is no doubt that she is not well at all.


I´ve been sad about things we will probably never do (not even thinking about lifetime milestones like learning to ride a bike, going to the prom, graduating from high school and college, getting married, etc.) but now thinking more about things like dressing her little newborn body, giving her a bottle, changing her diaper, pushing her around in a stroller, making silly faces at her so that she´ll smile. I still know that God is able to intervene and change her story completely, but I´m also preparing for Him to take her home and heal her there.


I´ve also had thoughts about the things I´ve missed since being pregnant...a good glass of wine, drinking coffee without worrying about the caffiene, going running, having days where I feel good, i.e. no nausea and being full of energy. Mostly, it´s just waiting and watching...not thinking too much about it, although we need to go ahead and prepare funeral arrangements so that we don´t have to think so much about it when the time comes.


Moment to moment, the days are pretty normal. The hardest part is when people I know, mostly acquaintances (neighbors, moms from the park, moms and teachers at Aaron´s playschool, etc.) ask me how things are going. I usually just say "fine." I am thinking about preparing a note for the neighbors on my florr because they ask with such genuineness and they will definitely find out, sooner or later, about the Trisomy 18, especially if the baby comes early and/or is stillborn. It will be easier to tell them in a letter and easier to tell them sooner than later. I just haven´t had the energy to do it yet.

What a strange pregnancy....my thoughts are not of "What will it be like with 2 children soon?" or "I wonder if she´ll have red hair and fair skin" or "Maybe she´ll have Ruben´s smile." No....the thoughts about the future just carry me to a big blank spot, a big question mark and mostly leave me wondering if her premature (and eventual funeral) arrival will come this week or next, or next month or the next....and I also wonder how it will play out when I see my neighbors, those acquaintances that I don´t see every week, who politely will ask, "How are you?" "How was labor?" "How is your baby?" What will I tell them? How will I break the news?

Does this mean that I´ve stopped praying for a miracle? No. Definitely not. I´m doing my best to call on and wait on the Creator of the Universe and, at the same time, face the hard reality of our circumstances, so as to walk through them without living in denial. I´m so glad that He´s in charge and not me.

I´ve been encouraged by friends, and even strangers, who have written and called to share support, thoughts, comments, Bible verses and reading excerpts....


"My peace is the treasure of treasures: the pearl of great price." Also, " Thank Me when things do not go your way, because spiritual blessings come wrapped in trials. Adverse circumstances are normal in a fallen world. Expect them each day. Rejoice in the face of hardship , for I have overcome the world." -Jesus Calling  


"The power of praise... it releases God's goodness in your life! Just remember when Paul was sent to prison for witnessing.  He was placed in the deepest prison cell - as though he were a criminal.  He, then, together with Silas, began to praise Him.  So loud that the other prisoners were able to hear them.  It was so loud (figuratively) that their praise reached Heaven...  And God released His power.  The doors of the prison cells (plural) opened up (they were not the only ones who received God's benefits) and they all were free to go.  But none had left just yet.  They were still in the prison cells.

God's power opened the doors for Paul, Silas and the other prisoners. So, if the circumstances try to imprison us, the power of Praise will release God's gift of freedom (the expected answer, healing, etc.) in our lives!! I will praise Him regardless of my circumstances.  Every problem is temporary.  God is Eternal.  His Word is Eternal.  His Love for YOU is Eternal."


Although I´m very tired as I write, I´m still encouraged.

Physically, I´m getting to that point of starting to feel  uncomfortable with the size of my belly and, while the terrible ongoing nausea that I experienced for the first 4 months of the pregnancy has subsided, I still don´t feel 100% better every day. The last two days I have been dragging a bit. And, while Aaron tests us with his 2-year-old tantrums, he is still and always be a complete blessing to us.

Ruben starts his night shift this week. It makes for a long week and usually tired conversations between us.

Please pray for kindness in our household this week and grace for each day. 

Thank you!

Her Going Home Could Be Nearer Than We Thought

(Prayer requests at the bottom of the page.)

As I waited for the bus among the dozens of other passengers-in-waiting at the hospital bus stop, I had to wipe away the tears I had tried to hold back...I wasn´t sobbing yet, but doing some deep swallowing to maintain composure. I faced the warm, Mediterranean sunshine with my eyes closed and felt the cold, winter wind at my back.

I had just come from my latest ultrasound with our doctor, a specialist in genetic abnormalities. I watched as she measured the head, the legs, the torso, etc. and as she closely examined the heart, the spine, the intestines, the umbilical cord. There was a younger doctor there too, observing, learning how to recognize birth defects and typical Trisomy 18 symptoms, like her clenched hands. "Are they fused together?" she asked the experienced doctor quietly, without referring to the body part (but I knew she was talking about the baby´s fingers.) "No, they aren´t fused together. They are just like that, always clenched." (A typical sign of Trisomy 18.)

When the doctor finished the exam, I asked, "More problems?" because with every visit and further development of the baby, more developmental problems have been revealed. To my surprise she said, "No, no changes since the last appointment." In some ways, I breathed a sigh of relief...at least there´s nothing additional. Last time they had identified the poorly developing placenta and the reality that it is not functioning well. I asked about the baby´s growth because during the last visit we saw that she was two weeks behind on her growth. Today the ultrasound revealed that she is now three weeks behind.

The biggest news, the saddest news, however, is that there is nothing flowing through the umbilical cord now. (The umbilical cord is what connects the baby to the placenta, which supplies the baby with nutrients and oxygen from the mother and transfers waste products and carbon dioxide back from the baby to the maternal blood supply.) So, nothing good getting to her and nothing bad is able to get out of her.

In my mind, this news signals certain death...it´s just a matter of time. I´m only 5 months pregnant. We knew that there was a strong possibility that the baby would not make it to the end of the 9-month pregnancy to be born; but I have started to get used to the idea of at least carrying her to term. 

Although it seemed strange to ask, I had to know...."So, how will I know if the baby stops living? If she dies, I mean?" The doctor said that if we go 24 hours without noticing any movement, that´s usually the sign.

The baby has seemed so lively lately, wiggling and punching. It´s so fun to know that she´s there, alive and kicking, despite however uncomfortable I feel. And then I had to ask the next question, "So, what do I do if that happens?" "Come to the emergency room, straight to the delivery area and we´ll do an ultrasound to confirm." "And then you´ll induce to cause the baby to be born, right?" I asked, "Yes," she replied.

So, we´re watching and waiting, just not sure how things will go. Thoughts passed through my head as I walked from the doctor´s office to the bus stop..."Noone is promised tomorrow." "Our children are not our own. They are on loan to us to care for them." "Jesus loves the little children."

Also, Colton Burpo´s story of his trip to heaven and back in Heaven Is For Real came to my mind. Among his many encounters, one was with a little girl who told him that she was his sister. Months after his life-after-death experience, Colton came to the kitchen and told his parents, "I have two sisters. You had a baby die in your tummy, didn´t you?" Being so young, Colton was not told by his parents about the miscarriage; so they were very surprised by his statement. "In heaven this little girl ran up to me and wouldn´t stop hugging me....She said she can´t wait for you and Daddy to get to heaven." pp. 94-96, Heaven Is Real.

While this is merely one 4-year-old´s personal account, his words echo what Scripture tells us in Ecclesiastes 3:11..."He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet, no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end." We have been designed to live for eternity. The reality of eternity and the hope of the goodness of God have held me steady this afternoon...and will surely hold me to the very end. This is real. This baby is real...and I WILL see her again. This is not the end.

And so, to talk of death, such finite-ness, doesn´t seem to be the most adequate perspective. As I think of this empending moment, the death of our baby, for me, I can only consider it a going home, a passing to eternity where she will be in the best care with Jesus and where I will meet up with her again one day.

When I arrived at home, I tried to share the news with Ruben. The words wouldn´t come out, only tears. Please know that I´m normal. I have grieved and will be grieving. I´m not trying to stuff this down. I know there will be many more tears and maybe long weeks and months of darkness in the aftermath of her departure...but right now, I am also experiencing peace, knowing that God really is in control and that this pregnancy has not been a waste, by any means. There is a little girl that has been given to us by the Father for a short time...and she will be there in heaven, waiting to greet us when we arrive.

In addition to this long-term perspective, I also received an extra poignant reminder today that God is here with me. Each day I read a different Bible verse that comes to me on my Android cell phone (so convenient) through the "Daily Bible" application for Android phones. These words enveloped me as I waited alone in the sun with a tear-stained face....

"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me." Psalm 23:4

He is with me. He is with us. He has not abandoned us. He will comfort me. So, I am not and will not be afraid.

Please pray for us in the next few days and weeks. If God chooses to rescue this little one so that she can spend some more time on earth, we will rejoice! If He chooses to bring her home now, we will worship Him too. Pray for wisdom, courage, peace. Pray that we could take care of all the necessary details surrounding a birth and a death which could potentially come in the next few days or weeks. Thank you!

Loving Me For Me

Lately when I listen to music, I think of it in light of this baby growing in my womb. I don´t really know her yet. I know her because of the HORRIBLE nausea and/or vomitting I´ve experienced almost every day since September. I know her through blurry ultrasounds. I know her through glimpses of her heart beat during a medical exam (woau, woau, woau, woau). I know her in light of her list of birth defects, which seems to grow every time we visit the doctor´s office. I know her because of her little wiggles from inside.

While I might not ever really get to see her personality develop here on earth, might not ever get to hear her voice or see the true color of her eyes, my love for her is growing--not for anything she has done or could ever become. I love her because she was GIVEN to us. Therefore, I choose to know her for as long as possible, even if that´s only during these months of gestation. And the love? Well, I imagine that the love will go on long after.....

The following is a song by J.J. Heller (subtitled in Spanish) that talks about a pure, unending love that loves "in spite of me" rather than "because of me." 

Thank you, Lord, for Your unearned, inexplicable love for us. Teach us to love others as you do.

Saying Goodbye Before Saying Hello

Recently we picked up a brochure, which when translated to English, is titled, Guide to the Municipal Funeral Services of Terrassa: All that you need to know in case of death.

It´s a booklet that we´ll soon need to leaf through. Even though funeral planning, especially of one´s child, is is a terrible task to have to deal with, I´m grateful for these weeks and months of relative peace beforehand to be able to prepare these details....so that when the time comes, it will already be done.

I´ve also started to explore to see if some kind of service similar to Hospice exists here in Spain. I think it does. It´s called palliative care. The world "palliative" comes from the Latin word "palliare" (the Spanish word is "ocultar") which means to cloak. 

I´m not sure what I think about the cloaking thing. It connotes covering, even hiding....but to me, it also connotes a protection, an assitance. 

When baby #2 arrives, if she lives for any time, unless the Lord heals her completely before she´s born, she will have serious health problems. Having professional medical assistance on hand could be a great help. I just hope that they will be kind too.

When Aaron was born he was in the infant ICU for 3 days. The nurses in that unit were sooooo helpful and I with all the nervousness of a new mother, I honestly felt grateful for such great attention and kindness.

So, I kind of feel like I´m walking in the dark with this topic...but I know it´s necessary and think it´s better to think through early on. Once it´s prepared I can put it in a drawer until it´s time. My hope is that we will have lots of time with our little girl before we have to say good-bye.