somewhere between here and nashville.....

i received a christmas card from a good friend, jeff berry. he has had his share of trials and tribulations. he is a very talented musician and awesome worship leader. i've often told him that when i come to church his music feeds my soul and the few words he speaks in between songs is all the sermon i need. he now lives in nashville with his wife and 2 boys. i was glad to get the card with a new address for them. i tucked one of our cards in an envelope and addressed it and on the back wrote "i miss you. i am in need of your worship". it is somewhere between dallas and nashville as i type this.

i've been going to church as much as i can. i have to make myself go. i usually cry a lot during worship and do really well when people come up to me and ask about our daughter but usually cannot stop the tears when i respond. i'm not uncomfortable crying. it make make others feel a little awkward, like they've opened up a wound but it isn't like that. the words of caring people are like salve in a wound that is slowly closing.

so i'm in church today and the worship leader is moving from song to song and i'm loping along singing through my tears and trying to believe the words i'm singing. then, the words appear on the "jumbotron" and the piano and guitar begin to play one of my favorite jeff berry songs
"you are God alone...." i've sung it many times before but this time it touched my heart far more deeply. i couldn't believe it. then, when the service was over and the band members had put down their instruments and turned on a cd it was the voice of jeff berry singing "you are God alone." i stopped in my tracks and just had to listen.

and i remembered the christmas card that was on its way to nashville with the note scribbled on the back "i NEED your worship".

He surely knew my thoughts and my desires before Jeff Berry put his hands on that card.

i wish it was soon.er.

i was just saying this to myself. self, it seems that the only ones who receive comfort or encouragement are those who speak the lingo. by that i mean christianeeze. what i call God Talk. it almost seems like lala land when people experience such painful tragedies and seem to be able to "find joy in ALL circumstances" etc. i know we are supposed to. but don't look here yet for that person. i apologize to my daughter for not being that mother right now who prayed her through so much of her life experiences. i can't be that person who inspires and is an example and speaks of love relating to her baby girl's death. i'm so sorry for that. and it seems that only those people who have it all together in that regard receive prayers and encouragement and support. i was just saying all of that to myself.

and then i came to my blog and found a comment from the sister of a friend. actually, my son and daughter's friend. one day i said to my son, "do you know who i think is probably the genuinely NICEST person i've ever met? now this question was asked in the car going somewhere unrelated and the question was asked out of the freaking blue. my son didn't hesitate and he said "shawn davis". i almost fell out of the passenger side of the car! how could he have been on exactly the same page as me? that was exactly who i was referring to. this guy i hardly know but he always asks about our kids and he always has this huge grin on his face. he ALWAYS stops and inquires about our family as if he is TRULY interested. we both work in a church and sometimes churchianity requires the casual, routine "how are you?" (sometimes i just want to answer with the truth and watch the reaction it receives!).

so when i came to the blog today, not even intending to create a new post, there was that "1 comment". and it was from someone my daughter and i have never met and don't know - shawn's sister. niceity must run in the family.

it lifted me up today. i am a worried mom. moms always worry and i can tell you that when your kids are grown and have families of their own you STILL worry about and for them. i don't know how to act. i don't want to be so sad that it makes it worse for my daughter. i don't want to be so up that it is fake and ignores the sadness we all are feeling. i DEFINITELY don't want to say goodbye to them next week and give up the little joy that has been living and eating and sleeping in our house for the last week - a three-year-old little boy who has tantrums, gives good hugs and kisses, curls up tight against me while i read bedtime books and make up songs about what we've done all day to the tune of "the farmer in the dell". the enthusiastic little boy who wanted santa to bring him a spiderman tent/tunnel and who ended up playing instead in a tunnel of boxes connected by duct tape with mail slots cut in the side and a shower radio taped to the inside.

i want to believe that my daughter can some day sleep without meds and can have other things swimming around in her head besides the images that haunt her 24/7. i know my daughter is blessed with the best husband to help her through this. i hope i can somehow call on the images i have of how, after she and i had a tearful lunch/shopping afternoon, when we walked in the door he made her smile and laugh and forget for just a little. he is good for her.

maybe i'm not right now. maybe i'm too tender and my heart is too too. you know, too too. she doesn't want my faith to diminish. she doesn't want our family life and holidays and experiences to be full of bitterness and anger and hurt because of sydney. while things will never be the same for our family, i think they will be ok. someday. i wish it was soon. er.

we know God is still there. we don't feel Him mostly. we don't hear Him mostly. we certainly don't understand Him. but He must have used olivia to try and reach me today.

please don't give up on me. i'm just a worried, sad mom.

no one does...

my daughter doesn't deserve this. i know, no one does. but my daughter doesn't deserve this. she did everything she could to ensure that this pregnancy would be a good one. gestational diabetis? she stuck strickly to the diabetic diet. she checked her blood sugar religiously. painful finger pricks several times a day. she took snacks wherever she went just in case. after her first pregnancy resulted in a partial abruption (liam yrs old now) the doctors found she had a genetic abnormality - five leiden factor - affecting blood clotting. not to worry. after icing down the selected spot to make it numb, she stuck a needle into her stomach every day leaving bruises and blood blisters but making sure the heparin went into the uterus to protect the placenta. my god, she tried so hard to take care of her little girl. the first girl on her husband's side of the family in sixty years! she saw a high-risk doctor every month as well as her regular OB. she had ultrasounds regularly detecting nothing out of the ordinary. she called both doctors whenever she felt the slightest pain or discomfort only to be assured everything was fine. 2 days before the abruption, she saw the high-risk doctor and had an ultrasound that showed an active, healthy baby. 2 days later it was over. my daughter doesn't deserve this. i know, no one does. but my daughter doesn't deserve this.

an angel told her so......

you know, mary and joseph had it easy. i mean, when an angel shows up and starts talking to you, you KNOW you believe. when mary misses her "monthly visitor" and KNOWS she hasn't been with a man, you KNOW you believe. not to say there aren't difficulties along the way, but man, their faith must have been unwavering.

it seems to me it would be easier to accept things if you don't believe God is in complete control. that doesn't mean you don't believe - but if God isn't in complete control and circumstances just happen, then there don't have to be questions. there doesn't have to be "explain this to me so i understand" please. it is simply you-know-what happens and there it is. move on. maybe it's just in the afterwards that He works in us. maybe he doesn't allow or not allow things - they just happen. then we have to figure out what to do with it all.

watching my daughter cry and holding her hand and laying beside her in bed christmas morning is something that no one can explain unless you've been there. she is brave and puts on a brave face a lot of the time - but it is agony for her and it takes every bit of strength she has to pull it off. she wonders how she can be so obsessed with something that is gone forever when she has a precious three-year-old who should have her complete attention. she is a wonderful mother and her little boy loves her dearly and he'll be fine through this. but right now, only 3 weeks down the road, she is still raw and bruised and crushed.

i wish those things that happened in biblical times would happen again. for her. i wish an angel would come to her and she would hear a soft voice that explains to her what in the heck is going on and if she could have hope for the future. i don't know enough to know if mary knew what her Son would face thirty-something years down the road - she just knew He would be Special.

because an angel told her so.

baby in a basket.....

i really have nothing worthwhile to say right now. we put the tree up for liam and are trying to get some lights outside for him as well. my heart just isn't in it. i have been going to work and trying to stay busy - staying up late at night so sleep will come quickly when i finally lay my head down. it just doesn't make sense and is so unfair. i look at other young women whose babies are due and see their excitement and their joy and their plans and all i can think of is my sweet daughter and her family and the unbearable pain they are experiencing. i contrast the experience of women who knew mid-way through their pregnancies that the outcome would be devastating. several months of grieving, anger and confusion don't make letting go any easier when the time finally comes to say goodbye but at least they had time to prepare. or not prepare. i can't fathom this for my daughter. christmas will just be something to get through this year. liam will make us laugh and will make us happy at times. but we'll still just be getting through. i can't pray right now because i know my prayers don't change God's mind. everything is up to Him and out of our control.

i want a baby in a basket on my daughter's doorstep. she has such a heart. dreams. heartache.

Jumping in the pool......

during the last year i have been reading blogs of young women i've never met and probably never will. my daughter's friend had a baby that developed meningitis immediately after birth and as a result suffered some brain damage and cerebral palsy. the baby was very sick and we were so grateful when God brought her through the crisis; i have followed her progress daily. but then i saw the link for elliot and from that claire and from that all the others, jonathan, poppy, miller grace and more. i checked every day on the progress of the babies who survived even for just a short time and on the mothers whose babies were still safely snugged inside the womb even for a short time.

a couple of weeks ago late one night i admitted to myself that it was strange that i felt so connected to these women my daughter's age. i almost laughed at the thought that there was some unknown reason i felt the pull to these sites. i even said to myself wouldn't it be weird if for some strange reason there WAS a reason i was filling up on the words of these struggling, hopeful, despairing, faithful families.

when my daughter lost her baby last week i would hardly accept the fact that surely God had placed me in front of my laptop so that He could fill me with His promises, His comfort and His grace. often while reading i had been in awe of the strength of these mothers - the words they typed that revealed a deep spirituality and Christian understanding of their journey. not without some anger or doubts, of course. just raw honest grieving.

several readers as well as the moms themselves have commented on my daughter's blog. they have emailed me. they, who are members of one of the most devastating mom's club, even in the midst of recent grief, have reached out to my daughter in her grief. the day after poppy's burial, there was angie commented to my daughter, comforting, lifting her up in prayer. selflessly.

i've tried to explain to those who don't even know what a blog is just how meaningful it is to be a part of a community of women who are strangers in some ways, but sisters in others. i've tried to explain just how important it is to have the support and prayers of these who have walked the same path - even those we've never met.

there is one blog i've just come across and the title of the blog is "the ripple effect". i think that pretty much sums up how God works through this new technology. i have seen how the ripples of this sad, hopeful pond of murky water reach further and further, the circles getting bigger and bigger pulling in those who might even be reading out of curiosity or just with a compassionate heart. and i've seen how He clears the waters with His grace and love and comfort.

blessed be your name?

so, if God allows our suffering so that we will draw closer to Him, how much suffering is enough? if we don't get it and continue to stay far from him, does He continue to allow suffering into our life? if we get it and begin to know that intimacy, is our suffering over? i know some people who are the most spiritual, most holy people who are so close to Him that a breath of air can't pass between them. they don't seem to have suffering. so is that the answer? if i pray for my grown children to know Him more, does that mean i am condemning them to some horrible suffering that would once again rip at my heart? when i sand "i want to know you more" years ago, but didn't, was that when God said "i'll help you know me more but it's going to hurt like hell"? if i don't desire that intimacy, if i live my live without wanting to know Him better, does mean that God will leave me alone? i ask these questions for my daughter without her knowledge.

blessed be your name on a road marked with suffering there's pain in the offering blessed be your name...

i will post emails i have been sending during this last week as we said goodbye to our granddaughter, born 2 months early due to our daughter's placenta abruption. in 4 short minutes at 30 and 1/2 weeks gestation, Sydney Grace fell asleep inside her mother's womb and woke in the arms of Jesus. i can hardly believe i've just typed those words; it has truly been a nightmare from which we can't awake. our daughter and her husband are broken, despairing, confused and questioning. just today the personalized christmas ornaments arrived in the mail - one for Liam (3) and one for Sydney Grace. cruel. had i known, i would have chased the mailman down the street and ripped the mailbag from his shoulder and heaved it as far into the arroyo as i could. they are desperately trying to hold onto their faith. they are trying to really feel jesus' presence; sometimes they can't. i assure them he is still there. it is 2am. our daughter has been given meds to help her sleep; if i stay up very late, when i crawl into bed i am more likely to fall asleep quickly. we are trying to keep the thoughts of Sydney and the dreams for her from haunting us at night. i have nothing else to say.