Monday, January 7, 2013

Walking With You...Some Reflection.

After Matthew died, I scoured the Internet.

I mean, that's of course after I was able to breathe for a few minutes...look at a computer screen or any thing, really, without great heaving and sobbing.

I needed to find something.

Wasn't sure of what it was.  Well, of course I knew what it was.  I wanted to find the way to fix everything.  To rewind back to right before she said, "I'm going to go ahead and break your water," and live *that* life.

The life where he would have lived.

No such luck.

Instead, I found blogs of women who also knew what I was looking for.  How to survive and live and still love God, and yes, even to find more joy and happiness in a world that had shattered.

One of those sites was Kelly's.  Kelly offers such special things for mothers who've lost babies, and though I couldn't bring myself to ask for any, I was grateful for her ability to comfort mothers like me and to do so with the perspective of having been there before herself.

In the beginning days of my life without Matthew, I found myself doing her Walking With You series.  Writing being therapeutic, I figured it was a great way to release words screaming in my mind and heart, as well as 'meet' other people who would know just how I was feeling.

In a world of people who don't know telling you how "It'll get better," I wanted to hear more from those who said, "I know it will never go away, but it won't always be this heavy.  It won't always take each breath away...just some of them here and there."

I wanted to know and hear from women who survive.

This last year has been a hard one.  After losing Matthew in 2009, I was a shell of the person I ever was before.  The big smile and bright eyes I'd always been complimented on were gone...and in my mind, gone forever.

One does not ever go back to *that* person after something so sacred and precious is taken from her.

When Luke was born in 2011, I became a new person.  A mother with a broken heart and a fully whole heart at the same time.  Capable of still being overcome with great sobbing sorrow and yet, being able to find joy in every.single.second with this sweet reminder that God can send restored joy and hope when we couldn't ever expect it.

When we started our third IVF cycle this time last year, I was, with no doubt, happy.  Content.  Longing, always, of course, for a baby boy in Heaven, but grateful for the one on earth and choosing to relish every second with him.  Another baby would have just been such a blessing, but honestly, if the cycles (I'd planned to attempt two) didn't work, I'd be ok.  Luke was enough.

Getting pregnant again was such a shock.  A joyful one, but still, shock nonetheless.  The cycle went amazingly well (not usual for me) and my numbers were great.  I plopped Luke in a Big Brother shirt, bribed him with a lollipop (only his 4th one, ha ha) and could not believe our great blessings.

Another baby!  Such joy.

Until we lost him right at the beginning of the second trimester.  No reason; normal, healthy baby boy.
Just gone.

I found myself right back there.  That place.  And this time, I was asking why I even got pregnant in the first place.  With Matthew, my whole pregnancy and our time together had been precious.  Amazing.  Perfect.  His life and death changed me in ways I'd never imagined.  Even knowing he'd die in the end, I'd not have changed a single thing.

But the second time? When I lost Trey, I was just so distraught...I'd been happy.  Having another baby was just icing. I was blessed to have a sweet boy in my arms already and honestly, did not know WHY that happiness had to be marred again with yet ANOTHER loss.

Why even allow pregnancy through such a complicated process as IVF to only lose him?


There's a difference, too, in the level of support.  There's never been any lack of support for our loss of Matthew.  It's very easy to see he was a real, living and breathing healthy baby, and people are often torn and heartbroken for us just looking at pictures of his daddy holding him.

But not so much with Trey.

Isolation.  I feel isolated.  Still, as I recognize that my third baby boy should have been gazing at twinkling stars on the Christmas tree, I feel like I'm the only one who remembers what my body lost.

What my heart lost.

So I'm doing this series again.  To remember, reconnect and restore.  There is great power in empathy, and often it's just the power that is needed to remind one she is not alone.  She is heard.  She is understood.

She will survive and she will grow.

With others.  Just as God intended us to do...carrying one another's burdens to love and support.

I'm grateful for those who've carried mine, and blessed for the opportunity to carry others'.


  1. Oh much of this is like portions of my life, past and present.
    Your words stir every memory and current struggle.
    Our paths crossed in the loss of our sons.
    We both cherish our living earthly miracles.
    Our hearts both ache for our recent losses.

    I too often wonder, why was I ever blessed to become pregnant this third time only to once again deal with the heartache and sorrow of loss.

    You have been such a tremendous support to me...and for that I am eternally grateful.
    You have been a good friend, though we have never met.
    I'm sure in heaven, we will have wonderful coffee dates with ALL our children running around us!
    I look forward to that day.

    Many many hugs and prayers to you my friend!

  2. Love you, dear Lori...and all three of your sweet babies. <3

    I understand the feelings of being isolated in my loss of's different of course, but I can empathize.

    God has used Matthew and Trey to touch many hearts, including mine.

    I look forward to "Walking With You" for this series, just as we did the "Anchored By Hope" Online Bible Study together back in 2010.

    Love and Hugs,
    Hannah Rose

  3. Perfectly and beautifully written Lori.... You are right.... I teared up reading and remembering...

  4. It's true we will never go back to who we were--but we will grow with the pain and grief, and as we change it changes with us. I understand, and thanks for sharing so I feel less alone.

  5. Sweet Lori. You have blessed my life so much, with your honest heart...and the courageous way you are able to share this journey. It, do doubt encourages so many mothers on this path. Because you are right...and I needed the reminder today, preparing for our first support group meeting (not sure if anyone will come!). The reminder that what is really needed is just to know we aren't alone. Someone gets it...someone cares enough to listen. There is no fix for this. But, there is hope...and survival.

    You are a beautiful mother. And, I'm so grateful to know you...and to know your sweet babies. Matthew, Trey, and Luke have touched my life...and remain in my heart...along with so many others.

    It is a privilege to know and speak these precious names. And, a privilege to walk with you, my friend. Thank you.

    Much love...

  6. I have followed your blog for a long time. This post is so beautiful.

    I can relate, I don't have children yet but I have lost 3 through miscarriage. People treat them like lesser experiences because I was never able to hold them, and because they were never seen. But my heart doesn't differentiate, and it still has three breaks in for each of the babies that should have been.

    Beautiful post.

  7. Lovely Lori, you write the most beautiful words, as always. :) Love to you and all of your boys.

  8. Lori, I first came to "know" you because we share a mutual friend (Andrea Hatch). I have followed your story from a distance, but please know you have been thought of often, and prayed for. Even just last month, as I sat on Andrea's couch and flipped through her bucket of years' worth of Christmas cards, and saw yours, and ours, nestled together, I thought, "and yet...there are little boys missing" from both our families. Sigh. Nothing more profound to offer tonight....just e-hugs, and the reassurance that you are NOT alone, and Matthew and Trey and the dream of three sons are not forgotten.

  9. So glad you are joining in. I think it'll be so good for everyone who does, even if we've done the series before. Love to you and your boys.

  10. As a mother who also lost her first born son just afer birth and then had a miscarriage at 8 weeks (of what I believe was a girl)about a year and half of a living son---I know what you mean. It is like she never existed not anyone but me and my aching heart. It is like the loss of our girl (and your Trey) is not allowed to compound the loss in my heart of Ian (our first born). We saw the heartbeat and she existed from the very moment that I saw that pink line on the pregnancy test. In my heart I hold onto the loss of both children--two of them---as living God created and Mommy loved babies. Babies that my heart aches for...until we meet as a complete family in Heaven.

  11. Thank you Lori for sharing the story of your 3 precious sons. I can relate to a lot of your feelings, especially where you shared that the person we used to be is gone & we'll never be that person again. Looking forward to more WWY posts!

  12. Thank you for sharing yours and your three sons story. It is very beautiful. Can't wait to read more WWY posts! It is nice to know that we are not alone on this journey, although I would not wish for anyone to have to travel it.