Dealing With It.

It has almost been 5 months since I was told my daughter's heart stopped beating. Almost a half of a year since she left me. To be honest, I haven't really dealt with it yet.

I start to deal with it and grieve her, but then I fall into the motherly duties of her brother and the responsibilities of life. But grief reminds me, again and again that I can't go on without doing this. Grief is often like that. Grief is always hiding in the shadows, waiting for me to pick it back up again. Grief is waiting for me to deal with it. Then each time I have to restart the whole process my soul needs to go through.

I only allow myself to get so far. I think I am afraid to go there. I am afraid if I go there I won't be the mother Elijah needs me to be. Or I won't be the wife Dion needs me to be. Or I physically will not be able to get myself to work. If I go there, can I even come back from that?

So here I am, I live in this world where I know Amiah is gone, but I have not allowed myself to let her go and grieve her. I live in this world where I keep myself so busy with her brother that I don't allow myself to feel the deep pain that I know my soul feels. I live in this world where I have to keep it together, because "this stuff just happens" and life still goes on.

I am afraid to let go of her completely because I do not see myself coming back from that. I don't know that I want to know that version of myself.

People typically ask me if I am angry, if I am angry at God or at our circumstances. To tell you the truth, I am not angry at all. I am just consumed by a deep sadness that I can't explain, that I never want anyone else to have to experience. Elijah brings me a deep, deep joy that I can't express, but the loss of Amiah brings me a deep, deep sadness that I cannot express. I feel trapped between two worlds. A world of joy and laughter and smiles with my son and a world of sadness and grief and sorrow with my daughter.

I imagine this is how God felt when Jesus died on the cross. His One and Only son was dying on the cross, but His people, His sons and daughters, would be reunited with Him.

Faith and loss are hard. Am I mad at God? Do I question Him? Absolutely. But do I understand we live in a fallen world and life just sucks mostly until we get to Heaven? Absolutely. 

I know the emptiness and loss I feel for our daughter will never go away. I know the joy I feel for Elijah cannot take away the emptiness. I just pray that I will allow myself to deal with this loss, doing it in baby steps if I have to.

“When her pain is fresh and new, let her have it. Don't try to take it away. Forgive yourself for not having that power. Grief and pain are like joy and peace; they are not things we should try to snatch from each other. They're sacred. they are part of each person's journey. All we can do is offer relief from this fear: I am all alone. That's the one fear you can alleviate.” GDM

Every. Single. Day.

I never knew you could really think about someone every single day after they were gone. Before Amiah, death has never really hit close to home for me. So when I would hear people say that they still think about a lost love one every single day I didn't really know that feeling. But I do now.

I think about Amiah every day. I think about how her personality would have been. I think about the way her and Elijah would have interacted. I think about how hard it would be to take them both anywhere. I think about how I would do anything to get her back. I think about how I would have rather her and Elijah both be here with their daddy and wonder why God didn't take me instead. So when I say I think about Amiah every day, I think about her every single day.

As time goes on, I am constantly seeking the good in Amiah not being here. Because I serve a God who takes every bad thing and can use it for His glory, I am constantly searching for a way that the tragic, confusing, devastating loss of my daughter can be used for His kingdom. It's hard. It's hard to say to God- yes, I want to see the good in this. Because my human instinct tells me there is no good. What kind of good God would take my daughter? What kind of good God would take an innocent life from a mommy and daddy who wanted her so badly? But that is the enemy talking to me. I know God did not take my daughter. I know we live in a fallen world. But I do know that God can use our situation to bring glory to Him. And what better way to honor the short life of my daughter than to shine light on His kingdom?

So I will search, and search and search for the silver lining in the hardest situation of my entire life. I will think of my daughter every single day. I will never forget her. I will grieve with mothers who have lost a child. And any time the devil rears his ugly head and tries to make me believe that God took my baby. I will choose Jesus. I will choose to believe that my daughter's short lived time in my womb has a purpose. And I will hold onto that hope until I get to hold my baby in my arms when I get there.

So here is to you, Amiah Mae. You are loved, you are remembered, and you will never be forgotten.

Love,
Mommy, Daddy and Elijah.

Mama of an Angel Twin.

Almost two months ago to the day we found out that our little girl's heart had stopped beating. That will forever be the worst day of my life. Almost a month ago, I delivered my two sweet babies, Amiah and Elijah. That was the most bittersweet day of my life. I used to use that term a lot, but now I truly know the meaning and feeling of bittersweet. I experienced so much joy that day and so much sorrow.

I remember our nurse, Iniko, telling me that I was at a 10 and she would go get the doctor so I could deliver the twins. I instantly broke down crying, because I knew that meant I would be saying bye to our little girl. She wouldn't be with me anymore. I wasn't ready for that.

The few weeks following the twins' delivery, was such a haze. We were back and forth between the NICU to see Elijah. We were planning and preparing for Amiah's funeral service. And I was recovering from delivery. I don't think I allowed myself to feel anything in those weeks because I was so focused on getting Elijah to where he needed to be so he could come home.

So Elijah came home and we settled into our routine and adjusting to life with a newborn. As the days went on, we were finally able to be home as a family, enjoying our son. Then my grief for Amiah hit me like a ton of bricks. Infant loss is such a terrible thing that no mother deserves ever. Infant loss of a twin is a unique pain. As I get to know Elijah more and watching him and his personality it hurts my heart for Amiah. When Elijah does something knew or we discover he likes something over another, my head wonders to how Amiah would have been. Elijah loves to be close to mommy or daddy's chest. What would Amiah like? It's like the more Elijah grows, the more my heart hurts and longs for my daughter.

I don't think I will ever in this lifetime understand why God wouldn't let us keep Amiah. And I don't think I'll ever see a day where my heart doesn't ache for her.

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One month ago Dion & I were given the worst news we have both ever received in our lives. Our daughter's heart stopped beating.

On Monday, June 13th, I had some leaking which can mean your water broke. I came into the hospital after calling my doctor. The nurse said go ahead and go to Labor & Delivery since the office was almost closed for the day. I called Dion and told him I was going to the hospital but not to worry and I would just drive myself because I was sure it was nothing and that I was overreacting. So Dion played another hole of golf and met me at the hospital.

It was confirmed that my water did break, so we just assumed I'd be in the hospital until I delivered the twins since you can stay pregnant for a little while even after your water breaks as long as you're being monitored. So they strapped me to the heart monitors to monitor Elijah's and Amiah's hearts. They found both heart beats, or so we thought.

About 2 hours later, they needed to give me magnesium to stop the contractions and steroids to mature their lungs in case they came early. When they went to adjust the heart monitors they could not find Amiah's heartbeat. Apparently they were picking up my heartbeat when they initially thought they had Amiah's, and assumed it was her's because mine was so elevated. The doctor brought in an ultrasound machine and was checking to see Amiah's heartbeat. We'd had over 10 ultrasounds at this point, so I knew what a beating heart looks like on a screen. I didn't see her heart moving. The doctor said let me get the better ultrasound machine. I didn't need him to say it, I knew it. I knew she was gone. He brought the other machine in and looked at the screen for a while. He then asked our family to leave the room. My parents and Dion's mom were in the room. I knew why they had to leave, he had to tell us our daughter was dead. He said I'm so sorry you all, her heart is not beating.

After Dion and I had a moment together, he went and told our parents. Dion asked them to go home so that him and I could just be together that night. That was the longest night of my life. I didn't sleep. I was in shock. I felt like a bad mom. I couldn't keep her safe in what is supposed to be the safest place for her. I felt disconnected from my son, because why did he get to live and she didn't?

The next day, we had another ultrasound with the high risk doctor. He told us based on her size, her heart had probably stopped at least a week ago. I felt like he punched me in the gut. Worst mom ever, how did I not know that my daughter wasn't alive for a whole week? How did I not know something was wrong? What if I would have known? Could they have done something to save her?

The days following the news of her death are such a blur. Partly because I was on so much medicine, partly because I did not want to believe this was happening. I still haven't let myself fully grieve her death because it's like I'm in limbo. I know she isn't alive, but she's still inside of me physically. I'm sure the weight of her death will hit me like a ton of bricks the moment I see her and she isn't breathing. Losing a child comes with so much grief, you're not just grieving the loss of your baby, you grieve the loss of a toddler, of a kid, of a teenager, of an adult. All the phases of life that I won't get to have with her.

The days ahead are going to be harder than I can imagine.

I was carried in Your arms.

Next weekend I will be attending an IF:Local here in Lexington, KY. Last year, my sister in law invited me. I told her on a whim I would go, but when the weekend came up I dragged my feet to go because I was so exhausted from the week. But I am so, so glad that she invited me and that I actually went. If you want to attend a weekend full of phenomenal woman speakers and create connections with other amazing women you need to check out https://ifgathering.com/gather/local/. One of these years I am going to figure out a way to go to the live on in Austin, TX.

So what I am getting at is what we wrote on the rocks last February. They asked us to write what our next step of faith looked like or what we wanted it to be. After two years of struggling with infertility, I wrote that I wanted to give my struggle to conceive to God and work on my relationship with Him. Which was hard to do. I felt that if I let my struggle go that He might forget that is still a desire of mine and my husband's-to have children. But I did.

"You were singing in the dark, whispering Your promise even when I could not hear."

So I began working on my relationship with God and I worked on returning to the fact that GOD IS STILL GOOD even when we deal with crappy situations, even situations we can't control. Throughout our infertility journey I have often questioned God's goodness. I was able to get back to knowing and believing that God really is good.

That summer following IF last year, we were able to do IVF. (The expensive fertility procedure) In September I became pregnant with our first baby. I was over the moon- we were both over the moon. But suddenly it all came crashing down. We lost our first baby at 6 and a half weeks.

And it was hard. But at the same time it wasn't. That relationship God and I had been working on over the months before I became pregnant was still there. Through the miscarriage of our first baby I was able to believe God was still good and that God still cared and that God wasn't leaving me. In mending my relationship with God, I was equipped to deal with our miscarriage. He held me through it all and I never doubted He wasn't there or wasn't good.

Flash forward to now- one week before this year's IF. I am 10 weeks pregnant with twins. God is so faithful. I can't even describe in words the way this journey has changed me and changed my view of my good, good Father. God has walked me through every step of this journey and I always think of the song "Not for a Moment" when I think about this whole journey. He hasn't forsaken me, and He has heard my cries.

I can't wait to see how God works at this year's IF:Gathering!