August 3, 2007....

It was a year ago today that Nathan was born still, and it's been a difficult but sweet day. Really though, this whole summer has been like that -- very hard. I'll be sitting by the pool, watching the kids swimming, and I'll suddenly feel like I'm reliving a moment from last summer. The sights and sounds, my iced tea, the feel of the water spray and the sweat running down the back of my neck -- all take me back. I look down and remember my big pregnant belly and what it felt like to be blissfully unaware, still looking forward in excited anticipation, not having any idea it was all about to come crashing down around me.

I'm sure each mom does things differently to honor (and just to *survive*) the anniversary of her baby's/child's death. What means so much to one mom might not mean as much to another. I can only share what is helping me, and I am just starting out on a lifelong journey.

When Nathan died, I felt compelled, instinctively, to make memories for my other kids. So throughout my 29 hours in the hospital with Nathan, as the nurses monitored my recovery, I had my older girls taking pictures. We took his footprint and cut a piece of his hair. I wrapped him in a special blanket that I'd crocheted for him. I dressed him in two separate outfits on those two days (and then we bought him a special one for his burial). This week, I put out all those things (and more) for my kids to handle, to feel, to snuggle, to remember.

After the funeral, I spent the rest of August doing Nathan's scrapbook. I just worked on it every day at the kitchen table. I didn't really do anything *except* this -- it was my way of getting through that awful time. I read several books, (especially MacArthur's _Safe in His Arms_), searching for comfort, for reason, for something to write in the scrapbook. I cried. And I cried some more. Then I cut and arranged and wrote out my heart. It was my therapy.

I know my children saw how important Nathan is (and in turn, *they* are...) to me. I was so blessed that I had the freedom and ability to work uninterrupted for the most part. My older girls were wonderful in handling the younger kids because I just couldn't at that time. Also, I didn't have to worry about meals since the local homeschool moms took it on themselves to provide for us for a full month. They still have no idea how much that helped me. Doing Nathan's scrapbook was how I **grieved** and how I healed, too.

The scrapbook has played a huge role for my whole family in remembering Nathan this week. I brought out the scrapbook from my room several days ago and put it where everyone could have a chance to look through it again. The book is filled with pictures of the kids holding Nathan, with my journaling of what Nathan meant to us, and with special verses and songs and poems that have really helped me. The kids all love it, and I will make sure to bring it out every year during this first week of August.

When I was in the hospital with Nathan, Caiti (my oldest daughter) brought Nathan a little stuffed elephant. It is in Nathan's picture that I have here on my blog, and it sits next to that same framed picture in my front room now. At Christmas-time, Megan (my almost 5yo dd) gave Nathan her own stuffed elephant, too, and this week I found a small cute painted elephant that I took to Nathan's gravesite. The elephant has become a little mascot for my boy, and I have a feeling I will be on the lookout for these animals from now on.... Perhaps each year on Nathan's anniversary, I will add one to his collection.

This week I also found a little porcelain teddy bear "Mama" with angel wings. She's sitting down and a beautiful little toddler boy is kneeling against her lap. For some reason, this figurine spoke to my Mama's heart. I bought two of them -- and I put one at the cemetery, and the other is now sitting on my fireplace mantel next to a picture of Nathan.

I actually spent a lot of time at Nathan's grave this week. I've been going there regularly all year -- once a week at least, often more. I don't consider it morbid. I gain a sense of peace and equilibrium from spending 30 minutes to an hour trimming the grass around all the pinwheels and silk flowers I have "planted" there. I usually listen to some special songs on my CDs on the drive to the cemetery (such as "Homesick"), and I spend some time praying out loud, just telling God my feelings without having to worry that what I'm saying might shock Him or upset HIm. I know He can handle it -- thankfully! This routine has really helped me get through this year in one piece.

As July drew to a close, and I knew the anniversary was approaching, I realized I wanted to mark the day as being significant to our family (because it really is), and yet I didn't want to drag anyone down into depression. (Having teenage girls, I do try to be aware of their hormonal tendencies...). At Nathan's funeral, each of the kids released a colorful helium balloon to "fly" up to Nathan, as I thought this would help the little ones (Megan really, as Audrey is too young) to understand better where Nathan is right now. It seemed to work very well last summer, so I thought we'd do it again today as a sort of tradition. So we did -- from 21yo Caiti down to 2yo Audrey, and they all laughed and pointed and tried to keep track of those balloons racing all the way up to Nathan in heaven.

In the 3 & 4yo SS class I teach, Megan told everyone that today is her brother Nathan's birthday but that he died and he lives in heaven now. She is very aware of when Nathan's birthday is because hers is just 12 days after it, and she is quite happy that they share the same birthstone (peridot). The children this morning asked all about Nathan, and they were very impressed that he gets to live with Jesus already. It was very sweet.

My oldest daughter brought me some beautiful flowers today along with a little wooden bird, painted a dusky green, with the word "Love" written at the base. She just wanted me to know how much she cares.

It hasn't all been light and pretty though.

I have spent hours this week just groaning those guttural cries that we make when there simply are no words. But overall, for me, it works best to regularly unburden my soul cries to the Lord. Otherwise I risk falling back into that scary pit of depression that still threatens to overwhelm me at times.

A month ago, while I was working on the flowers at Nathan's grave, I saw a small family come and sit by a new grave for a while. A young girl ran around the grounds, the father stood off silent and alone, and the mother sank down to the grass in what looked like desperation. I had a strong feeling that she had just lost a baby. After they left, I went to see -- and yes, their baby boy was born still, too. Yesterday I took a bouquet of yellow roses, tied with Nathan's signature white ribbon w/ the pastel baby footprints, and planted it off to the side at their little boy's grave.

Today, the mom had moved the yellow roses into the center with her own flowers. I think she knows where they came from and hope she understands I am praying for her. Maybe Nathan is even now playing in heaven with their Casyn.


Kim

How many kids do you have?

I've really been facing the same question for almost 16 years. I think it's time I went with the answer that feels right in my heart rather than with the one I think makes people more comfortable.

16 years ago in June, my youngest brother, Keith, died in a car accident. It was a bright, sunny morning. He hadn't been drinking or anything like that. He was just driving on a twisting, turning country road to see a friend. Maybe he was distracted by a dog running in front of him. Maybe he was going a little too fast. We'll never know. But he slammed into a tree on the side of the road...and he wasn't wearing a seat belt. He died instantly.

Keith was the youngest of my three brothers -- 5 1/2 years younger than me. He was barely 21 years old when he died. He was still living at home with my parents, and he was going to the local community college, training to be a policeman. He was a good kid... a real peacemaker. Thankfully, he was also a Christian. My mom was only 45 when he was killed (just a few years older than I am now), and his death changed my parents' lives forever.

Keith was one of the 3 brothers who grew up with me. As real as you or me. A major part of my life even though I left for college, (and then marriage, and then life in China...) when I was still 16, and he was only 12. Yet when people ask how many brothers I have, I always hesitate. I always stop to consider whether I should answer 2 or 3. If I say 2, I feel I'm denying my brother's existence. If I say 3, I feel like I need to explain... and that the explanation will probably cause people to be uncomfortable.

For almost 16 years I have never answered that question without pausing to wonder what I should say.

And now there is Nathan.

It's been 8 1/2 months since my baby son Nathan Jeremy died. He was only 6 lbs. (almost), and he died the day before he was born. Some people think it must not feel the same as losing an "actual child" would feel. Well, I can only say that Nathan is just as real to me as Keith is. 21 years here walking around on this earth.... or 8 months kicking and hiccuping inside of a womb... it doesn't seem to really matter. Life is life, and love is love. I doubt God sees a difference.

And for 8 1/2 months I have faced the question, "How many kids do you have?"

Now this has long been an interesting question for me anyway. Given the fact that I have so many children, people have always seemed awestruck with my answer, even back when it was a "lowly" number like 5 or 6 -- or they might be dumbfounded, amazed, befuddled, or terrified, depending on who is doing the asking and their perspective! ;-)

But now the question seems like a test of sorts. Is Nathan as much my child as my others? Did his short life mean anything? Is a baby inside his mother a real baby? Well, of course, he is.

Then don't I have to count him in my total number of children?

But some people say (well-meaning people, I'm sure) that including Nathan in the "kid count" would be awkward for the listener. It would draw undue attention to myself and my grief. It would necessitate a lengthy explanation. It would make others sad as they remember their own losses.

I have solved the issue when I am talking with people online by including Nathan in my signature:


Red-Headed Mom to 9 great kids here on earth...
...and 1 precious son waiting for us in heaven...


I even include the 3 babies I have lost to miscarriages sometimes, depending on the situation. (After "1 precious son," I add in "and 3 surprises".... (And that's a whole different issue, isn't it? Such a painful topic for so many moms.)

But I can't very well walk around town reciting my "signature" at the end of all of my conversations... or even when I am asked the big question concerning how many children I have. I know I can't... because I've tried. Maybe some people could do it gracefully, but for me, that beautiful long description of my kids is just **too** long and, yes, too awkward and attention-grabbing.

And yet, Nathan is my son, too. As Keith is my brother.

And so I am deciding now that when I am asked this difficult question, I will answer with the simple truth. There is no need for long explanations. There is no need to be sad or teary. There is no need to feel guilty that they don't know the whole truth. After all, does anyone?

But there is a need to testify to the sacredness and specialness of life. Just because my son and my brother are living in heaven does not mean they are any less my son and my brother.

Therefore, from this moment forward, I will proudly and matter-of-factly reply that I have 3 brothers.

And yes, I most definitely have 10 children.


Blessings,

Kim


5/6/08 -- ETA (Edited to Add).... I was rereading this post tonight, and I was convicted that some people might find that last comment (about having "10 children") wrong and even hurtful. It certainly might seem strange and perhaps contradictory to some of the main points in this note.

I do firmly believe I have 13 children -- nine here on earth with me at this time, and four waiting for us in heaven. One of the four in heaven now is our son, Nathan Jeremy, and the other three will be (as I mentioned above) "surprises" to us. Maybe they will be boys, maybe girls, maybe (shock of all shock... drumroll, please...) they will be **redheads** like me!!!

However, my husband (though a devoted Christian) is not completely sure that all early miscarried babies are actually living souls in heaven, so I respect his right to this view and do not include these three children in my official, "spoken "count" of kids. My husband wishes he could believe the way I do, but even if that never happens for him on earth, I do look forward to the day that he is happily surprised and blessed in heaven to meet his other children.

To those of you who have experienced the loss of babies through miscarriage, my heart goes out to you. I pray you find peace and healing in the hands of our Father. Truly, He is the God of all comfort. My pain is softened when I think of my babies in the arms of the One who made them and loves them so much. What a wonderful place heaven will be for you when you see Jesus... and your babies!

Blessings,

Kim

Babies Really Do Change the World

I just stumbled on a gut-wrenching blog. Hmmm.... as if it was by chance. No, of course not - God led me there.

My heart just aches so much right now. Another sweet little baby taken home so soon. Just hours after being born last week, beautiful Audrey was home in heaven. Please join me in praying for her mother, Angela, and her father, Todd, and her three young sisters.

Angela said several times on her blog that Audrey had already changed the world. And I believe her.

I know how tremendously Nathan changed me ... which in turn changed my marriage... and my children... and the way we interact with the people all around us. In other words, Nathan is changing the world, too. Even now I am writing a book about my experiences in this year of sorrow after losing him, and I hope one day that this book will be a comfort and a source of hope as I share my heart with other moms.

I can picture my baby Nathan with Audrey.... and with all the other babies in heaven. Quite a wonderful sight up there, I'm sure. The book __Heaven__ by Randy Alcorn was a great solace to me after I lost Nathan.... as was John MacArthur's book __Safe in the Arms of God__. The only way I have survived Nathan's death is to rest in the knowledge that God truly is good and to remember that He loves my Nathan even more than I do.

But I am **so** looking forward to the day I hold my son again.

Dear Nathan Jeremy.

Blessings,

Kim

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words....

I am blessed with three older daughters who are all great at taking pictures. When I stayed in the hospital with our baby Nathan (who was born still this past August due to cord entanglement), I just held him for one whole day and night, and my girls took a lot of pictures. That's how I was able to put together Nathan's scrapbook -- which includes pages of all the different kids holding him (except my two youngest).

But one thing I had put off doing until now. I have a wall of baby pictures of all my kids which were taken when they each were between 5 and 7 months old. Today I put up one of my favorite pictures of Nathan that I had blown up to an 8x10 size and framed in an old-fashioned looking gold frame. It fits beautifully, and he looks so right, hanging there next to his brothers and sisters.

Since I have 9 other kids, there are 3 rows of 3 of them; they are all in 10x13 dark oak frames, and they are hanging vertically. Nathan's picture is to their right, just over a picture of a mom rocking her baby, with the words "For This Child I Prayed." Because his picture is in a gold 8x10 frame and because it hangs horizontally, it looks special, but yet it still looks like it's supposed to be there -- and it is.

All the kids like it alot, and my dh does, too.

I had a few other favorite snapshots blown up to 5x7 size and framed -- the one I've mentioned here previously, where Nathan is up on my shoulder and looks like he's snuggling my neck, and another one of just his perfect little hand resting in my hand on top of the pretty blanket I crocheted him that I still have with me. The hand picture is on top of one of our bookcases in the front room, and the other is by my bed. I can almost feel I'm holding him when I look at it.

I realize pictures might be too difficult for some moms who lose a child, but for me they have been a real help. I have one other one in a 5x7 -- it's Nathan all cuddled in his blanket, and his little hand is placed in his oldest brother's hand -- you can see Nathan's sweet face, and his arm and hand, but you can only see Paul's big 19yo "man" hand. My oldest daughter put a poem on that picture that I like a lot. I'll share it with you here. The numbers can be changed to make it work for any family. (I believe it originally had the numbers three and four....)

"we are eleven in our family
we are twelve in our family
eleven and twelve -- at the same time.
our invisible child that we carry with us
without anyone seeing him....
only when you know our invisible child
do you know our family."

(by Ingrid Marie Aase)


Blessings,

Kim

Happy Birthday, Ellie Rose!

Today is my daughter's 10th birthday! I am so blessed to have Ellie Rose as my child. She is so sweet, friendly, smart, funny, pretty, and loving! She cares deeply about people and about obeying, praising, and serving God. I cannot imagine my life without Ellie Rose, and I am so glad God sent this precious girl to me ten years ago.

There was a time (maybe just a few minutes at most!) right after I had my fifth child, Ben, that I thought perhaps it would be nice if the Lord didn't give us any more children. I contemplated being done with pregnancies and labors, late nights with little sleep, diapers and potty-training, the constant little messes, and the lack of personal time just for me.

But then the realization of all that I would be missing flooded over me, and God once more assured me that only He knew how many children we needed... only He knew just which children He wanted to place in our home. It wasn't up to me to worry about it or question it -- just to enjoy the blessings He so graciously sent our way.

So when Ben was about 1 1/2 years old, I was thrilled to discover I was pregnant again. But then a short while later, I miscarried that little baby at just 7 weeks. It was my 2nd miscarriage; I'd also lost a baby at 11 weeks in the pregnancy before I had Ben. But the pain was still fresh and hard, and I was so sad not to know my baby. Yet God comforted me, and it was such a solace to have chubby Benjamin still nursing and cuddling with me.

Then a few months later I was pregnant again -- and so happy. I held my breath until I passed that "magic" point of 12 weeks when the experts say you are most likely beyond the stage of miscarriage, despite the fact that I knew God was in charge. I was still raw after the last loss and was desperately looking forward to carrying and holding this baby in my arms. And then at almost 15 weeks, I miscarried again.

That was a terrible time. It was such a difficult physical ordeal, and I ended up in the hospital from hemorrhaging so badly, but God protected me, and I came home the same day. To an empty womb and an aching heart. Would I ever have another baby? God drew me to Him closer and closer and calmed my fears and soothed my sorrow.

And then a few months later, I was pregnant again. And nine months later, my beautiful, wonderful Ellie Rose was born. Such a joyous occasion it was -- and such a joyous child she is. She reminds me of how awesome and miraculous each pregnancy and birth is -- how valuable and special each baby is. When I held this daughter in my arms for the first time, I understood the heart of God as I never before had.

Thank you, Lord, for the blessing of Ellie Rose.