the carved cup
why am I sharing
It has taken me a very
long time to blog again. It isn't
because i don't have anything to say, but rather because i have so much to say
that i don't even know where to start. I
feel like i have a whole book worth of things, but no idea how to write a book.
I don't even understand the reason I feel compelled to write and share. I'm not self centered so much that I think everyone should be interested in my life. And WHY would anyone want to read this. Im not special and certainly my story pales
in comparison to many people. This is not intended to be a testimony or preaching Christianity. It is a part of the story however. My story may be quite insignificant to most, and I'm certainly ok with that. But maybe it will bring comfort in some way, or maybe for one that really needed
to read this, this is for you.
I fear that others think i still
think about, talk about, write about Asher's pregnancy, birth, his passing too
much. A lot of it is my own thinking
that my sorrow, my grief certainly can't compare to losing a child that has
been living outside the womb. Can it?
That somehow i don't deserve to feel grief. But thoughts and reality are
much different. The truth is, I am that
experience, I am him, and he and that experience has changed me. I have been told time and time again by professionals,
family, and friends that I have to be kind to myself. It has taken me nearly a year to begin to
understand what that meant. This is step
one in being kind to myself, allowing myself to a guilt free recognition of my
journey (as you can see from my self bashing in paragraph one, it's still a work in progress).
Life after Asher
After I lost Asher, and his
subsequent birth, I had the hardest year i have faced yet. A part of me thought that I shouldn't be THAT
effected by having a child stillborn.
Part of that was me being naive, a part of that was societies and even
some family's mixed beliefs on the realness of a child born still. The
mixed messages that a baby that doesn't count enough to have a birth
certificate even though he was of age to survive outside of the womb, and my body knowing inherently otherwise. but legalities and my heart and mind certainly didn't match. Because his last
heart beat was inside instead of outside he doesn't "count". Sadly this is not unique to me, many with a
similar story struggle in the same way.
It complicates grief. But the actual reality, the real life reality,
is he was and is very much a real part of our family. It has effected every part of me and the
family. I
found myself in the lowest of the lowest place i have ever been in several
months after i had him, and it has taken several more months to come to grips
with the fact that losing him has had a huge mental effect on me. PTSD, Anxiety, OCD, Depression, all hit at
once. And it was SCARY. I have been so fortunate to have had terrific
doctors and therapists that helped me get on track. But still everyone in our family has been
effected, some more than others. I had a
whole pregnancy of questions from the kids asking if maddox was going to die
too. Nearly every night. Even little
presley who can't quite grasp Asher would randomly say Asher is up in heaven,
why can't i go up there and visit him? But the bad, that isn't what i
really want to talk about. I want to
talk about the amazing, almost "impossible" things I have come to
know in the past year.
the hardest year
After I lost Asher, I was questioning every
part of my faith. I had a very hard time
going to church. I wasn't angry at God,
I was confused. Just entering church and
thinking about Jesus taking care of him now, not I, had me in tears. I had always been the, everything happens for
a reason thinker. But i couldn't find
ANY reason that was a good enough reason to lose my son. And this isn't going to say that oh there was
a reason he died. No, i don't believe
everything happens for a reason now.
What i do believe, is that through every experience comes new
learning. I owe asher for much. I have renewed faith, and I can say, that i
for certain know there is something on the other side. I'm not going to pretend
that i fully understand by any means, but things have been shown to me that in
my previous 34 years of living i hadn't seen.
I hesitate to tell these things to anyone because well, they seem
impossible, or "crazy", but these things did happen. The perception of coincidence or purpose is unique to everyone.
happen stance or signs?
Coincidence. How much can be chalked up to
coincidence? I have found myself
questioning that very question over and over this past year. I was told there would be "signs"
of him. Signs, i thought, were all
probably things the grieving search for and find only because they are looking,
and really they weren't truly a sign, rather just wishful thinking. I have written off many things in the i'm
searching too hard category. The first
night after i gave birth to Asher i had many disconcerting dreams intermixed with songs playing. The
songs were "you raise me up", and a psalm from church that i hadn't
heard in years. I don't know where they
came from, but they were a calming presence and a sense of peace amidst such
angst. I had a very vivid dream that
night. I was a dear,how odd because i've
never fancied dears. I was a dear
running through the forest scared and running for safety. I had two of my young fawns running right behind me,
and I turned my head around and watched one get shot and die. Clearly one of the ways my brain was processing the trauma of suddenly losing Asher and his delivery. What I didn't realize at the time was that the fawn would soon be my way of connecting with Asher.
A few days later, matt
and the kids were at the gym. As they
were leaving, driving out of a very busy shopping plaza, a single fawn stood in
the grass right next to them. My son
Colin when i got home said "mom! we just saw a tiny fawn right off the
side of the street all by itself!". I hadn't told
them of my dream of course, but i thought wow, what a coincidence! A few weeks later, i'm having a very rough
morning. I open up facebook and the
first thing i see on the newsfeed is a post from the PWC police about a fawn
who had managed to get separated from its mother and was stuck inside someone's
yard. while momma dear stood outside of the fence watching him. through a joint effort the fawn was rescued and
reunited it with his mother.
Now again, it could have
been coincidence, but I really started thinking that this was ashers way of
saying hello, i'm ok, and i'm here.
Since then, and over the course of the next few months I saw a single
fawn in random places as i'm driving. I
don't live in a particularly rural area, so i don't see fawns too often on the
side of roads. But I still thought,
probably coincidence, but maybe just maybe.
But it wasn't until 2 weeks before maddox's arrival that i knew. I had a very rough end to the pregnancy with
illness, and infection, and scary moments where they didn't know what was wrong.
My anxiety was awful. I felt deep
inside that maddox wasn't going to be alive.
I took my dog bella for a walk one morning. I was emotional and just kind of saying,
please God, give me a break, I need a break. then right
off the side of the sidewalk we were walking on, on a busy street (cardinal
dr.) a fawn stood. A very young fawn. and he stood about 2 feet away looking at
bella and I. It was someones back
yard. I was shocked at how he wasn't
spooked by myself or my giant bulldog.
he stayed right there, would turn and eat some grass and then turn back
to us. I felt a sudden rush of peace. As if it was being conveyed to me that everything is going to be ok. That in some way, Asher was with us. Bella and I get
home from our walk, and I was thinking ok, it's going to be ok. But the stranger than fiction part, is that
when i walk bella through the front door i see a little fawn stuffed animal
sitting on the chair. I had never seen
that stuffed animal in our house ever. I
asked my kids, "hey where did this fawn come from?" to which no one
knew. Stranger, no one claimed it as
theirs which in my house of kids is shocking.
I said, well it had to get here somehow.
Andie said presley noticed it and took it over to the chair but it didn't
come from their room. the boys said they
had never seen it, and I certainly never bought a dear stuffed animal for the
kids. That's when Colin piped up "It must be from Asher" Regardless of where it came from, or
who might have someone purchased it for one of the kids some archaic time ago, the
fact that on that day, at the end of THAT walk, i enter the house to see a
little fawn that mysteriously appeared, sitting on our chair...and that is too much to be a
coincidence.
Rainbows
In the loss
community, a baby born after a loss of a
baby/child is called a rainbow baby. The
day of my first appointment, i was nervous.
I for sure thought there wouldn't be a heartbeat. And if there was a heart beat i figured it
wouldn't last long. But at that
appointment, he was there, with a strong heart beat. Someone going through the anxiety I was isn't
appeased very long by these things. Now
that there was a heartbeat, my mind and body believed that at some point it
would stop beating. It was inevitable. I was worried almost
triple at that point. I get in the
car and drive home and as I turn the corner towards my driveway I find a perfect, big rainbow over our house. I thought for a minute, hi Asher, are you
telling me he's going to be alright? 
Even more amazing to me
was the day after Maddox was born. It was
time to take Maddox home. We get in the
car to go home and as soon as the car starts, and the radio comes on, we hear
"there should be a rainbow out there right now". Matt and I just looked at each other. And as if on cue we pull out of the hospital
parking lot to see a vibrant rainbow.
Maddox has certainly been
a rainbow. He came into this world very
peacefully, I had a very almost impossibly comfortable natural labor and delivery. There was no yelling, or crying from myself
or Maddox. Just huge relief and amazement.
As if he was born knowing just what we needed after his birth he was
extremely calm, slept for very long stretches at night, and didn't even let out
a cry the entire first week of his life.
He continues to amaze us with his awesome temperament, his amazing sleep
habits, and his continuous smiles. I
have been a different mother to him than i was with any of my other newborns. I'm not overly concerned about what time he
goes to bed, rather i let myself indulge in cuddling him on the couch after the
other kids are in bed. I soak in every
bit of him that I can. I love having him
sleep in his little bassinet right next to my bed and rather than anxiously
waiting to get him into his own room, I find myself thoroughly enjoying the
closeness. I have felt intense joy and
love and amazement with him. I have a
new lease on life in general...i appreciate all of my kids even more and am
much more laid back and focused on the things that really should matter.
the carved cup
There is a quote by
Khalil Gibran "The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy
it can contain." He goes onto
explain just as knives carve a cup, the deeper the knives cut the more liquid
they can contain. Joy and Sorrow can and
do coexist and can and do influence the other.
My cup has been carved deeper. I
have much thanks and appreciation for Asher.
Out of deep grief and sorrow I have also learned more joy than i ever
had, a greater appreciation for the small things, and perhaps one of the
greatest gifts he has given me is a peaceful contentment of death. I don't fear death, rather he has helped to
teach and show me that what i believed in is true. One day I will be on the other side and that
the other side does exist. He has managed to reaffirm the very faith I had
completely lost after his death. I have
not a death wish, but I do not fear death.
On his due date(a year
later) I went upstairs and opened up the memory box the hospital had
provided. I keep the box tucked
away. I don't open it often, but when i
feel the need I do. I just wanted to see
his footprints. I opened up the tiny box
inside of the box something i hadn't done in almost a year. it contains an impression of his feet and a
card with a saying and his birth stats.
I can't even remember looking at it when we got home. Itook it out and touched the imprint of
his perfect feet, bringing back a small rush of grief as the reality again sunk
in. He was here, even if just a short
while. Then I read the inscription on
the other side. It says "To touch
and to feel the memory of your smallness fills my heart with the blessing and
the reality of you". I didn't
realize at the time it was given to me how true those words were or how much i
would need them and his imprints. I have
small regrets that i didn't have them save a lock of hair that they offered to
do, or let my friend send a NILMDTS photographer. But at the time, i didn't want them messing
with him, he was perfect and i wanted him untouched not realizing how much i
would appreciate those things in the future.
