Happy Belated Father's Day

I can remember the song "Lead Me" being played so often two years ago...almost to the point of "O.K., enough already." When we finally took the time to listen to the words, we realized what a beautiful prayer this is for fathers. Being the head of the household has to be the toughest job. So many of my friends who are moms are taking on both roles as a parent with their children. There are no words to express how difficult that must be. Thankfully, we can always turn to our Heavenly Father for guidance.

The following poem was sent to me a few months after Grace died. It has given me a different perspective on the grief of a father.

It must be very difficult to be a man in grief,
since "men don't cry" and "men are strong",

no tears can bring relief.
It must be very difficult to stand up to the test
 and field the calls and visitors, so she can get some rest.
They always ask if she's alright and what she's going through,

but seldom take his hand and ask, "My friend, what about you?"
He hears her cry in the night and thinks his heart will break.
He dries her tears and comforts her, but "stays strong" for her sake.
It must be very difficult to start each day anew
 and try to be so very brave - He lost his baby, too.

Author unknown

Bob is away this week, and I have him on my mind. I wrote the following thoughts 6 or 7 months into this...around October or November of 2010. It was titled "Bob".
As Bob and I were eating breakfast this morning, I asked him if he missed me while he was at work. He said that he misses me every day. Hearing that, you'd think that he's gone all the time. He works 1 day and has 2 days off. I started laughing when he said that, because as innocently as he meant this, I thought of how true it is that he misses me. To him, it probably feels like I've been gone for months.

I’ve often wondered how we would have handled this if it happened years ago, when we were first married. Of course with God’s help. Marriage can be difficult on a “normal day”, but when something life-changing is thrown into your ideal little world, things become so different. We have become different. For us, I feel that God has strengthened an already good marriage. For that, I am so thankful.

Many have told us that losing a child is the most difficult thing that will ever happen. As a couple, I agree. It could be the worst thing, if we let it. Personally, I think that the most difficult cross I'd be chosen to carry would be losing Bob. Who would be there with his comforting arm around me while sitting in church? Who'd be here listening to me “vent”, once again, about something that I've talked about 100 times already? I already know the answer to that question…the One who never leaves or forsakes us.

I know that Bob gets frustrated with me. Our feelings are different. That's what's been so difficult about losing Grace. I've always felt as though I'm alone in this...God is here, but I still feel alone. Bob has listened to and witnessed the meltdowns and tears...more tears in the last 6 months than he's seen in almost 19 years of marriage. This is what it finally took to get me to open up and talk...to really talk to Bob. So many blessings continue to come from this.

There were, and still are, times that I’d just start crying. Bob would ask why and I would just shrug my shoulders, because I didn't know why. Now if I do, I just say, “Because I can.” I remember back to a day in August when Bob and I were sobbing in the kitchen. (Sorry for sharing that, Bob.) I said, “It's o.k. if I cry. I'll feel better.” He said, “You always say that, but I don't think that you believe it.” I said, “I believe it, because God promises that we'll see joy again,”...and we have, so many times. In our lifetime, we've been blessed with so much taken-for-granted joy, happiness, and contentment. Those things far outweigh our grief and sadness. Thankfully, the sadness only lasts for a little while…even if that ‘little while’ is the rest of my earthly life…it’s temporary.

“For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.    2 Corinthians 4:17,18

(I’m so glad that I kept a journal, or the following words of comfort would have been forgotten…2 years later.) “Though you will always think of Grace, you will also be filled with the underlying joy of knowing where she is now...in the glories of heaven, and in time, that joy will 'trump' the sorrow you now feel.”

We absolutely believe this and continue to experience joy…temporary joy that is ‘seen’ and the sure hope of eternal joy that is ‘unseen’.

We have t-shirts that say on the front "Always thankful for Grace". The Wendt girls are just as thankful for Bob and dad.

Happy Father's Day!

Strength

I wrote down these thoughts in November of 2010...6 months later.

"Grief is not a sign of weakness or a loss of faith but the price of love." author unknown

When you hear the word “strength,” what do you think about? How does it make you feel when people tell you things such as “You can get through this! You are strong! You are much stronger than I am. I could never make it through (in our case) the death of our baby.” Do you feel as if you are being strong when you go through the motions and carry on with your life like nothing ever happened...like our baby didn't die or never existed? Do I feel as though I'm being strong when I smile and say, “Fine,” or “Great,” whenever someone asks how I'm doing?

Ever since Bob and I were blessed 6 months ago to hold Grace, kiss her, tell her “We'll see you in heaven,” and watch her take her last breath as Jesus carried her to heaven, I've felt like we've needed to be strong. We're Christians ~ We shouldn't be sad...our baby's in heaven ~ We shouldn't cry ~ We should paint on a smile in spite of the pain that we carry inside. Is this strength or weakness?

Last night, I read about what it means to be strong. It's given me yet another perspective on things, in this case, on the word “strength”. I pray that it helps all of us who have been blessed with what many would call “a tragedy, trial, punishment, suffering, or 'sad' thing.” Thankfully, as Christians, we can say that God has blessed us with an opportunity.

When coping with death, grief, or any God-given test, many feel that they need to immediately jump with both feet back into their lives and/or act like everything's o.k. We’re made to feel that way in society. After all, how many days does one get to take off work when there’s a death? 3 days? We hear things like, “Well, you can’t dwell on it…You need to move on…You have other children at home that need you…” At home, I did my best to “move on”. I went through the motions of being a mom. I couldn't let the girls see me cry and was embarrassed if I cried in front of Bob when he wasn't crying. I spent the summer with my back turned, working alone outside, doing anything to try to hide my feelings. Did it work? No! Was I protecting our daughters from something? I thought so. I thought that it would be damaging for them if they saw their mom cry. The damaging part was teaching them that we shouldn't show our emotions. That's how we were raised and that's all I knew.

About 3 months after Grace died, I found out that Britt didn't even want to come home after spending the day with friends at a water park. She said, “I don't want to go home. My mom is so sad, and I don't know how to help her.” So...when I thought that I was appearing to be strong, I was really teaching them what it means to be weak. If only there was a grief class I could have taken in school.

Being strong is not pushing your feelings aside and going on with life as if nothing happened. Real strength is facing the scary, hard feelings you have, and dealing with them...with God's help. At times, I was pushing my feelings aside and trying to act as if nothing happened after Grace died. I hid my feelings as best as I could, because it seemed as though no one around me showed any sadness. I needed to see people cry. Those were some confusing days and months. I realize that no one wants to see their friends sad or crying, so what do we do? We approach them with overwhelming joy, a bunch of thoughtless chatter...saying anything to avoid “the elephant”...in our case, Grace. Up until May 20, I was the elephant...literally. For the first couple of months after her death, I felt as though she wasn't real...like she never existed. I don't remember anyone bringing up her name. If they didn't, then I couldn't either. I wanted to talk about her, and I still need to talk about her. I never know how to start the conversation but just need others to ask me questions. I can't tell you how awkward it has been since our lives changed. Awkward probably isn't the right word. I was reminded for the last 3 months of our pregnancy that I was huge. Did I need a reminder? After Grace died, there was this overwhelming, deafening silence.

Some (probably unintentionally) cause us to think that when we cry, go to the cemetery, or do other things in memory of a loved one, we are dwelling in our sadness, that we have a weak faith, or that we are stuck in the past. I call it remembering someone we love. I heard a grieving dad, Alan Pedersen, say “We weren’t meant to love our children for as long as they lived but for as long as we live.” Our family imagined spending our lives with another baby. God's plans were so different. Thankfully, He continues to help us realize that He is the One we can depend on. He truly understands.

It takes courage and strength to be real, to bare your soul, and to share your innermost feelings with others. You might wonder, “Will they judge me? Will they think that I need help? Do they even have a clue how this feels?” It takes even more strength to tell someone, “I'm really struggling today,” than it does to say, “I'm fine,” when someone asks how you are. It takes great strength to say to a friend or family member, “What you said really hurt me.”

How many of us smile when we'd rather cry? Do we say that we're fine when we're anything but fine? I'm one of those people, but I'm working on being more honest.

For about the first 3 months, I knew how many weeks it was that Grace had been in heaven. Many Thursdays made me sad. Not anymore. One Thursday someone said, “I know that you don't like Thursdays, but...” Without even realizing it, I no longer thought about them as 'sad' days. Time had helped. Now, if I cry on a Thursday, it's because I need to. It’s not like Thursdays are the only difficult day. If it's Sunday in church, so be it. I can't remember ever crying in church...o.k. I did for a few weeks when Uncle Ronnie was dying and after he died. Now I cry because every word means so much more to me. Have you noticed how many times the word “grace” is mentioned during the service? We do. Some might think that Grace’s birthday will become the one day out of the year that we’ll “be sad”. Every day is different now.

Would we change anything if we could? Never! We have a child in heaven. We pray that our other 3 girls will remain faithful to God so they can meet their sister one day, too. Yes, missing Grace is painful at times. I don't enjoy the uncontrollable emotions that creep up on me, but we truly feel blessed that God has chosen us to help carry out His will.

Remembering the hospital experience brings tears, and that's o.k. I cry when writing out another bill to Vanderbilt. In Grace's short life, she's received more mail than her sisters combined. Yesterday, as I looked for a receipt for Bob, I came across the bill for the flowers we put in church out of thankfulness to God for blessing us with our 4^th daughter and loving us so much that He wanted her in heaven. So, as I've been realizing these last few months, anything can bring the pain and tears back. There's no need to walk on your tiptoes around me. There's no possible way of avoiding a memory of Grace. She’s always with us. We shouldn't try to avoid her...she's a part of our life...let the tears come if they need to.

So, I'm going to try my hardest to start being stronger…to somehow find a way to let others know that it’s o.k. to talk about her.

“I can do everything through him who gives me strength.”  Philippians 4:13

Feeling a little stronger today...

So...was this a surprise?

I wrote this about 5 months after Grace was born and died...around October 2010.

“So...was this a surprise?”  “This was an accident then.”
“This was obviously a mistake!”

These were common things we heard when making the exciting announcement that we were expecting another child, especially when we were expecting Heather and Grace. Why do people say such things? Was it because of my age? Was it because there are 9 years between Madelyn and Heather? We could have lost babies during that stretch. In March of 2010 at Brittany's confirmation, an adult asked Britt if this baby was an accident. (I was 7 months pregnant with Grace at that time.) Brittany, being only 14 years old, had no idea what this person meant. She came to me so upset and wondered why someone would ask such a question. “Mom, how could a baby be an accident?”

My first OB appointment with Grace began with these questions, “Let me get this straight...you're 39 and you're pregnant? Do you plan on keeping this baby?” We did, but God had other plans.

From the moment Bob and I knew that we wanted a baby in the summer of '09, we began to imagine life with another little Wendt. We began to imagine what we might be doing a year from now, next Thanksgiving, next Christmas, etc. From the moment we found out that we were expecting...even before that...from the moment we began to pray for a child, we made plans to spend the rest of our lives with a child that we expected to be carrying. (Notice how "we wanted a baby...we made plans...we expected..." I can't speak for Bob, but I know that I wasn't considering what God's plans were for us. After our 2nd ultrasound, I was beginning to realize that His plans might be different. It was easy for me to put my trust in Him then...telling Him to "Bring it on!" Little did I know what was about to happen to our content family.)

For some, finding out that they're expecting might be a surprise...but not to God. With God, there are no accidents or mistakes. He may be testing someone with a pregnancy...getting them to rely on Him...possibly to bring them to repentance. In our case, I feel that He's drawing us closer to Him by taking Grace to heaven...getting us to depend on Him for strength and comfort, and reminding us that we live in a sinful world where the crosses that we are chosen to carry are a consequence of sin. (This is where I have to remind myself that we're not being punished no matter how much it feels like we are.)

How many of us ask others, “So when are you going to give 'Susie' a brother or sister? Why do you only have one child? Why don't you have any children? Why did you wait so many years to have another child? When are you going to give me a grandchild?”

Just by looking at someone we don't know what silent grief they're carrying. Someone may have just suffered a miscarriage and never had the chance to share the exciting news of a pregnancy. Some may have been praying for a child for years, but God's answer might be something different. Just because a family has several children doesn't mean that they haven't lost a child. The day we left the hospital and had to walk around Wal-mart waiting for a prescription to be filled, no one knew what had just happened to us. I was just praying that no one would ask me, “So when are you due?” Obviously, I still looked pregnant.

We don't know if the mom walking around the grocery store with her children, who appears to be healthy and looks “put together”, is wearing a wig because she's battling cancer again. I have a friend whose son came up to me 3 months after Grace died and tried to pull the hair off my head. His mom wears a wig, because she's battling cancer again. He thinks that all moms wear wigs. Heather thinks that all babies die and is confused, at times, when she sees a baby in a car seat. She continues to say, “Mom, look...there's a baby. It didn't die.”

Since Grace died, my eyes have really been opened to so many things that I never really thought about or truly understood. When I heard about someone suffering a miscarriage, a stillbirth, or death of a loved one, I felt sad for them. I cried for them when I was alone (never in front of them), maybe sent them a card, prayed for them, thought about them occasionally and that's about it. I felt sad for them. SAD? It's so much more than just “sad”. Until I experienced it, I had no clue.

After telling others that Grace died, I can't tell you how many times we heard, “Oh,” or “Oh, that's sad.” (Then quickly, they would change the subject, because that's what we do.) We had someone say that they knew exactly how we felt, “Our neighbor's dog died, and that was sad.” Or the family member that sent a well-meaning card that said, “Because we're family, we know exactly how you feel...” Nice try!

So...Was this a surprise? Our only surprise was leaving the hospital without our baby. Although we were aware that there could be a heart issue, never in a million years did we imagine that Grace would die, but God knew. We are so thankful that we have a child in heaven. As parents, that's what we pray for. We continue to pray that Brittany, Madelyn, and Heather remain faithful to God so they can meet their sister in heaven one day.

Another surprise is all that we continue to learn about our loving God and what we're learning about ourselves.

I know that this experience has already made our daughters more compassionate, aware, loving, and sympathetic toward others. I pray that they continue to be, so that they don't ask questions that are probably meant with the best of intentions, yet so painful. I look forward to seeing what will continue to come from this.

This is a little bit of a rambling vent, but it's also meant to remind us all to be aware of what we say to others. Just by looking at someone, we have no idea what path the Lord has chosen for them to walk.

The Hurt & The Healer

I chose this video with no pictures...just the words. Everyone has a different story...



Our family photo at Grace's memorial service

August 8, 2010