In music, a grace note is a note that is held for a brief moment...barely touched on the piano. "Grace Notes" seems like a fitting name for this blog. Our lives changed when I carried our daughter, Grace, for 9 months only to hold her (in my earthly opinion) for a brief moment. She lives in heaven with her Savior. If only that comfort, that sure hope we have, would take away the pain of missing her.

"As you do not know the path of the wind, or how the body is formed in a mother's womb, so you cannot understand the work of God, the Maker of all things." Ecclesiastes 11:5

We are always thankful for Grace.

Monday, April 23, 2012

2 Weeks

June 3, 2010 ~ Thursday, 2 weeks
Today, I feel very alone. I still go through the day to day routine. I feel like I'm just existing at times.  It's difficult for me to accept that Bob doesn't cry anymore. At least, I don't see him cry. He said that his tears stopped after the 2nd or 3rd day. I shouldn't assume that he doesn't think about Grace just because I don't see him cry or hear him talk about her. I feel that I keep dwelling on what took place only 2 weeks ago.
I tried listening to the radio again. A Kenny Chesney song came on and when I heard certain words I started crying..."There goes my life...bye bye baby good-bye".
Someone from Vanderbilt called today to confirm that Grace had Trisomy 18. We need to meet with him in August to talk about what all of this means. Someone also called to let us know that Grace will be cremated in July and they'll call when she's ready to be brought home. I told Bob that sometimes it feels like it happened a long time ago. He said that it feels like it never happened at all.
Tonight, we watched “Comanche Moon” and I lost it when Maggie gave birth to Newt. He started crying and looked like a perfectly healthy baby. Our baby never cried. I didn't hear Grace make a single sound.
Bob helped me take off the tape from my incision before we went to bed. Another “scar” gone.
June 5
I wrote out some anniversary, get well, and birthday cards. When I realized that I didn't include Grace's name on the cards, I felt guilty...like I forgot her. Should she be included?
When I got the mail today, it included so many nice cards. I read through them as I was sitting on a log in the shade. I read all of these wonderful words that are meant to offer comfort but I just don't feel comfort, peace, strength, and love while I'm crying uncontrollably. I don't ever ask, “Why?” I never will. I just can't believe that this happened to us. The cards are nice and it's good to know that our friends are thinking about and praying for us; however, they're a painful reminder.
The mail also included a letter from our insurance telling us not to forget to add our new baby to Bob's health insurance. Their inaccurate records indicate that we have an addition to our family. 4 days after Grace's death, we received a letter from our insurance telling us that they needed to review the medical necessity of Grace's ultrasound on May 20. The next day, I received a letter from them telling us that they needed to review the medical necessity of my admission to the hospital on May 20. Thankfully, they agreed on both instances that they were necessary. Should I send them a “Thank You” card?
In today's mail, I also received a letter from Vanderbilt's Genetics Department that said our appointment with them will last more than an hour, so please bring any supplies that your child might need, such as toys, diapers, or snacks. The forms they sent along need to be filled out accurately to avoid repeating tests that have already been done. What tests? And speaking of accuracy...maybe they should get their records straight. What a painful lack of communication!
June 6, Sunday
Today was our second Sunday back at church. Last week, we went to the early service. We prefer this service because there are fewer people and fewer distractions. We went to the late service today, because the girls needed to sing for Sunday School. We saw many friends that we didn't see last week. There were more tears when condolences were offered, but for the most part I think that I did well. Bob was supposed to be at Guard Drill today, but I asked him days ago if he could be excused because I didn't want to go to church without him. Just as he did last week, as soon as we sat down to worship, he put his arm around me and kept it there throughout the entire service.
The congregation sang “Children of the Heavenly Father.” I read all of the words but couldn't sing the song. We also had Communion today. I actually turned to the preparation questions in the hymnal before the service. Everything seems to have more meaning for me now...Communion, Scripture lessons, hymns. I barely got through taking Communion. Bob had tears when we sat back down. Our hymn after Communion was a confirmation hymn--#599 “Our Lord and God, Oh, Bless This Day.” It's amazing how many times Bob and I notice that the word “grace” is said during the church services now. This hymn was another hymn that I couldn't sing. Some of the phrases that brought tears were
“None of your children turn away...
From mother's arms your grace, with love did them embrace...
Baptized into your name...
May their baptismal grace become...”
The spoken words that are supposed to bring comfort, just make me cry. I think that Bob was wiping tears from his eyes, too. He said that it must be something about Communion. He also said that now he counts how many times the word “grace” is mentioned.
We usually sit in the back row in church. Normally, we say “Hi” to those walking out. Today, just like last Sunday, I just looked at the bulletin. I didn't read it, but I couldn't look at anyone. Some friends that we don't see often were in church today. They usually come only once a month because they live so far away. I avoided them because I'm sure they hadn't heard. One of our ushers who usually talks to me as he gives me a bulletin, did a double take when I walked into church. I didn't make eye contact with him. The last time he saw me, I was very pregnant. Why couldn't I face anyone?
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Some might think that we've fallen off the face of the earth. I don't remember ever being good at keeping in touch with others. Calling, writing, or sending cards hasn't been my strongest point. We've felt it was necessary to stay hidden behind our hill the last 2 years. It's how we have been able to survive...to somehow keep going when our summer plans drastically changed in May '10. Bob has always had the God-given knack for building things. He amazes us with his talent. I've built plenty of walls inside of myself without a hammer and nails...walls that need to come down. The only way I feel that I can do that is by writing. My mind goes blank when I try to talk...so many thoughts and no way of putting those thoughts into words except on paper.

Grief is such an unpredictable roller coaster ride of emotions. Everyone means well...we know that. We all want to say or do the right thing...some do, some don't. Some aren't able to overcome the awkwardness of being around someone whose baby died. We make others too sad, so it's just easier for them to stay away...easier for them. The subject is avoided and that has been more devastating for me than watching Grace die in my arms. Again...everyone means well. In the past, I've avoided others using the same poor excuses we have often heard, "I didn't want to upset you," "I don't want to make you cry," I didn't know what to say." Pretending it didn't happen doesn't work. Acknowledgement means everything. Seeing silent tears from a friend standing off to the side meant more to me than listening to the thoughtless chatter of someone who felt it was better to say something rather than nothing. That probably doesn't make sense, but many things on this earth don't.

Nothing I say is meant to hurt or blame anyone. I don't talk much about our daughters who we get to share our lives with. They are not my struggle. Life after Grace is, at times. I don't talk much about the loving support we have received either. I need to talk about the things that cloud my head...the things that keep the walls up. This isn't about me or anyone else. It's about how I can glorify God through this.

We no longer try to wrap our minds around God's plans for us. We just trust Him...and it's not easy. Our faith continues to be refined every day. For that, we are thankful.

What I share here will be difficult. I don't open myself up to many. I'm too afraid of what others will say or won't say. Maybe this will give others a better understanding of what goes on inside my head. If you think you've figured me out, please let me know, because I'm still trying to understand me.

As I just said, I want to glorify God through this. I want others to see that side of me. Some do and many don't. I continue to have a difficult time rejoicing on the outside, but I do. I have joy and peace but it is no longer the unquenchable joy and peace we long to find here on earth. My joy is found in the sure hope of heaven...the sure hope of seeing our loved ones again as we continue to miss them. It's difficult surviving someone that we imagined sharing our lives with. Thankfully, Grace shared her entire life with us, and we know without a doubt, that she lives in heaven with her Savior.