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Ten Years Later

     Ten years is far too long to be without your best friend. I have several "best friends", so the word probably doesn't mean the same to you as it does to me. My best friends are the people I call or text at almost any hour. They're the ones I come to first for prayer. If we decide to go on an outing and take friends, they're the ones I call. My list of best friends has changed over the years, but there are some lifers on there. If Jason survived, he would've been a lifer.
     Jason and I had a relationship that was different from others. We depended on each other in the hard times. Sure we laughed and joked, but some of our memorable conversations were difficult ones. He got me through middle and high school. If we hadn't met when we did, I honestly don't know where I'd be today. He loved "sweater weather", that time from October to March when comfy sweaters and pajama pants are in style. Christmas was OUR holiday. We marched up and down the school halls singing Christmas carols, we decorated our lockers, and we gave cards to all our friends. It's all we talked about in December (until finals week.) Jason's death was announced on November 16 2003, and one of my first thoughts was "How am I going to survive Christmas?"
     I survived it, somehow. God carried me through. That was one of the more memorable Christmases, and it wasn't all good. I wasn't ready to celebrate yet. I tried, but my heart wasn't in it. It took five years for me to adjust and celebrate the season. Sure I went through the motions, but I wasn't excited. By the time I was ready to celebrate, we were grieving two more losses. Shaun, Hope and my mom made that Christmas exceptionally special. Since then I've been able to enjoy the holiday season, and I've tried to pass some of the joy to Hope. Honestly I don't think I could ever make it through without her & Shaun.
     I've grown so much in the last ten years. I'm now able to look forward to my birthday and Christmas. I also appreciate birthdays. Every one. Even though I'm well past the quarter century and I'm inching toward 30, I'm thankful for every year. Growing older is always something to celebrate! I see each day as a new adventure, a chance to start fresh. Even if everything goes wrong from the minute your feet hit the floor, there's always the chance the next minute things will turn around. I savor time with my family. Sure we have our problems like all families, but we do our best to work through them. I am so thankful for the lessons I learned this year. Turning 27 was incredibly difficult. I was further from 25, and every month was one less in which we could conceive another baby. All I saw was darkness. Now our family is awaiting some news, and even though there's no chance of me getting pregnant, I'm totally okay with that. I'm thankful for Hope and the blessings she brings, and I'm thankful for the lessons William and my other have taught me. Happy Birthday to me (a day early!)!
   

Love Your Family, Because One Day God Will Take Them Home

I've been thinking and praying about this post for weeks, that's why it took me so long to write. I've come to some surprising conclusions in the process. November has always been my worst month. Here's why.

On my eighteenth birthday I awoke to the phone ringing. I was always the first one awake, and was usually handed my baby sister to care for. Since it was my birthday and I wanted to sleep in, I rolled over and pretended not to hear. I waited a while before dragging myself up and going to the living room to watch TV. A little while later I heard my dad and step mom coming up the stairs.

"Do you know a Jason Brink?" my dad asked.
"Yeah," I answered.
"How about an Elizabeth Shubert?"
"Yeah, she's like my best friend." I said, getting nervous.
"Well, Elizabeth called. Jason died in a car crash last night."

I don't remember anything else about that conversation. I know I asked to call Elizabeth, and I know she and I talked briefly. I also know my dad returned a short time later and wished me a happy birthday. I didn't care about my birthday, I just wanted to die. I could not imagine life without Jason, my confidant, encourager and best friend. I just talked to him a week ago! How could he be dead?

I could write a novella about that birthday and the weeks that followed. Maybe I will for NANO month. I'll spare you the details, but just know Jason was the first young person I knew who died. Sure my great-grandma died a few years before, and I'd attended the wake for an elderly church member before that, but losing a classmate is a whole different grief. I didn't understand why God took Jason. I felt it was a personal attack on me, something I did wrong caused it. I was young and didn't know any better.

In 2008 my dad called me while I was spending time with Shaun. He demanded that I go to my cousin Daven's right away. I knew by his tone something was wrong. I expected my grandma died. When he met me in the front yard and told me Evan, Daven's six-year-old son didn't wake up that morning, I was shocked. How does a healthy child die in his sleep? I'd heard of Sudden Unexplained Death in Childhood (SUDC), but never thought it would happen to MY family. Once again, a novel could be written on the impact Evan's death had on the whole family (don't worry! I'm not planning on it!). Many of us are closer for it, some have drifted further apart. We all dealt with it in our own way, each as unique as the family member grieving. Most of us tried to find a middle ground, a safe place to stand in the pit. We each handled it in our own way, none were right and none were wrong. Looking back I also feel sorry for my dad. How do you tell a child someone she loves died, twice?! It's been five years, and we're still changing from Evan's death.

Later that year I returned to college. My three-year-old daughter and I moved in with my mom, step dad and sister. I was ready to face the world as a single mom, and excited for what my education would do. My cousin Carolyn was pregnant with her fourth girl, but I didn't give it much thought. One night while I was working, Mom & Lee (my step dad) came in to Citgo to tell me they were going to see Carolyn, she was in labor and it wasn't going well. I reminded them to tell everyone hello for me, and asked that they give the new princess a kiss.

When they returned later that evening, I was disturbed by the change in their moods. Mom was confident Carolyn was dying. She didn't really understand what happened, just that it was bad and didn't look good for Carolyn. Her baby, Liberty Belle, was fine. My mom has a flair for the dramatic, so I murmured a prayer and brushed it off.

When we arrived at the hospital the next morning, there was a feeling of death in the air. So much so I was certain Carolyn had already passed. We stayed for hours, and were finally allowed in one at a time to say our goodbyes. She was in some sort of coma.*

I didn't deal with any of the deaths well to that point, but with Carolyn's I shut it aside. I told Shaun I would deal with it if and when I ever got pregnant again. I was just getting back in school, had a preschooler to worry about, and didn't have time for grief. For future reference, this is NOT a healthy way to handle loss. I would NEVER suggest it to anyone.

This brings us to another reason I lost William: I was just reaching a point in my pregnancy where I felt better, I was more energized, and ready to tackle my grief over Carolyn, Evan and even some residue from Jason. God, in his own clever way, gave me the chance to do just that. When William died I had at least four years of grief I poured out. I firmly believe that's one of the reasons it took me so long to come to a place of acceptance.

For the past nine years I have approached May and November with a certain amount of trepidation. I was terrified something bad would happen. Now I am confident if anything bad does happen, God is in control. I am no longer grieving the losses. Do I still miss them? Desperately. Do I wish I could talk to them? Every day. Am I confident they are in a better place, and I will see them again? Absolutely. I've seen many good things come from each death: Jason prepared me for a lifetime of grief, he taught me how to grieve so I could better handle it the next time, and the next, and the next. Evan taught me to enjoy every moment with my children. He taught me to be kind and always remind them how much I love them. He also taught me the importance of raising children to follow Christ, because no age is too young to return home to Him. Carolyn taught me to enjoy each pregnancy. She reminded me even in the twenty-first century mothers die giving birth in America. Tomorrow is not promised, so hold your children today.

Wow. That was long and emotional! Thanks for reading to the end.

God Bless!

*There have been several causes suggested. I don't know what is fact or hearsay. What I know for sure is the doctors had never seen anything like it. She was the only mom Good Samaritan has ever lost, and everyone was devastated. If you have any medical knowledge and would like to explain anything to me, feel free to contact me.

Share the Love

As Christians it is our job to be 'salt and light' to the world. I'll be the first to admit I'm not always the best at accepting this challenge. However, for the month of November, I'm going to pump up my efforts to spread the Gospel through my actions. When people look at me they see Jesus, and I want Him to be a Jesus they want to know.

This November is going to be an emotional struggle for me. November 5th marks five years since my cousin (and first best friend) left the world. November 15th it will be ten years since "My Jason" (our nickname for him) died. Oh and I turn 28 on the 16th. That puts me WAY closer to thirty than I would like. Needless to say I'm prepared for a roller coaster of emotions.

BUT, I'm learning to not let my emotions control me. So I've decided once again to try to spread the Gospel through kindness. Last year I wanted to do 27 random acts of kindness by the 16th. I had them all planned out, but most of my plans fell by the wayside when the bank account screamed "BILLS!!" It's not Christ-Like to give yourself into poverty, so I stopped. This year, I want to focus on telling everyone how much I love them & how thankful I am to have them in my life. I'm going to tell the kids I know that I love them, and Jesus does too. I'm going to (try) to be kind to everyone I meet, and look for opportunities to engage in conversation. I'm not gifted with the 'gift of gab', and talking to people I don't know is out of character for me, but I'm going to try. As we inch closer to the holiday season the cashiers and greeters will be overworked and overtired, and I want them to know they are appreciated. But for the grace of God, I would be in their shoes.

Now, my challenge to you: Be kind this November. Visit a kid in the hospital, Pray with someone in the nursing home, treat your cashiers and sandwich makers with dignity and respect. Take a moment and realize the stress level of customer service jobs (i.e. fast food and retail), and show compassion to the workers. Tell your family you love them, especially those related to you by blood. Show your children grace and mercy when they make a big mistake. But more than anything, remind them you love them. It may be your last chance.

Weeping Forward

     Before I get too deep in my writing today I want to explain something. I began this blog a few months ago for myself, hoping that writing about my struggles would ease them a bit. I waited a few weeks before telling Shaun about it, because I really didn't want to make it a big deal. He immediately questioned why I wouldn't share it on Facebook. I explained I was terrified of being judged. I'm one to lay it all out there, and at times I've been pretty open about my struggles. This has brought a wealth of judgement on me. When you're dealing with fertility, judged is the last thing you want to be. After a few months of talking about and praying about it with Shaun, I finally relented. Feel free to go back and read my previous posts. I'm sorry if not telling you sooner offends you. 

My women's small group is reading the book Ruth: Loss, Love & Legacy by Kelly Minter. Last week was our first week, and we talked about weeping forward. Ruth & Naomi wept forward and followed God back to Naomi's homeland following the deaths of their husbands. As I was reading the first week, I wondered if I was weeping forward or weeping backward, or just standing still in my misery. After confiding in my girlfriends, I was amazed how many of them were supportive! I don't know why this always shocks me, they are the sweetest, most understanding women I know. Yet each time I come to them with a concern or fear, I'm terrified of being judged (I'm thinking that's Satan talking...). So many encouraged me to keep weeping forward, and to not lose sight of God. One encouraged me to recommit each day to Him, until He answers. I feel our answer for now is still "Wait", and waiting is hard on me. I tend to repeat myself while I wait. Maybe that's okay. God knows my heart. He knows my fears. More than anything, I know He has plans for me, and they will all work for His glory.

This week talked heavily about sowing in weeping. Galatians 6:9 says "Let us not become weary of doing good, for in the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up." This is what I struggle with the most, especially when I don't hear from God. I want to give up. I want this "wait" to be a "no." If it's a no, I know how to work with it and can begin to accept it. "Wait" doesn't mean anything to me. Wait for how long? Wait for what? God is teaching me patience, and I'm learning to trust Him. When I struggle with doing the "right thing" even though no one is watching, I remember this verse. Don't give up. 

The other verses that spoke to me this week are found in Psalm 126:5-6

Those who sow with tears

    will reap with songs of joy.

6 

Those who go out weeping,

    carrying seed to sow,

will return with songs of joy,

    carrying sheaves with them.

As I've wept, I've tried to sow seeds wherever I can. I've been praying for the women I know carrying babies. I've prayed over the little ones in the church nursery countless times. I've prayed over the children I've cared for, my daughters teachers, and anyone and everyone the Lord has placed on my heart. Am I perfect? Not by any means! But right now there's not much I can afford to do, so I trust that God will hear my prayers and that will be enough. There are days when loving on everyone else's kids is just tough. I love them to pieces and I'm so thankful for the opportunity to love on them and pray for them, but I wonder why God just wants me to care for others, and won't let us have more of our own. I'm hoping this is just for a time, and someday we will look back on this struggle and praise God for working things out. Until then, I'll sow in my weeping and keep weeping forward. 

Missing William

This is definitely not where I expected today's post to go, but I heard a story about a boy named Will, and was suddenly struck with longing.

Most of the time when I talk about William I reference the pregnancy or the miscarriage. I repeat our deepest desire: to raise a baby of our own. I haven't ever allowed myself to miss my son, because I didn't know him. Today, I'm giving myself that right. Today I'm going to imagine my life with all my children. Just once.

My second baby should've been born in the spring of 2008. I've always felt it was a boy, so for this conversation I will refer to 'him'. He would be in kindergarten now. I hope I would be homeschooling him. Maybe he would cheer for the Red Sox tonight, like his dad. Hope would love to tease him about that. Now the fantasy stops, because if I had him I might not have married my husband, and then where would I be? I'm thankful he's in Heaven waiting for me.

William should be ten months old now. I like to think he would be toddling around the church nursery, but with his chromosome disorder that's unlikely. Knowing that, I really can't imagine my life with him. I know I would be terrified. I don't know how I would do it. Ultimately I am thankful both my babies are safe in the arms of Jesus.

I know God has great plans for me. I'm trying to keep my focus on Him. I'm trying to trust His plans are greater than my dreams. Some days are just so hard, but He's always there to carry me through.

Moving Forward

I've been mulling over this post and praying about it for over a week. Last week was rough; the government shutdown confirmed my fears about losing my job. I'm a nanny, so if my employers don't work, they don't need me. I've struggled to find a new job. Even McDonald's is hesitant to hire me with my education.

So, you would think being unemployed would dampen my desires for a child. You would be wrong. I've been praying a lot this week. My husband and I prayed together, and some friends have prayed with me. We sang a song about Grace in church on Sunday, I think it was Your Grace is Enough, but I'm not sure. As we were singing I felt God saying "Why don't you trust me? Why have you given up?" I've realized I completely gave up hope for a family. I tend to prepare for the worst and hope for the best, so I've been preparing to be finished having children. I've told everyone in the last three months we're done. It's so much easier to believe we're done and hope God will provide a miracle than it is to just trust He will do it. I'm stepping off the ledge; I'm trusting God will grow our family. I don't have to live in fear. I don't want to live in fear. I know His plans are perfect, and whatever happens will work for His good.