7 quick takes

1 - This song is just delish.  I hope you enjoy it.

2 - Here's something else I love:  Lisa and Joel Schmidt's blog The Practicing Catholic.  They have all kinds of great content, they update frequently, and they're just plain wonderful.  Seriously, you can read the fluff I write, or you can read something interesting.  Or, you know, you could do both.  And ps - Lisa was one of our bloggers at the 2012 Behold Conference.  Pretty blonde with a baby.

3 - Also have a new found love for Kathryn Whitaker's blog and tweeting.  Check out Team Whitaker.  I especially appreciate what I've read under her Motherhood and The Preemie tabs.

4 - Lastly, Karen Edmisten has a great blog and a new book that I really, really, really want to read. 

I have a lot of respect for Karen and I'm so, so grateful that she's written a book about miscarriage.  I wish I would have had a good Catholic book on miscarriage when I was going through the loss of Peter, and I think it would probably still be helpful five years later. 

5 - I'll be honest, the internet sometimes makes me feel like I'm a freshman in high school looking across the cafeteria to the upperclass cool kids table.  (Doesn't that just sound so dorky?  But it's how I think.  Dork.)  Don't get me wrong, I have a very full, fun table myself and I love the friends I have. Sometimes I wish I knew - in real life - women like Lisa, Kathryn, Karen, Grace, Hallie, Dwija, Katie, the Bright Maidens, Sarah.  They seem to be just as fabulous as my friends who I share playdates and texted prayer requests with.  And if you don't know them yet I strongly encourage you to check out their blogs, Facebook pages, and Twitter feeds.  They're funny, kind-hearted, and Catholic.

6 - Back to things I love.  This picture:

This print was done by the awesomely talented Jude Landry.  His wife Alisha and I met at a local Catholic moms' group and then they moved back to the South from whence they had come.  I don't think there was a direct connection between the timing of our meeting and their moving.  If you want to buy this print or something else similarly great check out Jude's store.

7 - And lastly, I love the tulips my loving husband brought home yesterday because tulips are my favorite flowers and I am overdue.  What a good man.

Have a good weekend, lovely people!  And check out more Quick Takes over at Jen's blog!

7 quick takes

1 - One of my favorite things about winter is the combination of a snowy night and Christmas lights.  It's so dark and cold but then there's these pops of warmth and cheer.  When the lights glow through a good blanket of snow - that's the best.  I know most people are done with winter by this time of the year, and I know a lot of us haven't gotten a lot of snow, so I guess we can just chalk this quick take up to what I missed this past December.  But that's one of the things I so love about this video - the lights on the dark snow.  And, you know, I really like the song too.

2 - Not sure if you read my most recent post for IGNITUM TODAY.  It shared some tips of what we - as Catholic, pro-lifers) can do when we or someone we know miscarries.  The amazing thing about the post was that the day before my editor posted on her personal blog about her miscarriage and shortly after me another IT contributor posted on the loss of a stillborn baby.  It was like the Holy Spirit was pushing on us to deliver a message for Him.  And then I saw this post, "An Overdue Letter to My Children in Heaven" by the Passionate Papist.  It's absolutely beautiful; I was especially touched by what his 14 year old daughter wrote to her sisters.  I really encourage you to read it!

3 - A small group of Midwestern bishops are in Rome so they can catch up and shoot the breeze with the Pope.  My bishop, Daniel Jenky, is one of them.  (Okay, I'm sure they're talking business, too.)  One of things Bishop Jenky and the men who travelled with him will be doing while there is meeting with the postulator for Sheen's beatification cause.  I don't know if I'll be privy to any information they get while there but I'm dying to know where we are!  Will Sheen be named "Venerable" soon?  The Pope could maybe tell them...  Which alleged miracle will they use?  James'?  How much longer will we have to wait?  It makes me wanna scream out, "You're killin' me, Smalls!"

4 - On Twitter there's two trends: #iusebirthcontrol and #iuseNFP.  The amazing thing is that many reasons that people list for using birth control are the reasons I use NFP.  And then some of the reasons tweeted make me think the person shouldn't be having sex in the first place.

5 - This made me laugh. 

6 - You probably don't think things like that because you're further along on the road to sanctification than I am.  But, if this counts for anything, there's only one person who makes me feel this way.  Yeah, I know, I should work on that...

7 - I need to cut out a bunch of moustaches to put on sucker sticks for Valentines.  We'll see if it happens.  People might just be getting some regular-old suckers.

Happy Weekend to you all!

7 quick takes

1 - Going out on a limb here with some 80's music.  But man, this song is so good.  And you know what, I wish I could rely on my old man's money.  It's a bitch, girl.

2 - Hey, if you want simple, awesome cookies that mix peanut butter, chocolate chips, and little else, you have got to check out this recipe.  They're gluten free if that matters to you, and it only makes a dozen or so cookies so you don't feel quite so bad when you eat the whole batch.  (Not that I have done that... yet.)

3 - Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs is pretty popular in my home right now.  Bennet prefers it because he loves the dwarfs.  He walks around the house, holding his toy hammer on his shoulder, singing "Heigh Ho!"

4 - Lydia, on the other hand, belts out, "Still I think he's rather tasty" over and over again.  It's a line from the Prince Ali song in Aladdin.  She even does the voice.  You may have heard her at Wal-Mart earlier this week.

5 - What are you making for your Super Bowl party this Sunday?  I'm supposed to bring cookies and will probably bring chocolate chip cookies but I'm definitely open for a suggestion.  Also, I may do a rendering of Skip Bayless' and ESPN's Tim Tebow - All He Does Is Win song.  Rejoice that we're not going to the same party.  (But my husband loves it!)

6 - What, you don't know what song I'm talking about?  Well pause Rich Girl and enjoy:


7 - Now on a more serious note, my new post is up over at IGNITUM TODAY.  Another Life to Remember is one part encouraging pro-lifers to stop ignoring babies lost in miscarriage and one part suggestions for what you can do if you or someone you know is miscarrying.  I hope it's helpful.

Blessings for a good, safe, fun weekend, everyone!

Peter's birthday / For Pete's Sake

Today is the fourth anniversary of our first child's due date.  It's pretty much all I have of him.  Had Peter survived the pregnancy he would be four years old today. 

I wonder if he would look like me or Travis.  I wonder if he would prefer chocolate or vanilla.  I wonder what would make him laugh.  I wish I could hear him say my name and I wish I could scoop him up in my arms.

 

Awhile ago someone anonymously mailed me an image of Christ holding a small child.  I consider it my only picture of my son and I greatly appreciate the gift.

For Peter's sake I gather prayer intentions on the 15th of each month.  The intentions can be related to infertility, the loss of a child, a failed adoption - anything that is related to the longing for a child.

As a way to honor the child I lost through miscarriage, Peter Mark, and to share your burden, please allow me to pray for you or your loved ones who are carrying the cross of infertility or loss of a child.

You may share your prayer request in the comment box or by emailing me at bonnie engstrom at gmail dot com.

Comments may be anonymous and please feel free to share as much or as little as you like.

It is an honor to pray for you! Thank you for the privilege!

loss of child support group

I am really proud to share with you that a dear friend of mine is beginning a support group for women who have lost a child through miscarriage, stillbirth, or death.  The meetings are at St. Phil's in Peoria and the first one is this Monday, September 12th at 6:30pm.

 

I encourage you to come, no matter how recently or long ago you lost your child!  

 

They are also planning a healing retreat for October 22nd.

 

Below is the information from their Facebook page.  Please pass it on to anyone who may be interested in being involved in the future.

 

May the peace of Christ be with you all!

 

Have you, or has someone you know, experienced the miscarriage, stillbirth, or death of a child? We will be starting a monthly support group for women who have experienced these events in their lives. The group will meet in the Sacred Heart room at St. Philomena Catholic Church starting on September 12th from 6:30 - 8:00pm. Please tell anyone whom you think would like support in these areas.

*The Sacred Heart room is located under the rectory; enter the basement on the north side of the building.

The first annual healing retreat, also called "A Mother's Love," will be on October 22nd. More details to come...

the sorrow and the grief

Holy Week was emotionally exhausting.  Some good friends, 38 weeks into a healthy pregnancy, lost their first child.  The funeral was probably the saddest and yet most joyful I've ever been to.  Our hearts go out to them and I ask you all to join me in praying for the family of Caleb Benedict.

For Travis and I it brought to the surface many, many feelings of sorrow and grief.  Watching our friends grieve while placing their hope in God took us back to the first hours, days, and weeks of the NICU while also speaking to exactly where we are now.  Balancing questions and worry with blind faith in a good God.

But our friends' loss made me hurt for Peter more than I have for a long, long time.  It has always been hard for me that Peter's body - only about 4 weeks old - was just "broken down" by my body and then passed.  I wish I could have held his body, studied this fingers and toes and lips, memorized his size and shape in my arms.  I wish I could have breathed his scent, washed his body, dressed him in special clothes.  I wish I could have given him a dignified burial.

Because it is one of my favorite posts I am reposting below something I wrote in January 2010.

January is the month that our first child, Peter, was due to be born. The 15th was his official due date, and it was a day that came and went without tears, just a brief acknowledgement that it was here and he wasn't.


I know that if Peter would have survived then Lydia would not be here, which is a tricky truth.

I bring him up, not for condolences, but because I want you to remember him the same way I do. He is always present to me as a great litany of questions and imagined features, giggles and hugs.


I suppose, more than anything, I want people to be more compassionate to mothers who have miscarried and to their families. I still grieve for the child I never knew.

The cross of being super fertile

You have to read this post by DoctorGianna at her blog, The Children I Cannot Hold.  She compares people who are infertile with people who are "super-fertile", as she calls them.

I was very moved by what she wrote, and was going to leave a long comment.  Instead I'll just blog my thoughts here.  :)

Trav and I have 4 kids, our first was lost to miscarriage, a 2 yr old, an 8 mo old, and I'm 6 mo preggo.


My husband and I DO practice NFP, just maybe not very "well". (har har)  We were able to use it successfully to achieve our first two pregnancies, and to not achieve pregnancy for awhile after the miscarriage.

After our firstborn I was too tired to chart and conceived our 8 mo old while we were "recklessly having sex", as I jokingly say. The baby I'm carrying now was conceived P-6.  (For those not up on their NFP jargon, that's 6 days before peak day, which is the most likely day of ovulation.  It is technically within the realm of fertile days, but usually sperm only lives 2-3 days in a fertile woman.)

We feel like God is blessing us abundantly, but I also feel very strongly that this is MY path to sanctification. There are a lot of crosses to be carried every day, including the cross of knowing that other women would trade everything to be in my place.  When Lydia whines while Bennet fusses, or when the naps just don't seem to want to happen, or the poopy diaper leaks all over the entire outfit I just put on the freshly bathed child I sometimes want to roar curses.  Afterwards I apologize to God and the kids, and I remind myself that I need God's mercy, and these crosses have been given to me by God, handpicked by Him especially for me.  I need to try to do my best with them.

At the risk of being redundant, I want to be perfectly clear:  my children are enormous blessings.  It is the craziness, physical pain, exhaustion, frustrations, etc. that come with them that are the crosses.

Of course there is a difference in the crosses borne by those who are infertile and those who are super-fertile, but we all should be mindful that God opens and closes the womb as He sees fit.  I have experienced infertility through the loss of Peter; I am currently in a "super-fertile" stage.  Yet I am very aware that while we may have more children, we may not.  Kaitlin at More Like Mary - More Like Me said it beautifully when she wrote that children are ONLY gifts and they are ALWAYS gifts. 

Oh Mother Mary, St. Elizabeth and St. Hannah - pray for us!

I've been thinking about infertility

As most readers of this blog know, in May 2007 I miscarried our first child.  It was a painful loss and feelings of grief, blame, inadequacies and guilt were overwhelming.  What caught us off guard but was just as painful was the lack of support for parents like Travis and I, especially within the context of the Catholic Church, and the lack of recognition most pro-life people gave to our first child.  I don't blame those people for how they reacted or didn't react; had I not gone through the process myself I too would not know what to say or how to act with a miscarrying mother.  Yet I believe that as a pro-life community we should and can do much better. 

In the past few months I've become aquaintenced with several Catholic women who struggle with infertility.  The pain, sadness and frustration these women feel is palpable.  A few of them have shared about problems they've had for years that, when brought to the attention of their ob/gyns, were just masked with the pill while they were unknowing teens.  Later, when they began to ask questions they were told they'd never be able to have children and that was that.  No seeking other treatments, no getting to the cause of the problem, just a band-aid and a meaningless "I'm sorry."

To an extent I can understand how these women feel, but only to an extent.  After that I wonder how much it hurts when they hear us good, procreating Catholics - blessed with fertility - make comments about "how Catholic could they be - they've been married for x many years and have no kids."  I know those types of comments are made because I've heard them said and I've made them myself.  Shame on all of us.  Shame on me. 

So this morning I googed Catholic infertility and you know what I found?  Blogs and two Catholic websites offering links, support and prayers.  All but one of them seem to have been created by families struggling and feeling alone.  Yes, there was a statement on reproductive technologies from the USCCB (very good), but the 7th top find claimed to be Catholic and then offered help finding a sperm donor...  ummm... no.  Once again, as a pro-life community we can and should do much better.


So here's a question to you, if you are struggling with the inabiltiy to concieve what would you want?  Someone to listen? 
A way to submit your name for Mass intentions?
A support group of some kind?
Messages of support and kindness?
Education of some kind?
I'm not sure if anyone will want to comment, but I want to listen if you want to talk.


Good links I found:
http://www.catholicinfertility.org/
http://www.hannahstears.org/index.html
http://www.usccb.org/prolife/issues/nfp/treatment.htm


Related posts:
Miscarrying Peter
How to Support a Miscarrying Mother

Peter's would-have-been birthday

January is the month that our first child, Peter, was due to be born.  The 15th was his official due date, and it was a day that came and went without tears, just a brief acknowledgement that it was here and he wasn't.

I know that if Peter would have survived then Lydia would not be here, which is a tricky truth.

I bring him up, not for condolances, but because I want you to remember him the same way I do.  He is always present to me as a great litany of questions and imagined features, giggles and hugs.

I suppose, more than anything, I want people to be more compassionate to mothers who have miscarried and to their families.  I still grieve for the child I never knew.

How to support a miscarrying mother

A friend wrote recently asking for advice for how to best support a relative through a miscarriage. This is the list I gave her, all of which are things I would have appreciated while I was losing and grieving our first child. I've added a few more things and I would love to hear from others who have more suggestions. Everyone grieves differently, so everyone needs something different, but I do believe that our society does not know what to do with a miscarrying family.


1 - Say, "This really sucks," or "I have no idea how hard this must be for you," in a strong, convicted way. After awhile I got tired of the "I'm sorry"s and the "Are you okay"s. I didn't necessarily need everyone to understand, I just wanted them to affirm my grief.


2 - Offer to help them find someone they can talk to who has miscarried. Because I knew of no one else, I found strangers via the internet. Having someone understand who was willing to listen was wonderful. Please feel free to share the link to my blog where I talk about my first child, or my email address which can be found on my profile.


3 - If the parents named their baby then call the baby by that name. It frustrates me when people who know Peter's name don't use it. I feel like yelling, "Hello! He exists!!! His name is Peter Mark!" Further, if they say they have 3 kids (but only 2 are living) then you should always say they have 3 kids, too. I think people don't refer to Peter because they don't want to bring something painful up, or they feel awkward about it. But any time someone acknowledges my first child I feel like they are respecting his life, our love for him and our pain.


4 - Go see them, and don't ask, tell them you're coming and make sure the time will be a good time. Bring some meals or restaurant gift certificates and be ready to do a household chore or sit and talk or just drop everything off. If a born child had died people would come to support the family at the funeral, etc. Their church, coworkers and friends would organize meals and bring groceries, but when a family loses an unborn baby the world says "sorry" and then keeps going. That's not enough though, and we all need to do a much better job at recognizing the dignity of every life and treating every death as one to be grieved.


5 - If you can't visit then send flowers or a card. Offices will pass around a sympathy card when a coworker's relative dies but usually not when someone miscarries. I deeply appreciated the concern that came via the phone and internet but the one sympathy card that came meant more than almost everything else. That person didn't expect me to share my feelings and I didn't feel obligated to return her message, but she took the time to buy a card, write a heartfelt note, look up my address and mail it to me. It makes me cry just to think about the way she gave dignity to my grief in that gesture.


6 - There is a small book called The Christmas Box about a woman who mourns the loss of her child at the grave, which is marked by an angel statue. The book helped me cry out a lot of my emotions. Also, grieving parents have erected many of those statue around the nation (search Angel of Hope or Christmas Box statue). My cousins, who have lost 3 children, are huge supporters of the book and visiting the statue. Giving the book as a gift with the nearest statue location may also be a nice gesture.

7 - Send the parents the link to the National Shrine of the Holy Innocents. They can enter their child's name in the Book of Life. A candle always burns in the memory of the babies who have died before birth and a Mass is offered for them and their families once a month.

8 - Send them the link to Share, which offers pregnancy and infant loss support. The information there may help them feel more normal in their grief, and it would probably also help you to understand what they're experiencing.

Trick or Treating and the Day of the Dead

Trick of Treating was a success! Between EC and our neighborhood we collected almost $70 for Unicef. Travis and I are both really glad we did it - not only did we get to show off our daughter, raise money for a good cause, score a couple of pieces of candy, but we also got to meet our neighbors! That last bit was so great! If you have trick or treaters yourself, I would highly encourage you to let them Trick or Treat for Unicef next year. We only had one house that didn't want to give, though we definitely caught almost everyone off guard when we turned down their candy.

Today is the Feast of All Saints, wherein the Catholic Church celebrates all those holy souls in Heaven. Tomorrow is All Souls Day, when we remember and pray for all our loved ones who have passed away (this is for everyone in Purgatory). There will be a Mass for the dead at 10:30 am at the Cathedral in Peoria on Sunday. Also, at 3:00 pm at Resurrection Cemetery on Allen Rd there will be a prayer service for all babies lost in pregnancy or infancy. We will be attending on behalf of Peter Mark. If you or anyone you know has lost a baby I welcome you to come. While it will be a Catholic service, anyone of any faith should feel comfort.

April - a month of anniversaries

It was 2 years ago that Travis came to me and said he wanted to date me and that he was confident it was God's will that we do so. Having very recently figured out that I loved him beyond friendship, I agreed to give it a go.

It was 1 year ago that Travis and I embarked on our great Scottish honeymoon. We came back from that adventure better friends and more in love than ever.

Not so coincidentally, it was also 1 year ago that I became pregnant with our first baby, Peter Mark, who would have been born in January.

Our first baby

This is the week that my due date for our first baby fell in. On the actual date itself I went out of town to visit friends and be with people I could cry in front of and also attend Mass celebrated by a friend and offered for Peter.
The day was spent visiting and catching up with wonderful Catholic friends. And I had an excellent chai tea.

The best gift, though, was that the first reading at Mass was from the beginning of 1 Samuel - the story of Hannah's grief over not having a baby. I have been attracted to her since early in college and it brought me great comfort to mourn with her a little.


But it is still tough, and though I am almost 7 months pregnant with our second child, I would still appreciate your prayers as I continue to grieve. Pray for Trav, too. It's different for him, but still a loss.

Catholic Comfort

In the past few weeks there have been a few things I've pondered and mostly they surround the Almighty God and what part He played in my miscarriage.

When I first began to feel like something was WRONG I called a friend who is a pediatric nurse. "Stop doing whatever you're doing. Get off your feet and put them up. Call your doctor or the ED. And pray to Mother Mary!" was her advice.
I did all of these things. And I prayed and prayed to the Blessed Virgin. Surely she would understand how horrible it would be to fear for the life of your child. Surely she would intercede for me to her Son and things would happen. Surely.
And I called on my old friend St. Elizabeth, my confirmation saint and mother of John the Baptist. She too would understand my fear of losing a child and having an empty womb.
And at adoration that night I implored our Eucharistic Lord to give me my child, to not take him from me, to not do this to me. And I hoped that, like Hannah, God would hear my prayer and would give me a child. I had seen Him do it before; surely He would do it again.
And surely He did not.
I am not mad at my Lord. Nor am I all the saints and angels I called on to pray for me. I do not feel forsaken by the Almighty, nor bitter towards Him. My guess is that while I was praying for a life, everyone else was praying for strength and grace.

A few other things:

I read recently from C.S. Lewis this: "You do not have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body."
This is another reassuring reminder of our Creed. My child is not dead. And just like all the saints, he is living life fully.

Throughout this I have often felt scared and unsure. Unprepared, alone, misunderstood and lost. And I wonder if this is how Joan of Arc felt. Going before the king, leading the French army in battle and being tried and condemned for being a heretic are not the same as suffering a miscarriage, but I do think the feelings may have been the same.

I also wonder if Elizabeth, who did not have John until she was an old woman, had miscarried herself. I wonder if now she is surrounded by a family, much bigger than she ever knew. And I wonder if she would have grieved for the child she thought she could never have. I feel that she, Mary and Joan have given me much strength these weeks.

And finally, the other night while driving I suddenly remembered something a priest told me once. Mother Teresa had said this to him many years ago in a letter: "Jesus must really love you, because you will suffer." For the first time in the 4 years since he said that to me I finally understand and appreciate it. It brings me comfort and I feel closer to Heaven than I ever have before.

Resources & a lack thereof

There are no women in my immediate life who have experienced a miscarriage. Most everyone knows someone else, but no one has come to me and said, "yes, it happened to me x number of years ago - I know how you feel." While I have Travis, it's not the same as another woman and I have felt alone in much of this, especially in the lack of validation from someone who knows what I'm feeling.

If there is a lesson to be learned in this, I believe it's that something needs to be done to help the mothers, fathers, families and friends who suffer a miscarriage. As it is, it's just not good enough.

Here are a few links which have proved helpful to me in this last month:

A person's a person, no matter how small - this might be cheesy to you, but I've always loved this and it felt safe.
Share - this contains a link to the Angel of Hope, which has a special connection with my family
One woman's story
Radical Catholic Mom - I actually found this blog while trying to find resources online. She was further along in her pregnancy, but we miscarried about the same time - early May. Her posts were comforting - she too is exhausted, grieving, faithful and living everyday life.


But in the end, no pamphlet or website is quite good enough. Maybe it's not realistic, but I envision a network of women in an area who have miscarried. Then my doctor could have added, "Here, take this. I encourage you to call this number or email this address. It will put you in touch with women who know how you feel." Or maybe a way of doing things at our churches so that when I miscarried I would have known who to reach out to.
I have an intense desire for a Mass with family and friends. Maybe that will help me feel like something was done.
I don't know. What do you think?

The sad month of May

So here it is; I'm really hoping this will be therapeutic.

In late April Travis and I thought we might be pregnant. After Mass one Sunday we went to the drug store and bought an ept. This felt funny to me. I kept thinking, "People are going to know that we did it!" I was embarrassed and tried my best to hide it, especially from the people who had also just come from Mass. But I was so excited and wanted a baby.
In the end, there was just one line. Not pregnant. But Travis didn't care. "It's just too early. You're pregnant and we're going to have a boy."

To make a long story short, I was pregnant. On May 7th I took the test again and it was positive. On the 9th the doctor's office called to confirm it and we went to our parents' homes to tell our families. On the 10th there was bleeding and cramping. The 11th I went to the doctor who said things were "worrisome." And on the 12th we found out I had miscarried.

Here's the thing. When we went to Scotland I asked a woman if we should go to the Battlefield at Bannockburn (where the Scots, led by Robert the Bruce, defeated the English). She said yes, but that it wasn't just a field any more. Homes were built up all around it. "It was major, but life goes on, ya know." So that was the approach I tried to take. We told a small group of friends, many of whom didn't even know we were pregnant. We felt overwhelmed with grief - I certainly didn't want to be overwhelmed with phone calls. So I grieved on my own or with Travis. Life goes on. But that was stupid. In fact, I think that this grieving thing would be easier if more people knew.

We had a son. He has a name. He would have been born in January. With God, Travis and I created a new, unique, little soul. I felt him in me, or at least felt the effects of him in me. He deserves to be loved and acknowledged, even if his life was only 2-3 weeks in my womb.

We call ourselves pro-life, but we focus mostly on abortions. Well, what about people like me and Travis? Where are the links for grief counseling on the Diocesan website for us? Why isn't there a section in NFP literature that explains what my body will be doing after a miscarriage? Why didn't someone tell me, as soon as they found out I was bleeding that I could save the blood and anything else.
What the hell does the doctor think he's saying when he tells a Catholic, NFPing woman to "Chin up. Think positive," when her first child has died. He has pamphlets on breastfeeding, epidurals and the pill but nothing to offer a woman who has lost her child. I know miscarriages are common - he deals with women like me every week - he should have something more than "Don't worry. You're healthy. It's not your fault. You'll be okay to have more."

I know it's not my fault, but you telling me that there was a fatal defect in the chromosomes in my son so that my body rejected him does not make me feel better. I don't care what the science is - a baby is supposed to be safe in his mother's womb. I can know it's not my fault and still feel like crap about it.

And of course we will have more, but that doesn't make up for the one we lost. Our first.

I am angry and sorrowful. But what I am most upset about is the lack of a dignified burial. I was told God does not expect us to do the impossible, but I wish I would have done something. The feelings of guilt, however, are nothing compared to the helplessness.
There's a feeling of emptiness, too. Empty womb, empty arms.

And it can be hard to be around babies. But at least I can look at an image of the Infant Christ now. I couldn't do that for weeks.

Here is the tricky part: Life does go on. We make dinner and see friends and watch movies and pick out kitchen cabinets. But I want you to know that I do want you to acknowledge him. And tell me the good things that are happening in your life. And give me a call and catch up. Just please, instead of telling me that it's not my fault, or that it'll be okay, or just that you're sorry, will you please say, even if you can't understand, "You're right, Bonnie. That sucks."

Travis and I are parents. We have one son, Peter Mark, and no matter whose singing voice he inherited, I'm sure he sounds just beautiful praising before the throne.