8/31/2011

I've had one reoccurring thought since my miscarriage: what happens next?

In a strange way I feel like I'm waiting for "the other shoe to drop." I'm waiting for some other terrible thing to happen.

My son developed a fever a few days ago. He was up many times in the night. I gave him some medicine for his ouchies and fever and tucked him bed again... and again. One of the times I was up with him I had a lingering fear that he was dying. I kept thinking that he would die in his sleep that night. The last time I tucked him in, he told me that he'd seen angels in his dreams. "God's good angels. And rainbows too, Mommy." My mind wondered again, "What happens next? Is my son next? Is this my last conversation with him, hearing of his beautiful dreams of being with God?" I know that I can't trust my sleep-deprived, middle-of-the-night thoughts, but this wasn't the first time I'd had such fears seem so real.

I keep pleading with God. I tell Him that I'm not strong. I remind Him that I am not Job and could not handle losses like Job endured. My deepest fear is that my miscarriage would mark the beginning of an ongoing season of loss. I don't want to lose any more. I don't want to lose my kids. I don't want to lose my husband.

These thoughts are irrational. These fears make no sense. There is no reason for me think that I'll be dealing with the loss of my kids or my husband or anyone close to me any time soon. But the irrational thoughts and fears remain, as unfounded and crazy as they may seem.

I remind myself of God's goodness and the fact that He has led us thus far. I remind myself of many others who have suffered miscarriages but later conceived again and carried healthy babies to full-term. Then my mind goes back to our history of infertility. Then I'm back to the question: What next?

Will we welcome any more children into our family? There is a 4-year-4-month gap between my daughter and my son. There would've been a 4-year-2-month gap between my son and our miscarried baby. Now what? Will it be another 4 years before we conceive again? Will God miraculously intervene? Will He lead us through an adoption miracle in a way we cannot even imagine right now? Will we conceive again and miscarry again? Will we remain a family of 4 and learn to be content that way?

Many questions. No real answers. Maybe I shouldn't be thinking about the future, for it will play itself out one day at a time. And each day has enough trouble of its own - why borrow more from tomorrow? True enough.

Maybe I'm crazy and this post gives you a glimpse into my insane thoughts. I wonder if it's common to have these types of fears during seasons of grief.

For now I live each day, trying my best to enjoy my children, my husband, my life. Living in light of eternity, knowing that at any moment this life could be over, and yet trying not to fear that day coming sooner than I'd like. And I trust in verses like this one: For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all (2 Cor 4:17). With an eternal perspective, our troubles on earth are small and temporary. And with a big God... He can handle our fears and doubts and sorrows and weave them into something beautiful and glorious somehow. I'm banking on it.

8/23/2011

Here's a description of what grief looked like for me, as we get to the 9-weeks-since-my-miscarriage mark. I'm also doing my best to describe what I see God doing through this situation.

MY GRIEF

There were days that I felt like David when he wrote this in Psalm 13: "How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart?"

I had a week or two when I didn't want to talk to or see anybody. I didn't answer the phone. I didn't make any plans to do anything. I stayed home. I isolated myself. And I grieved. I also had a week or two when I didn't want to think about what happened, so I lost myself in a huge book series that kept my thoughts elsewhere. As much as possible, I put life on hold and just thought about anything other than our lost baby. All of this is common for grieving people to go through, as a normal stage of grief - denial and isolation. These are days that feel dark and gloomy, where the sun doesn't seem to ever shine.

There have been some days more recently when I can relate more to David in Psalm 30 where he wrote: "Weeping may endure for the night, but joy comes in the morning... You have turned my mourning into joyful dancing." I can say now that the fog is lifting. The sun is starting to shine again. I find myself at a different stage of the grieving process - the place of acceptance.

Of course, the deal with grief is that you can move between stages at any time. It seems that it only takes a small event or word to be a "trigger" that puts me back in a place of questioning, denying, crying, etc.

I have said before that grief comes in waves. It crashes over me, often in unexpected ways and at unexpected times. Recently we started singing this worship song at church - Holy Love by Andy Park. A few lines from the song have challenged me - "Like a crashing wave pouring over me, holy love, flow in me! Many sorrows cannot quench Your love. Darkness cannot overwhelm it." Since those words have settled in my soul, when I find that a wave of grief is crashing over me, I am consciously turning my thoughts towards the love of God and picturing it as the next wave to come crashing over me. The thing with waves is that one always follows another. Sorrow and grief, followed by God's overwhelming love.

WHAT GOD IS DOING THROUGH THIS

God's Word says that "we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose." So I can know that He is working things for good out of this situation. And although I certainly don't claim to know the mind of God, I can see some glimpses of His "working things for the good."

* Because of our miscarriage, both my husband and I have had a stronger-than-ever desire to be more intentional, to be more biblical, to be more godly in the way that we raise our children. Therefore my husband has started a family Bible study that we all take part in each evening. This has become the highlight of our day and the children miss it when we skip it for any reason. God is calling our family into a deeper relationship with Himself, deeper into His Word, deeper into His purpose for our lives. And it's a beautiful thing.

*My brother, who lives in Wisconsin, shared our situation as a prayer request with two men at his church, as part of a small group setting. It turned out that both of those men had wives who had miscarried. And this simple prayer request led to a deeper discussion for them about the pain, the grief and how they handled it. One mentioned that he had handled it very badly and been a jerk to his wife about it. He vowed to make things right with her. He also wanted to do something for us, so he purchased a book and mailed it to us as a way to show that he now understood the weightiness of the matter. I find it amazing that God can use something we're going through to bring others to a point of healing.

*I also know that one of the mightiest ways God uses difficult circumstances is to turn us into ones who can minister to others going through similar difficult circumstances. Just weeks before our miscarriage, some friends miscarried. Both my husband and I felt deep sorrow for them and we tried to express our support for them. Yet now that we have experienced miscarriage ourselves, our support would be very different and our understanding would be much greater. No loss is ever exactly the same, so nobody can truly say and mean "I know exactly what you're going through. I've been there. Done that. Know it completely." Every loss is different, but ones of who have experienced deep loss can relate more with the feelings and the grief of others who experience deep loss.

*Loss of any type is hard on a marriage, but losing a child significantly increases the likelihood of a couple divorcing. Why? Because spouses grieve differently and tend to drift apart in their grief, rather than coming together in their grief. I am so very thankful that the Lord has been gracious to my husband and myself, in allowing us to grieve together and to become stronger through this loss. Stronger. Gentler. Closer. United in purpose and mission. More precious to one another.

*I've mentioned this before, but death helps put life into perspective. Our family, including our two young children, have a better perspective of life now. We understand heaven more. We long for eternity more. More than ever we want to live lives that give glory to God. We want to be intentional about serving Him with whatever days we have. And when our lives on earth are done, we look forward with great anticipation and excitement to what comes next.

I end with the lyrics to a song entitled "Bring the Rain" by MercyMe. I share it because it is my story and the cry of my heart also.

I can count a million times, people asking me how I
Can praise You with all that I've gone through
The question just amazes me
Can circumstances possibly
Change who I forever am in You
Maybe since my life was changed
Long before these rainy days
It's never really ever crossed my mind
To turn my back on you, O Lord
My only shelter from the storm
But instead I draw closer through these times
So I pray

Bring me joy, bring me peace
Bring the chance to be free
Bring me anything that brings You glory
And I know there'll be days
When this life brings me pain
But if that's what it takes to praise You
Jesus, bring the rain!

I am Yours regardless of
The dark clouds that may loom above
Because You are much greater than my pain
You who made a way for me
By suffering Your destiny
So tell me what's a little rain
So I pray

Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty!

It's been 8 weeks since my miscarriage. I wonder how long I'll be counting weeks like this... not the kind of counting of weeks I would've liked. I would've been 16 weeks along in my pregnancy at this point. Definitely showing. Definitely in some maternity clothes. Definitely elated.

I find that few people know what to do with a grieving mama.

• The majority of folks just don't bring it up. Don't talk about the baby, the miscarriage or the grief. It's easier that way. And I know they don't want to make me cry. So we don't talk about it.This isn't really helpful, however. Most grieving people want to talk about their loved one, the one they've lost. It is healing to talk about what we're feeling.
  
• A handful of folks consider the grieving person to be "broken" and in need of fixing. So I have had a few people talk to me as though they are taking me on as their personal project, to fix me back up and make me joyful. As though I just need to "get over it" - the grief, that is. If sadness and grief is bad, then do away with the bad and get back to the good. Looking at someone who is grieving in this way isn't helpful either. They don't need fixing. They need healing that comes from time, from compassion, from processing through what they are feeling. Grief is a process that cannot be rushed and nobody should be pushed through it or made to feel like they are taking too long.
  
• Unfortunately the smallest group of people are those who understand. They have often gone through a deep loss themselves so they can empathize. They don't hesitate to bring up the loss. They know that talking about it helps and shows that they truly do care. They respect whatever is shared - the good, the bad, the ugly, the truth and the lies - about how one is feeling. They respect the process and know that it will lead to eventual healing.
  

I find comfort in this beautiful hibiscus plant that is growing in our yard. A friend from church gave us this and encouraged us to plant it as a memorial, to remind us of our baby. We did. I wasn't sure how much good it would do, but I find that I very much enjoy looking at it each morning. It's regularly full of beautiful blooms. It encourages my heart and brings a smile to my face. Looking at it is like letting the sun peak into the darkness of my sorrow.

While reading a a book written for grieving parents, I was strangely comforted by this thought: "Life is for the living." This life is for those living it here on this earth. It isn't for those who have passed on. They are gone from this life. This life is for those of us who are left and it will only last for a short time. And this life isn't all there is. There is eternal life yet to come. But for now, this life is for those left here to live it. So life goes on... for me, my husband and the two children who are still here.

And my thoughts remain torn between life here and life there. Schedules, homeschool, meal prep, child training, couponing and a dozen other things consume my thoughts as I live life here. But many times a day my thoughts turn to life "there" - eternal life, time with Jesus, time with my child, spiritual maturity, worship of my Lord and King, walking on streets of gold.

Some other time I will share about some of the ways I see God bringing good out of this situation, because I do see some these small glimpses of light in the darkness. And I will share more about how my grief is affecting me and my choices in life. Next time...

8/17/2011

MORE OF THE DAY TO DAY: After thinking more about what I shared in the previous foster parenting log, I wanted to correct a false impression I may have given. Although it was very crazy and intense having Jason and Amy with us, it was not mass chaos 100% of the time. 99% of the time, yes. But there were a few instances when it seemed that we were connecting with them.

We saw progress in Jason over the days they were with us. He stopped biting. He was hitting less. He started to use "please" and "thank you" on occasion. He started to respond to consequences ("If you continue to do ___________, then you will sit in the time out chair. Do you want to sit in the time out chair? No? Then stop doing what you're doing"). I did not see any progress with Amy, but hers were not as much bad behavior issues as they were related to her disability (something similar to autism) so it will take intense therapy to even hope to overcome them.


Both children were sick with fevers over the weekend they were with us. This turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Both spent more time laying around, wanting to be cuddled, wanting to be read to. Being sick allowed them to allow us to parent them and they could do nothing but accept our love.

HOW DID OUR BIOLOGICAL CHILDREN RESPOND TO THIS PLACEMENT: We learned a lot about our own children as a result of having Jason and Amy in our home. My 8-year-old daughter was able to roll with most of what came our way, but she did not enjoy it. She is excited about foster care and is anxious for us to take in some children. But once the new children come, it doesn't take long for her to wish they were gone. She's honest about it and she lets us know how she feels. She didn't do well with the chaos that Jason and Amy brought to our home. She spent more time in her room by herself, lost in her books. She walked away from meals, saying that she would eat later, because she couldn't handle the noise level at the table with all 6 of us present. On the positive side, though, since she is older she was able to be consistent in good behaviors and habits - not being influenced by the bad behaviors going on around her. I was very proud of her for that!


My 3-year-old son is a different story. He was basically the same age as Jason and soaked up Jason's bad behaviors like a sponge. For example, my son did not have an issue with biting people, but two days into this placement (with Jason introducing biting as a way to respond to your anger) he started biting others. It was ironic that Jason gave up biting a few days later but my son continued with it. And like my daughter, my son also expressed that he wanted Jason and Amy to go home after a day or two of having them with us.

Both my son and my daughter knew that the rules in our house were changed because of these foster children. Certain things (like homeschool) were put on hold. Certain behaviors that we don't tolerate in them were now tolerated in the foster children (like the rudeness, the running in the house, etc). The amount of attention that our kids were used to was greatly diminished and they were expected to be more independent, taking care of things themselves without parental help simply because parents were busy with more immediate dangers/issues. There was an inconsistency that our kids picked up on immediately.

WHERE DO WE GO FROM HERE: Experiences like this make us examine our desire to foster. We are not wanting to sacrifice our children on the altar of ministry. We are not wanting our children to resent us for spending more time with foster children than we did with them. We are wanting our children to see us loving others, loving the least of these, welcoming children and orphans and guests into our home.

So we are left again wondering if this is the season of life we should be fostering or if our desire to foster should be put on hold for a few years. Clearly my daughter at age 8 could handle having younger children in our home without major influence on her behavior. Maybe we should wait until our son is closer to that age as well. Or maybe we continue what we're doing and just know that we will spend time de-programming our children after foster children leave our home. It takes time to re-adjust to normal life and normal rules. And we would just know that they could change again at a moment's notice. Of course, this placement was also WAY harder than a normal placement. The issues were all magnified. We've had similar issues with other placements but not to this extent. So maybe we should not "throw the baby out with the bath water" because of this one week of a difficult experience.

WRAP UP: In foster care circles, there is a large emphasis placed on the fact that foster children are not in foster care because there is something wrong with them. They are in foster care because their parents somehow failed as parents. While this is true - foster children are not broken, defective children - foster children often do have "issues" as a result of their broken, defective family lives. These two children have been deeply affected by their parents' choices. Without the grace of God and the intervention of others, their lives are not headed in a positive direction and their futures seem nearly hopeless.

The only hope for Jason and Amy rests in God. And the only hope for our family, as we consider our future, rests in the same place. It's all about Christ and His plans and His glory. It's about living out His love for others - in our marriages, in our family lives, in our "ministry" to others.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you, not to harm. Plans to give you hope and a future!" Jeremiah 29:11

I invite you to pray with us for that future and hope to come to pass for all of us!

8/16/2011

Phew! Sigh! I'm tired. The last week has been a blur of activity and my brain hasn't had time yet to process it all.

Jason and Amy, our two foster children, left our home last night. They were with us for 8 days [We have yet to foster children for more than 10 days... all of our placements have been short term even when they start out expecting to be long term].

What can I say about this placement? It was hard. Harder than anything I've ever done. The most stressful week of my life, of my family's life. I am not exaggerating. Both Jason and Amy have special needs that require more attention than we/I could give them. They are on their way to a therapeutic foster home - a special type of foster home designed for children with special needs. They will also be reunited with two of their siblings in that new foster home.

What made this so tough? The never-ending demands on me take a toll after some time. I know what it's like to be a full-time mom. I realize that kids have needs that you must care for throughout the day. I'm used to filling cups, changing diapers, refereeing squabbles, helping put on / take off clothes, etc. I don't mind these tasks. Yet I do need time to recharge my own batteries.

Naptime and bedtime are generally those times when I get a little breather and can gain perspective. With Jason and Amy, neither naptime nor bedtime happened in a way that provided me with any break. Neither of the kids would fall asleep without the other one in the room and neither would sleep without me in the room. This isn't a huge issue, as there is an extra bed in their room. Yet, they still fought sleep. About half of the days we tried, they napped. The other half, they ran around - screaming, hitting, kicking, banging on doors and windows. They could not be left along in their bedroom, for fear of them hurting one another or breaking something (like the door, the window, etc). They also screamed even louder when left alone in a room.

Our nights weren't much better. Again, I had to be in the room with them. They took over 2 hours to fall asleep most nights. Then they woke up at least once during the night, running around, being loud, waking the other one up, etc. One night Amy was up from 10 pm until 3 am. Night after night of sleep deprivation doesn't lead to good things... for children or for moms!

Perhaps the sleep issues wouldn't have been so bad, if our days were filled with fewer issues. But our days were filled with many troubles of their own. Jason was aggressive and violent. Amy had no restraint and didn't understand "no," so she was often caught turning the microwave on, trying to turn the knobs on the stove, getting into the fridge for whatever looked good to her, playing with the computer, sneaking outside, etc. My attention span whittled down to 30 seconds - I needed to know where both of them were every 30 seconds of every minute, every hour, every day or there was likely trouble happening somewhere.

Case in point: one day I was walking my son through an "I'm sorry" session with his sister because he hit her. My daughter, my son, Amy and I were all in the living room as my son was apologizing. As he's talking, I hear the back door open and close. Only Jason is unaccounted for. I walk away from my son's apology and head to the backyard. After a quick look around, I don't see Jason and wonder if he didn't actually go outside after all but stayed in the house. I return to the house and do a super quick walk-through and don't find him. I ask my daughter to help me find him outside. She quickly spots him on the road in front of our neighbor's house. I call for him. He takes off running further from our house. I told my daughter to stay in the house with the other children as I ran as fast as I could to catch Jason. He made it 4 more houses down the road. Thankfully there were no cars in sight, so he was not in any real danger. But this was a 2-year-old with no qualms whatsoever about walking out of the house and booking it as far as possible down the road.

So the constant 24/7 supervision took a toll and coupled with the lack of sleep and the fact that I had my own two children to care for - there was no way this placement could last for long.

I will share next time about how this placement affected my biological children and where we go from here.

For now, I'm taking a much-needed breather and planning to catch a nap!

8/10/2011

As of Monday night, we have two new foster children in our home.

I hadn't published anything here, but we have actually turned down 2 foster placements in the last month. One was simply too soon after our miscarriage and we said no in order to allow ourselves more time to grieve. The second time was simply a bad fit for our family, with the ages of the children so we said no.

On Monday the call was for the placement of a 2-year-old girl and 4-year-old girl, only to find out later that the 2-year-old was a boy. Regardless, we said yes.

The 4-year-old girl, whom I will call Amy on this blog (not her real name), has some developmental delays from a car accident she was involved in a few years ago. She wears diapers. She doesn't speak much and is generally slow in understanding and learning.

The 2-year-old boy, whom I will call Jason on this blog (not his real name), is all boy. He will turn 3 this week, so he is close in age to my son. He wants to run, jump, hit, throw, climb and get into general mischief - like most boys his age!

I am always amazed at how much you can learn about a child's parents/upbringing by observing the child's behavior, words and mannerisms. These two children were obviously cussed at regularly. Therefore I have been called more swear words in the last 48 hours than I care to count. These children were left to fend for themselves, so they will try to get their own food from the fridge and fill up cups from the faucet. They hear commands (like "please pick up the toys") but have no reason to act on what they hear (so they don't pick up the toys, but walk away and do something else entirely). They have no manners but are used to being barked at, so that is what they are repeating. "Come here!" "Give me that!"

On the lighter side of things, my 8-year-old daughter is quite unfamiliar with swear words. So upon hearing the kids screaming some of their curses, she said "Are they even speaking English?"

This placement will be short-term, but we don't know how short-term yet. We anticipate one month or less, but we know from past experience that things can change quickly with foster care.

If you're inclined to pray for us, we would appreciate it.
*Pray for Amy and Jason as they adjust to living in our home (new rules, new place, new people, etc)
*Pray for our family as we adjust to having these two with us
*Pray for Amy and Jason's family - especially their parents to get things together and work towards reunifying their family
*Pray for God's strength and wisdom for all involved
*Pray for God to be glorified through us and through these circumstances, because bringing Him glory is our purpose in all of life.

More to come on how things progress with these two as the days go by.