To walk on stormy seas

Usually, Nicole writes everything in here, but today I've decided to. I'm not going to recount all the things that have happened, or what we went through, because I couldn't do near the job that Nicole has.

What I can do is be thankful. Through all of this, we have been blessed. We've been blessed by the love of our family and friends. We've been blessed by a doctor that loves God, and nurses that took care of us above and beyond what they're called to do. We've been blessed by online and local groups that Nicole has found and has spoken with, both in being able to help minister and in order to find comfort. And, we've been blessed with total strangers and people in the community who've brought blessings and joy to us when they had no reason to. I'm sure there are others I'm forgetting, but the first and foremost thing that got us through this was God with his infinite comfort and mercy.

A lot of people would say, how are you not angry with God? How are you not upset? The truth is, when the realization of what happened hit me, I was. I was beyond angry. I threatened to turn my back forever, to forsake Him like I felt He'd forsaken us. If He was going to take her from us I didn't want Him in my life. This attitude lasted all of about 5 minutes, and this was before we even knew that the worst had happened. I still remember that horrible, bitter moment like it was yesterday. But at the moment I saw Caroline asleep, all that anger left. It was filled by an overwhelming heartbreak. And from that second God moved in us. He worked in us. He brought as much comfort as people like us could possibly hope for. He's brought us through so much. We still struggle every single day, missing our precious little Caroline, but God has filled our home, hearts, and lives with His love. We still fall and falter, lose hope and struggle with all of this, but when we fall, He raises us up. He gives us comfort and peace where there was none. He keeps us strong, and calls us to do His work. Sometimes I feel like maybe I got connected a little too much to this old world, that I feared leaving it behind one day, but now, while I can't bear the thought of not being with Nicole and our family, I know we'll all be together, and we'll be together with our precious angel, and we will share eternity in the presence of God the Father, Jesus the Son, and the Holy Spirit. And I tell you, I can't wait. We're going to make the best of our days here, we're going to tell everyone that we can as God leads us, about His love, His forgiveness, His offer of salvation if we'll only lay down this earthly life and take His eternal one.

I don't claim to understand why things like this happen, or why they're allowed to happen, or made to happen, and I never will understand that, I'm accepting of that fact. This has undoubtedly been the hardest year of my life, but I've felt God in our lives the whole way. Leading us, guiding us, placing us where we're needed, even in the most horrible of times. I thank God for holding us in his arms through all of this. I can't say I like the song, but "You Raised Me Up" has a lyric that couldn't be truer, "I am strong, when I am on Your shoulders", without God to lean on, I would be a broken shell. I would be hopeless and devastated. I hope that I can serve God through this, that Nicole and I can. And that it will bring us closer together, bring us closer to Him, and bring us closer to the ones around us. I want Caroline's life to be used for God's greater glory, in remembrance of her. She was a precious angel to us in this life, and in the next, and I'm so beyond thankful of the time that we did get to spend with her. She was and is such a blessing even though she's not physically here with us.

The other day, before Christmas, I was missing her like crazy for many, many reasons, and just needed in some way to speak about her, or think about her. A co-worker was singing Silent Night, and I took the chance to write about Caroline using the inspiration of that song.

Silent night
Holy night
Rest with God
Precious Caroline

Little angel
By everyone missed
Held by Jesus
In this we are blessed

Sleep in Heavenly peace

We missed her beyond words this Christmas, nothing could feel right, because it felt like we should have her there with us. But I'm so thankful for our families who made things feel as best as they could even when I know they're hurting as well. We went to see her little monument at the family cemetary below Mom and Dad's house this weekend, and as with most things these days it was a bitter-sweet moment. It turned out a little better than we'd designed, and it had been taken care of and decorated by family. It was as perfect as something like that can be.
I miss her every moment of my life, just like her mama, and her family does. But thank God, I have a hope and a faith in Him like I never have had before. Thank you Lord for taking her into your arms. Thank you Lord for the promise of an eternity with You and with her, and with our other loved ones who trusted and followed you and the gift of Your Son. We've been broken, but you are the Great Healer.

You might think I sound like a nut saying these things, but when you feel and know something is so real, you can't help but try to let others know about it. His love and salvation doesn't take pain or discomforts out of life. It doesn't make you a rich and lucky person. But it gives you a peace when there is none. It gives you a comfort when there was none. It gives you hope when none could be found. My heart is broken, but it is filled with His love, and His comfort, and His hope, and His promise. The path to Him is narrow, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes to walk it.
Thanks for taking the time to read this. I don't know how much or when I'll update, but I will when I feel led, or when I'm missing little Caroline and just need to write or talk about it. To any of you that are reading this and have been through something similar, please know that our hearts and prayers are sincerely with you, and if we can be of any help whatsoever, please don't hesitate to let us know.

- Arthur

Christmas in Heaven

Well, I’m thinking it’s probably time for my weekly update. I have been meaning to write about this week’s events for a few days now, but just haven’t gotten around to it. Maybe I’m lazy, maybe I’m a procrastinator, and maybe I was scared. I very much want to document this whole journey, all the good days, all the bumps in the road. But I have to say that sometimes it’s hard just to reflect. Reflection allows me to stop DOING and actually FEEL. That’s hard to do. Sometimes, it’s downright painful. Sometimes it’s rewarding. All the time, it’s necessary, at least for me.

On Tuesday, the hospital where Caroline was born had a memorial service for all the infants that passed away over the course of this year. There were 35. Most of them were miscarriages early on, but at least a few were lost after 20 weeks. It was so nice. They called all the babies' names, we lit candles for them, and got to keep them. After the service, there was a reception. All the families were able to chat and share their stories. I was also able to speak to one of the nurses who was just precious to me. She continues to be precious. I’m so thankful for people like her in the medical field…compassionate and loving.

The weather here has been interesting. There has been snow and ice. And I have to say that as Southerners, we’re not accustomed to such things. The news was telling us to stay off the roads, power was out all over the place…and a couple of “snow days.” So I really can’t complain.

We’re pretty well done with our Christmas shopping now. That leaves all the wrapping to be done though. I already did a good wrapping shift today, but will probably have to hit it again to get everything done. Christmas is less than a week away, after all.

It’s tough to think about Christmas without Caroline. It’s hard to think of a new year without her. It’s impossible to think of a lifetime that I don’t get to share with her. I don’t even know how to explain the empty/lonely feeling. Part of me is gone. Part of me went with her. There’s definitely a lot left to live for, I have to carry Caroline’s story. I have people to share my experiences with. I have lessons to learn, and life to live. But this life is not what I expected.

There is a poem though that I thought I should share. It was kind of special to me.

Christmas in Heaven

I see the countless Christmas trees around the world below
with tiny lights like Heaven’s stars reflecting on the snow.

The sight is so spectacular; please wipe away that tear
for I am spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year.

I hear the many Christmas songs that people hold so dear
but the sound of music can't compare with the Christmas choir up here.

I have no words to tell you of the joy their voices bring
for it is beyond description to hear the angels sing.

I know how much you miss me; I see the pain inside your heart
for I am spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year.

I can't tell you of the splendor or the peace here in this place
Can you just imagine Christmas with our Savior face to face?

I'll ask Him to lift your spirit as I tell Him of your love
so then pray for one another as you lift your eyes above.

Please let your hearts be joyful and let your spirit sing
for I am spending Christmas in Heaven and I’m walking with the King.

-Wanda White (1999)

So, with that, I’ll leave you with my sincere Christmas wishes. I hope and pray that each of you has a wonderful Christmas. I pray that those of you who have lost someone special feel His comfort and peace.

Merry Christmas and God Bless,

It Can Never Happen To Me...

Hello from a snowy December day. Things are plugging along. We're hurtling toward Christmas at an alarming rate. Am I done with my Christmas shopping? That's a big ol' NO! Am I going to stress over it? An even bigger NO! :) I have been embroidering some stuff to give as gifts, which is enjoyable and therapeutic. (Or as Barney Fife would say, "therapetic")

I was reading the Our Daily Bread devotional book. I found this devotional. It is written by Dennis Fisher. It kind of struck a chord with me. Before going through all of this with losing Caroline, I knew that people lost babies all the time. I mean, even my own grandmother lost her first child before he was a year old. We talked about Jimmy a lot, he has always been very much part of the family. I just knew that I would never be strong enough to go through something like that. And since I wouldn't have the required strength, I assumed it just wouldn't happen to me. It's not that I thought I was "too good" or that I was above something awful like this, I guess I just thought I couldn't possibly have to live through this. Also, I think most of us have gone through things that make us think, "This is the kind of thing that only happens to other people or other families." But, it does happen. Things happen to people all the time. And, I am trying my best to give my God, who has been so good to me, my gratitude and trust. After all, he will turn my sorrow to dancing.

Psalm 30:6-12 (HCSB)

⁶ When I was secure, I said,
"I will never be shaken."

⁷ LORD, when You showed Your favor,
You made me stand like a strong mountain;
when You hid Your face, I was terrified.

⁸ LORD, I called to You;
I sought favor from my Lord:

⁹ "What gain is there in my death,
in my descending to the Pit?
Will the dust praise You?
Will it proclaim Your truth?

¹⁰ LORD, listen and be gracious to me;
LORD, be my helper."

¹¹ You turned my lament into dancing;
You removed my sackcloth
and clothed me with gladness,

¹² so that I can sing to You and not be silent.
LORD my God, I will praise You forever.

Actor Christopher Reeve was paralyzed in a horseback riding accident in 1995. Prior to this tragedy, he had played the part of a paraplegic in a movie. In preparation, Reeve visited a rehabilitation facility. He recalled: “Every time I left that rehab center, I said, ‘Thank God that’s not me.’ ” After his accident, Reeve regretted that statement: “I was so setting myself apart from those people who were suffering without realizing that in a second that could be me.” And sadly, for him, it was.

We too may look at the troubles of others and think that it could never happen to us. Especially if our life journey has led to a measure of success, financial security, and family harmony. In a moment of vanity and self-sufficiency, King David admitted to falling into the trap of feeling invulnerable: “Now in my prosperity I said, ‘I shall never be moved’” (Ps. 30:6). But David quickly caught himself and redirected his heart away from self-sufficiency. He remembered that he had known adversity in the past and God had delivered him: “You have turned for me my mourning into dancing” (v.11).

Whether He has brought us blessing or trial, God still deserves our gratitude and trust.

I can always count on God, my heavenly Father,
For He changes not; He always is the same;
Yesterday, today, forever, He is faithful,
And I know He loves me, praise His holy name. —Felten

In good times and bad, our greatest need is God.

Always her mommy,

Something Beautiful

You might wonder how I could possibly be astounded by the beauty in my life in the midst of such a tremendous loss. I would wonder the same thing if the shoe was on the other foot. I can see where someone would wonder how I can even keep living. I’ll be honest, there have been times throughout this whole experience that I’ve thought that there was no way that I could keep going. I believed that it was too hard, too sad, too tragic, too much. There has been a chip on my shoulder a couple of times, there have been plenty of ‘why-me’s, a seas worth of tears shed, and a lifetime of prayers used up all at once. But there is still tremendous beauty in my life. Would it be more beautiful if Caroline was still here? I like to think so, but I’m not sure I would have been as receptive.

This experience is the hardest thing I have been through to this point in my life. I’ve probably had a pretty easy ride, honestly though. God has so richly blessed me and guided me and taken care of me through these years. I’ve taken it for granted, as most of us seem to. I can say though, that through this God has knocked me down a few notches, opened my eyes, gotten my attention.

I had gotten a little disillusioned with the world. I was disappointed in many of my fellow human beings. I had started to believe that there weren’t many good people left. It seemed that everyone was so selfish and only interested in self preservation. I have seen people claw each other to pieces just to get a little bit ahead. I’ve seen a lot of ugliness. I started believing that was about all that was left: ugliness.

That’s when the bottom dropped out. And I couldn’t mean that any more. My world literally fell apart; we’re talking complete obliteration. My entire life plan crumbled, and if you know me at all, you know that I’m a planner. If I don’t have my plan, or things don’t go according to that plan, it really sends me reeling. Especially something of this magnitude. But, there I was, with all my power stripped. There was nothing in the world I could do, POWERLESS. (I don’t think this is the first time my Heavenly Father has attempted to teach me this lesson…I might also be stubborn) So, one thing I’ve pulled from this experience is surrender. I have to surrender my plans, my version of how I want things. This is ultimately His show, and He calls the shots. I’m sure He thinks it’s entertaining when I tell Him how things should be. I can only imagine what we all sound like to Him!

Another lesson is that yes, bad things do happen to good people. This world is not our home. This isn’t supposed to be easy. This isn’t supposed to be comfortable. We’re not here for eternity. It’s extremely easy to get bogged down in feeling hopeless sometimes in this life. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t been hopeless feeling at times. But then, I find my hope in Him. Sometimes He gives it right to me; sometimes I have to search it out. Also, along those lines, Satan tries his best to make us feel like God has betrayed us by allowing us to suffer. This is simply not the case.

Possibly the most surprising thing I’ve seen through this is all the love and support. God has surrounded me with people who have made this impossible task a little more possible. From my doctor and nurses, to family, to friends, to co workers, to people I’ve met through other blogs and websites. I have truly been given so much support. And to each and every one of you who is reading this blog, let me just say THANK YOU. Thank you so much. Thank you for allowing God to use you to minister to me.

All of that being said, I still miss my sweet Caroline every second of every day. My life has been dramatically changed by her almost 40 weeks with me. She is forever my sweet girl, forever my first child, forever a piece of me. God blessed me with that sweet gift. My Caroline brought beauty to my life. And I pray that God will allow me to use her to bring beauty to others.

I have had a couple of really hard days. I returned to work yesterday. Though it was so difficult to walk back into this office, and sit at this desk where just weeks ago I sat with my giant belly and my little girl, I have survived yet another phase of this healing process and journey. It is truly only through the support I’ve gotten from those around me. Everyone at work was amazing to me. Many people cried right along with me, allowed me to share my story, were genuinely interested in me and my experience. There have also been many people share their stories of loss. I have been taken aback by those stories; I am humbled that people are willing to share their experiences with me.

So today, I am truly amazed by the beauty that is still in my life. I look around and see all that God has done for me, and I’m finding peace and blessings. He is using so many of you to minister to me in so many ways, and I am so thankful for that. Thank you all for helping me see the beauty that is still in my life each day.

Dear Heavenly Father,

Thank you for loving me. Thank you for caring that I am hurting. Thank you for sending all of these people to me to help me so much, by sharing their stories, talking with me, crying with me, and offering prayers. I pray that you’ll use me to minister to others the way these have ministered to me. Thank you for all that you do for me that I’ve taken for granted. Thank you for giving me a lighter day not crushed under the grief of missing my sweet girl. Thank you for allowing me to see the beauty.

Amen.

Jumping Hurdles

So, it’s time again for a little update. I survived Thanksgiving…with a lot of help from my family and grace from God. There were many tears, but it was nice to spend time with family. I have a great big hole in my life, yet I do still have very much to be thankful for. Despite the pain I’m going through, I have been, and continue to be very blessed.

Things have been pretty eventful since my last post. We picked out her headstone, visited her grave for the first time since the funeral, and had the 6 week checkup. So, I’ll begin with the headstone. I have to admit, it was something that I was dreading, and dreading badly. I’ve never picked out a headstone before, or even been with someone else who was picking one out. I’ve experienced deaths of family members, but have always missed out on that part of the process. I felt absolutely sick when we pulled into the parking lot. I think I might have lightly cried the entire way there…and it was a 45 minute drive. I managed to hold myself together while we were in the monument place. Thankfully, my mother and father-in-law joined us there and offered their opinions and support. Overall, I think we picked out a nice stone…if there really is such a thing. (If you want my honest opinion, there wasn’t one that would have been “good enough” for her. I wanted her to have so much, I had such big plans for her life, that it felt like it wasn’t enough just to pick out a headstone.)

From the monument place, we went to the cemetery. I’m pretty certain I cried the whole way there, and then I bawled when we got there. Just seeing that teeny tiny grave, the fresh ground, the beautiful flowers (thanks to our family), it was all so real. So final. So painful. So sad. So unfair. So scary. It’s not that I didn’t want to visit her grave and honor her, it just was something that was very hard to do for me. I know that she isn’t really there, only her body is, but I know that I still want to “mother” her. I want to put flowers (and a wind chime, because it sounds pretty and I wanted her to have the music of them), and make sure her headstone is just so…I mean, I still have her nursery all set up. I don’t have the heart to take it down. And to be completely honest, I don’t see any reason to try to take it all down. If for no other reason, than I like it that way. But I digress, we visited the grave, we cried together, we held each other, and I think we both did a little more healing. We’re just trying to take on the hurdles that are in front of us. Looking back, I can see that we’ve crossed many, and still have SO MANY more to go.

I have also had my 6 week checkup. Everything went well. It was definitely tough to go back to that office (directly across the street, I might add, from the hospital) and be met head on with all of those memories. But it was good to be able to sit down with the doctor, whom I love dearly, and ask my list of questions, and talk about everything. I asked what felt like a million different things…”Was there something I could have done?” “Was there something I missed that I should have been watching out for?” “Was there something I did wrong?” “What is the likelihood of this happening again?” Dr. V was very comforting and told me that there was nothing that I could have done. He told me that I did everything I could do for her, and that this was just a tragic accident. That is both comforting and unsettling. I’m definitely glad that I didn’t fail her in some way, but at the same time, I would love to be able to have the assurance that I will be able to avoid a situation like this in the future. We did find out though, that her cord was on the “short side of normal.” This combined with all the loops around her neck, body, and leg was the problem. So, with answers to my questions and a clean bill of health, that hurdle was behind us too.

We also got our pictures from the delivery…I am SO THANKFUL that we were offered that service. The pictures were hard to look at, simply because of all the emotions attached, but I am SO GLAD we have them. I have to admit, I definitely got a sense of peace when I looked at them. It was like part of her had come home. It was nice.

So, life is hurdling forward at an alarming rate. Most people have been completely unaffected by the loss of Caroline. I didn’t expect the world to stop. But mine did. Caroline changed my life. She taught me more in her 39 weeks and 2 days than I’ve learned over the course of many of these 28 years. My world stopped spinning when I was told that her heart stopped beating. I won’t lie; I wanted mine to stop too. I didn’t want to live in a world that didn’t have Caroline in it. I wanted to lie down and cover up my head and just let everything pass me by. There are a few reasons I didn’t do that…and those reasons are for another day, but while I didn’t stop living, I have lived a different normal. For one thing, I haven’t been back to work yet. And that’s staring me right in the face now. I’m going to have to go back to the “real world.” I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know what to do. When I go back to work, and sit at that desk, where I last sat, being kicked like crazy by my sweet girl, how do I go back to “normal”?

One. Step. At. A. Time.

That’s all I can do.

My sweet girl:

Thoughts and prayers,