October 15th

Today was a very busy day for us, as we are so blessed right now to have my parents visiting us from the other side of the country! In fact, in a few minutes I will be posting more pictures of our visit to the beach this afternoon. However, amidst all the hustle and bustle, I found a small amount of time to reflect on all this day means to me.

As I'm sure most are aware, Adam and I are actually the parents of four children, two of whom are quietly missing from our lives on this earth. Our first two babies, Sam and Clayton, were miscarried and stillborn, respectively. Their story can be found here.

The movement toward making Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day "official" began shortly before our losses occurred. I found myself becoming involved in this cause as a way to channel the love I had for my babies into something constructive. It was a way to validate the feelings I had, to keep me from going crazy when something so deep and real as a mother's love seemed completely out of place in a home with no children living there. My reasons for involvement were almost completely selfish, and once the wound was no longer gaping, I was happy to move on to more tangible things, namely caring for baby Drake. But whatever the reason, and for whatever timeframe, the portion of my life devoted to Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day will never be forgotten.

I've never been in contact with a governor before or since, but for two years in a row after Clayton's death, I had personal e-mail correspondence with the governor of the enormously populated state of North Dakota! And we have in our home two official proclamations from the State of North Dakota, signed by the governor, stating facts on pregnancy and infant loss, and that October 15th of those two years was to be officially set aside as a day of remembrance. It was a bitter, yet sweet time in my life.

I remember the sweetness of God's hand upon me, and though I was only beginning to recognize Him and to know Him, He was (and of course, still is) ultimately patient with me, leading me gently to a greater understanding of His glory and goodness.

I am very much out of the loop now with Remembrance Day, and aside from quietly remembering my little ones, I don't really do anything special on October 15th. However, I know that several years ago, a resolution was finally passed by the U.S. House of Representatives making Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day both national and permanent, removing the need for annual state proclamations, like the ones I was able to secure for North Dakota in 2002 and 2003. It is a cause that is - however quietly - very dear to my heart, because it marks the most difficult leg of my journey into motherhood.

Today, I thank the Lord for all four of the children I have carried, some longer than others. We are so blessed to be raising two of them. While we were at the beach this afternoon, I helped Drake and Levi each make footprints in the sand. The tide was high, and washed their footprints away not long after I took this picture. I was thinking today that the picture will help me remember details like the color of the sand, the brightness of the sun, and the small size of their feet. And having a day like October 15th will always help me to stop and remember the details of a couple of years of my life that I might otherwise want to forget, but for the hand of God upon them.

Quick pix

I decided not to keep you in suspense any longer and to go ahead and post a few of the pictures I've already taken off the camera. I think we'll be pretty busy this weekend and so I may not get around to it otherwise. (But I need to remember to take a picture of Levi in the ducky diaper, of course, so I can put it on here when I get the chance!)

I just like this picture! Heidi sticks this close to Levi quite frequently. Who knows why...

Drake, me, and Levi before releasing Clayton's 7th birthday balloon.

Drake is enjoying the frosting off Adam's cupcake, as well as his own.

He's his mama's boy...I hate to say it, but it's true. Gotta love that frosting!

Levi enjoyed Clayton's birthday cupcakes a little, but I think he liked playing in the frosting more than eating it.

Now isn't that sweet?! I need to put this one up on my fridge to look at for when I have days like the past few have been!

Our story of Clayton

This is what it means to be held,
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive.
This is what it is to be loved,
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell we’d be held.

- the chorus from Held by Natalie Grant
(to hear this song, scroll down to the bottom of this page and click it...it’s the last one on the playlist)

Today is the seventh birthday of our firstborn son, Clayton Wyatt. Clayton was stillborn prematurely on July 29, 2001. For those of you unfamiliar with the story of Clayton’s short life on this earth, I’ll give a brief recap. The year before, in 2000, we had a miscarriage at only 5-1/2 weeks. I’d only known I was pregnant for a couple of days before we found out I was miscarrying, but it was still a rough time. We decided to name that baby Sam, for Samuel or Samantha, so we could refer to him/her by name, as a real person. Then about six months later, we found out we were expecting Clayton!

Clayton’s pregnancy was riddled with problems from the beginning, and we were told on several occasions that the baby would not survive. But then, the next ultrasound or blood test would always indicate that all was well. (There were a lot of ultrasounds and blood tests.) At 21 weeks, a routine ultrasound revealed a much smaller baby than expected for his gestational age, with almost no amniotic fluid. I was scheduled to be flown across the country to see a military perinatologist (high-risk pregnancy doctor), but the day we were to leave, the MedEvac plane broke down and could not leave the base. That evening, I had a very strong feeling that something was really not right, and so I called my doctor and he reluctantly agreed to meet us at the hospital. Once at Labor and Delivery, an ultrasound confirmed that our little one’s heart had stopped beating. My labor was induced that evening, and at 2:10 in the morning on Sunday, July 29th, little Clayton was born still, weighing only 3 ounces and measuring 17 centimeters (about 7 inches long). Then began our winding road out of grief.

Through the experience of losing my only child - and living with the lonely dichotomy of being a mother, but having no child - God was working. One week after Clayton’s stillbirth, we attended church at the base chapel. Now, Adam and I had not been going to church all that often at that point. (Church attendance isn’t the issue, of course, but for us, it was an indication of our priorities at that time.) So we were at the base chapel that day only because our hearts were broken. And that very day, I met another woman named Melanie who had also experienced a stillbirth. Because she knew exactly what I was going through, she was able to reach inside me somehow and help the very slow healing process to begin. Melanie invited me to come to a ladies’ Bible study that she was about to start at the chapel, Beth Moore’s Jesus, the One and Only. It had been years since I’d done any kind of studying the Bible, but I was suddenly hungry for the Word of God and also just lonely beyond anything I’d ever felt before. So I went. And it was absolutely out of my comfort zone, by the way. But I loved it. And they put up with me too. I remember how my poor little small group had to hear the story of my loss so many times, and how I connected it to everything, and how I saw the world through that experience. Seeing the world through the tragedy is how people going through grief begin, I think. And that can last a long time.

But the Lord was drawing us out...out of a long spiritual sleep, and out of the crushing pain of losing a baby. Shortly after Clayton’s death, Adam met a civilian at work who introduced us to his family and his church. The more time we spent with these people, the more we loved them, and the more we learned about the love of Jesus. Sunday became my favorite day of the week, just for the joy of hearing teachings about God and getting to hang out with the loving people of our new church fellowship. I kept going to the Bible studies at the base chapel and learning more.

The Lord took something terrible and used it for good - for teaching and correcting us, so we could truly know Him and feel His goodness and love and forgiveness. When I think of Clayton, I feel a deep sadness at never getting to know him. But no longer do I wish to change something that fell within the will of God. We have not been promised an easy road. But for those who are in Christ, He will never leave us nor forsake us...and He does truly want to bless us and grow us through the pain. God is always good, even when circumstances are not. Now, years after our loss, I can see clearly how this is the case, even in the death of our son. I hope and pray that someday my first response will consistently be thankfulness and the recognition of God's goodness - in everything, not just when things go the way I want them to. May He be glorified in all things.

Romans 8:28: "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose."

Our sweet Clayton, we love you always. You are remembered and dearly missed.