She continues to live

We had the appointment with our pediatrician today. As we walked in, this cloud just fell over me. I realized the last time I was there was literally like 15 hours after labor and with my sweet baby.

At that appointment on June 12th, I remember standing the whole time because I was still so sore and all there was was hard wood chairs.
More importantly, I remember lil Greyson crying as she had to get naked and weighed, she weighed exactly 5 pounds.
Our Doctor loved her and said she was perfectly fine. I remember our doctor was holding her and Greyson was a little upset. The doc looked at me and said, "She won't do this once she is back in your arms."  I took her cute lil self back and sure enough, she calmed down.

But today was different. Today she helped us go through the whole Coroner's Report. It was confirming that we did nothing wrong and that there was nothing wrong with lil Greyson that they were able to find.
Still, normally SIDS doesn't happen until the baby is more like 1 month old, not 2 days.

She asked us if we had any questions, and I told her about a few things that had bothered me and if they had any correlation with baby G's death... they of course did not. She said, even parents blame themselves or wonder what they could've done if their 7yr old isn't doing well in school, etc.

Then our Doc put the papers down...& looked at me...& asked me how I was doing.

 Like really asked.

Not the, "How are ya" drive by...  the look directly at you, into your soul, because I actually want to know...

I got through about  2 words. I'd prefer the drive-by most days. Easier.

Nothing prepares you for having to meet with a doctor and talk about how and why your daughter died. So, I was doing pretty good the whole first 30 minutes, sipping on my homemade smoothy. If I felt "the lump", I'd just take another sip and refocus.

But then she wanted to know if I felt like it was my fault.


While the Lord gives peace without any understanding, there are always little pop-up's in my head, like...

....Remember how you layed on your belly until like 8 months pregnant?
....Remember how you didn't even gain 5 pounds until week 25?
....Remember how you threw up all over the place week 17-25? Especially that one day where you threw up every bite x12, you even threw up Sprite. (Which if you have never thrown up, I strongly hope one day you, too can experience. Weirdest fizzy feeling ever, kinda "fun")
....plus more...

But I know know know know if the Lord wanted us to have her.....we'd have her.
For some special reason He wants her and the more I get hung up on questions mentioned above, the more I am stuck in fear.

Fear to keep going.

Fear to have hope.

Fear that I could've possibly controlled the life and death and of our baby.

 Not possible.

That takes all the credit away from Jesus. He is the Maker of life and He has our days numbered. So, why should I fear? Or question?

It's just painful to hear how perfect your baby was, when she is not still alive to prove it.

I trust Jesus. I trust Him. I do. Even through the mountains of pain.

At the funeral of my sweet friend, Naomi Friday night, the Pastor talked about her life...and about how Naomi's greatest achievement was knowing Jesus. Nothing else mattered.

Wow. Because of that...death has lost it's sting! Thank you Jesus! Thank you.

The thing he also said that resounds in my mind constantly is that Naomi continues to live.

She continues to live. Naomi continues to live with Jesus.

She continues to live. GREYSON continues to live...

She lives with Jesus. My Savior, my Father, my comforter, protector, provider, healer, my faithful FRIEND. What better place for her?

 I deeply deeply deeply want to just hold her for a lil while, kiss her cute lil lips, spank her lil booty, and I live with the hope that someday I will get to.

But I also live with the satisfaction that God has adopted her until I get there. He will kiss her every time I ask Him to. He will hug her and hold her until I am there.

She continues to live. 

Grey Nails

I painted my nails grey today. Just like I did when I was around 18 wks pregnant and we named our sweet baby girl.

Thought of her. As usual.

I love the color grey, which is one of the reasons we loved the name "Greyson".

Wish I could be painting her lil nails right now... getting her ears pierced, dressing her up in all her cute lil outfits she never got to wear.  I especially wish she could have wore all the cute hair bows my Mom and I made right before she was born.

Trying to hold onto the promises the Lord gave us shortly after she went to be with Jesus...that He will give us another baby girl. I literally sometimes cannot breathe... while I wait.

Part of me died with her it seems.

Carried her for 9 months, delivered her, held her, nursed her, listened to the cutest high pitched cry ever,  bathed her, watched her bring so much joy to my husband and my family...

then rode in the ambulance in shock, prayed my heart out at in the E.R....

saw her looking at us while 15 doctors frantically tried to figure out why they were losing her...

then finally held her in my arms as she took her last breath.

 I cried and cried as Jesus showed up and asked me for her. I gave her to Him saying "Ok, Jesus" over and over as my Mom sang Amazing Grace.

Yep, part of me went with her that day. I may never be the same, I just don't know.

I am so glad she is with Jesus, though.

We are heading the viewing and funeral today of our sweet friend Naomi who also went to be with the Lord. She is now walking with Him in Paradise .... She promised to look after our baby "If she is allowed in that area" she said. Haha.

the first one...

I really don't know how this works yet. So far, for some reason, it has been confusing. It probably is because I have had a head cold for about 3 days now, so the brain is hurting.

A few people have suggested I start a blog since:

a. I no longer get on facebook or twitter.

b. I like to write

c. I have tons of stuff going through my head now-a-days in light of baby Greyson's death in June.

I hope to be able to be real, yet not too complain-y or fun-suck-y. Haha. I don't know, we'll see. 

Some days it easy to find blessings, other days it's way easier to find the un-fun stuff to dwell on.

Today, I go back and forth. Since I have been sick, I haven't been getting much sleep, so that makes things a little harder. I was also driving earlier and all the sudden, I just imagined my life the way "it was supposed to be" for the millionth time. Those moments always stink hard-core. If I don't pray right away, I will either sob my eyes out or be filled with enough anger to break something.

It may be hard for most people to understand, unless they have experienced the death of a child or a parent, why we can't just "get over it" or "get back up again real quick" and "move on". 

I truly believe with the Lord on our side, whispering to us each moment of need, giving us hope for our future and encouragement through His Word, helping us heal and work through our anger and disappointment, we'd remain down forever.

Also today, I had to call our pediatrician who saw lil Greyson the day before she died. I was on hold for like 7 minutes, the whole time, I had that lump in my throat and an uprising of bitterness. Too much time to think. 

See, while a lot of my friends, who also had babies this summer, are making these same appointments, they are actually taking their babies with them. I am calling so she can explain to us the Coroner's Report we finally got in the mail this week.  While we are praising the Lord for no Congenital Defects,the rest just makes us sad.

Some people have told me it has taken them 3 months to get out of the "fog", other a whole year. We are approaching the 3 month mark and while I definitely do not cry every hour like the first month or every day like the second, I still feel pretty "blah". I really don't know what it is to be honest. I feel like I have nothing in common with anyone. I have no desire to get to know anyone new. I really have trouble concentrating, especially in large groups. I really don't want to be around people who don't know what has happened or ones who refuse to talk about it. I have nothing to say sometimes. That is the "blah" I feel. But each new day is a gift from the Lord and a chance to spend time with Him being refreshed and renewed and changed and healed. So thankful that Jesus gives us time to heal. 

We know we will not be feeling this way forever. Praise the Lord!

I really am excited at what the Lord has planned. I really truly hope He chooses to use us in other couple's lives in the future who have to go through this. We are so thankful to have Jesus helping us...and that our precious lil 5 pounder is with Him!