Blooming Joy!

Busy as a bee

stephaniepittock — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 21:31:39 +0000

I’m guessing most folks who grieve find that being busy helps somewhat with the process. Or at least masks the pain for a while. I haven’t written in a while because I’ve just been crazy busy. Christmas happened, and then once that was over I had to hit the ground running. Schools in our town started back on January 2nd, and the 4th I had a training for Sunday school (we’ve started a brand-new curriculum). Then I left early in the morning on the 5th for a youth ministry symposium in California, returning late the night of the 7th. I spent all of last week running around like crazy prepping for our new Sunday school launch that was last weekend. And here we have come to today.

One of the things I took a bit of time to accomplish today was to register a domain name for my blog. Sadly, bloomingjoy.com is already owned by a florist. So I went with blooming-joy.com. I hope it’s not too confusing for everyone. I wish I would have jumped on this task a year ago. I know there wasn’t anyone using my preferred name at that time. Oh well, that’s life.

I have so much to fill everyone in on – Christmas, my trip, the things I am learning. Let me just leave you with this piece…

While in California I had the opportunity to talk with someone about their adoption story. It’s not my story to tell, so I’m not going to share it here, but what I learned from it is this – no matter how God makes us parents (through childbirth or adoption), He is in control of the details. I’ve always had this assumption that heading down the adoption road would mean taking matters into my own hands and trying to control everything, while still ending up disappointed in the end. I think my views of it are similar to how I felt about going to the fertility clinic years ago. But the truth is, God can work through extraodinary circumstances to create families.

I’m not saying that I’m ready to adopt a child or even that we ever will. But I learned a valuable lesson in that brief conversation, one that I will carry with me for a long time. Parenthood isn’t something that we seek or attain by ourselves. It is something given by God. And I AM a parent, even if my children are no longer in this world. I just am not sure how to be one in my own unique circumstances, but I am slowly learning day by day.

2011 in review

stephaniepittock — Mon, 02 Jan 2012 15:10:06 +0000

I received this from WordPress at the end of the year, and just thought I’d share it with all of you. I’m surprised by the visitors from other countries and a tad curious, but anyway, I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and New Years. I’ll write more later to catch up on what’s been happening for us.

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Syndey Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 40,000 times in 2011. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 15 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

Home for Christmas

stephaniepittock — Tue, 13 Dec 2011 20:36:06 +0000

Travis’ grandma died this past weekend. He’s at the funeral right now, actually. Since it is in Tennessee and this time of year is crazy busy, he had to fly, and we couldn’t afford for both of us to go. I know it’s hard on him and his family. I am sad, but I don’t have a lifetime of memories with her. And I take comfort in knowing that she is with Jonah and Samantha. She always loved her great-grandchildren, and I can just picture her dancing around with them in her arms.

Since we learned the news, I’ve had a song running through my head. It’s an older one, from Steven Curtis Chapman. I think I’ve had the album since high school! But it’s so appropriate for this I had to share it with you. I just pray it doesn’t make my husband cry.

“Going Home for Christmas”

Her house was where the family gathered every Christmas eve;
A feast was set on the table and gifts were placed beneath the tree.
Everything was picture perfect, Grandpa would laugh and say,
That woman spends the whole year getting ready for this day.

One year the leaves began to fall and her health began to fade;
We moved her to a place where they could watch her night and day.
But she kept making plans for Christmas from her little room;
She told everyone, I’ll miss you but I’ll be leaving soon.

I’m going home for Christmas and I’m going home to stay;
I’m going home for Christmas and nothing’s gonna keep me away.
I’ll be with the ones I love to celebrate the Savior’s birth;
This gift will be worth more to me than anything on earth.
I’m going home, home for Christmas.

All the leaves outside have fallen to be covered by the snow;
The family comes with food and gifts and Grandpa comes alone.
There’s a sadness in our silence as the Christmas story’s read,
And with tears, Grandpa reminds us of the words that Grandma said.

I’m going home for Christmas and I’m going home to stay;
I’m going home for Christmas and nothing’s gonna keep me away.
She’ll be face to face with Jesus as we celebrate His birth,
And this gift will be worth more to her than anything on earth,
‘Cause she’ll be home.

And as we sing ‘Joy to the World’ I can’t help thinking
Of the joy that’s shining in her eyes right now.
And though our hearts still ache, we know that as we celebrate,
She’s singing with the herald angels and heaven’s glowing on her face.

And now she’s home for Christmas and now she’s home to stay;
She’s home for Christmas, and nothin’ could’ve kept her away.
She’ll be face to face with Jesus, as we celebrate His birth,
And this gift will be worth more to her than anything on earth.
She’s home, she’s home for Christmas.
She is home, she’s home for Christmas.

Gratitude

stephaniepittock — Mon, 28 Nov 2011 17:21:45 +0000

Strangely I keep coming up against this word this year. I am filled with gratitude. A recent comment on a listserv brought it to my attention that the words for “grace” and “thanks” in several non-English languages are very close. So perhaps using the words “gratitude” or “grateful” fit better in English. Anyway, I have been filled with thankfulness this year. Thankfulness that I had my daughter. Gratitude that I got to hold her for four months. Joy that I never spent a single day of her life apart from her. Despite all of the profound sorrow we continue to feel (and will for years to come) I can’t help but give thanks. Since we celebrated thanksgiving last week, I wanted to make sure I shared this thought. And today’s devotion brought it to my attention again. I’d like to quote a segment, from the book Simply Sacred by Gary Thomas:”Sometimes, in God’s providence, certain pleasures may be closed to us…God says, in effect, ‘This is not for you, at least not now.’ We have to trust him to provide alternate pleasures–perhaps of an entirely different sort–that will sustain us in our trials. Feelings of entitlement feed anger; feelings of thankfulness swell our souls and can make us tear up with overflowing gratitude.” It’s so true. I’m thankful that Gary put into words what my heart has been telling me this year.

Yes, I’m double posting today, but I had to share it. Thanks for putting up with me!

I’m still here

stephaniepittock — Mon, 28 Nov 2011 16:33:42 +0000

I promise that I didn’t just drop off the earth after my last post. Actually, it was that we had another round of illness/hospitalization in our family (yes, AGAIN). This time it was Travis’ turn, and he didn’t come close to the family record when he spent five days in the local hospital (which I can say from experience has the best tasting/valued cafeteria food of any hospital in the area). He is still going through some outpatient tests, but the doctors are fairly certain he has celiac disease and possibly also Crohn’s. So we are facing a lot of dietary changes for him and possibly some new medications. Ugh. The good news is that it forces us to do what we’ve been saying we would for a while – cut back on eating out and cook more from scratch. The bad news is that any short-cuts we might have used are effectively removed because a lot of processed foods have ingredients that he can’t eat.

His hospitalization coincided with our 10th anniversary, so it’s a good thing I wasn’t exactly counting on it being a big deal. But in many ways, it was fitting for us because that has been our year, our marriage. He’s still not feeling really great, but the damage these diseases inflict on the intestines can take a long time to heal, even after adjusting the diet. Then to top it off, I got a stomach bug Friday evening and was sick for 24 hours. I haven’t been sick like that in years, not since I was a kid. Yuck. Now we’re both on the mend and trying to play catch-up on a lot of areas that got set aside. The Christmas decorations need to be done, and I need to start doing some major meal planning and actually plan ahead for grocery shopping, things I haven’t been really good at doing for most of our married life. I hate that it took an illness to do it, but I guess I’ve started to notice that often times it takes a 2×4 to the head to get our attention.

Tomorrow we say goodbye to my mom’s parents, who have been with our family this week to celebrate Thanksgiving. And we will be saying a big goodbye to Travis’ grandmother fairly soon, who has been doing poorly for a while but is now with hospice care (love the work they do!) and has only days to live. It’s a hard loss to face but not nearly as hard as our children. And I like knowing that she will be with them soon.

Thank you all for your continued prayers. I will write more soon now that I’m getting back into a routine!

Time

stephaniepittock — Thu, 10 Nov 2011 19:47:35 +0000

It’s official today – Samantha has been gone for as long as we had her with us. Four months ago we said goodbye. Four months before that we met her for the first time. Both sections of time feel like an eternity. I can’t believe how many times this year I’ve said, “that was a lifetime ago,” only to catch myself and realize that it was a lifetime ago – Samantha’s lifetime.

Yesterday I found myself cleaning out some old emails and happened upon a prayer request from a friend for someone they know. The prayer was for a couple expecting a little girl who unfortunately had a fatal developmental problem in utero. She was born alive but died two hours later. I read through some of that couple’s blog and found myself tearing up at the similar emotions. I guess it doesn’t matter if you hold your baby for two hours or four months, just seeing her eyes, hearing her voice, holding her – it’s a gift I will always be grateful for.

I know that there’s a part of me that thinks we should squeeze in a trip to the cemetery today, but I’m also content to perhaps just go home and pull out some of her things. I feel more connected to Samantha at home than I do at the graveside. I think a lot of that has to do with Jonah. We connected more to him through his grave than anything else, since the memories we had of him were so limited. Samantha was living and breathing and spent time in our home, more of her life there than any other place. I’m thankful that we don’t have any plans to move from our home any time soon, because I can’t imagine leaving the house where we held her. Someday it may be inevitable, but I pray that day is far removed into the distance and we can just continue to enjoy this house that is truly our HOME, more so than any other has been. Yet even with that, I carry this longing that reminds me that nowhere on this earth can ever be my home.

Time keeps passing. In another four months we will “celebrate” her birthday. I want to do something special to recognize that day, though how to do it still escapes me. Meanwhile I keep moving forward daily.

The community of saints

stephaniepittock — Mon, 07 Nov 2011 15:21:13 +0000

Yes, I know the creed says “the communion of saints,” but this is the phrase that I’ve been pondering the last couple of weeks. It came out of teaching the third article in confirmation, where the kids were hyper-focused on the word “communion” and thought it meant taking communion (the Lord’s Supper). So we shifted the word for them to “community” to help them understand it a bit better.

We found ourselves teaching about this on the day our church celebrated All Saints. Funny how that works. I could say it’s ironic, but the truth is I know God lined it up for us. Yesterday was hard. Hearing Samantha’s name being read in church was so hard, and then hearing my husband preach about the joys of heaven and the saints who have gone before us added to it. I don’t know how he got through it, I couldn’t have done it. I barely managed to sing with the choir. We’ve both realized that our grief is hitting us all over again in the last week or two. I think for a while we were just plowing along and trying not to think about it. But grief demands to be noticed eventually. Sometimes it clobbers me like a rock being dropped on my head. Other times it’s like falling into quicksand. Still other times it’s like wading in the ocean – lapping around my waist but manageable until a big wave comes and I surface drenched, spitting saltwater and wiping my eyes.

One of the things I’ve come to realize through this whole process is that our society’s picture of death is very messed up. We look at death as an enemy, as an evil. Part of that is because we read again and again in scripture about the enemies being sin, death, and the devil. But I’ve realized something this year, that death is not a scary, evil thing. It is the door to eternal life. Now, eternal death is something else – that’s the scary, evil thing – the hell that awaits all who do not believe. But death is merely a door between this life and the next, and there is a beauty and a gift to it that I’ve only just begun to see.

I think God has placed a healthy fear of death on our hearts, so that we don’t all just take matters into our own hands. Sadly, some still do, but I’ve realized more and more that it’s not an act against others but the course of a disease (depression) becoming fatal, no more or less so than cancer or heart disease. The difference is that those of us who remain behind cannot begin to understand it. I heard that a family in our town was affected by this illness and tragedy on Friday, and my heart goes out to them and their grief. And while I know I myself am depressed and I long to see my children again, I cannot allow this illness to take my life, if only for the sake of my family who remains. We have lost so much already.

As I ramble through all of these thoughts, I want to leave you with two pieces that struck me. The first is a quote from the front of a bulletin somewhere, shared in this blog post: :”All Saints celebrates the baptized people of God, living and dead, who are the body of Christ. As November heralds the dying of the landscape in many northern regions, the readings and liturgy call us to remember all who have died in Christ and whose baptism is complete. At the Lord’s table we gather with the faithful of every time and place, trusting that the promises of God will be fulfilled and that all tears will be wiped away in the new Jerusalem.” I just think this is a beautiful way of putting it for All Saints day.

The second is merely a link. His words about how he feels about his impending death are so reflective of the thoughts and feelings I had in accepting that Samantha was going to die. It’s been since her death that I have struggled more. But that is the nature of grief.

I find myself saying several times a day how much I miss her. Sometimes it’s aloud, but more often it’s just to myself. And I’ve learned to give myself permission to do it. That’s been the hardest thing.

PS. Thanks Bethany for the prayer on Sunday. I love being part of a church tradition that celebrates the same thing in many places throughout the country (and world)!

No words can express…

stephaniepittock — Thu, 03 Nov 2011 14:00:58 +0000

Every so often I find myself pretty discouraged and I start to read one of my fall-back books to help me. I’ve mentioned Let Your Life Speak already, and today it was Beth Moore’s Praying God’s Word. Here’s the thing I keep coming back to when I do read these kinds of things: God overwhelms me with how He has protected us during this entire ordeal. We haven’t been completely shattered by it. Our faith has emerged from this intact, even stronger than before. Our relationship is stronger. Emotionally I think we’re actually both healthier than we were, expressing our feelings better than we ever have. How is that possible when we have experienced the greatest personal hell a parent can ever face?

The grace of God is the only thing that keeps us whole. And I am overwhelmed that He loves us so much that He continues to walk us through this horrible time, that He has shielded us from the attacks of Satan. This God who came in the flesh to redeem the world still protects us daily, and I am floored by it. The same God who holds my little girl safely in heaven is also holding my heart so that it won’t shatter into a million pieces on earth. He who knitted Samantha together in my womb is also knitting our marriage together daily so that we are not torn apart. I am speechless.

Just getting by

stephaniepittock — Wed, 02 Nov 2011 20:18:59 +0000

I seem to have become a sporadic blogger again. So here’s the latest update on how we’re doing. I think we’re ok. Just ok at this point. This past Sunday we were confronted with meeting several area pastors who have been praying for us, and they shared that fact with us when we met them. It was one of those days when I could barely acknowledge their sympathy. Some days I can smile and say thank you, others it’s enough that I can keep from crying. Lately that’s been more the case for both of us, missing our little Samantha so much that it hurts.

Part of that is that we’re both sick right now, fighting off some sort of sinus viral thing. This morning let myself sleep in and woke shortly before 11! I never sleep that late, so I must have needed it. And while I’m still tired, I feel better than I have in three days. Travis went home to eat lunch, and when I texted him two hours later I apparently woke him up! He sat down and promptly fell asleep. So being under the weather brings our emotions to the surface more. The other fact is that we’re closing in on the 4-month mark of being without our daughter. We’ve almost been without her as long as we were with her, and it’s just unreal to me. I miss her so much, as much as I did the first week she was gone. I think the only reason I’m not bawling my eyes out every night is that the antidepressant is working. It doesn’t stop the pain, just makes it possible for me to breathe through it and fall asleep again. That and benedryl. Yesterday was technically All Saints’ Day, though we celebrate it in church this coming Sunday. I know it’s going to be a tough one for us. One of the rituals at our church is reading the names of those who have died in the last year from our congregation. I don’t know how Travis is going to get through that. I at least don’t have to publically read the name of our daughter. I’m tempted to not go to church at all this weekend, but I know being surrounded by friends and family is good for me. And I’ve been away from church so much this year already.

Meanwhile, this month we will celebrate our 10th anniversary. Big deal (sorry honey). Because of the last few years that have taken their toll on us, I know that this milestone is significant. Yet I feel pretty empty about it, knowing that the celebration we began this calendar year with ended in misery. Why bother celebrating this? I know it’s important, I just can’t seem to get excited about it. It’s part of why I asked my niece to have a birthday party with me (her birthday is two days before mine). Somehow I can get more excited about celebrating with her than I can about celebrating on my own. It’s the children in our lives that make this pain bearable these days. I am forever thankful to have my four precious nieces living around the corner. Having kids at our church every day helps too. I often stick my head in the infant room and talk to the babies, and it helps. Of course I’m not doing that this week since I don’t want to spread my germs. Mostly I just try to get through each day and doing the bare minimum. That’s hard enough for me when I’m not grieving, but missing my little girl makes it so much worse. Thank God I don’t have a pile of TV shows on the DVR that I’m into right now, or I’d just sit on the couch all day every day.

Keep those prayers coming!

We’re back

stephaniepittock — Wed, 19 Oct 2011 16:15:11 +0000

Thank you all for the prayers! Our trip was wonderful. I was worried that it would be painful, and while at times I was sad, it was more the regular day-to-day sadness that comes from missing my little girl than the heavy weight of “she should have been with us” that I dreaded. Instead it was a fantastic trip, and I actually found God was “blooming joy” in me during it a couple of times.

First of all, I laughed a lot. Some of it was stupid (ok, most of it was stupid) but it felt good. And we ate a lot. Probably more than we should have. And drank too much. But then in the midst of it were these moments where I was so aware of God at work in the lives of others, and I had to smile.

We went because a dear friend got married. And in the midst of her wedding, I was so aware that this was a holy moment, God-ordained. It was beautiful. I nearly cried. I’m pretty sure the bride did cry. It was amazing to see. We’re just so happy for her and her new husband!

Then we attended church at a congregation that I hadn’t been around for close to seven years, I think. Their pastor retired a couple of years ago and it was a tough situation for the congregation towards the end from what we’ve heard. But now they have a new pastor who has been there for about a year, and in the midst of his sermon I thought, “they have a pastor who really loves them! Praise God!” I just kept smiling. I was soooo happy for them. They needed him, needed a pastor to come in and love them. And he does.

We tried to fit in as many people as we could on our trip, but it’s hard when time is limited and there’s a major event like a wedding in the mix. So if you’re reading this and we didn’t fit you in, we’re so sorry we missed you. Next time we will try to see more folks if we can, though I don’t know when we’ll get back there again. It was so lovely to see so many friends and just chat and catch up. What a blessing!