Blessed be the name of the Lord

The process continues- it has been a while since I last blogged.  Not even sure if anyone bothers to check in here anymore. However, this last week- I randomly met someone while we were camping who happened to know our story because she had been reading our blog which she was directed to by a friend of mine. This is not the first time that I have met a complete stranger who has known our story before meeting me.  After meeting her- I was reminded that this is a place that God uses to help me process as well as a place where I have seen Him inspire my thoughts and words and then use them to impact other people and, as a result, continue to redeem Samuel's story. I am not sure what shape this blog will continue to take but I will write when I feel convicted to do so.  The following feels a bit jumbled but- as I said it is a process- so please bear with me. 

Today marks five months since our precious Samuel entered this world and then peacefully slipped into eternity. My arms still ache. I long to hold him close. I grieve the fact that he is buried in a cemetery in Surrey rather than snuggled in a bassinet in our trailer (we are camping).  I long for his cries to wake me up in a few hours because he needs another feeding. I wish I could kiss his precious baby cheeks just one more time and I am sad that I will never know his little personality (or big one- if he would have been anything like his sister). 

I often get asked- how I am doing. A fair question for sure. Even appreciated as it makes me feel like others have not forgotten our son or our loss.   

My answer :

Well.  We are doing well.  We continue to experience a peace that passes all understanding. If prior to Samuel's birth I felt that an impending wave was coming toward us; a wave that felt like it may consume us, I now feel like the sea is settling and we have come up for air. We are still wet. Some days we feel a bit aghast. But our head is above the surface and we can breathe. Before ever conceiving Samuel, as I heard stories of other mother's losing their children or birthing a stillborn-- I remember thinking- Oh Lord that could never be me. I was rendered powerless at the thought of facing circumstances so horrific.  I was sure I would drown and never resurface. But we have.  God is good.  All the time.  He has carried us and has not just left us sputtering but we are resurfacing- we are being refreshed and we are breathing deeply and we have been given strength and even much joy. 

That said- our joy is still not absent of grief.  I had a friend tell me the other day that I am still not quite back to my old self. I have been chewing on this the last couple of days. It has bothered me. I thought I was doing particularly good- so what did she mean that I was not back to my old self? The more I have pondered this- the more I realize that my old self is exactly that- my old self.  It will never return. I have been changed by this experience. 

I walk in peace only by walking in surrender. 

When it snowed in February and March  and my mind wandered to my precious son being wrapped in a light blanket, buried in in a casket underneath all that snow-- I had to choose surrender. I had to choose to hang onto the hope that I have that my son is actually resting and giggling in the arms of Jesus.  

When another person complains about their pregnancy, their labour or their children-- I have to choose surrender. I have to choose to see them as Christ see's them and to love them with His eyes-- and then I can have empathy for their current feelings and I can walk with them in whatever they are struggling with. 

Our joy and grief dance together on a daily basis-- sometimes in subtle ways and sometimes in ways that are more potent.  

I have had a few moments in the last week in particular where this has been true. The other day, as I floated on an air mattress in the middle of a lake- I found myself feeling quite full of bliss.  The sun was shining, the air was warm, the water was refreshing and my surroundings were breathtaking. As I sat in that moment, breathing it in, the tears began to flow and out of my heart of complete joy I missed my son and I stood face to face with my grief. I LOVED that moment- it was beautiful, it was healing. 

Ultimately, I find rest in knowing that Samuel is whole and he is not suffering. Not only that but he is daily rejoicing with Jesus. He is already experiencing being face to face with Christ-- something that I can only continue to long for until my time here is complete. 

I feel conviction. I DO NOT want to miss what the Lord is saying. What is He calling us to through all of this. I feel discontent with living the status quo. I feel the pull to something more. He has put his finger on our lives. He has carried us through this. He continues to bring redemption to Samuel's story-- where is He leading us. What does He have for us out of this. I will never be the same- so what should the new me look like? 

 I am reading a book called "Kisses from Katie" (I highly recommend it). Today, I read the same page over and over again because every time I sat down to read- Moriah engaged me in the excitement of our surroundings. That said- maybe the Lord knew that today- on the day that marks Samuel's five month birthday and death anniversary-- I needed to be reminded of the verse that marked the start of my page--

 Job 1:21-- The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord. 

Our story of Samuel brings me so much joy. He is such a gift. As I continue to share his story-- even when my heart aches- I not only choose to say- blessed be the name of the Lord but I truly believe that He is good. 

The Scent of a Child

We passed another milestone this week.  The three month mark.  Three months? How can that be? It was four months from finding out about Samuel's diagnosis until his birth. Those four months lasted FOREVER.  Now it has been three months since his passing and I have no idea where the time has gone.  This scares me a little.  The further away we get from his birth, the further I feel from him. How can you love and miss someone so deeply that you only knew for 10 minutes? It is crazy.

My wonderful sister-in-law had made a shadow box with some pictures and keepsakes in it for Samuel's memorial. It still sits on our mantle. One of the keepsakes is the toque that he wore (Chris' Great Grandma had made it for our oldest nephew Mackenzie when he was born but it was always too small for Mackenzie so Mom saved it for us!) This toque was the only item that touched Samuel that I have not washed. This may sound crazy but on Tuesday night- I found myself watching the video from Samuel's memorial while opening up the shadow box, retrieving the toque and clinging to its scent. It still smells like my baby.  What a gift.

Moments of despair are not common right now. Overall, we continue to experience a peace that passes all understanding.  We walk in more joy moments than moments of grief -- but we still remember.

This week, Moriah has been remembering Samuel through a lot of tough questions.  Top on the list is- "How is Jesus in my heart and in heaven with Samuel?" Every time I try to answer her she quickly gets bored with my ramblings and dismisses me so I am kind of glad she keeps asking as she is forcing me to attempt to perfect my answer. I heard her ask Chris the other night but I did not hear his response.  In hopes that he had done a better job of answering her than me, I asked him later what he said. He admitted that his best efforts only allowed him to affirm the validity and quality of her question but that was about it.  I guess we both have a bit of work to do.

Tonight, Moriah remembered Samuel by asking when Jesus was going to go to the hospital again. When I asked her what she meant- she said she wanted to know if Jesus was going to go to the hospital to be with Samuel because he is still sick. In great gusto and joy- I reminded her that Samuel was no longer sick but that he was healed.  Her little eyes lit up-  and she said, "so does that mean that he gets to come home?" I had to retract and remind her that Samuel is only healed because he is in heaven with Jesus. If he was steal here he would be very sick still. For the first time, I told her a bit about the brokeness of his body (something his little sleeper hid well).  She was disappointed. She then informed me that she wished that Samuel could go camping with us. She often shows her grief by sharing the things she dreams of doing with him.

I cannot remember if I have shared this yet and I am not going to look back and check right now.  If I have- it is worth the repeat.  One of the most amazing gifts we continue to receive is her sensitivity to the Spirit. She is not a huggy child but every so often, she runs up and gives one or both of us a hug and then proceeds to tell us that Samuel gave Jesus a hug, Jesus gave her a hug and she is supposed to give us the hug so as to pass it along.

If you are still reading this. Thank you. Thank you for reading all along and checking back in for an update (despite the fact that I have been MIA for a while). We continue to covet your prayers. I will continue to write whenever I feel prompted. Bless you.

Having a Moment...

Today I miss my baby.  Overall, we have been doing well. Better than what I expected- to be honest. We get up each day.  Joy often comes with the morning.  And our life is moving forward. We are not moving on but we are moving forward. It is hard to believe that our precious Samuel Tekoa Wiens entered this world and then left it again almost six weeks ago already. Some days- it does not even feel like all this has happened and some days (or moments)- it feels all too real and raw.

I have been hanging onto a verse from Lamentations which our Pastor highlighted this past Sunday-- "Yet I still dare to hope" (Lamentations 3:21). 

Though we were caught off guard - blindsided really- with the news of Samuel's diagnosis- last October 1- we still dared to hope.  We hoped for His healing. We hoped for medical error. We hoped to see him not suffer. We hoped to have him- even for a short time. We dared to hope. We clung to hope. It held the darkness back and made facing each day possible.    

Though we were caught off guard with his quick and early arrival on February 6, 2014- we still dared to hope. We hoped for a cry and we got two small squeaks. We hoped for a snuggle and we got 10 precious minutes. We dared to hope. We clung to hope. In the midst of those moments- in the valley of the shadow of death- hope allowed us to breathe.  It allowed us to stay standing. It allowed us to see the gift we had been given in Samuel and the miraculous way in which the days circumstances unfolded.

Each day since Samuel's birth and death- we dare to hope. Each moment I spend with God- I find hope in the fact that the same God I am talking to and listening to is the God that- in the same moments- is holding my precious baby in His arms. Somehow- this eases my broken mama heart and my aching mama arms. If I close my eyes- I can almost picture the two of us sitting at the feet of Jesus together - it is just that one of us is doing so in a literal manner while the other is doing so figuratively. I cling to this hope.

We dare to hope in the redemptive nature of our Lord. We have hope in the fact that He is still good despite this loss. We have hope that He is using the story of Samuel to refine us and to impact others. We have hope that He is making right all that is broken in this situation. We dare to hope. 

We dare to hope that one day we will be reunited with our son-- oh what a glorious day that will be. What a gift- that we have that hope to hang onto. My longing for heaven has changed through this experience. And to think- our child- will be able to show us the ropes! We dare to hope. 

I started this post- clinging to the pictures below. The life in Samuel's eyes. The peace as his heart still beat (albeit slowly) against my chest. These pictures reflect the brief moments we had our son alive. Though I tried to memorize his face and his body in those moments and the hours that followed with him-  the time was too short- to really know him. Some days I close my eyes and I cannot see him. I can still smell him but I cannot see him. I can still feel his cheeks on my lips but I cannot see him. I can feel the weight of his body in my arms but I cannot see him. When I started this post- my hurt felt too raw. Too unfair. Too heavy. Yet upon reflection- I still dare to hope. 

Joy Filled Moments

We celebrated/remembered the one month marker of Samuel's birth and death- this past Thursday.  Moriah has been asking to make a card to attach to a helium balloon to let go of and send to Samuel in heaven.  So she made a card, picked out two balloons (one for Samuel and one for her) and the three of us headed to 'Angel world' to remember our boy.

It was good to be back there.  I have NEVER understood why people visit cemetery's- especially those who believe that the body is simply the vessel of the person they love. I still do not really understand why- but I now understand the desire to do so. I have been wanting to head back to 'Angel World' for the last couple of weeks but I have not found the right time to do so. Moriah's enthusiasm to let Samuel's balloon go and our laughter over the fact that her card ended up being far too heavy to attach to the bottom of the string-- made our time at the cemetery somewhat chaotic and oddly enjoyable. Though my heart felt the grief of our loss -- I felt encouraged by our laughter. Ahh-- such mixed emotions.

I am not going to write much more- just a few captions as I share some snapshots of joy over the last month.

 Moriah is doing so well with her letters. She was so proud to write her name and Samuel's name on the front of his card- as well as to send him lots of hugs and kisses. 

 She wanted to draw him lots of pictures as well as have me include a special message. 

 She loves drawing wolves right now- so that is the white image at the bottom of the page- if you were wondering! :-)

 Here she is with her pink and red balloon-- she kindly picked the pink one for Samuel and the red one for herself!

 Moriah and her cousin decorating cookies together on Valentine's day! 

 The final product!

 Mmmm.... Moriah received her very own cake pop maker as a big sister gift! She tried it out while her cousins were here. She loves it!

 A cozy show while enjoying the snow! 

 Moriah also likes to try her hand at photography. She took this picture of me when the three of us visited Science world on Samuel's due date! This was our first visit as a family- we had lots of fun. Moriah even saw her first movie in a theatre! She loved it!

 Enjoying the lego exhibit!

 Having hot chocolate at one of our friend's houses! What fun!

 Celebrating the arrival of Violet!  My dear friend Mandy and I had the same due dates back when Moriah and and Jane were due. The girls ended up being two weeks apart. This time round Mandy was due two weeks after me- we were both expecting boys.  Surprise.... he actually was a she! Violet is a special gift to this Auntie who is in some serious need of baby snuggles.  

 Not sure we would label this a joy filled moment but I decided to include it.  Chris was hit in the mouth with a puck last Saturday night and received 12 stitches. On a happier note- the TWU Men's Hockey team is playing the deciding game of the first round of playoffs tonight!  We are hoping for a win! 

Some Muddled Reflections

Yesterday marked three weeks since Samuel's birth and passing.  I have wanted to write so many times but I just haven't. Navigating grief is exhausting.

I want to start by thanking all of you who have been walking with us.  How blessed are we to have so many people who have taken the time to love us through this. As we awaited Samuel's arrival- we were overwhelmed by the prayers, words of encouragement and overall care that we received by so many people. We were deeply touched by the number of people who came to Samuel's celebration(or birthday party- as Moriah would call it)-- wow- thank you. And we continue to be blessed by the gift of daily meals and delicious baking (I am never going to lose this baby weight).  SO- thank you to all those who have taken the time to care for us.  I cannot tell you how much this means to us.

What a joy it is to celebrate Samuel. The day of his celebration was truly beautiful for me. It was something that I feared so much prior to his birth and it turned out to be so-- perfect. Prior to the service- we held a family graveside service. My brother led and directed it, my parents secured all the details with the funeral home and each member of our immediate family shared things that the Lord had laid on their hearts. How beautiful these moments were.

I have an overwhelming fear of graveyards, hearses, coffins, dead people- you name it-- that stems from some serious spiritual attacks I faced as a child.  I was dreading this 'have to' event that needed to take place in order to bury our son-- but - in preparing for it and in experiencing it- I witnessed- once again-- God's goodness.  A number of months ago- as we still waited with hope- for Samuel's earthly healing-- I decided to take a round about way to my friend's house and to drive by the cemetery where we thought we might bury our baby. As far a Moriah was concerned we were just happily on our way to a play date.  She was singing away in the back seat and lost in her own little world. However, as we drove past the cemetery- she looked up and proclaimed- "Look Mom- it's Angel World."  I was astonished.  I inquired a bit as to what made her call this Angel world and she told me it was because there were Angels there.  Now- in all fairness- there is a big white statue (of Jesus) right near the front of the cemetery- so she could have seen this and - assumed it was an Angel-- but I am still not so sure.  She has amazed me with her sensitivity to the spiritual realm (have I told you that on the morning that we had Samuel- she came downstairs - before we went to the Doctor or knew that anything was up- and she said-- "Mom- I think my heart is going to break today"-- I told her that her heart was not going to break.  Little did I know that she would meet and lose her brother that day).



Anyway- back to Angel world.  As we planned Samuel's graveside- we were posed with the dilemma of how to present it to Moriah. We knew that we wanted her there- as it just did not seem right to not have her with us- but we did not know how to help things make sense for her (you try explaining the separation of body and soul to a three year old).  Once again, God showed us how He had His hand in Samuel's story from the outset.  I asked Mo if she remembered seeing Angel world and she did. She even reminded me that we drove past it in our old car. We were able to share with her that we would be burying a treasure box of our earthly memories of Samuel (that's all his body really is) and that it would be in a place that we could go back and visit if we felt like we really missed him and just needed a place to remember.  We took her shopping and let her pick out something that she thought that Samuel would love as we wanted her to have something tangible to picture in the treasure chest. She picked out a cow stuffie/blanket that is very similar to her Bun-bun (her favorite stuffie).  We decorated the cow stuffie up and we delivered                                                                       him to Granny and Grandpa's so that they could place him in the box for us.


On the day of the graveside- Moriah was excited to head to Angel world to bury our treasures of Samuel. Isn't that beautiful. What a gift this was to me. All my fears were laid aside- and as I gazed upon my baby's tiny coffin- all I saw was a treasure chest. And- as I closed my eyes and pictured its contents- I saw the precious memories I had of caring him in utero and of holding him in my arms. I can still close my eyes and feel the warmth of the sun on that brisk afternoon. I felt such peace.  We ended the service by releasing 38 blue balloons (representing the weeks in utero) and 1 red balloon (representing the time we had with Samuel). The release of these was such a beautiful moment.

We proceeded from the graveside to the church- where the feeling of peace and joy continued. God's presence during worship (which was led by some of our dear family members), through our friends and family member's words, through the reading of a children's story, through the leadership of our pastor and friend and through the display of our slideshow (the gift of pictures from our dear friend Anita and the compilation of pics and songs by a friend from Power to Change) was tangible.

          Our Pastor and Friend Keith praying for us as we dedicate Samuel to the Lord.

 Our dear friend Ali reading "The Crippled Lamb" and a whole bunch of our little friends listening intently. 

 A glimpse of my sister-in-law's (Christine) gift to us. She took care of all the set up details for the service. 

The weeks that have ensued- have often carried this same tone of joy and peace-- but they have also carried the realities of grief.  I am finding much solace in reading. One of the books that our friends Mel and Michelle gave to us is called "I will carry you: The Sacred Dance of Grief and Joy".  This 'dance' is delicate and intricate. It fills our moments and our days right now. I have much to reflect on regarding this but exhaustion has hit tonight. I hope to continue writing new posts- I find much comfort and healing in doing so. We continue to pray that Samuel's story will have an impact and as a result- it will be redeemed.  Thank you for taking the time to read this.

We continue to need your prayers:
- Please continue to pray for Moriah's sleep.  She was doing really well but has begun waking up again- a couple times of night. She cannot bring herself to talk about her fears but our prayers would be that she would make it through the night without these fearful moments.
- Pray for my sleep- I have had a few panic attacks at night- and I dream often of losing people who are close to me. Please pray for peace in these areas.
- Pray for Chris and I- we process very differently.  We know this about each other and we are okay with it (though sometimes we drive each other crazy). Pray that we are sensitive to each other as we grieve in different ways. Pray that we SEE each other and really understand where we are at and pray that we continue to be drawn together in this journey.
-Finally- please pray that Samuel's story will continue to have an impact. 

Samuel's Celebration and Dedication Service

We would like to invite you to join us as we celebrate God’s goodness in giving us our precious Samuel. Our journey has been tough but we believe Samuel’s brokenness can be redeemed through how God is and will use his little life as well as through how God is working and will work in our family. We have been so abundantly blessed by the role that so many of you have played in this journey. We do not take for granted the words of encouragement, the meals, the prayers or the friendship that has helped carry us through this time. We could not face tomorrow without you- our community. 

We are trying to make this service family friendly- so as to involve Moriah as much as possible and to allow our little friends to celebrate with us- as so many have prayed for baby Samuel in a sweet and innocent way.  Please feel free to bring your children. We are not afraid of a little noise.

Finally- please try and come with hearts of celebration.  There will be tears- because we are sad at our loss but our desire is to recognize and celebrate God’s goodness – despite our sorrow. 

When- Thursday February 13, 2014 at 3pm

Where- North Langley Community Church – 21015 96^th Ave

There will not be a reception to follow.  We recognize that some people would like to give in some way. We will provide envelopes for donations for Canuck Place and for donations towards wheelchairs for our church’s (Jericho Ridge Community Church) upcoming Missions trip to Guatemala. 

He was broken but he was beautiful.

Samuel Tekoa Wiens took us by surprise and entered the world on Thursday, February 6, 2014. I woke up Thursday morning with some heavy bleeding which caused us some concern.  We called our Doctor and we were in to see him by 9:40 am.  Once we were there the symptoms seemed less pronounced and- initially- our Doctor planned to send us home and to monitor us by seeing us the next morning. However- as we were about to leave- the bleeding increased and our Doctor sent us over to the hospital to be checked out.  While we were there - it was determined that I was in the early stages of labour.  I initially have - what my Doctor calls- silent labour (sorry to all those ladies- who do not have the privilege of experiencing this)-- which means I am in labour without really knowing it-- and when my labour actually begins- it is fast and furious (sorry gentlemen who do not want to hear these details).  We were told that after some blood tests we would likely be sent home but that our dear Samuel would be coming soon.  While we waited for the blood work- we passed the time by discussing what we thought Samuel would weigh, how long he would be and whether or not we would have him in the next twenty-four hours.  Moments after Chris said that he thought there was no way it would be that quickly-- our Doctor arrived and told us that they were preparing a room for us and that we would not be going home.  His prediction was that we would have Samuel by that evening (this was around 12:30pm). 

Before- I share more-- I have to tell you the most AMAZING miracle.  As we were in the examine room- the most precious and sweet head nurse- Rochelle- treated us with the utmost care. She received us like she would any other patient and her sympathetic and sweet spirit - immediately put us at ease.  While we were waiting for the blood work- she came in to tell us that, if we did need to stay, there was a nurse who was working who could not wait to have us as her patients. Soon we were settled into room 333 (the same room that Moriah was born in) with nurse Ruth.  It turns out that Ruth usually works weekends and she had decided to pick up an extra shift on Thursday.  Prior to us coming in- she had spoken to some of her colleagues that she wondered if her purpose in being there was to deliver our baby (as we have shared before- all the nurses knew we were coming at some point-- and due to the delicacy of our situation- there were mixed feelings regarding what this would be like).  Again- this was said before it was even on her radar that we were actually there.  When we met her- she told us that she had been praying for us since she had heard about us and that she felt privileged to walk through this with us. Praise the Lord for handpicking Ruth to journey with us.  

It was determined that I had a placental abruption- but it was hard to tell how severe it was.  As my labour increased a bit- there was some concern- due to the fact that I was beginning to lose a lot of blood.  So the hope was that my labour would increase quickly - as it did with Moriah (6.5 hours from start to finish) -- and that we could avoid having to do a C-section-- which would have been necessary if I began to bleed out.  This complication brought on some concern initially but we felt as though we were in good hands.  Dr. Hansen proceeded to break my water (1:40 ish) and then we waited. We called my parents to bring Moriah-- whom we had left at preschool that morning- with the intention of seeing her later in the afternoon.  We did not know how our journey with Samuel would unfold- and it was important that Moriah was a part of the journey and that she knew that we (especially Mommy) were okay.  As we awaited her arrival- my labour began to pick up-- not to anything excruciating but contractions were no longer silent.  She came in for hugs and I did my best to put my brave face on through the ever increasing contractions. We were able to tell her that the next time we saw her- she would get to meet her baby brother.  She left and my contractions picked up but so did the bleeding.  The staff had already hooked me up on one IV of fluid to help keep me hydrated due to blood loss but they felt the need to add a second IV so that they could prepare me for a blood transfusion.  At this point- labour became a bit scarier and Chris fired off a few texts just asking our family to pray. 

Another miracle side note- The maternity ward was not overly busy.  So not only did we have Nurse Ruth- whom God had hand picked for us-- but Rachelle, the head nurse acted almost as her side kick and she was amazing.  She also loves photography and offered to document as much as she could of Samuel's first moments.  In addition- though all the nurses know how to do IV's -- Nurse Franz is known in the ward for doing them the BEST.  Though she was not assigned to us- she made the time to come and insert both my IV's.  This process went as smoothly as I have ever experienced for an IV and Franz was such a beautiful - loving woman-- who made us feel like we were of the utmost importance.  We seriously felt like we were getting VIP treatment. 

Anyway- once the IV's were in place- Dr. Hansen came in and asked Franz to get some Oxytocin as he felt it was necessary to speed things up (again- due to blood loss).  Upon hearing this- we just asked that God would speed things up- so that the Oxytocin was not necessary.  While she was gone- over a 7 minute period- I suddenly had three contractions only minutes apart.  By the time she returned- there was no need for the Oxytocin. 

I quickly remembered that labour really is not fun and tried to focus on joyful thoughts every time a contraction came. Chris was my superstar sidekick- and he offered me his hand as well as loving words of encouragement as I laboured on.  I had moments of great fear- as I was aware of significant amounts of blood loss upon each contraction and - as I knew that we were finally going to know the plan that God had for our Samuel. I am so thankful that Chris was by my side and that we were both very aware of the Lord's presence. The nurses intermittently monitored Samuel's heart rate and I felt such relief- each time we heard his heart galloping like a little horse.  His heart rate rose - as it will for any baby at this point of labour- but not once was it in distress (another MIRACLE).

By 4:39pm-- just an hour and 40 minutes after we had seen our precious Moriah- Samuel entered our world.  I remember begging God that I would hear a cry- but there was no cry. He was instantly placed on my chest -- his eyes opened half way and he looked at me.  His body was so broken but he was so beautiful-- the moment was overwhelming.  As Chris cut the cord- Samuel circled his little mouth and tried so hard to make a sound- he made two teeny tiny little squeaks but it was too much. Dr. Hansen checked his heart and it was only 20-30 bpms.  Chris took him and held him.  He marveled at him and held his precious little hand and approximately 10 minutes after Samuel entered this world-- he left it- with no struggle, no gasping, no indication of pain. He passed from the arms of his amazing earthly father into the arms of his Heavenly father.  He was broken-- very broken-- but he was beautiful.

Oh what a moment. We had no fear. We loved on our little boy and we treasured him.  We were given the gift of having him in our arms until approximately 3:00pm the next day. We bathed him, we dressed him, we swaddled him, we hugged him, we sang over him, we read scripture to him, we prayed with over him. We introduced him to our family (some beautiful moments that I may shared details about at another time), we took photos of him, we explored his beautifully broken body and worked hard at committing each part of him to memory. 

And then- we released him. I think that was the hardest thing either of us have ever done. We placed our precious boy in a bassinet and we had to let our sweet nurse Jen (lots more nurse stories will follow in another blog as well) take him away.  We walked - what felt like a disastrous walk of shame- out of the hospital to our car.  Our arms are so empty and though our hearts are full they are so broken. 

I am exhausted.  There is so much more to share but this took everything out of me tonight.  Thank you for hearing Samuel's  story. We will continue to tell it.  There are so many miraculous moments we have yet to convey- I can hardly stand not saying them now.

PLEASE PRAY-
- We are tired.  Sleep is tough. Every part (physically, emotionally and spiritually) of me feels the ache of not mothering my baby in these days after his birth. We are walking in an exhausted fog- where we only wish that our exhaustion was due to the fact that we were up all not settling cries and giving feedings.
- Moriah's heart is broken. It shows in different ways and random times.  Tonight- she blurted out-- "But he (Samuel) was supposed to come and watch me swim" and then she burst into tears.  She is grieving.
- Praise God for the many ways that He answered prayer over the last few days!

I will end tonight with this- though Samuel's life was brief-- we would like to celebrate it. We will be having a celebration/a dedication of his life on Thursday - February 13. It will be open to anyone who has walked this journey with us- that is able to join us.  Details will follow over the next day or so.