A Birthday Letter

Dear Samuel,

When I close my eyes I can still see you. I can feel your precious cheeks on my lips and I can smell the scent that was uniquely yours. I can hear your tiny squeak and I can feel the peace I felt when I first held you and the heartbreak that incurred when I placed you in a bassinet and said a final goodbye.

I wonder today....

What would we have done for your first birthday?
Would you have enjoyed your first cupcake? Would you have smushed it all over your face or would you have gingerly picked at it like your big sister?

When I woke up with tears this morning- Daddy told me that if you were here you would toddle over and give me a big hug and I said- "Likely, you would be laying on the floor throwing a tantrum and I would take for granted the fact that I had you (tantrums and all) rather than cherish ALL the moments (easy and difficult)."

Would your sister have been annoyed with you- the fact that you would be getting into all her stuff or would she have shown you the care that she showed for you today-- when she wept over the popping of her red balloon that we bought in your memory. As her weeping continued- she told me-- I am not crying over my popped balloon mom- I am crying because I miss Samuel.

Would she have hugged you with the same vigour she hugged our Samuel Bear? Would she have celebrated that it was your day- or would she have wished for it to be her own?

Would I have such a longing for eternity or would I be muddling along in life- living the status quo- complaining about how difficult being a mom is?

Would I understand the gift that you are-- if you were sitting right in front of me?

Oh dear- Samuel-- how I miss you.  I was so eager to become pregnant again- as I knew it would be part of our healing process but this pregnancy has left me divided.  While we are excited and I anticipate the arrival of your baby brother or sister- every step of this journey reminds me of the loss of you.

I did not know what it would feel like to reach your first birthday without you. It is hard. I think of you everyday but today feels harder.

I imagine you- in the arms of our Father. What comfort I find in the fact that you are cradled in His arms. The same God that I talk to is holding you- how close this draws us together.

I tried to imagine the kind of party that may take place in heaven today- but then I realized- no party is necessary for everyday you dwell in joy, extravagance and celebration.

I am curious...

Do you know who I am? Do you know how much I love you? Does it matter?

I am humbled by the way in which God has used you in our lives. You have taught our family so much and you have eternally shaped us. You were so brave - even if you did not know it and you were so strong- fighting until the end.

Today we celebrate the impact that you have had on our life. We celebrate the change that we have seen as a result of your brief time with us and we cherish God's faithfulness in this journey. Through 2 Chronicles 20- God communicated to us that this was not our battle to fight and that He would fight for us- this was true a year ago and continues to be so. I am grateful today that my head is above water and our family has stayed afloat.

You are remembered and treasured dear Samuel. Thank you for being uniquely ours.

I am asking Jesus to pass on lots of hugs to you today and through many friends and family- I have felt Jesus giving us many Samuel hugs back.

I love you.

Love, Mom

The Delicate Dance of Joy and Grief

It has been nearly 7 months since I last blogged. Without providing an excuse- I will say that my silence says much about this leg of the journey. Perhaps- today- I am turning a corner and I may be able to fill you in little with some upcoming entries. For now- I will be brief.

Our grief is still very real. A week tomorrow marks one year since our precious Angel Samuel entered and exited this world. At moments- I feel like our experience of him is surreal and I question if it really happened. In other moments- I am brought right back to his scent, his lightness in my arms and his kissable cheeks. What a gift!

Our Joy is also real. On August 1, 2014- we found out we were expecting. This pregnancy has been its own journey- as it has surfaced new feelings surrounding our loss of Samuel, it has caused fear that we may need to walk the same road again and it has come with some physical unknowns and difficulties.  All that to say- I am 30 weeks pregnant today and our Baby Bits (as we fondly refer to him or her) is rolling around and kicking as I write. What a gift!

This is a picture of Baby Bits at 28 weeks gestation. Our AMAZING specialist did a quick 3D shot for us!!! Though we have had some other complications- Bits only shows signs of health!







In both grief and joy-multiple truths still stand:

1. The same God that held me throughout last year- holds me today.
2. He is Good!
3. We dare to hope because we have caught an even deeper glimpse of an eternal perspective that far outweighs anything we will face or experience (good or bad) here on earth.
4. We are anticipating the arrival of our 3rd child- each one of our children is a blessing, has their own story and was specifically given to us- so that we can steward the gift that they are- according to who Christ has called us to be as their parents.

This is all I can muster tonight. My heart has so many stories and lessons to share.

I feel called and convicted to continue to tell our redemptive story. 

Thanks for reading!

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.