Secure in the Everlasting Arms

On my last day in the hospital I was surrounded by my family. Not all family that I can plot on a tree or with genetic code linking our blood line through time. God sent HIS family to me on that last day with my babies. Throughout that day they were there. Most of it is a blur in my mind with moments of clarity.

My parents came with Nora. We snuggled in the big hospital bed together. She tucked her baby doll in with us.

She played peek-a-boo with the room curtain while sitting on my dad’s lap. She ate my ice cream. I tried so hard to be a mom to all of them; to love her and snuggle her while doing my best to protect them. My mom was there trying to take care of me and my daughter. Stepping in when she had to, and back out when I could actually do something.

Nurses came in with things that had been left for me. The care package from Krista filled with healthful snack foods. The beautiful gift basket from the Mothers of Multiples group filled with hope (kindness from complete strangers coordinated with love from another triplet mom).

The gift basket from Melanie with the hand soap that will forever make me think of my babies and the super soft pink blanket that was wrapped around me and my babies the next day, wrapped around me for weeks to follow, and now is tucked around my Nora each night.

A visit from Karen, my babies’ ultrasound “videographer/photographer”. God sent her during her training when I went to have free ultrasounds at the college. I have the most precious images and videos of my babies thanks to her. That day she came and shared her story of the tulips.

Two timid girls from the local radio station who delivered a “warm winter wish” gift basket. My sis-in-law Amy nominated me on their very last day.

Nate came after work. He sat in the chair in the corner and we tried to have a “how was your day” conversation. One day prior we even had a “date night” watching Burn Notice on my laptop while he stood by my side.

Liz came to visit and read to me out of the book “Secure in the Everlasting ARMS”. She told me that she’d been reading it and felt called to share part of it with us. As she was reading the perinatologist came in. I remember looking Liz straight in the eyes and begging her to pray for us. I knew the conversation wouldn’t be an easy one – and it wasn’t.

A visit from Andy and Allison who spoke comfort to my heart from the perspective of parents who have walked the life of a disabled child which I was now facing with my little Alice. They prayed for me before leaving that night.

The nurse who came in to do my vitals just before bed and shared her own story about the son she lost to a neural tube defect. The same nurse who was there when my own were born the next day.

My ever-present OB who was at the end of her 24-hour shift and came to check me when I felt like something was off just after that nurse left. Her tired eyes with no answers.

I can’t write about those who blessed me so powerfully without also mentioning our pastor Kyle who came to be with us twice. The first time, after Alice was born and I was still in labor fighting to keep the other two. The second time, that following morning. He shared the name of the child he had recently lost to miscarriage and prayed over our children and the family.

Anna and Nicki who came first thing in the morning to hold me, hold them, and forever capture the memory of my children with photographs. A gift that I will never have enough words to thank them for.

The necklace that appeared on my bedside table that morning from Sarah. A nest with three little eggs and a blue crystal the color of Nora’s birthstone. I’m wearing it in every picture with the babies that day.

My brothers, sis-in-laws and in-laws who sat in the waiting room all night, not able to change the path we were on (and apparently nearly taking out a janitor who didn’t know when it was time to leave the room). My sis-in-law’s mother, Barb, who took care of all of the children, including Nora, all day/night without question. Kaylie who searched up and down our neighborhood in the dark to find our “lost” dog who was safe and sound with our neighbor. And a few other family members who worked in the hospital stopped by during the week to make sure I was ok. My cousin Lisa spent weeks in the same room and was so hopeful I would do the same.

I can’t even begin to list the blessings we’ve received in forms of prayer, gifts, cards and moments that someone remembered them/us following these days (although I hope to post an album of some of the beautiful gifts we received for their birthday when I have the time to do it).

The moment that sparked this entire post is THIS:

Today I was cleaning the house and opened the top drawer of my dresser. The drawer filled with the things I got while I was pregnant. The remnants of the gift baskets from Tawnda. The belly cream I never even opened. The “Hang On” poster from Leslee.

There was the book from Liz. She left the book on my table that day. The day we left that room it was shoved into a bag and hurried out the door with me. I pulled the book out and what do you know… the author’s name: Elisabeth Elliot. My eyes swell. Elliot. The spirit moved my dear friend and she listened. I opened the book to the marked page (a coloring page with Liz’s notes hold the spot). What did she read to me that day? What did she pray for us?I tried so hard to recall but these are the things that stand out to me today.

“Faith is a decision. It is not a deduction from the facts around us. we would not look at the world of today and logically conclude that God loves us. It doesn’t always look as though He does. Faith is not an instinct. It certainly is not a feeling–feelings don’t help much when you’re in the lions’ den or hanging on a wooden Cross. Faith is not inferred from the happy way things always work. It is an act of the will, a choice, based on the unbreakable Word of God who cannot lie, and who showed us what love and obedience and sacrifice mean, in the person of Jesus Christ.”

“Put your trust in Him. not in people or circumstances or dreams or programs or plans, not in any human notion of what will or won’t happen, but in the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, of Daniel and all the others–the God whose Son went through the darkest valleys so that you and I might be saved. If somebody was willing to give his life for you, would you trust him? Of course you would. Jesus loved you then. He loves you now. He’ll be loving you every minute of every hour of every day of the rest of your life, and no matter what happens, nothing can separate you from that love. I know it’s true. I have found that sure and steadfast Refuge in my Lord and Savior–the only real safety–the Everlasting Arms! I’ve walked with God a long time. I know He keeps His promises.” (Secure in the Everlasting ARMS by Elisabeth Eliot)

This is where I wrap it all up into a perfect package. Where I tell you that I have it all figured out and those words in the book today have perfect clarity for me in the moment. Sadly I don’t have it all figured it out (my high school english teachers would be so disappointed). I don’t understand why this happened to us. I don’t know why we were chosen to walk this path. I just know that God was there. That He orchestrated a family of love and support around me and my children. He helped clothe me in armor for the battle I was about to begin and would continue to fight until the day I meet Him. Although I can’t seem to wrap my heart around why God would chose this for me I can stand firm in my trust that we were not alone at that time and we are not alone today. He does hold us in His everlasting arms whether we’re walking in the midst of joy or sorrow.

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Little Ones to Him Belong

I’ve never been more aware of shared grief than in the last few months. When you lose someone so close to your heart sometimes it’s easy to forget how that loss effects the other people who are grieving. From the start of this grief journey I’ve felt most connected to my husband and our parents, especially our mothers. They are not only grieving the loss of their grandchildren but also the pain that their own children are feeling that they can’t fix and they can’t take away. Maybe that’s why it feels like their pain is equal to my own when others, although sad and hurting in their own way, can’t always relate to the depth of our sorrow. There are days that I’m thankful for that. Nobody should have to feel this type of hurt.

I’m so thankful for the moments that my mom and mother-in-law have taken to notice our pain or simply acknowledge the effort that we’ve taken to partake in life and joy when they realize it’s not an easy choice for us. Others might not see behind the simple words of support for another’s happy journey, but they do.

My siblings hurt in their own way as well. Sometimes I feel as if it’s almost harder for them. They lived that day (and the months before and after) as emotionally as we did and yet others might not always remember their hurt. They might not always see their hearts in the midst of every day moments. My sister-in-laws have been especially open to sharing my grief and have tried to walk their own children through this grief journey with care and a tender heart. How do you explain the death of cousins to 6-11 year olds? The kids younger than age of 5 don’t seem to really understand the loss, but the older kids very much feel that pain. I think they have been the ones I’ve most struggled to include in a tangible way. I try to remember that they might feel the way I do so often; it’s harder when it’s ignored than when it’s acknowledged. How do we allow them to grieve?

I’ve had some pretty special stories shared with me in the past months. My sis-in-law Melanie sent me these sweet pictures. My niece Emily had a school project about constellations and of all the things she could have done she chose to make hers about her baby cousin Alice.

My sis-in-law Amy made beautiful shadow boxes with/for her kids. She allowed the kids to take them to school to share the story of their cousins with their classmates and ultimately share the story of how Jesus has a place for us in Heaven. They’ve shared the Alice Mae children’s book with their friends. They’ve shed tears for them.

I’m so thankful that my sis-in-laws shared these special projects with me. It’s a moment for me to share in their pain after so many have shared in mine. It helps me realize that they do remember them and that brings equal joy and pain to my heart. Such young children shouldn’t have to feel this pain and loss. They shouldn’t have to know this at such a young age. Yet there is a glimmer of hope in my heart that maybe, just maybe, it will help shape their faith to know and love Jesus.

As their first birthday approaches tomorrow I have these children in my heart as well as they very much miss their cousins as much as I miss my sweet children. Although we’ve chosen to spend tomorrow with only our immediate family, my heart is thinking of all of my family who are missing them as well and pray that they can find a moment to celebrate the joy that we knew these beautiful babies and not just feel the grief of missing them. That has become my prayer for myself tomorrow; to find JOY and CELEBRATION in the day of their birth, in the fact that they were with us for 22 weeks and three hours in our arms (or the arms of their grandparents). I’ve spent a year grieving their loss and I want to spend a day celebrating their life no matter how short.

My Little “Big Sister”

Alexis Marie ~ Alice Mae

The conversation comes out of nowhere but it comes up often. Tonight of all things it stemmed from the TV show Undercover Boss. There aren’t many evening television shows that are safe for little ears but I can only handle so much PBS toddler TV before I need a switch. After Wheel of Fortune tonight Nate left for a night with the guys at church and flipped it to the show before he walked out the door. We weren’t paying much attention as Nora and I played with Barbies on the couch together. Suddenly her little ears caught something from the show (don’t think they aren’t listening, because they are).
The woman was discussing her life story which included her memories of her mother who died of kidney failure. Nora stops and stares at me and I could immediately tell her little mind was working through something.

“Mommy, why did she die?”

There it was. Well. How do I explain that to a 3-year old when I really don’t have the answers myself. In fact just this morning I was reading the book “Why? Trusting God When You Don’t Understand” by Anne Graham Lotz while Nora was doing her early childhood screening. We don’t have the answers why bad things happen to good people but we have faith that they’re in Heaven and that we’ll see them again through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. I still wrestle with the “why”.

I took a deep breath and told her that everyone dies and we don’t know why some people die when they’re very young and others die when they’re very old. I reminded her that even when we die we go to Heaven if we believe in Jesus and that we’ll be able to go there one day too.

“Just like the babies are with Jesus mommy? And then they’ll come back?!”

Another deep breath. I explained that the babies would not be coming back but that we would see them again some day in Heaven whenever God called us to be with Him. And then it began as it has far too often lately.

“But mommy God is going to send us a baby soon! Anytime now. Any minute God will send us a baby! I’m going to be the best big sister!”

I’m in silence – again. I can’t even tell you how many times my little girl has said these words to me. Countless times at this point. It started only a few weeks after the babies went to Heaven only it was followed by, “God says it will take a long time but we’re going to have another baby!” Now she insists that it’s any moment. Over and over she tells me this.

I don’t know how to respond. I’ve always been consistent that although we’d love for her to have a baby here in our home that she IS and will always BE a big sister. I reassure her that we’d love to have another baby in our home but that we don’t know if God will send us one and no matter what we love Him and thank Him for the babies we have in Heaven. I tell her that we can pray for God to send another baby into our home but we don’t know if He will answer that prayer. Regardless of my calm, consistent responses she insists that a baby is coming soon, “any minute mommy!” with the most excited and joyful little voice.

Tonight I asked her why she knew this thinking maybe she’d have some divine answer. Nope. She simply replied, “I don’t know mommy.”

I asked her if she missed the babies and she agreed that she did. And then the next question that always follows these conversations, “Are you sad now mommy?” – and my heart breaks. I tell her that although it makes me sad that we don’t have the babies with us I am also joyful that they are in Heaven and we’ll see them again. Regardless of how well I’ve carried my grief around her in the last 6 months, the prior months have made an impact on her heart. Part of me is saddened by that and part of me is glad that she will never forget her brother and sisters and she knows how fully we love them and miss them. I can now calmly talk to her about them and it brings my heart joy that God has given me that peace today.

When I remind her that she’ll always be a big sister she tells me, “But mommy, Faith has a little brother. I want a little brother too!” (Now trying explaining what faith is when her good friend is named Faith! haha)

So this time – I took yet another deep breath and I asked her if she wanted to see some pictures of her brother and sisters. She agrees.

I’ve been working on a special project in the last few weeks. A birth announcement for their first birthday. It’s taken me a year to sort through the pictures and be able to find some cropped images of each of my children while they were alive just after birth as well as when they were beautifully dressed the next day. Nora’s only seen one picture of them and hasn’t shown much interest in it beyond the first few weeks when she insisted that we keep it out so she could see them (when I tried to hide it away in their keepsake box).

I opened the image on my computer where she could safely see the pictures of her siblings without the horribly sad pictures of her mommy and daddy that are carefully cropped out. I felt she needed to know that they were real and I pray that she can understand that more fully each year as their birthday nears and we find ways to celebrate their life.

She counted them 1, 2, 3. She looked at their clothes and commented, “A hat, clothes and a ribbon!” for each one of them in the sweetest voice. I pointed to each one and said their name for her. She pointed out the colors of their names. “Pink for Alice, blue for Elliot and yellow for Alexis mommy!” Simple facts to her.

I told her how they were born alive and that we got to hold them, we got to wrap them in blankets, we got to kiss them, and I even got to sing the Sunshine song to them. None of it seemed to matter to her. They were just facts. I pray that some day those facts become real to her. I pray that she grows up knowing that she is a big sister no matter if God sends us another child “any minute” or “in a long long time”.

I never knew if it’d be ok to share some of these things with her but just as the year has gone so quickly since their birth, the year has gone quickly for my 3-year old to become a 4-year old with much more understanding. I’m happy that she could hear some of these things even if she doesn’t completely understand them just yet. They are simple facts for her. She has siblings. She is a sister. We love them. We will be with them again in Heaven with Jesus.

Something just as simple still moves her little heart though. She wants to be a sister here and now – and I can’t promise her that.

I’m a Big Sister! – in Heaven…

Nora snuggled into bed with me this morning and brought a book to read as she often does. With sleepy eyes I rolled to my side and opened the cover not paying attention to what she grabbed. There it was staring back at me “I’m a Big Sister!” the book my friend Nicki sent to Nora when we first found out we were pregnant. I was thrilled at the time and she LOVES this book. After the babies died I didn’t take the time to dig through the books and hide this one away. I WANT her to know that she is a big sister. She’s a little sister too but that’s a bit harder to explain so for the moment we keep it simple with the memories that she herself has and the fact that she is so proud of. She is a big sister. She knows this.

I take a deep breath and read through the pages. Pages that explain the adjustment of big sister and new baby and all of the exciting things that big sisters get to do. Nora doesn’t get to do these things being the big sister of babies in Heaven and with each page turned my heart hurt a bit more for her. My heart hurts for me often but it’s something all together different to hurt through her eyes. We get to the last page and the little girl in the book gets to push the stroller and is rewarded with ice cream (one more thing that big sisters get to do that babies do not). Nora looks at me and I hold my breath. She will say something. I know she will say something.

“Mommy?”
“Yes Nora?”
“When do I get to be a big sister and push the stroller and get ice cream?”
“Well you are a big sister Nora but your baby brother and sisters are in Heaven”
“Well … I want to have a baby here now”
“I know Nora” and before I can say another word she says,
“God is going to give us another baby right now so I can push the stroller and have ice cream. I told Him.”

… deep breath …

“I’m glad you asked God honey but we don’t know if He’ll send us another baby or not. No matter what though you will always be a great big sister and some day you will see them again in Heaven. We can have ice cream anytime if you’d like to do that too.”
“Yes mommy but I want a baby brother.”
“Did you know that you have five brothers and sister in Heaven?”
“No I have six mommy.”
Okay then.

I proceeded to tell her that the babies’ birthday was coming soon and that reminded her that HER birthday was also coming soon and then she was off making plans for her own party and I was left dreaming of ice cream and strollers and my little girl missing out on big sister things and what my little ones will be doing to celebrate in Heaven this year. Do they have ice cream cones in Heaven?

My sister-in-laws gave Nora a beautiful book after the babies died. If they hadn’t written inside of the cover I likely wouldn’t have remembered it was from them as I have no memory of getting it. Sadly I have no memory of a lot of those days. I was shocked at the similarities in the illustrations between the two books. I love that. It’s called “Heaven, God’s Promise for Me” by Anne Graham Lotz. (pictured above on the right)

I love looking through each page and seeing the groups of three everywhere. Three ducks, three lambs, three rainbows. The message is beautiful and so comforting. The pages are filled with joyful creatures and children on every page (and yes, a little girl eating an ice cream cone).

I especially love this page and the beautiful picture of Jesus wiping tears away.

If there are tears on your face
When you arrive on that day,
Jesus Himself
Will wipe them away.
Inside there is no crying.
Inside there is no pain.
Inside there are no bad people.
You’ll never be lonely again.

I love looking at the pictures of the children and trying to imagine which ones might be my kids. Maybe that sounds dumb. But I do. My busy little Elliot with brown hair and eyes riding a fuzzy lamb?











My spunky Alice snuggling with a lion with cute little pigtails?

My Alexis with crazy hair swimming with sharks? I bet she’d have been a good swimmer with her long legs and feet. She loved to stretch out in my tummy so I imagine her here where she didn’t have to fight for leg room.










The beautiful reply that AnGel Ministries wrote to me:

“Your deep love for the Lord Jesus and your unwavering trust in Him in the midst of your heartache and grief is an incredible testimony. Not only that, but to know that He used Anne’s book, Heaven: God’s Promise for Me to touch your heart and life in such an incredible way during this time is a precious encouragement for Anne.

What a blessing it was to read your post! Surely God will use it in a mighty way to speak into the lives of many other grieving parents.

As you approach the anniversary of Alice, Elliot, and Alexis’ home-going, please know that it has been our privilege to pray for you, your husband, and your dear Nora. May the One Who is even now preparing a place for us lovingly bless and tenderly keep each of you as you keep your eyes fixed on Him.

Copyright © 2011 Anne Graham Lotz (AnGeL Ministries) Raleigh, North Carolina, USA. Used by permission. All rights reserved http://www.annegrahamlotz.com.

1st Birthday : Angel Baby Blankets

January has been hard. We survived the holidays starting in October when we first found out we were having three a year ago. Somehow I thought when I got through all of those back to back family affairs that I’d be in the clear. I was wrong.

January 1st hit me like a ton of bricks. It was the first day I was in the ER and came to find I was dilating a year ago. It was the first night I was admitted to the hospital for observation and then sent home with full bed rest. It was when my parent’s and in-law’s lives were flipped upside-down living with us every other week to care for us. I’ve found it hard on several days to get out of bed. Somehow it feels like maybe if I lay there a little longer maybe I’ll have a memory of them that will bring a moment of peace to the day. Maybe I’ll remember how it felt to have them there with me every moment of the day. I hear the theme music to Downton Abbey and my head drifts back to the prior year for a moment. I watched a lot of that show while laying on my left side in bed trying to prop my laptop on a pile of pillows. The pillows. I had a LOT of pillows.

I’m struggling with how to remember them without being overrun with pain. I’m still very much afraid of losing all of my memories of them. Not of their story or what they mean to me – but of the very real details of what I lived with them for 22 weeks. How they felt when they moved. What they looked like in more than just a snapshot taken when they had already passed. Sadly in a mix of grief, horror, shock, pain and mass amounts of narcotics (I wasn’t allowed an epidural), much of it is a fog.

I’m struggling with what a birthday means when it was also the day of death for Alice. When the following day was the day of death for Elliot and Alexis. How do I celebrate their birth without reliving their death? How do I honor a life in a way that won’t rip us apart at the same time. How do I do enough without doing too much? How do I do much of anything in the frigid great north woods with snow and ice? How do I make it ok for Nora so she knows her siblings without making it too much? I don’t have the answers. Nate doesn’t have the answers.

I have had a tough year trying to keep my heart and emotions open to friends and family who care and want to know how I’m doing. I’ve also worn out my welcome with others who I’ve maybe shared too much with. I’ve taken steps back. I’ve met others who are walking through loss. I’ve shared details with strangers who understand in a way I never imagined. I’ve typed novels filled with tears to those who would listen when I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I’ve seen who’s willing to stand with me and who isn’t. It’s not easy to be my friend and I understand that and appreciate those who are here and still ask.

I’ve watched marker babies grow, smile, laugh, sit up, roll over and live moments that I dream of having with my babies. Some days I’m grateful to see them and know how my children could look and other days I’m angry.

I still have no answers about what their day will be but I’ve been inspired by a few other triplet loss mommies and I’m trying to find a way to give back in their memory this year and hopefully every year. I’m taking the first steps to put together at least three care packages to deliver to our local hospital where our babies were born. I want something special to share with another loss family. I want to make something that will bless their life and wrap another angel baby in love from a mommy who understands. I don’t know who made the beautiful things that my babies were wrapped in and that’s ok. Anyone who takes up that calling does it from a place of love like no other. I want to do that for someone else. It just feels right.

I’m not a seamstress by any means and making gowns overwhelms me. So for this year I’m making angel baby blankets. I’m in the groove of crochet which is totally new for me. I like to think that my aunt Linda, master crocheter, is blessing me with some of her talent from Heaven because I’m loving it. I have one blanket done. I started it in church this morning and finished it this afternoon. Being the first one made it must be from Alice – my baby A. I’m not sure what else I’ll include but at the moment this is a start.

If you’re interested in making angel baby blankets or any other items to bless our area please let me know. I’m thinking about contacting the organization that made our gowns to see if they need another resource person to gather finished projects even if I can’t sew them myself. I hope to contact the nurse manager at the local hospitals to see what their needs are. I’ve realized how blessed we are to have had the beautiful things we did for our babies. Others haven’t had these gifts and we got them without asking.

It’s not an answer but it’s a start. Every stitch was made with love and prayers. It’s hard to know that there is a baby who is likely safe in their mommy’s tummy right now who might use it. It quite literally breaks my heart in a way that you can’t understand unless you’ve lived this loss yourself.

Blue Christmas Without You

I’m trying. I’m really trying to find joy this Christmas. I suppose it’s like every other aspect of this process. One minute it’s there and seems effortless and the next it feels impossible to dig myself out of the hole my hope is buried in. Saturday was filled with it. Today is not.

Earlier this week a friend shared a haunting poem written in response to the horrific tragedy that ripped through an elementary school. My heart hurts for the families so newly dropped into grief this Christmas. How must they feel today? As I read the words of this poem I couldn’t stop thinking of my own angels. I don’t mean to disrespect or remove the message of hope and love for the sweet angels it was written for but I can’t stop contemplating the moments that my babies found His arms and what they thought/think about those left behind. I suppose I’d never really fully thought about that. I wonder what their first Christmas will be like and who they are with.

I think about my aunt who passed away this time last year. She held on through Christmas day and then flew into His arms. Are they with her? I like to think so. My what treats she must be baking for them. I can’t fill their tummies with treats this year but what wonderful things they must have with the bakers that have gone before! Between my grandmas, great aunt, and aunt Linda I can be sure they’ll have their share of milk and cookies.

My heart is broken and hurting and trying – trying desperately to find joy. I know the reason for the season and am thankful to have His birth to focus on, but I miss them.

— — —

I’m hoping it’s ok to also use the photo that came along with this.
I don’t know who to credit for it’s use.

Written by Cameo Smith, Mt. Wolf, PA

Twas’ 11 days before Christmas, around 9:38
When 20 beautiful children stormed through heaven’s gate.
Their smiles were contagious, their laughter filled the air.
They could hardly believe all the beauty they saw there.
They were filled with such joy, they didn’t know what to say.
They remembered nothing of what had happened earlier that day.
“Where are we?” asked a little girl, as quiet as a mouse.
“This is heaven.” declared a small boy. “We’re spending Christmas at
God’s house.”

When what to their wondering eyes did appear,
But Jesus, their savior, the children gathered near.
He looked at them and smiled, and they smiled just the same.
Then He opened His arms and He called them by name.
And in that moment was joy, that only heaven can bring
Those children all flew into the arms of their King
And as they lingered in the warmth of His embrace,
One small girl turned and looked at Jesus’ face.
And as if He could read all the questions she had
He gently whispered to her, “I’ll take care of mom and dad.”

Then He looked down on earth, the world far below
He saw all of the hurt, the sorrow, and woe
Then He closed His eyes and He outstretched His hand,
“Let My power and presence re-enter this land!”
“May this country be delivered from the hands of fools”
“I’m taking back my nation. I’m taking back my schools!”

Then He and the children stood up without a sound.
“Come now my children, let me show you around.”
Excitement filled the space, some skipped and some ran.
All displaying enthusiasm that only a small child can.
And i heard Him proclaim as He walked out of sight,
“In the midst of this darkness, I AM STILL THE LIGHT.”