We went to the NICU in South Bend today to visit the nurses and bring them some goodies. Before leaving I wasn't sure if I would feel up to actually going inside and told Rusty, dad, and mom that I might just wait in the car. The drive to Memorial Hospital brought back so many memories of the weeks and days before Olive died, and lots of tears.
I think my biggest fear was thinking that I would have an overwhelming urge to go to the room where Olive stayed and to see another baby in her place.
Upon arriving I decided to go in, and in the end was thankful I did. I also decided not to go into the room Olive stayed in...it all just felt too raw.
A few of the nurses we had gotten close to were working and we were able to spend some time talking with them, and thanked them for the ways they had cared for Olive with such love. We thanked Annie (Olive's primary nurse) for coming in to work last minute on the night Olive was dying. She took such good care of Olive. The night Olive died, even after her passing, Annie continued talking sweetly to her as she made molds of her little hands. Annie has a brother with cerebral palsy and one thing I always appreciated was how she never gave me false hope. I would sometimes ask her about her brother and get so excited to hear how well he was doing. Annie always reminded me that I can't expect Olive's story to be the same as his, and that each story is unique. As much as I wanted that false reassurance, another part of me was grateful for how carefully she was trying to protect us..mostly from ourselves.
One thing Olive wasn't lacking in her short little life was love...not only from us and our friends and family, but also from the nurses in both Thailand and the States who cared for her each day. The love and care they have shown us since her passing through e-mails, letters, phone calls, and skype sessions has meant more than they realize.
On a side note, we started grief counseling this week. I think this will be an important step in preparing to return to Thailand, and will help us sort through some of our personal baggage. A lot of the baggage I am carrying with me is still related to Olive's premature birth and the guilt surrounding that. The last months have also affected my spiritual life as well. I've never walked through a period of time when God has felt more silent or when I have struggled so much with the worth of my prayers...wondering if He has been hearing them.
I'm not asking for easy answers. I know God is still there...somewhere. And I am resting in the comfort that He is now caring for Olive, and that one day I will get to see her there in Heaven. I am just completely confused as to why the journey had to be so bumpy, and why Olive had to get almost every possible complication in the book. Why she had to suffer so much along the way.
This morning a women told me, "Time will heal, I promise." Part of me hopes it won't. When you lose someone that you love so deeply, there is something comforting about the pain you feel when your heart is ripped apart. The pain you are left with makes it all feel more like reality that they were really here. That that they really existed...and that it wasn't just a dream.
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Tears streaming as I think of how hard it must have been to face the NICU after Olive's passing.
In my humble opinion, grief counselling is an effective choice that should help. All the tools that you can be given will help.
For me, the pain & tears made my grief and fears explainable--- a mother who was grieving her babies, afraid to conceive again.... afraid of the future. When others expected that time had already healed my wounds a few months later, my pain felt ignored, my fears not understood and my anguish felt dismissed--- when I KNEW I was missing the babies that God had made and I had experienced already.
Even though I had miscarriages, I already had happy memories with their creation-- discovering the pregnancy, sharing the joy of the news with husband, family & friends, the signs of them growing, the milestones I expected certain months and my joy in planning for those. It felt as though "time healing" meant that all of that would become, well, nothing to me... that none of those would matter, but they do and always will.
Time won't erase Olive's significance in your life, or how much you loved her or how much she was worth to you. Time won't take away that you miss her. But.... and like you say, everyone is different....time may help take a bit of the jagged, raw edge off of the pain for intervals that are a bit longer as time marches on. I don't think that saying is true, anyway... when we lose someone we love, we miss them, period.
May God hold your hand in His as you strive to understand him..... For me, the book of Job is a helpful place to read when I am struggling.
marilyn
thanks for continuing to be so open with your hearts in this process. we're heartbroken with you.
we love you guys and we miss you. get healing, take the time you need and we'll see you whenever you're patched up enough to be out here.
if there is anything we can do for you from here, please, please don't hesitate to ask.
I don't think the adage "Time heals all wounds" applies to losing a child. The pain dulls a little around the edges but it will still be very sharp at times. It is still hard for me to watch people mistreat their children and take them for granted if I go into a store somewhere because they don't realize what a miracle each child is. I'm glad you decided to try counseling, I know it helped me to cope and to sort out some feelings. I love you guys!
This post brought lots of tears. Although I have not experienced the same type of loss that you have, I too have found myself wondering where God is and why He would choose to be so silent when my pain was so overwhelming. My dad left when I was very young, and to this day, I still cry over the loss of that relationship. Time certainly does not heal our wounds, but God does. However, it such a difficult process to work through with Him, especially when He seems to offer no clear answers to our suffering. I am praying that God brings relief to your hearts, healing to your wounds, and answers to your questions, but I also pray that He keeps Olive ever close to your heart and that memories of her never fade.
I too have many tears after reading your eloquent post. It's hard to walk through the valley and have God be silent, very hard. However, keep walking in the valley, keep having faith, because something wonderful is awaiting you when you pass through the Valley and Jesus is right there with open arms, waiting to hug you!!
Marti B.
Grand Rapids, Michigan
I don't know why this road has been so bumpy. But one thing I am certain of; when you can't find the words to prayer or feel like God is far away, there are MANY, many people interceding for you. I for one will continue to pray for you. I hope time doesn't "heal" this wound. My prayer is that the wound becomes less raw and constant for you. Nothing will dull Olive's memory especially while you have all of us around to understand how far her little life reached to touch so many people. Love to you both.
It breaks my heart to read this. If every parent loved his child even just a fraction of the way you have loved, and still love, Olive, this would be a completely different world. God is silent to you right now and for that my heart is heavy. But, Lynette, I hear Him so clearly through your words. You are someone I admire so very much. Your outlook on life, despite the crushing tragedies continues to be one of hope, faith, and love. Not in a "Jesus is the answer" kind of way, but in a real, raw and honest way. I am amazed at your greatfulness for the nurses and the love you show them. I don't know how you can have such a deep love for others Lynette, except to say it comes from God. I pray He pours that on you and you feel it and hear it in ways you never have before.
Praying for you during this time. I know that for our family and the losses we've experienced we don't believe in the "time will heal" advice. Some days can be just as painful as the first time it happened. Time can make it easier to bear but you will always have the loss. My sister lost a 4 month old almost 6 years ago and to this day whenever someone asks how many kids she has, she struggles. She doesn't want to leave him out, he is one of hers but she also doesn't want to go into that pain with everyone she meets. I can imagine you will have similar struggles. I know the agony of not wanting to hurt so much but not wanting it to go because you don't want to "loose" them again. I know my in-laws still struggle daily with the loss of the their 25 year old almost 8 years ago. She is your daughter and always will be. The pain will change, different for you than for others but I know the counseling will help you cope and come to a new place in your walk with the Lord. Praying for you as you learn to live again.
Wow, you guys are amazing! I completely agree with Clayre - I too see Jesus through your life & in your posts. We are praying for you.
This song came to mind immediately:
O the Deep Deep Love of Jesus
O the deep, deep love of Jesus, vast, unmeasured, boundless, free!
Rolling as a mighty ocean in its fullness over me!
Underneath me, all around me, is the current of Thy love
Leading onward, leading homeward to Thy glorious rest above!
O the deep, deep love of Jesus, spread His praise from shore to shore!
How He loveth, ever loveth, changeth never, nevermore!
How He watches o’er His loved ones, died to call them all His own;
How for them He intercedeth, watcheth o’er them from the throne!
O the deep, deep love of Jesus, love of every love the best!
’Tis an ocean full of blessing, ’tis a haven giving rest!
O the deep, deep love of Jesus, ’tis a heaven of heavens to me;
And it lifts me up to glory, for it lifts me up to Thee!
Tears flowed as I read your post. Lynette and Rusty will alway remember Olive, she brought you great joy, even through the rough journey you walked with her, cradle those memories as you cradled her in your arms. I am praying for you daily.
I know what you mean. I think about my loss constantly, reliving every second so that I won't forget.
Today was the first sunny day we've had for a while in Indiana and I though to myself that I just wish the sun wasn't out, I like the cold dreary days that match the feelings in my heart.
"There's a statue of Jesus / On a monastery knoll / In the hills of Kentucky / All quiet and cold
And He's kneeling in the garden / Silent as a stone / All His friends are sleeping / And He's weeping all alone
And the man of all sorrows / He never forgot / What sorrows are carried / By the hearts that He bought
So when the questions dissolve / Into the silence of God / The aching may remain / But the breaking does not / The aching may remain / But the breaking does not / In the holy, lonesome echo / Of the silence of God" --Andy Peterson, "The Silence of God"
I've been praying for your family, and will continue to do so. Jesus knows your grief, and He shares in it with you.
Time does heal wounds...but the scar remains. The initial bleeding and pain and tenderness/sensitivity will lessen with time....but the scar will always be there. You will not forget the wound. The scar will remind you.
I'm very proud of you for visiting the NICU and for being thankful towards the nurses during a time of personal struggle for yourself. When I am feeling especially low in my own life, I buy a pkg of "thank you" notes and write/mail them out to people in my life for whom I am thankful. They are surprised by the gratitude mail, and I always feel a bit better when I finish with the cards. Guess it is a way for me to "count my blessings". Maybe that could be a way for you to heal a bit too since you are so good at expressing yourself in words, and you've said that writing things down helps you process your thoughts and feelings.
Know that you continue to be in our prayers. -Jenn/Snowflower in GR, MI
I've said it before, I'll say it again . . . I love you guys so much it hurts!
Thanks for sharing some of your thoughts with this journey of deep grief that you are on. I believe there are many questions surrounding tragedies like this, for which we will never have "all the answers" this side of heaven. And yes, sometimes in the middle of experiences like yours, God can feel SILENT, and we wonder if our sincere prayers are "doing any good". Yet, I do believe that personal FAITH is being deepened in ways we cannot always SEE, and I also believe that God loves us more than we can FEEL, and weeps with us, in our times of grief. During times like this other people's prayers help CARRY us. God bless you,
Gloria
Thank you for sharing your thoughts and emotions Lynette. I am happy to hear you are going thru grief counseling. I have attending a group entitled 'Griefshare'. It is taught in churches - it is a video and workbook series. I highly recommend it. www.griefshare.org
One more thought...give yourself permission to heal. It does not mean you will ever, ever forget precious Olive.
You mentioned how God feels so distant - I can relate to that feeling. Long story short - after much soul-searching and prayer, I came to the conclusion that God was asking me to remain faithful - to remain faithful in (what appears to me to be) the silence.
Grief can give cause us to feel so isolated from God. I am learning that in my pain and grief I am choosing to trust Him - choosing to believe that He will uphold me thru my grief - and - learning to allow God to reshape my perspective of who He is. By focusing on who He is - it isn't changing my circumstances, but I am finding it changes my attitude.
Crisis reveals character....and I am SO impressd with your character. Faith means something when it's exercised in the darkness.
I will continue to pray as you walk this difficult journey.
When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
when sorrows like sea billows roll;
whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well with my soul.
Refrain:
It is well with my soul,
it is well, it is well with my soul.
Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
let this blest assurance control,
that Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
and hath shed his own blood for my soul.
(Refrain)
My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!
(Refrain)
And, Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
the clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
the trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
even so, it is well with my soul.
(Refrain)
The writer of this hymn, Horatio Spafford, wrote this after the Great Fire of Chicago ruined him financially, and then his four daughters all died after their ship collided with another. I hope these words written in his tragedy will bring you some comfort as well.
praying for you, sweetest ones. loving you to Jesus, moment by moment...xo
Aching for your hurt, Lynette...I feel so bereft of words. Love you very much.
Keeping you in my thoughts...
Thank you for your honesty and vulnerability. We continue to pray for you, your husband and family. Olive was such a little sweetie who touched so many hearts.
for those days you can't find the words to pray...please know that so many others are praying for you both.
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