Bo's Birthday

Wednesday was my friend Bonnie's son Bo's 5th birthday in Heaven. This is a local friend who started the faith-based infant loss support group I sometimes go to.

It was a sunny (though still cold) January day, and I've been wanting to visit Bo's spot for years, so I made the effort to finally get there. It's only about 20 minutes from where I live. On the way, I stopped to pick up some bright lilies for him, because after all, I only know Bo and Bonnie because of my Lily.

His stone is beautiful, as is the big tree that hovers overhead. It is a gift to remember my friend's babies with them, especially on their birthdays. It was a privilege to stand before this precious boy's grave and to thank God for his life and pray for God to continue giving strength to his family, as they carry on in this life without him.

It means the world to me when people visit Lily's spot, so I'm sure it is special to others as well. I had a precious time with Jesus at Bo's spot, laying out my heart before Him.

This is how I can be pro-life right now... in little moments like this where I can honor a brief but beautiful life.

With Bonnie this past Fall at a local Remembrance Walk

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By the Same Name

Part of why I love Lily Katherine's name as much as I do is because of it's timeless elegance and lovely feminine sound. Not only are her first and middle names both names that would be heard in centuries past, but they are also names from generations past in my own family, making them even more special.

My great-grandmother Bain (my mom's dad's mom) was named Katherine. She was almost 100 when she passed away. I was 10 at the time, which leaves me with several memories of her. Obviously my Lily's middle name is Katherine. I selected it, not primarily because it is a family name, but because it means purity and innocence. However, I love Katherine with a "K," rather than a "C," because that's how my great-grandmother's name is spelled.

After I already named Lily, I found out that Katherine's mother (so my great-great-grandmother and Lily's great-great-great-grandmother!) had the name Lily! Lily had a daughter named Katherine. And all these generations later, came my sweet flower... my Lily Katherine. Both names mean purity and innocence. I wonder if they both knew what their names mean. I wonder why they were given those names.

It makes my heart smile that Lily is connected to the generations of my family through her name. She is just a real as anybody and deserves the most beautiful of names. She is a daughter, a granddaughter, a great-granddaughter, a great-great-granddaughter, and so forth. She holds an irreplaceable part in my family. And it makes me feel connected to the women in my family who share my daughter's name.

Some people live close to 100 years on Earth, while others never take a breath outside the womb, but that doesn't make one life more significant than another. That's what I feel God reminding me of as I struggle with wondering why my relatives before me, Lily and Katherine, were blessed with many more years than my little Lily Katherine. What I keep coming back to is remembering that it is God alone who numbers our days and it's His business whether those days are numbered few or many. Our value is not found in that number. And what God can do through a life is not measured or defined by that number. He works outside of our lines, as I wrote about in a blog post a couple years ago. Not only that, but His love for us is not measured in how many days He gives us on Earth. The fact that my girl has the same name as these women who lived on Earth for many decades is a reminder of how they are equal.

Psalm 139:16 says, "Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in Your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them."

My grandmother "Bumma" recently sent my family this photo of Lily's great-great-great-grandmother, Lily! She is sitting front and center. It's special to have!

Here is a photo of my great-grandmother, Katherine, and I when I was a little girl.

Lily Katherine's name is one of the last and only things I have of her, and I treasure it. Lily is with both Lily and Katherine right now. I wish she could know Bumma and that the two of them could take a photo like this one of me with my great-grandmother. I bet Lily would look a lot like I did in this photo right now.

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The Priceless Treasure of a Photo

You don't have to look far to be bombarded by gory scenes of violence and death. In fact, take a peek online at the movies currently showing at your local theater and you'll see that Americans find entertainment in and are willing to spend large sums of money to watch these things unfold on the big screen. Sadly, even little children are exposed from a young age.

That's why it makes me angry that modern culture no longer finds violence and gore inappropriate or upsetting, yet finds a picture of a beautiful and perfect baby, who is no longer alive, disturbing and grotesque. Can you see the irony here too? How is it more offensive to see a precious child, with darkened lips and closed eyes, than it is to see violent movies or horror films?

Do you realize for a family whose baby was stillborn that those are the ONLY pictures they will EVER have of their beloved child, when they dreamed of a lifetime of photos and memories? Do you realize they love their child just as much as you love yours? And just because their baby was born dead does not mean they aren't proud to be their mother or father and that they don't want to share them with others. Can you not try to grasp for one minute what it would be like if this happened to you?

I have been open with sharing photos of my daughter Lily Katherine, who was stillborn at 40 weeks 2 days gestation on March 16, 2010. Many people remark how perfect and truly beautiful she was. Yet, there have been those through the years who have said some cruel things. She is not some nightmarish freak. Her pictures capture how lovely she was, perfectly formed and real. She isn't scary or disturbing. Yes, I realize that some of the photos show crimson lips... but besides that, she looks like a sleeping child. And if crimson lips are the most disturbing thing ever to you, you have GOT to be KIDDING me.

I have been hurt in the past by the harsh things people have said about Lily/her photos and about the fact that I choose to publicly share them. Why don't they see her the way I do? Should I have been more private with her photos? Should I have protected her memory from those that will only mock it and not recognize her beauty?

NO - I will share, I must share. Because I believe it shows honor to Lily by not being afraid to share her with others. It shows the sanctity of unborn life, even those who don't live outside the womb. They don't magically become babies once they are born alive and healthy. She had eyebrows, eyelashes, fingernails (details that I can only remember through the photos I am beyond grateful to have)... everything that makes a baby look like a baby. Only she was asleep to this world. I want to be brave in sharing her photos and her story so others who have been through something similar feel like they can do the same. A child who was stillborn has beautiful photos, for those of us who were blessed enough to get any. When people are walking through the experience of losing a baby, in the midst of it, many people cannot comprehend how precious those photos will one day become. They think it's morbid to even think about capturing photos of death/the saddest day of their lives.

But as a NILMDTS volunteer photographer, Vicki Zoller, wrote, "We don't photograph death... We capture love." For those who aren't familiar, Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep offers free professional portraiture photography to those who have lost/are expected to lose their precious baby. It is not unusual or unhealthy to desire photos of a stillborn baby or to desire to share those photos.

If there is one regretful wish I hear over and over from other parents I know who lost babies, it is that they wish they had taken more/better pictures... some wish they had taken one single photo. Only those of us who have walked this road understand how valuable those pictures are. They capture a moment in time that we'll never be able to experience again. They capture the very real child we held and love, but unimaginably had to bury.

In the 19th century, post-mortem photography was common. According to the NILMDTS Facebook page, "Post-mortem photography is termed the practice of photographing the recently deceased. This type of photography was very common in the nineteenth century when death occurred in the home. Photography was new and expensive. Childhood mortality rates were extremely high in the Victorian era. It was common practice to make the 'subject' look alive or appear to be sleeping. These photographs served as keepsakes to remember a loved one, and especially with infants and young children, was the only documentation of this child into a family and possibly the only photograph the family ever had. Post-mortem photography flourished in the early decades among those desperate to capture an image of a deceased loved one. It was better to have a photograph, than have no photograph at all."

It is better to have the photographs I have of Lily than to only have my unreliable memory to reference. With photographs, I don't have to question the things my mind could easily forget. I have the assurance that she was truly real when I look at her sweet face in her pictures.

As a society, these photos don't have to be seen as creepy if we don't allow them to be.

Be brave, sweet mothers and fathers of babies who've been lost. There are many of us who feel honored to see photos of your baby. And to those who don't get it and don't want to, please keep your thoughts to yourselves and allow the only photos we'll ever have of our babies to be freely and proudly shared with whomever we wish.

Here is my beautiful and perfect daughter, Lily Katherine....

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A Birthday and an Art Show

Each December, the age Lily would soon be turning weighs on my heart. Thoughts of her coming birthday and would-be age starts around the time my cousin Daniel's son, Owen, turns the same age.

You may remember me talking about them both many times through the years. Daniel and I are boy and girl cousins, born 4 months apart, and Owen and Lily are also boy and girl cousins, born 3 months apart. We both had unplanned pregnancies at the same time in our lives, unbeknownst to each other for several months. Our moms, who are sisters born 1 year apart, both wanted the name "Hannah" before either of them had girls. Well... they were pregnant at the same time, but my mom had me first so she got the name, and of course Daniel ended up being a boy anyways. Well fast forward to when Lily and Owen were in the womb, and Daniel and I both liked the name "Owen" for a boy, without realizing it! Of course Lily was a girl and was always meant to be Lily. What crazy similarities, right??

Also, Luke would have been born just a couple months before Owen... so his birthday is right in between the time both my babies either should have been born or were born.

This year, Owen is 6. This year, he is in Kindergarten and getting to be a big-kid. This year, Lily remains my baby, just like last year and next year too.

I recently shared the painting "Both of Their Hearts," by artist Elizabeth Shanahan, that was inspired by Lily and Luke. Elizabeth was an art student at Appalachian State University (she just graduated) and did her senior honors thesis on the sanctity of life.

Originally, the final product was to be "an exhibition of portraits of people of different ages, appearances, and abilities." The unborn were one part of the project.

However, Elizabeth emailed me and wrote, "My show actually ended up taking a different turn after the first critique. It became clear that babies were the ones I really wanted to focus on, rather than people as a whole, and the pieces I’m going to use for my senior show are a set of three monumental paintings, each with a tiny little figure modeled after eighteen weeks gestational age. I felt so passionately about their portrait, Lily and Luke ended up being the catalysts for an entire body of work."

When I found this out, I was deeply touched. Elizabeth invited me to her show, which fell on December 11th - Owen's 6th birthday. My mom and I were planning on and greatly wanting to go, but unfortunately I was sick that week and just wasn't able to make the trip to the mountains where the university is, which is about 3 1/2 hours from my home. It was disappointing I couldn't make it.

But the fact that it fell on Owen's birthday, on a day that painfully highlights the fact that my Lily isn't here, is special to me. You see, it reminds me that just because Lily and Luke aren't here in the same way Owen is, it doesn't mean they aren't still alive. They are of course in Heaven alive, but also God has reminded me that He's still breathing life into their legacies. And He is doing so apart from me... Even when I'm sick and hundreds of miles away, it doesn't mean He isn't using them and touching hearts because of them. He uses whatever tool He wants. Even after 6 years.

Elizabeth emailed me saying, "The show was great. We had something like 200 people attend, and I got really great reactions to my work. I also passed my thesis defense, so all is good here. :)"

I am glad to hear the show turned out well and congratulations to Elizabeth!

Since I couldn't be there in person, she was so kind as to email me the paintings and said I could share them here with you.

Combustus

Veritās

Humanitās

On another note, a gal who also attended Ellerslie and was in a different Ellerslie semester, read on my blog about the art show and lives close enough that she was interested in going. That was another reason why I wanted to go, to meet a fellow Ellerslie mate. ;) But, because she was wrapping up her semester in college, she didn't end up going anyways. But it was pretty neat that she was wanting to go. :)

Each year, Owen's mommy sends me a birthday sign in honor of Lily on her birthday. I have come to treasure this tradition of seeing Owen and Lily in a photo "together." Each year, he grows bigger and she stays the same. Just missing year 2.

Here is my favorite picture of Daniel and I because Lily was in it. :) It was taken 6 years ago in December, shortly after Owen was born and Lily was growing away.

Daniel and I when we were little... how I wish Owen and Lily were in pictures like this!

Here are Owen, Daniel, and I in the summer of 2010... it was the first time I met 6-month old Owen and would have been the first time 3-month-old Lily would have met him too.

Daniel and I visiting Lily's special spot together.

To see the painting by Elizabeth, read her artist statement for the show, and read more about it all, click HERE.

To read more posts about Owen, click HERE.

You can connect with Elizabeth and check out more of her work here:

(Instagram @elizabeth.shanahan, Twitter @shanahanpaints, and elizabethshanahan.com) 

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Just Do Today

In years past, I have written posts reflecting on the past year and dreaming about the coming year. 2015 was a rich year full of huge leaps in my healing, getting closer to my college degree, and going back to Ellerslie for the Advanced Program, which is something I have wanted to do ever since my Basic Semester in 2011.

This New Year's Eve, as I anticipate 2016, I have been in an interesting place in my heart. To be honest with you, dear reader, I feel more uncertain about my future than ever before. I will be 27 in this coming year and for someone closing in on 30, I can hardly believe how the years have flown by and how little I tangibly have to show for them in the eyes of the world.

In the spring, I am scheduled to graduate with my Bachelor's Degree. It took me a few years to go back to school, but with everything I've been through, I am proud of myself. It has never been about impressing anybody or doing it simply because it's "what people are expected to do" after high-school. In fact, I quite rebelled against college for a while because I didn't feel called to a specific job and didn't want to go and get into debt for no good reason.

Speaking of not feeling called to a specific job or career path, I look around me at my peers and those younger than me and wonder what's wrong with me that I don't have the passion and desire to become a nurse, an accountant, among other respectable careers that make enough money to live a comfortable life. Not to mention I am more of a Writing/English/History kinda gal rather than Math/Science (that's seriously an understatement ha!).

But when it comes down to it, my dream has always been one that's considered old-fashioned these days. I want to be a wife and mother with all my heart. I know some people think that's "wasting my potential," but I've never cared what other people thought. Let them think I am not smart or that I'm not "feminist" enough in my thinking. I know that being a wife and mom is one of the most beautiful things to be entrusted with in all of life.

After Luke and Lily and everything that I experienced, it was as if God awakened my heart to another passion and desire so embedded deep within me. To share my story and the working of Jesus Christ in my life with anyone willing to listen.

For a few years, I was so anticipating the future that I knew God would script for my ministry. I knew He was calling me to be a writer and speaker and that He would open up the doors in His perfect time and way... and He did. I have had the blessing of sharing my story with literally thousands of people.

Then along the way, different things happened that caused me to become disillusioned with the "pro-life movement." Hurtful things. Some things I did nothing to cause and other things caused by me in my immaturity and sinfulness. Things that I know have wounded me that I carry that I need to fully allow Jesus to carry for me. Things that cannot be undone, but must be surrendered and set free. I have grieved realizing the pro-life movement is not what I thought it was and how wrongly I have been treated by those who have the name of Jesus on their lips and a passion for life in their hearts. Don't get me wrong... I of course am still pro-life, but I realize more and more that I don't want to be associated with a particular "movement." As I have said many times, my story just so happens to be pro-life, but even more than that, it is about JESUS. Life matters because of the Author of life!

I have grieved wondering why people seem to dislike me, want to silence me, and why they can't see the beauty in this story God has written for me. I have also grieved the ways I have messed up and wondering if I have completely let the Lord down and ruined His plans for my life and ministry. Though He can't truly be surprised by anything, right? He who knows the end from the beginning. He who created me and my purpose.

There are some situations that seem impossible to be redeemed. But with God, nothing is impossible (Matthew 19:26). That's what He is in the business of doing, after all.

So as I said, I feel called to a life of ministry and being a wife and mom. These things are good desires that honor God. The only problem is, none of them are happening as I expected. I am single and my only children are in Heaven. I do speak and write and have opportunities to share, but it's certainly not full-time, as I thought and dreamed it'd be.

Life is just not happening as I thought it would. I am clinging ever so tightly to my faithful Heavenly Father in the uncertainty of an unknown future and unanswered questions and prayers. When nothing feels like it's happening, I am choosing to trust that He is working behind-the-scenes for what's to come. I am praying that 2016 brings fresh hope when it feels like my life is in a constant waiting room, stuck between the missing and the longing, as I recently shared. I am entrusting my past sins, mistakes, failures, hopes, and dreams to Him. I trust that He is working all things together for good as He promises to do (Romans 8:28). May my weakness and inability only highlight and point to His strength and ability and how He delights in impossibility.

A friend of mine named Tina recently wrote me an email and encouraged me in my singleness. She told me to not allow Satan to get me all knotted up and to "just do today." Those three words I have been carrying close to my heart. Tomorrow is not guaranteed and Scripture tells us to not fret over tomorrow (Matthew 6:34). May I trust Him today in my singleness. He has called me to be single today and His grace is sufficient.

I realized that I want to do something "BIG" for God... world-altering Kingdom work... But isn't that in itself prideful and selfish?! Deep down, I want to feel important in the eyes of this world (even if it's Christians) and special to God, like He'll love me more or less, dependent upon what I accomplish for Him.

"Just do today" applies to ministry as well. I don't need to see His plan for the coming year after I graduate, for 5 years from now, 10, or 20. May I focus on what He is asking me to do today. Even if I ever only serve Him again in small, unnoticed, and unapplauded ways, may I surrender everything, even my dreams that are good.

What can I do today?

I can give a comfort box to a local family whose baby boy isn't expected to survive outside the womb.

I can write faithfully on my own little space on the internet for a hurting heart somewhere in the world, though they may never even write a single comment, yet I know they are reading and parts of them are being healed because someone else is willing to openly share that has been where they are or have been.

I can email the young woman who my heart aches for because she reminds me of myself and how I struggled in similar ways as a teen because of my wrong choices.

I can volunteer at a pregnancy center.

I can remember my friend's baby who was regretfully aborted... my other friend's baby who was lost before birth... I can acknowledge their baby's life, their love for their baby, and their grief.

I can thank God for the opportunity and ability to do anything in His name and for the realization that each life is worth all the pouring into I can give. It is not about reaching thousands of people outside of God's will, but reaching few, if it's inside of His will. Because ultimately, I will make more of an impact when I surrender and follow His will, rather than my own... even if the "numbers" of impact don't line up.

If He never opens another door again for me to speak, am I okay with that? Do I trust it's up to Him in the first place to do so and that He'll lead me? I wouldn't want to share outside of His will for me to do so. Even if I question what He's doing and why He's not using me as I thought He would.

This all reminds me of something I shared on my blog this summer: "My satisfaction and fulfillment cannot and will not come from anything or anyone outside of Him, even dreams that were put in my heart by Him in the first place. If He asks me to entirely surrender them, I have to be willing. I have to always hold them out with open hands because it is He who has written this story, He who holds this story, He who has opened the doors for me to share it. He can close the doors anytime He sees fit too. And I must be ready to be obedient and glad in my obedience... I must recognize that my status as a mother does not change even if things were to become more quiet and private, even if I never shared another time publicly. I do believe God has much more for me to do in sharing my story, but if He were to ask me right now to lay it down, I honestly know that I would have a hard time letting go. Because maybe I do see some of my status as a mother in what I do for Lily and Luke. But me being a mother does not change depending upon what I do or don't do, just as it does not change just because my children are not growing up on Earth. And the significance of Lily and Luke's lives is not measured in how many people hear their story. Not only does my status as a mother not change depending on what I do, but neither does my status as a Christian. My value and worth to God is not found in what I do for Him. He doesn't love me more or less whether or not I've spoken a certain number of times in a year. He loves me, regardless of how I view my own "performance" as a Christian serving Him."

As I look forward with joyful expectancy to the new year, I am remembering that my identity is not to be tied up in my dreams and hopes for the future. To sum it up, this life is about Him, not me... not my dreams for ministry, not my desire for being a wife and mom.

It is not a scary thing to be in His perfect will, but the safest place. He will open doors for me to share. And if not, He will show me what job to pursue. He will give me just what I need, the moment I need it... whether that be good health to work (I haven't shared much about my health struggles on this blog, but perhaps I will soon)... or direction for a job... or opportunities to speak. Whatever it is, He's got it. And oh, what a beautiful gift it is to be ALIVE!

As I continue waiting, I will remember that obedience is not wasted. Surrender is not for nothing. I am going to "just do today."

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When Lily Went to Philly

On Saturday night, I watched a few minutes of the Philadelphia Eagles vs. the Washington Redskins football game on TV (my brother Joseph's favorite team is the Eagles and my brother Adam's favorite team is the Redskins. Otherwise, I wouldn't care haha).

Anyways, the game was in Philadelphia, which brought back memories of when Lily went to Philly at this very time of year 6 years ago. I was right at 29 weeks pregnant at the time.

Then, yesterday I saw these two things on Facebook "Memories" that I posted on that date in 2009:

My mom, brothers, sister, Lily and I were together on this fun and memorable trip. We walked around downtown, got hot beverages at charming local coffee shops, explored historic/touristy destinations, tried the famous Philly cheesesteak sub, and stayed at the oldest hotel in the city. My mom and brothers went to an Eagle's football game. 

I kept having contractions and we joked that "Lily wanted to be born in Philly." My belly was getting a lot bigger, to the point of not being able to button up my coat all the way, as you can see in the photo above. That makes me giggle. :) Lily was growing big and strong!

One of the first posts on this blog of mine was something I wrote when we were in Philadelphia - City of Brotherly Love. I talked about wanting to treasure the time with my family, especially my sister, who was growing up so fast... little did I know that I was living some of the only days with my daughter that I'd ever get. It never could have crossed my mind. I am so thankful my girl had lots of adventures during her time on Earth with her adoring family.

Here are some of my favorite photos from that trip...

I have several pages in Lily's scrapbook from our Philly trip. Excuse the bad-lighting photos with glaring (from the page protectors). I'll explain more about them when I eventually (hopefully sooner rather than later) share my entire scrapbook for Lily.

Oh, those little socks... we got them at the Betsy Ross House for our Lily girl. Now they will remain in a scrapbook, never having been worn by her. But they are so very precious to me as they were bought specifically for her... when she was still here.

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Christmas Is Proof Light Wins

The following is something I wrote on Christmas:

I walked into my kitchen tonight to get a glass of water. The lamps were off, but the light from the moon was noticeably bright.

 Peeking out the window, my eyes squinted because of the brightness of the beautifully round and full moon. Finding my phone, I looked online and discovered there is a full moon on this Christmas night, for the first time in 4 decades, the first time since I've been alive. The fact that I could see the moon at all with how cloudy and rainy it's been lately is incredible.

All day I've been in such pain missing my daughter. As I stepped out on my back deck to see it more fully, it was as if God whispered these words to my heart... "I am brighter than any dark night of your soul." And the peace and hope I've been searching for flooded through my entire being in that moment.

Christmas is a reminder that darkness does not win. And the same God who is so awesome and powerfully HUGE that He created the moon I'm gazing upon, still nearly too bright for my eyes to look into directly, even all these thousands of miles away... that same God is not too big to cradle my tiny daughter and my heart. I love her with all I am. But He loves her more. Christmas is proof.

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