Shadow

According to dictionary.com, there are 15 definitions for the word shadow, as least as a noun.  In my head for quite a while, I've considered Meredith my shadow. Lately, I've spoken it out loud. If you know me well though, you know I don't like when things are incorrect. I like to be correct- now there's a set up for failure!

I thought my way around this whole shadow thing...she's always with me-like a shadow! Sounds great! But then my need to be correct kicks in..."well, only if the sun is shining", and "what if the sun is hitting me from the wrong direction?", and "what if there is a building in the way" and "what if on the second Tuesday of the 6th month while I'm standing on my head in the center of Tiananmen Square talking to Prince William.." You get the picture. 

Hence the trip to dictionary.com (no frequent flyer miles unfortunately). I began to read, growing in disappointment until #14: an inseparable companion. Ah. There it is. Relief. She is my shadow. 

You may or may not be able to understand fully. But, if you are a parent, a mom, you know that once your heart has loved a little one- whether born from your tummy or chosen by your heart- the heart can never go back to the way it was before.

18 months after her death, she remains my inseparable companion. And I wouldn't want it any other way. 

"Keep me as the apple of your eye; hide me in the shadow of your wings."
 Psalm 17:8

Living in the "and"

Where is this strange place, between two worlds. A world, where two potentially opposing realities exist at the same time. Of the many sweet, loving, kind, encouraging and gracious messages I received on Meredith's birthday, one kept jumping up at me and hitting me b/w the eyes. These were words about how great it is that Meredith gets to spend her birthday with Jesus.

Heres' what goes on in my head:

Well, yes it is. That IS great for Meredith!

But, it doesn't feel great to me. I want her here eating cake (a much nicer one by the way, than the simple heart shaped one I busted out on her birthday. It was the best I could do though...ever make a cake while sobbing? Not recommended!).

Well, that's selfish. Every mom should want her little one to be where there is no pain or tears or bad stuff.

I do want it...and I don't.

It's the and.

Heaven is a great place, a perfect place and I'm certain Meredith is perfectly happy there.

and

I want her here. With me.

Oh! But give me something to ponder and look out. There's more.

Throughout this past year, I have seen how rock solid my faith is

and

how much my faith has been rocked as I try to make sense of something that just doesn't.

 Thank God for Mark 9:24b, "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!" 

I laugh and joke and smile and enjoy

and

I feel so terribly sad.

I look around a new and pretty cool family room

and

remember how it was financed.

I'm fine
and
I'm not

Never before have I felt so much desire to be in heaven, to be with Meredith and away from all the heartache

and

my desire is equal to be here on earth, enjoying Joel- not wanting him to have the pain of losing his mommy.

everything is the same

and

everything is different.

Between two worlds. Living in the and.

Fortunately, I'm not left there alone. Relief, both in heart and mind, are slow in coming. I do believe the promise though that my God is with me always (Matthew 28:20).

I had intended posting on Meredith's birthday, but I just couldn't. Hard enough making the cake! I spoke much to her that day. I spoke quite a bit to God. I know I will see Meredith again some day.

It's the waiting that's hard.

Much love

W

"Meredith is not forgotten!"

I haven't been here in a while. I haven't had anything new to say. I've thought about writing, but it would be more of the same. Life in my head is stuck. Stuck on October 10. In my minds eye, the calendar is colorless after October 10th. Dull. Gray. I know that things have changed, that life has gone on. I see it. Joel is completing his kindergarten year. He's taller. He now reads so well. He's obsessed with Star Wars-never saw that coming! I went to Haiti. We are adding onto our family room and I'm in the midst of choosing paint and carpeting, etc. We've gone from Fall, to Winter, to Spring and now summer. The world has moved. My world has moved. I've gone along with it. But my mind hasn't.

It's gotten harder lately. I remember so vividly last summer, our camping and vacations. My discomfort as my tummy grew. My hurt that Meredith had Down syndrome. The conflict in my heart as she moved within me. Oh, how I wish I could go back to that conflict! The fact that she had DS was the biggest deal to me then. So minor now. The run up to our anniversaries is coming- her birth and her death. My anticipation of that is growing.

There are so many times I sit awestruck by the fact that my child died. And, in such a horrible way. Really? That happened to me? It's not just a Lifetime movie? I am often blown away by the fact that it took 5 people to kill her. 5 different people doing their jobs incorrectly. It only took one of these 5 to do his/her job right, and Meredith would be with us. What an extraordinary event. 5 people. So hard to grasp.

So much has changed. Some friends are no longer integral to my life. I spend a lot of time wondering why. Do they think it's contagious or are afraid? Was it more convenient, easy before? Or, was I really the one keeping it going and now, I don't have the energy or motivation.

I'm stuck. On  Sunday, Joel said, "It's not fair. Why do others get to keep their babies but not us?!" I can't even count the times I've thought that very same thing. This is my trouble with God. Our Pastor, in every interaction says he is praying for me only the gifts that God can give...His grace, mercy, peace and hope. I know his gifts are around me, but I've been resistant to seeing them. I want her. That's the gift I want.  I don't want to see the other gifts because they aren't what I really want.

I was thinking over the last couple days about how I never wanted Meredith to be forgotten, how I wished others knew her like I do, and that others got to meet her. I didn't know everything about her, but I knew her. I still remember so clearly those beautiful eyes looking right into mine. I remember the aha moment when I was beginning to recognize her sleepy cry. Some people got to meet Meredith, but not many.

And then this today. A note. Sent from a sister of a friend. Telling me that they continue to pray for us and that Meredith is not forgotten! I don't think I've ever met her, but today this note is delivered by our letter carrier. A kind gesture on her part is exactly what I needed. I'm guessing she didn't know...but God does. I know this to be his grace to me. Exactly what  I needed when I needed it the most.

And so I open my mind and allow recollection of God's grace to me. Friends who call me and check in. A few people who were more peripheral before, now much more present. People who ask me about Meredith and invite me to talk about her, ask questions...not just waiting for me to bring her up.

So, I ask for prayers. For my willingness to put down the walls and open up to seeing, really seeing, each and every day, God's grace and mercy, bringing me hope and peace. In that way, feel unmistakably, his love for me. This is as necessary as breathing.

Thanks for listening!

Mother's Day

I've never been a big fan of Mother's Day.

There are quite a few reasons, but mostly because I don't see the point in being honored for something that is my job. A job that I asked for- actually prayed about for years. I could go on and on about it, but the bottom line is, I hope and pray to be a mom that Joel honors throughout the year because he wants to...not just on one day designated on a calendar. These are not new thoughts on Mothers Day. They have been my thoughts long before I became a mother.

And yet...no matter what I wrote above...it truly is a day I look forwad to.

Because it means that I am a mom. And, I love being a mom! It is the greatest job I've ever had.

And this year...it hurts.

Joel was so cute this morning. He said he put his tie on this morning so that he could look handsome for me today! And he did!  He had a couple gifts for me in his backpack and I was told clearly not to go into one compartment in his backpack on Friday. As curious as I was...I didn't. The wait was so worth it! He made a book about me that was so sweet, it brought tears to my eyes. I was surprised to learn, as I'm sure you will be too, that I weigh 30 lbs and am 20 feet tall!

Joel is such a joy and I am so grateful for him.

At the same time, I miss sweet Meredith. I miss her warmth and all the wonder a mom experiences watching a little one grow and develop. What would she be doing now? What personality characteristics would be shining through? What would her laugh sound like?

Mother's Day at church is something I was not up for today. In the past few years, they've toned it down a bit, which I like. At the same time, I'm just not in a place today for all the smiles about how great Mother's Day is. It is truly a bittersweet day for me.

My birthday was yesterday, and it was a good day. Time with friends and with Merwyn. I asked Merwyn to buy a necklace created for mom's whose little ones had died.

Meredith is in heaven with Jesus. She is loved more than I could ever love her. She has no more tears, or pain or difficulty. It is good for her.

I just miss her.

April 28, 2009

I'm just remembering one year ago today...our 20 week ultrasound revealed a hole in baby's heart- an AVSD, very common in little ones with Down syndrome. It was a tough day, and the next when we had our amniocentesis. It was confirmed on 4/29 that we had a little girl, and the Down syndrome confirmed on 4/30.

My only regret, beyond wishing I'd taken Meredith to Children's rather than you know where on 10/9, was that I allowed her diagnosis to affect my enjoyment of my pregnancy and my joy for the next 5 months. I prayed that these feelings would disappear once she was born and I thank God that they did. I so enjoyed and loved my little girl for those 24 days. A bit of heaven on earth.

Raspberry bushes

Thursday I was in the ophthalmologist's waiting room with Joel. He was playing with his Lego's. I was...I don't know where. Out of my reverie I hear Joel's voice say, "Why do you have that sad look on your face?" I was surprised...I didn't realize. I don't even remember what in particular I was thinking about actually, or why my face looked sad. I told him, "I guess I'm thinking some sad thoughts, Joel". That satisfied him, amazingly.

In no way do I expect this grief process to end quickly, certainly not anytime soon. A benefit of my work is that I know it can, and likely will be, a long process that will permeate every aspect of my life for quite a while. Living it though, is a different experience.

Yesterday, we began to take our raspberry bushes out. We're having work done on our family room and "demo" begins tomorrow. I bought two ceramic pots to put some bushes in. Two neighbors took a few. We'd only removed about half and were leaving the rest to be destroyed.

Last night, this morning, throughout today, I kept thinking about those remaining bushes. Perfectly good bushes. It just seemed wrong.

We had a particularly long day at church today, but afterwards, I told Merwyn that I couldn't just let those bushes die. We went out, found another pot and dug out some more. I made a phone call and had someone else coming over to get some to take home.

They're just bushes, aren't they?

This is living with grief. With loss. Not wanting anything ELSE to die unnecessarily. I kept telling myself they were just bushes. More would grow. I couldn't convince myself not to do something about it though. Not after losing her.

It surprises me how very much Meredith is on my mind. Remembering time with her. Remembering our hopes and dreams for her. Processing and questioning our loss of her. There are lots of questions. All with no answers. My thoughts take me to warm places and cold/hard places. Places that show the cracks in my faith. Places where my vulnerabilities are apparent.

Cracks and vulnerabilities. Processing grief, or trauma or anything really that causes pain, strips away facades or masks that we take on as we go through life. Ways of making life work. That perhaps really don't.

There is someone out there though who takes advantage of these times. Someone who prowls around, looking for someone to devour. He enjoys vulnerabilities.

Someone who is the father of liars. He takes our hurts and questions, our doubts and capitalizes on them. He is a tempter who leads our minds to the places of his dark world.

We should all expect him. We shouldn't tolerate him though. I will not tolerate him.

This Thursday, I begin "healing prayer" with someone seasoned in doing this battle. I begin with one simple statement, "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!" (Mark 9:24b).

On the other side is freedom. Perhaps redemption. Meredith can't come back. I will see her again. In the meantime I remain here on earth. I'd go to her now. Joel keeps me wanting to be here. Losing mommy is tough on a kiddo.

This is what I know: "You dear children, are from God and have overcome them, because the one that is in you is greater than the one who is in the world." (1John 4:4) and "I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." (John 16:33).

This is not my battle. It is the Lord's. He never leaves me. Even when it feels like he has. Feeling is not reality. "You will not have to fight this battle. Take up your positions; stand firm and see the deliverance the Lord will give you, O Judah and Jerusalem. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Go out to face them tomorrow, and the Lord will be with you." (2 Chronicles 20:17).

Truth is, I am not afraid.

And, I'd appreciate your prayers.

Wendy

Offered Grace

"Make every effort to live in peace with all men and to be holy; without holiness no one will see the Lord. See to it that no one misses the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many."  Hebrews 12:14-15

What follows is my letter to the doctor who wrote Meredith's prescription wrong. It is going out into the mail today. Names have been removed. Please pray for God's purposes for her as she reads it.


Dr. _________,

You and I have never met. Perhaps you were in the clump of doctors and nurses that I saw pass by my daughters room in G-pod the morning of October 10th. I do know that your name and signature are all over my daughter’s medical record. I am Wendy Essenburg, Meredith Essenburg's mom.

Meredith was our miracle. All babies are miracles, but our story in particular needed a miracle. In January of 2009, we discovered we were pregnant. With tempered joy, we prayed that this pregnancy would be carried to full term. You see, since my son's birth in March of 2004, we have had 4 miscarriages. Further, 4 fertility treatments were attempted and failed. We even walked down the adoption road twice, but didn't feel the Lord's open door. In the fall of 2008, we were working hard on letting go of our dream of a second child to love. The missing piece to our family.

We hadn't had a pregnancy since March of 2007, so this pregnancy in January 09, without any medical intervention to a 43 year old woman, was a miracle to us. We told a few others, to have a prayer team. Another miracle- on March 6th, we heard a heartbeat...this pregnancy was viable! With great joy on our son's birthday, March 7th, we told our family assembled for his birthday party.

Our ultrasound on April 28th revealed a heart defect common in kiddo's with Down syndrome and the next day DS was confirmed via amniocentesis. Hard news to take. Every parent wants their little one to be 100% healthy. At the same time, we knew that this baby, now known to be a girl, was created perfectly by our Father in Heaven. We knew, as it says in Psalm 139, that she was knit by God in my womb. We praised God because she was fearfully and wonderfully made. God does not make mistakes. Even when we felt saddened by her diagnosis, we knew that God had an awesome plan for Meredith and for us as her parents. We knew without a doubt that God would use Meredith to advance his Kingdom and that is what carried us the next 5 months.

On September 16, Meredith was born. In a hurry to arrive, she was born in triage and taken immediately to the NICU at (first hospital), due to her need for oxygen. Approximately 3 hours later I was able to see her for the first time. When I looked at Meredith's precious face, so much like her brothers face when he was born, all angst, anger and bad feelings about her DS disappeared. It is what I had prayed for and know, because I know the condition of my heart, that only the Lord could have accomplished this miracle in my heart. I loved her instantly, unconditionally and passionately. Just as she deserved.

While I went home without her, Meredith was never, ever out of my thoughts. We did whatever the doctors and nurses at (first hospital) told us to do. I came to the hospital 2x a day to be with her and perform what care I could. We tried many different suggested ways to feed Meredith through her sleepiness. I talked several times with the lactation consultants there. We learned to tube feed. I learned to insert a feeding tube. All we wanted was to bring our sweet girl home. What a joy the day we did…and what sadness 2 days later when she had to return, but this time to (second hospital). The trauma and drama of that Friday was forgotten the next day, Saturday October 10th, when I spent an amazing 6.5 hours with Meredith. She ate, 100% from a bottle. Her fever was down. She was more comfortable. We napped together. I left her room at 4:35pm so excited that Meredith was improving. So warm from our special day together, looking forward to doing the same thing the next day. At about 7pm that evening, just 2.5 hours after I left Meredith, we were called back to the hospital after being told on the phone that "your daughter is in critical condition".

After 24 days of life, Meredith was dead. If I had known that there was danger at (second hospital), I would not have taken her there. If I had known that blind faith in the medical community was unwarranted, I would have been much more active and involved in Meredith's care. If I had known… But God knew. And God allowed you, Dr. ________, to write the prescription incorrectly, and the pharmacist and three nurses to bypass what I have been told is standard protocol, resulting in the administration of three Digoxin overdoses. I don't know why. God's ways are not our ways.

I do know that the miracles of Meredith however, did not end when she died, because, God has placed in my heart forgiveness. I know this is a miracle because I know the condition of my heart. Despite this condition, God has filled me with forgiveness and compassion for you, Dr. ________. I consider it a gift to me as well, since grieving is hard enough without the additional burden of bitterness and anger. I don't know if you want this forgiveness, but here it is regardless. I don't know the condition of your heart, but I do know that I would want it if I was in your position.

It is a great irony to me that the day I came home from the hospital after Meredith was born- she remained at the (first hospital) NICU- I read an article in my Good Housekeeping magazine about Sorrel King whose daughter Josie died at Johns Hopkins, due to medical error. I thought at the time that it was a very sad story, but in no way became alarmed or thought that it had any relevance for me. A short 22 days later, my vantage point was different. "Josie's Story", written by Sorrel King, is a book I highly recommend any medical professional read (www.josieking.org), and it's a recommendation I make to you.

October 10th, the day Meredith died, was 6 months ago today. Meredith is ever on my mind. I think about the time I spent with her. I think about the future we thought we had with her. I think about the events the night of her death, and the subsequent revelations of why she died. Our hurts and struggles will last quite a while…a testimony to the fact that she died, as well as how very much we loved her.

You have taken on a job that requires much knowledge, skill and expertise. We, as the general public, place a great deal of faith in doctors and the medical profession. It is a sacred trust when a parent hands her child over. Clearly no one in the medical profession intends to harm their patients, especially a helpless and sick baby. I imagine, Dr. _______, that you have been greatly impacted by Meredith's death. I hope that you are receiving support through this and pray that this serves to propel and compel you towards excellence in caring for the physical well-being of the children with whom you work.

I pray, Dr. ________, that you never, ever, forget our Meredith Rose, and I pray the grace, mercy and peace of Jesus be with you.

Wendy Essenburg, Meredith's mommy