Writing Processes – 2014 Blog Hop

My thanks to Brooke Williams for inviting me to join this blog hop!! She definitely has a passion for writing ... it shows throughout the pages of her books!



What am I working on right now?

I am currently working on a children's book. I have made the decision to keep the title to myself until it is finished. My hope is that it will help in viewing the world a little differently ... with hope.



How does my work differ from others of its genre?

I don't think that my work differs much from others of the same genre. I write with biblical truth. It's either black, or white - never in the middle.



Why do I write what I do?

I write about subjects that tend to be hidden within the heart. Whether it's a feeling that is too difficult to put into words, or a subject that can be written in a way that makes one look at life differently, my hope is that it helps to promote a little more compassion for those who live daily with a wounded heart. I like to get the readers attention by sharing my heart in a "raw" manner. I want to capture the readers heart and bring them into my world. I've been told that I wear my heart on my sleeve. There's a whole lot of heart - I just mentioned it five times while answering that question!



How does my writing process work?

My writing process has always been the same ... I write it out in my head first. I envision what I want to capture in the story and what I want the reader to feel. For months, I write down notes/ideas that fill my head/heart. After I feel as though I know exactly how I want the story to flow, I sit at my computer and begin the process of putting my heart into words. I ALWAYS write with music - worship music. I have not written anything without music. Music is like medicine for my writing. You will usually find my Bible on the table next to me, too. There are many prayers and loads of love that goes into what I share. I don't just want to write words, I want the reader to feel the words.



Thank you for taking the time in learning a little more about me!

You can find me on my Facebook page: Author Jennifer Ross.
On Twitter: @JenniferRoss777





You can find Isaiah's Story on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Family Christian, goodreads, iTunes, etc.

New Author Page On Facebook

I have not been blogging for quite a long time ... You can now find me on my new author Facebook page. I have written a book titled Isaiah's Story. I signed with Ambassador International.

For three years, I dreampt of writing a book in memory of my son ... God took my ashes, and made beauty.

God got the final word.

Jeremiah 29:11
"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."


To purchase Isaiah's Story, click on the following link:

'Isaiah's Story' on Amazon.

If you are interested in reading more about my journey, please click the following link, and it will take you to my author Facebook page.

Author Jennifer Ross


Remembering with you ...

Beautiful Project On Loss

I am so excited and humbled, to be a part of this beautiful project that my friend Vanessa Horning is creating. I was the first woman to participate.

Click on the link below, to read my story, and find out more information on how you can be a part of this beautiful project.

VBH Photography

Picture of Grief

This is a picture that I made yesterday, for a website in regards to loss. The website is stillbirthday.com

If you would like to make a picture representing loss, feel free, and e-mail them to the following; heidi.faith@stillbirthday.com



I titled this picture:

"Immeasurable Love"





My picture represents a broken heart... shattered to pieces... but brought back together, by God.



If you begin at the left side, you will see tear drops, colored blue and pink. These tear drops represent the sons and daughters that are loss... each drop, holding the mother's and father's hopes and dreams...



The tear drops are caught by the hand of God... He catches each and every one...



Below His hand, you will find a sea of tears, colored in blue and pink...



It is shaded black throughout the left, signifying grief and anger...



As you move to the middle, you will find the "O", this represents the child no longer living, but remembered with a lit candle... because we will NEVER forget... they once lived...



On your right, you will notice the picture capturing the colors of the rainbow... bringing about hope, love and peace...



The "O" in the middle has the dark and light colors meet, because though we strive to keep going, and living a life for those gone to soon... we have moments when the darkness pulls us in...



BUT... God is bigger... and better... He continually holds us... our children...



... and carries us back into the light, where we find hope...





~Jennifer Ross, 2013~

Walking With You ~ Finding Hope and Healing With or Without a Rainbow

"For the final WWY post in this segment, we will share our experiences with longing for another baby to fill our empty arms. Some experienced a subsequent pregnancy after loss. Some may be fearful of embarking on that journey again. Some may not be able to have another child, whether due to infertility or other reasons. Some may have found that having another baby, however precious a gift, was not the key to healing the grief. Can you experience hope and healing…even if there is no rainbow after the storm? Lori will be guest posting on this blog and I will share some thoughts as well. We hope many of you will also join in, linking your own posts."




After having my dreams ripped from my heart... from my arms... I refused to not allow God to bless us with another child. My husband and I had not used any form of birth control, but instead, consistently prayed for God to knit a precious child within my womb. I don't even think that I asked... I begged.

Why did I want to experience pregnancy so soon after burying my child? To be honest, the loss falls into a separate category, than having your dreams of mothering a child fresh from the surroundings of your womb, into your arms.

When Isaiah died...

My.Life.Shattered.

I couldn't bring him back, no matter how many tears I continually cried, or how much I pleaded with the Lord. He was gone.

I had been robbed of many joys...

Rubbing my cheek along his soft delicate baby cheeks...

Feeding and changing him every two hours, for nights that would have seemed endless...

Introducing my handsome bundle to my family and friends... In a way, it was like he never existed.

I walked around with a swollen belly, that appeared to be with child... though it was empty.

Having another child did not heal my pain. It filled that spot in me that was silently screaming within... empty... but slowly being filled with hope. I knew that there was no guarantee that we would conceive another child, BUT... God graced us with another precious boy.

Oh, how my heart leaped, when my eyes witnessed that pastel pink line travel along the pregnancy window. I remember feeling like I was walking atop the clouds. I felt like I had redeemed my motherhood...

I had been given this blessing, six months after loosing Isaiah. I had an emotional roller coaster ride ahead of me. Many ups and downs, but God saw me through each one.

The twist to my pregnancy after the loss of Isaiah... My body began to react with the same conditions within my uterus, as I had with Isaiah. I was told that there was a blood clot forming around the amniotic sac... and that no heartbeat was to be found...

You will have to read the following post that I had written on Ezekiel's first birthday, to fully grasp the story of our miracle baby.

He.Is.Alive.

God.Had.The.Final.Word.



Here is the post:


When I reflect on the past year, I can't help, but be taken back to the nine months of my pregnancy with you. I'll never forget seeing the pink positive line on my pregnancy test. With excitement and fear entangled as one, I called everyone I knew. We were having another baby!

Ezekiel, until you're older, you may not realize what a true miracle you are. At five weeks pregnant, my body started to fight what God had knit in my belly. I started to bleed and have the same problems that had taken place with your brother, Isaiah. To say that I was terrified, would be an understatement.

I went in for an ultrasound, and there was no heartbeat to be found. My heart sunk. My soul was crushed. Why?.....

The next day, because of the amount of bleeding, daddy took me to the E.R. They told me that I was miscarrying.

On the drive home, I could feel life inside of me. I could feel that you were still hanging on. I would NOT give up on you! I refused. I prayed with power from the depths of my being, a prayer of a mother that just can't say goodbye to another child.

GOD HEARD.

GOD ANSWERED.

People throughout the world began to pray. On their knees. In the morning. Throughout the day. At bedtime. Spreading the word.

You began to grow. Kick. Suck your thumb.

The blood clots began to go away.




We found out that we were having another little boy. How wonderful!



Each week, I got to watch my belly grow.



On the morning of October 16, 2009, we were preparing for your birth. I had this weight on my shoulders, full of fear. Fear of death. Is my child going to be born alive? Is my body going to be able to handle another birth? Another surgery. I pray unceasingly.



At 9:21 a.m., you take your first breath of life...... I exhale the cloud of death that consumed my thoughts, and took my first breath of hope.



You are our sweet angel.



My rainbow.



You have brought this family so much joy. Happiness. Laughs.



You are not a replacement for the loss of your brother. You are a beautiful addition to our family.

God took my broken heart. My broken dreams........ and filled my arms.

Thank you God.

You ARE good!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY :o) Ezekiel Isaiah Ross :o)

I love you.

(End of Post.)




Ezekiel's middle name had been chosen in honor of his big brother... Isaiah. The two of them will meet someday in heaven, but until then...

My Isaiah rests in the arms of God... and Ezekiel carries on the smiles, hugs, kisses and love of a mother's dreams that were shattered, but slowly being brought together, one day at a time.

Until we meet again.

Walking With You ~ Mirror, Mirror ~ The Comparison Trap

This weeks talk on Walking With You: "Mothers often fall into the trap of comparing ourselves to one another. This is a trap many women fall into. We compare our families, mothering styles, fashion sense, careers or lack thereof, bodies, etc. Even mothers with babies in heaven compare the way we grieve our children. I know…sad…but we do it, if we’re honest enough to admit it. So, how can we find freedom from this? Sharing is a start…telling the truth…admitting the struggle. I think, then, we will see that we all love our children, regardless of how we choose to remember and honor their lives…whether publicly or quietly…with big parties or simple moments of remembrance. Be real on this week’s post, and let’s free ourselves from the trap of comparing!"


I often struggle on feeling as though my image needs to be equal or above that of other mother's/women, but quickly realize that we are all created in His image... so technically, we are all the same. When it comes down to the way I compare myself to another bereaved mother, and how she chooses to remember her child(ren), well the answer is simple, I don't. I have always felt completely comfortable in reading on how a mother was extravagant, or simple in the way in which she chose to honor the life of her child(ren). My problem stretches among the judgemental people, who turn their noses up... point their finger at how I choose to honor my son.

When it comes to keeping the memory of my son alive, I become a fierce mother... just as I am to the four precious boys that I endlessly take care of and give a tender motherly love to, on a daily basis...

In the beginning of my loss, I would mother Isaiah in secret. I had a feeling of shame as I thought on little things that I wanted to do for him. Just because of his absence in my physical life, did not mean that I did not have a mother's natural instinct to show my love to and for my child. I carried him within my womb for 19 weeks and 3 days. As each day passed, I grew more aware of his personality... I bonded with my son. I fell in love with the daydreams I had of holding him... loving him... bringing him home from the hospital... raising him.


I was his mama.

I.Am.His.Mama.


The duty of being a mother, does not get erased just because your child died. I know that can be a scary word, especially when speaking of a tiny innocent baby dying, but it happens. Instead of the weird looks or thoughts of others, I think that there could be a little more compassion for the parents who want to memorialize the life of their child. The world kept spinning, as our hearts became shattered. Some women, including myself, become frantic, trying to search for each piece, so that we can bring the pieces back together. It may be days, weeks, months, and some years... we have taken on a new shape, but that one very special piece cannot be found... Our child(ren) are gone, but somehow, still remain here with us. We medicate that empty hole, that missing piece, by doing unique things... whether it be that empty spot at the table, in the car, under the Christmas tree, on the blanket watching fireworks, etc. Our hearts become marinated in the love that we are able to give.

Have you ever thought what love really is, or what is the best way to show love?


Wikipedia states: "Love is an emotion of a strong affection and personal attachment."

I would have to agree to the above definition. I loved that little boy more than my fingers can type in an expression to describe... Personal attachment? I would have to fill my lungs with every ounce of oxygen that I could inhale, and shout out "Yes!"

God had to forsake Jesus at the cross... He never asked me to do the same to my son.


No more feeling shameful.

No more hiding.

No more whispering.

No more giving excuses.



He was my little boy.

He.Is.My.Little.Boy.



Until my dying day, I will mother my son, Isaiah Christopher Ross.

It may be by placing his baby chick on his grave at Easter, a pumpkin in the fall, a wreath during the Christmas season, having his birth date/name/footprints engraved in my back, etc. It may be as simple as baking and decorating a cake in honor of his life... of my deep undying love for my child...

This was Isaiah's 2nd. birthday cake. I bought the star candles to give it a little bit of heaven, and the two candles in the middle were for his birthday. While we were singing "Happy Birthday," the two middle candles went out, just as if he were there with us in that very moment, silently participating... whispering, "I am here mama... I love you"......



“You've gotta dance like there's nobody watching,
Love like you'll never be hurt,
Sing like there's nobody listening,
And live like it's heaven on earth.”
― William W. Purkey

Walking With You ~ Overcoming Guilt ~ Embracing Joy

This weeks talk on Walking With You: "One area so many mothers struggle with is guilt, especially those who experience the loss of a baby/child. We want to address this struggle in this post. It will help mothers quietly battling guilt for living life and experiencing joy to know they are not alone. Other moms silently battle this as well. Whether it is the startling first time you really laugh after losing your child, or whether you have experienced the healing balm of joy for years, share your thoughts on this week’s post."

I have thought on this subject for a handful of days, and how I was to answer these somewhat "simple" questions. Just compile a list of painful memories, and how I have carried around the guilt of the death of my son. Simple. The answer became more complex, as I searched over the broken pieces that have been swimming around in my heart, throughout the last four years.

Sunday morning, I was standing in the bathroom with my eight year old son, Parker, fixing his hair for church. As he was standing there, watching me in the mirror, he asked, "Mom, how did Isaiah die?" I stood there, kept combing his hair, my heart began to beat faster and faster, and I honestly was at a loss for words. How do I answer this question. A person may answer, "Tell the truth." It's really not that easy. Well Parker... "Your brother's life was taken, so that I could have a fighting chance at living. Yes, that's right, kind of like murder." Really? I don't want to lie to my children. They need to know the truth, but are too young to completely swallow the entire "real life" story. They know that I almost died, but I don't think their minds can imagine a little boy, their brother, laying in my arms, fighting for his life... Heart slowly beating... oxygen depleting... death overtaking life... gone.

Forever... in this life.

I think he could read the pain in my eyes, and accepted my quick answer, "Parker, there are a lot of things about the loss of Isaiah that you just can't understand right now at your age. When you get older, you'll be able to understand the story completely," as I continued combing over the same patch of hair, a dozen times. He gave a quick/cheerful "Okay," and ran off to go play with his brothers.

I feel like I have to conceal the way Isaiah died, like I'm going to be judged on what a selfish, wretched mother I must be, allowing death to come upon my little boy. On rare occasions, my mother will have to comfort me, whispering the same sentence, "Jenny, you were going to die, the doctor did all she could do to try and change your health, and there was no other option." With a crack in my voice, I conclude, "I know, I just wish..."

Last summer (2012), I went to the hospital to get copies of my medical records. Only a couple of people knew that I did this. I ordered from the night of August 2, 2008 - August 5, 2008. The woman told me that I couldn't get them for a few days, and that I could have them mailed or that I could pick them up. "Pick up please," I quickly stated. I opened the door, walked down the shadowed hallway, past the cream walls, and to the elevator. My legs felt heavy, the same as my heart did. I pushed the button to the main floor, all the while, my thoughts were consuming every inch that had healed over the last three and a half years. Did I just open a door, that I'm going to regret? Am I going to read the doctors notes, and find reason to believe, that she was wrong in the decisions that were made in regards to my health?

Three long days passed. I got a call from the woman in the medical records department, letting me know that my papers were finished, and could be picked up at any time. "Thank you," I exhaled heavily.

After picking up the envelope, I quietly sat in my car, still debating if I should read them, or shred them. I started the ignition, laid the envelope on my lap, and slowly drove home. You sure do look at life differently, when your eyes, heart and soul, search for good among the bad.

I walked through the front door, and sat on my couch. Opened the seal of the envelope... the seal of "life." Slowly pulling out the packet of papers, I flipped through papers upon papers of blood transfusions. My past was alive again, as I continued searching.

There it was... My doctors medical notes (quotes from her notes):

*"The patient was adamant she wanted to try and save the pregnancy."

*"The decision in light of the chronic placenta abruption underlying an acute further abruption now leading towards DIC."

*"The decision was made to proceed with induction for life saving measuring."

*The infant was then swaddled and wrapped in a warm blanket and placed on mother's abdomen..."

I'm going to cut in here real quick... Isaiah was delivered into the mighty hands of God at this point in the notes...

*"Estimated blood loss during delivery is 525 ml."

I'm now in the O.R.:

*"She was placed under anesthesia by Dr. O"

*"Attempt at using the large curet to scrape free the tissue, but was very difficult."

*"The placenta came out in multiple small fragments with pieces of membrane and small pieces of cord and very attached to the uterine wall."

*"I had a very difficult time getting any kind of uterine wall texture."

*"She was taken immediately to ICU."

*"Estimated Blood Loss: 300-350 mL of active blood in the operating room."

*"Fluid Replacement: 2300 mL in the operating room."

These were just little pieces of the 48 pages of copied notes, from my medical records. I investigated every single letter and number in that booklet that held my life... my sons life. I had to see with my own two eyes, read each word...

That.There.Was.No.Other.Option.

I placed that packet back into the white envelope that it was given to me in, and sat silently on my couch. Tears filled my eyes, as I whispered...

There.Was.No.Other.Option.

I believe that in that very moment, I was allowed a different kind of healing.

I had held myself captive in the first three years following his death. I would emotionally and mentally keep my heart in the very place where his stopped...
Swallowing the truth of his death, was not going to be an option... Until now...

No more.

No more imprisoning myself with an unreasonable guilt. God's will is not for me to travel as if I were lost, but awake to a new day, finding the good, the love in life.

On one of my recent posts, I wrote this; "I have concluded that there will be no forgiving myself. How do you forgive yourself, when there was nothing you could do? It's not possible, nor necessary. I have come to accept that fact. Trust and faith in God, will be my greatest recipe for my healing."

I made a decision to look at life deeper, for him... for me. I learned how to carry him in my heart, not keeping it on that blood-ridden bed, where the lasts of his heartbeats were heard.

I remember in the first few months after his death, I would conceal my smile around people, other than my family. I thought if they witnessed a smile, they would assume that I was "fixed." All better. Now we can have her back... the way she used to be. There is one problem with that... I will never be the same.

Honestly, I don't think that I can get through two hours, without thinking about him. I carry him around in my heart, mind and soul. He is a part of me. His little body was carved with special pieces of my husband and myself. The Lord knit him with the very best pieces of his daddy and me. Maybe, that is why he couldn't stay here on this earth... he was far too perfect...

Walking With You ~ Steps Back Into Life

This weeks talk on Walking With You: "Share about your first steps back into life. What helped you survive in the world outside as you took those first tender steps? Are there still tender areas for you today, living in a world that doesn't embrace or understand the loss of a baby/child? How do you cope with those struggles? What advice would you offer those new to this walk to encourage and bring hope? How has this changed for you from the beginning? If you are in early grief, what do you fear/struggle with as you try to navigate a new normal….life without your baby?"


My first steps back into life... looking at my feet that were covered in hospital slippers, walking down that cold darkened hallway, away from my life... that little boy that lay peacefully "asleep" in a beautiful wicker basket, nestled in baby blankets. Giving a final kiss upon that tiny precious head. Whispering a final "I love you," in his ear. Those were my first steps... into a world that never appeared the same, as it had before arriving at the hospital.

People surrounded me with lots of love. Phone calls, dinners, the most beautiful sympathy cards, etc. I knew that I was loved, and that others hurt for me, but just didn't "get it," by no fault of their own. They slowly trickled off into their own lives, leaving me with many thoughts and aches to carry on my own. I felt abandoned. As they "left," I locked the door. To the deepest depths of my heart. My pain. They were to be excluded. I suppose it was my way to survive. I wanted to be alone. Alone.

Sound. Taste. Sight. Touch. My entire being of who I was, had converted into a new person. A new woman. A new mother. All that I looked upon, was different. I noticed the way a raindrop rolls off of a leaf, maybe, because I had so many tears roll off of my cheeks in much the same way. I noticed the way the ants would carry loads of dirt upon their shoulders, just as I had begun carrying a weight upon mine, building the new foundations of my life.

I was to never be the same, but I knew deep down, I wanted to be better. I wanted to be a better wife. Mother. Daughter. Sister. Aunt. Friend. Neighbor. I wanted to reflect the beauty that I knew God had for me. There was no right or wrong in grieving. Only making sure that I continued to walk on the path that was straight and narrow. I knew that if I didn't wander off on my own path, that God would always meet me right where I was. Sometimes, I would follow Him, having enough strength to continue. Other times I had to pitch a tent, and camp out right where I was. I didn't want to go further. I needed more time feeling, breathing, crying... taking it all in. Being the gentleman that He is, I would be carried through the mud and muck. Then I would allow Him to continue paving the way... and I would follow. My attire would be covered in stains, torn with holes, wrinkled with doubt, but my tears would cleanse the stains, straighten the wrinkles, and His hands would mend the holes.

I'm miles away from the beginning, but never forgetting how I got this far. I need no reminders. I live, surrounded by them every day.

I see his smile when I sit and laugh with my boys. I see him run, while watching my boys play gleefully with one another. I feel his love, as my husband holds me. I see his eyes, when I look in the mirror. He is all around me. He consumes my thoughts. My heart. My soul.

He is, and will always be, my precious son. The little boy I continue to hike miles upon miles, through mud and muck... until that day, we meet again...

Walking With You ~ Clinging in the Pit

~This weeks talk on Walking With You: "If you are not new to loss, talk a bit about early grief. What was it like, clinging for hope in the pits of despair? What did you cling to for hope? How did you survive the early days? What helped? What do you wish you could share with someone new to this walk, clinging in the pit? If you’re in the pit, currently, share your struggles. What can others do to encourage you?"~

I'm not "new" to this loss. The loss of my child. My son. As of today, January 13, 2013, the "helpful" Lilypie button on my blog tells me that I have lived 4 years, 5 months, 1 week & 3 days without him. My child. My son.

As I was preparing for this post, I took about an hour in reviewing my blog from the very beginning, up through 2010. I came upon many sad reminders of where I was, and across many hardships that I still face with the loss today.

In the very beginning, I can't say that I was clinging to "anything" in the pit. I made myself comfortable in that cold dark hole of despair. I needed to take it all in. I wanted to consume my loss. By inhaling and exhaling the pain, touching the emptiness and tasting the tears of despair. Why?

I.Did.Not.Want.To.Miss.One.Piece.Of.My.Loss.

I needed to experience ever drop. I needed to allow God to carry me through....when I was ready. It took a very long time for me to be ready. Try two years ready. Just to want to begin to heal. I carried a lot of weight on my shoulders. Guilt. I had to "forgive" myself, before I could start to heal. Throughout just this past year, I have concluded that there will be no forgiving myself. How do you forgive yourself, when there was nothing you could do? It's not possible, nor necessary. I have come to accept that fact. Trust and faith in God, will be my greatest recipe for my healing.

I am going to end this post with an older post that I had written on January 21, 2011. I named it "Praying.Healing.Where I Am.....Serious Post." Visiting Isaiah's grave was one choice that I chose to do often. No, he is not "really" there....just, well, you know.... I went to his grave so often, my sister ended up calling my doctor, because she was so worried about me. I was "okay," but it was just something that I needed to do for me.

His spirit entered eternal love and peace with God, the very moment his heart stopped, but that little body grew in me. I felt it kick, roll and dance within me. Not just as a mother, but as his - Isaiah's mother - I needed to spend A LOT of time at his grave. I had to be there through the "process." The following post that I am sharing from 1-21-11 is not *sweet talk.*




January 21, 2001 (Keep in mind that this was written nearly two years ago.):

"When I post my words on this blog, they have been straight from my heart. I have kept truth in every word I type. There have been many times that I wanted to dig deeper, share more pain, but I didn't want to hurt anyone or make them fall deeper in their own grief, for reading the words that I chose to write. After two years of blogging, I have chosen to do it. It's not anything crazy and so far out there, but it's a subject that I have only read about one time, out of two years surfing other blogs. I have other things weighing on my heart too.....

I'm going to start off with a comment that I left Kelly on one of her posts, after she had commented on my last post: (My comment below.)

"About my latest post, I sure don't mean to sound negative or like a broken record about my "problems." I truly want healing, and I just really don't know what to do. I pray, and pray, and pray, and I still feel so so bad. I usually numb the hurt for awhile, then it slowly trickles out. I pray that God is still using it for His glory, even though I'm still hanging onto it."

One of the struggles that I come across when writing, is not wanting to represent anything but Christ. I have no greater love, than that of my Lord. He can heal. He will heal. He DOES heal.

I don't want to write out my struggles and leave the post without any hope at the end. I really do walk around with a numb covering, just so I can get through the day. I do laugh. I do have fun. I do all of this, with an opened wound on my heart. It hasn't gotten better for me. This doesn't mean that God can't and won't heal the hurt or the loss. After writing Kelly about how I pray, and pray, and pray, I realized that in my prayers, I never asked God to heal me from the guilt. I prayed that He would give me the strength to live with the guilt. Talk about being deceived! 

I have also been reading through the book of Job, and have come across some verses that really tear at my soul. These verses are the part that I really don't think that anyone wants to think about, or care to read. I respect that, but I feel like I need to cross the "boundary" for those who want someone to do it, because they just can't do it. There is definitely a silent "no no," about speaking about the grave. I am deeply burden by thoughts of my sons grave and I really hope and pray that my respect that I have tried to "earn" on my blog is not lost. I am so so sorry if I "crossed" your boundary in grief.

Two verses that I read out of the book of Job:

*Job 19:26 And though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God.

*Job 21:26 They shall lie down alike in the dust, and the worms shall cover them.

To be completely honest, I don't go through one day without thinking about it. I know that my sons soul went to be with the Lord. Our Creator is holding that sweet soul that He made with His own hands. He holds my son.

* 2 Corinthians 5:8 We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord. 

I believe every single word that is written in the Holy Bible. 

I struggle very deeply with the knowledge of knowing the natural part of death. I don't like knowing what is happing to my son. A mother has a built in protection system for her children. It doesn't matter if your child is a newborn, teenager or an adult. Each child leaves their DNA in their mother's blood. I have all of this protection that I have in me, for each of my children. I'm telling you, I am a very, very, very PROTECTIVE  mother! It troubles my mind to think of Isaiah and what has happened to his body.

Every time I go outside in the cold, I think about it. Every time it rains, I think about it. Every time it's been 80 degrees outside, I've thought about it.  With each passing season, I feel as though I am slowly loosing his tiny little body that I nurtured with my own. I feel as though little pieces of my strength pass with him. 

While I'm lying in bed at night, waiting for sleep to fall upon me, I wonder how he felt as his heartbeat slowly came to his last. 

Did it hurt him?

Did he feel the oxygen being taken from his lungs?

Could he hear his mommy whispering in his little ear, " I love you Isaiah Christopher."

Were the nurses 100% sure that he had passed, before being taken from my arms and placed by himself on the nursery bed?

Should I have had the nurses try to save his life, even though they told me that there was no way that he was going to make it? I could have had greater faith, and at the same time, I didn't want him to suffer for a handful of moments that he would have lived, in pain. I didn't want to loose the warmth and life that I held for fifteen minutes. One answer was right, and only God knows if the other was the one that I should have chosen. Was I supposed to be this women with faith beyond words, than that of the words that were spoken or knowledge learned through college, by nurses? Or, was I supposed to hold onto a faith, for the hope that I had held for my innocent little one? 

There is so much pain, I simply can't handle it sometimes. That's when you will come along a post on my blog that holds so much pain. Although I may appear to sound like a broken record at times, I am so thankful for the support that God has graced me with, on my blog. I am so thankful for the women who come along and just write a simple, " I'm praying for you." There is nothing stronger than prayer. God is within it all. He uses all of us, the broken hearted, to bring Him glory..... if we let Him. Just continue asking, begging if you need to. Cry to Him.

* Psalm 34:15 The eyes of the LORD are upon the righteous, and his ears are open unto their cry. 

* Psalm 34:17 The righteous cry, and the LORD heareth, and delivereth them out of all their troubles.

* Psalm 34:19 Many are the afflictions of the righteous: but the LORD delivereth him out of them all.

 

I'm going to end with the comment that Kelly had replied to, regarding my comment written in the beginning of this post:

"Your latest post was just honesty from your heart about a difficult battle you struggle with...and I'm glad you shared it, so that we can pray and show love to you. We can't help how we feel. My friend, Lynette (in real life friend) says that God's part is always bigger than our part. That means that we don't have to strive to do it all right or have it all figured out. He will work in our lives and hearts in His time to heal, restore, grow, mend...whatever it is that needs dealt with. And, our part is small. It's not about us getting it right. He can work in and through us. Our part is just to keep clinging to Him. So, just keep clinging....He'll do the rest."

That's what I'm going to continue doing. Clinging to the Lord.

This post covers where I am.

Wow! After writing that sentence, I noticed the last two words.

"I Am." 

It looks as though I've been covered by Him all along! Thank you Father!

* Exodus 3:14 God said to Moses, “I AM WHO I AM." 

God is so awesome! Looks like He just used my pain and got the glory. I just love when He shows me special answers along the way. In times like this, it makes the pain worth it all. There is something gained and not lost.

I will praise Him forever......."

I hope that I have not crossed the boundary of any of you, but this post represents the early stages of *my* grief.There were a lot of deep comments on that post, that reflect the heart of women that were right "there" with me. They silently suffered with those morbid thoughts too. If you are interested in what they had to say, click here.

Walking With You ~ Introduction and Where are You Now?

I am joining the series, "Walking With You," from Kelly Gerken's blog, Sufficient Grace Ministries.
This is my third time sharing, and to be honest, it never gets old. I never tire, when taking time to write about that little boy, Isaiah Christopher Ross, whom I miss more than words. Each time writing, is like giving a breath of life, to a body that is gone. He continues to live on through me. Through my thoughts, laughter, smiles and love. I can't put away the pen and notepad, because of four years that have passed. Just as love grows, so do my writings about my son - my pain - my love - my hope. Death will not get the last word.

For those that are new to my blog, let me introduce myself. My name is Jennifer Ross, I am 31 years old, and I have five boys that I have carried within my womb and given birth too. Sadly, one of the boys, the fourth to be exact, died within my arms after being born too early. He was healthy, whole and I believe carried a joy throughout his spirit... The one reason that he didn't survive --- His lungs were not strong enough. With oxygen depleting from his lungs, heart slowly beating to the last beats to be heard...EVER...he left my arms, to be delivered into the arms of his heavenly Father.

(This picture was taken about one month before the loss of Isaiah.)


How did this happen?

August 3, 2008 was the start of a new journey in my life.

From seven weeks to nineteen and a half weeks of pregnancy, I had a huge blood clot that was forming in my uterus. It was covering three fourths of my placenta. I knew that there was a possibility that I would loose my child, but I guess I still looked at myself in the world's view.... "it won't happen to me." You may know what I'm talking about.

Unfortunately, it did happen to me.

On the 2nd. of August, I was rushed to the hospital at 11:00 pm. The blood clot had pulled away from the placenta, causing a partial placental abruption, which started a bleed that ended up becoming lethal. Not causing death to my son..... but a fast approaching death upon me.

The next day, on the 3rd. of August, I will NEVER forget. My doctor came into my room and sat at the end of my bed. She said that I had a condition called D.I.C. She said that we needed to deliver the placenta, or I would be dead within the next twenty four hours. After the delivery, I still only had a 30% chance at survival.

After receiving statistics as frightening and real as they were.... What was I supposed to do? I did all that I knew at that very moment.... what the doctor told me to do. I couldn't "pick" between my three older boys that were home at the time (they would be without a mother), the little innocent boy that was dancing within my womb, or the life of myself... which would also lead to the death of Isaiah as well. He was not to be the "winner" in this circle. In the end, his life was taken, to save mine, and to be completely honest, a HUGE/ENORMOUS piece of my heart died the moment the nurse nodded her head to confirm that he was gone. Never coming back. Never will laugh/cry, run, play with blocks and Lego's, ride a bike, go to school, play on a playground, run his toes through hot sand on a beach, watch fireworks, have a squirt gun fight with his brothers, play hide-and-go-seek, skip rocks on the water, eat birthday cake, dress up for Halloween, open a Christmas gift, make me ornaments for my Christmas tree, make me a Mother's Day card, graduate, have a wife, have children -- he will never wrap his arms around my body... I will never hear an "I love you," spoken from his lips.

Where am I now in my grief and healing? This is a very simple answer. The healing will be for a lifetime. With each year that passes, I am able to mend my grief enough to survive. To smile and laugh, enjoy my family and friends, but there is always tears somewhere hidden in me. I am able to camouflage my pain now. I "learned" how too, in order to survive a loss so great, so painful, so empty at times...But, with the gift of my sons life, his very breath, the future that was taken from him... I make it my mission as his mother, to live a full life. To live as though it were my last day... to smile at strangers and say something nice, enjoy a walk on a warm summer evening, taking it all in...That's how I live, taking it all in... the heart wrenching loss of a precious boy in our family, and living and breathing with a thankfulness for what he has given me... LIFE.

The Christmas Giveaway Winner!

~ Winner is announced on my Facebook! :0)

Christmas Giveaway

Tonight

Tonight, Parker and I went to church. I dropped him off at his class and went in and sat next to my dad and step-mom. We had a really good preaching, and at the end we were asked if we had any prayer requests.

I looked around quickly, so that I did not cut someone else off in their request, my heart starts to beat a little faster, my hand goes up. The words "I do," come flying from my lips- already knowing that this was the reason I went to church tonight. God knows I had a sink filled with dirty dishes to wash.... Note: Yes, the dishes are still sitting in the sink as I type.... A pumpkin cheesecake pie is still waiting to be made before tomorrow.... Note: It's almost 11:00 p.m. and I still need to make that pie.... But, there is always time for the Lord!

Everyone gathered around me, placing hands on me, and lifted me to the Lord. As people started to pray, tears started to stream down my face. Hearing others intercede for me, and speak uplifting words on how they see who I am, what I do for others and speaking the words of love for me, is just what I needed.

When driving home, it was a clear sky, with the stars sparkling, the moon lit up, and I just felt "still." The radio was on, and 'Praise You In This Storm' by Casting Crowns, started to play. It started to play right before I took my last turn to get home, and that road takes me right past the cemetery where my little Isaiah rests. With one hand on the wheel, and the other turning the volume up, I raised my hand to the Lord, and start to sing, with tears streaming down my cheeks.

As I pass the very place he lays, these words were sung:

"I raise my hands and praise the God who gives and takes away"...

"And I'll praise You in this storm
And I will lift my hands
For You are who You are
No matter where I am
And every tear I've cried
You hold in Your hand
You never left my side
And though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm"...

A beautiful mess..... That's what I was tonight.

Where the love lasts forever...

There is a song we sing at church called "Where the love lasts forever," and it literally takes my singing to a complete halt.

These are the words that make it most difficult to sing:

"My soul will dance with you, where the love lasts forever...."

I feel this peace come about me. I can see Isaiah dancing around the throne of God with his little bare feet, and a smile illuminating off his face...... I also feel this huge blow to my stomach, as I wish that I could be watching that beautiful smile right in front of me........ smiling directly at me.

But, I began singing again as the verses get easier, and remember this verse...

1 Thessalonians 4:13
But I do not want you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning those who have fallen asleep, lest you sorrow as others who have no hope.


Yes, I grieve, deeply at times, but this hope I carry runs deep within and throughout my being.


Romans 8:28
And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are called according to his purpose.


You wouldn't have seen this next statement written in the first three years after the loss of my son, but this last year has brought with it some unexplained peace. Here it goes......

-Isaiah WAS called according to his purpose-

With as much pain as I have endured throughout these last four years, and tears that could fill a sea, I know that God had a plan for his short lived life, just as his plans for mine continue.

As I look back on all that I have written on my blog, it amazes me the strength that builds as the posts grow in numbers. I have to smile, and believe that with each post written, and tear cried, I have only traveled closer to the throne of God. Closer to the plans that He has written for my life- willing to do His plan, without questioning, "Why?"

When my journey has been completed.....

Yes-"My soul will dance with you, where the love lasts forever..."

Grace For The Journey

Kelly, Holly and I had an amazing evening on Saturday, October 13th. We put on the very first "Grace For The Journey" conference, for Sufficient Grace Ministries.

Many beautiful women joined us in remembrance of our precious children, who have entered eternal peace and beauty before us.

Kelly, Holly and I each spoke on what we know best..... loss, mixed with beautiful hope.

We talked and counseled.

Enjoyed amazing food and fellowship together.

We prayed.

We thanked God for choosing us to be their mommies.

Our hearts ache often, but our hope remains, growing strong with each new day. One day closer to our reunion in heaven.

I am so thankful to have been a part of this beautiful conference, and blessed to be a daughter of the King.

Here are some pictures from the conference. It was scheduled from 5pm-9pm, and we didn't finish until 10:30 p.m.! It really was a beautiful night.

This is one of the tables set up with the supplies that Kelly gives (FREE) to mothers who have loss a child(ren).

These are the sweet,(pun intended,lol), cupcakes that Kelly brought up from Ohio, along with lots of other yummy food!

Sweet Kelly speaking.... did I mention beautiful?!

Me, giving my "bold" advice on how to treat a mother who has had to say goodbye to her child(ren), because their hearts stopped beating, and precious souls were delivered into the arms of Jesus. "Things to say," and "Not to say"..... This includes how to speak to the father as well. Yes, their hearts ache too......

Sweet Holly speaking... did I mention beautiful?!

After we spoke individually, we then did a panel discussion. Kelly is holding Holly's daughter, Evanee. She is A-D-O-R-A-B-L-E!!

We all lit a candle at the end, and whispered our child(ren)s name(s). I decided to share this photo of Kelly, because those three candles gently burning in her hand, represent the two daughters and one son that pulled their mothers heart into creating this beautiful ministry. It's their precious lives that are the heartbeat of Kelly's desire to comfort others, the way that she has been comforted. (Thank you Kelly.)

The three of us being silly.... it comes naturally!

Last of all, a picture of the rainbow that appeared to Kelly and Holly on their drive home Sunday morning. They came to my church, and we had a table set up with all of Sufficient Grace Ministries love. Love for the broken hearted.... filled with hope. I spoke in front of my church that morning sharing what Kelly does, and that I myself carry the burden of a broken heart. A missing piece to my family. When I saw that Kelly and Holly saw this rainbow on the way home, my heart stopped for a few beats..... I knew he was with me, watching down, whispering..... "good job mommy, I love you....."

Broken

The last couple of days I have been an absolute mess. I did have some friends e-mail me to make sure that I was okay. I had a post up titled "I'm done with this abuse," and then decided to remove it and deal with my problem privately. I'm not going to go into great detail, but there are some family problems right now, and I am completely hurt. Broken. How can people judge you, when in reality, they don't fully know you? I'm talking about the deep depths of my heart. My life behind closed walls. Finances. Deciding to stay home with your children, and struggle to make ends meet, because you just can't stomach the thought of a complete stranger taking care of your precious children. I call this sacrifice. Me giving up things I want in this world, so that I can raise my children in the way that they should go. I guess when you're walking in the light, the darkness has to come sometime.

People that are supposed to be supporting you, keep talking behind your back, just as if you don't have any feelings. Even stretching their toes beyond my boundary, and joking around about what I write on my blog. This has seriously hit me hard. What a low blow.

Yesterday, I laid on my couch in my pajamas and robe and cried. I would stop for a little while, then tears would quietly run down the side of my cheek onto the pillow I was resting on.

Tonight, I was talking on the phone with one of my friends and telling her about what happened when I was at Wal-Mart with the boys..... Devon asked if we could go and look at the Halloween costumes, though I was in a hurry to get back home, I gave into his plea of excitement. We walked up to the costumes, and this little boy whom we did not know, started to show us the costumes that he really liked. He must have been about four years old by the looks of his height and speech. There was no mother or father in the area. He continued to point out all of the famous hero costumes, Batman, Hulk, and Star Wars. Any person passing by, would assume that the little boy was with us..... Then, a girl around the age of twelve came running towards the little boy, and said "come on Isaiah, I'm ready." He waved a cheerful good-bye and off they went............. My heart sank, and broke into a million little pieces. I turned around and watched them run away. For a split second, I felt as though God gave me just a few moments with Isaiah, and then reality hit. I could have fell apart right on that floor. I just started to walk. Walk off the tears. I turned down an aisle, and as I turned the corner, a picture covered in words talking about life, was colored with all of the colors of the rainbow.......

I do believe that Isaiah is with me........ sometimes, I just want to hold him so bad. Kiss and hug him. Cradle him in my arms. It's a hurt that can't be described. An aching that lingers.......

And leaves you broken.

This Shirt

I was going through the top drawer in my dresser, and came upon an article of clothing that I hadn't seen in a very long time. I had purposely buried it so deep within the drawer, so that I would not see it on a daily basis. I actually forgot that it was even there. If you are curious what it was, let me share a picture to give you a visual...........

This is the last shirt that hugged my growing belly. This is the shirt that I lifted over my belly, and watched my little Isaiah dance around in the safety of my womb. This is the shirt that I put on before going to bed that night..... the last night I got to hold him in my belly. The last night I got to feel him kicking..... the night I rode in an ambulance, because something was very wrong.......

After arriving in the E.R., a gown was placed over this lilac colored shirt, and I was taken up to the O.B. department. I went through contractions all night long in this shirt....... I was told that I was dying in this shirt...... and that I would loose him as well....... that little boy dancing so happily, so peacefully within my womb..... I received many blood transfusions in this shirt. I went through labor in this shirt, a labor that was a nightmare..... just to give birth and death all in one....... I was wearing this shirt as his heat beat slowed one beat at a time..... This pretty lilac colored shirt went from hugging my growing belly, to hugging my son that lay in my arms...... This shirt was on me, as his precious soul went from my arms, into the arms of Jesus....

After the delivery, I was taken into surgery with this shirt on. I had to be put under, and have my placenta removed piece by piece, because it had grown into part of my uterus. I received more blood transfusions in this shirt. I came close to my own death in this shirt. This shirt was cut off of me either before I left the O.R., or after arriving in the I.C.U.

This shirt was handed to me shortly before I left the hospital, because it was considered my personal property. I arrived and left the hospital with this shirt.

Today, I opened this shirt up, and laid it on my kitchen table. I put the sleeves together that had been cut, and took both halves that used to be whole, and tried making it look like one piece......... while trying to put my shirt back together, I had a thought; this shirt could really represent my heart, and how it must look after going through the heartbreaking loss of my son. Then, my thoughts turned toward the Lord, and I smiled. "Yes, Father, you have made me whole again. I know that I never will be the same. My heart has been shaped and put together differently, but when I look close, all of the pieces are still there... being hemmed by your hands.

Grace for the journey~ A Day of Encouragement and Remembrance

I am so excited to share that Sufficient Grace Ministries will be hosting a women’s conference and remembrance ceremony where I attend church!! It has taken a lot of work getting this set up, but it sure is going to be worth it! Kelly Gerken, Holly Haas, and I, are excited to share our hearts with all who attend, and will also be having a special time for others to share their stories as well. You can read more about this exciting conference below:

Grace for the Journey ~ A Day of Encouragement and Remembrance

Hosted by Sufficient Grace Ministries

Saturday, October 13, 2012

5:00pm-9:00pm



Harbor Light Community Church

8220 Clayton Road

Harbor Springs, Michigan



We are excited to announce plans for a day of remembrance and encouragement for mothers who have experienced the loss of a baby, and for anyone who wants to better understand how to minister to those who grieve. We all face trials and loss in this life, so our message of hope is relevant to anyone, regardless of whether you have experienced the loss of a child or not.



There will be a few speakers to share about the following topics:



Finding Hope Through Grief’s Journey

How to Minister to a Bereaved Parent

Making Precious Memories ~ Incorporating Your Baby’s Memory into Your Family Celebrations

The Effects of Sibling Grief and Ways to Support Grieving Siblings



We will also have a time of sharing, prayer, and a remembrance/sky lantern release ceremony honoring our babies in heaven. Mothers will have an opportunity to personalize each lantern. We will be bringing some items to share with the mothers, from the Dreams of You Shop, and some other gifts to encourage. There will be refreshments, and a time to share with one another in the telling of our stories. This special retreat will be hosted by Sufficient Grace Ministries with no set charge for the participants. Free will donations are appreciated to help cover the costs of this event and to support the outreaches of this ministry. We are hoping to spark interest with the mothers in the area, as we believe this event could be a great comfort to those walking this path. October is national pregnancy loss awareness month, and a special time to honor these precious lives, and encourage the mothers with grieving hearts.

To register for the event, please send your name and contact information to either Kelly Gerken at: sufficientgraceministries@gmail.com or Jennifer Ross at: hoster777@live.com

Happy Birthday Isaiah.... 4 years in the arms of Jesus

Isaiah,

As I sit and write this letter at the beginning of a new day (12:30 am), I realize that these were some of the last precious hours I was blessed to carry you deep within my womb. If I had only known how it would have ended, I would have been on that hardwood floor in my hospital room, pleading to the Lord to spare your life... but the Lord always knows what He is doing. He knew that my strength would have dissipated throughout the night, if I would have known that you and I were traveling to the end of our road here on earth. I never would have believed that this is how your life was going to end. Even after four years, I can still see that hospital room just as if it were yesterday. I can still smell the scents that August brings, as your birthday approaches. For the last four years, the month of August has brought new meaning into my life. It is a time that my heart aches for days, as I wish that you were here with us. A time when I sit and watch your brothers play, wondering what you would be doing with them. I feel so sad when I think of what you lost out on in life, but as of lately, I have been trying to look at your loss differently. I'm trying to make my heart realize how happy and whole you are with the Lord. I make myself see you smiling and laughing with Jesus, enjoying every experience of heaven. Your death has not been the end of you, but the beginning of life for eternity. You get to experience perfect peace and joy that I cannot touch until I am with you, in the presence of the Lord.

It has taken me almost thirty one years to really grasp the beauty that surrounds this world. True beauty. I looked out my window a couple of days ago, and watched the rain fall from the clouds. I then looked at the bush that had been growing all summer right before my eyes. It captured every rain drop, as it quickly rolled and dripped from leaf to leaf. It reminded me of how the Lord holds my every tear. Then, I watched the rain run down the window, just like the tear drops that run down my cheeks when I cry for you. It was a beautiful moment. The Lord showed through nature, that He holds it all. My tears/laughter, joy/sadness, you/me. Through Him, we are still together.

You lived more than fifteen minutes within my arms, but 19 weeks and 3 days within my womb. You have given me joy and love that will carry me throughout the years... into eternity.

I love you Isaiah Christopher Ross. Happy Birthday son.

Love,
Mommy


Romans 15:13
Now the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that ye may abound in hope, through the power of the Holy Ghost.

Remembering Five Years Ago....

Five years ago, tomorrow, my son Caleb had to have a brain tumor removed. I have copied and pasted the same post I originally wrote four years ago. I decided a long time ago not to write this post over, because the experience was extremely emotional and I find it very hard to put into words.

I still have times when I have an anxiety/panic attack when Caleb tells me that he doesn't feel good. It just sets the fear in me all over again, taking me right back to that moment in time when I thought that I might really loose my precious son. There are no words to sum up this experience. Here is my post...

First, I need to start out by saying how emotional this post is for me. I'm very teary eyed every time I talk, write or think about my son Caleb and all that he has endured. Five years ago, my oldest son Caleb had to have major brain surgery to remove a golf ball size tumor.

I want to share with you the short version of Caleb's story. There are too many things to recap, things I don't even know how to put into words. The whole experience has been unforgettable in every way.

Caleb was six years old when this happened. He was having headaches on and off for about a year. Before we found out that he had a brain tumor, he was starting to have new signs of problems, other than just headaches. When he laughed, he would say that his head hurt while we were playing around with him. A couple of days prior to finding out, he couldn't walk very fast either.

On a Saturday night at 1:00am he woke up screaming in pain. I took him to the ER immediately. After sitting up in the bed for a little while, he was all smiles, not hardly any pain. He had some molars coming in, and so I asked the doctor if that could be causing the headaches. He said it could be possible. The doctor offered a CAT scan, which I turned down. I asked him how long it could wait until it was absolutely necessary. He said no longer than a week. I know, you are probably thinking that I'm crazy for not getting it. I thought that he would have to have an IV and be put through a bunch of painful tests. I was terrified!

The next night at 1:00am he woke up screaming again. I picked him up out of his bed and took him to the ER immediately. We took him to have a CAT scan right after he was signed in. The doctor said that the scan had to be sent through the web to Australia, because there weren't any doctors there at night to read it. I knew that something was really wrong. It's a mother's tuition, you just know when something is wrong. So I laid in Caleb's bed holding him ever so tightly, and was praying, praying and praying.

A few hours later, the doctor came in with the nurse, and if anyone has been in the hospital and received bad news, you already know that the doctor always brings a nurse with him when it's not good! He said, " I don't know how to say this." I didn't even sit up. I knew. He is going to tell me that my little boy has a brain tumor. He continues, " There is a mass in his head." He showed me where it was in Caleb's head. It was in the region controlling coordination. He had asked me if I want to see the scan. I replied, "yes." I remember staring at the picture of the CAT scan, and I said, "so does this mean he's going to die?" The doctor said, "I really can't tell you that." I could see the outline of his face on the screen, that's when the whole thing became "real" to me.

I remember calling my husband, who was at home with my other boys, and I began shaking uncontrollably. I made some more calls to Caleb's father, grandma and our pastor. (Yes, Caleb has a different dad. Nothing I'm proud of... the divorce that is. I was previously married. I was eighteen, way to young... sad situation, but we are able to be civil now, which many parents of divorce are not able to do.) Anyway, plans were made promptly to have Caleb taken to DeVos Children's Hospital in Grand Rapids.

Before Caleb was taken to have a three and a half hour MRI, I laid in his hospital bed with him. He fell asleep, and I just looked at every part of his sweet face. I sang some songs. Prayed, prayed and prayed. I knew that they were going to keep him totally sedated from the MRI all the way through surgery. This was going to be the last time that I was ever going to talk and hold him alive... if he didn't make it through that surgery alive. (tears....) At that moment, I thought about all of the good times, and everything that I wish that I would have done differently.

The nurses woke him up around 11:30pm on May the 22nd. and told him that they were going to give him a little nap. I got to tell him "I love you," and then the doctor started putting the medicine in his IV to sedate him. After that, the doctor gave him a medication that stopped all muscle controls. He was then put on a respirator. Yes, I watched, until he went limp from the muscle medicine. I walked out to the nurse station in the ICU, and quietly wept. When they were finished getting him set up, they wheeled him to MRI. I sat in his room for three and a half hours. When he came back, his ears were filled with tears. At that point, I felt like I was literally dying. I felt helpless. I asked if he was crying, the nurse said that it was the medication that does that to the eyes. To this day, I just don't believe that.

I sat by his bed, in a hard chair, and held his hand all night long. To watch his lungs get pumped up with air by a machine, was overwhelming. He would keep waking up and try to take the tube out, and the nurse would have to come in and give him more sedatives. I can't imagine waking up and not breathing on my own, and having a tube down my throat at the age of six. After going through the night and half the morning like that, the doctor came and got him at 10:30am on May the 23rd. Our pastor was there that morning and prayed over Caleb. I walked down the hall by his bedside until we came to the "double doors." I told him how much I loved him, and then they wheeled him through the doors. I stood there and watched them take my baby away. I watched him until I couldn't see him anymore. I broke down right there in the hall. I had never felt so empty in my entire life!

I sat in the waiting room with a bible in my hands. One of the nurses came in every hour and told me how he was doing. He did great! After four and a half hours, Caleb was brought back to the ICU, and I got to be there when he woke up. To hear him say that he knew where he was and who he was...... well, that was just pure bliss. I stayed by his side for five days straight. He had a shunt that had to be removed before he left, and that was pure, well you know, torture. He got to go home after five days. To go home so soon after brain surgery, that was a real blessing. Extremely scary too.

The doctors said that he was fortunate the tumor had a sac around it that didn't allow it to spread. I am certain that God had something to do with that! The tumor was benign. The doctors don't know what caused Caleb's tumor, but it likely had been there his whole life.

Through this whole nightmare, I have learned and grown so much. Life just "looks" different. I can say for 100 % that it had put the fear of God in me. Just knowing how much our lives are truly in His hands. It is completely up to the Lord when we will go and be with Him and all of His glory.

For the first year after Caleb's surgery, you could find me on my floor praying to God at 1:30 in the morning, every time he would wake up at night. I had been so traumatized through the whole ordeal, I had a really hard time going to bed at night, because that's when he had woke up screaming and we ended up at the ER with a brain tumor. Now, you can find me on my floor, kneeling beside my bed, thanking God for His unspeakable gift..... the healing of my son.

Thank you Lord for my sweet precious Caleb..... Thank you.