A New Perspective

Sitting on the couch this morning drinking a cup of coffee, I received a text from one of my sisters-in-law. She encouraged me to check out a video on You Tube. I began crying before I even searched the video; that's just how broken my emotional flood gates are currently.

It was a video by a young woman who not only had a stillborn daughter, but was also diagnosed with Stage 4 colon cancer shortly after losing her daughter. It was a video about how although she had been tested time and time again by the devil, she still stood strong in her faith. She told her story from two perspectives: hers and God's. In the video, she proclaimed through her writing how God worked through her to touch his other children...and she was more than okay with that.

You wouldn't believe the amount of messages and emails that I have received from people claiming that Wyatt's story has changed their lives or hearts. I haven't given those claims enough credit because I have been too busy sulking in my own sorrows. I'm simply not there yet, but this woman in this video might just be my new role model.

Her words were perfect and heart warming. Her theories seemed on point and touched a place in my heart that has seemed to have gone dormant. As I sobbed listening to her words, I felt a tiny tinge of peace. Have I been angry at the wrong entity for taking my Wyatt? Have I been asking the wrong questions to the wrong being?

Now, I have NOT been miraculously healed by this lady's video, but she has opened my eyes just a little wider. I am not the picture perfect Christian, and I still have many insecurities about our circumstances, but I've said it once (or twice), and I'll say it again...I still believe. I am confident that if I continue to seek, I shall eventually find what I am looking for.  Stranger things have happened. I believe that I will be reunited with my angel baby one day, and oh boy, I can't wait! With that said, I will still be sad. I will constantly miss our son. I will always long for and want him. My chest will continue to feel pain in uncomfortable and familiar situations. There will always be something missing during my life here on earth, but I can't let it cripple me. I have too much love to share. I have too much passion to tame. And I have too many people who love me regardless of my insecurities, failures, setbacks, and grief-stricken soul.

Please take a few minutes out of your busy day to watch this video. You may disagree with her words and her beliefs, but you have to give her credit for her courage and her strength.

http://youtu.be/I8AshaJQTIk

This girl right here (me) is in awe of Sara's writing and outlook. So, maybe she was right about God using her writing to help his other children... even if I am just another pawn in this game of life--------I have been moved.

Born still is STILL born

Four long months have passed since our baby passed.

Here's a short glimpse into my scattered mind currently:

I no longer appear to have just had a baby. His room is painted and packed away. All baby items are gone or at least covered up in the closets. There is no talk or preparation for "when the baby comes home."

The baby item coupons and emails are now discarded without a second glance, and are often joined with a few tears. I no longer spend hours trying to plan out the future..it's one day at a time around here.

Our thoughts of our son are often clouded with sadness instead of excitement and happiness...Lyla still questions the reason behind watching Wyatt grow so big and strong in Mommy's tummy only to never see him, and to now be forced to visit her brother in a cemetery.

Jealousy still reigns when I see women expecting or new mommies, especially if it happens to be their second, third, or fourth child. How can so many people be lucky enough to have that many live babies?! I've never been the lucky type. And I meant to say "lucky" instead of "blessed." You see, I'm having an issue with the word "blessed" lately. What is it exactly that sets me apart from all you blessed people? What did I do differently than you? Why was I not "blessed" with another "blessing"?  I know that some of you are going to disagree, and say that I am blessed. Blessed with a wonderful husband, precious little girl, nice house, and good health. Right? Then I will simply ask you to put yourself in my shoes (try really hard, although I promise you there's no way you'll get there unless you have BEEN in my shoes) and then try to proclaim that you are blessed. You will quickly look around and realize that the word is often used superficially and frequently used with arrogant pride.

Others often try to include him in conversation (myself included), however, I'm most often left with even more sadness at my backfiring thoughts. Yes, I think it's pretty awesome that he has touched so many people and that others can feel his presence and try to include him in their daily lives...but wouldn't it be so much better if he were here? with me? with his family? Better for who? See, there I go being selfish again.

I try so hard to picture Heaven. I try to picture Wyatt there. I try to imagine him with relatives and loved ones who have gone before us. I want to see him being cared for and loved on and playing on the fluffy clouds. It's just not that easy. I hate thinking that he is alone and so little. I want to hold and take care of my boy. I gasp for air when I think of him crying for me and I can't help him...I can't save him...I couldn't save him.

He was a baby. Our baby.

He was not a horrible tragedy that happened to us or a pregnancy that was lost.

He was not an awful situation or a frightening statistic.

 He was a fully developed little boy with soft skin and silky hair.

He has a name...a beautiful name.

He has a mother and father and big sister and family that already loved him; loved him before they ever saw him.

The love I have in my heart for him and the pain I feel from missing him is enough evidence for me that he existed.

He was born.

Amazing Faith

I am human. God made me that way. He gave me the ability to feel all emotions, including anger, skepticism, and jealousy. How I choose to corral and show those emotions is up to me. From the day our son was taken from us I have had a difficult time professing my faith and"giving all my troubles to Him." I am mad. I am sad. And although I know I will NEVER understand, I keep searching for answers. My soul feels damaged and I feel certain that I am being punished. Me. Me. Me.


I still believe. What helps me to carry on in search of peace and hope amidst the shadows?

I've said it before-- but this wasn't about me. Wyatt has touched the lives and hearts of so many people. People of all ages, races, religions, and ways of life. I'm not just spouting off at the mouth to make myself feel better about this idea. I have been shown time and time again from relatives, friends, or fellow bereaved parents that Wyatt has changed hearts and minds of people...some complete strangers. This week I was shown an unwavering faith by a young girl appropriately named-- Faith. I don't know Faith well, in fact, she wasn't even sure if I remembered who she was (of course I did!). However, she is quickly becoming one of my favorite little people.

With her mother's permission I would like to share an email from this sweet girl that not only brought tears to my eyes, but a big, giant smile to my face:

Dear Miss Krystal,

hi, im faith~dawn's daghter. i am 9 years old, (about to turn ten in sep., i was exited to hear lyla and me were born in the same month!) and i read your blog, along with my mom. my mom told you about her 2 miscarriges, and i know my brother and sister are playing with your sweet baby wyatt right now. i know they love him lots. i know your email must be full, but i have wanted to email you so badly. your blog is amazing in ways i can not explain. your family is in my prayers everyday, and they continue.

i remember a sunday morning, when my family was sitting in the balcony, and i looked at you and lyla smile. that memory comes back to me constanly. your bright blue eyes send happieness through my heart.

i have recently read the "am i still a big sister?" post, and it is amazing your words are in the perfect place in every sentence. lyla has a beautiful face and i truly adore her. she is a golden child.

my mom has told me about the butterflies when i was toddler. the day i read your post about the butterflies i went outside with maria and a butterfly almost landed on my shirt. i went inside with joy, shouting, "wyatt almost touched me!" then one day i went to carowinds with my best friend for my first time. that day was special, and i thought of you and your husband constantly. when we were going back to the car to eat lunch, i found one shiny present, a penny. a perfect penny. i put in my pocket and told my friend about wyatt, and im sure i will tell her more, he is just to perfect to stop. then when we went to ride the rapids, and butterfly landed next to my shoe, i bent down and looked at it, just spelling the name wyatt in my mind. 4 days ago, i was outside helping my dad and a butterfly landed a 3 feet in front of me. i moved to it and it almost touched my foot. i noticed it was blue on the end, the color of your eyes.

i love your blog. its like you are talking to me. my penny jar grows and grows. i will send you a picture. there is a poem that i wrote that you will see on the jar. its not as good as yours though... anyway wyatt is awlways in your arms miss krystal, always. you have 2 children. maybe not in your home, but always in your heart. i am going to read your blog today, i promise. thank you for reading and sorry its so long. oh and my first boy i ever have will be named wyatt.:) i love him. i cant wait to read your next post. thank you.


faith victoria

 

WOW.  Right?!

 

If that precious email doesn't give you hope for the future, I'm not sure anything will. This little lady's testament helps me to believe that our Wyatt's life wasn't in vain and that even though it has come at great expense (our expense), good things are happening because he existed.

 

Faith has shown tremendous faith. At the young age of 9 (almost 10 ;) ) she is able to not only understand the scale of such a situation, but to strive to do something about her feelings...not to mention the fantastic writing ability that's behind those keystrokes!

 

I replied with this:

 

Dear Faith-

 

Thank you so much for taking time out of your day to email me with your sweet thoughts. You are so very sweet to keep us in your prayers and to think of our family often. You are one special little girl yourself, you know. :) I, too, remember seeing you in church and can remember that you always had a beautiful smile on your face. I admire your ability to understand the magnitude of our loss and to feel the need to make contact with me. It takes a lot of courage and kindness to write the things you have and to think the thoughts you have. Your compliments are too very sweet and you made my day a whole lot brighter by reading your email. :) You are an amazing writer at the young age of 9 (almost 10) and I believe you will become even more amazing with time. I hope that you have a great start to the new school year and keep that fabulous attitude that you have shown through this email. You have a very kind soul. Much love to you, sweet girl.

 

Krystal

 

 

And the last response that I would like to share from this amazing child of God:

 

 

Dear Miss Krystal,

Thank you for emailing me back, I greatly appreciate it. I keep reading your blog, and it's amazing. You are such an amazing writer, I want to be an amazing writer just like you when im older. I talk to your Wyatt in my prayers. He has touched so many people in this world, your son as changed so many lives, your son is a blessing to you, and so many other people. I am going to make a picture of Wyatt's name and an airplane. It will be next to my bed. My mom said that it was so sweet that you would want to include me in your blog, and she says yes,its okay if you use my email. She will call you soon. I will send you a picture of our penny jar, and heres a little poem I wrote all by myself! :

Dear Wyatt,
your home is in our hearts,
you and me, we'll never
part. your still living, sweet as can be,
just not down here, not with me.
your mommy and daddy need a smile,
go stop and visit them, and stay for a while.

There's the poem. It's not as good as you but i tried! Anyways tell Mr. Waylon that I pray for you and him, and tell Lyla she is ADORABLE!! And Miss Krystal, your such an amazing person. I hope you are having a good day, and I will pray for you and your family. Thank you for reading, and my mom will contact you.

 

 

 

Faith- I want to thank you again for all of your sweet comments as well as the bravery you have shown by reaching out to me. Your writing is awesome, and your poem is perfect. Keep up the good work...I have a feeling you will be rewarded for your kindness and love for others.

 

 

I simply HAD to share this with the world. If someone as young as Faith can see clearly in troubled waters, then what's stopping the rest of us? Although, I am FAR from healed, I am pleased to say that every little smile helps, and Faith provided me with a whole bunch of 'em! :)

 

Faith has shown me how amazing faith truly is. 

Where is the glue?

One moment life is wonderful and full of love and hope, and within seconds all of that can be shattered into a million pieces. Pieces so tiny and confusing that one is left on the ground amongst the broken bits trying to piece them together again...but where's the glue? Who's to say that another storm with huge gusts of wind won't just come along and ruin your progress?

Nothing in this world is promised.

It has almost been 4 months. Time is moving on. The condolences have slowly stopped and everyone has continued on with their daily lives. Most days are okay. We are existing...but that's not an easy task. The puzzle pieces are finding their way back together, but they are not secure. I'm not sure they ever will be. Everyday is a new journey. Everyday is still full of tears.

I realized today that I am still very bitter. I'm bitter and selfish. I'm angry that our life was put into a blender and I just want my baby.


I've heard just about every sweet (and full of good meaning, I'm sure) comment about why God chose MY baby to take and MY family to face this storm. "He doesn't give you more than you can handle." (Am I superwoman and didn't know it?)  "He only gives his hardest battles to his strongest soldiers." (So is everyone who has never felt this way weak?)  "Everything happens for a reason." (cringe).  I could go on and on. And I get it. I realize that most people are confused about the right things to say in such situations or have no clue what it feels like to have something so precious taken from them, but patronization is not the way to go. Some of the most comforting words from people after our loss have been simple, "I'm sorry." "I can't even imagine." and bluntly, but truthfully stated, "This sucks." Yep. This sucks.

It sucks because I put in my time for this baby. It sucks because I was teased with the thoughts of a perfect little family for over 9 months. It sucks because I never got to feel his warm breath on my neck. It sucks because our daughter has had to learn life lessons WAY too early. It sucks because everyone looks at me differently (it's okay, I would too). It sucks because I feel guilty for talking about our loss because I don't want to drag others down with me. It sucks because I have a fear of getting my hopes up for anything anymore..and I mean anything. It sucks because I feel like I can't do enough for our lil man. My arms are bound...but my heart is not.

My heart continues to mend after basically being ripped from my chest and thrown into a garbage disposal. I'm afraid to work too hard on putting it back together because I don't know where the damn glue to keep it together is.

Penny Jar Challenge- Update

"If there ever comes a day we can't be together, keep me in your heart, I'll stay there...forever."
-Winnie the Pooh-

Just wanted to take a moment to share some of the pictures that people have so graciously sent me of their penny "finds" and their special jars...

Here's to hoping you all fill your jars! :)

Butterflies

May the wings of the butterfly kiss the sun
And find your shoulder to light on,
To bring you luck, happiness and riches
Today, tomorrow and beyond.
~Irish Blessing

Sometimes I feel as if I am reaching. Reaching for things to make me feel at peace or calm my sorrows. When the wind blows and I imagine it to by my Wyatt rubbing my cheek, or when I find a penny lying on the ground and I jump for joy at the thought of a simple gesture sent from the heavens. I realize that most of my family and friends believe it to be my way to grieve and they simply support my thoughts, and I'm okay with that notion. I have to do something to overcome the darkness and make my way to the light, and if imagining things will help me then so be it. I will leave it up to you to call it what you will, but for me it's faith.

Butterflies are my newest obsession. I had always thought of them as beautiful creatures, but I had never paid much attention to them other than trying to chase them as a child. Butterflies are known for eluding capture with grace and ease. However, as of late, we have had some very interesting encounters with the beautiful beings. The butterflies have found a way into our hearts and we have welcomed the advancement. I will divulge all of the details of our butterfly experiences in a few separate stories below.

1. Lyla and I took a trip to the mail box (quite a walk from the house) one day about a month ago. On the way back  she announced that there was a bug on my back. So, of course, I quickly glanced back with a bit of terror in my thoughts. To my surprise, there was a beautiful butterfly on my shoulder. I continued to walk. The butterfly left my shoulder and landed on various other parts of my body, all as I continued on the journey towards the house. We both giggled at the interesting creature as it encircled us. At one point the butterfly landed on my foot and stayed still long enough for me to capture a picture.

2. The very next day, Lyla and I were out watering the flowers when a butterfly made its way to my baby girl and landed ever so softly on her forearm. She chuckled with excitement. We both stood with silence as we watched it open and close its wings. Eventually, we went on with our watering, and our new friend took flight.

3. I received an email from my great aunt a few weeks ago and I will include an excerpt from that email. (I had yet to tell anyone of my recent butterfly encounters).

"When I built my house seven years ago, few trees were left and there was no shrubbery to attract butterflies and bees. But a couple of years ago, in the spring, I noticed a while butterfly -- just the one. I thought of it as my sister's soul and it was a comfort to me. This spring, for the first time, I was surprised to see a smaller white butterfly fluttering alongside the larger one, and I immediately thought of your little Wyatt."

4. As I was browsing Facebook recently I came across a post from a former co-worker. This sweet lady and her husband had lost their little girl almost 4 years ago. She lived a beautiful life for 39 days. I will include the details of her post below:

"So I wanted to share my hubby's post but for some reason it wouldn't let me share so I'm copying and pasting it. This is not the first time this has happened either, about 3weeks ago while golfing 3 butterflies landed on his hat and wouldn't leave him alone. The other guys he was golfing with even said that it was the strangest thing.

Dan's post:
So my beautiful wife Lisa (who I call my butte...

rfly) believes that when a butterfly lands on you, you are being visited by a loved one that has left this life to go and be with our Lord. Well today I believe I was visited by my little angel Jazmyne "Jazy". I was sitting outside work and a butterfly was flying around me for a few seconds then landed on my hand for a minute or two. I was able to bring the butterfly up close enough to look in "her" eyes. It really did put a smile on my face. I love you so much Jazy and miss you like crazy! ;-)"

Mommy, Daddy, & Sweet Jazy



Baby Jazmyne



5. Waylon was outside doing yard work when he noticed a butterfly land in one of our blackberry bushes. He slowly walked over. The butterfly spread out its wings, and he was able to rub it! He was able to pet a butterfly?! Yes.

Okay, so if you think I'm crazy, you are more than welcome to stop reading. With that said, I now feel excitement and joy when I see butterflies. One more coping mechanism? Maybe. But I have to believe that it's something more.

We had been making plans for a memorial garden for Wyatt since after the funeral. We had received an overwhelming amount of stones, plants, and outdoor decor as gifts from friends and family and wanted to put them to good use. We wanted a place that we could go to simply sit and think about our baby boy; a place all his own at our home. We threw around many ideas and were almost set on one when the butterflies began to make their appearance. So a memorial garden in the shape of a butterfly it was!

The outline (with big sister doing her part)

Time for the mulch

Lyla testing out the stepping stones

A dogwood and a butterfly

Azalea, thermometer/rain guage, and stone

Rose plant

"Your memory is my keepsake, with which I'll never part. God has you in his keeping, I have you in my heart."

"Sweet little flower of heavenly birth, you were too fair to bloom on earth."

An airplane birdhouse

The finished product (for now)

Beautiful and graceful, varied and enchanting, small but approachable, butterflies lead you to the sunny side of life. And everyone deserves a little sunshine. ~Jeffrey Glassberg