Looking Back and Moving Forward

On Friday we honored the first anniversary of Emma's death. I have been anticipating this event for several weeks now with a bittersweet mixture of resumed grief and a positive sense of moving forward. Tim and I took a few hours off from work on Friday to have lunch and make the drive to Herington to visit Emma's grave. We planted tulips next to her grave, since Tulips will always bloom each year around her birthday. Tulips were also the flowers that I chose to carry in her honor at her funeral and the flowers that all of the family members placed on her casket to be buried with her. Not a spring will go by from now on that I will not see tulips and think of Emma.

While Tim and I were at the grave, we took the time to go through my boxes of things we have collected to remember her. It has been a while since I have gone through these boxes, which is a mark of healing, I suppose. Going through these items was definitely sad for the two of us, but it was also an experience of healing. One year later I can go through the boxes without sobbing. I can look at the few Earthly reminders that we have of Emma and remember her with a sense of warmth. In the past few days and weeks, I have relived almost every experience that I had through Emma's birth and the days beyond. Now as I reflect on these experiences one year later, I certainly remember the heartbreak and the sadness, but what is significant is that I can look at these experiences with happy remembrance as well. All of the events that surrounded this chapter of tragedy in our lives have been somewhat revised in my memory with a much more positive spin. The positive, warm memories stand out in my mind due to the love of friends and family that surrounded Tim, Emma and I and lifted us up through our darkness.

As we look back, we remember Dr. Evans, the maternal fetal medicine specialist who walked us through every step from the initial bad news to our discharge from the hospital. He is one of only a handful of doctors in Kansas that has the training to deal with high risk pregnancies, so it is not surprising that his patient load is enormous. Still, he took three hours of his time to go through every option with us, look up research in personal library and help navigate us through the hardest decisions of our lives. Through it all, he treated us like we were his only patients, though I knew we were just one couple of many. When I was in the hospital, every one of his staff came up to the ward to visit me--from the ultrasound tech to his nurses. This small gesture really made an impression. We were one of many, but we were made to feel special and loved by a wonderful staff led by a truly remarkable doctor.

Shortly before Emma was born, Corey and Kelly Boernsen moved in to our house for a few weeks. This was a blessing in our lives at exactly the time that we needed it. I met Kelly for the first time and it seemed like we had known each other for our entire lives. Corey and Kelly (with the creative help of Ryan and Nancy Kules) orchestrated the melon smashing event that I will never forget. (Sometimes I just want to go do it again simply because it was fun and completely childish.) Standing in our driveway in the middle of the night with melons, an axe, a a hammer, a bag of tomatoes and our closest friends and family was a memory I will carry for a lifetime. Now, one year later, I recently had the opportunity to fill out a background check questionnaire for Kelly's new job. When it asked me how long I had known her, I had to catch myself and fill out the truth-only one year. It seemed a little hard to believe given the special place that she and Corey have in our lives.

LTC Sherri Franklin walked beside me every step of the way through the entire pregnancy with Emma. She went out of her way to take care of me in every conceivable way. She took care of my physical needs as a health care provider, and also served my emotional needs as a friend and mentor. She visited me an hour away in Topeka, after working a full day herself and still having a family in need of dinner. She called to check up on and helped me keep my head up when I needed that strength. On Emma's birthday this year, she remembered to call and even sent flowers. LTC Franklin is a woman who is truly filled with a lot of love. Her patients are lucky to have a provider with such love and compassion. It is her love that defines her as a person and also as a provider and sets her apart from everyone else. I owe a lot to this very special person.

Chaplain Diana Crane also walked with me through this entire experience. She has been a chaplain and a friend to me in the two years that we have known each other. She's often overbooked in her service to the Lord, but she found the time to help me co-found a pregnancy and infant loss support group for our hospital. Working with this group has helped me find some positive meaning to our tragedy and assist others who have walked a sad mile in my shoes. Diana took care of all of the funeral arrangements and officiated the ceremony. Her words brought comfort to us, not just because they were spoken from someone so dear to us, but because she has a special way of putting together just the right sentiment for each moment.

Tim and I also felt surrounded by the love of our family. We had so many family in the house for Emma's funeral that we had to arrange a sleeping chart to account for all of the floor space and bed space in our house. Our family cooked for us and helped with all of the details of daily living that we didn't have the energy to fulfill around the time of the funeral.

Our list can go on and on. We were surrounded by love by so many friends and family who called, sent flowers and cards and attended the funeral. We anticipated a small memorial with pretty much just family, but were greeted by a church full of people on the day of Emma's funeral. None of these people knew Emma, so we can only judge their presence have been a sign of love and support for our family. We felt incredibly blessed.

For some reason I have had a lot of church hymns in my head lately. When I reflect on this experience, I can't help but sing to myself the old tune "Love Lifted Me."

"When nothing else could help...love lifted me." This song reminds me of the love that surrounded us through our experience and lifted us up in our sadness. This love was powerful enough to completely reshape our entire memory of these events, thus allowing us to remember more of the acts of love, kindness and friendship than the moments of grief and sadness. To all of our friends and family, we thank you for that.

. Tulips outside our house bloomed on Emma's birthday