Sleepless Dark

Months have past (nearly a year) and still I feel the gloom of sorrow. It's like a dark cloud is hanging over me. And though the sorrow fades in and out, the last couple of weeks have been somewhat overwhelming. I know that I typically focus on my strong moments, and my growing testimony - but this deep sorrow is a part of grieving. If I am to share my complete experience this darkness needs to be mentioned. I do, however, realize that if I am to experience extreme joy, I must experience the misery. I am so grateful for the gospel and the hope that it brings me.

Below is a poem that I wrote during one of my many sleepless nights.

Sleepless Dark

In the sleepless dark I lay,
As my heart begins to pray.
Memories I thought were in the past
Are now in the present and will forever last.

As clouds of sorrow take their place,
My heart cries out for amazing grace.
A mist of darkness fills my mind -
It is peace I seek, and am trying to find.

The One who was always near,
Is now gone - I begin to fear.
It is I who has fallen behind.
I search for His face, so loving and kind.

In the sleepless dark I lay,
My aching heart continues to pray.
I grasp for hope as it passes by,
And realize my Friend has always been nigh.

There is hope in His loving embrace,
My Savior, my friend, my Amazing Grace.
Daylight begins to filter the air,
It is true, my friend, He is always there.

--by JaNae Campbell

Holding Baby

The first time I held an infant after losing Ethan is when my aching arms finally found relief. There is nothing more wonderful or comforting than holding one of God's children. I will forever be grateful to this infant's mother. I was sitting in church, when she asked me if I would watch her son while she and her husband joined the choir. Many people would not have asked me in fear that it would hurt my feelings... I am so glad this mother did.

Months later, I was visiting a friend who had given birth to the most beautiful baby girl. My friend handed her daughter to me, and in that same moment her baby smiled. What a wonderful gift!

I wrote the following poem nearly 10 years ago:

A Child's Smile

When a child smiles
The world seems brighter.
Peace and love will fill the air.
There is no sorrow lingering around.

When a smile appears on a young face,
Happiness bursts within every heart.
A melody can be heard from every bird.
The air becomes fresher and sweeter.

There is nothing more wonderful than a smile that
lies upon a child's face.

Caution and Clarification

After my last post, I feel that people may have had the wrong impression. My intention was not to diminish the tragedy of a miscarriage. My intention was to simply point out that there is a difference in losses.

At the time of my miscarriage, it was the greatest trial (and most tragic experience) of my life. But now I feel that it was one of God's ways to prepare me for Ethan's death. I cannot and will not speculate when life begins... With any loss a heart is broken.

Also, I want to point out that I don't get angry with people who don't understand. Their words may hurt, but most often their intentions are good and they are genuinely concerned. Truthfully, if I had not experienced my losses I might have made similar mistakes. And I will most likely continue making mistakes as I have not experienced the trials of others and do not have full understanding of what others endure.

Same, but Different

It always bothers me when people refer to Ethan's death as a miscarriage. Yes there are many similarities. Both are a result of a failed pregnancy. The body and mind undergo a great deal of stress. There is a loss and a mourning related to both situations. But as someone who has experienced both, there is a great deal of difference. With my miscarriage, it was painful, but the loss I experienced was more a loss of the opportunity to be a mother. I did not feel as though I lost a child - just an opportunity. Many other women who have experienced a miscarriage have expressed different feelings, and I have often felt guilty. Should I have had a greater bond?

With the loss of Ethan, I yearn to see him and hold him and know him. I have always found great comfort in knowing that he lived for 48 minutes. We bonded. We saw his face. He had a name. I didn't consider myself a mother until he came along. So having experienced these two losses differently, I become irritated when others refer to Ethan's death as a miscarriage. It is important to me that others recognize that my son lived.

Below are the medical terms used to describe the different types of pregnancy loss:

• miscarriage = 0-12 weeks gestation
  
• late miscarriage = 12-20 weeks gestation
  
• stillborn= death of a baby in the womb after 20 weeks
  
• neonatal death = a baby dies within 28 days of birth (often occurs because a baby had birth defects or was born early)
  

Struggle to Remember

The first several weeks after experiencing Ethan's death I wanted so desperately to forget the events of that awful night. I kept re-living the pain of my loss. I could not shake the images and emotions. I knew that I wanted to remember my son, yet I did not want to re-live the nightmare. I remember someone telling me how difficult it was for her to go to places where she had gone with her lost children because of all the memories. I understood that heartache - but for me the only memory I had of my son was losing him. How could I remember and love my son without experiencing the painful memories? It occurred to me that I had spent five months with Ethan. I tried focusing on the memories of my pregnancy. At first it was difficult to remember anything good - I had experienced 18 weeks of morning (daytime, evening, night) sickness. Soon I remembered the day I discovered I was pregnant and the joy my husband and I experienced as we kept our little secret. I then remembered the day we found out we were expecting a boy and how fun it was to watch Ethan squirm and hide. I remember being home alone, listening to Faith Hill's "I Got My Baby" - I guess you could say Ethan and I shared a dance .

As time went on I began to focus again on my loss, or more appropriately, my experience. What I mean is I began to remember how blessed I have been - all of God's tender mercies, as well as my personal/spiritual growth.
Remembering has become necessary for me to find what peace I receive. Though I do mourn and long for my son (some days are still very painful) I know and understand of God's love for me.


If you are an angel parent, or viewing this blog for the first time, please leave a comment. I would appreciate feedback about how this blog is affecting you, as well as topics you would like addressed about loss.

He Said, God Said

Friends often ask me the reasoning/cause of my losing Ethan. My usual response is to repeat the medical explanation my obstetrician gave me:

Lab tests confirmed that there was an infection in the placenta. This infection caused a premature onset of labor. My doctor suspects that a combination of infection and a condition known as incompetent cervix (this simply means that I have a weak cervix that is subject to premature dilation) led to early delivery. Because I dilated so quickly, it was impossible to stop labor. My son was then born at 23 weeks gestation. Though his heart was strong, his lungs were not. The respiratory team was unable to stabilize Ethan's breathing. Ethan was pronounced dead 48 minutes after delivery.

Though the infection and incompetent cervix may explain the biological cause of my loss, I know that there is a higher purpose and reasoning for my loss - God's reasoning:

The night before I went into labor I received a priesthood blessing. In this blessing I was told that God was pleased with my decision to become a mother. In the hospital, during labor, I was given another blessing. I was told that what was going to happen was God's will. With prayer and contemplation, my testimony has led me to understanding. God trusted me with this experience because he knew that I could handle it. God sent me a perfect spirit who was in need of a body. This special spirit had no need to experience mortal life and had his own mission to accomplish in heaven. He came shortly only to receive the body he needs for exaltation. I am so blessed and privileged to be Ethan's mom. I know that biological factors explained by my doctor were needed in order to fulfill God's plan. *

My Conversation with God

It has become obvious to me that God and I have different plans for my life. I have received a distinct feeling that He does not want me to be a mother, yet, and He is waiting for me to fulfill another purpose first. I have spent several months trying to figure out what this purpose (or direction) is. I have applied for several jobs, have made myself available for service to many neighbors and friends, have volunteered to teach for LDS Family Services, etc. After all this I still receive a feeling that He is waiting for me to accomplish something. I want to be obedient. I want to fulfill my purpose - but I am tired and torn. The only thing I've ever wanted to be is a mother.

As I have mentioned before - I never have asked God "why?" - I know Ethan's life was short because he had his own mission in heaven. I cannot ask "why me?" - I consider myself blessed to be the mother of such a special and perfect spirit.

Of all the things I have learned in this life, I have learned that God's timing is perfect and I should trust in Him. And of everyone I know, I am one of the most patient... but my longing and desire to be a mom and to raise and hold my children makes me weary. I have wanted to be a mom ever since I can remember. I find joy in working with children. I have studied family and human development for eight years. I serve in nursery with 15 children. I teach a parenting class every week. My education and talents have been used for the good of so many others... So when I talk to God my question is not "why" but "when."

"When will I hold my children?"
"When will I raise the family I have been promised?"
"When will I find direction and purpose?"

I continue my conversation with God with a plea:

"Forgive me for wanting something I cannot yet have. But Thou has created my heart, my desires. Thou has blessed me and directed me in my education. Thou has given me a loving husband who adores children. Thou has blessed me with a taste of motherhood. Is it wrong for me to want the one thing I was created for?"

My words are not in anger - I cannot be angry with a Heavenly Father who has always shown His love for me. These words simply come from a heartbroken mother, one who loves God whole-heartedly.