Celebration and Perspective

Sorry it's been so long! I've been without internet...

It's been more than a month, but I really wanted to share what occurred on Ethan's birthday. The weeks leading up to Ethan's birthday were miserable and lonely. The memories of his passing became more vivid as his birthday approached. On November 12th (Thursday) I remembered how Ethan was born on a Thursday, and every time I looked at the clock memories surfaced as to what happened that same moment the year before. It was dreadful. The emotions were still so raw - as though I was experiencing it all again. I was not looking forward to the next day thinking that Ethan's actual birthday would be much more difficult.

Early Friday morning, my cousin stopped by. She brought a fabulous birthday cake in memory of Ethan. I was so grateful, and touched, that she had remembered. But I was also grateful for the new perspective this simple act gave me. Immediately I realized that Ethan's birthday should not be a day of mourning, but should be a day of celebration. It was the day I became a mother - and the day we became a family.

The remainder of the day - I was overwhelmed with peace and gratitude. Others also remembered my son's birth. One of my friends brought me this beautiful gift:

I feel so blessed to have so many wonderful friends. It is truly amazing how one small unexpected kindness can lift away sorrow. I pray that we might all be mindful of others and find ways to lighten their burdens.

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. *