Two ways of seeing

There are two ways I see Jonan Eilam when I close my eyes. Both are the same physically. He has the same body that could not hold his heart, the same muscular legs, the same head that struggled to close, the same gorgeous feet and toes, the same little nose, and the same right arm that I just love. But my heart sees his one of two ways depending on the place I am in.

The first one is when I am sad and weeping. When I close my eyes and see him I see him as helpless.  I see him with a body that was not able to sustain life. I see my son who I wish I could have helped. I feel helpless. I wish it could have been different for him. These are the only times I have asked God why. He is so precious, why Lord, did it have to be this way? I tell Jonan I am so sorry. I love you. I would have done whatever I could, but that was not the way God had. I feel like the amount of love I have for him alone should have made it all better, but this was not the way God had.  God had a call on Jonan’s life that I was called to respect and help accomplish, not to change. Joy and deep sorrow.  I feel aching from a place I didn’t know I had inside of me.

The second way of seeing him is when I see him and I feel so proud.  I see a boy that should not have lived as long as he did; a boy with strength to bring glory to God in his powerlessness that most have not done in their power.  I see my first son with my amazing husband Jeff. I see he has Jeff’s legs and gorgeous feet. I see a miracle of only a half-pound.  I see that he is real, he was not just contents. I see God’s miraculous way of taking love between a man and woman and creating life. I even see a little bum that would never get spanked.  I see beauty, such beauty. I feel overwhelming gushes of love that I have never known I would feel in my life. Oh, what love.

These are the two ways I see him when I close my eyes. 

All the scary things I can think of

In the last 6 days I have walked through all the scariest things I could think of for my current season in life. There are many other things I have listed already to write about on this blog from this week; but for tonight, for all the ways I feel I must let go right now, even these scary things I want to remember.  

·        Hearing the doctor say again “let me have another doctor look with me”

·        The stillness of an ultrasound

·        The words “no heartbeat”

·        Giving birth to my first child

·        Contractions

·        Three attempts at an IV, one blown vein

·        Being induced

·        Facing the very real  possibility of severe bleeding because of my son’s condition and his short cord

·        Telling my parents their grandson has died

·        Getting an epidural

·        Feeling milk arrive for a child who will never need it

·        Holding my first baby who won’t feel my touch

·        Talking to my baby who cannot hear my voice

·        Planning a funeral for my own child

·        Choosing what will go in my son’s casket

·        Feeling my heart break in a way I have never, ever known

·        Longing so deeply for something that can simply never be

Not all things this week are this sad and scary. God has been present through each of these, as have many loving people. But tonight my heart is lamenting and heavy. I cannot fool it, nor do I want to. Even David poured out his heart in honesty before the Lord. For though these things have been scary and real, yet I still set my eyes on Him.

sometime around 9:10pm

Jonan Eilam Pelletier was born into heaven


Mom is doing great


Tears have been shed


Prayer have been answered


Thank you all for your support

UPDATES

Hello all.  Jeff here...

Since Kimberly is in the thick of it.  I am updating our family blog please head over here to see the updates as I am able to.

pelletierianadventures.blogspot.com

Silence & Acceptance

I feel indebted to God for the way He is forming in me a love of silence. But it has not always been this way. As long as I can remember I have been energetic, loving progress, efficiency, and productivity.  When things did not go as planned I jumped right up and figured out another way to make it happen. Hearing that something could not work out only energized me; rarely discouraged me. This was very helpful when serving as student council president, getting promoted in corporate America, anytime my car broke down, etc. etc. I can be quite resourceful.

As much as this can be a virtuous characteristic, and certainly offer hope and energy in challenging moments, this virtue can harbors an ugly shadow. Lurking in this shadow I see busyness, anxiety, a “weight of the world” feeling, sometimes emptiness and even anger. I suspect these arise out of a sense of needing to control, or at least not need to rely on another.

See, somewhere along the way I caught the idea that acceptance of any circumstance was synonymous with giving up and weakness. Maybe this explains why I have struggled throughout my life with the “weaker” of society. Those that don’t cut it in our culture because of money, physicality, education, nationality, family, laziness. Certainly you can do something about your circumstances? Get up, move on, enough with the handouts. This can really annoy me. I have so often not known how to relate to someone who appeared to be so different from me. And truth be told there are likely many who could “do more”; but rest assured none of us are outside the realm of ruin in some area of our lives without God and supportive community.

Without embracing the weak parts of myself, I have never been able to embrace the weakness, or sometimes just plain need, of another.  We are not meant to be entirely self-sufficient. If capable, emotionally mature is appreciated, taking responsibility for our actions is right, working for our livelihood is good and noble. But even as a highly functioning person of society I will never possess all aspects of the diversity of personality; I will never be brilliant in all disciplines; I will never have perfect faith, intuition, or wisdom.  I will grow toward maturity in many ways, but I will never be entirely self-sufficient.  Thank God.

Somewhere in this pondering is why I am thankful to God for growing in me a love for silence and acceptance. I cannot attain the latter without the former. There cannot be acceptance in my soul without first silence in my soul, for one begets the other.

 Around my mid-twenties I began to take solitude retreats. I needed to be quiet. I felt a keen emptiness that needed filling. I wanted God in a way I couldn’t explain. So in the spirit of Henri Nouwen and others I often read, I began retreating annually.

The first one I went on I brought 9 books.  Yes, 9 books for a retreat that would last less than 48 hours. Including a Bible dictionary and commentary for all the in-depth study I would do on my breaks from reading the other 7 books. The first night a sister at the retreat center where I was staying came to my room for my first ever experience of spiritual direction. With wisdom and gentleness she listened to me and gave me one thing to do. Put away all my books for the entire weekend and focus on one Psalm (I guess that’s 2 things). I think I broke out in cold sweats right there. I am serious. I was so scared of what I would do with my mind and body with almost 48 hours of only one Psalm. But I chose to submit to her direction and packed up my books and slid them out of sight. She left my room after a short prayer, I read the Psalm one time, and slept like I had not slept in, potentially, my entire life. Peace.

The remainder of the weekend was filled with some anxiety, but my walks throughout their beautiful grounds, my silent prayers, my crying out to God, and pouring over just one Psalm produced something I had yet to experience in my entire life. Silence. It was something in me now. I remember not wanting to drive off of the grounds of the retreat center because my being felt so filled up. As anxious as I had been to enter silence, I am found it was actually silence which was entering me.  And slowly this new, strange fruit of acceptance began to grow.  

Throughout the years of extended retreats and sometimes just minutes a day in these unhurried silences, theses aforementioned shadows are coming into the light (marriage also sped up that process, but that’s a different blog post). I am always in fear when I first meet a shadow, but then I get to know it individually. I learn of its origins and often times why it chose to camp out with me.  Sometimes I grieve for those reasons.  I let it know that I understand, but that I still don’t really like it hanging around. And in this interchange something happens in me, something I would call acceptance. The shadow doesn’t always go running for the hills, but acceptance does appear to aggravate it. Shadows don’t have the same scary power when they are known and light can be cast on them at any moment.

God grant me the serenity 
to accept the things I cannot change; 
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

There is more to this beautiful prayer. But I have found for me to grow in maturity that I need to “accept the things I cannot change”. It is different for each person, and probably in different seasons. My husband and I feel this is split up for the 2 of us perfectly, I need more of the first part, and he needs more of the second part “the courage to change the things I can”.  And both of us need the wisdom to know the difference.

So I accept these weak parts of me; the shadows that can lurk around me:

·        I can use busyness as a means of escaping pain

·        I can think my ideas or ways are the only hope of a situation working out in the “right” way

·        I can feel the weight of my decisions will affect much more than they actually will (as if God’s plan can completely foil if I am not perfect)

·        Emptiness can drive me to fill my time in odd ways

·        I can use anger as a way to cover deep hurts

These weakest parts in me become places where I find God in a special way. Where I am reminded of my need for him. Where His power is made perfect.

As I accept my own weakness, others’ weaknesses do not scare me as they once did. God is put in His rightful place in my heart, and I see how His grace covers and works within and around the many shadows we cast on one another. Even weaknesses which are not shadows, but are weaknesses of physicality or mind become something I can embrace rather than turn away from in my fear. A new commonality is being born between me and others. Between me and Jonan Eilam. His seeming weakness is a precious place of new life for me and others. God, like He promised, is using weak things of the world to shame the strong (1 Cor. 1:27) and show us more of Himself. 

"Everybody Out!"

This morning I am up watching the beautiful snow as Jeff snoozes late.  He doesn’t often get this, so I am happy for his extra rest this morning. I am reading and thinking of what I want to write today and thought of something that just makes me smile so much every time it happens. And I get to write about my husband while he is snoozing, so he won’t see this post before I publish it… hehehe J 

Ever since Jeff and I have been dating he has opened the car door for me.  Rarely, if ever, do I remember opening my own door to this day. Actually, at one point in our marriage I did ban him from opening the door. I was so angry at him for something; I told him he could no longer have that privilege.  Oh, this makes me laugh this morning. Anyways, these days he still opens my door when we are going anywhere, and when we arrive, he looks sort of off in the distance and says “Ok, everybody out!”…then smiles and we all 3 get out of the car.  Inevitably, this brings a huge smile to my face and a fun reminder of our growing family. 

Great things You have done

“Great things are they that you have done, O Lord my God! How great your wonders and your plans for us! There is none who can be compared with You.  Oh, that I could make them known and tell them! But they are more than I can count.” Psalm 40:5-6

I have been feeling this verse for a couple days now. I read the entirety of psalm 40 out loud with Jonan this morning before our worship time.  It is full of God’s faithfulness to those who call on Him.  I want to recount, this day, some of the amazing things God has done this week for all to rejoice with us:

·        There was a man who emailed us this past week about a conversation he had with his father concerning our decision with our son. This man’s father had assisted an abortion for his unwed daughter many years ago. Our friends writes this of his conversation with his father this week:

“I told them about your decision to carry your baby as long as it didn't endanger your own life and he started to protest saying what's the use. I replied "dad, they want to provide a safe place for that baby as long as he is alive (and kicking). My dad stopped arguing (for the first time in more than 30 years) and said something like "well, I suppose so".  Already little Jonan has touched a hard heart.”

·        Our neighbor came to us two days ago in tears sharing her tender heart about how the email and news of Jonan has really moved her. She said Jonan’s life is inspiring her and she wants to connect with God after many years of not having this in her life. She said she wants to know where we go to church. We are excited to have her come with us and connect with God as Savior. What a beautiful story!

·        I have received 2 jobs offers this week and have accepted both (each are part-time). This is an incredible answer to prayer for us as this time, as well as for me as I walk in patient waiting in the next uncertain months. One position is at Wheaton College and the other at our church, Church of the Resurrection. Both are great environments where I know numerous people already and feel comfortable. This is a real blessing to me at this time.

·        Three amazing friends from church came to our house a few nights ago and deep cleaned out home. What was I doing? Lying on my bed as they brought me tea and a plate full of goodies they brought with them.  Wow. And to top it all off…my husband initiated this evening as a blessing to me in a very weary week. I am so thankful for you and so proud of who you are, Jeff.

·        A friend of mine in a graduate program here at Wheaton is a brilliant woman. She is here to study from China, where she and her family are part of the underground church.  She will go back into this challenging political and religious place soon. Here is what she writes:

“You can't imagine how touched I am when reading your email... When my mom went to do the ultrasound for the fifth month, I was examined as an infant without brain... This kind of kid can't live long, and with low IQ... The circumstance at that period of time was that each family were required to have only one kid... As a result, my parents were encouraged to terminate my life, so that they could have a healthy baby... After discussion, my parents decided to keep me as long as they could, and the whole prayed for me... I could never imagine how great faith they had, and how much they love me, until I read your letter...”

Her story stunned us. And to imagine that Jonan’s life has helped her know so much more the love of her own parents is such a gift to Jeff and I.

·        How can I count all the things the Lord is doing. Cards, food, emails, hugs, etc. etc. etc.

“Oh, that I could make them know and tell them! But they are more than I can count.”

Worship: a whispered calling

This is one of my favorite stories from this past weekend.  Not all moments when God speaks to my heart through His Spirit are they as strong as this, but this time it was. I am convinced God has hears prayers from my heart that have never crossed my lips, barely my consciousness. He really does know our needs before we even ask for them (Matthew 6:8).

Sunday morning Jeff and I woke up and silently lay in bed for I don’t know how long. We knew we would be seeing many who love us at church that morning. Though we so desired that, we knew it could be difficult for us. After a prayer to God to help us receive all He had for us, and to receive from those who love us, we got out of bed and got moving on our day.

As I got dressed, put on make-up (including mascara…why did I do this?), and ate breakfast I had a growing desire to go to church and worship God, with Jonan, through the music that morning. This desire was so strong! I was so excited. I couldn’t wait to get there. The three of us worshipping God together, thanking Him for all He is doing. According to normal fetal development, Jonan can hear at this stage. And though we don’t know if his ears are working properly, at minimum he can feel vibrations and the swaying of my body…so beautiful!

We walk into church and there was a song we sing every week at the beginning of service. As we sang this song it was as if God was whispering right into my ear… “prepare Jonan for heaven with songs and worship”.  There was such a sense of joy and calling in this.  I have been filled up in many ways by God in time of worshipping Him and feel nothing but privileged to help prepare another soul for heaven. I thought, when Jonan enters heaven he will feel at Home, he will recognizes those sounds, he will remember.  And one caveat here: if this conjures up pictures of angels on fluffy clouds, or worse yet, droning churchy music, think again J  Heaven is called heaven for a reason, my friends! Better music than you have ever, ever heard, real angels (valiant, powerful), and God Himself…you know, the One who placed the mountains, braided the rings around Saturn, thought up the blowfish…He just might be fun to meet in person! Ok, back to my story…

During this church service, after communion, our priest and his wife (to clear up confusion on that one, we are Anglican J) brought us aside to pray with us. Catherine shared that in heaven we don’t just go and sit around for eternity, we have work we do there, according to our gifts and skills…joyful work! And when we meet Jonan someday we may be surprised that he has gifts and skills that resemble ours, that he will look like us.  I tucked this in my heart, thinking of my own love for worship, and Jonan’s daddy’s amazing gifts with music…these may be the reasons I am preparing Jonan for this...

Well, we went back to our seats for the remainder of the service and afterwards some friends came to us to hug and cry. After a moment the husband of the couple said he had been praying for us late the previous night and felt really strongly that Jonan was coming to worship with us, that there was a desire in Him to worship God; that there was something great for us to coming as a family, the three of us to worship this morning. (I had shared none of what you just read with him, zero).  So, I told this friend what had been on my mind all morning and how I felt God whisper to me a special calling; that I desired to worship in song with Jonan until he is received into heaven.  Then he said something interesting, he said it seemed to him when he prayed for us that it was possibly more like Jonan putting the desire in me versus me giving this desire to Jonan. He said, sort of like a baby will crave vitamin C so mama will crave orange juice, or baby needs protein so mama craves a burger.  Jonan has a calling to worship, so I crave giving him time with music and songs of worship.  I have never considered a possibility like this.

I enjoy the mysteries of God, but prefer to hang my theological hat on the certainties of the Scriptures. This story is a mystery to me. The cynic in me likes to know that my feelings are coming from a place grounded in truth, not fluffy feel-good Hallmark channel theology (though I have enjoyed some of their movies).   But here I have heard God’s leading, and my desire is to follow. I do not know all about heaven, and when I read the book of Revelation I am only more certain of my confusion concerning heaven, but the bit I do know I hold as Truth, and the rest I will trust to the God described above.

Each morning I spend time worshipping God with Jonan, we sing two particular songs right now. This time fills me up and brings comfort. Someday soon I will miss these moments so much, but for now I will offer myself vulnerably to God and trust He will be there then just as He is for me now. Another gift from my son to me as he lives into his name: Jonan- God is a Gracious Giver. 

"Beautiful Things"

This is the title of the song Jonan and I begin worship with every morning.  It is a wonderful song, it was sang for the first time at church this past Sunday…divinely inspired I might say. I will place a link to it below, but before you listen to it, I want to quickly share what it means to me (Jeff is actually playing it on his guitar right now, how sweet is that? He does not know I am sitting here writing about this exact song).

As you listen to it you may easily understand why most of this song rivets me right now. But I the part I want to point out is when the song slows down a bit about 3/4^th  of the ways through, a vulnerable- sounding woman’s voice sings these words “you make me new, you are making me new”.  Though the rest of the song is sang from my heart to God, each time I sing this line I feel like I am singing for Jonan. He is a strong boy, but he is voiceless and vulnerable in this world, and I love being his voice.  I picture Jonan looking into God’s face and singing these words, knowing that he will be made new in heaven, and alive in a way we on earth still long to experience.  At the end of the song they sing these particular words again, and they clap during this part with a fun rhythmic manner.  I love that they clap.  Our boy Jonan, we know has only one arm and heaven will be the first place he could actually clap.   Beautiful things. So, if you have time listen to this song here is the link and the lyrics below. “Beautiful Things” by Gungor.

All this pain
I wonder if I’ll even find my way
I wonder if my life could really change at all
All this earth
Could all that is lost ever be found
Could a garden come up from this ground at all

You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

All around
Hope is springing up from this old ground
Out of chaos life is being found in You

You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

You make me new, You are making me new
You make me new, You are making me new

You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

Carry Me

I awake this morning with a bit of fear again. I haven’t felt Jonan in a couple days…I miss that. The specialist told me yesterday on the phone that is normal; even for fully forming babies regular movement isn’t felt consistently until about 24 weeks, I am in week 22. She was, however, sympathetic to my fears. I so want to feel him this morning. I want him to kick me. When will I ever say that again?
I cry out to God this morning, I am crying now. I read Psalm 139 this morning, as Jonan feels so distant to me in a way I don’t like and I am reminded by this Psalm that he is real, and he is seen by God:

“O LORD, you have searched me and known me!

You know when I sit down and when I rise up;

you discern my thoughts from afar.

You search out my path and my lying down

and are acquainted with all my ways.

Even before a word is on my tongue,

behold, O LORD, you know it altogether.

You hem me in, behind and before,

and lay your hand upon me.

Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;

it is high; I cannot attain it.

Where shall I go from your Spirit?

Or where shall I flee from your presence?

If I ascend to heaven, you are there!

If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!

If I take the wings of the morning

and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,

even there your hand shall lead me,

and your right hand shall hold me.

If I say, "Surely the darkness shall cover me,

and the light about me be night,"

even the darkness is not dark to you;

the night is bright as the day,

for darkness is as light with you.

For you formed my inward parts;

you knitted me together in my mother’s womb.

I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.

Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.

My frame was not hidden from you , when I was being made in secret,

intricately woven in the depths of the earth.

Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them,

the days that were formed for me,

when as yet there was none of them.

How precious to me are your thoughts, O God!

How vast is the sum of them!

If I would count them, they are more than the sand.

I awake, and I am still with you.”

Jonan is seen, known, and being formed by God. I love the Bible. For all the ways it challenges me, it also comforts me. I am thankful for both. True, I don’t know how Jonan is doing today, but this Psalm is nonetheless true. It has been true since the day of conception.
I named this post “Carry Me” because of this overwhelming desire I have this morning to know I am still carrying Jonan this morning. I want to do that for him and don’t feel ready to let go. I put a song on with the same name “Carry Me” ← (click here for the link). It is a prayer sung out to God to be carried through difficult times. A cry to be close to Him. If I, a mother who, yes, loves her son (but I not God or even close!) desire to carry my son in this physically challenging time for him…how much more can I have the assurance that God will carry me, the daughter He sees, knows, and has formed in love?

Initial Email to friends and family

We went in for a routine ultrasound Thursday afternoon to check up and find out the gender of our child. Within 15 short minutes we were sitting with our midwife as she explained some severe abnormalities she was seeing in the ultrasound. Within an hour they had an appointment set up for the next day at Northwestern Memorial Hospital with a maternal-fetal specialist for a level 2 ultrasound to see more of what was going on. That evening Kevin and Karen Miller (our associate priest and executive pastor at our church) met with us at our home, offered comfort and wisdom, and offered to go with us to this important appt. on Friday.

After an hour and a half of ultrasounds, the specialist let us know the following: The baby is a boy (Kimberly really felt this all along). Our son's heart is outside of his chest, as the chest is open and will not close. His skull is open as well, with the brain tissue open to the amniotic fluid. His spine is also open and twisting around itself. His organs are not forming correctly and are small. He also missing his left arm, and has 2 clefts in his pallet. Overall, his diagnosis is that he is not "compatible with life" outside of the womb. There is no specific diagnosis as these abnormalities are not commonly found all together. This is likely some sort of chromosomal problem, that likely began right from the start of life. Nothing could have been done to change this if found earlier and this is not from any specific thing that was done or not done early in pregnancy. It simply is what it is.

We were given 2 choices with his life and this news: we can either terminate the pregnancy or carry him until his life ends. After much prayer and discussion, we have chosen to carry him for as long as he and God decide his life will be. We feel strongly called to be his parents, as he is our son, and we will provide the environment necessary to sustain his life as short as it will be. We love him more than we could have ever imagined. Every ultrasound we can see his heart beating, his legs moving around, and his arm waving at us. He is an incredible little fella enjoying life in his cozy home. Kimberly can also feel him kicking around at times.

This sad news has nearly overwhelmed us, as you can imagine. We have been going through intense emotions all over the spectrum. From weeping and weeping as we have begun to miss the life we had hoped he would have. We long to hold him and be with him in ways we know we will not be able to now. We also have felt joy as we get the privilege to be his parents for the rest of his short life and celebrate him every day as well as the unspeakable joy at naming him, with the Lord's guidance, just this morning (more on that in a minute).

The Lord and the church has already been a blessing for us with meals and various others means of support emotionally, spiritually, etc. We have felt this as well as the presence of God in significant ways. We feel very blessed.

There are some big questions for us in the coming months. We don't how long his life will be or when it will end. We don't know if it will end in miscarriage, a still birth, or if he will live for a minute or two after delivery. The anxiety and uncertainty this brings is something we ask prayer for through the coming months. It is Kimberly's desire to see him live for a couple minutes, to maybe see his eyes open or even a small cry, but as we pray we trust the Lord with the way He will answer. Either way, we will be able to hold him after he is born and say goodbye and rejoice in holding our first child. We will also have a pastoral blessing before his burial, and a little service for those closest to us.

Primarily we do need these prayers, but we want you all to know that if the Lords moves you to do anything in any way, we will joyfully accept that encouragement in any form (a photo, a word of encouragement, a verse, a hug, a thought, a story, etc. etc.). Honestly and sincerely, we don't know everything we need right now, so if the Lord guides you in any way at all, please feel the freedom to follow the leading He gives. Thank you.

We also want you to know that we are open to talking about this. If you see us or call us, or we are hanging out somewhere feel free to ask us how we are, ask any questions that come to mind, or talk about it if you want. Also, don't feel you have to do these things in any manner. We understand this can be awkward not knowing how we are doing or where we are on any given day can make this challenging. We understand that. But know we are open to talking and if, for some reason, it is a difficult day for us, we would gently let that be known, so please don't fear any interactions. We welcome seeing any of you.

The following video introduces our son's name. We named him based on meaning, so every time we speak of him we will remember the Lord and our son in a beautiful way.

Blessings and Peace,

Jeff & Kimberly

Naming Our Son

More Than Contents

Lying in the ultrasound room for the second day in a row we were told, with increasing clarity, the reality of our son’s abnormalities concerning his body. These descriptions, though un-edited in explanation, rested in my heart with the gentleness of a holding a newborn life. I wept, yet loved him unspeakably. The words of the doctor seemed to be in such contrast to our son’s beating heart, which I could see, and to his flailing arm and kicking legs. He was alive and enjoying his time in his temporary home, using fully the body he was given to bear.
Abruptly, the conversation seemed to move into the choice we had to make. Would we terminate this life or carry him? If we terminate, which of the ways would we choose: D&E or induce labor?
I asked for an explanation of each option. Given a theoretical or philosophical discussion about such issues just one day before, I would have easily given a very simply, black and white answer. However, faced with all the fears myself, and within my own body, everything turned grey in a hurry.
To carry him would mean to continue the pregnancy until he passes or I go into labor. There are many unknowns with this, but not many more risks than with any “normal” pregnancy. To terminate would be in one of two ways. I would drink a concoction which would spur on labor and deliver him as any other baby, though not alive. The other way was a D&E, to dilate and evacuate. To be exact: they would “evacuate the contents” of my uterus. The words sounded like attempting to dress a tornado in a little girl’s Easter dress…one very unfitting for the other. I also noted the hole in the wall over to the side of the room labeled “vacuum”. This was not for central vac.
That evening Jeff and I made our decision: we would carry this heartbeat, these kicking legs, this flailing arm, this forming soul, as long as God and he decided his life on earth would be. And we would celebrate his life every single day we had.
I realize now that I believe strongly in the freedom to choose, and I will honor Jonan’s choice.

What about me?

Lest any of you think I am naïve or unaware of the thoughts, fears, pressures, etc. woman go through in a situation like this, may I say that I am very, very human in this:
• What about my body? I will have all this pregnancy weight and recovery…with no baby in my arms.
• But I want to try again, and if I carry him I have to wait longer…my clock is ticking and I want to move on.
• Will others judge me for my decisions, no matter what I choose? I want others to approve of me so much.
• At least if I could breastfeed I could lose the weight faster?
• What will my post-partum experience be like? What about depression? That doesn’t seem right, that I should have to go through that part, too.
• How will I know I am in labor? I have never done this before.
• What if I don’t even go into labor and he just passes? I will be carrying around a child who is not living, will that creep me out?
• I miss him already, and my arms already feel empty as I long to hold him, but will I be able to see such an abnormal body? Lord, can I do this? Because I want to hold him so much.
Just because I have gone through this experience does not qualify me to understand what every woman has had to face, and her unique fears and situation; but there are some things that are certain, even amidst all our diversity of experiencing the similar:
• Our lives are not our own if we belong to Christ.
• Another has offered His entire life for me on the cross, and not just my faith in Him, but my relationship with Him will give me strength to receive what is need, moment by moment.
• Decisions must be made with values in mind, not just immediate relief. Sometime moving ahead quickly is not the best thing for anyone. In our culture of avoidance and denial, sitting with loss and pain can be healing for the soul, for out of it can come life like we have never know, and could not otherwise.
• Though very important, this life is not all there is.
• We can understand many things, and our technology and science has helped many things, but there are still mysteries in the world, and there always will be. God is both knowable and unknowable at the same time. Peace invades when we can embrace both.

That little red line

Have you ever been typing in a Microsoft Word document or in an email and that little red line comes up under the word you just misspelled? Now, I won the school spelling bee in 5th grade, and 20 years later I am quite proud of that :), but that little red line will be following me my entire life.
Two days ago I was typing Jonan’s name in an email and that little red line came up, and you know what? I was a little pissed. His name is not wrong, I thought. Who are you to tell me, computer, that my son’s name needs a little red line? Ahem.
Then today I was typing out Jonan’s full name and to my surprise “Jonan” did not get a red line…victory over the technology! Then I typed “Eilam” and there is was again. How dare you? You are just a piece of technology telling me about how to spell…you…you…! Grr.
And then you know what? I laughed out loud and had a goofy smile on my face and Jeff asked what was going on. I told him that I was getting really pissed at a little red line. Oh, how silly we can be…I can be.
But just for the record, dear computer, his name is perfect :)

Eternity

I would venture to say that most parents who follow Christ long and pray their children do the same. They know the life and joy in Him as well as the eternal promise of heaven. The forgiveness of sin, the healing of brokenness, and power of redemption. I could go on to the amazing journey of life with Christ.
What I find incredible for Jeff and I as parents is that Jonan Eilam will certainly spend eternity with Christ. We will get to truly know him and see what the Lord has done with his eternal life. We have been given a promise not every parent has. Not all chose to follow Christ; sadly, not all are received into heaven.
We are truly blessed.

Naming Jonan

I woke up Saturday morning with one thing on my mind: naming our son. I went to Jeff and told him this is the morning, let’s name him now. Jeff smiled and showed me his phone; he had been up for a half hour researching name meanings and recording his findings. The Lord leads us together yet again.
We both wanted to name him based on meaning, not that we don’t love “cool” names, but we deeply desired meaning over “cool” in this time.
The word that came to mind right when I woke that morning was “giver”. I had a strong sense that this word should be part of his name somewhere. As we prayed about this word it came to mind that God’s Son lived a life much shorter than others could have imagined, particularly his mother. But God was a gracious Giver and gave him for this very purpose. May I note here that I am not equating Jonan with the Savior of the world, but I am comforted to know that God knows our pain, and is already redeeming this time in our lives.
Jeff and I did vote by secret ballot for Jonan’s first name…it was unanimous. And his second name was discussed and agreed quickly on together. As noted in our video Jonan Eilam’s name tells a story. His first name tells of who God is, our gracious Giver; and his second name tells of who he is, an eternal soul.

Say His Name

I love it when others say Jonan’s name. Joy wells up inside of me. I love to see it written by someone else. Perhaps they say something of how Jonan’s story has blessed them, or how they love him. Others have said they want to meet him. Some write to all of us, as in Dear Jeff, Kimberly, and Jonan. I love to hear his name.

Thoughts on Death

I have always hated death. I hate thinking about death; I hate watching movies when people die. Hearing about car accidents traumatizes me. I say I know my eternal destination is secure in Christ, but in side I am terrified of death, my own and that of others. I am scared to have to say goodbye. I am sad for the ways I will miss them. I am dutifully scared of those I love that don’t know Christ, and that they will not spend eternity with Him, but ashamedly I am still more sad for my own loss of them than their loss of eternity with Christ. I have always wished this was different for me, but death is one reality with which I have never been able to come to peace.
Jonan’s life, and eventual death on earth, is redeeming this part of me. Who would have thought God would use my son to heal my own heart? Why does such a “tragedy” have to happen in order for me to be healed? I have no answers. I am simply receiving this as something God is giving to me through my son. As we have named Jonan such…that God is a Gracious Giver, I am now being called upon to allow Jonan to live into his name, and receive from him. Oh, the mysteries of life and death…and the redeeming work of God.
The healing goes something like this: After all my fears and deep hatred of death, my heart is changing. At the beginning of receiving our news about Jonan, I could only think about loss. And I believe that is normal and ok. I wept for the ways I missed him already. In fact, I often said to Jeff in our early hours of weeping that “I miss him already; I miss him so much; I want to hold him so badly.” What I didn’t see transforming in my heart was the perspective I have on Jonan’s impending earthly death. Somewhere along the way I ceased thinking about his ending, and began to think only of his earthly death as his beginning of life in heaven. I dream about his welcome Home. I picture Jonan entering heaven and hearing the voice of God (Aslan-like, with both gentleness and strength) saying “Welcome Jonan, son of Jeffrey” (think Lord of the Rings, or Narnia). There is music like we’ve never heard and a reception rivaling nothing. I see his great-grandfather Bobby Penrod , his great-grandmother Ruth Thiel, and his great great-grandmothers Olive Frangella and Evah Penrod, there to hold him and love him in a way Jeff and I will no longer be called to. And at the end of this beautiful line of people there is Christ, pulling Jonan to his lap. (If you would like to listen to a song about heaven I found on youtube today, follow this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-U-hOMunpWo).
Thinking of Jonan in heaven is changing my perspective of death. It is not just and ending, it really is a beginning. Not in a fluffy feel-good sort of way, but in reality. Heaven is real. More real than the world we know, and it has been there before this world we know was formed. Death will be death for some, for heaven is not the only eternal destination. In that case it will be sad and painful; in that way I do hate death. But for those who know Christ it is different. When those I love pass I will be missing them for sure, but I will always have a tinge of jealousy at their reunion with Jonan. I do not long for death with any sort of unhealthy obsession, I enjoy life, but I do long for eternity and all it will bring. I look forward to my reunion with Jonan and I look forward to getting to know him in a way I will not be able to on earth. And when I near my own time to pass on into heaven, I will be trusting Christ, and anticipating sweet reunions. My son has brought this out in me in a way no one has ever been able to before. I have made my peace with death.