A Second Child Remembered

On this blog I have reflected quite a bit on being mother to my daughter, C, so much so it may seem like she is my only child.  This is not the case however.  I do have another child, one that I think about quite a bit this time of year. That child’s name is Hope. It was around mid April five years ago that I found out I was pregnant for the second time. Only a short few months later in July I found out my child was not going to live to birth. I had to say good-bye and joined the ranks of bereaved mothers.

The last five years have not always been an easy journey. I have struggled to figure out how I define myself as a mother. I struggled with the question of how many kids do you have. I have looked into the face of grief and difficult decisions. In the midst of all of this I had to keep working as a chaplain. I continued to have to put aside my own grief to minister to the grief of others. I shared the whole of my grief with only a very chosen few who I knew would not judge me and could handle the fullness of my struggle. For a long time it was a lonely place to be, and still is lonely sometimes.

One thing I have noticed over the last several years is that the issue of perinatal loss comes to the forefront about three times a year, October which is perinatal loss awareness month, Mother’s Day and occasionally around Father’s Day. But really this is not an issue that is dealt with three times a year, it is an issue dealt with daily. Daily, bereaved mothers miss their child(ren) desperately, daily women may feel like a failure because their body betrayed them through infertility or inability to carry a healthy fetus to term. Daily there are little things that remind us our little ones are no longer with us in body, only in memory.

For clergy who also hold the title of bereaved parent the journey can be even harder. Infant dedications/baptisms, “required” attendance at baby showers and so many other events that are attended to around the birth and life of children in our congregations can be reminders of little ones of our own that will not experience these things. We do truly celebrate these events for they are joyful reminders of the miracle of life. It is just that sometimes, depending on where we are in our own grief these events can have a bit of taste of the bittersweet.

In my own chaplaincy I have discovered that being a bereaved mother does give me a unique place at the side of the bereaved mother I may be ministering to. At the bedside I am equiped with a host of pastoral education but also the life education of walking this particular journey myself. “Bereaved Chaplain Mother” is a unique title  I hold and with it the comes the call to enter into this place of ministry in a way few others can. It is in this place that I have walked some very hallowed ground.

Walking through the hallowed ground of grieving Hope’s death, seeking meaning in it and ministering through it has taken me some unexpected places. This journey has had me sharing my story with nurses and nursing students to help them in gaining better understanding in caring for women going through perinatal loss. It has also found me writing. I have never really considered myself a writer, yet the need to share Hope’s story has pushed me to write through the encouragement of colleagues and family. Some of my writing will soon be published.

Writing has become another part of this journey of grief that eases with time but does not really fully go away. It is both scary and freeing to know that Hope’s and my story is being shared with the world. And perhaps adding my voice to the other voices speaking about this issue will continue to provide healing not only to myself but also to others who share this unique grief journey.

Psalms of Catharsis

In my journey through school and to being a Board Certified Chaplain writing has been a large part of my life I have written more papers and personal reflections than I care to count. Even now daily I find myself writing whether it be in a patient chart note or e-mail to someone. But with all this writing in my life, it is only recently that I have come to see myself as a writer.

My aha moment came during Lent when I spent some time reflecting on the psalms and praying and experiencing them in new ways. Not only did I rediscover the depth of the Psalms and just how much they have to offer in coping with the many emotions that life has to offer, but also that there is much space for new Psalms written out of personal experience. The process of writing in this way can be deeply cathartic.

Today I break from the typical longer narrative blog and simply share a couple of my own Psalms. The writing of these two was a personal catharsis of some of the very messy, realness of life that I experience in my work as a chaplain.

                       

FORGIVE

For you are merciful God. You desire us to know the depths of your mercy.

Only you know the depths of my soul that I hide from even myself.

Respond to me God. Break the silence of my shame. Shout loudly enough to allow me to hear beyond the walls of my self-loathing.

Instill in me the beauty of your forgiveness that I may find my way back to the beauty of wholeness.

Very much you desire me to be merciful to myself - just as you are merciful to me.

Everyday is a new beginning, a chance to be made new in your love and mercy, a new opportunity to practice forgiveness of myself. For that I am grateful.

Called to Light and Love

O God darkness surrounds, hopelessness abounds – so much new of all that is bad.

Glimmers of your light shine out, but it seems dim some days.

Yet still you call me to belief in your love, belief in your light.

It is this belief that sustains me. Your love and light that guides in the dark to your love and hope.

In faith I trust that this darkness will someday end and I will once again see all that is beautiful.

Until then I will seek to rest and abide in your presence, trusting you to provide the light and love that I seek.

AMEN.

Eharmony...for Ministers and Churches.

As I progress through the Search and Call process I’ve started calling comparing it to E-Harmony. (Although, really, I’ve never been on a dating website because Cory and I met and married just when those sites started to gather momentum.) Not long ago I had a phone interview with a church quite some distance from where I live now. I was just as excited, jittery, and nervous and felt just as awkward as I remember first dates being. It’s tough to interview over the phone. So much is lost in translation—so much communication depends upon unspoken expression. This process has of course got me thinking about how best to represent myself—but also how to do that in the most authentic way possible. How much of my quirky humor do I let shine through? Was I too confident? Not confident enough? Where is the line between being sure of myself and hubris? (Cory likes to tease-kindof-that I am not overburdened with humbleness).

Many years ago the first Senior Minister I worked with, Jan, made an offhand comment to someone about how one had to have a strong ego to be a minister. At the time I didn’t really understand, but that has stuck with me through the years—and really we do have to have a strong sense of self. A strong sense of who and where God is calling us to be and the strength of character to follow through with that call.

I think about my character a lot these days. As in, what are my best traits, my worst (groan). Just a couple of days ago I sought advice from my last senior minister and mentor, Gary, who suggested that each interview and contact in the search and call process is an opportunity to learn something about both myself and my call. I am trying to fully embrace this process…as awkward and exciting as it can be. I imagine this is just the beginning of the potential ups and downs of this process. And I continue I try to remember to ask… ‘what am I learning’…instead of ‘where am I going.’