She has also written a book about their journey. It is definitely a must read! The trailer is at the bottom. Check it out!
Hello. My name is Julie Brawner. And I have experienced loss.
So often I feel like I should be sitting around a circle and when it's my turn, take that turn and become a part of the group of us. The AL's. Those who are Anonymous Loss's.
My husband and I met in college at Texas A&M University, whoop! We both loved Jesus very much and devoted our lives to honoring Him. We told Him that when He said go? We would go. When He said wait? We would wait. When He said "Step out on the water..." and other's said it can't be done, we'd lift our eyes to Him and we would come.
Little did we know our life would be a journey that asked us to give up life.
Our precious firstborn, Adia Michele, came in 2009. We were pregnant with our second baby girl in 2011. We were so excited, had her room all set up and her name sign over her crib. Piper Kay was about to be born and come home! My husband was out on scouting (he's a coach) and I went with a friend to my very last doctors appointment...the one where they tell you, "You're dilated to a 5! Let's go!" or "Let's induce!" Excitingly, I went to the appointment. As they searched for the heartbeat with that silly little machine, they asked for another because the battery seemed to not be working. The second one still didn't work so, they decided to send me quickly to do an ultrasound. I knew...just KNEW...she was ready to come! They'd put me in the hospital to be induced!!!
Yes. They would. "You've lost your baby."
What? What? No. This doesn't happen. There is NO way. She is FULL TERM. This DOES NOT happen. She is alive. I was here less than a week ago and her heart was beating fine! NO! NO! NOOOO!
In a daze and full of tears and sorrow, I left to call my husband. "We've lost Piper."
His reaction being the same and on the phone both of us not understanding, "Is this real? What do you mean? She's gone?!?!" "Yes, she's gone. She's gone. She's gone."
The next morning we went into the hospital to be induced. By 11 a.m., we were holding a precious, beautiful baby girl named Piper Kay, 6 lbs 12 oz with the most precious fingers and toes, the most beautiful mouth, and a perfectly formed body. As we held her and loved her and hugged her and sang to her, we knew we had entered a new part of life. A life of loss.
Piper Kay was born on July 27th, 2011. We have still not recovered. We never will recover. We will always be broken and have a scar from this cut that is so deep. But God walked day by day with us through those hardest of times. He sat with us, He held us, He loved us, and He carried us.
Other people played a huge roll in our existence in those hard times. There are days where we did not know if we could get out of bed to take a step, to breathe a breath, to blink an eye. For our first born, Adia, we knew we had to. But without the gracious prayers and the constant love poured out on us by friends and family, we would not have made it.
HOW can you help those who have lost? Don't shy away. Love them by asking the hardest most uncomfortable questions. Try to remember the day of the month they lost and send a text or email or note on that day, every month, and then every year...acknowledging that you haven't forgotten and you remember with them. Don't tell them you understand or that everything will be okay. Rather admit you don't have the words, cry with them, tell them loss sucks, and tell them you're sorry. Loss is loss. It SUCKS. It always will. I had a friend who set an alarm every night at the same time and would send me a Bible verse every night for the entire first year after we lost Piper. We had people from all over the community bring food and help out with meals, which helped tremendously due to the haze we lived in for a while. We had people send checks which helped cover the cost of funeral expenses and such. And then, the brave souls who ventured to sit and visit with us and hug us face to face. It must have been the hardest thing for them to drive, knock on the door, and enter into our home. But they did. And their bravery meant the world. We even had friends purchase a tree to be planted in a local park in honor of Piper, a park we took Adia to all the time to swing and laugh and tree-hug.
So often after a loss, people tend to stay away. It makes us who have lost feel like we have the plague, alienated by the world. I never blamed those around me for that. I knew it hurt too bad and that people didn't know what to say. But it is so comforting when people make the step out of their comfort zone to extend love in time of need. No matter if you've lost a child through a miscarriage, a stillborn, an abortion, a death after birth...whether you've lost a friend, a sibling, a mother, a father, a grandparent. Loss is loss. It cuts deep and wounds forever. There remains a scar until we one day enter those pearly gates and walk those streets of gold in our new bodies.
For those of us who HAVE lost? Challenge yourself to open that chapter of your life and allow others in. Tell them your story, share with them your hurt, and cast your burdens out there. Our Father has given us a family in Him that is not earthly, but Heavenly. The believers that surround you are there to share your burdens, to cry with you, to laugh with you, and to remember with you. Let them. Open up and let them in. If you have kept your hurt in all these years, it is a festering wound that can not heal into a scar. It will never fully heal--ever. You will always be marked with loss. The scar of loss remains, but if you have not allowed others in to remember that life with you? Now is the time. Today is the day.
If you have never lost, remember that every day, people are walking by you with a smile and when you ask them how they're doing, they say, "Fine!" Little do you know that in the depths of so many people's souls, there is an aching loss that is invisible to the common eye. We try to hide it and pretend like everything is okay. We try to be like those we see, those who don't walk around with the ringing of loss in their ears or the instantaneous flood of tears that hits when small remembrances pass by. We try to blend in and be normal, but we can't...because this is our new norm.
But wait. Wait. As I peer closer into your eyes, you who seem so normal...sweet friend? I have not taken the time to ask you, but I see it on your face--do you have a scar too?
Hello. My name is Julie Brawner. And I have experienced loss. Want to share scars?
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Adia treasuring her sister's features
Daddy's girl
Thank you for sharing your story, Julie, and thank you Karlee for hosting and highlighing this in your blog. My parents lost their first baby to SIDS 40 years ago and although I've grown up hearing her story my whole life, it's still hard to imagine that kind of pain. Someone very close to me just experienced a miscarriage at 12 wks, and I am praying daily about how I can be there for her. Hearing your sorry does help, Julie. Hopefully sharing it gives you some comfort as well. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteThat should read "hearing your story" at the end.
ReplyDelete