Memories

I did it again tonight.
Found myself in Peyton's room - cuddling her while she slept in my arms.
Such a big girl now - she stretches from my shoulders to just above my knees when she's all flopped out. :)

I've heard the second pregnancy after a loss is a challenge. I've found that my third is causing some struggles.
Even the way this baby moves reminds me of Autumn.
Maybe because my second pregnancy was so close to my first - in a lot of ways they seemed to blend into one, two-year (almost!) experience... and the end result was Peyton.

But - there have been some mornings and I've woken with a sense of panic. I haven't felt the baby move. I remember the morning of the day we found out Autumn died. How absurdly normal it was. How I must have walked around for hours without the awareness that she had slipped away...
This baby squirms around at night while I'm reading - I remember how very similar Autumn's last movements were. Her last movements.
I remember stretching out our firstborn daughter on that hospital bed and taking her all in: her tiny perfection - and I remember weeping with the futility of it all.

Oh God.
My prayers are so feeble.
There have been more tears in the last week then in the last 6 months.
In church on Sunday I looked at my picture of her and cried. Exactly what emotion was behind it, I'd be hard pressed to give an accurate answer.
At the baby shower, watching another of my friends expect her first with eager anticipation, I ached. Not with jealousy. Not with anger. Just with memories - remembering planning and hoping and being so close to meeting our firstborn...
On the way home, I cried as I told Kurt about the shower. I cried for me: for hope deferred. For my baby girl who never took a breath. For Kurt, who spent a lifetime with Autumn - holding her for two hours in a leather rocking chair in the room she was born in.
But that's been the case lately.

This morning, while drinking coffee I flashed back to locking myself in the bathroom at my parent's house after the funeral. It was easily 2 or 3 in the morning - and I couldn't breathe. I sat down on the edge of the tub and wept. Deep, wracking, lack-of-breath sobs that knocked me out of a sitting position and left me curled in the fetal position on the floor. My baby girl was gone and she was never coming back. The terrible finality of it was so overwhelming. Months of hope replaced by... what? There were no clear answers.

My mom was the one who heard me - still tuned to the noises her children make when all is not well. She knocked softly and came in. I heard her whisper, "Oh Kendall." and then she sat on the floor beside me and rocked me like a baby. I remember her saying she wished she could take it for me as she wept.
Me too.
27 years old... happy marriage, career in place - but wishing with all my might that my mommy could just make it better again. That part of the memory has become really clear as Peyton is daily healed by my kisses. I know now - in a very small way as I have only dealt with a toddler's woes - how hard that must have been for my mom to watch her only daughter crumpled on the floor in grief and not be able to do anything.

I remember so clearly how the tears never really helped for a very long time - they just left me empty. Remembering that despair is hard. That is the pit that God took me out off. The fear of falling back in does funny things to my heart.

Flash forward.
Do I believe lightning can strike twice? Do I trust odds, or the God who loves me?
I hold Peyton and am thankful for the reminder that He can make healthy babies. But I don't take anything as proof I shall have another healthy child. This reality has never changed. The difference is in how I react to it. Do I cower? Or do I stand?

As of now, God is giving me strength to stand. And all the while, this little child squirms and wiggles... her 'sweet spot' mere finger-breadths from where Autumn's was. So bittersweet.

The memories are part of my history. But more than that, they've molded the woman I am. So I'm not fighting them right now. I'm walking in with a deep breath. Talking through stuff with Kurt... and taking lots of time to hug and cuddle my almost 2-year-old child of grace.

I'm also letting myself cry again. But the difference is that the tears don't leave me empty anymore. They're actually making me feel better. The despair is gone. I'm overwhelmingly grateful to God.

We're getting there...
Thanks for your prayers.

Za Wee Bump

... and Peyton saying, "Cheese!" She does that every time she sees a camera, now. :)

Pre-date last night - those are preggo jeans. I already have some of the stuff. Why not be comfortable, right? :) I'm only 13 weeks and I honestly look at least 16 or 18. Sigh.
Oh well - 3rd baby, right? Gotta love it!

Anyway - the movie was interrupted by a power-outage. It was so far so good... but we got theater credits to go see it again.
Or, as my husband casually suggested as we exited the lobby, "We could just rent this one at home and go see Robin Hood." Hmmmm...

It's okay. I actually prefer to watch movies at home. Eat my own food. Use my own bathroom. Wear my jammie-jams and get a back rub from Kurt - without having to sit elbow-to-elbow with strangers. Besides - I swear that theaters smell like feet. I deal with that enough for work.

Win. Win.

Oh - and one more pic that helps sum-up date night:
This is Kurt's face as he realized what the little "treat" of side-gravy for the fries cost us - a whopping $1.25 - lol!

I couldn't stop laughing after I looked at this picture. He's trying to be calm (it is "date night" after all) - but you can tell by his eyes that he's kinda freaking out on the inside.

Ahhhhh... I so love, love, love my thrifty German boy. :-D

The Best Analogy I've Heard In A Really Long TIme

Scene opening - Kurt and I at our supper table eating chicken-and-rice dish prepared by yours truly:

Me: "Man! I love the taste of this dish!"

Kurt (shrugging): "It isn't my favorite meal."

Me (sullenly staring): "Well, I love it."

Kurt: "Well, I should say that I do like it but just not as much as other stuff."

Me: continued sullen stare (not my most God-glorifying moment, I'll admit)

Kurt: "Yeah. It's like the Miss America pageant."

Me (shocked out of sullen stare): "Huh?"

Kurt: "Just 'cause a girl finishes last doesn't mean she's ugly. It just means she isn't as pretty as the winner."

I have to say, that was a pretty good one.
I'd personally say this dish is "4th runner up"... but it's all kinda subjective, right? ;)

Cinderella

This is the most heart-wrenching song I've heard in years.
The first time I heard it, we were driving in Phoenix, and I wept for Autumn and what would never be.
The second time I heard it I wept for Steven Curtis Chapman who had lost one of the little daughters he wrote it for.
The third time I came from the back of the house to see my husband holding his baby daughter and dancing around the living room. Peyton was fascinated with her daddy, and the joy radiated out of Kurt. He barely noticed me standing there except to give me a brief smile that said he didn't care if it looked silly. :)
So I stood at the counter in the kitchen and watched the waltz that had waited a year to take place.
I cried - again - for Autumn and all the "if only's".... but my heart rejoiced for the gift of Peyton and the delight she brings to us.
I've added the song on my play list (it's at the very bottom) so if you listen to it you might see why I tend to tear up when I hear it.

Storms

I'm convicted of how horribly impatient I am.
The problem with impatience? It can kill the enjoyment of what is now.
And when the enjoyment of now is gone - it is easy to worry that what I really want will never come - or be taken away from me.

Practically trusting God is realizing:
a) Nothing in His big-picture plan is going to change
b) Everything is happening just as it should - exactly when it should.
c) Worry changes nothing.

I was reading Matthew today: had a few holy and yet gentle slaps.
Jesus sleeping in the boat - his disciples are panicking as the storm gets worse. His simple and pointed response when they wake him up? "Oh you of little faith - why are you afraid?"
Hmmm... this kind of reply from a human who is as impotent as me in the face of creation's fury would garner an eye-roll and an irritated huff."Why am I afraid?Oh, I dunno.... Because there are huge waves! Because there is lightning sizzling overhead! Because we're in the middle of a big stinkin' sea and we have no life jackets!"
But the beauty of Jesus' reply is that he controls the wind and the waves. He's not being sarcastic or unkind - he's just reminding them of the truth. He's absolutely not going to let anything happen to them - yet - because He has a plan that will be worked out for all of them. It's not faith in anything other than who He is.

In my case there are so many "because" factors when it comes to justifying my fears (at least from my perspective). One of those fears is that his plan for me will include more heartbreak - and that next time it could hurt even more than it did when our firstborn died.
Maybe it will. In fact, I should probably plan on having more things disappoint me for the duration of my stay on earth - it is, after all - not heaven.

But - as a human- I want to know what things I might lose. I tell myself (foolishly) that being able to be prepared beforehand would make another loss bearable. When we were talking the other day about this baby, Kurt phrased it perfectly. "I wouldn't even mind waiting if I knew things would turn out in the end." It's the unknowns - having to sit powerless and helpless as circumstances work themselves out for us to observe and live in - that drive us crazy and cause us anxiety.

My fear - when broken down and examined at it's root level - says so many things about what I think of God. And it isn't' good stuff. It says He's unstable. Less trustworthy than myself. It says that my plans are the best. It says that knowing He has a plan isn't good enough for me. It says that He isn't satisfying enough - that I would get more satisfaction from my circumstances working out to my liking.

See - that's always the danger, isn't it? I love the gifts he has given me - but there is always that pull to cling to them as though I alone have achieved them and maintain them. And that is both the blessing and hardship of being a Christian: to love the Giver more than the gifts - especially when he has taken what seemed to be my most precious possession.

But - almost 11 months later - the truth is there to be examined in depth if I will only stop and look. He has held me. Loved me. Caused me to love Him more than I ever could have before.
He has taught me that the end of fear is just that - fear. It accomplishes nothing short of it's own mass reproduction.

But the end of trust... where do I start that list?
Hope.
Joy.
Peace (incomprehensible peace).
Stillness.
Anticipation of the future.
Embracing of my powerlessness - and waiting to see what He does.
Knowing this baby's life is as secure as any on earth - including mine and Kurt's.

The thing about the Matthew passage: the disciples were in a real deluge - it wasn't just their imaginations. But - boy oh boy! - they had the right Man in their boat! :)
And in my storm, Jesus - strong, compassionate and powerful - has me sitting snugly beside Him in His boat, and on His sea. He holds my cheeks, trains my eyes on Him alone, and asks gently, "Have I let you drown before? Do not fear, my little one - I control every storm."

So although I am impatient - so indescribably anxious to hold our little girl and smell her baby skin and love her from head to toe - I can give even that emotion back to God. I can face uncertainty because it isn't uncertain for Him.

It will work out in His timing - the best way possible. And it will be good for me.
Hasn't everything so far?

Kurt's Score (Post by Kurt)

I just want to humbly say that it's the wife I have that allows me to be very superior. :-D

106 As a 1930s husband, I am Very Superior Take the test!

Kurt's New Toy

The love of my life with his very first John Deere. It's a dream come true for him - and our yard is big enough to justify the purchase. Although for me - the purchase is justified by the big grin on his face in the first picture. Even in the serious picture, he still looks like he's trying not to break out with a huge smile. :)
(Some shots of our new yard, by the way. Pretty trees and a big 'ol rock.)

Kurt (Part 2)

These are just over 6 minutes each... part one is below.

What Kurt Said (Part 1)

This is for those of you who have never heard my husband speak... he does it so well for himself - I can never do him justice when I try to quote him. :)
I love this man so much.
Perhaps - after watching this - you'll see why.

Brief Hello

It's been a busy few days.
On the road and back again... Oscar grew another inch and some pounds at the farm. :)
Without too many details, I could really, really use some prayer tonight and in the early part of the coming week. I'll share after more details come available.
Thanks for reading, everyone... God bless...
kendall

"A Letter From Your Daddy"

I debated putting this up on the blog - but I've decided to after all.
So many of my thoughts have been revealed to people... my griefs, fears, angers... but there is another person grieving Autumn more than anyone else - and that is my husband.
I - as I have mentioned before - am making a scrapbook to commemorate the day we had with Autumn as well as the events leading up to her birth. Since journaling is the most important part of memory keeping, I asked Kurt if he would be willing to write something out for me. He said yes - but I left it at that - not wanting to pressure him since it was sure to be an emotional experience.
Christmas morning, he gave me a card with some wonderful words (made me cry) and a letter inside that was simply labeled, "Something for the scrapbook."

I'm going to put it in the blog for 4 reasons:
1) It shows how much Kurt loves his baby girl.
2) It reveals to those who read this that our grief truly is shared.
3) He said it was my letter to do with as I wish. :)
4) I believe it honors him and shows his Christlike gentleness. He is truly my "chief among ten-thousand" and I am so humbled to walk on this earth beside him... I want others to know how I feel about him.

I love you, Kurt - and I hardly remember a time that I didn't. My love for you as as much a part of me as my own name... and I'm so thankful God choose you for me. The letter you wrote for Autumn (and me) exceeded my expectations and delighted me even as it brought tears to my eyes. There is no one else on earth I would rather share this life with it's highs and lows with than you. And that is the truth.
Thank you for being a faithful friend, a compassionate, loving and gentle husband, and a daddy to our daughter. I pray the Lord gives me enough years to show you how crazy-in-love I am with you.
Your Kendall xxxooo

--

December 24,2007

A Letter from Your Daddy

Dear Autumn,
This letter is very hard for me to write to you, not because I do not know what to say, but because I know you will never be able to read it. In so many ways you were our dream come true, the fulfillment of our unspoken expectations … a beautiful baby girl. With your soft dark hair, your chubby cheeks, your button nose, the detailed lines on your hands … you were all together lovely in both your mommy’s and my sight. You were perfect, sweetie. As each day drew us closer to your birth date, our anticipation grew and our preparedness became more visible. Your nursery, with crib, bassinet and change table was assembled … blankets, diapers, and wipes filled the drawers … we had your coming home outfit pick out (you were going to dressed up in white while being wrapped up in blankets that your Nana and Gramma made for you) … and most important of all, your mommy and daddy’s hearts had grown bigger so that when you came, you wouldn’t take away the love between your mommy and daddy but that you would be added into our love. We were so ready for you, Autumn, except that God took you before we even knew you. Coming to the realization that no matter how long we wait, we will never hear your loud hungry cries or see your beautiful eyes look up, has been really hard on both your mommy and I. The mornings when I wake up and sit in the brown chair with Oscar (you would have really liked him) is when I remember you the most, because that would have been daddy and Autumn’s time together. I miss you so much, my little girl. And before I finish, I just wanted you to know, that even in your death, I tried my best to take care of you … cutting your umbilical cord, kissing your soft cheeks, changing your full diaper, handing you gently back to the nurse, and making sure you were let down carefully into your grave. I am so thankful to God that He gave you to us for nine months … I only wish that it wasn’t just for nine months. I love you sweetie,

Love Always,

Your Daddy xxxx oooo

Autumn Elizabeth Lee Manz's Memorial Service

First of all, I would like to thank our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ for you all. We have been absolutly overwhelmed by the generosity, the compassion, and the love He has shown (and continues to show us!) through you all. Whether through emails, blog replies, food drop-offs, flowers, phone calls, we have been so blessed by people who just want to share our grief... and the more we know others want to take upon them - the lighter the load gets. He has used everyone.

His Word is true. His mercy is new every morning. And His grace is sufficient. And in our weakness - total weakness - He is shown strong. If you see any "strength" in us, it is Him.

As well, I would like to thank the Lord for the love of my life, my wife, the mother of my daughter, my help-mate. She is such a precious gift and a comfort to me. And as I write this, I would ask that you could pray for her in regards to the extreme tension, ringing in her ears, and the various other lingering effects of pregnancy and labor that she if feeling this morning.

Autumn's Memorial Service will be held ...

Date: Friday, October 26, 2007
Place: Fellowship Baptist Church, Saskatoon, Saskatchewan (click the link and follow the website directions to find out how you get there from where you are)
Time: 11:00 am

There will be a luncheon to follow from about 12-noon to 2pm. Our plan is then to travel to Leask - where Autumn's body is waiting - to bury our daughter. We don't actually want to say "family only"... so if anyone is desiring to make the hour drive we would be honored. However, there will not be any place to gather after the graveside service in Leask - so we don't want people to feel "pressured" to make the drive all the way there and then back.

Love,
Kendall & Kurt

Banana Bread Review

This is Mr. Manz. I will now give a review on the banana bread which Kendall is pressuring me to make on her blog. She says if I don't ... then I will be cut off from the banana bread.

The banana bread was nice and extra moist. The reason for the extra moistness was that the recipe only called for 2 bananas but Kendall added an extra one. What a recipe rebel. However it was a good decision. Hopefully this banana bread making episode will continue and not stop when the nesting phase ends :)

The next post I do will be post-baby 'cause this is hard. It hearkens me back to my university days when 10 page essays would take 3 months.