Castle In The Clouds...

A few weeks back, I had the privilege of spending five and a half hours visiting with Candy McVicar from the Missing Grace Foundation.  We bonded immediately over the shared loss of our daughters, both of whom died due to stillbirth.  While I was at the Center For Grace, the Missing Grace headquarters, I looked around in their gift shop.  There before my eyes, I saw the most amazing depiction of God’s castle in the clouds.  It was a painted picture of a little girl, facing the castle and looking so excited to enter into it.  For me, immediately I thought of my Solveig.  The picture reminded me so much of her and what she might look like as an older child.  Not only that, but it brought me comfort thinking of her entering into God’s castle in the sky.  It helped me to see from an earthly childlike perspective what my children might envision as they think of their sister and other two little siblings in Heaven.  Of course I had to buy a copy of this print.  Here it is:

I plan to hang it somewhere in our home, but have yet to figure out where.

Today while I was trying to rest but not able to fall asleep, I had a most beautiful vision from the Lord.  Much like the painting I described, He showed me my daughter Solveig…walking through the pearly gates with a huge smile on her face, giggling and ready to see Jesus.  She was walking on the streets of gold and the eternal sunshine was radiating onto her as she approached the throne of Jesus and His castle in the clouds.  Tears filled my eyes as I thought about this and joy spilled over into my soul.  Comfort came to my weary spirit and I thanked the Lord for this most incredible gift of knowing that my baby is with Him forever. 

Right before that attempted nap, I was reading in 2 Corinthians. Here is what I found:

“Now we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in Heaven, not built by human hands.” – 2 Cor. 5:1-

I want to go to that eternal house in Heaven…the castle He has built in the clouds.

This song also came to my mind…as sung by the character Cosette from the musical Les Miserables.

Lyrics are by Alain Boublil and Jean-Marc Natel.

Castle On A Cloud

There is a castle on a cloud, I like to go there in my sleep, Aren't any floors for me to sweep, Not in my castle on a cloud. There is a room that's full of toys, There are a hundred boys and girls, Nobody shouts or talks too loud, Not in my castle on a cloud. There is a lady all in white, Holds me and sings a lullaby, She's nice to see and she's soft to touch, She says "Cosette, I love you very much." I know a place where no one's lost, I know a place where no one cries, Crying at all is not allowed, Not in my castle on a cloud. For me, that is a sweet childlike description of what Heaven might be like…and I just love hearing the song.  Here's a link to a video of it.  I've had several voice students sing this piece over the years and I always love working on it with them.  Now, it will make me think of my Solveig.  Maybe I can teach Bug the song...she'd probably love to sing it with her sweet, clear voice. :)

Our Story - Part Five

Two months ago today she was born still.  I was sitting at Bug's church choir program this evening and happened to look down at my watch...April 29th...the 29th...two months ago, February 29th was Solveig's birth day.  It didn't cause me to burst into tears or anything like that, but just the recognition factor kicked in and I was reminded of her.  I like being reminded of her.  I like to think about her, because she is my daughter and she always will be.  I've had several great days of living life quite fully and having joy again.  This is a blessing.  I'm hopeful there will be more of those before the next wave swells up to shore in my heart.

So, the story continues...part five...

I left off in the funeral home.  We gave Solveig to our funeral director Dan, only about 32 hours after her birth.  I believe with all my heart that Dan and the other funeral directors, Sharon and Richard, took great care of my baby girl's body.  And I thank them for that.  They showed the utmost respect to us and we are so appreciative.  Thank you, funeral directors.

We walked out of that funeral home and I felt so strange, not having Solveig in my arms.  It was odd to not carry her around with me anymore.  There was something so "normal" about holding my baby in my arms, even if she was dead.  It made me feel like a mama to her.  But leaving her...that did NOT feel right.      I just knew that I had to do it, and I did.  Her weight was gone, which equals absence of an unwanted sort. Nobody wants to feel that type of absence, but God has allowed me and Erik to feel that.  I can tell you one thing...I hold my other two children more tightly now.  I watch them like a hawk.  Yes, I feel a bit of "helicopter mom" coming on.  And it's not because I want to be like that.  I think it's just an instinctual thing that has happened.  A fear I face now of not wanting anything to happen to my Bug and Buzz.  I don't know what I'd do if something happened to them.  And yet the utter reality I've been faced with is also that I am to continually present my children to the Lord.  They belong to HIM, not me.  They are just on loan to me for awhile on this earth.  Kellie talked about this the other day and it really sank in with me. Sure I've thought about it before, but after releasing our daughter to the Lord I understood it fully for the first time...the need to surrender.  We humans hate surrender.  We want to keep a tight grip on that which we consider dear and sacred to us.  But we are called to let go.  Such a hard lesson, but so true.

I touched on this before, but after we left the funeral home we visited three different cemeteries and finally found our sweet country cemetery.  I really like going there and I'm surprised I don't have the urge to go every day.  But I don't.  I love going there though and always treasure my moments near Solveig's grave.  I'm looking forward to ordering her a headstone.  Her grave will also be mine.  That is kind of an odd thing - to already know where my body will be laid to rest.  But for some reason, it truly gives me a peace knowing that my body will be laid with hers.  We will be together again physically, but we will be together again spiritually even before that.  When my spirit leaves my body and flies to Jesus, my baby will be there waiting for me.  I can hardly wait.  Okay...now the tears are coming.  See, I knew they would come sometime soon.  It's this writing business...it pulls out the good, the bad and the difficult...but I'm finding it so worth it all.  Such healing is coming through it for me.  So...back to the grave...one of the neatest things about the cemetery we chose is that it is SO small.  It is run by volunteers from a church, as it is that church's cemetery.  It is nice that we didn't have to be members of that church to use their cemetery.  The sweet people who volunteer their time are such gems of humanity.  I have met a few of them and have had the chance to thank them for what they do.  One of them told me that he really enjoys being out there, and finds it so peaceful.  Bless his heart.  There is a sweet pond that was frozen when we were choosing the cemetery so we didn't get to see it then.  Of course it has since thawed and it is adorable, and lots of birds gather round.  I like to sit on the benches near the pond and walk around it and think.

After leaving the cemetery, we came home and crashed.  Our parents were taking turns watching the kids, so we were able to relieve them and spend a little time with our kids and just rest in our own home again.  Of course it was bizarre to come home without our baby.  The law here in MN does say that parents are allowed to take their babies home from the hospital if they want to...but as I alluded to before, there are some challenges between the state law, hospital regulations and funeral home policies that didn't make it possible for us to bring Solveig home.  But in all honesty, I don't think I would have wanted to do that.  Some people really like to do that, and I think that's neat for them.  Some people like that they can bring their baby home and spend time rocking the baby in his or her room, visit with family and friends in a less stressful atmosphere, etc.  But for us it was okay that we didn't take that route.  We felt right about leaving her with the funeral directors.  And we knew we'd see her physical body again a few times before we buried her, so that helped a little bit.

Our kids were so glad to have us home again.  They needed their mommy and daddy, and we needed them.  I was so glad to be able to hold them in my arms again.  We started to read some of the books we had been given for children going through the loss of a baby sibling.  I'm so glad for those resources.  One of my favorite books for them isn't really about grief, but it's just about Heaven.  If you haven't yet read Heaven Is For Real, I highly encourage you to do so.  We had read it a few months before Solveig's death and have found it incredibly helpful for understanding perhaps a bit more about what Heaven is like.  There happens to be a kids version of the book which has GORGEOUS illustrations and has brought to life even more the reality of Heaven for us and for our kids.

The next day was Friday.  We woke up knowing that we would have a LOT to do this day.  The first thing we did was to go to my favorite store with the big red bullseye to obtain a replacement white blanket, identical to the one that we had purchased for Solveig to be wrapped in.   We then went to the funeral home to see Solveig again and to choose a casket for her.  We were able to spend a long time holding her again and looking at her tiny, beautiful features.  She was cold because she had been in the refrigerator.  I know, hard to hear, but real.  But again, it really didn't matter to us.  She still looked so pretty to us.  She was still our sweet girl...the one who had had been warm and had come out only two days earlier.  I wanted to cherish every moment that I could with her.  After holding her for awhile, we switched out the blankets.  I took the bloodied blanket that had held my daughter's body as I wanted to keep it with me forever, and we wrapped her instead in the identical blanket.

We were then presented with three options for a casket.  There was a tiny white one which wasn't really long enough for Solveig's eighteen inch body.  Then there was a white one that was a little bit bigger.  And then there was a beautiful marbled light pink one.  Erik and I were both immediately drawn to that pink one and we knew it was right for our girl.  It was so pretty.  I never knew I'd call a casket pretty, but this one sure was.  Sharon, the funeral director we worked with that morning, said that the pink casket was brand new and she decided to bring it along for us to see.  I'm so glad that she did.  Casket shopping for our child was so strange and definitely brought out a whole new flood of tears.  These are decisions that parents don't want to have to face.

After mustering up enough strength to yet again leave our daughter behind, we left the funeral home and went out shopping for more things.  Next up, we had to go back to the cemetery to actually choose a plot.  Sobering.  But Jerry, the sweet man who volunteers and helped us out, was so tender with us.  He had tears in his eyes and just a sweet, soft-spoken manner.  I appreciate him greatly.

Erik got a new suit as he hadn't gotten one of those since his first job interview. :)  Bless him.  We found a really helpful guy at our local department store who heard our story and immediately went to work helping Erik.  I thankfully have a closet full of black formals from singing, so there were a few options that would work with my swollen, just had a baby body.  I settled on one black velvet dress that I wore in college and have used several times since!  It has that timeless look, so I doubt anyone knew how old it was...but now you know!  Bug would wear her beautiful white dress which we bought for the hospital pictures, and Buzz would wear his black suit and tie from Christmas.

We also had to tend to the final details of our funeral program which we had been planning since Sunday night when we found out that Solveig was gone.  Thank you to sweet Lisa for working behind the scenes to make our program look AMAZING.  It was so pretty and delicate, just like our little girl.

This picture was on the front of the program...

I love this one.  It's so tender and soft and sweet.  I think our Solving had a sweet spirit.  I could sense that.  I think that she was also feisty like our other two kids, as she was constantly busy inside of me.  But sometimes I wonder if some of her busyness was related to her cord strictures...and that she might have been trying to move her way out of something that wasn't comfortable...we'll never know.  I'm just so glad that I got to feel her in me at all.  She was a miracle.  I'll not forget that.

There is so much more to share, but this post is already super long...so I'll save more for another day...thanks for reading and thanks for your continued prayers for our family.  We feel such a peace and strength.  The kind of peace that is perfect from the Lord.

The following was my mom's life verse while she was going through her cancer, almost 12 years ago...

"You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you."
-Isaiah 26:2-4-

Replay

For a few days I've been doing really well and haven't had any major meltdowns.  It has been nice to be living life with my family, enjoying my kids and being grateful for the safe return of my Erik.  He was gone for four nights on a business trip to the Na_pa Val_ley area of Ca_lifor_nia.  Nice, right?  :)  I'm happy for him that he could get away for a little bit.  It was so healthy for both of us to have some time to think and reflect.  But I'm SO glad that he is home again as I missed him a lot!

Today we had the chance to spend time with some sweet friends who are here from Sea_ttle.  It was a nice little reunion.  On the way home, I started telling Erik how my mind has been rehearsing what happened with Solveig.  Naturally, I think about her all the time.  And some of the time my thoughts are consumed with how she died and the process therein.  I will always vividly remember the 200 ticks that I felt in rapid succession.  I will probably always wish that I had called the Dr. right away to ask about that and then rush to the hospital to see if we could save Solveig's life.  But the reality is, even if we had gotten to her before she was completely gone, she may have been brain dead from having a seizure.  I really believe it was a seizure that was happening to her.  I'd like to learn more about this ordeal and really study it from a medical perspective because it is quite fascinating to me now.  I want to know as many details and potential scenarios from an earthly perspective as I possibly can.  That's just how I operate.  I'm hoping that I can get my hands on some medical journal articles about this type of seizure caused by the cord stricture, and I'm hoping to speak with some doctors about it.  People can tell me to get over it or move on or try to let go of it...but as a mama who has lost this little life, I think I'll always remember her last moments inside of me...and I'll always wonder "what if."  What if she had been spared...would she have health problems from her struggle?  Would she have been mentally or physically challenged?  Would she have been fine?  Would she have lived for a little bit and then died?  I'll never know.  And she's not here.  And I'm learning to live in the "new normal".

At the same time, Erik and I were talking about the sovereignty of God and how it relates to Solveig and her life.  I do believe that He knew what would happen to her.  And I believe He is sovereign.  He is the author of life, and the author of time.  "He giveth and He taketh away."  As hard as it is for me to comprehend and as hard as it is to say at times, blessed be the name of the Lord.  He has been bringing joy in the midst of this pain.  He has been helping me to think of my little girl being complete and being full of true joy in the midst of the Lord.  He has shown me His presence and His strength in my hurt.  And He has been bringing me peace in the midst of what feels like a huge gale.  I still love the Lord.  I still worship Him.  And I still miss my Solveig and always will...but He is still good, no matter what.

A New Friend...Isaiah's Mama

When we lose someone close to us, we join a club.  This club isn't one that anyone would outright choose to join, but it's just there.  The club of others who have also lost is full of members whose lives you may intersect at any given time and any given place.  One such member is my new friend, Becky.  She and her husband Matt recently lost their precious baby boy Isaiah.  He was also born still, just a few weeks after Solveig.  Becky and I went to the same college but didn't know each other until our lives were bonded through this club of loss.  And although the circumstances for our meeting are difficult, I'm incredibly grateful to know another mama who is journeying a very similar path as mine at a similar time.  Sweet Becky, I am praying for you and Matt and your little children as you miss your Isaiah.  May God be so close to you and comfort you as you grieve.  Please join me in praying for Becky.  And if you'd like to follow her journey, click here to follow her blog.

Thanks.

A Little Piece of Heaven...

I tried to find three early pictures of my three babies as I was thinking about how they look similar and different.  The following are sort of random, but they're sweet to us. :)

Bug - born May 19, 2006 - this was about a week or so later...she looks like she's playing air guitar, doesn't she?
  For some reason we didn't get many good hospital pictures of her.

Buzz - born June 22, 2008 - he has such a sweet round head.  I'll never forget Dr. C who delivered him and said, "this baby has such nice big round head!  hahaha!  I never seen baby with such nice big round head!"  I love telling that story. :)

Solveig - born still February 29, 2012...I think she looks so much like her big sister and I often stop in my tracks to gaze at the Bug and imagine Solveig and what she would be like...I love this picture of her, because I feel like we can see her features most clearly on here and on one other one that we have.  She was so tiny...my hand totally covered her body...

Writing has eluded me the past few days.  My desire and inspiration just hasn't been there.  But tonight I feel like I can write again.  After a stressful weekend and just not feeling well due to an ear infection, I'm just starting to regain some strength again.  My body and spirit just had enough I guess after all the stress of the last eight weeks.  Eight weeks...today marks eight weeks since Solveig's birth.  It is hard to believe that so much time has passed when many moments it feels like time has stood still.  But life goes on.  Life has gone on all around us, and some of the time we have been able to partake in those goings on.  It has felt good to do some "normal" things again.  But there are still days when I can barely get up and get going. Having two cutie pies with me kind of keeps me going.  They're really helpful for that and I'm so grateful for them.  Our furry friend Bailey is a great companion too, and I'm glad that we've had her for almost a year now.  And my sweet man...he helps me too.  Thank you Erik.

Today we had a really incredible speaker at our MOPS group.  Her name is Kellie, and she and her husband Todd lost their daughter Makenzie almost three years ago to a really tragic car accident.  Makenzie was 18 years old and she was a beautiful young woman who loved Jesus and also was a professional ballerina.  Kellie shared some pretty amazing things today that really spoke to my heart.  (Thank you Kellie.  It was awesome to meet you today.) I felt like even though my loss of Solveig is very different than her loss of her teenage daughter, there were many things that I could relate to.  Kellie talked about the need to hold her daughter after she found out she had died in the accident.  She shared that she wasn't able to see her daughter for a couple of days due to the law and needing to investigate the accident.  When she talked about that, I completely broke down.  I cannot imagine how difficult that must have been for her.  But I could relate to the desperate need to hold and see her daughter who had died.  I'll never forget how intense that desire was for me...knowing my sweet girl was already gone inside of me and just wanting her to come out so that I could hold her and keep her close to me...even though her spirit was already gone.  Kellie also shared some very special truths that I wrote down in my little blue notebook which now goes everywhere with me.  She said, "God doesn't function on my life's to do list."  Wow.  Isn't that something?  We think we need Him to do things in our time and when it will work best for us...but friends, He doesn't operate that way.  His timeline is different than ours.  The other thing that she talked about was how everything we've gone through in our life up to the time of our difficult moment was preparing us for that difficult moment.   I could really relate to that one.  I can honestly look at my life and say that I see how God was preparing me for Solveig's death in so many ways...from the tiniest details to the more major ones.  For instance, I do believe that having two miscarriages prior to Solveig's death was helpful for me.  I already knew that life isn't just a given and that we cannot take life for granted.  I also believe that He helped me even with those miscarriages and Solveig's loss through knowing the story of my own parents' loss of conjoined twins who were born before brothers Eric and Joel and me.  I can hardly wait to meet them in Heaven one day.  And other things like having a background knowledge of funerals and the customs therein and funeral homes (from my dad working in the business)...that was very helpful as we were planning Solveig's funeral.  I feel like throughout my pregnancy with Solveig I was just hesitant to accept that it would go "textbook."  It wasn't textbook, that's for sure, and I knew that fairly early on.  I just kind of had a foreboding sense that something was going to happen and that I would maybe be called to sacrifice her to the Lord.  I never had a "word" from the Lord about that as some people might, but I just kind of knew.  I don't know how better to explain that.  One other thing that Kellie said that I will remember was, "God never interrupts your life - He knows every detail."  He knew.  He knew that Solveig would die.  I believe that it was part of His plan for her and for us.  Sometimes that portion is quite difficult to reconcile.  Sometimes it is hard to understand how His plan for my daughter and for us could involve her early departure from this planet.  But His plans are not for us to fully comprehend here, as much as we'd like to.  We will know fully when we are in Heaven.  I look forward to having these earthly mysteries solved one day.

Kellie talked about how Makenzie met Jesus immediately upon her sudden death.  For me, that visual was so real today.  And what a beautiful image that was.  Not only could I imagine this sweet young girl who had died, but also my precious Solveig.  Solveig got to meet Jesus, immediately upon her death.  She got to see Him face to face.  She is with Him now.  Today, I saw a little piece of Heaven when I imagined my  adorable baby girl being held by Jesus.  I long to be there too.  One day sweet Solveig...one day we will meet again.  For now, maybe Miss Makenzie is playing with you and teaching you how to dance on the streets of gold.  I know your big sister Bug will love dancing with you too one day.

I miss you, baby girl.  Your mommy will always love you and think of you...and I'll always be grateful that I had you here for a brief while...you had life.  You had life in me, and that was a blessing.

Our Story - Part Four

Big sister Bug loved her little sister Solveig...she misses her so much.

Last I wrote about our story of Solveig, I left off here.  The following is the fourth installment in the story...it's kind of long, but this is our story...

After our photography session with Jen and the family members, we spent a bit of time with the family and then they left.  It felt so quiet and empty when our family left us there.  Now it was just us three.  We would not realize just how tender those moments were until we would sit in reflection and gratitude that we continued our time with our daughter for almost a whole day longer.  It was so peaceful just the three of us, and Erik and I took turns holding and rocking Solveig.  We talked to her and sang to her like she was still with us.  I don't remember a whole lot about that evening, except that there was one point at which I just sat looking at our daughter and I once again broke down weeping in realization that she was gone.  Erik came and wrapped his arms around me and held me in reassurance and love.  He pulled out our computer and turned on the i_tunes and what he chose at that moment was so appropriate.  It was Steven Cu_rtis Ch_apman's album "Be_auty Wi_ll Ri_se," the one he wrote following the tragic loss of his daughter Maria several years ago.  The song, "Jesus Will Meet You There" came on and I wept...knowing that He would be with me, no matter how dark things were and would get.  There is great comfort found in music.  I encourage you to click on that link above and listen to that song if you haven't heard it.  I may be a classical singer, but I enjoy and appreciate almost every genre of music, including contemporary Christian.  And since I grew up with listening to good 'ol SCC, I feel like he's my buddy and I find comfort in the text of his songs.

That night after the delivery, we decided to stay in the hospital.  I probably could have chosen to go home as some people do following a still birth, but I really wanted to maximize my time with Solveig.  That, and odd as it may sound, staying at the hospital was in a way comforting.  It felt safe there.  And there was the knowledge deep in my mind that when we left, we'd be leaving our story and leaving our daughter and heading back into the world...which I was not ready to do.  Erik fell asleep pretty easily.  For me however, it was not quite so easy.  I was obviously exhausted physically and emotionally, but I wanted to stay awake with my daughter.  I didn't want the next day to come.  I didn't want to miss any minutes with her.  She was wrapped up like a little burrito laying next to me in the hospital bed.  I needed to be close to her...and this would be the only night that I would get to sleep with my little baby girl.  I wanted to keep her warm since her warmth was gone hours ago from her body.  The coldness did not deter me from wanting her near...she was still my baby...part of me.  I caught a few hours of sleep, finally.

Morning came all too soon and the barrage of nurses and doctors came too.  I was glad to see my sweet Dr.'s L & M again.  Dr. L with tears in her eyes hugged me and then held my baby girl in her arms.  The kindness of these two sweet women reached into my soul.  Their story will always be woven with mine and I'll always be glad for their place in my life.  Thank you dear doctors.

We had to meet with a social worker to discuss plans and sign some papers.  After a few phone calls, we got some things straightened out and made an appointment for our funeral director to come and meet us at the hospital to sign the baby out.  Before he came, however, our dear pastors Sid and Rich came and met with us to work through the funeral plans.  It meant so much to us that they could be with us in the hospital in some of our darkest hours, showing us love and support.  We had been planning Solveig's funeral service for a few days already, since we found out that she was gone, and it didn't take long to get things settled with the pastors.  They prayed over us and we felt like our time was so sacred with them.  Thank you, Sid & Rich.  You are dear men of God and we respect you immensely and thank you for meeting us in our need.

After our pastors left, the time was quickly approaching that we would have to leave the hospital.  We were by this point quite ready, yet at the same time my spirit was hesitant.  I knew that it was going to be difficult to leave our safe refuge in our room at the end of the hallway...but we packed up our things and got ready to meet our funeral director, Dan.  The plan that we made was that I would ride with Dan to the funeral home.  Due to hospital, state and funeral home policies not lining up, the best scenario we could come up with was that I could help escort our daughter in my arms if I was willing to ride in the car.  Having grown up around funeral homes and the funeral business, this really didn't bother me too much as I imagine it might bother many other people.  My dad used to sell music systems for funeral homes, so we saw a LOT of funeral homes growing up while we were on family vacations and he would make business calls.  In fact, the very funeral home that we worked with for Solveig's funeral is one that I got to see and tour upon its grand opening.  Never did I think they'd be helping me do a funeral for my own child.

Dan arrived.  Standing outside our door were two of our sweet nurses ready to help push me out in a wheelchair, a police officer who had to be there to make sure the dead body wouldn't get stolen or tampered with or something...interesting...and Dan, the funeral director.  It was such a strange and grim scene, and so surreal.  But it was real.  It was very real.  I held Solveig, wrapped in her pretty white blanket, and a blanket was placed over her and me so that people wouldn't know that I was carrying my dead baby underneath it all.  We went down a sort of "back" hallway so that we wouldn't have to go past the nursery...so grateful for that.  But while we were going out, there was a woman pushing a stroller, chatting away happily with her husband.  That was really hard. It was so extremely odd and different that instead of joyfully holding my new baby and heading to the car to go home, I was holding our deceased baby and heading instead to the funeral home...in the white Cad_illac...with my husband following behind in our car.  Dan was incredibly kind and respectful, as was the police officer.

I held Solveig in my arms all the way to the funeral home.  I was not about to let someone else take her and escort her any other way.  We went inside and made our funeral plans with Dan.  We wrote Solveig's obituary quickly so that it could make it into the paper for the next day's printing deadline.  We talked about cemeteries and caskets and burial plans.  Because our daughter was so tiny and had already endured much being born still and dying inside of me, we decided that we would not embalm her little body and would therefore not do an open casket funeral.  Growing up with funeral business being talked about around me all the time, I have come to agree with the idea that seeing the body of the deceased is an extremely helpful thing for people who are grieving.  Sometimes that is not possible, but when it is possible, it is so helpful.  When we can see the body of the one who is gone, we can more fully come to terms with their death and its reality.  When we don't have that chance to see the body, it can sometimes feel like perhaps the person never really died or maybe we'll see them again somewhere, somehow.  I didn't get to see my grandparents' bodies as I wasn't at their funerals, and I honestly think it was harder for me to come to terms with their passing.  Anyway, that's something for you to chew on and consider for you and your loved ones.  For us, at least some of our family members and our pastors were able to see our baby's body...so it was very real for them.

After a few hours with Dan, we had to leave Solveig.  It was extremely difficult for me to relinquish my daughter into Dan's loving arms.  He treated her with such respect and kindness...but I didn't want to leave her there.  I could hardly let go.  But I had to.  I'm sobbing as I write this portion because I can so clearly remember that pain.  Solveig's body had to remain at the funeral home until the burial.  After leaving, we went and visited three cemeteries.  Finally when we reached the third stop, we knew we were in the right place.  We love our tiny little country cemetery.  It just feels so comforting.  If you've never lost a loved one and haven't hung out in a cemetery much, you might not be able to relate to that part.  But when that day comes for you, you'll know what I mean...that you can find comfort knowing that your loved one is safely laid to rest.

How odd to have a baby and not rest afterwards.  But that was the journey we would be on for the next several days until her burial...to be continued...

Bracelet Story Contest

Yesterday I went to the Bri_ghton store at the mall to see if they could help me with my charm bracelet which had a loose closure and also a lost stopper bead.  They immediately looked at the bracelet and said that they would just replace the bracelet itself as well as the stopper bead.  FABULOUS service, I tell you!  Thank you Bri_ghton and kind ladies at the store.

I went on to tell the ladies of my story and the significance behind my bracelet.  They said that they had heard about me from the other sales associates and they were so moved by the story of my daughter.  Then they told me about a contest through Bri_ghton.  The contest is for people to share their story of their charm bracelet and the woman that the bracelet is for.  They were cheering me on, saying that I absolutely had to share my story!  So, today I wrote that story.  Some of it I have already shared on here, so it was not too hard for me to come up with something.  What follows is the story that was just submitted this evening.  Also, I have to say that one of the ladies who helped us create the bracelet was there tonight.  Her name is Doreen and she's so sweet.  She gave me a huge hug tonight and said that it meant so much to her that I came back to the store and that I decided to share my story.  Thank you Doreen.  You really did make a difference for us.  Here it is!  I'm hoping that it will be selected for voting.  If it is, I'll be sure to let you know and I'll ask for your votes online!

This story is not about a woman, but about my stillborn daughter who would inspire me greatly.  February 26, 2012 my husband Erik and I received some of the worst news any parents could ever hear – our baby girl Solveig Sofia had died inside my womb at 33.5 weeks gestation.  We went home to prepare over the next day for the delivery of our daughter.  The hospital grief counselor encouraged us to find a special outfit and blanket for our baby, but also to get a piece of jewelry that would be in honor of her…something that we could touch to her while we were holding her and saying our hellos and goodbyes.  We made our way to the Brighton store at our nearby shopping mall and after explaining our story to the two ladies working in the store, they helped us through many tears to put together what has become a most incredible keepsake.  My silver bracelet has on it the three initials of my children, all on beautiful silver beads with tiny crystals.  I also chose a special charm for Solveig: a round circle with a cross on one side and the word “believe” on the other.  There are two silver stopper beads with diamonds on them to hold all of the charms in place.


Solveig was born on February 29 and we had photos taken with our family. We placed the bracelet near Solveig’s hands and feet for many of the photos.  For Solveig’s burial, we purchased duplicates of the “S” charm as well as the cross that says “believe.”  At her funeral service, those charms were displayed next to Solveig’s tiny pink casket along with her photo.  Two days later we buried her, with her little “S” and cross charms inside her casket.  Even though her spirit has left her earthly body, wearing my bracelet helps me to feel connected to Solveig in a special way, since we both have the same charms with us.  Since her death, I have worn my bracelet nearly every waking minute of each day.  Little did I know when we purchased the bracelet just how much it would come to mean to me.  When I look at the cross charm that says “believe,” I am reminded that our daughter is in Heaven with Jesus.  I believe He died so that she could be there, and so that I could believe and hope in Him, knowing that I will one day also be with her in Heaven.

Thanks again Jen for your amazing photos.