Happy (belated) birthday to me!

This is slightly off topic, but it's my blog, right?  Yesterday was my birthday.  Birthdays have always been (and still are) kind of a big deal in my family - not necessarily with elaborate gifts, but a special day to celebrate you.  We got to pick what we wanted to eat (and later choose a restaurant), got thoughtful gift, and were just generally the center of attention.

I recently became aware of a nonprofit, Beverly's Birthdays, that helps spread this same birthday cheer to children experiencing homelessness and to families in need.  You can check out their website here, for more info, but generally speaking, they provide birthday parties and gifts to kids who otherwise wouldn't have this kind of birthday celebration.  Every Birthday Cheer Bin that goes out to a child on their birthday contains a book along with 5-6 other gender and age appropriate gifts, including a toothbrush and toothpaste.  Last year, Beverly's Birthdays distributed over 1,100 of these Birthday Cheer Bins.  

So for my 36th birthday, I'm hoping to raise $360 dollars that will be matched at 50% through Usborne Books and More and matched 25% by me (I will be donating any commission I earn too so I don't personally benefit from this financially.) to donate some amazing books to the children served by Beverly's Birthdays. If I reach my goal of $360 dollars, that would be over $630 of amazing, high-quality children's books donated to a great cause! 

I'd love it if you'd donate even a few dollars to help some little ones experience the great feeling of being celebrated in a special way!   Here's the link if you're interested in donating - https://www.youcaring.com/beverly-s-birthdays-546326

Good Tidings of Great Joy

As we decorated our house for Christmas this weekend, I was reminded of God's faithfulness to us in even the smallest of details and wanted to share it with all of you.

To set the stage, it was Christmas 2012, just four months after we had laid Joy to rest. I had been having a rough few days - it seemed like everyone I knew was pregnant or having healthy babies.  Even Princess Kate had recently announced her pregnancy.  All those babies and pregnancies coupled with the general emotional overload that can come with the holidays had just left me feeling down. On this particular Tuesday, I had been in tears at my Bible study as I asked the ladies to pray for me in my sorrow.

Later that night, we started decorating for Christmas, even though it was the last thing I felt like doing.  From here, I will tell the story via the email I typed to those dear Bible study ladies the next morning:

 "We were unpacking the Christmas decorations last night. I opened one box and spotted a Christmas card holder that hangs on the wall on the top of the pile.  I was excited because I vaguely remembered shopping for one last year but couldn't remember if I was successful or not and wanted a place to put all those cards that are already piling up.  The weird part was that Eric was excited too - I couldn't figure out why he cared about a Christmas card holder.  I asked him why, and he said "look at it".  When I looked closer, I almost burst into tears (a common theme of yesterday for me apparently!).  It says "Good news of great JOY" with the joy part in huge letters.  

After seeing it, the story of me buying it came back to me and I was amazed at God's provision and timing, even in the little details.  Last year after Christmas (when I was pregnant but didn't yet know that Joy had anencephaly and we hadn't even considered the name Joy) I went to the Christian bookstore to get a Little People nativity set that was on clearance.  While I was there, I decided to look for a cardholder since I hadn't found one elsewhere.  They had a few, but none that I loved because I wanted one that displayed the cards not just collected them.  But this one was cheap and the boys were waiting in the car, so I just grabbed it.  Little did I know the significance it would have a year later when I unpacked it.  I know that "joy" is a common theme of Christmas and Christmas decorations, but the timing and the circumstances and even the style of the banner with the family silhouette on it give me no doubt that God's hand was at work. I know that God is faithful and cares for us, but I was so thankful to have a literal sign of it yesterday!"

You better believe that that Christmas card holder will be hanging on our wall for years to come, even if it's tattered and torn. It will serve as yet another Ebenezer (a sign of God's faithfulness and help, see this post) on this journey. 

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day

Today, October 15th, is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day.  It's kind of a depressing "holiday," but an important one to address a topic that is all to common but infrequently addressed.  People fall into one of three categories on this one - those who have never experienced pregnancy or infant loss firsthand and hope they never will (I'm not saying that disparagingly at all - of course you would never WANT to experience such a thing and of course there are lots of sub-categories here, but that's a topic for another day), those who have silently suffered such a loss, and those that are public about having lost a baby either in or out of the womb.  There's nothing wrong with any of those categories, but the day means different things to each of them. Personally, this blog has helped me move from category number 2 (not that my story was completely unknown, but I just didn't have much to say publicly on the matter) to number 3 over the past year.  It's been cathartic for me to share Joy's story, and from what I've witnessed, helpful to others too. 

So this year, on Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day, I have a couple of things to say.  First, if you have lost one or more pregnancies or babies, I extend my sincerest condolences.  I don't have any sage words for you, but I am happy to listen if you need an ear to chat; if you need someone to understand when you struggle with healthy babies around you and as you mourn what could have been I'm here. I'm not saying it's something you HAVE to talk about, but if you want to talk about it and don't know how or where or with whom to start, I'd be honored to hear about your little one.

When I was carrying Joy, my associate pastor's wife gave me a lovely book that really helped me deal with Joy's loss. It's called "Safe in the Arms of God" by John McArthur.  It's a small volume that talks about the theology of the death of a child.  As a Christian, I had always hoped/assumed that children who died would go to heaven, and that was enough for me.  (I also knew that children who die do not become angels, a common term in the baby loss community that really irks me.  People don't become angles! So please don't refer to Joy as my little angel.  Okay, stepping off my soap box now. Haha!)  But facing the loss of my own child, I wanted something a little more solid to back up that vague idea.  In his book, MacArthur makes a compelling Biblical argument to support the idea that all children who die in infancy are saved by the great mercy of God and are safe for eternity in the arms of a loving God.  I'd recommend to anyone who has lost a child or as a thoughtful gift to anyone you know walking this difficult road. 

Lastly, I want to share another song that has been special to us in our journey. (Yes, that's your cue to break out the tissues.)  The song is called "Hello, Goodbye" and is written and performed by Michael W. Smith. I haven't been able to find a ton of background information, but I know that it was written for a friend of Smith's who lost a baby who was just a few days old. The odd part is that this song is on a CD that I had in high school and college. I knew the tune and even the words, but somehow the actual subject matter had never registered in my brain!  I will confess that I don't like to listen to this song much anymore, because it was written for (and references) a baby named Noah, which is our younger son's name.  But it is still appropriate to share today, for all of those who have lost a child far too soon. I always liked to put Joy's name in the lyrics, although it was not quite the right fit rhythmically.  (After about 3 minutes, it gets a little repetitive, so feel free to just listen to the first half.) 

A Celebration of Life!

"I never thought I'd be doing this!" is the thought that came to mind repeatedly in the days immediately following Joy's birth and death.  Planning a funeral is never fun, but planning a service for your recently born child is particularly un-fun.

Before Joy was born, upon the recommendation of our pastor, we met with a very kind funeral director from Laughlin Memorial Chapel and made some basic plans. They were so gracious and generous to us and donated their services and even the tiny coffin for Joy.  If you ever need the services of a funeral home in Pittsburgh, I'd highly recommend them (there you go - I never would suspect that at the age of 35, I'd be able to personally recommend a funeral home!). 

God continued to provide for us materially in this time.  Many years ago, someone had donated some grave sites to Eric's parents' church.  I forget the exact sequence of events, but upon hearing of Joy's condition, they offered to give us not just one site for Joy, but three, so that we could be buried next to her when the time comes.  What a blessing!  Furthermore, the sites are in a beautiful, park-like cemetery that is just up the street from the apartment where Eric and I lived for a few months when we were newlyweds.  We would walk or run (me reluctantly) through that cemetery during that first summer of marriage having no idea the significance that this place would come to hold in our lives. 

Leading up to Joy's birth, we had planned to have a quiet graveside service with just our immediate families. When we met with our pastor after her birth, he suggested using the mausoleum at the cemetery where Joy was to be buried as it would be more comfortable for everyone and easier to gather.  Fine by me.  Then he gently suggested that we might consider inviting a wider circle of friends to Joy's service. I was slightly surprised by this idea and we went home to think about it after planning the rest of her service.  After giving it some thought, we decided that we really would like our family and friends who had so wonderfully supported us through our pregnancy to get a chance to be a part of the celebration of Joy'w life.  And so we invited many of our friends and issued an open invitation to our church family to attend Joy's memorial service. 

With our pastor's help, we planned a simple service that we hoped would be meaningful for both us and our family and friends.  The only thing that remained was figuring out what to wear. Haha! It sounds trivial, but it didn't feel trivial at the time.  I had no idea what size I would be after giving birth, so I couldn't get something in advance. So 2 days after giving birth, I headed out to the mall. Actually, WE headed out to the mall.  I was insistent that I could go by myself, but in retrospect, I'm so glad Eric came with me.  I'm not a huge shopper, but shopping for a dress at 3 days post-partum is probably at the top of my least-pleasant shopping tasks - another one of those things I never thought I'd be doing.  I kind of shudder thinking about it even now.  But in the end, we found a dress that fit and was at least moderately flattering given the circumstances.  Thank goodness that Eric was there to give an unbiased opinion and encourage me to spend more money than I had planned on the dress we found. I can still picture the checkout desk where I stood praying that the cashier would not ask me what the dress was for (and she didn't).  I hope I will never need that dress again, but it hangs in my closet as a memorial to that time in my life.

Leading up to the memorial service, the prayer of my heart was that my mind would be clear during the service.  I didn't want to go through the service in a fog; I wanted to be fully present and really celebrate my daughter's life.  Just in case, we had a plan B - we decided to set up a tripod and record the service. And I'm so glad we did and have a lasting remember of that special day.  But God really answered this prayer too.  I was calm and cool and can still remember the details of the day with clarity.  I actually felt more composed than many in attendance at the service. I was worried it would seem like I was uncaring or unemotional, but I'm hoping people knew otherwise.  For us, it was just one more step in this journey, but I think for many attending the service, seeing that teeny tiny casket brought such a physical reality to the situation that it was hard not to react.   Not that I enjoyed thinking about my daughter in that little white box, but the events of the past few days had prepared us for this as well. And of course, many of our friends have little ones of their own, so seeing that baby-sized casket hit particularly close to home.

That morning, we dropped Liam off at the church.  Our church graciously arranged childcare for anyone who wanted to attend the service so that we didn't have the distraction of little ones at the service.  Eric and I arrived early to the cemetery and drove past Joy's grave site. It was hard to see that hole that was so big yet so small awaiting out little girl.  From there, we drove to the mausoleum and took our seats in the front row without too much conversation.  A small crowd quietly gathered. In the end, there were about 50 people there. I made a list of them when I got home so that I wouldn't forget anyone who was there on that special day.

The best word to describe the service is "beautiful."  It's the word that I heard repeated by nearly everyone I talked to afterwards.  It wasn't long, but it was meaningful, from the songs sung to the words spoken.  So beautiful, in fact, that I would like to share part of it with you now.  Talk about a 180 degree shift from my initial plans of an ultra-private service, right?  It's only about 10 minutes, and I would love it if you would take the time to listen/watch. I think Pastor Wolling so eloquently summarized what I have taken 6 months to type here (and I'm not done yet - haha!).

I'm no theological expert, but I do know what I've learned about God through the process of carrying Joy and would be happy to talk to you if any of this strikes a chord or raises any questions.  And if I don't know the answer, I'd be happy to search them out with you. 

The Aftermath, part i

As you can tell by the title, this post might be a little depressing. Perhaps "aftermath" is too dramatic of a word, but I just wanted to share about the hours and days after Joy's birth and passing.  I still maintain that the days after her diagnosis were the hardest part of our experience with a fatal birth defect, but this was a close second.  Some of this might be hard to read (and some of it is hard to reflect on and put in to words!), but I think it's important to be honest about the hard parts.  I also know that this might be read by others who are expecting a child with anencephaly and so I want it to be an honest reflection of our experience.

So when I left off, Joy had just been born.  She quickly passed away, and that started the clock for the two hours we had with her before she was to be taken away for her organ donation procedure. I had such a mixture of emotions immediately after Joy was born.  Of course there was sadness, but there was also a sense of relief. Don't judge me yet - keep reading!  It had been a long and difficult five months, both physically and emotionally. I had done all I could over those months for my baby - keeping her alive, preparing for her birth, and trying to be a good mom to her big brother in the midst of emotional turmoil.  And after she was born, there was a sense of relief at having completed my task. I had done everything I could do for her and had done it to the best of my ability.  It almost goes without saying that I would have changed the outcome if I could, but I couldn't.   I'm sure the hormone surge from my natural birth helped, but immediately after her birth I was very calm and almost able to enjoy being with her.  I was proud of myself and of my little girl!  It was actually kind of strange, because everyone around me was in tears, but at this point I was just kind of serene and soaking it all in.

As you saw in the pictures, we spent most of the time together with our parents and siblings and Joy. We also had a plethora of handprint and footprint kits.  We got a couple sets of footprints on paper, a plaster mold of her footprint, and then a handprint on a ceramic bulb that I later had glazed. We had several other options of memorabilia, but I didn't want to spend all of my brief time with her trying to make physical memories.  No matter how many hand and foot prints and pictures I had, it would never be enough, so I decided to concentrate on being with her while we could.  In retrospect, I still agree with that decision. I treasure the prints I do have, but having more wouldn't do anything more to assuage my grief.

A few people have asked me if I have any regrets from my time with Joy or anything I would do differently. I only have one small regret.  In my preparations for her birth, I read a suggestion about choosing a scented lotion to apply to your baby so that you could later associate that smell with your child. I loved the idea, because as my sister can attest, I have an excellent sense of smell and have a lot of memories associated with scent. (We even play a game called "What does that smell remind you of?")  I spent a lot of time sniffing lotion and chose one that I thought was just right.  But then when the time came, I decided I didn't want to put it on her...her skin was so soft and perfect and I didn't want to change her natural smell or feel.  But now three years removed, I wish I had a scent to associate with her. I put her blankets in a plastic bag, but the smell has faded. I still have the lotion I picked for her, but I do wish I had applied it on her soft little arms and legs.

As 1:00 AM neared, our families said goodbye to us, and more importantly, to Joy.  It was the last time they would see her this side of heaven.  We spent a few moments with her alone, and then handed her off to our Nurse Joan* and the Organ Transplant Coordinator Alice* who carried her back to the operating room. I'm planning a separate post later about our organ donation experience from start to finish, so I will cover this in more detail then. I don't remember exactly how long she was gone - maybe an hour or two? We tried our best to nap then, but it was hard to fall asleep.

After her surgery, Alice carried her back to us.  It's a small detail, but I really appreciated the fact that they carried her in their arms to and from us, like the precious bundle she was, instead of wheeling her around in a bassinet or gurney.  It made me feel like they really cared for her as a person, not just an unfortunate incident or a source of donated tissue.  Anyway, they had bathed her and dressed her in the little white preemie outfit I had purchased for her and wrapped her up in her blanket.  They had told us that part of the procedure involved cooling her body down rapidly to preserve the tissue (I think - I'm a little fuzzy on the details).  All I know is that when she was handed back to us, she was very cold and stiff and her skin was very dark.  Honestly, it was horrible.  Right after she was born and passed, though her face was dark, the rest of her skin was soft and healthy looking and she seemed like a peacefully sleeping baby.  After her surgery, she just seemed cold and dead. Which of course she was, but now her appearance matched the reality and it was hard to deal with.

Eric crawled up in the bed with us and we snuggled her close, crying and talking and just trying to soak in the last moments that we had with her.  We listened to a few songs that we thought of as "her" songs.  At this point, we were absolutely exhausted, having been awake for nearly 24 hours.  We had made arrangements with the funeral home that we could call them when Joy had passed when we were ready to have them pick her up.  (Another small detail, but somehow I hated the idea of her sitting in the hospital morgue and would rather pass her directly to the funeral director. He was recommended by our pastor and was very kind and caring.)  We started to doze off, so we carefully placed her in the little newborn bassinet next to her bed and decided to take a brief nap. A big mess ensued here between the nurses and the funeral home and us and what was happening and I don't even really understand or remember it, but thankfully Eric took care of it and the funeral home was very gracious about the whole thing.

After our quick nap, I was somewhat refreshed. We found out that the funeral director was on his way, so we prepared to say our goodbyes to Joy. I am glad I had that time to recharge briefly before it was time to say goodbye to Joy.  We listened to her song one more time, snuggled and kissed her and told her we loved her and we'd see her again one day.  It felt so inadequate at the time - it's one of those moments in life that is surreal and hard and you just don't know what is right so you do the best you can.  And then Mike, the funeral director arrived, impeccably dressed in a suit at 6 AM, and we carefully handed our little pink bundle to him.  He treated as precious cargo, but it was still so very hard to hand your baby to a virtual stranger, knowing it is the last time you would ever hold her.

And so that was that. Just twenty-four hours before, I had woken in my bed at home, with Joy alive and kicking inside of me. Now we sat alone in the room where I had delivered her, having just handed her still body to someone to prepare her for burial.  Talk about a whirlwind!

Shortly after, we were transferred to a postpartum room. The hospital graciously put us on a surgical recovery floor instead of on the unit with all those brand new babies.  Physically I felt fine, so I was discharged from the hospital about twelve hours after Joy was born.  There just really wasn't a reason to stay any longer.  But what I can tell you is there aren't too many feelings worse than leaving a hospital, having just given birth, but without your baby.  It was awful!   (Looking back, I think that's why I was so set on staying at the hospital the whole time Noah was in the NICU. I did leave once or twice to go to Target or to get some food, but for most of the week, I just stayed camped out in the hospital. I was not mentally willing to come from that hospital without a baby again.)  And so Eric and I headed home on a hot Saturday afternoon, back to one curly redhead but without another. 

Happy Birthday, Joy!

(Sorry for being MIA lately. I do plan to continue telling the story of the days and weeks after Joy's birth, but today's post is a little different.)

Today is our daughter's 3rd birthday! It's hard to believe that Joy would be an energetic, opinionated, spirited (based on her brothers' personalities at least!) preschooler now.  I say that at every birthday - "it's hard to believe that Liam is 5" came out of my mouth several times over the past week - but in this case, it's really is nearly impossible to believe.  Joy will always be "baby Joy" to me.  I actually know of 4 little girls who were born to friends within a few months of Joy.  Honestly, at the time, that was really, really hard, and sometimes it still is.  But now, three years later, I am beginning to see it as a blessing as well.  I don't just have to imagine how big she would be and how she would be developing - I have living, breathing models of how Joy would be growing and changing.  

Of course, Joy isn't here to celebrate with us, so it's not your typical birthday celebration. Every year on this day, I struggle with how to spend the day and how to commemorate her birth and life. Birthdays in our family are kind of a big deal.  Not a big deal in an over-the-top "hire a petting zoo and give expensive gifts" kind of way, but a special day to celebrate you and another year of your life; a day to celebrate the past year of life and to look forward to what's to come; a day that's full of your favorites things and foods and places.  Liam woke up on his birthday and said "this day is all about me".  I told him the day was MOSTLY about him, not ALL about him, but he has a point.

But of course when the birthday girl is not alive, it's a little different celebration. It's hard to have a day "all about" a person that's not physically present; a person you never got to know. It's a day when nothing feels quite right.  I'm sure this sentiment is shared by anyone who has lost a child.  I'd love to sit quietly and peacefully all day and think about Joy and her life and life in general, but with two crazy little guys running around, that's not exactly feasible.  On the other hand, the lack of activity also feels wrong.  Our older son's birthday is just a few days before Joy's, and the week has been a flurry of fun activity - birthday treats and adventures, family and friends and food and gifts, telling friends and strangers that today is his big day.   It's actually the absence of activity that is hardest for me.  Especially on her first birthday, it was sad thinking of the excitement that is usually present at a first birthday party - the commemoration of so much growing in one year and of surviving that first hard year of parenting.  This year on Liam's birthday, though I enjoyed the day, a part of me couldn't help but think of what was missing. With their birthdays so close together, it probably would have been a shared party.  I had twinges of sadness as I thought that the dump truck cake should have had a princess driving the truck and its bed filled with glitter...or something ridiculous like that!  There should have been princesses and dresses sprinkled among the pile of car themed gifts. (Okay, I'm not a girly girl, so I don't actually miss the pinkness itself, just the life it represents! And yes, these are ridiculous gender stereotypes and not everything in our house is car themed, but there is a noticeable absence pink and glitter and princesses.)

But now today is quiet - it doesn't feel right to do anything too fun on this special day. I know other families do balloon releases or other large celebrations for their babies who have left this world too early, but that doesn't seem to fit my style either.  So we've made our own traditions.  We usually have an ordinary, quietish day at home.  Then in the evening, we take a balloon and some cupcakes to the cemetery and have a picnic near Joy's grave.  The first year we took Liam; last year Eric and I went by ourselves because I didn't want to be wrestling a baby and answering a curious 4 year old's questions about what we were doing.  This year, weather permitting, all 4 of us will go.  As Liam has grown, we've explained a lot more about Joy in the past year, so he now understands that today was her birthday and that's she's in heaven but it's still nice to think about her and celebrate her today. Then in the evening, we will probably watch the video of her memorial service.

(I need to get a better picture of her headstone, but I really love how it turned out. Those are her actual footprints etched into the granite. The verse is Psalm 139:13 "For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb.")

I certainly don't expect all of my friends and family to remember Joy's birthday (I definitely don't remember all of THEIR kids' birthdays!), but I treasure the few cards and messages that arrive every year around this time.  This isn't a plea for cards and messages, and I don't purport to speak for everyone who has lost a child, but I know people are sometimes unsure of what, if anything is appropriate on days like today.  I certainly fell in this camp before Joy was born.  From my new perspective, I think it's always helpful to send a card or a greeting of some kind.  It's not as if your card will suddenly remind that person of their loss - it's on their mind anyway, and for me, it's comforting to know that others are joining me in remembering Joy.  It doesn't have to be anything sage or spectacular - I think the importance is in the gesture itself. I have to say that sharing her birthday with all of you this year is really cathartic too - so thanks for allowing me to share Joy's life with you and for your encouraging comments along the way. 

I have to say that God has been gracious to me in giving me little reminders around Joy's birthday each year that though her life was brief, it was not without impact. On the day before Joy's first birthday, I was really at a loss about how to feel and what we would be doing the next day and was just kind of down.  Eric and I were on our way to a baseball game with my extended family, and stopped at a restaurant downtown beforehand. Eric went up to go to the restroom and was gone for a LONG, LONG time. I was starting to imagine he fell in or something!  Eventually he came back and told me that he had run into an acquaintance of ours from our old church.  After some small talk, the friend apologized for taking so long to deliver this message, but that he had heard about our daughter and was sorry for our loss.  He works in IT for the large hospital system that runs the hospital where Joy was born and went on to say that he had heard of our situation at work (names weren't mentioned, but he knew enough details to put two and two together and know it was us) and heard talk of how our decision to carry Joy and her birth really positively affected the nurses and staff at the hospital. When he was telling this story to Eric, he had no idea that the next day was her birthday, but I really felt like God used him to remind us that Joy's legacy was living on.  Even this week, I found out that this little blog has really been impacting someone's life in a positive way. 

This is getting long, so I'll close with a song that I think of as Joy's song.  Well, there are actually three of them altogether, but I'll save the other two for another day.  The song is called "I Will Carry You," and couple that wrote it (Todd and Angie Smith) also had a daughter with a fatal birth defect that they carried to term. They wrote a book by the same title if you're curious.  So grab a tissue and take a listen.  

So happy birthday, sweet girl. "I will carry you while your heart beats here, long beyond the empty cradle, through the coming years.  I will carry you all your life, and I will praise the One who's chosen me to carry you." 

Our Sweet Joy

If a picture is worth a thousand words, I've got 15,000 of them for you! 

We were blessed to have a photographer from Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep (NILMDTS) present to take pictures of Joy.  NILMDTS is a non-profit whose mission is to " introduce remembrance photography to parents suffering the loss of a baby with a free gift of professional portraiture".  They train and educate professional photographers who volunteer their time and talents to people in situations like ours. I think I mentioned it before, but Melissa Distel is the photographer who took picture of Joy for us, and we are so grateful for her service to us. 

I would love to share some of the photos of Joy with you, with two caveats:

1) The pictures are watermarked.  Not because I don't trust "you" (the you who I know in real life) but because I have seen firsthand others' pictures being taken and used in hurtful ways for purposes other than what they were intended for.  I'm sure someone could remove these watermarks if they wanted to, but hopefully they'll just move on to an easier target. I tried to put the marks on in a way that wasn't too distracting from the picture itself. 

2) I decided not to share any close-up photos of Joy's face.  The skin on her face was very dark, and her eyes were very prominent because of the malformation of the eye socket and the absence of the cranial bone.  (Here's a drawing if you'd like a visual.)  I'm not ashamed or embarrassed of how my daughter looked, but those images are not something that I'm willing to put on the internet, for reasons I described in #1 above. I kind of feel like Wilson in "Home Improvement" (I hope some of you get that reference) but decided that this level of sharing was what I was comfortable with. If you're curious (which is fine!), there are many pictures of babies with anencephaly here.  I'm also happy to share more pictures of Joy with you in person if you so desire. 

So without further ado, I present Joy Marie Salesky.  I hope that you can sense the love and the peace that was present during these precious moments with our daughter. 

Mother and daughter:

She had big feet, just like Liam did.

These keepsakes (and others) were provided by the hospital. This little leaf picture hung outside the door of our labor suite to let the staff know that it was a less-than-ordinary situation. I'm not sure exactly what situations they are used for, but I was shocked to see how many there were during my labors with both Joy and Noah.

She had my "finger toes" as Eric affectionately refers to my long toes.

This beautiful blanket was crocheted for Joy by a dear friend.  She makes blankets for each new baby in our group of friends and made this lovely white one for Joy.

 This is one of my favorites!

The outfit Joy was buried in. I wasn't sure which size she would need, so I bought one in Premie size and one in Newborn.  Even the Premie one was a bit big, but she wore that one and kept the other one as a keepsake. 

I hope you are blessed by seeing these pictures of our time with Joy.