Aimee Jones Pregnancy After Loss

High Risk

Just a few hours before we found out we were pregnant again, Daniel and I were talking with a wise friend after church. We were talking about losing Ginny and how it can be difficult to hear of others giving birth to living babies. She said that as a community of friends, we agree to walk with each other through the good and the bad. She described how she recently attended a Jewish wedding. In the Jewish tradition, the bride and groom break a glass. Breaking the glass is acknowledging that they are forming this covenant in a broken world. The world is full of pain, suffering, and risk, but they choose to take the risk and support each other – with the help of God. 

Later that day, I took a positive pregnancy test. I remembered our friend’s story of the Jewish wedding. Daniel and I discussed it; we have chosen to bring a child into this world, knowing full well it is broken. Unlike the last pregnancy, we know there is risk and there is pain and there is loss in this world. We acknowledge it, and we still took the risk. But we will be there to support each other and our children – with the help of God.

My pregnancy has been classified as “high-risk”. After all the test results were evaluated by a few different doctors, the true cause of Ginny’s death is still unknown. All we know is that Ginny had intrauterine growth restriction (aka she was small) and the placenta was small and unhealthy. All the conditions that Ginny and I were tested for came back negative. We don’t know exactly what happened. Because of this, there is a “high” risk that it will happen again. The doctor explained that “high” means 1/100, so most likely I will have a healthy living baby. The statistic doesn’t mean much to me. Once you realize it can happen to you, you are always aware it can happen to you. 

Since I am high-risk, I see special OBs called Maternal Fetal Medicine (MFM) doctors. I will get much more monitoring. My ultrasounds will be more frequent and a lot more thorough. I take low-dosage aspirin daily. The doctors won’t let me go past 39 weeks, and they said if I am really anxious, they will induce at 37 weeks. That’s why my due date (40 weeks) is July 28, but I know I will deliver no later than July 21. I feel good about this plan.

If only I had more monitoring during my pregnancy with Ginny, maybe they would’ve noticed she wasn’t growing, maybe they would’ve seen the placenta wasn’t healthy, maybe they would’ve induced me, maybe she would’ve spent a little time in the NICU and then come home, maybe she would be in my arms right now. 

I hate to have regrets, but one of my biggest is not getting a third trimester ultrasound. When my mom visited to help set up the nursery in mid-February last year (two weeks before Ginny died), she offered to take me to a private ultrasound clinic to get pictures of Ginny. I knew that would probably cost a few hundred dollars. “We will see her in person in just 6 weeks. We shouldn’t spend money on that. Plus she is so big and smooshed in there; we probably wouldn’t get a good face picture.” … Worst case scenario, we would’ve had more pictures of Ginny – pictures that I would’ve treasured forever. Best case scenario, they would’ve caught that she was small and sent me to the doctor. We could’ve saved her! Oh, what I wouldn’t spend on that ultrasound knowing what I know!But of course, I didn’t know any of this then. I made what I thought was the smartest decision.  

As painful as that “what if” is, it does give me some comfort for this pregnancy. The doctors say that what happened to Ginny didn’t happen overnight. Even if the same thing were to happen again, we would hopefully catch it in time! When I get to a point, I will be getting weekly ultrasounds and non stress tests. If I get far enough along for viability, it is likely that this baby will survive. I hope. 

It is worth the risk. 

Aimee Jones Pregnancy After Loss

Pregnant Again!

Ginny is a big sister! That’s right. We are pregnant again! I am 14 weeks along with a baby due in July. We are very happy and hopeful but also scared and feeling every emotion.

The doctors told us I needed to wait at least 6 months after Ginny’s stillbirth to be physically ready. Sometimes that 6 months felt long. I had the instinct and desire to care for a baby right away. My empty arms ached to hold my child ASAP. But I knew we weren’t emotionally or mentally ready for another baby. The 6 month mark came and went. We still weren’t ready. 

As a couple more months passed, I realized we should either get pregnant before the end of the year or wait until after Ginny’s birthday in February. I had so much anxiety during the first trimester last pregnancy. I knew it would be too hard to be in the first trimester during her birthday. I wanted to be into the 2nd trimester before February came. Toward the end of October, we decided the time was coming to start trying again. I prayed…

Oct 18, 2019

Dear Jesus, 

Please be with us on this journey to try to conceive. I know you are. 

Please let everything happen in your timing. 

You know our hearts. You know we want to bring a healthy baby home and watch him or her grow into adulthood, knowing you. 

But you are the creator and sustainer of life. Your will be done. 

We know your purpose and understanding are greater than ours. We trust in you. Whether you give or take away, blessed be your name. 

Help us to serve you in joy and pain. 

Help us not to fear or be anxious. Help us to celebrate and rejoice in all and any life. Let our previous loss and despair not steal joy from our hearts of our future children. 

Help us to always remember and honor Ginny. Please let her know we love her so much. Guide us as we teach our future children about her and about eternity. Thank you for hope. 

Give us wisdom in decisions. Guide our paths and help us remember you are in control and not take on more than what is ours. 

Help us enjoy the journey and have love and hope in our hearts and minds. Thank you for your grace which is sufficient.

“There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.” – 1 John 4:18

Amen.

On November 17 I took a positive pregnancy test. Daniel was with me. We looked in disbelief at the two lines and then the digital “yes” of the second test. We are very blessed and grateful to be able to get pregnant right away. We couldn’t believe it! Although we should’ve predicted it because that’s what happened with Ginny too. We were excited and happy, but we also needed time for it to sink in. We told our families and asked them to pray. They were all so happy. 

The next morning I opened my Bible App and read the verse-of-the-day as I do everyday. On Nov 18 the scripture was, “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear” 1 John 4:18. God reminded me of my prayer exactly one month earlier. 

Before I was pregnant, I thought I would want to announce right away. I thought I would just want to celebrate every moment of this new life with as many people as possible. But when I actually became pregnant, something was holding me back. It wasn’t a fear of loss, although I had that fear. I knew I would share my journey no matter what. I think what was holding me back was the “Congratulations.” It is the appearance that everything is okay now, that we are all better and moved on. This new life is wonderful and miraculous and joyful, but it doesn’t take away the pain and loss of Ginny. It’s so complex.

And then there are the triggers. My heart breaks a little when I think of buying baby items or decorating a nursery. Those are still triggers. That’s why I was resistant to telling people.

When someone asks, “How are you feeling today?” in a cheery voice, I think… How am I feeling today? Do you want me to describe my pregnancy symptoms? The symptoms that I scrutinize to assess the health of a person the size of an apple seed? This apple-seed-sized person who I am entirely responsible for and yet have entirely no control over? How am I feeling today? I feel like I miss Ginny and I love Ginny. I feel like I am scared for this baby and I love this baby. So…  “I feel fine.”

I don’t know where to look.  If I look at baby stuff and make plans for the future, I am surrounded by what we don’t have with Ginny. That breaks me. If I look to the baby loss community that has comforted me so much in the last 11 months, I am reminded of the very real possibility of another loss. I’m in this in-between place, and it all depends on my mood. I may need to change topics quickly if I feel a shift. 

So far I’ve had three different kinds of days: 1) I feel hopeful and am so happy to be pregnant, 2) I feel pretty certain we will lose this baby. On these days every time I go to the bathroom I half-expect to see blood, and 3) I almost forget we are pregnant. It doesn’t even seem real yet. Is this really happening? 

I know people want me to be positive. I want to be positive, but I’m not going to pretend. It’s not a “fake it ’til you make it” situation. It’s not an “overcome it” situation either. It’s a “trust” situation – it is a “trust either way” situation. I’m going to do my best every day. Some days I will feel like celebrating. Some days I will feel like crying. It’s complicated. Thanks for being patient with me. 

The baby is no longer the size of an apple seed. According to the internet, he or she is the size of a peach. 🙂 It is finally starting to sink in that I’m pregnant again. I’m finally starting to entertain the possibility of bringing this baby home. I’m very grateful. I do want to celebrate together, through my rawness. 

I am excited to share this journey with you! I have so much to tell you about my first trimester, my prenatal care, ultrasounds, finding out the sex, naming the baby, and all the feelings along the way. We have a long way to go. Thank you for your prayers and support!

Aimee Jones Concerning Suffering

Woodwork / True Love

Woodwork by Sleeping at Last

i hear your heart
as it beats beneath
the sound of crashing cars.
as the sirens pour
into every street
surrounding us,
our world caves in on us
and makes us new.

all our love came out of the woodwork.
all our strength came out of the woodwork.
we only notice light
when darkness crashes against it.
we only notice light
deep in the woodwork.

i still hear the song
as it rings beneath the sound
of shattered glass.
in the aftermath,
the melody, it carries on
while we come undone,
and makes us new.

all our love came out of the woodwork.
all our strength came out of the woodwork.
we only notice light
when darkness crashes against it.
we only notice light
deep in the woodwork.

it’s a cruel, cruel trick
how we find ourselves
when we lose everything else.
like a train wreck,
the sound of your breathing hits my ears.
our world reappears
and it breaks us new.

all our love came out of the woodwork.
all our strength came out of the woodwork.
all our trust came out of the woodwork.
we only notice light deep in the woodwork.

I loved this song before losing Ginny, but after losing Ginny it became so much more real to me. The song is about how love, strength, and trust “come out of the woodwork” during a difficult time. It’s a beautiful idea, and it is so true. 

My love for Daniel grew so much deeper during our loss. In the whirlwind of shock and grief, we clung to each other. God drew close to both of us at once; it was so obvious. He pulled us together in love. 

I don’t know what I would do without Daniel. He takes such good care of me. In the first days after Ginny’s birth, he followed me around the house to make sure I was never alone. He was always near if I needed a hug. He knew me well enough to know that’s what I needed.

We listen to each other and try to be aware of what the other needs. When one of us has a wave of grief hit, the other is there to talk to or distract or just hug. When we both are heavy hearted, we are there to cry in each others arms. Knowing we have each other really does give us strength to get through this. 

I knew Daniel was an amazing husband, but I had no idea what an incredible man he really was. In the darkest, hardest moments, he was everything. Even though we have lost so much, I can’t help but feel blessed at how much love we have. 

We aren’t an anomaly. At my job, I have the honor of interacting with families going through serious illness or injury. One thing that has stood out to me so loudly is how much love there is. I witness true love. It’s not a fairy tale “true love’s first kiss” kind of love. It is far more magical than that. It is the “in sickness and in health” kind of love. True love. True devotion. People who care for each other in powerful and meaningful ways. They make each other laugh, encourage each other, do everything together, and serve each other so well. When one becomes weak, the other is there lifting them up. It’s heartwarming and inspiring. 

I’m sure that love is always there, but it does have a way of coming out of the woodwork when we need it most. It’s healing and hopeful and amazing. I’m so grateful for it. 

Aimee Jones Faith-Based Encouragement

Joy

One of my main hopes for 2020 is for more joy. The kingdom of God is about peace and joy in the Holy Spirit (Romans 14:17). The pain of 2019 has lead to an expanded understanding and appreciation. That all yields joy, but on a daily basis, I need reminded. Each day I wake up to our loss, all we don’t have, and the uncertainty of the future. After those thoughts creep in, I need to shift my thinking and remind myself of what we do have and what we do know. What we do have – love, lots and lots of love. 

“Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy!” Psalms 126:5

I think of the moments I feel the most joyful. I get a rush of joy in my heart when I feel the sun shine on my face. I’m not sure why, but for years the sun shining on my face has reminded me of God’s love. I get such joy at that thought! 

I also have the most joy when spending time with Daniel and others I love. Eating together, playing games, joking around, or snuggling on the couch are all things that bring me joy because I have so much love. 

For me, love brings joy. So I’ll focus on the love in my life. When I focus on my love for Ginny, my grief is joyful. When I focus on the love of God & family and eternity in heaven, my future is joyful. When I focus on the love of those around me, my day is joyful. 

“And do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.” Nehemiah 8:10

It’s okay to need reminders. It is easy to slip into fear or to slip in to sadness. It’s okay to feel those feelings, but it is also okay to remind yourself of love and joy. And it’s okay to experience it all. I feel like I experience it all within an hour sometimes. 

I want the core of my life to be love though. I want joy to burst at the seams of every area, even my grief. That is possible. It is possible to be full of joy and grief because it all comes from love. And my grief is not a hopeless grief. My love for my daughter is still alive in me, and my daughter is still alive in heaven. I can have joy in that! I do have joy in that!

“But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep.” 1 Thessalonians 4:13-14

Aimee Jones Uncategorized

Helpful Resources

I couldn’t have made it through this past year without the love and support of family and friends and lots of prayer. I also found a lot of help and comfort from several other resources. I wanted to share those here. I cannot explain how valuable these books, podcasts, and songs have been to me. When I am feeling despair, they point me back to hope and love. I’ve read a lot over the past year, but these were the resources that stuck out to me. I really hope others may also find support through them. I’ve bolded the ones that were particularly impactful.

Books: 

  • Loved Baby by Sarah Phipott, PhD*
  • Anchored by Erin Cushman*
  • A Grief Observed by CS Lewis*+
  • It’s OK to not be OK by Megan Devin+
  • Inheritance of Tears by Jessalyn Hutto*
  • 7 Lessons from Heaven by Mary Neal MD*+
  • Once More We Saw Stars: A Memoir by Jayson Greene
  • Choosing to SEE by Mary Beth Chapman*
  • The Unspeakable Loss: How do you live after a child dies? by NIsha Zenoff, PhD

Podcasts:

Blogs: 

There are so many wonderful blogs about grief and baby loss, but these are two that I find extremely helpful.

Music: 

Instagram Accounts:

*Faith-based; +General grief, not only baby/child loss

There are so many amazing resources out there, and these are just a few that I stumbled upon at my local library or googling around. If you have some other helpful resources, please share them in the comments. 🙂

Aimee Jones Milestones & Anniversaries

Hope for 2020

2019 was the biggest year of my life. I felt emotions I didn’t even know existed. I started out thinking it would be the best year yet, and I ended up being proud I survived. It was the hardest and most painful year, and yet it was the most enlightening and transformative. Today I’m not who I was January 2019. 

Now 2020…One of my lessons of 2019 was that I have no control so it’s hard for me to think about making plans for 2020. I know whatever plans I make will likely not go to plan. Even so, I can have hope for 2020. I hope for more joy and more peace. I hope that I keep growing and learning. I hope that the path God has for me continues to become clear.

My hope for all of us is that our love and kindness strengthen. I hope that bitterness and fear fade away. I hope we remember that in both life and death we are not alone. I hope you know you are loved. 

I hope we all have a big year in 2020 but big in the greatest way. I hope for a big, life-giving, love-flowing year!

“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.” Jeremiah 29:11

Aimee Jones Uncategorized

Born to Die

If you’ve lost a baby like I have, it may feel particularly hard to celebrate a holiday all about a young mother giving birth to a perfect baby. It seems there are triggers all around. 

I remind myself that the reason we celebrate the birth of Jesus is because he was born to die. He was born and lived a sinless life only to suffer the punishment of sin in our place. Because of Jesus’s birth and death, God knows what it’s like to lose a child. Because of Jesus’s birth, death, and resurrection, our children experience life and love in heaven. Because of Jesus’s birth, death, and resurrection we will be reunited one day. That’s something to celebrate! 

You may still not feel like celebrating this year, and that’s ok. There are more years to come.

Aimee Jones Concerning Suffering

Comfort Zone

When someone experiences loss, they not only have to face their new reality, but they also are bombarded with philosophical and societal questions. These questions would be hard to face in the best of times. 

Do I actually have no control?

Why did this happen?

Was God in control? How could he let this happen?

What does this mean about my reality?

How would my situation be different if I was in a different place or time?

How would grief be handled differently if I was in a different place or time?

Could this been prevented? Should this be prevented?

These questions expand your world view. You think differently than you once did. You realize that we truly do live in a broken world. 

It becomes impossible to go back to sitting atop your Maslow hierarchy pyramid, staging your perfect Instagram picture.

You can’t help but see your neighbor in the depths of their own pyramid. You have to jump down to meet them there – maybe to help, but most likely to just be present with them there. 

When you see the fullness of life that’s brought forth through suffering, you don’t shy away from suffering the way you once had. You don’t ask advice from the person with the perfect life you’ve always wanted. You now ask the person who has been through the wringer. You aren’t afraid of interacting with people in pain. In fact, sometimes it’s easier to interact with them than the “happy” people. 

When you witness or experience suffering it is often difficult to go back to “normal” life. Many people don’t go back. Students on a missions trip choose to be full-time missionaries. Patients become doctors or nurses. People become social workers, first responders, service men and women, foster parents. These people run toward suffering, knowing their life will be fuller. A comfortable life is not a full life. A pretty life is not a full life. Love is more powerful in pain than it is in comfort. 

Most of us face suffering because we have no choice, but once you have faced it, you find yourself able to walk with others who are going through hardship. That’s a gift. 

You see suffering in places you never looked before. You may have ignored the experiences of someone different from you. You now see their pain, and you don’t look away. You stay there with them. You try to understand. 

Reaching out of my comfort zone used to mean giving a big presentation at work or signing up for a challenging project. It was an opportunity to expand my skills and climb the ladder. Now stepping out of my comfort zone is talking to people I wouldn’t have, admitting things I used to never admit, sharing my heart, and truly listening to others. There’s much more love in these things. 

Aimee Jones Milestones & Anniversaries

How to parent a child who is not here this Christmas

I’m still her mom. I still have all the desire to mother her this Christmas… and everyday. But how does one mother a child who isn’t here? These are my plans. I’ll let you know how it goes. 

Keep Her Memory

  • Talk about her. Bring her into conversation. 
  • Remember last Christmas when I was carrying her. 
  • Hang an ornament for her. Our amazing friends Katie and Josh had a beautiful one made for us.
  • Hang her stocking as a visual reminder that we have a daughter in heaven.

Create Traditions

  • Donate Christmas gifts to a child in need each year (Angel Tree, Toys for Tots, etc). We will use the money we would’ve spent on Ginny for Christmas. I’ve asked our family to do the same.
  • Write her a letter every year and place it in her stocking. My mom planned on doing this since we first lost Ginny.

Do Good on Her Behalf

  • Have a day of random acts of kindness in honor of Ginny. I heard of a family who does this and hands out little cards that say, “Random Acts of Kindness in honor of ___. Pass it on!”
  • Volunteer for an organization that helps those going through hard times.

Acknowledge My Loss

  • Give myself grace about how I feel during Christmas; lower expectations if needed.
  • Give myself space to step away if I need to; communicate to family that this might be needed.
  • Know this is hard.

Celebrate the Hope of Christ

  • Because Jesus came, death is not the end. We will be reunited with Ginny!
  • The glory of Jesus is real to us in a new way this year. Rejoice in that!