Memorial Service Information

Thank you all for sharing the last months, weeks, and days of joy and sorrow with us.  We would like to invite you to share with us in celebrating God's goodness to us and to Arthur and to grieve with us for the loss of our son. 

Moments

Let the moment go.  Don't forget it for a moment, though.

One of our favorite musicals is Stephen Sondheim's Into the Woods.  The best song (in our humble opinion...) discusses "moments".  Moments are the "and" in life.  The fleeting bits of time that forever change you and forever stick in your memory.  Moments stand head and shoulders above the mundane experiences of life, the "or".

Yesterday was a series of "ands".  As we sit on our couch, back in the "or", we can't help but think of the last lines of this song.

Just remembering you had an "and" 
When you're back to "or"
Makes the "or" mean more
Than it did before

Here are some of the "ands" from yesterday that will continue to make our "or" mean more than it did before.

Our nurse spending literally hours in the room with Sarah as she labored, answering every question we had, asking questions we hadn't thought to ask, chatting with us about her family, and finding all the right moments to be funny, light, serious, and sweet

Our doctor walking in Monday morning and telling Sarah in his deadpan manner that the plan for the day was for her to do all the work.  The same doctor hugging us with tears in his eyes after delivering Arthur and caring for Sarah without distracting us for one moment while we enjoyed time with our son

Arthur turning his head toward his daddy when he heard his voice

Arthur snuggling on his mommy's chest

Whispering to Arthur how much we love him and how glad we are that there's eternity to come

Putting Arthur's newsboy hat on

Aletheia coming into the room right when we were putting a diaper on Arthur just like she likes to put a diaper on her baby doll

Seeing the instant love in the faces of all of our family as they first laid eyes on Arthur

Watching each person's wonder and anguish as they held our baby

Aletheia wanting a bracelet like mommy, daddy and "Arshur".  The nurse finding a pink bracelet for Aletheia that said "Big Sister".  Aletheia insisting that her bracelet was purple.

Evan's 6'5" brother holding our tiny little guy in his big hands

Staring at our son and noticing that he had his dad's mouth, one uncle's nose, another uncle's fingers and toes, and his big sister's cheekbones

Wishing we could have seen his eyes

The nurse who let us spend hours with our family after Arthur passed away, quietly taking care of everything without interrupting, leaving us to have time together and yet always being right there when we needed something

Spending an hour just the two of us, praying and crying over Arthur's body before saying goodbye

These moments are playing over and over in our minds, and we are so thankful for each one.  They will continue to fill our coming days with joy and with tears.

Our Son

Arthur Isaac Ramos entered the world at 5:34 this afternoon.  He had his daddy's mouth and his uncle's nose.  He snuggled with his mommy and recognized his daddy's voice.  He got to meet his big sister, his grandpas and grandmas, and his aunts and uncles.  He went peacefully to live with his Heavenly Father.

God answered your prayers and allowed him to join us safely and smoothly.

God answered your prayers and gave us a beautiful, precious, peaceful time together.

God is answering your prayers and is mending our broken hearts.

God answered your prayers and has already perfectly healed Arthur.

Dear Arthur

My dear son,

I can’t wait to meet you!  I want to see your little nose that, on all the sonogram pictures, makes you look so much like your big sister.  I wonder if you have my blue eyes or your daddy’s gray eyes.  I want to touch your little toes that have been kicking my ribs for the past few months.  I long to hold you in my arms. 

I can’t wait to see your daddy and your sister meet you.  You and I are already very close, you see.  I’ve “held” you in my womb for 9 months.  I’ve felt your wiggles and hiccups and kicks.  I can tell you’ve grown bigger and stronger.  I get to watch you on the sonogram at the doctor’s office often.  I know what foods you like (chocolate…duh!) and what time of day is your favorite (11pm-1am, just like your daddy).  But your daddy and your sister barely know you.  I want to see the wonder and love on their faces when they see you. 

Arthur, I want to hold you for much longer than I will be able to.  I don’t want to say hello and goodbye so quickly.  I want you to be a strong, healthy little boy.  I say all these things because I love you.  Because you are my son.  Because it seems best to me.  But Arthur, God loves you.  He loves you even more than I do.  I know this because He loves you so much He purposed to give up His only Son so that you and I could have eternal life.  This life here on earth is pretty amazing.  But it can be pretty awful too.  The eternal life God’s Son Jesus purchased for us when He died and rose again is only amazing.  If God would give up His only Son for you and for me, how can I doubt that He will only do the most loving and right things for you and for me? 

My baby boy, I have been praying for this day for a long time.  Praying for a miracle.  Praying for endurance and strength, both physical and emotional.  Praying for perfect timing.  Praying that you and I and the rest of your family will be able to soak in every moment of your life on earth.  Praying that those moments will be full of love and joy.  Praying that it won’t be too hard for you to leave me…for you or for me.  Not knowing how to pray and trusting the Holy Spirit, who knows my deepest heart, to intercede for me. 

Maybe God will answer my cry for a miracle.  Maybe someday you can read this.  Or maybe someday, in the perfect eternal life that God has given through His Son, you and I can marvel together at how God’s love and God’s plan were even more perfect than I could have imagined.  Either way, I love you so much. 

When the Answer is "No."

Mother and Child, Mary Cassat

A couple of weeks ago, my daughter and I were shopping through the dollar bins at Target and Michael's, looking for fun things to entertain her in the hospital waiting room.  I thought I liked the dollar bins.  My child likes them even more.  Every time we moved forward by a few inches so I could weed through the next bin, something else caught her eye.  "Peas?  Peas?"  "A-luh-luh, peas?"  (Add in a few head tilts and cheesy grins at mom in hopes that the answer will be "yes".)  A fellow shopper thought this was pretty funny.  "She's SO cute!  How do you ever say 'No!' to that?"

I have to admit, the lady has a point.  My grinning, polite, overly verbal toddler is hard to say "no" to.  The adorableness, the intelligence, the persistence, the joy when she gets what she wants...it's the complete package.  So, I don't go around saying "no" to her requests just to say "no".  When I say "no", I have a reason.

Of course, most of my reasons don't compute for her.  She doesn't understand when something may be unsafe.  Unnecessary.  Unhealthy.  Too expensive.  Not a priority right now.  Not the best.  She has to trust that I love her enough to give her any good thing that I have decided is good for her when I decide that it's good for her. 

I've noticed that I'm learning a lot about my spiritual life by parenting a toddler...that must be about the level of my spiritual maturity...  Conversely, my spiritual life makes me much more understanding of my toddler..we are so alike.

Because when I beg God my Father "Please, please?", I have to trust that He loves me even more than I love my daughter.  That He wouldn't be able to say "no" to me unless He had a good reason.  That even though I can't conceive of what His reason might be, there must be one.  It's hard to trust like that!  I find myself in the middle of the life wanting to cry "Please! Please!" louder and louder, just like my daughter in the aisles at Target, my polite requests becoming more and more like a temper tantrum.

Throughout this trial, God has answered my heartfelt cries many times.  He spared us from having to make a decision about how much treatment to pursue with Arthur.  He allowed Arthur to turn head-down.  He has brought financial provision in ways we hadn't imagined.

For the last two weeks, I've been begging "Please, please?" that we wouldn't have to schedule an induction.  The granola girl in me just didn't want to.  The protective mama in me wanted labor to be easy for my baby.  And every inch of me hated the idea of "choosing" when Arthur would be born. 

This week has even been full of full moons, thunderstorms, long walks, and all those other things that are supposed to send overdue women into labor.  But not me.  God has decided to say "No".

For the last couple of days I have wavered between hope that God will say "Yes", anguish that He hasn't said "Yes", and pondering why He might be saying "No".  And I've decided that I just don't know.  But that I DO know that He loves me even more than I love my adorable begging daughter, and He is only saying "No" because He has a good reason to do so.  Maybe I'll know why someday, maybe I won't.

We are going to the hospital tonight to begin the induction process.  I'd be so grateful for your prayers that everything goes smoothly and with as little stress on Arthur and on me as possible.  Please pray for our emotional and physical strength throughout the process and for sympathetic and skilled medical staff to be attending us.  We'll let you know how things are going! 

Waiting

Waiting is quite possibly my least favorite activity.

If you've been more than 40 weeks pregnant before, you know how little fun my current waiting game can be.  I remember waiting tearfully, anxiously, frustratedly for labor to start with my first pregnancy.  There's physical discomfort of the end of pregnancy - the dozens of extra pounds you are lugging around, the sleepless nights, the constant trips to the ladies' room.  There's the wild hormonal ride.  There's the little-kid "I can't wait to hold this baby!" giddiness.  The wild "Oh my gosh, am I really ready to be responsible for another human being and eternal soul?" fear.  The unknowns of labor and delivery, which only seem to grow in complexity as the days inch onward.  Wondering why "everyone else" seems to be able to go into labor just fine and on time.  The logistics of making sure there is nothing you have to do for a couple weeks and then going with life as usual while you wait.  Keeping all your family members and friends on edge.  Having to answer questions about your pregnancy for what seems like the millionth time.

And that's the "fun" of waiting in a perfectly normal pregnancy.

I'm finding that the emotional complexity of my current state of waiting can't really be expressed in words.  All of the above is true this time around just as it was last time.  But then there's guilt for wanting to go into labor.  Fear that an induction will be too much for my son's body to take.  Knowing that I can't convince myself to wait patiently by thinking of the wonderful things that will come at the end of my wait.  It's so much to feel all at once that I feel a little numb.

I think the reason I hate waiting so much is that waiting is the absence of activity.  Waiting is what you do when there is nothing you can do.  Which makes it odd that the first Bible verse with the word "wait" that pops into my head is one where the word is used as a command.  Something to do.

Wait for the LORD;
Be strong and let your heart take courage;
Yes, wait for the LORD.

Psalm 27:14, NAS

Notice the verse doesn't say "Wait for your baby to be born."  Or "Wait to say goodbye to your son."  It says "Wait for the Lord." 

The Hebrew word used for "wait" means to expect.  No matter what happens (or how long it takes to happen!), I can expect the Lord.  I can expect His presence, His love, His grace.

The word "wait" can also carry the sense of enduring or remaining, so there is something for me to do in the meantime.  I don't have to twiddle my thumbs while expecting the Lord.  Enduring is certainly an active endeavor.  To endure takes more effort than most other tasks I can think of.

So, I would greatly appreciate your prayers.  Prayers for my endurance, both physical and emotional.  It's been a long few months, and my endurance is wearing thin.  Pray that I would wait for the Lord, not for any real or imagined events in the future.  Pray for all the logistics that are involved (family and others getting to the hospital, my husband taking off work, planning for after Arthur's birth, etc).

Since my pregnancy is otherwise normal, my doctor would like to wait and see if I'll go into labor spontaneously.  This would be best for me and for Arthur.  If not, we will schedule an induction sometime after this coming weekend. 

Thank you so much for continuing to show us love through your prayers, words, gifts, and service.  Waiting is so much easier when you are not alone!

Moi-ning Moi-see

 

At bedtime, part of our routine is to sing a song together and then pray.  We have begun singing the same song for a few weeks in a row in the hopes that our daughter will begin to learn the song through repetition.  For the last few weeks we've been singing Great is Thy Faithfulness.

We knew our little plan was working when one night, as we were heading to her room to sing, she said "Moi-ning!  Moi-see!"  (That would be from the line "Morning by morning new mercies I see".) 

Let me just say that I LOVE toddler language.  Is there anything so overwhelmingly adorable as my child overpronouncing "MOI-see"?  I think not.  This is admittedly because I am a language acquisition nerd and a mommy with a heart full of love for her child.  But it's also because I am very much in love with those moi-sees my daughter is talking about.

That line from Great is Thy Faithfulness is taken almost directly from Lamentations 3:22-23.

The Lord’s lovingkindnesses indeed never cease,
For His compassions never fail.

They are new every morning;
Great is Your faithfulness.

This is one of those passages.  The ones that everyone quotes to people who are suffering.  And not without reason...after all, I can't think of many better promises to hold on to in the midst of the troubles of life.  It's a promise that comes from the mouth of a man who is suffering beyond belief.  A promise that comes in the middle of a passage describing pain and utter despair. A promise we all need at some point in our lives.

It's one thing to trust that this promise is true.  To hear these words from the mouth of friends, family, and your daughter who can't really put a sentence together.  To sing Great is Thy Faithfulness, telling yourself and others that you know these words are true.

It's an entirely different and more amazing thing to have God Himself show you that this promise is true.  Words are powerful, but experience is even stronger.  My experience over the last months has brought these words to life for me. 

Notice the word "mercies" or "compassions" is plural.  Jeremiah isn't just talking about God's general character, as in "God is merciful and compassionate every morning."  That is a true statement about God.  But this verse seems to be saying more.  Perhaps we could paraphrase it "God does many different merciful and compassionate things for you every morning."

And let me tell you, this is also a true statement about God.  His mercies are plural.  There's more than just a vague, general niceness to God.  He shows His steadfast love, His compassion, His undeserved favor in more ways than we can count.  Every day.  Have you ever stopped for a moment to list the loving, kind, compassionate, merciful, beautiful things that you experience in a day?  Try it sometime.  It might take more than a moment.  

I don't know if it is that God's mercies seem more abundant in the middle of a storm because they are so starkly contrasted to some of the ugly difficulties of life, or if God makes sure that more of those mercies populate the days of those who are suffering.  Either way, the mercies God has given me are many.

Also tied up in the plurality of the word "mercy" is variety.  God doesn't just have a few different kinds of mercies that He doles out.  Every good thing given comes from Him.  As an uncreative person, this is particularly amazing to me.  Thinking of unique Christmas gifts for our immediate family members taxes my capacity to imagine and provide good things.  But God can dream up mercies in unending variety.  Lots of different ones, just for me.  He knows what kind and lovely things will bring joy to my heart, even though I'm a moody pregnant woman who can't even figure out for herself what she wants from one minute to the next.  

Just so you have a modest example of the multitude and variety of mercies God has given me, let me share with a few of them from the last day or two:
The fall breeze
Chocolate
My daughter singing
Getting a pedicure (or getting a chance to sit still and quiet for 45 minutes...)
A Bible study that was basically written for me
Sitting on the couch and talking with my husband
A bunch of sweet texts and emails when I was having a rough morning
A clean house that I didn't have to clean by myself 

What beautiful moi-sees!  Looking at this list makes me hopeful and excited to see what mercies tomorrow will hold.