Kelly Gerken, Author at Sufficient Grace Ministries

Walking With You – Waiting

February 6, 2023 by Kelly Gerken

This week we are sharing our experience after we heard the news that changed our lives. If you are joining us for the first time, or if this topic doesn’t apply to you, please share part of your journey anyway. I know the Lord will use our stories to encourage those walking this path.

If you are a mother who has heard the words incompatible with life, what happened next for you? Share about the waiting if your journey continued. How did you walk that path? What were some of your feelings? What did you do to form lasting memories? What were your struggles? Things you found comfort in? If you chose to induce labor and deliver the baby, rather than waiting, you are welcome to share your story, as well. Although we would encourage a mother to continue her pregnancy, if possible, this is a place to come for love, comfort, support, and healing. And all are welcome. We are all mothers who loved and wanted our babies, babies who are no longer with us. We want to minister to each other in the place we are in, no matter how we ended up here.

Sharing the Journey

Faith and Grace

My time waiting with Faith and Grace after the diagnosis of twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome was sort of a whirlwind and much of my time and energy was spent on survival. Mine and theirs. The size of my uterus was pushing on my organs – heart, lungs, stomach, all digestive areas, bladder – you name it. I was measuring more than 43 cm at just 20 weeks. And, that was a lot for my 5’3″ frame.

The magnesium sulfate was no fun and brought its fair share of unpleasantries to the table. I vomited bile and blood as my uterus stubbornly contracted, and the mag doses continued for about a week. They gave me various meds to help control my growing list of symptoms. I spent many hours that first week listening to women laboring in the rooms on the OB floor and would pray, thanking God for every newborn cry, wondering if my babies were born right now if I would be able to hear them cry. When I asked the nurse in the middle of the night, she shook her head… “Probably not…”

I was then transferred to a high-risk specialist who officially diagnosed the twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome and admitted me for an amniocentesis procedure to remove the fluid from the sac and relieve the twins from its effects, as well as my poor overwhelmed organs.

My uterus contracted painfully, and I shook uncontrollably. They drained liters of fluid from me, as med students surrounded my bed like I was a specimen. Except for one. One stepped out from among them and looked on me with compassion, speaking words of comfort. I spent another week or so vomiting blood that looked like coffee grounds as my esophagus was shredded.

During that week, I had daily ultrasounds to monitor my girls. We had named the “bigger twin” Faith and the “smaller” was Grace. I looked forward to that time each day, soaking in the images of my precious daughters. Faith would quietly suck her thumb and Grace swam wildly about, bumping her sister and everything else in her path. I knew them, because they were my own. I imagined Faith’s quiet strength…like her daddy. And Grace’s feisty spirit…like her mama and grandma Kathy. We dreamed of pink lace and ribbons and a nursery filled with two of everything.

Much of the rest of my time was spent just trying not to throw up and to endure the discomfort. My heart was palpitating. Sometimes it was hard to breathe. There was a lot of pain – contractions, discomfort, and the constant vomiting were taking their toll. My liver was starting to malfunction as well. Churches all over were praying for me and the girls, and we plowed on. After weeks of the vomiting and not eating, they began giving me nourishment through the IV, like someone may get in a coma, I think.

Then, just as quickly as the vomiting came, it stopped. My mother was bringing me sweetened iced tea. She had learned where it was on the floor so that I didn’t have to wait for the busy nurses. The other thing that sounded good was this popcorn that they sold in a big bag at the gas station in our hometown. Tim gladly brought me some. Much to the perplexed gastro-intestinal doctor’s dismay…gas station popcorn was the first food I kept down in weeks. And, it was wonderful.

I was released from the hospital with plans to return for an appointment a few days later. During an ultrasound, our doctors were concerned with the condition of Faith’s heart and sent us promptly to the pediatric heart specialist at another hospital. She was in heart failure. It was the first time that I let myself even consider that we might lose one of our babies – an unthinkable realization. Mine were going to be among the 20 percent that emerged from this syndrome unscathed. My mind had not even allowed the possibility that they wouldn’t make it to term. These were my girls – daughters from a long line of strong women. We had prayed and fought this battle hard. They would make it. But that day, I couldn’t catch my breath and the possibility smothered me. I was given steroid shots to hasten lung maturity and told that I would probably deliver soon.

Thomas

The news of Thomas’ life-limiting condition, Potter’s Syndrome, brought with it a choice. We were told that we had about a week to decide if we wanted to induce labor early, terminating the pregnancy or if we wanted to continue the pregnancy, knowing that our baby, short of a miracle, would die. There were four more months. I’ll be honest, the answer didn’t come right away for me.

Yes, I am a pro-life Christian. But, this didn’t seem so black and white. At least not the way it was presented. The doctors had described what happens to babies who grow in a womb for months without amniotic fluid…the deformities and contusions. My own regular OB doctor (not our amazing Dr. M – the maternal-fetal medicine specialist) had advised us to induce labor, saying if it were his own wife he would not prolong the inevitable but would perform the procedure immediately. This was a man who had walked with me through the loss of the twins. Who had stroked my hair compassionately when I was confused and consumed with grief after another procedure performed from delivery complications.

I consulted Christian friends, who gathered with me around my kitchen table talking and praying. I talked with nurses who had walked through this with us. I wrestled with the image of asking my family to walk through this again, knowing the grief that we had already endured.

Could I ask Tim to look at me for four more months, knowing that I carried a baby who would die? And, poor Timothy – would this be what he thought of when he thought of pregnancy – sorrow, loss, the robbing of joy? Could our family walk through this again? Could we handle the waiting? I didn’t know what to do.

Tim was fairly quiet on the subject. So, I prayed day and night. I searched the scriptures. It was Holy Week, and I had been reading the parts leading up to Jesus’ crucifixion. I came to the verses documenting the conversation between Pontius Pilate and Jesus, and the Lord spoke the answer to my heart, as I read about Pilate washing His hands of the situation. The decision didn’t need to be in our hands. We could just leave it to Jesus. We chose to wait – to trust Him to carry us and our baby through this journey.

If you are reading this and made a different choice, whether because of medical necessity, feeling this option was the best for your family, or just not having a full understanding of the options (many doctors don’t even present the option to continue), please know that we understand how difficult it is to face this impossible situation – this choice that no parent should have to face. We know that we are all parents who loved and wanted our precious babies. Whatever the path to this point, we are now parents who have grieved the loss of our children. And there is healing in the arms of the Lord for all of our hurts.

So, what was it like – waiting with Thomas? I wish I could say that I knew I could fully embrace our time with Thomas…like my beautiful friends, Angie and Stacy and so many of you I have had the blessing of meeting. You have inspired me…to see your strength to cherish every moment of life you are given with your baby. It was before all of the wonderful organizations we have today. There was no Sufficient Grace Ministries or Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep organizations to photograph my pregnancy or the meeting of Thomas. No perinatal hospice and no Waiting With Gabriel. No String of Pearls. We were charting our own path, and it was lonely at times. I regret that I didn’t know how to do it as beautifully as some of you have, that I had doubts and fears that often overshadowed my hope.

I prayed every day that our decision to carry him was not causing him harm – that he was still alive. I prayed for a miracle, believing with all my heart that God was able, while still planning a funeral. Because of the lack of amniotic fluid, I felt little movement, so there were few indications that Thomas was still alive and well. I literally lived from ultrasound to ultrasound when I could see my sweet Thomas and know that he was still with me.

I worried about my oldest son’s grief; about all the sorrow he had endured at such a tender age (he was 4 at the time). I felt the burden of the sorrow caused in Tim’s heart from seeing his wife pregnant, knowing that the baby within my womb would die. And the grief would overwhelm us once more. The pain tore at our hearts and our marriage. We held on, but sometimes it felt like only by a thread.

I sang to Thomas and stroked my belly and talked to him. I chose an outfit. I searched online for some missing miracle answer. I consulted other doctors. Talked incessantly to Ginny (who walked courageously with me) and Dinah and others who would listen. I cried, prayed, and clung more desperately than I ever have in my life to God’s Word.

I never regretted for a moment our decision to carry sweet Thomas, for giving him a chance at life -and even more so in the moment we finally met him- but more on that in the next post. I struggled with faith; did I not have enough? If I did, would Faith and Grace have lived…would Thomas live…if I could just figure it out. And, God gave me the answers. He taught me about believing without seeing as I stumbled in the fog…hoping that I didn’t fall of the cliff before me…wondering if I did, would He catch me? The answer was yes. I might fall off the cliff, and if I did, He would catch me.

Looking back, I can see His hand carrying us through that time. But, in the moment, I couldn’t always see or feel His presence. I felt overwhelmed with the unknown. And, what I learned in the thick of that fog was that true faith wasn’t the absence of doubt or fear. It was trusting God anyway when you are most afraid and filled with doubt – when the answer isn’t what you hoped or there seems to be no answer at all. I looked to Jesus as the author and finisher of my faith, wanting desperately to do it right. And what I found is that it’s not about my ability to do it right, but about my God who is able to carry me no matter what. I have written about believing without seeing, the truth about the saying, “God doesn’t give us more than we can handle”, and what faith looks like. Click here to read more about the journey of Faith, Grace, and Thomas.

A few more excerpts from previous posts:

I couldn’t sleep that night. The tears wouldn’t stop. The pain wouldn’t subside. There was nowhere to find relief. Desperate for comfort. Desperate for hope. Just desperate, I searched the scriptures, struggling to read through my tears. “Jesus is my example,” I thought. “Show me, Lord. Show me the way to walk this path. I want to please you… I want to trust you…but I don’t want to lose another child. My heart is broken…”

The first verses I read were in Hebrews 12:2 …looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Two truths slammed into my heart. 1. Jesus endured the cross, despising the shame. It wasn’t easy for Him. 2. He did it for the joy set before Him. There was a purpose…our salvation and His glory.

There would be joy on the other side of the suffering. Then, I looked to Luke 22:39-44 and focused for the first time on the agony of my Savior. What did He do when He was in agony? He prayed. He asked the Father three times “Father, if it is your will, take this cup away from Me”. Then He said, “nevertheless not my will, but Yours be done.” Then, an angel appeared and strengthened Him. And being in agony, He prayed more earnestly. Then His sweat became like great drops of blood falling on the ground. (verse 44) This was our Savior, our Redeemer, our King…in agony. What did He do? The more agony He felt, the harder He prayed. He poured out His requests to the Father, but inevitably trusted the Father for what was best. Faith. Trust. Abide. Humble to the Point of Laying Down His Very Life. He accomplished the task, and all the while, He kept His eyes on the prize…the “joy that was set before Him”.

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Resources If you have just heard the news, and you are facing a difficult pregnancy diagnosis, or if you are waiting on the journey, Sufficient Grace Ministries has resources to support you as you walk this path:

Support for Families – Sufficient Grace Ministries

SGM Perinatal Hospice and Bereavement Services – Sufficient Grace Ministries

Books for those waiting with a difficult diagnosis – Sufficient Grace – Standing on the Sacred Ground Where Heaven Meets Earth by Kelly Gerken, I Will Carry You by Angie Smith, Waiting With Gabriel– Amy Kuebelbeck, Empty Arms – Sherokee Isle (secular book, but good practical answers for preparing) In Faithfulness, He Afflicted Me – Lynette Kraft

Please take the time to check out these resources. I know it can be hard and sometimes we think in our pain that we may not want these things. But, truly it is a time that we cannot get back. There are so many things that I regret not doing and photographs especially that I wish that I had. We would be glad to set up a perinatal hospice consultation to help you with a birth plan or send you a Dreams of You Comfort Package and other materials you may need to help prepare for meeting your baby, so please just email us if you have a need: sufficientgraceministries@gmail.com.

Text originally posted on June 25, 2009

Walking With You – The First Steps

February 3, 2023 by Kelly Gerken

Originally posted June 15, 2009:

For this first Walking With You, I thought we would begin at the beginning. If you are joining us as a bereaved mother, then it is certain that there was a day, a moment when your world changed. There was a loss of innocence that day – the innocence we have before we know that the unthinkable can actually happen. A complete change in perspective.

It may have taken place as you laid on the examining table and heard the words, “there is no heartbeat.” Or maybe you have heard the words “incompatible with life.” Perhaps it happened in a blink of an eye when you were expecting to meet your baby and had to say good-bye before you even said hello. However the news was presented, that moment has been woven into the tapestry of your life, etched in your mind and your heart. The news that something is wrong with your baby or that your baby has died is life-changing. There are a myriad of emotions and reactions.

Today, I’m going to share some pieces of my own journey…my memories from the days that changed my life. The moments when I heard those words, moments that have shaped who I am today, and who we are as a family. Moments that have brought me here to walk this path with you. As moms who have walked this path, we share those moments, and I hope you are willing to share them with us as we walk this path.

The stories we have are the stories God has given us to tell, in order that we may comfort and encourage one another. For now, I will just focus on hearing that bad news and our initial reactions. As we continue, we will cover other pieces of the journey. This week…we remember our first steps.

Sharing the Journey

We were twenty-one years old and expecting twins. I was about mid-way through the pregnancy – maybe a little further. I was admitted to the hospital for pre-term labor and endured the lovely effects of magnesium sulfate for about a week. The time came for our scheduled ultrasound. The nurses wheeled me down the hallway and into a yellow room. As I lay on the table, I could sense a change in demeanor from the ultrasound technician. Her face paled and grew stony. She would not look me in the eye as I started to question her. I could tell something was terribly wrong.

The events that followed are blurry to me. I see them in flashes only…can hear the words in short bursts.

“Too much amniotic fluid.”

“One baby is bigger than the other.”

“A possible problem with the heart.”

The room is spinning. I feel like I’m choking, fighting for air. I can see the concern on their faces, hear the somber tone in their voices. They are sending me to a high-risk specialist in the morning. I don’t sleep all night. I pray as I’ve prayed for weeks for the health of my babies. The next morning, in one fell swoop we find out that we are expecting identical twin daughters instead of just twin babies and that our sweet girls had a condition known as twin-to-twin-transfusion syndrome.

The journey continued…but that is how it began.

Less than two years later, midway through my third pregnancy, I heard the words on the telephone.

“There were some concerns on the ultrasound.”

“Not enough amniotic fluid.”

“We will be sending you to a maternal-fetal medicine specialist.”

“We are so sorry.”

I went to the appointment. As I laid on another examining table, I heard the words “absence of kidneys”, “Potter’s Syndrome”, and “incompatible with life .” Never had the darkness seemed so dark and mocking than on that day. As my husband and I processed the words, the life seeped out of us. I stood in the hallway frozen and unable to move forward, unable to take one step into the life that held the hopelessness of the words we had just heard. The tears streamed down my face in unison with the raindrops dripping down the window.

One word sums up what I felt in that moment. One lonely, dark word. Forsaken. In that heartbreaking moment, I felt forsaken. I felt mocked, destroyed, and without hope. All the way home a voice in my head mocked me, asking “Where is Your God Now?” I didn’t have an answer in that moment. I felt defeated. But, that night, as the relentless mocking continued, I reached in my helplessness for my bible. I opened it and let my tears drip on the words – the words that would be my soothing balm, my weapon against the mocking attacks, the truth that would squelch every lie that threatened my hope.

As the storm raged on with all of its fury, I collapsed into His arms, wet from the rain…tired…bedraggled…barely even able to reach up and take His hand. It was okay…my weakness, my inability to put one foot in front of the other. The Lifter of my head was there. He met me there. He met me there as I read the familiar words that quieted that mocking voice.

For He Himself has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you. ~ Hebrews 13:5 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As it is written, For your sake we are killed all day long; We are accounted as sheep for the slaughter. Yet in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which in in Christ Jesus our Lord. ~ Romans 8:35-39

He will never leave me…even if I feel deserted, He is there. In the thick fog of the unknown, in the darkness of the greatest sorrow, in the depth of the lowest pit, He will never leave me. He is there. And I do not walk alone. How do I know? Because I walked there. And, He walked with me. And His love – nothing can separate us from it. No trial. No sorrow. No loss. No imperfect faith. No inability to measure up. Nothing… can separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Nothing. Whether you can feel it or not, His love is so powerful – His relentless amazing love for you and for me. And, if you cannot feel it right now…just hold on. You will again, one day. You will. He won’t stop until you know how dearly loved you are.

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Prayer Request: Please pray for me as I seek to reach out through this ministry…that the Lord would be leading and guiding and that we would follow His plan. Please pray that we would be able to reach out in comfort and love to those who are grieving. And as we do, I ask for prayer for balance in my life…that I would not do things in the wrong order of priorities, but keep the right order: God, family, ministry, work. And for strength. Thank you so much…and I hope you will share your current prayer needs with us as well! ————————————————————————————-

Whether you are walking this path now, facing the loss of your child, a newly bereaved mother, or whether it has been many years since your loss…we hope you will join us, so that we may take this walk together. The subject this week is sharing the initial news and how you were affected by that moment – the beginning of your journey. Then, if you have some resources to share that helped you with that part of your journey or some wisdom, please share. If you are in that place now and have a need or question, you can share that as well, and maybe we can help fill that need. Also, please close with a prayer request if you wish…we would love to be able to pray for you where you are right now on this journey. You can also email me directly at: sufficientgraceministries@gmail.com. Or, you can just read along and glean comfort, grace, and wisdom for your journey. In whatever way you choose, I hope you will join us and as always…thank you for the privilege of allowing us to walk with you.

Join us here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/WWYBereavementSupport/

Walking With You – The Beginning: In the Storm

February 3, 2023 by Kelly Gerken

Originally posted on June 12, 2009…

Tonight my friend, Dawn Marshall from Marshall Photography met with my other friend, Toni (and me) to do a photo shoot for our Walking With You Pregnancy, Infant, and Child Loss Support Group blog button. It had been a gray drizzly day, raining lightly off and on. When the time came for our little shoot, it started to pour buckets of rain.

Of course it did. At first I thought, what is going on? What a disappointment that the rain would increase in strength as we met to take pictures. I heard thunder rumbling as we huddled under our umbrellas (which incidentally each had their own unique imperfections: mine had pokey things sticking out, Dawn’s had a big hole in it, and Toni’s was lopsided. And, yes, I’m sure there are metaphors in that observation.), while I apologized profusely. The children of these two sweet mamas huddled together in their vehicles as the ran splattered down the sides and into the waiting mud puddles.

The rain poured. The thunder rumbled. And we walked in our cute shoes through the mud puddles into a dark alley that said Do Not Enter, while we huddled and shivered under our umbrella, gingerly navigating our steps to avoid more serious potholes. And, it struck me. The beauty of it. The realization that our God was still in control even as the rain poured. It was no accident that the skies darkened and the rains came down. The mud puddles, the foreboding alley that Dawn had suggested as our location. No accident. My original idea was two friends walking down a lovely tree and flower-laden path. How inappropriate that would have been. How unlike the message that we really meant to send. How not representative of walking together through the stormy paths…through the dark sorrow of grief. Through the valleys. The point of what God has laid on our hearts is that we are willing to walk with you through those dark painful places…and not so much that we are willing as that our God is willing. He is willing to walk with us…and places that desire in our hearts to do the same.

And that walk, it’s no flower-laden path. It is a dark alley with old jagged concrete, filled with mud puddles and Do Not Enter Signs. Dark and foreboding…if we look with our human eyes. That walk is not for the faint of heart. It is the nitty gritty stuff of life and death, loss and hope, pain and healing, sorrow and joy. It is a bitter cup that one day becomes a soothing sweetness to your soul, but for a time breaks you into pieces. And, on that walk, it’s unpredictable. The rain pours. The tears flow. The mud rises. That’s what we see, at least.

Internally, the Lord is working. In the place we cannot see with our eyes, the heart is being shaped and mended, formed into a more beautiful instrument of love and grace than it was before we took that walk. Inside, our soul is being healed and filled up, even as the rains fall…even as we feel poured out and empty. When all we see are ashes, He sees the beauty that will come from them. When we behold the darkness before us, surrounding us, smothering us…He sees the light that He will shine in those dark places.

There are moments on that walk when we feel we cannot go on. Moments when a friend comes alongside us to point us again to the One who sustains us. A friend to lift us in prayer. A friend to allow us to lean on her as she leans on Him. A friend, who is not afraid to walk through the valley in the rain, with a storm mounting. She is not afraid, because the Lord is her strength and her shield. She is not afraid because she doesn’t walk alone.

And because He has walked with her through the valleys and the storms, He has sent her to walk with you. And He will carry you both through the rain, through the storm, through the unknown dark alleys to secure, dry ground.

Whether you are a newly bereaved mother or a seasoned mom who has watched the Lord make beauty from ashes in her life. Whether you need someone to lean on or you are the shoulder that can bear the burden, we hope you will walk with us as we are walking with Him. We hope you will join us with our broken umbrellas, with all our little quirks and imperfections in our various stages on this walk, as His grace washes over us in the pouring rain.

Find us here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/WWYBereavementSupport/

Beauty from Ashes: The Story of Faith, Grace, and Thomas and the Birth of Sufficient Grace Ministries

January 5, 2021 by Kelly Gerken

We’ll start at the beginning with Faith and Grace….

Tim and I were married in March of 1994. We had a son, Timothy. Two years into our marriage, I was expecting again…and there were many surprises. First of all, everything was different with this pregnancy…there was more fatigue, more nausea, more belly, and more “stretching pains.” At our first ultrasound appointment around 6-8 weeks, the doctor confirmed, after a series of disconcerting “Hmmmms…” that we were expecting TWINS. I had a slight panic attack on the table, immediately overwhelmed with all the additional concerns and possible complications that could come with a twin pregnancy. Tim’s twenty-year-old face was covered in shock, bewilderment, and stunned excitement. I staggered my way off the examining table, and once safely behind the curtain, I began to change out of the napkin gown we ladies wear at the OB, and the fears started to emerge in the form of tears, which gave way to sobs.

Tim asked if I was okay, and I told him in my twenty-year-old voice that I was afraid. We talked, and soon the excitement overrode the doubt and fear. When I shared the news with my mother, she picked me up (with her little 100 pound self) and spun me around in her driveway. We had plans to make…plans that involved two of everything…how fun!

Fun soon gave way to constant vomiting which led to many hospital visits, medication and IV therapy. My stomach continued to grow at an alarming rate…which we thought was just a normal part of being pregnant with twins. I had barely kept any food down…so it certainly wasn’t fat! I needed help with the housework…and Timothy spent a lot of time with both grandmothers.

My friend Ginny and I were at Wal-Mart with our toddlers when I started to feel contractions…after a stop at Wendy’s, we concluded that I needed to go to the OB as the contractions and back pain continued. They hooked me up to the monitors and said that I was contracting regularly. I was about 20-22 weeks gestation…my uterus was measuring about 40 cm ( the size of a full-term pregnant uterus).

The doctors instructed me to go straight to the hospital because I was in labor. I stopped in the hallway, leaning against the wall…crying, praying, trying to catch my breath. I didn’t want to go any further…I didn’t want to face what was to come, but Ginny said something to convince me to take the next step, and the next until I found myself in a hospital bed, which would become my home for more than a week. They administered magnesium sulfate to stop the labor…it was a miserable poison which intensified my wretched vomiting and soon I needed medicine, IVs, and other pleasantries. I laid there, listening to each laboring mom and praying for each little baby. I would cry with relief at the sound of each new baby cry…wondering in my heart if my babies were born right now, if they would even be able to cry. The days passed in a blur as I continued to lose everything that entered my stomach until my throat was raw and torn. But, finally…after about a week, the contractions stopped and I emerged from the fog of the medicine.

It was time for my ultrasound. I’ll never forget the yellow walls of the room…chatting light-heartedly with the nurses as they wheeled me down the hall…I’ll never forget the smothering doom as the countenance of the technician’s face darkened when she saw my babies and she turned the screen away. She wouldn’t say anything, but I knew…something was wrong.

We were sent to a high-risk specialist (perinatalogist) the next morning. My day began with losing the contents of my stomach, as usual. This morning it happened to be a red popsicle. Tim arrived to help me put on my shoes, since the swelling and the size of my giant abdomen prevented me from finding my own feet. He drove me to St. Vincent Hospital.
The specialist performed an ultrasound, and within minutes of our arrival, we knew that we were having identical twin girls and we had a name for the evil thing that threatened our precious children: twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome. That moment held both joy and sorrow as we went from expecting twin “babies” to expecting twin “daughters”. Immediately, whether in danger or not, we had dreams for them. We now had a vision of who they would be. We named our daughters Faith Elizabeth and Grace Katherine. We chose those names based on the scripture For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith- and this is not from yourselves, it is a gift of God… – Ephesians 2:8

The condition known as twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome is, in simple terms a situation where one baby gets too much nourishment, fluid, and blood flow and the other baby does not get enough. To help remedy the situation, the doctors performed several amniocentesis procedures to remove excess fluid from the sac that carried the babies. I remained in the hospital for several more days. People prayed fervently for me and our babies as we all three were in a fight for our lives. The constant vomiting had done great damage to my stomach and esophagus. I had a hyetal hernia that was irritated by the size of my girth, my heart was palpitating, my lungs struggled to get in enough air as I continued to grow and my liver wasn’t working properly. And we prayed for the lives of Faith and Grace, desperate to believe that our babies would be among the 20 percent who live through this condition unscathed.

During the many ultrasounds performed, we would watch as Faith sucked her thumb and Grace swam wildly about. I watched and learned about them as they were nestled safely in my womb, yet to meet the world. And I knew them because they were my own.

At twenty-six weeks, an ultrasound showed that the hearts of Faith and Grace, who had struggled so to survive, were no longer beating. The pain and shock of that loss, the word stillborn, the labor and the funeral plans were all a blur, as if happening to someone else.

The voice that emerged from me was an unrecognizable, agonized cry from the deepest part of my heart. This couldn’t be. Both of them were gone before I met them. There would be no bedroom with a canopy crib and pink lace everywhere. No daughters for my husband to dote over and protect. No sisters for our two-year-old son. No little girl giggles and Easter bonnets. This couldn’t be…but it was. They were ripped unexpectedly from us. It was as if the world stopped. For me, time stood still. My world, in an instant was a horrible nightmare that I had not even allowed myself to dream, but had come true anyway.

During my labor, I looked out the window and watched giant snowflakes falling silently, so perfect and beautiful, just like I imagined our daughters would be. When they were born, we held them and wept, and I sang Amazing Grace. Although they were bruised and broken, all I could see was their indescribable beauty. I had prayed that God would save them and I realized that He had saved them, just not the way I had in mind. They were in heaven, perfect and without suffering, complete and safe. The grief that followed was a relentless roller coaster. My physical and emotional health were in desperate need of healing. I questioned the strength of my faith. I didn’t yet realize that God’s strength is made perfect in my weakness.

The Story of Our Thomas

A year later, we conceived our fourth child. We were filled with apprehension and hope. An ultrasound in mid-pregnancy indicated an inadequate amount of amniotic fluid. I was sent to a specialist who confirmed through a variety of tests that our baby probably had a fatal condition known as Potter’s Syndrome, where babies have a lack of amniotic fluid due to the absence of kidneys. The low amounts of amniotic fluid leave the baby’s lungs unable to properly develop, and they cannot function. There is no chance of survival.

We felt forsaken. The darkness of that rainy day was consuming and hideous. I remember standing by the window in the hospital hallway, looking out into the pouring rain. I watched the raindrops trickling down the window in unison with the tears trickling down my cheeks. I didn’t want to take another step. Maybe, I thought, if I stayed right here in this spot, I wouldn’t have to face the ugly truth of what was to come. Maybe I could just make time stand still. Only then that would mean never moving on past this day. Sometimes the only way out is through a situation. All the way home, a terrible voice echoed in my head as I struggled to resist feeling forsaken, asking, “Where is your God now?”

In the middle of the night, I cried out and poured over scripture, searching for the answer to that awful question. I clung to the promises of God that He will never leave us nor forsake us.

Doctors use the words “incompatible with life” to describe a fatal diagnosis. We were given a choice to induce labor early, terminating the pregnancy or to continue, knowing what outcome we would face, barring a miracle.

After a Holy Week filled with tears and searching scripture, we chose to continue the pregnancy despite the bleak diagnosis. The next four months tested our faith constantly. We prayed fervently for a miracle, hoping and wishing, fearing that staying pregnant could be causing physical harm and deformities to our baby because of lack of amniotic fluid. It was a great strain on our family. I spent time planning his funeral and yet, still somehow hoping that God would give us a miracle and save him. I lived from ultrasound to ultrasound, so that I could catch a glimpse of this quiet little child growing within me, knowing that this was my only time to mother him. I wanted to cherish every gift, every moment.

We chose the name Thomas for our son because through this journey, we learned about believing God without seeing. (John 20:24-29) We learned that being faithful doesn’t mean not feeling doubt or fear. Faith is believing God’s promises, clinging to His truth anyway, when you’re most afraid and filled with doubt and questions…still believing when the answer is not what you want to hear or when there seems to be no answer at all.

When the moment came for me to deliver Thomas, it was clear that God’s grace truly was sufficient for us. While a team of experts worked to save Thomas, I prayed and cried out to the Lord. I was immediately filled with that peace that surpasses all human understanding. I could feel the presence of the Lord, so close, as if I could reach out and touch Him. Although God did not work the kind of miracle that I had asked for, there were miracles that day. Thomas was beautiful! He was with us for six hours. We were able to hold him and pray over him. There were no scars on him and his limbs were intact. There was no evidence that remaining pregnant without amniotic fluid had harmed him in any way.

During the last moments of Thomas’ life, I rocked him and began singing to him. As he left this earth, it occurred to me that I had been given a great privilege. I had been chosen to sing to this beautiful baby as he went straight from my arms to the arms of Jesus. I was bathed in peace and an indescribable joy. It was worth a lifetime of being Thomas’ mother to be the one who held him and sang to him on his way to heaven. I have never felt closer to Jesus than in that moment. I knew that He existed in a way that I never had known before. His promises are real, and He will not leave us or forsake us.

I could never have envisioned in my limited human mind that He would have such an experience waiting for me at the end of this journey. I was truly blessed among women that day, blessed among Mothers.
It has been several years since that day (ten to be exact!), and our journey of healing has continued. We were tossed about in the sea of grief for a time. We struggled through our questions, our pain, our tears, our anger, and our bitterness. We believed that someday, somehow, God could and would restore our brokenness and turn our tears to joy. And He did.

In the beginning, I felt as if I were drowning. The sea of grief was relentless. Soon, I learned to tread water, though, and the sea became less rocky as I stopped resisting the waves. One day, I realized that I had learned to swim in this sea. The waves of grief still rushed in at times, but I was learning to be a stronger swimmer.

The old saying “Time heals all wounds” has some truth to it, but I would like to elaborate on that concept. Yes, in time, wounds do heal; however I believe that what’s really happening in that time is that God is working in us to heal and restore us. You may have heard the analogy that although we cannot see the wind, we can see the evidence that the wind exists as it blows the leaves on the trees. We can feel the wind on our face and hear the sound of it blowing past. I think God works in those invisible ways. We cannot see Him, but we see evidence of His work in our lives. We feel the comfort of His presence.

My friend Dinah gives a great analogy of how God mysteriously works. She likens it to the changing of the seasons. In the autumn the leaves change colors. Often though it is so gradual, so subtle that we don’t realize it fully until one day the trees are orange, yellow, red and brown instead of green. In the same way as winter approaches, the leaves fall from the trees. One day, we notice that the leaves are gone. We know they must have been falling for some time, but it was so subtle and gradual that we hardly noticed until one day when they were all gone and the land was stark and bare. When spring comes, everything brings forth new life. What once was dead is alive again. And one day it happens. You wake up and the leaves have returned once more- green and shiny and new. You can’t point to a time when they began to bloom, exactly. You may have seen a bud or two. But it seems that it is sudden. Suddenly, the leaves have returned.

In reality it was happening all the time, subtle, gradual, unseen, changing and restoring life. That is the best illustration I have heard of the way the Holy Spirit works in us to heal and restore. How subtly God works in us to change and heal us until one day what once was, is no more. One day, we were no longer struggling. We have overcome what once held us captive, be it bitterness, pain, grief, or sin. God had been healing us all along, working while we struggled.

Where once there was sin, now there is forgiveness. Where sorrow once lived, now joy dwells. Where once there was death, now there is life. Once the trees were barren. Now they spring forth green leaves and beautiful, life-giving fruit. I don’t know exactly when or how He took the tattered ashes of our broken hearts and made them into something beautiful, but one day the pain was gone. (We still have tender moments when our memories take us back, and we may shed some tears. We will never forget!) In reality, though, it wasn’t one day. It had been happening all along. God had been using every tear, every moment of brokenness to make beauty from ashes, to turn our shame into a crown of glory, to heal our pain and restore us- turning even our deepest sorrow into our most exuberant joy.
Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy. – Psalm 126: 2-5
In May 2001, our fifth child was born…our little bundle of energy and joy…James. He is our miracle child, and we thank God for both of our sons that are with us and for our daughters and son that are in Heaven, daily.
We share our story with you because of the scripture in 2 Corinthians 1: 3 & 4 – Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received.

We feel blessed that we have been comforted through our loss by a loving God, and we would like to offer that same comfort to you. That is how our ministry began. My friend,Tracy lost her baby, Kelly on March 12, 2003. While searching for a memory book for her, I discovered that there were no memory books that allowed the mom to adequately honor the life of a precious baby…something lasting and beautiful that said a loved and wanted child was here. That’s how the Dreams of You Memory Book was born. Parts of the above story are written in the Dreams of You Book as well as places for grieving parents to journal there own journey of loss, hope and healing, record the dreams they had for baby, footprints, handprints, other memories and details of babies life, write letters to baby…in addition, the book is filled with inspirational poems and scripture reminding us of the hope of heaven.

We began Sufficient Grace Ministries – the legacy of Faith, Grace, Thomas and Tracy’s little Kelly – in 2004. Today, thousands of lives have been touched because of the brief little lives of our little ones. They were here…they mattered…and God used them to fulfill a beautiful purpose…to offer comfort and hope to those whose hearts are broken. For more information about the products and services offered, to receive one-on-one support, to order materials, or to express a prayer need, please visit our website: sufficientgraceministries.org or email me (Kelly) at sufficientgraceministries@gmail.com . We are a 501 (c ) 3 non-profit organization and we do not ask bereaved parents to pay for our materials. The costs for materials is covered from supporting members, individuals, participating hospitals, churches, and other organizations.

You can read more about the faith journey of the Gerken’s and their story in Kelly’s book, Sufficient Grace.

Read more about SGM and how we’ve grown here.

Remembering:
Faith Elizabeth Gerken — November 3, 1996
Grace Katherine Gerken — November 3, 1996
Thomas Patrick Gerken — July 14, 1998
Kelly Michelle Sponsler — March 12, 2003
For all the precious children whose footprints are forever ingrained in our hearts – We still dream our dreams of you… until we meet again.

…See I will not forget you. I have carved you in the palm of my hand. – Isaiah 49:15b & 16

SGM Devotional and Prayer For Grieving Hearts

July 9, 2019 by Kelly Gerken

You can fine samples of bible verses for your devotional at the following links:

https://www.kathleenfucciministries.org/blog/50-bible-verses-for-a-grieving-heart
https://momsinprayer.org/resources/prayer-tools/
https://momsinprayer.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/06/pdfAttributesOfGod2019.pdf