Tully Jesse Tuttle- our firstborn.

Tully– peaceful; Jesse– gift from God, back to God. Jehovah is real.

This is the name of our firstborn. Hunter and I met him far earlier than we anticipated. In fact, we hadn’t actually yet made our big announcement to the world. We were well underway with brainstorming how we wanted to share the news with everyone that we were expecting a baby- due July 23rd! But as I mentioned above, we met him far sooner than July 23rd. February 6th I met my baby, face to face…as I held him with a tenderness and deep fondness in my heart. I had the privilege of carrying his little baby body for 16 weeks and 1 day. Lord knows- this was far shorter than I had ever hoped, and yet far longer than I could’ve asked for- really. Tully has made me a Mom; Hunter a Dad… nothing will ever take that away.

(And this is where I am falling short of words, yet the Lord knows how deeply my mind and heart are swirling right now with so much to say/share!)

To say I have been caught off guard by the intense impact my son has had on me is an understatement. From the doctor’s responses once they told me he no longer had a heartbeat that I would ‘pass some fleshly matter’  to people’s emotionally disconnected and distant reactions to hearing I had a miscarriage, I wasn’t quite sure what I’d be getting myself into with the labor and delivery process of this baby. In one major regard, I was simplifying this process of my body getting rid of the fetus I had been carrying. “No big deal….”, “this happens all of the time…”, “there will probably not be any viable tissue…” were all confrontational messages to my heart. There was an established love for this being growing in my womb that I didn’t know was there until I saw him. True confrontation happened then, in my bathtub, as I laid eyes and hands on my baby. He was real. He was a tiny human made in the image of God with a soul who once had a heartbeat… and had his hands and feet, his tongue, a jaw that moved… I cried and held him in utter wonder and amazement.

The word “miscarriage” has a lot of baggage and common misunderstanding…really there seems to be a level of emotional disconnection to the weight of this type of experience for those walking down this path. Because Tully didnt grow to 20 weeks, I had a miscarriage. Once 20 weeks or further along, the delivery of a baby no long living is called a ‘stillborn’. Yet- for me…although technically ‘just’ a miscarriage, I felt compelled from the very beginning to embrace the importance of my birthing story. I delivered my little baby boy…

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The words shared above were written on February 23rd of this year. It is now July 19th as I sit to ‘complete’ this blog so I can share it on July 23rd. The silence within this blog entry for the past five months is not indicative of any sort of silence in my heart… in my mind… in my conversations with people with whom I have had the opportunity to share life with during these trying days. In fact, it’s been quite the opposite of silent. Rereading what I have previously typed up, my heart is once again filleted open. I believe it is necessary to open this wound that has attempted to scab over out of some sort of attempt to heal, yet desperately needs to be aired out. My prayer is that this blog entry serves more like the sutures my bleeding heart has been waiting for in order to create a longer-lasting, healthy healing process by sharing our story with you. The wound goes deep, but the heart my Creator has softened is resilient and healing is happening.

July 23rd has been a looming date for me these last five month. It once held such a sweetness to the sound of it. Unexpectedly, it turned into a date filled with a growing concern of how it’d pain me. And here I am. As mentioned above, that was the expected date of delivery for our baby. We were ‘supposed’ to be meeting our baby on July 23rd. This was when we were ‘supposed’ to hear those words, “Congratulations! It’s a …… _____!” as we had decided to wait to find out the gender of our baby until the delivery. We were ‘supposed’ to have our home already baby-ready and a nursery so quaintly decorated, gender neutral and probably with some sort of adorable outdoorsy theme. These are simply a few of the ‘supposed to’ expectations and anticipations that I have had to wrestle with these over the last several months.

Instead, the reality of it all is for this situation: February 6th we met our baby… BOY. No beating heart or movement from his tiny body, but WHEW. He moved my heart and caused it to flutter in a way I have never before experienced. He was beautiful…a true gift. His name holding a richness of meaning that says it all. Our guest room is still in its blah state. No cute baby decorations- not yet, at least. Nothing much has actually happened with it. I haven’t had the energy (really, the motivation) to do anything with it. At times I have struggled to openly grieve. Grief is confrontational! This experience has caused my heart to ache in a new way. It has also dug up heartache concerning my Mom’s death. In addition and as a confession, I have emotionally struggled in knowing how to graciously respond to friends who have held little or no space for Tully and my grieving heart- those who have shown little interest or empathy during this life-rocking experience. Now that I have had my own induction into this ‘club’ I have been given an eye-opening gut check that before February 6th I, too, had difficulty responding  with empathy to other folks walking through this type of loss and grief. And this in and of itself has grieved my heart in its own manner. So much to learn.

In the same breath, I have been blown away by some folks who have shown up- physically, emotionally, spiritually- to walk with me and help carry this weight. I feel forever indebted to those kind, caring, selfless souls whom have made meals, prayed, called or visited, given me thoughtful gifts of remembrance, asked questions, shared their hearts, handed me a tissue as they opened safe spaces for me to cry. It has been a legitimate roller coaster.

Looking through my journal, desiring to find something I can share with you as reassurance I have not lost hope and that there has, in fact, been a lavishing of God’s grace during this season, I figured I could share this:

February 13, 2018

I have my Bible on my lap- not sure where to go. I flipped to a ‘random’ place in Psalms and landed on Psalm 34. Very fitting. I am going to chew on this for a moment… Lord, please speak to me as I read and reflect… Spirit, fill me with Yourself!

When the righteous cry for help, the LORD hears and delivers them out of their troubles. The LORD is near the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit. Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the LORD delivers him out of them all. 

–Psalm 34: 17-19

My story… Tully’s story… doesn’t end here. The Lord does continue to work and deliver in the midst of affliction. May I fear the Lord alone…may I be led by love and affection for the Lord, and also for others… a sower of peace, not evil or deceit…

Amen!

And then this journal entry:

April 12, 2018

Sitting in the sunshine reading “Here and Now” by Henri Nouwen.

[Jesus reveals to us God’s love so that His joy may become ours and that our joy may become complete.] – references Scripture out of John 15:10-11.

Nouwen goes on to explain how joy is the experience of knowing that you are unconditionally loved and that nothing can take that love away. He also talks about joy and sorrow existing together. I agree…

The situation surrounding my Mom’s death and the ways thing unfolded for me AND the situation concerning my miscarriage of Tully… I do agree. Sorrow- deep sorrow- and deepest joy and ability to see God’s deep love for me in the many graces I have experienced.

There are always sorrowful and joyful sides to the reality we live… [there’s] a choice to live in the moment as a cause for resentment or as a cause for joy. – Nouwen

Choice- resentment or joy… I like how it’s set up as one or the other. I have grown annoyed at “choose joy” as a response to tough situations, but only because it felt like a quick answer/cheesy Christian platitude. But seeing how I do have a choice to see it as either a cause of joy OR of resentment helps me to actually choose.

I long to see Tully again. He remains close to my heart- forever will. I believe the purposeful and meaningful mingling of our lives continues to minister to me. I am learning to embrace it all as a treasure- revealing to me a richness to life I hadn’t acknowledged beforehand.

And so it was terribly important for me to introduce you to our firstborn- to honor his life and to honor our experience in some capacity. After praying about it, it seemed clear to me the best time was to do so on July 23rd. Fitting. So thank you for your time in reading this.

This is his 12 week ultrasound photo. Although difficult to make sense of it just by looking at, his back is turned and his spinal cord is visible toward the bottom of the image. I remember when the doctor showed that to me my heart swelled in total awe. I’ll forever cherish this image of our son. Additionally, I sincerely appreciate the beautiful artwork and kindness of Katie Martin.

This piece is quite special to me!

If you’re given the opportunity to love on a family who finds themselves receiving such news, please don’t hesitate to show up to feed them, listen, serve them in some capacity. Acknowledge their experience as folks who grieve the loss of a family member, even if you don’t quite ‘get it’. Express condolences. Invite conversation and sit in the awkwardness…in the discomfort. Help carry the burden in those ways because isolation, sadness, confusion are a couple of emotions I have experienced. I didn’t want to experience these on an island all by myself, but needed the tribe of people who decided to love on us- new and old friends (mostly new, surprisingly!). They proved to stand in as conduits of God’s grace through this difficult time, and continue to do so. What a display of God’s love to me. You can be that for someone. I can be that for others. Let’s be love to one another.

Lastly-

Tully, dear one… you are loved.

I thank God for you. You have impacted me in ways that have drawn me closer to the Lord, to your dad, to others. I cannot ever repay you for that… but then again, that is why you have been such a gift to me. Thank you! I can confidently say you have prepared the way for any other children we may have… paving a way in my heart to love with a wider, more open heart. Your life and the ripple effect that has come from it… Grace upon grace- I believe for generations to come. 

Contrary to most everyone else’s opposition to me ever naming a child of mine ‘Tully’, especially after I married your dad and became a Tuttle, I couldn’t be more honored to have you bear that name. The Lord confirmed that was to undoubtedly be your name. It thrills me. Tully Jesse Tuttle- what a beautiful name with deep meaning. 

I feel blessed, even as I weep. Sorrow and joy co-mingled. I don’t quite understand it, but who said I ever will or that I need to?  

Until we meet again…

Your Momma