A New Baby Boy and A Video for Branch

It. Has. Been. So. Long.

Did you think I forgot I had a blog?! I didn’t. It was just super hot and I was super pregnant, and then {as you will already know if we are friends on Facebook or Instagram} I went into the eternal labor, and then I had a baby, and now I’m figuring out what life is like with a tiny human I am solely responsible for. {hint: it’s pretty fun.}

BEFORE I went into labor, I had wanted to share a video with you all. We were privileged to share some of Branch’s story, as well as some of our own story, with our church family several weeks ago. The video team came to our house on a super hot day (as can be seen by our glistening faces) with loads of equipment and asked all sorts of deep questions. We talked for HOURS, and our friend Brad edited it all down to these few awesome minutes. We are really proud of the final product and so honored at all of the kind words people have said, and the ways Branch continues to inspire and encourage others.

The video was used as part of what our church called the Onward Campaign, as we are starting a new campus in Encinitas (really close to where we currently live!}. If you haven’t already, please watch it!

The Murdock’s Story – Branch Lionheart from FloodSanDiego on Vimeo.

A couple of weeks after the above video was shown at church, WE HAD A BABY!

He is perfect! I seriously can’t even believe he is here — and we are now toting all sorts of baby things with us wherever we go. His name is River Righteousness Murdock, an intense name I know… did you expect anything less from the couple who chose Branch Lionheart for their firstborn son’s name?

I’ll blog about how we came up with his name sometime soon, but for now I wanted to share with anyone who wasn’t already aware – that yes, baby boy #2 came and is alive and healthy!

RIVER!

Much love to all of you. I’ll try to keep it to less than 3 months between posts next time. 🙂

~Kristin

Why I Don’t Want to Tell the Internet I’m Pregnant

Since the title basically gave it away, it will come as no surprise to you when I say : I’m pregnant!

I’m a little over halfway there, five and a half months to be exact.

The baby is really healthy so far.

I am having a hard time sleeping (someone is practicing their jabs, kicks, and somersaults), and experiencing all sorts of those normal, but still brutal, pregnancy pains.

It’s a boy!

We are, truly, thrilled. {here I am this morning. bump can not be hidden any longer!}

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Now, onto why I was resisting telling you, even though though I knew you would all be so excited to know.

Here’s the thing: words truly can not describe the gift we have been given.  We have one perfect son that we had to say goodbye to, and now we will, barring some horrible unforeseen circumstance, have another perfect child that we will get to actually raise and watch grow up. But pregnancy, babies, parenting, children… these are very tender spots in our hearts.

We long for Branch to be here, welcoming this new baby with us. With every good thing that happens with this baby, we are reminded of all we lost when Branch died, and how our family will not be whole again until we are in Heaven. We want this child to grow up knowing his brother, and have ideas of how we will do that in our family, but right now — while we wait to meet him – interacting with others who are on the outside can be hard.

When people say “Congratulations!” I feel weird. I know it’s good that they are congratulating me, and I am so grateful they are, but something stirs in my soul and makes me sad, too. You see, people didn’t congratulate me when I was pregnant with Branch. Some of these same people who are congratulating me now actually avoided me while I was carrying Branch and in the months after.  I do not hold this against them, I really don’t, because it makes perfect sense. We each have our own capacities, and many lovely people who love me, just could not carry any of the weight of my grief : and that’s ok. But in my heart, this spot is tender.

It is a reminder that my first baby, who is just as much my son as this baby is, carries much sadness with his story. It is a reminder that some people, even though they love me, can not talk about Branch — even now. It is a reminder that pregnancy is tough for us. I think it’s tough for everyone, or so I hear, but I know it is particularly tough for those who have lost.  It is a reminder of just how long, an unimaginable amount of time if I am being honest, we will have to wait to hold Branch again.

I sent Glenn a text this morning, telling him I was working on a post about being pregnant and why I didn’t want to tell the word-wide-web. I told him I felt like it all sounded kind of negative. I loved his response:

“You lost a baby. That’s just reality. You have to work through the negative thoughts to get to the positives.”

So wise, that Glenn. He’s also very encouraging, and fights for spiritual and emotional health above all else – something many people do not do. Through everything we have been through in our lifetimes, and particularly the past couple of years with losing Branch, I am most grateful for God’s mercy and love that has been expressed so clearly and personally to each of us.  I am second-most grateful for Glenn. I could write a whole book on how great he is. Maybe someday I will. Though I am not sure if many people are interested in reading how great someone else’s husband is. I guess I’ll find out.

I feel like this post is coming to a close. I have said enough for one day.  Opened the box, bared some more of my soul, which I think is what you all have come to expect here. After getting this part out, maybe I will start blogging all pregnancy related thoughts. Buckle up, internet, we’re in for quite a ride. My current obsession is baby boy swim trunks. Could those things be any cuter?!?!

Much love to each and every one of you. The ones I know and the ones I don’t. The ones who have been nudging me to post and the ones who have told me to hold it sacredly. And a special dose of love to those of you who are held in a special part of my heart – those who are in the middle of a story of child loss, those who have buried their children, and those who are pregnant with healthy babies after hoping for one for so long. I see you. God sees you. We are so, so loved.

Psalm 86:15 “But You. LORD, are a compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness.”

May we bask in His compassion and grace today.

~Kristin and BSquared

On Suffering

 

There has been a lot on my facebook feed in the past few months about suffering, about death with dignity, about loss, about illness, about all sorts of things that are big and scary. This week in particular there have been stories about Kara Tippetts. Have you read anything by or about her? It’s incredible.  Her story touches me in an extra tender zone this week, as our dear friends are fighting a very similar battle with terminal cancer.

Ann Voskamp wrote a blog post in light of Kara’s passing that is profoundly good. Truly. It’s like God’s Spirit is speaking through every word.  She talks about suffering, about the art of dying well, and, ultimately — about how walking through suffering and death is our opportunity to live well.

I love this.

It challenges and encourages every part of my soul. That suffering is, at the core, good. That God graciously allows us to live and die well, should we so choose. That eternity will be here in the blink of an eye, though it will seem long and drawn out for those waiting on Earth. Powerful, painful, encouraging, tender.  Please read it.

May I willingly step into suffering deeper today, knowing God is there, and may He give me glimmers of what living well here on Earth looks like.

Much love,

Kristin

 

Job 36:15 “But those who suffer He delivers in their suffering; He speaks to them in their affliction.”

*side note from me — notice it does not say He delivers FROM their suffering…  His goodness happens IN the suffering. so powerful and convicting!*

Dreams for 2015

The first week of January, as we were still celebrating the Twelve Days of Christmas, I created a little space for myself to do something I hadn’t done in a year :: I gave myself space to dream.

At the beginning of last year, 2014,  I remember feeling like hope, and any chance of happiness, died when Branch died. I felt as if all life were lost, and not just for a season, but forever. It seemed the only form of mercy would be God returning and ending my pain. For a full twelve months, maybe more, dreaming became something sweet, innocent, well-meaning friends did, or suggested I do. Dreams, for me, were impossible. In my inmost being, sometimes they still are.

At the beginning of this year, 2015, I found myself ready, waiting, wanting to dream again, even if just a little.  And so, on January 4th, I sat on the leather chair in our living room, I used my colorful pens, I let the dreams flow — big and small. Here is what I came up with.

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Have a healthy baby. Write on my blog every week. Re-design my blog. Run 3 miles in 30 minutes. Travel to Europe. Eat at The French Laundry.

Dreams are different than goals. Dreams don’t need check-lists or priorities. Dreams don’t even need to happen. They are simply dreams. A picture of what the future could be, without any hidden agenda or judgement.  Dreams.

May God’s grace be sufficient for you today, whether you are able to dream or if the dreaming will just have to wait. You and I are so very loved.

~Kristin

Romans 8:32  “He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?”

December 14th, 2014

I wrote this last week, on December 14th (hence the title), and read it at an annual event The Elizabeth Hospice puts together called Light Up A Life. We were so honored to have been asked to speak at Light Up A Life, and to share a little bit more about Branch. I could sing The Elizabeth Hospice’s praises for hours on end … truly. I can not imagine better people exist in the world than the people who work with The Elizabeth Hospice. 

I decided to post this piece today, Christmas Eve, because it sums up how we feel this week, too. Christmas is a tender time. All holidays are, really, but Christmas has always been my favorite holiday, which makes it particularly bittersweet now. I have had to work hard at reminding myself of God’s love for me, of how He sees me, that He knows me, and how He welcomes my sorrow with open arms.  

I hope you enjoy this little writing. Merry Christmas, friends. xoxo

 

I feel sad.

I have felt sad every day in 2014.

Every night — every single night — as the lights turn out, I turn to Glenn and tell him how much I miss our baby. Every night — every single night — he squeezes me tight and tells me that he knows.  Because he misses our boy every day, too.

As many of you know, Branch died on December 10th, 2013. Just over a year ago.  Now that his first birthday and the first anniversary of his death are over, part of me feels victorious. We did it.  We are alive. We got out of bed, at least for a few moments, every day for the past 365 days. We still laugh a lot. Even now.

Today, though, most of me feels sad.

2014 has been really hard.

Wouldn’t it be great if I could tell you that now, a year later, things are just hunky-dory and we are totally fine, we don’t have a care in the world, and we never have trouble relating to anyone and yes, even though I buried my son, I am definitely making every meal at home and working out constantly.

The truth is that, a year after death, I find comfort in the Jack in the Box drive-through.  I go on walks, and sometimes I run. I feel lonely all the time. I am just barely beginning to breathe again.

And I guess, in some ways, that is comforting.  Because we ARE doing it. We ARE breathing again. We are taking it slow. We are welcoming the pain, the loneliness, the sorrow, and the joy.

We grieve because we love. And my love for Branch, which is the one thing that is so sacred it is impossible to describe, will never die.

May you feel that kind of love today.

 

One Year

Today would have been Branch’s first birthday.

It IS his first birthday still, but we don’t get to celebrate with him in the flesh. Obviously.

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I have watched a few one year olds grow over this past year. They are all so funny, so spunky, so silly, so full of life. I think a one year old would be pretty fun.

If Branch were still here, I probably would have spent less money on myself, but a lot more money on him. I would be up to my elbows in diapers and drool. I would be thinking it was a real tragedy how little sleep I was getting. I would be wondering if we were out-growing our little home. I would be frustrated that the baby weight hadn’t just “fallen off”. I would watch him grow every day and be fascinated by his little face discovering things for the first time.

When I think about this past year, it is almost a blur. Some of it went by quickly, especially the last few months. Some of it went by painfully slow. It was so painful, actually, that it is almost hard to remember just how bad it was. As we enter into this season and are now only 7 days away from the anniversary of Branch’s death, some of the fog is lifting and we are starting to remember a few details from the early weeks. Many of the details are happy, others are just really sad.

Life and death, so close together.

December 3rd, 2013, the day Branch Lionheart Murdock was born, is the day that made me a Mom. What a wonderful joy it was to meet him face to face. His cheeks were soft, his legs were long, and he snuggled like nobody’s business. I am so grateful for him. Even in the pain. What a treasured life he is.

Happy Birthday, baby Branch. I can’t wait to see you again. I hope me and your Daddy do a good job celebrating and remembering you today. We love you to the moon and back.

My prayer for today is that Branch is honored, that his life is validated, and that Glenn and I can show ourselves kindness and grace as we step out into the world in all of our woundedness. May God’s face shine on us, and on you, this December 3rd.

Revelation 21:3-5

3 And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. 4 ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

5 He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.”

All my love, and a special dose of love to those of you who have buried your babies, too. We see you.

~Kristin

Running Again

I have decided to start running again.

I was a runner for many years. And now I am one again.

I am not a fast runner, though my speed did increase over the years.

I am not a skinny runner, though my body has seen various shapes and weights in my running tenure.

I am not someone who was “born to run” and just loves every second of being out there.

Running is hard work. It’s hard for my mind, for my lungs, for my heart, for my legs.  Sometimes running feels like soul work more than anything else. It’s all on the table when my feet hit the ground, you know what I mean? I am reminded of my reality, of God’s goodness, of all I am carrying in my inmost being, every time I lace up my sneakers.

I wonder if that’s why I took a break for a little while. It was too much to face. Too much to carry. Too much to run with.

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On Saturday morning I went for a run.

I had new shoes, an awesome pair of running tights, and an ocean view.

I ran half a mile, stopped for a minute to catch my breath, and then ran another half mile.

One mile.

During the 2nd half mile my mind was flooded with thoughts of how different running feels. In some ways it is harder to run, but mostly, I was reminded of all my body, my legs, my lungs, and my heart have walked through in recent months.

These are the legs that take me to work, to Whole Foods, to Croutons for soup and salad, every week.  These are the thighs that held extra weight, weight that is still there, to support a growing baby boy. This is the body that is physically holding my grief, my joy, my fear. These are the lungs that laugh and cry, often in the same breath, as I did at church this morning. This is the heart that lays my sorrows and my dreams at God’s feet.

This body has done a lot for me. And now, it is helping me run.

One mile down.

 

~Kristin

 

Five Things : October 28th, 2014

1. We are finalizing Branch’s gravestone this week. It has taken much longer than anticipated. Not in the sense that it’s the end of October and Branch was born almost eleven months ago, but in the sense that we started the process over a month ago now, and the stone still isn’t ordered. We waited to start working on it until around his ten month birthday, and I am really glad we did. Did you know that in Jewish tradition headstones aren’t selected until eleven months after the death? Enough time has passed, but not too much time. I like that.

It is hard to design a headstone for your firstborn son. I would imagine it is hard to design a headstone for anyone. I never really imagined myself having the opportunity. I guess nobody does.

I think Branch’s headstone will be cool. We have put a lot of thought into it — what to say, what not to say, how to place things, etc. And honestly :: who knew there were so many options for granite??!!?

 

2. We spent this past Sunday at Disneyland.

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By now you know that I LOVE Disneyland. I love Walt Disney and all he created — the joy his vision brought and continues to bring to so many. I love the history Disneyland holds — a personal, familial, and fun history. I love how Anaheim is home to the original Disney theme park, and that Anaheim is so close to us here in San Diego. I love the way Disneyland decorates and celebrates so many seasons — Halloweentime being one of them.

Really, truly, Disneyland is my favorite place on earth, and I just loved spending the day there with Glenn on Sunday! Can you imagine?! Glenn AND Disneyland together?!?! My soul bursts with delight!

 

3. Glenn and I are lifting weights. We call it Murdock Pump Club. It’s pretty awesome.

 

4. I am really liking my job. I keep thinking of all the other jobs I interviewed for, or places I thought about working, and I am so grateful that God had the perfect position in mind — all I had to do was wait.  My job is not glamorous or high profile or even in line with what someone would think I should do if they looked at my resume :: but it really is a great fit for me! Here’s hoping my boss feels the same!

 

5. October is National Infant Loss Awareness Month. On the 15ht of October every year, there is an event called “Wave of Light” where candles are lit in honor of babies who have died. Many of you know this. Many of you lit candles for Branch or other sweet babies. Thank you.

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I don’t know how Heaven works, but I like to picture God pulling back the veil, just for a moment, and showing all of Heaven the beautiful wave of candles that burned in honor of our little loves. What a sight.

 

My prayer for this week is that my palms stay cupped in surrender :: offering all I have, and willingly accepting what He places in them.

Happy Tuesday, friends.

~Kristin

 

Tenderness

The word “tender” has been circling my thoughts, heart, inner spaces.

Tender like meat after it has been beaten. Tender like a soft touch. Tender like wounded skin that is healing.

 

This week we celebrated, and mourned, nine months since our little love was born and died. I do not think I am more tender, actually I know for certain I am not, but I am aware of the little spaces that are so fresh — just beginning to heal.

I am aware of the pang of loss that accompanies joy when I see brand new baby boys.

I am aware of the loneliness of grief.

I am aware of other’s uncomfortableness with my sorrow, my loss, my son and his story. This one is very tender.

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“Tender” has three definitions.

1. very loving and gentle, showing affection and love

2. easy to chew or bite, not tough

3. painful when touched

 

In my tenderness, may God guide my broken heart, as I surrender to Him.

Psalm 9:10
“Those who know your name trust in you, for you, LORD, have never forsaken those who seek you.”

 

~Kristin

 

 

 

 

September Twenty-Fourteen

Hello, September.

I have seen you lurking in the distance for a while, and yet you still managed to sneak up on me.

It is hard to not remember your sister, September Twenty-Thirteen, when I see your name. A lot has changed in a year, hasn’t it?

You probably already know this, but tomorrow I start my new job. I have a little bit of nervousness, but mostly excitement, when I think about joining the workforce again. In the past I would become quite nervous, anxious, eager, and afraid when starting a new job. I hated the change, the uncertainty, the not knowing if people liked me or not. Now, I don’t really have any of those feelings. I am going back to a company I know, but more than that, I think job stress is somehow less significant to me now. As a dear friend put it “You have literally lived through hell. Nothing could be worse than what you have already gone through. With that perspective, a new job just isn’t a big deal anymore.”  It was validating, and in a strange way, comforting to hear her say that.

And so, I am looking forward to my job. I am welcoming the change. I am welcoming anxiety and sadness and fear and joy and anything else that comes my way, knowing it is a-ok, even at work. There is nothing wrong with excusing yourself for five minutes to sob hysterically in the bushes. I’m just hoping there are some bushes nearby…

September, you know you symbolize change in many ways. Summer is over, autumn is just around the corner. I remember fall in a different way this year. My therapist friend Laura says our bodies hold on to memories in unique ways — sometimes remembering particularly difficult seasons even when we are not consciously thinking of them. I wonder how my body will respond to fall this year.

Tonight I am going to make Chinese chicken salad and ice cream cookie sandwiches.  It’s a holiday, it’s the day before I go back to work, and more importantly, it’s still Glenn’s birthday weekend. Ice cream cookie sandwiches are always a great way to celebrate, wouldn’t you agree?

I hope you are good to us, September Twenty-Fourteen.  We are a fragile bunch.  Resilient, but still fragile.

Psalm 23:6 NKJV
“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.”

~Kristin