Dear Sarah,

I'm really missing you today. We had a house full of guests over the holidays...all of your family was here running around like crazy, enjoying the festivities of your Auntie's engagement and a Thanksgiving feast! Ellie and Nicholas were here too...they would have really loved you. You would have loved them. They were busy playing with trucks and dolls and exploring the backyard. Ellie and I combed the beach for sea glass and ran from the waves before they touched our feet. I didn't realize how much I was missing you in all of this until everyone left...until the house was quiet again. It was then I realized what we're missing in not having you here.

I had dreamed of your joy and laughter and even cries filling our little house. Every space would have been occupied with your presence...with your life. Now, we sit empty...and after having the kids here for a week, my heart grieves even more the silence that embodies us.

For the most part we're doing really well. Your memorial service was so healing. I didn't want to let that dove go...I felt I was finally letting you go...but after releasing it and watching it join the rest of the flock, I felt a huge weight lift off of my shoulders. Thanks for being there with us. Thanks for showing up. I feel the reality of your heavenly presence even more now than I did before. Your ashes are no longer sitting on our book shelf and your baby blanket is no longer in view. My heart deeply misses you, but I'm thankful to have stepped further into healing.

Another change is that we're pregnant again! We're not sure whether we're 2 or 3 months along - we still have to visit the doctor - but its exciting none the less :) I know that this child will never replace you, but only add to our family. I've been pushing away the fears that something is wrong with this child too. The pregnancy has been relatively easy so far compared to when I carried you, so in some ways it feels too good to be true. Hopefully it is just the grace of God.

I miss you my sweet girl. I miss the sounds that never came from your beautiful mouth. I miss the memories that will never be....but I'm thankful for the time I did have with you. I'm thankful that you are safe and comfortable, away from the pain and struggle of this world. I'm thankful for you.

With all my heart,

Your Mommy

Beauty for Ashes...

Memorial Service for Sarah Elizabeth...

Hello again,

It's been a while since we have written concerning Sarah Elizabeth. Six months have passed since her birth and we have slowly been moving forward in healing and restoration of our hearts. We have decided that it is time to do a memorial service. We questioned doing one at all, but have found that our hearts really need this closure.

We wanted to extend an open invitation to anyone who would like to come. The service is at noon, it will be a simple and short service to honor God and to honor Sarah. We chose this time for those that may be working so you can stop by on your lunch break.

Memorial Service for Sarah Elizabeth Dalton
Friday, November 21st, 2008 at twelve o'clock noon

Santa Barbara Cemetery
901 Channel Dr
Santa Barbara, CA 93108

It is not necessary to wear the traditional "black" - just come as you are, there is no need to dress up unless you want to.

Thank you. We really look forward to seeing you there.


Joseph and Jennifer Dalton

Healing for the Heart

Check out the new website for our ministry Healing for the Heart! We started the journey into this alternative approach to counseling right around the time Sarah was conceived....so her life and our journey with her and intimately intertwined with this ministry. We are so thankful for all that she taught us in her short life here on earth...we will forever be grateful.

Click here....Healing for the Heart website!

6 months

It's hard to believe tomorrow will mark 6 months since I gave birth to Sarah. In some ways, it feels like just yesterday. Other days I feel as if the whole thing was just a dream. Joseph's sister Laura created this beautiful image out of Sarah's footprints...I've loved looking at it every day as I wake up as a reminder of the journey, the loss and the gain.

Yesterday when I saw her footprints, something in me unraveled. It brought back memories of her sweet spirit within me. Her strong kick to my ribs (which I would give anything to have back!) The journey of giving birth to her as a stillborn. I remember laying on the hospital bed and being told "her heart is no longer beating". It was the most devastating end to such a heroic fight for life and for justice. I looked at Joseph and said, "I'm not pushing a dead baby out. They can cut me open. I'm done."

As we sat in the dry, empty room, my mind passed back over the journey and something in me shifted. I had fought for an entire pregnancy, why would I give up now? I don't know if it was the mother within me, or the desire to finish what we had started...but some kind of hope rose up in me and I knew I had to go through with the labor. How could I opt out for a c-section after all that we had been through? I felt like I owed it to Sarah...she deserved a natural entry into this world...even though she would never call it home.

Memories flooded back of holding Sarah. Her long legs and her cute little stomach. Her soft hands and her beautiful head of hair. I have regrets. I regret allowing the nurse to take her from my arms when she did. Why didn't I say no? Why didn't I request more time with my daughter? This was my only chance to hold her in this lifetime. I regret not taking more pictures of Joseph and I holding her. I regret not taking time with her myself. Alone. Just mom and daughter. It all happened so fast and people were busy coming in and out of the room. I regret opening the bag they brought in shortly after they took her away, only to find the outfit we had dressed her in all folded up and back in our hands. Why did they give me these so soon? Why did they leave her naked? I couldn't help but picture my sweet little girl...all alone, naked and cold. I wish they would have kept her clothes on. I wish I wouldn't have opened the bag.

I miss my little girl, but life goes on. We're moving forward and doing our best to balance "remembering" Sarah with staying in the moment of today - not the past. I realized today that I still have a lot to work through. Six months has just scratched the surface of all of my questions, doubts, regrets, confusion, etc. In my heart, I know that Sarah is in the best place possible. She's among the best company we could ask for. I sometimes daydream of Sarah playing in Heaven with Joseph's father Jack. I imagine the look in his eyes as he gazes at our daughter - does he see his son in her? Is he getting a glimpse of me, the daughter-in-law he was never able to meet? I hope they've met...I hope they're in each others arms.

I still need to work through the healing of "why didn't it turn out different?" Why are all my friends having perfectly healthy babies with no complications? Some are 3, 4, 5 healthy kids down the road. My sister-in-law just announced that she's pregnant with her 3rd. As excited as I was to imagine another niece or nephew in our lives, I couldn't help but feel the sadness creep in. Why aren't we pregnant again God? When will you allow us to have children? Is there more healing you want for me before I get pregnant? If so...please, bring it quickly...to have a child in my arms - a child we call our own - I think I will fall to my face in thanksgiving and joy.

Days have passed...

It's been 6 weeks since I walked out of Cottage Hospital and straight into the face of grief. 6 weeks since my body shrunk and left behind a beautiful sleeping child in the hands of her Creator. Days have passed...and are still passing...

I'm not sure where to start, but I wanted to share with you how Joseph and I are holding up since the passing of our precious Sarah Elizabeth. Joseph has definitely worn the pain a lot more gracefully than I can admit to...but I know also that he didn't have the experience of carrying Sarah and connecting with her every hour of every day. The grief is real and the loss is tangible, but his heart is grateful and his eyes full of life. For me, on the other hand...let's just say that if I had been given the task of writing updates on this blog, well, they wouldn't have washed over you quite as nicely as Joseph's words did. Don't get me wrong...my heart said "yes" to every word he wrote. I'm thankful for the way he positioned his heart. It allowed all of us to join in the journey that God had so evidently orchestrated. I guess what I'm trying to say is that if it had been my hands writing the updates...it would have looked more like a chaotic combination of instruments rather than a peaceful river of music.

So how are we now? Well...it depends on the day, the hour and often even the minute that you may ask. Some days I'm filled with joy and thankfulness, others I give life my best effort and may only get to the end of our driveway before turning around and deciding I'm not ready to face the world. Every car seat and stroller, pregnant woman and baby girl seem to pull the plug on my never ending tears...it seems that everything around me reminds me of Sarah and the loss of my motherhood. I know that we will have healthy children when the time comes to get pregnant again...but the reality is that I wanted my beautiful little girl in my arms NOW, not someday when I make my way into life after death. I had spent 9 months preparing my heart, my mind, my emotions and even my home for this sweet little girl to be joining our family. 9 months passed and instead of giving birth to a healthy little girl like we had dreamed and hoped and prayed for...I gave birth to silence. And that silence seems to be what I'm fighting the most in this sadness. My home, even though she never was here, seems to be so silent with her laughter and cries missing. It's a silence that no music can fill...a void that seems to be a sort of endless pit.

I have hope.

Although my arms are empty and my heart full of pain and loss, I know that my little girl is in the best possible place we could ask for as her parents. I know that God is good and that in the midst of all of this, His character and His incredible destiny for us has not been shaken or moved. I know that there are people going through pain and grief so similar to mine every day of every year...

Yet all that "knowing" still doesn't erase what I'm feeling. So...I'm learning to be real. I'm learning that its okay to "not be okay". I'm learning that for once, I don't have to be strong or spiritual about all of this...but that I can sit back and rest and cry and take the time I need to breathe through all that's needing to be processed. I have a husband that is incredibly patient and loving and family and friends who I know are praying and loving me the best they know how. I'm so thankful for all of that. I'm so grateful to "know" and have a foundation with God that has allowed me to ask the hard questions and look into the pain without ignoring the truth of how wonderful our Father truly is.

I wanted to let you all know that we are well. It has been hard (that may be an understatement), but it has also been beautiful and surprisingly special. I'm thankful that God chose us to walk through Sarah's 9 months of life with her...I have so much to learn from her. Although to some, she seems like only a passing wind, I know that Sarah will be a part of our lives forever. She will forever be our daughter and we will forever be her mom and dad.

Thanks again for all the prayers and support that continue to come our way...all the flowers and cards and meals. You all have been such an encouragement to Joseph and I. Thank you.

We are hoping to continue to update The Sarah Pages as time goes on...so check back every once in a while to see if we've taken the time to write again :) We have loved sharing in this journey with all of you and hope to continue to share with you in all that's to come...

With a thankful heart,

Jen (and Joseph)

99 Balloons...

An old friend sent a video link to me the other day. It's a short video (6 minutes), but helped bring some much needed healing to my heart. It's a story about another couple who went through a similar journey to Joseph and mine...only this family was graced with 99 days with their little Eliot. Please watch, we really think you'd be as blessed as we were. (thanks to Stone Crandall for recommending it!)

99 Balloons

In case the above link doesn't work...here is the web address: http://www.ignitermedia.com/products/iv/singles/570/99-Balloons

much love, jen