Giveaway Winner, and Prayers for Carly

Thank you so much for sharing your stories... I am honored that this is place where so many would feel comfortable sharing about their precious babies that are no longer here. And while I wish there wasn't a need to pray for one another about something like this, I am grateful that we can... that we have a Father who cares about our hurt and our loss, and that He is caring for the children our arms long to hold.


The winner of the necklace from My Forever Child is...


True Random Number Generator Result: 45 (from random.org)


Comment number 45 was Keisha, in memory of her precious babies Kyndall and Kaiden. Keisha, please e-mail me at coolteacher79@yahoo.com so that I can put you in touch with Sue at My Forever Child.


I would also like to ask you to pray for my friend Carly. Carly's son, Will, was born on January 17, 2008 at 26 weeks. Carly had an early onset of severe preeclampsia and needed to deliver. Will lived for 9 days in the NICU, and passed away on January 26, 2008. Carly is currently pregnant with Will's little brother, and thanks to the addition of several medications to her prenatal care, she has made it further in her pregnancy with this baby than she did with Will... she is currently 30 weeks pregnant. However, at a recent doctor's appointment, Carly learned that her blood pressure is on the rise, and her amniotic fluid levels are have dropped... signs that preeclampsia is beginning to rear its ugly head again.


I am fortunate to know Carly in real life, having met her at the monthly infant loss support group that we both attend. She has been a tremendous support to me in my own grief journey of losing Isaac, and so I would love it if you would join me in praying for her and her sweet baby boy. Please pray that her blood pressure does not continue rise, that her fluid levels do not continue to drop. Please also pray that her baby boy's development and growth aren't constricted by either of these things, and that she is able to make it to at least 32 weeks which is what her doctors are hoping. But we know that our great God is able to do immeasurably more than we could ask or ever imagine, and that Carly could make it much farther than 32 weeks.


Please pray for her... I know she would deeply appreciate it.

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day

First, thank you so much for all of your kind words on Isaac's birthday. Your words are such a gift. It was a difficult day for sure... harder than I had anticipated in some ways, but it was good to have a day with Spencer to really sit and reflect on Isaac and how he has deeply impacted each of our lives.

Many of you know that October 15th is designated as Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. While I am saddened that a day like this has a need to exist, I am glad that it does... as remembering our babies can bring so much healing and hope.

I was doing a little research this weekend about this topic and here are some preliminary findings:

-According to emedicine, the overall miscarriage rate is 15-20%. Some physicians believe this percentage may even be higher, as miscarriage can often occur before a woman even knows she is pregnant.

- Approximately 25,000 babies are stillborn each year in the United States, and according to the March of Dimes, about 19,000 babies die within the first month of life (called neonatal death).

- SIDS claims the lives of over 7000 babies each year nationally.

All of this is simply to say that many, many people are affected by miscarriage, stillbirth, and infant loss. And if you are one of those people I want you to know this: your child matters.

So, I would like to do a few things this October 15th.

First, I would like to pray for you. If you are comfortable, please feel free to share as much of or as little of your story in a comment below. And I would like to invite those of you reading to pray for the people who have courageously shared their stories.

Secondly, Sue Mosquera from My Forever Child has generously offered to allow me to hold a giveaway in honor of October 15th. If you aren't familiar with Sue's work, she creates beautiful remembrance jewelry. She has graciously offered to giveaway a Baby Footprints Heart Necklace. By leaving a comment sharing your story, you are automatically entered in the giveaway. Entries for the giveaway will close at 10pm EST on Thursday, October 15th... but you are certainly welcome to continue to leave comments sharing your stories. The winner will be randomly selected and announced by 12 noon EST on Friday, October 16th. Be sure to check out My Forever Child at http://www.myforeverchild.com/ and www.facebook.com/myforeverchild.
Lastly, as the http://www.october15th.com/ site has announced, you are invited to light a candle on October 15th at 7pm in your time zone to create a wave of light in remembrance of the child/children that you have lost, or in honor of someone else who has lost a child thought miscarriage, stillbirth, and infant death.

So, I will start...

My name is Stacy. In the fall of 2007, we lost baby #1 to a miscarriage due to triploidy discovered at 13 weeks. On October 7, 2008, we met our precious son Isaac at 8:33 am. He passed away due to complications from a series of congenital birth defects 16 minutes later. He is deeply, deeply missed.

Happy Birthday, Sweet Isaac!

While today doesn't necessarily feel happy for us, I know for Isaac it is... for He is safe and secure in the presence of God himself. And for that, I am grateful.

One year ago today, my life was profoundly changed by the most beautiful little boy I have ever laid eyes on. I remember when the nurse brought Isaac over to us after he was born and told us he was alive, the tears came streaming down my face. I couldn't believe he was ours. I wanted so badly to be able to tell him, while he was living, how much I love him and how proud I am of him. I wanted him to feel what it was like for his mommy and daddy to kiss him, to hug him, to snuggle him, and to hold his little hand. I wanted him to fully experience the love his parents... and I know that he did. I am so thankful... I just wish it could have lasted longer.

While talking about our time with Isaac that day has come fairly easily (though not without tears), something I haven't been able to talk much about is later that night when we had to say goodbye... to have the joy of meeting your child juxtaposed with the anguish of having to then say goodbye. This is the part that I am not sure many people think about, particularly if you haven't lost a child yourself. People have mentioned to us how hard it must have been to leave the hospital carrying a picture of Isaac rather than Isaac himself, or how difficult it was to plan and attend your child's funeral. But neither of those moments come close to the pain of handing your son to a nurse you've never met, knowing you'll never see him again on this side of heaven. I am not sure I could ever adequately put into words the way that emotional pain transcends into physical pain at that very moment, the level of emptiness that a parent feels inside, or the sobs that echo through the very core of your being. Nothing about it is right. It is all terribly, terribly wrong, and unfortunately part of the fallen world in which we live. But thankfully, there is a Redeemer who meets us in the midst of life's most painful moments such as these and provides His comfort.

Today Spencer and I will spend time doing several things that we did while I was pregnant with Isaac... a hike at Sugarloaf Mountain and a picnic in a park. Of course we will spend a while at the cemetery, and will send up letters to Isaac carried by blue helium-filled balloons. But I think it goes without saying that these are all just consolations... because I would much rather be putting the finishing touches on a party for this coming weekend... and I would rather see Isaac demolish his first cupcake while attempting to eat it. Gosh I miss him. I know that he is in the most perfect place, but I am still his mom, I am still human, and there's a large part of me that would rather him still be here. Not because I think I can care for him better than God himself... as Spencer reminded me, I can't. But because I love him and I miss him.

Thank you for upholding us in prayer today. Thank you for remembering our sweet little strawberry-blonde haired Isaac with us.

Dear Isaac,

On this day, one year ago, you were born. It was the most glorious day of my life...knowing you has changed me.

I remember when we got to the hospital in the morning, there was already a little gift there for you... a little stuffed lamb... from Taylor and Lenny. We got settled in what would be our room for the day, and nurse Kathy got mommy all hooked up to a bunch of machines and things. One of those machines let us hear your heartbeat. When Mom-Mom, Grandpa Jim, Aunt Kate and Uncle Tim, Pop Pop and Grandma Mia, Grammy and Grandpa Jack all came back to see us before you were born, they could hear your heart beating, too.

Some doctors came in to take one last look at you on the ultrasound machine so that they could figure out the best way to get you out of my tummy safely. It was neat to see you in there one last time.

Pastor Guy and Pastor Rob came back and prayed with us and they prayed for you... knowing that it's never too late for God to perform a miracle and to heal your sweet little body. Then, we went to the operating room where you would be born.

You were born at 8:33am; and while God didn't heal your body like we prayed He would, I know I met a miracle that day-- you. You are the most beautiful baby I have ever seen... your fuzzy hair, your perfect little nose, and cute lips just like daddy's. Daddy and I are so thankful that we got to meet you while you were still alive so that you could feel us hug you and kiss your little face, and so you could clearly hear us tell you how much we love you and how proud we are of you. We do... and we are.

After you were born, nurse Kathy helped us give you a bath an put on the blue little outfit we got for you. Then, you got to meet everyone!! Your grandparents, your aunts and uncles, and some of mommy and daddy's closest friends who also love you very much. We're so glad that they all got to meet you and hold you. You are just precious.

Isaac, do you know that you have changed the world? That your life has impacted many, many people for Jesus? Do you know that there are people who didn't want to go to church who are now going back because of hearing about your life? That over one hundred people played in your golf tournament? That there are people who spend more time with their family, who hug their children a little bit tighter because of you? I am so proud to be your mommy... and I am so thankful that God has chosen to use you in a mighty way.

We miss you so much. We wish that you were here, just learning to walk, babbling out sounds like "dadada" and "mamama", and devouring your first taste of cake. Mommy and daddy know, though, that you are perfectly cared for in heaven... that you are healthy and whole, and that you have everything you need. We are thankful for that; but we still miss you. Deeply.

I love you, Isaac. I am so proud of you. Happy birthday, sweet boy.

Love,

Mommy

Isaac's Slideshow

We will love you forever, sweet Isaac.

A Few Thoughts

Nothing major to report here. Just been hard to not think about "this time last year..." when it seems to be the place my mind naturally wanders. I am really hoping and praying for good weather on Wednesday, as several of the things Spencer and I have planned are outside. While the rain would certainly match my mood, I would rather there be sunshine.

I wanted to take some time to post some passages from scripture, song lyrics, and the like that have just encouraged me... particularly over the past few days.

Romans 8:31-39-- What, then, shall we say in response to this? If God is for us, who can be against us? 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? Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. Who is he that condemns? Christ Jesus, who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written: "For your sake we face death all day long;we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered."No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Hebrews 10:19-23-- Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful.

And, if you have been reading my blog for any length of time, you know that I love the lyrics to songs by Mark Schultz... and the melodies. He has a new album that came out this year, and I heard the song "He Is" for the first time while driving home from visiting family this past weekend.

Father let the world just fade away
Let me feel your presence in this place
Lord I've never been so weary
How I need to know you're near me
Father let the world just fade away
Til I'm on my knees
'Til my heart can sing

HE IS
HE WAS
HE ALWAYS WILL BE
HE LIVES
HE LOVES
HE'S ALWAYS WITH ME
EVEN WHEN IT FEELS LIKE
THERE IS NO ONE HOLDING ME

BE STILL MY SOUL
HE IS

Father let your holy spirit sing
Let it calm the storms inside of me
As I stand amazed
Lift my hands and say

HE IS
HE WAS
HE ALWAYS WILL BE
HE LIVES
HE LOVES
HE'S ALWAYS WITH ME
EVEN WHEN IT FEELS LIKE
THERE IS NO ONE HOLDING ME

BE STILL MY SOUL

Through every fear
And every doubt
In every tear I shed
Down every road
I'm not alone
No Matter where I am

HE IS
HE WAS
HE ALWAYS WILL BE
HE LIVES
HE LOVES
HE ALWAYS WILL BE
EVEN WHEN IT FEELS LIKE
THERE IS NO ONE HOLDING ME

BE STILL MY SOUL
BE STILL AND KNOW
BE STILL MY SOUL
HE IS

While I appreciate the well-intended encouragement to "embrace the change" that has occurred in my life over the last year and to "focus on the positives" so I can "stop suffering over the things I can't control," I just need to say that it doesn't work that way in this. On October 7, 2008 I didn't experience a change, I experienced the birth... and death... of my son. And while God has faithfully continued to show us how He is using Isaac's life for His glory, it doesn't erase the pain of not having Isaac here. As I have shared before, through this experience I have found a whole new appreciation for those who desire to glorify God in their brokenness... people who don't act as if they aren't hurting, haven't been completely rattled, or as if their lives haven't felt like they're falling apart. But rather, people who can authentically be who and where they are, and who can testify to God's goodness and faithfulness in the midst of life's fiercest storms. For a much more articulate version of this, see the lyrics to the song "Broken and Beautiful" written by none other than... Mark Schultz.

I am just so thankful for God's promises in His word, that He is faithful and true even when life is hard and when I am missing Isaac so much that it hurts.

UPDATE-- I just found this video today about the song "He Is" that I mentioned above. In this video, Mark Schultz explains the song's meaning and how he came to write it. Watch it... I know you'll be encouraged and blessed.

10 days...

The fact that Isaac's birthday is approaching in 10 days has been wearing on me. I am just finding myself sort of heightened emotionally, not sleeping too well, and just overall a little more exhausted than usual.

On a positive note, Spencer and I finally found a cedar chest in which to store Isaac's things. What we haven't hung on walls or displayed has been sitting in the room that would have been his nursery for the past year. I just hadn't been ready to put them away... doing so just felt like I was moving on and I have been having a hard time with that recently. But yesterday, we went up to an Amish market and found a beautiful cedar chest that we both loved. We wanted it made slightly differently than the version they had in the store, so they were kind enough to custom order one for us. It won't be here in time for Isaac's birthday, but that's okay.

I had a dream last night about October 7th... I dreamed that I accidentally went to work because I had forgotten what day it was. When I showed up, my substitute teacher was there and was confused as to why I was there; when I realized it, I felt horrible... not believing I could forget a day as important as this. That must have been about the time I woke up.

And believe me... there's no place I would rather NOT be right now than work. While my hopes of this being better year were high, it just hasn't been the case. At all. I am thankful to have a job, and enjoy the students I am working with... but other aspects of my job are just not going well.

So throughout the next 10 days, we would really appreciate your prayers as I can feel the tidal wave of grief swelling and growing. I have learned to predict fairly well when it's going to strike, and I know October 7th will be no exception. The truth is, almost a year later, I still miss my son. Terribly. While the Lord has graciously carried us a long way through this journey, I don't miss Isaac any less... and I really don't think I ever will. I am learning that the missing just sort of becomes Incorporated into the fabric of who you are when you've lost a child... not that it ever goes away.

We appreciate your prayers for us and your continued words of encouragement. I know that the Lord uses them mightily.

The Biggest Loser

Spencer and I totally have a thing for this show... The Biggest Loser. While both of us probably got into watching it because of our own interest in health and fitness, I now continue watching because I feel like you get to know so much about the contestants... their personalities, their stories. And quite frankly, they are just downright inspiring.

I missed this season's premier last Tuesday, and randomly found that some channel was re-airing it last night. So of course, Spence and I tuned in. This season's theme is all about second chances. There's a guy on there from last season, who we were actually really pulling for but he got voted off fairly early. Person after person was sharing their stories about why they wanted to come on the show.

And then they got to Abby.

Abby talked about how she had a husband, a 3 or 4 year-old daughter, and a 2 week old son. While this statement may not have alerted anyone else to what she was about to say, when you listen with the ears of a parent who has lost a child you notice subtleties such as the fact that Abby referred to her family in the past tense. I knew what she was going to say next couldn't be good.

And then she said it.

All three were killed in the same fatal car crash.

As my tears came pouring out, I just wanted to jump through the screen and hug this woman.

As she explained what happened, she said something along the lines of how every role she filled was taken away from her... being a wife... being a mother. It made so much sense. And so often, I have felt similarly.

Over the past almost year, it has been so hard to figure out what my role is as a mother when Isaac isn't here to love and to raise. We've been so fortunate to be presented with opportunities to share Isaac with others... through this blog, his memorial service, the golf tournament. Yet in the day-to-day, it is still such a difficult thing to have people ask you if you have any kids because they don't see your child with you... or worse yet, to just assume that you don't and tell you how "lucky" you are because once you do have kids, you can no longer have the freedom to just do this or that. Trust me... I'd give up that freedom in a nanosecond if it meant having Isaac here, as I am sure you well know.

In a little over two weeks, we'll be remembering Isaac's birthday... we'll no longer be counting months since we last hugged him and kissed his little face. It will be years, which is just really strange to be. I'm starting to really feel the heaviness of all of this weigh on me, and we'd appreciate your prayers as we continue to anticipate October 7th and plan a day for Spencer and I to be together and to remember our son.

And tune in on Tuesday nights to watch Abby and the rest of the gang. Despite Jillian and Ed's ridiculous training tactics, I don't think you'll be disappointed.

By Your Side

It's taking its toll on me that I haven't had the time to write here as much as I would like. Getting back to work has just turned my schedule crazy... much busier than I would like to be. The start of the school year is typically like that, but I certainly don't prefer my weeks to be this way.

So in the midst of the craziness, things would strike me and I would think, "I need to write about this." And of course, by the time I get around to it, it's the weekend... and I may or may not have remembered what I wanted to write; and if I did remember, it's usually with a lot less detail than I would like.

This morning, I was just thinking about a song that has been popping up a lot lately called "By Your Side" by Tenth Avenue North. I don't have much to say about it, other than the lyrics have spoken to me on so many levels, and to so many aspects of my life. I hope they speak to you as well this morning.

Why are you striving these days
Why are you trying to earn grace
Why are you crying
Let me lift up your face
Just don't turn away

Why are you looking for love
Why are you still searching as if I'm not enough
To where will you go child
Tell me where will you run
To where will you run

And I'll be by your side
Wherever you fall
In the dead of night
Whenever you call
And please don't fight
These hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you

Look at these hands and my side
They swallowed the grave on that night
When I drank the world's sin
So I could carry you in
And give you life
I want to give you life

(Chorus 2x)

Cause I, I love you
I want you to know
That I, I love you
I'll never let you go

(Chorus 2x)

Risk is Right

Our small group is still working through John Piper's book Don't Waste Your Life. It's been a slow go at this book, but Piper's writing is laden with so much wisdom that it takes a while to read and let it all soak in.

Last night we were discussing the fifth chapter in this book that talks about risk. As I read through this chapter in preparation, I was profoundly struck by so many things that Piper had to say.

He begins by defining risk as an action that exposes you to the possibility of loss or injury, and continues on by talking about how the life that magnifies Christ the most is the one of costly love. Piper continues by talking about how risk is unavoidable because this world is anything but safe.

He explored the scriptures, talking about Joab leading the Israelites into battle against the Amalekites and Syians in 2 Samuel 10. He talked about Esther, who was implored by her cousin Mordecai to go before the king and plead the case of her (the Jewish) people. And in both cases, Piper points out that both Joab and Esther had to choose to risk or run. They both chose the path of great risk, and handed the results over to God.

This morning I am glancing back at the note I made in the margin which says, "This is so scary!" I feel like that's true on so many levels. First, I think that being in control gives us a facade of safety. When we hand the results over to someone else, we're no longer in control. It doesn't feel safe. It's risky. Secondly, as Piper points out, that when we risk for the cause of God, there is no promise that every effort will succeed, at least not in the short run. When we make the decision to risk boldly for the sake of making much of God and hand the results over to Him, in His sovereignty, He may allow the unthinkable, the disastrous, the catastrophic to happen. In His infinite wisdom, He knows what will bring Him the most glory.

While I was pregnant with Isaac and so many of us (and you) were praying for his healing, I just kept thinking to myself, "The stage is set, Lord. You can come in, heal this precious little boy, and thousands of people would bear witness to your greatness. The doctors have said this is impossible, but with You, all things are possible." It never occurred to me at the time that He could have been setting the stage to somehow receive greater glory by saying, "No" when the results were handed over to Him.

I am only just now beginning to really understand this... to understand how, in this situation God is somehow receiving greater glory through our pain, rather than the miracle we prayed for; through loss, rather than restoration on this side of heaven.

But I can tell you with absolute resolve, that I don't regret for one minute choosing the road of costly love.

Piper draws this chapter to a close by saying, "On the far side of every risk- even if it results in death- the love of God triumphs." And it has. The love of God triumphs in the way that He has faithfully cared and provided for Spencer and I over the last year. The love of God triumphs in the way that He didn't spare His only son so that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life. The love of God triumphs in the fact that Isaac is safe in His presence.

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

~ Romans 8:37-39

11 Months

The fact that this is the last "month marker" we'll pass for Isaac is hitting me hard this morning. I wish so much that I was picking out invitations and planning his first birthday party; but instead, Spencer and I are figuring out how to remember Isaac on October 7th in a different way. For the last few months, I had sort of felt like I was in a holding pattern, but these past couple of weeks with fall beginning to make its presence known, and with October 7 drawing nearer, I have found myself missing Isaac in such a fresh way.

At some point, and I am not quite sure when, I went from missing the little baby boy who was born on October 7 of last year, to starting to miss the 9, 10, and now 11 month-old baby boy who I long to have here with us... a little boy who can crawl, pull himself up, has a few teeth, or maybe even take a few steps by now (at least, if he took after his mom!). It's all hard to put into words... the fact that you can miss someone in a fresh, new way. But I do. A lot.

There's this old saying that goes, "There's no rest for the weary." In some ways, our schedule over the last year would indicate that. As I was driving (somewhere... I don't remember) the other day, I began thinking about that phrase in a different way... how we KNOW rest for the weary. I suppose my Reading/English teacher mind comes up with things like that.

I began thinking about the last two years of our lives, really... my mother-in-law's diagnosis of cancer (from which she is now cancer-free!), my miscarriage at 13 weeks, and then our sweet Isaac. Suffice it to say that Spencer and I have felt extremely weary over the last two years... particularly, these last 15 or 16 months. Yet as I thought through all that the Lord has allowed us to endure, I also was struck by His promise in Matthew 11:28-29, a passage that seems to be popping up everywhere lately...

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.

I am so thankful that the worn out, the wounded, the hurting, the burdened, and the weary can KNOW rest. I know we have... in the midst of loss, grief, heartache, and missing someone more than I thought was humanly possible, God has been faithful in allowing us to rest in Him.

So, the next time life takes you down a path where you feel like there's no rest for the weary... remember that the weary can KNOW rest when those burdens are placed at the feet of Jesus.

September?!?

How on earth has it gotten to be September already? The month made its presence quickly known around here... cool evenings, almost brisk mornings, warm days with a nice breeze. A far cry from the hot, muggy, humid summers of the mid-Atlantic.

I remember turning the calendar to September last year... realizing it was the last time I would turn to a month where Isaac would be alive the whole time. How weird is that... to know that in September of 2008, Isaac would be with us. Through all of it. In my tummy, kicking away. And in October 2008, he would be with us for some of it... but not all of it. It would be the month where hello also meant goodbye... two words that should never be ushered in the same breath.

I remember sitting in counseling a few months ago talking with her (the counselor I see) about where I am in my grief journey, and she shared with me how grief is an incredibly sensory experience. At the time, it made sense to me in my head, but I didn't totally "get it." I had always thought of grief as an emotional thing, and a spiritual thing... but not necessarily a sensory thing.

These past few days, it has really struck me. The coolness of the air as I went for a run, the smell of pumpkin bread cooking in my oven... all of the things that start to speak of fall.

Fall.

When Isaac was born... and when he passed away.

This past Sunday when we visited the cemetery, it was a bit cooler than usual. There was this great breeze and I just remember thinking how much it physically started to feel like the days we visited the cemetery shortly after Isaac was buried.

I guess it's just hard for me to know that in 5 days, we'll mark the last month milestone since Isaac was born... then we'll be moving onto years.

Years.

Gosh, that sounds so long... so much farther than I want to be from my son.

I know this post is a bit random, and I am not sure if it even makes any sense. :) It's just hard to articulate the realization that the one year mark of your son's birth... and death... is dawning. And while I am so thankful for how the Lord has brought us through this and where He has led us, there's a part of me that wishes it wasn't all feeling like it was slipping so far away.

I suppose it's times like this that I am reminded, and am so thankful, that eternity is far greater than any distance that can be measured in months, years, or even decades.