We made it through Christmas.
We made it through New Year's.
We made it through January 3rd.
I was so anxious about the holidays this year - the holidays which I usually want to hold on to as long as possible and squeeze every bit of joy from to fully enjoy the time. But this year was different. It wasn't that the meaning of Christmas was any different to me, of course it wasn't. Everything just held a slightly different perspective for me than it did before. I felt almost foolish shopping for so many gifts and lavishing so many wonderful presents on my girls. Gifts don't matter. They don't make you truly happy. It made me feel empty. The songs were just as magical and exciting as before, but my thoughts went a little deeper with them this year. Mary, did you know? How did you make it through? How? Breath of Heaven, hold me together. I prayed that everyday.
I actually got sick before Christmas, which turned into really, really sick the day after Christmas. My in-laws came to visit and I was not a good hostess. I literally laid in bed feeling sick as could be for about six days straight. Happy New Year to me! I was miserable. The doctor said it was just a bad virus, but I still swear there was a touch of pneumonia in there. I had a touch of vertigo with it (how awful! Have you had it? Ugh!), which meant no reading for me, just laying in bed. And lots of thinking. I would've loved a distraction from all that thinking. Every day after Christmas, I couldn't help but wonder if "today" would have been the day my baby would have been born. It was futile to think about, and I got frustrated when I realized that it's not even a question God can answer for me someday. My baby was never meant to be born around now - God planned that from the beginning. That's a very frustrating thing to think about. As I laid in bed on New Year's Day, I saw a story about the first baby born in 2008. I admit I felt a little bitter. Would it have been him? I'll never know.
By the time January 3rd rolled around, my in-laws had gone back home and I was out of bed, feeling a bit better. I remember waking up that morning feeling really melancholy. Would today have been the day? Would Joshua have been born on his due date? The day came and went quietly. I was thankful for that, and almost surprised by how ordinary it felt. Were there really no alarms sounding or reporters to cover the day which might have been? Of course there weren't, although more than once that day I remember looking around at people, thinking, "Don't they know?" Of course not, silly.
My mom and sisters stayed with Emma and Addie while we went to Josh's grave on Thursday, my first time since we laid him to rest back in September. Gary brought a shovel to push the snow away from his spot. Tears stung my eyes as Gary frantically moved snow around, trying to uncover his son's grave. It just wasn't right. I'm sure Gary didn't mean to look frantic, but I couldn't read it as anything but. It was so cold outside, and our baby was laying underneath the ground. Nothing about that moment seemed fair or right or explainable. To make matters a bit worse, his grave is still anonymous because the marker still isn't in. They promised it would be before Christmas, then before the 3rd, and now it's supposedly scheduled for the 11th.
I feel like I was kind of on auto-pilot, flying in a holding pattern until January 3rd. I guess I sort of thought I'd have permission to move on and not feel like life was sucked out of me anymore. I knew I'd still feel deep loss and sadness, but I guess I thought I'd wake up on January 4th feeling like it was a new day, a new chapter. January 4th was almost worse. I woke up the next day and still... nothing. Still an empty place in our family which we thought would be filled by now with tiny toes and gurgles.
As sad as this all sounds, I actually feel surprised a lot of the time that we've made it til now. The world seemed a dark and lonely place on August 30th and 31st. It seemed like nothing worse had ever happened to anyone, nor would it again. My pain is not diminished by learning of others' grief, but God has shown me over and over again that I'm not alone. He's also shown me that they made it to the other side, and it's an amazing thing to look back and see that I'm on the other side too. Yes, I still have some sad days, but we've learned to be thankful for the trial God walked through with us. I didn't feel his warm breath, but I'm so, so thankful that we got to hold Joshua Dale for just a few hours. Was it under ideal circumstances? Oh, absolutely not. Would I change it? You bet. But I can't look back and not be grateful. We still have a kajillion questions that we'll ask Jesus someday, but until then, we just hang on to the hope we have in the Lord and trust that He's taking care of Joshua for us.
And God is good. So good. We found out before Christmas that we're expecting again! The news was bittersweet, that's for sure. I cried tears of joy and tears of fear and tears of sorrow for the baby boy I was missing. But a baby is always a gift from the Lord, and He's given us another gift. This baby won't replace Joshua, nor is that our intent. We felt like our family wasn't complete, and when we left it in God's hands, those two pink lines showed up in no time. Are we ready to do this again? I don't know. I know that we're scared. After what we've been through, it's hard to not be a little gun-shy. We were talking about summer plans, and it was hard to agree that I couldn't go on a trip at 34 weeks... would I make it that far? Normally I'd never question it, but nothing is certain to us anymore. And yet, I can't, CAN'T live in fear everyday of this pregnancy. Romans 8:15-17 in The Message says, "This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It's adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike "What's next, Papa?" God's Spirit touches our spirits and confirms who we really are. We know who he is, and we know who we are: Father and children. And we know we are going to get what's coming to us—an unbelievable inheritance! We go through exactly what Christ goes through. If we go through the hard times with him, then we're certainly going to go through the good times with him!"
Oh, I love that! I read that the other day and have held tightly to it since then. So instead of thinking, "Here we go again" between trips to the bathroom (to puke, mind you), I'm eagerly asking, "What's next Papa?" Okay, maybe not quite so eagerly, and I assure you that there's not a smile on my face as I'm hunched over the toilet, but I am trusting that through fatigue and through energy, through morning sickness and feeling great, through new life or through death, He's with me and I'll make it. He promises that.
So, with mixed emotions, but mostly great joy, I'm counting down the days until August 8th (hey! 08-08-08!) until I can hold a new baby in my arms. I'm counting on it, God, but I'm trusting you with my life, and the one growing inside me.
Monday, January 07, 2008
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Seriously?
I know I already wrote once today, but we just got back from the library holiday party and something is on my mind.
The librarian pulled out a snowman puppet. She said, "Do you know what this is?" Of course all the kids shouted, "SNOWMAN!" at the top of their lungs. With that understanding, nodding, I-hate-to-correct-you-but... look on her face, the librarian answered, "That's right, children. It's a snowperson."
SNOWPERSON?
Seriously?
This PC stuff has gone a little too far if you ask me. I was shocked that while we sang "Rudolph" she wore a blinking red nose. Couldn't that have hurt someone's feelings if say, perhaps, their nose was red from coming into the cold and they felt badly about it? Come on.
Snowperson. Pfffft.
The librarian pulled out a snowman puppet. She said, "Do you know what this is?" Of course all the kids shouted, "SNOWMAN!" at the top of their lungs. With that understanding, nodding, I-hate-to-correct-you-but... look on her face, the librarian answered, "That's right, children. It's a snowperson."
SNOWPERSON?
Seriously?
This PC stuff has gone a little too far if you ask me. I was shocked that while we sang "Rudolph" she wore a blinking red nose. Couldn't that have hurt someone's feelings if say, perhaps, their nose was red from coming into the cold and they felt badly about it? Come on.
Snowperson. Pfffft.
Wisdom of a 4-year-old
Tuesday was a humbling day.
For the last month or more, my friend Kim and I had been planning our MOPS Christmas brunch which was Tuesday morning. We had the perfect speaker scheduled, we planned all the appropriate ice breakers and games, we had gotten gifts for all of the moms who would be attending, we had all the Christmas music ready on the iPod, we had a "Christmas past" slideshow ready to go, we had a delicious caterer all lined up (which we splurged on out of our budget), and on Monday, some of the leaders showed up to help us turn our ordinary meeting room into a Christmas wonderland. I even bought a new Christmas top to wear that morning. I was excited. (No, not a Christmas sweater with snowman and holly and snowflakes and sleighs all seen through a windowpane carefully embroidered onto the loose-fitting sweater. No. It was plain red and it was classy.)
And then it started snowing.
And snowing.
And snowing.
And the snow started freezing.
And freezing.
And freezing.
The first phone call I received Tuesday morning was from our speaker, Joanne, who was hesitant to say she just couldn't make it afterall. I had not slept well that night, praying that the snow would not hinder our morning plans, but sure enough, it was slick out there. I couldn't blame her one single bit for not wanting to make the 1-hour drive up to Boulder. Afterall, when I looked outside, I was hoping my own sister wouldn't attempt it from an hour away either, so it wouldn't have been fair for me to expect Joanne to risk her life. A lot of cities betweeen here and there were on accident alert, her girls' school was on a weather delay, and her husband was out of town. I cringed as she told me the news, but really, I was relieved for her, and would probably have made the same decision myself.
The next phone call I received was from the mom who coordinates our childcare workers, two of whom had called to cancel due to the weather. We're already short on workers, so this was bad news.
I called my co-coordinator and we tried to figure out what to do... cancel or go ahead with whoever comes, even if it's just she and I?
The next phone call I received was from one of our group leaders who said that all but one of her 14 moms would be coming. Things weren't looking good.
We hemmed and hawed, and cancelled the meeting twice only to call it back "on" again. By the time we'd finished making and receiving calls, we left very late, and were just sick that now, we were going to be late to our own meeting.
Emma tells me some funny jokes lately, and the "joke" on the way to the church on Tuesday morning was, "Mommy, have you ever seen a car ice skating? Funny?" (Um, yes, Emma! I have! And no, NOT FUNNY!)
It turns out that by the time everyone trickled in, we had 30 of the 50 moms we expected! We couldn't believe it. It was a bumpy morning, and we winged a lot of it, but there was still a sweet spirit of moms who just wanted to be together and get a break. One mom said, "No amount of snow is going to stop me from 2 hours of free childcare so I can be with friends!"
We might not have played the games we planned, the slideshow didn't work, we missed our speaker, and I didn't wear my new red shirt. I think I was in protest that my morning just wasn't turning out right. But you know, the morning still pointed to Jesus, and that's what we wanted.
When we got home, I was helping Emma wash some sticky candy cane off of her hands (a normal candy cane, mind you), when she said, "Good morning God, this is your day. I am your child, show me your way."
I immediately got choked up and asked where and when she learned that, to which she didn't have an answer. I wish that she had come into my room when I woke that morning to tell me that. It might have changed my whole attitude. I wasn't mad that Joanne couldn't come (disappointed that I didn't get to hang out with her? Yes!), or that the slideshow didn't work, or that there weren't as many moms as we planned. I was disappointed that we were so indecisive that it caused us to be late, and disappointed that I didn't get to wear my new shirt. (How petty, I know.) I was mad that there was so much snow and that it seemed to be the catalyst of a whole morning of change. But do any of these things matter? Not really. When I looked at it, I realized that I was upset and disappointed about things that I had planned. What God planned had still happened.
I'm ashamed to say that I didn't once stop to pause and pray about things that morning during all of the chaos of the morning. I prayed for all of our moms' safety and I prayed for Joanne's drive before she cancelled. Amidst all of the decision making, I do remember having a constant dialogue with God, along the lines of, "Why did you have to make it snow so much? Should we cancel the morning? What if moms get in accidents? What will we do with the filler time? Will the caterer be able to get there, God? Can we freeze the left over food?" I never once said, "Good morning, God. This is your day. I am your child. Show me your way."
I'm relieved that God redeemed the morning, and even my attitude that day. One mom even said it was the best meeting so far. (Was she just being nice?) But I think it's because God showed up and took over, especially because we were clueless. By the time Kim and I got there, the meeting had started, they were getting food, the music was on and everything was fine. I learned that I'm not in charge. God is. Maybe he just needed me out of the way that morning so he could do his thing.
- - - - -
By the way, Joanne had a running dialogue of her prep for the meeting the day before and then her decision not to come on her blog, if you want the "other side" of the story. I truly, truly think she made the right decision, and am glad she didn't risk it. I just feel badly for all the work you put into the morning that never was, Joanne! Can't wait for next time...
For the last month or more, my friend Kim and I had been planning our MOPS Christmas brunch which was Tuesday morning. We had the perfect speaker scheduled, we planned all the appropriate ice breakers and games, we had gotten gifts for all of the moms who would be attending, we had all the Christmas music ready on the iPod, we had a "Christmas past" slideshow ready to go, we had a delicious caterer all lined up (which we splurged on out of our budget), and on Monday, some of the leaders showed up to help us turn our ordinary meeting room into a Christmas wonderland. I even bought a new Christmas top to wear that morning. I was excited. (No, not a Christmas sweater with snowman and holly and snowflakes and sleighs all seen through a windowpane carefully embroidered onto the loose-fitting sweater. No. It was plain red and it was classy.)
And then it started snowing.
And snowing.
And snowing.
And the snow started freezing.
And freezing.
And freezing.
The first phone call I received Tuesday morning was from our speaker, Joanne, who was hesitant to say she just couldn't make it afterall. I had not slept well that night, praying that the snow would not hinder our morning plans, but sure enough, it was slick out there. I couldn't blame her one single bit for not wanting to make the 1-hour drive up to Boulder. Afterall, when I looked outside, I was hoping my own sister wouldn't attempt it from an hour away either, so it wouldn't have been fair for me to expect Joanne to risk her life. A lot of cities betweeen here and there were on accident alert, her girls' school was on a weather delay, and her husband was out of town. I cringed as she told me the news, but really, I was relieved for her, and would probably have made the same decision myself.
The next phone call I received was from the mom who coordinates our childcare workers, two of whom had called to cancel due to the weather. We're already short on workers, so this was bad news.
I called my co-coordinator and we tried to figure out what to do... cancel or go ahead with whoever comes, even if it's just she and I?
The next phone call I received was from one of our group leaders who said that all but one of her 14 moms would be coming. Things weren't looking good.
We hemmed and hawed, and cancelled the meeting twice only to call it back "on" again. By the time we'd finished making and receiving calls, we left very late, and were just sick that now, we were going to be late to our own meeting.
Emma tells me some funny jokes lately, and the "joke" on the way to the church on Tuesday morning was, "Mommy, have you ever seen a car ice skating? Funny?" (Um, yes, Emma! I have! And no, NOT FUNNY!)
It turns out that by the time everyone trickled in, we had 30 of the 50 moms we expected! We couldn't believe it. It was a bumpy morning, and we winged a lot of it, but there was still a sweet spirit of moms who just wanted to be together and get a break. One mom said, "No amount of snow is going to stop me from 2 hours of free childcare so I can be with friends!"
We might not have played the games we planned, the slideshow didn't work, we missed our speaker, and I didn't wear my new red shirt. I think I was in protest that my morning just wasn't turning out right. But you know, the morning still pointed to Jesus, and that's what we wanted.
When we got home, I was helping Emma wash some sticky candy cane off of her hands (a normal candy cane, mind you), when she said, "Good morning God, this is your day. I am your child, show me your way."
I immediately got choked up and asked where and when she learned that, to which she didn't have an answer. I wish that she had come into my room when I woke that morning to tell me that. It might have changed my whole attitude. I wasn't mad that Joanne couldn't come (disappointed that I didn't get to hang out with her? Yes!), or that the slideshow didn't work, or that there weren't as many moms as we planned. I was disappointed that we were so indecisive that it caused us to be late, and disappointed that I didn't get to wear my new shirt. (How petty, I know.) I was mad that there was so much snow and that it seemed to be the catalyst of a whole morning of change. But do any of these things matter? Not really. When I looked at it, I realized that I was upset and disappointed about things that I had planned. What God planned had still happened.
I'm ashamed to say that I didn't once stop to pause and pray about things that morning during all of the chaos of the morning. I prayed for all of our moms' safety and I prayed for Joanne's drive before she cancelled. Amidst all of the decision making, I do remember having a constant dialogue with God, along the lines of, "Why did you have to make it snow so much? Should we cancel the morning? What if moms get in accidents? What will we do with the filler time? Will the caterer be able to get there, God? Can we freeze the left over food?" I never once said, "Good morning, God. This is your day. I am your child. Show me your way."
I'm relieved that God redeemed the morning, and even my attitude that day. One mom even said it was the best meeting so far. (Was she just being nice?) But I think it's because God showed up and took over, especially because we were clueless. By the time Kim and I got there, the meeting had started, they were getting food, the music was on and everything was fine. I learned that I'm not in charge. God is. Maybe he just needed me out of the way that morning so he could do his thing.
- - - - -
By the way, Joanne had a running dialogue of her prep for the meeting the day before and then her decision not to come on her blog, if you want the "other side" of the story. I truly, truly think she made the right decision, and am glad she didn't risk it. I just feel badly for all the work you put into the morning that never was, Joanne! Can't wait for next time...
Saturday, December 08, 2007
Casa Bo-need-a-Tums...
If you're not from around here (Colorado), you have NO IDEA what my title means. In fact, sometimes I think I'm so clever (and find I'm the only one) that maybe you're a Colorado native and still met my title with a blank stare. I forgive you, although I hope I at least get a courtesy laugh after you hear my explanation.
Well, here's one for the baby book of milestones: our girls experienced Casa Bonita for the first time on Thursday night. (Disclaimer: we tagged along with Gary's college group. This was not our idea.)
For those unfamiliar with the tourist trap that is Casa Bonita, let's just say you don't go there for the food. Got it?
{insert courtesy laugh here}
My sister Abby heard we were going and said, "Enjoy the flavored cardboard, Ang!" And well, it's not far from the truth. I don't have much to say about the whole experience, except that the food was just as bueno as I remembered. The sopaipillas are the only thing that redeemed our meal for us, and yet, Emma wouldn't even try it. Is that any reflection of the trust she lost while consuming her entree? Come on, Casa Bonita. Even a four year old with (in)discriminating taste knew better than to move on and try dessert. And you lost her at "chicken fingers!" Unheard of! (She really missed out... those sopaipillas were good. Oh, and when I first typed sopapaillas I misspelled it and my auto-dictionary recommended "capillaries." Wow. Now that would have made for an interesting dessert.)
I'll let pictures tell the story of our evening. And next time you're going to Casa Bonita and you think to invite me, just remember that I probably have to sort my paperclips that night or catch up on my dictionary reading. Or something. Anything.
Addie LOVED the capillaries.
BAD picture, but both girls were into the bad guy (Black Bart) vs. good guy show. Sorry, all you Casa Bonita fans, I missed getting a picture of the giant fake gorilla.
Ooooo... the fire juggler. After this he dove into the water with the fire, which Emma informed me was dangerous.
And now... the backside of water! (That's a little Jungle Cruise humor... anyone?)
Here's Emma waiting for the puppet show... that we missed.
There's Gary and Addie down there!
Awww. You can see how happy the girls are.
Do you see Gary back there trying to distract the diver? I didn't even know he was in the picture until later. Silly boy.
There was mariachi music too. I think I really captured it.
Picture I didn't get: Emma and Addie being scared in Black Bart's cave... a little too scary for them. Plus, the girl behind Gary was a tad bit inebriated, and we later saw her being kicked out of the restaurant and running through the parking lot.
The best part of the whole night is that Gary came away with 8 or 9 tickets from the arcade, and the girls thought those were their prize. They were thrilled! So the next day, they were happy to give me a ticket for juice in the morning, a ticket for a bagel, and a piggy back ride cost 2 tickets. We had so much fun! They could earn their tickets back to reuse if they were good. So Casa Bonita wasn't a bust after all! Thank you, Casa Bonita, for supplying me with golden tickets!
Well, here's one for the baby book of milestones: our girls experienced Casa Bonita for the first time on Thursday night. (Disclaimer: we tagged along with Gary's college group. This was not our idea.)
For those unfamiliar with the tourist trap that is Casa Bonita, let's just say you don't go there for the food. Got it?
{insert courtesy laugh here}
My sister Abby heard we were going and said, "Enjoy the flavored cardboard, Ang!" And well, it's not far from the truth. I don't have much to say about the whole experience, except that the food was just as bueno as I remembered. The sopaipillas are the only thing that redeemed our meal for us, and yet, Emma wouldn't even try it. Is that any reflection of the trust she lost while consuming her entree? Come on, Casa Bonita. Even a four year old with (in)discriminating taste knew better than to move on and try dessert. And you lost her at "chicken fingers!" Unheard of! (She really missed out... those sopaipillas were good. Oh, and when I first typed sopapaillas I misspelled it and my auto-dictionary recommended "capillaries." Wow. Now that would have made for an interesting dessert.)
I'll let pictures tell the story of our evening. And next time you're going to Casa Bonita and you think to invite me, just remember that I probably have to sort my paperclips that night or catch up on my dictionary reading. Or something. Anything.
Addie LOVED the capillaries.
BAD picture, but both girls were into the bad guy (Black Bart) vs. good guy show. Sorry, all you Casa Bonita fans, I missed getting a picture of the giant fake gorilla.
Ooooo... the fire juggler. After this he dove into the water with the fire, which Emma informed me was dangerous.
And now... the backside of water! (That's a little Jungle Cruise humor... anyone?)
Here's Emma waiting for the puppet show... that we missed.
There's Gary and Addie down there!
Awww. You can see how happy the girls are.
Do you see Gary back there trying to distract the diver? I didn't even know he was in the picture until later. Silly boy.
There was mariachi music too. I think I really captured it.
Picture I didn't get: Emma and Addie being scared in Black Bart's cave... a little too scary for them. Plus, the girl behind Gary was a tad bit inebriated, and we later saw her being kicked out of the restaurant and running through the parking lot.
The best part of the whole night is that Gary came away with 8 or 9 tickets from the arcade, and the girls thought those were their prize. They were thrilled! So the next day, they were happy to give me a ticket for juice in the morning, a ticket for a bagel, and a piggy back ride cost 2 tickets. We had so much fun! They could earn their tickets back to reuse if they were good. So Casa Bonita wasn't a bust after all! Thank you, Casa Bonita, for supplying me with golden tickets!
Lookin' out for ya!
I just entered to win this awesome prize package from Parents - and I think you should too. It's easy. Just click here and leave a comment to be entered. Even if you don't need all these toys, they'd make great gifts or even make a great contribution to charities who are collecting toys right now.
Also, you should visit my friend Joanne at The Simple Wife, who is giving away some cute little zippy purses.
Come on. You know you can't resist free stuff!
Also, you should visit my friend Joanne at The Simple Wife, who is giving away some cute little zippy purses.
Come on. You know you can't resist free stuff!
Thursday, December 06, 2007
For the birds
There are two things to share with you that in my opinion, are for the birds.
First, are these candy canes:
They might taste good, but here's what they do:
Yes, it's funny, and I expected all of the looks and laughs the girls got when we went to Target, candy canes in hand yesterday. What I didn't expect was the amazing, technicolor diaper this morning:
Ha, ha! Scared you, didn't I? Well, don't doubt for a second that I wasn't poised over that diaper, camera in hand. I didn't take a picture in the end (pun intended), but I was so tempted. It was the most vivid green I've seen in a diaper. We're not talking baby-food-peas-for-lunch green, we're talking Grinch green. What's worse? Her rear was stained a nice shade of aqua. Again, I had the camera in my hand, but thought better than to take a picture of her colorful caboose. So unless you're up for the blue tongues (which the girls loved, mom didn't), these candy canes are for the birds.
Also for the birds... today's craft project. In a moment of feeling crafty, I had the idea to make a garland to put on our trees outside. The girls LOVED it! We created an assembly line, and they got to pick which items they'd push down the string. We had bowls of popcorn, raisins, cheerios, and cranberries to choose from. The girls loved pushing their train all the way to the end, and coming around the table to get back "in line."
When we were done, we put it in a tree in the front yard, and they're VERY excited to see if the birds eat it. I told them it's our Christmas present to the birds.
It was a success, and we'll definitely do it again whether the birds eat it or not. So this project is literally... for the birds. And we loved it!
First, are these candy canes:
They might taste good, but here's what they do:
Yes, it's funny, and I expected all of the looks and laughs the girls got when we went to Target, candy canes in hand yesterday. What I didn't expect was the amazing, technicolor diaper this morning:
Ha, ha! Scared you, didn't I? Well, don't doubt for a second that I wasn't poised over that diaper, camera in hand. I didn't take a picture in the end (pun intended), but I was so tempted. It was the most vivid green I've seen in a diaper. We're not talking baby-food-peas-for-lunch green, we're talking Grinch green. What's worse? Her rear was stained a nice shade of aqua. Again, I had the camera in my hand, but thought better than to take a picture of her colorful caboose. So unless you're up for the blue tongues (which the girls loved, mom didn't), these candy canes are for the birds.
Also for the birds... today's craft project. In a moment of feeling crafty, I had the idea to make a garland to put on our trees outside. The girls LOVED it! We created an assembly line, and they got to pick which items they'd push down the string. We had bowls of popcorn, raisins, cheerios, and cranberries to choose from. The girls loved pushing their train all the way to the end, and coming around the table to get back "in line."
When we were done, we put it in a tree in the front yard, and they're VERY excited to see if the birds eat it. I told them it's our Christmas present to the birds.
It was a success, and we'll definitely do it again whether the birds eat it or not. So this project is literally... for the birds. And we loved it!
Monday, December 03, 2007
Missing Joshua
Today - tonight - I'm really missing Joshua.
I don't know if it's because I'm cold and I know how quickly those tiny bodies warm you up, whether they're still inside or snuggled up on your chest.
Maybe it's because today would've marked one month exactly until my due date. I'm sort of dreading January 3rd.
Or maybe it's because when I look around me and see Christmas all around my house, I feel the sting of how different things would've been right now. Actually, Christmas would likely not have been up yet. Or it might've been "in process" for a week or more. But just the other day I got the house all decorated in one fell swoop, probably because I didn't have a swollen belly limiting my mobility. When I stood balancing on the arm of the couch to decorate the tip-top of the tree, I could feel the betrayal of what should have been. I hung up the stockings in their normal places, but this year, the gap in the middle seemed awfully big. I had planned to get Joshua a stocking in case he arrived early, but instead four stockings dangle there. I fought back tears as I hauled all the boxes back downstairs, knowing it would've been Gary's job. My neighbor is due just 2 days before I was and came over while I was hanging garland outside. She said her husband won't let her decorate for Christmas, and like a dummy, I asked why. She's too pregnant. Of course. I couldn't fight the tears, and I think she felt bad, but I was supposed to be too pregnant also. (Um, although I would've decorated to the hilt anyway!)
I sat down at the computer tonight to do a few MOPS things, and before I knew it, I was sifting through emails I received in the days after we learned the news that our baby had died. I don't actually know how long I was reading them before I realized what I was doing. It wasn't until I couldn't read for the tears blurring my vision that I snapped to it and came back to the present. I could read them over and over again though, partly because I'm so touched - still - by how much love we received by our friends and family, and partly because I feel like it's all I have of him - my baby boy. It just still seems so unfair. I have pictures, footprints, handprints, and MY hospital bracelet (he didn't even get one and I just wish he and Gary would have), but those letters and emails from friends is often what affirms to me that this DID happen. It happened to us. We didn't read about it, we went through it. I know that sounds dumb and like I must be losing my mind to even need to type that out, but sometimes it truly feels like I just heard about it happening to someone else or read it in the paper or saw it on the news... when that isn't the case.
Emma was teasing Addie today with the crust from her peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and I told her that she just CAN'T do that because Addie is allergic to peanut butter and it's dangerous for her. With the "why" that followed, I explained that Addie could get a bad rash, or make it hard for her to breathe. Well, Emma's smart, and said, "If she stops breathing, she will die! I don't want Addie to die!" I quickly eased her panic and said she won't, that we just need to be careful. She said, "Joshua died already and I don't want Addie to die too. But if she does then she can be with Joshua." I'm not sure if that was supposed to make me feel any better (!), but I just reassured her that Addie isn't going to die. And then I tried not to cry.
I don't feel sad for Joshua, in fact, I'm a little jealous. His little life sure has changed my perspective on heaven, that's for sure. Instead, I'm sad for me and for Gary and my girls, that we never got to know our little Joshua. Someday, baby boy, someday...
- - - - -
Glory Baby, by Watermark
I don't know if it's because I'm cold and I know how quickly those tiny bodies warm you up, whether they're still inside or snuggled up on your chest.
Maybe it's because today would've marked one month exactly until my due date. I'm sort of dreading January 3rd.
Or maybe it's because when I look around me and see Christmas all around my house, I feel the sting of how different things would've been right now. Actually, Christmas would likely not have been up yet. Or it might've been "in process" for a week or more. But just the other day I got the house all decorated in one fell swoop, probably because I didn't have a swollen belly limiting my mobility. When I stood balancing on the arm of the couch to decorate the tip-top of the tree, I could feel the betrayal of what should have been. I hung up the stockings in their normal places, but this year, the gap in the middle seemed awfully big. I had planned to get Joshua a stocking in case he arrived early, but instead four stockings dangle there. I fought back tears as I hauled all the boxes back downstairs, knowing it would've been Gary's job. My neighbor is due just 2 days before I was and came over while I was hanging garland outside. She said her husband won't let her decorate for Christmas, and like a dummy, I asked why. She's too pregnant. Of course. I couldn't fight the tears, and I think she felt bad, but I was supposed to be too pregnant also. (Um, although I would've decorated to the hilt anyway!)
I sat down at the computer tonight to do a few MOPS things, and before I knew it, I was sifting through emails I received in the days after we learned the news that our baby had died. I don't actually know how long I was reading them before I realized what I was doing. It wasn't until I couldn't read for the tears blurring my vision that I snapped to it and came back to the present. I could read them over and over again though, partly because I'm so touched - still - by how much love we received by our friends and family, and partly because I feel like it's all I have of him - my baby boy. It just still seems so unfair. I have pictures, footprints, handprints, and MY hospital bracelet (he didn't even get one and I just wish he and Gary would have), but those letters and emails from friends is often what affirms to me that this DID happen. It happened to us. We didn't read about it, we went through it. I know that sounds dumb and like I must be losing my mind to even need to type that out, but sometimes it truly feels like I just heard about it happening to someone else or read it in the paper or saw it on the news... when that isn't the case.
Emma was teasing Addie today with the crust from her peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and I told her that she just CAN'T do that because Addie is allergic to peanut butter and it's dangerous for her. With the "why" that followed, I explained that Addie could get a bad rash, or make it hard for her to breathe. Well, Emma's smart, and said, "If she stops breathing, she will die! I don't want Addie to die!" I quickly eased her panic and said she won't, that we just need to be careful. She said, "Joshua died already and I don't want Addie to die too. But if she does then she can be with Joshua." I'm not sure if that was supposed to make me feel any better (!), but I just reassured her that Addie isn't going to die. And then I tried not to cry.
I don't feel sad for Joshua, in fact, I'm a little jealous. His little life sure has changed my perspective on heaven, that's for sure. Instead, I'm sad for me and for Gary and my girls, that we never got to know our little Joshua. Someday, baby boy, someday...
- - - - -
Glory Baby, by Watermark
Glory baby you slipped away as fast as we could say baby…baby..
You were growing, what happened dear?
You disappeared on us baby…baby..
Heaven will hold you before we do
Heaven will keep you safe until we’re home with you…
Until we’re home with you…
Miss you everyday
Miss you in every way
But we know there’s a
day when we will hold you
We will hold you
You’ll kiss our tears away
When we’re home to stay
Can’t wait for the day when we will see you
We will see you
But baby let sweet Jesus hold you
‘till mom and dad can hold you…
You’ll just have heaven before we do
You’ll just have heaven before we do
Sweet little babies, it’s hard to
understand it ‘cause we’re hurting
We are hurting
But there is healing
And we know we’re stronger people through the growing
And in knowing-
That all things work together for our good
And God works His purposes just like He said He would…
Just like He said He would…
BRIDGE:
I can’t imagine heaven’s lullabies
and what they must sound like
But I will rest in knowing, heaven is your home
And it’s all you’ll ever know…all you’ll ever know…
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