What's There to Forgive?

I had another doctor appointment today at my current office.  That will be my last one there and the next one will be up in Maine.  Asa will be here in no time...

I was a little caught of guard by a couple of conversations there today - oh, how I miss the days when a routine check-up was just that....routine.  It seems nothing is that simple anymore.

So, my nurse is typing into the computer that I will be changing to Maine Med to have a VBAC and, while still looking at the screen, she asks "Where will your baby go?"

I fell silent for a few seconds, trying to figure out what she meant....
"Ummm.... what do you mean?"
"Where will he go when he's born?" she asked as if it was a simple question.

The first thing that came to my mind was "heaven".  I didn't say it, but the fact that it came as a possible answer showed me just how deeply I have been affected by my baby's death.  Even if the question didn't make sense, I don't believe "heaven" would be a consideration for most people when being asked where their newborn baby will go. 

After I received Rachel's diagnosis, the doctor I was seeing from the hospital in Rochester told me they wouldn't even deliver me because there wasn't a pediatrician around that would accept an anencephalic baby. She even called one while I was in her office, hung up with him and said to me "that's just as I thought, nobody will take her as a patient".  She told me if I came there in labor, that the baby would have to be transported somewhere else and I wouldn't be able to go with her because insurance wouldn't cover it.  Basically, she was trying to scare me into an abortion.  But when this nurse asked me where my baby was going to go, I immediately thought she meant either in death, or that he would be sent to a different hospital without me. I sat there without responding because I had no idea what to say....I was wishing I could ask for multiple choice. 

"ummm.... you mean in the hospital?" I asked.
"where will he go for care?" she repeated, and when I didn't respond again, she clarified...
"after he's born, do you have a pediatrician?"

wow... I can't believe a simple question like that could be so complicated....but I'm glad we have an answer. "Yes, he will go to the same doctor the others do" I said relieved.  I figured that would be the most awkward part of my appt until the doctor came in.

He had me lay down and as he measured my belly, he asked me
"You've forgiven yourself for having an anencephalic baby, right?"

Huh??  Totally confused.  I have met with this doctor a few times and I really like him....but what?! 

I said "ummm...." he interrupted me and said "you know you had nothing to do with that, right? It's not your fault." 
"oh, yeah...I don't think that."

I wanted to tell him all about God's bigger plan and how there was nothing to 'forgive' myself for because Rachel wasn't as bad as some might think...and actually, she was better than most would understand.  But I didn't think anything I said was going to be heard and before I had a chance to try, he interrupted again and said:

"You did more for that baby than anyone I know would have and you should be very proud of yourself... and I hope your husband is proud of you, too"

"sigh" is all I could do.  I was teetering between defensiveness for Rachel and appreciation that he was recognizing how hard it was for me as her mom.  I didn't want to accept the compliment at the risk of insinuating that she was a burden.  And yet, it was nice to hear that someone noticed my devotion to her.  So I just said nothing.

He told me they expect to see a picture of Asa after he's born and the nurse gave me a hug.  I know they haven't said everything "right" but they have shown their support to me and I believe that Rachel has left her little foot print on their hearts too, even through her little brother's prenatal check-ups :o)  I did mention she is amazing, didn't I?

On the way home, I thought about his question...did I blame myself at all?  The truth is yes, I've had those moments.  I've wondered if I would have done something different if she could have been sitting here with me today.  I've questioned if it was the antibiotic I was on for a couple of days when I found out I was pregnant... I've wondered if I would have suffered through that sinus infection, would my daughter still be alive?  I've wondered if it was the fact that I had been really sick for a couple of months just 2 months earlier and my body wasn't ready for her.  But I always come back to the fact that God has control over everything.

He had control over my sickness and what that meant for welcoming a baby into my womb.
He could have stopped me from getting pregnant. 
He could have protected me from that sinus infection, or made getting an appt that day impossible. 
He could have kept her safe from it, if that was dangerous for her.
He could have changed it all.  But maybe, it had nothing to do with any of that.
Maybe, just maybe, this wasn't a 'bad' thing to try to find an answer for or to wish away.
But instead an indescribable blessing,
one in which God himself destined it to be for my good and His glory.

Maybe it was the thing that would keep me from walking away from my God
at a time when my faith was so low.
Maybe she was who would teach me about his love.
Maybe her short life taught me how to trust Him like never before.
Maybe she would bring people into his kingdom
Maybe as her mother I would have the blessing of encouraging THOUSANDS of people.
Maybe she would make me stronger, wiser, more compassionate, a better mother.
Maybe on the 26th day of my pregnancy, when her neural tube failed to close before I ever even bought a pregnancy test, maybe my body was just perfect for her and yet God chose to form her that way.
And Maybe all this pain and all this sorrow - and everything I have sacrificed for her - is making me more like Jesus.

And so knowing what I know about the last year and a half and what I've learned about my God and life along the way...  Do I blame myself?  Do I think I failed her?  Do I think I could have changed it?

Nope.  It was up to God.

So that begs the question... Well then, do I blame God?  Do I think he failed me?  Do I think he failed her? 

I can honestly say that I don't believe God wants any of this.  He didn't put me through this to make a point.  Death happens because of the sin in the world and God hates sin.  I know that God could have changed this all.  And yet, the fact that he didn't only made him more real and loving to me.

You may be thinking that makes no sense.  Well, if you walked the last year and a half in my shoes, you would have felt a love deeper, higher, longer, wider than any love you've ever experienced.  True, unconditional and undefiled love.  Not what we consider love in our earthly sense. You would have felt a strong, compassionate God sweep in and pick you up.  You would have felt him carry you along, helping you put one foot in front of the other through the most horrible times in your life and at the same time filling your heart with love, peace, contentment and joy.  You would have felt your heart cradled in the hands of the maker of the universe, even as you held your womb and sobbed. You would have felt the assurance of heaven and the death of Jesus on that cross and fallen to your knees in awe and thanksgiving as you prepared your baby's body for the grave.  You would have praised God with complete trust in his plan, knowing more than ever before how REAL and how AWESOME he is.  And as your trial continued for days, weeks, months and years to come - and you were the only one still crying - you were the only one still remembering anniversaries - you were the only one still filled with sorrow over your loss - you were the only one who struggled to move on without her..... You would know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you are not alone.  And if there is One who loves her more, it's Him. 

And so maybe, she was just perfect. 
Maybe my role as her mother was just different than that of my other children.
Maybe I can't watch her grow, but instead will see God's kingdom grow because of her for years to come.
Maybe my crown in heaven will be more beautiful because of her.
And maybe, even through all the pain and tears and ongoing struggle...maybe my life is more beautiful than it ever could have been otherwise.

What's there to forgive?

Now all of you who are reading this on your phone or have the volume turned off on your computer... and I know you do... humor me for a couple of minutes and refresh your screen and listen to the song I put on tonight.  Think about whatever your trial is right now, and we all have them... and know that God has not forgotten you.  You cannot fathom His love for you. 

Ephesians 3:17-18

Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong. And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is.

Thank You Lord for choosing me as Rachel's Mama

It's OK to Hurt

Yesterday morning I felt pretty good. I even put on my eye liner thinking I was all cried out from the night before and not feeling the least bit emotional. At church, we sang a song that has a verse from the bible that says "Oh death, where is your sting? Oh hell, where is your victory?" (1Cor. 15:55) and I felt kind of like a little kid, sticking out my tongue as I thought... take that satan!  My God defeated you... you've got nothing on Him. Jesus overcame the grave!  I smiled at the victory that gives me assurance that my sweet girl isn't stuck in that grave - and that I won't be either.

And then it happened.

Word of God Speak came on.... the song that was playing when Rachel was born. I was crying pretty hard, but was still trying to keep my makeup in place with a tissue. Through one of the parts without lyrics, they had words appearing on the screen.... "Rescued.... Reborn.... Chosen.... Wonderfully Made...."

The tears flowed harder because I know that Rachel was reborn and that her & I were chosen before the foundations of the world to walk this path together... but when I saw 'Wonderfully Made', I couldn't help but think of a gift I was given the day before from my friend Anne. She sells these shirts to raise money for her daughter Rose's Memorial fund and then blesses people continuously in Rose's memory. (where I got my grocery gift card the other day!)  I was the grateful recipient of one of Rose's shirts at Asa's shower - wish these pics were better, they're uploaded from facebook :o(
(I have a link to her site on the side of my blog if you wanna order one!)

As the song ended, I breathed out, thankful that I didn't have a complete meltdown. I was pretty sure I was not looking so pretty anymore, but I wasn't a total mess.... until the next song came on...

We Still Believe.  It was one of the songs from Rachel's funeral (I used it on her funeral video) and that was it. I didn't just cry, I sobbed. I was out of breath, my stomach was turning and my head was POUNDING by the time this song was over. With my hands held high to my Lord, just like at Rachel's service, I offered up my "yes" again to my God. I still believe. I still surrender in my heart, knowing His faithfulness is my reward... and oh, how faithful is He...

But my heart broke all over again for my girl. And as my tears washed all my make up down my face (gave up on the tissues by this point) and covered my big Asa belly, my body shaking and jolting from crying so hard... It dawned on me (again) that the pain of losing a child is unparalleled and that this is always going to be a part of me now. A piece of me was ripped from my arms and I will always feel that emptiness - even after my arms are filled with another baby.

Now look, I'm not trying to say that Asa won't bring me joy. He is a gift from God and I know I won't be able to get enough of this little man and that my joy over him could very well even be magnified because of all I have been through with Rachel.  I'm not trying to be dramatic or to hang in self pity in order to not leave Rachel in the past. If you've lost a baby or a child, I'm sure you know what I'm trying to say. It just never goes away.   I can't choose to "think positively" or just "focus on the future" and then it won't hurt so much.  It doesn't hurt more if I'm having a "bad day" or less if I'm having a "good day".  It's consistently the most heart wrenching pain I have ever felt and it doesn't let up for long at a time.  I honestly had no idea that I would still be crying this hard over 10 months after Rachel's death.  I don't feel as deep in sorrow as I did in month 1...2 or even 6... but when those moments come and I think about my baby dying, my heart aches as if she died yesterday - as if I was standing at her funeral service all over again.  As if I just saw the hospital door shut as the funeral home left my room with her and I couldn't go.  Actually, some of these current days are harder because I was still in shock then - and I'm alone a lot more now because most people around me don't understand that losing your child isn't continuously 'better' a little at a time until you're all healed, as with many other losses.  It's ups and downs for the rest of your life.  That's the part that gets me.... it's such a long road.

I shook my head wishing it wasn't true and long after worship was over, I was still crying on Matt's shoulder throughout the sermon. I was debating if I should just leave I was such a mess. But I figured, if I'm going to cry... might as well be at church. I can usually find words for people when they come up to me and ask if I'm ok. But this time, I had nothing.  I had no energy to try to make other people feel comfortable or to try to help them understand what was going through my mind.  All I could say was "it just doesn't let up. I miss her" (oh, and I did ask if I had any boogers hanging out of my nose - you know, just making sure I'm not walking around snot-faced)

And even through this pain, I know that God was speaking to my heart... Her birthday song and her funeral song; one after another...10 months to the day after she was buried.... she was wonderfully made, chosen, reborn and rescued. He has been in it all and He will be with me through it all. And it's okay if I'm not 'emotionally ready' for the next stage of this journey... I don't have to be. God's ready. I don't have to walk around with my head high and feel only the joy of my new baby. I don't have to hide my tears or prove my faith in God by pretending I don't have feelings. I don't have to feel guilty over not putting all my focus on Asa... or on Rachel.  It is ok to be exactly as I am.  A mother with a broken heart.  I wouldn't be proving anything to pretend I'm anything else.  God knows I trust Him and His plan.  And He's also okay with me acknowledging that it hurts.  And that it does.... if "hurts" even comes close to describing it. 

Ready As I'll Ever Be

Yesterday was the big day for Asa's baby shower.  I was cleaning up in the morning and after just a handful of tasks, I was in tears because I was in pain.  It wasn't the pain that was making me cry, but rather the fact that I'm just worn out with the pain.  The pain is bearable, but I just need a break from it.  "It's been a long year"  I heard myself say out loud as I got out of the shower already exhausted.  I feel pretty ready for Asa's arrival...physically.

Our celebration was beautiful.  It was at the same place as Rachel's and I loved it.  We had daisies with a sunflower on each table (when we found out we were having a boy, Matt brought a bouquet like that home for me saying it was a "son" flower, but remembering Rachel too)  And Lyndt chocolates with daisies and sunflowers on them, too! 

Cyndie brought the kids shopping with her to pick out the decorations and had them involved in all the details.  They made the little ducky chocolates and helped her set up.  They were SO excited to be throwing Mama a party and that they got to pick the theme!  Cyndie made Asa a shirt and Rachel a crown and set up a table in the middle.  (Photo edited by Lisa B!! Thanks, Lisa!)  I knew this was coming (all except the crown) and yet when I looked at it, I started crying.  It's so hard to believe she's not here sometimes...

♥ Isn't she sweet? ♥

While we were eating, Isaiah said "Rachel is here and she's wearing a crown" - Matt & I both looked at each other and smiled... "She is wearing a crown"  I said to him....I bet it's beautiful.  Matt told him, "Rachel's crown in heaven is even prettier than that one"

The cake was gorgeous and was even more delicious!  And yes, the ducky is edible!  Sam managed to get a taste and we got him some Zyrtec quick enough that there was no allergic reaction, Thank You Lord!  But can you blame him for wanting some?!  The bottom is chocolate and caramel, by the way! :o)

The first gift I opened was from my mom & sister and it had a card from my niece in it.  My biggest struggle in making the decision to have a VBAC was obviously the risk it holds for Asa.  If anything happened to him because of a decision I made, I would die.  Seriously.  Just like most Mamas, I would do anything for my kids - and I would do anything to protect them.  So this has been a really difficult decision for me, and although I feel it's the right one, I'm still scared.  I opened the card from my niece and it said "God will keep you safe Asa" and had his name in a heart.  I wasn't expecting to get that emotional that early into the gifts, but I felt like God had just confirmed for me that he was with me in this and that Asa is going to be safe....out of the mouths of babes...  There were a few more times I teared up, just in unbelief that Asa might actually come home with me.  And I was so blessed by how many people still included Rachel. ♥

We tried really hard to get a good family photo... it's really hard to get everyone to look at the same time.  Rachel & I were the only ones who cooperated :o)  I bet she would have been unbelievably cute!  I wish I had another smile running around here to try to catch... I almost want to share all the others so you can see what we went through to get this ONE pic where the kids aren't even paying attention! (but at least their heads are all upright!



I can honestly say that when I met this man 10 years ago, I had no idea we would eventually have 5 children...and counting... together.  Oh my gosh, as I wrote that I realized that was a little too Dugger-ish.  I'm NOT having 20 kids! (I don't think!)


Matt is just as difficult to get to behave while taking pictures as the kids!  And so just to show you a glimpse of what the 6 pictures before this one looked like - and maybe teach him a lesson - I'm posting this one too...



Not a very good pic of me, but it's a good one of my belly!
6 weeks to go??  Seriously?

I felt very loved and we were blessed to get a good amount of things we needed.  We only have a couple things on our 'still needed' list and so I feel pretty ready for Asa's arrival...materially.

But I got home and started putting things away and trying to pack his bag for the hospital and I started crying and couldn't stop.  It seemed every time I turned around, I would start crying again.  I kept working through my tasks and finally finished up and went down to eat dinner at around 7:45.  As I heated my dinner up and started crying AGAIN, all I could think was that I'm ready physically... I'm ready materially... but I am not ready emotionally...  and I'm not sure I ever will be - so I guess that makes me 'ready as I'll ever be'.

Thank you to everyone who came to celebrate with us (even if you only stayed a minute!).  This shower was not just any baby shower, as you probably know... It has taken me many months to come to a point where I'm finally getting excited to have another baby.  I have been allowing myself the time and freedom to feel however I feel... but as Asa's arrival got closer, I started to get nervous that I was going to fall apart holding a new baby alive. (I still might)  But, it is these times, where we celebrate Asa and remember Rachel, that are huge in helping me towards finding that balance and I won't forget those of you who did this with me at my own pace.  Thank you so much.  And thank you to Cyndie and my beautiful children for all your hard work planning this special day and to Mom & Meg for helping with the food - and sending me home with leftovers :o)

A Long List of Thank You's

Can I just brag about my amazing friends for a minute??  I have been so blessed by so many people lately.  I'm leery to even try to tell you about it all cause I'm afraid I'll forget something or someone!  I'll start with the meals.... food has shown up on my doorstep a few times and this past week, it came with flowers and caramel apples (Rachel's favorite food was caramel and this friend brought us some last year for Rachel too!).

My friend Cyndie, who started out as a blog reader after seeing one of Rachel's articles in the paper,  has brought us dinner, ingredients for smoothies (our latest family fave) and has been working her tail off getting ready for a baby shower she and my kids are throwing for me & Asa.  A couple days ago I got a card from my dad with money to use for Asa and today, my first baby shower gift from my registry!!  I opened the door to find a big Diapers.com box and ....well you know how much I LOVE packages! :o)  I got one of the cloth diapers we use, a pack of the liners and I was SO excited to see that I got a bag I registered for.  I really just put that on there as a 'wishful thinking' item and didn't really think I'd get it.  It's the nicest diaper bag I've ever had :o)  Sorry, I'm easily excited!  Packing a baby in style...fun!  And since I'm going to be extremely overweight when I give birth to this big boy, I'm going to really appreciate having something I can wear that isn't too tight and uncomfortable!  I know, you all think I'm "all belly" but trust me, my baby doesn't weigh 200 pounds!  Yes, I said it....  I'm 5'5" and 200 pounds with 6 weeks to go...  but a cute bag, huh? :o)

I've also been reminded this week by a bunch of people through emails and cards that me & my girl aren't forgotten.  It's a hard time of year... getting ready for Asa around the same time I was getting ready for Rachel.  His shower is the week before hers was last year and this cooler weather really reminds me of the time I had with her, knowing she would die.  As I get bigger and I'm feeling the aches and pains that come along with the last few weeks of pregnancy, I can't help but think about how much of a struggle my pregnancy with Rachel was physically, which of course only reminds me that she's gone.  It's such a blessing for me to feel remembered right now (and as her first birthday approaches) especially.

Then yesterday, a friend came by with two scrapbook pages she made for Rachel's book and a chocolate cake!  AND I received an answered prayer on my answering machine from a friend who offered to help with our finances if I have Asa during the week so that Matt can be with me at the hospital and money doesn't determine our decisions around that time. Then today I got a grocery gift card from the Rose J. Alix Memorial Fund. 

And I'd be leaving out my main player if I didn't tell you about my husband... for a while, I struggled with the fact that this grieving thing was so different for him and that the only other person on the face of the planet that could love Rachel as much as me, couldn't cause he didn't know her like me.  It was lonely to put it mildly.  Lately though, he has talked of her more, remembered her more and been even more understanding and protective of my heart as her mother.  And since my friend Lisa has been editing some of our pictures of Rachel, I have a new one of Matt & Rachel that is precious...

I wish she could have enjoyed Daddy's shoulder more...it's one of my favorite places too.

I was telling Matt last night that I hate that I've needed peoples' help for so long... that my floor has dirt literally built up on it and I'm not capable of getting it off  (except in the spots where the chairs' feet rub and leave lines all over the floor! ugh) cause I can't even bend over.  That I still need help with meals... that we need help financially.  And it was as I said it that I realized that God is teaching me a very gentle lesson about putting pride aside and not finding my worth in what I can do or what I have.  I used to stress over a spotless house and think that success was measured in things like money, careers and being able to 'do it all' myself. (which never proves to make anyone happy, never mind fulfilled or joyful) This past 13 months, I have been carried along physically by all of you while He has carried my heart.  He could have let me fend for myself as I have learned these lessons.  But He hasn't.  He has provided for our every single need the entire journey.  He always provides....it's trusting Him to and letting Him that I need to get better at.  Someone told me the other day at the kids' gym class while I was fretting over the details of Asa's birth "If you have a hold of it, God can't... you have to give it to him."  I immediately knew she was right and felt a shift in my heart.  I came home to blessings from 3 of my sisters in Christ... a meal, a cake, scrapbook pages and the message about helping us financially for Asa's birth.  such a 'coincidence'!


Thank you all for loving me/us so much and for giving and providing for us for so long.  It's in your acts of service and love that I learn more each day about how amazing our God is. You are such a blessing to me!
 

1John 3:18

Dear children, let's not merely say that we love each other; let us show the truth by our actions

 

43

I just read my pregnancy ticker...."43 days to go"

Seems like that number can only rightly belong to one person.  I seem to notice it everywhere - it sticks out at me almost daily in one form or another.  I see it on the clock, on facebook posts, on lockers at the fitness center, in the amount due at the register....  I see it on so many things that have to do with Rachel and I feel like she owns that number.

I'm going to admit that, while I initially determined to make the number a positive thing,  it's not big enough for my liking.  I was so devoted to making sure that when someone heard that she lived for 43 minutes that they smiled and not frowned (including myself) that I did stuff like added "beautiful and unforgettable" after it and smiled as I talked of her life in minutes - as apposed to the years, days or even hours that I had hoped for.

I'm going to admit something I haven't said to many people - those 43 minutes were the hardest minutes of my life.  Beautiful?  Yes.  She was alive and God was more present than I have ever experienced before, or since, in my life.  Unforgettable?  Yes.  I remember every second like it was an eternity.  The way the OR smells and the bright lights.  The sounds of machines beeping, the music playing in the background, the soft chatter of the doctors and nurses as they stitched me up - What was supposed to be a 'quick' trip to the table to get suctioned and a hat on had gone on way longer than it should have - and then the words....

"She's not making an attempt to breathe on her own.  Do you want us to keep trying or bring her to you?"

And I had to decide something no mother should ever have to decide... Keep her alive over there...or let her die in my arms.  Sometimes I feel selfish as I remember the words I said, "Bring her to me."   And yet I know that the real reason behind it was not because I wanted her, but because of what I wanted for her.  I didn't want her to die with them....people who didn't know her, who didn't love her.   My next sentence was, "I don't want her to die over there." 

By the time I held her, she was still.  Her heart still beating strong (I told you she had a strong heart, didn't I?) but she was not taking in breath and she wasn't moving.  Her heart beat for an amazing amount of time without any breath.

While I was covered with unsurpassable peace that can only come from a true relationship with Jesus, I was still waiting out her last heartbeat, knowing it would only be minutes longer.  I kept her close, looked at all the details that were so perfectly created in my womb...her chubby hands and cute little toes... and kissed her.  As she turned more and more blue, I told her I was sorry and how hard I tried and how much Jesus loved her.  And that was all I could say.  I had waited so long to tell her all I wanted her to know - and I was at a loss for words. 

The lyrics on the radio echo in my mind.... "To be still and know, that You're in this place, please let me stay and rest, in Your holiness, Word of God speak...."

But when those 43 minutes were up, she knew it all better than I could say it.  Her life and death went nothing like I had hoped.  I would be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed and let down.  I almost immediately questioned if I should have bothered having a c-section.  But I know I gave her my all and I have no regrets.  I know she felt my love.  I know that at 10:27am on December 3, 2010, she was welcomed into this world where she was loved dearly and unconditionally - and that at 11:10 am that same day, she was welcomed into paradise and into the arms of the King of Kings where she is safe and eternally in the presence of our loving Father.

Do I think of her and sigh or cry every time I see the number 43?  Yup.  I can hardly believe she didn't even make it an hour.  Do I think of her and smile every time I see the number 43? Yup.  Because I know her place in heaven was prepared by my Lord for that moment and I know it's better than here.

I'm still smiling for her and crying for me.  And as I count down the next 43 days until I meet my new baby boy, with the expectation of bringing him home from the hospital, (I'm finally starting to believe it will happen!) she is still ever so present in my mind and heart and I wouldn't have it any other way.  I never want to miss a moment to remember her amazing life and her short 43 minutes here.  It was worth every ounce of pain and every single tear. 

If God is collecting my tears in a bottle, when I get to heaven I'm going to ask Him to let them rain down on me as I dance in them with my sweet baby girl and listen to her giggle.  I want to tell her that I would cry every single one of them again for her and for our God.  I want to finally feel only the joy that has come from them and I know God is going to provide that in eternity for me and turn my mourning into dancing.

Psalm 30:11

You have turned my mourning into joyful dancing.

You have taken away my clothes of mourning and clothed me with joy

Psalm 56:8

You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle.

You have recorded each one in your book

10 Months - A Glimpse of God's Faithfulness

I can't believe it's been 10 months.  She would be 10 months old....cute chubby cheeks and pig tails and pulling up on everything. 

I came across a video I made for Sam for his first birthday last night, and as I watched it, I cried and cried.  Life was simple then.  I looked a lot younger and more vibrant.  Smiles weren't hard to come by. Tears were rare.  My children didn't know loss at all and I didn't know the the deepest pain in the world.  I miss the innocence that I had then.... the innocence that was ripped from me on August 4, 2010.  I heard the lyrics on the first song say "my sweet baby, on loan from above..."  I know Rachel was His first, but I couldn't help but wish I got to loan her for longer.

Instead of chasing her around the house and trying to teach her to walk, I'm decorating her grave.  And as much as I hate that, I know this was God's plan.  This isn't a mistake, her life unfolded exactly the way it was supposed to - and I am right where I'm supposed to be, pain and all.  Through these months of constant cemetery visits, I have learned something about my loyalty and devotion - and God's faithfulness.  I guess I always knew those were qualities I possessed, (especially where my children are concerned) but I never knew what a mother's love could do with the Lord's help until this year.  Her playground - her 5K - and my faithfulness to her grave and it's beauty... she has made me a stronger person and given me a glimpse of God's unending love.  If I can love my child, whom I knew such a short time this much,  how much more does God love his children...even the ones who are brand new in his family??  There's no describing it.

We were supposed to go put this stuff up yesterday so that Matt could go with me since I do all the cemetery stuff alone usually.  But yesterday it poured all day long.  We were going to go anyway, but I knew that I would need time to fix it "just right" and standing in the pouring rain wasn't appealing to me since it wasn't even the 3rd.  I decided to wait and see if today was any better.  I was glad to wake up to dreary weather with no rain falling. 

I told the kids we needed to hurry before it started raining again.  When we got in the car, I mentioned that I was glad it wasn't raining yet.  Isaiah told me "I knew it wasn't going to rain and that's why I didn't hurry up"  I said "how do you know it's not raining in Dover?"  and he said that he 'just knew'.  On the way, it started sprinkling and he said "well, I guess I was wrong" (he's so cute)  but up ahead, right about over where the cemetery is, I could see a clearing in the sky....

And sure enough, we got there and it was still free of rain drops.  I set up the things I had prepared for her.  Not sure I'm loving the double sided shepherd's hook....but I have time to change it before the ground freezes.  It's so hard to plan ahead to know what I'll want there for the winter, especially Christmas.  Once the ground freezes, I'm stuck with it!   I should have known that I'm too symmetrical of a person to like something I couldn't center, but I didn't want to cover our name on the back.  With the days getting shorter and the nights getting longer, I wanted her grave to have more light so I got the lantern too.

Isaiah went and picked some dandelions and placed them on her stone... reminding me of the flowers from vacation - some times it's the simple things that mean the most.  Isaiah is such a sweet boy, he's always talking about and doing things for Rachel.  His thoughtfulness makes my heart smile. 

No sooner did he place the flowers down, it started raining!  It was as if that was the switch that turned on the rain.  We got back in the car and within 5 minutes, it was a complete downpour!  The timing was unreal.  It felt like God had held back the rain long enough for us to decorate for Rachel and that was it. 

Sometimes I wish she knew all the love that goes into this spot... and other times, I'm thankful she doesn't.  I'm glad that she is oblivious to the pain and tears on this earth and only concerned with dancing with Jesus.  I'm sure that's way prettier than my flowers anyway.  Some day I'll see.... 

Happy birthday sweet girl.... still thinking of you, missing you, loving you and counting down the days till we see you again....

Jeremiah 31:3
I have loved you with an everlasting love, therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you

Temporarily Suffering, Waiting for Glory

After spending countless days and shedding a million tears in a battle with the frozen ground at the cemetery last year, I promised myself that this year would be different.  I remember standing on my daughter's new grave and looking around at the other beautifully decorated graves around her and thinking "these people knew the ground was going to freeze."

Seems obvious right?  The ground freezes in the winter in NH - not new news... but it had never mattered to me before that moment.  I had things I wanted to stick in the ground to keep her decorations above the snow (which of course we got a TON of last year!) and not only could I not get anything in, but every store around was sold out of shepherd hooks and the ones in my yard were frozen IN.  I tried and tried to get them out...nothing.  I cried and cried some more.  next year I'm going to beat the weather, I thought.

And so last week, while out shopping for a scatter rug for Asa's room, I saw shepherd hooks on sale.  That led to looking for things to hang on it, which left me feeling down.  Everything is expensive....nothing seems good enough... the weather at the cemetery is harsh and takes it's toll fast on things.... where do I find something strong, sturdy, cheap and pretty enough for my girl?  ugh.

I settled on just the hook and decided I would make something - more my style anyway, I like to make things for my kids.  Seemed like a good plan until I stopped on Tuesday night after music lessons to buy some fake flowers.  I went to 2 different stores and finally bought some after close to 2 hours of looking, that I wasn't even all that happy with.  I stayed up late putting it together.  With Rachel's 10 month birthday coming up, I wanted to have this just right so I could bring it down for her day.  It looked alright, but it wasn't functional for a grave because of the shape of the styrofoam I used to hold the flowers.  The wind, rain, snow and direct sun would destroy it in not much time at all.

Yesterday I found a hanging basket on sale that seemed to fix the problem.  I was feeling better.  Until I tried to put it together...  I wondered, how long my heart will break over her grave decor.... will this EVER get easier?  Will I do this my whole life?  I can say that I honestly think I will - I don't see me ever leaving her grave unattended (unless we move to a place far away) and I'm good with that.  I just hope that as time goes on, and I become less 'new' at this, it will get easier...I feel like such a rookie.

Last night, as I sat here staring at the floor discouraged over this, I couldn't stay put.  I decided I was going back out to get what I needed to finish this project.  Matt was assuring me it looked good just as it was, but I hated it and wasn't able to settle for less than she deserves.  So Des & I went out to a couple more stores...at which I bought a few things....and this do-it-myself-to-save-money-and-make-it-prettier project was no longer cheaper or prettier.

Now that it's October, the stores are loaded with Halloween stuff.  Most of you know we don't participate in Halloween, but I decided we'd look through some of the stuff to see if I could find something "fall-ish" that would look cute on Rachel's stone.  Not so much luck... what I did find was a huge scarecrow hanging decoration that said "If I Only Had A Brain."

I just stared at it.... somehow not funny this year.  Most of the things having to do with Halloween got a whole less funny and "harmless" after I had to put my baby's body in a cold dark ground in a cemetery...but that's another subject.  Des was standing at my side telling me of some hair dressing toy she wanted and was oblivious to what was happening to my heart as I stood there - so in an attempt to protect her from the feeling I was having, I just said "let's get out of here".

We went to the register with some fake flowers for Rachel's grave.... as the man put them in the bag, he said to Des...

"looks like somebody is going to have a new baby brother or sister soon"
Des nodded and twirled her hair (she hates these conversations more than I do)
"do you know which it is yet?"
"A brother" she said
"Would you have rather had a sister?" he asked.   He had to ask, didn't he???
"mmm hmmm" she said.
"Is this going to be your only brother?"
"no" and she looked at me for help...
I jumped in and said "she has two brothers and a sister already"
"Oh, a nice big family - I bet your hands are full.  I wish we would have had more, but we only had one and now she's all grown up and off to college"
"It goes by fast" I responded as I grabbed my fake flowers for the girl I only got to spend 43 mins with before sending her off to a place much further away (yet, safer) than college....just wishing I could have seen that day...

As we walked out, I looked at Des and said "those questions are hard to answer, huh?"  she nodded and we headed home.   I walked in the door, after spending another $13 on more flowers and stuff (so much for saving money), to find that the one I had already made didn't look as horrible as I remembered (an hour before!!).  I took one look at them and started crying.  "I feel like a psycho" I said to Matt.  He just hugged me and said "It's okay, you want her to have pretty flowers, that's all."

Too bad something so simple feels so heavy and so complicated.  Really what I want is to not have to decorate a grave at all - and especially not in preparation for a long, cold winter.... a first birthday without her here...another Christmas... an empty stocking...trying to keep her tree on her grave lit up for Christmas morning.... my other kids' birthdays, including Asa's.... jumping in leaves....sledding, building forts, and hot chocolate.... I wish I could have kept her.  I wish I could love her here.

There is a hole in my heart that can never be filled by anyone else.  It is there only for my 4th child.... and no matter how pretty I can make her grave, it's not going to make that hole any smaller.  No matter how many other children we have here or welcome into our family, it's not going anywhere.  Time isn't filling it in. It's been almost 10 months since I held her - a lifetime of missing her and battling a cemetery to go....

But thankfully, My Lord has conquered the grave and this is all temporary - no matter how permanent it feels.

2 Corinthians 4:17-18

For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far
outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen.

For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.

Romans 8: 11 & 16-17
And if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies because of his Spirit who lives in you...... ¹⁶ The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children. Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory.

Moment #6: The Restaurant



we take a pic in front of this sign each year, too!



We have gone to this same little restaurant every year we've been to Maine.  It's called Family Traditions and it's one of our family's traditions!  We have had the same waitress each year and she knows us now.  She remembered Rachel from last year, which was good for my heart.  I love a chance to talk to people about my girl.

This waitress is very nice and has seen us say grace before meals, but based on conversations we've had, I don't think she is a believer. (although you never know).

She brought us our food and as we prepared to say grace, Matt felt led to ask her if she needed prayer for anything.  She stopped in her tracks and I got all self-conscious.  I thought he had made her uncomfortable and was wondering why he couldn't leave the poor lady alone.  (not very godly, I know, since the best thing we can ever offer anyone is Jesus....)  And the selfish, pregnant human side of me just wanted to eat. (yes, I'm embarrassed to admit this - but that's where I was at)

The woman started crying and said "it's unbelievable that you're asking me this because we just found out that my 11 year old grandson needs heart surgery."  we asked for his name and prayed for him before we ate.  She was so grateful.  I was so humbled.  God was so glorified. 

It never ceases to amaze me the blessings that we receive and are able to give when we just follow the prompting of the Lord.  I just looked at Matt and smiled, knowing that without him and his boldness for the Lord,  I would have missed that opportunity and this scared grandmother would have missed the comfort of knowing that her grandson is not out of God's sight. 

I look forward to continuing our relationship with her... one meal, one year at a time... being able to tell her that we've continued our prayers for her grandson and hopefully one day hearing he was completely healed.

I Think I'm Having a Baby

I'll start with yesterday....  I had an appt at my regular doctor.  I really like this doctor - he actually thinks for himself and treats me like a real person instead of trying to fit me into his textbook mold.  His final opinion on me having a VBAC was "if you were my sister, I'd tell you to go to Maine and have a VBAC."

I left the room and went to use the bathroom before leaving.  The picture on the wall was of a new baby nursing.  I felt myself get excited to actually be able to nurse my baby this time - and then immediately started crying.  I hate that I missed that with my girl.  I hate that I know that there are no guarantees and that even when everything looks okay, it doesn't mean I'll be able to nurse Asa - or bring him home with me.  My excitement actually led to fear... how could I do this again?  I can't wait to hold this baby and hear him cry.  The thought of that moment is overwhelming.

The drive to Maine was strange.  We drove it once or twice a week for months with Rachel, all the while making sure to not miss a kick or twirl.  I smiled and I cried.  Today was like that with Asa.  It was a long day, I left at 9:20 and didn't get home until almost 3pm.  I smiled and I cried.  I did get to stop on the way home and have lunch with one of my blog readers-turned friends today which was really nice.  God has blessed me with so many friendships through this blog.

So, the decision has been made... It's a "go" for a VBAC and I'll be delivering where I had Rachel.  It was nice to see my Dr from Rachel's pregnancy.   It was such a relief to hear him say that he actually thinks a VBAC is a better choice for me, given my delivery history.  And I have peace about it.  I know that this is a "plan" and that if things aren't going well up to the last second, I may have to have a c-section, but I believe it's worth the try.  

This decision comes with some details that worry me....  I'm going to ask you to pray for some specifics and ask for exacts... I know I run the risk of sounding like I think I can tell God what to do and believe me, that is NOT the case.  I learned over the last year to a whole new degree just how powerless I am - and how perfect His plan is.  But I also know that God tells us to "ask for anything in His name and it will be given to us."  Please pray these things with us:

For the timing of my labor...  Matt has no time off and I have to go to the Hospital the minute I know I'm in labor because of the risk associated with VBAC, I cannot labor at home at all.  The drive is over an hour.  Pray that I will go into labor over the weekend, Friday through Sunday, and that Matt will not need to miss any work and that if he does have to, God will provide for us financially.  If I have to be driven by someone else, that Matt will be able to get up to Maine in good timing.

For a safe delivery for me and for Asa... That my scar from Rachel's c-section will not tear during labor.  That I will have great discernment as my labor progresses as to if I should have an emergency c-section.

For child care to fall into place when it's time and protection for the kids... a major bonus of a section is planning purposes... without knowing when I'll go into labor- and not having time to wait around here - I will need immediate childcare for my 3 children here and with Sam's allergies (and my latest post on how crazy they are!), :o) that is a hard thing to come across.  The kids are also worried about me going to the hospital and have been praying daily for Asa to "come out safely" - pray that they won't be afraid while I'm gone.

For my heart and mind... As I get closer to meeting this sweet baby, my heart hurts for Rachel and is remembering her all the more.  I've found myself getting scared that I might lose him too and crying a lot.  Pray that God would cover me in peace and calm my fears and bring this baby home safely with us.  

For good nurses and doctors... We all know what a difference the people who you're laboring with make in your experience.  Please pray that (here's an exact) I can have Kim for my nurse during labor.  (and Michele at some point while I'm there) There is also a nurse I would rather not have and God knows who that is, so pray she'll be on vacation or something! Also that whoever I get for a doctor, they are supportive and  attentive an if there is a problem at all, they recognize it quickly.

For help in balancing the joy of Asa and the sorrow from Rachel... I'm going to be blunt here.. Asa is not a replacement for Rachel and anyone who treats him as such I will not want to be around - and I'm giving myself permission to make those choices as I need to.  Her birthday is 2 weeks after his due date.  I am already worried about how I will handle people who are glad to move on to my alive baby and stop thinking about my dead baby cause I certainly will not be thinking of her any less - and that is not a reflection of how grateful I am to have him or how much I love him.  I don't have the right answer for this one - or even know what to ask for prayer for - all I can tell you is how I feel and assure you that hormones after Asa's birth are not going to make this feeling any easier to bear.  I guess I would ask that you pray that people are sensitive to this and understanding.  God knows the specific people I'm talking about here too so just pray that He would reveal to them how their lack of concern and love for me where Rachel is concerned hurts me and that He will continue to help me forgive, one disappointment at a time.   

OK, so let's get on to the fun stuff... sorry this is so long!!  I'll try to post my prayer requests along the side like I did with Rachel. 

It was hard to get a good view of my boy today - he's been in the same position every time I've had a scan.  He is head down (good boy!) with his hand in front of his face as usual (which obviously doesn't really look like it does here, that's just the way the machine picked it up) and his other hand was playing with his toes the entire time!  So cute.

♥Asa Francisco Aube ♥



He looks just like the other 4... and has good hair just like they all did too!
But it looks a little SHORTER than Rachel's!! 



kind of  difficult t see, but his fingers are wrapped around his little toes!

Most of the scan was light hearted.  But at one point she was taking measurement after measurement of his heart and not saying anything...  I started to think she was about to tell me he had a heart condition.  It's like I'm always waiting for the other shoe to drop.  I just sat there in silence - not knowing was easier than running the risk of hearing there was a problem, so I didn't dare to ask.  And apparently there was no problem, she was just being thorough! 

The other hard part was when she measured my fluid.  She told me my fluid was at 14cm, which is perfect.  It should be between 8 and 20.  When I was pregnant with Rachel, at this point in my pregnancy, it measured 44cm.  No wonder I was in so much pain!!  It absolutely amazes me (and I know it was purely an answered prayer - so thank you for praying!) that my water didn't break early!  It's just not supposed to get that high - ever.  I said "it's cause she wasn't swallowing, huh?" and she just nodded with a frown.  "My poor girl" I said and I started crying...

She gave me the final stats... she estimated he weighs 5lbs 8 oz and is in the 71st percentile and he looks healthy.  I just stared at his pictures and smiled...  I'm starting to feel like I might not only be pregnant, but that I might be having a baby, too.... 

My Appointment Today

Today is my appt at Maine Med.  I'm apparently really nervous cause I'm not feeling so well physically this morning.  Please pray that the doctor will lead me correctly and that I will know what to do as far as my decisions for Asa's birth. 

This morning feels all too familiar.  I haven't been to Maine Med since Rachel and having an all day appt with an all day babysitter (My mom of course!) is way too much like my days waiting for my girl.  I'm going alone today - Matt has no time off....  will get to see my boy again though which I'm looking forward to (never thought I'd say that about an ultrasound again!)  but I'm nervous about going back there and how I'll feel emotionally. 

This morning my sister asked to borrow my video camera today and when I took it out to get it ready, I removed the tape I had in there..... it was labeled "Rachel" and it is empty.....  it's the little things that do me in sometimes.

I'll let you know how it goes....  My sweet Samuel just saw me tearing up and rubbed my arm saying "it's okay Mama, don't worry!" in his squeaky little voice.... love my kids.... especially when they're not on window sills :o)

I Was "That Woman"...

I had great plans of a really inspiring post I was going to write today - God impressed it on my heart yesterday while hanging outside with my amazing husband and kids as Isaiah rode his bike without training wheels for the first time.... that'll have to wait....I'll come back to it....

Today was a disaster.

It all started off okay - running a little behind getting school started, but pretty soon we caught up and things went smoothly.  I had Sam running around naked in an attempt to potty train him and it was going fabulous...no accidents yet and he even pooped on the potty (which I think scared him).  I was feeling pretty on top of my game until we went grocery shopping.

Note to self:  Self, if you EVER think going grocery shopping just before lunch and nap time, while 8 months pregnant, with 3 kids, one potty training is a good idea... you're stupid.  It's not.  Turn back while you still can.

So, my big fear was that my food trip was going to end in tears like last week.  Last week I cried for an hour and a half after leaving the store cause I spent too much money and didn't even have anything for dinners and forgot to buy lunch meat.  Yeah, I know it sounds dramatic, but standing at the check out, I thought I was going to puke when I was trying to decide if I should put it on credit because we didn't have the money to cover it. 

That was a cake walk compared to what my children put me through today.  It all started with the dumb squares on the floor.  The orange and white blocks became a game board for Des & Isaiah and it involved punching each other if they stepped at the wrong time on the wrong color.  It also involved them running from side to side and IN FRONT OF OTHER PEOPLE and making lots of noise.  I told them in my nice mama voice over and over to "watch where you're going.... be careful you don't run into people....walk forward....stop hitting each other....no more running... if you don't stop running, I'll leave all the groceries here and we'll leave - and you will regret it (that's my mom talking)...."  I was just focusing on getting the heck out of there....  We also had a really fun trip to a smelly bathroom in which the hand dryer became the entertainment and Sam was on the toilet freaking out because the noise was scaring him and the other two were squealing so loudly that they couldn't hear me telling them to shut the thing off....  ergh.....

I manage to make it to the check out and I could see the light at the end of the tunnel.... just one person in front of me and then I'm out of here, I'll give them lunch, get Sam to bed and I'll have a break....

The cashier was taking forever with the lady in front of me who was getting her WIC.  For those of you lucky enough to not need WIC, it stands for Women, Infants, & Children and it consists of vouchers that give you free food that supply the right nutrients....but you have to get exactly what is on the voucher, down to the ounces specified.  I was also getting my WIC, so it didn't bother me that she was really slow cause it gave me time to get my stuff in the right order for checkout, which can be stressful if they are moving quickly.  Unfortunately, my kids didn't appreciate the slowness so much - and I didn't know that in 20 minutes it would just about put me over the edge.

The kids started getting antsy...Isaiah asked me 15 times for the Pez in front of him,while I told Des over and over not to read the crap on the magazines they put RIGHT AT A CHILD"S EYE LEVEL!!!  Sam kept trying to stand up in the cart and was now screaming to get out and begging for a drink.

I don't know what I was thinking, other than a change of scenery might do them good, but I said they could all go sit on the chairs at the front of the store. (it's worked before...)  They were only about 20 feet away, but I somehow missed what they were doing.  All of a sudden, I heard everyone around me gasping for breath and as I turned to see what the deal was, I could not even begin to tell you how I felt.... MY KIDS WERE SCALING THE WINDOW SILL AT THE FRONT OF THE GROCERY STORE.... Up about 10 feet in the air in front of everyone and RUNNING away from the store manage who was trying to get them down and looked like he could probably use a pull-up at about that point cause he just might poop his pants. 

I cannot imagine what my face looked like, but all I could say was "You've got to be freakin' kidding me!!"  I left my wallet and all my stuff behind and marched over there and pulled Isaiah down and with everyone watching pulled him by his arm to the seat and yelled "I told you to SIT DOWN not climb the windows!!" and then I turned around and pulled Samuel down and put him in the cart.  I went back to my WIC....oh, this is fun.....   Isaiah continued screaming from where he was at that his shoe wasn't tied....are you serious?  you think I care about your stinkin shoe right now??  Sam screamed bloody murder as his boogers flowed down his face and he now had a steady stream of drool coming out of his mouth and hanging 8 inches down.  I stood there in silence and disbelief....is this really happening to me right now?

All the while....my SLOWER than molasses cashier was questioning me about my WIC items and taking forever.  She actually stopped in the middle of all of this to ask my out of control son if HE WANTED A STICKER!  Are you kidding, he doesn't deserve a freakin sticker...he needs something, but it ain't a sticker and I can't give it to him here so just get me the heck out of here!!  I had now been in the check out for over 30 mins and we weren't even done my WIC, never mind onto the groceries I was buying... my kids had everyone in the store staring at me...and then the lady behind me asks "When are you due?"

Can I cry yet??

Then I heard her say to the person next to her... "well, she sure has a lot of patience"  If she only knew....this was the calm before the storm... I'm glad, however, that my complete disgust at the situation was coming across as "patience" - that's wonderful.

My bill came to too much again and I didn't even care.  All I cared about was how I was going to allow my children to survive the rest of this day - and if they were going to allow me to survive the rest of this day.  A woman who works there that also follows my blog (Hi!) followed me out to the car to ask if I needed a hug.  It definitely helped bring me down a couple levels in frustration.  I asked "did you see my kids in there?!" and as I did a woman walking by said "it happens to all of us..."  I hardly believe you had your kids climb 10 feet into the air in front of an entire store, but thanks...

I drove home bawling...  I was "that woman"...  standing there pregnant with three unruly kids cashing in my WIC certificates as person after person switched isles behind me cause "I" was taking too long.  A few people were giving me the "they're just kids" line to try to make me feel better while the rest stared at me in judgement.  So here's the thing.... being a "kid" doesn't give them the right to act like animals.  When they get older and they are buying their own food and living in their own house, if they want to go to the store and climb the windows and scream and drool everywhere, that's fine with me, but leave me out of it.  It's not happening.  I absolutely refuse to allow my children to act however they want and excuse it by saying they are kids.  They are kids who are going to learn, apparently the hard way, that they don't behave like that.... ever. 

So, here's what I did...  I made them unload and put away ALL the groceries and told them I didn't want to hear a peep.  I made them lunch, put Sam to bed and confined them to an afternoon of complete quiet and reading and told them that Daddy & I will talk about what their punishment will be and then warned them that if I don't get a quiet afternoon, I'll punish them myself and that with how upset I am, I can guarantee they don't want that.  

And I made myself a HUGE ice cream sundae.  It's been quiet here for 2 hours and counting....

Another Friday Without My Big Girl

The Fridays come and the Fridays go.....I can't believe Rachel would be almost 10 months old.  Oh, I bet she would be the cutest thing ever.

Today as I pulled up to her grave, I felt at a loss for what to do.  I usually have something to tidy up or make look pretty... flowers to bring, flowers to water... something to do for her.  Today there was nothing.  It looked perfect.  Her stone is beautiful.  It sparkles.  It shines.  It's prominent... and if I can be so bold as to say, I think it's the nicest one in there.  for all the worrying I did....wow, it's nice.  And the fake flowers I brought last week were just as I had left them.  The flower pot hole we had carved into her stone protects them from the wind.  I didn't bring anything new or have anything to set up.

So I just stood there.  I noticed her grass is still in the shape of a heart.  I just studied the ground and thought about all the ways God has continued to show me that heaven is for real....  and then it was like a ton of bricks on my heart...  my baby's dead body is just below the surface of this ground.   I stood there crying like I haven't cried there in months.  It felt so fresh and so raw.  I can still picture her perfect little face and would love to kiss her little nose one more time.  I picked a dandelion nearby and placed it on her stone and walked away, doing my usual "I love you" sign as I got back in the van.

This afternoon, my nurse from Rachel's birth, Kim, came and spent the afternoon here with me.  It was awesome.  She brought me some daisies too. ♥  I know it sounds silly to care about, but one of my struggles is that when people ask how big she was and I say Rachel was 3lbs 7oz, people get a picture of this tiny little preemie.  Today I mentioned that to Kim and she said with complete assurance, "oh no, she was the size of a 6 1/2 pound baby" and it felt so good.... to know that she knew her and I didn't have to convince her or try to explain how much a baby's head weighs or what it adds to her length or tell her how her preemie clothes didn't fit her and I had to have someone go get a bigger size at the store.  She knew that my girl was chubby and for her gestational age, pretty good sized.  She wasn't the preemie that people think of when they hear her stats.  In the same way that most people long to be known and understood by others,  I long for people to know and understand Rachel and the details about her.  It made my day to hear someone who sees tons of babies of all sizes confirm what I have been trying to tell people.  I guess my desire for people to get this stems from the desire for everyone to know that she was a strong growing baby and I think that if she was that small at 37 weeks that would say otherwise.  But there you have it.... Kim says she was the size of a 6 1/2 pound baby and at 37 weeks, that makes her big! :o) 

Moment #5: The Diapers

For any new readers, my "moments" posts are moments that I wanted to share from our vacation at the beginning of the month, but can't do all at once so I'm working on it moment by moment....

We went bowling one afternoon after Samuel's nap.  Matt packed the diaper bag and when we got to the bowling center, I looked in....

No diapers, No wipes, No change of clothes.... I asked him "what exactly do you pack when you pack the diaper bag?"  Well, because of Sam's allergies, we're always so focused on bringing him something he'll be able to eat, that it's easy to overlook other necessities.  We went in anyway because they were only open a little while longer and we didn't have time to drive all the way back. 

We walked in, got our shoes and headed over to our lane... lane #2.  There was only one other family bowling there and so the guy spaces us out a lot.  We found our spot and everyone sat down to put on their shoes on the bench outside our little area.  I went to sit in the bowling area and there, sitting on our bench, in our lane was this....

A ziplock bag with a handful of size 5 (Sam's size!) diapers and some wipes.  I mean, come on... a coincidence?  Please!  It was such an amazing moment and I love it when our kids see God provide so specifically for our needs.  About half an hour after we got there, a woman came in and came over and grabbed the bag.  Matt told her what had happened and she gave us one.  After we left there, we went to Licolnville Beach, thankful that we didn't have to rush home to get a diaper.  As we sat eating dinner on a picnic table, she approached us again - They had come to the same beach after their bowling trip! - and she gave us the rest of the bag, with 5 diapers in it.  This was the day before we were leaving to come home and we were almost out of diapers.  When we pulled in our driveway the next day, Sam was wearing the last diaper we had with us!

Here's a couple of pics - the kids LOVE to bowl!!

this is why the guy brought us over the ramp to *ease* the balls down the lane!

Isn't she pretty?

"Excited" doesn't describe Sam... he was yelling "go, go, go!!!"

I'll share more about the beach we went to afterwards in another "moments" post....stay tuned.....

Irish Triplets!

It dawned on me today as I told someone how old all my kids are that I don't just have Irish Twins... I have Irish Triplets!  Samuel and Rachel are only 18 months apart and then Rachel & Asa are 11 months apart.  No wonder I feel worn out... the only time in the past 3 1/2 years that I haven't been pregnant, I've been nursing a baby... or grieving and wishing I was nursing my baby. (and 4 months out of that, while nursing Samuel, I was pumping for a friends' baby too!)  I feel like I'm 80.

I was grateful for the conversations I had at the kids' gym class today with a couple of moms who, although offering condolences, didn't seem awkward when I told them about Rachel.  I never know what to expect when I drop the dead baby bomb, but I cannot and will not exclude her when I speak of my children. I have yet to come up with an easy answer for the "how old are your kids?" question.  So, I just said " 8, 4, 2 and I have a daughter who would be almost 10 months old that passed away in December." They said they were sorry and then continued on and happily allowed me to talk of her just like I did my other kids and included her when they talked too without sounding like they were uncomfortable.  It was a breath of fresh air for me and I needed that.  Lately, I have also run into the question "how many girls and boys do you have already?" When they see my big belly and ask if I'm having a boy or girl, it's almost ALWAYS the next question in line.  I used to try to explain, but now I just simplify my life and say 2 boys and 2 girls.  Honestly, for most of the world, that is shock enough all by itself!   

I wasn't as tired today and even made dinner! (I know that sounds pathetic)  So, tonight I'm feeling alright.  Thank you for your prayers.

Carrying Rachel's Irish Twin

So here I am.... 32 weeks today.  I feel like I'm ready to go into labor at any moment and I'm 8 weeks away from my due date!  This picture actually makes me look smaller than I am and WAY smaller than I feel.  I'm huge and most people ask if I'm having twins.  I'm going to start telling them that I'm having an Irish Twin, since technically, I am.  Rachel and Asa will be just 11 months apart.

Just for the record, and I've been known to guess correctly :o), I'm shooting for November 11, which is 5 days before my due date.  It's a Friday, which is the perfect day to have a baby... all of my babies, except Isaiah have been born on Fridays and he was a Sunday morning ( I went in on Saturday) - which with him, was the day I was hoping for cause it was just after Thanksgiving and I had leftovers I wanted to eat :o).  So, in case you're laughing at me for trying to plan my date, let me give you my history...

Des was due on January 16.  I guessed the 4th and she came (with help) on Friday the 3rd, 13 days early.
Isaiah was due on Dec. 5, I guessed Nov. 25 and he came on Sunday the 26th, 10 days early. (on his own)
Samuel was due on March 13, I guessed the 6th, and he came on that day - Friday the 6th. (on his own)
Rachel was obviously a planned c-section, which I picked because it made her 37 weeks and 1 day (full term) and it was a Friday.

Now watch, Asa will decide that he doesn't want to come out and come a week late!!  Oh my gosh, PLEASE pray that won't happen!!  I don't have it in me to go that long!   Matt has no vacation time and no sick time left so being in the hospital over the weekend would be a huge blessing.  We have no room for missing hours of pay.

I'm still not sure if I will have another c-section or a VBAC, I'm meeting with my doctor from Rachel's pregnancy up at Maine Med next Wed. to discuss if I'm a candidate for a VBAC.  I hadn't had a c-section before Rachel.  If I have a VBAC, I will have to deliver up there.  If I have a scheduled c-section, I'm not sure if I'll stay where I'm at or switch to there, but I will probably pick the 11th.  It's a Friday and it's also "Remembrance Day", which is my way of including my girl on her brother's day.  Plus who wouldn't love to have 11-11-11 as a birth date? 

Originally, I didn't think I would want to go back to Maine for a delivery, which is why I've changed doctors 3 times already.   The more I think about it though, the more I realize that I'm not afraid to be where Rachel was.  It might be where she died, but it's also where she lived... a very special place in my journey - not something to be feared.  After listening to others' journeys and hearing people not want to return to the same hospital, I just assumed that it would make it harder and that I didn't want to do that.  But the more I pray about it and think about it, the more I realize that there is no getting out of how difficult the emotions will be having another baby after losing my girl.  Whether I'm in Maine, New Hampshire or on an island far away, I'm not going to escape the feelings that come with this - and I don't want to. 

I also think that I might actually find comfort in being around people who met her... who saw with their own eyes how amazing she was...how beautiful she was...how worth the pain she was...how much I love her.  I hate it when I have to try to paint that picture for people who haven't been walking this road with me - especially my doctors.  I love seeing the people who were there that day and knowing that they shared a piece of my life that is irreplaceable.  They hold a special place in my heart and when I have no words to describe the loss I feel, they are the most likely to not need any, because they were there.  It was such a sacred day.  I would give anything to go back to those moments and hold her again.

The things I do think are going to be hard, but will be anywhere, is the first time I hear Asa cry... I will be so relieved, and yet I think it will only show how profound a silent delivery room is.  The moments when I waited to hear her and never did.  When I leave holding a baby in my arms and buckle him into the car... I know I will remember being wheeled out empty handed after having Rachel and seeing the carseat in the trunk, not needed.  When it's time to give him the first bath... I'll remember how unsure I was of myself on how to handle Rachel when I feel like an old pro with a baby who is alive.  The first time I get to nurse him... I'll remember how I grieved not having that with Rachel.  And I'm okay with all of that, but I just know that my heart will ache through it all and I have no idea how to reconcile that with the joy that I will also feel when those things aren't torn from me with Asa. (I hope).

OK, so here is my point of all of this... I need prayer.  I have some very serious medical decisions to make - as I get closer to Asa's birth, I'm getting more emotional about Rachel's - and I am *overly* exhausted.  This morning, I fell into tears because I got tired when I got up to butter Sam's toast.  I sat down and just cried and cried and all I could say was "I'm so tired".  I feel weak, like I should be in a stinkin' wheelchair. (I don't know how I did this with Rachel and the polyhydraminios I had!!)  Poor Des was watching me in silence, not sure what to do.  I had them check my iron cause I feel anemic, and it is low, but not as low as I expected based on how I feel.  I am getting very discouraged with this.  On Sunday, by the time I got into church, I was fighting off tears because I was out of breath and worn out - and our parking lot is flat and small so it's not like I had a big workout getting inside. 

I think it's just been a lot on my body carrying my Irish Twins.  I've been pregnant for a year and a half, with the exception of when I was healing from my c-section - and I'm feeling it.   I've been so thankful for the meals that a couple friends have brought by and know that God will get me through these hard months and help me make the right decisions for me & Asa, but if you could be praying that would be great...

The things I need prayer for are:
That God will continue to lead me in the decisions I make and I will feel confident in what I decide.
For energy to take care of the boys and school Des (and get them out to their activities)
Peace of mind as I get closer to delivery (I'm getting nervous)
A safe delivery for me & Asa
For my heart as I continue to balance the joy of this new baby with the sorrow of losing Rachel... I'm coming up on her first birthday and it's hard.