I AM Holding on to You

For the first few YEARS of homeschooling, I constantly teetered in my heart if it was really something I could do.  The first year we lived in this house, Des was in Kindergarten and that was fine.  But the next fall, she was beginning 1st grade and I remember that September, taking a walk with her, Isaiah and Sam who was just a new baby, on a warm September day and my mind was completely preoccupied with this internal struggle...

Was I going to ruin them forever if I followed through with this?... was I *able* to do it?... would they miss out on life?  Would I fail them?  How could I be everything they need in every area of life....?

We walked past the elementary school around the corner and she asked questions about it.  She could see the kids on the playground and in her mind, that was what going to school meant.  My mothers heart felt so torn.  *I* know that school isn't all the playground... and I know that the playground at school isn't all fun.  But she didn't.

We walked around the corner and the kids stopped to pick these little flowers that were shaped like tiny wheat growing by the sidewalk.  I remember watching them and thinking "This is what it's all about... watching my kids pick flowers..."  I'm not good at slowing down like that, I usually blow right by and just 'get where we're going' - so this was one of those days I felt like a 'good' mom.  I'm my own worst enemy most of the time and am harder on myself than I would ever be on anyone else.  To feel like I am measuring up in my own mind takes a special day - and this was one of them.  I have very few.  I knew that day that I was going to homeschool and somehow I knew they would be ok....

I had always loved the word picture of a green reed that bends in the wind being stronger than a mighty oak that breaks in the storm.  And that day as we walked back to our new home that we loved dearly - and I became a little more comfortable in my role as a stay-at-home mom of more than just one child, I heard a message from God loud and clear... you need to be able to slow down and bend with the winds....be humble and lean on Me.... Trust Me to keep you from breaking....

I went home and gathered all they had picked and stuck them in this little bottle I had.  And they have been on my bathroom counter since.  Almost 6 years now.  They have lost their color and are dried out, but they still stand.  And every. single. time I look at them, I remember my 'good mom' day and the message to bend with the winds and give God control....or else I would break.

I did decide later that year to send Desirae to school and she went for most of that year to a Christian school nearby.  We LOVED that school and she did well there, but before the year was over, I knew she wouldn't be going back.  My heart never felt peace without her here, no matter how many awesome things happened there.  I know deep down, I've been called to homeschool.  I'm not going to lie, a lot of days, I wish I wasn't.  And I stay very open and humble about the fact that I may at some point in the future be called to do something different, or have to because of circumstances, so I never take a 'homeschool is the only way' stance, because I don't believe it is.

That summer, I got Rachel's diagnosis...  and the 'reeds' in my bathroom took on a whole new meaning...  a constant reminder to bend.  Bend with the biggest trial that ever had me wanting to take control.  Bend with the hardest loss I've ever wanted to avoid.  Bend with the deepest pain that ever stole my heart.  Bend.

I wanted to break.  I wanted to throw in the towel and run.  But somehow God gave me the power... the peace... the surrender to keep bending.  And it wasn't just through losing Rachel, but through a lot of trials that came WHILE I was planning to lose her and after she was gone.  Things that would have been more than I could take before her (like constant criticism from people on how I was handling something they could never come close to understanding, marriage struggles, financial issues, physical pain, betrayal, utter loneliness, the death of my uncle) and I somehow managed to handle it all through the trial with her.  Looking back, it's really amazing to see how clearly God carried me and how amazingly He used me in my weakness and frailty.  Nothing I could have done in my own strength.  I was far from a mighty oak, but I was bending with the wind.... and that sustained me.  He sustained me.  And I only pray that it glorified Him in all my imperfection.

Over the next few years, I became confident in our choice to homeschool.  I remained humble about the fact that I never know what is coming down the road, but knew that we were doing the right thing for where we were at.  And I could see my kids really blossoming in the midst of all my failures.  I finally felt like I had come into my own as a homeschool mom.  I had this figured out.

A few weeks back, I sat in my living room feeling again overwhelmed for the first time in a couple of years  - questioning again if I am going to ruin their lives and regret this life decision.  It's so heavy having everything they need resting on my shoulders and to some extent, I envy the people who put their kids on the big yellow bus in the morning and don't think twice and then get to welcome them home in the afternoon all refreshed for them and everyone glad to be together again. (and maybe even make some money while they are gone!)

Being with my kids all the time takes away the excitement of seeing each other... I'm just the one who is always there.  Wait... did I say that like that's a bad thing?  Yes, I did.  I'm the one who is always there and I don't feel good enough.  And honestly, I'm not.  I'm impatient and I yell - and for the record, I can yell loud.  I should have been a cheerleader, but I hated cheerleaders in school - I think because they had the confidence that I only dreamed of having.  But I'm also a complete neat FREAK.  I am like a drill Sargent with my kids and a mess and clutter makes me crazy.  I also get overstimulated with too much noise - and I'm in a house with 5 little kids.  It's messy.  It's noisy. And it's too small for us now, which makes it easily cluttered.  Days are long and yet go by too fast to accomplish all I need to do with this crazy busy house load.

But as I sat there feeling defeated again, I thought back to that perfect September-good-mom day.... and I heard the message again about bending.

Suddenly, I heard a crash from the bathroom.  I ran in and I kid you not, Asa was on the counter naked, had torn out all my reeds and was pouring water on them in the sink.  I screamed like a horror movie....  like I dropped my wedding ring down the drain.... like something serious had gone wrong...

Because I'm attached to this memory and what those reeds symbolize to me.  To know that every other person that sees them in my bathroom remains unaware - including Matt - of what they mean to me - they are just little weeds of some sort dried out on my counter.  But to me... messages from God and a memory close to my heart.  The message that I'm not a failure.  One that it takes a lot for me to believe.

I picked them up in tears.... put them back in the jar.... and I noticed one was broken....

I was tempted to throw it out because it takes away from the whole "bend don't break" idea... but as I looked at it, I realized that sometimes we break... and that's okay... just as long as we don't let go.

And I'm still hanging on.

In February, I was having a rough patch emotionally and my mom stopped by one night with a Willow Tree for me.  It's called "Simple Joys".  When I was reorganizing my counter to get the house ready to put on the market, I put it on the shelf with the reeds and this little sign I have that has the verse from Nehemiah 8:10 - The joy of the Lord is your strength.  I didn't pair them together on purpose, but one day I looked at it and noticed that there are 6 flowers on this "Simple Joys" figurine...one for each of my children... and the verse is worded different on this plaque and reads "The joy that the Lord gives will make you strong".

It's not a joy I have to muster up in order to be strong... it's a joy that HE gives.  And He gives it in ways that aren't always easy.  Actually, I have found the most joy in the valleys that I have gone through.... I have found the most joy in the days when I bend.  I have found the most joy in even the times I break, but just hold on.  Because without the complete belief that I am nothing without him, all I have is my total inadequacy and constant falling short.  But with Him, and through Him, I can bend - as a small reed in the winds, who relies on my Mighty Oak in the storm.

I bend.  I even break.  But I won't let go.  And neither will He.

You *have to* listen to this song with these thoughts on your mind.... I guarantee you will want to dance.....  (if you're reading this through email, you will have to go to my blog to see this)

Still Her Mother

On Mother's Day, we visited another church.  I walked in with my gang and went up to the information desk to find out how the children's church worked.

I introduced myself and said "We have 6 children, but only 5 of them need care... our other little girl is with the Lord so she's already well taken care of."

In case you are wondering, I didn't think that up ahead of time, those words rolled off my tongue as naturally as I tell someone what my name is.

She responded "Yes, she is already being held by Jesus... I have two in heaven myself."

We both smiled knowingly at each other and continued on in our conversation about where the kids go and when...

But I think we both needed that little moment of knowing we weren't alone.

At the beginning of service, they said Happy Mother's Day to everyone and then said they wanted to take a minute to acknowledge the moms who had lost babies prematurely and to let them know that they were thinking of them.

I was right where I needed to be that morning.  I have sat through many Mother's Day sermons and never once heard them recognize mothers who have lost children.  I imagine that for some, maybe even more than me (especially if they lost their only baby and have yet to have another) that moment of acknowledgement was probably the most loving thing that they could have experienced that day.  Because they are still mothers.  I'm still Rachel's mother.  And some days, it's the hardest mothering I do.

I was so thankful for that.  There are certain days I miss Rachel more than others and Mother's Day is one of them.  But between the way I carry her with me so comfortably now and the way this church didn't run from - or just fail to think of - the topic of the loss of children, my heart got exactly what it needed on a day set apart for moms.  One that can carry so much pain for moms who have lost their babies. Because each of our children, no matter how brief their life is, matters to us... and it's so SO special when it matters to someone else too.

Hope Anchors the Soul

I think about blogging all the time...  but I feel like even when I have things I *want* to write, I can't find the words to say whatever it is I might want to say.

And maybe I feel a little like a broken record...

Or maybe like I can't be as profound as I would like....

And I don't want my blog to be dry.  I hate reading dry writing.

But today I might have to be a bit dry in order to get this post out "on time" since I sent out the Save the Dates for Rachel's Race and this post was "supposed to" go out first.

Each race, I have had a theme of sorts that I base things off of.  The first year it was "43 minutes in our arms, always in our hearts" and had her hands in the shape of a heart as the logo.  The second year, it was "Too Precious to Forget" and the logo was the dandelions scattering seeds.  The big dandelion represented me and the little one her, and the seeds, her legacy.  We also gave out little cards to all the baby loss families that said "Some say you're too painful to remember, I say you're too precious to forget"

When I started planning this year's logo, I originally had something completely different than what it turned out to be.  I'm not going to tell you in case I decide to use that one in the future, but it was all figured out... until God put a verse on my heart.  I did what I always do when something hits me like that and messaged my amazing friend Lisa telling her what I was thinking and within a few minutes, she had come up with a super cute way to incorporate Rachel's feet into my vision.  Lisa didn't have the computer program needed to make the logo shirt friendly so my friend Jenn came to our rescue and added all the technical stuff and finishing touches to it.  And it. is. amazing.  I am so happy with it and so excited for how it will encourage people.

But before I share it with you, I feel like I should give a little summary of what year 4 after losing Rachel has brought in comparison to the years before.

Year one, I was overwhelmed with emotions... really high ones and really low ones.  I cried all the time.  I was still very much being carried by people around me and feeling like God had given me purpose through my pain and was using Rachel.  So while it hurt like crazy, I felt like I had beauty in it all.

Year two was still very emotional, still cried a lot, very packed with purpose, very obvious in how far she was reaching and God met me in every low moment in such amazing and real ways - usually through sending someone my way, at random in public, who would share with me that they knew about Rachel.  But I started to struggle with trying to figure out how to continue on with the regular stuff you have to do in life as a now bereaved mom.

Year three... well, I think that brought some type of insanity.  I was constantly swimming against the current.  I cried less, but everything felt hard.  I couldn't make sense out of anything.  I quit everything.  I hurt people and dropped relationships.  I was angry and disappointed.  And in hind sight, I really think it all goes back to the fact that I had absolutely no way to prepare myself for how long this pain would stick around.  It's not at all what I expected, not that I really had a picture of what it would look like, but I guess I thought it would be really hard and continuously get a little better each day until it was just a memory that was hard but worth it.  And I know that is what a lot of people *expect* which doesn't make it any easier to not put that type of pressure on myself... I just felt like I was completely failing at the entire thing... the grieving part, the non profit part, the being a wife, mom, daughter, sister and friend after the loss of my child part... I couldn't see through it.  It was my hardest year.

So as year four started after Rachel's 3rd bday in December, I didn't know what to expect... and on most days, I feel like I do better than last year (not that that would be hard to beat!)  I finally feel like I enjoy being around other people, even if they are talking about the weather... something that until just recently I couldn't stomach.  I feel like I'm out of my 'fog' a bit and things make sense to me again... like the 501c3 paperwork...  but I have come to this hard realization that I am never going to ever get back to a life that feels even a little normal.  I've heard it said a million times... you have to find a new normal...  well, to be honest, that really stinks.  Sounds nice and all, but I feel like I don't even know who I am.  I feel tired of being who I have become.  Even though I know with everything I am, that I AM better - it's not easier, but it's better.

So, while each day and in every season of life throughout these past almost 4 years, I have been at every possible place in grief I could have been, the One Thing that has not changed is that my hope in the Lord...my hope in heaven...my hope in eternity and God's promises have been my anchor.  It's the reason I can turn up my hands in surrender to God's plan and His eternal purposes.  And some days, it's the only thing that keeps me going....

This years race is going to be all about that Truth...it's firm and secure.  Our hope in Him.

Hebrews 6:19We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain,

On the shirts, Jenn made it so that her hand and footprints will be actual size!

And a couple days after deciding on this verse for the theme, Desirae gave her life to the Lord one Sunday afternoon in a parking lot when her & I were out together...I was telling her afterwards that once you are a child of God, there is nothing that can separate you from His love.  Nothing.  And as we were driving home, we heard this song for the first time... and we both just looked at each other and smiled...  You should listen to it!

Us 3 Aube girls are truly connected in a special way - we are all alive in Christ.  Nothing can separate us.  Not from each other, not from the love of Christ....  Not death, life, tears, drought.  Nothing.  He is the anchor for our souls.  And Hope in Him does not disappoint.

And so there you have it... much longer than I expected, but I also started writing this at 9am and had to put it away and now I'm finishing it after midnight.

If you are planning to come to Rachel's Race this August, but have not signed up, would you consider helping us reach our goal to have 43 people signed up by Mother's Day (that's today now!)  I believe we are still about 17 people off.  There is a button to register at the top of the blog on the right.  Thanks!

Thanks again to Lisa for turning my anchor idea into a really cute piece of Rachel and to Jenn for helping us create it.  I'm so blessed to have you ladies as friends and am thankful for how you use your talents to bless others.

Happy Mother's Day to all my beautiful friends... including the ones who celebrate with empty arms.  May the hope of heaven anchor your souls.

Just Like My Mom

12 years ago today, I drove myself to jail to serve the sentence that awaited me after rehab.  Seems a silly anniversary to remember, but I knew the day I walked into that place that I would *never* go back.  What I didn't know was that 2 weeks later, I would find out I was pregnant with my first baby (Desirae) or that God would use her to make sure I didn't ever get tempted to go back to my old life.  I went in on a Friday and that Sunday was Mother's Day... and although my call to my mom came collect, not only did she pay for that call, but she stuck by me through that trial... she bought me diapers for my baby for when I got out... she was strong and brave and dedicated, even when the whole world told her to let me do it alone.  I once again learned from my mom what it means to love my children unconditionally and to be loyal.

When I freak out on my kids and tell them they should worry for their lives... I think "Oh my, I'm just like my mom" and when I love them with the mess-with-my-kids-and you-die kind of love... I think "I'm just like my mom" and when I think about what might come their way as they get older and the trials they might face, I wonder if I can be everything they need in me as their mom and I just hope...that I am just like my mom....

Love you Mom and hope you're Mother's Day is a blessing to you like you have been in so many ways to us kids.

Still Listening?

Matt uses my phone to listen to Pandora on our kitchen radio.  Last night before I went to bed, I unplugged it and put it on its charger.

If you're on Facebook, you know that my little E has decided that 4am is his wake up time.... today, he slept in until 5:15. I've never had a child wake up this early. For a night owl like me, this is a problem... but not the biggest problem I've ever had - I'd love it if Rachel woke me up every day at 4am.

So, I came down and cleared the mounds of the laundry I folded late last night from the changing table so I could change him.

From behind me I hear....Splash Splash....

Yep, he was playing in the toilet that I didn't flush so I wouldn't wake the others...  And my screech woke Sam.... Sam now sits staring at me from across the table.

I started the coffee and gave E a piece of toast and I remembered the package Des got yesterday, so I unplugged my phone to text Donna and say thank you.  I unlocked my phone and saw a message from Pandora on the screen....

"Are you still listening?  We don't like to play to an empty room"

There were only two choices or else I would have said "no" because Pandora kills the battery on my phone.  But my choices were "Still listening" or "Upgrade now" so I went with still listening.

I opened my messages and clicked "new message" - I didn't realize that music would soon start to play.

However, in the background of my phone a familiar tune started.  It stopped me in my tracks as the song that played when Rachel was born loudly filled my air....

I'm finding myself at a loss for words
And the funny thing is it's okay
The last thing I need is to be heard
But to hear what You would say

Word of God speak
Would You pour down like rain
Washing my eyes to see
Your majesty
To be still and know
That You're in this place
Please let me stay and rest
In Your holiness
Word of God speak

I'm finding myself in the midst of You
Beyond the music, beyond the noise
All that I need is to be with You
And in the quiet hear Your voice

I'm finding myself at a loss for words
And the funny thing is it's okay

I stood there for a minute, now leaning against the wall next to me... almost in disbelief and yet, not surprised.

On Sunday, we had a full day - community breakfast and church in the morning, lunch out with the kids, the park, and back to a different church that night, skipping dinner to make it and by the time we got to Rachel's grave that evening, it was getting late and I was exhausted physically, but also emotionally.  I sat above her and cried.... just wishing I could have bought her a dress for Easter.  Just wishing I could have watched her look for eggs....  Just wishing she could have come to church with us and we could have told her about Jesus' Resurrection and why we celebrate Easter at all...  even though she knows all that better than I do.

And I don't usually talk to her, other than to say a quick "I love you" or "I'll be back next week" because it just feels strange....  but Sunday, I had a full 'talk' with her.  There isn't too much that I won't share on this blog, but this talk was so personal and so heavy, I'm not going to tell you what I said to her.  I will tell you that I asked her to ask God a few specific questions for me and see if she could get Him to answer me because, I said, "I'm asking Him, but he's just not listening...He's not answering me..."

Pandora's message struck me.... "Are you still listening?  We don't like to play to an empty room."

Am I still listening?  I think so.  I try.  I want to.  But I'm so confused on so many things.  I can't tell what is from God and what is Satan's advances and I have a constant battlefield in my mind.  I feel like He's not showing me what I need to see.  I feel like He's not answering my questions.  I feel so uncertain of which direction to go with pretty much every big decision in my life.  And for a planner like me, that is more than uncomfortable.

But is it Him or is it me?  Well, since He's perfect and all - and I'm totally not... I'm thinking it's safe to say, it's me.

How could I find peace in that operating room as I waited for the final count of days... hours... or what turned out to be minutes... and be content in waiting on Him for the next step?  How could He give me so much less than I hoped for with her and leave me with nothing more than a wound in my womb to show she existed and enable me to praise Him through it all?

I've learned before and perhaps I'm learning it again.... God is in the quiet.  The first email I sent out letting family and friend know of Rachel's diagnosis, I wrote those words... Please share verses to encourage us because the Word of God speaks...  and in those excruciating, painfully beautiful 43 minutes as we waited for Him to take her home, He played us that song.  He spoke so loudly in the quiet that there was no mistaking that He was in that place.  That we could rest in His holiness.  That in the midst of Him... in the pain, the uncertainty, the sorrow... that He is with us.  He is with me.  I don't need to be heard by anyone else.  I don't need to be understood by anyone else.  I don't need the answers right now.  I can rest in His holiness - and in the quiet, I can hear His voice... even if all it whispers is "It's okay."

There is no "Upgrade" for me.  I am a daughter of the One True King.  My Savior, Messiah, Redeemer and friend.  He is more than enough.

I let the song play through at the volume it was at.  The sounds carried through the house in the early morning hours, before the sun had fully come up.  I now could hear Asa standing behind me.  His usual cries for a drink were silenced as he listened to the song, watching me.  Soon, I saw Desirae out of the corner of my eye...  little by little, my children were surrounding me, but none of us were speaking.

Something about the silence - the very *unusual* silence in my kitchen spoke to my heart.  We were all together, though not one of us was talking.  And I just knew that God was showing me that even when He isn't easy to hear - whether it's His choosing, or mine... He is with me.  The room I'm in is never empty and His love song is always playing.

I just need to follow his lead and dance.

43 Days to Raise for Race Day!

I've been trying to avoid having to ask for donations before Rachel's Race this year.... and I realize that I may not have even really blogged about the fact that I am doing it this summer... I still have a pretty awesome post (If I do say so myself) that I want to share on some details, but I'll have to get to that another time.

Over the past couple of months, I literally have not worked much at all on the race.  Which is good.  And bad.

It's good because my promise to my family this time around was that I wouldn't be too preoccupied with Rachel's Race that they suffered.  It's bad because things still need to be done!!  And somebody has to do them!

So, I've been working here and there on different things... getting things lined up and services reserved.  And everything costs money.  I wanted to wait for the race day proceeds to cover expenses, but they are coming in now as I prepare.  I also thought that as people registered, I would have what I needed, but only 2 people have registered so far - which is AWESOME since it's so early, it's just not working out on the cost side of things.

Long story short, check out this site I set up - if you aren't coming to the race and would like to help, this would be a great way to do that.  If you can't help, please just pass this on and share with your friends!

And most importantly, if you could all be praying for me as I come to mind.... for provision with expenses and for enough proceeds to cover next year's Baby Rachel's Legacy non profit ministry.  I'd love this to be the last time I have to ask for donations!!  I'm so tired of fundraising!

Thank you for your continuous support through all of my requests.  I couldn't do any of this without all of you.

OH, and when I set up this page, it asked for an end date.  I picked June 1st randomly.  When I went to review the page, it said there were 43 days left..... of course there are!!!

Click Here: Raising for Race Time!

4 Years of I Love You's

4 years ago today, Matt & I were on a marriage retreat when I discovered I was expecting our 4th child.

It seems so long ago and yet I can't believe it's been 4 years.  I hate that it's been 4 years.

I didn't want to just let the day go by.  So last night I put an invite out there on facebook to see if anyone wanted to meet up with us to play at Rachel's Playground.

A few people met us there and we spent over 4 hours playing on Rachel's Ark.  It was really sunny, but kind of chilly... but the kids were happy as could be (minus Sam's *constant* crying over *everything*).  That is the most time we have spent there since we built it almost 3 years ago.

My mom came and brought pizzas and salad and friends helped me rake her garden and helped with the kids while I was raking.  And Matt came up when he got out of work and helped us move the HUGE pile of leaves we took off of her garden into the woods.  It looks pretty there and you can see the green sprouting now.

It was exactly what my heart needed.

In the early days, I remember feeling so torn with her playground.  Everyone expected it to make me feel happy and full of joy to see other kids playing on it,  But in my heavy grief, I didn't see anything but people trampling on something that I poured my entire heart into. Something that was only there because my baby was dead.  And many of them didn't even know who she was.  Some days it felt like a huge headstone to me.

Obviously I knew it was meant to be played on and obviously I knew some kids wouldn't treat it right. And obviously there wasn't a guarantee that all parents would tell their kids why the playground was there and help Rachel be remembered... But I seriously couldn't handle it.  So I pretty much never went out there after church on Sundays because it became a source of great pain and frustration for my heart.  I would only go when I could be alone there with my kids or when I was organizing some kind of clean up or maintenance day.

Looking back, I can see that I missed out on some of the joy that could have come with watching other kids enjoy it.  But in those days, I did the best I could do with what I had and some times my best just wasn't good enough.  Some days my best made no sense.  Some days it left me judged and looked at as ungrateful or negative.  But I really wasn't.  It just hurt and I tried to bend with the wind as much as I could... but some days were really windy.....

Today was just so good for my heart.  I felt so carefree the entire time I was there - close to her and doing something special to remember her on this big day in my history - while being able to relax and enjoy fellowship with my friends and the kids playing and having fun.

And tonight after dinner, I went out to get the kids some Easter stuff and I picked up flowers for Rachel and as I was checking out, another cashier walked behind me and said "Hi Rachel's Mama!" with a big smile... and I'm thinking my smile got pretty big too.

That's me.  Rachel's Mama - been her Mama for 4 years now.  I didn't know she was a girl 4 years ago, but on this day in 2010, that was the first time I whispered to her how much I loved her... and I've done it every day since.  And I will for the rest of my life on earth... and when we meet again in heaven.

The kids on top of Rachel's slide

at the bottom.. Isaiah was holding Ezra's "Team Rachel" blanket to represent Rachel in this.

I spent 10 minutes trying to get my kids to give me a decent picture, which I never really got after taking a bunch of pictures.  They were at the bottom and when I finally gave up, we looked up and my friend Mel's kids were at the top sitting in a perfect row, waiting their turn to slide.  Here they are showing my kids up - LOL  So cute!!!

Pizza with Nana!

E was pretty excited about the pizza

And I somehow forgot to get pictures of the other families that came later, but I'm so thankful for everyone who came out and played with us in Rachel's honor today.  Thank you!!

I AM With You

I was talking to a fellow grieving mama friend tonight, her words could have been my own.... she said:

"People don't get it.  They don't get grief.... God is teaching me to keep being the bigger person, and to learn to live with being lonely......

Sometimes I think the loneliness is worse than the grief, and that is the true thorn we must bear until heaven."

Every time I read her words, my heart screams "Yes!  I get that."

I've had so many people say to me that they are 'so glad that I found support on line'.... and I am too, but you know what?  I'm surrounded by everyone HERE.  I'm surrounded by people who are glad when I find someone else who can support me.

And that is lonely.

But as we wrote back and forth, my fingertips spoke across the miles....

"Just remember that in your lonely times, God is always there and He never grows weary of your burdens and he will always be strong enough to carry them with and for you - and He loves you unconditionally."

And as I finished up talking with her... one of my long distance friends who gets "it"... my support from behind a screen.... the song Everlasting God came on.  It was one that always encouraged me through my pregnancy with Rachel - I believe it's even on the CD we made and handed out at her baby shower...

Every. Single. Time I listen to this song, the words that stir my heart to cry out in praise are the words "Our God, You reign forever, Our Hope, Our strong Deliverer....You do not faint, You won't grow weary.  You're the Defender of the weak, You comfort those in need"

OK, so it's the whole song!!!

This is for all my friends (now and to come) who know this loneliness...

I *know* it hurts.  I know it's hard and I know the road is long.  I know how alone a full room can feel. I know.  I feel it.  I live it.  I hate it too.

But I cling to the Truth that Our God is an EVERLASTING GOD... He doesn't ever grow weary of my heavy heart.  He doesn't love me any less.  He doesn't want to get away from me or be with someone more 'happy'.  He is CLOSE to the brokenhearted.  He is full of COMPASSION and He is aware of our suffering.  When everyone around me is blind to the burning rage in my heart....when another shoulder turns away at my approaching....when I watch a group of people talking and laughing and grieve that I will never be fully present in a moment like that again....when their eyes widen in discomfort at the mention of her name.... When I grow weary in this loneliness and pain....

HE DOESN'T.

He doesn't run.  He doesn't leave.  He doesn't hide his face.  He doesn't stop loving me.

In those valleys, deep and dark and stricken with grief.... when we can't find the words and friends grow tired of carrying our burdens.... He is ENOUGH.

My sweet friends, He IS all we need.  This world will always fail us.  But He never will.

And tomorrow, you can remind me of that.

Love you ladies.... and I am here no matter how long or deep your valley, no matter how heavy your burden. No matter how many times you say the same thing. No matter how complicated or unhappy you feel.  And I know that in those valleys, we will become more like Christ and grow closer to our Everlasting God.

So next time you feel the loneliness in the aftermath of your loss... look up to the heavens and say "Jesus, I'm lonely" and hear Him whisper...."I AM with you."

Easy Place To Be

Today was a rough day.

To put it simply, I'm tired of being a bereaved mother.

It's been a year now since we first started on our journey of finding a new church and while I've never really *liked* change and so that alone is hard for me, I find it close to excruciating to be somewhere where Rachel isn't known.

Ezra is approaching the 9 month mark and if you've been reading here long, you know this is one of my most favorite ages... and with that comes so much missing her.  I get excited about his milestones and I try to just be happy and focus on what he is doing, but it's impossible to not have each one of those moments be followed by an  "I wonder what she would have been like...."

We stopped at her grave on the way home from church.  The ice was finally gone, so we took down the garland and Christmas lights.  It was a rough visit....  I stood there, fighting with the flag stand and lights - trying to change things up so it looked fresh and tidy, (without actually having anything new to bring to her) as the wind whipped my hair in my face and my hands ached from the cold, I felt this... I don't know... anger mixed with defeat... building up in me.

I haven't been able to get there - I haven't been able to decorate like I used to or want to.... I haven't been able to find the time or have had the drive to bring my ideas to reality... and at times I just can't think of a single thing I could do.  I'm all out of ideas... I feel dry... and I want to just say that perhaps it means it's time to let it go and not worry about it, but any time I have let it go for more than a couple of weeks, I get really emotional and I usually don't even recognize why until I fall apart on top of her grave at some unplanned visit.

I put the flag stand in over and over and over... and over again... I couldn't get it 'right' and finally I blurted out "I'm so F-ing tired of cemeteries!" and I started crying...hard. (kind of goes with the majority of my day today) as I gripped the stand and pushed it deeper into the soil on top of my baby's grave... the daisy lights I had clipped on it fell off and I stood there, blinded by puddles of tears in my eyes and sobbing. Matt just watched me, unsure of what to do and said "It's not an easy place to be..."

Easy place to be?  I don't have one of those... this is my life.  I get no break from this.  Whether I'm fighting with a flag stand in a windy cemetery, sitting in a new place where nobody knows she is *always* on my mind, or watching my newest baby stand for the first time... nothing is easy.  Nothing is simple.  Nothing is what it appears at face value.  And honestly, I'm so tired of things being so emotionally complicated.  I can almost not even stand to be in my own head anymore.  I wish I had an 'easy' place.  I wish I had a simple place.  I *wish* I could talk "normal" mother stuff and have that actually be all that was on my mind. If only for just a short time here and there, I could slip into a space in time where I was more like everyone else and less like a mother who watched my little girl die in my arms before I even knew for sure that she heard me say "I love you".

I would love to have an easy place to be.

It's a Forever Journey

I think this might be the longest I've ever gone in between blog posts.

It's not that I have nothing to say.  I have all sorts of things that come to mind, that pull at my heart...

I just haven't had the words.

I want to share the daily ways that God reminds me that He is still with me and that she is safe with him.  There are many.

I want to share the struggles of year 4... the way grief still hits me out of nowhere... the sadness I feel when I look in her younger brothers' eyes and wonder about her.  Or the heaviness in my heart when I'm in a group of people who insist I only have 5 kids.  I want to share about the huge gift it is to my heart every time someone says I have 6 children without me having to correct them.

I want to tell you about my very tangible God who still makes times and places fit together in ways that only He could do and how that builds my faith.

I want to share how deep and unending my yearning for heaven is since she's been gone.

But somehow my days feel long and yet fly by.  These guys keep me amazingly busy and before I know it, I look at the clock and it's after midnight again.

I put off writing because quite frankly, I don't know how to do it quickly.  My blog posts have always been where I have worked through my thoughts and pain to a place of surrender and reliance on God.  Like the Psalms...

It's not something I can do in just a few minutes.  But tonight, to make it realistic for me, I wanted to take just a few minutes and just write.  To break the silence and get my fingers moving again.

It's been 3 years and almost 4 months - and while I'm not even sure you call what I'm going through 'grief' anymore, whatever it is is still here... I don't feel like I'm 'grieving' necessarily, but I just know it's not over - it's not my past - and I am positive it never will be.  I'm also completely okay with that.  I will be going about life and feeling like I have made it past the hard part and then it will hit me out of nowhere.  So while I cry less often, when I do cry, I cry much harder.

I do feel myself feeling a little more ready to be around people and talk about surface things, which for years I have had absolutely no patience for.  I would all but jump out of my skin trying to sit through a conversation on the weather type topics.  I am seeing some of my journey through all of this more clearly now and have had some conversations with God about the places that I messed up and what I should do to fix that.

And so I've made a lot of apologies and I'm sure I have many more to go... I'm thankful for the forgiveness I have been granted and I continue to work on forgiving where I need to as well.... that's a hard process for me.

On the other hand, I have also seen more clearly just how incredibly hard this has been and I am amazed that I have lived to tell about it.  Rachel was an amazing gift, but she really did come at a very high price for me and I am still completely confused why God chose me for this position.  Some days I honestly hope He will just take me home because I feel so overwhelmed and inadequate.  And as I write that, all I can think is... Jesus must have felt those same things ten fold.

And I guess I'll stop there because I can feel my mind starting to busy up and I can tell I'm about to change the course of this post.  Mostly, I just wanted to say that I am still here.  We're all doing pretty well.  I still miss her like CRAZY pretty close to every minute of the day.  And there is a ton going on in the Aube house that we could use some prayer for... so here is a little prayer list if you could remember to bring us to the foot of the cross....

- Rachel's Race is planned for Aug 2.  I have made a commitment to my family that this will NOT consume me this year.  There are many costs and I will be doing no pre race soliciting of funds.  PLEASE pray that God will bring a lot of participants and that He will bless my obedience to follow Him in how I am going about this race this year.  Pray for donations - both monetary and of items for the auction.  And most importantly, Pray that I will be a blessing to the other families who have lost babies who will participate in our baby remembrance ceremony.  The plans for this have been going through my mind non stop, I want this to be healing for my fellow baby loss friends.

- We have moved out half our our stuff to get our house ready for the market. We have a few finishing touches to do with painting and organizing (this place looks AWESOME!!)  but we are praying that God will bring a buyer and line something up for us to go to quickly.  We have no set plan, but are hopeful and trusting that God knows and we just need to take this next step.  Pray for my heart, as this is where I lived with Rachel dancing around in me - it's very emotional for me.

- Continue to pray for my niece Jailyn and her mom (my sister) Meagan - as well as my mom Rachel who they are living with.  Jay has come very far but this is a very long and difficult road.  My heart has been so sad for her lately.  Pray that she will get use of her left arm back and for her heart as she gets back into school.  We are praising God that we will get to see her turn 10 soon.  So thankful she is still with us.

- And please pray for my friend Kaitlin as she prepares to meet her little boy who has acrania (similar to anencephaly) and isn't expected to live long after birth.  We have been blessed with 4 of us in this little area who all have had babies with either anencephaly or acrania and have had a few times of sweet fellowship together.  It's sad to me that this happens at all, scary that it happens so often when I never even knew it existed, but so thankful that God has given us each other.  There is nothing like having surface conversation with people and *knowing* that even though you are talking about the weather, each one is thinking about their baby and at any moment if I want to yell out her name, they would all smile and understand.... they might even follow my lead.

Because that is just the way it is.... it's a forever journey.

I Know She Loves Me

We're getting ready to put our house on the market and so I've been de-cluttering.  I have a shelf in the bathroom that used to have a couple of baskets on it with our lotions and things in it.  I moved them and put Rachel's Christmas cactus there in their place.

For Valentines Day, I had found this little heart decoration that I planned to leave at her grave, but I was afraid it would get ruined and I stuck it in her cactus instead.  Every time I look at it and read the "Love you" written on it, I remember how many times people have told me that they thought of her 43 minutes as symbolic of her saying "Love you" to me  (because back in the day, the code for "I love you" on pagers was 143 and it was like dropping the 1 and just saying the last two words)

So when I see the words on this heart, although I bought it for her, I hear the words from her to me.  I know it sounds strange, but I'm just sharing the way my mind and heart work. 

Then I also have this little bud vase I keep in the bathroom and I always put a single or a couple daisies in it when I get new ones for the kitchen.  I had put a daisy in there and put it on the shelf next to the cactus.

Lastly, I have a little white clock.  I had this on the shelf above the dryer for the longest time - it's supposed to help me keep track of time in the morning, which never helps, but it was a good idea.  I had moved it to the shelf because it looked cute.  Last week or so, I noticed it wasn't working and I picked it up and saw there was water in it.  I asked the kids and they told me Asa had thrown it in the toilet (this is why I never read the page in "I'll love you forever" about the 2 year old throwing his mom's watch in the toilet!!) and they didn't know what to do, so they just put it back.  I tossed it in the trash and a couple days later, I picked up a new one. (Thankfully they are only a couple bucks at Walmart)  I put it on the shelf and planned to set it later because it required batteries and I didn't have any....

So tonight, I look at the clock and I literally almost stopped breathing.  I had to get real close to make sure I was seeing it right.  It's set at 10:27.

I looked to see if the minute hand was moving... maybe Matt put batteries in it... it is right about that time... nope, no batteries, not moving....  10:27.  How did I not notice this before?!

I looked behind it at the daisy flopped over in the bud vase and felt heavy at the thought of what 10:27 meant for Rachel...  It was the beginning of her end...  she was taken from the safe and comfy place inside me and put on a cold table with people all around her she didn't know - and then placed on my chest to die. 

I looked up at the heart.... "Love you"

Be still my heart.....

I looked at the other side of the plant and saw the little plaque I have there.... "My peace I give unto you"  it says....

and suddenly I feel like without even trying, I just made the most *perfect* little memorial shelf of Rachel's birthday...

My Christmas baby...10:27...a fading daisy... that loves me... and peace He gave unto me.

That was her day.

And every once in awhile, when I'm least expecting it...that Christmas cactus blooms for me.

And I suppose it's no coincidence that as I wrap up this post, it's 11:10....

43 minutes later, Ezra now in my arms,,,,

I know she loves me.

Even Know-It-Alls Don't Know It All

I'm just going to disclose something here... I have a very serious dislike for know-it-alls.  I'm pretty sure most people do.  Nobody likes to interact with someone who has all the answers to everything.  It's annoying, mostly because it's ugly pride and actually completely impossible to know it all.  You know what I'm talking about... the people who no matter what the subject, they are an expert and can 'tell you all about it'...  drives me crazy.

In July 2012, I wrote a blog post called The Truth About Anencephaly.  I still regularly get comments on it - to date, it's been read 39,444 times with only about 54 comments...  well, the one I got today made 55, but I probably won't post it on that post.  I'm so grateful for how far her story has reached.  I was actually blown away when I went to see how many times the page has been read because I had no idea it was that high!

I have had a few very mean things said to me in relation to this post so when I see a comment come through my email, my belly flips and I brace myself as I open it.  Lately, I have been pleasantly surprised to find all encouraging responses.  Today, I received one from a know-it-all that I just *have to* respond to.  It's not really that big of a deal, I wouldn't say it is mean per se, but it's got my blood boiling and so here it goes... 

This comment was in response to a line I wrote in that post. The reader writes:

" 'And so while it's very obvious looking at my girl in this photo that she has been affected by sin' 

How someone looks or what defects they're born with has absolutely nothing to do with "sin."

Important findings about some factors that affect the risk for anencephaly:

Low intake of folic acid before getting pregnant and in early pregnancy increases the risk of having a pregnancy affected by neural tube defects, including anencephaly.

There has been a 27% decline in pregnancies affected by nueral tube defects (spina bifida and anencephaly) since the United States began fortifying grains with folic acid.

Babies born to Hispanic mothers are at an increased risk for anencephaly. Reasons for the increased risk among Hispanic mothers are not well understood."

 First of all, I would like to share with you how I started and ended that thought because I hate it when people take things out of context...  I said:

"People will say things to make me feel better like "This was God's plan" - and I agree that God has all things under control, but I do not believe that God ever desired - or desires - these types of devastating things to happen to us.  Sickness and death, pain and sorrow, are a result of sin.  God never wanted us to have to endure these things.  But because of the fall of Adam, we do - and so He promises to be with us through it if we believe in Jesus.  And He promises that when this life is over, all who believe in His Son will live forever in heaven with no sickness or death, no pain or sorrow.

And so while it's very obvious looking at my girl in this photo that she has been affected by sin, I also experienced first hand what it's like to hold my child as her spirit, which is whole, went to live forever in paradise.  And who knows, maybe she wasn't really 'missing' anything... maybe we all just have extra growths on the top of our heads...  because I'm certain that she is perfect just the way she is.  And I'm proud to be her Mama."

Second of all... ALL OF US are affected by sin.  It's the reason we die at all, and it IS absolutely the reason that anything like anencephaly exists to begin with, including normal aging.  I am not saying that Rachel - or I - was being punished for our sin.  I was saying that if sin didn't exist in this world, there would be NO death or dying or ANENCEPAHLY.  Whether we choose to acknowledge this truth or not, it's the truth.  It's like gravity - you may not acknowledge that you can't fly, but try jumping out of an airplane without a parachute and you will learn that gravity wins.  God's Truth is like that.  You can't escape it and you can't change It's mind.  Gravity drags you down and sin causes death.  It's the way God created the universe and the way He punishes sin.  You don't have to like it or even agree, but one day you will have to step out of the plane.

My next issue... If anyone thinks at this point in my journey - 3 1/2 years after I watched my baby die in my arms that I have a need for more information, I don't.  That little blurb came with no heart and straight 'facts' with seemingly no real comprehension of anything I said.  I have done enough researching and talking to other moms to know more than I want to or I need to know about anencephaly.  If there are new things to consider, I'm not interested - I have enough to worry about with all I already know.  It becomes very difficult to take my thoughts captive if all I ever hear is how if I do xyz it lowers my chances of having an anencephalic baby because guess what?  I ALREADY DID and I know it can happen again. So while it's fun to think I might have some control over it happening again - say if I eat enough of these 'fortified grains' that this person speaks of - I don't want the control.  I don't want it for the future, because if I take it for the future, I have to claim it for my past and Rachel's "defect" was not my fault.  It happened - get ready for this... BECAUSE OF SIN.  Not specifically hers, Not specifically mine.  Just because sin is here and from the moment we are created, we are dying.  You've heard death is a part of life, haven't you?  Yes, that's right - but it wasn't always.  God created us good.  Perfect.  Adam and Eve sinned.  Death exists because of sin. 

But you know what else?  God has USED it for my good and HIS glory.  It's not just about her missing her brain, people.  This is the story of Rachel Alice Aube and the unbelievable legacy God has used me to help her leave.  Her life is so much more than her defect and so I don't actually desire to know what caused it.  I could literally go completely insane and die of a broken heart lamenting over why this happened if I allowed myself to mull over it and not just trust God with the why, the how, and the what if it happens again....

But I just have to say it... do you really think I don't know about the folic acid line at this point?  Do you really suppose that I made it through tons doctors visits, dozens of ultrasounds, and multiple genetic counselors without any of them filling me in on that?  It was literally the very first thing I learned... and you know what I said when they told me? 

I said, "She's my daughter and I love her and I will not give up on her... no matter what comes our way."  I listened to them when they were saying it was probably a folic acid deficiency, but to be honest, I never gave that too much weight.

I started taking more as they recommended, but I asked for the blood test that would confirm this suspected folic acid deficiency before I started - I was told and I quote "We don't usually do that kind of test."  OK, so that begs the question... if you don't 'do that kind of test' when someone has a baby with anencephaly, then how in the world do you know that a folic acid deficiency plays a part?... Oh, that's right... you don't.  And here's something interesting for you to know...MY FOLIC ACID WAS FINE. that's right, "Normal."  And I was on folic acid before I got pregnant... just another interesting fact.  Not a guess or a statistic... a fact. 

On top of this, I have been working with Duke University in their anencephaly study and after well over 25 years of studying anencephaly, they *still* do NOT have a definitive answer.  They told me that they believe folic acid can play a part but have been unable to prove it.  Probably because of people like me who actually get tested and find that folic acid wasn't it.  Does that happen?  I'm sure it could be.  But if it was *the* reason... it would have been proven by now.  *The* Reason is the effects of sin.  It's the same reason that things like cancer, diabetes, and yes, even know-it-alls exist.

We all know someone who has died.  Tell me, which of your dead loved ones would you want someone talking about like they were nothing more than a number or result of your being deficient?  Which one of your family or friends would you like to be told could have lived if you had only eaten enough grains? 

So now that I've made my 'points', which I'm aware plenty of people could - and probably will - debate with me... and don't really leave me feeling much better...let me humble myself and share my heart.

I wrote that post as part of my grief journey.  I wrote it because I realized that I needed to stop running from her anencephaly and accept that it was part of her.  I wrote it because even after 2 years of research and another healthy baby, anencephaly had a grip on me.  It had me scared.  Sometimes to a point of being paralyzed. 

I would go to great lengths to only let people see Rachel in photos that hid all the 'imperfections' and all that was missing.  I wrote that post because Rachel was not about science.  She was not about deficiencies.  She was not about eating more grains.  And while I understand that many people who find that post do so when researching Anencephaly for school or some other scientific thing, I would hope that anyone with half a heart could see that I was not writing a textbook... I was writing the story of my love for my daughter and God's love for me as I mourned the loss of my baby and felt the deepest pain I have ever experienced. 

I wrote it to share the story of Redemption. Her redemption.  My redemption.  And if you put your trust in Jesus Christ and humble yourself before His throne... Your redemption.  It's a mystery of love and grace and mercy and although it is a beautiful thing, it's not always painless getting there.  I would go so far as to say it's never painless. 

And if I'm perfectly honest, when the anger fades, what is really there is hurt.  What's left is sadness.  Guilt.  Questions.  Uncertainty.  Fear.  Tears....

Because the only thing worse than putting your baby in the ground is being told you could have stopped it.  The only thing worse than the thought of it happening again is the pressure that comes with believing that I can do the right things and avoid it.  And the only thing worse than my daughter having the top of her head and most of her brain missing is when I do such a hard thing as share that photo with the world, to be sent cold and indifferent "findings" as if it's a photo of anencephaly and not my baby.

There has yet to be a time that someone has offered another possible thing I could have changed, that I have not felt chaos in my soul.  The *only* time I am at peace with losing Rachel is when I am totally surrendered to God's ways, believing His plan for me is better than my own, and completely trusting Him with my heart - both in what I have endured in the past and what I could come up against in the future.  He's the only One strong enough to carry me through it.  And I'm so thankful He does.

I was sharing MY truth about anencephaly.   I never in a thousand years expected that anyone would read that and see my vulnerability as a time to jump in and correct me... even if they were thinking it.  I read that comment and I wanted to jump through the computer and shake them...Don't you get it?  You don't have all the answers.  And it's okay.  God does.

Even know-it-alls don't know it all.

He's Got This

It appears as though my blood pressure is finally coming down. The doctor has given me the go ahead to start weaning off my meds, so long as it stays low as I do.

I have been asking doctors and nurses since Ezra was a day old about this strange cramp I keep getting in my stomach and I have been blown off every time.  Today she finally paid attention and confirmed what I had been suspecting all along, I have a hernia.

I'm feeling really discouraged with this.  Not necessarily the hernia, but more so my entire physical state.  Seems like it is one thing after another and I'm just trying to be a young, healthy and somewhat fit mom so I can be involved in my children's lives and enjoy their younger days with them...  It's gone from my blood pressure issues to painful autoimmune diseases to a complicated gene 'mutation' to anxiety and now a hernia...  I'm pretty tired.  Not physically, but more so mentally and emotionally.

I felt mostly fine about this all day, but tonight at church, I cried a lot.   I wasn't really engaged in the crying, I just couldn't stop the tears.  And as I thought about the why of it, I realized that I was just starting to feel like things were getting better.  I've been doing an exercise program at home, 15 minutes a day and have seen amazing results physically, mentally and emotionally... and I've been feeling stronger and healthier - I've been in less pain....

On top of that, today is the day that the city voted on the approval for Rachel's Race... I'm supposed to call in the morning to get the official okay... 

And on top of that... I don't have insurance.  We tried to get me onto Matt's and they wanted us to pay back to November to sign on mid-term - so I looked into Obamacare, which somehow concluded that we could afford almost $1000 a month for just me (crazy!!!) but they would give us most of it back at the end of the year - that would be great if we had that up front, but we don't. 

I asked the doctor today about the exercises I do and she said it should be fine.  What I'm reading on line isn't so sure about that... and this is the doctor that told me I was just constipated for the last few months... do I trust her?  Not really... but I can't afford the surgeon without insurance.

The exercise is what has been helping me feel better as far as my horrible joint pain and I don't want to stop.  I like being able to move better and I like not looking 6 months pregnant anymore.  But what if I make the hernia worse?  But if I stop, the joint pain will undoubtedly get worse again. I was feeling extremely laid back and calm about Rachel's Race for once and I don't know how this will all play into that - like, how does a person run a 5K event after having surgery? (or with a hernia?)  And how will I care for the 5 kids I have at home if I can't lift for 5 weeks?  And what about nursing?  And a whole bunch of other 'what if's' that I don't have answers to because at this moment in time, I don't even know how bad the hernia is or what kind of surgery it will require because I don't have insurance and can't afford an ultrasound. 

I just feel so stuck.  I feel a little robbed.  Like here I am with all these things finally lining up and feeling a little more human - and now it's taken out from under me and I'm going back to square one.  But maybe that's just an illusion because the last diagnosis I got, I've just ignored because I didn't know what to do with that either. 

During our prayer time tonight at church, one of the ladies reminded me that 'God's got this'.  And I know He does.  He has never once left me alone or failed me.  He has shown me in a bunch of different ways today that he is here and in the details... starting with the bouquet of daisies and pink roses that met me at check in before I got this news this morning and the bouquet of daisies that met me at my house when I got home from my appointment... and the multiple references I have been sent or 'stumbled upon' reminding me to REST in the Lord.

So, I am feeling low... and it probably won't be hard to tell by looking at me... but there isn't a valley I've walked through that My Lord has not met me in to light the way - and so as uncertain as this feels and as frustrated as I am... I will rest in Him... because He didn't bring me this far to drop me. Everything I do is for His glory - so I am believing He will see it all through in his perfect way and time.  I'm trusting that He's got this.

A Time to Laugh

Thursday night Matt parked across the street so he could shovel our driveway.  I mentioned at about 10pm that he should move his car back to our side of the street and shouldn't leave it there.

He said "It's fine."

Friday morning I woke to Isaiah telling me he saw footprints up to our front door.  I shooed him away and went back to sleep.  Next thing I hear is Matt saying "Stacy, you're never going to believe this... I went out to get your Valentines gift out of my car... and my car is gone...."

We all threw our boots on and jumped in the van.  Matt was the last one in and I instructed the kids to all yell "Happy Valentines Day Daddy!!" when he got in the van. He laughed.  As we drove, he said he was going to ask them to give him a discount.  And he was serious, which was the cute part. :)  I told him "I know you're special and all, but you're only that special to me."

That night we planned to go skating with the kids.  We got to the rink and it was closed for snow removal on the roof... we decided to stop at Hannaford's and get a snack for the kids.  My wonderful husband dropped me at the door in front of the grocery store and as I made my way to the entrance, he began yelling as loud as he could "I LOVE YOU HONEY CAKES... HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY... I LOVE YOU!!!" (In a voice that sounded almost as if he was in pain) Everyone around me was embarrassed too...and of course there was a 'traffic jam' at the door and like 10 people going in at the same time. One lady said "You're loved" and I mentioned that, actually he was just going out of his way to embarrass me. "His is coming to him" she said...

As I walked through the store (wearing my loudly swishing snow pants) I kept laughing out loud to myself. I pretty much looked crazy. And then when I went back to the van, he locked the doors and started yelling "Do a dance honey!" As he threw his arms around encouraging me to dance as if that was the 'password'.  The kids were cracking up and probably a bit nervous for his life - But, after I busted a move in the Hannaford parking lot in my snow pants, I promised him I would get him back.

Well, 'his time came' when we went to a Murder Mystery Dinner Sat for our anniversary. We had other plans that got canceled because of the storm and last minute we decided to go to this show that we had no idea what it even was! It ended up being an interactive play where there is a murder and you have to figure out who did it (think the game Clue) They gave us fake cash to buy clues, but in one room when they offered the 'highest bidder' a song made up for - and sung to - the person of their choice, I bid all my money to get Matt up there... and this is what came of that... 

And after he was thoroughly embarrassed... I promised him I was putting it on the internet. :)

Next time you see him, do me a favor and say "Hi Big Bad Matt!" He can just thank me that I didn't make him do the running man. ;)  

I think this may have been the most fun anniversary we've had yet and I realized just how much we love to laugh. Something our relationship was founded on and can get lost in the day to day of life... but as silly as it sounds, this weekend brought that back for us and it feels awesome.  Looking forward to another year with my "Hot Matt". LOL!!!

While the journey with Rachel was hard on us in so many ways - and honestly, I know with all I am that God' grace alone kept us together through it... I am so thankful for how our sweet little girl gave us a different vision for our lives.  We stopped on the way home Sunday to shovel out Rachel and a couple other graves and I said to Matt "This was never what I envisioned when we stood in that church 8 years ago... that we'd spend so much time shoveling graves..."  And my next thought was "Whatever you do, do it as unto the Lord" 

Rachel taught us how to shine - and how to see light - in dark places.  She taught us how to love... to live... to laugh...right where we are and in whatever circumstance He sends our way. Our lives and our marriage are so much richer from loving this little girl who some saw a just a burden.  You'll never see me slap on a fake smile, but I've never been more sure that the joy that the Lord gives makes me strong.  It just comes in a completely different package than I expected. 

Today we celebrate 8 years of marriage, 6 babies, all our needs constantly provides for by our amazing God....and we look forward to every day we get to spend together in the future here on earth... and eternity together in heaven.  We are undeservedly blessed.

Love Never Fails

Getting caught up on some posts today - sickness has us home from church and I have trouble finding time to write during the week now.  Homeschool is busier than ever (obviously) and by the time I teach, get Asa down for nap, eat lunch & exercise and then shower...it's time to make dinner.  Anyone who thinks a homeschooling family is suffering from boredom is delusional.

So anyway... I have struggled since E arrived to get to Rachel's grave on Fridays.  Our new church is in Dover, so we have been stopping there a lot on the way home.  I feel okay about it.  Like I've said, I do what my heart needs and I haven't really been *yearning* to get there on Fridays like I used to (right now).  But every once in a while, I *need* to go. 

As January came to an end, I was aching to get her grave "up to date" in décor.  Her tree was still up and every time I went, I felt like it was time - but I never seemed to be able to plan anything out and so I always showed up empty handed.  I refused to take down our Christmas stuff at home until I changed hers out since it went up on her birthday at both places.

I usually put out a bouquet of daisies and tulips (our wedding flowers) for February since our anniversary is on the 18th.  But I went up in the attic to get them down and the last 3 years of weather had done a job on them.  They looked beaten up.  I went out to Walmart to try to get something and after looking forever, came across a DIY project page for a Kissing Ball...

I had just said to Matt the night before that I thought the kissing ball we put out for Christmas worked good because the snow didn't stick to it... and a kissing ball seemed appropriate for February - so that was it.  I picked out some flowers to mix into the old ones (the old ones have a lot of sentimental value since my mom had brought them to her birthday at the hospital) and I went home and got my glue gun out. 

After about an hour of messing with the ribbon, flowers and hot glue, I felt it....

I *really* needed to do something for her. 

I used to spend all sorts of time creating things for her grave.  I liked everything to be handmade and from me with lots of meaning.  And I just haven't been able to do that for a long time.  (5 kids at home takes up most of my time)  Often I pick stuff up on the way and make it there, but always in a rush (and the last time was when Matt cut his finger in August!!)  But back in the early days, it was how I worked through my intense need to care for her when I couldn't actually care for *her*.  I just didn't realize I was craving that so much. 

I didn't make it on Friday... so we planned to go on Saturday.  That didn't happen, so it became the plan for Sunday.

Sunday when we got out of church, we were in two separate cars because we had Jailyn & Caleb and we don't all fit in one.  It was a long morning, so the plan became to go home and I'd go back later to decorate...but something happened to me.

I think a mix of being completely exhausted....

( Side note:  If you have never taken care of someone who has disabilities before, this may not have crossed your mind - but please say a prayer for my family, especially my sister - as great and amazing as Jay is doing, it's a huge amount of work and Jay requires a lot of help.  It's also just very hard to see someone you love have a sudden tragic thing take away so much from them. It brings on a different kind of very real grief for everyone. It's easy for people to see her and only think "wow, so amazing" - and don't get me wrong - it IS... she is alive and walking and she is absolutely proving the doctors wrong and proving how amazing God is... but my heart breaks over and over again as I watch her try to lift her arm by her shoulder or push her bowl to her chest to try to eat without dropping it... or to sit and watch kids run or wrestle and get angry at them for being able to and feeling left out. Or the crazy amount of medicine she has to take through her G-tube.  Quite frankly, this journey has just begun for them and it's a hard one.)

... and feeling the weight of this huge burden I have to be a light in an often dark and painful world....

I found myself leaving Matt going in a different direction and driving straight to Rachel's grave.  I was pouring tears before we ever left the parking lot of the church.  I stopped suddenly at her spot, stepped out, took a few good size steps to her stone and fell on my knees on top of her grave. 

The ground wet and muddy from the snow having been shoveled away, I had a complete breakdown - like a face-on-the-ground kind of breakdown.  Bent around my knees, I sobbed and clutched the ground over her tiny body, leaving fingerprints on the grass, and it was not even about her completely...

It was more about everyone I love having no interest in their Salvation through Jesus and I can't do anything about it... It was communion Sunday and the sermon at church was amazing... but usually when I hear about how God rescued me from eternity in hell, I usually feel so thankful - but this day, I wanted to just ask if He was going to fill my heart with so much love for people who would turn from him, couldn't he have just left me in my ignorance?  I know it sounds stupid... I mean what kind of fool prays to be ignorant and go to hell?

I sit on top of Rachel's grave and hate the ground that separates us and I just fear the day that any of them die and I don't have anything else but the ground between us...  no promise of seeing them again - not a true one anyway.... and no ability to picture them in 'a better place'.... and honestly, it makes me want to puke.  It makes me beg Him to take me first.  I know their eternity isn't supposed to be about me... and it's not... but I don't know how I would make it through losing any of them knowing heaven was not their destiny. 

So there you have it... I'm a selfish, afraid, and now soaking wet and puffy faced mother, daughter, sister, friend... who would rather go to hell with you than leave you behind.

But I can't give it to anyone  - and most the time I'm not even a good example of what it means to be in the body of Christ... I feel like I can't even rightly show them why they would or should even desire to know Him... and it literally feels like a million tons of bricks crushing my chest and stealing my breath. And because I know all too well that we aren't guaranteed 90 years with anyone... time feels like it's going to steal them from me.

I got back in the van, pushed my frizzy  hair away from my face, wiped my mascara from my cheek to my pants, I looked back and begged Desirae and Jailyn to take their relationship with God seriously - and drove home...crying.  They probably thought I had gone off the deep end.  But dear Lord please don't let me be a stumbling block to my children and my family...don't let me fail them. Show me what it means to never let love fail.

The plan became to bring Rachel her new stuff on Monday...which "just happened" to be the 3rd.

We took a vacation day from school and went to Rachel's grave.  Packed up the Christmas stuff and put out the Valentines/Anniversary stuff...

I'm pretty happy with how the kissing balls came out. I made one for our house too. My best friend Lisa had sent me a new flag for Rachel a couple weeks back that has her hands on it and it says "Love Lives Here - Hope does not disappoint us - Romans 5:5" I thought it would be perfect, so I ordered another one.  I try to always have matching stuff here and there, which actually helps me on the weeks when I don't get there.  I feel like I can still see how her stuff is doing even without driving over there.  The other flag isn't here yet (I'm guessing it will show up on Valentines or our Anniversary - because that's just the way things go around here!) so I put the "Thank Heaven for Little Girls" flag with her for now and her hands here at our house. 

So anyway, here it is... that was much longer than I expected... sorry!



Love
Always Protects, Trusts, Hopes, Endures.
Love Never Fails

 

I couldn't get the Christmas lights out, they are frozen on the ground, so had to leave the green garland up for now.

The tulips and daisies from the first February without her (was our 5th anniversary) mixed in
and a little heart shaped rock one of the kids found that I painted for her.

By the time I got the ones at our house set up, it was late at night... but I got them out there on the same day.
My heart wouldn't have allowed anything else.  The bright pink looks so pretty - and 'ironically' I couldn't get to the garland or lights here to take them down because of all the snow... which I didn't realize until right now makes it just like her grave.

Not in This Storm

During one of the recent snow storms, Asa was asleep and me, Matt & the other kids all went outside to play.  It was Ezra's first time playing in the snow - he really liked the sled and seemed to be in awe of the snowflakes.  We all laughed and got so much joy watching his response to the surroundings. It was precious watching him look around, all bundled up and pink cheeks.  He has the cutest little nose - well, all my kids have that nose... it's super cute. :)

As we played, I kept getting this overwhelming feeling that I *really* wished Asa was with us.  He doesn't often get to play in the snow and I knew he would love playing outside with Mama & Daddy too.  I had to regularly fight the urge to go wake him up and bring him out with us. 

At one point or another Matt and each of the kids all said to me that they wished Asa could be there too. 

I was the only one wishing Rachel was there too... (that I know of) but something about this moment helped me to feel a little less 'obsessive' and a little more 'normal'.  I realized that it's not just because Rachel is dead that I miss her.  It's because she is my daughter.  And it's 'normal' for families to miss people in their family when they aren't around, especially if they are making memories together.  I missed Asa just as much as Rachel in that moment - and he was just upstairs sleeping. 

I'm not really into the whole analyzing grief thing.  I've tried to just allow God to do what He will with my pain and my journey for the last 3 years and to allow myself to feel and do - or not do - whatever I need in order to help my heart survive this unimaginable loss.  But this was one of those times that helped me to feel less like I'm just stuck on the memory of my dead baby and more secure in knowing that I would miss her just as much if she was upstairs sleeping.... I would still want her in every picture, still want her in every laugh, still want her in every memory. 



the snow made it hard to get good pictures, it was coming down pretty good.

I've had people suggest to me that I only still miss her like I do because perhaps I feel like if I let go of this pain, she will be too much in the past and I'll have nothing left.  That maybe I force myself to still keep her so included and I should allow myself to move forward and know that she would be okay with it and that it's okay to let her be a great memory that doesn't affect my future. 

While I understand where they might come to that logic, I have always known that grief isn't something that follows logic... at all.  But more than that, I know that a mother's love doesn't follow logic... at all.  And I know that God designed my heart and my mind for His glory, not my comfort.  He never said that life would be all happy smiles and fun.  But what I've found in the middle of this long snow storm; the storm that has forever left me with a painful awareness that we aren't all here... is that the JOY and PEACE and HOPE and unspeakable LOVE that I have experienced in each and every tear as I miss her is something I could have never had without the pain - not without the rain, the gray skies... the snow... 

But while Asa slept upstairs, I was given the perfect picture in my mind of Rachel... just in a different room... probably dancing... until I get to where she is....

I saw that it's okay and totally "healthy" and not stunting my "healing" to wish they were with us everywhere and in everything we do.  Nobody would suggest it of my feelings over Asa, so suggesting it of my feelings of Rachel makes absolutely no sense.  Much less sense than my feelings.

So, while I missed them both while we played in the snow, I knew I would see them both again at different times - and have a chance to play with them both again...  just not in this storm.

ridiculously cute, right?

the Aube nose

My honey

going for a ride!  "What are you guys doing to me?!"

Getting Ready to Race

Received an e-mail from the Dover Police, in reference to our event permit for Rachel's Race, ending like this:

"I look forward to working with you to help make this event successful and safe for all involved as you continue to honor your daughter’s legacy." 

The word that somehow pulls my heart strings is "continue" - for one because I am and for two, because others know it.  I also love that he refers to her race as 'honoring her legacy'.  I'm just so thankful that the purpose isn't lost to others.


Rachel Alice, you will not soon be forgotten.... Not if I have anything to say about it... which I do and always will :)