Do go together
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Blessings
It's about 10pm. I just sat down at my desk because I felt like blogging. I stared at the empty computer screen for awhile, and then I stared some more. So I thought to myself, I have nothing to say. No tales of Emergency Room visits, tests, hospital visits, or any other kind of drama. I am healthy. My baby is alive and kicking (all day long today, fiercely even), my son is healthy, and so is my husband. All of it is so much more than I could have ever asked for. Peace in this house tonight. Just peace and quiet.
I've been thinking lately about where I was a year and half ago. It seems like a century ago. All I wanted then was to stop bleeding, to raise my son and live. I wasn't asking God for babies, material things or really anything like that. I just wanted to live, and I wanted to be healthy again.
I couldn't imagine then that this is where I might be today. I am more than just alive. We are expecting another baby in March, my husband is working close to home (so we get to see him more), Ethan is healthy and happy (for the most part at least ;) ), and I am healthy. God answered my prayers and then some.
So tonight, while I have no dramatic news, I have an answer to prayer, even better than what I'd hoped. My heart is full, and God is good. And tonight, I'm feeling so blessed and thankful for the lack of drama.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Well done, good and faithful servant
I still cannot fathom that there is a living, healthy, growing baby swimming around in me right now. I suppose that is just a normal feeling after a couple of losses. It is hard to believe sometimes, but I cannot deny the little kicks and punches I'm feeling in my belly. It is a strange but familiar feeling. It doesn't feel real, but then it does at the same time. I'm sure that doesn't make sense to anyone reading this, but it does to me.
This pregnancy has definitely been different than the others. It has been harder. Some days, even though I'm 18 weeks, I still feel like I'm in my first trimester. As exhausting as it is, that fact has been a comfort. I know things are going the way they are supposed to.
I love this baby, and it makes me wonder, how is that possible? How can you love someone so much that you've never met? It is amazing the way God has designed the bond between a mother and child to begin long before they ever meet one another face to face.
I have never seen God (obviously), and I've never heard his voice, or felt his touch, but I do know He is there. There is so much evidence in my own life alone that has proven that fact to me on a daily basis. He preserves, protects me, and allows me to wake up and live everyday. He has given me multitudes more than I've ever needed or deserved and prevented me from having so many things that I wanted but shouldn't have had. I have never been deprived by Him.
If I'm amazed at how much I love this baby, how much more amazing is it that God loves me the way He does? There are days when we give in to our children. We might give in because we just love seeing them happy even if it only lasts for a minute or we are exhausted and just want to hear them stop whining. Sometimes we give in, and it just plain isn't good for them. I am God's child, and I whine too. I whine for things that I want because I want them, even if they aren't good for me. But God NEVER gives in when it isn't good for us. He is a Father who loves us enough not to give us everything we whine for, and he does it BECAUSE He is good.
It is such a painful, difficult thing to watch your child suffer or get hurt. We know though that it shapes their character. They need to fall off their bike a few times, to get boo boos, to lose their soccer game, to get socked by another toddler because they grabbed a toy from another boy's hands. We know that it will prepare them for the harder times that they will encounter later on in life: rejection, loss, failure. Our Father, the One who loves us even more than we love our own babies, doesn't like to see us in pain either, but He knows we need it to grow. Can He stop the pain? Can He prevent the loss? Could He make us succeed instead of allowing us to fail? Of course He can, but He loves us enough not to.
I buck against Him and His plans for me, but deep inside I know whatever those plans are, they are for my good. And let's be honest, I have learned the hard way, what other choice do I have? I can't change His plans for me, so should I wallow in sadness and pity or bitterness and anger, or allow myself to be stretched, broken, to ultimately grow? It has taken me way too long to realize I need to let go of my desire to be in control. I know He loves me enough to allow me to suffer because He wants me to grow. I know He wants me to grow ultimately to be more like Jesus. And I know it is all part of His master plan to prepare me for Him and so that one day I will see His face and He will say, "Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master." (Matthew 25:23 ESV)
This pregnancy has definitely been different than the others. It has been harder. Some days, even though I'm 18 weeks, I still feel like I'm in my first trimester. As exhausting as it is, that fact has been a comfort. I know things are going the way they are supposed to.
I love this baby, and it makes me wonder, how is that possible? How can you love someone so much that you've never met? It is amazing the way God has designed the bond between a mother and child to begin long before they ever meet one another face to face.
I have never seen God (obviously), and I've never heard his voice, or felt his touch, but I do know He is there. There is so much evidence in my own life alone that has proven that fact to me on a daily basis. He preserves, protects me, and allows me to wake up and live everyday. He has given me multitudes more than I've ever needed or deserved and prevented me from having so many things that I wanted but shouldn't have had. I have never been deprived by Him.
If I'm amazed at how much I love this baby, how much more amazing is it that God loves me the way He does? There are days when we give in to our children. We might give in because we just love seeing them happy even if it only lasts for a minute or we are exhausted and just want to hear them stop whining. Sometimes we give in, and it just plain isn't good for them. I am God's child, and I whine too. I whine for things that I want because I want them, even if they aren't good for me. But God NEVER gives in when it isn't good for us. He is a Father who loves us enough not to give us everything we whine for, and he does it BECAUSE He is good.
It is such a painful, difficult thing to watch your child suffer or get hurt. We know though that it shapes their character. They need to fall off their bike a few times, to get boo boos, to lose their soccer game, to get socked by another toddler because they grabbed a toy from another boy's hands. We know that it will prepare them for the harder times that they will encounter later on in life: rejection, loss, failure. Our Father, the One who loves us even more than we love our own babies, doesn't like to see us in pain either, but He knows we need it to grow. Can He stop the pain? Can He prevent the loss? Could He make us succeed instead of allowing us to fail? Of course He can, but He loves us enough not to.
I buck against Him and His plans for me, but deep inside I know whatever those plans are, they are for my good. And let's be honest, I have learned the hard way, what other choice do I have? I can't change His plans for me, so should I wallow in sadness and pity or bitterness and anger, or allow myself to be stretched, broken, to ultimately grow? It has taken me way too long to realize I need to let go of my desire to be in control. I know He loves me enough to allow me to suffer because He wants me to grow. I know He wants me to grow ultimately to be more like Jesus. And I know it is all part of His master plan to prepare me for Him and so that one day I will see His face and He will say, "Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master." (Matthew 25:23 ESV)
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Moms Who Do It All...And Do It WELL
I am so far from the perfect wife, mother and homemaker. I don't have five kids each between 18 and 24 months apart sitting at the breakfast table at 7 am, all bathed, dressed and ready for the day. My house is messy. My kitchen counter is almost always a disaster, laundry sitting in baskets unfolded, crumbs and peanut butter and jelly smudges all over the dining room table, Cheerios or cracker crumbs on the floor and toys spread out all over the house. Don't get me wrong. I try. My vacuum is on at least once every day or so, but 24 hours later it looks the way it did 24 hours earlier. I'm lucky if I've already gone to the gym and showered before lunchtime. I don't wake up before my son and my husband with coffee, orange juice, and breakfast already made for them before they are up. I wish I could say the opposite.
You know that image of the woman from the 1950's, the one where she's vacuuming the house in heels, a cute dress, hair done, makeup impeccable, and has probably a 21 inch waist? Well, that's not me. If I'm home and vacuuming I'm probably in my pajamas or sweatpants.
In the Christian culture, the Proverbs 31 woman is our ultimate goal. It is the image that every Bible believing Christian woman strives to attain and with good reason. If God says this is what He wants us to be, then this is what we must strive for. It is pretty much non-negotiable.
Life is messy and exhausting, both mentally and physically for most mothers. I am so very blessed that my husband can provide enough so that I can stay home and raise our son. These days that is almost unheard of. Still, I can get so overwhelmed. It can be lonely being home often for days on end while my husband is away for work (he has to travel fairly often). I love my son and he is my joy, but being a parent alone most days of the week, without getting much if any time alone and running a house...well, it is hard sometimes.
I am sure that many women who read this would say "Ha! I would love to have your life. I work all day, have to keep a home and take care of my kids and husband." I am frequently disappointed with myself because I look around me and see women working, raising multiple children, somehow managing to cook dinner, keep a house clean and still have time for leisurely activities, their spouse and applying makeup and actually styling their hair everyday. I often think, how do they do it? I only have one child. He's 2 and half, not an infant, not requiring feedings every couple of hours. He plays well by himself, and he's grown to be somewhat independent already.
So why does it all seem so overwhelming sometimes? Why can't I be the super woman that I've seen my Mom, my mother in law, my sister in law and so many others be? I've got it pretty easy.
For those of you who have kids and still manage to do it all, I tip my hat to you. You are a super mom. Keep up the good work, and please - if you have any secrets feel free to share them with me. I could use the help, especially since I've got another one on the way.
(Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful to have the life I do. God has been so good and blessed me with so much, but I would love to be "better" at it).
You know that image of the woman from the 1950's, the one where she's vacuuming the house in heels, a cute dress, hair done, makeup impeccable, and has probably a 21 inch waist? Well, that's not me. If I'm home and vacuuming I'm probably in my pajamas or sweatpants.
In the Christian culture, the Proverbs 31 woman is our ultimate goal. It is the image that every Bible believing Christian woman strives to attain and with good reason. If God says this is what He wants us to be, then this is what we must strive for. It is pretty much non-negotiable.
Life is messy and exhausting, both mentally and physically for most mothers. I am so very blessed that my husband can provide enough so that I can stay home and raise our son. These days that is almost unheard of. Still, I can get so overwhelmed. It can be lonely being home often for days on end while my husband is away for work (he has to travel fairly often). I love my son and he is my joy, but being a parent alone most days of the week, without getting much if any time alone and running a house...well, it is hard sometimes.
I am sure that many women who read this would say "Ha! I would love to have your life. I work all day, have to keep a home and take care of my kids and husband." I am frequently disappointed with myself because I look around me and see women working, raising multiple children, somehow managing to cook dinner, keep a house clean and still have time for leisurely activities, their spouse and applying makeup and actually styling their hair everyday. I often think, how do they do it? I only have one child. He's 2 and half, not an infant, not requiring feedings every couple of hours. He plays well by himself, and he's grown to be somewhat independent already.
So why does it all seem so overwhelming sometimes? Why can't I be the super woman that I've seen my Mom, my mother in law, my sister in law and so many others be? I've got it pretty easy.
For those of you who have kids and still manage to do it all, I tip my hat to you. You are a super mom. Keep up the good work, and please - if you have any secrets feel free to share them with me. I could use the help, especially since I've got another one on the way.
(Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful to have the life I do. God has been so good and blessed me with so much, but I would love to be "better" at it).
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Happy Surprises
I have been avoiding blogging about this because I wanted to keep it private for about 3 more weeks. Yes, I'm pregnant for the fourth time. I have been so tempted to start documenting everything but haven't been ready to "go public" so instead I've decided to document it as of today and keep it private until we are ready to make the big announcement. At that point, these posts will be retroactively public (retroactively? Is that right?)
Anyway, I have known for over 5 weeks now. Wow! Time is flying by. Things have been going well and, thankfully, different than last time. Okay. I'm getting ahead of myself. First things first, I found out because of a silly little comment my Mom made (the day we went to plant the flowers actually). After we picked out the flowers she suggested we take Ethan for ice cream. While sitting in Coldstone I expressed my desire to redecorate our house. While muttering about furniture, she gave me a suspicious look and said "you're nesting." I laughed to myself and I think out loud a little too. Was it possible? I was sure it wasn't because Aron had been travelling a lot, and the timing seemed to be way off for that to even be a possibility.
Later on I stopped at Target and picked up a 2 pack box of First Response tests (feeling very silly because I was so certain it was impossible). We got home and I opened the box, took the test, sat it down and turned the bath water on for Ethan. I had actually forgotten about it and a couple minutes later noticed it on the counter. I headed over to the trash can, fully prepared to see only a single line, glanced at it and couldn't believe my eyes. (i literally didn't believe them) I held it up, squinted a little, and there it was. Unmistakable. The faintest second line.
In fact, I was in such disbelief that I didn't tell Aron that night. I just thought if it's for real when I take the second test tomorrow morning the line will be darker. I laid in bed that night, kept the possible news close to my heart and spent some time with the Lord, reading His Word and talking to Him. I remember praying that His will be done and thanking Him for this precious, and rather unexpected, gift. Unfortunately, I think I had been through so much heart ache the last couple of years that it would take a few more weeks for the possibility of having a living, healthy baby to be a reality in my mind.
I woke up the next morning, took the second test, and knew for certain that my eyes were not playing tricks on me the night before.
Anyway, I have known for over 5 weeks now. Wow! Time is flying by. Things have been going well and, thankfully, different than last time. Okay. I'm getting ahead of myself. First things first, I found out because of a silly little comment my Mom made (the day we went to plant the flowers actually). After we picked out the flowers she suggested we take Ethan for ice cream. While sitting in Coldstone I expressed my desire to redecorate our house. While muttering about furniture, she gave me a suspicious look and said "you're nesting." I laughed to myself and I think out loud a little too. Was it possible? I was sure it wasn't because Aron had been travelling a lot, and the timing seemed to be way off for that to even be a possibility.
Later on I stopped at Target and picked up a 2 pack box of First Response tests (feeling very silly because I was so certain it was impossible). We got home and I opened the box, took the test, sat it down and turned the bath water on for Ethan. I had actually forgotten about it and a couple minutes later noticed it on the counter. I headed over to the trash can, fully prepared to see only a single line, glanced at it and couldn't believe my eyes. (i literally didn't believe them) I held it up, squinted a little, and there it was. Unmistakable. The faintest second line.
In fact, I was in such disbelief that I didn't tell Aron that night. I just thought if it's for real when I take the second test tomorrow morning the line will be darker. I laid in bed that night, kept the possible news close to my heart and spent some time with the Lord, reading His Word and talking to Him. I remember praying that His will be done and thanking Him for this precious, and rather unexpected, gift. Unfortunately, I think I had been through so much heart ache the last couple of years that it would take a few more weeks for the possibility of having a living, healthy baby to be a reality in my mind.
I woke up the next morning, took the second test, and knew for certain that my eyes were not playing tricks on me the night before.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Letting the Flowers Die
Wow. It has been a long time since I've blogged. Where to begin...
Needless to say, the last few months have been hard. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about my Walter, recalling his little face to mind, remembering the eery silence in the room after I gave birth. It was such a stark contrast to when Ethan was born. It was dark, and quiet and sterile.
There is so much in that dark scenario that I have to be thankful for. We sang, prayed, read God's Word, and held him for hours when he was born, watching his little heart continue to beat, swaddled in the baby blanket my mother made for him with the words "You are loved" hand-stitched on it. It was such a blessing that I had no hemmorhage or residual issues from the area where my AVM was and didn't require special medical attention, so we had all that extra time to breathe our sweet angel baby in. Every second counted; every second was and is treasured.
To call it to mind - it still is so painful. I think I expected that 8 months down the road I would be in a different place, maybe just sighing and smiling to myself when I thought of him. I'm just not there. I wonder if it will every really feel much different, or will it just stay this way? Will I ever be able to say I'm truly "happy" that he isn't with us, playing with his brother, falling asleep in my arms, wrestling with his Daddy? I can't imagine it.
I know because he is my son that I will never stop loving him. It is an impossibility. I suppose I am still grieving in some ways.
A couple of months ago I was thinking that I wanted to plant some flowers at his gravesite. In fact, I NEEDED to plant the flowers. I don't know any other way to explain it. I needed to go back there and do something for him, make the place where his little body was laying colorful. Believe me. I know his soul is already gone. I quickly realized that the reason I NEEDED to do it was only because of me.
So my Mom and I went to the greenhouse. We picked out some pretty and colorful flowers and headed to the cemetery. It was a scorching hot day, but we managed to dig up the ground and plant the flowers. We watered them and decided that with the heat wave here in NJ watering the flowers would need to be a daily occurance. Since I live 5 minutes down the road I assumed the task, happily I might add.
It wasn't long before I found that I was drawn to the cemetery. I realized again that I wasn't doing this for Walter. I was doing it for myself. He is with God where there are no more tears or pain or death or sorrow. He is not paying any attention to what is going on at his gravesite, and for that I am so glad. One of my only comforts is that his life was never and will never be tainted by the sadness of this world.
The last couple of times I went to the cemetery I noticed something different in me. It was this angry, bitter emotion. Something about visiting that spot wasn't just about visiting my Walter anymore. It was about feeding this demon inside of me. It was like everytime I went there to water the flowers, I was watering an ugly, sinful bitterness, and it was growing like a weed. At first, I would just tear up a little while I was there, but as time went by it wasn't just sadness I was feeling. It was bitterness. I cannot even explain when or how it turned from tears to anger. It happened when I wasn't looking I suppose.
It took a matter of just a few days before I saw what I was doing, what I was becoming. I'm sure it all sounds a little over the top; oh, I wish it was something I made up. But it was very real, and that was when I realized it was time to let the flowers die. Keeping them alive wasn't worth me feeding the weeds that were growing inside of me.
I think what I'm saying is this. It is okay - not just okay - it is right to grieve ("Blessed are those who mourn" Matthew 5:4), but if it comes to a point where you are sacrificing your own spiritual well being in the midst of your grieving, let the grief die. Don't water it, don't nurture it. Let the sun scorch it and burn it.
"If your hand causes you to sin, cut it off. It is better for you to enter into life maimed, rather than having two hands, to go to hell, into the fire that shall never be quenched..." (Mark 9:43) If there is sin in your life or anything that comes between you and Christ, don't just let it go. Don't just walk away. Run. It isn't passive. It can't be. It's war. Or at least it should be.
I'm sorry to say this, but even 8 months after I said goodbye, I've come to recognize that my baby's gravesite isn't a place I should visit often. I'm sure for many people they could say the opposite, that visiting their loved ones who have passed has helped them heal. For me, I think it is more like taking a scab that isn't ready to come off and picking it off, opening it, making it susceptible to infection. I think for now, I am just going to leave it alone, not disturb it and let it heal some more.
All this being said, for anyone who reads this and sees seeds of bitterness sprouting in their own life, there is a short booklet called "Bitterness" written by Lou Priolo. It is an excellent resource that I would highly recommend and well worth the small investment of your time to look into it.
Needless to say, the last few months have been hard. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about my Walter, recalling his little face to mind, remembering the eery silence in the room after I gave birth. It was such a stark contrast to when Ethan was born. It was dark, and quiet and sterile.
There is so much in that dark scenario that I have to be thankful for. We sang, prayed, read God's Word, and held him for hours when he was born, watching his little heart continue to beat, swaddled in the baby blanket my mother made for him with the words "You are loved" hand-stitched on it. It was such a blessing that I had no hemmorhage or residual issues from the area where my AVM was and didn't require special medical attention, so we had all that extra time to breathe our sweet angel baby in. Every second counted; every second was and is treasured.
To call it to mind - it still is so painful. I think I expected that 8 months down the road I would be in a different place, maybe just sighing and smiling to myself when I thought of him. I'm just not there. I wonder if it will every really feel much different, or will it just stay this way? Will I ever be able to say I'm truly "happy" that he isn't with us, playing with his brother, falling asleep in my arms, wrestling with his Daddy? I can't imagine it.
I know because he is my son that I will never stop loving him. It is an impossibility. I suppose I am still grieving in some ways.
A couple of months ago I was thinking that I wanted to plant some flowers at his gravesite. In fact, I NEEDED to plant the flowers. I don't know any other way to explain it. I needed to go back there and do something for him, make the place where his little body was laying colorful. Believe me. I know his soul is already gone. I quickly realized that the reason I NEEDED to do it was only because of me.
So my Mom and I went to the greenhouse. We picked out some pretty and colorful flowers and headed to the cemetery. It was a scorching hot day, but we managed to dig up the ground and plant the flowers. We watered them and decided that with the heat wave here in NJ watering the flowers would need to be a daily occurance. Since I live 5 minutes down the road I assumed the task, happily I might add.
It wasn't long before I found that I was drawn to the cemetery. I realized again that I wasn't doing this for Walter. I was doing it for myself. He is with God where there are no more tears or pain or death or sorrow. He is not paying any attention to what is going on at his gravesite, and for that I am so glad. One of my only comforts is that his life was never and will never be tainted by the sadness of this world.
The last couple of times I went to the cemetery I noticed something different in me. It was this angry, bitter emotion. Something about visiting that spot wasn't just about visiting my Walter anymore. It was about feeding this demon inside of me. It was like everytime I went there to water the flowers, I was watering an ugly, sinful bitterness, and it was growing like a weed. At first, I would just tear up a little while I was there, but as time went by it wasn't just sadness I was feeling. It was bitterness. I cannot even explain when or how it turned from tears to anger. It happened when I wasn't looking I suppose.
It took a matter of just a few days before I saw what I was doing, what I was becoming. I'm sure it all sounds a little over the top; oh, I wish it was something I made up. But it was very real, and that was when I realized it was time to let the flowers die. Keeping them alive wasn't worth me feeding the weeds that were growing inside of me.
I think what I'm saying is this. It is okay - not just okay - it is right to grieve ("Blessed are those who mourn" Matthew 5:4), but if it comes to a point where you are sacrificing your own spiritual well being in the midst of your grieving, let the grief die. Don't water it, don't nurture it. Let the sun scorch it and burn it.
"If your hand causes you to sin, cut it off. It is better for you to enter into life maimed, rather than having two hands, to go to hell, into the fire that shall never be quenched..." (Mark 9:43) If there is sin in your life or anything that comes between you and Christ, don't just let it go. Don't just walk away. Run. It isn't passive. It can't be. It's war. Or at least it should be.
I'm sorry to say this, but even 8 months after I said goodbye, I've come to recognize that my baby's gravesite isn't a place I should visit often. I'm sure for many people they could say the opposite, that visiting their loved ones who have passed has helped them heal. For me, I think it is more like taking a scab that isn't ready to come off and picking it off, opening it, making it susceptible to infection. I think for now, I am just going to leave it alone, not disturb it and let it heal some more.
All this being said, for anyone who reads this and sees seeds of bitterness sprouting in their own life, there is a short booklet called "Bitterness" written by Lou Priolo. It is an excellent resource that I would highly recommend and well worth the small investment of your time to look into it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)