Balloons for Heaven

I can't believe it's been three years. Some days the pain feels like yesterday, and other times, like a hundred years ago. No matter what, June 2nd comes around once a year whether I want it to or not. Today like every June 2nd we hauled ourselves up a hill at the beach to send balloons to Heaven for Andrew. Said a silent happy birthday, blow a kiss, whisper I love you. Let the balloons go, because really you can't send regular gifts to Heaven. And then went for ice cream. After all ice cream is an important part of any birthday. 

I once heard that someone didn't think it was healthy for us to spend a day remembering him. I balk because really this day isn't any different than any of our other children's birthdays, other than his birthday is in Heaven. Sadly we still live in a society that thinks cherishing and openly sharing a child's death is taboo. Don't talk about it because it makes people uncomfortable. It's just plain weird. And really the problem is society. Sorry people but the 1950's were over a long time ago. 

Honestly I don't talk about Andrew or celebrate his birthday for anyone but us. 

When people ask how many children I have, how should I answer? Is my child who died less important than the ones who are still alive? Is he any less Important because he never breathed outside my body? 

Those balloons are for Heaven. They are for Andrew. They are for us as a family. And really any good mom would do the same. 

When your joy hurts others

Well I did it. I shared our exciting news. All. Over. Facebook. Except I forgot one thing. I have other friends who have also been struggling through the land of infertility. I have the worst case of pregnancy brain this time around. And in my excitement to share that we finally have a healthy pregnancy after a very long three years, I posted the picture of my first ultrasound. I forgot about my other friends. I forgot to be sensitive to their pain. I didn't truly forget them, but I do feel like I may have handled it a little less than sensitively. 

The problem is that there are times when your own personal joy becomes someone else's pain. I've lived it so I understand first hand. Someone else who is expecting is so excited. And all you can do is cry and ask God why? Sure you're happy for her, but the pain is still very strong. And as much as you want to rejoice for that person, you can't help but let hurt and bitterness swallow you whole. There have been many years in between my children that I've gone through this. The emotions became an all too familiar roller coaster. You begin avoiding baby showers, go out of your way to avoid walking by a pregnant person. You avoid new babies, discussing pregnancy experiences, if you've had any. Avoid helping in the nursery at church, and eventually your friends who are lavishing in the world of all things babyhood. It's a rough road to walk. But those of us who have walked it are not alone. It hurts. And sometimes it seems like you are the only person in the world walking this painful journey. And even when we are not alone, and have friends who are also trudging through the emotional land of infertility it still feels like the loneliest place in the world. 

The point is your pregnancy joy does hurt others. It's not anything you've done personally. But it does happen. And sometimes even worse happens, you lose friends over it. And that's the hardest part.  Hard because it hurts you too. Hard because you can't fix it. You  can't magically make their pain go away. You can't wave a wand, and voila she's pregnant too. You can't say anything to make it all better. And you can't make her maintain a friendship she's not able to at this point in the game. But you CAN pray for her and ask God to bless her with the desires of her heart. You CAN find a way to bless her. You CAN give her the space she needs and be ready to welcome her back into the friendship with open arms when she's ready. And God will bless you with more joy and peace than you expected. 

Life after pregnancy loss

It's been nearly a year since my last post. Not that I haven't wanted to write, but because I just haven't had much to say. Life has been full of ups and downs. The kids keep the hood of my van warm enough to keep chickens warm all winter. The whole country knows this has been a rough winter! My hair isn't turning too gray, too fast. And other than school with the kids, I've been training for a half marathon in August.

It's also been nearly three years since we lost Andrew. And while it's been a very long, hard road, I've seen God's hand in my life more times than I can count. Nearly every day I see healing in one fashion or another. I used to think that only when we were able to have another baby, would we then see real healing. I have learned that real healing begins when real living continues.

I had decided to start this spring off with a cold March race. Matt as usual joined me and left me at the starting line, running off like running is so easy for him. I personally am quite jealous of his running abilities.
He placed, I did not. It was cold, and we were running the outer edge of a still mostly frozen lake, up and down some hills, on a course I'd never run before. I was determined to do my best, and hopefully beat my treadmill time. And I was very grateful I had not started my period in the days before the race.

A few days later I learned that I am pregnant. Nearly three years, and I suddenly can't fit into my pants, and then I graciously throw up in front of a parent and her child from my tumbling class I teach. Surprise! Thankfully she's currently expecting, so no biggie! My mind has been racing all week. How will this pregnancy and new baby affect our everyday life? I haven't had a child in diapers for two years! We don't really have room in our house, do we? Will this baby make it? Do my breasts still hurt? Am I nauseated or just hungry? Or both? Do I share now, or wait until I'm at the twelve week mark? So in true blogger fashion, I will chronicle this pregnancy.

You see life, and a new pregnancy after a pregnancy loss, or still birth is not a life goes on as usual deal. There are more fears, worries, and prayers after a loss. But there is also joy, and thankfulness. And I couldn't help but thank God for allowing us an opportunity to even conceive another baby.

This week I had been debating, do I tell the whole world, or wait until it's safe? I've decided to lean towards caution a bit and only share with a few people. Don't get me wrong, I want to shout it from the rooftop what God has done for us. But I also want to just quietly enjoy this time. Most people want to share right away, while others choose the wait and see approach, knowing things could go wrong. Well knowing all to well that things can go wrong at anytime in a pregnancy, here is my thought. I want to celebrate this life growing in my belly no matter what stage of pregnancy or birth we get to. I want to rest in knowing that my Heavenly Father knows how to take care of this baby better than me, and no matter the outcome, I can rejoice that He even blessed us with another pregnancy.  Every child whether born full term, or lost in miscarriage deserves to be celebrated. 

Thanksgiving. A Life Of Thanks

Thanksgiving is right around the corner. You know, like TOMORROW! And it's snowing like crazy as if it's January. Kids are enjoying a morning of watching t.v. and laying in pajamas. While I, still in pajamas myself am typing away, doing grown up stuff.

I've enjoyed reading the thankful posts this last month. I love to see the joy in others hearts on Facebook for their friends, family, and anything else they have to be thankful for this month. I did somewhat participate in this 30 days of thankfulness last year, but kinda fell away from it mid month. Life gets busy and I lose track of the little things these days. And in the past I was generally a negative Nelly. So thankfulness was not really on my radar until recently.

I attended a women's retreat in October, that I really had no desire to attend, but got roped into anyway. I decided about a week before I needed to change my attitude and find a way to enjoy myself, and find a new perspective. I had never enjoyed them, and the last one I attended, two years ago, during the worst time of my life, was almost my last of everything. 

I will be open and honest.Two years ago, It was nearly my "due date" for Andrew. I was in so much emotional pain, and a gripping depression that I began to think the only way out of the pain was to end my own life. Yes this is shocking, brutally honest, and clearly I made it through the loss. Losing a child, is never easy. There is not one thing that can make the loss better, while in the middle of so many emotions. But THANKFULLY I made it through. 

Backtracking to this retreat last month. I went with a new attitude, determined to find something better about this retreat. I had this new desire in my life. A desire to find joy and peace in my life again. Only now a real joy that I knew only God could give. And I did. I went back to the same bench I had sat at two years ago, pouring my heart out to a God I didn't understand anymore. Only this time I was able to thank Him. Thank Him for the last two, hardest of my life ever, years. Thank Him for the short time I had carried my son, in my womb. Thank Him for the even shorter time we were able to see and hold him. Thank Him for the women in my life, and our church who had ministered to, and loved me, holding me up when I couldn't keep it together. 

You see I had no idea what this weekend was about, I had no idea that when I walked into the large meeting room late, (because I got lost in the dark, In the middle of Nowhere, Michigan!) that there would be a banner hanging above the fire place that spelled out the words E U C H A R I S T E O. Eucharisteo. It's Greek meaning has more than one word to describe it, Joy, Peace, and Thanksgiving. This weekend had God's work written all over it. We received a gift as part of attending the retreat, titled  1000 Gifts- by Ann Voskamp. I dove into this book almost right away before even getting home. I didn't know exactly what it was about, but knew it was calling me to read. This book is a challenge, a call to see, and be thankful in everything.  The challenge was taken, would I be able to Thank God in every part of my life? Was I thankful in the hard stuff? The easy stuff is obvious. But what about when a high fever causes a kid to puke all over the place? Or when there is more month at the end of the paycheck? Or when one child throws a huge tantrum over a broken toy? Broken washing machine? And think about it, WHY would I want to thank Him for the loss of my baby? The list goes on, but a life of thankfulness is part of finding peace and joy. Because God is in the little stuff. Even the hard stuff. Because giving thanks is an everyday opportunity, to grow closer to Him. Why am I now thankful for the loss? Because it has given me more compassion for other moms. Because now, that I have come to the end of myself, and begun this daily thanking, God can really begin a work in me. 

 I'm thankful in the little stuff of the day, that seems frustrating at times. I'm thankful for a great husband, who is amazing to our 4 kids. I'm thankful for these amazing 4 kids, that almost always find a way to make my day interesting. Thankful for the gift of writing and photography I had long forgotten about. Thankful for a cluttered house, dirty dishes piled in the sink, dirty laundry all over the place, clean laundry that still needs put away, marker all over a three year old's face and legs, paper scraps, a dirty car that never really seems to get clean. Thankful for that broken washer, piles of bills that will one day be all paid off, time with my kids, a needy annoying dog that brings joy to my kids faces, my fears, and tears shed over feeling I may fail one or more of my kids in this home school journey. Thankful for crabby children, for fresh snow on the ground covering leaves that never got totally raked up still in piles. And in this, thankfulness I can see God 's hand all over my life. And I begin my list, of thanks. Not just a month of thanks but a life of thanks. I am challenged by the author. My goal is to write my own 1000 gifts of thanks to my God. So far I am up to 78... Hopefully this next year will have a 1000 opportunities for Eucharisteo. Joy, Peace, Thanksgiving.

she's her own art canvas

cutting practice, think she got it as she cut her own hair

at ER with 104degree fever

pizza at the beach-family time

Ella enjoying reading! Giving up t.v. to read for fun!

Trusting God in the midst of infertility

For most of us women we remember where we were, what we were wearing, and who we shared the news with when we first found out we were expecting. For women who have faced infertility, we also remember exactly how long we waited to get that news. It feels almost like the stars have finally aligned and someone waved a "magic" wand reciting abra cadabra and suddenly you're pregnant! Not that I believe that, but there is a moment that feels magical.  We can also remember how much we had to place our trust in God for this miracle we worried may never come.

For me the "magic" number has been Two. Two long years we waited for Sam. Two more long years we waited for Sarah. And now it's been two years since we lost Andrew.

I remember praying and telling God that if we were only meant to have the two children we already had, that I would be content with that. It wasn't easy. I remember all the tears, crying, and laying my heart before a God I wasn't even sure heard me. Just a few weeks later I found out I was pregnant with Sam. His name has special meaning because it means "asked of God." I had just given away the crib. I had moved on.

Again when we decided to try for a fourth child, another girl, we had no idea what we would go through and that it would be another two years of waiting. We were finally told we probably wouldn't achieve pregnancy without a fertility specialist.  Two months later I sat in an exam room, dreading more bad news only to be told I was actually pregnant. I nearly fell out of my chair! I very well might have if the doctor hadn't given me a big hug! I had just given nearly every baby gear item I owned away! We had prayed and left it in God's hands.

After Sarah was born we were adamant that we were done. No more babies. It was just too hard waiting and trying for these babies. As the date approached for K to go to the urologist and have an initial appointment for the big V, I began to feel so much conviction. I felt God pressing on my heart. How could we as a couple who begged, prayed, pleaded, and above all trusted Him for our babies suddenly decide that we were going to take matters into our own hands and cut off the ability to have more children?

If He was really our God, and we put all our trust in Him, what gave us the right to take control of the one thing we'd learned we were never really in control of to begin with? So with that we decided the big V wouldn't happen. We decided we would trust Him for our family size. We were so confident that there probably wouldn't be anymore children. After two trips through the land of infertility that lasted two years each time, I wasn't completely convinced we'd have more. I wanted to believe God had healed me from this painful area of my life, and I chose to act as if I'd been healed. I also made it my mission to share the miracle God had done for us.

When we found out I was pregnant with Andrew, I then fully believed God had healed me and we would most likely have babies more often, and closer together now. I was preparing my heart for being a stay at home, homeschooling mom that drives a minivan, then a suburban, then maybe a 10 passenger van. When we lost him, I was confused, hurt, angry. I didn't understand what God was doing? We had placed our trust in Him for our family size! Losing Andrew was not part of the plan!

The last few weeks, I have been in a sort of countdown. Andrews birthday, and the two year mark has been barreling towards me like a freight train out of control. I can't stop it, and I can't avoid it. June 2nd will come, and there's not one thing I can do about it.

I'm now at a crossroads. We already know we will never do anything permanent to control our family size. But, it's been two years. One part of me wants to get rid of all my baby gear and move on with life. The other part of me wants to save every last thing because I'm so afraid I will then get pregnant after I get rid of it all. It's happened twice before, why wouldn't it happen again? I'm not holding my breath by any means. But if I get rid of it all I will then be faced with the anxiety provoking task of obtaining more stuff in order to be prepared if we do get pregnant. Or do I hold onto it until I know for sure there will never be anymore babies, and it's all rendered virtually useless by any decent, fashion forward mama? I actually tried to start going through stuff in order to get rid of it. I chickened out. It might be a longer process than I realized. Right now, I have managed to loan out my swing, and am searching for the breast pump to loan to another mom. Baby steps are in order at this point.

The biggest thing I am learning in this journey is that when I placed my trust in God each time, for my babies, I was trusting Him to know what's best for us as a family. He knows when and how many babies He wants us to have. He already knows how He wants our family to look like. Just because we are trusting Him to be in control of our family size doesn't mean we will be able to have all the children we want. It means learning to be content with where we are in this parenting journey and looking objectively at our current family size, realizing there are always reasons God says "No", or even "Wait," (We are seriously busy people right now!) I am learning that how many children we have is not as important as trusting Him to be Lord of our life. Every aspect of it.

My four amazing gifts from God

My love affair with running... And how it saved me

When I was a teenager I loved to run. I didn't play sports, but found a lot of peace in running. It seemed to help me run away from my troubles when I really couldn't run away.

 Nearly three years ago I ran my first 5k. I had just delivered our 4th child three months earlier. After nine months of no running, I couldn't wait to get back to the gym. So when Sarah was only four weeks old I bravely got back to the gym and began running again. I'm pretty sure I was supposed to wait until I was released by my Dr. But I just couldn't stand the wait any longer.

 I'd had an on again off again love affair with running for most of my life. It seemed to be mostly off again due to either trying to get pregnant, or actually being pregnant. After Sarah was born I felt pretty confident that I wasn't ever having anymore children so my love affair with running could be rekindled. 

The 5k went better than I expected. A friend of mine joined me and was such a great cheerleader, cheering me on as I ran ahead of her. (She's a keeper!) My time wasn't too bad. I think it was under forty minutes, and the last mile was on the beach. Running and I had just reconnected in a whole new way! 

Not too long after that school started. No more races for me during school. There was no time. The kids had school and sports and I did have that amazing little one to take care of. Fast forward to March of that year. I was running outdoors again since it was warming up. I was training myself for the next round of races coming up in the spring/summer.

However I had to stop because I had just found out I was pregnant again. I had never gotten pregnant while still nursing a baby. I was in shock but happy. A little bummed about no running, but it would be worth it.

When we lost Andrew just barely a few months later, I was lost. I had all these emotions, and no idea how to handle it all. So again, once I was released by my Dr I began running to help relieve all the pain of this loss. It seemed to be the only thing that helped. The last two years I've used running as a form of therapy. I had developed such an extreme amount of anxiety and panic that running was the only thing I knew to do that would relieve the symptoms when they arose. I often found myself running and walking as often as I possibly could. I also began seeing a therapist to help me understand all the emotions, and grief I was experiencing.

In the last two years, we have had some life changes. Mostly for the better, but they have affected my running affair. Not long before my original due date with Andrew, I left my job I loved, in a Kindergarten classroom. I became a stay at home mom again, with occasionally substitute teaching at my kids' school. Ken started a new job that requires an hour commute every day, but allows him to be home more. And in August we began our home school journey, which was intended for the three oldest kids and ended up schooling all four. We also began attending a Friday homeschool co-op. That's a lot in less than two years. 

But since August I have been so engrossed in school, that I have neglected my relationship with my running shoes. Don't get me wrong, I would run all day every day if I could! But I felt guilty for taking time for myself to run, when I felt all the pressures of wife, mom, and teacher. I began chugging nearly a pot of coffee daily, and rarely made it to the gym. We had a rough winter of sickness which made it difficult to get to the gym. And it seemed like every time I got back to running, one or more of us ended up sick again! I also gained some weight back that I'd lost in the last year. By February I was frustrated and had to find a way back to the gym and my beloved treadmills. Well my prayers were answered! I discovered that the gym down in Long Beach had been taken over by our local YMCA. I had a better chance of getting there than twenty minutes away at the larger facility!

I laced up my shoes and got back to it! I started back with my C25K app on my iphone. Thankfully I didn't have to start back at the beginning. It's been rough, but I felt somewhat ready for the upcoming 5K in our community. A week before the race I got sick with a nasty cold. I thought for sure I wasnt going to be able to participate, but kept running as much as possible with a hacking cough. By the Friday before I felt well enough to at least give it a try. I also managed to talk Matt into running with me. I had no idea he would pass me up and finish a whole five minutes sooner than me! That didn't help my ego much! If anything it only caused me to want to run more and beat his time.

We're nearing the second anniversary of Andrews death. All this time I've ran to relieve the pain of our loss. But things are changing. I'm healing. The anxiety and panic attacks are mostly all gone. I can now be in large crowds without worry that I will have an all out panic attack for the whole world to see. I'm getting better and stronger with my running. I don't seem to need to run for therapy as much anymore. I'm actually beginning to enjpy it as a regular part of life and exercise. Running saved me from a longer healing, or worse. It has been a more positive form of coping than I ever imagined. 

 The best part is that my family wants to join in on this activity. Sam ran nearly a mile and a half during our last family walk. Now he wants to run a marathon with me! I'm just hoping to be able to run a half marathon and survive! I'm also secretly hoping this love affair will rub off on my family! 

My first 5K with my cheerleader and friend Melissa

My second race, with a new running partner Matt

Mom of the year

Last Wednesday was an unexpected bad Andrew day. Two days before I put on my big girl undies and put the last bag of baby toys out in the garage. Sarah hadn't played with them in over a year! The next day I held my friends baby girl and rocked her to sleep. Holding babies doesn't bother me anymore, so now I actually enjoy it! Well I woke up Wednesday morning and realized I was an emotional wreck. I felt like I'd gone backwards by months. After all the emotional progress I've made it often frustrates me when I have these days. I know its normal, and these days will come, but its still hard. Some days I have faith that we'll have more children, and other days I tell myself that I will be so very happy if I never have to wipe a dirty bottom again! Wednesday was a day I felt the latter.

All day I was grumpy, emotional, out of sorts, and annoyed by all four kids and their sinful natures. I was beginning to feel like I was failing in my role as a mom and teacher. Not one of them wanted to cooperate with any of my requests. I heard "no" so many times that my head hurt and I was getting angry. For a brief moment I started daydreaming about sending them back to school. Who in their right mind would want any more children when these four were being so difficult?!

We headed to gymnastics and I was desperate for a few minutes of peace and quiet. I sent all the kids in while I sat in the van to make a phone call to my Momma Judy. My step aunt answered the phone since Judy was driving. I never really knew Aunt Betty as I was growing up but since I joined Facebook I have re-connected with her. What she said to me was much needed medicine for the day. She wanted me to know that she watches what I put on Facebook and she just wanted me to know that she thinks I'm "AMAZING!" I don't really remember much of what else she said, but I do know it had to do with my parenting. This was truly God using her because since losing Andrew I have heard that exact word over and over again.

I've spent my entire life trying to prove to the world that I am nothing like my mother was. I wanted to prove to the whole world that I am not Audrey, but my own person. I also wanted to be a better mom than she was able to be. I wanted to get it right the first time. And I didn't want to be judged harshly for making mistakes. Wednesday I felt like I was failing and God reminded me that I was doing okay after all.

Later in the day Ella came to me and gave me an early Mother's Day gift. It was a little bear that had writing on it "mom of the year". After all my mixed emotions that day it was another gift from God reminding me all my hard work is not going unnoticed.

I've been telling my therapist for nearly a year that there must be something wrong with me to want a large family. I was secretly worried she'd be brutally honest and tell me I had some major mental defect and surely I was a lost cause. Well thankfully she's not that brutal! Maybe I'm working towards mom of the year? Maybe I really am amazing?

Tears of Joy

Several weeks ago, before winter was "officially" over we finally had a big snowfall. It was the kind of snowstorm that parents dread and school age kids pray for. Parents dread looking for last minute childcare, and even driving in it. Kids are just excited to have the day off from school and play in the snow! When you're a home school family these things don't even phase you. You either continue with your regular routine, or declare a snow day. We chose snow day. Daddy was home from work that day too, as he didn't want to chance the nearly hour long drive in bad weather. My new motto has been to have a great time and enjoy these kids while I can!

The Lord had been speaking to my heart a lot lately about finding true joy. Not the kind you have when you find a sale, or eat a really great piece of chocolate. But the kind of joy that comes from deep within. Joy unspeakable. The kind of Joy that says "it doesn't matter what's going on in life we are going to enjoy life to the fullest". Joy is also a  fruit of the spirit (Gal 5:22). It seemed that every area of my life I was hearing about joy. T.V., radio, church sermon, and even in my bible study. God surely had something to say to me in this area of my life.

It's been nearly two years since we lost Andrew, and while there are still days that we talk about the what ifs, and wish he was here with us, life has really gotten back to normal. Something I didn't ever think was going to happen again. Not long after he died; we as a family all wanted something special to remember him by. So we all got a piece of jewelry. This is mine.

The day of the big snow I noticed I had a rather difficult knot in my chain. I wanted to get it fixed right away but needed Ken to do it for me. And since he was outside plowing the driveway I reluctantly removed the necklace. I never, and I mean never take it off unless I really have to, and only for a short time. You could almost say I'm obsessed with keeping it on. (I just realized that might be another subject for therapy!) I forced myself to go sledding with the family WITHOUT my necklace. After all I was determined this was going to be a great spontaneous snow day.

I have not owned any snow gear my entire adult life. But now that my older two are bigger than me, I have their hand me down snow gear! This is also the first winter in a long time that I could go sledding without either being pregnant, trying to get pregnant, worried I might be pregnant, or had a little one too small to take sledding. We all got bundled up and headed outdoors. Sarah is IN LOVE with snow. So there is never a problem convincing her to go out. She's out in the snow before I even get a minute to get ready. Sam had never been sledding before and was very excited to try it out. We played in the yard first and Sarah built her first snowman. Then after gathering all the sleds we headed to a local school that had a few hilly areas. I was expecting other kids to be there, but it turned out we were by ourselves. That is my idea of fun, because I still don't like crowds of people.

We trudged through the snow, passed the playground, and began making our mark in the snow so to speak. I was very excited to see how much the kids would enjoy sledding. I still had it in the back of my mind that my necklace was at home. I felt as if I had left one of our children at home. Strange? Maybe. But for a mom who has lost a child, even a necklace is like having a part of that child with you.

Then it happened. After several trial runs down the hill, Ken took Sam down the hill first. Sam was so thrilled! He laughed all the way down. And at the bottom he loudly proclaimed "that was awesome" I'm crying tears of joy!" Oh my goodness we laughed so hard! He was right though! A trip down a snow covered hill is little in some peoples eyes. But for a recovering family, it's huge! It really is the little things in life that matter. At that moment I realized this was the kind of joy God was speaking to me about. I can go on and live my life without Andrew, have joy, enjoy my family, and even leave the house without my little piece of him. And it really is okay to move on.

Tears of joy!

We all had a great time, even me!  Everyone took turns going down the hill. Sarah eventually got tired of the hill and decided the playground was more enticing. And afterwards we left soaking wet and headed to McDonald's for hot chocolate. It was a great end to a snowy day.

...God intended for good

We have been a houseful of sick people the last two weeks. The stomach flu hit quite hard. And by hard, I can only describe it in one way...Pizza vomit. I have spent a lot of these last two weeks feeling like I was in that episode of the Brady Bunch where all the kids get sick at the same time, and Carol and Alice are literally run ragged by all the needs  and sometimes demands of sick kids. I always thought that episode was funny...not so much anymore!

But on the bright side of it, we have been forced to stay home more than usual. We have had lots of movie, snuggle time. And even some great heart to heart talks. Which really have been all part of God's amazing time frame!

When people told me that Andrew's death would bring about something good in the end, I knew this in my heart. But as a grieving mom I just couldn't see if, when, or ever that could happen. I heard so many times from people "what Satan intended for evil, God intended for good". "Something really awesome will come from this".  All I could focus on was how devastated I and my family were. It was clear from the very beginning that Sam was having such a hard time with the loss of his baby brother. He would often cry and tell me he missed his brother. He would ask the typical questions like "why did he die?" "why did God need him in heaven?"  He drew pictures that included Andrew in our family. He once told Sarah that she couldn't sit in a car seat in our garage because "that's Andrew's for when we go to heaven to get him". We finally decided to seek a grief counselor for him. He just wasn't getting past Andrew's death.

I actually found some books on Amazon that I had meant to purchase not long after Andrew died, but forgot about them. Well they showed up on my Amazon page again. So I quickly purchased them before I forgot yet again! This week after Sam was finally feeling better, but still needed some snuggle time, I pulled them out and read them to Sam. They are books that help children understand pregnancy loss.  (We were gonna have a baby, but we had and angel instead) and (Something Happened)
The books are amazing and really mirrored so much of what our family has been thru the last year and a half. The part that was hardest was when we discussed the boy in the story who thought for some reason it was his fault the baby died. I first explained like the book that it's no ones fault. And that only God knows why babies die before they're born. I asked Sam if he knew it wasn't his fault that Andrew died. He shook his head no. I asked him next, "did you think it was your fault"? He shook his head yes. My heart broke at that point because for over a year and a half he'd been carrying this on his heart that for some reason he caused his baby brother to die. I quickly hugged him and explained again, that it wasn't his fault and only God knows why this happens. This led into wonderful snuggle time with Daddy and me, bible reading, and an invitation. 

We talked about prayer after reading about Daniel in the lions den. We discussed how prayer can change everything and that he could pray and ask God for healing even in his heart. We asked him if he felt like his heart had healed a little bit tonight. He of course shook his head and said yes. When asked which part, his response was "the left part"! What he was getting at was that he felt better that it wasn't his fault that Andrew died. We explained that he could have God to call on anytime he wanted. All he had to do was invite Jesus to come live in his heart. It was amazing! He was so receptive! He said he wanted Jesus to live in his heart and then let us pray with him! I was crying. Ken was crying. And the look of peace on Sam's face was so sweet I couldn't take my eyes off him! Having a chance to lead my own child to Christ is such a blessing. I totally didn't see our conversation going that direction. And I have to be honest and say it was all in God's timing.

The next day while spending my weekly hour on "the couch" I had a light bulb moment. I explained to my therapist the events of the night before. I never would've thought that the death of one of my children would lead to salvation for one of my other children. And then she said, how cool is it to think that a child who never took a breath on this earth, could have an eternal impact on another person!

So here we are a little over a year and a half past Andrew's death, and I can finally see that what Satan intended for evil, God intended for good.  I actually see it, and welcome it!

One of those days

My therapist refers to them as "bad Andrew days". And I've gotten used to thinking of them that way.
It seems like a lot of this week has been one long "bad Andrew day". As much as life has begun to feel normal again, I still struggle to come to terms with this part of my life story that God has written for me. And now I not only still mourn his death, but I also am mourning what could possibly be the end of our fertile phase of life.
I always assumed I would be able to get pregnant and have children whenever we chose. I've since learned that's not the case. We've battled intermittent infertility over the years, and when I found out I was pregnant with Sarah and then Andrew I honestly thought God had truly healed my body and we'd never have to go thru it again. Little did I know the battle had really just begun. A year and half later, and we've had nothing but bad luck and lots of frustration.
Maybe it's time to move on? Maybe more babies aren't part of Gods plan for my life? I sure wish I knew the answer. For months I've asked Him to take a desire from me that's not in his will. I hear all these stories from other women who knew without a doubt that they absolutely did not want anymore children after a certain number. I don't have that feeling. I keep thinking  that I must be the odd one. Ken and I both grew up in a large family. And to us that's just the natural thing to do, but how do you know what to do when what feels natural to you doesn't work the way you expect it? I don't doubt God. I'm not even mad at Him anymore. I'm not even bitter. I'm just trying to come to terms with the fact that possibly my plans aren't really His plans. I'm also coming to terms with the fact that no matter how much I ask Him to take this desire away from me, He may very well not.  I know this, God has a better plan. Even if right now it's very painful. 

Half Way There

I've been contemplating a blog about homeschooling for some time now. In the beginning I just wanted to write about all the wonderful things I am finding that go along with homeschooling. I will eventually get to that.
Today has been so relaxed. Most of us are bathed and dressed. And the ones who aren't have declared that they won't be dressing anytime today. Honestly that's probably one of their favorite parts of homeschool.
I am happy to report though that we have made it to the halfway point in our official school year!
This is exciting news because my last attempt only lasted six weeks, I sent Ella back to a regular Kindergarten class, and I went back to work. (In their school of course!)
My goal was to make it past the first six weeks. Then Thanksgiving and Christmas were my next hurdle.
We made it,with far less tears than I expected. (Most of them mine)

I really am so grateful to have a chance to reconnect with my kids, and give them an opportunity to keep their childhood as long as possible! Granted some days are better than others. Some days a kid or I end up sick and not much, if anything gets done. And some days are amazing! Like yesterday for example. We have a busy day on Wednesdays, gymnastics, diving, a trip to the gym for me, and some weeks girl scouts. Sam had his work with him, and for the first time EVER he took over reading and writing on his own! I love getting to see him grow academically! I love to see all of them growing.

It's days like this that I am so happy to see that my obedience to God has big rewards! And now we only have the second half of the school year to get thru!

Life is crazy some days, but these kids are totally worth it!

In Search Of...

If my current life was to be summed up in a newspaper want ad, I'd maybe write it like this...
Really cool mom; Yes REALLY cool, desperately seeking three very important things in life. Joy, peace, and contentment. Clearly these things cannot be found when searching the want ads. But it makes for a great conversation starter. And by conversation, I mean that weekly hour on the "couch".

After praying so long for my version of healing, I've finally come to realize that the way I've expected God to heal my heart, may not be the way He has planned. But before I get into that any further, let's rewind to a year and a half ago for the newest readers. June 1st, 2011. It was the day I knew I would probably get my ultrasound orders at my monthly checkup. I was nervous and excited all at the same time. Long story short. The ultrasound wasn't a joyful moment. It was the moment my heart broke into a million pieces. My baby didn't have a heartbeat.  The events of the next two days have finally begun to blur, but the heartache and memories are still there.

All this time I had told myself and God that I would be able to really have a complete healing when I was able to have another baby. Now that I've typed that last sentence, it almost seems ridiculous. I was once asked, "what if there isn't another baby?" Well then I guess it will be time that heals this wound. And time, it's moving at a snails pace most days. So for the last year and a half we tried to get pregnant again. With success, but ending up in another loss. My life had gone from blissful, to depressing. My days were spent at the gym, to try and release some of the frustration and anger that had come into my life. Therapist, which I only agreed to under doctors orders. And now also another Dr. since I now have a lovely thyroid issue to contend with. 

Last week I went into the therapist office, and very adamantly told her we needed to make a plan. No more trying for a baby! No more tears of frustration! No more disappointment in this area of my life! I need to find Joy and contentment in my life again. And maybe I need to add peace to that too, because I haven't felt that in so very long. If not for me, then at least for my kids.

Today we woke up late, couldn't get into a routine for school, and so I decided  it was a late day, and the weather is still warmish. I should try my luck at pictures in the park with all four kids! That, my friends is called bravery! I'd had their outfits picked out for weeks, but just couldn't get my schedule to match the photographers. So Super Mom decided to turn Amature Photographer!

It went surprisingly well! Pictures were great! They turned out so beautiful! I just can't believe my luck! The best part was that we were practically the only ones there! No crazy distractions, and no tears! After we were all done, I proclaimed it was time to go play on the playground! I was just enjoying the moment. Helping the six year old learn to swing. Trying to scare the two year old a little as she came down the slide. And not once did I hear fighting from the older two! They were all playing and having fun. Even the 12 year old! It was at that moment when I suddenly felt like the world was right again. It was the most beautiful, birds chirping, sun is a little brighter, life is good, the world is at peace moment I'd felt in a very long time. It was great!
About thirty minutes later I realized this was the first time we'd done pictures and hadn't included Andrew in some way. It didn't even cross my mind! And for a quick second, my heart screamed "Go do it all over again! You forgot Andrew!" How could I forget my other child? Clearly we didn't redo the pictures. That would've been torture for all of us! I had a momentary stab in the heart, but mostly I hung on to those moments of joy, peace, and contentment I'd had a little bit ago. It was the first real sign of healing I'd had. And I planned to hang onto it until the next one comes along. So maybe I can't find these things in a want ad, but maybe I can find ways to make them happen.

A Day To Remember

Today is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. Actually the whole month is, but all moms know that every day is rememberance day.
Every day I think of the babies I've lost. Especially Andrew since he would've been one this month. Every day I am reminded of the little boy I delivered and didn't get to bring home. Every day I think about what he would be doing now. I'm sure he'd be very close to walking. I'm sure he'd be drooling lots since he'd be teething. I'm positive he'd be spoiled by his older siblings. I  know that his sister Sarah would give me a run for my money since they would've only been 18 months apart! I also know he'd be a great source of joy to our family!
Every day I am reminded that there is an ache in my heart, where there should be joy. When I go out in public and see other little baby boys, when I see other expectant moms, when I have no choice but to see the baby section in a store, when I get baby mail, (You know the junk that tells you how old your child should be? As if I needed the reminder!)
I have to be honest and say that I had no idea there was such a day, or even a month until Andrew died. Losing him made my eyes open wide to just how frequent such a heart breaking event occurs in a womans life. It has made me more aware and more sensitive to other moms and just how deep that hurt is. While I always thought the typical responses, I never dared say them to another woman, and still won't. It's not only cliche, but it's also not always true. Here is a list of things that I've heard, and thought, but do not reccomend be repeated.

1. "It's God's way of taking care of things." Well yes God gives and takes away. True. It doesn't help matters. I've found that it only made me question God, and feel angry towards Him. I'm not claiming to be a perfect Christian, but even I have had doubts during my emotional roller coaster.

2. "You can try again." Sure you can. Month after emotionally exhausting month. Some women are actually lucky enough to conceive again right away and have a perfectly healthy full term baby. Others are not so lucky. It took us 6 months to get pregnant after losing Andrew. Then we miscarried right away. And now it's been nearly another year. I'm sure there are women out there who were never able to conceive again.

3. "Well just be happy for the kids you do have." This one sticks in my craw most of all. Who said we aren't grateful for the kids we have? For that matter, it's almost like saying the baby that was just lost really isn't a baby at all.  We love that baby the moment we see the test turn positive. That baby is also one of our kids. Oh and by the way, if the older kids were expecting a baby sibling too, they are also hurting, and confused.

4. "Try to stay positive and move on." Another sticky, irritating one. While every mom has a different grief process, she needs time. Time to cry, process, talk about the baby and the events surrounding the loss, and lean on a shoulder of a very caring friend. Even if you don't know what to say, ask questions. Let her know you care.

5. "At least it was early on." Well that just made it so much better! Not! Seriously, like I said before we love that baby the moment we find out the test is positive. Unfortunatly the earlier it happens doesn't always make it easier. It just means we don't always have anything tangible to keep to remember that baby by. Even an ultrasound picture would be better than nothing. Since Andrews death I've found I am always searching for something that would remind me of him. A necklace with his name, an ornament for the christmas tree, a figurine, and recently a garden stone for the garden we are creating, (Andrew's garden) are just a few of the ways we have made sure to include him as a part of our family. After all he will always be a part of our family. He is our child.

While we are quite aware that October is breast cancer awareness month, (you know the things moms use to feed their babies?) Remember it's also a month to honor the angel babies in heaven, and the mom's that God has asked to walk the painful journey of pregnancy and infant loss.

What is normal?

I've been "officially" a stay at home mom now for six months. I say that a little loosely because I have had many subbing days at the kids' school, and more recently a long term position at one of the public schools doing my old job. It was a six week position, however it only lasted two weeks. I thought that it would be a great chance to prove to myself that I was back to "normal". My old self. The Ginny who can do anything!!!

  I have this part of me that thinks I have to prove to everyone that I'm not just normal, I'm better at doing the normal mom/wife stuff. Because after all a mom who has 4 kids and can work full time, keep house, etc must be amazing! Right? I've heard many people say over the last several years that they are amazed at how I can do it. I often take the compliment and keep on doing what I do. They don't see the parts of me that struggle with the pain of fertility issues, and miscarriage. Or how much we miss Ken during the week because he has to work so much. Or even how inadequate I often feel as a mom. In the last year my life has been anything but normal. I spent months trying to keep a pregnancy going that was determined to fail. And when Andrew died my whole sense of normal went into a tail spin.

 The thing I've come to realize is that I'm not normal. I'm not the old Ginny who can raise a houseful of kids, work full time, meet my husbands needs, and keep an almost perfectly clean house. All the while repeating to myself "I am woman hear me roar". "I can do it all". "I can work full time and be a perfect wife, and mother". I often went home exhausted and after a day of giving my students all my patience, energy, and the best of any other part of me, I found that my own kids were getting my leftovers. That often meant cereal or take out for dinner. And a crabby, impatient, tired Momma. Oh and my house was never clean! The more I clean, the more a child comes behind me and leaves a new mess! The minute laundry is caught up, I find a new load waiting. And we won't even discuss the dishes!

So this is my new normal... Instead of welcoming a new baby to the family, I have to work harder to make sure my kids are doing okay. Instead of working, I go to therapy. I spend most of my days trying to figure out how to do some of my old "stay at home mom" routines that I forgot a long time ago. Instead of going about my day like life is wonderful, I question God about everything that has gone on, and is going on in my life. And I tell Him all day that no matter what I will still trust Him that he is taking me thru something important. I'm learning how to be the new Ginny, because I'm not sure when and if I will ever be the old normal Ginny.

Missed it

I finally broke down and called the cable company today to upgrade our cable. I had down graded a few month ago because I was trying to save money in our budget. Of course I lost my favorite channel. TLC is actually the only tv I really pay any attention to. I've missed the entire season of 19 kids and counting! I love their family, and dedication to their children! I was hoping to get to watch tonight because it was the episode when they told the kids they had lost baby 20. I often wonder what it would've been like to come home with Ken to tell the kids. I saw a little bit of how they must've reacted a couple weeks ago when they heard the news of the teachers daughter from school passing away so suddenly. It was a very hard day in our house. The kids all wanted to go to her funeral and they didn't even know her.
I can't wait to see the whole season even if it means I buy it. I have found myself very interested in how Michelle's pregnancy ended a lot like mine. Oddly enough even our pregnancy length was the same. We were both supposed to be at 19 weeks according to our cycle. However the babies were both right about 16 weeks. (give or take a few days.) I remember thinking to myself before Michelle lost her baby, what is she doing right that I'm not? Don't I love my kids enough? Have I not been a good enough Christian? Why did God allow this to happen to our family? We were following His lead in our life!!! But when Michelle lost Jubilee I had one of those Ah ha! Moments. God is no respecter of persons. He has His reasons for everything. I realized recently and was able to actually wrap my brain around this,
God didn't punish me by taking Andrew.
Satan couldn't steal him because he just doesn't have that kind of power.
All things have to go through the Father first.
And God did allow this to happen knowing that He would make something good out of something so painful. He knew I would recover and willingly take this part of my life and use it for His purpose.
When I get to watch the last episode of 19 kids, I'll let you all in on my insights. From one greiving mom to another. It will be a tearjerker I'm sure.

Busy busy!!!!

Wow so this last few weeks has been seriously crazy! Just when we thought things were settling down, a young couple we know lost one of their twin babies, a couple from church lost their first pregnancy, and another family we know lost their little girl who was only 2. It's been weeks of heavy prayer for these families.
I spent the better part of the last two weeks with a sinus infection and also doing some subbing at the kids school. Then Ken's brother Tom died very suddenly! That was such a shock. Keep him in prayer because it really is hard to lose a sibling so suddenly when you had no chance to say goodbye. One thing I have to say about this giant family I married into, is they love HARD, and they sure know how to pull together in tough times! I used to feel like I wasn't really a part, but just an extension. Since Andrew died though, they have really shown me that I am a part of this crazy Mosley family! And I love them all!
I also met with one of the core group ministries I'm part of at church. It's called the Moses Basket, and they minister to pregnant and adopting families. It's amazing and I'm loving praying for all these moms that are pregnant and are wanting to get pregnant! My part will be of course prayer, and passing along the Supernatural Childbirth book to other women. But the newest addition to the ministry is the remembrance box. I'm excited to use my heartbreak of losing Andrew to minster to other women, but hopefully it won't be very often. I've been working on writing my story and also making a book to share the different jewelry and little things that will go in a box for those moms who will need one. I never thought anything good would come from such an awful time in our life, but God is good and He always turns good from something bad.
With that said, I need to get back to work! I will share pics later. And also I am thinking about how I will write about Sam's views and thoughts about death. He's only six and has dealt with so much this year that it's normal for him now I guess.
 Love you all! Have a great week!!!

Settled in...finally. Maybe. I think?

I wasn't really sure how well I would take to being home again once the dust surrounding my leave/resignation settled. I new there was so much to keep me occupied, as well as keeping after a very busy little girl!
I began mostly by resting, giving Sarah lots of Momma attention, and going to therapy when the kids were at school. Slowly I dug into that once heard of task called housework. It occurred to me rather quickly that these people in my house are pigs!(I still love them despite their messes!) And the work never ends! Plus they eat all the time! I think I have cooked more in the last four months than I have in the last four years!


I'm also seeing that we are getting closer to the end of a very hard, long year. My grief process is getting easier every day. There are less bad days now, and more days of productivity, less tears, and more normalcy.  Some days I am painfully reminded that I don't have Andrew here with us. And then there are days that I'm actually a little relieved that I don't have two babies in diapers.

So now I'm spending most of my day with Sarah, occasionally subbing at the kids school, less time in therapy, more time in the gym, and as little time cleaning as possible! I'm settling into this idea of being a stay at home mom again. I do love it! Although this week I actually uttered that famous mom phrase of "I need to have some adult time!"

The Most wonderful six year old I know

 Yesterday I looked at Sam and I just couldn't believe that he was a day away from his sixth birthday. Why oh why does time have to fly by so quickly? I'm going to share some of my favorite things about him.
He has always been a very laid back kid. He rarely fussed as a baby, and totally rolled with our crazy life. He was very content to hang out and chew on his blanky. ( A disgusting habit I'm hoping he's ready to be rid of!)
When he was 2, he would say "Momma my fat fat hurts" to tell me he was hungry! We still smile and occasionally use that term to describe hunger in our house!
He is very compassionate. He loves all animals. I can often find him in his bedroom making makeshift homes for all his stuffed animals. They are also all named! When he was four he made it his mission to save every frog or "toady" he found. One giant frog had been in a bucket too long and I saved it's life by letting him go. Sam however was utterly crushed that the toad had "gotten away". Once he carried a loving stray cat all over the yard for days, claiming he was no longer allergic, as his eyes ran and snot poured from his nose. How could I disagree when he was so proud of himself? And after all the cat really was enjoying the attention! He even had an imaginary beagle named Jake, after our old dog Jake!
 I knew he was growing up fast when we switched gears from Bob the builder and Yo Gabba Gabba, to Transformers and Super Hero's. He is now crazy mad about Transformers! He knows everything there is to know about them, minus the third movie since we have decided he's way too young to see it.

He is loving. He never fails to rub the top of a babies head or plant a kiss on their head when one is near. He loves his siblings very much and often asks one of the bigger kids to play with him. He also totally understands Jesus' love for us.

He's funny! Sam has this amazing belly laugh! He cracks up at random antics that occur in our home. He loves to make up funny knock knock jokes! Sometimes they even make sense!  When taking a picture at the zoo this summer he stood in the face part of one of those carnival like cartoon drawings, and blurted out... "I've been a baaaad boy." The picture happened to have been a lion!

 playing video games with Matt

 Listening to sissy's music!

 Beloved Boo time

 Cutest ring bearer ever!

 Bird egg he found in the front yard.

 I've been a baaad boy!

First day of kindergarten!

He is amazing! He is the third child we didn't know if we'd ever have. I remember praying and asking God for him. His name means "asked of God". I got a call later that week from the Dr's office informing me I was actually pregnant! I can't imagine our life without him, and he has truly enriched our life as a family!
Happy Birthday to my sweet, compassionate, loving, funny six year old!

random thoughts

For some odd reason, it has been a very rough week. I realized this last week that I should have a three month old to keep up with. Actually I should rephrase that, A three month old to protect from Sarah! She seems to think she can do anything anyone else here does. And trust me she does her level best to keep up! Like a couple weeks ago when she pushed her chair up to the silver wear drawer to get a knife to cut her own strawberries! I sometimes think to myself that maybe God was protecting me from the exhausting task of trying to keep up with two under two! I might be skinnier if that were the case! Also we would've been a family of seven crammed into a minivan! We only bought this van a year and a half ago, but I'm already wanting to upgrade to a suburban!

In just a few short months Sarah will be out of her crib. That is of course if she doesn't figure out how to scale the side like a fence! And she will also more than likely be out of diapers. Once again I will be out of the baby stage, not really sure if we'll actually reenter it anytime soon.

I was reading devotions with Ella tonight and we read a portion that talked about how Isaac prayed and waited for Rebekah to have a baby for twenty years. And the devotion was teaching about how we have to wait a long time for something and that it becomes a learning time. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to learn from all this, but it sure feels like twenty years already!

Chosen

Where to begin...

I'm sure your interest is peaked by my title. I just finished the one book I have been searching for in the last seven months. I didn't really know I was searching for this book. I knew about this book, but wasn't really interested. I had no idea that this book was the one book that I needed. I have read so many books on miscarriage, stillbirth and infant loss lately that I had honestly become tired of the subject. I've gotten to the point where I just didn't want to talk about Andrew to anyone other than Ken, the kids, and my therapist anymore. My head just kept hearing from the rest of the world that it was time to move on. Pick yourself up by the bootstraps and get moving sounds like something my Dad would say. Be grateful for what I have isn't really what I want to think when I'm mourning the loss of my son who will never have "firsts" here on earth. The world wants me to move on because they don't know what to say, or how to say it. But who can move on like he never existed? He was a living, growing, squirming little boy that our family was so excited about. And I was chosen to be his Momma. Now, and later forever in Heaven
Angie Smith (her husband is Todd Smith of the group Selah) wrote this amazing book chronicling the birth and death of their daughter. I Will Carry You made me laugh and cry through the entire book! I knew I couldn't possibly be the only one who felt and thought all these things. She put it in a book!!!

I have so many times thought to myself, yelled, begged and pleaded with God wanting to know why He would make us go through something so awful. Why would He take my son? Had I sinned so badly that He was fed up?I had fought so hard to keep him! But you know it struck me suddenly when reading this book last night. God didn't do this to me. HE CHOSE ME! He knew that I felt so passionately for my children. All children. He knows that even though this hurts, that I will still fight to do His will. He knows that Andrew will have an impact on this world.
He knows that I won't back down from a fight. He knows that even right now when my heart hurts for the baby we miscarried just over a week ago, I will still go forward and in His timing do the ministry He has set before us. We will still let Him decide how and when our family will grow. I know now that God must think a lot of me to walk me through such painful times. And I know now that HE CHOSE ME!