Pause

I recognize that it's been awhile since I last posted.  Three weeks and one day to be exact.  Part of it has been that I've been traveling quite a bit this month and part of it is that I needed a break. Blogging has been extremely beneficial for my healing process, but it can also be exhausting continually opening myself up and exposing some of my most vulnerable feelings.  

I've really been forcing myself to pause more.  At home. At work. With God. If I'm being truthful, that sentence should actually say I'm trying to pause more.  I'm not always successful- ok, truth be told, most of the time I suck at it. But it doesn't mean that I'm not trying. The need to pause didn't come easy though.

After my last post I realized some things that started to cause me a bit of discomfort (as if I am not feeling a ton of discomfort anyway). It actually was January 2nd that I found myself smacked in the face once again, and I've had several of those moments like that one since.

My husband and I were invited to a friend's birthday party, we accepted the invitation and even went as far to invite some friends over to our house prior to the party. Sounds like fun, right?  It was, we had a great time but the whole night I couldn't help but realize that we didn't need a babysitter.  We didn't have to worry about who would watch Olive while mommy and daddy enjoyed a night out. We didn't have to check in with anyone or worry about her wellbeing that night.  

In fact, I haven't had to find a babysitter for the last 6 mos. We haven't had to worry about rearranging our schedules to make room for my business trips. I can stay out late on the weeknights and sleep in on Saturday mornings.

Nothing has changed.

But everything is different.

A simple birthday party, business trip or even just my daily routine - all of these things are constant reminders that my life doesn't look at all like it should right now.  At this point in life I find myself getting up, working out (if I'm lucky to be awake enough), heading into work, meeting with clients, going home, making dinner, chatting with my husband, reading and going to bed. 

The normalcy of my daily life was starting to make me feel like Olive was just a dream. You and I both know she was not a dream, but I'm honestly telling you that the past three weeks I've found myself having to search for reminders that she lived.  I have pictures in my house, on my phone and mental pictures that creep their way into my quiet moments throughout the day.  But I still found myself wondering how my life could feel this normal and yet be so incredibly different. 

The nursery is packed up. I wasn't crying myself to sleep every night.  I wasn't even smelling her blanket every night- not because I didn't want to feel close to her, but because I was exhausted.  

I was tired of hurting. I was tired of not hurting. I was tired of dreading the questions and then, when they came anyway, I was tired of answering them.  I was tired of being strong and I was tired of being a mess.

I needed pause. And that's exactly what God gave me.

Early on after Olive passed away I found myself in this same spot- wondering if she was a dream.  I beat myself up day after day, sabotaging my good days because I didn't think I shoud be having them. The months that followed were gut-wrenching. I was a mess, a ball of emotions that didn't know which way was up. I would cry out to God to save me, to give me some relief. I just couldn't take it.

I have tried, as I'm sure you can tell, to re-establish a closer relationship with God. While my blog has been such a huge part of my healing, sharing my most vulnerable feelings with God is what I really needed to focus on the last three weeks. As I mentioned, I had been praying for relief and when I really stopped to think about where I would truly find it, I knew in my heart it was to take a step back from my blog and to make time each day to spend more meaningful time with Him.  

In the spirit of honesty, I was dealing with some inner demons too.  I've been battling jealousy, hurt feelings and a constant anxiousness regarding some thoughts about what our future family looks like.  These feelings were consuming me. I knew I needed to shift my focus off of myself and back to God. 

It's taken awhile. I'm still broken and sad.  I still have days where I'm confused and consumed. Most days I still don't know which way is up. But there is a new kind of peace.  An honest to goodness peace. And hope. Two things I haven't felt in awhile. 

A long while.

In addition to spending time with God each day I've been reading a book by Lysa Terkeurst, Becoming More Than a Good Bible Study Girl, and there was a chapter that really spoke to me. It helped me to see that I needed to stop asking why all the time. "Why me?" "Why now?" "Why not this?" You get the picture. Story of my life, I tell ya.  

She has a chapter entitled "When God Hurts My Feelings" that talked about her sister's death. Her words reinforced my need to pause, and to continue to pause every day for the rest of my life. 

"In most situations, nothing positive can come from whatever answer there might be to a why question. If God gave us His reason why, we would judge Him. And His reasons, from our limited perspective, would always fall short. That's because our flat human perceptions simply can't process God's multidimensional, eternal reasons. God describes it this way. "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,' declares the Lord. 'As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts higher than your thoughts'" (Isaiah 55:8-9). We can't see the full scope of the situation like God can; therefore, we must acknowledge that His thoughts are more complete and that He is more capable of accurately discerning what is best in every situation."

She went on to say, "It takes time. Even when you love God and believe in His promises. Even when you know without a doubt that you will see your loved one again. Even when you know hope is still there. 

It takes time. 

It takes wading through an ocean of tears."

"It takes prayer. It takes making the decision to stop asking for answers and start asking for perspective."

"The why questions have been replaced with truths from God's word. Verses that stung to read at first have now become the very lifeline you cling to. God's presence has fallen softly upon you and helped you see that good can come and will come in you and through you." (Emphasis added)

Tears fell from my eyes when I read this. I needed pause and pause was what I began to do. What a difference it has made.  I'm happy to be back to blogging. I'm hopeful that I can get back to this part of my healing journey and that my words can be used for good - in a way that gives glory to the One who has give me pause and peace.

New Year, New Me

One year ago today I was roughly 10 weeks pregnant, preparing to go out and celebrate the new year with my husband.  I was probably just waking from a nap so that I could make it until midnight.  We enjoyed a nice Mexican dinner out (because that's what I was craving my entire 1st semester) and went to see a favorite comedian downtown. One year ago today I had big plans for 2014 - it was going to be "our year", we were planning to go on one last big trip and then the rest of the year would be dedicated to our growing family. One year ago today I was naïve to what my 2014 would really look like, my head was clouded with the blissful innocence that comes with pregnancy and the uncertainty of what motherhood would bring to my life.


Now that I've had the whole year to reflect on, it's bittersweet to be honest. I've actually been thinking more about the new year than I did about Christmas.  For as much heartache that we experienced this year, I'm a little sad to see 2014 go.


This year started with a fun announcement to family and friends that we were expecting Baby Smith, an announcement that many had been waiting years for! We traveled to Arizona for Spring Training as we normally do - except this trip we found out that our extended family was growing too!  Then we came home and found out my sister was pregnant, and later we would find out that my sister in law was pregnant.  Other friends and family would also make big announcements along the way - what a fantastic year to have a baby!


May brought us a much needed trip to Belize, a "baby moon" if you will. My husband and I explored the island, reconnected and enjoyed some peace and quiet before baby.  As I layed in bed last night thinking about that trip I was reminded of the amazing food, the kind and congratulatory people we would meet along the road who would exclaim, "congrats, mama!" as I would waddle by with my growing belly. We hit the 30 week mark while we were there - 10 weeks until we'd meet baby.  In reality, 10 weeks until we'd also say goodbye.  I think of the sweet mama-to-be that I met on the flight from the island to the mainland, she was due in September.  I wonder what she had, and if she remembers me the way I remember her.  She'll never know that my baby didn't make it.


We were honored by family and friends who would shower us with love, gifts and well wishes.  They helped to put finishing touches on our nursery and made sure our shelves were stocked with all the necessities we would need to welcome this sweet child.


Then the day we had been preparing for - the day we became parents was finally upon us.  A terrifying and amazing day all wrapped into one.  I got to watch as my husband became a father, I immediately fell deeper in love with him and my heart grew a million times bigger when they laid that baby on my chest.  I had dreamt of a daughter my whole life, and here she was!  Just as quickly as she came into this world - she left us to go be with Jesus.  In 36 short hours I went from being a mother to being a bereaved mother. In the first week after my daughter was born I had watched her struggle to breathe, held her as she was carried off to the angels, purchased the only dress she would ever wear and said goodbye to her as her shell laid in a casket. 


Not the warmest welcome to motherhood, that's for sure.


Yet 5 months later I sit here thinking about how our life has changed because of her. My faith has been rocked to the core, yet never in my life have I been so committed to God, knowing He is truly the only lifeline I have from this life to the next. There is only one way to see my daughter again - and that's through the One who gave us both life and has been in control from the beginning of time. My marriage is stronger than ever, I can honestly say I love my husband more today than I ever thought possible. For as much heartache as Olive's death brought, I wouldn't trade that small amount of time with her for anything (well, except maybe for more time with her!) If God asked me today to do it all over again, I would - if it meant that I got to be her mom.


The same friends and family that showered us with love and gifts before baby have opened their hearts to us yet again - this time in the form of love and prayers.  The amount of people that Olive's life has touched literally brings me to my knees.  Friends near and far have rallied behind us, showing us a support that I honestly never knew existed.  You, dear friend, whether I know you in person or not - whether we've been friends for 30 years or 3 days or have never even met - you have touched my life in ways you will never know.


My "friends" list on Facebook and Instagram looks a lot different than it did one year ago today.  While it saddens me that many of these friends are in my life because of our angel babies, I'm also honored and privileged to know them and be a part of all of this with them.  I know that sounds weird - and don't misunderstand me - I would never choose to be a bereaved parent over one that isn't; but if I have to be a part of the "club" I'm honored and so incredibly humbled that I get to go on this journey with the people I have met.  It's almost as if there are no words - well, there aren't - to explain the sense of community and identity that I feel from some of these women (I shouldn't discriminate - the dads are pretty amazing too!).  Each and every one of them has experienced a pain and heartache that can't be described - it can only be felt, and each one of us feels it differently.  I pray none of you will ever have to feel this pain - but reality tells me that someday, some of you may and I'm thankful that there are resources and support to see parents through it.


So even though 2014 brought a lot of sadness and grief, it was also the year I became a mother - and that changed me - forever.  Watching 2014 make it's way out the door saddens me because at least 2014 feels familiar.  It might not be a good familiar, but I know what I'm working with right now - I know where my heart is, I've gotten accustomed to the pain and even though lugging around a heart as heavy as mine is exhausting, it's become who I am.


When I wake up tomorrow it's almost as if I'm being forced to move on - which I know isn't a bad thing, but I don't know that I'm ready. While I have hopes and dreams for 2015, I'm leaving myself open to the will of God, and trying to remind myself of my new motto, "His perfect will in His perfect way." My prayer for 2015 is a prayer for wisdom and discernment, a prayer for strength and peace, a prayer that I'll be able to continue to see the hand of God in everything.  I also pray that you continue to join us on this journey, that our story helps to open up the closet that infant loss hides behind and allows us to begin a new conversation. I pray that we all can open our hearts a little more, that we can be vulnerable together and that love will lead the way.


Blessings for a healthy and happy new year - thank YOU for the incredible love and support you have shown our family in 2014.

Family Photos

Before Olive was born I prepared, like any good mother, for how I would announce our baby's birth.  I saved coupons as they came across my email for all of those popular online photo shops, I intended to splurge on sweet announcement cards that would tell the world of our son/daughter's birth, and I contacted a former high school classmate to schedule ahead our newborn photos.

The announcement of Olive's birth did not happen as I had planned.  Rather than beautiful cards adorned with a sweet newborn in a cute crocheted hat, our announcement came in the form of a Facebook post indicating that while our  adorable newborn had made her way into the world - she, just as quickly, was about to make her way to heaven. What a whirlwind those days were. That was five months ago. 

A couple of months later that dear sweet friend from high school reached back out to see if my husband and I were ready to have that photo shoot.  It wouldn't be the shoot we originally anticipated, but it turned into exactly what we needed. 

I wanted to find a way to incorporate Olive into our annual Christmas card photo. To take it even further, our wonderful friends at Tony Just Photography asked if we would be open to an idea they had. When we left the hospital the day Olive passed we were given a box of her belongings. There wasn't much, but the little we do have are now some of my most cherished memories. I find myself going through that box most nights, smelling her blanket, holding up her gown to see how little she was and running my fingers over the mold of her feet. 

While many mothers have nightly rituals of brushing teeth, tucking in their little ones and saying prayers - my nightly rituals involve closing my eyes, breathing in what's left of her and asking God to, in whatever way He's able (since I don't know how it works in heaven) to allow my kisses and love to reach her. 

We met up in early November on a sunny fall day. They started by taking some stunning photos of the two of us and then we moved to a nearby park so my husband and I could have some privacy while we went through Olive's belongings. 

Tony and Vicki found a way to capture my husband and I in some very intimate moments remembering our daughter. Since I can't possibly send each and every one of you that kept us in your thoughts and prayers this year a Christmas card, I wanted to share some shots from our first family photo shoot. 

I have no idea how one goes about capturing the essence of a family when 1/3 of the family is in heaven, but I'm certain we all felt her presence that day. I can't thank them enough for their amazing support, and for giving this grieving mama beautiful photos to create an album that will help ease the pain on days my heart feels the heaviest. 

To you, dear friends, the love and encouragement you've shared with us is incredible. This holiday season especially - the notes, messages and packages you've sent have warmed my heart more than you will ever know. 

We wish you a beautiful and blessed Christmas filled with hope, love and peace. 

The Wrong Baby

Whew, December sure has hit me with a vengeance!  Between the dark evenings, gloomy skies and colder weather - my mood has been less than cheerful (to put it nicely).  If I thought I was feeling sorry for myself before, self-pity has taken on a whole new level this winter.


I sent out my Christmas cards today, and I really struggled with it this year.  I wanted to find a way to appropriately recognize Olive in our holiday photo and also acknowledge those that have shown us so much love and support.  As I was designing them I found myself feeling down that other families were busy picking out photos that would be just perfect this year and I was struggling with how to sign them. Something so simple, yet so heartbreaking.


Before we had Olive, when we were trying to decide on a name, I would find myself writing out our family names to see how they would look, to see what fit: With love, Charlie, Nicole and Olive Smith
Yet, the moment finally came where I needed to sign our cards and I realized that we would forever be The Smiths or The Smith Family - I will never send out a card with our children's names on it. The only way I know how to include our WHOLE family is through a generic signature.


No matter how many more children we have, our family will never feel complete. 


For Christians, the season of Advent is one of preparation.  We are preparing for the birth of a Savior, the birth of a King - the birth of a baby.  It's not just the birth we find ourselves preparing for, though, it's His return - when, in all His glory, He'll bring us all home to Him in heaven.  Every year I find myself rushing through Advent - in the hustle and bustle of our society's version of the Christmas season - and every year I get so overwhelmed that my soul ends up feeling underwhelmed.


This Advent was going to be different.  Or so I had intended.


Lucky for me, the season is still here and even though I'm a bit late to the game - I'm vowing to practice the stillness my soul is longing for.


The birth of a baby is a beautiful thing, isn't it?  Those times are times of great anticipation, times of great joy.  I had expected the birth of my baby to be all of those things and more.  I had expected this Christmas season would be one of wonder and promise.  It is, indeed, but I've been focusing on the wrong baby.


Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that I don't want Olive on my mind (not that I could control it if I wanted to) but she's not coming back.  I will never know baby Olive the way I intended, the way I thought that I would. No amount of longing for her will ever bring my soul rest - not the rest or stillness it desires.  In fact, the longing I feel for her actually brings me more sadness, more grief and more disappointment - because the longing will never be fulfilled.  If, at least for this Advent season, I put as much time, effort and emotion into longing for Jesus - well, I can't even imagine what that could do for my soul!


It's not just Olive that I'm allowing to rule my heart and mind this Advent season - the birth of other babies, the birth of my unborn babies, babies that are new to our family and babies that will soon be here - these babies are on my mind so regularly it's actually become debilitating.  I've become so focused on these other babies that I've failed to recognize the ONLY baby that matters right now.


For a child will be born unto us, a son will be given to us; And the government will rest on His shoulders; And His name will be Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Eternal Father, Prince of Peace. Isaiah 9:6


Here is a baby that can offer exactly what I need - and more.


Wonderful Counselor - I have been seeking advice from other grieving parents, from my therapist, my pastor, my husband and other friends.  While this advice is helpful, no one has the exact answers I'm looking for. True counsel comes from God, from His son who came to this earth in human form to offer us salvation. The Spirit of the Lord will rest on Him - the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of the knowledge and fear of the Lord. Isaiah 11:2  As Pastor John Barnett puts it, "true wisdom from the wonderful counselor knows that: In weakness is strength; surrender is victory and death is life." I need to pray more - to be quiet and still and allow God to reveal Himself to me - that may be through other people, it may be through His word - I haven't really been giving Him the chance lately, and I need to be better about that.


Mighty God- I have learned that I cannot bear this burden on my own. I am certainly trying to- and failing miserably. Who am I to question God? Who am I to demand answers? Why do I think that anyone on this earth can offer me the strength and peace I need? Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and His understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. Isaiah 40:28-31  The maker of the universe is available to me 24 hours a day 7 days a week, and yet the amount of time I'm actually seeking Him out - honestly trying to connect to Him - is pathetic, to be frank.


Eternal Father -  Parents often find themselves not giving in to every desire of their children. Sometimes beautiful lessons have to be learned through pain and heartache. Children tend to believe that they know better - their parents are being unfair or unkind.  How many times have I looked back on a decision my parents made and later realized it was for my own good?  Please don't mistake me in thinking that I believe God is "teaching me a lesson" or that Olive had to die for God to prove a point.  No, that's what our human minds would like us to assume - but Olive's days were numbered just as mine are. For some reason, unknown to me in this life, Olive's sweet life was always meant to be short. I do believe her time with us was meant to serve a purpose, although unfair to us, God - in his infinite wisdom - had other plans. I can choose to get stuck in her death or recognize the beauty in her life - and the lessons that can be learned from it, if I only open myself up and allow God to reveal himself to me in this way. Now glory be to God! By His mighty power at work within us, He is able to accomplish infinitely more than we would ever dare to ask or hope. Ephesians 3:20NLT


Prince of Peace -  Peace - what I long for the most this Christmas season.  I have been searching for peace, and the few times I believe I'm starting to find it is when I'm at church or searching God's word for answers. Then I go back out into the world and allow myself to believe the lies that I would be at peace if only I had my daughter back.  I begin to believe that true peace on this earth would be living a life that goes according to what I wish - a life without pain, a life without sorrow, a life where all of my heart's desires would be fulfilled.  Interestingly enough (though not a life I could ever create for myself), my daughter has the peace I desire.  Olive is celebrating Christmas this year only knowing a peace we all long for.  Olive's first Christmas is with Jesus - what is more peaceful than that? Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. John 14:27 I need to remember that true peace comes from God and I can rest assured that one day I'll be celebrating Christmas with my beautiful baby and the baby who saved us both!


I've gotten a lot of grief this year for not having anything on my Christmas list.  What I want this year cannot be purchased at a department store and Amazon doesn't have it in stock.  What I WANT this year is 4 month sleep regression, piles of laundry filled with sleepers covered in spit up and early morning feedings. What I long for and NEED this year is counsel, strength and peace - and those things can only be received through one tiny baby - not my baby, not your baby, not my unborn babies or the babies you long for in your life.  No, these things come from the one baby we tend to forget most -a baby who was born into poverty to a young and terrified mother - a mother who knew from the very beginning that her child's sole purpose on this earth was to die so that we could live.


I don't doubt that my holiday will still be filled with sadness, grief and pain - but I hope and pray that through those human emotions I can make more room in my heart for the truth and promises that come from a small manger in Bethlehem. 

Facing Life - Head On

Thanksgiving is over - just like that, and now we move on to Christmas.  The holiday season always seems to be so rushed and overwhelmed, but this year even more so.  My husband and I host Thanksgiving each year and this year was no different, even though I questioned whether it would be a good idea or not.  I had my moments, for sure, but overall I think I needed to stay extremely busy that day in an effort to not fall apart.


That morning the turkey that I had purchased fresh was now partially frozen.  I scrambled trying to figure out how I was going to get it thawed in time, go to church and still make sure that dinner would be ready around the time I told everyone we would be eating.  I did what came naturally - I called my mom.  I needed advice, and it was about the third time I had called her in the past day or so - "How many pounds of potatoes do you think I need?" "Should I put this turkey in warm or cold water to thaw?" "Can you bring me this? I forgot to get it at the store."  You get the drill.


When I hung up that morning, already full of emotion, I couldn't help but cry.  Olive would never need me like this. She would never host Thanksgiving at her house.  I'd never get a frantic phone call wondering if the turkey would be done, if she had the right ingredients for something or be able to reassure her that everything would be perfect. 


The day brought many moments like that.  Having my newborn nephew in the house felt strange at times.  He is the first baby to come to our home since losing Olive - it felt natural and unnatural having him there - I longed to hold  him and then when I would my heart would feel heavy.  We put together these fantastic care packages for families who will be spending their holidays in the NICU this year - but even as good as it was to help it still didn't change the fact that I'd rather have my daughter here.


Later that weekend we dragged out all of the decorations and began trimming the house for Christmas. When did it become December?  How can it be that 4 months have already passed?  One would think that grieving gets easier with time - but I've found the exact opposite to be true.  In two days time I have successfully decorated my house for the holidays, packed up the rest of the nursery, gotten invited to my first baby shower since attending my own, been asked (for the first time) if I have children and later today I'm attending bible study where a woman and her baby (born the exact day as Olive) will attend as well.  Talk about an emotional rollercoaster. 


The difficult part is how I feel about all of this.  My house has never felt emptier, I have no idea what gift to buy off the registry - especially since I just packed similar things away just days ago, had to make a stranger feel awful when I told her I had a daughter in heaven and have no idea what emotions will trigger when I see a baby that is the exact age my daughter should be today.  Do I run away?  Do I not go to any of these things? Some days I dream of just waking up and buying a ticket to anywhere - packing my bags and just leaving.  The problem is that though I may physically leave, I still carry my brain and all it's baggage wherever I go.  So I face it - head on.. 


And it sucks. 


In the words of my friend Missie, "major suckfest".


So, here I am this morning - a typical Tuesday for most - but one that I'm trying not to let debilitate me.  Every day is like this - not knowing the challenges of the day, what twists and turns will come - will it be a good day or a rough day? I'm sure this is all a normal part of the grieving process, and I don't share these things for sympathy or to make anyone else feel badly about something they say or do around me.  I share these things because that's what I said I was going to do when I started this blog.  I share because it's how I'm feeling - and even though you may not know what to do or say to make me feel better - it's OK. It's not your job to make me feel better, but it is my job to face each new day and anything that it brings.  Life still goes on - baby showers occur, babies are born and I get asked simple and polite questions about whether or not I have children.


Some days I face it well and some days I don't - I just ask that you be patient with me and understand that it's all a part of the life I'm facing.  I try and live it gracefully - but then I have nights like last night where I sit and cry in a McDonald's parking lot over French fries and a coke (after a workout - don't judge). One minute at a time turns to one hour at a time which turns to one day at a time.


Go to sleep, wake up, repeat. 


I know there are brighter days ahead, I truly believe that. Heck, I've even experienced some of those days - but the holidays - the holidays are going to be hard, much harder than I think I even anticipated.  Think of this post as a head's up of sorts - just know that my heart is broken and there is no amount of holiday cheer that can unbreak it.  I know many of you will try - and for that I am eternally grateful, but please know that the best thing you can do for me this holiday is just let me feel what I need to feel. There are bound to be awkward moments, emotional moments and maybe even angry moments.  I don't know how to do this - or do it well - but I'm trying.


And some days trying is just surviving.

An Attitude of Gratitude

Late last week a friend posted the following on Facebook: Stop and take the time to be thankful in the very moment you are feeling ungrateful.


Sadly, when I read that, I was feeling ungrateful that my day wasn't going as well as I had hoped.  In all honesty, I've always tried to live life this way - but have needed the reminder more often.  So, I was thankful to that friend (even though she had no idea I needed to read that) for sharing that reminder.


I've been using this phrase and replacing the word ungrateful in different circumstances.


Stop and take the time to be thankful in the very moment you are feeling angry.
Stop and take the time to be thankful in the very moment you are feeling depressed.
Stop and take the time to be thankful in the very moment you are feeling impatient.
Stop and take the time to be thankful in the very moment you are feeling sad.
Stop and take the time to be thankful in the very moment you are feeling guilty.
Stop and take the time to be thankful in the very moment you are feeling weak.


The holiday season is approaching and many of my friends are preparing for "firsts" with their new babies.  I would be lying if I told you that the flood of holiday photos with sweet little babies wearing Santa hats and darling dresses didn't make my heart hurt.  I'd be lying if I told you that every time I "liked" one of those photos on Facebook that it was an automatic click of the thumbs up button for me.  Truth be told, I often have to scroll through those statuses/photos a couple of times before I go back and like them.  It's not that I don't actually like them, but envy begins to set in and I have to remind myself that the baby is really cute, the picture is really sweet and it's no one's fault that I don't have a baby of my own to post pictures of.


Stop and take the time to be thankful in the very moment you are feeling jealous.


Gulp.


My husband and I have hosted Thanksgiving for quite awhile now. It has become my favorite holiday and I love having my whole family together.  Growing up, since my parents were divorced, I often had to spend my holidays traveling back and forth - from one side to the next - only getting a short amount of time at each stop.  Between my parents, my grandparents, my step-parent's parents - there were so many people to visit! It truly brings me so much joy to have my whole family under one roof!  It's the only holiday I get this, and I live for those moments.


I love the week preparing for Thanksgiving.  I enjoy doing all the shopping for the meal, preparing the meal, watching holiday movies, starting to listen to Christmas music, getting goodies for the service project we always do and then ending the week trimming the house for Christmas. When I was pregnant I would try and imagine what this holiday season would be like with a baby. 


Would I finally allow people to bring side dishes so that I wouldn't have to do as much?  I was secretly excited for an excuse to sneak up to the nursery to rock the baby to sleep in the midst of the holiday hoopla. I pictured myself sitting in the rocking chair, the door closed but the holiday chatter still loud enough that I could sit back and enjoy the laughter from a silly joke that my grandpa told or hear the roar of the group when someone scored a touchdown. Then, after everyone left and the house was quiet again we'd build a fire, put on some music and watch our little one become mesmerized by the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree.


No, the holidays won't be anything like I imagined it to be this year. Being thankful can take some effort sometimes, can't it?  I've struggled quite a bit these last 4 months to find things to be thankful for.  Yet there are many things, right in front of my eyes - each and every day - that I have to be thankful for. It's often just remembering to "stop" long enough to reflect on them!


I am thankful for the support of so many family and friends - the constant outpouring of love is still so appreciated.  I hope you all know how very much I love each and every one of you and keep you in my prayers.  I am thankful for a supportive work environment - co-workers who understand that Mondays are therapy days and I'm still a work in progress.  I am thankful for my amazing therapist, who I look forward to being with and feel a thousand times better after I leave her office.


I am thankful for this incredible group of mothers I found on Facebook - women who were strangers but a year ago and today have become one of my greatest support systems.  Mothers who respect me, encourage me and give me hope for the future.  I am thankful for my midwife - a woman who took care of Olive and I for 40 weeks and kept me calm (and still keeps me calm) in some of my most difficult moments.  A woman whose door is always open to me (what other practitioner would invite you to her hospital room after SHE had surgery so that you could just come hang out and vent?). 


I am thankful for the network of parents we've met through Children's Hospital, other bereaved parents that have reached out  and new friends that I'm certain will become lifelong friends because of the bond we share.  I'm thankful for my church family - especially our incredible pastors who remind me weekly (sometimes more) that they are continually praying for my husband and I.


I am thankful that I've got the energy and motivation back to start taking care of myself again - and for special people in my life who are helping to keep me encouraged in my physical needs. I am thankful for my sweet neighbor and her friends who have welcomed me into their bible study and keep me encouraged in my spiritual needs. I'm thankful for a God who looks past my weaknesses and the "what's in it for me" attitude I so often have -  a God who loves me and reminds me that things don't have to be so complicated.


I am thankful for my husband.  I am more in love with him today than I ever thought possible.  He is patient, kind and forgiving.  Lord knows I haven't been the easiest to live with the last 4 months (4 years?), but he understands that we grieve differently. He doesn't bat an eye when I don't know what I need, what I want or what I'm feeling.  He's doesn't change my radio stations (even though I know he'd rather listen to rock than Christian rock), even if he needs something he doesn't interrupt me if he sees I'm reading my bible and he only rolls his eyes once when he comes upstairs and sees I'm watching a cheesy Hallmark holiday movie (hehe).  I am thankful when he opens up about Olive or shares a song that reminds him of her.  I love how many date nights we have set up in the next month and that whether we're out in public or hanging out at home we find ways to reconnect and prioritize each other.  He truly is my best friend.


I am thankful for our little lovebug that made us parents.  Olive was a baby who was in our hearts and on our minds long before she was even conceived.  She was the perfect answer to our prayers and I am so thankful that she is our firstborn.  Her life has taught me more about myself than I ever knew possible.  She brought my husband and I closer and our families closer. Her life helped make friends out of strangers, and God continues to amaze me at the beautiful miracles he's allowed from both her earthly and heavenly life.


Stop and take the time to be thankful in the very moment you are feeling happy.
Stop and take the time to be thankful in the very moment you are feeling strong.


So whether I find myself sitting in my car screaming at the top of my lungs, laughing with my husband, feeling green with envy as I scroll through Facebook or feeling accomplished after a hard workout - I'm trying to stop and show gratitude in each of those moments.  It doesn't happen every time - (remember when I said I was a work in progress) - but it's happening more frequently, and I really can see and feel a difference in my attitude.


Stop and take the time to be thankful in the very moment you are feeling anything.

To Whom Would I Go?

One year ago tomorrow I found out I was going to be a mother.  I awoke from the most peaceful dream that I had just delivered a healthy baby, and knew that would be the day.  I had been anxiously testing for a week or so before that - but I would never get discouraged at all of those negatives, I knew that month was the month.  That morning, November 21, 2013, my feelings were confirmed - I was going to be a mother.


Looking back, I wonder if I would have reacted differently if I had known that I would only get 36 precious hours with my daughter. I mean, none of us are guaranteed any specific amount of time on this earth, right?  But we assume.  We assume that our children will outlive us, that we will outlive our parents and that our parents will outlive our grandparents.  When things happen "out of order" it throws us for a loop. 


Which brings me back to my question - would I have been just as joyful knowing that God needed parents for Olive for just a short time on earth?  Would I have fallen to my knees giving thanks to God that morning if I had known that my role as a mother would not be like my friends?  If I had known that my days of motherhood would be filled with tears and grief and heartache - what would I have done?


I'd like to tell you that I would have been just as happy - praising God for blessing me with the honor of being chosen as her mother, regardless of the time I got with her.  I'd like to tell you that I would have worshiped and praised Him for thinking me worthy to have any time at all with that sweet baby.  But I can tell you that wouldn't have been true.  I would have thrown up my hands, I would have wailed and bargained with Him.  I would have spent more time throughout my pregnancy dreading my due date instead of enjoying the little moments, the sweet flutters, kicks and hiccups.


Earlier this month I had begun experiencing emotions that I haven't felt in awhile.  Month 3 brought me to my knees - literally - but again, not in the praising and worshipping sense, more like the "why me" sense.  I have been angry and overwhelmed this month.  I have taken on more than I can handle - trying to return to "normal" faster.  Saying yes to everything, trying to fill my time with more obligations - trying to make myself feel needed and wanted.  I felt, when Olive died, that I had lost my identity.  Everything I thought I was supposed to be was no longer, so I attempted to return to my pre-Olive life in an attempt to make things fall back into place again. Month 3 came and I felt like I had hit rock bottom - like things were out of control again. 


How did I get here? 


How did this happen?


I often think of Job - a man who literally lost everything, and yet in the midst of it all, faithfully replied "Shall we accept good from God and not trouble?" Job 2:10 NIV


If I had known that my life was going to be where it is right at this exact moment I would not have been as faithful as Job.  I'm still not as faithful as Job, and my problems aren't nearly as severe as his were. I am trying - really hard to be more accepting of my life -to take these burdens and bear my cross faithfully, full of hope and trusting that God will fulfill his promises to never leave me or forsake me.  Even in this. I'm tired, I'm empty - but I will never stop trying to be more faithful.


Someone recently asked me how I can stay so committed to following God in all of this.  It's interesting because not being committed to God was never an option for me, it's never even crossed my mind.  I have doubted Him, I have questioned Him, I have believed at times that I could have done a better job than He - but I've never, not for one single second, considered a life without Him.


I'm reminded of Jesus' ministry when he was teaching and preaching - telling people things that were hard for them to understand, things that didn't seem to go along with how they thought things should be.  Many people began to turn away from him, as it was easier to believe this Jesus-guy was kind of strange - talking about taking his body and blood and being the bread of life - crazy-talk, right? 


At this point many of his disciples turned away and deserted him. Then Jesus turned to the twelve and asked, "Are you going to leave too?"
Simon Peter replied, "Lord, to whom would we go? You alone have the words that give eternal life. We believe them." John 6:66-69 NLT


To whom would I go? 


Who else do I have as an option?  Myself? My husband? My family, friends or therapist?  Of course these people are great listeners, offering advice and encouraging words - but none of them can offer me the opportunity to see my daughter again.  Not a one.  There is only ONE way for my little family to be reunited someday - and that's through this crazy Jesus-guy who takes me down paths I don't understand and does things I don't always agree with. Paths where I think I know the way and then He makes us take a sharp left when I was trying to go right - reminding me both of His love and His control.


So - here I am on November 20, still tired, still broken and still sad - slowly allowing the empty parts of my life to be filled with the hope and promises of God. My hope is that tomorrow I'll be able to wake up remembering fondly that cool November day that I got the best news of my life. Instead of a heavy heart - I am going to have a joyful heart and praise Him just as I did that day, exactly one year ago.  Praise Him for giving her life, for choosing me to be her mother and for taking good care of her until I'm able to see her again.


*The title of this post is taken from a devotion I recently read, The One Year Book of Hope by Nancie Guthrie