Tinged With Sadness....

...that's what you'll find if you search long enough for a synonym of bittersweet.

A word that I use entirely too much, but don't really have anything else appropriate.

Tinged with sadness doesn't cut it, though...today has been drenched in sadness.

But also with so much thanksgiving.

A very, very sweet woman sent me something shortly after Matthew died. I've meant to write about it, and just cry every time I try. She had read in my blog that I was having a hard time listening to and singing to music--so many words seemed so significant and really, as significant as they were, they hurt and I couldn't listen to them or choke them out. However, certain lines from certain songs just kept running through my head...at THE * MOST * APPROPRIATE times...right when I needed to hear them. I heard them when I ventured to turn my radio on; I heard them as I went to sleep; I heard them in the middle of the night...I just couldn't get certain songs and words out of my head. This sweet woman reminded me that Matthew had loved music (oh, how he LOVED music!) and that she felt God was ministering to me through the words in those songs. She told me that God was talking to me, and that as I was in such a hurt place, His words were coming in the very way that had been so special to me with Matthew. She sent me MercyMe's Youtube video of their song, "Gotta Keep Singin'" and told me that I needed to keep listening and singing. For me and for Matthew.

Honestly--the day I got that message was the day I made sure my radio was always on...forced myself to sing in church even when I was crying, crying, crying through each line...found words that spoke to my soul and felt encouraged that they were from God Himself.

So today...this morning...going to church knowing that I have a sweet little brother or sister inside of me, I was just so thankful and grateful to God. And all the music mirrored that. We sang God of Wonders, This is the Air I Breathe, Forever (God is faithful) and It Is Well.

Every single one of those songs are on my iPod--songs I played in my car throughout my pregnancy and sang to Matthew all the time.

Oh, I was crying this morning...but singing. The words so spoke to me. From This Is The Air I Breathe--after Matthew died and I sang that, I broke down every time--crying because I WAS desperate for God...lost without God.

It Is Well...the version I have is a beautiful, beautiful a capella version and I just loved the purity in the voices as I listened and sang with Matthew. When he died, a special group of women put together the most amazing memory album...with the theme being, "It Is Well." I marveled at how those women could have NO IDEA how meaningful that song was to me...and yet, there it was...permeating this album...and admittedly, breaking my heart.

It was NOT well with my soul.
My son was dead.
My miracle was gone.
My heart was crushed.
It was NOT well with my soul.

But I desperately, desperately wanted it to be.

Today, 168 days after Matthew died, I was able to sing the words. All of them. Crying, but singing. And feeling that whatever is to come with this pregnancy will be well with my soul. God has been breathing for me for 168 days...He has sustained us and continues to do so. And though if I am really, really honest, it still isn't entirely well with my soul. I still want my son with me this very second.

I just have faith that one day, it will be.

On the way to Matthew's memorial, I cannot tell you how many songs played were songs that were on my Matthew playlist--songs that I played all the time and sang to Matthew throughout my pregnancy. God of Wonders, Thy Word, Forever, Awesome God...all songs Matthew heard his whole life. I sang and sang and sang. And then burst out crying.
John thought I was crying because we were on our way to his memorial but that wasn't it. I cried because I found it so amazing that all of these songs were playing and had been all morning. And I realized that these songs were playing because Matthew's brother or sister needed to hear them. I needed to sing these songs for Matthew's brother or sister. And I did. And will continue to do so.

Matthew's memorial was so precious. It was truly heartbreaking as the purpose was to memorialize babies...little ones that barely lived.

It was so evident, though, that in their little lives, those babies had touched so many people--and Matthew, though he was only at Georgetown for a few hours, was no exception. One of the two doctors who took care of Matthew that night was there! She remembered John, and embraced me like I was family. I thanked her for taking care of my sweet little boy and she told me she was honored to do so.

This woman came into John's and Matthew's life 168 days ago...in the very late hours of the night into the early hours of the morning. John and Matthew touched her heart. She remembered how long Matthew was. She remembered his big feet. She remembered how shocking his situation was and she remembered how long and hard we'd tried to bring a child into our lives. She told us she hoped we would be able to have more children and we told her we were expecting. She, and all the other staff who were there, truly couldn't have been happier for us.

She started asking all kinds of questions--"Where will we deliver?" "Why would we do a scheduled c-section prior to 39 weeks?" "Do we have appropriate monitoring in place?"

A true doctor at heart! There was no, no, NO reason for us to consider any hospital but St. Mary's. Labor and Delivery there have the best reputation for miles around, and I can now personally attest to the fact that it is a well-earned and deserved reputation. The need for a NICU was the farthest thing from our mind--he was healthy, happy and I was OVERDUE! Of course we could never know if a NICU would have made a difference, but several doctors, and now Dr. Ramesethu have suggested that we take no chances.
We are so torn.

Dr. Sweeney said between 37-38 weeks because he doesn't want me to get anywhere near to my water breaking. Personally, if the baby is healthy and ready at 37-38 weeks, I'd rather her be out sooner too. Dr. Ramesethu said that may bring problems we don't need necessarily have to have. Again, torn....but trust that Drs. Sweeney and Shonekan and Polko and Davis will do NOTHING that would not be safe...so we'll leave that to their decision making.

Do we have proper monitoring in place? YOU BET. I told Dr. Shonekan that I actually thought I would be able to relax a bit with this pregnancy because I knew I'd have so many OTHERS worrying for me! We go in for our 6 week ultrasound a week from tomorrow, and two weeks later we go in for another one and graduate from Shady Grove. Two weeks after that, we'll see our OBs and two weeks after that, Dr. Sweeney (unless I can talk him into letting us come sooner!)...from that point on, I'm thinking frequent visits will be in order. Proper monitoring is DEFINITELY on the agenda.

I plan to write a letter tomorrow to let Georgetown know just how priceless that service was. And I KNOW that my Matthew was there with me...at the front of the chapel, there were several little stuffed animals. A little bunny, frog, elephant, duckie, lamb, bear...and a BIG stuffed Monkey. Talk about twinged with sadness.

It has been a long day...as evidenced by this long post. And really, I didn't even scratch the surface of the things going on in my head today...because all of this went on as I carried around another precious miracle.

How is one to make sense of all of this?

One isn't. More and more presents itself simply as surpassing all earthly understanding.

Thank you, Lord...for the blessings of today and the grace You gave.

Mother's Day 2010

Wow.

I have been blogging since February of 2008 and I have not written a post on Mother's Day yet. Probably because Mother's Day hurts. It reminds me of my own mom not being here...as she died 7 years ago in April and I can't even remember if I spent her last Mother's Day on earth with her. I'd imagine I did, as she had just been diagnosed with Stage III breast cancer and I drove 12 hours round trip many weekends during the year she lived after her diagnosis...in fact, as I recall, John and I drove down and redid her bedroom for her--painted it a light lavender (still have that color on our paint tarp) and tried to make it comfortable for her.

For 10 years, it reminded me that I was STILL not a mother. In 2008, I was of the full faith and belief that I WOULD be a mother in 2009---to a sweet little girl named Emma, and who would be born in Krygyzstan. Though I believed it, I still didn't claim Mother's Day as it wasn't mine yet.

Last year, I OWNED Mother's Day! It was FINALLY, FINALLY mine!!!!!!! When the mothers were recognized in church, guess who stood up with her baby belly? YEP! ME! And cried, and cried, and cried some more with a thankful heart for the miracle of the baby growing inside of me. I can't believe that I didn't write about it, though I wrote a little bit in Matthew's journal. I think even then, maybe a teeny part of me was still holding her breath....waiting for THIS year when I actually had a sweet little one cooing up at me.

If I didn't know better, I'd say that maybe, some little piece of me still wasn't sure it was real.

And then today...what to write about for today? Actually, I already wrote something for today but I am not going to post it.

It is sad. It is full of the cemetery and longings and should-have-beens and a broken heart.

And though that's how today has been for me, I absolutely, positively will not let it end this way. We went out to Mom's this weekend for Mother's Day (another reason I will not post what I wrote earlier because I titled it, "What use do I have for Mother's Day?" and I am thankful, thankful, THANKFUL for the precious mother I have in John's mom. If for only her, I have a TON of use for Mother's Day.) and I was resigned to the fact that I was probably going to miss Katy and Kristie's radio show. I had seen my RSVP thing on Facebook and it said 4pm. We were en route (with HORRIBLE traffic, to boot!) at that time. I figured out how to stream the show on my phone (totally thinking when I heard Kristie say at 4:16, "Well, we are almost up for time," that some how I'd gotten the times REALLY wrong and then realized I was listening to the archived 1st test show--where I heard Andrea and Belle!) but couldn't figure out how to get the 'live' show and gave up. Imagine how HAPPY I was when I remembered, "CENTRAL TIME!" and we got home in time to give me 45 minutes with the show! (Oh, how I love Central Time--soooooo miss Central Time!)

Today's topic was Facing Firsts...and honestly, I don't think that this being the first or eighth or 34th Mother's Day without Matthew would make any difference to me....they are all days without my mother or my only child. Hence, not great.

But the support!!! The support!!!! The chat room that goes on while the show is heard is amazing! And eye-opening.

All day, I have been getting emails and texts and Facebook messages (in addition to cards and flowers galore) telling me how much I am loved and being thought of and reminding me that I am a mother. Not to mention that I have been smothered with love this week...and I use smothered so, so affectionately.

And I have to be honest when I say that each time I read something that said, "Lori, you ARE a mother," I had to sort of giggle--like I would forget that!! In fact, I sort of wondered why so many people would make such a big point to tell me such. OF COURSE I am a mother. I know that! Why would people be so adamant in their messages to me? Honestly, I found it sort of...well, definitely endearing, but a little odd.

Being in the chat room for the radio show turned the light bulb on. People want me to know that because the world seems to forget that if you don't have a child to show for it, you must not be a mother.

Further, if you didn't have a full-term pregnancy, you must not be a mother.

More, if you didn't even make it out of the first trimester, you CERTAINLY can't be a mother. Heck....it was probably only tissue or had something wrong that you wouldn't have wanted to continue growing anyway. (SERIOUSLY...people offer that as COMFORT. If you ever have, DON'T again. If you know someone who has, DON'T ever let them again.)

At least the rest of the world feels that.

MY world doesn't.

MY world loves me. MY world sends me encouragement in spades. MY world gives me Mother's Day gifts and cards and love. MY world cries with me and for me. MY world prays for me and tells me so. MY world surrounds me like a cocoon and fiercely protects me from anyone in the rest of the world who dares hurt my feelings or not give honor to me or to Matthew. MY world includes a husband who'd do just about anything he could to make this easier for me. MY world has a church that has shown more compassion to our family than I ever expected a church would. MY world is full of doctors and nurses and who treat us like family. MY world has support systems that others only dream about. MY world, though shaken to the core, is still a safe place for me because of the people in it.

MY world is, for the most part, amazing.

And I am so, so, so sad that there are women all over this country, and world, really, who have broken hearts and don't have the slightest idea of what it's like to live in MY world.

I cannot imagine what my days would be like without the support and the compassion and care I have. And yet, so many women don't have to imagine....they live it.

They are forgotten by their own husbands or mothers or best friends.

Their children are not even remembered, which I can say is nearly as bad as actually losing one's child.

They are beautiful women with wounded hearts and they suffer so often alone.

Save for those of us who sadly and all too intimately know....

So, I have not been able to post Happy Mother's Day to anyone here or on Facebook for several reasons. Mainly because I know so, so many women whose babies are in Heaven and it might take me all day to get to each of them, but also because I've sort of wanted to just forget that Mother's Day even existed.

Of course, the people in MY world would let that happen. I am much loved.

Yet so, so many other women would consider it a luxury to simply hear their little one's name spoken or to be given a hug and told, "I know this must be a hard day for you."

Friends, make no doubt that today has been a very, very difficult day for me. Probably one of the hardest in a long time. (I always seem to say that, don't I?)

But...my cup runneth over. I am grateful, from the bottom of my heart, to each and every person that loves me and supports me...whether over the computer or in real life.

Thank you, Thank you, Thank you....

Dear Lord,

You must know how hard I am trying.
You must know how much my heart hurts.

Please, Lord, I beg of you...please wrap your arms just a teeny bit tighter? I feel like I'm falling off the edge, just out of reach. Please, Lord, I am trying to hold on for dear life.

I know you talk to me through certain songs.
I know you talk to me through dear, dear people--I know those have to be your words.
I know you talk to me when I am quiet, and staring...looking out the window as I think about how desperately I wanted to be rocking Matthew in that chair.
I know you tell me that you have good things planned for me.
I know you tell me your plans are for me to prosper and not to afflict me.
I know you tell me that your heart hurts for mine and everything is working for my good.

But Lord...I can't breathe! The blanket is so heavy and dark and I can't seem to get out from under it.
I'm afraid....you tell me those things, but you also tell me that it's hard.
You tell me that I'll be tested and tried.
You tell me that to die is to gain! I can't wrap my head around that.
You know death stings and I am trying to live through it.
You know I had NO doubt that my baby would be fine...and in that faith in you, I didn't savor that touch of skin. I didn't hold onto it longer. I didn't know that was all I would get. I believed you promised him to me. I believed you told me about him and promised him to me. Lord, I believed you. I believed there would be more...and there wasn't. If only I knew...

I did believe you. You know with every fiber, I did. I told every single person in that hospital you ordained him and he was going to be fine.

Lord, how could I have been so wrong? I am afraid because I believed with every inch of my being that you had come to me, promised him to me, and assured me he would be fine--I'm afraid I don't even know how to hear you or feel you if I was THAT wrong...Friends tell me I walked around like I was invincible and I felt like I was because I had YOU on my side! You tell me that if you are with me, who can stand against me???? You tell me that there is a strong man, but you are stronger....you tell me you knew the days of Matthew's life before they were written but I don't understand!!!!!

You didn't plan what happened to Job. You tell me you didn't. You tell me that you were propositioned, you offered an answer to that proposition, and you allowed it to be tested. And you were proven victorious because you are righteous.
But you planned for the strong man to question you and ask you to test your servant?
I do not understand, Lord.
I do not.

I am weary.
But Lord, I am here. I am at your feet, begging you to bring the peace you promise...the peace that surpasses understanding.
I'm begging you grab me tighter. There's too much slack in the rope, Lord...please, pull tighter.

And know my heart, Lord...please know my heart. Know I will promise to praise you every day. Understand if the praise is something I may have already praised you for because I may struggle remembering all there is to praise.

Lord, thank you for Matthew.

Thank you for letting John meet him, look into his eyes and hold his hand...to have his hand held back.

Thank you for making me a mother. The world may find it easy to not acknowledge that fact...and they may not understand when they in good faith and pure heart ask you to make me a mother and give me a child, they forget that I AM a mother and I HAD a child. They love me, and hurt for me, and it's so, so easy to forget those things when all I have are some pictures, a lock of hair and a pendant close to my heart but no child in my arms.

Thank you for women who let me cry and laugh in the same two hours.

Thank you for letting me remember I love to laugh.

Lord, I beg you to continue to convict my heart. It's my reminder you are who you say you are.
I'd prefer peace, but conviction works too.

Thank you for letting me cry to you.

Thank you for not letting me have a nervous breakdown today.

Thank you for so many people who lift me and love me.

With much love Lord,
Lori

A positive challenge UPDATE

Isn't the way God works amazing? Just the day after I scoured my heart for positives (still doesn't sound exactly right saying that) in these last weeks, I got such a blessing today. You can read all about it (and still donate to such a worthy, worthy cause) at John's site. Be sure to congratulate him and Julie on the birth of their beautiful and precious grandson, Jonah!

Friends, if you honored our sweet baby boy's memory by making a donation for this, I just don't have the words to thank you. Please know how touched we are.

Click below to go to John's site:

Act of Kindness: Going for the Gold!

Faith.

I guess, or at the very least hope, that faith is what this year has been about.

I started it with faith that we still could possibly adopt a little girl from Kyrgyzstan, but knowing that it probably wouldn't happen and to build our family, we'd need to have a few other plans in place.

One of those plans required more faith...faith that God would finally bless us with a miracle and that the miracle of modern medical intervention would help. Friends, that faith was hard, after so many, many years of disappointment. Though some days it may not have seemed like it though, faith was what I had. Faith that I was destined to be a mother. Somehow.

When we found out we were pregnant, I had faith. Faith that it would be ok. Faith that God ordained this baby and faith that He was nothing less than a God-given answer to years and years of prayers.

When we found out about his kidney, I was scared, but I had faith. Faith in what the doctors said, faith in what I read, and faith that still, God had given this child to me and it was going to be ok. And it was.

When he seemed too small, I had faith. Faith again that Dr. Sweeney knew what he was talking about and all would be fine. Faith that if I just took it easy, continued to eat well and focused on nothing but growing and nourishing Matthew, he'd be healthy and happy. And he was.

When we were in the hospital, I had faith. I had faith that I was in the care of incredible people and that I was merely hours away from the most incredible gift--finally, kissing and holding Matthew.

When Dr. Shonekan realized something was wrong, and they were wheeling me in the OR at warp speed, I had faith. I prayed to God, out loud and for each hand that touched my body--each person who was contributing to bringing Matthew out and each person caring for him. I prayed God would guide their hands and lead them to success. And He did.

When Matthew was born, and the room was eerily quiet and they were doing CPR on Matthew, I had faith. I kept telling John, the nurses, the doctors, myself--anyone who would listen--that Matthew would be fine. "He'll be fine." "He's going to be fine." "He's a fighter. He's strong. He's God's child. He's going to be fine. He's ordained. He's going to be fine." But he wasn't.

When they brought him into my recovery room before they put him in the helicopter, and the Georgetown NICU doctor tried to tell me that my baby was very sick and they were going to try some procedure, I barely listened because I had FAITH he was going to be ok. She didn't know what she was talking about. He was going to be FINE. I felt it with every inch of my body. When I touched his face and his shoulder, and felt the softest skin I'd ever felt, I had faith that there would be some issues we'd have to face, but he'd survive and I was ready to check myself out of the hospital that minute to go up to Georgetown with him and John.

When mom and Connie came in and told me that John had called...and it wasn't good...I felt like I had been literally ripped apart and stabbed with burning pokers. And I felt, right then and there, my faith...gone. Shattered. Destroyed.

I wasn't even bitter, yet....more stunned. Totally and wholeheartedly STUNNED that this had happened. My faith had moved a mountain, I thought, and THIS was how it turned out? Absolutely unacceptable to me. Period.

And yes, the questions began. But not the ones everyone thought I was asking. I wasn't asking, "Why?" I wasn't asking, "Why us?" Not even curious about the reasons this happened. No...my questions were bigger, harder, scarier and worse. "WHERE?" "WHERE ARE YOU GOD?" "WHERE ARE YOU????????" "WHERE IS MY BABY?" The thought I hate the most? "I don't even know if you are real. All these years of belief...all these years of living for what I thought was YOU and I don't even know if you are real. And if you aren't, then Heaven isn't. And if Heaven is, where is it? And WHERE ARE YOU?"

This is what some might nonchalantly call a crisis of faith, but to me, it's so much more. It's the difference between life and death.

So, the days and weeks that I've been living recently have still been riddled with dark and scary questions and I feel like, for my own sanity's sake, I have to try and answer some of them before I close this book. These thoughts may ramble, but humor me and skip them if you like, as they really are for me to remember and look at in dark minutes and times. I have this picture in my head--that this is all a test...a test of whether or not I'd hold to the promise I made to God. He called me on it, and He's now seeing how I react--and I'm embarrassed and ashamed of myself so many days because I doubt I'm doing as I promised Him I'd do. But in this picture, it's about a year from now, and I am able to look back at these days and see God SCREAMING at me, "HERE I AM." So that's what I'm working toward...friends, please pray that I am able to find this success.

• One of the first 'signs' that God may have sent was when we went to pick out a site for Matthew's burial. We looked at a couple of places, and then mom said, "Well, look...there's a butterfly. That must mean this is the spot." Butterflies hold a special place in my heart, for I always think of my mom when I see them. But to see one, on a cold November day...it was like my mom was saying, "Yep, this is a good spot."


• Of course, the 'angel wing' at church on Matthew's funeral was a big one.


• The first person I told I was pregnant was Hannah Pratz, our school nurse. The first person I saw when we pulled into the parking lot for the funeral was Hannah Pratz. I have not seen her in months, yet she was the first person I saw.


• The church was FILLED with people...people I knew and didn't. God's army of angels in full force.


• A special woman who lost several children, and who I thought had a different purpose in our life turned out to be a Godsend and comfort to me. She sent me a precious bracelet the morning of the funeral, and I realized our paths and worlds were even smaller than I thought.


• As I said, I asked John for days, "Where is Heaven? Where IS it?" One day, randomly, John brought home a book one of his co-workers (another Marine, and let me tell you how truly humbled we have been by the amazing and faithful support of fellow Marine/Navy families) gave him...it was Randy Alcorn's 'HEAVEN'...as if God wrote me a note Himself.


• The Saturday after the funeral, I still was asking "Where is my Matthew? Where is Heaven?" and lo and behold, a beautiful dish garden was delivered and was from some dear friends of ours. Inside, there was a beautiful angel statue and it said, "Angels are always near to those who are grieving to let them know their loved ones are safe in the arms of God." God telling me Matthew was safe in the arms of God.


• I picked up Hanging on To Hope by Nancy Guthrie. I have had this book for years. I've started it and stopped it. Never got past a few pages...but the week Matthew died, I picked it up, restarted it, realized that she lost not one but two babies and her book was meant for me. I never even realized her grief was like mine...in all the years I've had the book. John and I now do her daily devotional before we go to bed.


• In her introduction, Nancy mentions that her sister-in-law had suffered tragedy and Nancy had asked how she got through it. "Manna" was the answer...God provided her daily manna. The next day, John and I were in Chick-fil-A and he went to the restroom while I waited in the lobby. There, in a stack above the trashcans, were several newspapers. The title? MANNA...Good News From Heaven. Seriously, how often do you hear the word Manna, much less in two different days and situations?


• I also read another book a dear friend sent, A Grace Disguised. One day I came to the part where he said he chose to believe in a bigger picture. I was moved by that paragraph, and before I went to bed, changed that to my FB status. Then, when we went to bed and did the devotional, Nancy's devotion for the day used the term, "the bigger picture" with regard to God's plan and how we fit in it. John even said, "Don't you see that as a sign?"


• People email or call or send a FB message at EXACTLY the right time. Constantly. I'm just amazed...


• A good friend sent me the perfect Bible verse: John 11:40--Did I not tell you if you believed, you would see the glory of God? He sent this after my FB status was "Lori Ennis is surrounded by angels." I made that my status because I received a blanket from old friends at a special school I used to teach at...randomly and lovingly sent by people I haven't 'seen' in years but are still part of a legion of angels God sent.


• Today has been a rough day. Driving home from my appointments this morning, I just cried out to God, "I'm TRYING! I AM TRYING, God....don't you see how desperate I am? Don't you see how desperately I am trying to believe, have faith and glorify you? I AM TRYING, God...I AM TRYING."

What song comes on, less than a minute later? This, by Kutless:

What Faith Can Do
Everybody falls sometimes
Gotta find the strength to rise
From the ashes and make a new beginning
Anyone can feel the ache
You think it’s more than you can take
But you are stronger, stronger than you know
Don’t you give up now
The sun will soon be shining
You gotta face the clouds
To find the silver lining

I’ve seen dreams that move the mountains
Hope that doesn’t ever end
Even when the sky is falling
And I’ve seen miracles just happen
Silent prayers get answered
Broken hearts become brand new
That’s what faith can do

It doesn’t matter what you’ve heard
Impossible is not a word
It’s just a reason for someone not to try
Everybody’s scared to death
When they decide to take that step
Out on the water
It’ll be alright
Life is so much more
Than what your eyes are seeing
You will find your way
If you keep believing

I’ve seen dreams that move the mountains
Hope that doesn’t ever end
Even when the sky is falling
And I’ve seen miracles just happen
Silent prayers get answered
Broken hearts become brand new
That’s what faith can do

Overcome the odds
You don't have a chance
(That’s what faith can do)
When the world says you can’t
It’ll tell you that you can!

I’ve seen dreams that move the mountains
Hope that doesn’t ever end
Even when the sky is falling
And I’ve seen miracles just happen
Silent prayers get answered
Broken hearts become brand new
That’s what faith can do
That's what faith can do!
Even if you fall sometimes
You will have the strength to rise

Friends, I have seen miracles happen this year. My son, my precious and beautiful son was given to me and I became a mother. That's what faith can do. That's what I will cling to in 2010.

Matthew, this ends your book....but never your place in my heart or our family. In posts and writings to come, you will be mentioned and loved...cherished and remembered. I wish more than anything in the world I had you with me, but know that even if you aren't, you will never be more precious to me than you are as my first child. My miracle, my monkey, my wiggle-worm. And if people really love me, they'll remember you to me as well...the thought of you brings me joy and I don't ever want to lose that.

Thank you, Lord, for the miracle of my son. I am forever grateful.

Christmas Eve....

I am a mother.

I cannot think of a better gift I could have been given than to be a mother.

More than that, I am the mother of the most beautiful, precious and loved little boy. I have always dreamed of being a mother, and though my precious angel is not with me this Christmas, through him, I was given an incredible honor and gift...the gift of motherhood.

I now belong to a club that I desperately wanted to be in. I have the battle scars to prove it! I have spent the months of pregnancy that one spends--dreaming, planning and loving...heartburn, backaches and no sleep. I wouldn't trade a single second of it, knowing that it was all part of the process that was my miracle.

I also belong to a club that I never, ever wanted to be part of, and whose very existence makes my stomach turn--that of mothers who have lost their children. It is a club that also leaves battle scars...and changes who I am forever. It changes my outlook; it changes my heart. I will find joy again, and do every day--it's just a different joy. I will certainly love Matthew's brother or sister, but will always watch them with wonder and think about how Matthew would have been in their same situations. I will never be able to take the leaps of pure faith that I once was able to do without an apprehension that only belongs to those who have had tragedy that rocked their world.

Tonight, though...tonight, as the world waits for Santa and decides that since it's Christmas, they should go to church, I am thankful. It's hard to be thankful when my heart is broken, but if I am supposed to be learning and growing in this, then I have to remember that I *DO* have many things for which I am thankful. I looked at the post I made just two days before Matthew was born, and just three days before he passed away. It's worth reposting...for these things I am still very thankful and count as priceless gifts:

Dear Lord, I am most thankful for:
Your grace, mercy, faithfulness and salvation

**Without this...there is no hope. Hope is what I live for today and tomorrow. This hope is what I cling to in knowing I will hold my son again. I do not always understand, but am able to accept that the things going on in my life may be a test and I promised to give God glory in all things.**

My husband--he's brilliant, hard-working, an incredible father and provider

**Not only is he an amazing husband, I have had the privilege and honor of seeing him also be an incredible and devoted father.**

My precious, miraculous and stubborn little boy....I cannot wait to meet you
**Though our time after you were born was merely minutes...if that...I am so glad I got to meet you, caress your cheek and shoulder, and that you and your daddy got to hold hands.**

My family--regardless of current relationship status, I know I am loved
**I have so many family members that I could not imagine this time of our lives without. I am truly blessed.**

My friends--I am overwhelmed with people who care for me, worry about me and shower me with their attention and well-wishes

**This has never been more shown to me--I have never seen God more in action--than I have in the last month.**

My sweet Dixie Belle--though she is a PISTOL, she is a pistol full of snuggles and devotion

**I get such joy out of watching her in the snow...and we've had tons of it!**

My country--how I was blessed to be born here, I'll never know, but am eternally grateful for the blessing of America and her freedoms
**Again, we are so blessed to be Americans.**

My "children"--every little boy and girl for whom I have had the privilege of being a part of his or her life has touched mine so deeply...

**Bless their hearts...the little ones who have wrapped their arms around us have been so special to me.**

People who are willing to sacrifice--whether it is for their faith, their convictions or their fellow human...realizing there is something more is so admirable

*I cannot express how much I admire the bravery and the courage these people show.*

Loved ones that I have lost...though I miss them terribly, I'm thankful for their part in my life

**This is now even more true. As much as missing Matthew hurts my heart, his part in my life--his role as my first-born son--is something I am so grateful for...he gave me the gift of motherhood and nothing can ever change that.**

Lord, thank you for the many, many gifts I've had in my life.

Two weeks...

Today, in 6 minutes, my sweet little boy would have been two weeks old.

Why write right now? I don't know, really...I've had so, so many things I want to say and tell Matthew and then I remember that he'll never read the words anyway and the purpose of the whole blog-turned-yearly-book was for his memory...well, in truth, I figured he may be interested in it, but his wife would have probably been more interested in it.

His daddy wanted me to keep writing. This would have been his book, and his daddy wants me to finish through the end of the year at least as I planned. Of course, I planned to start his new book with new posts on January 1, and that will never happen. John has been an amazing, amazing husband (though I already knew this) and if this is important to him, I certainly can comply.

I'm not ready to write about the funeral, though the outpouring from our church, the military, my school, the community and total strangers was and still remains unbelievable. Frankly, it was a blur, and high in the competition for the hardest day of my life. I can say that many, many people have told us how deeply it affected them, and we again are touched by so many.
It's hard to believe it was just a week ago. And yet, it's been a lifetime.

We have been surviving...that's the best thing I can say. We have amazing family, friends and support from so many various groups of people. I am still in shock, though, and honestly go through periods of absolute disbelief to total and udder grip-me-to-the-core reality. It turns out that it was NOT a placental abruption that happened, but a condition called Vasa Previa. Rare, like being struck by lightning, and most times, devastatingly fatal for the baby and life-threatening for the mother. I've said it before and I'll say it again; Dr. Shonekan's quick actions not only gave us several precious hours with Matthew, but saved my life. Truly. Our nurse at Shady Grove told me she knew of one other patient where the baby was lost and the mother went into strokes and was very touch and go because it was not known about, as in my case. If you are to research this, as I've done a little, I can say with all honesty that there was no way this would have ever been diagnosed. I *had* the heavy monitoring because of his kidney condition. I *had* the color Doppler. Dr. Polko examined the placenta with the pathologist herself and said that the vessel was so tiny and so close to something (can't remember what) that no one would have ever been able to diagnose it without a crystal ball.

Friends, your comments and posts and thoughts have been truly what has sustained me. So many comment on my bravery and my amazing attitude and I want there to be no disillusion. I am shattered. I am not brave; bravery is facing it when you have a choice not to. I have no choice, my life has to go on. I have a husband who loves me and whose heart's desire is to one day again hold a son or daughter, and for longer than a few hours. For him, I'll move Heaven and Earth to try and make that happen.

And my faith? I'm SO trying. I promised God that even if the most horrible happened, I'd try my best to be one of those 'strong and inspirational' people who glorify Him regardless. I never, ever dreamed that He'd call my bluff on it, but that matters not; the miracle of Matthew is one that I must be forever grateful to God for, and keep my promises. And if I am very honest, Matthew was the answer to prayer. God was faithful. He existed, he lived and he was given to us by God.

Please keep us in your prayers. These are dark days. We covet your prayers and encouragement. There's much more in my head, but my heart just can't keep me writing right now. Instead, I'll post another picture from the amazing angel who photographed Matthew for us....This one makes me smile because it shows how LONG Matthew was....I've been saying that for a while! I have other pictures, ones that I'll try to post as my heart can bear to do so. Looking at them is so, so bittersweet.

Thanksgiving 2009

How very, very disappointed in myself I am. I just tried to look back at this time last year so I could compare Thanksgiving Days and I didn't blog!!!! I was visiting with my sister, so I may not have had as easy access to the computer, but still.....the posts the day(s) before focused on the Pie Challenge for Kyrgyzstan (which can still be donated to and I am only $195 away....go here!) and how I was just *so* not feeling an adoption from Kyrgyzstan was going to happen and I was just so....sad. Sad children suffered and I couldn't do anything more. Sad that I *STILL* didn't have a little one to celebrate the holidays with. Sad that I was just trying to find something to not be sad about....Maybe I was just thinking I didn't have that much to be thankful for, and didn't feel like posting. This is where my disappointment is because even then, I was so blessed beyond belief and I'm angry I didn't recognize it more.

Though this is obviously an appropriate post because it is Thanksgiving Day, it is a post I could make every single day....and full of things I will try to remember more on a daily basis.

Dear Lord, I am most thankful for:

• Your grace, mercy, faithfulness and salvation
• My husband--he's brilliant, hard-working, an incredible father and provider
• My precious, miraculous and stubborn little boy....I cannot wait to meet you
• My family--regardless of current relationship status, I know I am loved
• My friends--I am overwhelmed with people who care for me, worry about me and shower me with their attention and well-wishes
• My sweet Dixie Belle--though she is a PISTOL, she is a pistol full of snuggles and devotion
• My country--how I was blessed to be born here, I'll never know, but am eternally grateful for the blessing of America and her freedoms
• My "children"--every little boy and girl for whom I have had the privilege of being a part of his or her life has touched mine so deeply...
• People who are willing to sacrifice--whether it is for their faith, their convictions or their fellow human...realizing there is something more is so admirable
• Loved ones that I have lost...though I miss them terribly, I'm thankful for their part in my life

There are so many things I have to be thankful for this year...even as I sit waiting for Matthew to make his debut, and am admittedly a little nervous about what labor is going be like, I am thankful that I have had the blessing of pregnancy--something I basically thought was never going to happen. Mom and I were talking last night about how different this time of year is than we thought it would be. We never in our wildest dreams imagined that we wouldn't have a little baby girl eating her first Thanksgiving dinner with us and we certainly didn't imagine that we would be waiting for a chubby-cheeked little baby boy to decide he was going to come out after all.

Again, Lord, thank you for your many, many blessings.

39 Weeks...and thankful!

In hindsight, I wish that I had made a little post each week as to what was going on throughout the pregnancy. I think between this blog and my pregnancy journal I've done a decent job of chronicling, but a consistent, weekly update is probably what I'll go for (at minimum) for when Matthew is born. In any event, today is 39 weeks and still no sign of my little guy deciding he wants to meet us. Some things going on:

• He's still moving like crazy and I am thankful for that. It's probably the most reassuring thing I've ever felt and I know I will miss it (maybe not the karate chops to the kidney or gall bladder) when he's born.
• Sleeping is the most foreign concept in the world to me. (PLEASE do not send me a cute comment that says something like, "Ha...you don't even KNOW what not sleeping is like...just wait until that baby is born." If I hear that one more time, I swear, I'll explode. I get it, babies wake up A LOT. I won't get much sleep once he's born either. Check.)
• When I *do* fall asleep, I end up snoring. I've NEVER snored in my life. And it's not snoring-snoring...it's this weird, throaty thing that makes me feel like someone scraped my throat with a razor blade when I wake up in the morning. John says it's because I'm on my back, so we'll see if that's the case when Matthew is born.
• I can sort of keep the swelling under control by just being off my feet but now I have some knotty thing in my right ankle (much like the thing they thought was a clot in my left ankle) that REALLY hurts and pretty much makes me limp if I put any pressure on it. It's very varicose-veiny looking and so again, I'm pretty sure it's just some veins or something being cut-off. I actually have some energy, and would like to do some things, but putting any pressure on it really is not comfortable.
• I'm tired of looking at birth announcements, personalized stockings, bubble outfits and Christmas shopping online. I have an announcement style we really like, but it is on card stock and not glossy paper, which I'd like. There are just TOO many stocking styles out there and to pick one for a little boy for life is just overwhelming. It's probably going to something with a train for his grand-dad and that will be that. There are so many cute little bubble outfits and smocked things for boys (I know where ever John is right now, a chill ran up and down his spine!) but I just don't know what size he'll be so it's just overwhelming to look. And Christmas shopping? Too much online to look at. I just need John to say: "Buy this for____; buy this for ______; buy this for ____." My brain is mush these days.
• Another *perk* of being laid-up day in and day out is having lots of time to blog-hop. I posted the other day about how thankful I was that this whole process has been relatively non-eventful and I still feel that way. There are so many blogs out there about trials of infertility and I just am so thankful that when we did decide to go IVF, it was as successful as it has been. Granted, it took 10 years of heartache to get there, but for success with our first official cycle, I am eternally grateful to God.
• We have our next OB appointment on Thursday. At this appointment, I imagine we'll decide that if he's not born by December 1 (the day I am 41 weeks), we'll induce. Next Monday is the next specialist appointment and we'll look for that kidney again, and then Tuesday (my due date) will be the last OB appointment before Thanksgiving....it will be a pretty dry doctor time from Tuesday the 24th to Tuesday the 30th, so my hope is that the little stinker will think that's a FINE time to come! In the meantime, we wait.

And wait. And wait some more.....but heck, after this long--what's a few days more?

Grateful...

Matthew,

You have been moving around like nothing I could have ever imagined! I don't know if it was the acupuncture or you just finally deciding you were going to check out the rest of the womb, you have been *such* a monkey! Last night, daddy got to watch you turn my stomach inside out and even feel your little fist punch my right side. He said, "It's like he's giving you a little punch." Umm, yep, daddy...JUST like that. And it hurts, too! Glad the lightbulb finally came on!

That said, I want you to know that the last few months have been such a blessing to me. I won't lie...we had infant CPR tonight (and dear Lord, I hope we NEVER need to use that with you!) and I was pretty uncomfortable...after, and now, I am REALLY uncomfortable. Daddy thinks you may be looking for that final birthing position. Maybe, but whatever--it hurts! And in light of that, and the swelling, and the back and the rib pain and more that I've whined about in the last few months, I cannot say enough how thankful to God I am for the miracle of YOU. Every second that you have been with me has been one that I am eternally grateful for and the mere thought of anything happening to you just puts me in such a panic.

I never thought I would be pregnant. Especially in the last few years as it just seemed less and less likely. I thought that on a night like tonight--fall-like outside and cozy inside--daddy and I would be playing with a little girl with black shiny pig-tails and maybe making some pumpkin cookies for Grandma. I even told myself that I would never live a day of regret if I didn't know what it felt like to ever be pregnant...and I still believe that.

I am forever, unabashedly and eternally grateful though, that God had different plans for us, and for you, and that I am blessed to be chosen as your mother. I thank God for every little second we've had together as you've grown, and know that once you're *here* I will miss not having you safely and snugly tucked inside me.

So...though daddy may tell you one day that I complained about being pregnant, know that even if I did, it's because it is TOUGH to grow a human being! That doesn't take away from how much I love you and love being pregnant with you! You should always know this...and remember when you grow up and have a wife and a little baby on the way! It's a miracle and I'm so very grateful.

For this child I have prayed, and the Lord has granted me what I asked. I Samuel 1:27

Thank you, Lord...

As I drove to church this morning, that same nearly-crippling fear that I tend to be having these days just overcame me. Will John be safe? Will the baby be safe? Is he okay? Will we be here a few more years? If we aren't, what will we do about the houses? Will Dixie be okay? What will I do as my poor Matthew grows up in an increasingly God-less world? What would happen to us if something happened to John? Is healthcare reform going to make already bad healthcare even worse? What are those crazy North Koreans going to do? When and where will the next act of terrorism be? And so forth...I'm talking just overwhelming, heat-flash inducing panic and fear and anxiety...anxiety and I are certainly well past the "getting-to-know you" stage, and probably have been since birth. I've been really trying very hard, though, to just not worry and not stress because I want no extra stress for Matthew. How does one literally turn her brain off, though, and just stop thinking? Because really, sometimes it seems all I think about is anxiety producing.

So...in Sunday School, not even 15 minutes after my hot flash, what do I read? Phillipians 4:6 -- Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.

Can it get any clearer? Right before? Phillipians 4:4 -- Rejoice in the Lord always. I say it again: Rejoice!

I always joke that I'd love for God to just write me a note here and there and let me know what He wants me to know. Yep...He's that good and I feel great.

I know I wrote that having a human being move around inside was weird and I still stand by that. I want to add though that it is absolutely amazing also. Matthew has been hiccupping and it's just unbelievable that I have been given such a gift and am able to experience it. I often say that pregnancy is just a means to an end for John and me to be parents...and it is. But I don't ever want to forget what an amazing and miraculous means to an end it is. Just thinking that there's a little human inside who is floating around and dependent upon me is a feeling that I never thought I would have, but more than that, such an awe-inspiring one. I am so humbly and truly thankful to God that I was given this miracle of life I don't even know how to put it into words.

While this mush and gush *may* be hormonally inspired, it is nevertheless true...I do not know what I've done to deserve the sweet baby boy I am carrying, but I'm so thankful for him.