One Year

One year ago this fall is the anniversary of some of the hardest months in my life. I lost two babies back to back through miscarriage. You know what? It still hurts. My arms feel still empty. I still ask why. I still ask why I don't get to know why. I wonder a lot of things... I find my self wondering what in the world God is up to! Why do you allow some people to have their babies and others You take them away? I have friends who are huge advocates for the unborn, one of their callings in life is to speak for those innocent ones who have no voice. Two weeks ago they lost their 21 week prenatal son. Why? My heart aches for my friends that are unable to conceive at all. They are beautiful people that love Jesus. Why would they need to endure that pain? What are we supposed to be learning? Isn't there an easier way to learn it? It makes no sense to my humanity.

Obviously I know truths in my head, but sometimes there's a short circuit to my heart. I know in my head that the loss of my babies is not a punishment from God, but my heart is screaming "What did I do wrong?", "What did I do to deserve this?" And yes, honestly, sometimes I think things like "Why are they so much more deserving than I?"

Life continues on though. One foot in front of the other. The days of one breath to the next get further apart. I love these lyrics by Laura Story:

What if my greatest disappointments
Or the aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can't satisfy 
 We know the pain reminds this heart
That this is not, this is not our home

Obviously it is so hard for me to not know the whys, it would be so much easier if I was able to get an "OH! That's why this had to happen!" moment. However, for me, I think this might be one of those God sized holes that can not have a satisfactory answer this side of heaven.

Maybe the reason for the pain
Is so we would pray for strength
And maybe the reason for the strength
Is so that we would not lose hope
And maybe the reason for all hope
Is so that we could face the world
And the reason for the world
Is to make us long for home
-Matthew West

And The Tree Was Happy

I have been very sentimental lately, I know, I know...

This evening Mia was reading "The Giving Tree" to Trux, and I really felt this part:

But the boy stayed away for a long time... and the tree was sad. And then one day the boy came back and the tree shook with joy and she said, "Come, Boy, climb up my trunk and swing from my branches and be happy."

Most of you know by now that I grew up wild and free on acres of land Kansas. Some of you know and probably remember how my brothers, Nathan and Noah, and I lived in trees. Literally. There are three trees that are really a part of me and who I am.

Where I grew up there is an over abundance of Osage Orange trees.

Around my house they were planted in rows, similar to the above picture, and used to tack fences to, "fence posts". Our climbing tree was a fence post in the front yard along the front property line and across on the other side of the fence was another "hedge apple tree". The branches of these trees intertwined probably a good 25 feet above the ground, with limbs thick enough that we could go back and forth from tree to tree. Oh the secrets that tree holds. I vividly remember soon after Nathan's 2nd brain cancer surgery, his head was sutured together from ear to ear, he wanted very badly to be up in the tree. My brother Noah and I boosted him on up and we sat there for awhile, high above the world... however seeing as Nathan had just recently had brain surgery he was weak and his balance was very off and he couldn't get back down. I think this is one of the few times my mom truly freaked out on us. Looking back I totally understand.

When I was hurt or upset, I often fled to the outstretched branches of that tree. When it was stifling hot and the parents insisted on not using the air conditioning till July, we'd retreat to the shady branches of that tree, the higher you go the better the breeze you know.

The second tree I have a relationship with is the huge hedge apple in the back. From it hung our tree swing. Of course there were many, many childhood hours spent on it... or pushing it... depending on where you were in the pecking order of swingers. I actually looked at this tree while I was home over this past weekend, really looked at it with my grownup eyes. It has grown taller and thicker, as trees are apt to do. I went and laid my hands on it's rough, orangy bark... I'd like to think that the tree happy. I know I was. 

And for those of you that have no earthly idea why a tree would be called a hedge apple tree and what a hedge apple is...

And no, you don't eat them, they taste like earwax.

Standing On the Promises

This morning as I was driving to drop the girls, well, Sierra, off at school there was the most vibrant rainbow arching across the sky. We followed it and it lasted the entire 25 minute drive to school and at one point it even became double arches.

(You can see the faint double bow over the brighter one. Silly cell camera didn't do it justice.)

Rainbows always remind me of God's promises, stemming from the story of Noah in the Bible, and my dad reading it to us. So as I was driving and talking about these amazing rainbows and marveling with my children it really got me thinking... What do I believe about God's promises? What do I know with all of my heart that He promises me?

I will admit that I am often times grouchy about irritating things that happen in daily life, inconvenient things. I get sad or angry about things and try to accuse God of not loving me like He should... not keeping His end of the deal... yeah... some of my not so fine moments...

So as I looked at these rainbows I was reminded anew that God never promised me an easy ride... He never promised perfect health, He never promised that my children would always behave like angels. He never did. What He did promise me that he would always walk with me, He would never leave me. He will never ever make me go through something that He won't give me the strength and ability to handle. And you know what? That goes for the small things, like staying up with Ms. Asthma all night long, or the bigger things like losing something precious and dear to your heart. I guess it just struck me that with the attitude of entitlement that I have sometimes... okay, a lot of the time, I lose sight of, or overlook the things I am promised.

Thank you Jesus for your promises, I am grateful to you. Thank you for never leaving my side even when I lose sight of You and Your promises.

Do Hard Things

I wrote this a few weeks ago and never posted it. I am in no way asking for sympathy or trying to cause guilt in any of the people I love who are carrying or have had healthy pregnancies and babies. This is merely my life experience, obviously being told through my own humanity. :-)

This blog title has been in my head for over a week and I have no idea why. I'm not sure what I have to say that even remotely calls for it. But here I am, emptying my brain into a blog post. Come what may.

I was not expecting for the emotions from the loss of my two babies this past fall to keep popping up at random. Catching me off guard and threatening to reduce me to tears. (Oh, how I hate crying!) Today it was the announcement from a relative of, that they are expecting a boy. We were due only weeks apart. My sister, who was also due within weeks of me, speaking excitedly, and not so excitedly, about baby moving all around and the aches and pains that come with carrying and supporting new life. While I am so very happy for them, truly, against my will my mind says "that should be you too"... "you would be able to feel baby moving within you by now"... "you'd be this many weeks along"... "you'd be finding out what the sex of baby would be right now"...

Probably one of the harder things I have had to do to date... was to go visit my good friend and her brand new baby boy in the hospital. Don't get me wrong, I wanted to go see them. I am so happy for them, and their baby is so gorgeous and sweet... but my mind says "this should have been you in a few months..." and on the drive home there was nothing I could do to keep the tears from falling.

I went for my follow up appointment this past week, walking into that office, the sights, sounds, smells... it all came rushing back... last time I was there I sat in a haze of mental and emotional pain... this time I sat there and watched an expectant mom and her family overjoyed to just have learned that they were having a girl. Gazed with alarming envy at the swollen tummy's surrounding me... and being acutely aware of the emptiness of my own...

I had 11 vials of blood drawn that day. Testing for a variety of clotting disorders and other things that might cause miscarriages and are detectable in a persons blood. The few test results that have come back so far are normal... if they all come back normal that would indicate that my issues would be uterine scarring. Virtually unfixable.

The thought of moving on. Having the heart to say, "Your will not mine". Surrender. These are definitely a hard things for me. Do you ever just wish that you could have a tiny peek at the future? Just a glimpse? That you could just get answers to some, just a tiny few, of the whys right now?

So anyways, that is where we are right now, physically and mentally, for those of you that are following.  <3

Thanks?

Today has been one of "those" days... the kind that begins at 3am, with child #1 and a croup-like cough. You stick them in bed with you where they continue to cough and keep you awake till you finally decide that it's "morning" enough to get out of bed.

You do do all of those things that have to be done in the morning, waking up children #1 and #2, who don't want to be awake because of the late hour they were up till the night before, with a grumbly, draggy, sluggish attitude. You pack up lunches, yelling at child #2 to please put her pants on and come eat her breakfast whilst trying to comb out child #1's matted bedhead. Finally you tell everyone to get their backpacks, shoes, coats, and breakfast and just get in the car. You do this not one, not two, but three times. I practice the 7's times tables with #1 in the car between telling #2 to PLEASE stop wiping your syrupy hands on the seat!!! Arriving at school I sincerely tell #1 and #2 that I DO love them and to have a good day- and to #2, don't get any reminders! As I pull away and they walk into school I want to scream, #2 has NO coat on. Seeing as it was only 30 degrees out, a good mother would probably have rummaged around in the car, found a jacket, turned around and taken it in to her child... I've never claimed to be a good mother....

Upon arriving home I try to do an exercise DVD first thing, get it over with so I can continue on with more pleasant tasks for the day... like laundry. #3 doesn't feel well today and just wants to be close to me. I don't know about you but I find that doing pushups with a 30lbs child on your back is hard. But hey, I AM the one with the "If they helped you get you in the condition you're in, why not use them to help ya get you out." saying, so pushups with a thirty pound monkey on my back it is.

Laundry. I am always behind on that stuff. Like I can't ever just be caught up! My goal for the day, kinda, was to get it done. Well... it is now 5:15pm and... the "last" load is in the washer... however, it's almost jammy time... which means... another load of dirty laundry sitting in the hall...  >.<

Between laundry, dishes, vacuuming and a child that insists on being held, I get some dinner going in one of my besties, Crockpot. Nice chilly day for soup! Mmm! It will be so nice to have this good, hot, soup ready so we can all just sit down for dinner this evening. I'm doing good! <pat on the back> I have a few minutes so changing the left brake light bulb on my car seems like a good idea. I'm handy like that... sometimes. And I don't want to be pulled over for it again. Ick. I am so very irritated to discover that it is not merely a bulb problem, but is something way beyond my handy abilities to fix. Grumble, grumble. I am soooo getting a ticket for this stupid brake light being out. Mark my words.

I go to fetch my #1 and #2 from school, in stealth, cop avoiding mode. I need to be there early so my coatless #2 doesn't stand in the cold and freeze to death. Hooray! No reminders today! Homework went without a hitch. Sweet! Apparently the entire 1st grade class flunked last weeks spelling test so we're doing a repeat. Hmm... I forgot... or never knew... that my husband wasn't going to be home for dinner. If I had remembered... or known... I probably wouldn't have went through the trouble of filling Crockpot up with all that delicious soup. Oh well, the children and I will do our best to put a dent in it. Guess what! #2 apparently "hates this nasty, old, gross soup"... as does #3... something about the carrots being "matchstick" style vs. "chips"... sounds like crap to me, but hey, if she doesn't want soup then she can just eat the leftover scraps out of her lunchbox! (Not a good mom...)

I'm not sure what the point of this post was going to be... I will blame that on not getting much sleep last night. I think, because of the title, that I was going to tie it in with being thankful and grateful for things in my life like having laundry, having a car, having soup- even if it has "matchstick" carrots in it. Being grateful that I have children, even if they don't always listen and hate my cooking. I really hope that maybe someday, instead of being grumbly, and complaining about all the things that are "wrong" I can start focusing on the things that are right and good. I know I am blessed and that I really do have a lot to be thankful for. So act like it!

Well, I'm off to enjoy this rare evening with no extra-curricular activities, with my children. I truly am thankful for that!

Of Love and Sharpies

Last night I had told the girls to go to their room, tidy up and get their jammies on. A little while later I took some laundry in to put away and there was Mia, laying on the floor, no jammies on, doodling away with a Sharpie. My immediate reaction was irritation and frustration. Mia! What are you DOING?! Where are your pajamas and what are you doing with that SHARPIE?! Give it to me and get your pajamas on NOW. And I huffed out. Why can't my kids just listen to me? It's getting late and I'm tired!

When I went to climb into bed later that evening, there on my pillow was this. 

 
My heart broke and tears sprang to my eyes. She had only been trying to tell me she loved me. She was trying to show me she loved me, and I yelled at her. What is wrong with me that I am so blind or caught up in myself and what I want to be doing- or not doing, that I could overlook something so huge? I should have taken her into my arms right then and there and told her how much I loved her too. How much I treasure her. And then, in a nice tone reminded her to get her jammies on. :-)

I am aware that I do this a lot, I fail so many times, but last night really struck home. Help me Jesus, help me to be aware and take advantage of these moments I'm given. Not to let my own selfishness and frustrations get in the way. I only get one chance with these children that I love. If I don't make the most of it, how foolish and wasteful is that? Help me to notice and make the most of the little things, the moments that are flying by all to fast.

Nonstalgia

I was considering things in life this morning and my parents came to my mind. My parents fell in love and got hitched at the ripe old ages of 17 and 18. That was way back in 1975 and they are still going strong... um... 36 years later? Math has never been my strong suit...  As I was thinking about their lives and legacy I was struck by the things in life that they endured together. They have had 9 kids together, 5 boys, 4 girls. My oldest brother Nathan was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor at age 2. The surgery to remove that tumor and the harsh treatments trying to get the cancer under control left my brother with mental and physical handicaps. My mom once told me, "They took my baby into the operating room that day and brought me out a completely different boy." I can't imagine... looking at my own little two year old son, how can you survive that? He was the brother I knew though, and I loved him, to me he was just "Nathan". We had a special game that we played together, it was just ours and I will cherish the memories of it forever. We called it "Bear and Nancy". :-) 13 years later the brain cancer returned, this time it was inoperable and claimed his life in 6 months time. Pearl Harbor Day, December 7, 1992 . I was 12. He got to pass away at home, on the living room couch surrounded by his family. I will never, ever forget the men that came and them taking his body away. I thought about what Nat had said to our dad weeks before, when he was still able to talk... "Dad, don't be sad, I'm not afraid, I'm going to be with Jesus." I didn't cry at his funeral, and made a vow to never cry again.

In the meantime my mommy's own health was deteriorating. She has some kind of undiagnosed autoimmune disease that has attacked every joint in her body. She has lived in severe pain for years. She did end up getting joint replacements in most of her larger joints and is able to walk fairly well these days but the toll that that has taken on her is irreversible. In spite of this she never really complained and choose to continue to homeschool all of us. I never doubted my parents love for me. I feel like it was very evident in the course of our daily lives. I will never, ever doubt that they did the very best they could to raise us.

Maybe, perhaps, I look at my growing up life through rose colored glasses but when I think about it these days it's mostly all warm fuzzies! I grew up on a "hobby farm", meaning it was more of a hobby, mainly to supplement our family, than to make a profit. I love to think back to working the farm with my brothers and sisters. I know I whined a lot back then, I never wanted to weed mile long rows of green beans in the blazing hot sun... but what would I give to do that right now? Having earthworm fights with my brothers and being covered in dirt from head to toe? I know I complained when the Saturday to "do chickens" (no, not that) came around. But seriously, how many of you can dress out 10 chickens in an hour? And my oh my, fresh fried chicken? NOTHING like it. We canned our produce together as a family, we ate dinner together as a family... we were a family, we were love.

I grew up on about 7 acres with two ponds. We ran barefoot and wild in those woods and fields all summer long. We'd hunt for snakes for hours. We'd have contests to see who could drag the biggest snapping turtle out of the pond muck... Wintertime meant family Friday's in front of the fireplace. Nearly every Friday evening when the weather was cold we'd stoke up the fire and roast hotdogs, followed by some old black and white movie...

I realize this is probably a pretty disjointed blog entry but I think really disjointedly most of the time. I guess that I just hope that someday my own children will look back as fondly on their childhoods as I do on mine. And yeah, I'm just going to say it, one of my biggest regrets in my life is that my own children aren't able to be near their grandparents and know them... Sunday's fried chicken dinner as one big family, all the marrieds, all the grandchildren... and that I'm so far away that it's hard for them to impart their wisdom to me. Lord knows I need it!