Us

An impromptu picture taken on auto-timer. Sweet memories made... possibly our best 'vacation' ever. 

Still Here

Words have alluded me this week as I absorb all that has happened this year, and look to some forthcoming changes in our lives.

I do stop from time to time and wonder... would he be here? Would he have been born today? Isaac came a week early, the girls both born 2 days before their due dates. Joel's due date was October 23. Either way, he probably would have been here by Sunday or Monday. 

With that in mind, our family is celebrating his life this weekend... celebrating the blessings God has given to us even in the times of heartbreak. 

Life changes are coming swiftly, though. Twice this week DSS inquired about us taking in a foster baby. It was hard to say 'no,' but we had firmly decided we would not take in a foster until after Joel's due date. BUT, knowing we are one of the few "open" homes in our county, we expect a baby will be in our house sooner rather than later. This is the most tangible way I feel I can honor Joel: to love on a baby who does not have parents able to do so. 

Additionally, we have decided (well, I have decided with Noah's support) to bring Lauralyn home from school. I will be her teacher for the last 3/4 of her second grade year. There are many factors that have led up to this decision, and I feel it is the best choice for her right now. I am excited, but apprehensive as to Isaac's reaction, as well as the school's. Isaac WANTS to be homeschooled, but we know staying at the elementary school is the best choice for him and his needs. Kristin will also continue at her kindergarten.

So, we are sort at a strange crossroads. Looking back at what this year has been, and the impact it has made on all of us... looking forward to some really big changes in our family and life in general.

Today

Today, I went to a funeral and graveside service for my Dear Sweet Friend's daughter. It was painful, yet beautiful, because in it, there was hope. Hope that pain will one day be extinct. Tears of sadness will be no more. Just joy. Unbridled joy.

The fellowship of Christian brothers and sisters, in the painful, dreadful times... again, beautiful. Starting the day with a phone call from someone who wanted me to know she was praying for me. The many hugs, the tears shared, the songs sung of truth and hope. Hearing my husband pray such genuine words, knowing he has tasted the pain of loss, and now sees his friend walking the same heartbreaking road. Feeling the warmth of the sunshine after days of cold rain.

The coming days will not be easy. There will be many more tears, many more sad and aching days. My Dear Sweet Friend and I will probably spend many afternoons watching our kids play, and shedding tears thinking about how this year has shifted our worlds. 

The shift, however, has us tilted just a little closer to heaven.

The Great Lion

I can't process the past few days. Watching my friend live through a nightmare. Knowing God had this year planned for a purpose. He knew we would say goodbye to our babies. Why? Why so close together? It's just too much to wrap my feeble brain around.

Someone mentioned something along the lines of God uses our sorrow-filled experiences to help others grieving... suggesting God will use my loss of Joel to help my Dear Sweet Friend while she is in the midst of grieving Elliana. I can't see things that way. I CANNOT get past the fact that God could have chosen for both babies to live. God COULD have changed this scenario completely... He could have allowed Shannon and I to experience pregnancy and newborns and raising our 5th babies together.

But He didn't.

Somehow, in His sovereign plan, He purposed that Joel and Elliana would be in heaven much much sooner than we could have ever anticipated. And if I believe the promises that are clearly laid out in scripture, this plan is for our good. GOOD? How babies dying can ever be considered for our good, I will never understand while I'm on this earth.  

There are no mistakes with God. There is no "plan B." Nothing surprises Him. While riding through this storm on my rickety raft of faith keeping me afloat, I should feel some comfort in this. I do feel some comfort in this, because I truly know nothing happens by chance. There is a reason our babies died. It was not just a cruel coincidence. However, we may not know the reason until we are there, face to face with the One who loves us.

Not knowing what else to write, I'll end this post with some comforting words written to Noah and I, from a man who is familiar with sorrow: 

"...try and hang on to this wild and definitely not tame God--who has great love for you and really is good, no matter what seeming 'evidence' there is the contrary!... Have you read The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe to your kids yet? Perhaps my favorite scene is where Lucy has just learned that Aslan is a lion and it startles her. 'A lion! Is he, I mean, is he quite safe?' And Mr. Beaver answers something like, 'Safe!? Who said anything about being safe? He's a lion, I tell you! Of course he's not safe. But he is good!'"

October 6, 2012

Today, Noah and I have been married 11 years. 

Today, my Dear Sweet Friend said 'goodbye' to her daughter. Elliana was born late on October 5th, and fought to survive. She went to our Savior within hours of her arrival.

Please pray.

I was honored to be able to photograph Elliana as she lived, and as she went to be with Jesus. Many images and emotions I will soon not forget. I am heartbroken for my friend.

I close my eyes and try to picture her and Joel together at the feet of our Lord. Giggling, happy, and knowing they will soon see those who loved them on this earth.

I Wonder...

...who is more excited about the 2 new dog beds?



The old lady on the left is looking pretty good for 14+ years old.

Just happened to be near my camera and take this before they all moved. If I had tried to set up this pose, it would have never happened.

Stupid October.

I didn't think it would be this hard. The past month I have done so well, felt strong, and could even go to church without that loathing feeling washing over me.

But today, it's October 2. And I can't stop crying. I cried in the shower. I cried getting dressed. I cried driving to Winston. I did my best to not cry at CBS. I cried all the way home. And here I sit, my eyes seem to have stockpiled tears. They just won't stop.

I look up at my calendar. I can't flip the page. I sob just thinking about flipping the page. Staying on September doesn't seem right either. So, I just skip October. November seems much less painful.

It feels dramatic or even ridiculous to miss someone so much that never breathed a breath. But he was mine. He had value to me. He was my son. Instead of getting to hold him this month, or study his hands and ears and mouth while soaking in his newborn goodness, I sit and stare at the tree under which he is buried, while stink bugs invade my porch. Stink bugs. How poetic.

I wanted to take a kazillion pictures of him. Instead, I have just one, the only proof that he ever existed (aside from the black mark on my medical record).

One precious picture, and a lifetime of should-have-beens.