Baby June Update

Recently I came home from work when my mom was baby-sitting the boys, and she told me the doctor had phoned and said he was just "checking in." I knew that meant he had something significant to tell me, and since we were expecting our results from my husband's CF carrier screening, that had to be it.

I dialed his office with my heart beating fast, and as he picked up the phone and I told him who I was, I held my breath.

"I was just calling to tell you that those test results for your husband came back today, and he did test positive as a carrier for the cystic fibrosis gene..." He went on to tell me again about the statistics, one in four that our baby will have the disease, and more background information. He said we could talk more at my next appointment coming up, and in the meantime we could research on-line over the weekend and let him know if we want to set up an appointment with a genetic counselor.

Wow...it was just so strange to hear those words. Over the past 10 weeks we have gone from a tiny tiny percentage chance to a 25% chance that our baby has CF. Especially considering the ultrasound finding with his intestine looking prominent, we felt very concerned for our son. That finding is what initially prompted them to check if we were carriers, but they assured us of the rarity that we would both come back positive. Yet now, here we are again in a small minority, again facing the possibility of joining a club we never signed up for...

The next few days went by in a relative blur of praying, doing research, and just feeling overwhelmed with the magnitude of this news. Less than a year ago we buried our only daughter, now we are suddenly faced with the possibility of our son having a life-threatening illness. Difficult to process, impossible to understand, and yet somehow we had to find perspective.

I couldn't sleep in the days leading up to our appointment. It wasn't just that I was anxious, I was in desperate need of reaching out to God, and for Him to answer. I would wake up in the night suddenly praying in my spirit for my little boy before my mind could catch up. I would try to nap on the couch only to be awakened soon after with more fervent prayer.

I wasn't sure how to pray. We don't know if he has inherited both of our CF genes or not, he might already be perfectly healthy...or not. Do I pray for him to be healed? We know God is fully capable of bringing him to us healthy, but we also know our will doesn't always line up with His. I'm so grateful for those verses found in Romans 8:26-27: "In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will."

I just decided to lay my heart on the line, and trust that the Holy Spirit will step in where my prayers fail. I have told God that our hearts' cry is for our son to be born healthy, so that's what we're praying for. Yet I know that what I ultimately want is God's will for my life, so I will accept whatever that is, and welcome it knowing that it will give us an opportunity to bring greater glory to Him. Last May we were called to surrender our daughter into His hands, and what could ever be harder than that? And yet one thing I am learning is that it's not only Eliana I'm called to surrender, all of my children and all of my loved ones are equally His. He wants me to place each of them in His loving arms, and trust Him to care for them, and to work out His plan for their lives.

The idea of my son suffering breaks my heart. There is nothing I want more than to see him born healthy and strong. Yet, I think of Jesus in the garden praying "My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me; yet not as I will, but as You will." Think of the depth of love the Father had for His only begotten Son Jesus, beyond human understanding. Yet He knew there was no other way for mankind to be saved but through the suffering of His Son. Despite Jesus' prayer to be spared from betrayal, suffering, and death, He still longed for His Father's will above all else, and look at the outcome of the Father's will. Jesus suffered a matchless agony on the cross, but to bring about the most beautiful miracle ever to take place--the salvation of our souls! The penalty of sin paid in full for all who receive Him, and with His blood we gained the right to be called sons and daughter of God! If Jesus had never suffered, we could never be saved.

Of course any human suffering will never equal that of Jesus, and any positive outcome will never equal the magnitude of the salvation of mankind, but what a glorious example of what it means to yield to the Father's will. And what a picture of how far-reaching, good, and infinitely loving our Father's will is!

And so as the days passed my heart was filled with unspeakable peace about our little boy. Not peace that we are guaranteed he will be free from suffering, but peace about who our God is. He loves our son so deeply, He knows His days and ours before we are even born, He has all of our lives mapped out in detail, and plans to carry us through any trial we might face. I trust that any trial He allows in our lives has passed first through His loving hands, and He WILL take care of our baby, He WILL carry us, and He WILL use all things for good. So I can confidently pray "Lord if it is possible, let this cup of suffering pass from my child and our family, and bring him into this world perfectly healthy with no illness, but not my will, but yours be done."

I don't pray that lightly and easily, but with tears and a heart that aches to the depths knowing far too well the pain of surrender. But I will step forward with faith, and trust that He will be who He has always been, and He will do all He has promised to do.

We walked into our next OB appointment smiling and laughing and feeling lighter than we had in some time. I was called back for an ultrasound before seeing the Dr., and felt prepared for anything that we might see. What we saw was...incredible.

After two ultrasounds in the last two months showing an abnormal small intestine, the tech typed in "normal bowel" and wrote it at the top of my chart for the first thing the Doctor would see. Everything else looked fabulous, and there was our sweet little monkey moving around and looking as adorable as ever. Of course we were breathing a huge sigh of relief, and praising God. This was our 5th ultrasound for this pregnancy, and the first with only good news!

We discussed things further with the doctor, and when he looked closely at the u/s pictures, he did say it still looked slightly prominent to him, but it does look good enough now that it wouldn't have even been documented had it looked like this to begin with. We're so grateful to rule out the concern of a surgery after birth, and the fact that whatever was showing up seems to have all but disappeared would seem to indicate it was unrelated to CF. The 25% chance he might be born with it remains, but without the bowel issue, I am looking at it as a 75% chance he will be born healthy! It's all in God's hands. Please continue to join us in prayer for a healthy little boy born in June, and that God would continue to strengthen our faith as we await his arrival.

10 Months

Today it has been 10 months since those precious, fleeting moments of holding our daughter in our arms. 10 months since we counted her fingers and toes, and sang songs and prayed over her, since we saw her tiny face and delicate little features. Those moments are forever etched upon my heart, though as time passes they become more hazy in my mind. I want to keep the memories fresh and clear through all of time, but instead they become increasingly faded like an antique photograph.

I want so much to be near to her.

If only I could catch a glimpse of her, running and laughing, so vibrant and so ALIVE! She is so much more than a fading photograph in my mind, more than the silent moments spent in our arms. She is more alive now than any of the days she was here with us.

Until the day we're together again, I will have to cling to my faded memories, and our precious photographs that will never be enough, and the complete assurance that as I'm missing her, she is happier than I can possibly understand, fully complete, without a single unfulfilled longing or regret.

She plays in a world that knows no bounds, exploring the splendor, beauty, and endless wonder of heaven like the care-free little butterfly she is. Someday we will fly together, and it will feel like the years of separation were only a day compared to eternity together in God's presence.

We love you so much, Eliana.

Fly High for Jesus, Little Butterfly!

The Two Week Wait

Two weeks ago at my last routine prenatal visit, I had a blood test to find out if I am a carrier for the cystic fibrosis gene. They told us to wait two weeks, and they would call if the result was positive, but after two weeks I might want to call in myself just to find out either way. So, as the days came and went leading up to the two week mark with no phone call, I became more optimistic, especially the day before and day of the two weeks. Since no call came, I basically assumed they were going to tell me I tested negative, and all this waiting would come to an end.

So yesterday I called in and left a message for them to call with my lab results. At the end of the day, after their office was already closed, the phone call finally came. A perky sounding nurse apologized for not catching me earlier. Apparently they had tried to call my cell phone first, and I hadn't heard it. She said I did in fact test positive as a carrier for cystic fibrosis.

After all my optimism, this was pretty disappointing news. There still isn't a reason to assume our baby has the disease, but it just brings the possibility that much closer to home. This morning Mark went in for a blood test, so now we are back to the two week wait again. I thought two weeks was long when trying to conceive, but this seems so much longer!!

If he tests negative, we are most likely in the clear, but there is still a very small chance because they only test for the most common form of the gene, and there are some more rare forms that he could carry that wouldn't show up on the test. If he tests positive, there is still a reasonable chance our baby might not have the disease, but of course the likelihood jumps considerably. In that case we would start preparing ourselves for dealing with it if he is born with it, and the waiting game would continue until he could be tested after birth. I'm not sure if there is any more they can tell via ultrasound than what they have already seen with the echogenic bowel, which is inconclusive.

So in the meantime, we are just waiting again, while still praying and hoping for the best. Thank you for your prayers, I'll keep updating when we find out more!

The Weight of Glory

Today I had to miss church and small group Bible study because of sickness, so it seems like just as good of a day as any to blog about my Bible reading. I’ve been thinking about some verses lately found in 2 Corinthians 4:16-18. Paul writes, “Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”

Let’s first take a look at one section of verse 17, “our light and momentary troubles…” At first glance this description of our earthly struggles could appear offensive, even flippant. This would definitely not be a verse to write in a sympathy card or to quote to someone in the darkest time of their grief. Let’s face it, some passages are just better when you arrive at them on your own, and have only to think about what GOD meant by including it in His word, not human interpretation. I would say this is one of them, and I’ve been puzzling over it recently.

Light and momentary…Seriously? Well, let’s see, this is Paul writing about his physical struggles of mistreatment and imprisonment, so it must not be meant to apply to the loss of a child, right? It must not be meant to apply to me…

But the more I think and pray about these verses, the more I see that they are definitely intended to apply to me. So, how can God’s word actually call my pain and struggles light and momentary? Don’t you see what I’ve been through, Lord, don’t you know how empty it feels, how much it hurts? You are the only one who fully knows what I feel inside, and do you call it light and momentary?

To answer these questions, I need only look at the context of the rest of scripture. This year I’ve been in a Bible study group doing an in depth study of the book of John. One of our recent studies was chapter 11.

Here, Jesus’ friend Lazarus has died. Lazarus and his sisters Mary and Martha are among His most intimate earthly relationships, along with his disciples and his mother Mary, so he joins their side. Verses 33-35 say “When Jesus saw her (Mary) weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, He was deeply moved in spirit and was troubled, and said, ‘Where have you laid him?’ They said to Him, ‘Lord, come and see.’ Jesus wept….” And verse 38 “So Jesus, again being very moved within, came to the tomb.” After this Jesus proceeds to heal Lazarus and calls him forth from the tomb, alive, and Mary and Martha and all those around are filled with unspeakable joy.

When considering Jesus’ emotional response, I believe it goes far beyond a human reaction to seeing that his friend has died. For one, Jesus knew that He had power over death, and that he would soon raise Lazarus to life again. It did sadden him that Lazarus had died, but this description of how deeply He felt goes beyond that. He also felt sympathy towards Mary and Martha, and profoundly compassionate in response to their sorrow. Yet, there is still more to His reaction, since He does know that their mourning will turn very quickly into rejoicing.

Here, I think Jesus is grieved for a variety of reasons. Deeply moved in spirit, in the literal Greek, means not only that He was sad, but also angered. Romans 6:23 says “The wages of sin is death…,” and here He is angry at Satan, our adversary and the father of sin and death, and deeply moved by the depth of suffering death brings to the lives of those He loves. He is feeling the weight of the pain, sorrow, and suffering of mankind as a result of death not only in this case, but all through the ages. He can see through the corridors of time, and knows that in the case of Lazarus he will rescue immediately, but in most cases, this pain will be felt until heaven.

In a sense, Jesus wept that day, for me, as if He could see the six-year-old feeling forsaken after the loss of her Daddy, the 14-year-old girl whose friend was killed in a car crash, at 16 when another friend was murdered, and now the Mommy weeping over the loss of her only daughter.

He wept not only for me, but for you, and for countless other members of the human race who Jesus loved and identified with deeply. He does not consider our suffering light and momentary from a human standpoint. In fact, He fully recognizes and has personally felt its magnitude. Not only that, but not so long after raising Lazarus, Jesus would personally bear the full penalty of death on His own shoulders on the cross, to make a way for those who believe in Him to escape spiritual death and be united together with Him and with each other for eternity.

Isaiah 53: 3-4 says of Christ:
“ He was despised and rejected by men,
a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering.
Like one from whom men hide their faces
he was despised, and we esteemed him not.
Surely he took up our infirmities
and carried our sorrows…

Hebrew 4:14-16 reads:
“Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has gone through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.”

So, if Jesus fully understands the depth of suffering we experience on this earth, why does His word speak of it in terms that would almost appear to dismiss it. How does Paul, whose suffering was immense, call all his trials light and momentary?

Because they are light and momentary by comparison.

Comparison to what? I know many of us have felt such sorrow over the loss of our children, we wonder how anything could ever make it look light by comparison. The answer is nothing can, on this earth.

But let’s look at the rest of this passage “For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”

Our current trials are being compared with the promise of our eternal glory. Heaven. Also in Romans 8:18 Paul writes “I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.” That is how immeasurably great the promise of heaven is.

Think of the deepest sadness you have ever felt, the most difficult day on your grief journey. Maybe the day you found out you would lose your baby, or the day you held your child for the last time. Or maybe it was days or even weeks later, when reality really began to sink in. Imagine the heaviness on your soul, an incomparable weight.

Now consider for just a moment, that on the flip side, the glory, joy, and freedom of heaven carries a weight that is far greater than that. In fact, that the heaviness of our sadness does not even compare in magnitude to the weight of glory! It’s more than I can understand or imagine. The only way to explain it is, “what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”

Although it remains unseen temporarily, if I close my eyes long enough, I can almost see the open arms of Jesus as I run into them on that day. I can almost hear Eliana laughing as she runs to me and I hold her for the first time alive. And when I picture that, I can understand these verses. Nothing could possibly compare to the magnitude of that day, not even our most profound feelings of suffering can begin to scratch the surface. All of that will melt away in an instant, in the blink of an eye, and it will suddenly be so light and momentary in light of eternity.

Revelation 21:4 says that God Himself will wipe away every tear from our eyes, and there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain. For the very last time, there will be tears, and as they are wiped away by our Father, a permanent healing takes place. Our souls are made whole for the first time, and perhaps in that moment, those who have felt the greatest degree of pain and loss will experience the deepest degree of boundless joy. Only then, in the midst of utter perfection and completion, will our suffering be converted into light and momentary trouble. How I long for that day.

Update on Baby June

So, life has just calmed down to a reasonable enough pace for me to post a quick update on Tuesday's appointment. First of all, thank you to all who prayed for me. I was actually the calmest I have been for any of my OB visits in this pregnancy. I felt very relaxed and at peace the entire time, even as the tech did measurement after measurement of the baby's brain and heart. It crossed my mind that I didn't remember them doing it in that much detail before. But I think I was so naive in my previous three pregnancies, although I was happy everything looked good, I spent a lot of those ultrasounds just day-dreaming about how cute my baby was, without a lot of concern for potential complications. This time I paid close attention to everything they were checking and although I was calm, I was still on the alert for any hint of a problem. She saw that the baby's bowel is still appearing prominent, but I was blessed to have the same tech as last time, and she told me that it didn't appear as noticeable as it was last time. Still, it appeared different from the norm, so it's something we will keep watching as long as it continues to show up.

The Dr. I saw was very reassuring, and he explained more details about cystic fibrosis, and confirmed that the chance of our baby having it is small. He also went ahead and ordered the test for me to have the blood test to see if I'm a carrier. I'll have those results back in two weeks. If it were to come back positive, then my husband would also be tested. (we would both have to test positive for it to show up in one of our children.) I feel relieved that we will get some information in the next couple of weeks. The Dr. also mentioned that besides CF, the finding could also indicate a problem with the baby's anus that could require a surgery following birth. Of course we don't want our newborn to have to go through a surgery, but my perspective has been changed enough through losing our daughter, that I feel like all of these possibilities are manageable compared with the thought of losing our son. If we get the privilege of parenting him, I know we will be able to deal with any complications that could come up. The Dr. also said that his first guess would be that the baby could be born without any issues at all, so of course that's our hope.

Going into this pregnancy, I really hoped for it to be textbook and uneventful. So far that hasn't been the case at all, but I know God has a plan in all of this, and our faith is definitely being strengthened in the process! We appreciate your continued prayers for our sweet little boy!

Tomorrow

I just wanted to post a quick update that tomorrow is our 20 week anatomy scan. We've been praying daily for good news at this appointment, and I am anxious to see what we will find out. At our last appointment, they saw on the ultrasound a prominent small intestine, which we were told could be a possible indicator of cystic fibrosis. The Dr. said that sometimes these things will not even show up the next time they check. Tomorrow we will see if it is indeed still showing up, and if so, we will probably be referred to see if we can find out more through a specialist. In addition, of course, I am hoping to get a good report on all of the other things they will be checking. Right now I am feeling mostly excited to get a look at our sweet little boy again, and lots of peace about whatever we will see. I would still ask for your prayers tomorrow as we go in at 1:30. Usually I start to feel more emotional, and a little panicked as soon as I drive into the clinic parking lot for each appointment, and since this is the big one, I'm sure I will be battling some anxiety.

We've done some research on CF since our last scan, and have felt encouraged by all the continuing medical advancements. The prognosis is really very good for a baby born now with the disease, as opposed to years prior. I feel confident that if we do find out he has it, God will give us all the grace we need to handle it, and our son can still have a long and full life even with the illness.

My last post was about how much I have been missing Eliana lately, even in relation to this pregnancy, but I don't want to overshadow in any way how excited I am about this little boy. Each time we've found out the gender, I have immediately started to feel like I know that little person so much better, and this time I have just been falling more and more in love with him with each passing day. I feel like he is such a special baby, because he was God's specific plan for us, even though we had no idea. We thought we would be having a baby last year, which means according to our timing, this year we would not. God knew differently from the beginning, and had this plan laid out all along for our special little boy to come into the world. I know he will bring so much joy into our lives, and I just can't wait to see his face, and get to know his unique little personality. While we will always miss our little girl, I believe God will also use this baby in a special way to bring further healing to our hearts like only He can. It's amazing to me how the human heart can carry so much heart ache, but so much loving anticipation and joy all at the same time. Never have I had such conflicting emotions at one time, but here I am.

I really wasn't surprised at all to find out we were having a boy. I had a feeling most of the time. Partly, because I had three different dreams about boys. In one I had in October, shortly after we found out we were expecting, I was pregnant with twins. Around the 25/26 week mark, I went into preterm labor. Everyone was extremely concerned except for me. Somehow, I just knew both babies would be okay. I knew that one was a girl and one a boy, and the girl was fully mature and could be born, but the boy needed more time. I told the doctors not to worry, "She will be just fine, and he won't be born now, he'll stay in there longer until the time is right." Sure enough, contrary to science, our baby girl was born at 25 weeks fully mature like a two month-old baby, and our little boy, who was at the normal developmental stage for that gestation would stay in the womb for many more weeks. Our daughter had lots of dark curly hair like Eliana did, and the prettiest dark eyes. I got to hold her, and talk to her as she gazed back at me lovingly and smiled. Pure bliss, and I didn't want to wake up.

The more I thought of it afterward, I wondered if the baby girl in my dream was really Eliana, two months old just as she would have been in October if she had lived to her due-date, and the baby boy twin was actually our next baby, for the pregnancy we were just beginning. Now that it was confirmed he is a boy, I take comfort in that explanation, and that my peace and assurance in the dream is the true assurance that he really will be born healthy at the proper time.

Later in the pregnancy I had another dream about the most adorable little newborn baby boy with dark hair and eyes like the baby girl from the other dream. He was so perfect and I loved him so much. I'm curious to find out if our son will resemble this baby or not when he's born.

My third boy dream, a couple days before last month's ultrasound was really funny. In real life, my mom was so convinced throughout this pregnancy that I was expecting a girl that she kept calling the baby "she" every time she referred to it. I reminded her often that it might very well be a boy, but she was convinced. It really didn't bother me all that much, besides being slightly annoying. In my dream, however, they confirmed that we were having a boy, and I went into an all out tirade to my mom for calling my son a girl for three months.

So, all that to say, my instincts were spot on with this one, and we are so blessed and so excited to be carrying this sweet little boy blue.

This is me, tonight

I think the reason I have been avoiding my blog lately, is because I really don’t like a lot of the thoughts and feelings I’ve been having. I’ve also been feeling so scattered that to sit down and try to make sense of it all at the keyboard is no easy task. My feelings and my faith have both been on a roller coaster lately, so much so that my mind cannot even keep up with what is going on inside my soul…Some days I feel a strength and a peace from God that keeps me going, and even brings a joy to my heart. Other days I just feel so conflicted, confused, lost really. Even after 8 months I still don’t know how to navigate in this unfamiliar territory of loss, and especially pregnancy after our loss. I’ve felt so many different things since our last appointment for Baby June, some triggered by the problem seen on the ultrasound, some by a decrease in his movement that turned out to be nothing, and some by finding out we’re having a boy.

I had a feeling there would be some issues attached whether we were having a boy or a girl. In fact, if we were having Eliana’s sister instead of her brother, I would probably be wrestling with a similar set of thoughts. But, in all honesty, I have been missing her so much more intensely since learning Baby June is a boy. I feel guilty to even type this, but at the same time, it is the truth, and I will feel worse if I don’t face my struggles head on.

It’s not that I am actually disappointed to be having another boy. We’ve been so happy each time we’ve learned we’re having a son, and love them so much, all three. When I was pregnant with Eliana, I was completely prepared to hear we were having another son, and so surprised when they told us she was a little girl. During her pregnancy, we thought we would probably have at least one more, and would have been equally pleased with a boy or a girl. I am completely happy that my 4th child is a little boy. What I am hurting over so much though, is that I didn’t get to keep my third baby, my little girl…

I have always wanted a little girl so much. I was so happy to have our two boys first. We planned to have a larger family and wanted some of each, so I always thought I would get to raise a daughter. I grew up with two sisters, and we had so much fun together, I imagined reliving some of those things with my own daughter someday. Once I found out I had indeed been given that little girl I had dreamed of, I was so in love with her, and couldn’t wait for everything her life would bring to our family.

I wanted to see how she would melt her Daddy’s heart, and how her big brothers would want to protect her always. I wanted to brush her silky hair and put it in little pigtails and dress her in the cutest clothes. I imagined her as a little ballerina, and also hoped I would have a shopping partner, especially on family vacations that are currently often spent going to zoos and reptile museums. But, I knew that even if she hated shopping and the color pink, and was more interested in going fishing with the boys than wearing tutus, it wouldn’t have made a difference to me. More than anything, I just wanted to be her Mommy, and love her for whoever God intended her to be.

Now, she is gone and I will never know how she would have turned out. There is nothing that can ever change that. Of course that would be true even if we were having another girl. It is not just the idea of having a daughter I am missing, it is her sweet little spirit that my spirit aches and longs for. She was given to me, and then taken away, and nothing can ever fill the hole that is left permanently in my heart.

There are so many unfulfilled dreams I had for her, and still just so much love in my heart that is meant only for her. Sometimes it’s so much I feel like I will fall apart because I can’t contain all the love that I am not able to pour out in the active role of mothering her. My soul still longs so much to hold her and take care of her. God creates a mother with a boundless overflowing sea of love for her baby for a reason, because that is what the night and day, exhausting, beautiful task of caring for a baby requires. But, I will never get to do that for her. I think it is even more exhausting to long for her than it would be to take care of her. Caring for a baby is a physical drain, but grieving for a baby is an emotional and spiritual drain that leaves you ragged and scattered.

I look for ways to remember her, and honor her life, and while it feels good to do something for another person in her name, at the end of the day there is still just a restless kind of emptiness that nothing can lessen. No amount of good things I can do in her memory can ever make up for the fact that no one will ever call her by name, see her smile, or hold her close in this life. Even if I succeed in keeping her memory alive, it is only the memory that she existed, because no one has a memory of who she is. We didn’t even get to catch a glimpse of that.

Even as I type these words, I know in my heart the spiritual truth that has comforted me in the past, that she IS known, fully and intimately by her heavenly Father, who calls her by name, and loves her perfectly for who she is. He is the only one who she needs to be known by. It is me who needs for her to be known and recognized on this earth, she has no need for that, and isn’t really missing out on anything.

Still, even as that knowledge comforts my heart about her current state, it doesn’t change the way it feels down here. I am lonely and broken, lost and disoriented without her. I try to move forward, only to find myself so many steps behind. I try to bring God glory only to find myself stumbling in the dark. I know He is there, helping me take every breath, every step, and loving me all along the way even as I falter. But sometimes it is so hard to feel it down here.

My sister who is due a month before me, and already has the only granddaughter on my side of the family, just found out yesterday, she is expecting another girl. I’m happy for her, but at the same time, it also hurt to see how brightly her face lit up when she came back from her appointment and told us. Then I sat and listened to her call our list of loved ones saying each time “It’s a girl!!” and sensing their excitement on the other end. That same excitement they are supposed to have over my little girl, instead of just sympathy and sadness. It made me relive the feeling of overwhelming joy from that day we had Eliana’s ultrasound and found out she was a girl. I know I had that same look on my face, and made those same phone calls. Now those happy memories can sometimes feel like daggers when I think of how quickly all our joy turned into this sadness.

That’s one thing I hate the most about all of this pain. The way things that once brought me the greatest joy in my life, have become sources of sorrow that I sometimes have to avoid. Everything to do with babies has always made me so happy. I have always loved seeing new babies, whether children of strangers, or of friends and family, and while I still enjoy them now, there is always a sadness that accompanies it. Pregnancy used to be such a joy, and now it is accompanied by so many fears and so many reminders of the pain. It hurts to look at my son’s baby pictures and remember their births and newborn days, because it reminds me too much of what I didn’t get to have with Eliana. Those were some of the very best moments of my life, and I can only pray that my heart will heal to a point where I can look at them that way again. And of course, those few precious memories of Eliana, that I will treasure in my heart for a lifetime. I wish so much that every memory of her could bring nothing but joy, but they still bring such sadness, hurt, and disappointment over what could have been.

I know all of the other mother’s out there who have lost children understand where I am coming from. I wish this wasn’t the place I am in right now, but it is. I wish I had a more encouraging, uplifting post, but I just don’t have that tonight. Ask me tomorrow, and I am likely to be on a much better plane. It’s funny how grief can do that to you, one day can be one of the most difficult, and the next day can be a happy one. And of course, being pregnant I am shifting that much more easily between emotional states. This post doesn’t reflect my overall outlook, or my constant train of thought by any means. It reflects some of the worst of me, and my thoughts at this specific, tired moment.

I am still holding on for dear life to my faith, and God really is carrying me along with His mighty strength. I am loving this baby He has given me with all I have, and just doing my best to move forward for him, and his two big brothers. Most days I really am okay, but I have been feeling all of this underneath the surface lately, and a couple of recent meltdowns have prompted me to just sit down and try to figure out what is really going on inside of me.

I’m so thankful that when I am at my weakest, I have an opportunity to rely on the strength that only comes from God. When I feel my steps begin to falter, I can count on Him never to let me fall. When I can’t walk on my own, I know He will carry me.



Praise the Lord; praise God our savior! For each day he carries us in his arms.
Our God is a God who saves! The Sovereign Lord rescues us from death.
Psalm 68:19-20

When I said, "My foot is slipping," your love, O LORD, supported me. When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought joy to my soul.
Psalm 94:18-19

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.
2 Corinthians 12:9-10

PS: To my pregnant sis if you ever read this, you know how much I love you, love my niece and nephew, and now love this new little niece on the way. She will bring so much happiness to all of us, and I look forward to seeing J. with her little sister. My feelings described here are just that, my feelings, that only have to do with how much I miss my own little girl. Don’t feel bad about your happy news, or being excited around me. I know you can understand how I can be both happy for you, sad for me not having my daughter, and yet happy about my baby boy, all at the same time!!