Sometimes I feel so inspired to blog, and I sit down with my computer, and all of a sudden I start to think about who might read this and what they might think of me and then everything I just had in my head disappears. It all comes down to this...
I care WAY to much what people think of me.
I have always struggled with this. But then again, maybe that's pretty normal. So for now, I am just going to put all of that aside and write what is on my heart. It's been a while and I think I have a lot to say.
A lot has happened since my last post. My sweet baby boy turned 2. Judah's "due date" has passed. Ish and I celebrated our 3rd wedding anniversary. Each of those things in themselves should be a blog post because every one of those stories is filled with miracles and has evidence of an incredible God written all over. So let me start with the first thing which was Judah's due date.
A mama doesn't forget her due date. After you wait for weeks, counting down the days, that date is forever stamped in the calendar in your brain. Judah should have been born on (or close to) May 26, 2012. I know that a lot of people have miscarriages. Part of me feels ashamed about what I'm going to write because the part of my brain that cares what people think is telling me that "nobody cares". But I know that there are too many other women who have experienced loss and who are thinking the same thing about their precious babies. So I'm just going to be real. ONE single life is important to God. Judah's life, is important. So I'm still going to talk about it.
May 26th came and went. It was a Saturday. We wanted to find a babysitter so Ish and I could go to the beach and just have some time to ourselves, but we couldn't find a sitter. So we ended up making it a family day and taking Zion with us. But we didn't think about the fact that it was a holiday so the beach was packed. In fact, we didn't even make it there because the traffic was so bad! So we didn't really do anything except drive around and spend time together. Spending time with my family was the best thing we could do though, so it was good.
I had several friends (and by several I mean like 12) who were pregnant and all due in May or June. So my emotions have been a roller coaster. Always rejoicing when a sweet new baby is born, but mourning the loss of my baby at the same time. When we first lost our baby, people would say things like "it will get better in time". I know now that time doesn't change anything. Only God can whisper truth into my heart that can heal...nothing gets better with time. In fact with each passing month and milestone, it has only gotten harder. Realizing by now I should know the sex of my baby, by now I should be preparing the nursery, by now I should be having a baby shower, by now I should be seeing my baby's face for the first time. No, it does not get easier with time.
When I think about the journey that I have been on since Judah came to be, there are a few moments that stand out. One night I was just so angry. Zion wasn't sleeping, so I went to rock him back to sleep. As I rocked him, I cried out to God, "WHY am I SO angry?. Why can't things just go back to how they were before we had a miscarriage? WHY did this happen? WHY". Well, that night God answered me loud and clear. It was like all of a sudden I just was able to step out of myself and see the big picture. All of a sudden I could put into words what I was thinking but I was afraid to admit. All of a sudden I realized that the truth of the matter was, I was pregnant and our baby died. And up until that moment I had a pretty easy going life. Nothing ever really rocked the boat. I had always known that Jesus loves me and he has always taken care of me, but in my safe little world, nothing too tragic had ever happened. Yes, I had experienced death in my family that was devastating. But that is nothing compared to losing a child. Losing a baby is like the sacred thing that you think won't happen. And somewhere in my mind, I hate to admit it, but I just didn't think it would happen to me...because I was existing in this fairytale land where "God loves me too much to let something that bad happen to me".
That night, as I rocked my baby and asked God "why", I just realized that losing Judah had totally rocked everything I was standing on. And then I realized that being in that place was the best place I could be because - and I'm being really honest right now - if I really believe that I somehow deserve to be immune to losing my baby and it should happen to someone who loves God less instead, then something is terribly, horribly wrong in my heart. At that moment I realized that I thought I knew so much about God's love, but I really knew so little. And now I am realizing that I am not immune from pain but that doesn't change God's love for me. Most of all, these things I hold so tight to in this world are not even mine to hold.
This is all stuff that I could say before, but I hadn't gone through it. It's all so easy to say when all is well and everybody is here and healthy.
So as Judah's day came and went, and as Facebook has exploded with newborn pictures and birth announcements, I've spent a lot of time just having to rely on the Lord to supernaturally calm my heart and give me peace over and over again that all is well and HE is ALWAYS the same God.
A few days ago, my sweet friend posted something that was so fitting for her, but also brought tears to my eyes.
I care WAY to much what people think of me.
I have always struggled with this. But then again, maybe that's pretty normal. So for now, I am just going to put all of that aside and write what is on my heart. It's been a while and I think I have a lot to say.
A lot has happened since my last post. My sweet baby boy turned 2. Judah's "due date" has passed. Ish and I celebrated our 3rd wedding anniversary. Each of those things in themselves should be a blog post because every one of those stories is filled with miracles and has evidence of an incredible God written all over. So let me start with the first thing which was Judah's due date.
A mama doesn't forget her due date. After you wait for weeks, counting down the days, that date is forever stamped in the calendar in your brain. Judah should have been born on (or close to) May 26, 2012. I know that a lot of people have miscarriages. Part of me feels ashamed about what I'm going to write because the part of my brain that cares what people think is telling me that "nobody cares". But I know that there are too many other women who have experienced loss and who are thinking the same thing about their precious babies. So I'm just going to be real. ONE single life is important to God. Judah's life, is important. So I'm still going to talk about it.
May 26th came and went. It was a Saturday. We wanted to find a babysitter so Ish and I could go to the beach and just have some time to ourselves, but we couldn't find a sitter. So we ended up making it a family day and taking Zion with us. But we didn't think about the fact that it was a holiday so the beach was packed. In fact, we didn't even make it there because the traffic was so bad! So we didn't really do anything except drive around and spend time together. Spending time with my family was the best thing we could do though, so it was good.
I had several friends (and by several I mean like 12) who were pregnant and all due in May or June. So my emotions have been a roller coaster. Always rejoicing when a sweet new baby is born, but mourning the loss of my baby at the same time. When we first lost our baby, people would say things like "it will get better in time". I know now that time doesn't change anything. Only God can whisper truth into my heart that can heal...nothing gets better with time. In fact with each passing month and milestone, it has only gotten harder. Realizing by now I should know the sex of my baby, by now I should be preparing the nursery, by now I should be having a baby shower, by now I should be seeing my baby's face for the first time. No, it does not get easier with time.
When I think about the journey that I have been on since Judah came to be, there are a few moments that stand out. One night I was just so angry. Zion wasn't sleeping, so I went to rock him back to sleep. As I rocked him, I cried out to God, "WHY am I SO angry?. Why can't things just go back to how they were before we had a miscarriage? WHY did this happen? WHY". Well, that night God answered me loud and clear. It was like all of a sudden I just was able to step out of myself and see the big picture. All of a sudden I could put into words what I was thinking but I was afraid to admit. All of a sudden I realized that the truth of the matter was, I was pregnant and our baby died. And up until that moment I had a pretty easy going life. Nothing ever really rocked the boat. I had always known that Jesus loves me and he has always taken care of me, but in my safe little world, nothing too tragic had ever happened. Yes, I had experienced death in my family that was devastating. But that is nothing compared to losing a child. Losing a baby is like the sacred thing that you think won't happen. And somewhere in my mind, I hate to admit it, but I just didn't think it would happen to me...because I was existing in this fairytale land where "God loves me too much to let something that bad happen to me".
That night, as I rocked my baby and asked God "why", I just realized that losing Judah had totally rocked everything I was standing on. And then I realized that being in that place was the best place I could be because - and I'm being really honest right now - if I really believe that I somehow deserve to be immune to losing my baby and it should happen to someone who loves God less instead, then something is terribly, horribly wrong in my heart. At that moment I realized that I thought I knew so much about God's love, but I really knew so little. And now I am realizing that I am not immune from pain but that doesn't change God's love for me. Most of all, these things I hold so tight to in this world are not even mine to hold.
This is all stuff that I could say before, but I hadn't gone through it. It's all so easy to say when all is well and everybody is here and healthy.
So as Judah's day came and went, and as Facebook has exploded with newborn pictures and birth announcements, I've spent a lot of time just having to rely on the Lord to supernaturally calm my heart and give me peace over and over again that all is well and HE is ALWAYS the same God.
A few days ago, my sweet friend posted something that was so fitting for her, but also brought tears to my eyes.
Psalm 113:9 NIV
He settles the childless woman in her home
as a happy mother of children.
Praise the Lord.
He settles the childless woman in her home
as a happy mother of children.
Praise the Lord.
Just to clarify, I'm so happy to be Zion's mommy...but this verse applies to me being in the season where I had my heart set on holding my newborn for the first time, and am not able to. I hope I'm making sense. I'm really trying!
I hope I made some sort of sense here. I just felt like I should blog some of this, as this is all I do have of Judah's life. And although I only carried him a short time, His little life has changed me (and Ish) in ways I can't explain.
I hope I made some sort of sense here. I just felt like I should blog some of this, as this is all I do have of Judah's life. And although I only carried him a short time, His little life has changed me (and Ish) in ways I can't explain.
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