The worst day on earth

It was the kind of day every mother found herself exasperated but still not minding the extra cuddles. After a family getaway to her family's favorite annual festival- a tradition that begun before the children were a part of it (and quite possibly conceived at 😳, shhh)- she found herself dealing with sick children. Two little sicklies on a beautiful day. It didn't seem like more than a cold for either, and they were playing and sleeping a lot. Then halfway towards the day, the baby threw up. Baby puke is seldom a reason for an emergency hospital visit, but by the evening it was apparent that the baby had what seemed like a tummy bug and couldn't keep breast milk down. Due to the baby's low weight and petite nature, she decided to take her into the ER. This had happened several months ago and after a night of IV fluids, the baby was back to normal. So at the very least, she was hopeful for a night of fluids and the bouncy baby girl by morning. Afterall, the baby was perking up and playing, but just could not keep milk down.

The Emergency room wait was minimal- they were often seen quickly due to the baby being premature and low weight. While in the emergency room, she was given some anti-nausea medicine and managed to keep down some milk. The nurses drew blood and started her on an IV. The blood results showed really strange results that were quickly dismissed as dehydration. It was the right call. There were no other symptoms to indicate anything more, so they made themselves comfortable in a hospital bed to spend the night. The baby was restless, which made for a sleepless night. But she held her baby and roughed through the night. By morning, the baby was very puffed from fluid but started nursing perfectly. It was noted by mid afternoon that her breathing was a bit rapid and shallow, but when blood work revealed severe anemia that had not been there the day before, the plan became to increase iron intake and watch overnight. She still remained on fluids because they didn't budge her blood count. By the next morning, the baby was breathing hard and put on oxygen. She watched her helpless baby and held her all she could, she didn't sleep, didn't eat. She also didn't think it was serious and allowed the doctors to do what they needed for her little girl. She began crocheting her a Christmas blanket for the pending holidays. The baby quit nursing and only whimpered. After the breathing started to become even more gasping, she called the nurses and demanded more tests.

An echo was complete and showed an enlarged heart, so the breathing was due to the blood not pumping. The baby was going to be medi-flighted to a children's hospital and be seen by a pediatric cardiologist. She knew it was serious, but she never expected to live through the moments of the next few hours. They transferred the baby to ICU while waiting for the helicopter that had to take the baby to another state. When the helicopter arrived, she kissed her baby goodbye while they strapped her into a different bed. They allowed her to walk with her baby to the helicopter and watch it take off before the family had to make the 4 hour trip to the hospital to meet the helicopter. She kissed her baby one more time, but noticed her legs and arms were ghostly cold. The baby opened her eyes (which she had not done all day), and looked at her Momma so innocently. "Keep my baby alive", she whispered.

While waiting for the helicopter to take off, the staff started yelling for someone to get the nurse. There was a lot of commotion and when she asked if the baby was okay, they said she just needed help getting comfortable, and quickly rushed her back inside.

It wasn't long after that she received the phone call that she needed to come back to the Emergency Room and the baby was too unstable to fly. She noticed when she went back inside of the ER, nobody was moving. The staff had stopped, watched cautiously, and her pediatrician led them to a room, tears in her eyes. It was confirmed that the baby had caught the Coxsachie Virus. Anyone could have been a carrier, and she could have had it for days, or could have just caught it- there was no telling. The next step would be to get her on a transplant list and await a heart transplant- and the likeliness of making it through surgery or finding a heart in time would be slim due to her low weight. Also, she would need several heart transplants in her lifetime.

But, with sadness, it was not going to come to that. The baby was not strong enough and her heart had given out on her. It was a flab piece of muscle and had atrophied as quickly as the virus had attacked her heart. So they wrapped the baby and brought her to her parents, to be held, loved, and kissed.... one last time. Her daddy cried and rocked her, but her mother stared forward. Empty, emotionless, gone. She knew what she had to do next, and she knew she had to do it. So she rocked her baby, kissed her baby, and spent some time in the emptiness.

But the story continues.

Lessons Learned in times of trouble

My life has undergone a paradigm shift: a fundamental change in approach or underlying assumptions. In 3 weeks time I lost my infant, my pregnancy, and my grandma. And with that, I lost the entire assumption of what my future was going to look like. All the hopes and dreams I had, all of the ideas and experiences I anticipated- gone. Just all gone in one quick swoop. Everything obliterated as one beautifully orchestrated disaster.  'Isn't it beautiful- the way we fall apart?'

You see, I am a Jesus loving, faith abounding person, with real and raw emotions. Life is not always okay. You don't always have to be happy. It's not always good "all the time". BUT, HE is always good all the time. Does it mean I always feel it? Absolutely not, but I know it. So when I don't feel like He is good, then I say it anyway. I praise Him anyway. I pray anyway. I rely on Him anyway, because eventually I will feel it again. Because it is the truth. 

He has proven over and over again that He loves me, that He holds me, that He cares. So there is no reason why He won't continue to do that- won't do it continuously, again and again.  

We all need a paradigm shift. The things being created inside of me are so great- so intense, that it would take me hours to explain to you in the all the ways I see Him working. Those hopes and dreams and ideas I anticipated- they will actually be better than I could have ever imagined. Because there is something new in me, something fierce, something true and divine being worked out for my good. 

So what lessons have I learned?

He is good even when it appears He is not. And He is divinely orchestrating my future.

He hurts with me, and He hurts for me.

His ideas will be far greater and more fulfilling than my ideas.

It's all about faith.

I need people to talk to, that legitimately care. That don't forget me as time moves on, but constantly reminds me that I can talk to them, that I'm not alone, that I am still loved. I need people, even when I don't like people.
 

Eve's Eulogy

I’m supposed to talk about how precious Evelyn was, how beautiful and loved. And she was, so much. But there’s more than that. The meaning of her name is “wished for child”, or “the child I prayed for”. And how I did pray for her. The words I always prayed over her were ‘gentleness’ and ‘life’. I loved taking her places because people always loved on her- always commented on how perfect she was. She was so tiny, but she was so mighty. All she ever knew was love- she never had to experience anything else. Nick would say she was just like me- stubborn and independent. And she was. She wanted to run around with her brother so much. If she wanted something- she let you know. I always joked that Ryan was my pride and she was my joy. She lit up the room- she was so observant, with a  strong quiet gentleness about her. She was joyful.

Most of you knew her 8 months, but I knew her 16. From those flutters to kicks, to middle of the night cries. I remember when I first held her and thought: Even though I love this child SO much. Even with the magnitude of which I love and cherish this child- even at that depth- God STILL loves her more than I can. How anyone could love her more than me blows my mind- but there Jesus was, loving her even more than my own love. Loving ME even more than that.

8 months will never be enough- but it will be JUST enough. I prayed life over her. What I didn’t know is that at 8 months old, she would begin to point others towards the way for eternal life. This strength and peace I have, is not my own. And if you do not know that peace, don’t leave here without finding it. Don’t let her life and death be just a memory for you- let her life and death be the beginning to understanding your eternity. It’s not enough to say you believe in Jesus- you have to KNOW him. Know Him as I know Him. Know Him as my sweet girl knows him. My Princess is now a princess of the KING. So let her memorial be a gentle breath of life for you. Let’s honor her sweet life by giving Him OUR lives.

But I'm also

I have a name,  but I'm also grieving.

I continue my days. I walk, and move, and mostly breathe. I do what I'm supposed to, I say what I'm supposed to, but I'm also grieving.

The world outside presses forward, presses onward, presses more. Hours then days, then days and months. Life continues, but I'm also grieving.

People stop asking, people stop talking, people stop bothering. I ask to be left alone. And then, I'm left alone, but I'm also grieving.

The days push me forward, but I don't want to push forward. The wind blows around my life, but I don't always feel like I'm living. I am here, but I'm also grieving.

I do the next thing. I get up. Then I do the next thing, and clean house. Then I do the next thing, and often I have no idea what the next thing is. And I just keep going, but I'm also grieving.

My goal is joy. I run as fast as I can towards the goal of finding joy. One day, I won't have to strive for the joy- I'll just finally be there. I am trying, occasionally failing, then trying again. But I'm also grieving.

I cling to anything routine, anything standard, anything structured. I cling to the truth of who I am, what God is preparing in me, and a slightest hope that will one day turn to joy. But I'm also grieving.

Financially Responsible- A Calling

When you think of being financially responsible, you think of not spending too much, paying your bills on time, even tithing and giving. But it's so much more than that. It's willing to allow God to demonstrate your responsibility. It's understanding management, but also making some very tough decisions.

I bought a house when I was 20. I had no idea what I was doing. The house was in pretty okay condition, just needed some updating. But still, I had no idea what I was doing. I was tired of going from place to place, of having no one place that was mine, that was home. So I decided to buy a house. I had no intention of getting married- my self esteem was too low to see myself as beautiful or desirable enough. I saw myself in this house, with children. I had planned to adopt.

But life changed. My heart became whole, and I saw myself as beautiful and desirable. God saw me as beautiful and desirable. And to my amazement, a very handsome man of God saw me as beautiful and desirable. And so we were married, and my home became our home. We were still too young and not financially wealthy enough to make the updates on the house. We kind of let it go and concentrated on more recent problems, such as jobs and infertility. We did well to manage money, pay bills, and keep afloat, but never enough to pay for remodeling.

The opportunity came and we decided we needed a change. We knew we couldn't sell the house, but we thought we'd rent it out, as we had the opportunity to move into a beautiful 4 bedroom, 2 1.2 bath home on land. We had hoped to rent it for awhile and eventually buy it, and eventually sell the other. We knew we should be making the repairs, but we kind of pushed it in the back of our minds. We pushed it in the back of our mind as we rented to family, as we rented to friends, and even when we hit the hard truth that the current house has too many problems that won't be able to fix inexpensively so we would eventually have to move again and not be able to buy this place. The hard truth made is weary, worried, and left the house not feeling like home. Even after painting the nursery in preparation for a baby- it lost that home feeling knowing that living here couldn't be forever. But we still weren't thinking about the long run with the other house.

But praying for financial wisdom and peace, God revealed to us what we need to do. Not that we can't afford the place we are in, but knowing we will have to eventually move and that some day, that house will eventually need sold, we made the decision to move back to the house. The cost of living there will also be less, and by following a strict budgeting plan, we will be able to save and update and remodel and make progress on the house. It's in rough condition and just needs a little love.

So we are making the move back to our house. To make it a home again, raise a family as we make the progress. As I sit around this house piled high with boxes, I try very hard not to the let the tears escape. It's a much smaller home. But we can't skip the steps- we have to make the repairs and get that house into selling condition. Get that house into family condition. Although part of me is sad to leave where I am because I hate change, part of me is catching a glimpse of excitement- to go back to the house I bought when I was too young. To fix it up, take ownership and pride in such a home. I pray that my heart will catch up to God's heart- that I'll see the beauty in that home once again. For us not living there in a few years, it's taken a beating. But it will be exciting to watch the house mold, shape, and change as my family grows inside of it.

We ask for prayer, for encouragement, for peace. And also perhaps a hand or two ;)

The journey to baby: part 1

Awhile back I shared the short version of my testamony at church. And many people have followed along through the beginning, but now I would like to take the time to tell the story as I sit at the end of the tunnel looking back.

When we decided to have a baby, there were 3 things I knew for sure. 1) I would struggle with infertility and it would take me through the deepest valleys I was yet to face. 2) because infertility is such a secret struggle and rarely spoken about, God asked me to not be candid with my struggles. I knew there were people out there that needed to see God's faith played out and needed to know they weren't alone. 3) I absolutely KNEW God promised me children. I knew God promised me a son, and then a daughter.

Now, people have the best of intentions but only know what they have experienced. It was hard for me to let others know what I was going through, but more than anything I needed the prayers to accompany me. Once I started sharing how hard holidays were and how being motherless contributed to an even greater lack of friends, I began to get private conversations about others' struggles and how they deal. I began to have an audience. Now, I knew for sure I was going to have a child, and to make circumstances easier, I began collecting and stocking up on baby things I would need. I even began working on the nursery. I felt at peace with it, because I felt creating a space for my child was an act of obedience, a demonstration that I have faith and I believe. Several people found out about my. Any room and encouraged me that out of an act of obedience, I needed to get rid of my baby room as a sign that I surrender to what God wants to do in my life. Not bad advice.

But I struggled with that concept. Am I refusing to fully surrender by holding into my baby things and baby preparations? After a long struggle with this idea, I came to the conclusion: God may ask you to give up and surrender in your preparation of the baby that your heart so wants, or in my case he may look down at your preparation and smile as you build your home in faith. I felt justified that I was building my home in an effort of surrendering to what God has promised me.

It took 2 years to actually get pregnant for the first time. There are a lot of emotions that to into infertility, and through my blog I have tried to capture those emotions to hope they can help someone else. The greatest of these emotions was guilt. I never expected to feel guilty. I felt guilty that I couldn't make my husband a father. Or aunts and uncles and g rand parents. People really do mean well, but the question "when will you have kids?" Can easily send you into a frenzy. I expected the sadness and anger. I more than expected the feeling of defeat. But I knew I was still promised a child. I didn't know when, but I knew he was promised and his name would be Ryan.

I remember saying that if I knew I could get pregnant right when I wanted, I would wait 3 more years. God allowed me the struggle and journey, but then he STILL gave me my heart's desire... 3 years later...

So here I stand on what you build

So many that know me know that I've been struggling with work. The location is farther than I would like to be from my newborn baby, and there have been some situations arise where I have been accused, and the atmosphere has been an issue. I've been denied a transfer twice, but this last time was due to being the only qualified teacher at the Head Start. I've been hoping after a teacher gets set in, that I might actually get the next transfer. But I was so overwhelmed with all of it that I started looking for another job. I actually got offered interviews for 2 different positions, and while the location would have been ideal, the pay cut wasn't feasible with a baby on the way and the lesser insurance.

I prayed and prayed about these jobs, and the response I was given was to stay where I was. To stick it out. I knew that's what God was wanting me to do, and so I began to pray for a change of heart. I needed a friend there, I needed somebody a little more like me. I needed a huge change of heart and peace of mind.

As I was driving one morning to work and taking my time to get there, a song came on the radio.

"Here I stand, Here I stand on what you build, you are surrounding me".

And I got to thinking, I am standing here. God has build this position for me for this time, and I am standing on this position, and I am not along because he is surrounding me. Through the accusations, through the distrust, through the atmosphere. I am not doing this job for people. I am doing this job because teaching is my calling, I love my calling, and it's God that I have to please- not supervisors, no coworkers, not parents. He is surrounding me.

"You build me up like a city of gold, the battles rage but I'm standing tall- if only I could see from your perspective, the beauty and the grace of your architecture".

And then my heart is full. God is the one I need to look to to build me up. And I can stand firm through the battles, because he is surrounding me. But my greatest prayer of all is to see the beauty and grace- to see through his perspective the situations I have been dealing with. Somehow, they are beautiful and I just don't have the eyes to see it yet.

And something changed. The atmosphere changed. The accusations went away. The positions are filled. I have a friend. No, the location isn't ideal, but my heart is changing to see his perspective where I am and to see what he is building. I don't see the whole picture, but I see just a little more peace.

As Bold as a 3 year old

I run the nursery, and I absolutely love running the nursery. Not because my Mommy heart just loves taking care of babies. Not because I'm good at it. No, I do it for another reason.
By the age of 2, a child has developed all of their personality and spirituality that they will ever have. Now, as they grow, their personalities bloom further, but it's set in stone by 2, until they reach the age of consciously changing their inner selves. Spirituality on the other hand can either continue to flourish or it can be diminished. But by the age of 2, the "flame" of their spirituality has developed.

This is why I do the nursery. No, they don't retain a thing I teach. And no, they don't respond and act like they understand. That doesn't matter- when they are surrounded by the knowledge of God, when they are presented with the grace of God, and when they are told the story of God- their spirituality is developing.

And then they turn 3 and this happens:

Yesterday one of my 3 year old students came into class. During free play, she approached a group of about 4 of her friends in the classroom. She began to recite the fruits of the spirit. In her little voice she says "and yet I tell you, these are the fruits of the spirit...". It was very heart warming.

But then the students began to laugh at her. As she continued to try and recite her scripture, they would keep laughing and pointing at her. She got upset and said "Why are you laughing? This isn't funny! I'm trying to tell you the fruits of the spirit- this is God's word! Stop laughing, this is the truth!". My heart broke for her, but I didn't interfere. I continued watching at a distance.
She finally became frustrated at their laughing and ran to me to tattle on them, not knowing I saw the whole event. "I'm trying to tell them about God and they just keep laughing at me, and it's not funny, it's true! Why are they laughing?". I held her close and held in my tears.

Gently, I replied "Not everybody goes home and hears the words of God, they laugh because they don't understand. Did you know when Jesus was alive, he would tell people about God and they would laugh at him too. But that didn't stop him- he kept telling them about God, even when they laughed at him.". She pondered this and went on to play.

Today she comes in, pulls out her memory verse she is working on, and goes straight to the same group of kids. She says "It's okay if you laugh because you might not understand, but I need to tell you the truth. 'The Lord is our Shepherd'". They laughed a little bit, but a few minutes later after I greeted more children and turned my attention back to that particular group, one of the other girls was looking at the memory verse sheet and saying "So God died on the cross so we can live...".

And sometimes I wonder, if we could be as bold as 3 year olds....

Do what you must do

"Lord make me a servant, make me like you- for you are a servant, make me one too. Make me a servant, do what you must do to make me a servant, Lord make me like you."

I have had this stuck in my head singing over and over again. And then I wrote down the words. I looked at the words. And I bowed my head- Lord, I get it.

Do what you must do to make me a servant.

This past year and half dealing with the difficulties of my job, trying to understand why God has placed me in this company. Trying to understand God's reasoning behind what I've struggled with- testing my patience, testing my forgiveness, testing my endurance, testing my convictions. I have prayed about these, questioned the motives, fought against it all trying to remain positive and at peace...

And tonight I get it. Tonight I am humbled by the realization that God was completing the song in my heart. God was doing what he must do to make me a servant. He is doing what he must do to teach me to be a servant and to serve like him.

I get it.

And I am far from perfect. I want so much to fit in that sometimes I slip. Sometimes I listen when I should walk away- sometimes I talk when I should remain silent, and sometimes I remain silent when I should speak up. Sometimes my anger gets the best of me and I sin in my heart by the thoughts that I allow myself to think. Sometimes I am impatient and forget that I have the ability to forgive when things aren't being fair towards me. Sometimes I want to protest and object that I am being treated differently. But tonight I remember- I have to be treated differently. Because God is teaching me servanthood- being a servant to those I feel may not deserve it. 

I get it.

Tonight I am in awe of what God has been teaching me all along. Not just to forgive, or be more patient, or guard my tongue and mind and heart. No, God was teaching me to be a servant, because I asked him to do what he must do. God is faithful. He is doing what he must do to make me like him- and I am so far from it.

Woes of a Working Woman

I had no issues working further from home and making a career. Until I got pregnant and expected a child. I drive about 40-45 minutes to work and back each day. It's not a terrible amount of time and it's not horrible to drive it, but how can I justify leaving my own child an hour away? Not only being away 8 hours of a working day, but 2 additional hours due to driving? I'm so torn. I can't quit my job because my income is very much needed, and I am carrying the insurance which we really have to have, especially now. But my heart breaks thinking of leaving my child for 10 hours out of the day- 11 hours in the summer due to the required lunch break we have to take. That breaks my heart.

The atmosphere is a different story. The refusal to allow me to transfer is a different story. But both of those stories effect how much more strongly I feel about having to work where I am working.

Apparently it is very difficult to find a job you love in the same town you live that pays as well with insurance. I would love to be a stay at home mom, but I know that's absolutely not possible for our situation.

I'm just torn. I don't know what to feel, I don't know how to handle the drama I work around, or how to handle how angry I am at their refusal to transfer me on the basis of "we want you to work where you are at". I am angry and confused. And frustrated.

God, I pray for your guiding hand in this phase of our lives. Lord, I ask that you will lead me to where I need to be, and help make my circumstances more bearable.

Confronting the enemy lies: fear

I am no stranger to the feelings of fear.

I have not kept quiet about the pain I  endured during our miscarriage in hopes that it might give a spark of light to somebody else much in need. Pain was unavoidable, but the lessons learned were very valuable. I had to learn to give my guilt to God- the guilt of my health issue that causes the difficulty in getting pregnant, the guilt of not being a mother and making my family grandparents, aunts and cousins. And especially the guilt of not being able to give my husband a child when we wanted one so badly. That demon was strong, and that demon tore me apart. I had to learn the lesson of which kind of guilt came from God and which was false. I had to give in to my desire to be a mother when I knew that God promised I would be- I had to trust that promise.

It took a bit for me to let go and remember the promise. And as promised, I got pregnant again with a healthy baby. And I'm covered in fear. Not the fear of being a bad parent and not the fear of the pain in birthing, but the fear I've already known- losing my precious child. Getting excited to be pregnant because it's healthy in fear of losing what's already so valuable to me. I'm no stranger to fear, but I've never been so wrapped in fear either.

But I'm learning that God is in the God of fear. God loves me, he's made me a promise, and he is not a liar. HE IS NOT A LIAR. He does not want to hurt and harm me, he wants to prosper me, to grow me. I know this baby is healthy. I know the heartbeat is good. I know I am a mother, and God has every intent of my happiness. My fear is unwarranted, and unwanted. So bit by bit I'm trying to trust more, and to be more happy in my healthy pregnancy. How dare the enemy steal the happiness of my unborn child.  I cannot let this fear continue to take root, and I know it must stop.

So tonight I confront the enemy lies of fear. I will not let fearful thoughts take captive my day. I will not let fear keep me from loving my unborn child. I will not let fear destroy God's promise to me. I will not, and I cannot. So please agree with me, pray with me, and help us stay strong.

Shall we dance?

As a little girl, I often dreamt about dancing barefoot in the kitchen with my husband. And then later on, dancing in the living room with my family and young children. Then life continued and the world threw hate at me. Circumstances led me to believe I was ugly, unwanted, undesirable, imperfect, and not of value. I believed those lies, and at times I let them bring me down. I figured I could never get married, or have children, because I was unworthy. It took a great deal of strength from God to unravel the lies and believe the truth.

Years later I sit in the living room with my husband, doing our separate things yet we are doing them together. Sometimes we can dance in the kitchen if we want, and sometimes we just want to watch a movie, and that is perfect. God reminds me that the world lies to us. If you would have told me I would be here now, I would have cried because I wanted it so badly but believed I wasn't "pretty" enough for that to happen.

But the best days of all are the days that God dances with me. They are the days that God stirs my heart to hear his word. Shows me how to be patient with others as he is patient with me to reveal his mysteries. He shows me how patient he is with my unbelief and lack of faith. He shows me how patient he is with my imperfect thoughts and my stubbornness to correction. And he dances a dance of understanding- he knows my heartache, he knows my worries, he gets me. MY GOD GETS ME! Sometimes we dance the dance of second chances, as I begin to think the worst of people or want to disregard others. He allows me the chance of change- the dance of change. But my favorite dance of all is the dance of love. He dances in the sky while the clouds turn grey and stormy. On my worrisome days he sends the rain because he knows I love to dance in the rain. He sends the lightening and the thunder- knowing I get excited.

And when I remember, I like to ask God, shall we dance? Because I believe all of us need to dance more often ;)

A Momma's Worry

I have no doubt I will be a good mother. I am not worried about raising my child. I am not worried about discipline or how to take care of a newborn. I think my many years of child experience and degrees in child development gives me an edge on these topics. I am not worried about giving birth (yet!). But my worries lie in what every expectant mother thinks about at one point. And after you've lost one baby, as early on as it may have been, that nagging feeling stays with you even longer.
I know we've heard a really strong heartbeat 3 different times. I know that the growth is okay. I know that I am 14 weeks and I'm showing and nothing has been out of the ordinary. I know that I have a God that is big and has this under control, who has promised me children and wipes my tears. I know most people haven't heard 3 heartbeats and had 3 ultrasounds by 14 weeks, so the fact that I've had so many and seen a healthy baby this many times makes the risks go down, since most people will be just about to go to a second ultrasound, and not the 4th. But I could definitely use prayer for a peace of mind. And any encouragement as well.

First Ultrasound at 6 weeks

3rd ultrasound at almost 12 weeks

3 months! :)

Dream Big

If you could absolutely do anything, be anything, what would you do? If money wasn't an issue, if location wasn't an issue, what is your biggest dream?

I would like to open a homeschool based Christian School. I know this dream is probably more attainable that I can even imagine, more realistic than I think it is. So what's holding me back? My church used to have a private school- what's keeping me from re-opening it? I have the location. I have the support. And I'd totally have the children and the teachers. So what's stopping me?

I don't know that I'd get paid as well as I'm getting paid working for an indian nation. I don't know that I'd have the insurance that I have now, which is a pretty amazing benefit.

And I pray. I pray that if this is more than a dream, if this becomes a calling, that God would have to call me so loudly that my next door neighbors would hear the calling. That the pay would be as good and the insurance easy to come by. That something would happen to ensure that this plan be put to action.

It's fear.

It's fear of the unknown. Of losing the security I currently have. Of getting into more than I could handle.

I would love the make the plans, to jump on this. But I'm so afraid to lose what I have in my current job- a nice income and secure health insurance.

So what happens next, when you have a dream. Do you wait?

A little update and a big love

I realize I have not posted in a while. Between first trimester aches and pains and getting our house ready to rent, I'm exhausted! Like, I need carried into the house and need an IV to get nutrition so I can go straight to bed when I walk in the door, kind of exhausted. But I have it very easy and I am a dynamic pregnant woman. I had like 2 days of complete sickness, but still have kept the nausea to a minimum. I'm a lucky few.

As the second trimester nears, I can feel it. I can feel my energy rising, and my belly growing. I'll take whatever the first trimester throws my way, because God loves me.

Back when I had the miscarriage, that's when I felt God so near after I surrendered some of my thinking to his. He assured me that "there may be pain in the night but joy comes in the morning". I've held onto that since that devastating night. I knew my joy would come in the morning, because I knew without a shadow of a doubt that God would make me the mother of children. I held to those promises.

And today I am 3 months pregnant with one of the biggest miracles I've seen in my life. Everytime I go to the doctor and see my tiny being inside of me, every time I see my growing belly in the mirror, and every time I have trouble sleeping due to this growing child, I just want to cry. I want to cry out to God for fulfilling his promises. I want to cry out to God in thanksgiving, in praise. Nearly every day I just want to cry, because I am so in love with this tiny baby, and I am so in love with the CREATOR of this tiny baby. I think about how Jesus was once this tiny, this minature person in his Mommy's tummy.

Every turn of pregnancy pushes me closer to realizing the sacrifice Jesus made for us. There's just something about carrying a child inside of you that makes you want to praise God with every breath. And I might just do that. :) Sometimes my heart just feels so full right now that it could burst. I don't even have words to describe how thankful I am to God for his loving kindness. He sometimes gives us more than we can handle, so that we can be led to give it to Him to handle. I think this time he has given me more love than I can handle, and I can't help but to pour it back out to him. I will never take this moment, this pregnancy, this child for granted.

Call me Grinch

I just read a post from the garage sale site of a mother wanting others to donate presents (namely toys that she mentioned) to her 8 year old son for Christmas. Is it wrong to ask for a little help getting your children things they need, and sometimes want, for Christmas? No, not at all. But the end of her post stated that money is tight and she can't get many presents for her son this year, and that she really wants help because she doesn't want her son to lose the true meaning of Christmas.

And my heart broke a little. I have no problem helping families that need help for Christmas. But if a person is wanting presents so that their child doesn't lose the true meaning of Christmas, then they already have lost the meaning.

Call me Grinch. Call me a mean Momma. That's okay. My children will not be overloaded with gifts at Christmastime. (Except maybe from grandparents, and I can't help that one!). My children will get a stocking that includes a new set of pajamas to open Christmas Eve. My children will get 3 gifts in correlation of the 3 wise men which brought gifts to Jesus. One gift will be an outfit, one will have to do with learning (like books and such), and the third will be a toy. But accordingly, my children will select 3 toys of their own to donate to a child in need.

Am I bad Momma for not giving my children tons of new toys to occupy them at Christmastime? Am I bad Momma that my children won't sit on a strangers lap and ask for presents, or that they don't anticipate a real life Santa Claus leaving gifts because they are good? No, I don't think so. My children will learn about the real Santa, but he will be on the outskirts of Christmas. I will teach my children of Jesus, of why we receive gifts at Christmas in the first place, and how we can help those in need and make Christmas just as special for others.

Yes, we'll look at lights, we'll do a tree, but we will also spend time volunteering, shopping for others, and reading about our Savior.

I don't want my children to lose the true meaning of Christmas, but the true meaning is presents and reindeer, and about how much you get. It's about what you can give back to Jesus, how you can celebrate our creator. It's about humbleness. Is it wrong to give lots of presents and believe in Santa? Not necessarily, but I think if you aren't careful, in your attempt to keep the true meaning of Christmas, that you can lose it altogether.

My miracle

It's been incredibly difficult not to post about this before now. But now I can :)

The most difficult thing about trying for a baby and not getting pregnant is watching others around you not try and do get pregnant. And you want so much to be happy for them, and when you put everything aside, you are. And you love their babies, too. But the difficult part is showing you are happy when you are so hurt inside.

After the miscarriage, I remember asking God why in the world is he going to let this happen. Everyone always says that he won't give you more than you can handle. I disagree. I think we read the scripture wrong in this area. I think that sometimes God does give us more than we can handle. If he didn't, then what motivates us to turn wholly to him? We have to be given more than we can handle so that we are more likely to reach that point where we just can't do it anymore and we let him take over. IF he doesn't give us more than we can handle, that means that we can handle it on our own and sometimes disregard the creator of the universe. In everything.

I think the miscarriage got me to the place where I could not handle it. And it helped me to give up completely. Sometimes God brings you to the lowest of places because out of your weakest point, He is strongest. I understand it now.

Of course when we found out we were pregnant again, we prayed every night that we would be okay. Then we had an incident where I thought I was losing the baby, and went to the emergency room. When all was said in done, turns out we were pregnant with two but one didn't take. But the one that did is sure a fighter. The heartbeat was strong, the measurements were right on. She gave us a less than 10% chance of losing it, and next week that goes down to less than 3%. We are going to be okay. My baby is going to be okay. I get to be a Momma. I'm okay about the one not taking, because I am ecstatically in love about this tiny little peanut inside of me.

I know everyone says babies are a miracle, that everybody's babies are a miracle. But the truth is, I feel like my baby is more of a miracle because God heard my cries, he saw my heart, and after bringing me to the place my heart needed to be, he let me have a baby when, without medication, I couldn't. We were even told we would have issues on both sides, but I did get pregnant. So when other people get pregnant, I smile at their blessings, and smile doubly at my special miracle that I waited to years for. Every new mother loves their baby when they hold them, but I think there is a special, different kind of feeling that washes over new mothers who have struggled with infertility. They understand a lot more than just having a baby. They had a fight to get to that point, and though the bond is deep with any mother, I think when you've struggled with infertility, the bond might be just a little bit deeper. A little bit stronger. A little bit more overwhelming.

A little bit of everything

I have not written in awhile for several reasons. One of those reasons includes being sick with some kind of allergies or cold or who knows what, on top of other things.

A few months back I applied to transfer to the Ada head start location. Partially to relieve current work stress, and partially to just be closer to home for when I do have children. After being told I had the position and that everything was being finalized, I realized that it was taking an extraordinarily long time, more than normal. So upon inquiring, I was notified that the position was already given to somebody else, at the last minute, for the mere fact that she was more indian than me. Normally, though upsetting, this would be understandable (thought they should have informed me sooner and not needed me to ask!), but they take no consideration into reasonings. The one that got the position lives in Sulphur, therefore she will drive back and forth to ada everything instead of staying at the Sulphur location. Make sense? Not really, not when I live in Ada.

But with that being said, a position opened up in Sulphur because of this, and I applied for the transfer to Sulphur. My heart needs the change of pace. My stress level needs the change of pace. And it will save 20 minutes driving than what I'm currently driving to get to work. Closer to home? You bet.

My doctorate is going okay. Just finished creating a curriculum review schedule. I'm thinking one day I would like to create my own homeschooling curriculum. Kind of sucks that I won't be able to home school though. My husband and I needed to compromise on this, as I think public education can be beneficial, but I know I will be an overprotective Momma and want to home school. But I want them with other children too. Dear husband just wants to public school, and as long as we are in this current school district, I don't mind as much. One less thing to fight about. But I still want to create a homeschool curriculum.

I am the nursery coordinator at church. I'm very excited to announce that beginning in January, I will be conducting the Puggles Club in the nursery. Puggles is the Awanas class for 1-3 year olds, before the Cubbies. YOu almost never hear about it because nobody wants to do it. But since I"m already in the nursery regularly and I get bored too, I thought beginning the Puggles program will give us a change of pace. I'm pretty stoked about it.

We are doing Thanksgiving at our home again this year, the Saturday after Thanksgiving. I enjoy having events at our home for two reasons: the first reason is because I get nervous around big crowds of people, even if I know them. And secondly is because I have a bedroom to retreat into when it gets to be too much. I guess a third reason is I know where all my bathrooms are and know my bedroom bathroom will only be used by me so I don't have to worry about walking in on anyone :) I'm a little crazy, I know.

I've got much more to say but it'll have to wait a few days ;)

Desire

Infertility is such a secret struggle. Mostly because it's extremely personal. But part of the reason I haven't kept this issue hidden is that other women are struggling with it too and have nobody to ease the pain of not being able to have the children you want. Even if it's secondary infertility- because I know I will probably struggle with that as well. My heart breaks for other women facing infertility- because I've been there. I've cried the tears of jealousy and envy. I've cried the tears of fear, and the tears of guilt. I've been there.

I wish I had words to encourage others. But I don't have the words because infertility is sometimes inconsolable. Sometimes infertility  is just not fair. I get it. And I hate it.

But I do know that our God is a God of love, a God of reason, and a God of promise. I do not think God would put such a strong desire for children in the hearts of these women if he did not intend to fulfill their hearts' longing. "Delight thyself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart". I think this is where the answer lies. Delighting yourself in the Lord. Learning to focus on his love for you, and learning to delight in what he has given you already- relationships, sunsets, opportunities. But I don't for a moment believe that it will simply ease your pain, because this isn't a superficial kind of pain- it's a longing so deep in your heart that sometimes can't be warded off. And that's okay.

It's okay to be sad and it's okay to let us be sad. Quite simply, God shines brightest at our weakest moments. Keep that in mind, because you get very weak in the struggle against infertility.

Women that struggle with this don't expect a perfect baby- heck, we don't even want a perfect baby. we just want ours. We will be grateful for morning sickness and swollen feet, kicks to the rib, and labor pain. We know it will suck and be hard- but we still want it. Now that's desire.