Three Years

Three years ago today, I lost you.  So tiny, but you were mine.  It was so early, but it didn't matter to me.  You belonged to me for that space of time, but you have a piece of my heart forever.

I had to take a moment (okay, more than one moment, actually), to think about you.  Truth be told, I don't think a day has gone by in which I have not thought of you.  But today, on the third anniversary, I had to pause and ponder the experience of having you, loving you, and losing you.

I remember after I had Anna, I rejoiced in three successful pregnancies.  I thought to myself, "Whew, I'm glad I never had to go through a miscarriage."  I had no idea that one would be in store for me.  At the time, I thought we were done having kids.

When I lost you, I thought to myself, "This is what I never, ever wanted to feel."  The aching, the emptiness, the feeling of being utterly bereft once you left my person.  The longing to hold you and tell you I love you, but having empty arms and a wounded heart.

And yet, I experienced God's presence in a different way.  He met me there in my grief.  I couldn't understand why He allowed it, and then in time, the eyes of my heart began to see that baby was still a gift.  They changed me in subtle ways, like making me long more deeply for heaven, causing me to trust in His goodness and the gifts He gives, and realizing that a loss of something so beautiful here on earth, will be unutterable joy and gain in heaven.  Their life exists for eternity, and that is no mistake, no accident.  That gives me never-ending comfort. I know where he or she is, and one day I will join them too.

I gazed over at Celia today, playing the song I had on today three years ago, moments before the miscarriage took place, when I was doubled over in pain.  I looked at her across the room, and we locked eyes and I smiled at her.  She wouldn't look away, and she smiled right on back.  It feels like it has come full circle, as Anna was nearly the same age when it happened that Celia is now.  Anna brought me such comfort, being so little, and I COULD hold her and snuggle her, even when I could not hold my baby.  Now that Celia is the same age (one month older), it feels surreal somehow, like I reached a milestone.  As I gazed at her, I knew that if I hadn't lost our baby, she would not be here, because the pregnancies would have collided.  God wanted her here and He has a plan for her, while my baby was not meant for this life.  But the next, oh the next, he or she is already there!

The highest honor of my life has been to carry my five babies, even the one who was there for a blink of an eye.  To experience life growing within me has been the greatest joy I have ever known.  I can honestly say this is true for me now, even if it wasn't in the early moments I discovered I would lose my baby, that I am so happy I had them.  I wouldn't go back and not have that pregnancy even if I could do so.  I wouldn't wish they had never come.  Instead, I am grateful I had the short time with them.

I thank God for the time we had together, and I often ask Him to tell my son or daughter how much I love them, and I can't wait to see them!  

Until then, I will carry them in my heart, always!

Celia Joy's Birth Story

With our fourth baby being due in January (another winter month), we had to make plans far in advance about what to do when the time came.  Much like with Anna's birth, we worried about the weather, getting to the hospital, and our childcare (my sister) getting here.  Thankfully, those worries were for nothing, and there was no snow at all when Celia was born.  

Once again, my sister came up to stay with our kids when Brian and I went to the hospital.  My fifteen year-old niece Emily joined her, and she was a great asset all around.  My kids love her, and I wish I lived closer to her and my sister's other daughter, Lindsey.  I would have them over ALL THE TIME to help in the entertainment department.  Not thirty seconds after Emily arrived, she had my boys running around and having loads of fun, and as soon as Anna woke from her nap, she joined in the wonderful chaos.

We decided to induce again, as we did with Anna, because we had the same concerns.  Living about 2 1/2 hours away from family, we needed to make sure we had childcare available for our three kids.  We never know when we'll go into labor or how fast labor will be, and it is hard rushing to the hospital when you have to wait for your childcare to arrive.  Also, I needed time to show my sister where to find certain things, go over food/menu items, and just give my kids a little time to transition from my sister's arrival to our departure.  

Another reason to induce was due to my getting COVID in December.  Brian got it, either from school or a festival he had attended with students, and brought it home.  We were surprised, having made it so long without getting it, and we didn't even consider it was COVID until I lost my senses of taste and smell.  We took box tests, and BOOM, we were positive.  I had new fears now of being pregnant with COVID, but my midwife reassured me that since my baby was nearly fully developed, there shouldn't be reason to worry.  She did say it was preferred to give birth by my due date, as there can be negative effects on the placenta.  So, there was reason #2 to induce.  Since my midwife was on-duty two days before my due date, we decided to start induction that night.

It seemed once Christmas was over, I was in a flurry of preparations.  We installed baby's car seat after rearranging and we moved Anna's seat over.  I baked ahead of time and had some foods prepared for my sister to serve when I was away.  I made and froze a dinner that I could just heat up the day we came home from the hospital.  I made notes for my sister.  Brian and I made a video for the kids, and we prepared a recordable book for Anna while we were away.  

It was hard for me to leave Anna, knowing she didn't understand why I was going away for a few days.  I bought her a Big Sister teddy bear, and I cried when we went to the car heading to the hospital.  A pregnant mama is nothing if not emotional!  My sister came here on June 9 (two days before my due date) with my niece Emily, and I quickly showed my sister around (food, thermostats, clothing, etc., etc., etc.)  She did this three years before when I had Anna, but needed a refresher course!

We left for the hospital at 5 p.m., needing to arrive by 6.  It is a good 50 minute drive at the minimum in busy traffic, and we managed to get there at about 6.  We parked, got our luggage out of the car, and proceeded to head for the crosswalk.  I am sure, even in the dark night, the street lights showed a man, a woman with a large belly, and suitcases headed for the hospital, there was no need for drivers to wonder what we were up to.  Traffic stopped on both sides, and they allowed us to cross the street in peace.  

We got all checked in and headed, for the fourth time, to the same little maternity ward where we delivered our first three.  We were greeted right away by a friendly, exuberant nurse named Harmony, and I thought the name suited her just fine.  We were sent to the same room where we had given birth to Caleb ten years before in May.

I got all readied up, suited up, bloodwork taken, hep lock installed in my arm.  (I always hate those dreadful things.)  I was given a GI pill that can cause contractions to start.  I was to take a small dose every four hours.  Then in the morning we'd see what to do from there.

Well, if I thought contractions would start right away, I would have been immensely disappointed.  Having been induced with both Caleb and Anna at night, and having had them both the morning after, I had thought, perhaps stupidly, that the same would occur.  I expected a baby by morning.  One of the hardest parts of labor is not only the physical pain, but the mental battle, the war with your own thoughts, the attempt to remain positive when your spirits are failing.  This was my main struggle this time around.

My bed had been prepped for labor, so the cushion was off, and somehow the nurses expected a large pregnant woman to sleep on this thing.  Um, no.  Brian faired much better on the father pull-out bed.  Sleep eluded me, and I couldn't get in a comfy position to save my life.  Then, at about 3 a.m., I heard another woman in the throes of labor, yelling and moaning and all the rest, and it just got to me.  Always in the middle of the night, things are the hardest.  I was tired, I was hoping for labor to start and yet dreading the pain, and then I get to hear another woman nearing her big moment, and it just about undid me.  I heard her pain, and I was thinking, "NO!  I can't do this!"  For a few foolish moments, I thought about an epidural, something I have always been against.  Things can go wrong with those, and I have terrible scoliosis, so a needle in my spine doesn't sound pleasant At All. But, not feeling pain sounded heavenly, so I considered it.  In the sleepless night, my anxious heart considered it.  When morning came, common sense found me again, along with the light of day. 

So as daylight approached, so did the nurses, my midwife, and a new plan.  Would I like to proceed with Pitocin or have my water broken?  Knowing the breaking of the waters did nothing for me last time, I opted for Pitocin.  When I started that with Anna, labor took off.  If I had thought the same would happen this time, I would have been sadly mistaken.  Which I was.

Hours went by.  Brian and I were wishing we had packed board games.  Nothing was going on.  The monitor that I was hooked up to revealed I was having contractions, but I wasn't feeling anything at all, except maybe a little tightening here and there.  I was sad at leaving my kids behind only to be sitting here doing nothing.  I worried about my sister and pulling her away from her family, when I wasn't even in labor.  I had all sorts of things running through my head, and I was ready to get going. My nurses were encouraging me to leave behind my worries, thoughts about home and kids, and focus on my baby.  They were wonderful, and I easily bonded with them.  One of them came to me in the later afternoon and suggested I take a shower- as a fresh start of sorts.  Of course, it wasn't easy being hooked up to the IV and I had to bring my pole with me, but they were right.  A shower was nice; it felt good and was refreshing.

After they helped me get out of there, they encouraged me to hit the floors.  Time to start walking!  This was probably around 5 p.m. or so.  My contractions were FINALLY beginning to strengthen.  I put on my sneakers (I remembered wearing my slippers while walking to deliver Anna, and that was not good for my legs), and Brian grabbed the IV pole, which had to come with us.  We held hands as Brian guided me and the pole, around and around the small square hallway, reliving all the previous births.  All three of our children were born within these walls, and soon our fourth would be too.  It was all so beautiful, so overwhelming.

This is as good as it gets for us for dates.  Since we don't live near family, we really don't have babysitters, so going on dates for us is impossible- except when we go to the hospital to deliver another child!  So we tried to make the most of the walking, me holding my very large abdomen, breathing heavily, Brian guiding me and my pole, and just trying to talk about anything to keep up my spirits.

I would have to go back to the room to take breaks and get back on the monitor so the nurses could monitor Celia's heart rate.  They always told me she looked beautiful, and there were no worries there whatsoever.  So back and forth, between the halls and the room we went, until it finally got too intense.  Time for staying in the room, Brian rocking with me, singing to me, holding me through the increasing contractions.  No more small talk or chit chat- just hold me up through this!  

My midwife and nurses left me alone for a time, and finally I was dying to know how far I was dilated.  When the nurses popped in, I asked for a check.  After a bit, I found out I was seven centimeters.  Time to start prepping, because things were going to happen quickly.  But, the toll of the day was wearing on me.  It was a long night.  It was a long day.  Mentally, I was zonked.  I had long thought the baby would have been born, being that I was induced.  One of my nurses suggested a quick round of pain med, just to calm me down, and give me strength for the end.  She said she did it herself the year before.  Well, that got me.  I was so determined to have no pain meds (as I did for Silas and Anna), that I wanted to do the same this final time.  But I was so weary.  I said, okay, but half the dose.  So my midwife called out to the nurse to lessen the normal dose.  A drowsiness came over me, as it is meant to.  It gave me a rest, so to speak.  I still felt the pain, but it didn't control me quite as much.  But it was brief, very brief.  It wore off all too quickly, and then it was game on.  No more stalling.  This was it.  I got into position, nurses all around, midwife at my feet, my husband by my side.  I flipped to my knees at one point to move baby forward a bit, then went back to normal.  I was panting for air, so thirsty.  I asked Brian to give me water himself with his own hand, because I had no strength for anything else but to push this baby out.  I was hot, asking the nurses to help me off with my robe.  

I was pretty good at the breathing, and using my moans to push my air out.  My nurse even complimented me on my moaning later, saying that I did well with it.  I guess by the fourth time you get better at these things!  The baby was getting closer; my midwife could see her head.  But goodness, we still weren't there.  Everything in a laboring mama is screaming "Get this baby out of me!  I cannot do this ANY MORE!"  And I did scream quite a few things that made me sound like a lunatic, I am sure.  But I did have a moment of peace, where my life verse came out of my lips, from Isaiah 43: 1-3.  And my nurses all hushed in that moment, to listen to those words.  One of them told me later that it was a beautiful moment.

I had to let go of Brian's hand.  The baby was getting closer, and he wanted to catch her.  So a nurse took his place and held my hand.  I pushed and pushed.  Screamed all the way.  And then, a wonderful, beautiful, precious, slippery, sweet bundle came forth from my depths of my womb and into the air, the world, and her Daddy's arms.  Quickly, he passed her to me.  My prize.  My victory.  My joy.  Celia Joy. Born at 7:34 p.m.

I was sort of slumped into the bed, which was seated upright, and I couldn't get a good view of her.  I asked the nurses to please help me sit up higher so I could get a better look at this beauty.  And oh, she was beautiful, and her name which means "heaven" did not fail to suit her.  A cherub indeed she was.

So I did what all mamas do:  looked her over, kissed her sweet face, breathed her in.  I welcomed her into the world, told her her name and why we named her so.  I looked up to heaven and reminded the baby that I lost that I still love them too.  

I held her for quite a while the nurses did what they needed.  My two faithful nurses who were with me all day and my midwife as well, left pretty quickly.  I found out they stayed though their shifts ended over two and a half hours ago, but they wanted to see me through.  I was blessed indeed.

Celia took to nursing with hardly any prompting.  So that was a blessing right there for this nursing mama.  I finally let them take her for her vitals, not out of the room but just right there, while I had a breather.  I was starving. I hadn't eaten much all day, and I missed dinner by this point. I eat a mostly Paleo diet at home and little store-bought junk, but one of the nurses offered me some egg nog ice cream they had in the freezer (remember this was 2 weeks after Christmas), and I took it.  I was just so hungry, and I love egg nog!  They brought one for Brian but he hates egg nog, so I ate his too.  Hey, there were just those little individual cup things, and I thought I deserved it.  It was good!

We didn't get much sleep that night.  Those hospital beds are of the devil, and newborns never sleep right after they are born. I couldn't wait for breakfast.  Coffee came with my meal, but Brian went ahead and bought me the biggest coffee he could get at the cafeteria.  At that moment, it was the most delicious thing in the world.

We spent the day enjoying our Celia, taking photos, and dealing with the videos the hospital makes you watch every time you have a baby.  Brian left late in the day to go home to help my sister with the kids.  He would come back the next day to take us home.

At one point, they worried about Celia's bilirubins, and thought she might have jaundice as Anna did, but her bloodwork finally came back in the clear and we could go home.

As anxious as I was to get home, I couldn't help but pause.  My first and last were born in that room.  My middle two were born in the same room across the hall.  Four lives that came from my body, born in this place.  I felt the sacredness of that moment, of knowing my four babies took their first breaths within these walls.  It was so beautiful, I almost didn't want to leave.  My heart was full, so full.  Never did I think when I entered those walls ten years ago that I would one day leave with four children.

God can do above whatever we think or imagine, if only we are open to His doings. 

"Fear not: for I have redeemed thee, I have called thee by thy name; thou art mine. When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee. For I am the LORD thy God.." Isaiah 43: 1-3

Celia: 1 Month

 Happy One Month Birthday, Celia Joy!

Well, it is been a busy time, that's for sure.  If I thought my life was busy with three kids, I feel like I have entered another realm of busyness entirely.  All around my house, are piles of things I have started and not finished, things I need to put away or straighten up, or things I have not even considered starting whatsoever, despite needing it, badly.

It's been nuts, to say the least!

But, at least my house is clean (as far as dirt, for the most part), and counters do get wiped down, bathroom gets cleaned, and laundry is done daily.  So I am thankful for the things I do get done, even if the big picture is beyond my ability to complete at this time.

In spite of all of this moment by moment chaos, I am content to have my Celia.  She is a dream come true, a soft rain after a drought, a balm to a hurting heart.  I look at her and think what a miracle she is, as her blue eyes stay locked on my own; I can't help but count my blessings.  She is joy after sorrow, life after aching loss. 

We have some jealousy in the house with big sister, but that is to be expected, and not surprising.  Caleb is thrilled to have another sister, and for him, he has his "two and two" family- two boys and two girls, and now all he needs is a giant wardrobe to open the doors to another world.  I pray these four will indeed have many wonderful adventures together.  

So, while I am over here, sleep-deprived, dreaming of the moment Brian brings me home an iced coffee, I am happy to nuzzle close, one more time, the soft skin of a newborn, smell her delicious smell, and hold on tight for as long as I possibly can.  

I know all too well how fast it goes.  

Welcome To Our World, Celia Joy!

Celia Joy arrived on January 10 at 7:34 p.m.!  She was 7 lbs., 11 oz. and 19.5 inches.  

Her name is very special to us.  For a long time, I wanted to honor my mother in some small way.  She's had a hard life, and she is the one who led me to Jesus.  Her middle name is Cecilia.  For a long time, I thought that was such a pretty name, and I really loved the "Celia" part of it.  

When God started knocking on the door of our hearts that their might be another child, my thoughts naturally swerved to Celia.  While Cecilia means "blind", Celia means "heaven".  What a beautiful meaning, and it reminds us of the baby we have in heaven, lost to us in miscarriage November 2021.

Our first three kids all have Bible first names, and Celia, while a biblical concept, is not a Bible name, therefore we wanted the middle name to be a Bible name.  After I wrote down a list of possibilities, Brian first mentioned Joy as standing out on that list.  That was all I needed.  I jumped on it, and Psalm 30:5 burst forth in my mind, "Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning."  Well, that sold me on it.  Our Celia is our joy after our sorrow, life after loss.  We cannot say it better than that!

More to come on the story of her birth...

One Year Ago Today...

I couldn't let the day go by without pausing to reflect on the one year anniversary of my miscarriage.  No doubt, the baby actually passed away in my womb a few days prior, but since we wouldn't know when that was, this is the day we will mark as the one to remember.

I have learned so much and grown through this loss.  Of course, I wouldn't ask for it.  Of course, I would have changed the outcome if it were within my power to do so, but God didn't waste the experience.  

I wish I could shout to the skies and tell my baby how much I still love them, that they still are not, nor never will be, forgotten.  Caleb and I often discuss that this family has five kids:  3 here now, one in utero, and one in heaven.  Even though I don't actually get to raise five kids, I still know I am the mother of one more, whose soul knows eternal peace.  I know the day will come, one glorious day, when Brian and I will get to see that little one, face to face.  

I am thrilled to have this baby girl kicking and poking about within me, but as darling as she is and will be, she won't replace, can never replace, another lost soul.  Yes, having her does ease the pain significantly, and we are grateful for her.  I know the day she is born, I will be thinking of my little one in heaven, too.  

Joy....Unfathomable!

Surprise!  We are having another baby girl, due in January!

This past May, the day after Mother's Day, in fact, I took a pregnancy test and got a positive result for the fifth time.  Last November, I suffered a miscarriage, and we are beyond grateful for our rainbow baby!

So...how did we end up here, on the brink of having our fourth child?  Sometimes I scratch my head and wonder the very same thing.  If you don't mind indulging me with your listening ear, I don't mind sharing our story.

Once upon a time, before I was married, I thought three kids sounded right.  I come from three, so without giving it much too much thought, or consulting God on the matter (not that I needed to in my single state quite yet), three seemed good to me.  When Brian and I got married, a bit on the later side, I thought I needed to whittle that down to two.  I believed the great lie that women can't have babies after 35.  Boy, have I learned otherwise.

In fact, when we bought this house, we knew it was small, but we figured we'd have two kids, and so it would work for us.  And we did have two kids, two boys, in fact.  

I won't go through Anna's birth and reiterate how she came to be simply because it is already on this blog, but suffice it to say that God told me she'd be born ten years before her birth.   We thought we were done when we had Silas, due to various obstacles in our lives, such as my seizures and autism, but God had other plans.  So when I was pregnant with her, I "knew" she was my last.  

I wrote about savoring my pregnancy with her, since she was my "last".  Little did I know what God had in store for us.  Let's fast forward to five weeks postpartum.  I was at my check up, seeing my midwife for the last time to close out that pregnancy, and she asked me if I was done having children or if I wanted another.  I said, "I think I have to be done," considering my age at the time.  She stopped me right there, and said, "No, if you want another, you can have one.  You are healthy."  I couldn't believe I had received such unsolicited (but not unwanted) encouragement regarding having another, when my mind clearly thought this was it.  Of course, only five weeks postpartum, I was pretty busy with Anna, so I didn't think much of it.  But, there was a small part of me that said, "What IF this is God speaking to me?"  So I tucked this bit of news away, to revisit it at a time I was ready to deal with it.  Over the months that followed Anna's birth, I felt God nudge my heart that we would have another girl, and He even confirmed her name.

One year after Anna was born, I had foot surgery, and I was off my feet for about two months, which was great torture and suffering, and it wreaked havoc on our entire household.  Suffice it to say, I was not thinking about having another baby.  Once I got walking again, gaining strength, and starting to feel somewhat like my old self, I began to earnestly put the matter to prayer.  "God, was that You, speaking to me through my midwife?"  Obviously, I was older, risks were higher, and it all seemed so scary.  I began to research other Christian women who had babies in their 40's, and I was greatly encouraged.  I read about women who decided to let God take the reins on their fertility.

Even as Christians, we are taught to plan out our children based on income, the size of our home, whether or not we can "handle" more, or what have you.  We decide what sounds good to us.  Reading about these women, I saw incredible faith to allow God to decide the number of children they have.  I could say so much more about this, but I will keep it brief for now.  I decided, along with these ladies, I could not go wrong if I put God in charge of the matter.  He would decide, not me.  I wasn't demanding anything from God.  In fact, if He didn't want us to have another, then I didn't either.  I wanted what He wanted for us as a family.  Brian was on board with all of this.

When I had my yearly appointment with my midwife (which happened to be on my birthday), again, I got nothing but encouragement.  In fact, she clapped and hugged me when I said we were going to try for another.  I went home, told Brian, and we were both excited.  

The next month, I had another foot surgery to remove the hardware, and boy was I glad to see that go.  My body clearly does not like screws.  The month after that, we conceived our next baby, and we discovered we were pregnant the day after Brian's birthday.  

We didn't get to keep this little one.  My heart broke into a thousand pieces, and in the moment when it was confirmed that this baby was dying within me, I cried out to Brian, "Why did I open myself up to this?"  The pain was so raw, so real, and so awful.  I knew that being older had its risks, and I opened myself up to it.  I already wrote about my miscarriage on this blog, so I won't repeat myself.  But I learned.  I learned so much.  I learned that God was in control the whole time, and that little precious soul was just as much a part of His plan as every other living human being.  I followed His leading, and I have no regrets.  He IS to be trusted, even in the hardest of times.

After the miscarriage, the great question awaited us.  Do we try again?  I had no desire to experience another miscarriage, but I did desire to follow God.  And I could not shake the feeling that another little girl was supposed to join our family, that Anna was going to be a big sister.  But of course, I was scared.  After we lost our baby, we decided to let God decide, once again.  It wasn't easy letting go and letting Him be in charge.  It would have been easier to close myself off to the idea and not risk heartache and loss once again.  But, we want to have no regrets.  God would decide, not us.

This past April, we conceived our little girl, and finding out I was pregnant the day after Mother's Day was the best belated gift I could have ever received.  Of course, hearing this news was also hard.  I was not over the loss of our previous baby, and I was terrified I would lose this one too.  In fact, I thought I was very early on, and an ultrasound at about six weeks revealed a tiny heartbeat and everything looking good for that week.  So did my eight week ultrasound, and my twenty week as well.

That twenty week ultrasound was remarkable, one simple reason being we had the same technician who was with us for the baby we lost.  Now we were with her again, and she got to share in our joy instead of our sorrow this time!  Brian and the kids were there, and we were dying to know the gender.  Of course, we have one girl, so we didn't feel it was as dire to have another girl as it did when we were pregnant with Anna.  However, we did want another girl.  We loved the idea of two and two.  We loved the idea of giving Anna a little sister.  Not to mention, we now have a pink stroller, car seat, and all pink clothes to pass down.  And we had a very special name we wanted to use and not go to waste.

We were excited and nervous to find out, but it really should have been no surprise.  God is no liar.  He told me back when Anna was an infant we would be having another girl, and there she was.  And here she is, kicking me as I write.

If we make these decisions based on our own wisdom, we wouldn't have considered another child.  Gosh, the expense of four children is enough to make one run away.  We need a minivan.  We need a new house, have needed a new house since we had Anna.  (She sleeps in our room- enough said.)  We have autism.  But if we didn't decide to let God to provide for us, provide for our every need, we would have said no to another beautiful life that God wanted to be here.  All of these minor inconveniences are not more important than our baby girl.  The choice is simple.  We choose her.  

So that's our story.  I pray it encourages someone else out there, who may be teetering, who just can't decide.  If you look up women having babies in their 40's online, all you will find is gloom and doom.  I actually found a few hopeful things, while sifting through the junk, and I am so glad I did.  I asked God, I told Him I needed to hear from Him, and He answered me.  God did make women's bodies to bear children until they can't anymore, despite the risks being higher in the 40's. God is the author of life; I am not.  It is an honor to bear a child, one I am proud to do, and I do not take for granted, especially after our loss.

In regards to our last baby, I still love him or her.  I often think about them.  They would have been born in June.  And I realized that this baby girl I am pregnant with now, would never have been conceived if I had not lost my other baby.  Joy and sorrow, mingled together.  That is often how they go.  It reminds me of a hymn by Isaac Watts.  All I want is to be faithful to my Lord.  He put the thought in my head, He led me, and I was not going to swat His hand away.  His love is so amazing, it demands my all!

1. 
   
2. When I survey the wondrous cross
   On which the Prince of glory died,
   My richest gain I count but loss,
   And pour contempt on all my pride.
3. Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
   Save in the death of Christ my God!
   All the vain things that charm me most,
   I sacrifice them to His blood.
4. See from His head, His hands, His feet,
   Sorrow and love flow mingled down!
   Did e’er such love and sorrow meet,
   Or thorns compose so rich a crown?
5. Were the whole realm of nature mine,
   That were a present far too small;
   Love so amazing, so divine,
   Demands my soul, my life, my all.

Happy Birthday, Anna-Girl!! 2 Years

Two years ago, a tiny baby girl fulfilled one of our deepest wishes and longings.  God spoke to me ten years before she was born that I would have her, and though for a while it didn't look like it was going to happen, Brian and I never forgot that promise.

Now that she's here, boy do we love watching her grow!  She is blooming and blossoming like a spring flower, but she'll always be our pink snowflake.  She's our winter baby, born the day before Valentine's Day, and the day before the coldest day of the season in 2020.

Lots more to say, and more to update!  Plenty to say about our little girl!  Stay tuned...

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Our sweet Anna Lynn is such a joy!  I'm not quite sure where to begin, so I'll just dive right in.  

How we love every day with our Anna!  The only bad thing about watching her grow, is that we are slowly losing the baby days.  And while I hate that, I also look forward to the wonderful years ahead with her.  I pray that we will have a great mother-daughter relationship.  I have a beautiful example.  My mother, always sweet and gentle, raised me with the best kind of motherly love.  She never put me down, or gave me some high standard I had to try to live up to.  She encouraged me, led me to Jesus, and she let me go when I needed to find my wings, even though it broke her heart to do so.  

I always want to keep how my mom mothered me in mind.  One of the reasons I am so glad Anna is here is so that the love between me and my mom can continue to a new generation with me and Anna.  (My sister has two lovely daughters, and my sister is very close to my mom, too.)

But back to Anna.  She is so smart!  She is saying new words all the time.  She points things out constantly.  Anna can identify some letters of the alphabet, sort of at random.  Give us two or three more months, and we will get them all down.  I heard her count to five the other day, but she knows other numbers too.  

Daddy's girl stands at the gate, waving goodbye to him in the morning, saying "Bye-bye.  Love you."  Daddy can do nothing less than pause and take a mental snapshot, capturing the moment in his mind to remember all his life.  She loves big brother Caleb, and when I open the door to the boys' room in the morning, she runs over to Caleb's bed and gives him a morning hug.  She does try to hug Silas, too, but it is a little harder there, since he doesn't reciprocate too much.

She loves to dance!!!  Be still, my heart! There is a little play piano book in the boys' room, and she always presses the same song "Itsy Bitsy Spider", that has the song go a little fast, and she spins around and around.  Oh, my goodness!  Cue the cuteness!  Love!  I just have to stop what I am doing and watch her.

Anna likes her version of dress-up, which isn't yet tiaras and feather boas, but it could be a hat or even a blanket wrapped around her.  She is so funny because she goes to either find a mirror or glass so she can see herself.  She likes shoes, and there's a girl after my own heart right there.

She is definitely mimicking me in different ways.  In the kitchen, she will take a spatula and reach up to the stove and pretend to flip something.  She may find the remote control and hold it up to her ear and say "hello".  She likes to stir empty cups with spoons.  

Anna loves music, and she enjoys playing our little xylophone, and her new toy guitar we got her for her birthday.  Whatever instrument she chooses to play, she has an excellent teacher right here in our home, free of charge.  (Hint:  It is NOT me.)

She loves stuffed animals.  She is not fully into dolls yet, but one she prefers over others.  And she is starting to pretend feed her stuffed animals with her new tea set.

Our girl has a compassionate heart, and I really think she has the gift of empathy.  If I show any sign of upset, she reaches out her arms and gives me a hug.  Boy, God knew I needed this girl!

Anna is definitely a book lover, and she loves to look and look through books.  Sometimes I can read them, and sometimes I can't, because she might be moving through the pages too quickly for me.  But it is a joy to watch her be enthralled with a book.

I have to say, after I had my miscarriage, and even before when we knew it was coming, Anna was a sweet comfort in her own way.  Holding her, snuggling with her, and kissing her sweet cheeks was one of the biggest balms to my hurting heart.  I couldn't hold my baby I was losing, but I could hold her.  I am just sorry she won't get to be a big sister, because I think she would have been a great one.

And for the record, this girl is seriously difficult to get good pictures of.  Every time she sees me taking her picture, she wants to be on my side and taking it with me, so it ruins the picture I was trying to get!  

This picture was on Valentine's Day, playing with her new tea set and feeding her puppy.

Also on Valentine's Day, we are getting ready to head to her well-visit.  She looks miserable, but she really isn't.  She was very cooperative in getting all bundled up!  Her face is just too cute, though!

"'Tis Better To Have Loved and Lost Than Never To Have Loved At All"

I've been thinking about our miscarriage and still processing it.  While the fresh grief is gone, I still think about our baby, many times throughout the day.  It can be a brief, passing thought going about the day, and taking care of my kids, or it can be a more in-depth analysis.  

I like to think I am the mother of four, though it is true in one sense and not true in another.  I have three flesh and blood children to care for, but I have another child in heaven.  A child who was formed in my womb, put together by God.  God chose me and my vessel to house that little one for the short time they were there.  For that, I am honored.

In the first raw moments of grief and heartache, of course I wished this whole horrible experience away.  I wished it never happened.  I wished I hadn't gotten pregnant and that I could rewind the clock entirely.

As Scripture and truth have been applied to my wound like a balm, I see things differently now.  Now, I would not wish it all away.  I would not change getting pregnant.  Of course, if I had the power to keep my baby with me, of course I would do that.  But I do feel, as Alfred Lord Tennyson said, that "'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all".  God has another soul in His kingdom.  That is not such a bad thing!  God created this baby for His purpose- also not a bad thing!  While I long for my little one, I am still glad that they exist in heaven, rather than not exist at all.

As I said in my last post, my loss is loss here and now.  But one day, it will be my gain.  I will enjoy, one day, meeting my beautiful child I will be waiting the whole rest of my life to see.  There is nothing bad about that.

I am including here a poem written by Bob Neudorf, which I found included in Erwin Lutzer's book entitled, "One Minute After You Die".  Anyone who has suffered through a miscarriage can relate completely.  

"Is it proper to cry

For a baby too small

For a coffin?

Yes, I think it is.

Does Jesus have

My too-small baby

In His tender arms?

Yes, I think He does.

There is so much I do not know

About you--my child--

He, she?  quiet or restless?

Will I recognize

Someone I knew so little about,

Yet loved so much?

Yes, I think I will.

Ah, sweet, small child

Can I say

That loving you is like loving God?

Loving-- yet not seeing,

Holding-- yet not touching,

Caressing-- yet separated by the chasm of time.

No tombstone marks your sojourn,

And only God recorded your name.

The banquet was not canceled,

Just moved.  Just moved.

Yet a tear remains

Where baby should have been.

Our Baby In Heaven, We Love You

 

Some of you may know, or not know, that we had a miscarriage last month, on November 6.  It is a hard thing to "announce" and bring up in ordinary conversation.  So sometimes it gets left unsaid.

We found out we were pregnant the day after Brian's birthday, on October 4.  We were excited and nervous, and of course, wondering how in the world we would handle it all.  Our house is already too small, and has been ever since our little Anna came into our world.  However, no matter what, this baby was always loved and wanted.  

Looking back, I can see that I perhaps felt differently about this pregnancy, as if I knew something wasn't right.  I wouldn't have been able to acknowledge that going through it, but in hindsight, something felt off.  Brian said he felt the same way.  Perhaps it was the Lord's way of preparing us, though I still felt unprepared for the sorrow we faced.

Since I am not 25 or even 35, I knew pregnancy at my age is risky.  Knowing that, I decided to have my hCG levels tested.  Those numbers are supposed to at least double every two or three days.  If they do not, it is a big warning sign that something might be wrong with the pregnancy.  When my numbers only rose by a few thousand, but no where near double, it was suggested that I come in for an ultrasound.

At 7 weeks, we got to see our tiny little baby.  Their heart was beating, but the rate was on the lower side, at 100 BPM.  Its size was measuring about 5 days behind.  I also had a clot in my uterus near the baby, which wasn't necessarily a problem, but could be.  I was told to come back in one week.

I did whatever I could that week to help my baby, not that there is really much anyone can do.  I ate more, willing my baby to grow.  I drank nettle tea two times a day, a wonderful tea for development of the fetus.  I prayed.  We asked our church to pray.  I really believed God would turn this situation around.

We arrived for the second ultrasound, and that experience itself was pretty bad, considering the doctor wasn't there to talk with us afterward, and we had to go home guessing the bad news but not knowing for sure.  Our baby's heart rate, though still there, had slowed so much it could not be counted.  And our precious little love had shrunk in size.

This was told to me over the phone, since we had made the 45-minute drive by the time the doctor was able to call me.  I was told to prepare for a miscarriage.  My options were surgery (a D and C), or take drugs to speed it up and do it at home (after another ultrasound to confirm death of baby), or wait for it all to happen on its own.

I could barely get off the phone with the doctor without my voice cracking and falling apart, and into my husband's arms I collapsed.  I sobbed.  Oh, the grief was great!  He held me and whispered words of comfort, but I just saw our baby slipping away from me.  No!  This cannot be happening!  We want this baby!  All the babies that are aborted every single day, and this baby is wanted!  LOVED!  No, I don't want to let them go!  I don't want to feel this pain!

I knew I didn't want to have the surgery.  I didn't want the drugs either.  In fact, I canceled the next ultrasound they had scheduled for me.  I had no wish to see my lifeless baby on the screen.  The doctor had said it could take up to a month for the miscarriage to take place.  So, I tried to get prepared mentally for the physical stuff, whenever it would happen.  I wondered how I could handle it at home if Brian was at work, trying to deal with that and take care of the kids.

Thankfully, I didn't have to wait long.  One week and a day later, I began to have cramps after breakfast, at about 7:30.  It was a Saturday, but Brian had to go for a grocery pickup, and for reasons that don't need to be explained here, we choose to go to a town several towns away.  It was already ordered, and he needed to go.  He planned to call me every so often to check in on me.  

The cramps steadily got worse.  I didn't know how soon it would happen, but I knew my body was getting ready.  I had looked up as much info on miscarriage as I could find, but still all my questions were not answered.  I knew I just had to walk this road and find out myself.  I prepared lunch early for the kids, trying to get that done as the cramps grew stronger.  I was starting to double over at times, and I pulled up a song by Natalie Grant, called "Held".  It is about a mother losing a 2-month old, and really, it is about suffering and loss for anyone.  I played it on the computer, or my phone, I don't remember which, and with tears streaming down my face, and my cramps building up in my abdomen, I got the boys' food on the table.  

Anna was waiting to nurse, so I was just trying to take care of everyone in order that I could take care of myself when the moment came.  I sat down with her, and as she nursed, I felt a ceasing of the cramps very suddenly, and something like a pop in my abdomen.  Is this it, I wondered?  When she was done, I felt like the time had come, and the first of many, many trips to the bathroom began.  It was just before 10:30.

Brian called just after the miscarriage, and I let him know it happened, and off he sped down the road, trying to get to me as soon as possible.  The physical stuff takes a while, and several hours later, I was about ready to throw up and pass out.  

In the song "Held" it talks about the sacred being "torn" from your life.  It is exactly how a miscarriage feels.  I cannot say it any better.  That baby is being ripped away from your very person.  I wanted them, loved them, and there was nothing I could do to keep them with me.  

I don't mean to be melodramatic.  I am certainly not the first woman to miscarry, nor will I be the last.  And losing a living child would be a far worse pain than what I have experienced.  Still, it is something to mourn.  It is a loss.  We must take that time to grieve and let go.  

Each time I think I am over it, and my eyes will cease watering up once and for all, it sneaks up on me again.  I think of the soft cheeks I long to kiss, and the blue eyes I never got to gaze upon.  (We are all blue here, so I am sure this one would be the same.)  To not know if they were a boy or a girl.  I think of Anna who doesn't get to be a big sister.  There is a great chasm between me and my baby, and I can't get to them, no matter how much I wish to.

And yet, God speaks.  God comforts.  I know where my baby is.  My baby is in heaven, full of joy and at peace.  I don't say it merely because I wish it.  I say this with certainty.  I know my God.  I know my Jesus takes babies in His arms, who are too little to reject Him, too little to make those big decisions of eternity and salvation.

My loss here on Earth will one day be my GAIN.  One day, after I meet Jesus, I believe He will show me what I will be waiting my whole life to see, my little one at long last.  This sorrow will not last forever.  

It won't matter if they died in my womb or lived 100 years.  They are spending eternity in heaven.  And that is ETERNITY!  I will get to be with them, forever.  Without a shadow of a doubt, my faith is in Jesus.  I am a sinner in desperate need of His salvation.  I am covered in His blood.  By His wounds, I am healed.

I have prayed and asked God that He could let our baby know that they were loved.  They were always wanted.  I read a book by Pastor Erwin Lutzer, coincidentally after I prayed this earnest prayer, and he believes God can honor those types of prayers.  I hope He does.  

My friend Amanda sent me the above ornament.  It was the first ornament I put on the tree this year, and I am thankful for the beautiful reminder of our unborn, but never unloved, precious baby.

While I don't relish this experience, I am thankful that it at least helps me understand other women going through a miscarriage, and I hope and pray God will use me to bring comfort to someone hurting.  I don't know that I will ever "get over it".  I think there will always be a hole in my heart, but I have the hope of seeing them one day.  One glorious day!

Below are the lyrics to "Held" by Natalie Grant, written by Christa Nichole Wells, which truly helped to "hold" me during this time.  Truly, Jesus does hold us in all our of sorrows, when we reach the very end of ourselves.

To my precious baby I never got to hold:  Your Daddy and I love you more than words can say.  Looking forward to heaven now has new meaning for me, since you are there.  God created you in my womb.  Psalm 139 says He knit you together.  You, my darling baby, though you were so tiny, and didn't get to live long on Earth, you have an eternal soul.  Your life, though short, has significant value.  You will always mean something to me, every day of my life.  I never will stop loving you. Love, Mama

Two months is too little 
They let him go
They had no sudden healing
To think that providence would
Take a child from his mother while she prays
Is appalling

Who told us we'd be rescued?
What has changed and why should we be saved from nightmares?
We're asking why this happens to us who have died to live
It's unfair

This is what it means to be held
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell, we'd be held

This hand is bitterness
We wanna taste it, let the hatred numb our sorrow
The wise hand opens slowly to lilies of the valley and tomorrow

This is what it means to be held
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell, we'd be held

If hope is born of suffering
If this is only the beginning
Can we not wait for one hour watching for our Savior?

This is what it means to be held
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell, we'd be held
Yeah, ooh be held, oh

This is what it is to be loved
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell, we'd be held

This is what it means to be held.

Happy Anniversary: Ten Years

One decade down!  How many more to go?  Brian is hoping for at least four!  Let's see how long we live, or if Jesus comes first!

While shopping for Brian's gift on Etsy, I came across this hysterical Trump card.  I couldn't resist getting it as a gag gift!

Our traditional gift theme this year was tin, so I found this adorable tin cup for Brian which has a double meaning with "Happy Campers".  Together, we are happy campers in marriage, but Brian also has dreams of renting an RV in the summers and traveling across states as a family.  So this cup represents what we are, and what we will be.  Brian loved it!

For me, Brian bought a tin heart for keeping jewelry.

Marriage isn't a fairy tale.  It is hard work!  It takes much letting go of our own wants and desires and putting our spouse first.  Sometimes, we buck against the very idea!  When I had foot surgery in February, it was a hard time on us all.  I was completely down and out.  Brian had to step up and take care of the kids and do all my normal chores besides.  He even had to take care of me!  I couldn't even get into the shower without his help.  I joked with him then, if only our vows had included, "Brian, do you take Courtney, in foot surgery, and out of foot surgery?"  I felt so embarrassed to be reduced to a lump on the couch, and while I was grateful I could still take care of Anna to some degree (change diapers/clothing and nurse), and I could chop veggies and mix things if Brian brought them to me, it was so far from my usual workhorse self.  And yet, perhaps it wasn't a time wasted at all.  God taught Brian how to step it up, and He taught me how to appreciate my home in a far different way, even when things were quite out of control.  And while I was embarrassed to be reduced to what I was, for a time, I know I was SAFE with Brian.  He would love the weak Courtney, just as much as the strong.  For that, I am grateful.

Brian didn't picture those weeks of me being disabled, I am sure, when he was waiting for his bride to come gliding down the aisle.  And yet, his love and commitment to me kept him by my side, taking care of us all, even when it was far out of his comfort zone.

We are grateful that we have made it ten years.  God has brought us three beautiful children, which was one more than we thought we'd have!  Sure, we are bursting out of this house, but we are here, together.  

Please excuse my dorky selfie.  Really, in general I'm not much for selfies, unless one of the kids is in there with me.  Every year, I put on my wedding bracelet, earrings, and headband that I wore as a bride on my anniversary.  It is my way to connect with that day, and to feel a bit like a bride again, on a much smaller scale.  I mean, really, why wear those things only once?  And Anna noticed right away, wanting to play with them all, proving what a little princess she already is.

Happy Birthday, Silas! Six Years

Well, today was our Silas's birthday, and I like to continue my tradition of writing a brief blurb here on the old blog.  But today I had my second round of foot surgery to remove unwanted and unmissed hardware (Adios!), and I'm not up for too much other than resting and elevating.  And if you knew the state of our laptop, you'd know that there is no battery reserve, so that makes sitting with the computer impossible when not near an outlet.

So, I'll be back!  We love our Silas, even though the days are hard, we keep looking UP when we are feeling nothing but down.  God knows and loves Him, through and through.

More to come!

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I didn't intend to get foot surgery the day of Silas's birthday.  Actually, I didn't intend to get a second foot surgery this year.  After the long and difficult recovery from my first foot surgery back in February, I didn't want to go anywhere near the operating room.

After fifteen sessions of physical therapy back in May/June, my foot did improve somewhat, but I still didn't get the healing I was looking for.  I still walked with a limp, and I was still in more pain than I had been experiencing before my surgery in February.  This surgery was supposed to make me feel like I had a new foot!  The doctor suggested removing the screws, plates, and staple in my foot.  For some people, their bodies simply don't respond well to the hardware, and it causes them pain.  The hardware had done its job, and could be removed.

Still, I thought I would put the surgery off until next year.  Even though it was an easier surgery, I worked so hard to get back on my feet and I just didn't want to go under the knife again.  Then, it seems just as I made the decision to wait until next year, I swiftly changed my mind.  I particularly didn't like one staple, that you could both see and feel sticking slightly from my toe, and I just wanted to be done with it all and put this chapter of my life behind me.  So, I scurried back to the doctor as quickly as my feet would take me, and signed the consents for the hardware removal surgery.  That was July 22nd, the day before my birthday. 

I had no idea they'd get me in so quickly!  When the nurse called to say they could get me on the schedule for August 10, Silas's birthday, I felt badly about taking anything away from his day, but I decided to go for it.  Brian is off in the summer, and it would give me some time to heal before he headed back to work.  So I spent the two weeks making a few trips to the stores and taking care of things around the house.

And of course, I got everything ready for Silas's birthday ahead of time.

The surgery center is about an hour and forty minutes from our house, and I needed to be there at 7.  So we woke the kids up early, and left our house at 5:15.  Not fun.  The kids were real troopers, and after having done this in February, it was far easier this time around.  A)  The weather was warmer, and Brian could take the kids to a nearby park while I was in surgery and B)  This surgery was only about an hour (not counting pre-surgery and post-surgery times), while my other surgery was about five hours.  After Brian took the kids to the park, they only had to wait in the car for me about fifteen minutes, which was a major improvement compared to the hours and hours they spent in the car this past winter waiting for me.  (My original ride got COVID last minute back in February, so Brian had no choice but to take me along with the kids.)  

We had balloons for Silas in the car, since he loves balloons, and a trip to the park is a great way to celebrate his birthday, so I didn't have to feel too badly about him being stuck accompanying me to my surgery.  We got home just after noon (as opposed to after 5 my first surgery), and I had to fight off the sedation for the next few hours.  I was so tired!  Brian went down to Dunkin to get me an iced coffee, and it perked me up.  I didn't want to be half asleep through Silas's presents and cupcakes.  It did the trick, and I was able to enjoy Silas's birthday and serve his cupcakes and play with his presents.  I was happy to still be walking, which was a real treat after being off my feet for about 8 weeks after my first surgery.  (Also, I should mention the doctor decided to leave one screw in my foot, as he thought I would still need it for stability.)

We love our Silas, and while things are still hard in our lives right now, we pray for him every day, and we try to cheer him on and build him up as much as we can.  I don't know why he has to suffer like this.  I don't know why we have to suffer like this.  Because make no mistake, it is suffering.  But I know our God can be trusted.  I know He has a plan for our lives, and what's more, those who trust in Jesus have eternal life with Him.  I know this life is but a vapor, and even if Silas is not healed in this life (which we pray he will be), he will be completely whole in heaven.  

Silas is a little guy who likes things in order, and he is forever picking up things in the house and moving them back to their original places if they were moved.  This can be a blessing and a curse for us all.  He likes to sing, and he has many songs memorized from the Cedarmont Kids videos we have.  He's got a bunch of stuffed animals and toys he simply must bring to bed, and it is a wonder he gets any sleep at all with all that stuff in his bed!

When he smiles, you stop whatever you are doing and smile right back.  Nothing makes me happier than to see him happy!  

We have big dreams for him, because we serve a big God.  We love him, and though our lives might revolve around meltdowns, he is still ours.  He is loved by an all-powerful, holy, loving God, and that God knows him through and through.  His life has just as much importance as yours or mine.  

Here's our guy as he is about to eat his cupcake!  This guy has no sweets at all.  We are on a strict diet with him, and I sweetened his cupcakes with xylitol, which isn't a true sugar.  Let's just say he was well aware of the treat he was having, and he savored every bite!

Here are some pics of the kids on the deck this past week!

So, this was really a 9, because the store was out of a 6.  Shhh, it is our secret, okay?

Happy Birthday, Caleb! Eight Years

Before we get to the topic at hand, let me just say that I had foot surgery this past February, and I had no idea that I would basically be signing my life away.  I only just started walking last week, without crutches or a walker.  (I ended up using a walker after 6 weeks on the crutches, when the crutches finally killed my ribs.)  It's been a long journey, I've been very discouraged at times, and I'm still not completely out the other side.  I am walking, but it hurts badly at times, and I have weeks of physical therapy ahead of me.  

But enough about that.  It was Caleb's birthday today!

Caleb has had a good year!  He's learning so much in homeschool and he's doing great with reading!  He loves to draw, especially the Veggie Tales characters.  He's a good big brother to Anna, and he has fun playing with her.  Caleb was a big help to his poor mama, when I was stuck on the couch for so long, and he became my fetcher on a regular basis.

I don't know what his brain is made of, but he has got a quite a head for geography.  He knows the exits on the interstate better than we do and what place is at which number.  Whenever Brian or I go out, Caleb wants to know exactly where.  If he doesn't know the place, he will question us as to where the place is located.  I have no doubt that one day soon he will be better than I am with directions.  He knows where all the states are.  He's really sharp in this area, and I can't wait to see what he'll do with it!

He, like any kid, loves to eat, and after almost every meal, he thanks me for it and says it was very good!  The little guy knows how to melt his mama's heart!  He's really a good eater, and like any of us, has one or two things he doesn't like, but overall he is easy to please!

Caleb loves to go grocery shopping with me, or at least, he did when I used to go!  I still don't have the strength to go shopping yet with my foot.  I am looking forward to going with him again, because it was "our thing" we did together!  I miss it!

This past January, Caleb accepted Jesus into his heart!  I was so privileged and honored to lead Him in a prayer.  

Time is flying by so quickly, and in only ten years, our boy could very well be leaving home.  I've got to make these years count as much as I can, and not waste the precious hours God gives me with my children.

Here's Caleb early in the morning on his birthday, wearing a new outfit I got him.  I picked the planet shirt since we studied the planets in science.

Caleb was reading aloud to us the card we gave him.

I made cupcakes with xylitol this year, since Silas has Candida in his gut and cannot eat sugar (even the "good" ones, such as honey).  Xylitol doesn't feed the Candida like sugars do, but it is expensive, and so I only will use it about three times a year.

Here is our big 8 year old!  Getting these balloons has become a fun tradition in our house!

We got Caleb a new backpack, and he loves it!

We also got Caleb a scooter, and I think that is his favorite present.  He also got a fun flying helicopter, and more books to read.  It was a great day!  

Anna: 12 Months

Dearest Anna Lynn,

Oh, where does one begin, when one's heart is overflowing with emotions, spilling over with love, and bursting the floodgates with fuzzy feelings?

Give me a moment, and I will get myself together.

Our dear girl, how we love you!  Here we were today, showering you with gifts, when we have been the ones who have received the greatest gift- the gift of being your parents.  

Everyone says it, and it is no less true here.  This year has flown by!  I can scarcely believe it, and I have to look back at my old blog posts to see the proof myself.  Didn't we bring you home from the hospital just last month?  Surely it was!  It couldn't possibly have been one year ago.  I don't believe it for a second.

And yet, here you are.  The newborn is gone, but in its place is a chubby toddler.  No, you aren't walking, or anywhere close, but the experts say that once you reach a year, you are a toddler.  I say "nonsense" to that for now.  You are still my baby, and will be for a while.

Oh, darling girl, you are busy these days!  You are crawling all over, and you are into everything.  Caleb still gets mad when you get in his stuff, which is about ten times a day.  You just learned how to use the little hammer toy this past week, and I was so proud of you as you studied me first doing it, and then you gave it a try for yourself, and successfully pounded the ball into the hole.  You wave and point here and there, when you feel like it, and you love to turn through the pages of a book.  At naptime, you almost put me to sleep, as I watch you over and over turn the pages, and nothing is more soothing to me than watching people (kids especially) turn through pages of a book, engrossed in the task.  I have to rouse myself to properly put you down!

Speaking of naps, you are a stinky napper.  I have tried and tried.  Allowing you to cry-it-out, redoing the routine again after a short nap and putting you back down... it doesn't work.  I have learned to let it go and be grateful for the sleep you do get.  You sleep well overnight at least.  You are down early, since you are a lousy napper, and for now your bedtime is around 5:30-5:45 depending.  You sleep generally until 5 a.m., at which point I come in to nurse you, and depending on the day, sometimes put you down for more sleep.  In that case, you usually sleep once again until 6-6:15.  Then we start our day!

You enjoy being read to, and you love it when I point to the alphabet letters in a book and sing the song.  I wouldn't be surprised if you know some of them by now.  We spend our days playing together, and you can be sure Caleb is always ready to join us on the floor, and many times he sits with you when I am busy in the kitchen.  You love it when we build towers that you can knock down, and you enjoy banging your mini cymbals together.  Daddy can work with you on that and any other instrument you desire to learn when you are ready for more!  

Kitty still makes you smile, though you have settled down a bit.  Daddy swore he heard you say "kitty" one day, though I didn't hear it myself.  You say a lot of "da da" but I haven't heard too much else yet.  

I love to get your attention by singing one of my songs for you.  You get all excited and your arms start waving and the bouncing begins as you wait for me to swoop you up.  I thought Silas was a "mama's boy" and he was in every sense, but you are proving to be a "mama's girl" too.  You keep me on a tight leash.  You are always looking for me, crawling to me, demanding my attention, wanting to nurse, or just wanting my company.  Sometimes, I sneak to the store when you are down for nap, and Daddy gets you when you wake up.  He always reports you are disgruntled when you awake to find me not there.  As soon as I appear, the desperate fuss begins, as if you are saying to me, "How dare you leave, and make sure you don't do that again!"  Oh, dear girl, I am never gone too long, and my heart couldn't belong to you any more than it already does.  You have nothing to fear.  

My sweetheart girl, I rejoice in the gift that God gave us in you.  We are so happy to have the daughter we waited for, for so long.  You have given us joy right when we needed it.  It isn't always an easy house to be in.  Silas, your big brother whom you try to get to know, but stands aloof from you, is in the height of meltdowns, and the days are often hard.  I pray this won't affect you negatively, but we have to leave that in God's hands for now.  We have to trust that the God who gave us you, knowing our circumstances, will see us through.

I look forward to the next few months and watching you learn new skills!  I can't wait for the spring and the park, the slides, and the swings.  You are going to love it all, no doubt!  In the next month or two, you'll be taking those first steps!  When you are in my lap, you are trying to get on your feet, with your arms holding onto me for support.  I'll be there for you, Anna Darling, when you need me to hold on as you gain your strength.  And I'll be there, too, when you need me to let go.  No matter what, I'll be cheering you on.

Anna Lynn, thank you for making our dreams come true!  For years we wondered where you were, if we'd ever have you.  Well, you're here now.  Not late at all, but right on time, according to God's plan.

We love you!  And we love the God who made you!  We will teach you about Him too, my girl.  Life is a gift that He gives, so let us give our lives back to Him.

Happy first birthday!  We love you forever.

Love,

Mama and Daddy

Anna is wearing a felt crown that my sister mailed to us in time for her birthday, a hand-me-down and worn for years by nieces Emily and Lindsey on their birthdays.  We are glad to continue the tradition!  Still a little big, but she'll grow into it!