Chapter Fourteen: "Hosanna"

We decided today to get up early and drive home and be with our Church family.

We decided this last week, what we didn't know is that we would be celebrating.

After forty long days in intensive care, forty days of worry, of highs and lows, of tears and prayers, and phone call checks in the middle of the night. After one heart surgery, one heart cath procedure, we are out of intensive care.

Blair and I decided to take Ellie to the zoo Saturday (pictures to come, she loved the panda bears) and while we were there we found out they put the order into move him. This Mama cried. Right there by the panda bears. We went home when it started to rain, Ellie and I napped, when I woke up, they called us and told us they had moved him.

I can't begin to describe the joy I felt.

We got to celebrate with our church family. People who love us and have been praying for us. People who have supported us with financial needs, groceries, offers to clean our house, offers to visit us here in DC, to get our mail, to watch Ellie, and always always always they are praying. Always.

I completely forgot that it is Palm Sunday. Time seems to slip from me easily. So here we are with our church family, celebrating Dean's step down, celebrating the coming of the King, singing Hosanna.

I love that word, Hosanna. I love Palm Sunday. The celebration, the story, the start. Hosanna my heart sings, blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna.

Last year during this time, I started a poem? Prose? Thought? Thought is probably the best word. As we sang the song Hosanna, as we welcomed the king, I asked my heart, do you truly welcome Him in?

We sing Hosanna often, not just during the Easter season. We sing it on a Sunday, we open our hearts, we are close to the Lord that day. How often though (And I am guilty of this) do we sing Hosanna on a Sunday morning and then go on with our lives as though we weren't just welcoming in the King?

Hosanna becomes just another word, we don't take into our hearts and live it.

I am learning how to live it though.
,
Hosanna, my heart sings, on those hard days when I feel like we won't make it through this.
Hosanna, my heart sings, when we find out Dean has had a great day.
Hosanna, my heart sings, when we find out Dean has NOT had a great day.
Hosanna, my heart sings, when I am pumping for the seventh time today.
Hosanna, my heart sings, when my husband makes a mistake and gets a ticket.
Hosanna, my heart sings, when I see Dean throw up from drug withdrawal.
Hosanna, my heart sings, when I get to hold him, wires and all.
Hosanna, my heart sings, when I can put my hand to his little chest and feel his beautifully patched together heart. The one that shouldn't be working. The one that did need and will need, so much help...

Hosanna, Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord.
Welcome to the King of Kings.

This is not a Sunday morning ministration, but an anthem for the daily. I am learning to welcome the King, not just one Sunday in a year, but every day. In every way. Terrible things happen to people I love who I care for. Hard things that I want to carry for them, as I'm sure people wish they could have carried some of this for us. The fact remains that He. Is. King.

And as my pastor reminded me today, He Wins.
Over sickness and death, He Wins.
Over addiction and pain, He Wins.
Over bitterness and jealousy, He Wins.
Over loss and strife, He wins.

Live Hosanna with me friends.
Welcome the King into your life, not just once in a year, but every day.
Sing it in your heart. Cling to it in the darkness and the ashes.

I am greeting these next days with Joy in my heart that is unimaginable, with the hope that we are going to get to take Little Dean home. I see a light at the end of this tunnel...knowing that home doesn't mean the end of his medical need, but that it is a chance for me to snuggle him and Ellie close. That we will be a family of four, all together...something my very soul longs for.

My heart sings Hosanna.
It welcomes the King.
Every day.

Chapter Seven: "Dear Ellie..."

Dear Ellie,

This is as much your story as it is your little brothers. You don't know this, but you are giving up so so so much so that Daddy and I can be with him. You won't remember so I want to tell you, because it is important.

You are such a little girl. So tiny still. I feel like your little brother will take very much after the Carrigan side of things, as you took after the Jaques side of things. He might outweigh you pretty quickly. You will always be the big sister though. You will always have 20 months of life on him and trust me, that 20 months will go a long way at some point.

Don't forget that I had you first. Don't forget how precious those 19 months of just you and me and Daddy were. Don't ever, even for a minute, think I don't love you as much now that you have a brother.

My heart grows to hold both of you, in big big ways.

I want you to know that people love you. Uncle John and Aunt Kackie who watched you while I was in labor, giving up their Super Bowl Sunday to come take you. Mimi who flew all the way from India to meet your brother and to be here to play with you...I can't tell you how wonderful it was to know that you were with her. That she was with you. Grammy and Grumpy who might have you for a month or two while we wait and see how baby brother does. All of these people love you, so much.

None of them are Me though.

I feel guilty Ellie. I feel like less of a Mommy because I can't do everything for both of my babies. I miss you during the week in the worst ways. I'm terrified I'm going to annoy Grammy because I ask after you all the time. I'm terrified that she will resent having to look after you for weeks while I'm here at a hospital. (She assures me this is not the case...but she's your Grammy, not your Mommy, and I don't want you to ever forget that). (So for now, it's fine that she gives you ginger snaps with whipped cream).

I have to fight every day to remember that this is what God has given us. I have to fight every day to remember that in Christ I am enough, and I want to fight, because I want you to know that. You are loved. You are enough. You are strong. You are beautiful. You are kind. You are a Daughter of Christ and His love for you is BEYOND what I will ever be able to tell you.

But if I don't believe those things for myself, I know you will never believe them for yourself.

So I fight.

We're fighters Ellie. We come from some strong women, women who have been through the ringer and come out stronger on the other side.

You and me, girlfriend, we're going to come out stronger from this.

I'm going to ask so much of you one day, especially when it comes to your little brother. I'm going to ask you be kinder and gentler to him. I'm going to ask you to protect him and watch out for him on the bus and while you guys are at school. I'm going to ask you to take care of him when I can't, and I'm going to ask you to stick up for him when I'm treating him like a fragile baby doll. He's not. My head knows this, but my heart doesn't yet. Be his Big Sister. Stand up to me sometimes too.

Already you are giving up so much time with me and Daddy. Already you are making sacrifices of love, already you are showing your little brother how much you love him, simply by letting me and Daddy be here while the Doctors fix his "owies" as you like to call it. Already you are strong and teaching me to be strong. Already you show me so much compassion when you snuggle me while I cry, just because I have the privilege of holding you.

We are going to argue one day Ellie girl. We are going to fight and scream and be so so angry at each other. I might not like you and you might not like me. In fact, I promise that we won't like each other for a while. I also promise that at the end of the day, there is nothing you could do that would make me love you less. Never. My Mama said that to me once and I will say it to you, because it's truth.

You won't remember the long weeks without us, you won't remember the Facetime calls or the Skype Dates. You won't remember the tedious car rides where you tell me "ow ow ow" just because you want out of the car seat.

You won't know that I cried the other night because I just wanted to be home with my babies, you won't know that my heart hurts every time I had to leave you.

You wouldn't know any of this, unless I told you. And I want to tell you Ellie girl.

Because your brother is fighting a battle. Because you and me and Daddy...we are all fighting a battle.

And without you, you brave strong beautiful little girl, we wouldn't make such a great team.

Deano's story is your story too Ellie.

Don't forget that.

Love,
Mama

Chapter Six: "Celebrate the Highs and Pray through the Lows"

Blair and I have a lot time to talk right now. We cover a wide variety of things and a lot of what I start to think about stems from that.

Today we were, of course, talking about our son.

I was asking him if I seemed to pessimistic, and he said that at times, yes, I am. I thought I was being realistic about what all is happening, but Blair just said "Sometimes, I wish you would be less...scared and more trusting." (Maybe not in those exact words, but that's what I got from his tone and as we talked more, I think this was what he was trying to say.)

As we drove home from the hospital tonight I wondered "Is this what Love really looks like?"

Let me back up here...

I didn't think a lot about this time while we were pregnant. I knew in my head that we would spend a lot of time at the hospital. I knew that it would be hard to see my son go through these surgeries. I knew that I wouldn't get to hold him like I wanted, or feed him like I wanted for a while. I accepted it.

But I didn't let it sink in, and I think this, in the end, worked against me.

Here is the truth. Cold and hard and fact: I was afraid of loving my son too much.

Afraid that if I gave my whole heart into loving him he would never wake up. Afraid, every single step of the way, that at some point we would receive that call. The one every parent dreads when they are away from their children. Oh the trust that Mama's must put in others and in God...

It was easier, for a time, to remain aloof, to think in facts, to make light of the good days, brushing them off. In my mind good news was fleeting and I was waiting waiting waiting for something that might never happen. I watched my husband and my family and his family celebrate every mile stone, as small as they might be, but my heart couldn't commit to celebrating with them. It was too afraid.

My sister in law, one of them, texted me the other day. I hope she doesn't mind me sharing this, but it's been resounding like drums in my heart ever since I read it. She said "...It makes me miss everyone more than I usually do but at the same time I feel closer to everyone as we all come together to celebrate the highs and pray through the lows."

Here is my family celebrating every weaned medicine, every open eye, every single bit of good news and here I was, his Mama, holding back. Waiting for the bad. Expecting it. Preparing for it.

Is this what real Love really is?

Committing to the highs and the lows? Embracing every single beautiful moment, moving forward, and truly loosing your heart to another human?

It's still widely thought that love doesn't hurt. Because I'm in a real place and because I can, I'm calling BS.

Yeah...yeah it would hurt to lose my son. Yeah it hurts every time I watch him struggle to cry. Yeah it hurts every time I see his blood pressure go up and can't do anything about it. Yeah it hurt to see him cut open, his heart beating there in his chest, pale, and un-moving except for that beating. Yeah it hurt to not be able to hold him. Yeah it hurt that he didn't move or open his eyes for ten days. Yes. Yes this type of love is so big and so crazy and so wonderful that it hurts.

Tonight I helped change his diaper twice. I...why is it so important and significant that I changed my sons diaper? Because he is my son and I love him and this is the first time I have changed his diaper.

Tonight I rubbed my lips and nose on his precious little head. I sang him songs that I sing to his sister and read my favorite psalms to him. Why is this so important and significant?

Because tonight, I just...I just stopped holding back. I just finally felt like this is my baby and this is his life and yes, yes scary things might happen with him. I just finally opened my heart to him and welcomed him in there no matter how much it hurts or might hurt. I don't want my son to remember all his life that his mom thought he was too fragile to love.

Let me repeat that, more for me than you.

I don't want my son to remember all his life that his mom thought he was too fragile to love.

He got his feeding tube put in today and he got the colostrum I worked and worked for. It just...felt like...Christmas morning and my Birthday and his Birthday and every other significant day ever. It felt big. So so big. And I celebrated and was excited and won't shut up about how beautiful he is and wonderful it is to see his eyes and stroke his hair and rub his legs and to sing to him and hear him calm...

Is this what Love really looks like?

Yeah. Love is celebrating the highs and praying through the lows and opening your heart to the possibility that it will be crushed like never before. It's so big and wonderful that it doesn't matter. It will never matter that my son might end up being the one who breaks my heart or that my daughter could break my heart...children have an amazing hold on their mama's. Whether they are on this side of Heaven or not.

My mind drifts back to Jesus on the cross. It drifts there a lot. His heart, God's heart, broke for us all that day. Sinners everyone. We, as children, have the ability to hurt the Lord like no other and He STILL did it for us, still gave up His life. It is important to remind myself: my children hold only pieces of my heart, my God holds all of it. And He has some strong super glue. With that glue I can love and love freely, no matter what might or might not happen, because the Lord can always glue the pieces of my heart back together and make it even more beautiful.

As we get older...we start to see love in new ways. I just never thought my children would teach me so much. I just had no inkling that my son, this barely two week old baby, would be able to teach me more about love in those barely two weeks than I've learned in three years of marriage.

Love is celebrating the highs and praying through the lows and opening your heart, no matter the circumstances. It's not just children either, husbands, wives, parents, siblings, friends all have the ability to hurt you so deeply that you think you won't be able to bounce back.

I refuse to live with my heart closed to love. Refuse to act like just because someone has the ability to hurt me (whether on purpose, or just through circumstances) that I won't love them.

It's Big and Wonderful and Scary and Awesome. It's Highs and Lows and every step in between.

And worth it.

Love is worth it.

What I Pray For

Many people will not like what I'm about to say.

Please bare with me and wait until the end.

Please keep in mind this is my personal blog, and I am writing to share/process this journey.

Please be kind.

I am not praying for God to miraculously heal my son. I am not praying that when he is born he will not need surgeries and that his heart will be healed. 

You may pray for these things if you'd like, but please, refrain from telling me you are doing so.

I promise you, I have reasons.

I believe that God is big. Bigger than you or I could ever imagine. I believe that if He wanted to, He COULD heal my son, in a heart beat (no pun intended there). I believe that God raised people from the dead, healed them by His touch, cured the diseased, and made the blind see. I believe He is the same God today that He was then, and if He wanted to, He could do whatever He wanted.

For some reason (one I may never know) He has chosen my son, our son, to have a heart condition. One that really won't ever be truly cured unless there are major advances in medical science (totally possible! Please pray for that!) or by a completely new heart.

Every month, a lot of times two or three times a month, I go to a Doctor's office, lay on a table, get some goo put on me and they check on his heart. I lay there uncomfortably and see exactly what the doctors are talking about. Half of my sons heart doesn't work. I see this. Every. Single. Month.

When I went in December, maybe...to be truthful, I was hoping that the ultrasound they showed would be wrong. I was hoping I could get in the car and call about five million people and say "See, look, God HAS healed him!"

But this is not what God did. This is not my sons story.

There are lots of people praying for miracles. Lots of people who have loved ones going through terrible battles who would love to see God's hand in their lives...in the way they WANT to see God's hand.

I am...am asking a lot of God right now. I am asking for strength, and patience. I am asking for Joy in the middle of what could possible be something terrifying. I am asking for Guidance, to do the right things as we go to have our son and as he prepares for his surgery. I am asking that no matter what I keep my eyes and heart focused on this Big God who has chosen us and my son to do Big things.

But I do not need to ask God to miraculously heal him. Because maybe to God that means my son goes to Heaven before I do. Maybe to God, THIS is our miracle, that we get to draw deeper and deeper to Him in this, our time of utter dependence on Him.

I am praying for God's Will to be evident in our lives and in our sons life, and that We, as a Husband and Wife, as a Mother and Father, glorify Him, no matter what the outcome, no matter how hard, no matter what.

If my son is born and they find out that his heart is fine, Praise God.

If my son is born and whisked away because half his heart doesn't work, Praise God.

If my son doesn't survive birth, Praise God.

If my son doesn't survive the first, second, third surgery, Praise God.

If my son survives and thrives for 20 years and developed complications later, Praise God.

It is easy to say these things now, hard as they may be, but it will so much harder to live them out. Please...please pray that We glorify God in this situation. Please...please pray for the Doctors and Nurses that will be taking care of our son. Please...please pray for the other families who just spent Christmas and New Years in the Hospital, praying that their child's numbers get good enough to come home. Please pray that Blair and I have the opportunity to pour Hope into other families facing the same challenges. Please pray that God's Will be evident and that we accept it with Grace and Beauty. Please pray that we rely on the Lord and the amazing Support that we have had during this time. Please pray that my emotions stay in check when they induce me, that the Lord give me a Spirit of Strength and Hope, that I do not fear. Please Pray for Blair as he misses work, and tries to take care of me, Ellie, and our Son. Please pray that Ellie have such a grand time with others that she doesn't realize how long Mommy has been gone. Please pray that the she is taken care of so well that I don't even have a second to worry about her. Please pray for our own hearts, as we see our child hooked up to tubes, with a scar down his chest. Please pray that we budget well, that our finances stay secure while we are in the hospital.

Please Praise God with us, that we have had our son as long as we have had him. Praise God that we have seen an out pouring of love and support.

Life, in and of itself, however God chooses to bring it, is a Miracle.

We don't need one my friends, we already have one.

Thank you.

I've been trying to think of the best way to start this post. I've had a hard time with it. I don't articulate well these days and I don't ever want to sound unkind. 

We had an appointment yesterday and I haven't really talked about it (except for a select group of people). I know that I don't owe anyone anything, updates, thoughts, feelings...I share because I want to. However, I share when I want to. 

Seeing Tinman's cardiac pediatrician always just throws me off. It always just sorta sucks. I hate the echo-cardiograms and the ultrasounds, I hate visibly seeing his heart up on the screen. It's pretty clear at this point. You can see where the left of part of his heart doesn't work. Having Blair there helped so much yesterday and I'm thankful he was there. It still throws me off and hurts my heart. 

I was just done yesterday. I just wanted to ignore the whole world and cuddle Ellie and snuggle next to Blair. Nothing new happened, we didn't receive more or less information, I just wanted to be home and forget anything else existed. 

I'm having a hard time right now being graceful. Tactful. People wanted to know how it went and how we were doing and it's so sweet, so many people care, and I'm so so so thankful. Some days though...some days, I just...I'm angry. I was angry yesterday. At everyone. At no one. At myself. At any person who dared to message me. Wonderful people who care so much about Blair and I...and I just wanted to be mean. 

I didn't say much of anything to anyone, because it's very strange for me to feel this way. I'm used to people not knowing what to say. People did that after our miscarriages. People did that when I lost 50 pounds with Ellie. I realize people think I'm strong and that I'm handling this well and that they just don't know what to say and they care so they want to say something. 

My son will never have a normal heart. These surgeries prolong his life and give us so much more time than other people in the past have had, but he will always need to be careful. He will always need to be monitored. Unless someone gives him a whole new heart one day he will never be "fixed". Please don't say to me, at least there are surgeries. 

What terrible words...at least. 

Those words, never, in any situation, make someone feel better. 

I am thankful for the time we will have and already have had with our son. I am thankful that they will work on his heart and give us more time. I am thankful that medicine has come this far. 

I am scared. I am scared he won't make it through that first surgery. I am scared that the right ventricle of his heart will decide it's too much work and wimp out too (which, I found out yesterday is something we need to be watching for). I am scared that he will never want to nurse from my breast. I am scared that Ellie will scream every time she has to leave me, because she realizes that Mommy doesn't get to come home. 

I am scared and thankful and so full of so many emotions that some days it's all too much. 

I wish my Mother in Law could be home when he's born, so her calm voice of reason and her "we're going to make a plan and make it happen" attitude will help me on my emotional days. 

I wish I knew if after he's born if I will be able to go back to work and I don't know that yet. 

I wish that I didn't have to look into being induced because if for any reason I went into labor on my own and had my son in the car, it would be bad bad bad news bears. 

I wish and hope and pray a lot of things right now. 

Appointment days end up being bad days. Yesterday I needed to calm and quiet myself and sit at Jesus feet and tell him all these things and more. Because I know this will bring me and Blair and even Ellie closer to God. I know that we will reap in joy after these tears and hard times. I know that no matter what I feel God is holding me closely and whispering his love for me.  I know that it's ok to admit how scared I am, because once I admit that God can take it and remind me, "Fear not, for I am with you, I will not forsake you". 

I talk about this a lot. I'm going to keep talking about it. I know some people will not want to listen and that's ok. Waiting for Tinman to be born is like being stuck in a weird limbo where I know what's going to happen...and I'm just...just waiting for it. It's not my favorite place to be. 

I don't mean to offend anyone or upset them when I say that I might get a little distant from people. understand that as much as I push people away your support and love mean the world to me during this time. I just...I just don't always want to talk about it. It's so much easier to write about this all once I've had time to process this than to have to talk about it when I'm grocery shopping at Walmart. 

The more information we gather and the closer I get to welcoming my son earth side the crazier I feel I become. 

Please please please, I beg for your patience. That's all I know to ask for right now.

A Christmas Time Thought

Every now and again I have this thought, "Lord, why my son? Why my family? Why us? Why me?"

I can't help it, it's in my nature (the human part of it anyways). I've been working on taking my thoughts captive (shout out to Katharine for holding me accountable for real and entering into an awesome discipleship relationship with me) and the last time I had this thought, we were in church.

It popped in there while we were singing Christmas songs. It's a normal happening in December. You hear them all over. When did I stop listening to them though?

We sing about a King come down from His throne, about a Father letting go of His son, of angels, and Emmanuel. On the radio we question, Mary, did you know?

Did she?

I think about Mary a lot right now. Especially after having Ellie, even after we were pregnant with our first baby. I think about the way the Nativity is portrayed and how it all always seems too perfect to me.

Labor was awesome, but it was hard. I looked a hot mess afterwards. Most woman do. I believe Mary did. When they laid Ellie on my chest in all her grossness and glory, it was awesome. I wonder if that's how it looked for Mary.

I wonder if she had problems getting Jesus to latch on and nurse. I wonder if Joseph knew what to do to help her while in labor, like Blair knew how to help me. I wonder if a Midwife was found to attend Mary or if she went for it like some of my friends have. I wonder when she started crying, because Lord knows, at some point she probably did.

I wonder if she thought about these things while Jesus was on the cross. I wonder if it ever entered her mind "Why my son?"

How could she know while she was in the throes of laboring to bring Him to this world that He would save it? How could she know that while she nursed Him as an infant, I would pray to Him for strength when my son was diagnosed with something that, though can be helped with surgeries, would affect him for the rest of his life? I don't think she had any idea. I don't think she could have carried that...

I think Mary was like me. I think she had her moments. I think she had good days and bad days and watching her son die on a cross for loads of people who she didn't even know might not have been a good day for her. I hope she took her thoughts captive though. I hope she caught that one and changed it like I did.

Why my son?

Why NOT my son? Why CAN'T God use this for His glory? Why WOULDN'T He chose my little family to point to Him during this crazy ride?

Believe me, I have my days and moments. I talk about this a lot right now. I'm researching Congenital Heart Defects and Hydro-plastic Left Heart Syndrome and finding out that it's really not that common. I'm finding out that yes, there are surgeries to help our son, but that he might always have issues.

I am going to fight though, to keep in mind that God does what He wants. And my response is to bring Glory to Him. No matter the circumstances.

Or maybe today was just a good day.
Maybe tomorrow won't be.

Maybe the day Jesus was crucified was a bad day for Mary.
But Oh Man...Oh Man, she was around the day He came back. 

And that, my friends, was a good day indeed. 

Gifts

Every now and again, I get these thoughts. They stick with me, glued there in the back of my mind. I’m not sure what started this thought. I’m not sure where it came from. Nothing in particular happened. It just started. Now it won’t stop until I just share it.

It’s not for who you might think it’s for. In fact, the intended audience even surprises me. When this one tiny thought bubbled into my head it exploded at a group of my peers. At my community. At the Christians in this world, in this County, in this state, maybe even in my home town.

Here’s the deal: we had a baby. A beautiful, precious baby girl. We are and were young. We are and were not sure what we were doing. We were sure of one thing though, and that is what the bible has to say about children, about babies. About them being a blessing. About how Faith can be as small as a mustard seed and it can be all that you need.

Not everyone applies this to every aspect of their lives though.

Christians, when did babies and children become what the world thinks instead of what God thinks? When did we decide to pass judgment on our own people, the ones who feel called to raise and love their children? When did we decide that we needed to comment on how many kids a woman has, or how far apart her children are? Why can’t we simply love one another and stay out of their uteruses?

I don’t understand. I don’t understand being told that Eleanor was a choice. She was our choice? Really? Is that why I cried when I found out I was pregnant with her, terrified I would watch myself bled out and miscarry again? I really wanted that, right. I had to give up a lot of fear and doubt and remember that the God who parted the Red Sea was also the God who had given my husband and I this gift.

We need to change how we think Christians.

When we devalue the loss of a baby at 7 weeks, we are devaluing life. If you read the Bible, you know that life is important to God. So we get up in arms about abortion but don’t comfort the weeping mother who is struggling with each day because she miscarried? I don’t understand. We preach and tell the world that babies are not choices, and then we tell young Christian couples that it was their choice to have babies so they can deal with all that entails on their own? What?

We needed help after our daughter was born. We still do. I still go talk to my mother and other Christian women in my church, asking for their help, advice, and comfort. I still need help doing laundry some days, because I’m just so tired. I still text my sister in law about things like cradle cap, and ask my best friend who had her daughter the same day if she is experiencing the same thing.

I’m not asking people to pay our hospital bills. I’m not asking people to be up with me at four am. I am tired, but I don’t go around complaining about it, I knew I would be. Believe me, you adjust. You become less selfish. You have to. It’s not about you anymore.

I am asking that people love us. That they don’t say demeaning things. That they don’t judge the piles of laundry, or make fun of me because I didn’t do half the things I thought I’d do. I am asking that Christians stop acting like babies are only good under certain circumstances, within the walls that they place. Christ lived outside of the boxes we put Him in. If He’s bigger than all the things we say He’s bigger than, then why aren’t children included in that?

We are such a society that picks and chooses.

So. To every couple that had a honey moon baby, to every mother who just didn’t have time to shower. To all the Mommy’s who are crying right now because it’s their third, fourth, or Heaven forbid, fifth child and they don’t feel loved, to every mom who knows what it’s like to be sick and nursing an infant, to all the Dad’s who work to pay bills and feel that they aren’t home enough. To the Momma in the grocery store with the screaming two year old and the round belly of life, to all those who feel like you are devalued because how much you love you babies, or are afraid to announce your fifth precious baby, please know, from the bottom of my heart, I. Love. You.

You are enough. You are beautiful. You are hard working. You valued in the eyes of our Savior. I feel like this has been said before, there are plenty of blog posts out there that say these same things. But it needs to be said, again and again and again. Because our hearts are so full of love, because we think that no one knows how we feel. Because someone in your Church made a comment about how “it’s your fifth so you don’t need a baby shower”. Every child is a gift. Not a choice. If they were choices, there wouldn’t be any children. Because our world is a selfish one. And Christians are just swimming right along with the world…and I can’t stand it any more…

What I've Been Learning

It had been quite some time since I have taken the time to sit down and write. I've (as per usual) written several posts in the interim, with the INTENTION of typing it all out for you all. But the truth of it, I have been far to preoccupied to actually sit and write it all down.

My baby girl is already growing too fast. We have visited family, taken road trips, gone to the doctor (maybe because I'm slightly paranoid), taken about thirty billion pictures, and I have learned so much about grace and love and myself that to begin to tell you about it would take eons.

Eleanor is sleeping in her swing. She is napping, late at night, and I am letting her. Maybe I let her grandmother feed her a bottle, maybe I prayed she would sleep so that I could nap as well. Maybe there is a large pile of clothes on our bed waiting to be folded. And they might continue to wait while I write about how the motherhood thing has taken me and stretched me and made me so much better.

This week God truly worked in my heart to remind me to stop thinking so much of self and to start thinking more about the cross. About selflessness. I've read articles written by other mothers that brought me to tears, and I've sat in my car and cried out to the Lord, and I've sung "Lord I need you, Oh I need you, every hour I need you" quietly to my girl at three AM when she woke up to eat. I want Ellie to know the Lord, His Grace, but if I can't show it to her, then who will she learn it from?

I've caught myself thinking things like "I just want to read, alone, for an hour without worrying about her" or "I used to be able to go to the gym whenever I wanted" or "I used to spend hours painting". All things that I used to do, by myself. Things are not easy. I can't just go out without making sure she is taken care of or making sure that I have my pump (things can be uncomfortable pretty quickly without it...), things as easy as running into a store are difficult now. I found myself resenting it. Resenting the slow down pace I need to take now. Resenting that the room is never clean enough or the laundry never seems to actually be done.

So I had a moment. God reminded me, gently like He does, that His grace is enough. That letting laundry be put to the side to snuggle my precious girl is ok. That she is worth not having the time to read, or paint, or draw like I used. Not that I don't still get to do those things, I am and I have been doing the things I love. Maybe I can't devote hours to them, but I am still me. I am just me with this beautiful baby girl.

She is enough. I've said before that I never knew how selfish I was until I got married. Now I have to triple that since I've been blessed to be a mother. I have been called to this. My hear feels so full when I see her little face. Knowing that for her, I am her world right now. She is completely dependent on me, she loves me. And you know, things are so easy right now, I think most first time parents would tell you that this time was challenging for them as well. But Ellie has no idea.

She has no idea that laundry doesn't get done on time. She has no idea that I'm exhausted when I come home from work. She has no idea that sometimes I get crazy and annoyed with people. She has no idea that sometimes Blair and I fight. She has no idea what bills are, or what money is. She has no idea that we live with her grandparents. Do you know she knows? Love. Our voices. Our faces. She knows that in the middle of the night I pick her up to feed her. She knows that I change her diapers and wash her little body. She knows that I keep her close and snuggle her when her Aunt Abbie accidentally hits her head. She got so upset that she was hurt...and calmed as soon as she was in my arms. She knows me. She knows love.

And if that is enough for her, that's enough for me.

This motherhood thing is no joke. For anyone. Whether you stay at home, work full time or part time, it doesn't matter. It is a calling, one worthy of all my time and selflessness.

Eleanor ranks so much higher in my life than all those other things that used to be or could have been important.

Anyways, that's what I've been thinking about. Here, have some pictures. These are a few of my favorites. :)

Almost There

This summer, I've been stretched in ways I never thought possible. Being a mother is single handedly the hardest and best thing I have ever done. It has made me realize how incredible God is, and how much I need help. It also made me realize how much I need time to myself. Sometimes taking a shower is the best thing that ever happened in the whole world.

I've thought a lot about some things I really want to share with people. I think, more than anything, it comes to this: it amazing to be around people who know my heart.

For as long as I can remember this is what I've wanted. Last night, Ellie decided sleep was not what she wanted or needed, so I was rocking and singing to Itty Bitty, talking to Blair. I said "Sometimes, I don't think you understand the gift you've given me." Even at four in the morning, with only cat naps to go on, I remembered that this is what I've wanted my whole life. I've wanted to be a Mommy, I've wanted to be a Wife, I wanted the four AM feedings, the diaper changes, and that sweet smile Ellie has while she nurses so close to my heart.

A lot of the people in my life know this. I got a hug from a great friend at camp and she whispered to me "I'm glad you have your dream." (I'm glad she is getting hers as well.) I would not say I'm where I want to be in life, by no means have I "arrived". But I'm so much closer. So so so much closer.

Thank you. Thank you to the friends who stood by me when I became enamored with my first my husband, then my daughter. Thank you to the friends who know that my life is different now. Thank you to the friends who knew that I would not be as available as I used to be. Thank you to you all, because I'm still me, and I needed support.

I love Blair. I love my Ellie girl. I love this stupid little room where we live for right now. I don't always mind four am any more, and I realize that I will probably not sleep through the night for a long long long time. I am learning what is worth saying to my husband and what I need to keep to myself. I am learning how to balance time with a baby who depends solely on me for food and comfort, with a husband who is still very very very much in love with me. I am learning to still love my body, despite wider hips and a flabbier belly and less time to devote to working out. I am learning how to find God is quiet moments, how to pray instead of just thinking, how to glorify him in everything, still. I am learning.

I'm almost there. I feel almost there. This is a life I wanted so badly that I can't even imagine how it could even be better. It's hard and sloppy, I have been pooped, peed, and vomited on, and it's great. It's honestly great. Because seeing her smile makes four am less lonely and all the sudden, it's the best time in the world.

Thank you. To those who know what Ellie means to my life, who know how filled I am with joy, thank you.

Love is Blooming

Maybe I'm just getting sassy in my old age. Or maybe it's all pregnancy hormones, whatever it is, I've decided some things. Some things that are worth sharing.

For the first time in my life, I'm on the other side of this being pregnant thing. Normally, I'm the one watching and waiting for friends or sisters in law or my mom or whoever. I get excited about babies. About ALL of it, the pregnancy, the labor, the newborn. I wish every women felt comfortable with sharing their birth stories, because I always have this burning curiosity to ask. I like knowing it all, how long it took for them to go into labor, how many weeks they are, all of it.

As the pregnant one now though, on the other end, I must humbly apologize for all the times I've annoyed a pregnant lady. Because you can be sure I've gotten annoyed a time or two myself. Here and there. About certain things. Little things.

The matter of the uterus a common topic, though we don't call it that. But if we're all honest and grown up and adult about this, that's where babies are formed and created. The uterus.  I don't like saying things about my daughter being in my tummy...makes me feel like I've eaten her and that's weird. She is where God intended her to be. The muscular organ that has grown SO very large.

Here's the deal though, my reproductive system, is the business of three people. Me, my husband, and my God. This includes but is not limited to how many children we have, how far apart they are, and when they come out of me.

I've decided that when I go into labor, I don't want people to know. I have certain expectations in my head. One of them is that I will be in labor for a while, like my Momma was. (She had LONG labors, that crazy woman) So informing EVERYONE once the contractions hit/the water breaks/however my body decides to do this, is for me, my team, and my husband.

I want to post a picture of a beautiful baby and invite friends to tell her Happy Birthday. Because that's what a birthday is people, celebrating the day that YOUR mother pushed/went under/whatever to get YOU out. (Think about THAT the next time you think your birthday is all about YOU)

My plan is for my team to know. And for my closest family to know. My older brothers and their wives, a few grandparents, but honestly, as much as I love all of you, you can wait. Just like I've had to for these past few months. Be patient. This birth is not about  you, and I'm not entitled to have to tell ANYONE when I go into labor. Plus, who knows when it will ACTUALLY happen, AND there is no way to tell how fast or slow a labor will go.

Don't worry, when she's born, I'm gonna wanna tell everyone. I'm gonna wanna show everyone. I have someone taking birth pictures for us, I promise you that you won't miss much (and don't think to much about birth pictures, there will be nothing too graphic). Every mother is proud of their baby. Every mother wants to show their baby off, I'm gonna want to, really really.

Now that that is said, here, look at some pictures my best friend/godmother of my child/Auntie Ameh took of me. I look like I'm gonna have a baby and what not...weird!

 

I know that most of you have seen these, because of the good old Facebook, but I still wanted to write about it. It meant a lot to me that she took the time to take these pictures for me (and hopefully, will take some of me and Blair together..?) especially since we went to the place that she had gotten engaged at the DAY BEFORE!!!

I love that I have someone willing to help me document this time. Especially since I never thought I would want to. Ameh is amazing, and she's doing such a wonderful service for us...and I won't be able to say enough how honored I am that she is part of her Lennie's life. She doesn't love in little ways, she loves with her whole heart, and that's...that's beautiful and something worth teaching my daughter.

This is a poem that she wrote, and it's beautiful. I want to frame this and put it above my daughters bed/her little corner in our room.

Love is blooming, right here, right now, right inside of me, and that is a precious gift that I am holding close.

Full

There are all these little things that are happening that just make me smile. Conversations that I've had, people who've stopped to see me, encouragement right at the right time.

I think about how my husband and I realized how incredibly selfish we are with and for one another. If we have spare time, we want to be where the other is. Three times Blair has come by the Library just to see/be near me. He showed up today and confused the heck out of me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I wanted to give you a kiss." He said. And then he did.

Our schedules have gotten much busier than we are used to. I work more now that I have been in MONTHS and I LOVE it. It just means that we don't get to spend our afternoons together the way we used to. It's all worth it though, because I love what I'm doing now. He sees this, knows it, and embraces it.

Today I saw a friend I haven't seen in a LONG time. She said "I love seeing how much you love Blair and Ellie." First of all, I love that she called them both by name, and second of all, I love that my actions speak that loudly. I want people to know who I love. I want people to know about my Faith and about these two people who mean so much to me. They are gifts, shouldn't we treasure our gifts? I've been thinking all day about that conversation. It kept me smiling.

Tonight my little brother took me to get frozen yogurt for cutting his hair. He looked at me and said "You're not the same Maddie as last year." All these things in just one day, my heart feels full.

We are officially in the third trimester. Ellie Girl feels huge, shoot, I feel huge. It freaks me out a little that she's not done growing and that I'm going to get even bigger. I can't imagine that it's true. I still get sick in the mornings, but I'm so tired of talking about throwing up, that I just ignore it when it happens. I've gotten to this divine acceptance that THIS is what pregnant looks like for me. I have two choices, complain, or accept it. While some days it's hard to accept, still, most days, I just take care of business and carry on. I like it better that way. Having two or three nose bleeds in a week tends to make me a little (read, a lot) fussy, but I'm really really trying to control that attitude. I know there are plenty of women who would love to have what I have sickness wise if it only meant that they were pregnant.

All the sudden I've got this voracious appetite. I want all the foods all the time, expect first thing in the morning. By ten though, man...it's like a food monster lives in me. At night, I feel like I get so hungry I could eat and eat and eat. I'm trying to remember all the things that are super good for us though. I may not have been able to eat well the first two trimesters, but hopefully I can now.

I've also been treated to a pedicure and a steak dinner in the last week. It amazes me the amount of wonderful people that surround us. I told Blair that we've got to start getting out more, if only because truly, people miss us. It goes back to that being selfish with one another. We're entirely too content laying next to eat other in bed reading or talking about books. However, I know that there might be a time when we really won't have all this time for one another, so be patient with us as we try to make the most of it now.

My heart feels full today. Almost like I was empty and needed some words of love without even knowing it. It's amazing to me how God works things together to fill us, even when we don't know we were running on empty.

Battling Irrationality

I am not to much of a coward to admit that I get scared.

I think that cowardly people are the ones that don't admit when they are scared. I think that by admitting you are scared you take power away from what it is that is making you scared, and you allow others into your mind where they can calm those fears.

I grew up around childbirth. I went to school and would come home to a baby. I looked through the Bradley Birthing Method book at a young age. When I was 19, I saw my best friend push out my God Daughter, since then, I've seen four other births. It's something that I've talked about, read about it, know about, am educated about.

However, I have never given birth myself. Not to a full term baby. So no, I don't know what contractions feel like, I don't know what it feels like to need to push, I don't know what it's like to get to a point in labor where you just think, "What the hell am I doing?" And yes, just like that. The sensations will be all new to me, something different that I've never experienced.

And I am not to much of a coward to not admit that the thought of giving birth at the end of June/maybe July, kinda scares me a little. I mean, ok, maybe I need to rephrase how I'm wording this. I just have an incredibly high respect for it, sometimes, though, that respect borders on irrational fears.

I am not scared of what my body can do. I am not scared of what God has created me to do. I am not scared of the pain, it is temporary, fleeting, and worth it to hold my daughter.

I am scared of what I don't know. I am scared of all the "what-ifs" and basically, the things that are out of my own control.

Here is how I am battling these fears: talking, listening, praying, trusting in those who know more than me. Trusting that my midwife has all the knowledge she needs to help me bring my daughter into this world. Trusting that my husband will be by my side, eager to help (where he can), knowing that he will encourage me. Talking about these fears with my Husband, asking him to listen to me, however much invalid or unlikely they are. Listening to those who have done this before, who tell me that it really truly is all worth, regardless of if your birth goes how you planned it or not. Praying that no matter what does happen, God is glorified through this experience, and that His ultimate goal for us is achieved. To bring into this world a life we've been blessed with.

In the past year I've been around and experienced a lot of those unknowns. Tragic things, hard things that cut you to the core. I've seen grieving mothers, grieved myself, and grown so much because of it. I have a very clear idea, in my head, how I want things to go to bring Ellie Girl into this world. Certain things I do know, like I just want to be home surrounded by my Husband, Mother, Best Friend, and a midwife who lets me labor, and is there as my just in case. I want to trust that my body can handle this. I know that I can do it, and I know in the throes of labor I'm going to try to convince my Mommy, my Husband, and my Best Friend, that I can't do it, that I won't do it, that I don't want to do it any more. I know in my heart, that each person in their own way will tell me that I can, that I will, and that I have to.

I'm finding out that the people who surround you before your labor and during it matter so much. That if I didn't have my Husband and Mother and Best Friend and amazing Midwife, I'm not sure I would be given leave to trust the way that I want to.

My crazy hormonal pregnant mind day dreams a lot about what could happen, what might happen. Each time I start to panic slightly about what I can't control, I remember something. God is in control. He's in control now, and He will be in control then. Regardless of what happens, or doesn't happen, He is still there. Why do we all seem to think in these moments of desperation that He just isn't there? I'm guilty of it. But I don't want to be.

I imagine myself in my bedroom at four in the morning, hanging onto my husband, crying because I can't, and I pray in those moments that I hear that still small voice who says "You know, you're right, you can't, I can, because I Am." THIS is what I want to remember to stop these irrational fears. THIS is what I want to remember while surrounded by the people I have gathered to be my birth team. THIS is what I want to remember IF we have to transfer. THIS is what I want to remember IF she is breech and the little sucker doesn't turn. THIS is what I want to remember IF nothing goes like how I want it go.

That I serve I Am, and in those moments, I'm surrounded by His Love. 

By the way, I love love LOVE this picture.

The Cost

Blair and I were reading not long ago that when you blog you should do so with some sort of purpose. I'll be honest, I'm not sure what my purpose is for writing except that I like to and it helps me organize my thoughts. I also live under the impression that if you can help someone else in ANY way, well, you should. Especially when you're a Christ Follower. When did we become so tight lipped? Why is it so hard to want to share our lives to help one another?

Granted, at the moment, I'm all about Baby Girl. I'll be honest, it's been a journey, and I like to chronicle it here for you people/maybe a little for myself. We as a couple and individually have learned a lot. It's important for me to share, because for once, I didn't let the bad outweigh the fact that God is still working in my life. I'm learning things about the character of God that I'm not sure I understood before.

This weeks post centers around one song, ONE. We went to visit the Fairy Godmother this weekend, because I have been feeling AWESOME and wanted to see her. She got to feel her Lennie (NO ONE ELSE IS ALLOWED TO CALL HER THAT, HER NAME IS ELLIE OR ELEANOR)(for the record) kick, made us dinner, we watched stupid movies, and she had no idea that we were coming. We also got to see the Fairy Godfather. The whole hour long drive there, we just got to be together. Just got to live. Just got to chill out man. There was much talking and much singing. This song has been in my head all week.

"Real Love is not afraid to bleed."

Soak that line in for a second. It stuck with me and I started to think allllll sorts of thunks. 

See, I love God, I do. I love Jesus, I love the Bible, I mean, if you can't tell that by now, then you might have missed something. I am learning how to live in my life in a quietly bold way. One where I am able to say my opinions without being a jerk. Christians, we can have our beliefs, it does NOT mean we have to be rude or mean about it. I believe that Jesus, being God, took the form of man, came down, died for me. 

Died for me. Bled for me. Think about this. The cost for Jesus to LOVE me the way He wanted to, was to bleed for me. This song says "I've counted up the cost, and you are worth it." What is the cost?  Me. The cost of following Jesus is that I pursue Him, love Him, seek Him, get to know Him. I'm not selfish enough to think that this world is all about me. I forget it sometimes, but in reality, I know that in the end I want people to know WHO I loved, instead of just that I did. 

As my belly grows bigger and bigger, I think about what this baby costs us. Not money wise, but time wise, and life wise, and physically. In just a few short months I will prepare to work in such a way that I have never worked before. I will get tired, I will want to quit, I will want to stop, it will hurt, it will take all the strength I have, but in reality? It's not about me. 

What you might say? You being in labor is not about you? Are you crazy?

No. Labor is about bringing new life into this world. Therefore labor is about my child, not about me. I hope that what I'm saying makes sense. Because all the sudden, I understand Jesus just a little more. He knew the pain that awaited him, I know the pain that comes from childbirth. He knew that he would bleed, there is a fair amount of what people call "birth grossness" when it comes to labor. He knew that the cost of what He was doing was worth it. I know that the cost of having my daughter with us is all this HARD work that I will have to do. 

But I've counted up the cost, Eleanor Amanda Ray is worth it. And it must be real love that I feel for her, because I'm not afraid to bleed, I'm not afraid to spend hours waiting and working for her, I'm not afraid of whatever pain might come, because at the end, I get her. 

As I thought about this, I thought about my Jesus in those hours before the cross. You know, Easter is coming, and while we celebrate the fact that um, you know, He ain't dead, let's go back and read what He did. Read those chapters in John. Out loud. Let yourself cry because of the pain and blood loss. Remember that He did it for you, just because it's real love, just because He loves you. Remember that all He wants is a better life for you, all He wants is your Heart, and man, once you've tasted that Love, it's hard to want anything more. 

Then call your Momma, if you can. Say thanks for bleeding for you, working for you, for bringing you here. Tell her thanks for thinking you were worth it. And if you can't thank her, or you don't speak to her, thank God. The fact that you are alive means that someone really truly loved you. No matter where you are now.  

This Comes Up A Lot...

We aren't even through one pregnancy and something keeps popping up, so I decided to just go ahead and set this to rest right now.

Here's what people seem to want to know: After getting so sick, will you and Blair have more kids?

Let's put this to rest right now: YES. 

We celebrated one year together yesterday on the 23, and it was hysterical. I got sick in the morning and he ended up in the bathroom with me putting a cool cloth on my head. THAT my friends, is what REAL love looks like. Everyone likes to ask Blair this question, and I get it a lot already too.

It's a fair question really, considering how sick I did get. It was really scary there for a few months. November and December and the beginning of January were not my favorite times. I can understand why people ask...though, I'm never sure why people are so interested in my or anyone else's uterus. Either people don't have enough and the uterus should be filled, or you have to many and should remain empty...everyone seems to have an opinion about it...no matter whose it is....but I digress...

After going through Hyperemesis, knowing there is a chance we (yes we, Blair and I go through this TOGETHER, it's not just me...) could we or do we want more babies?

Why in the world wouldn't we want more? We've both known we want the blessing of children, and after loosing our first, that thought solidified even more in our minds. Do I want to have babies back to back? No. Am I a little frightened on not living close to family who can help take care of us? Yes. Does this stop me trusting that God already knows what He's got in store for us? Heck no.

Even now our Ellie Girl is worth the wait, and worth the sickness. I look forward to seeing who she looks like, to be privileged enough to be her mother, to get to know her as a human, to talk to her about Jesus and how much she is loved by Him and by us. I look forward to poopy diapers, and nursing in the middle of night, I'm even excited for the first time I think "Oh crap, I can't do this" and I call my Mommy or best friends crying because she's crying and I don't know what to do. I look forward to tell people how big she is, what her name is, why she is named that, and I look forward to her being a big sister.

I understand that God has his plans, and if it's His plan that I only physically have her, that's enough, there are so many babies out there unloved who need families. We would be more than willing to have them, I know it. It makes me giggle a little that people think that because I got sick this time that I won't want more...silly people!

You know, the first time I tried sushi I didn't like it, but then I ate it some more and it was ok. I didn't like roller coasters at first and now I freaking love them. I had a bad experience once with friends who turned their backs, doesn't mean I love less now. There were a string of guys who hurt me deeply and badly, didn't stop me from finding and loving my husband.

This pregnancy has been hard and rough, but it will not stop me from loving our Daughter. And it will not stop me from Trusting that my Father in Heaven knows what He's doing, and if it means I get sick seven times with seven babies, then God help me through it. 

He doesn't just leave us when bad things happen. He equips us. He helps us. He sends us people. He has sent people to help me clean, to encourage me, and most importantly, He matched me up with a Man who when I puke, comes and sits with me in the bathroom. He has shown me great Love and great Mercy. And we got pregnant again, He would do it again. I would find out even MORE about this God who I love so so so much.

Being sick during a pregnancy doesn't stop God from being Holy. Of all things I've learned, through these past months, is that God is still God. It's not like He quits or something...

So yes, Blair and I, if the Lord allows, are still VERY willing to have more babies. Hyperemesis or no...:)

An Old Man, My Momma, and Pants.

Today was an interesting day. It didn't start off so well, but it ended up being pretty awesome.

I got sick yesterday and again this morning. I've been having a hard time convincing myself that bad days are just bad days, and that really, I will survive. I have a flair for the melodramatic so I get very "woe is me".

Yesterday, I made sure to get out of my bed. This is a big deal for me. When I feel that crummy, I don't want to move that much. I made it out to the mailbox, and when my Blair came home from work, I was on the couch not in our bed. I had a thought during the day "He would be so please, knowing I'm having a crummy day, if I was not in our bed." I was right. He was pleased. It was adorable.

This morning was one of those barely-make-it-to-the-bathroom type deals. So special. I'm laying bed thinking, Maybe today will be better, and my mouth fills with...well...it was very very special. I sat in our bathroom floor, cried for a second (throwing up usually makes that happen to me anyways) and then thought, How can today still be good? 

I'm tired of accepting defeat. I'm tired of having these days when I feel debilitated. So I got dressed. I picked up our bed room. I got a text from my Momma, asking me if I would like to go grocery shopping/baby carrier/stroller shopping with her. I went out on a limb and said yes, praising God the whole time that she was driving and I was not. When I drive on these days, I make it one  place and then head home, HG wears you out physically too people.

I folded a basket of clothes. Made the bed. Went out with my Mommy.

And it was ok. 

I got tired and had to sit sometimes. I had to be clear about how I felt and my limitations. I don't last long, and one or two things make me super tired. But there was some things that happened that made it so worth it.

For example, I met a man while I was resting who had been married 61 years. Told me that his wife was still the most beautiful and elegant lady that he'd ever seen. Told me where he was from, talked about Sight and Sound in Lancaster PA, and about his great-grandchild due in April. He explained that he hated shopping, but went with her because she liked it, and how hungry he was. He asked me how long I'd been married (a year this Sunday!!) and congratulated me on our Ellie Girl. We talked food, groceries, life, and the Bible. His wife called him over to help her get the groceries checked out, and on their way out, he shook my hand and said "God bless you, your husband, and your baby." His wife told me that if we didn't have a name picked out, that Rebekah was a great name (it was her name!). When I told them we did, and who and why she is named what she is named, they both big smiles, he said, "That's a beautiful tribute to what sounds like a great man and some great friends. That's a good name."

My mom checked out soon after, and told me she should have given me the keys to the car, but I'm so glad she didn't. That man made my day, and if he is the only reason I went out, then God knew what He was doing.

So often we see broken marriages, and hear the horror stories. This world can be harsh, cruel, subjecting us to some things that hurt our heart. Coming across a man, woman, human, that make our hearts burst with joy and love, that's something special.

I hope one day, when Blair and I are married for 61 years, Lord Willing, and out grocery shopping, he or I get the chance to sit next to a 22 week pregnant woman and encourage her like I felt today. A complete stranger...he has no idea how much that conversation stuck with me.

Most importantly today, I got to spend time with my Mommy. I covet this time with her. She knows that sometimes I can't do so much, and that I need breaks. She walked into my messy house and never said a word about it. Grace comes in all forms. I realize how special this time is, and how incredibly blessed I am to be near her. Granted, she knows and I know, we both have our own busy lives. We don't do EVERYTHING with one another, and she knows my time with Blair is very...special and we both covet the time we get to spend together. And I know she's still a Mommy to three younger siblings, those things are important.

As I am on the journey to holding my baby (I already am a mother...) I just think about what it was like for her, all those times she was pregnant, all those times she prepared her heart to bring into this world another beautiful Carrigan baby. When our Ellie Girl wriggles and moves (which feels like a lot right now!) I think, you know, once, my mom felt this way about me. The wonder and excitement never gets old, I pray that it doesn't even get old. Each movement, each flutter is a reminder that she truly is there, that she is ours for a while, that we are blessed.

She dropped me off this afternoon and I passed out for a while. :) I am not kidding when I tell you I get super tired. I'm feeling good, ok, and I'm excited, because this means I can go to work tomorrow, Lord Willing. Mornings in the past week or so, have become hard for me again. It's like November all over again. Each day is new though, and I've stopped trying to plan what will and won't happen. I can't do that. I don't know. I don't know if I will wake up tomorrow feeling awesome, or if I will want to crawl back into bed and pray that my stomach stops hurting, that I won't puke more.

God is Holy. And...the more I come back to Him, and focus on what He says instead of what I feel, I do better. It's hard. It's really hard sometimes. When I throw up, yet another time, it's hard to think He hears what I've been begging. But you know, at the beginning of this pregnancy all I ever did was pray and pray and pray that we would make it this far, I never even thought to ask Him to make the pregnancy easy.

So really, He's answered all my prayers, and I just keep praying that He would help me focus on Him. Because really, trust me, I'm a better human when I do. I really am. :)

On a different note, I finally bought myself a pair of maternity pants! I had to call my Blair to make it was ok, because it feels like a lot of money, but I do miss wearing jeans, and my regular ones really aren't very comfortable. But these suckers! Oh man! Why don't we wear pants like these all the time?! I'm not kidding...I'm gonna wear them after I'm pregnant, I know it. I really am. :) I also bought a size down from what I normally buy...one, because I couldn't find my "normal" size, and two, because these fit very well. It was....it's nice. It's not the WAY I wanted to lose weight (sometimes, I feel like I'm bulimic... to a point where I need to go the Dentist to make sure my teeth are ok..yipes!!!) but you know, it's kinda a blessing, and I will take those where I can get them.

A Beautiful Moment

I actually had this weird moment last night.

See I woke up, and started thinking. About too many things. Things that ya know, you would rather forget. As each day passes when my little girl grows, I can't help but think about who I hope she'll be. I can't help but think about mistakes I want to keep her from.

I'm laying there next to my husband, listening to him breath (makes me sound so creepy) and all these emotions run over me. And all these thoughts. The ones that creep up from Satan at three in morning to take us down, to hurt us. Thoughts like, you did to many bad things to deserve anything good, if he knew what really happened he wouldn't love you, did you really tell him all the truth? Those things that we push back and back and back, because to face them is to stand naked in front of a criticizing crowd.

I reached out and grabbed a hold of my husband, and I told myself some things that were true.

I'm not who I used to be.
He knows, he knows everything.
I've never kept anything from this man.
He married me, he loves me, he loves me, he loves me.

I called to mind our wedding, walking down the aisle in white, and feeling like for him, it wasn't a lie. Looking into his eyes while he said his vows, crying because I knew he meant it. Looking over his shoulder to see my little brother in tears, crying also, because of all people in my family, that kid knows. I called to mind when I started getting sick with Ellie, the concern on his face, the way he woke up with me to rub my back, the way he takes care of me.

This is real. This is what's real.

I breathed in, and let all those things from my past go. Hakunna Matata, right? I literally sang that song to myself at three in the morning to chase away the cob webs in my mind.  Slowly I released the grip I had on him and drifted off to sleep.

There are things that I have done that I won't be able to forget. I can't. I carry them deeply and close to my soul, because for a while there, I was Godless. But the amazing part of my story is that God...didn't give up....the amazing part of my story is that my husband....didn't give up.

And I can sleep at night, because who I am, who my daughter will know me to be, is someone so far from who I used to be. And that's beautiful.

Affirmation

Sometimes I think to myself, what in the world am I doing?

My wedding rings are lose. How crazy is that? This little girl is all over the place, let me tell you. All these things that I have to do and need to do to stay healthy. In true mom fashion, I care more about her than I do myself. Which is why sometimes I get so scared.

This week we saw our midwife, who is just fantastic. She's been working on these affirmation cards for Moms, to be used by Dad's, Doula's, or to be given as gifts to Momma's who are preparing for some special work. She gave them to me for free. It's funny how sometimes people know exactly what you need when you need it.

We got in the car and I started to read them. I'll be honest, I cried. I tried to read some out loud to my husband, and my throat got that scratchy, you're gonna cry soon noise.

New mercies each day, each moment, hold on to this truth with all your might. 

Take each thought captive, embrace the positive of the moment, cast away the negative. 

Count all your blessings, then count them again. 

Do not fear the unknown; it has no power over you or your situation right now.

Do not give into sadness and desperation for what you are going through today.

The best one?

You are not becoming a mother, you are a mother already. 

It is very easy to be negative. And it has been very easy to slip into a woe is me type of thing. I don't feel good most of the time. I cry a lot, a lot a lot, and no, it's not just my hormones. I cry over things I can't control, I cry because I've lost officially 28 pounds, I cry because some days moving from my bed to the couch is to much. I cry because my husband is stressed out and we have bills that we never expected. 

I cry for other reasons too. I cry because I have so much support. I cry because I have a church family who without judgement or condemnation said "Yeah, sure we can help with that!" I cry because my husband is the most loving beautiful person I will ever know and he has been so selfless and helpful during some of my darkness moments. I cry because I know he loves me, very very much and because if he could, he would take this from me. I cry because I know I can call my mother up, at any point, and she is so good for me, calms me down, reminds me that stress isn't good for our baby. I cry because my midwife knows how hard I'm trying to get proper nutrients and knows that when I can, I will, but right now, it's just hard. 

Such an outpouring of love, brings me to place where I sit there at the Fathers feet and I just cry more. I don't say much to Him, He knows my heart. He knows where I'm at, He knows this place. He cried with me when I'm at the toilet, again, He rejoices with me on the days when I can go to work, or when i get things done. Or on the days when I decide not to live in fear. 

I don't want people not think I'm not excited. The reality is we talk to Ellie every night, we tell her Good night. The truth is people sent her baby books and I sat on my bed and read to her. I have pintrest plans to decorate everything girly and pink and purple and all sorts of other cute things. I have burlap canvas that I have big plans for. I am so excited for Halloween, because even though she's gonna be little, it just means I get her candy! And she can be Cinderella and her actual God Mother can be her Fairy God Mother! I'm excited. I'm excited for my sister in law, who gets to come help someone else take care of THEIR baby (don't worry, she knows what I'm talking about!).

I can't wait to feel Eleanor move. I have a sinking suspicion I will just burst into tears. :) I did when I saw her at the ER. I did when we saw her heartbeat the first time, and when we first heard her heartbeat. 

Thing I'm most looking forward to? The first time Blair holds his daughter. THAT, that is the thing I can't WAIT to see. :)

February 14th.

I know I'm getting marred in a week, I know that Valentine's Day is cheesy and goofy and Love should be expressed every day of every week of every month of every year.

I also don't mind taking a little time out of the day to make my Beloved feel special, and he did the same.

I've never had a real valentine's day, not really. I never had a boyfriend in high school, and last year my poor man has strep throat. We had Burger King and watched Tangled. It was a good day, but I love Romance.

And today, I was romanced. And I won't lie to you, I feel precious and worth while and gorgeous, and adorable, and priceless.

That's all I got tonight, here, have some pictures of what He did for me. :)

He made me dinner, and ate in our living room.

I love the Daisy's he bought me.

There were candles all over the place.

The sun set and dinner was hot and it was wonderful

HE MADE S'MORE BROWNIES FOR ME!

30 Days!

It is exactly 30 days until my wedding. And I am so stupidly excited that I can't even begin to tell you how happy my heart is...but...I'm starting to feel the sting of separation. I've been reading the Bible (well, ok that's weird to say, because I always do...but...lately this has been on my heart...) and I've started to read the Proverbs. This book of the Bible has so much to say about Wisdom, how to use it, where to use it, who to gain wisdom from. Much of it goes back to parents.

When I read the above passage all I could think was that the garlands for my head and the pendants for my neck must be heavy and beautiful, because my parents tried to give me so much wisdom and advice and sound judgment that this must be true for me.

As I try to transition from daughter to wife, I find myself having trouble sometimes. I don't always like people, I get jealous (especially of my Beloved's time) and I am still ruled by emotions at least once a month. But I do try to remember all the things that my mother and father have taught me. Because they are the best people I think I will ever know, and they have given me so much information. And you know? Even though I'll be down the road, I'm gonna miss them a whole bunch.

I keep studying the Word though, to see what info it can give me, to take into my heart all the wisdom that the Lord could have to offer me. Because as we all know, those who walk with the wise becomes wise. :)

Also, this is just a side note, but I love coffee, and I think that whenever you open your bible, you should have coffee. No morning is complete without it.

Other side not, I really am getting married in 30 days! 30 DAYS! :) To THIS guy,

Isn't he handsome? ;)

A Quick Love Note

Sometimes, Blair doesn't feel like putting things up in our house.

And sometimes, I'm sick, and can't do it myself/me and power tools is NOT a wise idea. 

But Blair loves me so much, that even when he doesn't want to do things for me, he still does. 

So then, I get things like beautiful lights put up in my guest bedroom. 

He really loves me.

And shh, don't tell him, but I really love him too!