Waiting For Morning

HWY 101

2012-01-09T14:08:00.000-08:00

Things are finally slowing down a bit after the hustle and bustle of the holidays. I enjoy the holidays very much but I also love to get back to normal when they are over.

The New Year brings with it the second semester of kindergarten homeschooling, resolutions of all kinds (I LOVE making New Year resolutions...keeping them is the challenge), and a lot of unknowns. My husband should be getting orders soon and when he does we will know if we are moving and where and when. We really have no idea where we might end up. Also Teamotions is about to celebrate its first full year in business which means we've managed to survive this economy! And my 7-year anniversary is around the corner and my oldest son turned six on Jan 7th. Where does the time go?

We spent Christmas in Texas this year (and I got to meet one of my blog friends in person-more on lunch with Fran later) so we didn't visit my parents until just before the new year. I love going home as my childhood house is filled with an entire lifetime of memories. When I drive the streets or eat at my favorite restaurants of my home town I am reminded of a thousand more different memories all strung together to make my life.

There is this strip of HWY 101 between Ventura Avenue and Johnson Drive that I must have driven thousands of times in my lifetime. When I was young I would stare out the car window and look over the ocean. On clear days I could see the channel islands. On rainy days the waves got really big. On most days it was simply beautiful and I enjoyed seeing the water.

I never really noticed when I was younger that it also passes a cemetery. You can see the front gates from the highway and all the headstones behind the walls as the highway increases in elevation. It never meant much to me when I was young.

But it means much more to me now.

My girls are buried in that cemetery. Their headstone is right inside the front gate. I can see it when I drive past.

Never in a million years did I ever for one second think that someday I'd have my own babies buried there. I never thought I'd drive on my favorite section of the 101 and wince with sad memories of tiny little faces I never got to know. Now the cemetery I never really noticed before gets my full attention each time I pass.

I've never really enjoy visiting the cemetery. I go on their birthday and the anniversaries of their deaths and at holidays. This year I read them a book for their late Christmas present. But every time I go I just cry and cry. I don't feel comforted there, I just feel sad and overwhelmed with the reality of losing them. I wish I could sleep next to their headstone and cry all night. When I leave I always feel exhausted and drained.

I prefer to think of them in heaven, not in the cemetery.

Over the Christmas holiday I read the book Heaven is For Real. It was SO wonderful. The story is sweet, encouraging, but mostly comforting. I highly recommend it, especially to those of you who lost children too. I don't want to ruin the story for any of you so all I will say is read it for yourself. You'll be so glad you did, I promise.

My favorite strip of highway is now bittersweet. It holds my best memories and my worst. No matter how sunny the day is or how sparkly the ocean, when I can see the channel island and when I can't, if I stop to drink my tea at the point or just keep driving I will always peak over the wall to see their headstone, fights the tears, and long for the day I get to see them again.

Sometimes heaven cannot come soon enough.

The Strange Good

2011-12-15T20:56:00.000-08:00

This is a post I wrote but never posted back in August.

My heart is heavy tonight.

I put on my most comfortable socks and I climbed in bed with A LOT on my mind and even more on my heart.

Last week a family on base (Camp Pendleton) lost their 13 year old daughter in a house fire. The tragedy has really rattled the entire community. Today I had a chance to sit with the grieving mother over a cup of tea. I didn't do or say much. Mostly I just listened.

And cried.

I saw so much of my own grief and pain in her. Her words made so much sense to me as she described the thousands of feelings that seemed to ebb and flow in her heart and mind. I remembered feeling just like she does- hurt, confused, exhausted, checked out, scared, angry, and sad. And my heart hurt for her.

And it hurt for my girls too. And for every mother anywhere who ever lost a child at any age under any circumstances. I just don't get it. And it breaks my heart.

I wanted so badly to take her pain away. I wanted to rewind time and change what happened. I wanted to say something profound or offer a special gem of wisdom that would make it all ok. And I didn't like the feeling of helplessness that lingered in my chest as I sat, frozen, listening, hurting, and understanding.

My own heart is still so tender even after three years. And it wrecks me to see that same pain in someone else because I know how horrible it truly is.

I drove home talking to God the entire way. I will admit I did not give Him much opportunity to speak as I did all of the talking, but I did ask some very important questions:

1) HOW MUCH LONGER? A lifetime seems so long God when my children are missing. Please sustain my broken heart until that day finally comes.

2) WHY ME, WHY ANYONE? Although I was honored to share my tea and the ministry of comfort it represents, I couldn't help but feel gypped a bit. It does not feel like a fair trade to me. And I still hurt about that. All the good that has come through the short and valuable life of my Aubrey and Ellie does not add up to the good of them.

It ended here. I guess I never posted it because I never finished it. Yet the final thought is the thought that has been heavy on my heart of late: All the good does not, and will not ever, add up to the good of them. At least that is the way I feel about it.

Recently a wonderful opportunity came my way. My company Teamotions has been given a special opportunity to extend comfort and healing through tea to our troops. Working along side The Wounded Warrior Semper Fi Fund, we created three new teas to support the emotional well-being of our troops and their families. As the wife of a Marine myself, I have a heart for our troops and their families as I have experienced many of these emotional challenges first hand. Long periods of separation, the demands of military life, and the realities of war take an emotional toll. These three new teas will help ease the emotional burden on our troops and their families and help comfort them as they serve our country and protect our freedom. A portion of the profits from the tea sales will support the Wounded Warrior Semper Fi Fund to help provide injured service members with the medical care and technology they need to recover from injuries sustained in combat.

We are so honored to be able to support such a worthy cause and work along side an organization doing so much good. It is a privilege to reach out to our military with tea to offer them much needed comfort and emotional support. Sometimes I am amazed at the opportunities that have come our way and the lives being touched through Teamotions. It is all so very good.

But when I sit alone and think about all this so very good stuff it still stings a little. It is SO good, but it isn't as good as them. It is my privilege to carry a torch for my little girls who came and went too soon and I have found so much healing in building a meaningful legacy for them through Teamotions. Yet, all this good has come at quite a cost to me and I can't lie and say that if I was ever given the opportunity I wouldn't trade it all for them in a heartbeat.

Despite the hurt in my heart I do feel amazingly grateful though. I see God working and moving and healing and touching lives, all because Aubrey and Ellie lived and died. I see the miracle in that. I honestly don't know what else to call it. It is truly a miracle.

Speaking of miracles...Teamotions is hoping for one! We are currently seeking to raise funds for the creation of the three labels for these new tea blends to support the emotional well-being of our troops and their families. You can donate to our campaign or learn more about it on Kickstarter.com. Please tell all your friends and family about it as the more people who know the more likely funding will be met. We are also pre-selling the first of the three tea blends. It is called Courage and it is a caffeine free Plum Spice Rooibos blend with Eleuthero Root to help prevent emotional, mental, and physical burnout during prolonged periods of stress. Pre-orders can be made on our website and each order helps get our tea to our troops and their families as quickly as possible!

I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season and are able to find comfort in the hope we have in Jesus and the celebration of His birth this Christmas. Without His birth there could not have been His death and resurrection of which made possible the most good that could ever be. He paid the ultimate cost for what is the ultimate good, and He did it for us. For that I am eternally grateful.

Revisible

2011-10-27T19:53:00.001-07:00

Driving in the car to school one morning last week my son Dustin asked me if I know what God looks like. I explained to him that we can see God in His creation and see God working in our life, but that we can't actually see Him, at least not until heaven.

"Cool," he said, "God's here, we just can't see him. He's invisible!"

I had to smile as my five-year-old managed to simplify something that always seemed so complex to me.

Then he asked, "What about Jesus? Do you know what he looked like?" So I explained that Jesus became a baby that grew to be a man so he looked human like us, probably darker skin and hair and brown eyes...but Jesus lived before me so I never actually saw him face to face, but when we get to heaven...

Dustin cut me off.

"Don't tell me mom. I know what you are going to say. When we get to heaven Jesus will be revisible."

Revisible?

"Yes. You are exactly right, " I said, "Exactly right."

I dropped Dustin at school and returned home to put my little Colton down for a nap, but I couldn't get the word revisible out of my mind.

There are some invisible things in our lives. Faith is based on those invisible things. Faith is believing in what we have not seen. And yet so much is visible. God's provision, miracles, blessings, creation, God's Word, His grace and mercy...it is all right there in front of my face.

But even more amazing than the seen or unseen is this third category I have never really given much thought to until now are the things we did see once but can't see right now but will see again- THE REVISIBLE THINGS.

Jesus was visible. Not just his character or his glory, but him, in flesh and blood, was seen, heard and felt. Aubrey and Ellie were visible. I saw them with my own eyes just as Mary saw Jesus sleeping in the manger. Tiny, squirmy, and helpless.

And it is only a matter of time until the once seen will be re-seen. They-Jesus and my girls-will become revisible.

What else will be made revisible I wonder? And will I see it before heaven?

I have mentioned before in previous posts that I am undergoing a transformation of sorts. And I'm looking hard for what has disappeared to reappear. I want to find the things that have been lost. I want to uncover the things burried under the sands of chaos and compromise. I want to see clearly what has been muddled and marred.

Someday my girls will be revisible to me. The picture I have of them in my mind will be replaced with the perfection they are in heaven. And Jesus himself will meet me there as well and I know I will instantly recognize him even though I have technically never seen him with my own eyes.

In the meantime I have quite the journey ahead of me. I look forward to what I get to see...again.

Forever Reign

2011-09-12T15:18:00.000-07:00

We attended a new church this Sunday. Our current church is amazing in many ways and it isn't like we have a problem with it...it is just that pretty much since we started attending there something has been missing for me. I thought that maybe it was just the season of life I was in. I have very young children and live 35 minutes away from it so serving and getting involved was almost impossible. I have done my best, but even after 5 years I have yet to find my place there. We have talked about finding a new church from time to time, but never quite pulled the trigger on it. We thought maybe we just needed to try harder and give it more time.

When Aubrey and Ellie died I longed for a sense of community like never before and even though loving hearts from church showed up on our doorstep with food and prayers, I still felt nameless and faceless on Sunday morning. And with so much going on in my heart these days I asked my husband if we could try out a church closer to home.

So this Sunday we did!

It sounds strange to "try out" a church. But it is the reality. Not everyone fits everywhere. Finding a church to belong to is much different than finding a church to attend. I am realizing that I NEED a church community. It isn't juts something I like or want. It is a core need rooted deep in my being. In many ways I am lost without one.

I desire to contribute to what God is doing. I desire to be a part of something much bigger than myself. I desire to serve. But even more so, I desire to know others and be known. I don't do nameless and faceless very well. I desire relationships and community and all the stuff that takes people from scientific homo-sapiens to living unique souls.

For me church is all about relationships. Forming them, growing them, growing in them. Christ is the most important relationship of all, but we need each other too. And the Word makes it clear that fellowship is essential to our walk with Christ. Not just for accountability either, but because we are relational beings. We need each other. We need the body of Christ!

I know I do.

So anyway, off we went to a new church. AND I LOVED IT.

For starters the people were friendly and down to earth. They made us feel welcome and comfortable. Honestly I have never been to a more friendly church. It is a big church so we needed some help finding the nursery and Kindergarten class and some nice man just took it upon himself to show us the way literally walking us to each building himself. Then after the service one of the pastors heard we were new and had young children and invited us to a young married/young families type small group. I was thrilled. Just to be sought out made me feel like a little sheep being gathered back into the fold. I felt instant acceptance. And it felt good.

Yet, that was not the highlight of the day! It gets even better.

I think God knew we were coming and met me there. Actually, I know God knew, and He prepared something special just for me. It was seriously for my heart. A gift. A boost. A reminder of some things I have forgotten.

During worship we sung a song I had never heard before. It was the perfect song at the perfect time. Almost instantly I was in tears. I was so busy crying during the song that I didn't get the name of it and my husband had to email the worship pastor to get the title. But the worship pastor emailed back and now that I know what song it was so I HAVE TO share it with you.

Before I post the lyrics and a link to the song I have to warn you-this one is a crier! Tears and snot-the whole nine yards. I was a basket case. I have not cried like that since my daughters died. Truly, the lyrics spoke straight to my heart and I broke. It was painful and transforming all at the same time.

If my heart had a song this would be it.

Forever Reign by Hillsong

You are good, You are good
When there's nothing good in me
You are love, You are love
On display for all to see
You are light, You are light
When the darkness closes in
You are hope, You are hope
You have covered all my sin

You are peace, You are peace
When my fear is crippling
You are true, You are true
Even in my wandering
You are joy, You are joy
You're the reason that I sing
You are life, You are life,
In You death has lost it's sting

Oh, I'm running to your arms,
I'm running to your arms
The riches of your love
Will always be enough
Nothing compares to Your embrace
Light of the world forever reign

You are more, You are more
Than my words will ever say
You are Lord, You are Lord
All creation will proclaim
You are here, You are here
In your presence I'm made whole
You are God, You are God
Of all else I'm letting go

Oh, I'm running to your arms
I'm running to your arms
The riches of your love
Will always be enough
Nothing compares to Your embrace
Light of the world forever reign

My heart will sing
no other name
Jesus, Jesus

Oh, I'm running to your arms
I'm running to your arms
The riches of your love
Will always be enough
Nothing compares to Your embrace
Light of the world forever reign

Here is a link to hear the song if you want to hear it.

I hope it touches your heart like it did mine. I don't know yet if this church is for us every Sunday, but I do know it was for me last Sunday. Exactly, especially, perfectly for me.

Come Near

2011-09-07T21:27:00.000-07:00

I have been wanting to post for a while now (I apologize-a month without so much as a hello is a long time), but every time I jumped over here to write I either couldn't get the words right or was interrupted (my Colton is walking now-let the fun begin!)

The last few weeks have been tough for many reasons, some I can talk about and some I cannot. Not everything is appropriate to share here. However, I would like to ask for prayer. God knows what I need so just lift me up. I cannot express how thankful I am in advance for you- all of you. You have been such faithful friends in Christ.

A few weeks ago a Marine family living in base housing on Camp Pendelton lost their home, every possession they had, and their 13 year old daughter, in a house fire. Words cannot explain the devastation this family is experiencing. The entire community has been traumatized. I spent almost three hours one afternoon last week (just listening mostly) to a grief-stricken and heart-broken mom. I took some tea to her, but mostly I just wanted her to know that she is not alone.

I felt so alone when girls died.

Being with her, although a privilege as I have never even met this woman before and she trusted me enough to let me into her life even if for an afternoon, during the most painful time she has ever experienced, stirred up so much of my own grief- grief I thought I had dealt with but discovered was just lying dormant in the hidden places of my heart. I saw so much of my pain in her. The things she said, how she said them, even some of the questions she asked, sounded like me talking three years ago.

I recognized her brokenness and it hurt my heart.

I drove home after meeting with her so heavy hearted. I cried in the car, not only for her, but for myself and every other mother who has lost a child. I was surprised at how quickly my compassion turned to raw pain. I think there are some feelings that can never be forgotten and the moment it hit me that my babies were gone is one of them. I wish that feeling on no one.

Since that afternoon I have poured myself back into trying to find the magic cure for pain. There has to be something God, something to say or do, something to make it easier, something to help... There isn't one just so you know. No pill or potion. Not even time.

Only Jesus.

And He holds us and heals us in ways that we can't always see or feel. Sometimes He just sits with us and lets us find rest in Him. He tends to us perfectly, just as we need individually, doing a complete work, not rushing to just end the pain, but working carefully and with love to supernaturally heal our ruined hearts for our good and His glory.

We don't always feel it. We often don't understand it. But we do have to choose it.

I had to ask God to come near to me again as I drove home that day. To show himself to me close enough to touch. To talk to me by whispering in my ear. To hold me even when I feel unworthy and to call my name when I am too weary to lift my eyes to heaven.

I want my tears to fall right on to God's lap. I want to be that close. It has been a while since I have been that close.

I will leave you with a quote from Max Lucado that fits perfectly here from his book God Came Near.

"Has it been a while since you have seen Him? If your prayers seem stale, it probably has. If your faith seems to be trembling, perhaps your vision of him has blurred. If you can't find power to face your problems, perhaps it is time to face Him."

I know its time for me.

Take Back

2011-08-09T21:42:00.001-07:00

Ok, I know I posted a few days ago that I was taking a break, that I needed to put posting aside for a while. But then it magically disappeared leaving all of you, no doubt, confused.

I even confused myself.

Let me explain...

I am in the process of a complete life restructuring. The first place I am starting is inside my own heart and out from there. It is going to take my full attention so at first I thought that blogging was going to have to be set aside for a while. But after I thought about it a bit I realized that my blog is my heart. My heart for my girls. My heart for God. My heart for other grieving moms and hurting souls.

My blog is a part of me. A good part of me. I just couldn't bare to set it aside.

However, I am not going to be able to post as often. Maybe twice a month. But when I do post I plan to make it count so I hope you'll continue to read it.

So, sorry for the take back. Next time I'll think a bit longer before I speak, um, post.

Lofty Goal

2011-07-25T09:53:00.000-07:00

I mentioned in a post a few weeks ago that I am into lofty goals.

It is true. I am.

I like to set goals for myself that just might be over my head. I like to attempt things that I might not be able to do. I don't like to fail. I actually hate to fail. But success only feels good when the risk of failure is real.

Maybe it is the risk that thrills the most? I think for me it just might be. Not the kind of risk that might involve death or permanent injury, but the kind that makes you face real doubt, real fear, and real challenge-and overcome!

I also love tangible measurable accomplishments. I love to earn things that cannot be taken away. And I love the process as much as the end result.

So, I have set another lofty goal for myself. It is actually the continuation of a previous lofty goal that I didn't succeed at...yet.

TOUGH MUDDER TAKE TWO.

When: Feb 23rd, 2012
Where: Vail Lake, Temecula, CA
Why: Because I have to finish what I started.

Yes, I am going back for more. Willingly at that. I decided that I HAVE to slay this beast or it will nag at me for the rest of my life.

Of course I am nervous. Don't forget I have tried once before and didn't make it. Talk about facing doubt and fear! But I refuse to be intimidated. I am not looking forward to the cold (as that seems to be my Achilles heal) but I am going to train harder, wear more clothes, and fuel better. Simply put, I will be tougher this time around.

So, anyone out there want to join my team? Let me know, we can do this together. Also, follow along on my other blog The Perseverance Project and I will keep you posted with my progress. I'll post my workouts and training tips and anything else I think is important.

I look forward to earning my orange headband.

Broken Vases

2011-07-18T21:30:00.000-07:00

Sometimes it is amazing how a handful of seemingly unrelated things all come together and profoundly impact my life. What appears at first as chaos and happenstance...as disappointment and disarray...or sometimes even an accident...is actually encouragement in the purest form.

I met an amazing woman recently. I have not met her personally, but I have met her heart and her wisdom via email more than once now. Her name is Karen and she is Joel's mom (read her story at www.rainbowsearthquakes.blogspot.com). Joel passed away just this year and despite her grief and pain she has managed to encourage me in a powerful way. I have cried many tears in awe of how someone with such a recent loss could encourage someone else like me. Shouldn't it be the other way around? Quite frankly, her words have changed my life and I am thankful for them, however they came to me.

Recently I had some issues with some vases. My sister bought a beautiful vase for me as a gift for the anniversary of Ellie's death. And it was beautiful. And touchingly thoughtful. I fell in love with it instantly. But not a few hours after she gave it to me it was accidentally broken. My sister did her best to glue it together, but in the end it fell apart despite her best efforts. So, bless her heart, she bought me two more. One to replace Ellie's and the other for Aubrey. However, only one survived. Despite how careful she tried to be, one broke. When I unwrapped the tissue paper there it sat, in two pieces.

I did my best to stay calm, but what I really wanted to do what throw that vase across the room. I felt as though everything in my life was in pieces.

I was feeling discouraged to say the least. And then Karen sent me this message...

"All I can say is that I very much felt that I was sent by God to give you some word of encouragement. Encouragement is such an interesting word, isn't it? Not "make it better." Not "cure your sadness." Blow on the embers of your courage, until the fire is bright. Because that is what we can do for each other. Give each other the courage to keep burning. And maybe I am a broken vase? Maybe God has been sending you broken vases all along. This is what I felt when I read about your heartbreaking broken vases. God was sending me to send His love. But if you open the package, you might only see a broken vase. Because now there are broken places in me. I am a broken vase, but sent with love. Maybe you have a ministry to broken vases? I don't know... just what I thought when I read about that discouraging twice broken vase..."

Oh I can't even describe how her words shone like light on the blind spots of my perspective.

We are all broken vases. We start out so perfect and lovely, full of promise, yet we are all so fragile. It is only a matter of time until we get broken. Life and circumstances trample us into bits and pieces. Now just parts we wonder how will we ever be whole again?

But what we don't always see, at least not right away, is that we can't really be used until we are broken. The pieces allow us to be remolded, they allow our shape to change, so that we can be used for something greater than what we ever thought we were intended for. The breaking process hurts no doubt. And the cracks are like scars, they never go away.

But purpose is never without problems.

Perfect vases are beautiful, sure.

But broken vases are purposeful.

I kept the broken vase. I see it differently today than I did when it got broken. I see myself in it now and I see the message that came with it. It reminds me of the bigger picture I often forget. Sometimes the pain is so overwhelming I can't feel the pieces being glued back together. I get so consumed with the brokenness I don't even realize I've been made whole again.

And I now love that vase. It means more to me broken than it ever did whole.

Funeral Anniversary

2011-07-11T19:51:00.000-07:00

Three years ago today was the funeral.

I never imagined in my wildest dreams that I would ever attend a funeral for my own child.

Three years later I can still smell the mist from the ocean and feel the breeze on my skin. I remember feeling confused. The casket just seemed too small to fit both my girls. It was like I forgot just how tiny they were.

I just sort of phased out that day. I held their memory book and told the same story over and over to anyone who would listen. I stood at their grave side knowing that life as I knew it was over. I didn't want to leave but I knew I couldn't stay.

Somehow life has gone forward. And I did leave. Just like I left the hospital the day they each died. I was good at making myself leave, but only in body. My heart stayed for quite a while, first lingering in the halls of the NICU and eventually to the edge of their little plot. All this time my heart has been just waiting for them, missing them. It honestly wasn't until my most recent visit to the cemetery that I realized I had left my heart there for all this time.

I don't know how to move forward without them. At least not as a whole person. That is my new goal this year though; to recollect all the pieces of myself and learn how to be whole again.

As whole as I can be all things considered. It is a lofty goal. But you know me, I'm into lofty goals.

The Visit

2011-07-09T12:48:00.000-07:00

We went to the cemetery Thursday as a family to remember our girls. It was a beautiful day and it felt surreal to watch my two boys play on the grass around the headstone of their twin sisters. It felt like a day at the park almost or a picnic, something other than visiting the children that we lost and miss so much.

Part of me felt suspended in a dream or movie trying to wrap my brain around a family visit to a cemetery. It was something I never imagined or ever wanted, yet there we were. I had tears and smiles though. For a minute it felt like we were all together.

This is my life. As much as I try to distance myself from the heaviness of it, it is my life. I am that mom and we are that family. I am doing my best to accept it, trust God in it, and move forward. I often feel I keep one foot in it as I get some sort of comfort from dwelling in it. But it weighs me down. I'd like to shed this burden as I'm beyond exhausted. I'd like to feel free again to simply live on. I don't want to be defined by this anymore. Shaped by it certainly, but not defined.

These are the things there is no manual for. No map. No guide. I will find my way out. It has been a lot of trial and error so far and I predict it will continue to be. I will find a way to use this to make me stronger. I will discover the good that is hiding in it and not measure it to what I lost. It simply can't compare.

I only pray that I don't waste such heartache but make it count for the good of others and trust that my pain will end...eventually.

Goodbye Aubrey

2011-07-07T09:37:00.000-07:00

Three years ago today I had to let my Aubrey go.

Six days after we said goodbye to her sister we had to say goodbye to her. I had two worst days of my life in the same week. It changed me.

My little Aubrey was such a fighter. I remember how she liked to keep her hands above her head when she slept and how she would kick and pull at her tubes. My favorite memory of her though is how she opened her eyes a few days before she died. She had these beautiful smokey gray eyes and when I talked to her she would look straight at me. I remember how she closed her eyes for the last time while we whispered in her ear how much we love her and how much we will miss her. And then she was gone.

Today we will visit the grave site of my sweet girls to honor their memories and just check on things. I don't particularly enjoy visiting the cemetery as I know that they are not there, but I do like to check on things there just to make sure they are being respected and honored even after death. They are my babies after all and I feel compelled to look after them.

I miss you sweet baby. I miss you so much. Mommy loves you.

The Meantime

2011-07-06T21:11:00.000-07:00

The meantime is a concept I have wrestled with since the moment my girls were born. In the days they were with us they were very sick and things were so touch and go I practically held my breath for 13 days straight. We were always waiting for something to happen. We waited for test results, scans, assessments from experts, and any sign of change, good or bad. We just stood next to their incubators WAITING.

I hated the waiting. Not because I am impatient but because I wanted to DO something. It made me crazy just standing around waiting. No one could tell me what to do in the meantime.

When my girls died it felt like my whole life turned into the meantime...and I am still (three years later) figuring out what to do in the meantime.

Things have not been easy lately, and by things I mean life. I feel very lost. My faith has taken some hits and I am struggling to make sense of them. I would have once thought myself too grounded to ever experience a crisis of faith, but I am telling you folks, I am having one. I feel attacked from all sides and I am not sure how much longer I can last.

I picked up one of John Eldredge's books (I found it just sitting in a pile of books in my dad's office) called Waking the Dead. The title jumped out at me because in many ways I feel dead inside and I'd like to be awoken to life again. I randomly opened it and began reading from somewhere in the middle and found the following passage. It is the perfect description of how I feel.

"...dazed and confused...we have no idea who we really are, why we're here, what's happened to us or why. Has God abandoned us? Did we not pray enough? Is this just something we accept as "part of life," suck it up, even though it breaks our hearts? After a while, the accumulation of event after event that we do not like and do not understand erodes our confidence that we are part of something grand and good, and reduces us to a survivalist mind-set. I know, I know...we've been told that we matter to God. And part of us partly believes it. But life has a way of chipping away at that conviction, undermining our settled belief that he means us well. I mean, if that's true, then why didn't he ______? Fill in the blank. Heal your mom. Save your marriage. Get you married. Help out more. Either (a) we're blowing it, or (b) God is holding out on us. Or some combination of both, which is where most people land. Think about it. Isn't this where you land, with all the things that haven't gone the way you'd hoped and wanted? Isn't it some version of "I'm blowing it" in that it's your fault, you could have done better, you could have been braver or wiser or more beautiful or something? Or "God is holding out on me," in that you know he could come through, but he hasn't come through. And what are you to make of that? What is really going on here? Good grief--life is brutal. Day after day it hammers us, till we lose sight of what God intends toward us, and we haven't the foggiest idea why the things that are happening to us are happening to us. The days of our lives have have a way of casting a rather long shadow over our hearts when it comes to God's intentions toward us in particular."

This is SO me right now. A very long shadow has been cast over my heart as I wrestle with this strange meantime. What do I do with the time between now and...when it all finally makes sense to me. Will that time come in this life or only in the next? Will it ever come? Will I ever be able to trust God's intentions for me or am I too jaded to even want to? How do I ever awaken my heart again to an abundant life after my daughters' deaths? How can I ever feel fully alive when parts of my heart died when my girls died? I can't seem to get past these questions.

And it seem that with each day my frustration only increases. My sister bought these beautiful little vases for my girls to honor their memories this week and gave them to me with flowers inside. I set one of the vases on a little table she has in her living room and unfortunately (and totally by accident) it got broken. It was my fault for leaving it where it could be so easily bumped by young children but I still felt terrible. I looked at the little broken vase and saw my own heart--in pieces. My sister could tell I was upset and she graciously bought another one and gave it to me today. When I unwrapped it, IT WAS BROKEN! I can't explain how I felt. I thought seriously God, can I just have one thing that isn't in pieces?

I gave it back to my sister and told her to return it as they shouldn't break that easily. I offered to buy another one in case the store would not exchange it. I didn't want my sister to know how much it bothered me since it wasn't her fault at all. But inside I wanted to throw the little vase across the room and be done with it. It made me so angry.

I am not sure how to navigate this valley I am in. I hesitate to ask God because I feel resentful. It will make me very angry if God answers these prayers but not my prayers to save my babies. This prayer seems so unimportant in comparison to that one. I am not sure what to make of it.

I don't have much more to say. I feel like I am not keeping a very clear train of thought. I am going to finish that book though and see if it might not be able to shed some light on these very real struggles I am having.

Hopefully it will be a good way to fill a little bit of the meantime.

Goodbye Ellie

2011-07-01T08:30:00.000-07:00

Three years ago today Ellie left us for Heaven.

I remember it like it was yesterday. I can see the room we were in and the nice young doctor who waited patiently outside the door with his stethoscope to tell us when she was gone. He spoke so quietly and I could see he was sad for us. I remember studying her little face so that I wouldn't forget her and I kept her wrapped up so she wouldn't get cold. She just laid there in our hands, perfectly quiet and still, and so very tiny. And when the end came it was like the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. I felt frozen, unable to even breathe, as I realized she was gone forever. I held her a bit longer anyway as I could not bare the idea of handing her over to strangers. When I finally let her go I asked to please keep her warm and don't hurt her and I walked away.

I felt something in me die when she did. I am still fighting to awaken that part of me again. But I feel that as long as I am without her it won't-can't-happen. Without her something very important will always be missing inside me.

I long for the day when I see you again sweet girl. I miss you so.

Happy Birthday Sweet Girls

2011-06-24T16:56:00.000-07:00

Today is Aubrey and Ellie's birthday. Three years ago they were born. I can't wrap my brain around it actually. Sometimes it feels like it was just yesterday and sometimes it seems almost like it never happened.

It is a little confusing to trying to figure out how to celebrate their birthday. I pondered making cupcakes for them or lighting a candle, but for some reason I decided to keep the celebration in my heart this year.

I have spent the day remembering things; their little faces, how they smelled, their skinny little chicken legs. Sometimes I worry that I am forgetting details. Time has made some of the memories fuzzy. But most memories are as vivid as the moment they occurred. I know those memories will never leave me, not as long as I live.

This morning I put on the necklace my sister Rebecca gave me with their initials on it and I find myself rubbing the little charms between my thumb and first finger for comfort. My mind seems to be only on them today.

I called my dad to make sure that some flowers were put on their headstone since I am not close enough to do it myself. Of course, my dad was one step ahead of me. He sent me a picture of their birthday bouquet and looking at it made me both happy and very sad at the same time. I have yet to get used to seeing my girls' names in stone.

I don't know what else to say. I miss my girls and I miss the life we would have had together. Today especially.

Happy Birthday my sweet darlings. Mommy loves you.

Mud Run at Camp Pendleton

2011-06-23T13:36:00.000-07:00

So, me and my gals ran in the annual Mud Run at Camp Pendleton on Saturday. It was a 10K with obstacles and yes, you guessed it, MUD. Lots and lots of mud. But it was A BLAST. Compared to the Tough Mudder it was cake. The weather was perfect, the people friendly, and the course was tons of fun. It felt so good to get out and run. We pushed ourselves, ran the entire time, conquered all the hills, and got covered in mud. I will definitely do this race again!

On a personal note it was especially wonderful for me because it restored some of the confidence I lost after not finishing the Tough Mudder. It also put into perspective just how tough the Tough Mudder really was. If I can offer any advice to those of you considering conquering a Tough Mudder it would be this: get a few "easier" races under your belt first. Do some mud runs and warrior dashes and things of that nature before you take on a Tough Mudder. It will only boost your confidence and increase your chances of success.

Here is a picture for you! I can't say enough about how proud I am of my girls! They killed it. I was so impressed by them and honored to call them my friends.

Laurie, me, Melissa, and Kasey post Mud Run

Tough Mudder After Thoughts

2011-06-09T10:54:00.000-07:00

The Perseverance Project Post:

If any of you follow my blog Waiting for Morning you have probably read by now that I didn't finish the Tough Mudder.

To make a long story short the cold and wet became too much for me and I called it a day at mile 5.5. A few hours under warm blankets and some dry clothes made me good as new except for my wounded pride.

It really bothers me that I didn't finish.

It has been a few weeks now and I've spent a lot of time mulling this over in my mind. The whole point of this blog, of my life, is to persevere...so you can imagine that this isn't sitting well with me. But at the same time, there is something to be said about taking on something that could very well be too much. Only pursuing what we are certain to succeed at doesn't build character. It is the risk involved, the very real potential of failure, that makes succeeding-persevering-a triumph. Nothing is accomplished in playing it safe...

Which is all well and good when, despite the odds, the goal is met. Then you can have a party and pat yourself on the back and feel super good about all the hard work you put in because, well, it all paid off.

But what about when it doesn't? What about FAILURE?

I don't like FAILURE. Mostly I don't like it because I don't like the feeling that accompanies it. Failure feels like the moment just before you throw up, that really sick feeling accompanied by complete panic-you know exactly what I mean. But unlike being sick, failure lingers. It sticks with you. Well, it sticks with me.

The fact of the matter is, I did not meet my goal. I set out to finish the Tough Mudder and I didn't. That disappoints me. But...

Lets keep it in perspective. The Tough Mudder was a HUGE goal for me. From the beginning I worried it was over my head. And although I trained very hard for it, I knew it wasn't hard enough. Life prevented me from being where I knew I needed to be. And that happens sometimes. I am not one of those in shape even when I'm out of shape type of people. Being a mom and wife and running my tea company took its toll on me. I did my best with the time I had, but at the end of the day my limited time was NOT enough. Unfortunately this is real life and that is what happens in real life-we are not always as ready as we need to be.

These are not excuses though, just facts. I didn't succeed at the Tough Mudder YET-but the experience was not lost on me. I learned TONS about myself. I learned that I like belly crawling though mud and gravel. I learned that, through will power alone, I can submerge myself in ice cold water. I also learned that I know when enough is enough. I know my limits and I know when to call it a day. Sometimes it is better to live to fight another day.

The single benefit of failure is that I will use the experience to succeed at my next Tough Mudder. Yes-I am not finished. I said that I would finish the entire thing and I will. I wasn't successful two weeks ago but that doesn't mean I just throw my hands up. It means that I get even MORE ready and I try AGAIN until I succeed.

Because that is what perseverance is-never giving up.

Failure is only failure if we let it stop us. Failure becomes power if we let it motivate us.

And trust me. I am feeling pretty motivated right now.

Here is my last thought...as I climbed up the mountain in Snow Valley two weeks ago surrounded by other Tough Mudders along side my wonderful teammates (and friends) I thought about my girls. I was cold (ridiculously cold) and wet and really starting to doubt my ability to make it to the end. Mentally I was struggling as much as I was struggling physically. I felt overwhelmed-the altitude, the cold, the wet, the incline, the distance-it all seemed beyond my capabilities. But so did losing my girls three years ago. Grief is a tough mountain to climb too. I never thought I'd survive it.

Yet here I am.

The Tough Mudder was TOUGH. Super tough. But hands down, grief was (is) tougher. And I had to be carried down the mountain of grief more than once before I finally made it to the top. I broke down countless time convinced I just couldn't go another step. But I refused to give up. I had failures. I had set backs. I faced things I didn't even know I'd be facing-things I wasn't ready for. But I didn't let it stop me. I let the failure teach me how to succeed the next time around and I tried as many times as I need to...

I'll be stronger the next time I step on that mountain, any mountain.

So I guess it wasn't as much of a failure as it was a set back. And in the scheme of things, it was a privilege to be "set back"- I am stronger for it.

I'll keep you posted on my next Tough Mudder adventure. I will earn that orange head band soon enough.

Tough Mudder Results

2011-06-04T09:47:00.000-07:00

Kasey, Jacqueline, me and Melissa Pre-mudder

It has been a week since Tough Mudder So Cal. I had to let the dust settle before I posted about it because well...

I didn't cross the finish line.

Four hours, ten obstacles, and 5.5 miles up the mountain the cold became too much for me. The combination of 45 degree water and wind sent be back down the mountain hypothermic and exhausted. After a few hours under warm blankets I was as good as new-well almost- except for a few bumps and scrapes and a bit of a bruised ego.

The rest of my team made it (Kasey, Melissa, and Jacqueline-best teammates ever). They pushed through the cold, the wet, and the hours of literal mountain climbing to earn their orange headbands. And trust me, they did earn them.

The day wasn't all bad though. There were definite highlights. I found out that I actually enjoy belly-crawling through water, mud and gravel and I did better than I thought I'd do on the monkey bars. Kasey gets the monkey bar award of the day though. We watched her dominate until some random girl popped up out of the water below and knocked her off three bars before the end. We couldn't believe it! She was so close. For me though, the best moments of the whole day was our amazing display of teamwork as we carried a very heavy, very large log up and back down a very steep hill. It was a good moment for us.

I also learned a lot about myself. I learned that failure isn't always failure. I took a huge giant step outside of my comfort zone to even attempt a Tough Mudder. I think it is important to try things that we might not succeed at. If we only do what we know we can do then we won't grow or be strengthened. And for me, this chapter is not closed. I will try again. I'm not done. I won't be satisfied until I cross the finish line and get that orange headband too.

I will however learn from my mistakes. I will dress better, fuel better, and be in better cardiovascular condition. Isn't that life though. Sometimes we find ourselves in situations we thought we were ready for only to discover we weren't. But that doesn't mean we just throw in the towel. It means that we have to get more ready, try harder, and, no matter how may tries it takes, finish.

I'll keep you posted on my next Tough Mudder adventure. I am thinking NorCal in September or Texas in October. In the meantime here are a few pictures of the day.

Jacqueline

Kasey

Me and Melissa

Melissa, Jacqueline, T-Rex, me, and Kasey Post-Mudder

Choosing to be Chosen

2011-05-11T08:17:00.000-07:00

I woke up more slowly this morning than usual. I stared at the ceiling listening to the baby on the monitor. I needed to get up, but I just didn't want to.

Since Mother's Day I've felt a heaviness in my heart. It, like much of my life, is a bittersweet experience, stirring up both joy and sorrow with in me. The sorrow seems to have lingered though. This morning I felt it especially.

I forced myself out of bed. Once I got the kids fed I made myself a cup of tea and here I sit, the heaviness still in my heart and my computer in my lap, trying to put how I'm feeling into words.

Where to begin?

I still have moments when I look in the mirror and I don't recognize who is staring back at me. I often can't believe that this is my life. Sometimes it seems too much to accept, too much to truly wrap my head around. To further complicate things, the more time goes by the more the blessings of my life become entangled with the disappointments, so much so that I can't seem to separate the two. Without the pain I would not know God as I do now and I would not have all the accompanying blessings, but it all seems to have come at the highest possible cost, a cost I am still resentful of at times. It is something I simply do not understand.

I don't like feeling this way though. I know that every single moment of my life, everything that has happened, filtered through God's hands first. It was all purposefully allowed. It was chosen for me. I was chosen for it.

The hard part is choosing to be chosen.

God has chosen each one of us. He has allowed our lives to be what they are and has woven his perfect plan throughout every part of them. Like Joseph in the pit and Job on a heap of ashes, we all cry out. We want to know why? Why my babies? Why my family? Why my life? Why me?

But also like Joseph in the pit and Job on the ashes, we cannot see God's big picture. All we can do is trust, trust that God has allowed this pain to bring about a purpose that could never be accomplished without it.

God may or may not bring us out of our pit, but He will join us in it, and He will certainly be glorified through it.

Choosing to be chosen doesn't mean choosing the circumstances, it means choosing Him despite the circumstances. It means choosing to trust and choosing to obey.

I didn't choose what happened to my girls. In many respects, I didn't choose this life, it was chosen for me.

But everyday I strive to choose the Chooser.

I choose Him. I choose His will. And I choose His purpose.

I choose to be chosen.

Do you?

Audience Participation!

2011-05-05T15:57:00.000-07:00

I need help. And I think you all (my wonderful amazing readers) are just the people to help me.

My sister and I have decided to add God's Word to our tea labels. We are moving away from the generic emotional well-being aspect of the tea and putting a greater emphasis on the comfort and healing it offers. The tea comforts, the herbs nourish, and God's Truth heals.

I have been searching through the entire Bible to find the scriptures I think correspond with each tea best, but I am having trouble deciding.

So, I though I'd ask you. Which scriptures come to mind when you read the tea names?

Our six teas are:
1)Achieve Clarity
2)Discover Joy
3)Seek Peace
4)Have Hope
5)Enjoy Rest
6)Find Strength

I'd appreciate your input. You can visit our Teamotions website if you'd like to read more about each tea. If you think you have the perfect scripture, leave it in a comment. I can't wait to see which you pick!

A Little Gift for YOU!

2011-04-29T07:59:00.000-07:00

Just in time for Mother's Day...get 10% off your Teamotions order by using coupon code AubreyEllie. Tell your friends about it. It is for EVERYONE! Enjoy!

And the winners are...

2011-04-27T12:56:00.000-07:00

I have the winners for the Teamotions Mother's Day Give-Away (produced by a random number generator).

The five winners of the 50% off coupons are:

Heather said... My mom is definitely deserving of anything that can bring her rest and peace. She's a hard worker. Less than 2 years from retirement but is still the first to arrive and last to leave work each day. She also does so much for me and for my girls. I've been in remission from cancer for 3 years but it's taken a toll. Because of that she is very much a mom and grandma to them. I am so blessed to have my mom.

Gorby family blog said... I would love to win tea for my sweet mother. She's the BEST! She's is such a dedicated mother to six children and just as much a dedicated grandmother to her 11 grandchildren. She's amazing and I don't know what we'd do without her!

Natasha said... My mom LOVES tea and so do I! She is the most amazing mom- after losing our son she stepped in and keep us on our feet until we could do it on our own. She's done this my whole life- always there for us through any storm. She definitely deserves a cup of your lovely tea!!!

C.C. Almon said... I knew nothing about your teas before I visited your website and I am so impressed at the thought behind your line of teas. Love the way you are honoring and remembering your precious little ones.

Jenna said... My mom has always been there for me and even though we don't have the same views on everything, she's always prayed for me and been there when I needed her most.I also liked your facebook fan page! You are such a blessing, Jenna

And the Grand Prize Winner of two FREE tins of tea of their choice is...

All My Monkeys said... My mom is a tea lover, and taught me to love tea. She is constantly giving, and loving, and a great encourager (a trait I hope to learn from her). She has weathered many family storms in the last 15 yrs, and now is the time for her to concentrate on herself, and find her own health and healing. This tea would be something she would truly appreciate. And i wouldn't mind some myself.

Please email me at Rachel@teamotionstea.com to claim your prize (tea or coupon)! Put GIVE-AWAY WINNER in the subject line. I look forward to hearing from you!

And since the rest of you blessed us by telling us how wonderful your mothers are and sharing your stories with us, we want to bless you back. Go to our website www.teamotionstea.com and type in AubreyEllie to receive 10% off your order until May 31st!

Thank you for participating and we hope you LOVE your tea.

Give-Away Ends Today!

2011-04-27T07:47:00.001-07:00

This is your last chance to enter the Teamotions Mother's Day Give-Away. I will pick a winner at noon today, PST. Don't forget to tell your friends and share the love! I also have a special surprise for EVERY SINGLE entry so stay tuned! It might be your lucky day!

Easter

2011-04-24T08:14:00.000-07:00

If you are looking for the Teamotions Mother's Day Give-Away-click here!

This morning my son woke me up by standing quietly in our bedroom doorway whispering "The Easter Bunny came! The Easter Bunny came!" I told him to bring his basket up to me and we would look inside to see what he got. I watched him skip downstairs and reappear with a basket filled with gifts.

Easter is an important day around our house. We don't view it as just a holiday, but as the most important event the world has ever known. I do some of the traditional holiday things; Easter baskets and dying eggs. I don't think a little chocolate ever hurt, well, anything. But we make sure that none of those things overshadow what Easter is really about...

Jesus did what he said he would do and rose again! He lives! And that means everything.

This year inside my son's Easter basket were two very important gifts; his first Bible (he is reading now and not even in Kindergarten brag brag) and a beautifully illustrated Bible story book called The Jesus Story. It puts the stories of the Bible, old testament and new, into words that children can understand while showing them how Jesus is woven throughout them all.

You should have seen my son's face! He lit up when he saw his Bible, name on it in silver and everything, and said "My own Bible? So I can learn more about God? I love it. Its my very own Bible." Yes, at times he sounds as if he was scripted, but that is the kind of kid he is. He has never hidden a single one of his thoughts or feelings from us. And I like him that way. I am working hard as a parent to preserve that tender, expressive, and honest part of him.

When he saw the Jesus story book he wanted me to read it immediately. We went straight to the Easter story and read from the Crucifixion to Pentecost. I could feel Dustin breathing in my ear laying as close to me as humanly possible asking me to read more each time I got to the end of one of the little stories. If he had his way we would have read the entire book.

I feel that way with God sometimes. I look at the story of my life straining to see Jesus woven throughout. Sometimes I do see Him, and, sadly, sometimes I don't. Not that He wasn't there, but I missed Him somehow. At times I have been so blind. I have desperately latched on to my Heavenly Father, breathing in His ear to reveal to me more of my story, most importantly, how my story ends.

Since my girls died I have struggled with living out my story without knowing how it ends. My faith has been weary. I want to know how all these pieces, the broken and shattered parts of my heart, will ever be put back together again to create the ultimate good ending that suffering and trials are supposed to produce. All the good things seem lacking in comparison to twhat it has cost me.

As I write this two empty Easter baskets sit next to each other on the table. I made them myself. I painted them and wrapped them in silk ribbon. They are quite beautiful. I couldn't figure out what to put in them this year. I love to remember my girls but it also hurts to fill up Christmas stockings and Easter baskets with things they will never get only to un-fill them later and cry over all that death has stolen from me. I left them empty this time, but it didn't lessen the tears.

Empty isn't always bad though. Empty Easter baskets remind me of Jesus' empty tomb. Without the emptiness of the grave I would have no hope, no power, no life, no joy, and no comfort. Nor would my sweet babies. Easter mean their grave is also empty. Their souls have been taken to heaven by Jesus, who died and rose again on this day to save us, all of us, from death.

My girls are not with me today, but I have the hope of the Resurrection to comfort me. I will see them again. My pain is not over yet. The transformation God has begun in me is not finished. My questions will remain as will the empty seats at my table and the empty places in my heart. My girls will never come back to me. Yet I will be patient and faithful because, although I don't know all the pages of my story yet, I do know how it ends. My girls cannot come to me, but one day I will go to them.

And Easter is what makes that possible.

When my days are up I will be reunited with my Savior. I will finally see him face to face and if I can utter any words in His presence I hope they will be thank you...Thank you for Easter.

Then I will turn around and my girls will be there.

Happy Easter! May the emptiness of Jesus' tomb fill you with hope! HE IS RISEN!

Mother's Day Give-Away!

2011-04-22T13:34:00.000-07:00

Today is your lucky day!

I am giving away 5 Teamotions 50% off coupons for Mother's Day as well as one lucky winner will receive two tins of tea of their choice (one for them and one for mom)!

Many of you have never heard of Teamotions, but it is time you did! Teamotions is the legacy of
my daughters Aubrey and Ellie who sadly left this earth to be with Jesus in July 2008. Their short lives changed my life forever. I'd like to share their legacy with you. Read how Teamotions came to be here.

Teamotions teas are simply my way of comforting others just as I was comforted during the saddest time of my life. I wish I could be there, with you, to offer a hug and a listening ear. However, it is impossible for me to be with everyone everywhere, but I can offer tea. And not just any tea, special tea. Tea created with compassion and blended with amazing herbs called adaptogens that nurture and support our physical and emotional well-being. God has given us many things to help comfort and heal us, I believe tea is one of them.

Teamotions makes a wonderful gift for anyone anytime, but especially for mom on Mother's Day for many reasons. All moms need some TLC and appreciating them just one day a year is not enough. A gift of Teamotions shows your love and appreciation with every cup, over and over, day after day. Teamotions teas also make a thoughtful gift for the mother you know who has lost a child, baby or pregnancy and needs extra sensitivity on Mother's Day. I know first hand how difficult Mother's Day can be after loss and a cup of tea sure soothed my aching heart.

Who can you bless with Teamotions this Mother's Day?

Here is how to enter:

You can enter by leaving a comment on this post and telling me how much your mother deserves Teamotions for Mother's day. Also, you can like our Teamotions facebook page and leave a comment that you did so. You can enter yet another time by visiting our Teamotions website and leaving a comment about something you learned on the site that you didn't know before.

The winners will be picked at random on Wednesday 4/27. You will be notified via a post on this blog announcing the winners and you can claim your prize via email.

Good Luck!!!!

Down Deep

2011-04-17T19:30:00.000-07:00

I had the privilege of spending my weekend at a women's retreat put on by my amazing church at the Calvery Chappel Conference Center in Murrieta Hot Springs. I cannot even explain to you how much I had been looking forward to this weekend and it did not disappoint. In all honesty, it was probably the best retreat I have ever been to (and I have been to a lot). I was encouraged, equipped, uplifted, changed, challenged, and touched. But more importantly that all of that (because I have been to many retreats that moved me and stirred the emotions of my faith) I was redirected. This weekend was a turning point in my faith and my life. I didn't so much feel the shift as I recognized it with my knower, that part of me that doesn't ebb and flow with the changing tide of my emotions but the part of me that I can rely on to identify truth when I see it. God met me at the steps of my soul and reset my course, pointing me away from everything else and back toward Him. Our speaker, Jill Briscoe, was amazing. She spoke on what she called life lessons. She shared with us what God has taught her in all her years in the ministry and as a missionary and the lessons were profound. They were too many to mention now, but they will be the topics of my blog posts for the next few months (yes I said months) so stay tuned if you want to hear stories and scripture that will change your life. In the meantime, you can check out Jill Briscoe's website and be blessed. She has written a ton of books and also has articles, audio lessons, pod casts, and all kinds of life changing things on there. I will be doing a give-away of one of her books (which book is a surprise) in the coming weeks so stay tuned. I KNOW it will bless your life beyond measure. I also had the privilege of meeting Sarah Macintosh who sings like an angel. She led us in worship right into the throne room of God. She has a new album out and another in the works. I will also be doing a give-away of her CD soon because, well, it is just that good. Again, check back or you might miss it! Until then, I want to leave you with a little taste of what I experienced this weekend. It is a poem and a prayer from a book written by Jill Briscoe called Faith Dancing. I have become enamored with this whole concept of dancing faith. As a baby-lost momma I have grown accustomed to a weary faith. A faith that struggles and strives and collapses in exhaustion from all the hurting, trying, and coping. The healing moments exist, but they are fleeting. The heaviness always seems to creep back onto my shoulders. I try to fight it off, but at the end of the day I climb in bed and I still HURT. It feels like the last three years have been nothing but pain management and I'm spent. I can barely walk let alone dance... But I'd like my faith to dance again. I'd like to enjoy the rest that only comes when Jesus is near. I'd like to trade my tired faith for a renewed faith, for a faith that doesn't just trudge along but dances. There is work to be done for me. Before my faith can dance I must let God in, way in, down deep. I think this concept is extra difficult for someone like me who has experienced such pain. I know how deep pain can go and those crevices and pits are not easy to reach. Of course I know God can get to those places, but I am not sure I want Him to. I don't now how much it is going to hurt to clean out what are still tender, open wounds. But as Jill Briscoe said, "There is absolutely no way I can do the work I've committed to do on the outside of me unless God is doing the work He committed to do on the inside of me." But He can't get in unless I let Him. "I simply need to give him permission to be who He is, as deep down as He wishes to go." Only then will my faith learn to dance.

Down In My Life

by Jill Briscoe

Down in my life where it’s restless and wild,

Down in my life where the adult’s a child,

Down in my fears and worries and care

Suddenly Jesus is there.

Touching my heart strings He sings me a song,

Quiets the child till she’s steady and strong,

Banishes worries – just smiles them away

Turning my night into day.

Down in my life where the troubles run deep,

Down in my life when I can’t get to sleep,

Down in my life when life isn’t fair,

Suddenly Jesus is there.

Rebuking the turmoil; He sends it away,

Gives peace in the panic and helps me to pray,

Turns sorrow to praising, surprises my pain,

And bids me to face life again.

Down in my life where I’m lonely and old,

Deep in my heart when my spirit is cold,

Down in my life when I don’t know what’s best

Suddenly Jesus gives rest.

“Gift doesn’t age” He remarks with a smile,

“I’ll set your soul dancing and make life worthwhile,

I’ll guide you in righteousness: wisdom’s delight:

And nerve your faint heart for the fight.”

He stands in my shadows and the light on His face

Reflects all His love and His mercy and grace

Right down in my life where nobody goes:

Deep in “this” heart the Lord knows.

Down in my life where it’s restless and wild,

Down in my life where the adult’s a child,

Down in my soul I’m acutely aware

Suddenly Jesus is there!"

Making Strides

2011-03-23T20:42:00.000-07:00

Today my son Dustin told me that he counted all the people in our family. He pointed to me and to Colton and to himself and added in dad of course and then pointed to heaven twice and said "five and six." He smiled sweetly as I rubbed his head and told him how much it means to me that he remembers his sisters and counts them. I love that he takes his big brother roll so seriously. He has always been an old soul.

I spent the rest of the day missing my girls but in a different way than usual. No tears, no depression, no questions...I just let myself feel the void. I listened to the silence made my two missing little girls and looked around at the mess that wasn't there. The Aubrey and Ellie shaped hole in my heart is permanent, but I'm getting more used to it. Not that I like it, but I accept it. It is just part of me now.

I am making strides.

I wish you could all meet my little Colton. At 8 months old he already has five teeth! He is crawling all over (has been for a while now) and loves to eat blueberries. His latest totally adorable habit is this little wave he does. I think he has discovered his hands and is impressed with how he can make them rotate at the wrist. He holds both of them up and waves countless times a day with this darling look on his face. He is in awe as am I. In awe of my amazing baby and all the cute things he does. And amazingly I feel that awe most of the time without wondering what cute things Aubrey and Ellie would have done that I will never see. Instead of sadness I smile.

I am making strides.

The past two weeks have been rough for me. I got sick. And I mean SICK. I got this sore throat cough and congestion thing that latched on to me and wouldn't let go. I was even sick on my birthday. I HATE being sick, and not just because it is miserable, but because I always blame myself for getting sick. I just know it is my own fault for not taking care of myself like I should or eating too much processed food or not getting enough sleep (I blame Colt for that!) and I just know that my body is trying to tell me something, trying to send me a message, if only I could figure out what that message is. I took herbs and Vitamin C and wrapped a hot pack around my neck with essential oils all in a attempt to heal myself. I was determined to beat it . But I didn't. It kicked my butt for 11 days straight. 11 DAYS STRAIGHT! I was miserable without question, but this time I forgave myself for getting sick. I let myself off the hook for not being indestructible. I also didn't let my disaster of a house make me feel like failure as a wife and mother. Being sick and house keeping are fundamentally opposed and I let it all be ok.

I am making strides. (And I feel much better now...I am back to training for the Tough Mudder)

Blessed. Content. Healthy.

I would have never thought it possible.

Yet it is.

"...with God all things are possible." Matthew 19:26

My 30s

2011-03-13T20:04:00.000-07:00

So today is my birthday. I turned 31. To be honest I don't really mind. Once you pass 30 the years get easier to swallow. It really isn't that bad being in my 30s anyway. It isn't bad at all.

When I was young and used to think about being in my 30s it felt SO far away. I would cruise around in my blue 81 El Camino feeling a lifetime from 30. I was sure that by the time I was 30 I'd be settled and secure. Settled meant married with kids and secure meant finally at peace with myself, not because I finally accepted my imperfections but because by the time I was 30 I had fixed them all.

I executed my genius plan of getting settled by marrying a Marine and moving 6 times in the first three and a half years of marriage and enduring two deployments (with more to come). And that inner security I was planning to cultivate, well it turns out that for every flaw I thought I had at 16 I really have two more, and this time they are actually real flaws. At 16 I wanted smaller thighs, now I want more integrity, discipline, selflessness, and conviction.

Now that I am in my 30s I laugh at myself at 16. My expectations bordered on crazy and turned out to be impossible. Here I sit at 31, no where close to over the hill. but more like suspended somewhere on the uphill slope holding on for dear life. I still have a ways to climb before I'm in the clear, if there even is a such thing.

So does that mean I am behind or that did I have it wrong from the start?

I am pretty sure I had it wrong from the start. One benefit of hindsight right?

I have a completely different perspective now. What I thought was up to me to accomplish with my own power and will, the life that I was going to carve out for myself, the person I was going to become, was never really within my ability in the first place. I over estimated myself and underestimated God. The life I had planned was much easier. But the one I have now is so much richer.

After 31 years I have not learned better life management skills or become more organized. I have not discovered tricks to successful living, mastered running my own life or being my own person.

What I have learned is how to let go.

I have learned to surrender my life, my dreams, my hopes and my plans to THE ONE who knows how to give me the life I need, the life that will make me less like the person I wanted to be at 16 and more like the person I want to be now, the person I need to be-more like Christ.

I can't say that I always enjoyed the process and I still have a lot of questions, but I value the fruit. I am hungrier now than I ever have been to be the woman God wants me to be so that I can live the life He wants me to live.

I don't want to do it all and have it all anymore. I only want to do and have what really matters. I don't want to be settled and secure. Self-sufficiency is overrated. I want to get better at letting God run my life, at surrendering, and at trusting. And if that means my life falls short of my expectations at 16, I am ok with that. What did I really know at 16 anyway? What do any of us know?

I will leave you with what has become my favorite Bible verse. I included two different translations. It really puts things in perspective.

2 Cor 6:3-10
3 We try to live in such a way that no one will be hindered from finding the Lord by the way we act, and so no one can find fault with our ministry. 4 In everything we do we try to show that we are true ministers of God. We patiently endure troubles and hardships and calamities of every kind. 5 We have been beaten, been put in jail, faced angry mobs, worked to exhaustion, endured sleepless nights, and gone without food. 6 We have proved ourselves by our purity, our understanding, our patience, our kindness, our sincere love, and the power of the Holy Spirit. 7 We have faithfully preached the truth. God's power has been working in us. We have righteousness as our weapon, both to attack and to defend ourselves. 8 We serve God whether people honor us or despise us, whether they slander us or praise us. We are honest, but they call us impostors. 9 We are well known, but we are treated as unknown. We live close to death, but here we are, still alive. We have been beaten within an inch of our lives. 10 Our hearts ache, but we always have joy. We are poor, but we give spiritual riches to others. We own nothing, and yet we have everything. NLT

2 Cor 6:3-10
3 We put no stumbling block in anyone's path, so that our ministry will not be discredited. 4 Rather, as servants of God we commend ourselves in every way: in great endurance; in troubles, hardships and distresses; 5 in beatings, imprisonments and riots; in hard work, sleepless nights and hunger; 6 in purity, understanding, patience and kindness; in the Holy Spirit and in sincere love; 7 in truthful speech and in the power of God; with weapons of righteousness in the right hand and in the left; 8 through glory and dishonor, bad report and good report; genuine, yet regarded as impostors; 9 known, yet regarded as unknown; dying, and yet we live on; beaten, and yet not killed; 10 sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; poor, yet making many rich; having nothing, and yet possessing everything. NIV

Launch Week Day 2 Special!!!

2011-02-23T10:24:00.000-08:00

Go to http://www.teamotionstea.com/ and place a minimum order of $30 (subtotal) and get a perfect tea scoop for free!

Teamotions Launch Week Specials!!!

2011-02-22T15:30:00.000-08:00

To honor the launch of our website we are offering not just a day, but a WEEK of specials. Check back here or go to our facebook page every day this week for that day's special.

Today's Special is (drum role please!)....

Place an order on our website and be automatically entered into a drawing to have your order doubled for free! Enjoy the extra tea yourself or give it to a friend.

Happy tea drinking friends!

Milestone Day!

2011-02-22T12:54:00.000-08:00

Today is a special day. A milestone. A milestone in my healing and a milestone in my company Teamotions.

Today we launched our Teamotions website: www.teamotionstea.com.

Two and a half years ago I sat in a folding chair facing a tiny casket with my two babies inside it. I remember feeling so disoriented. It didn't feel real to me. The sun was out and a breeze was blowing inland. I could smell the ocean on the wind. I just sat there with their pictures in my hands frozen, staring, not thinking, not feeling. I didn't want to move. I was waiting to wake up from a really bad dream.

Eventually I did stand and walk away. I left my babies behind because I had to. But I made them a promise that I have kept and will continue to keep until the day I die.

I will never let them be forgotten.

Teamotions is their legacy. It is their mark on the world. Through Teamotions I can share their story with the world.

My girls only lived for a handful of days. With the exception of my closest family, a few friends, and some doctors, no one even met them. But the length of their lives does not reflect their value or impact. They matter to me and through Teamotions they matter to the world. It is my honor to honor them this way.

Let me know what you think of our website. I am quite proud of it. I know my girls would be proud of me.

New Perseverance Project

2011-02-09T20:32:00.000-08:00

Check out http://www.theperseveranceproject.blogspot.com/ for my latest perseverance project. It's the craziest one yet!

Family Photos

2011-02-09T19:53:00.001-08:00

Teamotions Sale!!!!

2011-02-09T08:49:00.001-08:00

Our website will launch at the end of this month (finally!!!) but in the meantime we have tins of tea with OLD labels on them ON SALE. Now is the time to stock up. Same great tea, just a different label.

Get 10% off 1-2 tins or 15% off 3 or more tins. Sachets and loose available. Supplies Limited. Find Strength Sold Out!

Leave your email in the comments of this post and I will email more information and an order form.

Thank you for supporting Teamotions!!!

www.teamotionstea.com
www.teamotions.blogspot.com
www.facebook.com/teamotions

Little Fish

2011-02-02T21:28:00.001-08:00

My mother gave my son Dustin a little blue fish as a gift sometime last year. It is one of those beta fighting fish. Although it is beautiful, it lives a very solitary life. If you put other fish in the bowl, it will kill them immediately, so all alone it stays.

It lives in a glass vase on my kitchen windowsill right above the sink. When I wash dishes I stare at it, and I wash dishes often so I stare at it a lot.

To be honest, I find its solitary existence depressing. I feel bad for it swimming around in such a small space with no friends or relationships. Surely even fish get lonely right? I wonder if it is sad or bored every time I look at it. Does it long for a different life? Does it ever wonder if it was meant for more than this fish bowl existence?

It began to bother me so much that I brought my burden for this little fish to the Lord.

"Lord, you care for all the creatures of the land and sea. You created each one with a purpose. What is the purpose of this little fish?"

Weeks went by.

I just stared at the little fish day after day wondering.

And then I figured it out. Or rather, God told me. The little fish was not lonely or bored, it knew something and lived by it. Something I know but forget too easily.

GOD IS ENOUGH.

Maybe its purpose was to remind me of that? I don't know. But it isn't the first time God used a fish.

De-Funked

2011-01-23T15:13:00.001-08:00

Well, I am not completely defunked yet, but I am on my way.

The comments and emails I received were SO helpful. Thank you, all of you. Thank you for encouraging me, advising me, supporting me, and pointing me again toward Christ. I was really touched.

As I read your comments and mulled them over in my mind I had a long conversation with God. A much needed conversation that I have had parts of here and there, but I've never quite spit it all out...

Lord, what does it matter if I am near or far from you, if I pray or not, if I seek your way for my life or go off on my own...my prayers don't seem to carry any weight nor my love for you count for much. At the end of the day, you are God and I am just me and what you have planned for me is what you have planned for me, so honestly, tell me, what does it really matter?

This question has been swirling in my mind since the moment my Ellie died. And when my Aubrey died a week later my suspicions were confirmed. It seems to me that God does what God does despite the fact that I prayed with all my being for my daughters to live. And when they did not, the only conclusion I could come to was that it was all already decided and what I wanted didn't matter.

Everyday since it has been hard for me to pray because I feel...I'm not even sure the right word...defeated/blocked/shut-down perhaps. My feelings are hurt to say the least. I find myself expressing gratitude and honor for God out of fear. If He thinks me ungrateful He might allow more suffering, more loss, and more pain in my life. And I can't ask for anything not only because I think my requests will not be considered but also because I greatly resent when lesser significant prayers are answered but the most important prayers of my life to save my babies went unanswered.

It is a fierce inner struggle. No wonder I am so exhausted all the time!

And this is where it gets even more complicated. I have been a Christian a long time. I have loved, I mean LOVED, Jesus since I was a young girl and willingly devoted my life to serving Him. I have studied his Word for almost two decades and I know what it says.

Despite how I feel I do know the Truth.

The truth is that God is near to the hurting and he answers prayer. He heard my cries and he hears them still. He is compassionate, patient, and kind. He choose me, rescued me, and rejoices over me in singing (Zephaniah 3:17).

And God did not ignore my prayers. He heard every word, every single one.

So how do I cross over? How do I get from how I feel-betrayed, disappointed, and resistant-to what I know-a loving God who wants to shoulder the burden for me if I would allow Him to? A God who did not take my girls but saved my girls and restored their tiny broken bodies to what He always intended for them; LIFE ABUNDANTLY. After all, it is His Will that none would perish. How it must break His heart to see babies suffer so.

It think the real issue is allowing myself to become vulnerable again, to trust and love Him again after this season of distance and resistance. Before my girls died I was a do what you want with me God kind of girl. Now just the thought of giving God the reigns again scares me to death. On one hand I feel like God let me down, but on the other hand I honestly doubt I could do a better job with my life on my own. The thought of trusting God again is easier to consider when I evaluate the alternative. Although it hurts, I see that God made the better choice, the best choice, to restore my girls despite the pain it has caused me. He knew it was what I really wanted, in the deepest part of my mother's heart, I wanted them to be whole and well and I was willing to pay any price for it. He knew my heart and He honored my prayers, my secret prayers that even I didn't want to admit I prayed.

In order to cross over I have to re-learn who my God is. I have to learn to see clearly through the pain and trust the truth again. It is time to dive deep into His Word and rediscover who He has always been...as He has not changed, I am the one who has changed.

This journey is a long road. MUCH longer than I ever imagined it would be. When I choose healing I had no idea the depth of the transformation that would really be taking place in me. I've hit some pretty big hurdles along the way but I refuse to give up. I don't want to miss out on what God has for me. I don't want all this pain to be for nothing.

...let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. James 1:4 NIV

The Funky Funk

2011-01-21T20:36:00.000-08:00

I can't shake this funk.

I think (well, I know) that I am tired. I was in San Fran the last five days launching my tea at the Fancy Foods Show. It was an amazing time. It was so validating to have such a positive reception. Teamotions got rave reviews to say the least. It was so rewarding to tell Aubrey and Ellie's story. But it absolutely exhausted me. All the talking and the standing drained me more than I anticipated. Since I returned I am barely functioning, but it was worth it.

Aside from being tired though, I am in a funk. It is as if I have a cloud hanging over me. I feel this way from time to time unfortunately. It seems to be part of my life now. But I can't seem to shake it this time. Truth be told, I'm feeling pretty low.

Since Aubrey and Ellie died I have struggled with bouts of depression from time to time. When I get tired or run down I seem to be more susceptible. Usually all I need is a day or two to snap myself out of it...

I have always had a hard time turning off my brain. I think a lot about a lot. You name it and I have probably given thought to it at some point in my life. I have the ability to talk a lot also, but if people knew how much I think about that I never talk about they would realize I exercise a lot more self control than it seems. The bottom line is, my brain never stops and sometimes it is down right tormenting.

Lately I feel like I am ALWAYS coming up short. I am not the mother I should be. I don't get enough done every day. I am not as fit as I should be nor am I thin enough yet because I still can't fit into most of my pre-pregnancy clothes. I don't know enough about the things I ought to know about. I don't read as much as I should. I don't eat as healthy as I should. I don't workout as often as I should. And I certainly don't give God the time and attention He deserves.

I constantly fear not paying enough attention to all the things I should be paying attention to. My house is a mess, I let my son watch too much TV, and since I got home from San Fransisco my milk supply has been down. Drastically down. Colt refused to nurse today and it crushed me. He isn't even six months old yet and I feel as if he doesn't want anyting to do with me. If I would have known my milk supply would have suffered so much I would have never gone or found a way to take him with me, after all, it is my responsibility to make sure these kinds of things don't happen right?

If I don't pay enough attention something bad will happen again. It was not paying enough attention that took my girls from me in the first place.

I know it sounds crazy but that is honestly how I feel. I cannot explain to you how many times I have wondered if I had paid more attention would Aubrey and Ellie still be alive?

I also don't feel that there is a single place in my life where I can go and not be measured, judged, rated, and graded. I miss having that safe place where I am not constantly critiqued and compared.

Sadly, my worst critic is probably me. I am the one who carries so much guilt and blames myself for my daughters' deaths. I am the one who can't stop comparing and critiquing myself every minute of every day.

Not a day goes by that I don't want a rewind or do-over. If only...right?

Forgiving myself has been the most difficult part of healing. It is much easier to forgive others than it is to forgive myself. I can give others the benefit of the doubt, but giving myself the benefit of the doubt would require ignorance about my inner thoughts and that is impossible to do.

I know myself better than anyone. Every thought, every action, every inaction, every motive, every secret...all of it. And I can't seem to just let it all go.

I need advice. How do I forgive myself? How do I let it all go? How do I shake this funk?

Bag of Rocks

2011-01-01T15:31:00.000-08:00

So many wonderful women leave comments on my blog, other women who have walked in my shoes, some ahead of me and others behind me...and although I am so sad for their losses and would give each one of them back their babies if I could, I am thankful that we have been able to find each other. Through them I learn so much and just knowing their stories makes me feel less alone. I wish we could all have tea together someday and meet in person.

Since I began pouring my heart out on this blog over two years ago I have been warned many times to beware of the unpredictability of grief. It has a way of sneaking in unexpectedly and it takes new forms over time. I am just now seeing how true this is.

The birth of my new son this past July was the highlight of my year. His birth was the first true joy I had experienced since my daughter's deaths. It is hard for me to explain it honestly. It was like I had been holding my breath until then and I was finally able to exhale. Something in me came alive again.

But a new baby has not been the remedy I anticipated. The daily joy of my new little one has stirred up new layers of intense grief. And I am frustrated that I didn't see it coming.

My dad and I were talking on the phone a while back and he told me that he found an old journal belonging to my Grandad who passed away about three and a half years ago. In it my Grandad wrote about how we all have our bag of rocks to carry, that life is not always easy and our burdens are not always light. Sometimes I wish my Grandad was still alive so I could ask him how on earth I am supposed to carry this bag of rocks because it seems to be getting heavier all the time. He died before I lost my girls.

My bag of rocks is crushing me these days. I am down right exhausted. And I feel angry because the weight of my grief is stealing the joy of my new son. I feel like everyday is a fight, a literal fight, to keep the good things from being swallowed up by the sadness swirling inside.

I'd like a different bag of rocks please.

Or I'd like to at least be able to throw every rock in my bag at something. I don't know at what but it would sure feel liberating to just let them fly.

But since I can't throw them and I can't trade them what do I do with them? I feel overwhelmingly weighed down. Why did I get this bag of rocks? I feel like I got a heavier bag than most.

Jesus said in Matthew 11:28-30 Come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.

I guess the answer is to ask for help. This is my bag of rocks and always will be, but I don't have to carry it alone. Jesus promises to help me.

Some days I honestly doubt if God is really helping me or not. I feel like I am carrying this all by myself. But the very fact that I am surviving each day, that the heaviness of my grief hasn't crushed me completely, is proof enough that Jesus has helped me carry these rocks every minute of the last two and a half years.

Some rocks are impossible to carry on our own.

I'll leave you with Psalm 23

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
He leads me beside quiet waters,
He refreshes my soul.
He guides me along the right paths for his name's sake.
Even though I walk through the darkest valley,
I will fear no evil for you are with me;
Your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Surely your goodness and love will follow me

all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

Happy New Year!

Cope...Be Honest

2010-12-31T20:11:00.001-08:00

I have not been coping well lately.

Whenever I feel like I have lost my way I often seek the advice of other moms who have lost babies. Recently I found a blog called Our Journey Home written by a wonderful woman named Shan. From her blog I learned that she lost her second daughter Marie the day after she gave birth to her third daughter Sarah. Unable to even comprehend her situation I immediately contacted her and asked "who did you cope...?"

I don't know what I expected her to say and I waited patiently for her advice. She posted her response on her blog. It is the most honest advice I have ever received...

She has no idea.

She didn't cope. She was carried, sheltered, and held. But cope? She doesn't think she did.

I know exactly what she means.

I don't know why it has been so hard for me to admit that I have not coped with my daughters' deaths either. I guess I have been afraid to admit that grief has changed me. I wanted to approach grief like I approach everything in my life: methodically. I wanted to feel proactive. I needed control over something.

Initially I found a lot of comfort in the long list of "Grief Recovery Do's" I made for myself. It gave me something to do, something to distract myself with...run, blog, run more, drink some tea, blog, and run again. Until I was alone of course or the house was too quiet. Then I'd break down and wonder why nothing was working. The pain was swallowing me up.

Those days are such a fog. I felt guilt for hurting so much. I still feel guilty that it is taking so long to shake the grief. I have more good days now than I did a year ago, but what frustrates me is I have not discovered the feel better formula. It seems so random.

Some things don't have a formula.

And it makes sense. I held my babies in my arms as they took their last breaths. I watched them struggle to breathe and I felt them get cold. They were in my arms when the doctor could no longer hear a heart beat. What is the cure for that? There are not enough miles in the world to run that memory away.

I'll be honest. I don't even know what to do most of the time. I still wake up most mornings wondering if maybe this is all a bad dream and when I realize that it isn't I choke back the tears in frustration (because crying all the time gets annoying) and start the day. I ask God to get me through just one more day and wonder when it will get easier, I mean really get easier, because it has been two and a half years and it still feels pretty hard to me. I try to put the pain out of my mind, I try not to dwell on it, but how do you put your children out of your mind?

Tomorrow brings another new year. And with it I have a list of resolutions. Every year since Aubrey and Ellie's deaths I have prayed that this year will be my year of healing. But this year I have a new prayer.

I pray that this year is a year of freedom.

Freedom to cope or not cope, freedom to be the me that I have become, the me that changed forever when I lost my baby girls, and freedom to take an entire lifetime if I need it to heal as unmethodically as is necessary.

If I have another hard year I'm ok with it. If I don't cope I'm allowed. At least I can be honest with myself about it now. And easier on myself.

Happy New Year!

2011 Babylost Calender

2010-12-19T20:39:00.000-08:00

When my daughters died I used to sit for hours and read blogs written by other moms who lost babies. It was comforting to know that I was not alone. Over time I formed friendships with those women. We have never met in person but we share a special bond formed not only by our losses but our desire to honor the memory of the babies we lost.

Two of my babylost friends, Carly Dudley and Franchesca Cox, put together a Life After Loss 2011 Calender using quotes from moms who have experienced the loss of a child. They asked me to contribute and of course I said yes. My quote can be found with the month of December.

Check it out. Let me know what you think.

...The Year Of The Babylost Calendar is a collaboration of raw, honest, beautifully haunting and uplifting quotes from bereaved parents and family members. This calendar has been put together by Babylost sisters Carly Marie Dudley and Franchesca Cox in honour of those family and friends left behind to face another year without their little ones. This calendar has been created in loving memory of Christian Dudley, Jenna Belle Cox and all those children gone too soon. We would like to give all our gratitude and love to the 10 beautiful women who volunteered their words and hearts for us to create this gorgeous calendar for 2011...

http://www.redbubble.com/people/carlymarie/calendars/6458519-3-by-carly-marie-dudley-and-franchesca-cox

Save Babies!

2010-12-17T09:04:00.000-08:00

I saw this amazing organization on Good Morning America today. I was so touched by it because I am a mother of premature babies. My daughters did not survive as you know, but not because everything possible was not done for them. They simply came too soon. As much as my heart still hurts without them, at least I can live knowing we did all we could. How much more would I hurt to wonder or know that they could still be alive if...

Not all babies get the medical care they need to survive and premature babies and low birth weight babies are especially vulnerable. Developing nations specifically can't afford incubators for these babies. But Embrace is working to solve this problem and save babies all over the world. They manufacture an infant warmer that costs 1% of a traditional incubator, does not require electricity, can be cleaned with boiling water, and is reusable.

Please, visit their website www.embraceglobal.org and read how you (for very little time and money) can help them help these tiny babies. Save a life this Christmas.

The Holidays

2010-12-07T13:28:00.000-08:00

Finally! I have all the Christmas decorations up and the house feels warm and twinkly. We have two Christmas trees this year and I wrapped the banister in lights and gold garland. I keep intending to serve a normal weeknight dinner in the dining room just so we can enjoy the decor and take advantage of the loveliness of the season before its gone, but time seems to keep slipping away from me.

Having a little baby has limited my grand holiday plans somewhat. I often express to my husband that there are just not enough hours in the day. But the reality is I need to adjust the demands I put on myself. Colton can't help it if he is teething poor little guy. And I'd rather have my baby in my arms than anywhere else. If only I had a house keeper all my problems would be solved. At least most of them anyway...

I love the holiday season. I always have. But since Aubrey and Ellie died the holidays have not been the same. Each year improves a bit though. This year I am so excited to celebrate Colton's first Christmas. It is nice to have a first Christmas with a new baby.

I hung Aubrey and Ellie's stockings from the mantle next to Dustin's. I look at them bittersweetly as I do most of their things, wondering and remembering. Colt doesn't have a stocking yet. He will get his on Christmas Eve. That is the tradition in our family, my mother makes the most beautiful stockings and she gives them to her grandchildren on their first Christmas Eve. Aubrey and Ellie never got to have a first Christmas but my mom graciously made them stockings anyway. I hang them every year because I can't imagine not including them. Their stockings have a place on the mantle just as they have a place in my heart.

It is hard not to be sad though. I have two stockings but I don't have two little girls. It doesn't feel right at all but I suppose it never will.

My grief still ebbs and flows and lately I've been more down than usual. I have myself to blame in part because I have slacked big time on my daily exercise. Regular exercise, even just a walk with the stroller, is the best antidepressant I know of and it makes an unmistakable difference in my ability to cope. It reminds me that healing is a very tangible process and requires consistent effort. That is probably the best advice I can offer anyone reading this struggling with grief. Healing doesn't just happen, it is a conscious choice the requires hard work and consistency. I wish it was easier but it isn't.

Something else has been bothering me though...

Colton is four months old.

What does that have to do with anything you wonder? Well, nothing and everything.

Colton is my joy. He is sweet, smiley and chubby. He has his first tooth about to pop through and he is one inch away from learning to roll over. He is perfect.

When Aubrey and Ellie were in the hospital the doctors told us that if they lived we probably wouldn't be able to see just how badly their brains were damaged until they were about four months old. At that time we would begin to see Cerebral Palsy setting in and to what severity. I can't look at Colton at four months of age without wondering about my girls at four months of age.

Colt is so healthy. He reaches out for things and constantly puts his hands in his mouth. He grabs my hair and my shirt collar. He makes eye contact. He laughs and coos. He kicks his feet and bounces like a madman in his jumperoo. He does all the things a perfectly developing baby should do. But I know my girls wouldn't have. And that makes me sad.

It probably seems ridiculous to wonder about or feel pain over something that never was nor will be. I'm not sure why I even think about it to be honest. But I do and it bothers me.

Any advice out there for me? What should I do with these feelings? I get so sad knowing my girls got so sick. Sometimes it hurts me even more than the pain of their deaths. Am I normal? Do any of you struggle like me?

Catching Up

2010-11-15T22:39:00.000-08:00

I am sorry I have not posted in a while. I have not only been busy, but every time I try to create an inspiring and thoughtful post I get writer's block...

The words just won't come out!

So I thought that maybe a simple let me catch you up on all that is going on post might suffice for now and at least let you know that I have not forgotten about you. My blog family is very important to me.

So, where do I even begin?

My tea company TEAMOTIONS is gaining momentum and requiring more and more attention daily. We are still finalizing our new label design (wait until you see it, it is SO amazing) while simultaneously putting the tea on the market. We are at our first retail outlet: The Babies by the Sea Boutique in Cardiff. Get our tea in their store or on their website. Teamotions teas make great gifts under $20 hint hint. Did I tell you that our blend ENJOY REST (Cinnamon Apple Chamomile Tea for Rest and Rejuvenation) won first place at the North American Tea Competition? Well it did and we are quite proud. Makes you want to try it doesn't it?

My new little guy is four months old already. I can't believe it. He is adorably chubby and has the sweetest toothless smile. I adore him.

As much as I hate to admit it though I am still adjusting to life with a baby. I expected it to come more easily this time since he is not my first, but alas I find myself flying by the seat of my pants daily, trying to balance my roles as mom, wife, entrepreneur, and athlete (or so I'd like to think). Believe it or not I plan to run a marathon in 2011 and I am determined to complete the entire P90X program no matter how many times I have to do it. I will let you know how it goes. So far not so good! Sheesh.

My biggest struggle lately is that I feel I always come up short. At the end of each day there always seems to be more left to do than got done and I never spend as much quality time with my children as I would like to. I am a mom full-time and squeeze in time for everything else as best I can...and some days go better than others.

Colt still hasn't worked out the whole sleep thing yet either so naps are sketchy, often only 45 minutes each, and nights vary. Most of the time I get up three or four times a night and our morning starts between 5am and 6am. I am tired to say the least. Sleep deprivation never helps anything.

Do you ever have those days that although you LOVE your kids more than life itself you don't necessarily love being a mom? Honestly, most days I do love being a mom. I love hitting the ground running every morning making sure teeth are brushed and food stays in the kitchen and the dog isn't chewing all the socks in the house. I love the funny things that come out of my older son's mouth and the cute smiles on my new little one's face. I love preparing snacks, reading books, and practicing our letters in our kindergarten book while simultaneously nursing, burping, or changing the baby. I am a fanatical multi-tasker!

But sometimes I have those days.

Like last week Dustin woke up in the middle of the night with a blazing pink eye infection. But he didn't just wake up, he screamed bloody murder because his eyes were crusted shut. My husband did the honors of ungluing Dustins' eyelids so to speak because I was squeezing in a few more moments of sleep because I was up four times with the baby already. The next morning I managed to get a same day doctor's appointment which sent us scrambling to make it on time at the last minute. I nursed and dressed the baby in what I thought was plenty of time, only to have him spit up all over himself just minutes before we had to leave. He got a new outfit and so did I. Somehow we made it to the doctor's on time but it wasn't without 29 hurry-ups and lets-gos from me. Not to mention all the hand sanitizing because Dustin couldn't NOT touch is crusty infected eyes and I didn't want the baby to get pink eye too. After the doctor I had to stop at the grocery store because there was no food in the house and Colt wouldn't stop fussing so I had to carry him up high on my shoulder the entire time. We got home just in time for me to put Colt down for a nap and jump on a very important tea company related video conference call only to have Colt wake up right when I logged on. I spent the whole call bouncing him to keep him quiet and he spit up all over me twice. When the call ended I collected my children in the car so that we could pick up Dustin's prescription eye drops only to arrive at the pharmacy when the pharmacist was on his lunch break. It as 4pm. Anyway, I had to pace around with a fussy baby and a four year old asking "what is this? what is that? why? can I have that?" for 20 minutes before the pharmacist returned and could give me Dustin's medicine. When we got home I put Colt down for another nap only to have him wake up half an hour later. He didn't take a nap longer than 45 minutes all day today (all week too) and I cooked dinner while holding him. Somehow I got dinner done, fed my other child, and nursed Colt while I shoving three bites of food into my own mouth. I got Colt down for the night and then put Dustin to bed, but not before the eye drop mega-drama because, well, even though Dustin knows exactly what the eye drops feel like he has to freak out every single time anyway. You'd think I was gouging his eyes out instead of just putting drops in them. By the time my husband got home at 10pm that night I was spent. I managed to get Colt down for the night just before 7pm but he was already wake again before 10pm. It was another rough night and I was up every two hours with him until 6am. Sigh.

You would think that these words could never come out of the mouth of a mother who has lost babies. How could I ever complain? Shouldn't I be thankful? Don't I know better than most what a blessing children are and just how bad things can get?

Of course I do. I'd give up sleep for the rest of my life to have my daughters back. But my daughters' deaths do not remove the reality that motherhood is hard work and, at times, completely overwhelming. I guess today I feel particularly overwhelmed.

My house looks like something exploded in it. The laundry is piled high (and I do laundry EVERY DAY). I didn't get a shower. And I have no idea if tomorrow will be any easier.

And don't forget the grief. I am still grieving. I miss my girls everyday and I can't seem to look at my little guy and not wonder about Aubrey and Ellie. I don't spend hours crying like I used to and I feel more joy in my life with each passing day, but there are still daily moments when I imagine life with them here and feel the sting of their absence yet again.

So what can I draw from these difficult times? Is this a lesson in patience? Endurance? Faith? Life?

How about priorities?

Whoever said you can have it all lied. Life is about priorities.

I may not be able to have it all but I can have the most important thing: perspective.

God will get me through this day just as he got me through the ones before it. And He cares about my troubles even if they are less troublesome than they could be. The most important thing I can do on a day like today is keep first things first. In the end it doesn't matter if my house is clean or my hair is washed.

As long as Christ is glorified despite it all the hard things may not get easier but they gain a glorious new purpose that brings with it a renewed motivation to be faithful through whatever season we are in.

What are your priorities?

Little Feet

2010-09-14T21:25:00.000-07:00

My sister-in-law took pictures for me of all the keepsakes I have of Aubrey and Ellie. I will post them all later, but tonight I wanted to post just this one. These are Ellie's hands and feet cast in plaster. I don't have one for Aubrey because she died in a different hospital. My amazing social worker Maria did this for us after Ellie passed away. I treasure these little precious gifts and when I saw this picture tonight I lost it. I miss my girls. After more than two years I still feel like it just happened. Those little hands and feet belonged to my baby, I touched them myself, and I'd give anything to touch them one more time.

Beautiful Tea

2010-09-14T15:03:00.000-07:00

As many of you know my sister and I have started a tea company called Teamotions. It is my way to honor the memory of my girls. We created 6 different teas blended with herbs that have emotional well-being properties. The tea is delicious and a perfect way to inspire healing. One of our blends-Tea Restfully-an apple cinnamon chamomile tea for rest and rejuvenation won FIRST PLACE at the North American Tea Championship!

I just wanted to let you all know that we will be taking down our website temporarily on September 20th so if you want to place an order, you must do so NOW. After that only pre-orders will be accepted until January when we will fill all those orders with our NEW PACKAGING. Also, after September 20th, the sachet sampler pack will no longer be available.

Teamotions is currently undergoing a makeover. The names of the teas will be changing, as well as the packaging, and we are building a beautiful, professional website...but the tea inside the packaging will remain the same. Now is your chance to try our tea before it is "officially" launched to the public. This is an exclusive invitation of sorts. And everyone who has placed an order before September 20th will receive a special "thank you for supporting us from the beginning" gift in January after we go public.

Go to http://www.teamotionstea.com/ to order.

New Post on Perseverance Blog

2010-09-11T18:32:00.000-07:00

Perserverance Project #3 is here. Check my other blog for the details. The link is under the scripture in the upper left hand corner. Will you join me? I hope so!

Still Holding My Breath

2010-09-10T20:29:00.000-07:00

*******UPDATE*******

I just wanted to say thank you for the wonderful advice you have sent me already. There seems to be a theme among your words: Take every thought captive. Thank you for not only reminding me of the importance of this but that I am not the only one who struggles in this way. And thank you for pointing me back toward my Jesus, my comforter and the true source of my joy.

************************************

I was just in tears a moment ago trying to express to my husband that I've been struggling lately. I hesitate to talk openly about this because I don't fully trust my emotions right now. I just had a baby and I am more than sleep deprived so tears come easily these days. I am sure many of you can relate. But this is different. I think my struggle is real. I am not just tired and hormonal. I'm, well, I think I'm scared.

I have come to the realization that I am still holding my breath.

Since Colton was born I've experienced a revival almost. The joy that accompanied his birth breathed life back into me. He is so precious and small and cute. He has the fattest little cheeks that puddle on his shoulders. This week he smiled a real smile for the first time and I felt my heart melt. I just love those little magical moments.

But I find myself not enjoying them like I should.

Recently I spent three days in the hospital with Colt. He woke up with a rash of blisters on his cheek and a swollen eye so I took him to his pediatrician to make sure he was okay. He was only four weeks old so I was wanted to err on the side of caution. But what I thought would be a quick appointment ending with a prescription for some topical ointment of some kind became three miserable days in Children's Hospital testing Colt for HSV.

It was not fun at all. Herpes in infants can be life threatening so we had to do the tests for Colt's protection which included tapping his spinal fluid (twice because the first time was unsuccessful) to test for the virus and starting him on an antiviral that is given through an IV, an IV that took five attempts to finally get, in a vein in his foot that failed within 12 hours. Did I mention that the medication takes an hour to administer (every eight hours) and it hurts as it goes in? My poor little guy was not a happy camper and neither was I.

In the end it turned out not to be HSV praise the Lord. We never did find out exactly what caused the rash of blisters on his face. They sent us home with a clean bill of health. We were exhausted but relieved and Colt seemed no worse for the wear. Babies are amazingly resilient.

I, on the other hand, am less so. For days I watched him like a hawk in case the rash showed up again or he exhibited signs of illness. It took a while for my anxiety to lessen and when the fog finally cleared I realized something...

Since the moment I got pregnant with Colton I have been waiting for the other shoe to drop. I held my breath through the entire pregnancy praying nothing bad would happen but bracing myself for the worst. I thought that when he was born I would be able to breath again. But I still couldn't.

I was scared those three days in the hospital most definitely, but what I realized is that I am scared pretty much all the time. I don't walk around freaking out, but inside I am bracing myself for the impending tragedy, whatever it is.

I have never struggled like this before. I have never been a paranoid or fearful person. I don't know what to do with these feelings. Especially when I know they are robbing me of my joy with my son.

I need advice.

I know how fast the time goes. This season with Colt is going to be over before I know it and I don't want to miss is, I really don't. I want to soak it in and enjoy it without fear and anxiety. I want to be in spit-up covered bliss (my little guy spits up SO MUCH-any advice how to help him spit up less in frequency and quantity?). I want to look back on this time and know that I was fully present. Loving Colt is easy. He is irresistible. But loving him freely without the baggage is turning out to be a real challenge for me.

How do I do it?

Share your wisdom with me please. Feel free to leave advice as a comment. I'll take it to heart.

Some Photos

2010-08-29T21:20:00.000-07:00

There are more pictures on the link I included in the previous post but these are so cute I couldn't resist posting them here now. Enjoy!

Colton wide awake-1 week old

Big brother Dustin

Dustin holding Colt

Something To See

2010-08-29T20:53:00.000-07:00

I have an amazing sister-in-law who also happens to be quite talented. She is a photographer among other wonderful things and below are two links to her blog where she posts her photos and poems and other lovely things.

In 2009 she created this post in memory of Aubrey and Ellie. Check it out...you will be touched I promise. http://e3photography.blogspot.com/2009/06/twins-set.html

Lastly, she recently took some amazing photos of my boys. Take a look! They are the cutest!http://ethreeit.blogspot.com/2010/08/baby-its-been-while.html

Enjoy...I will return to blog land soon. I am still adjusting to life with a newborn.

Joy Came Alone

2010-08-09T18:20:00.000-07:00

This is the third time in the last two weeks that I have sat in front of my computer trying to put into words what I have been feeling since Colton was born. I type and erase and type again, but my words are not coming out right. I can't seem to get them to convey the true depth and intensity of how I feel.

I had this same struggle after Aubrey and Ellie died, but instead of insufficiently expressing the magnitude of my joy, at that time I struggled to convey the depth of my pain. Words, no matter how descriptive, can never quite capture the reality of grief...at the end of the day I had to sit with my sorrow and feel it by myself.

Grief is lonely.

But joy is not.

I can't sufficiently express how worried I was that Colton's arrival would be more bitter than sweet, that he would stir up memories of Aubrey and Ellie that would sting my still healing heart. I didn't know what to expect and braced myself for the worst.

But the worst never came.

Joy came.

For two years I cried every single day. Tears had become part of my personality, part of my existence. Even the best day could not eliminate a moment or two that would remind me that my girls are not with me. I have not stopped missing my girls for even a second. And my heartache more often than not manifested itself with tears. Sad, sorrowful tears.

Just before Colt was born I read an amazing blog post by a wonderful friend of mine. Her name is Jen and she had to say goodbye to her sweet Lydia a few months ago. In the midst of her grief she has amazing insight. I am moved by her writing constantly. (For some back story on the scripture passage go to Jen's blog and read her post.) She wrote about Ezra 3:11-13:

They sang, praising and giving thanks to the LORD saying, “For He is good, for His lovingkindness is upon Israel forever.” And all the people shouted with a great shout when they praised the LORD because the foundation of the house of the LORD was laid. Yet many of the priests and Levites and heads of fathers’ households, the old men who had seen the first temple, wept with a loud voice when the foundation of this house was laid before their eyes, while many shouted aloud for joy, so that the people could not distinguish the sound of joy from the sound of the weeping of the people, for the people shouted with a loud shout, and the sound was heard far away.

I resonated profoundly with the words in these scriptures. I felt that my heart was crying out to the Lord also, and my weeping could not be distinguished from my joy. I felt that the rest of my life would always be sadness mixed with happiness. Sorrow mixed with joy. Grief mixed with hope. I'd never feel anything good again without a twinge of heartache to accompany it.

But it was not to be so.

Healing after loss is not only a process, it is a miracle. It takes more than just perseverance, it takes Jesus. Never underestimate the power of God to heal the unhealable, to mend what should otherwise never be fixed, to provide relief where only pain should be.

When Colton was born and I saw his smooshed face appear over the top of that sheet in the operating room something miraculous happened.

I felt joy. Not joy and pain. Just joy. Pure, perfect, amazing joy.

And the tears that fell from my eyes were not bittersweet. Without question they were tears of joy, tears of relief, and tears of humility as I realized that pain was not there to accompany my joy.

In that moment joy came alone.

I wish I could say that I have been relieved of my grief since that moment, but that would be a lie. I have had bittersweet moments and flat out sad moments since then. But I have also had moments of joy alone. Something I truly thought could never happen.

Colt is two and a half weeks old now and a daily reminder of God's compassion in my life. Colt is a miracle in so many ways. And he has taught me so much already. I have experienced through his birth a level of healing I thought impossible.

Often times, after loss, grief and joy accompany each other, but sometimes, at just the right time, joy comes alone.

More Pictures!

2010-07-30T11:34:00.000-07:00

Here are a few more pictures of Colton's birth and a few more of him looking adorable!

I do have a "real" post I want to share, something from the heart...and I will when I get a spare moment, I promise. My time is occupied these days, delightfully so.

And as the finale...the picture below is of Dustin when he was one week old. I think I see a resemblance. My husband and I make beautiful babies if I do say so myself!

Baby Pictures

2010-07-26T21:22:00.000-07:00

So, okay, I understand that all mothers think their baby is the cutest, but honestly people, is he not the CUTEST baby you have ever seen?

Well, I sure do!

Thank you for all your prayers. Colton did have to stay the night in the NICU but he improved beautifully and is now perfectly healthy. We are all home resting and soaking in our new blessing. We are smitten!

Here are a few pictures to tide you over until I can post more later. I want you all to experience the full spectrum of his cuteness. And, of course, I want to share with you all that is overflowing from my heart. GOD IS SO GOOD!

Stay tuned...more to come!

Colton James is here!

2010-07-23T21:49:00.000-07:00

Colton James Crawford entered the world at 3:46pm weighing 7lbs 3 ounces and measuring 19.5 inches long. He is beautiful. Wavy auburn hair and rosy cheeks!

However, he had to be taken to the NICU so I would appreciate your prayers. He is fine, he was just having a hard time getting the fluids out of his lungs and keeping his oxygen saturation up on his own. He has already improved in the last five hours but they are still observing him.

Pray that he gets better and can be in my arms as soon as possible. I only got to hold him for a minute and am DYING to get my arms around him.

Thank you for loving my family. Your prayers are felt and truly appreciated.

C-section date changed

2010-07-20T19:25:00.000-07:00

Just an FYI for all my blogger friends who are anticipating the arrival of my little Colton James...my c-section date has been moved up a week. Don't worry, nothing is wrong. I just have a surgeon and a doctor with differing opinions on when this baby should be born.

Navigating the complexities of this pregnancy has been exhausting to say the least. The differing points of view between doctors are extreme and hospitals have policies that not all doctors necessarily agree with but have to abide by. So my options are limited in some respects despite my difference of opinion.

I will admit that I am a little frustrated. I was really hoping for a greater opportunity to go into labor and have this baby the good old fashioned way. But my desire for a natural birth has been controversial from day one.

My ultimate goal has always been Colton's health and welfare. I fought hard to make sure he went full term and wasn't poked and prodded unnecessarily along the way. I have been able to accomplish that. So far my pregnancy has been intervention free. He is camping out in my belly growing fatter by the day.

In a perfect world he would get to have the medication free all natural birth I hoped for him, but unfortunately we don't live in a perfect world, something many of us are all too familiar with. So I have come to terms with this "compromise" because ultimately it puts a healthy baby in my arms and, lets be honest, that is the most important thing at the end of the day.

Sometimes my idealism has to be tempered with reality. But it still doesn't stop me from trying my hardest.

So unless I go into labor in the next three days I will have a c-section on Friday, July 23, at 38 weeks exactly. By 3pm I will be holding my little guy in my arms. I am pretty excited about that.

Any Day Now!

2010-07-18T13:06:00.000-07:00

This baby could be born any day. And honestly I can barely stand the anticipation. I want to meet him NOW! Not to mention that I feel like I am about to burst. Got to love those last few weeks of frustrating discomfort. And it is 100 degrees here in Escondido. However, I find all the aches and pains beautifully reassuring. Every kick to the ribs and (almost but not quite painful) braxton-hicks contraction reminds me that a healthy FULL TERM baby boy is on the way.

Pain is a privilege although we often don't see it that way, the pain of childbirth included.

Speaking of which, let me update you all on my current birthing plan.

But before I do let me clarify that my intention is not to stir up controversy or open myself up to critique. My husband and I came to these decisions together through research, prayer, and more research and more prayer.

I also have a great doctor now. It took me 35 weeks to find him but I did and couldn't be happier. I did not feel safe in the hands of my other doctors so it feels good to now have a doctor I trust and respect.

I also feel that it is important to talk about these things though because I am clearly choosing the path less traveled in my situation and this information may be helpful to someone out there searching for answers like I was. I hope it is.

Let me give you the run down...

Natural birth is very important to me. I believe strongly that the birth process is misunderstood and feared unnecessarily in our culture and it need not be. However, that is not to say that it should be taken lightly and not approached seriously. Being informed is extremely important. The tricky part is getting true information. And if you know me at all you know how I seek TRUTH relentlessly, truth in all areas of my life, including the truth about the real risks involved with this pregnancy.

My first son was a natural birth. A full-term worth every second of pain beautiful natural birth. But Aubrey and Ellie were born by emergency classical c-section (as opposed to the more common transverse c-section). It was the best decision at the time and I don't regret it. My daughters' lives were on the line and I did what I had to do.

However, when I got pregnant with this baby I was told that having a previous classical c-section introduced greater risks to this pregnancy and that a vaginal delivery was out of the question. If I did manage to avoid preterm labor I would not be allowed to carry any longer than 37 weeks AT MOST and would require an amnio at 36 weeks in order to schedule a c-section as soon as possible. I was even told that they would deliver my son even if his lungs were not ready for fear I would rupture in the interim. The didn't want me to go into labor at all. They also strongly insisted on progesterone injections.

It seemed my hope of an intervention free pregnancy was an impossibility.

I went straight home and began researching what the doctors had told me. Although none of it "felt" right to me at all, I am not a doctor and needed to do research and get a second opinion before I accepted or rejected this course of action.

I felt so torn because I did not want to do anything that would put my baby or myself at risk. I have lived through losing two babies and was incapable of being flippant about the real risks of pregnancy and childbirth. But I also didn't want to make fear based decisions. I didn't want this baby to be robbed of his time in the womb or of a birth if it really wasn't necessary.

Somehow I had to sort all this out.

Not to mention I couldn't shake the feeling that my doctors were imposing on me "policies" that were in place more for their protection than for mine. A scheduled c-section would control a lot of variables and at the end of the day put a healthy baby in my arms most likely...which I understood. But was it truly what was best? It has risks too as does progesterone injections, amnios, and delivering a baby at 36 weeks.

I couldn't get rid of the nagging voice in my heart that kept asking me if this was truly the best course of action or just the most acceptable? I felt like I was settling out of fear instead of striving for the best for my son...although I wasn't sure exactly what that was. I was not about to put him at risk of injury or death to prove a point, but I also did not feel comfortable with what was being told to me. And I was not sure what to do...

One thing I was certain of though is that I am not a defective pregnant time bomb. I was not going to let the current medical establishment treat me that way. Just because I had a "history" of preterm labor that caused the deaths of my daughters did not mean that I was a ruined womb only capable of being salvaged my the miracle of modern medicine and all its interventions.

God makes babies. God grows them. And He determines all the days of their lives.

Don't get me wrong, I am thankful for what modern medicine has to offer. I am not anti-medical intervention. Not at all. All I am saying is we can't lose sight of who is really in control of all of this...our bodies, our wombs, our babies, our lives. He is the Great Physician and we should consult Him first, seek direction and guidance from Him, and listen to His voice, as we navigate these things.

It is so easy to feel broken and wrecked, especially when a doctor is telling you how damaged you are. I know many of you have struggled with this too. Maybe you have never been able to get pregnant or you have had multiple miscarriages or chronic pre-term labor? Maybe your child was born with a genetic disorder? And it is so hard not to feel defective. Especially when doctors are reinforcing that to us with statistics and scientific evidence...but it isn't true.

What is true is that we are all ruined and broken and always have been but Christ redeemed us and all good things come from Him. We are just as He made us to be and He is glorified in our weaknesses and insufficiencies even more so than in our strengths and abilities.

We cannot and should not take the credit nor give it to our bodies for the maternal successes we have had. Just like God gave Sarah and Abraham a baby when she was past her ability to even conceive, He does these miracles in us...the babies we have and don't have are ultimately up to Him and not even the best doctor can guarantee us anything. Not that God doesn't use doctors and medicine, not that we shouldn't be sensible and responsible...but living in fear and simply trying to eliminate as much risk as possible is an illusion anyway. Our trust cannot be in men, but in Christ alone. Not to mention there is a difference between real risk and perceived risk and we NEED the Holy Spirit to help us know which is which.

Sometimes we need to be brave, to be strong, to walk off the beaten path when we are called there by Him...

I was feeling nudged. So I kept reading and researching. I changed my insurance so that I could have consultations with other doctors for second opinions. I got my hands on any and all information available to me. And I prayed. A lot! I asked others to pray for me too. I asked God to lead the way. I asked Him to help me know what the right thing for this baby really is.

To make a long story short this is what my husband and I have decided to do: I declined the progesterone injections. I also declined the amino and refused to allow my son to be born prematurely. My research showed that not only are amnios unreliable and have risks but my risk of rupture simply carrying my son was extremely low and that going full-term did not put my unborn son nor myself in nearly as much danger as my (previous) doctors had implied. It was clearly in my son's best interest to leave him alone and let him mature in my belly for as long as possible.

We did set a c-section date at 39 weeks, however if I go into labor on my own before 39 weeks I will attempt a trial of labor to have this baby vaginally. The risk of rupture after a classical c-section is way lower than you might think, although higher than a transverse incision. Surprisingly, a woman has a greater chance of rupture by receiving prostaglandins during labor and other induction/augmenting drugs during labor (even with no previous c-section) than I do after a classical c-section. So that is the kicker though, I have to go all natural! I feel confident I can however as I have done it once before. If not, off to a c-section I go.

In a perfect world I would not have scheduled a c-section at all, but my husband has some reservations so that was our compromise. I get a shot at a vaginal delivery but only to a certain point. And he feels better knowing that we have a multi-outcome plan. I feel very settled about the whole thing.

Most importantly I feel like I am doing what is best for my baby. I feel like I had to protect him from both the risks of a previous classical c-section and unnecessary medical interventions and find some sort of middle ground for his sake. I want him not only to live but to thrive as I am sure all mothers do.

I will keep you posted as to the outcome of all of this. Please keep us in your prayers. My c-section date is July 30th so we know he will at least come into the world by then if not earlier God willing!

Aubrey

2010-07-07T20:44:00.000-07:00

Two years ago today I said goodbye to my Aubrey Elizabeth. I held her and looked steadily into those gray-blue eyes knowing she was slipping away from me.

So I had let her go...

I miss you sweet girl. You are never far from my thoughts.

My Ellie

2010-07-01T10:12:00.000-07:00

Today is the two year anniversary of Ellie's passing. I remember it vividly and I am choosing to keep those memories to myself today. I would appreciate prayers as today is hard for me.

I miss you sweet girl.

Happy 2nd Birthday Aubrey and Ellie!

2010-06-24T15:55:00.000-07:00

I can't believe it has been two years.

I woke up this morning and I could feel it. That ache in my heart. That strange sensation of something missing in my life that should be there but isn't.

It feels like yesterday, not two years ago, that I saw those tiny little faces for the first time. Even time itself has been some how altered by Aubrey and Ellie's deaths. One minute time is flying by, the next it is standing still. I am still getting used to it.

I am still getting used to a lot of things.

Dustin and I took flowers to the cemetery today to honor them and let them know we are celebrating two very special birthdays. (I have pictures I will post later. I left the wire that connects my camera to my computer at my sister's house so when I get it back I will post the lovely photos immediately). As I sat there arranging the flowers just right I thought about how much has changed in two years.

And how some things haven't changed at all.

I still desperately miss my babies. That has not changed. And I don't think it ever will.

But I feel differently in other ways.

When Aubrey and Ellie died I felt mostly disappointment. For a long time I just couldn't shake feeling horribly let down. I felt let down by my own body, by God, by doctors, by life in general. The disappointment was so heavy it took almost a year and a half to finally lift. I still feel disappointed about certain things and in certain ways, but not like I did two years ago. It is not as consuming as it once was.

Slowly though my disappointment gave way to helplessness and I felt deeply overwhelmed by fear. I braced myself for what tragic, terrible thing would happen next, convinced my life was on a crash course with disaster. Thankfully I did not get stuck there long though. Living in fear was worse than living with disappointment and I fought hard to find freedom from it. I was tired of regressing in my healing and called out to God for help. When I feel the fear creeping in again I remember 1 John 4:18. There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear... I often forget to accept God's perfect love. But I am working on it. And He is working on me.

Yet, even two years later, I am still a work in progress. Grief and all its emotions don't just suddenly vanish. It is a constant ebb and flow of triumphs and losses. There has been real healing in my heart in some ways yet some wounds remain gaping.

Lately it is loneliness that I struggle with most.

Grief is isolating yes, but that is not the loneliness I am talking about. Sure I struggle with feeling alone in my pain and alone on this journey. It isn't always comforting to know that the Jesus I love is walking with me when He isn't there the way I wish He could be there. He is there just as His Word promises and He is so gracious to me as I struggle with my humanness. But sometimes I just need something tangible and I get weary in my faith. I mean for goodness sake, sometimes I just need a hug. And I don't think that is asking too much.

But what has been bothering me even more is that my arms are empty. Where are my babies to hold? To kiss? To snuggle? I deeply miss the real, tangible things that disappeared when Aubrey and Ellie died. I never will squeeze their fat little legs or wipe their dimpled little bottoms. I will never hear first words or see first steps. I am learning that I love the hands-on part of being a mother. Even the mundane daily things. And the quietness of my house and my life gets to me.

I'm just not sure how to fill this void. And like I said before, the intangible comfort of my Jesus doesn't always do it...not because He is not enough, but because I can't seem to stop being imperfect in my pain. I just need something to hold sometimes. Something made of flesh and blood. Something real.

I got out of bed today and took my time starting the day. I stood in the shower an extra long time feeling particularly empty inside. I left the house for a mocha (for me) and flowers (for my baby girls) thinking about very little else. I didn't talk much in the car ride to the cemetery. I guess I wasn't in the talking mood so my son, who is always in the talking mood, did most of the talking.

"Why are we going to the cemetery again mom?" He asked, even though I had told him ten times already why.

"To see Aubrey and Ellie." I emphasised, "It is their birthday remember?"

"But they are not even there you silly." He replied.

I sat there feeling his words. I had been feeling them since I woke up but just didn't know it until then. They are not here. And that is what hurts. I know where they are, I know they couldn't be in a better place, but I still have to cope daily with the unchangeable fact they are not here.

And I am lonely without them.

In the quietness of the cemetery the cool breeze blew just as it did the day of their funeral. The sun was directly behind me and cast my shadow across the face of their headstone. In my silhouette I could see my big baby belly fall right on their names. I introduced Colt to his sisters and started to cry. I am only weeks away from holding and snuggling and kissing a very tangible Colton James. And although I am thrilled beyond words to meet my new little man, he is an answer to prayer and a gift beyond measure, I can't help but anticipate the sting that will also come with his arrival.

All the joy he will bring will bittersweetly remind me of all I missed when Aubrey and Ellie died.
I will be flooded with emotions no doubt, and I admit I am a little nervous. I am not exactly sure how I will respond to all that I feel in that moment. I am still healing and very raw. And there is still an empty place in my heart for my girls.

But at least I know one thing for certain. My heart may still have an empty place, but my arms will be full again.

And I can barely wait for that very tangible moment.

Happy Birthday Aubrey and Ellie. You are dearly loved and missed. Until we meet again sweet babies... Love Mom, Dad, Dustin and baby Colt.

Prayer Need Update

2010-06-22T19:21:00.000-07:00

Thank you to all of you who prayed. I have good news. My cousin and baby are doing well. Little Alex Michael was born at 2.2 pounds at almost 28 weeks and is doing great. He is breathing on his own without a ventilator and even crying. Your continued prayers would be appreciated as he is still very premature and will continue to spend time in the NICU.

Need Prayer

2010-06-21T12:11:00.000-07:00

I need to ask you all to pray for my cousin. Her name is Stacia and she lives in NY. This morning she had an emergency c-section to deliver her son at 27 weeks. Mom and baby are both in the hospital. They need our prayers. Many of us know what they are up against first hand. Please ask God to cover them and I will keep you updated as I learn more news.

More to come...

Announcing Teamotions-Aubrey and Ellie's Legacy

2010-06-04T19:08:00.000-07:00

Those of you who have followed my journey here for the last two years know my story. But for those of you discovering it for the first time, let me welcome you and introduce you to my identical twin daughters Aubrey Elizabeth and Ellie Alexandra.

They were born on June 24th, 2008 at 24 weeks and 4 days gestation, three and a half months premature. We did all we could for them, but after seven days with Ellie and thirteen days with Aubrey, I had to do what no mother ever wants to do and let my little girls go.

I honestly didn't know how life would ever be ok again. I didn't know how I would ever be ok again. I was truly devastated.

In the days, weeks, and months after Aubrey and Ellie's deaths I drank a lot of tea. Green Jasmine was by far my favorite. To this day I can't smell the scent of jasmine and not think of all the hours I sat, tears streaming down my face, holding a cup of tea in my hand doing what I could to get through the saddest time of my life one minute at a time. Those cups of tea were often the only soothing moments of my day.

Little did I know that those cups of tea would soon inspire my daughters' legacy.

Grieving is a long and complex process. I honestly had no idea what I was in for. But I was determined to make it to the other side some how. I wanted my girls' lives to mean more to me than pain and sadness. I wanted to heal for them. I quickly realized that I needed a plan. Healing would not just happen by accident or when enough time had passed, it was something I would have to choose daily and fight for.

I started running, I attended a griefshare support group, I sought professional grief counseling, I made sure to eat healthily and get enough rest, I leaned heavily on my faith, and I started my blog Waiting for Morning. I had good days and bad days. I took steps forward and I took steps back. And I drank many cups of tea.

And when I got tired I poured myself a cup of tea to recharge with. When I felt overwhelmed I poured another cup of tea. When I needed time out to just sit and remember my girls with tears and smiles I poured yet another cup of tea. I started my day with a cup of tea and soothed myself to sleep with one.

Tea was becoming an integral part of my healing journey. Tea was truly helping me make it through.

Then one day my sister Crystal made a comment to me that she wishes there was something she could put in my tea to make me feel better. Knowing that nothing like that existed I decided then and there to create it. And in an instant TEAMOTIONS was born.

My sister and I joined forces to create a line of teas specifically for emotional wellbeing. Each tea contains a unique blend of herbs and botanicals that foster and support emotional health and healing.

After a year of really hard work we are proud to announce the launch of our (temporary) website www.teamotionstea.com. Official website coming soon!

I don't understand why my girls had to die. But I do know that the God whom I trust in will bring good out of such tragedy. And our tea just might be part of that good. I sure hope so.

Honestly, I just want to help. We created TEAMOTIONS teas with you in mind, so that whatever you are going through you don't have to feel alone in it. We are here to support you as you strive for emotional health and healing.

I would love to hear what you think.

One of Those Days

2010-06-02T07:57:00.000-07:00

Do you ever have one of those days where you wish you could throw every breakable thing you own against the wall as hard as you can?

Or take a baseball bat to every mirror and window in your house?

Or just punch something until you can't lift your arm anymore?

I do. I am.

I am having one of those days today.

And it isn't because I am angry. Well, it is a little bit because I am angry. But I am angry because I feel powerless.

Powerlessness is an overwhelming reality that will take you straight by the throat and squeeze the life right out of you.

I woke up at 4am this morning and looked around my dark bedroom with that horrible how did I get this life? feeling. I have had this conversation with myself MANY times before. I tell myself to calm down, to accept my life, and to remember the good that is in it and not dwell on only the bad. But some days I feel so overwhelmed by how difficult and sad my life is I feel like I literally talk myself back from the edge...

Some mornings I just want to jump.

Jump into a different life, the one way easier than the one I currently live, the one with Aubrey and Ellie in it, alive and well.

Jump into a different relationship because, after all, a better husband would solve all my problems right?

Jump in the car and drive I don't even know where, just somewhere else, and maybe never come back.

Jump into blame and resentment, into despair, into self pity, for the hand I have been dealt.

Jump into powerlessness, refusing to even try anymore to push through, because, well, it is just too hard. Too hard to persevere, too hard to hurt all the time, and too hard to keep reminding myself day after day that it isn't really that bad because some days it IS really that bad. And honestly, I am flat out exhausted.

This blog post is my attempt to force some perspective on myself since I am having one of those days. I am talking myself back from the edge yet again, this time publicly and tangibly.

Life can be so hard. You all know what I am talking about. We all have our different hardships. And mine are not limited just to losing my girls. I am battling here and have been for a very long time, refusing to give up, refusing to give in, refusing to accept defeat...and I get tired. Really tired. It sometimes feels like it would be so much easier to just throw my hands up and scream how unfair it all is and just wallow in the relentless difficulties of my life.

BUT...

I don't think that would really help anything. And it wouldn't be easier. I would simply be trading one misery for another. I would be giving up.

Remember how I talked before about how pain tells lies?

Well, here is the truth despite the pain: There is no life, no situation, no circumstance, no pain, no tragedy, no marriage, no decision, NO ANYTHING outside of God's restoration power. Life can and will push us to the edge, but it is the gentle wooing of the Holy Spirit that entices us back again. On our own we are powerless and will be crushed under the weight of it all. But with Christ, all things are possible. He will carry us.

I guess complete exhaustion, the kind that literally goes to the soul, is sometimes what it takes to get us to be still and quiet long enough to realize that all this striving and battling and wrestling is not always what is best for us. Sometimes our greatest victory is in the surrender.

Therefore I do not run like a man running aimlessly; I do not fight like a man beating the air... 1 Cor 9:26 NIV

It is ok to rest. Just lay down. Stop beating the air. Find shelter from the difficulties of your life in Him. He wants you to.

You have been a refuge for the poor, a refuge for the needy in his distress, a shelter from the storm and a shade from the heat... Isaiah 25:4 NIV

It Is Well With My Soul

2010-05-14T14:04:00.000-07:00

Pain changes everything doesn't it.

The trials we face are often the ones we least expect. And they always hurt infinitely more than we ever imagined. I found myself blown away by the intensity of the pain of my daughters' deaths and even more surprised by my response to it.

I imagined myself coping so much better. I don't even know what that means exactly, but I do know that I didn't meet my own imagined expectations.

One month before Aubrey and Ellie were even born I attended a woman's retreat for a weekend. During that retreat I attended a short class about maintaining faith through trials. The speaker spoke of the death of her ten month old daughter and how she and her husband endured their grief with faith. Through their pain they triumphed in Christ. She was very real about her experience and very inspiring. I remember walking out of that class thinking to myself if I ever endure such hardship I hope I can do so with as much strength and faith as her.

Six weeks later I stood at the graveside of my daughters', broken and lost. I didn't feel strong at all. I felt hurt and scared and horribly disappointed. All my energy was being put toward simply waking up each morning. I wanted to persevere in theory, but in application I just didn't seem to have it in me. Real pain was more crippling than I ever imagined it and I couldn't seem to bridge the gab between my hypothetical expectations of myself through trials and suffering and the realistic ones. And for a while I lost my way.

I can only compare it to running on a wounded leg. Until you stand on a broken leg it is impossible to know how much it truly hurts, let alone have to run on that leg. It isn't like the movies where gritting your teeth and taking a deep breath gives you the pain tolerance you need to run. This was real life and real pain. And figuratively speaking I didn't have it in me to stand, much less run, in my brokenness.

I wanted to. But I couldn't. And I felt horribly guilty about that for a long time.

Perseverance seemed reserved for the stronger people. The ones who, when tested, ran on their broken leg regardless. Not the weak and overwhelmed like me.

Where was my strength, my unshakable faith, my relentless striving in the face of suffering and trials?

Losing my girls has not only been the most painful experience of my life, but it has been a giant magnifying glass on who I really am. My faith and character were exposed to the core. And it wasn't always pretty.

Even before losing my girls I have been extremely impressed with those who seem to be able to persevere through extraordinary pain and adversity. I am in awe of World War II vets who fought willingly for this country despite the hell they endured, especially those who reenlisted. I am blown away by athletes who put themselves through years of hard work and pain for the chance to compete in the Olympics or earn a championship. Some competing with injuries, in unimaginable pain, just to finish what they started. I marvel at people who have lost everything they love and find a way to continue on with meaning and purpose as an example to us all.

At my daughter's funeral we played the song "It Is Well With My Soul." My uncle played it for us on his saxophone. I don't know if you are familiar with that hymn and its history, but it was written by a man named Horatio Gates Spafford. His life was full of tragedy. First his only son died of Scarlett fever at the age of four, then he lost his entire fortune in the Great Chicago Fire, but ultimately it would be the death of his four daughters at sea that inspired the hymn. His wife and daughters were on a ship that sunk on its way to England and miraculously his wife was spared, but his girls were not. He immediately boarded a ship to join his bereaved wife in England and as he passed over the very spot where his daughters perished he penned the words to the hymn:

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

When my girls died I could not say it was well with my soul. It was a long time before I could see through the pain. And honestly I am still striving to get to that place of authentic soul wellness...but I'm trying.

But no longer am I relying on my own strength. It hurts to stand on a broken leg ourselves. But when someone carries us the pain significantly decreases. The healing process seems so much more manageable with help and proper care, and how blessed are we that we get PERFECT care from the God who created us and knows us best. He is, after all, Jehovah-Rapha, the Lord your healer.

Soul wellness is available to us all. If we are willing, God can do a work in us that, despite the circumstances of our lives and the pain those circumstances cause, we can still be well in our soul. We can be transformed from the inside. And we can see with new eyes.

I know how hard it is trying to embrace the healing God can offer. I know that nothing I do, not even my faith, can bring my girls back to me. And at times I wonder how my pain can ever end as long as they are not with me. It seems like a horrible contradiction.

But it isn't.

It is a miracle.

Without God there is no hope. And he is not asking us to forget or to stop feeling or to make our hurts small. He is simply asking us to trust him.

He is big enough that our pain doesn't have to shrink one molecule for him to overcome it and bring wellness to our soul. His grace is sufficient regardless of the size of our pain. He has the power and the willingness to fix whatever is ailing us. And not fix in the worldly sense either, but in his ability to supernaturally instill joy and peace in a heart that is broken. He can mend any injury, physical and emotional, and does so willingly and completely when we ask him to as many times as we require.

I will always miss my girls and hurt that they are not hear. I bear that burden because I love them. And I don't want God to take my love for them away. But I do need to experience the fullness of God's love in every way to get me through.

It will be well with my soul, not when the pain goes away, but when, despite the pain, I can rejoice in the goodness of my God.

...when sorrows like sea billows roll, whatever my lot you have taught me to say, it is well, it is well with my soul.

Adjustments

2010-05-08T07:17:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I was in Aubrey and Ellie's room digging picture frames out of the closet. Empty frames that I had collected and saved for them. I was going to put their pictures in those frames and hang them up in their room.

After they died I couldn't go in their room for a long time. And when I did I felt very uncomfortable. It felt so empty in there.

Their room never got to be used for its intended purpose so by default it became sort of a catch-all room. I put guests in there when they stay overnight and use the closet for extra storage. I have yet to set up the crib for the new baby.

I still call it Aubrey and Ellie's room.

It has been getting hot here and for the first time in a long time I put the air conditioner on to cool the house. When I opened the door to Aubrey and Ellie's room to look for those picture frames a blast of hot air hit me. I walked over to the air vent and stood on the glider to open it realizing that it was closed and cool air could not blow in.

As I stood there adjusting the vent I said to myself I don't want my little girls to burn up in here.

I stepped down and paused for a minute.

Aubrey and Ellie are gone, Rachel. This room is for the new baby now. You don't want the new baby to burn up in here. You are not bringing your girls home. You are bringing your son home.

I had to take a moment to get my head back on straight. I know that Aubrey and Ellie are gone but sometimes I think my heart cries out for them in unexpected ways. I know that this baby is not them nor will he ever fill the Aubrey and Ellie shaped hole in my heart, even when he does fill the empty nursery.

But I do feel a little crazy sometimes. I still wake up some mornings and listen for them. I still have to remind myself it all really happened. And I am not sure that will ever change. Some realities take a lifetime to truly accept I think.

A few days ago my husband asked me if it is going to be weird for me to have two children. We know the knew baby will be here very soon. It is amazing how pregnancy can feel like an eternity and a blink at the same time. I told him that it won't be weird to have two, but weird not to have three. And he responded "So it already has been weird not to have three you mean."

I shook my head yes.

There was never supposed to be just two. There was one, then three, and the new baby makes four. Having two boys will be amazing. I love my two and I am thankful for my two. But two girls will always be missing. And that seems to make even the most wonderful things a little bittersweet.

I am still getting the hang of being a baby lost mama. It is a lot more tricky than I ever imagined. I get frustrated constantly adjusting and readjusting, trying to get my heart and mind on the same page, and trying to feel like I am not crazy, just still hurting.

Aubrey and Ellie's room isn't going to be their room anymore very soon. And I am very sad about it. It isn't like we moved the twins to a big girl room to make space for the new baby. It is a very painful transition and although I can't wait to bring home the new baby, I feel like the moment I put him in his room I will grieve for my girls all over again. I want to welcome him home, but I don't want to have to say goodbye to my girls again.

Sometimes I just don't know how to take the next step.

Lydia Eileen

2010-04-30T16:42:00.001-07:00

For those of you who follow my blog and as a result follow the blog Lydia Eileen I wanted to ask for prayer for Jen and Micah as they had to say goodbye to their little girl on Wednesday morning.

Lydia went to be with Jesus peacefully and very much loved.

These moments have no words. Many of us know exactly what they are feeling however. Please cover them in your prayers.

Micah and Jen,

If you are reading this know that you are being upheld by the prayers of people all over the world who love you and your Lydia and were changed by her life. Also know that you are not alone although it may feel that way at times.

I pray that, somehow, in the midst of all your tears, you experience God's true comfort in unmistakable ways. I also pray that you get restful sleep and that people come out of the woodwork to help you by cleaning your house, cooking your meals, and giving you a break from the daily demands of life while you endure this season.

I am so sorry. I'd give her back if I could. My heart is broken for you. But I promise, it won't always hurt this much. Don't lose hope. God will continue the good work he began the moment Lydia was conceived. Her life was clearly invaluable. And not just to you but to countless others who you may never meet who are forever transformed because she lived. Her life lead all of us to the cross through your words on your blog and the faithfulness you have shown.

I will never forget her. I love you friends.

In Christ,
Rachel

So Blessed

2010-04-20T21:37:00.000-07:00

I am sitting here by myself. My husband is in the desert all week flying. It is just Dustin and me and the dog.

Its late. The house is quiet. I'm just winding down before bed. And my baby is kicking in my belly like crazy!

He relentlessly moves. Day and night! He never gives me a break. And he moves most when I am resting or trying to sleep. He certainly likes to remind me of his presence (as if I could forget).

But I love it.

Even when it keeps me up at night. And even when it annoys me. These moments are not to be taken for granted.

I am so blessed.

Especially given what today is.

I am so amazingly blessed.

24 Weeks 4 Days

2010-04-20T14:14:00.000-07:00

I am 24 weeks and 4 days pregnant today, Tuesday, April 20th, 2010.

Aubrey and Ellie were born at 24 weeks and 4 days also on a Tuesday. Tuesday, June 24th, 2008.

Today is a strange anniversary of sorts.

I have been counting down the days until today, holding my breath the entire time I think. Since I found out I was pregnant I have been hypersensitive to each day of this pregnancy, knowing too well that my new little guy needs more time, enough time.

24 weeks and 4 days just isn't enough.

Every night I prayed for enough time. Every night I prayed for more than 24 weeks and 4 days. Every night I prayed to get through today...

Today is a gift. As is every day after it. Every hour. Every minute. It is all one vital moment closer to enough time.

So why am I still holding my breath?

Today I woke up convinced it would be a turning point but it wasn't. I didn't feel better. Getting to today was not the magic cure all I hoped it would be. Honestly I have more anxiety than ever.

Why?

Because I don't just want one more day. I want ALL the days, every single day my baby needs to be healthy and safe and alive.

I want to bring this baby home.

He needs the days but I need them too. Sometimes I think I need them more.

Fear is such a battle. Daily I ask myself where to draw the line. How far will I let my fear take me? It starts with holding my breath through my entire pregnancy but it won't end when the baby is born. The fear will spill over . I will bring my son home and hold my breath for the first year of his life worried that he might die in his sleep or choke on something. And I'll cry in my prayers every night asking God to keep him safe for just one more day. The thought of losing him will overwhelm my life and I will never have peace...I will spend all the precious days of his life holding my breath...

Unless I choose to breathe.

How life goes, if and when things workout, and all the happy endings DO NOT cure the fear. Fear is choice. Which means letting go of fear is a choice too.

Why is it so hard?

I have to be honest. I don't consider myself a paranoid type of person. But after Aubrey and Ellie died I became afraid for the first time in my life...not afraid of death or loss, but afraid of pain. I never hurt like that before. I can't even explain it. And the thought of feeling that agony again, of having to live though the loss of another child, is my worst fear...one I have felt twice already in my lifetime and pray to God I NEVER have to feel again.

I have said out loud many times to others that I trust God no matter what. I don't want to lose this baby but if I do I trust God to get me through it just like he did before (I know all the right things to say to put others at ease) but inside I feel my stomach turn in knots when I hear those words come out of my mouth. Inside I beg God not to let that happen. Inside I know how it would destroy me.

I know the difference between an intellectual understanding of God's word and an experiential understanding, I have walked out my faith through times of real suffering. I trust God's word. I trust His ways and I trust His love, but I still fear the pain.

I simply don't think I could bare it again.

My struggle these days isn't with my faith, but with myself. For some reason I am choosing fear when I don't have to. When I don't even want to. I don't understand myself sometimes. Pain can trigger bad habits I think, habits we have to purposefully choose to change or risk letting them run our lives. Habits we know are not good for us, yet we allow anyway. Habits that rob us of the peace and joy right in front of us. Habits that harm us.

Today did not turn out to be a repeat of the past after all. My fears did not come true. As a matter of fact, today my prayer was answered.

My hope came true, not my fear.

Two years ago, 24 weeks and 4 days was my worst nightmare, the day my world came crumbling down on me. But today, 24 weeks and 4 days is my gift, my miracle, my reason not to fear.

For I am the LORD, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, do not fear; I will help you. Isa 41:13 NIV

Before and After

2010-04-14T16:02:00.001-07:00

This is my son Dustin. I just LOVE this picture. My sister-in-law took it. She is quite talented as you can see. Dustin is 15 months old here. He is 4 years old now. I forgot about those chubby knees. I forgot how cute he was. I miss those days.

When I look at this picture a flood of memories come rushing back. Just weeks before I watched my husband get on a ship bound for Iraq not to return for at least 6 months (which became 8 months) and packed everything we owned in storage and moved to my parent's house with my son. We would wait out the separation there.

It was me and Dustin against the world, mom and son making the most of dad's time away. And make the most of it we did.

We took walks daily and went to the park regularly. We went to the farmer's market every Saturday morning where Dustin ate strawberries, green tops and all. Occasionally we fell asleep together for afternoon naps and practiced holding our breath in my parent's pool. Daily we used baby sign language, read books, stacked blocks, and sung songs. We even hopped a red-eye or two and had a few adventures sleeping on couches and seeing friends and family in other cities and states.

It was our special time. Just him and I.

What you can't see hidden in the story of that photo are the lonely nights, tears, and unexpected hardships that befall temporary single motherhood. I worried a lot during those months. My husband was not on vacation, he was in Iraq, fighting a war. I just wanted him home safely. I was also very lonely during that time. Putting Dustin to bed at night wasn't as much of a break from a long day chasing a toddler as it was a reminder that I was alone. It would get too quiet sometimes and I missed having a warm body to curl up to in bed at night. Sometimes I would let Dustin sleep in my bed with me just to distract myself from my loneliness. It was tough to take care of my son by myself for eight months, I had regular moments of frustration and exhaustion, but none of them compared to the loneliness of all those quiet nights.

My grandfather also died that summer, and I didn't know it then, but he would be the first of a string of losses in my life.

Harder days were ahead.

This picture represents the life I miss. When my hardest days were a temporary adjustment to a situation with a certain end. When the most exhausting thing in my life was a chubby-kneed little toddler who brought me more joy than I could measure. When I could count down the days until we were all together again...

Today when I see this picture I not only see the life that was, but the life that will never be.

I should have another picture of chubby knees, two sets from the cutest identical twins you ever saw.

But I had to let that picture go when I let them go. Along with a thousand other pictures that will never be.

This picture makes me smile. I see my favorite little boy in the world during a very special time in our lives. I see my old life.

But it also makes me a little sad. I see in it life before...

before loss
before grief
before Aubrey and Ellie

It is bittersweet.

Bittersweet in the most precious way imaginable though.

As I write this, the little boy in my belly is kicking away...I am already impressed with his fiery little personality. He likes his presence known. And I like him. I deeply hope to have a chubby-knee picture of him someday.

And when I look at it I will be reminded not of before, but of after.

God is so gracious to provide us with an after.

What is your after?

Letting Go

2010-04-06T13:11:00.001-07:00

My grandmother died one week ago.

I didn't post about it. Only because I was not sure what to say.

I am still not sure what to say.

She had been sick for a long time so it was not unexpected that she passed away. It was a blessing to tell you the truth. I have not enjoyed watching my grandparents get sick and waste away. First it was my grandad three years ago. Then my grandma in March.

There comes a point when watching some one you love suffer becomes too much. I find myself unsure even how to pray, begging only for God's mercy and grace in whatever form he deems necessary.

Restoration through death is God's ultimate healing gift.

It is only painful for those of us left behind.

So watching my grandma lay in bed too weak to even speak, I felt myself letting go. She was better off with the Lord. I knew it. We all knew it. But we each had to let go on our own.

I couldn't let go for all of us.

I can only imagine what my dad is going through losing his last remaining parent. I dread the day I have to say goodbye to my own parents as I know it will break my heart.

But although I don't know the grief of losing a parent, I am no stranger to grief. I think that is why I find myself so accepting of my grandmother's passing. It makes sense. And it was inevitable in my lifetime. Just as it is inevitable that I will someday bury by own parents. That is the way it ought to go God willing. That is the natural order of things.

But I was not supposed to bury my own children.

Letting go of Aubrey and Ellie was not something I did rationally sitting at their bedside, worried and tired of watching them suffer. I wanted to fight for them. I wanted to never give up. I wanted to hold out for a miracle. I wanted them to live.

Everyone around me saw what my girls needed. I could see in their eyes that hope was fading. But I just couldn't let go.

Even as we removed them from life support. Even as I held them in my arms and gave them my blessing to go. Even as I watched them fade away...

I just couldn't let go.

At their funeral I remember feeling like I really wasn't there. There was no way my two babies were in that casket. And the truth of God's grace restoring their tiny little bodies in heaven did not comfort me.

I just could not let go.

It took a year and a half and a new pregnancy, the perfectly timed gift of a tiny little boy, for me to finally let go. I wanted so badly to see twin girls on that ultrasound screen. But I saw just one baby. And later I learned that baby was a boy. I don't know why I thought it might be them. Aubrey and Ellie were not going to return to me.

It was time to let them go.

It was time to accept that my greatest loss was their greatest gain and trust that God did what was best for them despite what it cost me. God saw past my tears and fears and intervened on their behalf. He choose them when I didn't know what choice to make, when the best choice felt like the worst one, when letting go seemed simply impossible to do.

I guess that is why letting go of my grandma came so easily. I have had a lot of practice.

I hold on to temporal things much more loosely these days and instead hold tightly to the hope that we will all be united again in the arms of our Heavenly Father.

I miss my grandma. I am sad she is not with us. But I rejoice in her restoration. And I can't help but be a little jealous that she is with my girls.

Because I miss them most of all.

Crazy Brave

2010-03-26T08:48:00.000-07:00

Exactly two years ago today I posted on our family blog that I was expecting twins.

I was shocked and thrilled and so ready for the challenge, I mean blessing, two babies would be. I knew I could do it. And I knew that I would love every minute of it. Well maybe not EVERY minute, but you know what I mean. And I had naivety on my side. I had NO IDEA what I was in for...

I planned on blogging about the insanity of twins and of three kids under three! I planned on sleepless nights, endless nursing, and more diapers than I could count. I planned on cute matching (but not identical) outfits, oohs and awes from strangers admiring the cutest little twin girls they ever did see, and tons of special moments when the overwhelming task of parenting becomes more than worth it in a single smile or baby laugh.

But nothing went as planned.

I didn't get to keep my twins after all. Instead, my lifetime of plans fell through, and in a blink I was standing at the gravestone of my baby girls. One day they were with me and the next they were gone. And I have been whirling ever since.

I never imagined that two years later I would be sitting here blogging about my life AFTER LOSS instead of posting pictures of my girls' first steps. I wonder who would have walked first, Aubrey or Ellie?

Life has continued to move forward however. Often times against my will. And I cannot believe that somehow, with God's strength no doubt, I survived the last 20 months. There were most definitely dark times. I never felt true hopelessness until I lost my girls. But once I got my bearings again (grief is extremely disorienting) I emerged from my dark, sad place, with a new hope.

I wanted to live again. I wanted to be a willing participant in life once more. Living did not mean leaving my girls behind and I wanted back in the game. So off I went...

And somehow I became crazy brave along the way...

Because I wanted to have another baby.

Before I lost my girls I thought I was brave, but I wasn't. I was naive. There is a difference. I lived my life not fully aware of what it could really cost me. Everything seemed to work out. I even believed it was my boldness paying off. The bigger the risk the greater the reward right? Nothing ventured, nothing gained...or some stupid, naive rationale like that.

True bravery is not just facing the fire, it is facing the fire again after you have already been burned.

Having another baby was my fire. And for a long time I did not want to take the risk. The thought of losing another baby was more than I could bare. I already had a son and he was enough. I should just count my blessings, nurse my wounds, and spend the rest of my life minimizing the risk and therefore minimizing the pain.

But something about that just didn't feel like living. After all, I did lose my girls, I did have my heart and world shattered in the blink of an eye, but I also had seven and thirteen life changing days with my sweet daughters. And I wouldn't trade those days for anything.

I didn't want to minimize my risk, I wanted to live despite it all. And that is when I realized that somehow, someway, I became crazy brave. I was ready to face my fire...

...and have another baby.

I wanted to at least try. And no matter what happened I wanted to face it because, although my heart could be broken again and that scared me to death, it also could be filled with immeasurable joy with the gift of a new baby.

Pain hurts, but it also makes the joy so much sweeter.

Now I am expecting again, this time a little boy. A constantly moving little boy I cannot wait to meet, and name, when we figure out just the right one.

But I have not faced the fire yet. My son is yet to be born. We bravely anticipate his arrival in a few months and each day I battle the flames. Flames of fear, helplessness, and uncertainty. And as I battle those flames I find myself refined by their fire, depending entirely on God's will and ever increasing in faith.

Only God's grace can turn a fire meant for our destruction into the very flames that refine us.

I do not have any guarantees but One, my Jesus and the hope he provides.

And our hope for you is firm, because we know that just as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our comfort. 2 Corinthians 1:7 (New International Version)

My Jesus will get me through. No matter what.

I know that many of my blog readers are facing an even hotter fire than my own. Some of you can't seem to get pregnant at all, others of you have tried again after loss only to experience another loss, maybe even many losses, and are growing hopeless and weary. And even others of you have had to face the unfair truth that your genetics make having a healthy baby statistically small or even impossible. All of these are heartbreaking situations. I want you to know that I am praying for you today. I am praying for hope, healing, miracles, and courage as you endure these hardships and persevere with faith. I also pray that your heart would be open to whatever God has for you as he gives you a NEW hope and future, for nothing is impossible with God.

Be crazy brave. Trust Him.

It isn't so crazy after all.

Jesus looked at them and said, "With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible." Matthew 19:26 (New International Version)

For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:11 (New International Version)

Its a boy!

2010-03-23T16:39:00.000-07:00

There he is! My little boy. We were thrilled to find out that we are having another son. I admit, I was surprised, but I couldn't be more excited. More importantly, he is healthy and developing perfectly. And so far my body is handling this pregnancy with flying colors. Thank you for all your prayers and encouragement.

Stained

2010-03-18T20:09:00.000-07:00

I have been nesting lately.

This is pretty par for the course for me. Around 20 weeks of pregnancy I start organizing, decorating, and sorting through everything. Every cupboard and drawer gets gone through. I part easily with things so I send a lot of stuff to our local Goodwill store. And I take inventory of what I need to get before the baby comes. All I want to do all day is make my house as homey and functional as possible. Its fun.

For my birthday my sister gave me a sewing machine! I have been wanting one so badly. My sister and I attempted to share my mother's old one, but we live pretty far from each other and it really wasn't working out. Now I have my very own. I spent the afternoon today setting up my sewing "nook" in my bedroom so that I can get started on all my "nesting projects."

One project I have been planning for a long time is making a baby blanket with the bedding I saved from when Aubrey and Ellie were in the hospital. I kept all the blankets that ever touched their bodies. My sister was going to do it for me to honor my girls, but before she could get started I called her in tears and asked to do it myself. I feel strongly that it is something I need to do for them. And I guess for me too.

The problem is I can't bring myself to do it.

I pulled out their bedding today and when I opened the tiny little blankets I saw the stains. Each one a vivid reminder of the little lives that made them.

Those blankets held my girls more than I did. They got to touch them when I was only allowed to stare through the incubator glass. They kept my girls warm as they took their last breaths and covered them with dignity as I walked them back to their beds for the very last time.

Now those stained blankets are all I have left. And I can't bare the thought of washing them. When I touch those blankets I touch my girls. I'm not ready to wash that away.

I may never be.

For the time being I decided just to keep them as they are, memories and stains intact. I put them back in their memory boxes and there they will stay until I decide I am ready.

In the meantime it comforts me to know that I can still touch the last thing that touched them. Just like those blankets are stained, so I am. Stained with love, loss, and all the memories that come with it.

Nothing can wash those stains away.

My Birthday

2010-03-15T08:09:00.000-07:00

I had the most amazing birthday this year. My best birthday to date. And that is saying a lot because I have had some pretty great birthdays in my life.

But this year takes the cake. And my husband gets the credit. He had help (thanks mom and dad) but it was his truly touching idea that sets this birthday apart.

What he doesn't know is that it couldn't have come at a more crucial time.

Since my girls died my self-esteem has been in the toilet. I have struggled for the last year and a half to feel okay with myself. Grief didn't exactly bring out the best in me and facing those weaknesses in my character on top of the guilt and shame I carried for so long left me increasingly insecure.

As I approached 30 my insecurities only intensified as I felt that I was not meeting my own expectations of where I wanted to be at this point in my life, and more importantly of WHO I wanted to be, or thought I should be, by now.

By my assessment I had fallen drastically short. And I worried that everyone else believed so as well.

When I woke up on the morning of my birthday I laid in bed for a bit and listened to the quite. Today's the day God. The big 3-0. Let the sun shine today. Please. I would love sun shine for my birthday. For some reason I just wanted a nice sunny day.

Little did I know how the SON would shine on me that day.

It turned out that my husband planned a surprise party for me! But that isn't even the best part. During the party my husband asked everyone to come into the living room. I thought maybe it was time to open presents or something, but he had something else in mind.

It turned out to be the best gift I ever received.

Instead of bringing birthday presents, my husband had asked everyone to tell me, in their own words, what having me in their life these last 30 years has meant to them. I had the surprise and privilege of sitting quietly as one by one each friend or family member took a turn sharing from their heart. I heard over and over again how much I was loved and valued and how I had made a difference in their lives in one way or another. By the end I was in tears.

Never in my life have I felt so special. Saying I was deeply touched is an understatement.

All those meaningful words of affirmation and encouragement were profoundly healing to my broken spirit. I was humbled and built up all at the same time. And for the first time in 20 months I felt good to be who God made me.

It felt like sunshine on my soul.

I knew immediately that God had given me the gift I had requested.

The Son himself was shinning on me, warming my heart and healing my hurts through the words of those who knew me best and loved me most.

I couldn't believe that my husband, family, and friends would do something like that for me. And more importantly I couldn't believe that God would.

We do serve an amazingly poignant God. His gifts are always perfect.

Jars of Clay has a song called the Eleventh Hour and there is a line in the song that has been a prayer of mine for many years. It says I won't give up on giving you a chance to blow my mind. After Aubrey and Ellie died I sort of gave up on giving God any further opportunity to blow my mind as I felt that moment should have been when he saved my girls.

Unmet expectations have a way of eroding away even the most solid faith.

But clearly God had not given up on me.

On my 30th birthday God blew my mind anyway.

Thank you friends and family for your amazing gift to me on my birthday. You know who you are and what you said. It meant more to me than you will ever know.

And thank you Kirk for loving me so boldly.

I will never forget this birthday as long as I live.

Ultrasound Update

2010-03-09T12:20:00.000-08:00

Sorry everyone.

It turns out that today is not the day to find out the baby's sex.

It remains a mystery for a few more weeks.

Although it was my understanding that we would be getting an ultrasound today, we did not. I also did not see my regular doctor so I am not sure exactly what happened. It is possible that the flow of information didn't trickle down or that I misunderstood. Who knows?

Regardless, no news.

I made sure to schedule a high resolution ultrasound before I left so on March 23 at 10:30AM we will find out for sure.

The doctor did do a less advanced ultrasound to try and see the sex of the baby but this little one did not want to cooperate. It refused to face forward and it kept its legs tightly crossed. It doesn't want us looking there I guess. I can't blame it.

I do have a great picture of the back of the babies head though! It was a very cute head.

But everything looks good. Mom and baby are healthy.

Thank you for your prayers. Please continue to pray as we wait another few weeks to find out for certain if it is a baby he or a baby she.

Ultrasound Tomorrow

2010-03-08T23:15:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow at 9am I go in for an ultrasound! (Tuesday at 9am California time)

I am thrilled because I will get to find out this baby's sex. I will certainly keep you posted.

But I would like to request prayer. Ultrasounds are not just for discovering the sex, they are for making sure the baby is healthy and everything is fine.

I would like you to pray for a healthy baby.

Nothing matters more than my babies health and development.

Thank you friends!

God bless you.

The Lies Pain Tells Us

2010-02-18T13:27:00.000-08:00

Isn't it amazing the level of denial some people can exist in? Isn't it even more amazing when we finally realize that person is us?

Ouch.

I have been there.

There was a season in my life when I honestly believed I was the victim. The victim of a husband who wasn't there for me like I felt he should be and the victim of a God who apparently doesn't answer prayer after all.

In my eyes I had done everything I could do, I had done more than my part, it was everyone else who was letting me down. Even God. And I felt pretty entitled to be upset about it.

So I wallowed. I wallowed for a long time. Months and months of pitying myself.

I didn't deserve this. I really didn't. And I dwelled there day and night.

Then I suddenly switched gears. I no longer felt like a victim. Instead, I felt like a failure. It was all my fault. Everything. My struggling marriage, my dead babies, every wrong and bad thing in my life was all my fault. I did deserve it. All of it. Bad people deserve bad things.

I spent months overwhelmed with guilt. I grew to hate myself in a deep and scary way. And any hope of a good life again was fading away. I wasn't worthy of it.

I eventually realized that I was stuck. Stuck in the lies pain sometimes tells us.

And I wanted out. But I didn't know how.

I tried all kinds of distractions. Exercising. Reading every self-help book on the shelf. Drinking an entire bottle of wine on more than one occasion. Even seeking out an inappropriate emotional relationship. None of which fixed anything.

Sin always promises to relieve our pain.

But it never does. As a matter of fact, the pain only got worse.

No one tells you how confusing grief can be or how vulnerable you'll be in your pain. I look back on those days and I hurt all over again. I was so disoriented, so alone, and so overwhelmed. I heaped more pain on myself as a result. And recovering has been long and slow.

Trusting God's word is what got me through. Its what is getting me through.
Relief only came when I let God's truths defeat the lies and accepted the comfort that God promised. I also sought very good counsel (I saw a therapist) to help me see what my pain was blinding me from.

It didn't happen overnight but healing did come. I was able to stop blaming others, including God and myself, for my pain and let go of the guilt and shame that had eroded away all my self-esteem. I don't hate myself anymore nor do I hate everyone else. I have learned to accept that not everything is in my control.

Mostly I have stopped believing the lies.

The funny thing about lies though is that you can't just stop believing them, you have to replace them with what is TRUE.

My life is not perfect, but at least I see it clearly now. There is still lots of work to do and healing to take place, but at least now it can happen.

Healing is what it true for me today. Hope is true. Joy is true. God's comfort is true. God's love is true. My pain is still true as my girls are still not with me. But the lies are gone allowing the good truths to help heal the difficult ones. Sorrow and joy can coexist. Pain and peace. Emptiness with fulfillment.

Lies heal nothing. They only wound more deeply and seek to rob you of any opportunity for real healing.

Don't live another minute in denial of what you need to make it through the grief you carry. Healing will only come when you accept the truth about where healing comes from. It does not come from yourself, your strength, your reasoning, from time, distraction, or medication.

Only God and the truth of his Word can heal your pain.

My soul is weary with sorrow; strengthen me according to your word. Ps 119:28 NIV

Don't Wake Me Up

2010-02-11T16:00:00.000-08:00

I just finished watching a moving called In America for the thousandth time. It came out when I was still in college and I loved it then, but I love it more now. If you have never seen it, you absolutely must!

Especially if you have lost a child.

The movie is based on a true story of a family that illegally immigrated to New York City from Ireland in the 1980s so that Johnny (the father) could pursue his dream of acting on Broadway. The more meaningful and beautiful subplot to the movie is that, before they left Ireland, they lost their young son Franky to a malignant brain tumor. The family desperately tries to move forward with life after their devastating loss but it proves more difficult than they imagined. When Sarah (the mom) finds out she is expecting, the joy of the new baby is thwarted by complications with the pregnancy. The movie touchingly portrays the complexity of grief, the blessing of hope, and healing power of love.

There is a particular scene in the movie (beware, it will make you cry) where Sarah is in the hospital after giving birth to their new daughter prematurely. The baby needs a blood transfusion to survive but Sarah doesn't want the baby to get "bad" blood and becomes frantic. From her bed she is screaming to her husband, "Save my baby Johnny. Save my baby. I want to see my baby. Why can't I see my baby?" Nurses come rushing in to calm her down and administer a sedative. Just before she closes her eyes she looks up at Johnny and says...

"If my baby dies, don't wake me up."

The first time I saw this movie those words broke my heart. When I was finally brave enough to watch this movie again after my girls died, those words took on a whole new meaning.

I said those exact words to God as I was rushed into my c-section.

"If my babies die, don't wake me up."

There are some realities so terrifying, it seems death would be a better alternative. I simply could not fathom living if my children did not. And at that time, I didn't even want to try.

In that moment, my fear was bigger than life itself. Bigger than my love for my husband and for my son, bigger than any dream or goal I had ever had, even bigger than my faith.

Fear can be that big sometimes.

And it isn't just a perception. My fear was real. Very very real. And it was certainly the most real thing in my life at that moment.

But God knew that moment would pass. He knew that my fear would fade and I would again see that He was the most real thing in my life. And He would give me everything I would need to face whatever was ahead...because I did wake up.

I woke that day to two ALIVE babies. I was so thankful to wake up. Just to see them and meet them and name them and love them seemed worth being brave for. The fear was still there, but it was different, and along with it was hope. For the time being, they were still with me. We were all together. And everyday I woke up was one more day with them.

Thirteen days later however, I would have given anything for God to honor my prior request. I crawled in bed that night completely numb and feeling desperately hopeless. I was perfectly content to close my eyes and never open them again. But morning came, and I awoke.

And I have woken up every day since.

590 times to be exact.

590 new days to face without my girls. 590 showers to cry in. 590 breakfasts, lunches, and dinners eaten without them. At least 590 cups of tea to remember them during. And 590 nights lying in the dark missing them with tears streaming down my face.

But also 590 days to heal. 590 opportunities to dream and hope again. 590 days to hold and kiss my son. And most importantly, 590 chances to experience God's love, strength, and comfort during the saddest time of my life.

I think if I ever find myself overwhelmed with fear again, instead of telling God what to do, I'll just tell Him I trust Him. I'll remember the time I woke up anyway...

Because 590 days later I'm glad I woke up.

I'm glad He woke me up, each and every time.

God always knows best. His ways are always good. His love is always enough. His grace is always sufficient. His promises always endure.

I lie down and sleep; I wake again, because the LORD sustains me. Ps 3:5 NIV

Don't Worry, They Grow

2010-02-09T21:18:00.000-08:00

For some reason today I keep hearing something a stranger said to me the day my Aubrey died.

Something that I have resented for months now.

Aubrey died after Ellie so when Aubrey died it was not just the day I lost a daughter, but it was the end of the fight for us, for all of us. It was the end of hope and the end of maybe and possibly. It was the end of life as I knew it.

I walked out of the hospital that day knowing I would never go back. No more babies to visit. No more meetings with doctors. Just funeral arrangements and a world-shattering grief. It was over. Both of my babies were gone.

That day, as I walked out of the NICU, after seeing my Aubrey for the very last time, the mother of the baby in the space next door, was walking back in. As we passed each other she said something I will never forget.

"Don't worry, they grow."

I cannot explain to you the agony of those words.

I realize that she was only trying to encourage me and that she did not know both my babies had died. I often wonder if she realized when she walked back in that Aubrey was not in her incubator anymore and felt horrible for saying something so careless. Part of me hopes she did.

You see, my babies did not grow. They would never grow. They died.

Everything didn't work out for us. And I resented her assumption that it would.

But today I have been thinking and examining my heart as I wrestle with why I can't seem to let go of those words.

The truth is I am guilty of doing to others exactly what that woman did to me.

It is never ok to impose your reality on someone else. It is never ok to assume that how things have worked out for you is how they work out for everyone. And it is never ok to offer an impossible guarantee to someone desperate for hope.

Yet I know that I have done it too. I have said to people who can't get pregnant, "Don't worry, it will happen." I have said to friends with crumbling marriages, "Don't worry, you'll make it." I have said to people struggling with depression or finances or loss or tragedies of other kinds, "Don't worry, everything will be ok." I've honestly said those things.

They've been said to me. Before and after my girls died.

But either way, it was never right.

I want to be better than that. And I can't believe it took losing my daughters for me to realize how many times I said the wrong things, how many times I offered the wrong advice, and how many meaningless promises I made on God's behalf.

When people are going through hard times the best thing to say is sometimes nothing. At the very least we should utter only the words we are sure of.

God will carry you.

What else is there to say really?

My babies did not grow. Maybe yours did not either. Or maybe it was your marriage that didn't heal. Or the house you lost anyway. The cancer that came back. The spouse killed in a car accident. The drug addiction your brother never kicked. The adoption that fell through. The pregnancy that never happened. The parent with Alzheimer's.

Quite simply, yours was the situation that didn't workout ok in the end.

I have spent the last 19 months coming to terms with being in the "everything didn't work out ok for us" group.

Just like I wanted it for everyone else, I wanted it for myself even more. I wanted to be the miracle story, the success story, the mom who never lost faith and watched her babies beat the odds. I wanted so desperately for everything to work out in the end.

But it didn't.

Hearing "Don't worry, they'll grow" sooner might have actually encouraged me. But that day, that moment, it only rubbed my face in my less desirable and horribly painful reality.

I don't know what you may be going through or what you may be facing. And, although I wish I could, I can't promise that everything will be fine nor can I promise that it will all work out the way you hope.

I can only leave you with this.

Don't worry, God will carry you.

Let Him.

Abnormal Life

2010-02-03T15:58:00.000-08:00

Life is pretty good these days.

Southern California is having amazing weather. I literally blow kisses to the clear blue sky while the sun shines on my face in February. I love it here. Always have.

I am almost 14 weeks pregnant if you can believe that! All is well. Healthy mom and healthy baby.

Dustin is growing like a weed. I just got him new shoes today as his toes were hanging over the front of his sandals. He is the big 4 now after all (since January 7th) and truly growing up, revealing his God given gifts more each day. In the grocery store this afternoon I watched him volunteer to help one of the employees arrange a crate of fresh salsa containers in a box of crushed ice for display. The employee was so sweet to oblige him and together they set out forty containers or so in perfect rows. I waited patiently with my cart and beamed with pride. My son has a rare and special disposition. He really does. I praised him for his helpfulness and thanked the employee for his participation. It is a beautiful thing to encourage character, even in a four-year-old. Dustin gave me a smile as we walked away. Just another ordinary day for him. I could see that he was quite content to be of use. God blessed my sock off when He gave me my son. And he is a blessing to many more than just me.

My tea company is finally getting off the ground. Our forward motion is exciting to say the least. We are only weeks away from our official launch...so keep us on your radar! I'd love to bless you with tea in the very near future.

All the drama with my puppy seems to have come to an end. When she ran away last Thursday I was a mess. I thought for sure she had been hit by a car. The fear of losing her really got to me, but the worst case scenario was not realized and she miraculously ended up at our local Humane Society. I picked her up the next morning and met her with "scolding" hugs for scaring me like that. However, on Monday she got out AGAIN, this time by digging her way out under the side fence. I was furious. I guess puppies just don't understand grace! Clearly she wanted to push her luck...or perhaps she was just doing what puppies do. It is hard to say. This time my neighbors saw her escaping and put her in their backyard until they saw we were home. A knock on the door that evening revealed our teenage neighbor holding our 35 lb puppy like a baby to prevent her from running away again in transit. I was thankful, and relieved, despite my frustration. My husband fixed the hole immediately, despite having twenty more important things to do, and so far "Chevelle the Escape Artist" seems to be at bay...at least for now.

Things are getting back to normal I guess you could say.

Or not.

I don't even know what I am saying.

Normal?

I hate that word.

What is normal anyway?

I will tell you what normal was.

Normal was calling my family to tell them I was pregnant and five weeks later calling again to tell them it was TWINS! Normal was measuring my explorer to see if three car seats would fit in the back side by side. Normal was searching Craig's List for a double stroller. Normal was potty training my son at two years old so that I would not have three in diapers. Normal was climbing in bed at night will a growing belly and a fast asleep two year old in his toddler bed feeling that all was as it should be.

But it is not as it should be anymore.

Normal is a naive word with no place in my life anymore. I think now I use it only to make other people feel better about my life. I describe things (life after losing my babies) as normal and everyone breathes a sigh of relief. But I know it is not really normal at all.

It is abnormal.

I am comfortable describing my life as abnormal. Abnormally blessed, abnormally ordinary, abnormally hard, abnormally sad, abnormally _______________. Whatever fits, it all makes for a proper description of life after loss.

My life is still abnormally difficult. Yet filled with abnormal joy. I mean, think about it. There is nothing normal about having joy after such sadness or normal about experiencing goodness again after so much pain.

Normal implies what we are used to, and no one gets used to living without their children. I certainly haven't. And I won't.

I have experienced all kinds of things since my daughters died. Grief, sorrow, guilt, sadness, anger, peace, joy, restoration...the list goes on. But normalcy is not one of them.

Life is abnormal from here on out. From the moment of Aubrey and Ellie's last heartbeat, normal faded away never to be seen or heard of again.

It is only a matter of time until we all lose our normal. Like me, some of you already have. Normalcy may be an illusion anyway, like control. It is all relative.

But one thing is not relative. One promise remains. Our life may be normal one day and abnormal the next, but God remains the same; good, loving, gracious and merciful. He is our only constant in an otherwise schizophrenic existence. He is our only hope to successfully navigate this constantly changing terrain.

I have been reoriented by His power alone. My life does not need to be normal, it only needs to be His. Only Christ can transform an abnormal life into something meaningful.

Only Christ can take something so bad and use it for good...and their is nothing normal about that.

It seems that an abnormal life might have a few redeeming qualities after all.

FOUND!

2010-01-29T14:48:00.001-08:00

Chevelle is safe and sound at home now. She gave me quite the scare, but fortunately someone found her and turned her in to the local Humane Society last night and I was able to pick her up this morning.

Thank you very much all who prayed. Our prayers were answered as she was not injured and returned to us quickly.

My Dog is Missing!

2010-01-28T21:20:00.000-08:00

I am asking for your prayers tonight as my puppy Chevelle is missing.

Apparently she got out of our backyard by somehow getting our side gate open and made a run for it. I have looked everywhere for her, but have not found her.

It is dark and cold out now and I am worried. Please ask God to keep her safe and return her to us as soon as possible. My fear, of course, is that she has been hit by a car as we live near two very busy main roads. Pray that this is not the case.

My family and I will be quite sad if something bad has happened to her. She is special to us.

Thank you for caring.

Rescue Me

2010-01-24T10:27:00.000-08:00

The first time I was rescued was March 13th, 1980 (yes, I just gave my age away. I turn the big 3-0 this year). I was born under complete emergency circumstances. I was two weeks early, breech, and literally stuck. The doctor told my mother that if she didn't consent to an emergency c-section, if I lived, I would be brain-damaged at best. She agreed immediately and I was born healthy with a head of dark hair at 6lbs exactly.

That may have been the first rescue but it wasn't the last. I'd require many more after that.

When I was just a baby, probably not even two, my dad took me outside on a snowy afternoon (we lived in Colorado when I was little) to ride the sled down the drive way. My dad would let me go a little ways and then stop me so I wouldn't careen down the hill. However, after a few successful runs, he lost his grip and I went flying down the driveway, across the road and down the steep slope on the other side. My dad said he thought for sure I slammed into a log or rock and was not sure what he would find as he went running after me. Once down the hill he found me, still holding on to the sled, wedged into a snow covered embankment face first. He pulled me out expecting a terrified and possibly injured little girl. He wiped the snow from my face and pulled my hat, which hand fallen down over my eyes, up so I could see again. But I wasn't hurt at all or even scared. I looked up at my dad smiling as said, "Do 'gain Dad." He laughed, thanked God I was ok, and climbed up the hill with me in his arms. God guided my sled that day and my dad knew it. God rescued me.

Later that summer, still a little girl, my dad took me for a walk. Our house was off the main road a bit and our particular street was not paved. I liked to walk on it with my dad and find rocks and things. Sometimes he would put me on his shoulders and we would go to the dairy queen for one of those ice cream cones dipped in the chocolate that hardens. I loved those! On this particular day we were just strolling along exploring and enjoying being outside. I had walked my little two year old self thirty yards or so ahead of my dad. He had is eye on me but I was quite content to wander independently along. Just then, he saw it. A very large dog, 100 feet away, crouched silently on the other side of the embankment, eyes locked on me moving toward me, stalking me. It was clear that dog wanted me for lunch and my dad said a shot of adrenaline ran through his body. There was no way he could run fast enough to get to me before the dog did, but he also knew he had to do something. Just then the dog sprung from its crouch and started running directly for me at full speed. My dad looked around for something to throw, desperate to deter the dog's intentions. He grabbed a rock and said a prayer. He had one shot. If he missed there wouldn't be enough time to throw another rock before the dog got to me. With all his might he let that rock fly. It hit the dog right behind its front leg square in the ribs fifteen feet from where I stood, frozen. The dog immediately ran off yelping and my dad scooped me up and took me home. There is no question that God placed that rock on that road for my dad to pick up that day and guided its path. Instead of being mauled, and maybe even killed, I was rescued.

And my rescues were not only physical. I have been rescued in many ways.

I went to the river bottom one summer to smoke a cigarette. A friend and I stole some smokes from her dad. But just as we tried to light up a bee stung me on my inner thigh. I gave up my rebellion and went home to get some ice. I was convinced it was God punishing me. But now I think it was God rescuing me...from stupidity.

In seventh grade some girls in school decided they didn't like me and wanted to beat me up. I took the threats and torment for a week without telling my parents, but when one of the girls slammed my head into my locker when school got out, the big goose egg on my forehead sort of gave it away. I went home and filled my parents in on my week of hell and tried to figure out what to do about it. My mom wanted to call the police. My dad said no, that would only make it worse, and suggested I call their bluff and agree to fight the girl who hit me when my back was turned. I thought my dad was crazy. But he was very serious. He new that I couldn't shy away from this, I had to face it head on. So, despite my complete fear and unwillingness, I went to school Monday and told my foe that I would meet her at the bike racks on early day to settle things once and for all. She agreed and it was on. As you can imagine, early day loomed over my head as I pondered just how this "fight" would go. I was not exactly tough stuff. My dad promised that he would be there waiting in his truck, parked where he would see me, but wouldn't be seen by us. Sure enough early day came and I faced my enemy. We met, scuffled, and well, that was the end of it. She didn't kill me as I imagined. I was not beat to a pulp. I was a little dirty and so was she, but over all she quickly lost interest in killing me and we went on our way. I walked back to my dad's truck dusty with messed up hair and burst into tears as soon as I got inside. But I quickly gained my composure and realized that I wasn't scared anymore. I was dirty and a little shaken up, but free from torment. God did not rescue me from all the evils of junior high nor prevent my fight at the bike racks that day, but he did (largely through my dad) rescue me...from fear.

I also had a friend while growing up who was molested for years by a family member. I spent I don't even know how much time at her house. Yet in all those years, all those sleep-overs, not once did anyone try to abuse me. Not even a little. It was not until I was older that I became aware of God's protection on my life at that time. God rescued me from life-altering harm.

Years later I asked my mom why she thought that I was protected from danger we were not aware of. She said she thinks it is because she raised me to give injustice a voice. I could not be manipulated by an abuser. I would have told for sure. And I think she is exactly right. God set up every part of my life, from the parents he gave me and what they taught me, to the placement of a rock on a road or an embankment of snow, all with my rescue in mind.

Upon conception His hand of grace was on me. Before I even comprehended life, it was given to me over and over again.

When Aubrey and Ellie were in the hospital I was so certain of our rescue. I prayed like I had never prayed before, asking for a miracle, asking to be spared, asking to be saved. God certainly rescued us all, just not as I had hoped. And it has been hard for me to come to terms with a rescue that didn't feel much like a rescue at all.

My Jesus has rescued me from death at birth, rescued me from sin into a relationship with him as a young child, rescued me from danger, fear, and stupidity. But he did not rescue me from loss. He rescued my girls, but I feel left behind from that rescue.

How can I trust I will be rescued this time. I know this new baby will be rescued either way, but will I? Will it feel like a rescue or will I have to believe by faith that it is?

I don't know about you, but I am ready to not just be rescued, but feel rescued.

You see, we all have to be rescued. It starts at birth but it certainly does not end there. Our rescue is never over on earth. I guess you could say we are in need of constant rescuing.

Sometimes even re-rescuing. Ok, all the time re-rescuing.

But for those of us without our babies, we have a different perspective. Or at least we should. We know the rescuing is over for our little ones who now reside in heaven. They have been rescued! The process is over for them. They are perfect, they are whole, they know no pain, physical or emotional. They will never lose anything as they have gained EVERYTHING.

Their rescue is complete.

It is ours that is still awaiting fruition.

Ultimately our complete rescue awaits, but in the meantime my humanness needs an extra dose of encouragement. My faith, unfortunately, needs a pep talk from time to time. It is hard to feel rescued while still wondering in the wilderness of grief and loss. Knowing I will be delivered does not erase the feeling of being lost. Sometimes I just need to feel rescued.

Aubrey and Ellie were rescued in a way that I can only know. It will never feel like a rescue to me. But after 18 months of coming to terms with their rescue, and learning that I can truly trust my Heavenly Father and his ways, I still can't help but hope for something very different with this new baby. I want to feel rescued this time...

It is very possible that rescue feels like a tiny, squishy, red-head wrapped in a blanket breathing little breaths onto my cheek.

But if I don't get the rescue I hope for, I will still trust. God is faithful and if he chooses not to deliver me from loss again in the way I am praying for He will most certainly still rescue me just as He always has since the day I was born.

...you whom I have upheld since you were conceived, and have carried since your birth. Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you;I will sustain you and I will rescue you. Isa 46:3-4 NIV

New Posts on Perseverance Blog

2010-01-21T16:15:00.000-08:00

Read Part I, II, III and Execution Plan of

Five Ways to a Healthier You this New Year

at The Perseverance Project

Join me in starting the New Year out right!

99 THINGS

2010-01-21T08:09:00.000-08:00

This is just for fun, suggested by other bloggers.

Here are the rules: Bold the things you’ve done and post on your blog!

1. Started your own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than you can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang a solo
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a lightening storm
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown your own vegetables
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitch hiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught yourself a new language
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had your portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten Caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone
78. Been a passenger on a motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Kissed a stranger at midnight on New Year’s Eve
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating (I killed my own chicken once)
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Got a tattoo
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee

Sorting It All Out

2010-01-19T21:37:00.000-08:00

I am sitting here alone (my husband has been gone since Wednesday flying his helicopter cross-country for maintenance) watching The Biggest Loser (love it) shifting my attention back and fourth between the show and the songs I am singing in my head.

...Some say we need a miracle.
Some say there’s no hope at all.
But I know Your love is strong,
it goes on and on and on and on.
Rise up when it gets us down.
It’ll be the voice in a blaring crowd
Because we know Your love will lead us home
It goes on and on and on and on…

Good song. It is called On and On by Chasen. Been stuck in my head for days.

Also, a single line from one of my favorite songs won't leave me. When I say it won't leave me I mean it has taken up permanent residence I think. It has been there for months now. But I love it so much I don't mind.

'Cause I can see the light Before I see the sunrise (Alive Again by Matt Maher).

Amazing song. Worth a listen if you have not heard it before. That single line sums up my faith. That is why I named this blog Waiting for Morning. I have never been without the Light, even in my darkest times.

I have had a heavy heart lately. I am struggling to figure out what the best course of medical action is for this pregnancy. I am not comfortable with some of the things my doctors are recommending. My goal is, of course, the health and safety of my baby, but honestly figuring out how to accomplish that is easier said than done. My research does not always match up to what the doctor's tell me. It is hard to get answers I trust.

I don't want to make decisions solely out of fear, but I also don't want to be ignorant of real risks.

But I feel compelled to protect my baby. And not only from preterm labor, but from interventions that may be harmful and pose real risks. I am the only one who can stand in the gap for my child, and I take that extremely seriously.

But I still worry. I know that ultimately, no matter what I decided, I am not in control. Nothing is a guarantee. My trust cannot be in my doctors nor in the choices I make, it has to be in Christ alone, as only He can protect my unborn baby.

His stats are convincing. 100% of the time He is Good and 100% of the time His ways are perfect.

I wish the medical studies I have been reading had stats like that.

But since they don't, at least it makes it a clear choice of what my ultimate decision should be.

Trust Him.

His love is strong. And it goes on and on.

In such an imperfect world full of imperfect circumstances and situations it is nice to know we can put our complete faith into a perfect God. His ways are not our ways thankfully. And that is the only reason I can sleep at night.

In the darkness of my confusion, I see the Light before I even see the sun rise.

I call with all my heart; answer me, O LORD, and I will obey your decrees. I call out to you; save me and I will keep your statutes. I rise before dawn and cry for help; I have put my hope in your word. My eyes stay open through the watches of the night, that I may meditate on your promises. Ps 119:145-148

Interesting Article on Progesterone Injections

2010-01-19T14:46:00.000-08:00

As you know I have been doing some research on the safety and effectiveness of progesterone injections as a preventative measure for preterm labor. As part of my search I sent an email to a woman named Henci Goer, the author of The Thinking Woman's Guide to a Better Birth and Obstetric Myths Versus Research Realities asking for any information she may have on them.

She sent me a link to this article Does Progesterone Treatment Prevent Preterm Birth? A Case of “Skim Milk Masquerades as Cream”. It is a very informative and interesting article and I HIGHLY RECOMMEND that anyone considering progesterone injections read it.

I hope this helps anyone facing the risks of preterm labor make the most informed decision possible for them and their baby.

New Question: Does anyone have information about the risks of uterine rupture after a classical c-section? My doctors are insisting that I have an amino at 36 weeks to check the development of my babies lungs, administer steroids if necessary, and schedule a c-section as soon as the baby is ready so that I do not go into labor. I want to know if this is necessary or if letting myself go into labor and then having a c-section is safe option. I want my baby to stay in until it is ready, but I also don't want to put both of us in danger. I cannot VBAC since my c-section was classical I am told, this I have to accept I think, but I am not sure about all these other interventions. Any information would be helpful.

New Posts on Other Blog

2010-01-17T18:03:00.001-08:00

Please read my two new posts on my other blog

The Perseverance Project.

Something is Missing

2010-01-16T20:41:00.000-08:00

I am scared this baby will be a girl.

I know that sounds horrible. But I am.

I am afraid that if I have a little girl I will spend the rest of my life living out EVERYTHING I am missing out on without Aubrey and Ellie.

Sometimes I think it would be easier not to know.

I already have a boy so another one would be familiar. I would have my boys with me and my girls in heaven and it would simply be the way it is. I think I could settle on that.

But a little girl scares me to death.

Would she look like my girls? Would I call her by her sisters' names on accident? Would I compare her to Aubrey and Ellie even though I would try not to? Would she remind me every day of the two girls that are missing from my life? I honestly feel a lot of anxiety at the thought of a baby girl.

I had a dream the other night that this baby was a girl. In my dream the doctors put my newly born baby on my chest so I could see it, and looking up at me with bright blue eyes was a beautiful little girl. She had blond hair and long lashes and rosy cheeks. She was lovely. And I felt peace.

So why don't I feel peace right now?

Being pregnant again has been infinitely harder than I ever imagined. I was not prepared for the emotions that have been stirred up. I waited almost a year an a half since my daughters' deaths to get pregnant again to make sure I was ready, really really ready. But I guess there is no such thing.

Don't get me wrong. I want this baby. I want this baby very much. But I want my girls too, more than ever (if that is even possible).

My girls are missing from this and it hurts.

These are the moments I find myself on my face before God, asking him to help me. These things are so much bigger than me and I am easily overwhelmed by the grief that is still very present in my life.

I mean, seriously, what mother is scared of having a baby girl?

One who has lost two baby girls already.

I don't think my anxiety is unfounded, just unnecessary. Having another daughter will not make losing Aubrey and Ellie any harder...nor will having a son make it some how easier. Either way they remain gone, and I think that is what really gets to me.

I miss my girls.

Need Information

2010-01-15T20:23:00.000-08:00

Hello blog family.

I need some help of the informational kind.

If you keep up on my posts you probably read that my doctors want to put me on progesterone injections to help prevent preterm labor. I was open to the idea but wanted to talk with the high-risk OB first before I said yes as I know practically nothing about them.

Of course, when I got home I jumped on-line to do some research. I absolutely believe in being informed and have to admit that I don't completely trust medical professionals. I am not anti-medicine by any means, but I am definitely skeptical of an underlying medical agenda that may or may not have more to do with money than what is truly in the best interest of the patient. I am not the type to follow my doctor blindly. I want ALL my decisions to be informed decisions as I am the one that has to live with them, not my doctor.

To make a long story short I would like MORE information on progesterone injections. If any of my readers have information they could pass along (ie. studies/articles/books I could read, a doctor I should call etc.) I would really appreciate it.

My main concern is that the form of progesterone used is synthetic, and that makes me nervous. Also, I cannot find any statistics or studies of how effective it is or discussing side effects/risks.

I do not feel like a very informed patient right now and I don't like that feeling. I talked to my OB on the phone today and she had nothing but vague, unsatisfactory answers for me. Hopefully the high-risk OB will have more information for me, but even still, I want more than to take my doctor's word for it.

I have a lot riding on every medical decision I make during this pregnancy. The health and safety of my baby is my top priority. And I take that very seriously. I would appreciate any help you all could throw my way.

Thanks friends.

Doctor's Appointment Update

2010-01-12T14:49:00.000-08:00

So...

I have returned home from my doctor's appointment.

And I have nothing but good news to report.

First I want to say thank you to all of you who were praying for me and standing with me today. I felt surrounded by peace and full of hope and there was no doubt in my mind that Jesus himself was in the room with me today.

I had some time to myself in the exam room waiting for the doctor. Sitting in the hospital gown I spent the silence staring at the ceiling pouring my thoughts out to God. Mostly I just told Him how much I trust Him and how deeply I want Him to be in control of every aspect of my life.

Losing Aubrey and Ellie ripped out from under me the carpet of illusion I had established my life on, some false idea that I was actually in control, when in fact I was in control of nothing. It rocked me to the core to say the least to watch helplessly as my babies slipped from me, but as God rebuilds my insecure soul, He replaced the faith I used to have in myself (the faith that failed me miserably) with a transformed and deeper faith in Him. I sat on that cold table at peace, believing that God was in control, and that is plan is better than mine could ever be.

I also had an opportunity to share my heart with God one last time about how much I wanted twins. And I really poured out my heart. As I was talking though I heard a whisper interrupt me.

It is a new baby and a new hope.

I instantly remembered the dream I had last night. In my dream an angel brought me a magic magnifying glass to see inside my belly with. When I looked inside I saw one tiny baby with a beaming smile looking back at me. All I could do was smile back in awe. I gave the magnifying glass back to the angel and before he vanished he winked at me. I was overcome with pure satisfaction.

At that moment in the exam room I let go of my expectations and had to admit to myself that I was not fully accepting my new gift. I wanted so badly to have my previous gifts back again that I was not being fully open to the new blessing God has given me, a new blessing with a new hope.

Finally the doctor came in to do the ultrasound. When the ultrasound image became clear there it was, one beautiful fluttering bean shaped baby. And I was thrilled. We looked all around for another one just in case, but it was not to be found. My little bean was by itself enjoying a little extra wiggle room.

I did not feel sadness or disappointment. I felt joy and amazement. It always blows my mind to see that little heart beating away. Life is such a beautiful thing.

It felt wonderful saying hello to my new little one, but it also meant saying goodbye again to my girls. There is no replacing them and seeing just one baby on the screen drove it home that Aubrey and Ellie are not in there and they never will be again. And even though I know that, I think I needed today to reset my expectations.

New baby, new hope.

My girls will always live in my heart and will not be forgotten ever. A new pregnancy will not erase them. But I see that I constantly need these little nudges to keep pushing me forward. I needed to see my little one on the monitor today and say hello to the new baby in my life. I needed to see what hope looks like after loss...

It is shaped a lot like a kidney bean.

I also have more courage now to embark on the high maintenance pregnancy ahead of me now. I will be giving myself progesterone shots weekly to help prevent preterm labor and will have to have an amniocentesis at week 36 to evaluate the development of my babies lungs. As soon as the baby has developed enough to be born I will have a c-section. My doctor does not even want me to go into labor. Many precautions are being taken this time around.

But I know that only God can protect my baby. And I trust Him to guide my doctors, quiet my heart, and protect the good work He has started. Little baby bean is in the best hands possible.

Thank you again for your thoughts and prayers. I was carried today by them. I am so thankful for all of you.

First Doctor's Appointment Tomorrow

2010-01-11T12:36:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow is my first ultrasound. I'm headed to Balboa Navel Hospital in the morning to meet my doctor and enroll in the high-risk prenatal group.

Balboa Navel Hospital is where my girls were born and where my Ellie died. Aubrey was transferred from there to Rady Children's Hospital and passed away there.

I have been back to Balboa a few times since my girls died and each time has been hard. I believe that my girls got the best care possible in that hospital so I don't have any resentment or fear toward the place or the doctors there, but being there always brings back tons of difficult memories.

My worst nightmare became reality there.

The morning my girls were born I stood at the reception desk 24 weeks pregnant and said, desperately hoping I was wrong,"I think I'm in labor." After failed and frantic attempts to stop my labor I was in emergency surgery and my girls came into the world, perfect and tiny...and way too soon.

I forced myself to get out of bed so that I could see my girls before the day ended. I was so afraid they would die in the night before I had a chance to see them. From my wheelchair I met my girls for the first time. I felt so helpless seeing them connected to all those tubes and monitors behind the incubator glass. And they were SO TINY. I was truly amazed and terrified at how unimaginably small they were. To this day I am still taken aback when I see pictures of them.

I remember the NICU had a very distinct odor. That sterile sent reminds me of all my hours there holding the tiny fingers of my very sick girls. I remember all the meetings with specialist and experts hypothesizing about just how sick my girls would be if they somehow survived.

From the moment Aubrey and Ellie were born until their deaths, we only got good news once...the doctors were able to resuscitate them at birth. When I woke up from surgery my girls were alive. It was an answer to prayer. I begged God to let them be alive when I woke up and they were. Sometimes I feel like that was the only prayer God heard because from that moment on, however, things unraveled. But I know that is not true. God heard every single one of my prayers.

There is a tiny room in that hospital where I held my little Ellie while she took her last breaths and left us for heaven. And a very long hallway from that room back to the NICU where my husband walked her back to her bed after she passed with me crying on his arm.

It was the last place our girls were together alive.

I don't think I will ever be able to visit Balboa and not feel sad. My whole life changed in that place. I cannot be there without being reminded of the scariest and saddest days of my life.

Tomorrow will start a new chapter there. I will walk through the doors with a new pregnancy and a new hope that this time things can and will go much better.

Truthfully I am beside myself waiting for my first ultrasound. I am dying to know how many babies are in my belly. I have had a secret hope since my girls passed away that God would bless me with twins again, ones I could keep this time. And tomorrow I will find out if my prayers have been answered. Not that I will disappointed if there is only one, I will be thankful for what God has decided. I was telling my belly in the shower yesterday not to worry, that however many babies are in there are wholly loved and fully wanted.

But I have to be honest and admit I will feel a twinge of sadness if there is not two in there as my heart has not let go of the joy I anticipated experiencing the uniqueness of twins. I still long for that very deeply and have prayed earnestly for my heart's desire. Tomorrow I will know if my prayers were answered in this pregnancy, and although I am a little nervous, I can barely stand the suspense.

Tomorrow I will post any ultrasound pictures I get and fill you in on any important information. In the meantime I would appreciate it if you would keep my baby and I in your prayers as I face the emotional challenges of returning to Balboa. It is an understatement to say that this pregnancy has been an emotional roller coaster and I don't see that changing anytime soon.

I would also appreciate it if you would hope for me when I am too afraid to hope for myself.

I am so afraid to be hurt again that at times I find myself rationalizing hope away. Don't pray for twins Rachel, a healthy baby is the only important thing. Don't ask to feel well during your pregnancy, your only request should be to go full term. Don't get specific with your prayers, don't expose the deepest desires of your heart, just pray for God's will and be ready to accept it whatever it is, even if it hurts. Don't get your hopes up, be realistic, or you are likely to be disappointed again. All these are the words fear and doubt whisper into my ear. And I'll admit, they are pretty convincing sometimes. I get so afraid to hope, I mean really hope, for anything anymore, that sometimes I hope for nothing just to avoid disappointment.

But deep down inside I know that is no way to live. And Christ came to give hope, not take it away. It is ok to hope with all my heart. It is. Hope takes faith and faith pleases God. And it isn't about hope and faith as a means to get what I want like throwing coins into a wishing well, but hope and faith as a way of obeying and pleasing God. Hope IN as opposed to hope FOR. Hope builds our relationship with Christ. Hope is intimate. Hope is the result of, not the requirement for, trust.

But when I struggle can I ask that you would stand in the gap for me and be hopeful for me? I could use the encouragement these days as I face the challenges ahead.

Leave a comment if you will stand with me. I would be delighted to hear from you and value any advice you can offer.

Getting Closer to God

2010-01-06T17:35:00.000-08:00

Do you remember that episode of Little House on the Prairie when Laura runs away to climb to the top of a mountain after the death of her little brother?

I do! It was one of my favorite episodes EVER.

If you have not seen it, let me give you a summary:

Jealous of the attention Charles showers on his newborn son, Laura longs for the place she believes she's lost in her pa's affections and angrily refuses to pray for her little brother to get well when the baby becomes seriously ill. When her newborn brother dies, Laura believes that her jealousy was responsible for his death and that her parents would rather have a son than a daughter. She decides to climb the highest hill she can find, hoping to get as close to God as possible, to ask Him to take her instead and return the baby boy to the family. While Charles and Mr. Edwards desperately search for her, Laura meets Jonathan, a mystical mountain man who seems to have been sent purposely to guide her through this life-changing experience where she learns about the power of unconditional love.

When I watched this as a young girl I had different eyes. I knew nothing of grief and loss. And I never imagined that someday I would experience the same kind of anguish that drove Laura up the mountain. Like her, after the deaths of my own babies, I desperately wanted to ask God to change things as I could not bare them as they were.

I have been climbing my mountain for a year and a half now and have yet to reach the top. It is a long way up.

But something amazing has happened to me along the way.

I am closer to God now, not because I have increased my proximity to Him, but because He has pursued me up the mountain the entire time.

Just like Laura's Pa went to find her, my Jesus set out after me when I went running away in desperation to relieve the sorrow in my soul.

And He found me.

It is an amazing gift to be found. And being lost in grief is even worse I think that being lost in some wilderness. I have been rescued. My Father came for me.

The strange thing is I am not always happy about being rescued. For a long time I really wanted to climb alone. I just didn't have it in me to buddy up with the One I felt took my girls from me. I didn't want anymore help from Him. There was so much I misunderstood about my Father's love for me.

I remember purposely keeping God at an arms length. I could feel Him near me willing to comfort me. But I didn't want to be comforted. I was hurt, but He was patient. He never gave up on me.

I think when I finally get to the top of this mountain I won't want to petition God for a different outcome anymore. At least not the one I originally set out to request. Instead of wanting my babies to come back to me, I will want to go to them.

And I might just sit at the top for a while, closer to God than I have ever been, and smile toward heaven...not because I can finally reach Him, but because He reached me. Our Heavenly Father doesn't just wait on top for us, He comes and gets us at the bottom and walks with us up the mountain.

It is in the climb that we truly get to know Him anyway.

I know God differently than I did a year and a half ago. More intimately without question. Some experiences can only be had on the sheer cliff face of the hardest climb of your life...when you are most vulnerable is when God reveals himself most powerfully. I am not sure why that is. For me I think I had to rediscover my need for a savior. And not just one to save me from my sins, but to save me from my pain.

Some things are just too much to bare alone.

In the end I realize that I am not climbing my mountain to change things, but more so to be changed...by the process and the God that guides me through it. Laura did not get her baby brother back at the top of her mountain. But she did learn of her Pa's unconditional love for her as he sough at all costs to find her and bring her home.

When I reach the top of my mountain I will not get my babies back either. My circumstances will not change. I will come down the mountain with empty arms, but not an empty heart. I will undoubtedly be profoundly changed by my Jesus who also sought at all costs to find me and, will one day, bring me home.

And my girls will be there waiting for me.

Happy New Year!

Hmmm....

2009-12-29T13:48:00.000-08:00

I have a lot of thoughts today. Ok, I have a lot of thoughts every day, but more so today, if that is even possible.

Thoughts and questions. Challenging questions.

I have ALWAYS been a question-asker. My elementary school teachers used to go crazy having me in class with all my questions. I was often told not to raise my hand again, and to let someone else have a turn. When I was little my mom knew the answer to every question I asked and I was amazed by that. I would ask her how she knew everything? She just laughed at me.

I can't help it. I like to know how things work and why. I like to understand processes and outcomes. I like to know what comes before and what comes after and what happened in the middle. I like to have all the information available.

And when I don't "get" something, it really bothers me. I have become quite proficient at finding the answers to most all my questions.

Except Why?

My questions used to be so much easier than the ones I ask now. My mom can't answer my questions anymore. And now that I am an official grown-up (I gave myself that title when I said goodbye to my baby girls as I felt that I aged fifty years in a minute losing them) I realize that my mother was not a genius, just an adult, and adults know more than kids.

But they don't know everything.

No one knows why? And try as I may, I can't find the answer on my own.

Not all questions have answers. (They didn't tell me that when I was a kid either, another "lesson" I learned losing my girls.)

But I think it is still ok to ask them.

I think I have made peace with the unaswerable why? Because I know Who.

And that is better than an answer.

Besides, I have moved on to other questions these days.

With a new baby on the way I cannot get this one question out of my head: How do I know everything will be ok?

I don't. (Did I just say that out loud?)

I don't! Sometimes I just want to scream those words at the well-meaning but ignorant people who make empty promises to me that THIS TIME everything will work out...they just know it.

They don't know anything.

I don't know anything.

I certainly HOPE and PRAY I get to bring this new baby home. I am absolutely in love with my little one already and am filled with expectations of raising another child...

I WANT THIS BABY!

But I can't be certain of anything...except HIM.

The same Jesus that walked with me then, walks with me now. The Jesus I know loves my children even more than me will keep his promise...He will make a way where I cannot...He will protect what I cannot....He will save what I cannot not....and NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS I can trust Him.

He is, was, and always will be TRUSTWORTHY.

So on a day like today, when I have a lot of questions, I quiet my heart not with the knowledge of answers, but with a real faith refined by fire...

And simply trust.

Merry Christmas!

2009-12-25T11:06:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas!

Love The Crawford Family;

Kirk, Rachel, Dustin,

Aubrey, Ellie, and baby #4!

(My necklace has Aubrey and Ellie's initials on it!)

Worthwhile

2009-12-20T18:14:00.000-08:00

Today my son got a stomach flu. Poor little guy. He had been complaining that his stomach hurt for the entire day. I thought he was just hungry. And my husband and I totally did that "stop complaining and finish your sandwich" thing, making him eat because we thought his complaining was just a ploy to get out of eating his lunch. We put him down for his nap and BLAMO! Throw up everywhere!

What is really funny is it only took five minutes or so of throw up odor and I was hanging my head over the toilet too. I held it together long enough to get my son in the bath (he even had vomit in his hair) and clean up the bathroom (my husband tackled the couch and carpet), but once I started gagging it was over. My husband had to laugh. I'll admit, it was a little funny.

These are the challenges of pregnancy unfortunately. I honestly don't get at all how I can be ravenously hungry all day, but nauseous at the same time. Why would my body ask for food only to barf it up as soon as I'm done eating? Argh!!!!

I just really don't like to feel sick. Not that anyone does, but I am probably a worse than average sick person. I like to have my energy to do and accomplish throughout the day, not just mope around unsure if I am going to actually throw up or just feel like it. It is frustrating. I want to do something to fix it, not just endure it.

I want control.

Don't we all?

I really should be thankful. This pukey inconvenience is the evidence of a miracle. Growing a baby is hard work. And it no doubt has its challenges. It is tough to be sick for months, and I know women who get way sicker than me, but I think we all have one thing in common...when we finally hold that baby it is all worth it. The nausea, the vomiting, the constipation, the gas, the heart burn, the midnight leg cramps that wake you up out of a dead sleep, the stretch marks, even labor...ALL WORTH IT!

I am going to remind myself of that the next time my head is over the toilet and try to relinquish my desire for control.

After everything, I am still learning to trust. It is so much harder than I ever imagined.

I also have another confession (as if the aforementioned was not enough personal information). I used to be one of those women who truly believed I, my efforts and will, made healthy babies. When my son was born I was convinced that I caused everything to go so well, that I knew the formula for a healthy pregnancy, birth, and baby. Of course I gave God credit, and thanked Him sincerely. But I also gave myself credit. You can imagine the shock, and eventually guilt, I felt when my girls were born too soon. I had failed them, I just knew it. It was all my fault.

It took me months to accept that it was not my fault. I did not cause the deaths of my daughters anymore than I caused the life of my son. I did not posses the control I thought I did. These things are in God's hands.

I know that is really hard for some of you to understand. I can't wrap my head around it either. But I know that it is true. God is always good, always loving, and always wise. What He allows is always for our good and His glory. That does not mean it isn't painful, but we can trust Him.

We can.

He saved my girls. Not the way I wanted Him to, but in a way I NEVER could have. Yes, it hurt me. It broke my heart completely. But I was not left with just questions and tears...I was left with a promise. THE PROMISE.

He is in control.

And He has made a way.

Isn't that what Christmas is all about?

A long time ago was a young girl, pregnant with the promised Messiah. An angle visited her and told her a baby named Jesus was growing in her womb, God's son and Savior to the world. And instead of getting upset, instead of asking why she wasn't consulted first, instead of demanding control, she simply obeyed. She trusted. God's way was her way.

And it was not an easy way. But she never stopped trusting. Because she knew He would be OUR WAY.

2000 years later I am so thankful for her obedience. Do you think she knew how far reaching it would be? Do you think that she could comprehend that centuries after that angel's visit, her first born son would be this grieving mother's only hope? She probably didn't. How could she?

But God did.

So on Christmas, God birthed a promise. The only promise never broken.

And with hindsight we can see that everything Mary endured was absolutely WORTHWHILE.

Trusting God is always worthwhile.

How far-reaching will our obedience be if we so choose it? Those of us who were not consulted either before our path was made plain...will we trust?

Trusting God does not mean we won't have pain. It won't be easy.

But it will be worthwhile.

John 16:19-23 20 I tell you the truth, you will weep and mourn while the world rejoices. You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy. 21 A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world. 22 So with you: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy. NIV

Change of Plans

2009-12-19T09:07:00.000-08:00

So, in April I wanted to do this run called the Ragnar Relay. I can't even explain to you how awesome it was going to be. A team of twelve runs 177 miles down the California coast in 24 hours. Each team member runs three different legs of the race for a total of 15 miles a piece. I have never done anything like it before. It sounded so adventurous and bold. I had my heart set on it. It was a perfect perseverance project...

But plans have changed.

I have a different perseverance project now.

One that was just sort of handed to me. An unexpected one that cannot be measured in miles nor does it have a definitive finish line. It is a completely different kind of race.

I am one of those people who always knows what the next step is going to be. I have owned (and used) a day planner since I was in junior high. I still have the day planner I used when I was pregnant with Aubrey and Ellie. On October 7th, 2008, are written the words Babies Due. I kept it and put it in their keepsake box because it represents their existence and presence in my life at the time. That planner holds the six months of hopes, dreams and plans I had with them. Sadly on July 11, 2008 are written the words Aubrey and Ellie's Funeral 11am. I certainly didn't plan that.

That was the day it finally sunk it that not all made plans happen. Having my heart set on something is not enough. Writing it in my day planner does not make it so.

Yet even today, after all I have been through, when plans change, I am still surprised. And it takes me a while to adjust. Even when it is good news.

So, in April, I won't be running the Ragnar Relay. Not because I don't want to, but my pregnant belly might be in the way!

Yes you heard right. I am pregnant. Due August 6th, 2010. How is that for a change of plans?

Pregnancy is my next perseverance project. It will be the hardest yet. Makes a half marathon seem easy.

Pregnancy after loss is entirely different. As you can imagine, I am thrilled...and nervous...and excited...and scared. And I think I have every right to be all those things. But mostly I'm soaking in every second of it (morning sickness and all) because, well, I just can't help it.

It is just who I am.

I love my children and am thankful for them whether I have them for a minute or a lifetime. The very idea of them inspires hope that even the scariest of outcomes cannot squelch. I am not an idealist, life has taught me about its harsh realities. I know better than most what could happen. I cannot forget what I have endured.

But I also know what else could happen...in August I could be holding a healthy, beautiful newborn in my arms...or maybe two? I just don't know the surprises that may be in store.

Being pregnant again makes me miss my girls more than ever though. I have been caught off guard by the strength of the emotions it has stirred up. I am still so sad. I am learning, yet again, how to live after loss. It never gets easier. There always seems to be something that triggers more pain.

But this time, along side the sorrow, is immeasurable joy. A new baby is on the way! Hope is literally growing inside me. It's amazing.

I will keep you posted as I learn more about the baby in my belly. So far I just feel icky and tired. But that is normal for me. My son seems certain that its a girl. I explained to him that God decides and he confidently told me that he is going to tell God to make it a girl. My husband is working hard to convince my son that he wants a baby brother. But I think we all agree that any baby we get to keep is fine with us.

Please keep my baby in your prayers.

Merry Christmas everyone!

I Need a Favor...

2009-12-14T10:25:00.000-08:00

I need a favor...

As you know, I live in San Diego. And it does not snow in San Diego, ever! It does rain, sometimes anyway.

I would like to have my girls' names written in the snow. It is hard to write in the rain.

Is there anyone out there who could do that for me and take a picture of it and send it to me?

Aubrey and Ellie.

Just those two names, side by side.

If I had their names in the snow, I would have their names written in each season; in the sand in summer, on leaves in the fall, on gardenias in the spring, and hopefully in the snow in winter.

I would be deeply grateful.

So amazingly deeply grateful.

The Perseverance Project

2009-12-05T19:12:00.000-08:00

I changed my blog.

Running the Race is now The Perseverance Project.

Check out my new post!

I will reveal the next "challenge" soon.

I will give you a hint. It is 177 miles long. That is one hundred and seventy seven miles.

You in?

I dare you!

Make your life a perseverance project.

Another Thoughtful Gift

2009-12-03T22:13:00.000-08:00

Thank You Holly (mommy to Carleigh) for making this!

Thank you for honoring my girls and comforting my heart.

It's just beautiful!

Sweet Encouragement/God's Provision

2009-12-02T18:40:00.000-08:00

This is the conversation my son and I had over lunch today.

"Mom, do you remember when you ran your running race?"

With a mouth full of food I nodded Yes. "Was it fun to watch mom?" I asked.

"Yeah. Some people were faster than you and some were slower than you."

"Yes, that's true." I said smiling.

"And you won!"

" Well, no, I didn't win honey."

"Yes you did. I saw you." He insisted.

"You saw me cross the finish line, Sweetie," I insisted back trying to seize an opportunity to teach him that winning wasn't the point.

"No mom, you were running for a long time and then you won."

"The important thing is to always try our best right?"

"Mom, to me you won."

"Thank you Buddy. That makes me feel good. " My heart melted inside.

He just smiled at me and finished his lunch.

There are moments in my life when the light of God's provision chases away even the darkest reminders of what has been taken from me. My son, without question, is a daily reminder of God's perfect provision in my life through all levels of hardships. Since the day I learned I was pregnant with him, he has been God's instrument of encouragement in my life.

When my husband was in Iraq for 8 months during my pregnancy, it was my growing belly that got me through the loneliness of that time.

Holding Dustin for the first time was the purest form of joy I have ever known. And that joy has only increased. Even in the difficult times, the joy remained.

There was no way I could have known that Dustin would be God's conduit of comfort during the saddest time of my life. But God did. He knew what I would need before I even needed it-grace in the form of a little blond-haired blue-eyed boy.

After Aubrey and Ellie's deaths, my love for Dustin was often the only motivation I had to heal. So much of my hard work to mend my broken heart has been for him. Trust me, I've fallen off the wagon, but I got back on because I never stopped loving my son. Holding him every day kept me going.

I think God gives us these tangible reminders because he knows we need them. Sometimes the spiritual things feel so abstract. Yet God understands. He knows our limits. And He lovingly provides us with exactly what we need.

Sometimes I don't even know what I need, but I recognize it when it arrives.

To me you won...

Those words were perfect. A gentle and much needed reminder from the Holy Spirit that I am not failing.

I am healing.

God has provided all along.

Not that God's provision takes away my pain. I still miss my girls. Nothing will fill that void until Heaven. But it does encourage me.

Before this void ever formed in my heart He made a way to fill it by providing His own son. Jesus went before me so that I can follow.

In this race I will never be first across the finish line. But I don't need to be. God will get me there in His time, not mine. In the meantime I will be confident that I have everything I need to persevere and ultimately this race is won.

I think that is really what my son was telling me.

My List

2009-11-27T10:02:00.000-08:00

My List

Let me tell you about it.

It is a list of all the things I am thankful for.

I actually started this list three and a half years ago when my son was just a baby.

My son, for the first year of life at least, NEVER slept. Seriously. It was a rough time. I was beside myself with exhaustion and frustration. Adjusting to motherhood is tough enough and throw in being married to a Marine Corps Pilot on a deployment cycle and it basically brought me to the brink.

Those were hard months. I would sit in the rocking chair in my son's nursery at two in the morning in tears as I rocked, patted or nursed him to sleep for the fourth, fifth, and sometimes eighth time.

Yes, eight times.

Trust me when I say that MY SON JUST WOULDN'T SLEEP.

One night as I sat alone with my son in my arms, exhausted and desperate, instead of just crying, I cried out to the Lord.

I need help Lord. I love my baby but I'm SO TIRED. I need relief. Help my son sleep, He needs it and I need it. What am I doing wrong? I never thought it would be this hard. And I'm so exhausted I don't even know what to do or how to do it. What should I do Lord? What should I do?

No, my son didn't instantly sleep through the night at that point. It was months and months before the sleeping issues were worked out. That was not the miracle I got that day.

In the dark quiet a thought came to my mind (put there by the Lord without question) to make a list of all the things I am thankful for and read it when I was feeling low to shift my focus. God, in his wisdom, wanted to change my heart, not my circumstances. I was dwelling on the difficult things so much that I was forgetting about all the blessings my life was full of.

So I did. I made a list the next day and read it often, even in the middle of the night, and have been doing it ever since.

My first list looked something like this:

The living written word of God, the Bible.
My beautiful and healthy little boy
My husband and his provision for our family though the privilege and honor of serving our country.
My husband's safe return home from Iraq.
Our health
Living near the ocean
The invention of the digital video recorder.
Fresh produce from the farmer's market
Green jasmine tea (basically sanity in a cup) and
Having a two car household

It wasn't an exhaustive list. There is so much to be thankful for when you really sit down and think about it. From the most lighthearted things to the most important, God's blessings are truly too many to count. But at the time, these ten things got me through that season of my life...not the actual things...but how focusing on these things (and the One who provided them) redirected my heart.

In the years since, my list has changed and grown and shrunk and grown again.

Last Thanksgiving was the first without my girls. And I can't lie, it was painful to be thankful that day. I felt that all the things I had to be thankful for all added together did not out weigh the pain of the one thing I was NOT thankful for.

My girls were not with me.

It has been a long journey for me learning how to maintain a spirit of gratitude in the midst of true pain. The sleepless nights of the first year of my son's life pale in comparison to the grief I have endured since the deaths of my daughters.

As it turns out, a ten point list would not do the trick this time. Nor would a thousand point list.

This year my list has but one point.

Not that I am only thankful for one thing, but all that I am thankful for falls under this single point.

I AM NOT ALONE.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Enjoy your holiday.

Deuteronomy 31:8 The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.