See my heart?

To try and give you a glimpse inside my mind over the last month or so (or the last year, for that matter) would only leave me short of describing the emotional roller coaster and mental battle I've had going on within me. Even though I've been told I wear my heart on my sleeve, (and tears and snot on some days) trying to explain my heart will prove to be impossible - mostly because I can't often pinpoint how I feel at most given moments. But I'll try...

Today, I walked out of the doctors office from my "nurses appointment" for the third time this year. I felt tired after listening to all the things I can and cannot do during pregnancy. My nurse was sweet. What is typically an hour long info session where the new mommy-to-be (me) gets to ask any question desired to the nurse (which was me, twice before this time), turned out to be a heart-to-heart with a woman who has watched me walk through one of the hardest years of my life. She has seen me enter a room with anticipation of a beating heart, only to walk out in tears, heartbroken from the lack of life inside me...twice. She has fielded hundreds (hundreds!) of phone calls from me, scheduling appointments, follow-up appointments, offering test results, and two tearful pre-op phone interviews, and she has offered her congratulations and her condolences.

"I was so happy to see your name on my list today, Katie. I can't wait for next week when we get to see your baby on screen again," she said as we walked out of the room.

I walked out her door and headed back down the long hall to my car, fighting back the tears from the love I just felt from a seemingly total stranger. As I was walking, with my bag of books and pamphlets and samples in hand, I saw another door that I've frequented this year - the door to the Surgi-Center where I had both of my post-miscarriage procedures done. I nearly lost my breath as I remembered the last time I walked in those doors, swollen, red eyes, exhausted from my sleepless night before. What finality those doors signified.

And I wondered if I would have to walk through them again soon...

I looked ahead, and kept walking. I felt such tremendous peace and knew I wanted to write about that moment. Why? Why do I share my heart so willingly, exposing my raw pain in detail?

Here's why...

One. I need to keep reminding myself. At some point in my painful journey, I've understood the truth of Christ and really believed in that hope. And at other times, I fail to understand truth, and avoid seeking Christ for help. So I write it down for me. When I'm doubting that truth, I can go back and read what I have known to be true at one point and remind myself that there is Someone else in this with me who can confidently take one foot and put it in front of the other because He's marked that path.

Two. So you (my three or four loyal readers) can see who is guiding my journey. If I wrote this story myself, I'd probably have spoiled the ending already. Thankfully, I'm not the author of my life. I see a new chapter unfold daily and because its such a mystery to me, I KNOW it must be from God. And I want you to see Him.

Three. Because I don't want to miss it. I heard this phrase used this year by a father who had just lost his son. His faith was so solid that he KNEW that something that made so little sense to him had to have a holy purpose, and he didn't want to miss seeing that purpose. And I don't want to miss it either. When I'm buried in diapers and dreadfully tired (Lord willing), I don't want to forget what it felt like to walk past those doors today. I don't want to forget what it feels like to be on my knees in thanksgiving because of a beating heart.

Four. For my babies. Maybe one day, they can read their mom's words and will know the extent of my love for them, and how it pales in comparison to their Heavenly Father's love for them.

April 7th.

I've heard a lot of things that mom's appreciate while their kids are growing up - things that they are thankful for that they don't want to take for granted. Some as little as a certain type of pacifier or a special "miracle blanket." Some may say its that show that gives them the thirty minutes of peace and quiet. Others will breath the words, "I'm so thankful she wasn't hurt more," or "I'm so glad there's a treatment for that."

And one day, I pray I'll get to that point where I have those things to be thankful for.

But I'm thankful I'm here in this place, on the original due date of our second baby, with just one small thing to be thankful for.

A heartbeat...of our third baby.

And I will never take it for granted.

Praying for the Carpenters

This is 3 months old Graham Carpenter, whose short life ended yesterday. His mother, Shelly, wrote on her facebook status this morning that they were "living a nightmare." Throughout the tragedy in my life, God has used people like Shelly to intercede and approach the throne in prayer on my behalf and when I didn't have the strength to. And now I'm asking you to do that with me for Shelly and her family.

Hope.

Oh, 2009.

I still can't believe the year we've had. Although the memories of 2009 still seem as vivid as if they happened yesterday, looking back on a year ago seems so far away. God has done amazing things in my life - things that made no sense to me at all - and He was sovereign through it all.

I could view this year with some stats and feel pretty hopeless; two failed pregnancies, months of unemployment, countless new babies being born all around me, numerous months of trying to get pregnant, and a broken furnace to top the year off (a pricey replacement). And although I could throw my hands up and say "Good riddance, 2009!" because of what it seemed to cost me, I think I'd rather view this year through a different lens....a lens of hope.

Two failed pregnancies can look like two little lives that have impacted so many others - that are worshipping at Jesus' feet at this very moment. That's hope.

Months of unemployment can look like a summer of counting my blessings and seeing ALL that I have...and all I don't deserve. That's hope.

All the new babies around me can look like lives that glorify God that will be raised to join His Kingdom. That's hope.

I'm still breathing. I have a home. My husband loves me. I am a child of God. Hope, hope, hope and hope.

"I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us."
- Romans 8:18

Born to reign in us forever

Come, Thou long expected Jesus
Born to set Thy people free;
From our fears and sins release us,
Let us find our rest in Thee.
Israel's strength and consolation,
Hope of all the earth Thou art;
Dear desire of every nation,
Joy of every longing heart.

Born Thy people to deliver,
Born a child and yet a King,
Born to reign in us forever,
Now Thy gracious kingdom bring.
By Thine own eternal Spirit
Rule in all our hearts alone;
By Thine all sufficient merit,
Raise us to Thy glorious throne.

Dear Glory Baby,

My sweet child, I can't help but think about the moments I would be having on this day had God not taken you to heaven before I could even lay eyes on you. This date, your due date, will forever remind you of the heavenly life you're living, having been spared of the pain life on this earth can often bring. I am embracing, in new ways everyday, the blessing that it is to know that the same thing that brings me pain and sadness is giving you life with the Father that loves you more than I am capable of loving you...and that, my baby, is a lot.

For the last 9 months I've thought about holding you, rocking you, being the only person who can calm your cry. And now, on the day that was all supposed to happen, I can only think about the heavenly arms holding you today. And He will be everything you will ever need your whole life.

This date provides such a sweet reminder that God chose you, little one, to work in your mama's life, and in the lives of hundreds of other people who know of your conception. I am blessed to be the mother of a child whose life has held so much meaning and one of the most significant sources of hope for many people who have dealt with loss, who are walking through it now, and who will face it in the future. You, sweet baby, are a tool used by God and it required not even one breath breathed by you on this earth.

Now, as you worship in heaven with your younger sister, know that your mom and dad see the love of God in new and precious ways because of your life. I promise to think of you every year on this day and celebrate your life in heaven...indeed a small celebration compared to the party you are having in heaven daily. We will choose daily not to waste your life by giving in to sadness and despair, but instead, rejoicing in the promises of our Savior that it will not easy, but we will not do it alone.

God is good. And I know that more because of you, sweet child. Mom and dad love you just as we will love any of your siblings we may know on this earth.

Happy Birthday, Glory baby.

I love you,

Mom

out of the mouths of babes....

I think God uses children to share emotions and encouragement that sometimes, we adults, could sure learn from. They are so honest and sincere and are blessed to not be burdened about "saying the right thing". I've been blessed by several kids in my life over the last 9 months that I thought I'd bless you (three) with. Some will make you smile (as they did for me) and some may make you cry (as they also did for me). Maybe it will help in how you encourage someone who is hurting.

"Miss Katie, I'm sorry your baby died." - Jenna G. (5yrs)

"Auntie Katie, you don't got a baby in 'der anymore?" (followed by a gentle touch on my belly and big hug) - Wyatt (3yrs)

Haylie (3yrs): "Why is Aunt Katie Lynn so sad?"
Mother-in-law: "Well, God took her baby to heaven."
Haylie: "Well, I'm gonna ask Him to give it back."

**Prior to the next conversation, I shared with Jenna that we really only had a few girls names picked out and we even talked about naming the baby after her (which made her smile).**
Jenna: "Mom, I know why Miss Katie's baby died"
Heather: "Why, Jenna?"
Jenna: "Because the baby was a boy, and Miss Katie really wanted her Jenna Claire. So God took it."

"Miss Katie, I'm sorry your baby died again." - Jenna G.

Wyatt: "Auntie Katie, you sad because your baby died?"
Me: "Yeah, bud."
Wyatt: "Where is your baby?"
Me: "In heaven with Jesus."
Wyatt: "We get you a new baby."
Me: "Oh yeah? how?"
Wyatt: "We get some tape, and a band-aid (pretending to put a band-aid on my belly) and we get you a new one."
Me: "Where will we get a new baby?"
Wyatt: "From Gramma's belly."

Jenna: "Miss Katie, I know why your baby died."
Me: "Why, Jenna?"
Jenna: "Because Jesus needed more babies up there with him in heaven."

"Auntie Katie, I get you another baby from the hospital." - Wyatt