Trusting God's Heart...

So much left of your story

2012-02-12T22:56:00.000-08:00

My Precious Eden,

Tonight I wrote about what it was like to hold your baby sister in my arms for the first time.

I still miss you so much. I am still grateful for every second of your short little life. I wish you were tearing things apart with Zoe, but every day I see more and more of God's plan with you, and I know He has even more in store than I will ever understand.

I wish I could kiss you goodnight and smell your damp hair.

Someday, in eternity...

~Mama

"Yet still, hearing her precious cry and looking into her little face for the first time...those were nothing compared to that first moment where I could lay her on my chest and just drink her in.

Holding God's promise, skin to skin, in the quiet curtained space...I will never forget."

Trapeze Day

2011-10-14T10:36:00.000-07:00

Eden,

I didn't get to write for your birthday yesterday. Not because I wasn't thinking about you, every second, but because life keeps going.

In the midst of your baby sister learning to stand, your bigger siblings doing school work, a major heat wave and daddy's interview...I remembered you.

I cried from such a dark place yesterday, the place that will never be whole because you celebrate every birthday in the arms of Jesus.

How can it have been four whole years since you breathed your first...and last?

How can there be a person in this family who never, ever met you?

How can Zoe have a sister who is just a story and some pictures?

If it's even possible, I miss you more this year than in years past. I am aching to remember the feel of your tiny body in my arms. To smell your sweet baby smell. To hear your little coos.

I have prayed a million times that I would get to hold you, just one more time. But if I ever got that one more? I'd just want another.

You are still so much a part of me, and of our world. You are still remembered by so many. Remembered an honored. Your legacy lives in trees, in bibles, in lives transformed, in souls saved...and still, you are so far from me.

Oh, my heart aches for more time with you.

Today I will remember you, fully alive. Today I will celebrate that you lived! I will celebrate by living myself. By remembering. By worshiping the God who gave you to me, even if it was for such a brief time.

I love you baby girl. So much. Forever.

Love,

Mama

Glimpses

2011-04-30T16:34:00.000-07:00

I know I won't know the end of the story until I am standing face to face with Jesus.

I know I won't see the brilliance of God's plan or the wisdom in His decisions, in regard to Eden, until eternity.

I know this. But still, I am blessed when God gives me just the tiniest glimpse and I see reason behind what felt so wrong.

Every year, at the start of the school year, my husband sits in his classroom and asks God to help him find "just one kid" who he can share Jesus with. He asks God to help him see the students through the eyes of eternity. Every year.

When you pray like that, you always see the broken kids. You see the ones who support their families while still in high school. You see the ones who have a closer relationship with social workers than parents. You see the ones with everything stacked against them. You think "Oh, it's going to be that one."

God sees something different.

God sees the kid with the good parents and the nice life who laughs and surfs and hangs out with her daddy...he sees the needs deep in the heart of that kid. The kid who seems to have it "all together". God knows that he longs to love every student who walks through those classroom doors. That the broken kids are all the kids living without Him.

So God sets the appointments that He sees fit. At the times that work for each student.

God sits the nice surfer girl, with an idea that all Christians are judgmental and uptight, in a history class with a loud, funny, slightly irreverent teacher during the school year that will mark the most difficult time in his life.

That girl watches her teacher struggle with the death of his baby girl and listens to him share about a faith that remains, even when he doesn't understand what God is doing. She laughs at his jokes and helps him grade papers. She sees him with his family and gets to know his kids and wife.

She somehow becomes more than student, and becomes part of the family.

And three years later, that same girl, is standing in a baptismal, crying her eyes out with joy over her relationship with Christ. Ready to make a public commitment...and she's standing there with her dad!

If losing Eden helped to bring our good friend Brenna into a relationship with Christ, and into our family, it was worth it.

Eden is with Jesus for eternity...and now Brenna will be too.

2011-01-27T22:18:00.000-08:00

Dear Eden,

Yesterday your baby sister smiled at me. It was the sweetest, crooked smile. The kind that they like to draw in cartoons. I smiled right back and then I was just the littlest bit sad...she smiles like you did.

You smiled, and I know those smiles were involuntary but what a blessing that they came more frequently in your final hours. That you smiled at your big sister and she will always hold that in her heart.

I still miss you. There is still someone missing in our home, but the soul crushing ache seems to be a bit less when I hold the baby sister who never got a chance to know you.

She also has the same little puffy spots just under her eyes. You two are the only ones who have that. It's very special. I love to see that she looks a little like you, in a special way.

I always tell people she is my 5th baby. You are still the fourth baby and you have not been forgotten or replaced in our hearts or minds.

I still miss you so much, I wish I could hold you again. I wish you were running around, making messes and creating chaos with the others. I can scarcely imagine what you and Jack would do together. We all miss out by having had to say good-bye so soon.

Good night sweet baby. I miss you so much,
Mommy

Ornaments

2009-12-07T10:03:00.000-08:00

It's quiet in the house. Only the sound of rain falling outside and my kids laughing in it can be heard as I steal this moment to sit in front of the Christmas tree with my coffee in hand.

All the ornaments went up last night in a blur of excitement from three children that see the magic hanging from every hook. We talked about the meaning and reasons for each special one.

The puppet from the first Christmas I spent with my husband, then fiancee. A small tree in his apartment bedroom with the magical chasing lights and simple ball ornaments. Crammed in on Christmas Eve opening gifts with his roommates.

The ark from the year we knew we would be heading into parenthood and what that dream would mean.

The light up churches that reflect a that peace and hope I have always found within the sanctuary walls at our little home church. Ornaments that belonged to my husbands father, celebrating with Jesus in heaven for these last 11 Christmases.... the memories attached to these wood and resin trinkets go on and on.

Finally we got to the most special ornament of them all... A framed photo of a little girl that I would love to hold in my lap and chase from the tree, but who joins her Papa Dewey in celebrating Jesus' Birthday in his presence.

Merry Christmas little one.

Another Birthday

2009-10-13T20:24:00.000-07:00

I can't help but wonder when I will know what to expect. Last year was sad but still a celebration of the sweet girl who changed our world...today was nothing but raw and painful. I spent the better part of today lost and terrified of the heaviness that washed over me. I felt little comfort from my loving God who opened up the sky to weep with me.

My older children shook with sobs that came from so deep they gladly went to bed an hour early.

It was just heavy and hard.

She never stops being gone. She's never coming back.

While I take great comfort in knowing each year brings us closer to reunion, it also takes us further from hello.

I miss my little girl so much.

Love Letter

2009-08-02T21:43:00.000-07:00

It starts so simply...and then God in his abundance, finishes it so amazingly!

About two months after Eden's initial diagnosis, well into my journey, I was introduced to another mother destined to have to make the same types of decisions for her ill, not yet born, son.

There is something special about sharing with another member of our exclusive club. We share the lows, the highs, the good and the very honest and ugly parts. We understand what it is to rail at and into the arms of God. We hold each other together while still a mess ourselves. It is a beautiful thing really. Beautiful in it's raw emotion.

We cemented a bond that is beyond this life, which is wonderful considering we are separated by an entire country and had only met online, introduced by one of our dear friends that I, again, had only met online.

For months and months we have shared each step of our shared path, stopping along the way to get down in the dirt with the other...or to hold out a hand to help the other up. Sharing tea, and tears, and laughter...all through a little box on the desk.

In my dreams I wondered if we would ever meet this side of heaven. I doubted we would, but I hoped.

And then all of a sudden it was happening! A gift from God, given through a wonderful friend and I was on a plane to surprise this dear woman with whom I had shared so much. And for 4 days I sat in kitchens and living rooms on the other side of the continent and learned what it meant to love Canada with my whole heart.

I laughed in grocery stores and cried for the joy of new-but-not-really friends.

So, once again, God gives me a beautiful gift out of one of my darkest hours. It is so amazing to be loved so fully by the creator of the heavens and the earth.

Two Months

2009-03-17T11:24:00.000-07:00

It's not that I have anything particularly profound or exciting to say, just the idea that it's been two months since I last updated this blog makes my heart break a little.

Here I am, Eden's mother, and all I can really do to tend to her, or care for her, is keep this blog...and for two whole months there has been silence.

Eden died 17 months and two days ago. An amazing little girl who profoundly changed me, and who's influence in this world is immeasurable, has been away from it for nearly a year an a half. Sometimes it feels like a lifetime ago I held her in my arms and kissed her sweet bowed lips. Sometimes it's as if I just said good bye.

There are days when the ache in my heart is enough to make me wish this whole world would just stop so I could be reunited with her again, when living one more day without my baby girl seems like a burden to heavy to bear.

And yet there are others, where the joy and honor over having been trusted with the responsibility of being Eden's mother is overwhelming in it's own right.

The truth is there is great blessing in the midst of this journey that I still walk everyday, and that much of that blessing comes from up out of the ashes of hope.

So today I am taking a moment to nurture this mother's heart, the heart that longs for first steps and first words... not memories of final breaths and last goodbyes. I am taking a moment to parent Eden in the only way I can, in my heart and mind, and dreams.

A Repost

2009-01-07T09:59:00.000-08:00

From my other blog:

Sanctity of Human Life Week is coming. A time to stand up and be heard about the inherent value in all human beings. A brief moment set aside to, not just decry abortion, but to speak to the value of the life contained in the womb.

I remember the first time I heard about abortion and being horrified at the mere idea of it. I remember joining a protest on the whim. Just a child, not much older than my oldest son. I also remember that it sent a lighting bolt in my home. My mother not at all pleased that I would take a stand on an issue I couldn't fully understand.

She was right, I didn't understand it all. I didn't understand what would drive a woman to make such a choice, I saw a selfish desire to just "do away" with a mistake.

As I grew into adulthood and saw a more human face on abortion, my view didn't change much. The slogan "Abortion stops a beating heart" always rang in my ears. My heart broke for the desperation some women, some girls, felt when choosing to end the life of their unborn.

I listened as semantics were juggled and words like tissue, fetus, potential for life were used. I tried to understand the idea of a starting point for humanness... but still I saw the pictures I had seen as a young girl of discarded babies and brain couldn't understand how this choice would be good for anyone.

Then on May 17 2007 I was told that the baby I was carrying would die. I was encouraged to abort and everything I knew and believed and felt changed. I struggled through the idea that I may end a pregnancy of a baby not destined to live.

Once again though, I saw the pictures of those discarded babies and couldn't bring myself to make that choice.

In making that choice I discovered that my mother had been right all those years ago. That there was much to this debate I couldn't fully understand.

I also realized how sacred life really was. Eden, my baby girl, did die just 36 hours after her birth, but in those 36 hours I saw her fully realized humanness. That even as one profoundly damaged, her worth was immeasurable. Being her mother changed me in so many ways, changes I welcome and embrace. Eden's life changed many people and pointed to a God beyond description. Eden's short life, lived outside of my womb for such a brief instant, was a life filled with purpose and rejoicing. And I life that still effects people today.

All I Want For Christmas

2008-12-05T20:53:00.000-08:00

Yesterday morning, when I started this post, my kids were watching I Love Lucy. It's one of their favorite shows and I am fairly certain I have now seen every episode a dozen times.

Thursdays are always pretty slow since we are out late the night before.

Back to the Ricardo's...

So this is the episode where Lucy discovers she is pregnant and is trying to tell Ricky in some sweet and amazing way.

I never got to do that. I was always just way too excited to stage a big reveal.
This episode wasn't sweet or funny yesterday. This episode tore at my heart and soul. My arms aching for Eden and my womb aching for the baby it should be carrying.

I have had people suggest to me that this was all "for the best" and maybe God just "wants me to be done."

Was that what God wanted for Elisabeth as her soul ached for a child?

How can someone put reasoning into the desire for a child. No, maybe it's not logical but my very being crys out for a baby to hold in my arms. To nurse . To love. To adore.

When you have been a parent, and watched them grow and shared every parenting joy and frustration, and you think that you are stepping onto that roller coaster again...and suddenly the ride stop...you know what you have lost. You know what you are not going to experience.

Tonight my family walked over to see Santa, and as we stood in line, Jack yelling from twenty feet away "Hi Santa! Lego Star Wars!", I struck up a conversation with the family behind me and played with their beautiful little girl. All cozy in her pink footie pajamas, I watcher her smile at Noah and play with my camera and suddenly my heart broke all over again.

Unexpectedly, it all came rushing to the surface. My heartbreak, my loss, my desperation.

I miss my baby girl.

Thankful

2008-11-29T20:16:00.000-08:00

When I wrote this line in my other blog I knew I needed to grab a cup of coffee and come sit in this special place and think some more... write some more... about who God is showing Himself to be to me.

I wrote :

I make a choice everyday to serve and love God when my circumstances seem bleak, because I want God to be made strong in my weaknesses... I think weaknesses make God excited to really show off His strength and glory.

I know I have written before about my choice to serve, love, and worship God when in the midst of a struggle. In the midst of pain. Yet, each day i learn there is so much more to this choice and that it transforms, not just me, but my whole world. This choice has ripples that I may never see, but I know they exist.

Recently, just after the loss of our last pregnancy, one of my husband's students wrote to him that she was angry with God. that this seemed cruel to her and how could He... all things I felt in the midst of our loss. Things my husband felt.

It broke my heart for her because I don't think she knows Him. That she can turn to Him with these questions. I did. I wept bitter tears and threw out a lament to rival King David. I felt forsaken, betrayed.

Yet, in my utter brokenness and heartbreak, God revealed His great strength because my weakness was great. He stepped down from a place of glory and got in the dirt with me to lift me up.

I have no "why" that I can find. They have been offered by some, but I believe there is really no "why" there is an "is" that God wants to use as refinement and glory and to show something to the world beyond myself and my family.

God is showing that He can still be glorified when there is no "why'. He is showing that the miracles are still there and the biggest ones happen on the inside. He could have healed Eden. he could have stepped in to protect and restore my pregnancy. He didn't. But He DID step in to restore my soul. My heart. My faith. Physical healing is amazing and has it's place and is NOT something He withholds, it is available everyday... the healing of a spirit is beyond what eyes can see and so rarely labeled as a miracle...but I can tell you as one who is walking it, it is so much so. In my life and soul, almost more so.

At Peace

2008-11-05T22:19:00.000-08:00

The thoughts in my head are all jumbled and not linear or particularly intelligible but it is clear that one thing has happened to me tonight... God, the creator of all the universe, has met me in my dark and desperate place of need. He has come to sit and share a cup of tea and offer me understanding.

He has shown himself to a desperate and broken child and revealed His great love for me. Not His plan, but His love.

I don't need to know the whys as long as I can trust the love, and that trust faltered this week. Faltered and nearly shattered, but has once again been restored, refreshed , and renewed.

God, in His great love and compassion gave me the time to mourn and the time to be angry and let me pour it all out at His feet...and then he scooped me into His immense Fatherly lap and, rather than cuddle me in my brokenness, spoke to me like a woman and child of His and reassured me of His immensity and His sovereignty.

He did not let me slip into a pit of resentment, no matter how tempting, He just revealed Himself once again to me.

Poured out another portion of joy and intimacy and loved me.

I am once again, gleefully under the shadow of His wing and nestled up to Him for my comfort.

Thank you God for loving me through my weakness and showing your strength overwhelmingly.

Can scarcely speak the words

2008-11-03T19:28:00.000-08:00

It is with a heavy heart that I write that my pregnancy has ended.

To say say we are devastated is an understatement. My mind cannot seem to reconcile this heartbreak so soon after the first birthday of Eden. This loss has shaken my faith to it's very core, yet almost despite myself, I can still see God trying to show me compassion...

The ultrasound last Thursday showed that, while I was pregnant, a baby had never formed. This is key for me at this point. Our loss is still great, visions of a sumer spent with a newborn in our arms are gone, and we mourn them. We mourn the sleepless nights and first smiles. We mourn the dreams we had for our family. Yet for me, if I were mourning another child who lived and died before I ever got to really know it, I'd be broken in wholly different ways.

I am glad I wrote so much of God revealing himself to me in the darker times in Eden's life because I need the reminders.

Please continue to pray for us as we struggle through this new heartbreak.

No longer ordinary

2008-10-28T19:45:00.000-07:00

Since I am not actually posting this tonight, I should probably note that tonight, is Tuesday October 28th.

I'm not sure where this goes either...this blog? A place so devoted to the lessons and journey through faith that came from my sweet little Eden. Or is it better posted in my other blog? Somewhere where I am trying to live my faith out loud in my reality.

In the end, I think it goes here. Much of this particular story is directly influenced by Eden's life and death.

Tonight My husband and I decided to share a secret with out three living children. A secret we have been keeping for nearly a month.

Tonight we told them that we are, once again, expecting.

I think they almost melted from the sheer joy. My daughter especially. Eden was supposed to be her special gift. Her only sister thus far, born just two days after her birthday.

Her heart craves that sibling even more so than her brothers. She craves a sister most of all...and for lots of reasons I hope this baby is a girl. Never to replace Eden, but to meet a significant need in all of us.

There was joy tonight in the announcement. Joy even from the little one. And lots of jokes. A few times my children started or ended with "If this one lives.". It was the most innocent and non jaded ways it could ever be said, but it cut me to the quick. I don't even think they think this baby may not make it, but they don't live in a world where all babies come home either.

It both breaks my heart and makes me glad as well. Breaks my heart that so young this their reality, but so glad that this house is a safe place to talk about such things. That it's not a secret fear or dread.

So once again I covet your prayers. We all do. Prayers for a healthy baby. A safe delivery...and so much more.

God's grace is heavy here but the enemy whispers words of fear and dread almost constantly.

And now an update on Thursday October 30th:

Not even 24 hours after we told the kids and within hours of telling my mother and my pastors wife , I noticed some unusual things happening with my body. So this morning I had my first OB appointment.

My dr seemed rather unconcerned given the size of my uterus but, with "spotting" and such we opted for an ultrasound.

What we saw was neither good, nor horribly bad. A fetal sac in the right size and shape, but no little kidney bean.

What this means is that, either I was just a little too early to see the baby, or...and my heart breaks to say it... there is no baby.

Needless to say I left the office thick with emotion. "How could something like this be happening after all we have been through?"

I can't help but wonder, what is the lesson? What is the plan?

The mood is not bright in our house today but I can feel, somewhere at the fringes of by battered heart, I can feel God reaching to comfort me. To tell me...something.

God still has dominion over this pregnancy. He can still reveal a healthy little baby. I can still hold this baby in my arms this summer.

My faith and hope tell me these things but my heart is having trouble truly believing them.

I am begging for and coveting your prayers. I am oing in again next week and hope with all the hope I can muster to see a little miracle.

One very amazing year

2008-10-15T09:36:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago someone asked me how I planned to remember Eden this week. At the time my husband and I had made no solid plans but knew that what we really wanted to do was just be together as a family...

One of the things I said to my friend was that really, I wanted to fill the house with flowers and celebrate her.

We have had flowers in the house ever since I returned from the hospital. Flowers from friends filled the house in the weeks following , but as they slowly died and the number dwindled it became something that we could do to remember her.

We have a spot in the living room that always has flowers. Something bright and beautiful and cheery... we make a choice to remember the joy rather than the pain with these flowers.

So I just wanted to fill the house with them. So many that I wouldn't know where to put them. Roses, daises, lilies...

I only mentioned this to one person, not even my husband, but one person in another country.

Monday morning when I woke up there was a vase of flowers and a plate of cookies. Happy flowers with an adorable pink bow. My husband had discovered them outside our door that morning. It felt wonderful to have such a thoughtful gift, even if there was no card. Later We received flowers from some very special friends of mine and I smiled at my two beautiful vases of flowers. I slightly remembered the conversation about the house full of flowers.

Tuesday was still a special day. Tuesday was the anniversary of, not the day Eden was born, or the day she died, but the day she lived. In the hours after Eden's birth I was obsessed with time. Each new hour was another hour she had lived and breathed on this earth. When the clock hit midnight I was ecstatic to know that when her name was written the date of her birth and death would be different... And when we reached midnight again, to know there was a whole day that she simply lived was almost more of gift than I could ask for.

Tuesday there were once again flowers and treats left for us. I cried. More bright and cheery flowers to mark this special day. When I brought the vase inside I found a lovely necklace with a silver E wrapped with the bow.

And today, more flowers and brownies. This time a card. Filled with love from friends who loved my little girl right along with me. Who now carry a precious child of their own.

It means so much to me to have her remembered and it brings smiles and happy tears to see my house filled with love...and Eden's flowers.

October 15th

2008-10-14T20:32:00.000-07:00

Also from my other blog:

Tomorrow is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day, a day that I once knew nothing about and even if I had I wouldn’t have really paid attention.

One of the things I realized in the last few years is that, especially in western culture, we are so silent about death, about grief, and especially so about the grief of lost babies. It’s one of those things that people fear to talk about and so often just don’t acknowledge.

I have been blessed beyond measure that my sweet Eden has been celebrated and talked about and cried over openly. She is not a secret we just never mention. Her photograph hangs on my wall with her brothers and sister and doesn’t cause anyone to wince or become uncomfortable. I think it would actually make my friends and guests more uncomfortable if her picture wasn’t there.

So tomorrow I will light my candle in remembrance of some very special little people whom are greatly missed here on earth. Eden, Nathan, The Twins, Krista’s babies, The Triplets and so many more…

First Birthday

2008-10-13T17:07:00.000-07:00

This post is taken from my other blog...

Today there is a sense that there is great expectation about something amazing and heartbreaking...

In reality I have shed several happy tears today. Been frustrated by some people. And had a lovely surprise on my doorstep early this morning...

Last week I received a card from The March Of Dimes because a good friend donated in my Beautiful Daughter's name. Standing at the mailbox I wept happy tears that, even a year later, Eden's life mattered to people who never got a chance to know her. That loving her didn't require actually meeting her. That a short little life could impact and change people.

Mostly I am just happy when she is remembered. Not as a sad footnote, but as a little girl who was celebrated.

Being Eden's mother has changed me in ways I never could have imagined and I am hardly the same person I was a year ago, and I scarcely recognize who I was two years ago.

This past year has been filled with a pain deeper than any I ever believed I could endure. I have watched my children and my husband weep from so deeply I thought they might never stop, I have wondered if I would ever cease to ache.

But in the midst of all of that God has revealed himself to me new, nearly everyday.

I don't know if I will ever understand why God denied the pleas of so many of His children. Why standing and silently saying no fit His plan better. And I believe I will always wonder about that... but still, I know that God is who He says He is. That His plan is perfect and that I have seen what true peace is. That I have lived it, felt it, breathed it.

The enemy has come many times to whisper in my ear about an impotent or uncaring God. He has poured salt in the deep wounds of my grief. He has attempted to shake me free of my faith many times.

And when he has, I have found renewed strength and renewed faith in the utter holiness of Eden's final breath. I can scarcely look back at that time without seeing all of heaven weeping as I handed my daughter into her Father's arms.

I have been through even more trials since I had to submit to the will of God and love Him while his actions hurt. I am in the midst of one even still. But when Satan tries to tempt me into depression and resignation I am empowered in my faith by remembering 36 holy hours that He gave me with my little one.

36 hours in which my baby girl cooed, cried, peed on so many nurses and guests, and proved her full humanness by getting cranky when she was unswaddled or cold. 36 hours in which I got to cuddle and love her. 36 hours that are so removed from everyday that they are almost like a dream, though they are forever etched in my memory.

So today is not a sad day. Today is a day I rejoice that God chose me. Trusted me with a difficult choice.

Today I remember her beautiful bowed lips and her feisty attitude, and celebrate the first birthday of my precious Eden.

I love you sweet girl. My arms ache for you everyday but my heart is happy to have gotten to love you!

Conversation

2008-08-15T11:36:00.000-07:00

Noah: Why are you crying?

Me: I'm thinking about your sister.

Noah: Phoebe? Why is that making you cry?

Me: Your other sister.

Noah: Oh, Eden.

Me: Yep. I think about her a lot

Noah: But why are you crying?

Me: Because she died 10 months ago today.

Jack; (playing with his Star Wars guys) Eden died.

Me: Yes she did.

Jack: And her did go to heaven?

Me: Yes. She's in heaven. And I miss her and that makes my heart sad.

Jack: It makes my dad sad too.

Me: Yes it does.

Jack: (goes back to playing with Star Wars guys)

Nine months

2008-07-15T10:57:00.000-07:00

This seems like such a huge milestone. I guess when you have carried and birthed four babies nine months becomes a very significant period of time.

I think the thing about losing Eden is that it never stops, I never stop "losing" her. She is always gone, always separated from me. I won't ever hold her in my arms and nurse her to sleep. I will never hear her giggle or see her smile. I can never braid her hair or dress her in frilly clothes. Every second of every day she is gone.

I was reading Psalm 119 to my kids the other day and could barely choke out this part of the passage...

81 I am worn out waiting for your rescue,
but I have put my hope in your word.
82 My eyes are straining to see your promises come true.
When will you comfort me?
83 I am shriveled like a wineskin in the smoke,
but I have not forgotten to obey your decrees.
84 How long must I wait?

The psalmist captures my heart and soul in that passage, my anguish and my exhaustion. My longing to hold the child I had to let go of far too soon...

Yet I cling to God for in Him alone can I and do I find the strength to smile and live and enjoy the life I have yet to live.

89 Your eternal word, O Lord,
stands firm in heaven.
90 Your faithfulness extends to every generation,
as enduring as the earth you created.
91 Your regulations remain true to this day,
for everything serves your plans.
92 If your instructions hadn’t sustained me with joy,
I would have died in my misery.
93 I will never forget your commandments,
for by them you give me life.
94 I am yours; rescue me!
For I have worked hard at obeying your commandments.
95 Though the wicked hide along the way to kill me,
I will quietly keep my mind on your laws.
96 Even perfection has its limits,
but your commands have no limit.

I know there is still so much work to be done. So much more to be dealt with. So much more grief to endure...but I am confident that my Jesus will carry my through and protect my bleeding and wounded heart.

Blindsided...and rambling

2008-07-03T23:52:00.000-07:00

Sometimes the emotions hit me at the oddest moments...

They make sense in moments like yesterday when I took down my youngest son's crib and put it away, thinking the whole time that I should still be using the crib, not making room for it under his "big boy bed". When I look at a pile of no longer needed baby things and feel heartsick that I have to figure out where to donate them...

But just now, I logged on to write about the transition and found Nicky's comment unmoderated so never published, on my last post. And I cried.

I cried mostly because I don't do that. I don't imagine what would have been very often because it hurts just so much. And honestly, I am stuck with the imagining of what we would have done to announce her healing. That one I see so clearly. That one I see almost as a memory...but it isn't a memory. It's a dream.

Someone gave me an outfit for her shortly after the diagnosis...Embroidered on the front of a cute white onesie in pink letters "I am a miracle". I searched for the perfect pink pants to match in just the right shade...eventually Nicky found them. I packed them in my hospital bag, but at the bottom. I imagined putting my perfectly formed baby in that outfit and just having that picture flashed on the overhead at church Sunday morning. I can still hear the collective gasp and applause that would have gone out. I can still feel the warmth radiating out of all those euphoric faces. To be in the church where great and miraculous healings occur. I can hear the worship songs...

I imagine my pastor. A strong and mighty man of God beaming with reverence at the power of Mighty God, instead of forlorn and broken by the disappointment of a healing denied.

And these images haunt me sometimes.

I told my husband, driving down the 405 freeway towards the delivery that I believed 100% that Eden would be healed. I was giddy with the excitement of it.

I broke when he looked at me in the OR and shook his head, tears in his eyes. I just broke in that moment. I asked God to heal her still, but I knew we'd received His answer, and it was no.

I knew I had to choose to keep living in that brief second. Not physically, but spiritually. I knew I had to ask myself if I could still trust and hope and believe in all of who God was in that second. Upon choosing him he held together that which had broken in me... My heart, my spirit, and in someways... my faith. He began to repair it even then, but what was still broken He held.

I don't talk much about the really ugly parts because I want more than anything to allow God to be glorified in my life. In this experience. There are ugly moments though...and here are a lot of them.

I think in someways the hurt is harder now. It is duller and not as sharp and stabbing, but it is exhausting. To know that I will always grieve...everyday...somedays seems like too much. To know that certain worship songs will continue to stick in my throat for weeks, and months, and years makes me want to pull the covers over my head and just stay there.

I picture her in heaven a lot. Dancing in the flowers. Jesus giggling and smiling at her. And I am so glad she is with Him and I am so happy for her...I just wish we weren't seperated.

Missing You

2008-06-10T13:06:00.000-07:00

Dear Eden,

I printed up a copy of your picture today.

It's a little overcast and the house is really quiet, the big kids are gone and the little one is taking a nap.

I wish I could curl up on the couch and nurse you and nibble on your fingers and toes. Smile at you. You'd be playing right along by now...

I miss all the things we never got to do. I miss memories we never made.

But I still smile almost everyday because I know I'll not only see you again, but that your life served a great purpose.

I know you don't read my blog, :D , but I just wanted to tell you today how much you are missed and how much I love you...and how you have impacted me as a person.

~Mommy

Better Days

2008-05-13T08:16:00.000-07:00

Some days are so hard. Days like my last post...

Most days aren't. Most days the supernatural peace and grace of God surround me. I never know when it will be painful, but I know that God is always faithful to buoy me when my arms stop moving and I start to sink.

I am greatful beyond words to have been given Eden, even for the short season we had. I am grateful that God gave me, not only strength, but the support of a church family without whom I'd have fallen apart. Friends who loved my baby as much as I did. People as invested in a miracle as me.

Eden was a gift to many and the line to snuggle her and kiss her will be long in heaven. The people who never got to nuzzle into her sweet little neck but miss her all the same.

So days like today, when God has brought me through another patch of ugly, are truly a blessing.

One year ago today

2008-05-11T22:46:00.000-07:00

I learned what it meant to be "a little bit pregnant". I knew what it was to have a wiggling, living, baby inside of me...and be told I would never love her outside of me. I learned what it felt like to be told the best thing to do would be to end my child's life.

My whole world turned upside down and I am not so sure it ever really righted it's self again.

I have grown and loved and felt joy in this last year.

I have also known pain that hurt so deep I could barely catch my breath. I know the ache of a mother's arms without one of her babies to fill them.

I know what it is to long for something I will never see or know.

God has been so incredibly faithful to me, held me as I wanted to crumble into a mess on the floor.

Today though, on a day motherhood is celebrated, it feels too big and I want so badly to wake-up and find this whole year was nothing more than a nightmare.

I rejoice over new babies and my heart breaks in every smile...I want my baby so badly today. I want to love her and kiss her. I want to hold her in my arms and nurse her to sleep. I want to pace the floor with her when she can't sleep.

It's hard sometimes, and a little overwhelming to know that I will feel all of these things every day.

Sacred

2008-04-24T22:52:00.000-07:00

Today has not been an easy day. The last week or so my grief reached a familiar place, one I've been too before...or been near...and it's hard to be visiting here again.

Somehow, this time I feel more desolate. It is a far more difficult struggle...or maybe the difficulty hasn't changed, I am just growing accustomed to the better days...so the harder days seem that much more pronounced?

It is almost more difficult to admit this time through. I feel almost as if I am failing at something? I don't want to let anyone down. I want to still be standing in the strength of Jesus. Yet today? Today it is all I can do to sit here at His feet and weep.

I want to throw a mighty fit and beg God for a do-over. For another moment with my baby. Beg Him to let me wake-up from this. That it would all be a dream. That whatever God has taught me or shown me would have been impressed on me and now I get to keep my girl...

And even in this moment, here as I type, and admit the immaturity and ugliness, and see the parts of my heart I have been trying to hold back from God this week...even now He reaches down to comfort me and caress my tear streaked cheeks with his own hand. With His own tears He comforts me.

Every time I want to tell Him this isn't fair or ask Him why I see a glimmer of His plan...just a glimmer, as if through the fog, but I see He has not abandoned me and this was not something He allowed out of callous disregard...

I am so like one of my Children, anxious for "the end" not wanting to endure the lesson or wait out the plan.

Happy Half Birthday

2008-04-13T21:29:00.000-07:00

I can hardly believe it's be only six short months since I first looked into the face of my precious daughter. Beautiful and perfect in her brokenness. Six months since I saw true beauty in ultimate heartbreak. Six months since a me I used to be ceased to exist. Six months since my faith was tested to it's limit.

It's overwhelming sometimes to think that getting here doesn't mean the grief is over, just that it continues to change...and change me.

I was telling my husband the other day that part of me was afraid that I was lying to myself everyday. That this new element to my relationship with God would shatter and I would see that, in reality, I was bitter, broken, and angry.

My growing closer to God has been very deliberate. I made a conscious choice to continue to magnify His name and to love on Him. To believe in His word. All of this a huge step of faith after my beautiful daughter was born broken.

I try my hardest to be honest with God about it because I want this to be sincere.

So last night I was at prayer and a song I have played continually this last year came on...

The enemy's been defeated
Death couldn't hold you down

I think I have said before, that I imagined, while pregnant with Eden playing that song in church as we beheld the sweet baby God had brought life and wholeness to.

When that vision wasn't to pass I would stiff often turn to that song to lift my faith. Satan was still defeated by God's supernatural peace poured out within moments of Eden's birth.

Last night I believe God spoke to me, just little me.

The enemy's plans for me were defeated. I was not destroyed by my daughter's death. I am not continually oppressed by my grief or my questions. I live and love my God every day. It is sincere and He knows it.

Clear Acrylic Cups

2008-04-12T21:59:00.000-07:00

Yesterday morning I went to pick up a few staples from the grocery store but as usual got sidetracked by the $1.00 specials. I was delighted to find small acrylic cups for the kids so I picked up two each of the blue, green, pink, and clear. Pleased to be getting two for each kid and thinking that I knew who would naturally gravitate towards which color.

It wasn't until I got home and was unloading that I realized I bought two cups for each of my children...yet only have three children at home with me.

I hadn't particularly chosen cups for Eden... but I just picked up eight.

On another heartbreaking note my friend's twin girls died. She birthed them and held them and said her good-byes. She said they were beautiful.

Pray for her now...she and her family. She as two daughters at home... and has had to let go of two she never got to know.

Unprepared

2008-03-27T14:07:00.000-07:00

I've just returned home form dropping my older kids off with dad for some much needed bonding time, my littlest is in his crib taking an afternoon nap. I was planning on settling in for a nap of my own but came online to check on a friend...

She is around 17 weeks pregnant and had an irregular test and was going in for genetic testing and a high level ultrasound today.

Just hearing her retelling of the day elicited a strange reaction in me and I am now suitably unsettled enough to not be able to take my nap. I want to pick up the phone and call all of my wonderful friends for comfort but at the same time I want to hide in the darkness of my bedroom and scream and thrash and cry.

The memories of Eden fade a little each day, I only knew my daughter for 36 short hours. But the memories of the day I was told that she would die, that I should end her life without ever getting a chance to say good bye... those memories are crisp and clear.

I want to say no one should ever have to go through that, but I feel like to say that discounts what God did through it.

Right now I am feeling it all anew. It's like the last year has vanished and I am right back there. And in some ways it hurts more because I know how the story ends. I know the answer to my pleading is met with a quiet, and heartbroken, no.

I see Him. I have such an image of my heavenly father weeping as He leaves the little body of my Eden unfinished. As He turns His head to say no. I see Him as his tears roll down His face looking at my heartbreak. Knowing His plan will hurt me in places I didn't even know hurt could dwell... What must it be to know you are doing what needs to be done, but know it will break the heart of your very child. Not to break the heart in discipline but to allow it to break for the furthering of a plan they might never see fully.

I wonder if I seem foolish to some, to turn my hurt and heartbreak over to the very one who allowed it in the first place? But where else would I ever find comfort? I can find no comfort but from He who has walked this road... God himself had to deny His own hearts cry and allow for the ultimate pain of watching His only son, not just die, but be beaten and abused by the very people He was laying His life down for.

My God and My Jesus are the only comfort.

Pray for my friend...her news was full of great joy...Twin girls...and great angst... they are sharing a sac and entangled in such a way as to make carrying them to term very dangerous.

Simple words

2008-03-15T20:22:00.000-07:00

I want to be profound here today. I want to write words that will move you to your very core...that will gird up the faith of the faithful and turn the unbeliever to Jesus.

I want to chronicle the vast changes in myself, my husband, my family, my friends, and even my church that have come about in the journey of carrying and losing my beautiful daughter.

I want to pour out my very soul, wrapped in the love and protection of my perfect savior...

But really, I am just here to sit and remember. To let the tears flow in this place while I try to recapture what it was to love her in person. To hold her tiny and imperfect body in my arms for 36 short hours. To kiss her cheek and watch her slip into the arms of Jesus. to be so fully enveloped by the supernatural that the tragedies of the natural world seemed a million miles away even as they unfolded inches from my face.

I am a little hurt that there are people who think it's time for me to move on, and eternally grateful for those who remember with me. Who are still moved and hurting for me. Who don't expect or hope for this to ever "go away".

How beautiful and wonderful it will be to see my little one again someday... To have the immeasurable joy of seeing not only the savior of my very soul, but seeing Him holding my sweet girl. To be reunited with one I knew so briefly but loved so fully.

I miss my daughter and can't imagine that it's only been 5 months that I have carried the ache that longs to hold her again...

Four Months

2008-02-18T19:47:00.000-08:00

I was very aware this last weekend that Eden's four month birthday was passing... that the days that numbered her all too short life were once again upon me.

I thought about what she'd likely be doing. She'd be moving on to pureed food and probably sitting up... if she followed after her siblings, she'd likely be sleeping for nice long stretches...

I wanted to write, just to remeber her. In the absence of holding her in my arms, I wanted to hold her in my thoughts and words...but the fact is, I was to busy to sit and formulate a post. Life continues to go on, the world continues to rotate and quiet moments get swallowed up.

I thought about Eden a lot. I missed her terribly. My heart did not break from the grief but she will be a missing piece of me until I stand before the Lord and he places her tiny hand in mine.

I have had the unique opportunity to become friends with another mother who found out shortly after I found out about Eden's anencephaly, that her sweet baby would also die shortly after his birth. It is a strange relationship in that we are in different countries and have never even heard each other's voices, yet we are eternally connected by this shared journey...

I wrote to her tonight and thought that these were the things I'd like to share here as well...

It's amazing isn't it? How completely upside down everything seemed and felt for those months we carried our little ones with the knowledge we would only have, if we were lucky, a few moments with them here on earth...and now it's so, relatively, normal? It seems to me, at times, to be both my greatest blessing and deepest heartache...that life is once again, so normal.

We are truly blessed, you and I. It sounds crazy, I know. But I do not feel cursed for what I had with my Eden. I feel blessed for the experience...not a blessing I'd ever hope for again, mind you...but blessed all the same.

This Sunday God brought James 1:2-4 to me. I hear James 1:2 all the time, but the latter verses spoke to me even more.

"2 Dear brothers and sisters,^[a] when troubles come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. 3 For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. 4 So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete, needing nothing."

I feel like a totally renewed creature. I know I haven't reached perfection yet but I stand on an assurance and faith I hadn't ever imagined attainable by me, now.

I have a confidence in who I am in God now, that I never knew before. I know I am not nearly where He desires me to end up...but I am very certain that I *am* on the path He has paved for me... and there is a blessing in that that overwhelms me.

Smiling through tears

2008-01-16T00:08:00.000-08:00

It's late and I suppose it's tomorrow already but I couldn't close my eyes tonight without remarking on the day that has passed.

Three months have flown by in the blink of an eye, yet it seems like I have carried the memories of my sweet baby girl for my entire life.

I was struck this morning, as I went about my daily chores, with how unremarkable the day was. How dishes still need doing and floors still need scrubbing. How my children still need to be led and diapers still need changing.

Yet today was remarkable. Today I woke up, snuggled my babies, and spent time with God. I was truly content and joyful. Even with the heaviness of my great loss, I felt joy today. I remembered my girl, as I always do, and I smiled at the time we had spent together. Even more I smiled remembering a moment I have no ability to explain. A moment that changed me from the depth of my very soul. The moment that coforts me when heartbreak threatens to crush me. I reflected today, on my daughter's death.

I have never seen Jesus, not with my earthly eyes, But my spirit has. My spirit knew, felt, and saw God, himself, lift my baby from my arms. Remove the soul that had blessed so many from her earthly vessel. God lifted her and cradled her just as I had for the blessed hours we had spent together.

I miss my daughter, yes. I always will. My heart aches for the moments we will never share. The kisses we will miss. I will never know her giggle or her smile.

But she is clothed in glory. She sits at the feet of the Creator of the Universe...no, she is cradled by His loving arms. I will not mourn for her. I will mourn those missed moments, but I will remember her beautiful blue eyes as she saw the face of her savior.

And I will smile.

"Think of your child; then, not as dead, but as living; not as a flower that has withered, but as one that is transplanted, and touched by a divine hand, is blooming in richer colors and sweeter shades than those on earth."-
Richard Hooker

Holding His Hem

2008-01-08T19:47:00.000-08:00

Has it really been nearly three months since I held my sweet baby? Three months since my world changed forever, in a way I couldn't imagine?

Tonight was a typical trip to the craft store. Just a quick trip for ribbon, but my oldest daughter decided to come along. She picked out crafts and ribbon and yarn that she would love to have...all of which stayed behind.

As we loaded into the van and began our short trip home we were laughing and joking and within minutes there were tears. A joke went touchy and my sweet girl began to cry. At first I assumed she was crying over not getting things her way, but then she broke and the truth came out.

We had gone to see Daddy at work today and, playing at the whiteboard as she usually does, she caught a glimpse of the picture he keeps of her sister. A picture we see everyday. Today though, something was different...and it broke her heart again.

It was hard to sit in the van with her and know she was hurting, carrying a burden that seems altogether too large for a little girl of seven. But at the same time it was beautiful.

It gave me a sort of sad joy at knowing that she had gotten a chance to trully love her sister. That she had known and held a very real little girl in her arms. That she had seen a glimmer of a smile on the face of the sister she had dreamed of for years.

She will always have her sister, real and in her heart.

I have been listening to a song that I had always imagined playing when Eden's healing was revealed. Lyrics that spoke to me so deeply when I was carrying her...

The enemy's been defeated.
Death couldn't hold you down.
Were gonna lift out voice in victory.
Were gonna make our praises loud.

I imagined a scene, not unlike the Lion King, holding her up before all as the baby God had healed.

This song is still His song for me. The death of my daughter will not be my defeat but the defeat of the enemy of my soul. He who tries to crush me with weight of it everyday. He who tries to get me to shout curses at God.

I will not turn from God in my hurt. I will not turn from Him in my confusion. He will still reign in my heart and in my life. Because He sees me. He created me. And He loves me.

Arms Lifted

2007-12-30T00:34:00.000-08:00

The Christmas decorations are already put away. The tree taken apart and the ornaments nestled in their little boxes up in the closet.

We had a lovely Christmas. The kids were excited to the point of barely being able to sleep the night before and were anxiously awaiting us in the living room at 4:30am. They were sent back to bed but I am sure there was little more sleep for them.

There were not a ton of presents but anything wrapped was like pure gold for them. The finest things, just because they had paper and bows. Jack looked at every gift with amazement, wondering "It is it?" with every package, whether it was for him or not.

It was truly beautiful, save one tiny detail. My daughter was missing. She was not there to distract me while presents were opened. She did not have a token under the tree from her older siblings. She did not sit with Santa in the weeks before. She did not get to wonder at the lights on the tree.

Absent were the cries of an overwrought and over tired baby on Christmas day, who had missed a nap and probably been over stimulated with all the excitement.

My oldest son mentioned more than once, with the innocence, joy, and truth only a child can muster "Eden is having the BEST Christmas because she is with Jesus." My oldest daughter carried the picture someone had drawn of Eden over to the tree to open gifts so she could be a part of it all...

And my heart broke a thousand different ways on Christmas day, even without noticing it, my heart broke. Even without a constant ache, I was depleted by the days end.

I have been thinking about something my pastor said to me. He pointed out that in the book of Job, after Job loses everything God restores it all to him twice over. My pastor has declared the same for us. But tell me, how does He restore my daughter unto me twice over? How does He fill the void left by her sweet little soul?

I was blessed by a Christmas letter I received this year. The writer of the letter referenced something she had read, and I can't even cite the source or give a direct quote as the letter isn't in front of me. The quote was making the point that while we often worship God and praise Him for all the gifts He lovingly bestows upon us, we need to remember to honor God simply because He is God. He is the creator of the universe and the creator of each and every one of us. He has loved me from before there was time, and He will love me long after.

So in the midst of missing my little girl, in the midst of this new shade of grief, I praise My God and I love Him. I praise Him because He alone is worthy to be praised.

It seems like we said goodbye a lifetime ago.

2007-12-15T00:09:00.000-08:00

Two months ago I switched off the hospital TV and, with you nestled in the crook of my arm, surrendered to my body's need for sleep. Through God's grace I slept well, yet lightly.

Even as I closed my eyes that night, my spirit knew what I could not voice. My spirit knew this was my last night with you. That what had begun to be measured in days would soon be measured in minutes.

I hated to let you go but know in the depths of my soul my time with you was not fruitless.

I think so often of the impact you had on the world, but you had such great impact on me. Just like He does with your brothers and sister, God used you to teach me so many things.

You changed this family forever, and your impact was only good. I think I am a better mother for having had the great honor of mothering you. I am a better wife for sharing you with your daddy. I am also, I hope, a better Christian for having had to trust God so fully with your very life.

I miss you Eden... I long for the day we will be reunited before our Heavenly Father. When I will bask, not only in His glory, but in the completion of our family. When I will see you healed and whole. When I can hold and kiss you again.

Christmas will be strange this year with your little empty stocking. We will celebrate and have joy... but there will be an absence that is palpable. It amazes me how we can so fully feel you missing in the memories you never were a part of.

I love you baby girl. Everyday.

Thank You

2007-11-30T19:44:00.000-08:00

I am often surprised that God is still so surprising in His goodness. Surprised I still don't expect Him in just the right moments. Surprised that all He wants from me is all of me, flaws and all. That my weaknesses really do give Him opportunities to show His unending strength.

Laying bare my struggles before you and therefore, before Him, gave Him just the opening He needed to meet me in my valley. In a matter of hours the heaviness began to lift and my heart began to beat in rhythm with the things He is teaching me.

I am blessed to be walking this road. Blessed to have been able to hold and meet my daughter. Blessed to struggle like I do.

I am so greatful to all of you who hold me up when I feel so weak, and rejoice with me when I have strength.

In the secret...

2007-11-27T09:24:00.000-08:00

At night, while I'm laying in bed, I think of all kinds of things to share with you. All kinds of encouraging words... some a little less so. Then, morning comes and it all gets so lost in the everyday... Lost in the dishes and laundry. Lost in the day to day chasing after three rambunctious kids. Lost in normal life.

I've wondered a lot lately about what my new normal is. Six months ago I was planning the next few years in the light of feedings, diaper changes, and lack of sleep. Then for five months I was in limbo... desperately seeking God for the miraculous in every breath. Then I was a mother to four precious babies. Two days later I had three living children and an encounter with God like none I'd ever had. Then life settled in... and now? Where to from here?

I crave that unexplainable closeness with God. To be fully embraced, tangibly, by the lover of my soul. To stand before Him in worship and have the very core of my spirit tingle with His touch. Yet, it eludes me a little.

I stood in church Sunday and felt slightly numb. The first I'd felt that in a long, long time. I didn't like it at all.

I am not angry at God, but I am realizing that maybe I am feeling something I haven't yet faced. Something I'm not even sure how to name.

I wanted Him to heal Eden. I wanted to bring her home. I want to be holding her and cuddling her right now. I want more than a photo album and one adorable picture. I wanted more than memories.

It's hard to read the scriptures that speak of asking and receiving or His great power. I want to throw a tantrum. Stomp my feet and cry like my two year old when he can't have a cookie. It stings a little to know He could have healed her and didn't.

It is something I keep saying I am working out with Him. But I wonder if I really am? Is it too hard and painful for me to really look at? To be truly vulnerable to God with those feelings.

The truth is I don't know.

I trust Him everyday by choice right now. I trust Him because He *is* still the creator of the universe, the Ancient of Days, the one who died for me. I trust Him because He holds my daughter to His very bosom when I can't. I trust Him because I know His plan is perfect.

If it is even possible, this part of the journey seems to hurt the most. To feel so distant from He who loves me most. I feel like I am swimming through quicksand to get back to the place we once walked so closely.

Maybe that's the point? Maybe it's a little too much me? This isn't something I can do on my own or by my own power. This can only be done by God. I can only have healing in His plan and His time.

I am going to try very hard to wait on Him. To let Him meet me in my time of need. I am going to try and be still...

Dear Eden

2007-11-13T09:57:00.000-08:00

One month ago, today, I finally got to meet you. I got to see your sweet little face, so like your brothers' and sister's. I touched your tiny perfect feet and hands. I held you in my arms and studied you. My heart overflowed with love for you.

One month ago my life changed forever, holding you, loving you, and knowing this meeting was the beginning of a goodbye.

I can not imagine it's only been a month, as I spent a lifetime holding you in that dim and quiet hospital room. It seems forever ago that the world stopped and allowed us that precious time. Forever ago that I learned what immeasurable blessing can come from something that seems so tragic.

In two days I will reflect on what it was like to let you slip into the arms of Jesus. What it is to know peace that transcends all of our human understanding. But today, right now I am going to remember the way you felt in my arms. I am going to look at your pictures and I am going to feel joy at having been chosen to be your mother.

I love you little one...forever and ever.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words

2007-11-07T10:29:00.001-08:00

This picture was taken the day before me cesarean. Probably just about 24 hours before Eden was born... seems like a lifetime ago. I was still filled with such hope for my little bean... but very aware this might be the last time I knew her while she was still alive.

This one of the only two pictures we have of our whole family of six. Even though we were all heartbroken we had joy in this moment. I will always be grateful we had this time together...all of us.

Noah and his baby sister. Some of the most beautiful pictures we have are some of the most heartbreaking.

All my babies. everything about who they are is captured in this single shot.

Phoebe and her sister...taken by her big brother. She was so ready to love her for as long as she could.

Not yet in dancing shoes

2007-11-04T18:32:00.000-08:00

Today I stood before God, at the church altar, and sang these words...

You have turned my mourning into dancing.
You have turned my sorrow into joy.

I sang these words as an offering and sacrifice to God. I am not yet ready to dance. I am not quite filled with joy. I have made a commitment to myself and to Him to open myself up and allow Him in to heal the deepest, darkest, most broken parts.

Emotionally, I am raw and some days suck, but mostly I am surviving and enjoying the life and babies I have. I am making a conscious choice to heal and let God work in me, but it's hard because I'm still really tender and wounded and it's something I need to work out with Him. I know He could have healed my baby and didn't and that hurts. My faith is not shaken but my heart is bruised...

I know in my deepest being that God is still working through the life of Eden, that He is still working in me. I ask myself almost daily if I still trust Him, and I do. If I still believe His heart breaks with mine, and I do.

So today I stood there. Raw and exposed before God and sang the words I know to be true.

This is how we overcome

I will only overcome this deep wound, will only live in the grace and power that is mine through Jesus, if I can open my heart and worship Him from this place.

Missing Eden

2007-10-30T10:18:00.000-07:00

Lest anyone get the idea that I am some super strong woman or that I am somehow more capable of handling grief and pain like this I just wanted to share some of my heartbreak with you.

I do believe with all my heart that God has not written the final chapter of what's to come from Eden's short and dedicated life. I do know that He holds me and my family in His hands. I know that He only wants good for me. I know His desire is to comfort me in this time of heartbreak.

I know all of this.

But I also know my house is far too quiet. It is missing the cries, coos, and laughter that a new baby brings. My arms are empty and aching for my daughter. I have a favorite picture of Eden that will never change. I have a photo album I ca not even fill with her pictures.

I am grateful beyond words to have my other kids... to see them smile and play and laugh everyday is both a comfort and a deep pain, as I wonder what their sister would have brought, new and exciting, to them.

I keep waiting to wake up from all of this, but I don't. This is real and doesn't just go away and stop hurting. It's more to walk through everyday.

I can't imagine doing this with out God, even though He feels so distant at times. I know He is there for me. I know my daughter is with Him. I don't have to wonder after her. I know Eden walks in perfect peace with joy beyond measure. She never cries, she never has to experience pain or sorrow.

When it gets to overwhelming I can go back to the moment I handed her into her Heavenly Father's arms... I can remind myself of the peace and joy of that moment. I can remind myself of the tangible presence of The Holy Spirit... and I wouldn't trade that to have Eden in my arms right now.

Still, my arms ache for her...

Tribute to Eden

2007-10-29T17:13:00.000-07:00

My good friend Nicky put this video together to celebrate the short time we had with Eden...

Pressed but Not Crushed

2007-10-29T14:27:00.000-07:00

I keep wondering about adding to this blog. I feel like so much of this story is not yet written, but it might be better to leave this chapter finished... But today I want to share, so share I will.

I was remembering yesterday, as weekends naturally bring Eden's birth to the forefront of my mind, what it was like in the recovery room as Eden's family and visitors poured in.

We were in a private and dimly lit room, holding a child we all knew was not likely to survive much beyond these precious moments and yet there was not a great pall of death in the room. There was not the unwelcome spirit of desperate grief. There was the prayer of my pastor, a prayer of intense spiritual struggle that comes out in only three words repeated "Jesus, Jesus, Holy Spirit, Jesus". Words that spoke volumes in their simplicity. There was heartbreak over prayers answered differently than we'd hoped. Tears ran freely. But there was joy. There was celebration of this little being that God had made so perfect in every way but one.

It is this joy that carries me. It is this joy that buoys my heart when my arms ache with emptiness.

I would never choose this journey. I would never wish it on anyone. Yet still, I am forever grateful to have been given the opportunity to walk with God through this trial.

Perfect Peace

2007-10-17T02:12:00.000-07:00

In the few split seconds after Eden's birth, when I didn't hear a lusty newborn cry and knew she hadn't been healed, I looked over to her bassinet across the room and saw a nice healthy baby. She looked so normal, except for the top of her head. In that second I just didn't understand why she hadn't been healed and my heart broke...

She and Steven went immediately to a private room so the kids could meet their sister since we had been told she looked like it would be a matter of minutes before we lost her. I wondered if I would ever see her alive again.

As they wheeled me in to join my family the first thing I saw were my two daughters, the oldest holding her sister and crying... my heart broke again. I didn't understand the unanswered prayers of that broken hearted girl. They placed the baby in my arms and I had my first chance to hold her, to connect to her... and suddenly God didn't seem that far away. He had created this little one , perfect for His plan, given her life and loved her.

I saw a brokenness in all those who had prayed for her healing and I felt the same brokenness, but I also felt God, whispering He hadn't ignored me, stopped loving me, or made a mistake.

There was peace like none I can describe. Peace that is, frankly hard to connect with right now as hormones shift and change, but peace I felt and know to be real so I hang on to it even though it seems somewhat distant.

I believe God revealed something to me about hope in those moments. Hope and perfect peace. I wanted Eden to be healed as a testimony to His power and greatness. I wanted nothing more that for Eden's life to point people to God. That they would be so amazed and awestruck they couldn't help but fall to their knees before Him. What God chose to reveal to the world was His ability to comfort and give strength when none seems likely.

I did not get to bring my baby home, and I miss her, but I did bring home an encounter with Him that will change me forever. I bring home memories of the doctors and nurses impacted by the peace, hope, and strength they saw in our family and in our friends... the knowledge that we had something different. That difference was The Lord of the Universe. A God so big, yet one who cared so much about a simple little family from Lomita.

It is hard not to have my girl with me, but it was easy to pass her into the arms of My God.

What was supposed to be minutes together, God stretched into just over 36 hours. In her last few moments, when I knew she was leaving us, I felt so calm, so serene, so ready to hand her over to my Jesus. I believe that heaven is all around us. That it is very real but it is in a realm we just don't see... if you read the story of Stephen in Acts he begins to die and speaks of the cloud of wittinesses all around. Eden had never focused her eyes, she was quite probably blind, but in the 20 mins or so before she passed her eyes were open and focused, closing when she breathed her last, and I believe she was focused on her savior. I still remember, and always will, that last breath and the sensation that I was literally handing her off into the arms of God. What a special little girl, to get to spend her eternity with Him so soon.

Answers

2007-10-15T19:33:00.000-07:00

Eden Rebekah Anderson was born Saturday, October 13, 2007 at 3:46 PM at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Beverly Hills.

While our family did not receive the healing that we had so long hoped and prayed for, we are rejoicing in the miracle of Eden's birth and grateful for the time God allowed us to spend with her.

Eden passed away this morning at 4:10 a.m. from the arms of her mother and father into the arms of her Heavenly Father.

Thanks to all of you for your words of encouragement and prayers. We are doing well, have a peace that transcends understanding and feel blessed to have had the opportunity to love this little girl for her short thirty-six hours of life.

The final leg

2007-10-06T00:09:00.000-07:00

It has been nearly impossible to find a free and semi quiet moment in which to update my blog in the last week.

First there was the weekend following my last post that passed in kind of a haze. It was a weekend that just ached. My husband and I were once again living with the raw emotions that flood the parents of a child you are told can not live. Seeing, again, the ultrasound image of my sweet baby, so perfect in every way but one, was heartbreaking. I, once again, had to work out my faith with fear and trembling. Somehow, asking God to make Eden whole over the course of 4 months seemed so much more attainable... but knowing He was down to two weeks was suddenly overwhelming.

Once again, my spirit was reminded that God's timing is perfect. He is never early nor is He ever late. I was reminded that I had the distinct impression in those first weeks that there would be no evidence of healing until Eden was born. And just a few weeks back the notion had come that even if she is not born whole, healing is still possible.

I do not see every thread in the amazing tapestry of God's perfect plan. I can only see one small part. I do not know how He intends to work this for His glory and my good, but I know His word is clear that He holds those two goals. That Eden is not a surprise. That my pain is not an unfortunate byproduct. I know that God has a perfect plan...

After all of this I was called in for another appointment with my new doctors. And, very surprisingly another ultrasound. Again, the screen showed the picture of a mostly perfect form. A wiggly and wonderfully made, yet lacking a brain.

This ultrasound did not break my heart, I saw, again, an opportunity for God to move. For Him to heal. And for His glory to be revealed.

At this moment I am only one week from seeing God's answer. I am just seven short days from seeing, what I believe will be, the miraculous.

My past birth history makes a natural birth a little risky, and while that had been my hope for this pregnancy, a third cesarean has been scheduled for Saturday, October 13th... at 2:30pm. Should labor begin on it's own before then I will still have a chance for a natural birth.

I thank you all who continue to pray for us, your prayers are desperately needed an greatly loved at this point in the race. I pray God will pour out His blessings to each and everyone of you as well.

The unseen

2007-09-28T16:00:00.000-07:00

Well, I had hoped to be able to report the divine today, but as of this moment no healing has come forth.

I'll admit I was sad and do feel a little weepy right now, but my faith in God is not shaken. I *still* believe and still hold out hope for the miraculous.

I want this baby to come home so badly.

I wondered to myself, and wondered also if I wasn't hearing the voice of God, on my drive home if this would be the thing to break my faith. If this would be, suddenly, too much bad news. Too much science. If suddenly I believed a miracle was no longer available. But my God did not change who He was in that half hour. He still formed the beating heart I watched and heard. He still breathed life into the cramped baby I saw on the screen. And He is *still* in the business of performing miracles.

If faith is the evidence of that which is not seen, then today my faith was strengthened. Today I did not see a nice round head. Today I did not see God's hand change the brain of my fourth child... But today I still believe God will heal her. I am surrounded by those who believe God will heal her. ..

Two scriptures sent to me this week:

"Yet he did not waver through unbelief regarding the promise of God, but was strengthened in his faith and gave glory to God, being FULLY PERSUADED that God had power to do what he had promised." Romans 4:20-21

Also, in Matt 9:29, "Then he touched their eyes and said, 'According to your faith will it be done to you'."

Not Just for the Old Testament

2007-09-22T17:20:00.000-07:00

I think it's easy to forget that some of the mighty and wonderful things God did in Old Testament times He still does today. I am not speaking simply of miracles. Throughout the Old Testament , and into the new, we see that God placed great value on a person's name. A name was often prophetic of the role that child would play in history or a marker of the parents state of mind.

More than once God changed someones name when the old no longer applied. Sometimes, as is the case with Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael and Azariah... holding on to your given name was done simply to prove you did belong to your God.

I have always said that God chose the names of each of our children. No favorite but unused name has ever been recycled. They fit each soul and then they no longer fit. Rebekah has been a name both my husband and I have loved since before Noah was born... but it's never been the right time or the right baby to place that name on the list.

This all strikes me as today, my beloved husband, wrote this in a blog he shares with the students he teaches...

"We had a discussion about names in APUSH this last week. About Phoebe Caufield's name and whether Salinger's choice for Holden's sister was deliberate. I asked Elizabeth Martinez if she knew what her first name meant and made them laugh about telling any boy who even looked at my Phoebe Elisabeth that her names meant "Pure" and "Consecrated/Set Apart for God".
And, thinking also of my youngest unborn daughter, asked APUSH'er Rebecca Figueroa if she knew what her first name meant, not entirely sure if I remembered myself the origin of Eden's middle name.

So this morning, I looked it up again and thought how wonderfully appropriate and inspired my youngest daughter's name is.

"Rebekah" means "to bind".

I remember Mrs. Anderson telling me this early in the pregnancy after we had decided on a name and finding it rather odd, wondering if we had made the right choice and wondering if it were as appropriate as Noah James (The Peaceful Comforter, Brother of John the Beloved), Phoebe Elisabeth (Pure, Consecrated to God) and John Steven (God is Merciful and Gracious, Anointed/Crowned). Looking it up again this morning, I find it beautiful and so wonderfully fitting. If anyone has ever helped to bind our growing family and our church family together, it has been our little Eden Rebekah and all God has taught us through her.

Eden means to delight or find pleasure in.

Perfect. Just perfect.

Three more weeks.

Keep praying for our little Eden Rebekah and for our entire family."

Still trusting

2007-09-21T21:33:00.000-07:00

So, I am having another ultrasound. Friday at 11:30am... This is not to check the condition of the baby but to check out where my placenta is in relation to my previous scar tissue from the cesareans I had with the boys.

I know that if I don't see healing in this ultrasound it's not too late, but oh, how beautiful would it be to see a nice round head on my sweet baby girl? To not have to labor with the unknown, to be able to spend the last two weeks of my final pregnancy with a whole and healthy baby kicking me in the ribs.

I have so many reasons to believe Eden is coming home. So many traces of God doing things beyond the expected.

It's hard not to try to explain to God all the many reasons He should do what I want, as if he doesn't see the giant tapestry in which our lives are but a tiny thread. Important, essential, but small. At the same time I see God moving. I see opportunities to dramatically change peoples lives. I see hearts softening that will have no choice but believe He is who scripture claims He is...

Just the other day my mom let slip her heartbreak over my sweet girl. It was a simple sentence but it revealed her brokenness... if for my mother's salvation alone this whole journey is worth it. If to give my mom the gift of, not only a second granddaughter, but more importantly a relationship with her healer, her creator, her savior... I had to walk this path it was worth it.

Thank you all for your prayers, please remember me on Friday...

Not Above Being Selfish

2007-09-13T13:12:00.000-07:00

Eden is due in just over three weeks. In many ways it seems like the diagnosis was just pronounced and in others it feels like we have been living with the weight of it forever. The last half of my pregnancy has gone incredibly fast, but each day gets longer and longer.

I can not believe that in about a month we will finally have our answer. We will finally know if this baby is coming home.

In a lot of ways I am far more confident than I have been in the long four+ months I have carried her with her diagnosis, that we will see a miracle, but at the same time I am even more afraid to say it out loud. It's one thing to declare absolute faith in an idea that will not see fruition for several months, it's another thing entirely when it's right around the corner.

In a way I hadn't quite expected, I feel like I love her even more now. I have loved the concept of her for months... but there has been so much "other" to focus on. Now I actually can just sit and be with her.

I have been so focused on God and His plans, the things He was teaching me, the way He was changing my family, the changes in my church... all related to this precious little one. Now, I have crossed a line where it's able to just be about me and my baby.

And I love her and I want her to come home. I want to hold her and wake up in the middle of the night. I want to watch her toddle and take her first steps. I want to see her smoosh a cake in her face on her first birthday. I want to watch her brothers and sister spoil her. I want to sacrifice some autonomy for the sake of being the mother of a newborn. I want to get spit up on. I want to change another bazzilion diapers. I want to watch her daddy get wrapped around her little finger. I just want to mother her.

I have prayed many things for her and our family... but today I just want to say "Daddy please, can I just bring my baby home?"

More Than Merely Treading Water

2007-08-29T14:14:00.000-07:00

My husband and older daughter, who is nearing seven, were in the pool the other day, and I was watching from the sidelines. She is learning to swim little by little and it's her Daddy who is doing all the teaching. He never sits her down and says "Now Phoebe, we are going to have a swim lesson." He plays with her, encourages her, and guides her.

I watched her climb out of the pool and stand at the side, readying herself to jump into her father's open arms. She was the tiniest bit fearful but knew he would catch her. "Daddy, you stand right there." She jumped and I watched him inch back so she would swim just a little further than she believed she could. This went on all day, until suddenly she was swimming the width of the pool. The little girl who thought she could swim a few feet had suddenly conquered the pool. It was beautiful to watch. She beamed with a new found confidence. She knew that she had been forever changed and she really could swim.

My journey with Eden has been much like this. I never would have imagined on March 10th that I would be able to, not only float out here in this sea of blind faith... but that I would be able to swim. I can do this because I trust my Heavenly Father not to let me drown. I may not understand the point of him stretching my faith like He has, but I know when I reach the other side of this ocean His plan will be perfect.

Eden's heartbeat

2007-08-21T10:18:00.001-07:00

My daughter came with me to my last midwife appointment. She used her new camera to record her sister's heartbeat. When I hear this I have hope for the life inside of me.

Family Ties

2007-08-02T13:54:00.000-07:00

Today was a very nice day. Lunch with my bible study ladies, here at the house, we were celebrating a birthday and also blessing my home.

We've been here for less than 4 months and we've had issue after issue... mostly small and annoying but still. I had wanted to anoint the house with oil but never did in all the chaos...

As a group of women, some old enough to be my mother or grandmother...some even a bit older, walked through each room of my house...we laughed and joked...and prayed. As the blessings were spoken over a kitchen full of conversation, kids rooms filled with peace, and even a bedroom filled with love, I was struck by the amazing provision of these ladies.

Each one carries her own baggage and hurts, but each was here to bless a transplant from another country, or me, a mother in the midst of her greatest struggle. It is truly a gift from God to be blessed in such a way. And once again they spoke life over Eden...even words of joy over my older daughters room, that she be able to share her room with her sister.

I was reminded of the time in my life before I found God or accepted His gift of perfect love through His son, Jesus. I used to feel terribly lonely and empty. I had good parents and I had a handful of friends, but I always wondered if there was anyone to whom I truly mattered. I fantasised about becoming ill and being hospitalized, wondering if anyone would come to see me. I have said before, that God filled that void instantly on the day I allowed myself to see Him, and that is true. But today, and all along this journey, I am filled to overflowing.

Being a part of the family of God is so much more than doctrine or rules. It is to belong in a way never even fathomed before. It is to be fully embraced, loved, protected, and natured. It is to be filled so much that you have nothing else to do but give some away.

We may not always get it right, but this family is so beautiful.

I have also been blessed by friends from afar, I recieved a quilt and a box of cards and notes from women all over the country and into Canada yesterday. It touches me to see that, no matter what, Eden has touched lives already.

Forever Changed

2007-07-31T12:45:00.001-07:00

Sometimes I let this blog go a week or two because I'm not really sure what to say. The particulars are all still the same. And I can't really update you about Eden much because she's hidden away from view... for all I know she's healed already.

So here's where I am at this week, I'm trying to figure out how to plan for what to *do* after she's born, should she not be healed. It's a practicality I can't quite wrap my brain around. Neither Steven or I feel compelled to have a service or bury her body, But that leave a big question on what to do with her remains. I don't want her just "disposed" of, but I really can't imagine what to do. And there is an issue of cost, which maybe shouldn't be a factor here but is. I think I need to really start looking into this, but I ask you "How do I hope for a miracle, believe for a miracle, and investigate ways to dispose of my baby all at the same time?" Even now, I'm typing that out and she is doing the thing where a foot or butt bushes against my stomach and makes it take a weird shape... how do I plan for this all to end?

In many ways I can't fathom that there could be anything wrong with this little one inside me. She is so obviously *alive* right now, her heartbeat is strong. Her movements are regular and frequent. She is growing and making me physically uncomfortable and exhausted. How can she not be "just fine"?

I have had reason to talk to a few people lately about the impact of Eden on my relationship with God. I realized that I have had the wonderful opportunity to see Gods love poured out in a new and different way. I have had a chance to live "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted" (Matt 5:4) I have hurt more than I even knew was possible and been wrapped in love like I can't describe. I have understood what it is to touch the heart of God and have His heart break for his child.

I was telling Steven yesterday, that I feel weird because I was operating in such a fevered pitch with Jesus, and now this has all become so everyday. It's so much more a part of my every moment reality. I wondered was I getting lazy? As we talked I realized that I am now, forever changed. It's not that I've gotten lazy it's that I've gone from one point to another. That my faith has been forever changed. And I am grateful for that change.

This is from an email I received just 10 days after the diagnosis:

"Eden Rebekah what a powerful name- "delight" and "captivating beautiful" I was just thinking of the story of Issac and Rebekah in Gen. 24 and in verses 55-60 Rebekah agrees (and is willing) to go with Abraham's servant to A PLACE SHE HAD NEVER BEEN. And the Lord spoke to me that Eden is taking you to a place where you have never been with in the Lord. He will go with you to that place and though it may be a hard place it has changed you forever. You will never be the same again and your faith level will never be the same again"

Just one of the many words of faith I have received for this little blessing.

A special day

2007-07-17T09:43:00.000-07:00

Today is my 14th wedding anniversary. Recently at another wedding I was listening to the vows and thinking about how much Steven and I have been through, and how much we have changed over these 14 years. We were just kids when we walked down that aisle and made promises to each other and to God.

I am grateful everyday that he is my husband and that he is the father of our four children. As Eden's daddy, he is torn between feeling like he can't protect her and what he needs to do to care for me and the other three on this journey. He handles each new hurdle with love that comforts me, even when he feels he isn't. I am grateful that God put us together so long ago...that we have grown together in age, faith, and maturity.

Eden continues to wiggle, kick, roll, and squirm almost constantly. And I am reminded that, whatever the outcome, there is a little tiny life inside of me. The doctors can say whatever they will but, at this moment in time, Eden *is* alive and she has a special designation from God. She has already stirred the faith of many.

In bible study we have been going over Psalm 23. And I am reminded constantly that while I walk through this valley that it is only a "shadow of death" that passes over us. And that I needn't fear because God is with me...with the big kids...with my nearly two year old...with my husband. My God is a good God who loves and cares for me. Who desires only the best for me. Though I can not always understand what He is doing, I trust that He has only my best, and the best of those who love Him, in His heart and Mind.

Monday Musings

2007-07-02T10:49:00.000-07:00

I have written, rewritten, erased, started over again, this blog about 4 times already. My thoughts are so jumbled.

I start out telling of my struggles with the constant everyday of carrying Eden, I talk about feeling her first kick during her ultrasound, I start to answer questions I've been asked a lot lately... but it all sounds so flat.

The reality is, this is getting really hard. Aside from everything else, I am getting really pregnant. I am exhausted and have a hard time even finishing up my daily chores. Folding the laundry, putting it away, doing the dishes, and vacuuming puts me out for a day and a half... lets not forget it's summer and all three kids need a mommy. Also included in the 6 month pregnant package are some pretty emotional days. Fighting to install a water filter for two days reduced me to tears more than once.

It's also a long journey. I wish I could know, right now, that everything was going to be okay. That I was bringing my baby home in October and we'd all live happily ever after. But that is not my path... I don't get to sprint. It's a marathon.

My husband is having a hard time not knowing how to be the Protector of his family and how to struggle through his own emotions. He needs your prayers right now, he needs the strength of all of you to help hold him up.

First instinct and words of faith

2007-06-21T11:51:00.000-07:00

I replay a lot of the stuff that happened at that first ultrasound. I replay what was said to me. The look on my friend's face as she sat and listened. The tone of voice that the technician used. The smells... all of it. But just recently I've been remembering that first split second after she told me. My first and immediate reaction that hadn't heard figures or facts yet, the moment just a fraction of a moment before my head started swimming...

What I thought in that moment was "Well, I guess God will have to fix it. "( I didn't yet know she was a she.)

This moment comforts me. It was here that my faith spilled out, not yet crowded by logic or emotion. Just faith. I wish I could say it was the whispered voice of God reassuring me, but of that I'm not sure.

I thank everyone who is following this journey. Every prayer is felt here...

Ordinary Pregnant Women

2007-06-18T12:19:00.000-07:00

Last night I was having a lot of back pain and heartburn and what not. Just generally feeling crummy... And I was struck by how different things are than with an ordinary pregnancy. In the past, when I have felt icky while being pregnant some sort of motherly instict kicks in and the idea that I need to take it easy and rest becomes primary...

But now, I feel pain and wonder "Is this the begining of the end of my time with Eden?" and I think how that would be sad but that I knew this was a possibility...and then I wonder "Do I sit and rest, or do I go on as normal and let things happen?"

As it is yesterday was just the culmination of a few long weeks and a very long and exhausting weekend, Eden is still wiggling, rolling, and kicking. I am still very much pregnant.

I have had a rough week emotionally, I mean I've been okay, but I've worried more about the what-ifs than in the weeks preceding. I was asked if I felt I knew she would really be okay and I am starting to feel a little shakey about if she will or not... it's hard to carry around this hope and faith in her healing everyday. I want so baddly to stand firmly in the knowledge that she is being knit together even now... but some days it's the best I can do to sit weakly.

The sun was shining today

2007-06-05T18:54:00.000-07:00

Had my first OB appointment since the diagnosis today. It was kind of weird in that it wasn't all that weird. I did all the typical stuff - weight, blood pressure, etc. Just like any regular old pregnant woman. Because I am, in fact, a regular old pregnant woman. But not really... Most regular pregnant women are worrying about things like stretch marks, exhaustion, and frequent potty breaks. Me, I'm just sort of existing in this limbo world. Waiting on my miracle but uncertain everyday...

I talked a lot to my Dr about my emotional well being, she wondered what kind of support I had and was very pleased to hear me speak of all of my church family that was rallying around me. I told her Eden's name and she made a note in my chart. The care with which she treats me is truly remarkable. I don't think she'd make this choice but encourages me to truly enjoy and celebrate every moment I have with Eden. (Hearing her referred to by her name is very comforting to me.)

We listened to her very strong heartbeat. Beating away as if nothing was amiss. The Dr confirmed that, yes, those were definitely hiccups that I was feeling...

Eden is moving all the time. Not just the hiccups but I feel her rolling and kicking almost constantly, It is both wonderful and a little heartbreaking. While I choose to believe she will be born whole, part of me knows she may not be and it pains me to think this might be all I have of her. I love her, yet I may never know her in *this* life. It's a very weird place to live.

I told my Dr I had hope in a very Big God and that I still thought Eden could be born whole and healthy. I think this bothered the Dr. and I understand why. Science has *no* room at all for this possibility.Two ultrasounds and a blood test are pretty clear.

Ironically I left today feeling even more sure God was going to do the amazing with Eden. The sun was shinning and I knew He was with me.

All in all today was a very good day to be Eden's mommy.

Not so strong

2007-06-01T19:35:00.000-07:00

Ever since I put up this blog, and even just before, I have had people saying really wonderful things about my grace and strength... I am touched as those things are merely God showing Himself. Today I want to throw myself on the floor like my not quite two year old and just cry and throw a tantrum.

I knew when we decided to give God full reign over the Eden there could, potentially be a full 5 months of waiting and uncertainty... I wondered to some friends when or if the day would come that all the peace would crumble... I still have peace but today is not so bright as a few that have passed.

If you had asked me even 4 days ago I'd have told you I felt really good, emotionally and physically. That I fully expected a miracle and my baby girl to be born whole... today I am a lot less certain. Today my faith is far more weak.

Today is the day I press in further with my Jesus and let His strength hold me up.

God moved in big ways this week with two babies, yet still in the womb. One child nearly confirmed as ectopic was found safely hanging out in the womb and one who's labor had begun too soon was stopped as suddenly as it started... and I do honestly rejoice and find comfort in those two big blessings. But if I am truly honest, part of me is jealous too. I am stuck right in the middle of my storm and I too, want word that my baby is whole and everything is okay. I want my waters calmed.

I was sharing with some ladies the other day, that I don't believe I will see Eden's healing until the moment she is born. I will have at least one more scheduled ultrasound, but I feel like God is whispering to me not to rely on those to show me. So in a way I fear them...

It is hard to rejoice in my pregnancy, even though I rejoice in Eden. It is hard to not feel just a little bit sad when I feel her constant movement. I so deeply believe she will be born whole, but there is still a very human part of me that can't let go of what I've been told is her prognosis. So I delight and mourn every roll and kick.

God reminded me tonight of so many of the "classic bible stories", the ones even my unsaved family and friends would know... Most of the biggest miracles came after longer periods of intense suffering... The woman who had bled for 12 years (Luke 8: 42-44) Mary and Martha who watched their brother die and buried him (John 11) Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego (Daniel 3) The father who's daughter was ill and died (Luke 8: 40-56) and so many more...

I am in the midst of my trial, and only God can carry me through.

Also, a lesson I learned this week... This trial is not mine or my family's alone.

We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about the hardships we suffered in the province of Asia. We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of life. Indeed, in our hearts we felt the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead. He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will continue to deliver us, as you help us by your prayers. Then many will give thanks on our behalf for the gracious favor granted us in answer to the prayers of many.

2 Corinthians 1: 8-11

God has put my family on this path, and at times it feels lonely, but he has put us here with our church family as well. And not just those who sit next to us in the pews but in churches all over the world... that when we testify of His amazing and wonderful healing of my sweet baby girl, when we see her chasing her siblings up the aisles in the church sanctuary, that all The Church will be edified. That we proclaim God's healing power and many more will come to know Him. And many more will be healed...

Please continue to pray for us, as each day seems to bring a new hurt, a new phone call trying to tear into our decision, another reminder of what we are to endure.

Out of the mouths of babes...

2007-05-30T16:10:00.000-07:00

A month ago my biggest worry was the flaky plumbing in my new house. And it wasn't even a serious worry because I'm a renter, so I didn't have to foot the bill to fix it.

Today I am wondering if this is all too much for my older kids. If I am being selfish or cruel to them or Eden. I believe in my heart of hearts, and in the deepest recesses of my spirit, that this is the absolute right thing to do, but when those kinds of arrows are flung at you... it hurts.

I have spent the last several days really feeling good and confident, but today it just all fell apart.

First came the phone call. The one where I was told all about how little sense this all made. How I was hurting my older kids and how waiting was going to make everything harder on them. How it was cruel to keep Eden with me. How I should just let her go...

And then the talk with the teacher about my oldest and how out of sorts and disobedient he's been. The compassion for how he's feeling, but at the same time needing to get his behavior under control. And his long, hard, ugly cry on the way home about every "bad thing" that happened this week... the cry that ends with how much it hurts him to think about his sister who might die.

So I begin to wonder if somewhere I've made a colossal mistake and I ask him again about the impact of waiting... and he explains how it's better to wait because if they take her out now she *will* die but if we wait she could be okay. And that hope was better...

I always knew God used our children to teach us great lessons, but this was again, so true.

Jer 29: 11 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.

I can only trust in God to bring prosperity in this situation. Nothing on earth will bring me the hope I so desperately need. So desperately cling too in moments like this.

I keep going back to Lazarus...

2007-05-23T19:35:00.000-07:00

I don't claim to be a bible scholar. I wish I were...but I just know there is so much to be learned from taking these steps everyday.

When I wake up in the morning and open my eyes...I am trying to remember to thank God I am on this journey. I mean it's not one I'd have chosen. It's not one I ever anticipated could be a good thing... but I am strangely excited by it.

I know it's all the prayer, as so many people I love and who support me, have spent, and continue to spend countless hours on their knees.

My prayer time is disjointed at best. I am trying to find my quiet place with God, time to be alone and really focus, it's not easy. And my words run out often and I am just left with the name of Jesus and a prayer shawl wrapped around me.

For whatever reason, God has put me and my family in this place, with this struggle, at this time. Several of you have commented on my strength, it is not *mine*...it is wholly given by God and I really don't understand it. I suppose this is "the peace that passes understanding".

Philippians 4: 4-8

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.

I am excited about what God will do on this journey. In me, In my husband, in my children... I am prayerful that this will impact my extended family as well. I am prayerful that I will bring my sweet baby into an extended family of believers. Of course I always think I know how God *should* operate... and spend a lot of time trying to convince Him my plan is the best.

Just like Mary and Martha with Lazarus...

John 11:21 and 32

21 "Lord," Martha said to Jesus, "if you had been here, my brother would not have died.

32When Mary reached the place where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said, "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died."

But sparing Lazarus was not His plan. God could have prevented this with Eden. He could have knit her together whole from the very beginning. He could have taken her early to avoid this painful period, He could have caused her never to be conceived in the first place...

Sparing Mary and Martha any hurt was also not His plan. Oh how I wish being a Christian got me a "get out of pain free" card, but sometimes being a Christian brings pain all it's own. Rejection, judgement, misunderstanding...

I know also that my pain causes God's heart to grieve.. just as John, chapter 11, speaks twice of Jesus' heartbreak before Lazarus' tomb. He knew that in a matter of moments the pain of those who loved Him and whom He loved would vanish...but still he wept for them.

Just as He now weeps for me.

I have mourned my daughter just as Mary and Martha mourned their brother. I pray He calls Eden from the grave as He did Lazarus... and I pray that when He does this people will turn to Him and accept the gift He so wants to give.

A little more

2007-05-22T14:19:00.000-07:00

One of my main concerns as we faced the decision on whether or not to carry Eden to term was the impact it would have on the older kids...

Sunday, while running errands as a family, I stole a few moments with my oldest son, nearly 9 years old... When we had first told them the baby wasn't going to be able to live, they asked very few questions. Just cried... the questions came in the next few days, eventually asking where she was. I explained she was still in my tummy but the Dr might need to help get her out.

So I spoke to my oldest about how it would make him feel if I continued to get more and more pregnant but Eden was still not able to survive. His answer surprised and comforted me... He stated very matter of factly "I think that would be better. Because if the Drs take her out too soon she might still be alive and that wouldn't be good." It was so simple but so true. That wouldn't be good... not for any one of us. Mind you, for the few days I had lived with the decision to terminate I had reminded him after his prayers that Eden be okay, "I don't think that's going to happen buddy." Here was this honest and sincere childlike faith, and I was trying my best to fit it in the box I had constructed. His answer was always the same "Yeah, but it could." We have always tried to instill in the kids God's amazing ability to heal... they pray for ever cold and boo-boo, to him, this is no bigger.

Then yesterday I had a moment with my daughter, now she is my baby who loves to raise her hands and worship, or sit on her special prayer mat... but, I never really know how deep it goes with her. She is a special little girl with a certain depth to her I sometimes have a hard time figuring out. I remember her tears once as she confessed shed never actually heard God when she prayed. I remember explaining to her that it takes practice to hear Gods voice, and that every time she felt the inclination to be kind, loving, or do what's right, she was hearing the voice of God.

Yesterday I asked her the same thing about how she would feel... she paused a bit. I don't think she's terribly comfortable with the idea as it seems a little odd. But she looked at me and said "I think, but I'm not sure, I think God told me she'll be okay. 'cuz I heard a voice." That last part she said pointing to her temple.

I had to fight tears as I said "Well baby, I sure hope you are right." Now I don't know if this was the voice of God she heard, but I don't doubt it could be. I never underestimate the prayers of a child.

10 days ago my whole world changed...

2007-05-21T09:21:00.000-07:00

11 days ago I was a wife and mother to three, expecting a fourth child in October. I had the next year or so planned, how we work things out over the summer season and how our daily schedules would jive with a newborn come the fall...

11 days ago I made an appointment for a followup ultrasound. I had some irregular pre-natal testing and my doctor seemed most convinced I was having multiples or my dates were way off... I had no idea what could possibly go wrong. I am low risk for every anomaly that I had been tested for. So 11 days ago I started preparing myself for the possibility of twins.

10 days ago I walked into an overcrowded waiting room and everything changed.

By the time I'd met with the genetic counselor I knew something *could* be wrong. I still didn't expect it to be. I consented to an amniocentesis, in case I needed one to further clarify ultrasound results. I didn't even do that amnio. The Dr performing the ultrasound took a quick peek and then started talking about moving me to a different room to see more clearly... she also started whispering with the nurse about how I wouldn't need the amnio and I felt relived. I made a joke about not really wanting one anyway. The Dr. Turned to me and said "Oh, I've already seen the anomaly and it is very clear without the amnio. That's why I'm moving you to the next room, so you will see it better. But i have to finish with a patient in there." and she left.

In that instant everything went haywire. Something was wrong with my baby... and I was left to wonder for what seemed like an eternity, but was in reality only a few minutes , what could possibly be wrong. I wondered what kind of special care my child might need.

When they transferred me over to the next room and squirted more warm jelly on my stomach the Dr, I hadn't caught her name, I think she told me but I missed it entirely, anyway, she proceeded to measure things like leg bones, heart valves...beautifully beating heart valves... and various other body parts. The whole time she did this I searched for anything that looked misshapen or wrong. Finally she told me what had happened to my child... it's skull hadn't fused and the brain had never developed fully. There was a brain stem but little to no fore brain... the part of your brain that basically makes you a person. I was stunned.

She then, proceeded to explain that the baby I was carrying would likely not survive pregnancy, and had little chance of lasting even an hour after birth. She gave me technical terms and prognosis, and whys... but all I heard was my baby wasn't going to live. After she had explained all this, had told me all the various reasons "termination" was suggested, she asked me if I had any other questions... "Is it a boy or girl?" She seemed surprised I wanted to know but confirmed what I thought I'd seen a few weeks earlier in a different ultrasound..."A girl".

I walked out of that office with everything in my head swirling... I had to tel my husband, I had to tell my two oldest children, I had to get home, I had to make decisions. I knew only one thing, I knew her name... Eden Rebekah had just been given a terminal prognosis.

As a Christian, and actually even before I ever accepted the Truth of Jesus as My Savior, I had always held firmly to the belief that life begins the moment a sperm meets egg. You may not agree, I'm not asking you too. This is not the place for that argument. I never thought there was a moment the switch flipped. I also didn't think it was the "right" of anyone to end that life. I knew there were exceptions... ectopic pregnancies need to be ended, if a mother's life is jeopardised... I was pretty sure those were the exceptions. But now, here was this whole new, and vast, and murky grey area I never knew existed. My baby, my baby can not live outside my body. Not now, not 22 weeks from now. Not ever.

So my husband and I were faced with some enormous realities and even bigger decisions.

We prayed for discernment and we prayed for hope. We prayed for miraculous healing for our baby. We felt lost. We felt we'd lost her already.

We did decide to have a confirmation ultrasound, you can't do something this enormous without a second opinion. The confirmation was just that, confirmation. No skull, no brain... but a beating heart.

We cried and consulted my wonderful OB. The options she laid out were termination or carrying the baby, knowing all along she wouldn't survive. I imagined 5 more months of that kind of pain, I wondered what I would do if any of my three older children were on life support with no hope of survival... I would let them go. We decided to let Eden go... my heart broke at the thought but it seemed right... or as right as things could seem.

All this time I had friends and church family pulling for a miracle. Praying and holding my family up. One friend told me that on that Sunday (two days before the confirmation) that God had revealed to her that Steven and I were like Moses who couldn't hold our arms up on our own to fight this battle but that she and others were being like Aaron and Hur, holding us up. (Exodus 17: 8-12)

So Tuesday we decided that we would make the heartbreaking decision to end the pregnancy. I was broken at the thought. My dr said she would call with the information that day... and that day the information didn't come, nor did it come the next day. Finally I called on Thursday, after my husband had returned to work. He'd taken off that Monday through Wednesday... I wrote the information on a pad of paper on my desk... I didn't call.

Friday came and went... I didn't call. And for the first time in a week I felt like I could breathe.

Saturday I talked to my husband and we decided to wait until this busy time at work was passed to make the appointment... and again I felt like I could breathe. I even went to a wedding reception and had a good time. My first real outing since this whole thing began.

A good friend of mine said to me on Friday "I'm just worried about you. I don't know how you will live with having made this decision." It wasn't said in judgement or to sway me. It was said in love. And I realized in that moment, I couldn't. I had begun to beg God, not for healing but for a miscarriage. I realized the terror I had at facing such a difficult choice. Even if my daughter has no conscious thought, can not feel pain, will never be whole, I can't make a choice to end her life.

Yesterday was Sunday, it was the first Sunday back at church, just nine days after the initial diagnosis. Service always starts with a time of singing and worshiping God with Song. My husband plays flute with the worship team and I sit with the kids. I had barely made it though the first song when my hear began to overflow with love and praise for my savior. Yes, this all sucks, but God is still God. he still created the heavens and the earth. He will still cause good to come from this. It is an accordance with his promise in Romans 8:28 "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose" I began to raise my hands in surrender to Him and at that moment I remembered the words of my friend a week earlier, about being able to hold my own hands up. I sang out to a song which said ...

Lord reign in me

Reign in your power

Over all my dreams

In my darkest hour

You are the Lord of all I am
So won't you reign in me again

Over every thought

Over every word

May my life reflect the beauty of my Lord

'Cause you mean more to me than any Earthly thing

So won't you reign in me again

I have sung this song a million times in my Christian life, but this was the first time i understood what it was to ask God to have his way over "every dream" in "my darkest hour". Because this hour...this hour is dark and I do have dreams.

We had a missionary couple speak and very briefly did they mention this one thing. Jesus as Healer. They said something to the effect that when we "proclaim Jesus as healer" we have done our part. He then does his part...He does the healing.

Later, after service, I did go forward for special prayer... as my pastor explained to the couple the story of my sweet baby, I sensed a brokenness in him. I grew up with his daughter, spent much of my teens in his house, and I could see that this was hard for him as well as for me. As he explained Eden's missing skull and brain the female missionary simply said "Is no problem." With such authority, such faith. They prayed for me, for Eden, and for my family. They prayed that she be "whole" they Declared her as whole and prayed peace for my husband and I.

Up until this point I hadn't yet talked to Steven about my desire to carry the baby until God brought a natural end. It wasn't even because I expected a miracle, I just didn't feel right about the choice.

On the way out to lunch after service we began to speak about the prayers of the couple, the words of encouragement from our church family, and where our hearts were leading. It came as a great relief to me to have Him agree with waiting indefinitely.

It's hard to explain but I am both fully confident God will heal Eden, and fully confident that if He doesn't this is the right choice.

I imagine being able to call my mother from the hospital and tell her of her healthy granddaughter. Of God's grace and mercy and his miracles. I wonder what challenges will come with parenting a child whom God has used like this. Asking God, just this morning, that i would have wisdom with parenting her. And then in the same moment preparing my heart to say goodbye, again.

This morning, as if to confirm what was happening in my heart I received this email...

In Daniel 3, there is the common story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. King Nebuchadnezzar throws them into a burning fire for not bowing down to his gods. In Daniel 3: 16-18 the three God followers reply, "O Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you. I f we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God whom we serve is able to save us. He will rescue us from your powers, Your Majesty. But even if he doesn't, Your Majesty can be sure that we will never serve your gods or worship the gold statue you have set up."

I am sure you are familiar with the story. In the bible study the three God followers thought of two options that God would move in their troubling situation. Scenario A: We can be delivered from the fire. Or scenario B: We can be delivered by the fire into His arms. But the message talked about another solution. A way that God moves that catches us off guard. Something that shows us that He is the one in control, and He knew the whole time. Instead, scenario C happened: They were delivered through the fire. The story is that God met them in the fire. He kept them safe, that even though they were tied up so that they could not shield themselves they were not hurt. In fact in the end as they were called out of the fire it was recalled by the King that they didn't even smell of smoke.

Sometimes I would like to tell God that I only want him to deliver me from the fire. I don't really want to go through any pain or anxiety. I pray so much that God will help you that way. I pray so much that God would heal your little baby like he healed the women who was hemorrhaging. She had so much faith that she knew if she just touched the hem of his garment she would be healed. I don't know if I have that much faith, but I pray that God will do it for you. I pray that God will touch that head that is rested in you and bring it whole. But sometimes God works other ways either delivering that baby into His arms or delivering us through the fire. I wish I knew.