Four Months

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

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

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

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.

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

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...

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pressed but Not Crushed

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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?"