Just Maybe...

This post, as well as several others have been floating around in my head for some time now, and this one in particular needs to be released! We have been sooo busy lately.  Not the usual busy, but a different kind of busy.  The reason for our new found busy - ness will have to wait for another day... another post. (This time I will try not to let 6 months pass between posts :) This is a story that needs to be told - a story of God's gifts.

The setting: A family reunion weekend in my hometown.  A weekend filled with hugs and laughs, questions and stories, and just a special time to spend with aunts, uncles, nephews, siblings, parents, and other relatives. 

The time: Archer turned one the wednesday before, August 3rd, but we weren't able to celebrate his birthday yet, with a cake and candles and the hoopla that is so fun with a first birthday.  We had hoped we would find time over the weekend with family, but we also had a big family picture, and we didn't know if it would all work out.

The characters --- aka - the people: My family. I have three sisters and one brother.  We are all married with 2, 3, 4, and 4 children. Paige is my littlest sister and she is only 14 - needless to say she is not married or with child, but she is the coolest aunt any of the 11 nephews could ask for, and a pretty sweet aunt for the two nieces in the group. She is also a pretty special sister, and she closes the age gap between parents, siblings, nephews and nieces better than anyone --- playing with the youngest and keeping up adult conversations with the oldest.  Such a fun dynamic for any family to have. My mom married my stepdad after my dad passed away when we were all younger.  With all of the sorrow and confusion of losing a parent, I am not sure that his transition into our family was an easy one, but I have thanked God many times for the gift this man has been in my life.

The place:  My family's farm... really a big house in the middle of farmland, much of which is farmed by my brother and stepdad.  A beautiful spot with a view to the East that is usually breathtaking, but especially so in the summer with the fields full of life --- waves of grain, there is a reason it is called "the heart of the country."

The realization: I miss her more when we are with our whole family.  When all are accounted for - each with his or her respective family.  It is at these times that I miss Amelia the most.  It is as if I am aware of her absence in a different way. I don't know why really.  I mean, I am used to our family now. The three boys, P and I. It is familiar.  We miss Amelia... we always will.  But it feels normal. Sad but true, it feels normal.  I am used to it. 
As we were each lining our families up for photos, and placing people and moving this one over a smidge - you sit, no - stand here, scoot a little further in..... smile everyone - look here --- CHEESE! 

The clouds: As soon as we headed back towards the house these clouds are building... and building... and pretty soon it is a massive wall cloud that everyone is ooohing and aaahing at.  I have never seen anything quite like it.

The party: So the pictures ended and we all head back into the house for cake and ice cream. We will have time for Archer's birthday cake and singing after all, and we are also going to sing happy birthday to a couple others who recently had birthdays as well.  But first --- to Archer.  I mean, it is his FIRST birthday, and he was also borderline sleepy because it was nearing his bedtime. So on with the party

The backstory: So we called Archer our rainbow baby, and you can read about why from this post, when I first introduced him to you on this blog -  http://hisgraceabides.blogspot.com/2010/05/introducing-our-newest-love.html  When I think about Archer, my heart swells.  Each and every day I feel blessed to call him my son.  I love all of my children, that goes without saying, but the past year with him has been precious.  He has the sweetest demeanor - so content.  And at the same time a ham.  What a precious gift - a precious rainbow baby, now filling our lives with so much joy.

The answered prayer: After the birthday song is done, and the candles were blown out (by Owen before Archer grabbed the flame) Archer is diving into his cake, and we are passing out cake and ice cream bowls. Someone looks to the East out the wall of windows at my parents' house and there in the sky, where the dark clouds had been was not one rainbow, but TWO.  Arcing over the horizon in majestic form, I tried to not let the tears fall.  I tried to smile - because how can you not smile when you see a cake covered face of your baby, and frosting smushed between every finger, and him grinning from ear to ear.  Slowly, I look around to see faces caught off guard, some tear filled eyes, and more love in one room, so much so that my heart hurts. My mom says, "I prayed that God would send us a sign of Amelia today, during our pictures". She is missed not just by P and I when we are all together - the whole family.  God answered her prayer, and His timing is perfect in all ways at ALL times.  And if you could have seen those rainbows, you would agree with me that God is a bit of a show-off. Oh how He loves us.

Pictures hardly do justice to the naked eye view of things, but you can see the span of the rainbow in the top photo, and you can catch a glimpse of the larger second rainbow on the picture below. Thank you Jason and Cindi for the photos :)

The gift:  This is the part of the post that has kept swirling in my head, and swirling and swirling.... and I'm just not exactly how to write it.  I tried to tell my friend Jane about it the other day, and she "got it" because good friends do even if it doesn't make any sense when you say it, and even if you can't talk right because you are crying.  Thanks, Jane.  You see, the gift of a child in most peoples' minds starts from the very beginning. When you find out they exist, even before you know when they will arrive, before you know if they are a boy or a girl, your mind starts thinking about him or her.  You imagine diapers and blankets, and giggles and cries.  You think of all the things you can teach him or show her, the talks you will have, the memories you will make.  The gift of a child is all the joys that you will have when raising them.  The funny things that are said, and the cute faces that are made.

The gift of Amelia was harder to understand.  It took awhile to see that even her short life was a gift to us.  As short as it was we were blessed to have known her, to have prayed for her as her heart beat within me, and to have felt her kick, and to have seen her move and roll on the ultrasound screen.  All things that we would never have wished away.  Better to have had her for a short time than not at all.  To most people we are a family of all things boy, but we know there is a sweet little girl who holds a very special place in our family.  A touch of beauty that we were only able to hold for a little while - born sleeping in our arms, living in heaven this glorious day. 

It is so impossible to explain, but just maybe, her gift to us is unfolding... little bits at a time.  A quiet moment that P and I have in a bustling room filled with wedding goers and joyous hugs and smiles, and we miss her.  Our eyes wet as tears dare to fall and our throats burn. And we share a closeness, a moment that I can't love him anymore than I do at that moment, and just maybe that is another gift to us from the One who made her.  Just maybe she was never meant to jump and play in our home, but to bring us closer to eachother, to help us love our boys better.
I stand in my mom's living room and I peer at the double rainbow outside in all its beauty and think, just maybe... this was the gift we were meant to recieve.  Tears roll down my cheeks, and I think --- this is a gift.  We dreamed of the gift of giggles in the hall and squeals at dinnertime.  Of curly pigtails and dresses and sparkly shoes. Those gifts are truly gifts - we are sure, but we are also sure that Amelia has allowed us to recieve gifts a plenty if we would only wait for them, and realize them. A gift to sisters and a mom who live states away from eachother, and yet we share tears and hugs at the sight of a rainbow-filled sky.  Our differences melt away with hugs and smiles as heaven is brought close. As we share a sorrow, we receive a gift of closeness.

I think about heaven more.
I think about what our lives mean here on earth more.
I think about what God wants of me this day - for His kingdom's purpose.
I talk about her and I mention God and heaven to people I may have been afraid to before.

Just maybe the gift of a child is sometimes not what you dream of at all. Just maybe the sickness or death of your loved one is not what you feel is the best plan for your life or his or hers. 
Sometimes life is not anything close to what we imagined it would be. I am still learning about our Creator and His love for us.

I will always be thankful for the gift of Amelia, the gift that is still unfolding in our lives.

The bottom line, I trust the Gift-Giver.  The Giver of all things. 

Two babies: one in our hearts, one in our arms...

When I started looking through pictures of Archer, and seeing him welcomed by his brothers and dad, it was such a blessing to see their joy.  Joy that was anticipated a year ago with Amelia, and stopped short when she arrived. I have these two pictures that are similar, and yet so very different.  How we talked about her arrival for weeks and months prior, telling the boys how things would change once she arrived. Not just "the boys" anymore...

Nothing prepares you to try and explain birth, a new sibling - now in heaven, and the realities of death to an almost three and almost four year old.  It is impossible to hide your emotions, nor should you try, I guess...  I remember the tears rolling down my sweet husband's face when he showed Amelia to O-dog.  I'm not sure my heart hurt more than at that moment.  How different it was this time around.  We will never forget, but we can't let that overshadow enjoying every minute with our youngest.

This time around it was such a joy to share Archer with them.  They asked questions and just stared at him. They told strangers about him, whether or not they wanted to know or not.  A man in the elevator gets the full scoop on their new brother. "His name is BABY" says O-dog.  "And his middle name is BABE" adds Ev-babe.  My mother telling me how they just beamed as they told the man about their new brother, who was named "Baby Babe" at that time, apparently. In some ways I feel that the addition of this new sibling, alive and well might be a healing balm for their hearts.  I know that O-dog certainly doesn't hold back from telling Archer how much he loves him.  They both hug and kiss him, and practically smother him with their bodies attention.  He is almost 6 weeks old, and he is still getting oodles of love. 

As for me... There are times when the grief seems to hit me like a ton of bricks.  One minute I am beaming at my new son, and then wham-O.  I never seem to know when it is coming, and I guess that is just the way it always will be.  The other day I was checking for a stinky surprise in Archer's diaper, and I was blown away by the fact that I didn't ever change Amelia's diaper.  I know she had one on. A tiny little pampers swaddler, with a yellow stripe down the butt.  I took it off and put it back on once.  Did she have the same one on the whole time?  Was it the same diaper she wore under the dress she was buried in?  Why didn't I check?  Why would you?  I don't know... There are just things that I never thought about before, but now that I have a newborn in my arms, I think about them.  I forgot about all of the squeaky sounds, the sharpness of their little nails, and how their legs don't seem to unfold even when you pick them up.  It is healing for me to hold our sweet little Archer, to dream about the days ahead with our three sons.  And yet, while he is in this newborn stage, I also can't help but think of our daughter, forever a newborn in our memories.  Forever the child who is very much a part of a family, yet is present only in our hearts. 

I miss you, baby girl.  You have a little brother, now... you are a BIG sister...

I know you know.

August 3rd... sweet Archer's story... part 1.

I slept for the first couple of hours of this day, in my own bed after supper out with my hubby. The rest of it was an emotional roller coaster, ending with a sweet baby boy nursing in my arms, with a quiet hummm of hospital sounds.

I woke up at about 2:20 am and as I frequently did, I had to go to the bathroom, but before I ventured out of bed, I waited to feel little one... a move, a kick, something... nothing.  This had happened before with him, and usually I would talk myself into "everything's okay" you are just being a worry-wart, and eventually I would feel him, or at least have enough peace about it that I would be able to go back to sleep.  I don't know if it was my escalating hormones, or the fact that I was having braxton-hicks so frequently, or maybe it was just my memories of Amelia.  I was beside myself. I have a doppler, but it was not a comfort as I didn't know if I was finding his heartbeat or mine. I knew that mine was fast, and his (if it was his) seemed slower than normal.  Possibly because he was being squeezed by constant contractions.  Paul was awake already, and knew something was bothering me.  I will admit I cry at odd times (I am a woman) and because he is the most perceptive male I have ever met, he knew this was different.  To be honest, I think we were both ready for this little one to be here, and both of our nerves were shot (a few months ago, actually).  He said, "let's go in".  I didn't hesitate, and with boys in tow, cute as bugs in a rug, asking from the backseat "why aren't we sleeping?" we were off.

Okay - back up ten minutes...  This is not only Archer's story, not only the story of our rainbow baby, but it is God's story too.  I had a moment when you just know it's God, because it could ONLY be God.

I would like to say that God knows.  He knows, He always knows.  Before I officially woke up Paul (he was already awake wondering why I wasn't getting back into bed), my phone buzzed - a text message. Seriously? At 2:31 am, at the exact moment I was up and crying and worried sick in the middle of the night, I get a text message from my big sister who lives two states away. This is what it said,
     --------------     "Praying for you:-) and your boys".       -------------------
I know God knows me, I know He knows my story, my every need before I know it, but sometimes He shows me He knows it.  I love it when He does that. I love how He knows each one of us.  When we doubt He does, and when we wonder if He is even real, He knows... and loves us anyway. 

I guess this is the end of part 1, because I haven't figured out how to nurse Archer without using atleast one of my hands, nor do I have the patience to type with only one hand.

To be continued...



 

Thankful for 35 weeks and 94 years

I don't think there are many people who don't know what we are having, but in case you are in the dark, we are expecting a boy.  I am a little over thirty-five weeks along, and have been going in for weekly non-stress tests for a few weeks already. I will continue to go in every monday until August 6th, which is our planned c-section day. 

I know that God has the number of our days planned before any of them come to be, and as 36 weeks nears, I can't help but think about Amelia's last moments on earth.  I would be lying if I said I don't worry as that day approaches with this baby.  I wonder how long his heart will beat upon this earth. I think about the sweet man who turned 94 last month, the man my husband calls "Grandpa Art". The man who is ready to go home... his heavenly home, and yet his heart beats here.  I think of this little man inside of me, and I worry that his heart won't beat another 4 weeks, and I don't know why I worry... Maybe his heart will beat for more than 94 years. Maybe he will have the chance to marry a Godly woman, raise children for the Lord, hold and know his great-grandchildren, and minister to his family for decades, like Grandpa Art. 

Art feeding Ev-babe, at the young age of 90.

Only God knows what is in store for Art and baby boy, these two that I have been thinking of so much lately.  And His ways and thoughts are higher than mine, and more importantly He is faithful and trustworthy.  So I will not worry, but pray for my own lack of trust, and rest in His plan for each of these men.               

Baby boy

35 weeks and 1 day

You have to look around the grey blobs in front of him, but it is worth it. 

Love these sweet little lips - can't wait to kiss 'em!

I could stare at this little smirk all day...  I am going to feel bad when his birth actually happens, because I am going to throw his peaceful, happy little world upside down. (Okay, so I will only feel a little bad, or in O-dog's words - "a tiny, piny, peeny" bit bad)

There are so many emotions swirling around his arrival, and I know that it is only by God's grace that I am able to experience the unabandoned excitement for his tangible entry into our world, into our arms, into our home... It doesn't happen every moment of everyday, that I am able to feel so much anticipation for him without reservation, but when it does, I admit I embrace it whole-heartedly. I have to. He deserves that - this little man...

I am thankful for the 35 weeks and 2 days I have had so far with this little one, and how my heart aches for more, and is ready for years to come with him.  Nonetheless, I am still thankful, for today.  I am also thankful for Amelia's 36 weeks.  Thankful I am her mom.  Thankful that her heart beat here for 36 weeks, even if it broke mine.

And as for Grandpa Art, who just turned 94, the one in the hospital bed a state away, I can only pray that we are all so blessed to touch as many lives and hearts as he has.  If you knew this man, you would know that he is still touching lives, and there are probably nurses who just met him who will remember his spirit for a long time to come.  We all have our God-given jobs to do, and he knew his.  He was as focused on the heavenly prize as anyone, and no matter when he is made whole and healthy again in heaven, and his heart stops beating here, we can all be thankful for the gift... the treasure of however many years we knew him of the 94 he had on this earth. 

Introducing our newest love...

Here is the new little lovey in our hearts, who happens to be residing in my womb until early August.  We are excited, and anxious, all at the same time.  

                                      

I can't help but see Ev-babe in this last profile pic. However, the other ones look more like O-dog to me, and to be honest when we were having the ultrasound done, when I looked at the first shots in 3-d, all I could see was Amelia's face.

A baby who was conceived after a baby that was stillborn, miscarried, or who died as a newborn is sometimes referred to as a "rainbow baby".

I found a post on babycenter.com that describes it beautifully.

"Rainbow Babies" is the understanding that the beauty of a rainbow does not negate the ravages of the storm. When a rainbow appears, it doesn't mean the storm never happened or that the family is not still dealing with its aftermath. What it means is that something beautiful and full of light has appeared in the midst of the darkness and clouds. Storm clouds may still hover but the rainbow provides a counterbalance of color, energy and hope.     ~Courtney

I know that this new little love is a gift from God, and that no matter how long we are able to hold this one, a gift is still a gift, and the joy and love we have experienced from this new little cutie has been a "rainbow" to us during our storm.