Why I stopped praying for a healthy baby

I understand why people do it. Maybe they never have experienced loss or maybe they have and they honestly don’t want to experience it again. No one wants their child to be ill. But what if it is out of your control?

When I read those words, “Doesn’t matter, as long as it’s healthy,” it stirs me up.

Who wants a dog that is sick? Who wants a plant that is almost lifeless? Who wants a sick baby, right?

I do.

I lost my son Aaron due to premature labor and birth. He lived. Oh how he lived.

Aaron means, “strong mountain” and he was just that.

My son. A fighter.

But, sick. Not a “healthy baby”. Fighting every day for his little life. His little lungs trying to gain breath. His body fighting infection.

And I want that sick baby. I want every day I had with him in my womb and in my arms.

And if God should choose to give me another child that isn’t “healthy”, I will want that baby too.

These are my children.

These are little ones that the Father loves so much.

So I stopped praying for a “healthy baby.”

I have seen loss.

And, I have seen life in the midst of loss.

My God takes death and He throws it out on its feet and He brings new life.

Weakness

Fix. Repair. Heal. Resolve. Get better. 

Does weakness make you uncomfortable? Can you handle being in the presence of someone who is less than put together? Whose messy is all over the place?
It can be uncomfortable. How do you act around them? What do you say?

I am that person nowadays. I am the one whose ugly got shown to my whole community. I am the uncomfortable maker.

But Christ...
He says to rest in Him. Come under His wings. Grace abounds. He says His power is made perfect in my weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9).  Paul says he boasts about his weaknesses even more so.

How can I show others that weakness is a gift, I dare say? This broken mess of a woman, who rarely ever has it together---that is a gift from God. That my ugly mess can be used to glorify Him.

I stand in my weakness. I boast in my weakness.

If I could have it all together, than Jesus needth not die for me.

One

One year. 

Dear my Aaron, my strong mountain:

Tomorrow is your first birthday. I'm not quite sure how to celebrate it. But I do know that I miss you every minute. I wake up and you are on my mind. I try to close my eyes to sleep at night but can't for you are on my heart, the memories so fresh in my mind. 

Oh baby, Mommy misses you so much.

The truth is, I am a selfish mama. I really want to hold you and kiss you and tell you how much I love you. I want you in my arms. 

I will never get over you, my darling, for our hearts are forever weaved together.

Mommy is so, so sorry that your lungs were too sick, baby. If I could've breathed into them for you, I would have. 

Mommy is so, so sorry that she couldn't hold you until your last day in this world. If I could've wrapped you up so close to my heart and held you from the moment you came into this world, I would have. 

Aaron James, dance with Jesus. Be cradled and rocked and kissed. Breathe deep the breath of Him. Be held by Him. And know little one, that the same arms that are holding you, are holding your Mama too. 

You are and forever will be loved.  
I love you baby boy.
Love, Mommy

--------------------

Thank you for being there for us. Thank you for remembering. Thank you for holding up our arms.

Grace and peace.

Heart Stirrings

My heart has been stirring. I feel change on the horizon; something big.

Can I be honest for a moment? I am entering a sensitive subject matter and I want to tread through it with grace. I hope you do the same.

Here it goes: Baby #3 has been beckoning me. My heart has been longing deeply to try again.

I go through so many things over and over in my head, from practical to emotional. For example, March of Dimes says to wait 18 months after having a baby before you try again (it hasn't even been a year yet), I need to lose weight, I need a better doctor, I could go into preterm labor again, the baby might have to stay in the NICU for months or I could lose this baby too. The doubts and the questions keep coming.

Am I letting fear control me? I often tell my husband that regardless of how earthly things play out, God is still in control. I could do all things in my power to ensure a healthy pregnancy and I could still lose another baby. Or I could do all things great and I could have a healthy, full-term baby. It is a hard pill to swallow: that nothing I do truly has any factor. Granted, I am trying to do what I can to ensure a healthy pregnancy but still...ultimately, I am not in control. Man, that's so tough.

The same goes for my Aaron. I wanted with my whole being to save him and I could not. There was nothing I could do. Talk about a slap in the face.

I think what I have learned over the last year is that regardless of how I feel, God is still God. And He still loves me. Sin screwed it up. God didn't. God isn't the one to hate. He knows me. He made me! And He came to rescue me. What this earthly life holds for me, I don't know. But I trust in the fact that God will use the ugly or messy parts of my life that sin destroyed, for His glory. Because really, that why I'm here. To be used by Him; to be a lamp on a hill.

How do I deal with these deep stirrings and desires? Keep on waiting till He says go for it.

I am waiting and believing that there's still hope.

Grace and peace.





I know this is somewhat dancing around the subject matter of free-will vs. destiny. Let me say that I am all about free will. I know God has given me the choice to decide how I live my life. I'm just saying that when it comes to life or death, I ain't holding the key. Also, I feel like I need to say that just because I am wanting another baby does not mean I am trying replace Aaron. It is just like any other mother or woman, desiring to grow her family. Except my story has more baggage. 

On getting help

I was inspired by this post by Christine on asking for help.

Man oh man do I need help. I would say that most people do. Yet, we seem to have this wall built up around us. At least I do.

Before Aaron was born, I was very closed off and proud. I had some hurts that I was holding onto and they affected how I viewed people and their intentions. I was bitter and guarded. After Aaron died and even when he was in the hospital, I was a mess. Except this time I couldn't hide it.

It was impossible to go through something as horrible as losing your child and pretend like you are fine. Because let's face it, I was not fine. I was a mess. Raw. My heart broken so much that it felt like physical pain. And needing people. People that saw me in my fragile state and said, "Yes, I will carry your burdens. Yes, I will mourn with you. Yes, I will help you." To say I was humbled would be an understatement. My whole perspective on people changed. I used to buy into the lie that no one could love me. I was too... (you fill in the blank). I thought I was written off. But I wasn't. And neither are you.

Relying on people and getting help is humbling. You have to admit to yourself that you can't do it alone. And you weren't supposed to. God gave us each other. This is a lesson I am learning: It is okay to show your "ugly" side to people. Sometimes you will run into people that feel uncomfortable in the face of your struggles. Yet, I find that most people welcome genuineness as opposed to phoniness.

Satan likes to through that lie to me often; that I'm alone. How could anyone love me? And I'll be honest sometimes I believe it (a lot more than I'd like).  The amazing news is that God destroys this. He loves me. And so do people.

In the face of your struggle, being honest is a good place to start. Be honest with yourself and with others. It goes a long way to healing.

Grace and peace.

Romans 12:15

I was very excited to start this blog. I got into project mode. You know, when you have something on your mind and you can't concentrate on anything else? So I diligently looked up how to fancy up my blog and prepare this space for writing. Yet, once it was finished, I kept coming back, thinking, "It is time to fill this space with words now." But my heart was blank. I just kept looking at the blank, open space and nothing. Nothing came to mind. Well, maybe that's not true. A whole flood of things are always on my mind. But nothing coherent.

The most logical thing for me to write about would be my loss. The loss of my little one, Aaron. The memories still so fresh in my mind. The images rushing through my brain in every moment of the day---when I'm putting his big brother down for nap; when I am changing the laundry; when I am driving around town; when I am at the park, seeing pregnant bellies and little ones all around. I do not resent these babies. I do not resent these mothers.
I used to.

I have a close friend who got pregnant a couple months after me. If you have ever experienced the loss of your baby, you would know how hard it is to watch your friend carry her baby full-term. I didn't want to see her 40+ week belly. And then I didn't want to see a healthy newborn, cooing and soft. I didn't want to be reminded constantly that she has a baby and I do not. But, God is amazing, people. My friend is amazing. Jesus and she kept pursuing me. It is such an awesome example of rejoicing with those who rejoice and mourning with those who mourn. My friend, she mourned with me. She cooked our family meals. She came to the funeral. She watched Ben for us, when we were in the hospital. She kept up with me after the loss of Aaron and invited us out. She is just an amazing friend and I am so thankful for her. The point is, she was there for me. So I was there for her. I organized her meal train for her new baby. I cooked her and her family supper. I bought super, adorable little girl baby clothes. I went to the park with her and her littles. And most of all, I held her little baby girl, and rejoiced with my friend and her husband for their amazing joy. And their joy became my joy.
Besides, that baby girl is so gosh darn cute.

Romans 12:15 (NIV) "Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn."