I Have Hope

I have felt stolen from lately...peace...joy...sanity.  Ok maybe not really the sanity but....maybe really some days.  Peace...joy....hope...have been distant friends replaced by stress...worry...efforts to control...exhaustion....and overwhelm...all great conduits for isolation and funky perspectives.

I was recently encouraged to expect the best...and it challenged me and caught me completely by surprise.  "I'll believe it when I see it" was my first attitude...not in a negative way...just nonchalance.  Today I came across this oldie but goodie verse....I've seen it and heard it a million times. 

"The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full."  John 10:10

The 'renewing of your mind'  is powerful and so necessary.  I have hope...He has come.  I have hope...He has come that we may have life.  I have hope....He has given life to the full.  Hope is a powerful tool.  If you're weary...just tired of what you're facing or tired of facing it...tired of the day to day and feeling like you can't get ahead...have hope.  He has come.  

A little more...A little less

 As a little girl I had big dreams....and as a big girl I have big dreams...but oh how they have changed.  In my childhood I was taught that I could be anything, do anything, reach for anything and achieve it.  I still believe this is true but what wasn't told me was that the "hard work" to achieve these dreams isn't the only thing that is hard...life is hard.  Somehow there was an unspoken, and at times described, picture of life unfolding so beautifully and with ease. The older I get the more I realize this couldn't be farther from the truth.

The truth? Life is hard.  Bottom line.  We ALL face, have faced or are walking toward tragedy. Why does it always surprise us?  Why do we imagine it won't happen? We reach for the stars and find that we often fall instead of landing there.  We compare ourselves to the reports of success we read in our news feeds, emails and to what we see...or what we think we see. Feelings of inadequacy wash over us and we avoid saying hello to our early-bird friends in the carpool line, wondering what they might think of our tired eyes, leftover mascara and breakfast covered tank top.  Isolation starts that easily.

Strangely the only time we connect with these people is when we reveal, honestly, our struggle...and open ourselves up to a world of similarity finding that we all share the bond of hardship, the bond of hope and the need to bear the burden together.

Why is this so hard for us?  We're broken...and we isolate ourselves into a lie just as big as the dreams we are fed as children and told to dream.

A little more honesty...a little more grace for each other...a little more time holding children, reading books to them and joining them on the slip n' slide and a little less time with seasonal decorating for visitors (that come by once a season...maybe??), a little less time scrubbing walls that don't talk and cannot be loved and a little less time stressing our lack.  A little more smiling and a little less comparing.  A little more saving and a little less debt.  A little less of everything that doesn't last...and a lot more of everything that does.  That's my goal...maybe it will involve a smaller house...a less pretty car without leather...fewer clothing purchases and pricey dates with my husband...and a lot less pressure.  It's hard to choose these things...what if friends think we just don't have money? What if they think times are tough and we're really burdened?  And...what if it inspires them to take a deep breath and lighten the load for themselves? Stay tuned...change is a comin'. :)

Waiting to breathe

Many of you know that we opted to bury Aimee with other babies who were stillborn or miscarried at the hospital.  There is a plot of land dedicated to these babies.  A private graveside service was thousands and our only other option was cremation.  This has been a bitter process as they only open the site 4 times per year meaning our baby will not be buried until November.


In some ways there is some respite in not having to have a service just yet...not having to have a final good-bye...and in other ways I know she is gone and would like to have been done with this bit a while ago.  Knowing her body still lies at the hospital and is not "at rest" is unnerving to me.  It almost feels as though she is where she doesn't belong.

I would be lying to say that all is well.  While our life has, of course, moved along with school, summer fun and time together there are moments I stop and pause and feel quite alone in my reflection.  The odd thing about missing a baby you have lost is that no one else knows or knew them.  While Eric held and saw Aimee, he is the only other one.  This is not to say I would have wanted other people to be present for this very sad day...just to say that she matters to me, I love her dearly and miss her deeply. 

Today I was at the gym working out and had a moment of pause...I saw a pregnant woman who was about 6 months along...the same point I'd be in pregnancy had I not lost Aimee...it was hard.  I didn't feel jealous...she isn't carrying my baby and she can't bring her back.  I felt a wave of loss and heartache.  I stared at the base of the elliptical machine and reflected, considered, felt sick over the inescapable truth of it all....and then I finished my workout.

Some days are harder than others...I think November will bring some closure and reawaken some emotions.  It's all part of life. I hope to enter each season, each struggle, each joy, fully....not letting it escape me to be felt and processed at another time.  Each day has enough trouble of its own, right? :)

I will blog about more than this...feel free to tune out until I do....or read along. :)

Finding "ok"...

When peace...like a river...attendeth my way....thou has taught me to say...it is well....it is well with my soul.

Apparently contentment isn't a completely natural response.  It's learned.  I may have missed earlier opportunities to learn this lesson...so here I am relearning it as of late.

Funny...while it's generally accepted that a trouble-free life is not guaranteed, in our culture we expect it.  We have insurance for the what-ifs and plan to never use it, we find it unfair that not everyone can have a cell phone and it seems reasonable for food stamps to be used in local restaurants.  We expect health, wealth and wholeness and there are even whole ministries founded on the idea that anything less indicates a lack of faith.  If you feel disadvantaged, you can fight for legal protections against discrimination.  I could really get on a roll here...you get the point.

The Bible says something else...in fact, what I read today guarantees us that we will have hardship...we see it in the lives of those whose stories have been passed down through the ages...Joseph...Noah...Ruth...John...Mary.  I can't think of a single person whose story is in the Bible that had it easy.  That isn't to say they didn't have it good.  So why do we hold the idea that somehow loving and following Jesus guarantees a sort of safety from the hardships of humanity?  **I have to interject that I DO believe that prayer is effective and God, in his grace, protects, grants grace and favor and guides us in our lives...no doubt about it** what I'm talking about here is the every day, whole life process of being and doing and growing.  So when hardship appears we feel shocked...surprised...wronged.

I have had a few Job moments...reminding myself..."Who do I think I am?" recently...reminded that God owes me nothing...He owes me nothing and gives to me anyway...grace. He loves me. There is nothing I can do or have done to "release" "grow" "improve" His grace toward me...that would make it something other than grace.  He is God and this is evidence of his goodness.

In light of this and when walking through shadowy days, circumstances, situations...I'm left with 2 choices...1) insist on my entitlements of happiness, perfection and beauty. Essentially choose the idolatry of happiness and self-satisfaction or 2) count it all joy...count each blessing...choose to be grateful...give thanks.  I'm finding that looking for the things I can be thankful for in the wake of heartache or in the midst of the day-to-day crazy brings such freedom.  I am not bound to the disappointment of imperfection. I am free to find gratefulness, joy and revelation in the nooks and crannies of life each day. It isn't always pretty or perfect, but it's there.

I am confident that until He restores everything there will be sadness...there may be tragedy...there will likely be heartache...but there will also be freedom, laughter, gratefulness and in this my soul rests.  Life is not easy...but it is well with me. He owes me nothing but in this He has given me everything.

Good stuff.

Starting over with good-bye

The past couple of weeks has been filled with heartache and ups and downs...it seems like just about the moment we feel we've found peace, something new comes along to dig a little deeper and grate a little more on our already raw hearts. At the same time I can honestly say I've felt the prayers of those around us...between the moments of "normal chaos" that sometimes fills a home with 4 little ones I have found grace...and clear headed reflection.

They say when it rains...it pours.  It's been hailing over here I think. :).  We have met with specialists and learned that I have no identifiable issues to cause the loss of our baby...we received the pathology report showing no identifiable concerns with the placenta or baby that would have caused a loss....we  received the chromosomal report revealing a completely normal baby...a completely normal baby girl.  We thought we had lost David Benjamin...and in reality at 14 weeks it was a reach to say for certain he was a boy although the doc felt pretty confident about it.  I had believed in my heart from the beginning that this babe was a girl...and questioned the doctor's opinion in conversations with my husband and mother since then.  So far...I'm 5 for 5 :).



When we heard the news we cried...and ached a little deeper.  Our minds had fixed on a little boy...imagining reunion with our sweet boy...and what his big wonderful eyes must look like...and now we are reworking our thoughts and loss and imagining what we have lost with our sweet girl.

It's sort of like starting over...saying good-bye again and truthfully I will feel like I am holding my breath until her burial.  Until her body is truly at rest I have a hard time not thinking about her little earthen shell stored away in a box at the hospital...and reminding myself she isn't really there in that tiny body anyway.  My imagination is being reframed while I wonder what color her eyes were ...whether they are blazing blue like my sweet Evelyn or soft and brown like my precious Olivia. I imagine her lovely blonde hair..so soft...and her sweet cheeks and long lashes.  I cannot wait to hold her...see her...tell her how we love her...and how grateful we are for her life.  Of course we cannot call her David...Davida? ...not so much :).

In keeping with the meaning of the name...we've decided to call her Aimee which means "loved"...Aimee Noelle as we expected her around Christmas time.

I still ache...and I imagine I always will have this longing in my heart.  It's true that God has put eternity in the hearts of men (Ecclesiastes 3:11).

"He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end."  

She is forever a part of me...a  part of us...a part of our family.  It seems odd and honestly when I have miscarried in the past it has been so different.  Delivering...holding...seeing...touching the baby who did not breathe this side of Heaven is so different.  I could never have understood this without walking this road.  Not a road I would have chosen. She has changed me...forced me to dig deep...to search the depths of my heart and my faith.  Do I really trust that though we live in an imperfect world where "moth and rust destroy"....that He is faithful...just...compassionate...and good?  Do I trust him with my sweet girl while I cannot be near her? It is becoming more and more evident to me how very little control we really have anyway.  I cannot make her grow...I cannot knit her together in my womb...only the hand of God can do that.  I can't know the answer to "why"...and really I don't know that I need to.  It changes nothing.

Today, I am just grateful. Today is what I have in my hands...and I am very simply grateful.  I'm grateful for my children...grateful for my husband...grateful for my family and friends who are so near and dear.  I'm thankful for a home and good schools and my heart overflows to know that in the morning the sun will rise on a home filled with the laughter of children and the loudness of sibling teasing much too early for my pre-coffee mommy ears :).  I am grateful, I am choosing to be grateful,...and for this moment, that is enough.

Miracles do happen

It's been a crazy couple of weeks...moved into a new house July 1, Eric started a new job July 2, lost our baby July 3, tried to resume normal live for the past 10 days.

I tend to be forgetful of little things when life is crazy busy.  Granted, without school and other things that usually occupy my brain I've been feeling rather on top of my game. Clean underwear for the masses, breakfast on the table at a reasonable morning hour and beating my husband to make coffee.  It's the little things :).

I lost a set of car / house / mailbox keys just about the time graduation rolled around in May followed by 2 trips to our house from a key service to unlock a door and then make a key for said door when we couldn't find the original.  This bring us to today...a busy day of unpacking and the usual Smith family craziness.  Seemed like an ideal day to not cook, clean up after or otherwise involve myself in the makings of dinner.  Everybody likes Garbanzo so we were headed there.  Kids dressed, mommy looking human and Daddy all pulled together and out the door.  I walked outside to see E motion that I needed to grab the keys.

I went to the usual place and ...no keys.  Checked the backup "sometimes they land there" spot and nada.  In a house with boxes, toys, furniture, etc. everywhere it doesn't belong this is quite a conundrum. I searched...pulled out the trash and rebagged it piece, by soggy disgusting piece.  Moved furniture, searched in boxes, threw things away, E moved the refrigerator, I searched toy boxes and offered big rewards to any little people who may have played with said keys.  Finally we unloaded the car and ordered pizza as we have not made it to the grocery store in time.  I agonized, wondered if I was losing my mind and chalked it up to stress...called a locksmith who quoted me a discounted $200 rate and mentioned the dealership was more like $600.  I walked in the pouring rain to the mailbox to be sure I hadn't left them there, on top or maybe even in the mailbox. 

Lame.  We have 1 vehicle and so it's important to be able to drive it.

Dinner was over, kids were tired and I had walked into the garage to give it one final look JUST in case I had dropped them or set them down in a moment of "busy".  My sweet husband appeared in the door with a look on his face I have seen before...pink cheeks and a sheepish grin.  Hands in his pockets he said "Babe.....(eternal pause)....I am so so so sorry."  as he pulled my keys out of his POCKET.

He laughed, I wanted to cry and we were both relieved. Olivia exclaimed it was a miracle because she had prayed that God would send us back our keys and they appeared in Daddy's pocket and so...we have had a miraculous day today at the Smith house. :).  Miracles do happen!

In happier news, during all of my searching, I found a lip-gloss I haven't seen in a while. 

The trusting part...

One of the hardest moments I've experienced in this whole loss has been giving Aimee back to the nurse for the last time.  I was a little foggy from anesthesia and whatever else was given to me but I was very present in the moment.  I had asked them to bring her back to us 3 or 4 times because I needed to see her, be near her...touch...inspect...remember.  The last time I gave her back I knew very well she could not go home with me and that what was done...was truly done.  There was no prayer to bring her back to life...no miracle to ask for here.

I felt so afraid about how they would treat her body...whether they would handle her as my baby or handle her as waste.  My sweet nurse reassured me without my questioning that in this Catholic hospital life is respected and honored and each baby is treated with the utmost care.  Of course despite my wishes there was no way for me to insure this would happen (...don't think I'm joking...I would be the crazy Mommy who was present to carry my baby from our room to the fetal demise room and on to the morgue and back up for burial but this was not possible).  I prayed over her and considered leaving a note attached to her blanket and the box she would be in that said  

"This is Aimee Noelle...she is not just a miscarried fetus...she is my baby 

and today she was held and loved and grieved...please treat her with care and respect. 

Thank you for taking care of my sweet baby." 

I refrained....I know her body is simply a body.  I have described to our children that when people die it's simply because their body stops working correctly...then they leave that body here because they don't need it and go to be with the Lord where we will all get a new body that is better. They were satisfied with this answer. I'm not satisfied with that answer...

In my humanity I sometimes find myself lost in earthly ponderings...who is holding Aimee? Is she motherless? Why does someone else get to be the one to hold her? Is she happy? Does she know she is without us? Does she know she was ever being knit together within me? Does she stay a baby? Will her new body be older and more grown up? Does time apply? I wish I could see her...for only a second...see her safe and know "where" she is...and that she is well.  I wish I could send her a love letter to say she is not forgotten and never will be...that she holds her own place in our family, within our children's hearts and within mine and her Daddy's.

There is much I do not know...and so I settle on what I do know and then I make breakfast and remember the laundry and the day-to-day and try not to get too lost in this process. The day goes by and night falls...and then I am left with my thoughts and ponderings again

I find comfort and peace in knowing a few things that I do not question:
1) God is God.  So even if I don't agree or understand or know the details about why things are the way they are...I cannot change the fact that the evidence about his existence and sovereignty is inescapable.
2) I believe He is good and He is truth and love.  In him there is no darkness....and this means Aimee is surrounded by love and light in its purest form.
3) I believe he can be trusted.  He has done much more than simply be trustworthy.  I never was in control to begin with.  I did not knit my children together within my own womb....and I cannot bring Aimee back.  God was and still is in control.  If anything I need to learn to leave my other children at His feet as well. Doing my part and doing my best and relying on God to reach where I cannot.

He gives grace..sufficient grace, and tomorrow His mercies are new.  So good to know for I am deeply in need of both.  Then again, aren't we all? I guess I'm just walking a road that makes me keenly aware of it and maybe this awareness isn't such a bad thing.