This is our family, our story and our journey, seeking God's kingdom and sharing a thought or two along the way. The beautiful, the ugly, thoughts, prayers, life. Thanks for coming along and bearing with us as we think, chat, and share life together.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
I will enjoy
Today I am learning that it is okay to have good days. It is okay to enjoy time with Jacob, and with Matt. It is okay to truly be happy and that does not disrespect our dear Micah or our dear Rene. It is okay to laugh until I cry at Jacob's witty humor. It is okay to rest. It is okay to take a break from grieving and breathe. It doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt. I doesn't mean that I have forgot or will forget our dear babies, but it reminds me there is still life, there is still hope, there is still love. If I was forced to forget our dear babies, I couldn't, they are entwined with me and a part of who I am and who I am becoming. Therefore, I cannot forget them by accident, so it's okay, I think it's okay... it needs to be okay to take a breath and to enjoy.
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
I will write
All I want to do tonight is to go into our dark bedroom, pull the sheets over me head and cry. But instead, I will write. I will write because there may be someone out there someone that needs to know that they are not alone. I will write because our world is hurting and we need to be willing to talk about our emotions, the pain, the anger, the hope and the possibility of healing. I will write because I need to. I need to know that I am not alone. I need to know that somewhere out there, someone is reading about our sweet baby and that maybe, just maybe they are sad for us too. I will write because its how I process and how I remember there is hope and someday there will be healing. We will never get over this, or past this, but someday, not today and not tomorrow but we will get through this. Scarred, forever changed, with a new soul that will always be a part of our family, but we will carry on. I write because I want Jacob to know that his Mom and Dad grieved his baby siblings and that our hearts were broken when he didn't get to become the big brother that he so longs to be. I write because I long for Jacob to know that he has two sweet little siblings waiting for him in Heaven. I write because I don't know what else to do. But for tonight, I will write. I will cry. I will pray. I will hug my sweet little boy and my amazing love. And for tonight, that will be enough.
Monday, December 17, 2012
This Christmas
Three years and a half years ago I started this blog. Two and half
years ago this blog fell silent. Silent to trying to do the next big
thing, keep up with others and falling to the wayside of life. I have
written other blogs, with specific time frames, purposes and goals. But
tonight, I just want to write. I want to share life. Messy, real,
joyful, tearful, life. I spent a lot of time deciding whether I was
going to start a new blog or breathe life back into this blog and
decided to return to my blogging roots. To write about our family. Who
we are and who we are becoming.
It is the week before Christmas, a Christmas far different from all the others I can remember. A Christmas I am struggling to be excited about. A Christmas marred by death, sadness and darkness that at times feels as if it will be consuming. A Christmas celebrated with loved ones and marked by those who are no longer with us. A Christmas where my empty arms ache to hold the babies that left this world far too soon. A Christmas that changed dramatically last Friday.
I thought that this Christmas would be a time of joy, celebration, hope and life. We would be announcing the upcoming arrival of a new little one in our family. After months of tears, prayers, pain, healing, and hope we were blessed to be expecting another child. We thought everything was going well. Until Friday. My world was thrown upside down on Friday. What started as a normal day ended in us walking a path that we never wanted to walk again. A path that was all too familiar. Our ultrasound on Friday showed a little one that was far too small and had no heart beat. A little one that without a miracle we will never get to hold this side of heaven. It feels like dejavu. So now we stand in the world in between. We stand waiting for the official diagnosis. We stand trying to have hope, daring to hope for a miracle, but broken, numb, shattered, crushed, and angry. But we stand on hope, we stand on the peace of Christ even when it feels very distance, we cling to each other, to family, to friends, to knowing that we will get through this. We will never get over this or past this, but we will get through it. With scars, with healing, knowledge, wisdom and growth we will come out the other side but oh what a long journey it will be.
We will need you. We will need you to walk beside us. We will need it to be okay if we aren't excited this Christmas. We need to know that you will be here, even when we are broken, ugly and messy, even when we aren't who we want to be, you will not walk away. Please be with us in this season. We are blessed to have friends and family who care and carry each other when we can't walk alone. Thank you.
It is the week before Christmas, a Christmas far different from all the others I can remember. A Christmas I am struggling to be excited about. A Christmas marred by death, sadness and darkness that at times feels as if it will be consuming. A Christmas celebrated with loved ones and marked by those who are no longer with us. A Christmas where my empty arms ache to hold the babies that left this world far too soon. A Christmas that changed dramatically last Friday.
I thought that this Christmas would be a time of joy, celebration, hope and life. We would be announcing the upcoming arrival of a new little one in our family. After months of tears, prayers, pain, healing, and hope we were blessed to be expecting another child. We thought everything was going well. Until Friday. My world was thrown upside down on Friday. What started as a normal day ended in us walking a path that we never wanted to walk again. A path that was all too familiar. Our ultrasound on Friday showed a little one that was far too small and had no heart beat. A little one that without a miracle we will never get to hold this side of heaven. It feels like dejavu. So now we stand in the world in between. We stand waiting for the official diagnosis. We stand trying to have hope, daring to hope for a miracle, but broken, numb, shattered, crushed, and angry. But we stand on hope, we stand on the peace of Christ even when it feels very distance, we cling to each other, to family, to friends, to knowing that we will get through this. We will never get over this or past this, but we will get through it. With scars, with healing, knowledge, wisdom and growth we will come out the other side but oh what a long journey it will be.
We will need you. We will need you to walk beside us. We will need it to be okay if we aren't excited this Christmas. We need to know that you will be here, even when we are broken, ugly and messy, even when we aren't who we want to be, you will not walk away. Please be with us in this season. We are blessed to have friends and family who care and carry each other when we can't walk alone. Thank you.
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