It Was the Best of Times; It Was the Worst of Times

Hello all! I want to tell you a story tonight that got me thinking a little bit. Have you ever had one of those moments that seems very small and insignificant, but when you think about it a little more, you see a valuable lesson in it? My high school English teacher called them "ah-ha moments." I had an "ah-ha moment" tonight, and I want to share it with you. Here it goes... true story.

About two years ago Cline and I joined the rest of the Jacksons at a great Cajun restaurant in Atlanta called Papadeaux. It's a very tasty restaurant, and a bit nicer than the ones we usually eat at. But the family was enjoying a rare day together, and that is where everyone wanted to go, so we splurged. I had been to this restaurant maybe once as a child, but hardly remembered it. The meal started off well. We laughed and talked as we do whenever we get together. I mentally argued with myself about whether or not to get sweet tea, which I very much wanted. However, Cline and I had been trying to get pregnant for several months at that time, and I had high hopes that this was the month. I didn't want to do ANYTHING that might jeapordize things and force me to wait a whole 28 more long, agonizing days for this dream to materialize. I ordered my sewage, tasteless nothing, water and excused myself to use the restroom while we waited for our food. As I prepared to answer nature's call, I quickly realized that this was not the month I would be getting that happy, positive pregnancy test (which I had become convinced that my body was physically incapable of producing). I was devastated, as I had been every month prior to that one, and Satan quickly started whispering things like you're never going to be a Mommy and you can pray and hope all you want to, but it's not going to work into my fragile, heart-broken mind. I composed myself, and returned to the table, trying with all of my might to pretend everything was alright. I immediately ordered and guzzled a large glass of sweet tea. Despite my efforts, the rest of the meal was pretty miserable, and I couldn't wait to get to the car so that I could cry and talk things out with Cline.

Fast forward two years. Tonight, we took Cline's brother to the airport. Since we were already in Atlanta, and it was close to dinnertime, we decided to treat ourselves to a nice meal that was not so easily accessible during normal evenings. We discussed several options, and decided on... that's right, Papadeaux. I had not been to this restaurant since that day two years ago. As we entered through the doors, I briefly remembered the not-so-great experience from before, but quickly turned my attention to the tasty food, not giving deeper matters another thought. Cline, Christa, and I enjoyed a delicious meal together, and I downed about 6 glasses of sweet tea without the slightest hesitation. As we were packing up to leave, two kind women at the table next to ours commented on how cute and well-behaved Christa was. We immediately credited our amazing parenting skills, our keen sense of toddler-fashion, pure luck and the Lord's blessing that we do, indeed, have such an enjoyable daughter. They gushed a little more, and as they proceeded to compliment her, my mind immediately compared that proud and joyous moment with the sad and frustrated one two years ago. I mentally thanked God for the wonderful blessing that is my child, and for a few moments, I sat in awe of God's perfect timing for our life. I remembered, as I have many times, that if I had been pregnant that month, or any of the other months I screamed and threw things because life didn't seem to be going my way, then I wouldn't have Christa today - precious, perfect, Christa.

Just over a month ago, our family took a miserable and depressing trip to Myrtle Beach after receiving some shocking and devastating news. A few of you have been nice enough to e-mail me and ask for an update, so here it is. I had the miscarriage the weekend before last. It was quite the unpleasant experience. In fact, as I laid on our bed writhing in pain, begging Cline for an epidural or a strong whack to the head, whichever could be delivered faster, I began to rethink our decision not to have the D&C. But, like all things, the pain subsided after an eternity, an era, a couple of hours. I still have to do some very minor testing in a few weeks to be absolutely certain that my body has returned to normal, but I've essentially been cleared medically. Emotionally, we are doing fine. There is a void in our family now, and a baby (girl, we guessed) will always be missing. But in that void is God's love and peace, and He is taking good care of us. We are enjoying the many gifts in our life, and looking forward to whatever good and perfect things are in store for us. And maybe, just maybe, not too many years from now, our family will return to Myrtle Beach with two precious, perfect blessings.