Monday, June 16, 2014
Thomas's Baptism
Aunt Alicia came to visit for Christmas break. We decided to have Thomas baptized then, so that Alicia could be there more easily. It was a wonderful, special service for our family, and we were glad to share it with both sides of our family.
Pre--Christmas Festivities 2013
Another attempt to catch up on the last 6 months of our lives!
Monday, May 26, 2014
The Blur That Was This School Year (Part 1)
So, I've taken a long hiatus from blogging, as you can see. We are currently in the last week of school, getting ready to begin summer break. I mentally checked out about a month ago when Bible Study wrapped up, followed by Kindermusik, followed by pre-school for the middle girls. We are heading into our final, and not even real week of school, and I am feeling very accomplished that our family survived this year! It was definitely a difficult, character-building year, especially for me, as I adjusted to having 4 kids, very young, but now in very different stages of life with Christa being in "real school." Honestly, I love the results of what this year has done in my own life and in Christa's, as she has grown, learned, and matured beyond anything I would have ever pictured! But I am definitely looking forward to summer break, and plan to do things differently next year, in hopes that next year will be less challenging and more fun! The baby, plus elementary school, plus Cline's shift-work schedule made for the trifecta of difficult adjustments this year! It was also our "sickest" year as a family ever, with the stomach bug making rounds twice, and Strep a few times. Abby Kate came down with some mystery stomach condition, that caused her to throw up about 16 different times in a 3 months period, but scheduling an appointment with a pediatric gastroenterologist seems to have miraculously cured this ailment, as we've had no problems in over a month. However, she missed quite a few school days and fun activities, since we couldn't be sure she wasn't contagious.
As I was saying, it's been a fun and awesome year :) No, in all seriousness, I have much to be thankful for this year. Thomas is a joy, and a very easy, laid-back baby, and I am so very glad he is in our family! He has a toothy grin just like Christa did, Elizabeth's eyes, and Abby Kate's round head. Abby Kate has a special bond with him, as she snuggles up next to him every morning when she wakes up. Christa's school is sweet and wonderful, and after a few months of adjustment, and a learning curve of what is expected of me in the homework/reading practice department, she is thriving, and we are planting roots in our new school home. Cline's schedule.... hopefully is changing before next year, but I am very thankful he didn't have to work very many "extra" shifts this year!
All this to say, we seem to be finding our footing with these new circumstances, at least temporarily, so I am going to attempt to catch up on this blog. Enjoy!
Rushed and impromptu picture with Santa after getting Christmas portraits made. Kids did great! Thomas screamed through the whole interaction with Santa, but that is because he was hungry, and in my new mom, new schedule fog, it didn't occur to me to feed him and then try to take pictures! I'm telling you, my inability to follow through with the simplest of tasks this year hit shocking new lows!
We did manage to get a Christmas tree put up and decorated. I think several branches were missing lights, but we just decided that wasn't important enough to fix this year!
Every girl had to have her turn to put the star on top of the tree.
I took the girls to the annual Santa Breakfast at our pre-school. It was cold, so the girls huddled together while I got Thomas and gear out of the car.
Got this good picture of the kids right before Abby Kate threw up all over the floor! This was the first of what would be many stomach issues for the winter.
I tried to talk the girls and Cline into having a hip, fun bow on top of the tree, and was outvoted by everyone! We stuck with the star. But Chokee Nokee took my side, and put the bow on the tree one night!
Pretty sure this was the only picture I got of Chokee Nokee antics this year! Part of the character-building that took place was that I no longer get upset or stressed out about missing out on photo-ops or record-keeping!
As I was saying, it's been a fun and awesome year :) No, in all seriousness, I have much to be thankful for this year. Thomas is a joy, and a very easy, laid-back baby, and I am so very glad he is in our family! He has a toothy grin just like Christa did, Elizabeth's eyes, and Abby Kate's round head. Abby Kate has a special bond with him, as she snuggles up next to him every morning when she wakes up. Christa's school is sweet and wonderful, and after a few months of adjustment, and a learning curve of what is expected of me in the homework/reading practice department, she is thriving, and we are planting roots in our new school home. Cline's schedule.... hopefully is changing before next year, but I am very thankful he didn't have to work very many "extra" shifts this year!
All this to say, we seem to be finding our footing with these new circumstances, at least temporarily, so I am going to attempt to catch up on this blog. Enjoy!
Saturday, March 1, 2014
Beautiful
It's a busy morning, and the baby needs to eat. I push aside all that needs to be done, and snuggle in bed to nurse my son. As I start to look at my phone, I catch his big, bright, blue eyes looking up at me. I pause for a moment, and put the phone down. I stare at my son, taking in every detail about him and noticing how intently and contentedly he is looking at me, refusing to move his gaze to anything else. I feel like if I look just a teeny bit harder, and maybe squint a little, I could see tiny hearts flowing out of his eyes. And I know,
He thinks I'm beautiful.
I have felt everything but beautiful lately. Scattered, maybe. Harried, for sure. A complete and utter failure at the simplest of tasks, every day. But as I down look at Thomas, in his eyes, I am doing everything right. He is perfectly calm and content, filling his belly while looking up at his mommy.
His beautiful mommy.
I think about the scale, which has been my enemy lately. And I think about how every time I try to cut back on what I eat, my milk supply drops like an anchor in a whirlpool. And I think about how my desire to continue nursing outweighs my desire to look good in a bathing suit this summer, but if only the numbers would just stop going up...
He doesn't care. He thinks I'm beautiful.
I think about the hair appointment I had to cut short yesterday due to a family emergency. The gray hairs that require more than just a cut at these appointments. The wrinkles I'm starting to notice more around my eyes. The biggest, grossest, most painful pimple on my chin since eleventh grade. It is painfully obvious to me that I am not 25 anymore.
He thinks I'm beautiful.
I think about the plans for the day - to prepare for the visitation and funeral of our Mudd, Cline's grandmother. I wonder what I will wear that looks OK, since none of my clothes fit right now. I wonder how I will make myself pretty today, and again tomorrow. Right there, in my son's baby blue eyes, there it is.
He thinks I'm beautiful.
I think about the last time I saw Mudd. She had missed her last few hair appointments, and her hair was straight and un-fixed. Her makeup was undone. Her night gown was unfashionable. I looked at her many wrinkles and aged skin. I touched her un-toned arm. I weakly carried on conversation and helped her hold Thomas one last time as her mind and body failed her. I stared at 85 years of living through unspeakable hardships, with all of life's troubles and imperfections. 85 years of loving horse racing and Georgia football games. 85 years of drinking Diet Coke and eating ice cream while having diabetes. 85 years of raising children and grandchildren, cleaning her house, loving her husband, serving her Savior. And as I go through this weekend, I watch her legacy, four generations of her family line coming together like few families do to honor Mudd, to support one another, and bring glory to God as we walk into a new reality without her. Leaning on the faith that she taught her children to find comfort as we begin to miss her. I walk through her house, finding notes of truth and encouragement - bible verses everywhere. 85 years of a life lived well and grounded in prayer. And I know she didn't look good in her last days.
She was beautiful.
He thinks I'm beautiful.
I have felt everything but beautiful lately. Scattered, maybe. Harried, for sure. A complete and utter failure at the simplest of tasks, every day. But as I down look at Thomas, in his eyes, I am doing everything right. He is perfectly calm and content, filling his belly while looking up at his mommy.
His beautiful mommy.
I think about the scale, which has been my enemy lately. And I think about how every time I try to cut back on what I eat, my milk supply drops like an anchor in a whirlpool. And I think about how my desire to continue nursing outweighs my desire to look good in a bathing suit this summer, but if only the numbers would just stop going up...
He doesn't care. He thinks I'm beautiful.
I think about the hair appointment I had to cut short yesterday due to a family emergency. The gray hairs that require more than just a cut at these appointments. The wrinkles I'm starting to notice more around my eyes. The biggest, grossest, most painful pimple on my chin since eleventh grade. It is painfully obvious to me that I am not 25 anymore.
He thinks I'm beautiful.
I think about the plans for the day - to prepare for the visitation and funeral of our Mudd, Cline's grandmother. I wonder what I will wear that looks OK, since none of my clothes fit right now. I wonder how I will make myself pretty today, and again tomorrow. Right there, in my son's baby blue eyes, there it is.
He thinks I'm beautiful.
I think about the last time I saw Mudd. She had missed her last few hair appointments, and her hair was straight and un-fixed. Her makeup was undone. Her night gown was unfashionable. I looked at her many wrinkles and aged skin. I touched her un-toned arm. I weakly carried on conversation and helped her hold Thomas one last time as her mind and body failed her. I stared at 85 years of living through unspeakable hardships, with all of life's troubles and imperfections. 85 years of loving horse racing and Georgia football games. 85 years of drinking Diet Coke and eating ice cream while having diabetes. 85 years of raising children and grandchildren, cleaning her house, loving her husband, serving her Savior. And as I go through this weekend, I watch her legacy, four generations of her family line coming together like few families do to honor Mudd, to support one another, and bring glory to God as we walk into a new reality without her. Leaning on the faith that she taught her children to find comfort as we begin to miss her. I walk through her house, finding notes of truth and encouragement - bible verses everywhere. 85 years of a life lived well and grounded in prayer. And I know she didn't look good in her last days.
She was beautiful.
Saturday, February 22, 2014
The Missing Birthday
I woke up at 3:30 a.m. this morning to feed Thomas and couldn't get back to sleep. Despite sleeping through practical tornadoes the night before, for some reason, tonight, I was wide awake. As I began to pray about some things on my mind, I included an upcoming due date of a loved one that has been heavy on my heart this month. As I was praying for that situation to somehow make sense - any kind of sense at all - I remembered that this is the end of February. Specifically, today is February 22, and although I haven't done anything to commemorate this date in about 4 years, today is the missing birthday in our family. The due date of a baby we never got to meet or hold. A little one who we should be throwing a Frozen party for today. A cake that should have 5 candles on it.
I remember thinking at that first ultrasound that God was playing a cruel joke on me. I knew in my heart that the character of God was one of love, and that statement couldn't possibly be true. But as I looked at the still and lifeless ultrasound screen, I could not wrap my brain around why God would bless us with a surprise pregnancy, only to take it away a short time later. Why would a loving and merciful God give someone He loved such an amazing, wonderful, and joy-filled gift, and then snatch it away for no apparent reason?
As I've walked through motherhood over the years, I've seen even worse. Our situation, (an early miscarriage), can not be compared to a still birth or the loss of a child you've cared for over a period of years. For me, there has been comfort in not really knowing what I lost that day. Except for the fact, that when I look at Christa or Abby Kate or Elizabeth or Thomas, I get a pretty good glimpse of what is missing. And I know that it is a huge, gaping, hole.
But, occasionally, I pay special attention to Abby Kate. Bright, spunky, confident, hilarious, perfect-for-our-family, Abby Kate. I can not imagine life, or our family, without Abby Kate! The other night, I was reading an American Girl Doll book to the girls at bedtime. In the story, the characters were attending a luau in Hawaii, and learning to hula dance. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Abby Kate quietly waving her hands, hula-dancing with her arms in dramatic, Abby Kate-fashion as I read. That's my Abby Kate, and she adds an indescribable amount of joy to our family. Abby Kate will turn five in September.
If we didn't have a missing birthday today in our family, our family would, right now, be missing out on Abby Kate. And we would have no idea what a loss that was.
This is where I always get stuck - when I allow myself to feel the loss of our Teeny-Bear, and then feel the joy of our "happy ending" with Abby Kate (and Elizabeth and Thomas). For me, it's a beautiful picture of God's grace and mercy and everything eventually working out wonderfully just as "God ordained it." It's been a beautiful reminder over the years that even though our weeping "lasted for night," joy did come "in the morning." But if I didn't have Abby Kate, would I feel that same way? Could I believe those biblical promises and proclaim their truth with such certainty? What about the moms who pray and trust and say and do all the "right things" and have only one child and multiple losses that follow? What about the mothers out there who struggle with infertility and who never get to experience the grace and joy of a healthy pregnancy? What about the moms who end their reproductive years with an empty cradle and a half-filled heart? Who rejoice and give thanks for their healthy children, but who never have a "rainbow baby" to be a living, breathing, tangible, bright ray of sunshine after a dark night? Where is their "joy in the morning?"
While I don't have words for them, the Lord does.
"Thought the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold, and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation. God, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer's; he makes me tread on my high places."
Habakkuk 3:17-19
"For in a severe test of affliction, their abundance of joy and their extreme poverty have overflowed in a wealth of generosity on their part."
2 Corinthians 8:2
"More than that, we also rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation."
Romans 5:11
"But rejoice insofar as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when His glory is revealed."
1 Peter 4:13
"So also, you have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy away from you."
John 16:22
I find a glimpse of an answer to these questions in the example God Himself set for us. Right before Jesus was to be crucified, He prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane that God, if it was "His will" would "take this cup" away. I picture Jesus begging with tears to His own Father that there could be another way... a happier earthly ending. Just as I picture hurting and confused mothers begging the Lord to show favor and fill their home with children. Just as I begged for the ultrasound to be different when we went back a week later. And God, in His infinite wisdom, and His LOVE for US told His own, perfect Son who did and said everything right, "no." Jesus was crucified. The curtain was torn. Death was conquered. Salvation was offered to each of us.
Delivering and raising each of my children has, so far, been an amazing experience filled with too much joy for words. Somehow, though, I think meeting the baby I lost right after I meet my Savior will be even better.
Sometimes we get a rainbow to hold here on earth. Other times, our treasure awaits us in heaven.
Missing you today, Teeny-Bear.
"Store up your treasures in heaven; for where your treasure is, there your heart will also be."
Matthew 6:20
I remember thinking at that first ultrasound that God was playing a cruel joke on me. I knew in my heart that the character of God was one of love, and that statement couldn't possibly be true. But as I looked at the still and lifeless ultrasound screen, I could not wrap my brain around why God would bless us with a surprise pregnancy, only to take it away a short time later. Why would a loving and merciful God give someone He loved such an amazing, wonderful, and joy-filled gift, and then snatch it away for no apparent reason?
As I've walked through motherhood over the years, I've seen even worse. Our situation, (an early miscarriage), can not be compared to a still birth or the loss of a child you've cared for over a period of years. For me, there has been comfort in not really knowing what I lost that day. Except for the fact, that when I look at Christa or Abby Kate or Elizabeth or Thomas, I get a pretty good glimpse of what is missing. And I know that it is a huge, gaping, hole.
But, occasionally, I pay special attention to Abby Kate. Bright, spunky, confident, hilarious, perfect-for-our-family, Abby Kate. I can not imagine life, or our family, without Abby Kate! The other night, I was reading an American Girl Doll book to the girls at bedtime. In the story, the characters were attending a luau in Hawaii, and learning to hula dance. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Abby Kate quietly waving her hands, hula-dancing with her arms in dramatic, Abby Kate-fashion as I read. That's my Abby Kate, and she adds an indescribable amount of joy to our family. Abby Kate will turn five in September.
If we didn't have a missing birthday today in our family, our family would, right now, be missing out on Abby Kate. And we would have no idea what a loss that was.
This is where I always get stuck - when I allow myself to feel the loss of our Teeny-Bear, and then feel the joy of our "happy ending" with Abby Kate (and Elizabeth and Thomas). For me, it's a beautiful picture of God's grace and mercy and everything eventually working out wonderfully just as "God ordained it." It's been a beautiful reminder over the years that even though our weeping "lasted for night," joy did come "in the morning." But if I didn't have Abby Kate, would I feel that same way? Could I believe those biblical promises and proclaim their truth with such certainty? What about the moms who pray and trust and say and do all the "right things" and have only one child and multiple losses that follow? What about the mothers out there who struggle with infertility and who never get to experience the grace and joy of a healthy pregnancy? What about the moms who end their reproductive years with an empty cradle and a half-filled heart? Who rejoice and give thanks for their healthy children, but who never have a "rainbow baby" to be a living, breathing, tangible, bright ray of sunshine after a dark night? Where is their "joy in the morning?"
While I don't have words for them, the Lord does.
"Thought the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold, and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation. God, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer's; he makes me tread on my high places."
Habakkuk 3:17-19
"For in a severe test of affliction, their abundance of joy and their extreme poverty have overflowed in a wealth of generosity on their part."
2 Corinthians 8:2
"More than that, we also rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation."
Romans 5:11
"But rejoice insofar as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when His glory is revealed."
1 Peter 4:13
"So also, you have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy away from you."
John 16:22
I find a glimpse of an answer to these questions in the example God Himself set for us. Right before Jesus was to be crucified, He prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane that God, if it was "His will" would "take this cup" away. I picture Jesus begging with tears to His own Father that there could be another way... a happier earthly ending. Just as I picture hurting and confused mothers begging the Lord to show favor and fill their home with children. Just as I begged for the ultrasound to be different when we went back a week later. And God, in His infinite wisdom, and His LOVE for US told His own, perfect Son who did and said everything right, "no." Jesus was crucified. The curtain was torn. Death was conquered. Salvation was offered to each of us.
Delivering and raising each of my children has, so far, been an amazing experience filled with too much joy for words. Somehow, though, I think meeting the baby I lost right after I meet my Savior will be even better.
Sometimes we get a rainbow to hold here on earth. Other times, our treasure awaits us in heaven.
Missing you today, Teeny-Bear.
"Store up your treasures in heaven; for where your treasure is, there your heart will also be."
Matthew 6:20
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