Hundreds of thoughts.

There are a hundred things that went through my mind today. Many of them thoughts of what I should be doing with Harrison. Feeling so lost in a world so great. I was touched after church by a mom that told me I shouldn't feel pressured to get over this grieving, I chuckled (completely inappropriately) and told her that with all these holidays, that's exactly how I do feel. Then she shared her story of loss, another woman who has children that I counted by the faces I saw, not the faces God sees.

I thought about the number of months I have been married, 64 months; the number of months I have been pregnant, 29 months; the number of months I have breastfed, 39 months...have you done the math? There has never, in all my married life, been a time when my body has not supported a child. Until now.

I thought about Weight Watchers. How I get way less points since I am not breastfeeding. How I just used most of my weekly allowance eating Taco Johns...

I thought about the sweaters that my niece and Harrison should be wearing. You know, I would have purchased them to match. Kamryn is just 3 months older than Harrison. They would have looked so cute.

I thought about how I haven't made my bed in two months. That used to be important.

I thought about Harrison's room...what will become of it?

I thought about all of us mommies who lost a child this year. How we have to go through the next month wishing our babies could be with us as we celebrate the birth of Christ.

Mostly, I thought about Kayleigh. Today was my friend, Kayleigh's due date. She lost her precious little girl at 33 weeks due to a cord problem. I am praying for her today, all day, continually. I am blessed to have met her at grief support, but I wish it could have been at a playgym...me bouncing Harrison, while she snuggled Harley. I wish...

I am so sorry Kayleigh.

Jenn

ps. Just to clarify my math, Gavyn was born 9 months and 2 days after our wedding and I have nursed and been pregnant at the same time.

Thankfulness.

Thankfulness. How often I have thought these words today. I wake up with the words on my tongue. I go to the cemetery and lose the words at the grave of my son, yet they come back to me when I get in a hot shower. And I talk to God.

"God, I would have done whatever you asked of me. I wanted Harrison. I needed him. I would like to hold him RIGHT NOW. Am I supposed to be thankful to You for this battle?"

God could have just stood in front of me and told me what to do to please Him, He could do this all the time. And He did in the Old Testament. He told people what would happen, but He gave us free will and we didn't always listen. So now, we have to train our ears to hear Him through the voices of others, through all the ways we interpret information. And then I got that shivery feeling. Like He is standing not by me, but around me. And I realized there has to be a purpose. He has a purpose for me and I have to wait, He will reveal that to me in his own time.

Then I go to shampoo my hair and I am out of shampoo and conditioner, as in already took the lid off yesterday and dug all the remaining shampoo and conditioner out...No big deal, Brian has, count them, 3 bottles in here. All three are shampoo. So I'm clean, but unable to comb through this mess. Then I look up, and there on top of the shower is a small travel sized bottle of conditioner. God provides. I needed to be completely out to see this. Completely drained and He provides, completely leaning on Him.

Jenn

Here is our non-traditional Turkey burger...hey, at least it's not McDonald's!

Retail therapy

Retail therapy. Everyone talks about it and quite frankly, I used to like indulging in the habit myself. Until the last two months. Part of me is glad that I had prepared to be in the house this winter, but for such different reasons. What I would give to have those reasons here with me...to hear my baby fussing, to hold my sweet Harrison. Anyway, I had to go shopping. I feel like I can skip Thanksgiving, but Christmas is probably not going to go away. And pictures have new meaning in our life...Christmas cards should be sent out...pictures of my children on earth. Back to my shopping trip. There were no navy sweaters for Gavyn, but there were plenty of outfits for Harrison. I tried to walk in to a store, head down, and spot only the big boy section, but then those retail places always section off the boy and girl sections. I look up and there are the sweet little outfits I had deemed on September 12 as too expensive and now they're on sale! Now, the bargain shopper I am, actually checked to see if they had a 6 month size. And then I remembered, cruelly, that I didn't have a baby, that poor Harrison was in Heaven, that I can't dress him up. Once again, a trip to the mall that ended painfully. Who would have known?

I think I will shop online.

Shopping just reminds me that I am searching for things I do not have; things I want, but do not have. And I have much. God has given me much. I am thankful. I am not overjoyed, but humbly thankful.

Jenn

ps. My bargain shopping, fabulous friend, Molly, found me not one, but two navy sweaters! Thanks.

Sweats.

I remember a year ago, Brian and I were driving in the car when we saw this woman in her sweats getting the mail. Brian laughed and said how I wouldn't even go to the door in my sweats. True. Yet for the last 9 weeks, I have been living in my sweats. So today, when I go to get dressed and am trying to decide what color of sweats to wear, I had visions of "What not to Wear" stalking me. Really. They're going to come in and throw out my entire closet. (minus, one cashmere sweater that does not fit.) So I dressed in my girlfriends corduroy jeans to go to Walmart. Thank God my friend called and we took the kids to Boingz! instead. I hate to waste a moment in button pants on a trip to Walmart. The whole point to this rambling is...my life is not what it was. I didn't used to wear sweats, but it turns out, they feel good. And lounging around in them at home is okay. Going to church in them may not be, but I've been doing it anyway. Turns out, God doesn't seem to care what I wear as long as I am dedicated to Him. Since He holds my baby, I must be dedicated to Him...I long to be with my Harrison, so if I have to make sacrifices, I will...my goal to lead a better life for Him is pretty clear.

My life is, well, messy. As in messy room, messy kitchen, messy me. I once heard your home is a reflection of your mind. If you walk in my house, you will know how my mind is doing. Messy. Yet, I have to live here. Here in the moment of chaos. Because my heart hurts, and my soul, my poor soul, has aged decades. But out of this must come...something. I don't know what this something will be, but I know God has a plan for me. He must. And although I would do ANYTHING to change things, I can't. I will live here, in this middle ground, not where I was and not where I will be, but here in the middle...and I will wait, patiently, for direction. He will hold me and help me. I will learn to trust Him in a new way. I will learn.

Although he was a son, he learned obedience from what he suffered.
Hebrews 5:8

Even Jesus, had to continually make the will of God his own.

And I will learn, not perfectly, but patiently.

Jenn

Two months.

Two months ago, I was holding Harrison for the first and last time. I was so blessed to have him. Two months, four hours, twenty-three minutes ago, I gave birth for the third time. I want to reverse time and hold him again. If only it were that easy.

I can replay that night over and over again in my head, still I can not find a loop hole with which I could jump through and change things. I know God knows our days before we are born...but why couldn't I have held him longer? Why Me? Was there a moment that my faith altered? Did God know this was my path to be tread? When was this decision made for me? Why on THE anniversary of last years miscarriage? Can I have a promise that September 14-22 will be a little bit easier the rest of my life? Could God make me this promise? Brian proposed to me on the 21st...will I ever get to celebrate that?

I know I can ask Him all these questions. I know He can handle it. I also know that He is hurt. He created me in His image and if I hurt, so does He.

Sometimes, it is hard to remember that God feels. I get caught up in the image of Him as the decision maker and forget that He feels.

And I wonder, when God gave us Jesus, did He know how how Jesus would suffer for us? Was there ever a moment when He wanted to give us an easier answer than the death of His son? I don't believe that God can turn His back on us, when we call out to Him. He couldn't have turned His back on Jesus, His son. Your will, not mine... He heard those words...and yet...

I want it all back. I want three children on earth. I want to hold all of them. I want to hear their squabbles, I want to decide who to tend to first. I want the stress of three children age four and under. I want everyone to live a long healthy life. I don't want to be up at night praying for mommies that have lost their babies too.

What I want is not going to happen. I know that. Living in the could haves will not get me anywhere. It's comfortable though, right now. Moving out of this pain seems unreasonable. My arms hurt to hold Harrison. Every day is one more day without him, but one more day closer to him too. One more day I thank God for even the little, tiny moments with those I love.

Jenn

How am I to get through this? All I can think about is how I want to paint the nursery...where to put the baby swing in the family room...how I should be tired because I'm up every night to nurse. I'm so disappointed. These thoughts pop into my head at the oddest times.

I'm tired of hearing well meaning, but definitely the wrong things, being said to me. The next person that asks if we are going to "try" again, I will not be giving the pat answer "We can't imagine at this time." I will be stating the truth...I am mourning my son, Harrison. No one could ever replace him, nor would we try to. We've done more than tried. I've given birth to three amazing children. Saying less then this seems, now, a sacrifice to my own self.

Now, on the lighter side of this, I have decided against the matching t-shirt and sign for my front yard. Ya know, the one in light blue and chocolate colored script...I've thought about it.

Yesterday, Gavyn said,

"I was thinking...maybe Harrison was too special for us and that's why he had to go to God."

"You're right Gavyn. Harrison was soo special."

"Yea, but Emi (he shrugs his shoulders while saying this) is not too special, so she got to be with us..."

Okay, if you know Emi, she is a bit...well...demanding. (She'll sock us later when she learns to read.)

And Emi...she misses Harrison too. We have to tell her how Harrison will not be with us here on earth. It breaks my heart every time she asks if he is still in my tummy. She said tonight at the dinner table, "I want to hold Harrison in my room." Our kids are so blessed to love their rooms, of course she wanted to hold him in her room. I close my eyes and I can see this.

Disappointment is hard. I know God is here, but I know He could have changed things. It is extremely difficult to understand why He didn't. Someday, I will know. Accepting that He will not whisper that answer in my ear is so, again, disappointing.

Lord,
Just sit with me tonight.
Show me how to give you glory.

Jenn

Tonight Gavyn wanted me to read The Sick Girl from his bible stories. The Sick Girl. (Matthew 9:18-26, Mark 5:21-43, Luke 8:40-56) I did't know if I could do it, so I started...and I thought,
Lord, I pleaded this same cry. Why? Why, this girl and not my Harrison. I believed as much as this father, who knew You could save. Why?

And He answered over and over again...Jesus.

It hurts no less, knowing this is what the Lord has said. It does not change my desires. Yet I know He gives me so much.

He has guided me this far, He will continue to guide me. I want to be specific when I say I have recieved guidance. In May, I began reading Kim's blog, Brian had actually told me not to, it made me cry to hear the pain she was going through having given two children to Heaven. I kept reading...then I read Job this summer...and I prayed to God, Please just give me this child. It does not matter if he is sick or disabled in some way. I love him. I will do anything I can for him. Please do not make me like Job, I can't imagine his agony. Yet, He is holding my son, my baby. I prayed for something so different.

Today, I walk in the grocery store, longing for what should have been Harrison's first month birthday, longing to lug a baby carrier and hold Emi's hand...longing. And there, right behind me is the mom from my grief support group. The mom I had wanted to exchange phone numbers with and didn't, she was right there. There are miracles, we just have to willing to see them.


Jenn

Open Arms.

Brian and I went to a grief support group last night. If I was looking for a pick-me-up, this wasn't it...nothing like hanging out with other moms that lost their babies. Not only that, the meeting was across the street from the cemetery. How I can be that physically close to my baby, but not hold him? On the up side, I kept hearing about their faith...faith that is holding them up, the same faith that is holding me up.

Just a few months ago, Gavyn and I had this discussion about how God doesn't require you to stop, kneal down and pray, rather you can just talk to Him. He's your friend, your Father, He just wants you to listen to Him. I know Gavyn's four, but we've ALWAYS talked like this. I want him to love the Lord like I do. I want him to go to the Lord always, with anything. I want my children to have faith.

Faith is a funny thing. Believing in something you cannot see is not always easy. Sometimes, it is nearly impossible. I believed God would give me Harrison to hold in my arms and He did. It was just so much shorter than I thought. So much shorter.

God accepts us with open arms. No judgement. Complete forgiveness. Unconditional love. I look at my children and I know this feeling, only He feels it deeper. He gave me the ability to feel love...and to give it. I am amazed, even when it hurts so deeply.

Jenn

Normalcy. I have been forced to face it, head on, like a deer in the headlights. And that's what it feels like.

I love to scrapbook. I love it enough to start a 12 hour once a month scrapbook at our church. A ministry that now seems so hard to participate in. So I skipped it this weekend. All I could think of was how I had planned on bringing Harrison up to meet everyone. How I purchased little stickers and a baby book. How when I packed up in September, I imagined the next time I would work on Harrison's birth.

I dreamt of bringing my baby to church more than any other place. Church has become my second family. I wanted to baptize him, not bury him. Brian and I were looking at the January calendar to pick a baptism date. I wanted to dedicate his life to God, not give him to God.

There are breaks in the clouds.

Gavyn came running in the kitchen tonight to get a baggie. Now, Gavyn is bug obsessed, so I quickly remind him that we CANNOT put bugs in enclosed containers...He turns to me, innocently might I add, and proclaims "It's not a bug, it's ear lint. I am saving it to show people." Now how can anyone keep a straight face? Of course, ear lint...to show others...let's clean out those ears...and NO you can not take your bag of ear lint to basketball.

Oh Lord,
Keep showing me Your miracles.
I will never take for granted small blessings.
Blessings of wise children, beautiful fall days,
the rainbow of Your promises.

Jenn