The sorrow may last through the night, but JOY comes in the morning!

On October 15th we lit our candle for our precious Olive baby.  We lost her at 8 weeks and 2 days on September 17th, 2012.  Our first doctor told us on September 11th (my grandmother's birthday) that she was gone and refused to give us a second set of blood work so we could know ourselves for sure.
Our second and current doctor granted us the blood work we wanted and confirmed our worst nightmare on my birthday, Sept. 17th.  Worst month of my life.
This September 2013, we mourned, but we also celebrated.  On National Infant and Pregnancy Loss Awareness Day, we lit Olive's candle.  We prayed for Olive, we prayed for all the other babies and children taken too soon and their parents.  We cried.  But we also CELEBRATED.
Though the sorrow may last through the night, the JOY always comes in the morning.  And might I also suggest that JOY comes in the MOURNING.  We mourned the loss of our first child. We had great friends who helped us through that time and JOY came from the mourning.  I find great JOY in my friendships that have formed as a result.  I find great JOY in the bond that our loss formed in my husband and I. And though I would never wish to go through a miscarriage again or even relive Olive's pregnancy, we walked through something that made us stronger.  We formed lasting friendships with other couples, we have a story... a testimony to tell of God's great LOVE. Don't get me wrong, I'd love to have Olive in my arms right now, but I can't know GOD'S PLAN. I do trust that He has one and that He knows what is best for my husband and I.

Fast forward to the MORNING.  Here we are at 1+ years later and 23 weeks pregnant with Olive's sibling. The sorrow may last through the night, the JOY always comes in the morning. We are thrilled but at the same time anxious.  Though I've heard so many say that at least you know in your womb your child is safe, but I feel just the opposite.  As much as I can try to eat well and do the right things, I feel I have no control over what goes on in my own body.  I CAN'T WAIT to see my son and hold him in my arms and know without a doubt that he is safe and that when he cries, I can COMFORT him. 

At this point in the pregnancy, I'm beginning to feel our baby move and kick and stretch... With every movement I fall more and more in LOVE. The days that he is very active, I'm head over heels.  The days he spends napping, I'm most anxious and every kick is a reassuring SMILE. I love his movements, I love reading about each week and what that week means for my baby. This week he's the size of a pomegranate. I love pomegranates. Best fruit ever. I'll probably go to the grocery store and hold one to my belly this week. The brilliant red color and perfect shape of the pomegranate is beautiful to me. How much more BEAUTIFUL is the miracle of a child from week 1 to week 39? Through the rough 1st trimester, the blessed 2nd trimester, and the weary 3rd trimester, the JOY certainly comes in the MORNING. 

And yes, our baby is a bouncing baby boy! We found out at 19 weeks. And I had a gender reveal in my office. 

Motivation has returned...

One year ago in May we first started trying to get pregnant. 10.5 months since we lost our first baby. And it's taken that long for me to get my motivation back.

Motivation to work in my garden, motivation to do normal household chores, to do anything I once enjoyed. Even the motivation to read is coming back, although, admittedly,that was lost when I graduated college.
I can't believe it's taken this long.
My garden is looking great, though I do still have some weeding to do and a flower needs relocating.  Micky and I want to do so much to the yard and to the house, but it's time and money we don't have right now.
But I think it'll happen slowly and surely...

Mother's Day... and small victories.

Who knew choosing a Mother's Day card could be so difficult...
Started out glancing through them, but with each one I picked up, trying to find the perfect one for my own mother, the tears just started coming.
It hurt. It physically hurt. I could feel the hole in my heart and... it..hurt.
So there I was, right by the front door of the store, tears in my eyes... I had to walk away. People just walking in and I'm sure the cashier probably thought I was crazy.
I went about my business and left as soon as I could.

When I got to my car the tears were still there, but the flood didn't start until I pulled into my own driveway. I felt an emptiness, I felt it all the way home... Hollow and alone. I sat in my car for a good 10 minutes and cried. Because I didn't know what else to do, I cried.
I asked God to hold me, I longed for my grandmother because I knew she would understand.

God, hold me. Keep me. Help me to know your plan. To accept your plan.
Because I'm lost. I don't know what to do, what to feel... Is what I am feeling, well founded?
Three people I know are pregnant and weren't even trying. Are my thoughts well founded when I ask, "why them, and not me?"

In the time since the miscarriage, I've learned of a lot of friends and family who have had miscarriages. I wouldn't wish it on anyone, but I am realizing how common it actually is. Of my close circle of friends from college, 4 of the 5 whom have gotten married have had children. Each of them carried to term and had healthy pregnancies. So when I became pregnant, though I knew of the fears, I hadn't given thought to what might happen.

So WHEN it happens again, my husband corrects me constantly that it's "when" and not "if" we get pregnant again, there will be fears... many more than before, but I'm learning through all this that I must put it in God's hands. I must give this to God. I must give my fears, my anger, my sadness, my questions, my feelings, and especially my future to God. I must learn to (as cliche as it sounds) let go and let God.

I feel myself growing through this, I feel us growing through this and my hope is that sooner, rather than later we'll have good news. But of course, it's all in God's time.

I updated Olive's memorial shelf today and I thought I'd share the difference. Today, I threw away flowers that had been given to me after the miscarriage. I had dried them and carefully and lovingly put them back in the vase they had come in and placed them on the shelf with Olive's sonogram and memory box.
As small a gesture it may seem, it's a huge step for me. I'm letting go a little bit at a time and it feels good. I love that Olive is a part of our house. You can't come in and not see her. She's a part of us that I don't want to keep hidden. Which, I guess is another reason I'm writing this blog. Most of you who know me, know that I love to write. It's how I deal with life. So here it is; while I try to put my life back together and get our house in order, I'd like to share our story. Thank you for reading and following along but more than anything, thank you for the prayers.