I am reminded

A year ago we were trying to figure out how to tell our parents, ever so reluctantly, that we were expecting a third baby.  We were not ready for a third.  We were not trying to have a third.  But we were having a third.  May teens, 2012.  A new baby was supposed to arrive.  New office for me.  Boys new in daycare-- an astronomical expense.  Just getting into a rythym with the office and all the new things I had to learn.  I was frustrated that life was again about to get even crazier.  It felt like the stress would never end.

We had found out in early September that I was pregnant.  We didn't tell much of anyone for almost 2 months.  We were trying to be excited about it when we told them.

And by this time last year, we were getting there.

We decided to tell the grandparents on my birthday.  We were going to my parents the weekend before and coming home to Keith's parents basically the Sunday of my birthday.  My mom had already figured it out.  I was sick.  I wasn't eating.  And all I could do was sleep.  And I was already showing at 10ish weeks.  My parents were cautiously excited, knowing just how stressful the last 3 1/2 years had been.

For Keith's family we were trying to be creative so we decided on a cake.  We got me a cake (very unusual) and put "happy birthday to a mother of 3" on it.  I still remember driving up Ash Street connector to go into Prominence Point Publix to get it.  Wondering how on earth they were going to respond.

Excited and worried is what I think filled the air.  Babies are exciting.  They also bring worry.  And stress.  Anyone who tells you otherwise is blowing sunshine-- no matter how anticipated or how unexpected the baby chaos may be, it is still a bit of chaos.  Babies are wonderful.  Babies are.  All encompassing.  If you are great at total self sacrifice, no showers, little sleep, and sore boobs, then maybe babies are easy for you.  But babies are challenging--fabulous--but hard

By Thanksgiving we were full on excited about another baby.  Really.  Really. Excited.

Christmas.  Bubbling.  Crazy happy about another little boy.  Everett.  I had him named before I got home to tell Keith.  With the "boys rule" camo outfit I bought to tell him.

We decided to keep that to ourselves for another little while.  Trying to make it fun.

January.  Earth shattering.  Life altering.  Devastating.  Gut wrenching news.

18 weeks left to mourn the baby I was carrying.  We were given no chance of life.  But we thought about it.  Prayed about it.  And contemplated every "what if" any set of parents can come up with.

And we came up with love.  Earth shattering.  Life altering.  Devastating.  Gut wrenching love.

There isn't a day that I don't think about the baby missing in my Moby wrap.  There isn't a moment that I'm not one thought away from tears.  There is this hole.  This... Emptiness... where a baby belongs.

Every test known to modern science said it wasn't our genes' fault that Everett is in heaven and not in Canton.  Everything they know to look for says his death was unexplainable.  Comforting and maddening.  Encouraging and frustrating.

And I am reminded.  Of everything I have learned in this wretched, beautiful year.

I am reminded that time doesn't heal wounds.  Choices do.

I am reminded that emotional walls have no place in deep, personal relationships.  Honesty, work, and vulnerability do.

I am reminded that life is fragile and only love matters.  Only relationships matter.

I am reminded that so much can change in an instant and yet, Christ is constant--whether we remember that immediately or not.

I am reminded that choices are what make circumstances.  Not that we choose every situation, but we choose how to participate in every situation.  And we choose how to allow those things to influence our lives.

I am reminded that only faith, hope, and love remain.  But the greatest of these is love.  That faith and hope bring us through the days of inner torture.  Of self disgust. Of enveloping sadness.  Of utter despair.  But love allows us to breathe.

I am reminded that He makes all things new.  That he will right is wrong. Healing flows from Him.  That restoration is His song.

I am reminded.   Of how 6 lbs, 20 weeks, and brokenness can change the weight of the world, a lifetime of decisions, and make restoration possible.