12.15.2013

If you think my hands are full, you should see my heart.

Well, I have totally been slacking on this blog, and I apologize. Several people have emailed and messaged me asking me if I've had the baby yet and if everything was ok. Everything is wonderful, I just haven't had the time to sit down and share with the world the new joy in my life.

It's taken me 3 weeks to blog about it, but Bayor Matthias enter the world on November 23, 2013 at 8:49am, weighing a whopping 9lbs. 15oz. and measuring 20 inches long!


He is absolutely perfect. I am head over heels for this guy, and so is everyone else is our house.


What a joy it was to watch his brothers and sisters fall in love with him. They're all so great and such a big help. And going through this has made me fall in love with his daddy all over again too. I had a moment of deja vu when I was getting the epidural, and I started to have a panic attack because Steve wasn't in the room yet and I was terrified that I'd be doing this alone again. I had pushed aside how terrifying that really was for the last 3 years, but it seized me in that moment. But when Steve finally did come in the room, he kissed every tear away and calmed me down until we both heard the beautiful cries of our sweet son....and the tears came over me again.
I found out after the fact how much God really was watching over me. I had prayed really hard to have a VBAC, since I've never gotten to experience having a vaginal delivery. I got so close the first time around and desperately wanted to go through that with Steve. The doctor was hesitant because I had had more than 2 C-Sections and because there is always a 1% chance that my uterus could rupture, which would be fatal to both me and the baby, but he agreed to at least try if that's what I wanted.

Well, God didn't answer my prayer for a VBAC, but answered an unspoken prayer and saved my life and Bayor's. I was the 1%. As it turns out, the doctor found a tear in my uterus when he delivered Bayor. He said something about it to Steve at the time of birth, but didn't make it sound like too big of a deal. But the next morning he came into my hospital room to tell me how lucky I was to be here and that if I had gone into labor, or if anything out of the ordinary had happened, it would have been fatal. The tear was about 2 inches long and spanned across my stomach. He said that the only thing holding Bayor inside was the lining of my stomach. He also told me it was a good thing I had my tubes tied during the procedure, as having more kids in the future wasn't really an option any more.

After the doctor left the room, I started reading more about it (I was kind of in shock when he was talking and didn't ask enough questions) and just started balling, realizing how God had His hand in it. Even now thinking about it is a very sobering thought. I am ready to see Jesus, but my family needs me and the thought of our kids going through another loss so close to home makes me sick to my stomach. 

Now here we are, home safe and sound, grateful and happy. Bayor was very swollen when he was born and dropped a lot of weight before he came home, so he's only now getting back up to his birth weight. But he is a wonderful baby with a very chill and sweet demeanor.


He has already brought so much joy in our lives and I love watching the way he has brought our family even closer. What a blessing.


I mean, seriously. Look at those faces. 

"If you think my hands our full, you should see my heart."



11.21.2013

(not so) ordinary life

My favorite picture of Jeremy with our precious first born



And so the countdown begins...

In 56 hours or less (not that I'm counting or anything), I will be holding a new little life in my arms. One small person I helped create. One tiny little reminder of what life is really all about.

My sweet little baby boy has no idea what his life represents already in this world. In a place that can be so cold, sometimes stabbing, unfair, and down right hopeless...my little miracle is a reminder that life can and will go on, and that it can and will be beautiful again.

This afternoon, I was watching my 7 year old concentrate so hard on her homework, trying to write sentences. As I watched her expressions, the curves of her face, the movements of her body, I was in awe of the fact that she used to be this 6 pound little miracle that introduced me to motherhood. I felt her daddy beam with pride at her inside me and I just couldn't stop taking her in. Memorizing all the pieces that are just her - how did she all of a sudden evolve into this beautiful young lady?! I had several of these moments today with all of my children. Maybe it's hormones, or maybe it's the clock ticking away reminding me that once again I will hold a new baby and blink an eye and he'll be 7 years old....but whatever it is, I'm trying to hold on to as many moments as I can.

I continue to be reminded of what bittersweet really means. The life of a widow seems to be plagued with this word. But maybe it's the bitter that makes us appreciate the sweet. And maybe we can only experience real bitterness because we've tasted sweet. 

One of my favorite quotes is "time stands still best in moments that look suspiciously like ordinary life." This epitomizes my journey. The moments that I remember and hold most dear in life really aren't the grand ones (although those are great too) but they're the ones where life stands still for just a moment and I'm able to observe and appreciate what life still brings.

I honestly cannot wait to start memorizing all the details of my son's features, hold his tiny hand, and soak in every moment I can before they slip away.  I'm excited to watch my used-to-be-broken family put one more piece back together. 

I'm ready to live out the rest of this not so ordinary life.


11.13.2013

Ready. For now.




After hitting the 3 year mark on Saturday, I feel like a heavy weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Grief never really leaves, but I think the experience alone in a new place, along with the fear that I might have the baby before I got to properly grieve and get through the week left me scared and hurting in new and different ways. But, like always - and sometimes without my consent - I survived.

I watched most of my friends and family grieve from afar, over facebook. I watched some people forget. I watched my kids write sweet notes and hand prints on lanterns and their faces lit up when we let them off in the sky. I watched the clock, remembering every moment of the day 3 years before. I watched my phone, looking for the names of people I care about to pop up. Some did, some didn't. And I watched for signs that somehow, somewhere, someone made a mistake and after three years, this wasn't still real.

Now, I feel ready to go back to facing the life that Jeremy wanted for me. I know I'll have plenty more days like last week, when the weight of everything seems too much, but for now, I have some clarity. I have contentment. I have the desire to make him proud and love the way he taught me how. I feel this urgency to not waste the short life I had with him and to continue to love and appreciate what I have now. I was gifted with another reminder of how short life is....and to see that as a 'gift' is no small feat. I can feel a piece of Jeremy's heart beating through mine and through the hearts of the 3 little miracles we created together. And I see more pieces in his sweet family that means the world to me. I will hold on to those pieces and take them with me along the way.

I'm ready. For now. Ready to face another day, ready to live, laugh, and love. And most importantly, right now....I'm ready to have this baby!


11.06.2013

When words are not enough



This Saturday marks 3 years since Jeremy took his last breath.
How can that possibly be?

Every year, I am in awe of how crazy it seems that so much time has passed, and yet how far away it seems when so much life has been lived in between. I have truly experienced more in the past 3 years than most people do in a lifetime. Since Jer died, I've bought 2 houses, purchased a new vehicle, traveled all over the country, lost and gained friends, dated and remarried, blended a large family, moved out of state, had a baby without his daddy, and am preparing to have another child with another man. Surely these things couldn't possibly describe MY life...

And yet, no matter how much life has been lived since I've seen Jeremy, the weight of the hole he has left in my life is still so evident, and still a very painful reality I face daily. The last several weeks have been especially hard for me. Part of it is because I now grieve so far away from his family and friends, far away from the life I shared with him, and far away from where I can feel his presence. I feel so far removed. I ache to hold on to pieces of him during this season. Part of it also is from the fact that the closer I get to delivering, the more terrified I feel. Pregnancy hormones alone could do me in, but the sleepless nights remembering a piece of my grief that I never thought I'd have to face again is sometimes too much. My anxiety level is high, to say the least.

I was texting with a friend this weekend just about how crazy it is that it's already been 3 years. And I realized how much I ached just to talk to someone about it. To let it out. To have someone actually ask me. She had no idea how much that filled my heart up. I confessed that it's been hard to feel like I have no outlet lately. She asked me if writing was no longer an outlet. I had to think about that for a minute....

Writing has always been my way of expressing emotion. Words are my ally and my weapon of choice. They help me sort through my own head when things don't make sense. And being able to write about my grief journey has brought me more healing than I could have ever imagined. But I found myself at a crossroads of guilt. Guilt for feeling like I couldn't talk about the depths of my pain without somehow sounding ungrateful for the life I have now and the blessings that come with it. And guilt for being too grateful for the life I have now and feeling like people think it means I'm just ok and don't need to talk about Jeremy anymore. I also just don't like feeling like I'm seeking out attention. Writing makes people think they know me and therefore the personal connections are lacking because they think they know where I'm at. They can watch from a distance.

The truth is that words sometimes are not enough. Most of the time, I really don't have much NEW to say. I've run out of ways to express how much I miss Jeremy, how much my heart longs for him, how hard it is to watch my kids grow up without knowing him.......it really never changes, just evolves. I want to scream from the top of my lungs just how much grief sucks still sometimes. I want the world to know what an incredible husband I have now, and that how deeply I cherish him has no impact on the amount of grief I have and will continue to carry through the rest of this life. I wish I could find the right words....words that connect with everyone. But, I can't reach everyone. All I can do is write what I know, what I am living.

I keep going back to an analogy I heard shortly after Jeremy died, I think in a book I read somewhere. It painted a picture of train tracks, one track representing grief and one representing joy: both running side by side on the same path. They both exist together.

This week, I don't have the right words. Just a jumbled mess of emotions that seem to represent my heart these days. My words are not enough. But just remembering to put one foot in front of the other is sometimes all I need to do.


10.15.2013

A letter to my little poppy

To my sweet little poppy,

As it stands today, I am 33 1/2 weeks pregnant and this is the first time I've been able to write these words down. They've been navigating my heart and swarming in my brain since the day I found out about you, but I haven't let my fingers get it all out.

You see, the last time I wrote a letter to my unborn child - your soon to be big brother - tragedy struck and paralyzed my heart for a long time. I lost sight of a lot of things and had to navigate my way back to reality one short and difficult breath at a time. But this letter is not about that tragedy. This letter is about the miracle that is YOU. Being afraid of losing you or people that I love couldn't dare stop me from taking the opportunity to express to you my joy and anticipation that you have already brought to this world. I'm just sorry it took me so long.

You, my precious baby boy, represent so much in our family already and you don't even know it! You epitomize redemption, healing, love, and already you have brought our family closer together. Just the idea of your arrival has changed our world. And what an unexpected and beautiful change is has been.



Your daddy and I never intended to have you. Coming together with 5 children seemed crazy enough and our house was already bursting at the seams. But God always seems to have better plans than the ones we create for ourselves. When He put you on our hearts, we knew it would be worth every sleepless night, every corner of space we would lose, every tear, every dirty house day, and every exhausted evening.

It is my prayer that by the time you are old enough to read this letter, you will understand the uniqueness that is our family and learn about the joys and trials that blended our family together, but that you will feel nothing short of unconditional love. Your brain might understand some of the broken pieces that create our family, but your heart will only know of the completeness that was and is the result.

From day one, this pregnancy has been completely different. Nausea like I've never experienced before, weight gain in all the wrong places, aches, pains - it's so funny how I thought I knew what was coming, and you continue to be a surprise! But every time I feel you kick or giggle at your hiccups (which you get ALL the time!) all those things melt away and I soak up every precious moment of you. You are so well loved. Your brothers and sisters are going crazy waiting for you to come out already! They love to read to you, talk to you, kiss you good night, pray for you - you are a very important piece of our family.


Life has been so crazy these last 7 1/2 months, we barely have anything ready for you! But I know it will all come together and you will never know the difference. I also want you to know how excited your daddy is to hold you and rock you to sleep. He is such a blessing in my life and I pray every day that God keeps him safe and in our family for many years to come. He teaches me so much about love, service, humility, hard work, and God - and I pray you grow up to learn the same qualities from watching him. I'm afraid once you get here, he may not put you down for the rest of us to hold!


I can't wait to see what you look like, to see what pieces you posses from each person in our family. I know you will be beautiful. I can't wait to see the look on your daddy's face, and on the faces of your brothers and sisters. And I absolutely cannot wait to watch our family evolve and grow and love because you are in the world.

I love you, sweet baby boy.

Love always,
Mommy





10.03.2013

New house tour

Okay, now that I FINALLY shared our before and afters of our house in Michigan, I can give you the house tour of our house in West Virginia - since it is now officially ours and people have been bugging me about it! So, without further ado - our beautiful new house:


After the first time we walked through the house, Steve and I had an ongoing argument about what the color this house actually was....he thought white, I said light blue. Truth is, we were both off (it's actually a light grayish blue), but what really counts is that I was MORE right. ;)

This is the main entry way. Straight ahead to the kitchen, upstairs to the bedrooms, right to the main floor bathroom and an entryway to main living room. And if you turn right....


You'll see the coat closet and the front living room:


Walking through the front living room takes you through this entry to the dining room...



With 5 kids, white carpet, and beautiful floral wallpaper, what could go wrong?!?!? (Sense the sarcasm...I can't WAIT to get rid of this wallpaper and put wood floors down since our 2 year old has already stained this carpet with red koolaid, among other things!)


Turn right again (I hope you've figure out we're walking through in a clockwise circle), you'll enter the kitchen...and the door across goes to the main living room, which you'll see in a minute.


This kitchen feels much smaller than it is. There is TONS of storage, a huge food pantry, which is a dream come true, but the cabinets are so dark and close off this space, and of course the 80's wallpaper and floral curtains don't do it for me. Can't wait to get to work on the after of this space!



The door below you see on the left with a doggie door in it goes to the basement.


Okay, here is the main living room. Love the brick fire place and the giant space....but Lord have mercy, that wood paneling will be the FIRST to go! (In fact, we've already started painting it the day we closed on the house!)


 From the main living room, you walk out to the deck...


And you get to see this beautiful view....




We live next door to a wildlife preserve, so we get to see TONS of deer in our backyard!



Okay, to complete the full circle of the main floor, here is the main bathroom. Complete with more floral wallpaper...


Alright, now onto the upstairs... (this is from the top looking down)


Hallway


We'll go counter-clockwise on this level. If you reach the top of the stairs and take an immediate right, you'll come to Reagan and Faith's room...


Nothing too exciting, YET, but it is significantly bigger than their last room..with a lot more closet space.


Next up on the same end of the house, is our oldest Zada's room. Also, much bigger than her last room - and we plan to Zebra this place up soon!




Keeping with our circle, next you come to the upstairs bathroom with double sinks and a shower! What a novel idea for the upstairs where all the bedrooms are! (I kid because our previous house only had a bath upstairs, the main level had the shower)


Next we come to another bedroom that was converted to a laundry room. As much as we want to convert it back to a bedroom - I absolutely LOVE having our laundry room upstairs. No more folding laundry on the couch, transporting clothes everywhere and making a big mess. The kids can grab their laundry and bring it right to their rooms. Not to mention, it's HUGE. So for now, it will stay a laundry room.


It's actually a turquoise color (the same color you'll see in the boy's room next, in fact, but you can't tell in these pictures because the lighting is weird)


Next is the boy's room. All of the rooms are significantly bigger than our last house. Lucky for these guys, cause there might be three rambunctious boys in here for a couple years.



Last room upstairs is our beautiful master bedroom...



Our master is the size of our old living room! So needless to say, we barely have enough furniture to fit in it. But we're happy nonetheless. Plus, it makes plenty of space for baby for the first few months. And...check out our own master bath....yes, double sinks again. 


If you think I'm spoiled now, check out this walk-in closet!!! I about peed my pants when I saw this. I have no reason to leave my bedroom now (I'll just order room service from my children and husband hehe)


That completes the tour for now. I don't have any pictures of the garage or basement yet. The basement is the ugliest space in the house, and the dog lived down there, so the smell is messing with my pregnancy nose big time. But right now, everything we haven't unpacked yet is being stored down there. Someday, it will come together. It's hard to be patient to watch things come together, but I'm brewing with excitement to create a space that suites our family.

Thanks for taking the tour with me. More importantly, thank you for all the prayers and kind words of encouragement that got us here in the first place! I love you all.



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