Anniversary of Discovery

Sunday (the 20th) is my husband's birthday. It is also the 1 year anniversary of the day I told him I was pregnant with Asher. He had been ready to have another baby for at least a year, maybe more. I'm quite sure he'd keep me pregnant until we had a brood to rival the Duggers if I'd agree to it. I was 99% sure I was pregnant but went to Walmart and picked up a pregnancy test for me and a birthday card for Nolan on the 19th. I waited until he went to work then peed on that little stick. PREGNANT! So I wrote in his birthday card Happy Birthday! from Samantha, Vera, and Julian Arminius (A boys name Nolan and I both kinda liked at the time) (Also how interesting that I wrote a boys name. I always had 'boy feelings' that whole pregnancy). I gave it to him the next morning when he came home from work. He opened it, read it, and then said, with a kind of hysterical look on his face, "What does this mean? Are you sure?!" I just nodded and held out the pregnancy test. He laughed and swooped forward to hug and kiss me. Oh, I'm crying thinking about that day. How beautiful, how glorious, how happy. So happy.
     I really love that pregnancy. It was so healing after the upheaval of Vera's pregnancy. There was never a day I wasn't glad to be pregnant. Never I day I wasn't excited. Never a time I wondered if I was ready or capable. I spent so much time loving him before I ever even knew he was a him. And I spent ever so much more time enthralled by the thought of a baby boy. My pregnancy was easy. By the end of  I was even excited to give birth. I was confident that everything would be perfect.
    I'm just so utterly shocked how un-perfect it all turned out to be. I'm just stunned at how this could happen. I'm the sort of person who is generally prepared for most circumstances....... but this, this was like walking from a dark house out into the bright sunlight where you can't see, but can feel the warmth and being suddenly punched in the face. There is nothing you can do except fall to the ground and wait for the pain to subside so you can try to get up again. Trying to stagger into an upright position seems impossible some days. Nolan says I'm wallowing. He seems angry some days that I'm not normal. How am I supposed to be normal? I won't ever go back to the old normal because I piece of me is in that grave with my Asher. I hope Nolan will understand one day.
   I don't give him enough credit, though. He's been the one holding my head above the water for so long now. He's who I run to when I just need to cry with no questions asked. He's the rock that has always kept me grounded. He lets me babble on but doesn't allow me to seep into despair. And I know he's ready for another baby.
    I keep thinking that being pregnant again would be nice, and I don't think God will take another baby from my arms, but He might. But he might not. And - in the recent words of a friend - if I live in the past, I may miss out on someone/thing amazing and special in the future.
Psalms 30:5 "Weeping may endure for a night, but JOY cometh in the morning." How sad it would be to miss out on that joy, because I refused to open my eyes for fear.

Song #9 Starry Night by Chris August

The last few days have been such a blessing. I can honestly say I have never felt as much joy in my soul as I have yesterday and today; especially yesterday morning. I've been praying so hard lately that God would show me joy again. His abiding joy. A joy that transcends circumstance. Thursday had been a very ugly day. Not for any particular reason, just many small things piled up until I thought I would burst; the sun wasn't out, Vera cried when my dad picked her up before I went to work, I worked 10 hours, I missed Nolan all day and before he went to work, we had a row... ect, ect. I got down on my knees that night and poured my heart out to God. The next morning dawned bright and sunny. Nolan and I had a wonderful morning together before I had to get Vera up and out the door. On my way to work I put on some praise and worship music from the radio and the sun was just above the horizon and glinting off the crystalline snow-covered fields. Breathtaking. I could hear God say "This sunrise is just for you, beloved. Joy cometh in the morning." I knew my prayers had been heard. That gift of a sunrise on Friday morning was so overwhelming. I made it to my dad's house and took Vera inside. She didn't cry once and was off and playing before I even got out the door. I got back into my car and the song Starry Night came on the radio.

When they lyrics:

I''m giving my life to the only One who makes the moon reflect the sun

On that starry night, He changed my life. I'm giving it all to the only Son who gave me hope when I had none. So let the praises ring, Ohhhh Let the Praises Ring

I burst into tears. I knew that the God that made the sun and the moon loves me. I cried out, thanking Him for the supernatural hope, peace and joy that could only come from Christ. He sent the sun to rise in the wintery sky just for me that morning. I know some people won't understand this. But I can't imagine going through this without God. So daily, I am giving my life over to God. I'm giving back the control, because I can't make the sun rise, nor can I have joy without Jesus.

Finish the day I worked, but the time seemed short. And after work I went grocery shopping, picked up Vera from my dads and went home. When I got home there was a box from ProFlowers with my name on it. Nolan had ordered flowers for me; a dozen red roses and chocolates with a note that read "Darling, I love you. -Nolan". It was the icing on a cake filled day. God has been so faithful,... so real.

Starry Night - Chris August

Sporadic Thoughts and Confused Emotions

Today has been a roller-coaster of thoughts and emotions. I'm so uncertain about everything. One moment I believe everything is going to work out perfectly and all my dreams will be realized. Then next...well, I  can't believe that any decision I make will work to my advantage. I feel like I'm in a haze of confusion. I'm worried about school. I've worked hard to get to the clinical phase of things, but I'm halted by grades that aren't quiet good enough. I'm going to have to take some of the classes over and get A's instead of B's. I feel disappointed with myself. I've never NOT gotten into any school/program/club ect.. that I aimed to get into the first time. So many people said I'd never graduate college after I became pregnant with Vera in high school. And Nolan has worked for 3 years putting me through school at a horrid job. I desperately want to get him out of that place. I owe it to him to stop schlepping through school and get good grades and graduate, get a job. I want him to get back to his dreams that he put on hold for me.
Also we want to have more children, but if I'm going to work, I don't see how that's possible. I can't work full time and nurse a baby. I don't want to be away from my babies all day. I can't find a way to go to college, get a job, have children and get Nolan out of that horrible job.
I need a way to make money from home. Enough to support us. *Sigh.... What a crazy dream. This week I've been wondering if I just need to grow up and realize that people don't live like that. I just don't know what direction to turn.
And then lately Nolan and I have been discussing planting a garden this summer. I'd love to do that but it also scares me. It scares me that I'll fail. And I've already failed at so many things this last year that I don't think I could take one more thing. I know how to garden. I grew up doing it. My mom taught me everything she knows about gardening and she has a HUGE garden. There is no reason to think that I'd fail, but I just don't believe in myself anymore. I fail at keeping my house tidy. I fail at keeping the laundry done. I failed at school. I failed at....Asher... well... anyway, I've just failed too many things to keep thinking I'll succeed at something.
I want to try again. But I don't want to see the disappointment in the faces of the people I love.

Oh how did I end up here. I meant to talk about how there are changes available to our family and that I didn't know which door to walk through. Instead I've ended up giving myself a therapy session.
I also wanted to talk about how Vera has developed a strange stutter when she says the word "go". I have no idea how. And how I feel like she doesn't know enough of her alphabet. Or her numbers. She's got her colors down. And she's beginning to write and to recognize some words. But... Oh I just don't know. I used to be so sure of myself. So confident. So able.

The Most Beautiful Thing.

Tears in my eyes tonight as I think of a friend of mine who brought her son earth-side this morning around 11am. She stayed home, the way its been done for thousands of years. She educated herself, prepared all the necessary goods for a homebirth, and equipped her mind and soul for the birth of this child. She waited with graceful patience the almost 10 long months it took to grow this baby. I'm so proud of her. She is but one of a wave of women who are taking back birth. Taking back the glorious, life-giving thing it is to bring a child into the world. Taking back joy and warding off fear. Giving birth is THE most beautiful thing in all the world. Nothing captures innocence, patience, hard work, pain, joy, wonder, and love better than birth.
   And I will get my chance. I am taking back joy! I am banishing fear!  


Job 8: 19-21¹⁹ “ Behold, this is the joy of His way,

      And out of the earth others will grow.

 ²⁰ Behold, God will not cast away the blameless,
      Nor will He uphold the evildoers.

 ²¹ He will yet fill your mouth with laughing,
      And your lips with rejoicing."

The night is long, but the morning is bright. I will not always be filled with pain, but slowly I am beginning to see the beauty in life. I am choosing joy. I am choosing to see the good. I am choosing NOT to despair but to cling to the faith that God will restore the laughter in my eyes. 

This last weekend I was so angry with Nolan. We were driving down to see his parents when I felt a wave of sorrow engulf me. I wept while I drove and silently berated God for not letting me have my son. Nolan asked what was wrong and I told him I felt as though my grief was going to swallow me whole. And he shook his head and said, "Samantha, I wish you'd just trust God." I thought how dare he! I let him grieve any way he wants. I've been understanding and kind and gentle and here he is condemning me for having trust issues with the one Being who could have kept my son alive. How dare he?! Then I felt ashamed. I know in my head that trusting God is the only way to get through this, but I just didn't feel very charitable at the moment toward God. So next I lied to Nolan. I told him I trusted God just fine and that it is perfectly ok for me to question God. Job did after all. Then (I'm ashamed to admit) I turned it around on Nolan saying he must not even care that Asher died if he can so easily trust with out questioning. Just blind faith! I said a lot of other horrible things I don't want to write about too. But, now I see he is right. I do need to 'just trust God'. Isaiah 55:8-9 says "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts. " I can gain an understanding of God through his word, but I will never be able to know the depths of the "whys" and "hows" of Almighty God. For some reason He allowed Asher to die. But he also allowed me to peacefully birth him, hold him and bury him. He allowed a wonderful pregnancy full of joy. He gave me friendships I may never have had if not for Asher. The three weeks after Asher's death were the best three weeks of my marriage in many ways. God has taught me about the peace that passes all understanding, something that I would never have known without Asher's death. I know it is only a short amount of time I have on this earth till I go to heaven myself and see my baby again. And I know that I don't want to spend it in despair.

In Italian, the literal translation of "to give birth" - "dare alla luce,"- is "to give to the light".  I want to give to the light. So I will choose joy. I will be pregnant again someday. I will face my fears of loosing another child. I will do the most beautiful thing. I will birth again. 

So, to Baby Q! Welcome to the light!

Out of the Race

Today I put myself out of the running for mother and wife of the year for sure. This morning at 4am Nolan passed out at work and was sent to the emergency room (he has influenza and bronchitis). He and other people tried to call all morning but I slept through it all. When he finally got home he was so mad at me because I had failed to put the phone back on the hook, therefor it was on the floor and I couldn't hear it ring. He was finally forced to call his parents for help. I'm sure he doesn't think he can rely on me. Then I worked an 8 hour shift instead of the original 3 hours planned and didn't call him. When I go home he wanted to know why I let him worry all day and didn't even think to call. And why I wasn't here all day to take care of him. Then I went to pick up Vera from my mom and dads (my dad watched her all day for me). When I got there I couldn't find the car-seat and dad said he thought mom took it with her too work by accident. So I decided to just buckle Vera in a regular seatbelt and go home. We're both fine but what if something had happened? "Well, I was tired and I just wanted to get home. I didn't think we'd get into an accident and she would go flying through the windshield. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen!" I'm just asking for another dead child. Then Vera was playing with Nolan after we got home and she wouldn't leave him along and he started not to be able to breath. Well I didn't notice anything even though I was sitting 2 feet away and Nolan almost passed out again trying to get Vera to stop jumping on him. And the house was also a mess all day and there are 3 loads of laundry in baskets not folded, 3 loads of dirty laundry sitting around, and dirty dishes line the sink. I failed all day. I failed even when I was sleeping today. I really want to crawl into a small hole and have someone shovel dirt over the top of me and never come out.
I feel as if God is showing me why he didn't want to leave Asher with me. That I'm not responsible enough for another child. I can't even keep my house clean or help my husband when he's sick or make good judgement calls about illegal and dangerous situations involving Vera. I royally bombed today.

I Want Another Baby Now.....

....... well maybe.

Right at this moment I feel like I want to be pregnant again. Like right now. I feel a kind of urgency...... almost as if time is running out. According to my charts I'll ovulate in 2 days. (Probably TMI but I don't care because this is my blog.) Nolan and I could try this have-a-baby-thing again. I think I'm just exceedingly weary of empty arms. At the very least I'd like a giant baby bump to wrap my arms around. I remember feeling this way just before we decided to get pregnant with Asher. Baby-itus I called it. But this feels different. I can't pinpoint it exactly...... but I just have a sense that its not the right time. I know that I don't want this child to only be a space filler. I have to get back to the place where I want another child for the sake of the child......... not for the sake of filling a void in my life. I know that I want to do a home birth again. But I also feel that I need MORE somehow. Like daily heartbeat check with a doppler and weekly sonogram to make sure everything is developing correctly. If I'm honest, the MORE I want is a total guarantee that I will have a live and healthy baby. But no one is ever guaranteed MORE.

 I usually feel like I don't ever want to try again. I never want to take this chance again. If it can happen once.... it can happen again. I'm not sure what would happen to me if this happened again. I used to say that if any of my children died I would need to be put into a mental institution because I would go crazy. I truly, honestly, 100% believed that. I have no idea why I'm not a slobbering mess in a mental hospital right now. My children dying before me was probably my biggest fear in all the world. I can't think of anything I'm more afraid of. Nolan or Vera dying or being somehow tortured ties for first place..... but that doesn't feel like a fear anymore. I think birthing my dead child and burying him makes me feel almost fearless. Not that I don't fear other things..... but that very few things can reach that depth of horror.  Every life event is seen through tinted glasses forever more.

I just knew that everything was going to be perfect in my pregnancy and birth of Asher...... I was so wrong.... and I just don't know if I can ever risk being that wrong again.

Song #8 - Rain

I've been distracting myself lately with Bones. It's why I haven't written. I guess I'm entranced by it because it is an entire TV show devoted to discovering why a person died. And that is my hearts cry. I heard today's song on one of the last episodes of the first season. Enjoy.

The worst moment I spoke of earlier was when Paul came in. Paul is the man from Garden View Funeral Home. Paul carried my tiny cold son away in a black duffel bag. Paul was kind. He didn't try to offer me advice or make me feel better. Paul was made to be a funeral director. If you live near me, and have attended a funeral at Garden View you have most likely met Paul.

My parents had left the hospital to shower and take care of my other siblings. My mother-in-law stayed because I asked her to. I didn't want to be by myself when I did the inevitable; hand Asher over.. Right after Asher was born I was told that we could hold him for as long as I wanted and that when I was ready they would call the mortuary. At about 7am I had finally had all I could take. I called the nurse and asked her to call the mortuary. I have tremendous guilt over this now because I really only held Asher for around 4 or 5 hours. At the time it seemed like an eternity. If I had realized how empty my arms were going to feel in the days and months ahead I'd have held him longer. We had taken pictures, we had passed him around, we had cried, and I was totally spent. I had been awake for over 24 hours and lost and birthed a child in that time. So I called for Paul.

I fell asleep around 7am and woke about 10mins before Paul arrived, as if anticipating his arival. I was stired awake by one of the sweetest sounds I've ever heard, and will likely ever hear this side of heaven. It was my mother-in-law rocking and singing to Asher. The only light in the room that was on was shining down onto her and Asher. The scene like a dream. God Himself was presiding over that moment, comforting my mother-in-law, Marla, in the last few moments she had to hold her grandson.

When she looked up and noticed I was awake I asked to have Asher back. She handed him to me and I wrapped my arms around him for the last time. Death used to be so terrifying to me, but now it is only heartbreaking. And I never understood what the old-time saints meant when they said they were homesick for heaven, but I do now. It takes real effort to live in the now when I am so ready for Christ to call me home. No more sorrow. No more sickness. No more pain. I will embrace my Asher again.

After Paul arrived he and I spoke for a few minutes. And when I was ready I kissed my sweet child goodbye and told him that it wouldn't be long until mommy came home. That was the hardest, most terrible moment of my life. I handed Asher to to Marla and she carried him behind the curtain, I didn't want to watch them take him away. I wept and sobbed quietly while Paul wrapped him up and placed him into what looked like a black duffel bag. Then I guess Paul walked out of the room, down the hall, into the elevator, down more halls, out the hospital doors, got into his car and drove back to Garden View. I have always wondered what passers by thought was in that small bag held by the somber looking young man with big eyes and perfect hair. Did they assume he was taking clothes to a relative somewhere? Did they even register that black bag? Had another woman recognized that bag from her own journey? Hours later I had impulses to tear out of the hospital in my blue hospital issue socks with rubber bottoms and run to the mortuary to reclaim my son. To tell them it had all been a terrible mistake. I just knew it couldn't have happened and that I needed to go get Asher.

After Paul left, Marla also had to go home. She had been up all night and was exhausted as well. I kissed her bye and she was gone. It was the first moment that I had been alone in over 14 hours. The silence was overwhelming and I felt as though I were drowning. I leaned back and sobbed again. Great tears rolled from my eyes in droves. I wanted to roll to my side to curl into the fetal position and try to hide from the hurt but I was stuck on my back from the epidural. So I just laid there looking up at the ceiling and allowing my body to shake with heartache. Finally the exhaustion overtook my body and I fell asleep. A dark, dreamless sleep it was.

Song #8 - Rain by Patty Griffin