Most Important....

First things first.

Please visit my friend Holly's blog: http://carleighmckenna.blogspot.com . She gave birth to her sweet Carleigh last week, and is in the midst of preparing her sweet angel child's burial. She needs support - - and I think she should have all that we can give her. She is a woman full of grace and courage. Tell her so. She deserves to hear it.

Which leads me to my next topic.

How on earth do women do it? How do women bare children, and hand them back to our God quickly after? My heart has ached for this sweet mother, and in the back of my mind, I know I am weeks away from the same journey.

How do these sweet mothers go on to have the same faith in the same God to, in the future, deliver them a healthy baby again, down the road? Yet one of my closest and dearest friends had a healthy baby after Anencephaly a couple months ago. God remains the same, as should our faith, but I'll admit to my sweet Jesus, I am quickly exhausting. The sadness is more this week. A reminder of what stands to come. May God carry us all through it, is my humble prayer this evening. Please let it be yours, too.

Pink. Green. Maybe a little brown.

Oh friends. Don't you love pictures when they depict that motherhood suits you? This is me and Hannah - - YEARS ago, yet it still remains one of my favorites.

Now.... the last couple weeks.... I cannot tell you how many loads of vomit wash I have done, how many pink (infected) eyes I have washed out, noses I have wiped and de-clogged, fevers I've tested and medications I have administered. Holy freaking crap.

And now.

Now for the best part. I caught it. Caught it all. Even the pink-pussy-eyes. Do I hear an "ewwwwwwww"? Because really? Spell it with me. I look N-A-S-T-Y. Days upon days of about 2 hours of sleep per night does wonders for you..... NOT. Sleepless nights do, however, do wonders for my nerves AND my eye bags. Sleepless nights some how keep me from showering. I won't even tell you how many days it's been. Oh, Ladies.... what a rough week or so. But now, a Z-pack and lots of codeine cough syrup later, I feel 40% better. I am on the mend. Praise God. Seriously. I am not being sarcastic. I'm not cut out to be sick, nor am I cut out to be the "tender" of all those that are sick. Not my strong point.

It's dawned on me this week that I have 5 1/2 to 7 1/2 weeks to prepare for Isaac's arrival. Just those short weeks to plan his burial and memorial. Those weeks to plan for more photographs, packing my hospital bag, getting the children situated at school. The time has flown. Seriously it has. I have been reminded this week that no matter how huge this trial is to me, it is also a sacred honor to make this sacrifice for my Father in Heaven. I know we all believe so differently, but this I know to be true. God lives. He is real. His plan for our eternal progression is real. This child I am carrying is perfect. He is exempt from a life on this earth. Although we are desperate to keep him, I am willing to help create his body, allow for his breath of life, and will humbly pass him back to our Maker. This child will grow in the here-after, and there will be day that he is mine again. I will know him and love him. There is a great peace in following the plan which God has set before me. As much as my heart aches and my mind grieves, I have faith that there will be more children for me. There is happiness ahead. There is peace and understanding to be gained. As for now, I will cherish and enjoy each movement from my sweet child, and will cherish and love him for what ever amount of time God chooses to give me with him. I will look for the peace that surpasses all understanding, and will continue to believe I am walking hand in hand with the Savior, to give this sweet little perfect boy just what he needs.

Listen and Learn.

I know I've posted about this video before, and I tend to stay away from watching it because I sob until my whole body aches.

But.

Listen to the words of this song. It touches your soul in a tender way, and truly describes my feelings. Makes me want to dig my guitar out and write a song, such as this, like I used to.

Downhill.

I have found, through the last 8 weeks, that it is amazing what one can learn to live with. Some days I feel like I am sailing along, getting by, and some days I feel like I merely exist. I found myself feeling low today, and feeling the gravity of the situation, when some days I don't. I had the children out shopping with me tonight - the girls especially were in need of some new spring and summer clothing, which I have been ignoring the last few weeks. I came across the most darling piece of clothing for a baby boy, and I almost bought it, and then immediately thought "why bother". At some point, the preparation has to hault, and the realization has to come that I don't get to plan and shop for this baby like I have for the others. And while I hate to admit it, it's true. This child does not need the amount of clothing my other children have needed, this baby is going to die. And standing there, round as can be, thinking that in the store made my heart ache so. I want this baby so bad. So bad it hurts. I want to raise him, love him, feed him, rock him, sing to him, hold him, burp him, dress him, bathe him just like I have my other children. I want my baby to live. I want to feel joy every time he moves, but I feel reminded that although my child is moving, he is lacking the greater part of this brain. And along with that, I feel the exhaustion that not only comes from grieving, but from being pregnant. I can't eat, I can't sleep as well as I want, my body aches, my ribs hurt, my back hurts, I am tired of giving myself injections because my insulin levels are so off because of the constant stress I feel. I want to feel excited for the baby to be born, but I feel so frightened that he might not live long enough to bring him home, which is my most secret wish. I am afraid of how I am going to feel once the baby is born, and dies. I'm afraid to get pregnant again, although I want to, more then anything else in the world. I'm afraid to put my whole faith in knowing I'll bear a healthy child again. I still feel frustrated at the great lack of support I long for from my family and Andrew's, and I worry that this is going to change my relationship with some individuals forever. I don't know how to go back, and realize that I never can. Our lives somehow are being molded by our Maker and some day we'll know and understand why. I am willing to serve the Lord in this way, but every day I feel more inadequate to fulfill this sacrifice. Oh how we love this child and will be eager to meet him, and pray for many tender mercies along the way.

Bird Brain.

It's been a long week. For many reasons, I guess. I've been meaning to post, but I just wasn't feeling it. Above is Beatrice. I spent some time with one of my girlfriends today taking some pictures of her birds. It was a nice way to escape. I forget I love photography, and then I get behind the camera, and feel a peace that is comforting.

It's funny when I find time to sit and think, my mind often wanders back to my childhood. I felt satisfaction tonight, placing a meal on the table, and watching my family eat and enjoy. I thought back to when I was a kid, and knowing what Sunday dinner meant at my house. It meant a pot full of all of the weeks leftovers, mixed together, as some sort of slop. Not my kind of "Sunday Family Dinner". I'm thankful I have more.

This week I've thought a lot about burial plans for my baby.... whether we are going to go the traditional route or cremation. It's tricky living in such a religious community - I feel like I have people breathing down my neck. I don't want to know what they think is a righteous or more main stream choice. I fully plan to do exactly what I want, which is what will be the very best for me and my family, me and my baby.

I'm back into the normal swing of house work, although the more round I get, the more hard it is to clean. I feel more comfortable in my own skin when the house is in order. I felt peaceful shoving in a load of clothes to wash for the kids and Andrew tonight. I feel thankful that I have clothes to wash and dishes to do, and messes to pick up off the floor. It means my home is full, and that is just how I like it to be.

Fearfully and Wonderfully.

"Thou hast covered me in my mother's womb. I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made..... " Psalms 139:13-14