deeper than the holler

Today, I feel bare. I feel stripped away of the ordinary, day-to-day emotions that usually clothe me. As the typical thoughts and feelings lay crumpled in a heap next to me, I realize that as I stand stark, raw, a clearness takes way. And all I am left with, all I see before me, is love.

The past week has been tough. No lie. I'm not proud to say that I felt like, on more than one occasion, this world had got the better of me. I felt sucked up by a cold wind, tossed about, and thrown down sharply against a rock hard ground.

I don't like feeling like this. It's definitely not a way I choose to live. But every once in a while, it happens. In fact, I downright despise the feelings that coursed through me.

But, as I have experienced before, wonderful things come from being ravaged by a life-storm. Truly magnificent things.

You see, when you finally just stand still and realize that there is nothing left to do except let the storm pass over you, there is peace. There is no more fighting the wind. No more struggle against the piercing rain. Just an amazing sense of clarity amidst the cloudiness.

And then love. Right there in front of me, love. And though there is plenty of love that surrounds me, the love that sheltered me most this week was the love of my husband.

You all know he is heaven-sent, right? I definitely believe that. Like I believe in laughter. Like I believe in play. Like I believe in the sun's ability to warm me from the inside out. I know Jeremiah was for me with all of the me that I am. God gave me him. He sent him to me, for me to love, for me to be loved, for us to create love.

I just love him. He does something for me- well, aside from the obvious ;)- on a level that is just his. He has a way of speaking to my heart without a whisper escaping his lips. I look to him, when all is blowing about around us, and I feel safe. When I worry that I am being carried away, that I am allowing the negative to take over, I find redemption and hope in his eyes.

This week, in particular, wrought with worry and fearing the unknown climb ahead of us, I turned to him. This man who seems unshakeable, who has kept to the course without so much as a stutter step.

I see this incredible strength and hope shine from him. So I asked him.

'Do you think there is something wrong with me? Am I bad, or wrong for focusing on the scary news? Why am I such a mess and so upset over all this, and you seem to be fine? Is there something wrong, am I so negative, that I only see the frightening words jump from the page?'

That was really how I asked it, as I had tears forging a stream down my face. I asked it because I needed to know the answer. Because he always tells me the truth, even if the truth isn't what I desire. I asked because I had been wondering those thoughts in my head- not aloud- for quite some time, and I needed an answer.

And with love coating his tongue and care in his eyes, he answered.

'No, honey, there is nothing wrong with you. You are a mom. You're his mom, and you're right to be worried. We're just different.  But you're not wrong. It's okay.'

And now I am crying as I type this. Because hearing him say that put my heart back together. I had been so consumed by apprehension and fear, but I also was just as heavily questioning my own response. I had felt such defeat and was angry at myself for not stepping up to the plate. I was mad at me for not rallying this time, and for letting the emotion take control.

But with his words, he lifted me. He brought me back to my feet. He removed that negative weight. He redeemed me.

I know- TRUST ME, I KNOW- how blessed I am to call this man my husband. He is unbelievably good, and honest, and loving, and right. And he is mine to love!

I love you honey! You're the best, most loving, kindest, caring, most honest man that ever was and I'm so lucky that you picked me for your wife!

sweet Jack

In the past week, we have had some appts for Jack- all referrals from the geneticist. We need to find out more about his condition, so we have been sent to various specialists to get more information.

The first one was a mixed review. At his otolaryngologist appt, they determined that is hearing is within normal levels!!! YEA!!!!! They think that he failed his 3 previous hearing tests because he had fluid in is ears, which was later absorbed by his body. The development of fluid isn't abnormal. He might have it happen more than others because of his cilia condition. But I was thrilled that my son could hear. One hurtle down.

But while we were there, the otolaryngologist (I don't remember his name- shame on me!) he said he thought Jack's mucus looked TOO THICK. I thought, 'Okay, thanks for sharing.' Then he said he needed to scope him. So he did, and poor Jack did NOT like that one bit. He concluded that mucus is thicker than normal (a word I have come to despise), and is related to the cilia condition. One more unfortunate box to check when pursuing testing. But it could be worse.

We also went to the abdominal ultrasound appt.....to determine presence, location and size of spleen, kidney and liver size, as well as stomach and intestine info. We don't know anything concrete yet. I went into the appt a little confused. I was not aware that the NICU team determined that he DID have a spleen. So I thought we were just trying to verify if he had one. (Jeremiah says he told me this back then, but honestly, so much was said, that I forgot even the good news.) There were a couple very specific things we were looking for-- size of spleen, location, whether it was malrotated (like everything else is for Jack), and whether there was just one spleen.

I will share when we have confirmed things more. I continue to pray and feel hopeful that because our son is growing and happy and seemingly fine, he will be fine.

Oh, and if I haven't already told you-- Jack is taking steps!!! He doesn't get too far. We all cheer him on and praise him, and then, for reasons unbeknownst to us, Jack thinks it is hysterical to plop down on his butt. So, the routine goes, step 1- smile, step 2 - mischevious grin, step 3- his eyes twinkle, and then he sits, and starts laughing at us. Like, 'You silly fools, I am not a circus monkey performing tricks.'

He also has 6 teeth, with a couple more coming in. He is eating food and we've already discovered he is-  like the other boys in the family- a true meat lover.

Here are some pictures of the past week or so!

a very muggy day of t-ball

honoring life today

I sent prayers up today. Lots of them. For the families who never got to hold a precious child, and for the families that did and had to hand them over to God too soon. Pregnancy and Infant Loss Day shook me this year.

The very idea of pregnancy and infant loss is such an incredible contradiction, a cruel irony, really. Pregnancy and new life are symbols of hope, of promise, of love, of divine creation. So to mix those ideas with that of loss, of death, seems to be such a tragic combination of extremes. And I think that is probably the best way to describe it. For me, anyway.

We lost our first child to miscarriage when I was 13 weeks along. Early, yes, but that did not make the loss any less in my eyes. I longed to be a mother for as long as I could remember. I always envisioned a loud, crowded home, filled with love and children. I wanted so desperately to make my wonderful husband a father, to come together as parents, and care for and grow a child. And I was graced with a child. A baby in my womb that was loved from the moment I saw a pink line spread across an itty bitty plastic window.  I dreamt of family trips to Disneyland, walks in the park beneath shady trees, cuddling our child against my chest as I rocked him or her to sleep. Losing that baby devastated me-us. It tested my faith. And it took me a while to come back around, and to see that He was at work. Always.  I have mixed emotions when I grow sad over the child that we never knew, because I have Tyler Adam. I became pregnant with him 4 months before our 1st baby's due date. I could not have both, and God gave me Tyler. How could I ever look at my boy and not feel incredibly blessed?

But then we were introduced to infancy loss on an entirely different level, when we were told initially that our 3rd gift from God had serious complications. When we were taken into a room and told that something was wrong. When we were told to consider terminating 'the pregnancy'. That day involved us in a whole new level of struggle, of worry. Still, we trudged through the heartache, and kept our eyes on the prize, so to speak. Even though everyone around us was telling us, warning us, of what could and probably would play out when he was born into this world, we kept our focus on our son, and the day we would get to cradle him to our hearts.

And when he was born, he was whisked away, but I saw him, for a brief, fleeting moment. 

He was here- this breathing, living, beautiful boy. The joy that poured from my heart was so intense. And the mood in the room was unmistakeable. Hope and happiness are as evident as rain dripping in front of you, as apparent as the moon shining in the sky. For a while, my fears and worry quieted. All I felt was happiness and unending love. 

Then, when I was finally able to be wheeled up to see him the next day, I was pulled back into that world of fear, worry and desperation. Jack William was just one of so many baby's fighting, struggling in that NICU. And even with the worry and concern over our son, we knew (boy, did we know) how blessed we were that he seemed to be winning the fight with each breath he took. So many baby's were not. It was heart wrenching. I can remember the smells of the antiseptic, hear the sounds of monitors beeping and nurses whispering in hushed tones, feel the fear knot up in my stomach still today, thinking of our time there. Seeing my child being fed not at my breast by my nourishment, but by tubes is such an unnatural, simply crippling thing.  Seeing an IV tube stabbed into the very thin skin of his scalp, because his other veins had simply had enough. But still, he was among the healthier baby's. He would, we prayed, be coming home. 

And, again, I felt conflicted. On the one hand, so incredibly grateful and blessed that our son was spared from a worse fate. On the other hand, feeling guilty and somewhat like a traitor amongst the other parents, who watched as we wheeled our son past them on his homegoing day. I still feel that way.

As we continue to face medical scares and problems regarding Jack's heterotaxy syndrome, I am always aware of how blessed we are. He is here. Today, he is with me, playing at my feet, laughing as he tears up his sister's artwork. He is here. 

The only way I know how to honor all those children who are not here, and the families that long to hold them, is to know and be grateful for each moment I get to hold my son. To appreciate his laughter fully, to cherish and hold deeply each moment he lays his sweet head against my chest. 

And I lift them up in prayer. I ask God to blanket them with His love, to shelter them from the pain. I pray that they know that mother's everywhere long to reach out to them, hold them, absorb some of their pain. I pray.

"For I  know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord. "Plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

Not Me! Monday

Well, if I was coming on here to participate in Not Me Monday, I might have a lot to share, but since I've done nothing this week that fell below the high standards I have set for myself as a mother, wife, and person, I most definitely DO NOT have a thing to share.
On the other hand.........
It might be fun to tell you all how my children, more than a few nights this past week, have walked around in the buff after their nightly bath because there were no pajamas to be found in the likely places.
And, they might have continued walking around (still, in the buff) aimlessly, until I directed them to the couch, were 75% of their clothing laid out in nice piles, just waiting for a mama to take them to a room and hang them up or tuck them into drawers.
And, in keeping with that story, it might be even more forthcoming to tell you that while those clothes were put away a couple days ago, another NEW pile is gathering, and gaining height as I type this very post. But since that was NOT ME, their is NO need to share such a story.

I am always paying 100% attention to my little ones-- ESPECIALLY the littlest of all, who tends to find trouble around every corner.
IF I didn't always keep my eyes peeled and focused on my babies, I might have a confession or two to share.
Like, say for example.....if, and only if, I was so busy making my gajillionth bow that was such a necessity (because, you know, a trillion bows is just not enough) that I did not notice how quiet my little Jack was.
Then, I may have been able to prevent the mess, also known as Markergate 2009, that Jack might have made while I was creating.
You see, if Markergate had actually happened, it might have involved an orange marker, a table, a couch, and precious baby face. But since I am ALWAYS aware, such a thing would NEVER have happened!

(this photo is a dramatization and was created strictly for Not Me Monday intent's and purposes)

As I mentioned, I always adhere to the highest principles in mommyhood AND wifedom. But if I fell short of my self-set expectations, I might have created a rather awkward snafu that might have been slightly mortifying for myself, my son, and some unwitting, yet gracious, man.

IF...  I was waiting for my husband to show up at the base pharmacy/clinic I might have told Tyler that his daddy had finally arrived (after spotting him through the windows) and was walking through the doors, and I might have sent Tyler to greet him.

Tyler might have been so thrilled to see his uniform-clad Daddy that he ran to give him a big,warm hug, only to find out that the man was not, in fact, his father, and just some other similarly built,  bald-headed gentleman in a flight suit.

That might have been very embarrassing for BOTH mother AND child (and said bald-headed gentleman).

And my husband, if he read my blog, might get a chuckle out of this since such a thing was not shared with him sooner. But since this DID NOT happen, and my husband (if he read my blog) knows I would never mistake him- the love of my life- for anyone else, I have NOTHING to worry about.

Because the story above is pure fiction- so, you know, this NEVER happened.

So, there you have it! A bunch of things I DID NOT, COULD NOT, WOULD NOT DO, because, as I have told you before, I am unflappable, earnestly aware, tediously tidy, and as efficient as can be. Like I even need to tell you these things......

The woman who did the things mentioned above was, without a doubt, NOT ME!!!!

What about you lovely folks? What kinds of things have you NOT done this week?