Holidays Spent with Sweet Family

Shooting his .22

Letting her try it out

The inseparable duo

Feeding Moses...undoubtedly the sweetest, most gigantic mule in the state of Texas

More shooting

Loving on each other and Mother happened to catch it on camera

As mentioned before, last week found us on the road once more. I absolutely love how well the children travel. Must be hereditary cause I love to go....but I am forever endeared to home as well. I love to go but there is such comfort and contentment in returning home when all is done. Leaving Nanny and Pawpaw's is always bittersweet. I'd live there if I could....along with every one of our children. I love the encouragement and support that they are to all of life. I love how much they are head over heels in love with us and every one of our children. Not many adults are able to have the relationship with their grandparents that Brad and I are able to have with his and there are very few children that know their great grandparents like our's have been blessed to know their's.

Daddy fixin' it

Most of Pawpaw's cantankerous herd of mules

Shootin' the bull with Raul

Hitchin' a ride with Uncle Chris, Aunt Abby and Milo

Sunset on the pens

Heading back

Sweet boys

Sweet responsible handsome boy

Taking a break

Leading the pack.....as always.

Waiting for the fun to begin

Having some mule time

In Fort Worth at Great Granny's

Some serious play time with Great Granny

He's almost as tall as she is

There are indeed 2 children in this tree....and both are visible. Can you find them?

Daddy's sweet "Shorty"

Pretty girl.....even if she is upside down

Up in the tree tops

So this would've been perfect if Grayson's face wasn't filled with a little red hairbowOn the road again

At day's end

Thanksgiving Night

The house is quiet and we're far from home. Little children sleep on sleeping bags strewn out on floors while quiet giggles of older children float down the dimly lit hallway. With Brad on shift the children and I made our way up to friends and family to fellowship and give thanks for all of life. Because, quite honestly, I didn't feel quite like giving thanks just yet alone on one of the most fun holidays of the year. When left unattended my mind tends to wander still and begin to linger on the hardships.

Today makes 2 weeks since the baby came and there is still no sign of this ending. "In a week or two" has officially crept by like the last 13 have done and nothing has really changed. I grow easily frustrated and tears never seem to be far....a vividly stark contrast to the old self that existed before summer in a world where tears were seldom to none. The dr's "week or two" prediction given at the hospital has now passed along with the "week or two" given after the phone call about the baby. I was sent for lab work early last week in which they called and said I am officially no longer pregnant due to my pregnancy hormones finally having dropped off the scale. Iron levels are finally starting to show signs of significant improvement. It was reason for rejoicing for a day or so. So, their answer to my questions? A "week or two". But once again we blew past that week or two too. I'm not sure why God has not healed my body yet. I'm not sure why day after day my heart's cries to Him go yet unanswered....or if they ever will be. I'm not sure why my body hasn't seen fit to function properly again after this. And I'm really not sure why those that miscarried the same time mine began in Sept are now so far along in yet another pregnancy that they have known now for some weeks. Maybe because God wanted to get me on my knees in a more intimate way than I have ever known. ...to the point that I cannot stand within His presence as I come to recognize His presence and all that He is....exactly Who He is. Perhaps He wanted to reveal Himself to me in ways He could never have otherwise done. Maybe now it is a just a test of my endurance. It has become a bit like running at this point. When I finally come to terms with the running and forget about the end...when I just come to accept the running for what it is and my mind falls into the rhythm of utter submission to my body and merciless mind quits fighting and striving for the end.....it becomes clear that I could run forever. Once the striving ceases the sense of infinite, victorious freedom begins to reign. So perhaps once I am no longer battling both emotions of the heart and mind and striving to be where I am not...for the finish line to come into view.....I will have conquered this race and the physical healing within can begin. Maybe this is God proving to me that I can go father than I ever dared think possible because of what He has enabled within me and what I am capable of doing in Him when functioning within the realm of His Spirit....and how far I fall when I fail to stay within it. It is so much more than a miscarriage at this point. It is learning how to push past the exhaustion point not just once but over and over and over again until it becomes a way of life...to know that I am capable of so much more even when I don't want to be.

(Women Readers Only - for the ones that have emailed asking questions as to the health of my body and have found it hard to comprehend or understand exactly what part of this process is still going)

I am tired of beating around the bush and trying to masquerade that which I speak of in shadowed, hued tones as I try to keep any and all female problems out of it. I strive to make this readable by the public, both male and female, and keep any and all information that may be too personal out of it.....especially when speaking in terms of female related problems. But I am exhausted, drained both physically and emotionally and tired due to massive amounts of blood loss over the last 13 weeks which still continues with no end in sight despite dr's "professional opinions" of where my body should be at this point of the process. I am just plain tired of trying to be discreet about the blood loss and the continuation of it when people are left trying to figure out exactly why I am still so caught up in this whole mess, emailing asking what the real problem is and what exactly I speak of that is still wrong with my body. It is hard to function on every level when dealing with what I am still left dealing with. As one can imagine it effects absolutely every aspect of life from daily responsibilities to marriage to physical energy levels. So, it has become a very very personal issue that extends far past just a common miscarriage at this point.



Back to Thanksgiving......So, we made the joint decision that while Brad busied himself with doing the Heimlich maneuver on all of the geriatrics in town the children and I would head to Fort Worth to celebrate with friends and family. Thus bringing us to the present. So, here I sit. Train whistle blowing while cars speed by seemingly oblivious to all of life and the sacredness of it. It was a peaceful day and one that could surprisingly not have been spent better elsewhere.....except with Brad. Children ran freely in perfect weather gathering acorns, pine cones, sticks and colored leaves. Most of the day was spent up in trees by the ones that had the ability to scale them. The rest of the crew was content to stay below and cheer them on while busying themselves with throwing rocks and acorns.... which eventually turned to just chewing on them when the pitching of them became mundane. Nothing like raw organic material to strengthen the digestive tract.

I'm glad we came. There is nothing like learning to be thankful in a whole new way. Having to learn to see and appreciate the tiniest things in life while in the midst of such infinite trials. I saw today the weathered wrinkled beloved face of my granny as she loved, cherished, appreciated and embraced the children and my heart began to beat in the same bittersweet way it does everytime I see how fast the years steal themselves away from us. Tall 11 year old boy stood next to her smiling and my mind took me back to those same sweet faces pressed together that same sweet way 9 short years ago. And I grew more thankful than I have ever been that my children know her the way they do. I am thankful for family gathered around a table, drawn together in unity, cemented together by a past of both laughter and tears, joys and struggles as we have discovered who we are as a family and how to allow each person to flow within the relationships we have been so freely given in each other....discovering how to make it all work despite our many differing opinions and personalities. I am thankful my children know that......that they know what it is to love unconditionally, to overcome differences, to work at relationships and that they know their heritage and how deeply they are loved.

As I sat perched in the rocker observing the world from my limited range of view I watched the children play and my heart found gratefulness....and total all encompassing love. As they rolled, wrestled and giggled on soft blue granny carpet adults sat by laughingly entertained with all of their antics. Baby went from person to person freely giving kisses, chattering and bringing utter delight to the entire room. My heart once again overflowed for the millionth time in life with the gratefulness I have for them.....my 8 sweet gifts. I love the absolute love they have for each other, the joy that they find and bring to the others and the friendships they have within each other. I am so entirely thankful that I have the freedom to take them anywhere and know that they will be a joy to those they come into contact with. I am grateful that I know that we can go anywhere as a family and not be a burden to those we visit....that the place we leave will be as clean if not cleaner than when we arrived....that they have been taught how to pick up, clean up, do dishes, straighten and respect other people's lives and the things which surround them. I love that after so many years of consistency and hard work that I know they will say yes ma'am and no ma'am, yes sir and no sir and show respect to every adult in the room. I am in awe as I watch them interact with others and we begin to reap the rewards of so many years of working towards the goal. We are definitely far from ever attaining it but to see such progress is such an encouragement. I can say with utter certainty that though we have put in many many hours of hard work this is nothing we could've ever done on our own. This is the blessing of the Lord being seen upon our life and in the lives of our children...that we can count them a joy and truly enjoy them like we do....to want to be around them and to have others want to be around them. This is something that only God could've done through us as we have stumbled and tripped our way through parenting. To have their hearts turned toward the Lord and to hear them give thanks for what they have been given in life is enough to soften the most hardhearted of hearts.

As we drove the distance from one house to the other this morning each one was instructed to give one life changing thing they were thankful for. It couldn't be something basic...though there are times for that.....but had to be life altering. Grayson was quick to say how much he loves and is so thankful for a big family. Evye's was for God giving her two lifelong friends that have become like her own sisters despite the 1,500 miles that separate them. Aubrey was thankful for all the traveling we do and getting to be with Granny so much. Garrison was thankful that God gave him such good strong climbing trees.....I thought that one defnitely topped the life changing list. Grant was thankful for his big outside to run and play all over. And then sweet Garrett came. He was thankful for Grayson who bounces him so high on the trampoline. He went on to state that when he bounces "so high up to God and is smiling so big that I can see God smiling with me and He's just so happy". I was once again reminded and brought to ponder how simple life is through a child's eyes, how they take everything at face value and how free they are to see and touch spiritually what I as an adult find so hard to reach at times. And I wondered all day what God looks like because I have no doubt He has seen Him. I was humbled by sweet Gavin's life altering bit of thanks for "pretty mama".

I am thankful that my children know and understand the love of God despite the fact that I have found it so difficult to teach them at times...because I find it so hard to grasp and understand myself. I am so entirely moved beyond words with thanks that I know and can trust that my children are indeed taught by the Lord. I am thankful for completely healthy children all gathered around a table filling their tummies with everything on their plate.....that they are not picky eaters and have learned to be grateful for what is being placed before them. I am thankful for Brad.....the nights spent curled up under covers laughing and talking, content in the companionship of one another. I am thankful for the fingers that lace themselves through my hair every night that he his home and that we find ourselves more captivated with each other than we were the day we married. I love that he is still so in love with me that his nights spent alone at home are sleepless without me by his side. I am endeared to the fact that he has now come to loathe a silent house.

I do love my life. Despite the hardships and what I find so hard to overcome at times...I am in love with the extravagance of the blessings bestowed upon me. God has been gracious to me.

Pain in the Offering

I feel rather shallow for only singing gloriously the praises of God once we leave this hell hole we have been in. I feel, after reading so many things that have pricked....or stabbed....my heart with conviction, that I have done nothing but gripe, whine and cry throughout this whole journey. I am learning to embrace that it is in the pain and suffering that I will grow. I have learned over time to be absolutely entirely thankful for everything we have been given and continue to be blessed with so it's not really so much a thing of ever being ungrateful of anything we have been so exceedingly blessed with but more of a learning to be grateful for that which continues to make me grow. How do I expect to grow in sheer comfort, wrapped warmly in my convenient little packaged box? How will I ever know who I am as a person, what I am made of, and who I am in Christ if I am never prodded...or pushed.....forward? Do I really ever know what it is to rely on Him fully and to fully understand beyond all of life what it is to "do all things through Christ who strengthens me?" That has to be about the most used, quoted, memorized verse in the entire Bible...so much so that one almost loses the depth of it in the lighthearted tossing about of it. I KNOW now more than I ever have what it is to live on that verse....to understand it to its height and breadth and depth. I can now pretty much quote any given part of Psalms after having walked out the last 4 1/2 months of our life. I heard once in a sermon what it was to call upon the Lord , to lament, to cry out to Him in the worst of times but to do it Biblically so that it does not become the begging, whining and crying that the Israelites were accused of doing. In the sermon he said that God loves to hear His people cry out to Him and you can never ever go wrong with crying out what God's word says because He is never wrong. In fact, we are told over and over to meditate on His word and to wrap our hearts within it....to bind His word upon our heart. So in order to cry out to Him in all of our hurt you can use Psalms because most of it is nothing but David's records of crying out to God to help him, to save him. So.....that's just what I've done. There are days I have not even been able to pray....not even wanted to pray. So, I just start reading Psalms outloud. After nearly 5 months of it I have unexpectedly memorized much of it. And we sing....the children and I. We put on worship music and we just sing. I can praise Him in my songs and I can cry out to Him in my songs. When words fail....where they so often do....we just sing.



But I feel as times as though I have failed miserably at this whole test. Because, truth is......I just haven't fared so well at all. I have failed to thank Him for what it is we are enduring. I thank Him for how blessed we have been but not for how He treasures me enough to stretch me and grow me into who it is He wants me to become. I don't ever thank Him for the absolute pit I sit in. But who would Daniel have been without his story of being in the lions' den and who would Joseph have been without being thrown into the pit by his brothers and then sold off into slavery? Jonah without his journey into the nastiness of the whale's stomach? I mean....really. Who in the world ever wants to take a trip down into a whale's stomach??? It couldn't really have been as picturesque, clean and lovely as the children's picture book Bible portrays. It's a whale's stomach....stench, fish, blood, gastric digestive juices, internal organs, sheer disgusting nastiness a hundred fold. He would have been a nobody in the Bible without it but even more so....who would he have been as a person? Would his life have been able to progress like it did...any of those people's lives....had they not endured what they lived through? Probably not. Or God wouldn't have allowed it to happen. And in every one of those incidents...and hundreds more throughout the Bible.....God saved them in every way. He changed them, molded them into what it was He needed in them to accomplish His work. Along those same lines....there were thousands of people living back then so who were these few that were worthy enough to have mention in the Bible? The ones that He saw had the ability to do what no one else would do. I'm not sure these guys were so entirely willing to do this stuff that they began waving a flag and begging to be signed up for the road of hard knocks but God saw something in them that was worth cultivating. He saw strength, character, passion, determination, endurance. He knew he had the ability to grow their faith. He did what was needed in order to shape them into the men they eventually became. But why? Why these specific men? I think it was so much more than all of the character traits combined....He saw their hearts. He saw in their spirit the devotion to Him and the willingness to sacrifice their all to do His work. He saw great men of valor because their hearts were turned toward Him and they were committed. So much more committed than what we think of as commitment in today's society. Passionate, all out, wild abandonment to His will. The devotion of one of these men would probably rival the devotion of the entire Christian population in the US today.

So this all lead me to think as I lay in bed consumed in tears and wondering when this all will end.....would I do it all again if I knew that only one person in the entire world came to know the Lord through my journey? If only one person in the entire earth accepted Christ because of what I have endured would it make a difference in how I felt about it all? Feelings of shame overcame me as I had to actually deliberate and weigh out this new thought. To my astonishment my inclination was to say no....I wouldn't do it again. Cause afterall.....there are millions of people in the world....millions of Christians.....and wouldn't that one person have a shot at it through somebody else witnessing to them? Tears of utter selfishness turned to rivers of shame. How could such severe mediocrity as a follower of Jesus Christ have so overcome me? How could I just rely on someone else to seemingly toss a Bible at someone and assume that would be enough? And once again....where has my willingness to suffer gone...or did it ever truly exist? What would it be to enter Heaven and have just one someone throw their arms around me and say, "It is because of you that I am here"? And there I lay in the darkness and the tears actually having to decide if I would do it again if it meant that one person were to know Jesus like I am coming to know Him? How selfish....how shameful......how utterly self focused on pleasure and comfort my life has become. But that also meant having to say that I would once again lay in bed awake while unknowingly to me our little girl was being raped down the hallway under the same roof. It is still very much a daily process for me to let go of the immense guilt of all that transpired that night. It is still daily coming to accept that it did happen and that it will truly always be my fault but that God does forgive. Millions of times each day I have to once again accept His forgiveness or I otherwise will never overcome this. But admitting that I would do this all again for just one person to accept Christ and know Him like I am coming to know Him was purposefully saying I would let it happen again. More tears fell. But as we have been told so many times before by everyone involved that helped us through those first few weeks, she is surrounded by the people and tools to help her overcome all of this. So much so that 4 months past it all she has been given miraculous reports on her assessments for how she is overcoming it all and how untraumatized she has been by it. Knowing that God gave her to us to raise according to His will and to recognize who she is in Him and what her purpose here is....would I go through it all again? If it meant someone's life was changed because of our testimony...or perhaps her's when she is older? It also meant that I would once again go through this seemingly infinite miscarriage. It meant seeing that second little line on the pregnancy test and being absolutely elated......so much like little baby waving gleefully at us that July 4th day. It meant knowing our baby would die and knowing I would have a very complicated miscarriage that lasted months upon months. It meant being unable to get pregnant for quite some time. It meant watching women carry their babies successfully to the same due date I was given and not having our baby to fill it. It meant watching other women announce their pregnancies while I cannot. It meant living through the guilt and suffocating, claustrophobic pain of what happened to Aubrey. If it meant doing all of this again for the sake of just one person....would I do it? Long hair wet with tears by this point I realized the excruciating pain there is in the offering. What it is to sacrifice oneself for His purpose. Thoughts of Abraham standing before the alter with knife held above head ready to pierce his one and only son...the very gift God had been so faithful to give....danced throughout my mind. He was going to do it. He was going to sacrifice his little boy for the one and only God.

So one quiet thought lead to another.....if it meant no one in the world ever came to know Him due to all of this would it change my outlook? Would I then be free to resent it all and to continue my anger at God for the present situation I currently endure? If nothing but self growth came from it and not one person was eternally changed due to this specific situation would I do it again? If God was using this to merely grow me into an Abraham, Joseph, Daniel, Paul, Job or Jonah would I do it again? He called upon Abraham to sacrifice his son, though in the end Isaac's life was spared, just to grow Abraham into who He saw that he was within. He had to develop him....to grow him into that person he became. No one came to know the Lord during the time Joseph was in the pit. It was an incident that God used to shape him and mold him and write his life story that he would become who he eventually became. All of these people learned what it was to completely die to self to truly live. It is in dying that they lived.

With tears still falling freely I whispered audibly into the dark room, "I would, Lord. I would. I would do it all again for you." The passion within my own heart cries out to be shaped and grown into what it is He has for me...for Brad and I as a couple....for our children...and for us as a family....for each of the children individually as their own persons. I want to be an Abraham, Daniel, Joseph or Paul. I want to be someone so passionate and abandoned to His call and His will that He would find me worthy of putting in the Bible. I want to be called His servant. "Many are called but few are chosen." I want to be one of the few He chooses because He sees in me something He can work with. I want Him to see the passion, diligence, determination, meekness, endurance, faith. I want Him to see my heart and that I have given Him my all in total, wild abandonment....that I will die for Him.


So, let there be pain in the offering. Because in the pain I become who it is He wants me to be. In the pain I learn to rely solely on Him for my every breath that I take. In the pain I become the person He can use. In the pain I learn to reflect His image. Because of the pain oneday He will look at me and see Himself clearly.

Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures

Anyone who is desperate enough to take this nastiness has definitely hit the pinnacle of desperation. Known for its amazing mineral content and health benefits it came HIGHLY recommended by many as an aid in elevating my iron count. Ummmm.......I suppose those would be the ones who actually got past the taste and choked it down....or who perhaps never even TASTED what they were busy recommending. How on earth does anyone swallow this without puking it up shortly thereafter?????? But, in an effort to applaud myself I will say that I have successfully downed it for about 5 days now. It was so nasty that a bowl of oatmeal or on toast made it last waaaaay too long. So, I have reached the conclusion that it's better just to dig deep and get it over with quickly......soooo, I fill a tablespoon up, TWICE I might add, and just eat it by the spoonfuls.



But given the fact that I have been told I can no longer exercise, run or train for the 5K until I get my iron count up I have found I can do pretty much anything when I'm motivated. Supposedly, to be this low and do any kind of hard physical activity puts my life at risk. I still have a very hard time believing I am at risk of just falling over on some colleche road with a stroke or heart attack at the age of 34. In fact, I find it rather laughable and hard not to just dismiss in whole. But according to the medical profession, and Brad, somehow in some way the iron in your blood is imperative when you perform any kind of heavy physical exertion...something about iron being the oxygen transporter. And yes....at one point in my life I was a nursing major that made an A in A&P. Where all that info went is up for debate now. I think somewhere along the way it got drowned in the bowl of Cheerios, smeared in the peanut butter and honey sandwiches and stuck in the syrup poured all over the floor. But, way back in the day, I actually knew all this stuff. Scary to think I am teaching science to my children. But Brad did attempt to explain it all to me once more. My brain fails me at the current moment when trying to re-explain why this is such an important part of bodily needs....but apparently it is. In my research though I did find it interesting that severe anemia is responsible for shortness of breath, lightheadedness when going from sitting or kneeling to standing, loss of appetite and, of all things, depression. Go figure. I honestly just thought I was short of breath cause I was that out of shape. The lightheadedness and yellow spots are just pretty much a given. I figured the loss of appetite was due to all of the depression and just being overwhelmed with all of everything that has taken place over the last little while. And then the depression thing.....wow. Who knew iron deficiency could play such games with not only the body but the head too????

So, I have actually found that the taste grows on one over time....maybe just out of sheer desperation. Today I actually managed to get it down without gagging. I think it may be growing on me. Overall, I am still not done with this whole process, thus the great need for boosting my iron. Though no longer considered severely anemic I still have it to contend with as I have graduated up to only being moderately anemic....which translates into "still way too low". No exercise, no running and all of the pleasant things that accompany being "sick" with this. I was tempted to take off running despite the dire predictions since they still seem so far fetched to me but I eventually gave in to Brad's requests of putting it off for yet another little while. Seems to be the story of my life these days....wait, wait, and oh yes, then wait some more. I could actually retitle the blog "In a week or two" and have it be entirely accurate since that seems to be everyone's opinion on my physical wellbeing right now. My pain threshold is being taxed since it varies from moderate to severe. I cold handle the moderate on any given day but when it's day in and day out infinitely it gets old and I once again end up in the "I'm done with this" boat. When it gets severe I end up on the hospital strength pain meds and wonder for the 100th time that day when I will ever be normal again. I will say that I have learned through this experience to lay myself down more than I ever have in my entire life. I have learned what it is to overcome discomfort and know what it is to do "all things through Christ who strengthens me" and just continue on with the day's routine. I have learned to give when I no longer feel like giving and learned to overcome the less than wonderful mood I feel setting in when the pain or the mind games start. I have been forced to lay myself down over and again for the wellbeing of those around me...and when I just want to go to bed I know what it is to have been given the grace and strength to carry on. I think once any good parent enters into parenthood they automatically enter into the selfless part of one's self and know it more intimately than they have ever known it within themselves. But as I walk this out I think I have seen grace and strength multiplied to me over and again and have been forced to know selflessness more than I ever dared wanted to know it.

So, in an effort to continue to heal and get well and to run again I will continue on with my blackstrapping molassesing ways. And sadly, I just can't quit taking the stuff. It is quite addictive once you research it and find what all it does and provides for one's body. I told myself two days ago that that was the last time I'd ever have to take it but here I am 2 days later still gagging the stuff down. I'm sure oneday when my iron count is through the roof I will be singing its praises but, for now, it is just plain disgusting. Oh, the things one does out of desperation.

The Author of Life

For unto you is born this day.......your baby. Despite the best of medical technology, all of the many dr's, nurses and techs telling us our baby had been passed sometime Tues evening and the many months of this ongoing process our tiny baby was "born" to us this past Wednesday night. Brad and I were a bit bewildered and somewhat awe struck that so many hospital sonograms missed baby still residing within. After talking it over for quite some time I am certain that God supernaturally hid our baby from the sonographers. Had they found him I would have undoubtedly been rushed in for a D&C immediately and He has been so faithful to keep me out of surgery throughout all of this....even when I was so ready and so willing to go into it. I'm still not entirely opposed to having a D&C just to get this over with but I am so blessed and so humbled that He spared us and allowed us to see this baby of our's. It could so easily have ended with me in the OR, everything within being removed and us missed having ever seen what still lie so unknowingly within. How easily they could've just whisked me away and gotten it over with due to my cries and pleas of ending it all. His hand is becoming so apparent throughout this whole, very long, arduous process. The coming of our baby was so much of a shock to both of us that we found it hard to comprehend that what we gazed upon was a human life....our baby. But the coming of him was planned and orchestrated so perfectly in the Lord's time and so apparent, if for no other reason, than the fact that Brad was home when it happened. Seeing the baby was the absolute most amazing, miraculous, healing thing that has occurred for both of us since this road began so very many weeks ago. He was perfect. Though still unfathomably tiny he looked like a boy and had perfect arms, little elbows, little wrists and hands. We could even see his toes and where the umbilical cord is attached. He had a mouth, nose, eyes, everything. I was entirely unprepared to ever see him or the healing that came from the whole night. I thought this was something that was so far gone and so far removed from ever being a possibility that I just had to accept it for what is now and what we had been told occurred. I have been told everything from my body having reabsorbed the baby to the fact that he was still in there to him having been passed somewhere unknowingly along the way....and then there he was. As I stood there observing this tiny, tiny life that had actually lived for such a short time I was silenced by the intricate work of such an almighty God. How, when He is the God of the universe, does he form such a tiny life and take notice of it? That He plans each of us, knows our every inner thought, that He formed us and shaped us before we were born? To try and put something so deeply personal, so amazing and entirely life altering into words seems to cheapen the gift we were given. Words seem to so drastically fail what it is to look at another human's life as it is being created....a life that God used Brad and I to create. How do I ever describe what it is to see our baby, touch our baby still being created? If I had to do all of this all over again for that one moment in time I would. My inadequacies are great as I seek to convey what it was to gaze upon both life and death that night. Yet another part of the Bible that has been read so very many times before but actually leaped from the page and came to life in those moments in time. David wrote it in relation to himself but as I pondered this I realized that not only does it apply to my own self and every living person on earth but it also applies to this baby that was still being formed. It brought more and more comfort as I began to contemplate it specifically in regards to this little tiny life....something so tiny it seemed impossible to have even existed. As I meditated on these verses for some time I began to substitute the word "him" for our baby where the word "you" is used.

"For You did form his inner parts, You did weave him in my womb. I will give thanks to You for he was fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are Your works and my soul knows it very well. His frame was not hidden from You when he was made in secret and skillfully wrought in the depths of the earth. Your eyes have seen his unformed substance and in Your book they were all written. The days that were ordained for him, when as yet there was not one of them." Ps 139:13-16

"Thus says the Lord who made him and formed him from the womb." Is 44:2

When I gazed at life no bigger than a walnut I cannot help but wonder who exactly this God of the universe is and why He cares....why He takes such great interest in something so miraculously tiny as He forms every intricate detail and turns it into the person that our children become....that Brad and I have become. I ponder the personality differences, the minute details of each of their physical attributes, how they all resemble the other yet are so very much their own person with their own identity and then think in terms of the 3 billion people on earth and how He knows them all, so specifically planned them and the exact time and place of each life. How incomprehensibly vast I realized God is as I stood staring at human life the size of a nut. How can one deny the existence of God? How can scientist say that life and this tiny little person just evolved over time? How can one doubt as they hold their baby in their arms for the first time or see the absolute miracle of their children grow? How can anyone say there is no real Creator when you behold the work of God in such an unfathomably tiny, unfinished state? How can one ever live in disbelief? I have seen God....the very hand of Him at work in my own body, the face of Him in the body of such a tiny life, the very presence of Him within my own spirit. How can so called Christians become so apathetic as to even stand in the presence of such an Almighty God? How can people become so insensitive that they no longer even recognize Him when He comes and occupies a place, resides in the very same room they stand in? How does one ever describe what it is to see first hand the work of God as He creates life? How do I ever stand within His presence again?

And This Too Shall Pass

Alright...after thinking it through I came to the realization that that had to be about the most negative, pessimistic, self centered, whiny, gripy post ever. It is definitely no secret I am fed up with this and am just ready to throw in the towel.....a far cry from my generally motivated, highly driven, competitive, mow-the world-down-to-accomplish-the-goal self. But when I have so very much to be grateful for....my very life being one of them.....that post was just a downer. I will say though that it was very much reality and what is taking place. It was raw, unedited emotion and bluntly honest. I just found it kind of ugly that I found so very many things to gripe about. I mean...really. I can't do this forever.....unless of course my body sees fit to calcify the baby within like that woman in the news and then I'd be pregnant for some 78 years or something. So, this all will pass as I have known from the very beginning. It doesn't help my cause that I have never been known in my entire lifetime to be one with any amount of patience at all so this road is particularly trying for me since it is taking f-o-r-e-v-e-r. But, overall, I am still alive and that is a good thing. And on a side note.....there is nothing anybody could've done to prevent this. We have been seeing a midwife and her dr throughout the process and I have been under a dr's care so this is no reflection on doing things naturally. Crap just happens sometimes. We have been told that this is extremely rare to carry a non-living baby this long and no one really knows why my body chose to do it this way. My body just became tired of so much work over such a long period of time and so it just kind of went into overload and things went south pretty quickly. I can't really say that I'd choose to do it again this way but throughout this entire ordeal God has been so faithful and so good. He has not left me, abandoned me or forsaken me in any way....despite the immense amount of griping I have done along the way. He is good all the time. Words so entirely hard to embrace at times but no less true in any way. He is the only one that has gotten me this far and He will carry me to the finish line of this particular race....as He has done so many times before. He has been so gracious to me and loved me so much. He has blessed me with Brad and given him the patience to endure me over these last few months. It is amazing what grief will do to a marriage as we have had some of our best and worst moments throughout the last few months. But even our "worst" moments, though a little too stressful for me, are never that bad. Just a searching for how to better support each other when we are both completely and totally weary and sometimes pretty clueless about what to do for the other. I am forever amazed by his undying love for me and his unending patience with me as he has encouraged and supported me throughout my volatile, explosive, unpredicatible emotions.


So, I've come to the conclusion that maybe my negativity is why I never fare so well in labor. I've never been one to make labor look enticing. Instead of focusing on the awful part almost being over I get stuck in the "I'm so sick of this and I just want to be done mode." My ever patient self kicking in when the going gets tough, I suppose. So, if nothing else I am learning to transition my thinking from "I can't do this...this is never going to be over" to working on just thinking positively about each milestone...like when I go running. Short small goals. The lightpost. The rock in the road. The goat...they make great short goals since they move. Sometimes they walk towards me so I'm forever endeared to them since the goal is reached sooner. And sometimes they crap out and start running away from me so I have to step it up into high gear until I catch up to them so that I have crossed the short goal line. The oak tree. The county road. Then the top of the hill. Instead of just setting out staring defeatedly up at the top of the hill. So, just maybe that change of mind and heart will help get me through my next labor with a baby. Nothing has ever forced me to focus so hard on the positive as the last 4 1/2 months have. And admittedly, I haven't done so well at it. But I suppose that's the point. To walk away from this a much better, bigger, stronger, deeper, spiritually and mentally mature person and to know my Saviour more intimately than I have ever known Him. To know that He is so close that I can reach out and touch Him when I have just reached the end of myself. To know that when it just gets so so hard that I can trust Him implicitly no matter how bad it all seems. Easier said than done....even now. But I am learning. And I am growing.

On a whole different note...I couldn't help but notice through this whole thing that I came out of the hospital blown up like a little.....or big....water balloon. When someone sticks an IV in with a continuous drip for no less than 30 hours you're bound to have some water issues...cause no one in their right mind can possibly pee off that much water as fast as it's dripping in. I never knew one's nose could have water retention but it is entirely possible to have nasal water retention....cause even my nose was swollen when we arrived home. Miraculously though I was still smaller coming home then I was when I went in...except for the nose issue. And it is a very grand thing to finally have a flat stomach again. I honestly just thought I would always look like I'm 8 wks pregnant. I just finally figured that part was due to having had so many pregnancies. Never did I actually dream I was still pregnant.....kind of. But one of the most freeing things about this whole thing has been that since my body has finally seen fit to clean itself out I am now back to a flat stomach. It seems like such a small thing to most but when you're looking for the tiniest things to be positive and thankful for that happened to be one of the bigger ones. So, I have water retention in my nose but my stomach is finally flat.

The little ones return home tomorrow. It's been hard since Ivye's never been away from us overnight. She's rarely ever been left at all. It has been absolutely amazing how clean the house has stayed, how unmessed up the outside is , how little wash there has been and the dishes are pretty much non existent. As amazing as it is to walk in the living room and see it in perfect shape and walk outside and not have one thing messed up it has made me miss them even more. It almost seems more out of place when it's in place then it does when it's all messed up.

As for the 4 at Mother's, they are staying until next Sunday, the 15th. I'll return to Fort Worth to pick them up and spend a few nights to attend the bread class that next Tues that I never made due to the past week's events. It seems like a very long time to live without them but I'm determined to enjoy the time they are absent since it comes so rarely. As empty as it already feels there's actually a ton of stuff I will be able to get accomplished during their absence. So, assuming I start to feel better and the pain subsides I have a whole list of stuff to knock out while my load is light.

Grayson's 52 chicks arrived in the chaos of this past week. They look a bit like black wind-up cotton balls. Grayson and Brad got finished with the new walk-in brooder just before they arrived so it has been much easier to care for this little flock of new arrivals. Grayson's egg business is booming. He has absolutely amazed his buyers and racked up a little fan club as they have slowly discovered that he is the one cleaning the coop, buying the feed, feeding and watering them, collecting the eggs and is responsible for their overall care. He has done exceedingly well about sticking to the plan of 10% tithe, 10% spending and 80% in the bank. He now has a savings account and is working on saving for a truck when he turns 16. Brad and I have discussed with him that if he is diligent we will meet whatever he has in the bank to help with the cash purchase of it. So, he has been highly motivated by that and done really well. And he bought all 52 of these new chicks. The business man himself decided, after educating himself and asking tons of questions, that he has to spend money to make money. So it is that he decided that it was in his best interest to buy the new chicks in order to lay more eggs so that he can now sell at the local farmer's market. The new chicks should start laying in the spring sometime.......assuming they don't all get eaten by the dog. Pretty impressive for an 11 year old.

Evye has been highly motivated by Grayson's achievements so she has decided to attend the bead class with me and start a bread business. We'll see how that one goes since it has a huge potential for depending on my help. But she already has a huge market since Grayson's customers are now asking us to do a beef cow, a milk cow, some Cornish game hens and homemade bread. I guess when it comes right down to it we could be the next local farmer's market if we had the notion. But, we don't have the grassy pasture for a beef or milk cow since our's are pretty much dry, desert, cactus fields and to clear and plow them up at this point is going to be a huge endeavor financially. So, that leaves us with with the option of really doing meat chickens and some bread stuff. We'll see. It's not like I don't have enough to do already. Eventually we'll get our garden planted. It's been on the drawing board for 3 years now. But when it does finally get up and running I'm thinking it'll be enough to feed us and not the rest of the town. So, we'll keep the produce for our own use...if we ever get to the produce point.

Anyway, chick pics to come.

Trudging through the Trenches

It has been a very long 3 days which eventually landed me in the ER over all of this. I am beginning to think there really is no end in sight....but there is......or so I've been told for the 280th time throughout this whole process. In reality I'm probably closer than I have ever been in the last 3 months but the end seems to be ever elusive at this point. And honestly, if you take away the BS and worry over being politically correct, I'll reveal my real heart and say I'm at my wits end...and I'm just not sure I'm ever going to get to the end of this journey. I'm tired. I'm emotionally drained. I'm numb. I'm in a lot of physical pain. And I'm just ready to quit. The most wicked part of this whole thing is that I can't quit. It's like being trapped in some evil carnival ride stuck on turbo speed.

And before I get off on all of the recent events surrounding my own self I must remember to insert the recent happenings of our children. We have a whole host of daily bumps and bruises that they usually sail right through without even a tear shed. In fact, our children really rarely ever cry over physical injuries. And despite how entirely active they all are we rarely ever have any major stuff to deal with. But Gavin was being silly after a bath one night as he and Garrett played. While being silly with a q-tip in his ear he fell onto it and it went through his ear drum. I must say that after being a parent for 11 years that was probably one of the saddest things we've ever watched. There is no fix for ruptured ear drums so he just had to live through it on ear relief drops along with some Motrin and Tylenol. Poor guy. It made for a couple of really LONG nights.



As for my whole ordeal, Tuesday Evye and I loaded up and headed to Fort Worth for an ultrasound to get an update on where I am at this point in the miscarriage. I am now almost 12 weeks into this and doing this naturally is no longer an option, as there is something obviously pretty wrong. I had prepared myself for everything that I might see on the screen except what was revealed. There that morning as Evye waited in the waiting room I stared at the screen in the dimly lit room. On that screen I was met with our perfectly formed, lifeless baby still lying there peacefully within me with no heartbeat. Instead of crying, for I'm quite certain I am cried out at this point, my practical self took over and I busied myself with getting down to the business of this and what it all means for me. My iron level came back at a 5, which is dangerously low at this point despite my best efforts to keep it up with the myriad of different things I am taking, doing and am on at this point. I was told to once again see my dr immediately so that we can deal with this. I was so anemic by this point and my body has been trying so hard to deliver this baby for so long that it was determined that I am at a huge risk of hemorrhaging, and as she put it....a ticking time bomb. They were astounded that I have not had a uterine infection at this point and am still so whole and well....and alive. A uterine infection would probably result in a total hysterectomy due to how short of a time in takes to make a person devastatingly sick and infect everything within the female reproductive system. She noted many times how protected I have been. I was told that a D&C poses a lower risk at this point than continuing to wait it out or trying to induce labor and have the baby naturally, due to my iron count and the high risk of hemorrhaging I face. Pictures were taken of the baby but were not included in the paperwork I was given. I was glad when I first opened the paperwork that night to see what exactly it all said but now that we have past that point I regret that we have no ultrasound pictures of our perfect baby that I carried for so long. I left with instructions to go see my dr immediately. It became a toss up of whether to continue seeing my midwife and physician in Fort Worth or go home and deal with this all from home now. Brad became quite adamant and stated that it was imperative that we be near home and that our life is now in west Texas and no longer in Fort Worth. I cried some more. I don't mind finding a dr here but to do it under such immediate and dire circumstances and entrust everything this involved to them seemed overwhelming to me. But once again I knew that the Lord speaks loudly through my husband and it was in my best interest to just trust and submit...not an easy thing for me to ever do. So, still in a lot of physical pain, I cramped all afternoon and evening, dealt with all of the female end of it that goes along with it all and we packed up and headed home...skipping out on the bread class I was supposed to attend that night. I felt I had done pretty well all day emotionally but as Evye drifted off to sleep and the road hummed underneath spinning tires the anger, the sadness, the depression and all of the disappointment of the last 4 months of our life set in.

With cruise control set on 69 with a speed limit of 70 I had no doubt the miles would fade away with the hours. At one point a trooper entered the interstate beside me. Already in the passing lane and having sped up to 74 to pass the car I just passed him too.....never once even entertaining the thought it would result in anything. Almost instantly obnoxious red and blue lights blinded me as the trooper fell in behind me. At this point I just seethed. I was so irate that tears never even really threatened to come. I was in no mood to even look at him, not to mention speak to him. I have never once driven away from a trooper without a ticket and I knew this would be no different. It never seems to matter that Brad is a firefighter and a fellow brother in the public service world....so I didn't even bother telling the cop. Who cared, anyway. He approached and told me I was going a whopping 4 miles over the speed limit and had a license plate light out so that my plate was unclear in the dark. Yippee. I had no desire to tell him it was Brad's truck or anything else about my life. He asked where I was going, where I had come from and what I was there for. I just stated bluntly and emotionlessly, "a sonogram" at the last question. When he walked away to run the tags I finally did cry....again, for the 281st day in a row. Hearing his footsteps I quickly composed myself, wiped tears away and concealed all emotions. I have major issues with women who cry to get out of tickets. I just think it's manipulative BS, honestly. I looked down in his hand to receive my ticket as he spoke, "I'm just going to give you a warning tonight. Slow down your speed and get that light fixed." I would've liked to have thought it was due to my amazingly good looks but that's entirely laughable and, in all reality, it came down to only being FOUR whole miles over the speed limit. But at this moment as he informed me it was just a warning it seemed to break through my anger at life and I began to cry....and cry....and cry. I was sobbing so hard that he stood at the window of the truck completely and totally bewildered. He asked in all cluelessness but total sincerity, "Are you ok????" Eventually I nodded my head but was crying too hard to really answer. More silence on his part....then, "Are you sure?????" All I could really do was wave the warning slip of paper in the air and say in between sobs, "Thank you. For this." He laughed outloud then. To say that I felt entirely stupid doesn't even come close to conveying how absolutely mortified I felt....but even those feeling couldn't stop the torrent of tears. After some time of him standing at the truck door as I cried I finally started to calm down. He eventually tried to console me a little and tell me that I'd just better sit here awhile and get a grip cause I still had a long way to go before I reached home. Again, I just nodded. He assured me that all I had to do was go to Lowe's or Home Depot, grab a salesman that knew where the plate lights were and it was a quick, cheap fix. He obviously seemed to think I was undone due to my light being out, which made it even worse on my part. I never said anything though. He asked once more if I'd be ok and I finally verbally assured him...albeit, not too convincingly.....that I would be fine. He continued to stand there and finally said something about the deer being thick and to watch out for them too. Once more, I just nodded and finally managed a little laugh...as it was fairly obvious given the shredded up carnage that had gone on for many miles along the interstate and would only get worse as we exited off to wind our way through the deserted hills that lead home. Once the sobs subsided a little and I was just down to streaming tears he finally gave me a comforting wink and tapped the inside of the truck door lightly saying, "You have a better night, alright?" So I sat for another 5 or so minutes trying to regain my composure from all of the day's events and pulled back out onto the road. He followed me to our exit and then let us go on our way. Emotionally fragile and hormonally imbalanced don't seem to even come close to my psychotic behaviour at this point. To say that I am tired at this stage of the game is an understatement in every sense of the word. And that poor cop had to endure some of the explosive content that lies buried within. I actually kind of just thought I was cried out by now....but apparently, I'm not. I didn't feel like telling him about Aubrey. I didn't feel like telling him that I miscarried our baby. I didn't feel like telling him I am still pregnant with a dead baby. I didn't feel like telling him I am still cramping for the 3rd month in a row and still in pain. So, I didn't tell him anything....and he, to this day, has no clue what in the world was wrong with the psycho woman he stopped that night. Oh well.

Wednesday morning we awoke with Gavin's ear potentially infected and many decisions to make concerning where to go from here about my predicament. While Brad took Gavin into town to survey the damage in his ear I began figuring out where to go from here. I called the office of a dr that had been recommended to us by a few people. After explaining where I am and what is taking place she basically reinstated everything I had been told the day before. My chance of hemorrhaging at this point was so high that I am ..once again.....a "ticking time bomb". She said it sounded as though everything within was trying to detach and and I would not survive the 32 mile trip from our home to the hospital and the helicopter could not be here in time to do anything. They refused to even see me in the office for an appt and told me to go straight to the ER. Given what had taken place the night before and the amount of bleeding...sorry for the TMI for all of the male readers......she said I was a walking miracle and to head straight in and she would notify the dr on call that I was coming. So, I did what I seem to do best these days and hung up and cried some more. We made some quick arrangements for the children and in a daze Brad and I headed for the hospital. Another ultrasound revealed that I had passed the baby sometime Tuesday night in all of my pain in Fort Worth and on the way home. So, somehow in all of the mess our baby was flushed down the toilet into the Fort Worth sewer system. It just seemed to be more to this never ending sadness. But, for once, I actually didn't cry. With talk of an immediate D&C and many many dr's, nurses, techs and people later they decided that since so much had occurred in 24 hours after so many months of carrying this baby that they would admit me and watch me overnight to see what my body was capable of. Can this just be over yet????

I was settled into a room and visited by my new dr. Brad and I both told her of our desire to avoid a D&C if possible but really were at a point we wanted to get this over with for my health. She asked if we wanted more children to which we replied that we do so she said she would do everything she could to keep me out of the OR since the potential scar tissue of a D&C poses a risk to our future fertility. At this point I'm just wanting to be done with this already. The next morning yet another ultrasound was performed to see how much progress I had made. It revealed that I am still not yet done with this but have so very little to go. After being on Demoral for hours and it having spurred a migraine I reached the end of myself. I was continually told that they could give me nothing but MORE Demoral to kill it off only for it to come back bigger and stronger. Everyone seemed to be waiting on everybody else to give orders for a pain killer for a headache. Brad snuck in Tylenol but nothing really phased it by that stage of the game. When the dr finally appeared after hours and hours I could hardly roll over and focus on anything. They had not let me eat anything since an emergency D&C was continually in the picture. So, in 48 hours I had eaten one meal. She informed me that everything was back under control and she felt sure I could finish this on my own. She stated that to do a D&C now would be the equivalent of giving an epidural at 10 centimeters. She felt confident that I would now do fine with a mild stimulant to help my body finish the job and keep me out of the OR. In all consuming headache pain I started to cry and tell her I just wanted this all to be over and I wanted the D&C. She said she wanted to honor our desire to avoid it if we could and that we had come so very far. I told her I had changed my mind and just wanted this to all go away. She tried to be comforting and assure me that my body has done an amazing job, I had miraculously not hemorrhaged and it had shown an amazing ability to do this job....despite the fact it has taken almost 12 weeks. Eventually Brad came back into the room and I cried all over again. When he asked what was wrong all I could manage was weakly crying, "I have a headache." I did eventually tell him the news. He assured me that he has prayed so long and hard for me and that he trusted God to work through the dr's He had placed over me. He wanted me just to trust. He felt God was working despite how very tired I am with this whole thing. With the IV finally taken out and release papers signed I walked out with three prescriptions in hand..one of them to specifically bring on yet more pain.....and the promise this should all be over with "in a week or two". Awww....the ever elusive "week or two". Those same two weeks that never seem to come.

So, here I sit with 4 of the children in Fort Worth with Mother, three with Brad's mom and Evye at home for house and animal help. In pain....again...but this time with the promise of "a week or two". The same promise that I was given almost 12 weeks ago now. I have a follow up appt in 2 weeks with yet another ultrasound to see if anything remains of the pregnancy. If so, I will then definitely be admitted for a D&C.

In all, I am thankful. I am thankful for the dr we were given and that God has worked through her when I was just so ready to give up. We are so close to the end...maybe. I am thankful that my life has been spared when no one was even aware of how dire the circumstances really were. I am thankful to finally have some answers. I am thankful to be OUT of the hospital. There are many many things to be thankful for throughout this whole ordeal. So, as I am confined to my bed both today and all day tomorrow I will put pencil in hand and pull out my piece of wrinkled up, creased, colored on paper of thankfulness and begin to write. I am tired. I am pretty much done and at the end of my rope with life. But I am alive. I am breathing. And I am still the wife of Brad and the mother of 8 beautiful children.

Honestly, I don't think the meds are working. Everything it is supposed to be doing it isn't except causing intense pain. So, just pray. Pray for this all to be over. I'm tired. BUT.....I haven't cried today. So, we've GOT to be making progress.