Picture Imperfect

So we all decided we were in love with Grant in this picture. I think the look on his face compliments his black eye fairly well.

As of this moment there are a thousand other things I should be doing. But, for whatever reason, the urge hit and I no longer find anything clean enough......so I've scrubbed floors and the bases of toilets all day long....along with reorganizing every cabinet and changing the sheets on every bed in the house. So, in an effort to relieve the aching feet, sore knees and butt I am procrastinating as I sit and wait for the dinner hour to pass...as if maybe in some far away land the hour will altogether go away and my children won't notice. As of yet that has yet to happen in life and the children start asking for food 2 hours before it's ever supposed to arrive. I think we've pretty well already established that I'm not so great at the whole fixing a meal thing so, having prepared ahead like I usually do, I've decided premade frozen waffles are on the dinner menu. Meaning, I can sit here for another 30 minutes before I must actually do something else. Due to it being a city council night and Brad going straight from work to being Mr. upstanding citizen of the town we can actually get away with meals such as frozen waffles on a fairly regular basis. I have no room for complaints though seeing as how he is perfectly happy with the frozen waffle agenda as are each of the children each and every time I do this......which, dare I say, is often.




Yesterday was Santa day at the station so the children and I gravitated up there to meet Brad and hang out for awhile. We set off for the park after Santa made his departure. I figured as long as they were all presentable we'd go and see what pics we could do ourselves. I never did get around to getting everybody matching clothes this year so they just coordinated......kind of. Since Evye puked in the middle of the station floor last year when we did Santa I suppose it was only fitting for Garrett to run fever all day this year. We haven't had anybody sick since returning home from vacation with the swine flu so this came out of nowhere and has seemed to affect no one but him for now. So, he's looking rather thrilled while trying to do Christmas pics with a fever.

Having rock climbing competitions after the pics were done

Hangin' out



Pretty Aubrey-girl

If her back was straight it would've been pretty perfect


How can anyone not love them????

Her profile looks exactly like my profile!

....it must be so great to be a boy


Looking just like Evye's profile! Grayson playing with the camera. Some of the pictures that turn up on our camera are entirely interesting....this happened to be one of them. I didn't think it was too bad though...despite the fact there's no real smile.

An all girl shot

Rock climbing some more

......so the boys all fit

.....and the girls all fit

....but not everybody fit. Trying for 5 entire minutes to get everybody on. We managed to a couple of years ago but it just wasn't happening this year....as is comically obvious. Gavin freaked out and fell off so this is what we ended up with. He had been in front of Garrett but what you can't see is him now laying on the ground beneath the feet of the sheep. I think it's official that we've graduated up to wienie dog or hippo sized animals.

Animals we found on vacation in Sept that will actually accommodate everybody. We safely have room for about 10 more kids on this one.

I found this hippo to be perfectly sized. Actually, I'm thinking we can fit 1 or 2 more.

Evye's pretty done by this point, Gavin's lost interest and Garrett just wants his bed. But it was about the one and only shot where Ivye was actually looking!

Cooperation at its finest

The boys

Playing around while the van fills up...which takes at least 10 minutes.

The girls

More gas pics

And still more. The inevitable way to crack everybody up when we're all tired of waiting.

The joy of little boy feet

Finally enough hair to have 2!!!!

Still trying for the ever elusive shot where everybody's actually facing the same direction....it never did happen. But we managed to have some fun seeing what we could get.

My sweet boy

Here we go again with Grant

The Transparent Heart

Peppermint coffee steaming white swirls into the air, cold hands clasped against cup for early morning warmth, house still breathing quietly with sleeping children, husband already absent for the next 24 hours. I stand staring out the glass door watching the dark eastern sky for the first shades of daybreak silently pondering my own dark thoughts. Thick unruly waves of unbrushed hair fall all around me and I am again reminded that I need to begin my morning routine before children begin it for me. But I linger just a little more unable to turn away from my procession of thoughts. How scarily and powerfully evil one's own thoughts can be....how deceitful the heart. Why is it that I wrestle with the flesh so violently at times?

In an effort to remain transparent and real I open myself up and reveal the still raw wounds beginning to heal. As the turmoil of the last 5 months of our life is seeming to draw to a close I am beginning to see that the road to healing and growth is significantly longer. For in the midst of the lingering hurt the inner heart is exposed. As shades of pink begin to spread softly across the horizon my burdened heart finally admits that I am painfully weak in many areas and my ability to fall is great. But is it not in my weakness that I am made strongest....the ability for God to prove Himself to even greater depths within my own fallible humanness? So I wrestle.

I wrestle with blaming God for all that has taken place despite the fact I know deeply within both head and heart that He is at work in our lives, doing great and mighty things. I wrestle with hours and even days of intermittent envy of those that are still carrying their babies....now almost 30 weeks into their pregnancies....as our tiny boy lies frozen in time beneath a red oak tree selflessly bought by Grayson with his own money and lovingly planted by Brad seeking to help heal some of my own pain. I wrestle with long lived moments of anger as I watch others encounter a trouble in their pregnancy, watch people unite in prayer and then watch as all is resolved and both mom and baby continue on in good health and I angrily wonder why it couldn't have been me. I wrestle with the truth that I actually entertain the thoughts of wishing something bad would happen to those blessed families and that there would be a loss so that they could somehow understand the hurt...contradictions of my own heart confounding the mind. How on earth could I ever wish this agony on someone else???? How can I be so evil? I wickedly wrestle with actually hoping hurt would come to others foolishly thinking it would lessen my own inner pain somehow. The flashes of anger as I struggle with what seems in my human mind to be total unfairness that we have had to walk this road. Stark contradictions as I seek to give wholly of myself and allow the pain of the offering yet wickedly turn around and see the evilness within my own heart. Thoughts swinging like a pendulum from one extreme to the other as I drop to my knees and beg that no one would ever know this agony and guilt I know yet the very next moment wishing that every person had to endure such pain and that life would be fair. How on earth can my heart be so cruel? How is it that I can even be heard by a God that inclines His ear to me...that would even want to care for me? I wrestle with my own guilt........guilt of my own thoughts, my own actions, where my mind wanders, where I allow my mind to wander....... continually giving it back over to the Lord, my Salvation and my Forgiver. I wrestle with "loving the enemy" and not entertaining thoughts and ideas of how to make life more miserable than they have ever known or wishing death upon a boy that is merely 3 years older than our oldest child. I wrestle with the weakness that was left from years of rejection by men as my vain heart seeks to bask in any and all male attention that does come....ugly girl of long ago still pining for mortal, short lived beauty of youth. So it is that I wrestle with my wretched, deceitful heart.


Rising winter sun climbs gracefully over the hills and cloudless sky becomes a momentary canvas for God's greatest artwork. Relentless unforgiving thoughts take me back to a day that seems to forever live on within my mind. In the agony and all of the pain of the events surrounding Aubrey I discovered the existence of our baby. Weeks later as Brad and I sought to deal with it all both physically and emotionally I made the statement to a dear, sweet friend that if God took this baby I would not be able to go on.....that it was more than any heart could bear to be required to overcome both the loss of an adoption and the devastation of what took place with Aubrey only to be pushed overboard by the loss of a baby. Little did I know that it would forever haunt me as the "Titanic statement" of my own life. "Not even God could sink this ship" seemed to have brought out the wrath of God and sink the unsinkable. So it seemed that my own statement of inability to go on taunted Him to prove to my own doubting heart that I am indeed capable of much more than I consider possible. For the millionth time in a matter of mere months I begin to wonder if I asked for this miscarriage. Did I bring this upon myself by that statement? Did I evoke God's wrath? Did I hurt the baby as I sought to dull my own pain? Round and round my tumultuous thoughts go as the mind games continue relentlessly on. I know the truth. I do know the truth. And I know it will set me free. Why I continue to fight these inner battles that wage war within is still a mystery. It is over. I did survive. We survived as a couple. We survived as a family. So why does my mind dwell on what is now behind us? I know in my head and heart what is taking place and that we are being transformed into so much more than I can imagine so why do I wrestle so violently with the flesh?

Coffee growing cold in hand, guilt seeks to pervade and overshadow the new day. The same guilt that paralyzes and chains the heart when I think about that summer night that forever altered how I see life. Did I lose this baby because I failed her and cannot be trusted with more.....because I made an insane but heartfelt statement......because I cuss too much....because I cuss to begin with....because I don't wear skirts all the time and think I should receive a Martha Stewart award when I manage to fix a complete meal once every 6 months? Roosters crow, bare gray trees reach heavenward, leaves dance playfully down dirt road and I mull over what I already know. These are all works. If I had done all of these things right it wouldn't have earned me another baby....or the life of this one. It wouldn't have saved her or rescued her from her living nightmare. It wouldn't have even earned me into heaven because I am not working my way there. My place is secure...bought and paid for by the blood of Jesus Christ....my name written and kept there when I chose to accept that which He so freely offered to me. I know beyond everything in life that I will not ever enter into heaven by works but by the sheer saving grace of God who loves me more than anything I can ever imagine. Who cares so passionately for me that He did not punish me with these things but has used them to shape me into who it is He can use and to reflect His image a little clearer than before. So for the millionth time in the last 5 months I lay my guilt down at the foot of His robe and I reach out to touch Him. I hand over the pain of loss. I lay down the weakness of my vain, attention seeking heart. I lay down the anger and the frustration, the wicked, evil thoughts. I lay it all down on a level few people will ever know....on a level few people will ever allow themselves to know. It is by the grace of God that I am saved, that I am forgiven, that I am rescued from my own wretched self.

It is because of the grace and mercy of a loving God that we will go on to be blessed with many more children...both biologically and eventually adopted...despite Brad's and my shortcomings on every level. It is because of His grace and mercy living within us that He is using us to raise up mighty warriors that will not shy away or be afraid to fight for Truth and all that His kingdom is. It is because of His grace and mercy that neither Brad nor I have to earn more children and that He will continue to bless us with more.

With morning mind games somewhat stilled peace comes to rest gently upon my sensitive heart. I know all too well that it will be one of those days that will require me laying my weaknesses at His feet over and again. Little boy arms wrap tightly around my leg, risen sun transforming red head to fiery orange, soft sweet morning voice murmuring, "Mama, I love you." I look down into innocent sky blue eyes and am met with a sleepy smile. The day begins.

Winter Wonderland

We awoke to a wintry wonderland earlier in the week. It took a mere 24 hrs for it all to melt off but the snowman lived for 4 entire days before the "warmer" weather started to take its toll on him. The children lovingly kicked, beat and mauled him to death once the temps started affecting his height, reducing him from Gavin size to Ivye size. It hasn't snowed here since the very first year we moved. Snow, especially this much of it, is a rare novelty in west Texas....or anywhere in Texas for that matter....so everyone was entirely rowdy. Being that we live in a southern state that sees snow only once every 10 years any kind of clothing appropriate for the weather is near non existent. Therefore you can take note of the short sleeved, barefooted children out running around in it. Despite my disdain for being outside in painfully cold, bone chilling, paralyzing weather even I could not resist the allure of the powdery white stuff. It became quite the family affair of watching the snowman come to life. Even Ivye-girl fell in love despite the fact she couldn't exactly take off and play in it like she was so longing to do. Her foot remains bandaged in her soft, tiny little foot wrap so shoes aren't really happening at this point since her foot doesn't exactly slide into one.

The only man in the world that would lovingly teach his children to mold and shape a snowman with a machete

Loving the barefeet.....

Coming to life

The finished product was taller than Gavin

Poppy....our snow leopard

The novelty of figuring out both dogs devour snow

Evye's snow angel

Our thumb sucking baby with her wrapped up foot staying warm in the house

Still on the run...she doesn't seem to care that some of her toe is missing

Still getting into just as much stuff as she did before....her unbridled hair is all the more to love

When Morning Finally Comes

".....weeping may last for the night but joy comes in the morning. You have turned for me my mourning into dancing. You did it. You changed wild lament into whirling dance. You ripped off my black mourning band and have decked me with wildflowers. I am bursting with song, I can't keep quiet about You. God, my God, I can't keep quiet about you. " Ps 30:5, 11 (The Message)

After months and months and months of this ongoing process I finally no longer tested positive. Despite the fact the lab work came back 2 weeks ago declaring my hcg levels were so low that I was no longer considered pregnant I still had enough left to test positive following the lab work. I was supposed to have my follow up apt this morning but there was nothing they were going to be able to do. My lab work is already completely normal...as discovered 2 weeks ago.....and the sonogram was canceled due to it. So, basically it was going to be something like sitting there filling her in on the latest and her saying that this process is done and we are free to allow another pregnancy to take place....not that we ever hindered it to begin with. This whole thing has finally ended after a full 14 weeks from the onset of it......somewhere around 17-18 weeks after we lost the baby. I certainly never considered being so absolutely elated over a negative pregnancy test but I am. I canceled my appt since I saw absolutely no use in going and instead just took yet another pregnancy test to see what came of it. For the first time since the pregnancy began it came back negative. My heart leaped with joy and for the first time in months I feel absolutely weightless.

Coming out of this has been a bit like a 2nd honeymoon for Brad and I. There is a new depth that I could never have imagined between the 2 of us but there is also such freedom in feeling normal again. My moods are no longer all over the place wreaking havoc and leaving everyone with whiplash. There is a new understanding, appreciation and all encompassing love for how he has loved me so unconditionally throughout all of this. Every night has become a bit of a celebration as we bundle up under mounds of covers and rediscover what seems to have been lost for the last 14 weeks of our marriage. There is a peace and it feels so good to finally be on this side of it. I feared that once this was all over that I would look back and be filled with embarrassment over my lack of patience and how short the time span actually was in the overall span of life but, as of now, those feelings have yet to surface. Though it was a mere 14 weeks from start to finish it was absolutely the worst, most tear filled, hormonal, long lived 3 1/2 months to have ever endured. Of course, it did not help that we were still trying to survive the events that occurred only a few weeks before this miscarriage took place between the adoption and everything else that transpired.

But.....I am free and I feel like I can fly again. To be such an optimistic person I found that it was not so pleasant to discover what it is to be a pessimist and suffer through such huge bouts of depression. My heart does once again sing and there is abounding joy. According to the research I have done and the dear dr confirming it, it is entirely possible to become pregnant yet again in only 2 short weeks. Though the prospect of that is entirely thrilling and would fill the ache that now exists after the loss of our tiny boy I can honestly say I am fully content to just sit and be still. I have absolutely no doubt I would be ecstatic if a little 2nd line were to appear on a test tomorrow but if it does not I am at total peace. I really honestly never thought I'd ever get to that point but it feels good to finally feel normal and just rest in the peace of the Lord. It feels good to be skinny again and finally have no raging hormones or emotional instability going on....to know that I am appealing, sexy and once again fun to my husband and not the continual emotional drain I felt that I was for so many weeks.....to know that I can bring him the same joy that he is to me each and every day, that I can give him 100% of myself. Well.....I think it's safe to say he's gotten a full 100% of me over the last little while....a little more than I'm sure he ever bargained for when we married. For better or for worse has more depth than ever existed before. But I guess it's just a matter of feeling like I can give him all of me in every way again.

So, it feels good to just sit for a little while in the present moment. I don't want to think about the past or worry about the future. I am just content in the now. I know, despite how many hundreds of times a day I will give it over to the Lord, that I will worry through the first half of the next pregnancy. And right now it just feels good not to be consumed with worry and such immense sorrow. So, I embrace the peace and the joy that have come with the present. I know that if a test does indeed reveal that we have been exceedingly blessed again in only a few short weeks that we will both rejoice in that and be elated over another new baby being so intricately formed and fashioned within....but I also know that if it does take quite some time for the reproductive system to start performing again that I will be at peace with it. I suppose in 3 or so months if I am not pregnant again by then that we will once again make a trip back to the dr to make sure everything is back in working order. But, for now, I rest contentedly in the fact that the 14 week miscarriage is finally over and that God is still good and that He is faithful....that He does deliver those He loves.

I also find it amazing that my body did this completely on its own with no intervention. We did have an overnight hospital stay but even while in the midst of that the only thing given was pain meds to help ease the intensity of what was taking place. The prescription of methergen I was given did absolutely nothing. I am quite amazed at how miraculously God has made the human body and how He has created it with the ability to do everything that needs to be done. I have no doubt He has blessed us with the medical profession to help and heal the things that our bodies would not otherwise do but in this case He has proven to me that He has created my body to carry out every function that a woman's body should. To look back and say we did this completely naturally is a bit like the feeling that comes from having a natural birth with no interventions. God has covered us and protected us....and showed us great and mighty things about Himself throughout our entire ordeal through this. He has been gracious and I am so thankful for His enduring love.....even in the darkest days.

God is indeed good all the time. I am free.

Ten Little Piggies

Note to the public - this post has been edited since obliviate has never been and is no where near being a word. Though I attemped to make it one it does not mean it will ever become one now or in the near future. As I lay in bed tonight I realized that the word that evaded me so long is indeed obliterate....not obliviate. I just like to appear educated most of the time. My brain migrated south for the winter about 8 children ago....and never saw fit to come back.

climbing up a vine

one fell off

and then there were nine.

In our case it'd go something like this....

Ten little piggies growing on a foot

....one got smashed off.....

and then there were 9.

So I couldn't exactly think of anything rhyming in nature but that's about the extent of it. Sometimes life can't seem to get any more chaotic than it is. In fact, the events of the past few months have come so fast and furious that there comes a point when one just has to sit back and laugh. Seriously, who in the crap has this much transpire in a 4 month period of time???? It was such a freak accident that I am quite certain I told the story to the ER staff no less than 104 times as they sat there a bit stumped trying to piece the events together.

Last night as I was putting Ivye to bed I stopped to help Grayson with a stubborn pantry box that didn't want to fit back into the cabinet. Having been on the way to her bed she was in my arms. I placed her on the floor beside me while I wrangled with the belligerent box. Something was caught in the back of the cabinet so I began moving stuff around which knocked the commercial size, unopened waffle syrup bottle out of the cabinet. With her standing by my side it fell precisely on her pinky toe. It took a moment for the screams to fill the house and as I lifted the bottle off the top of her foot it was quite clear at that moment that her teeny, tiny baby toe was pretty much severed in half. I actually am becoming quite good and efficient at handling trauma so I whisked her up and placed her on the kitchen counter top.......leaving a trail of blood in our wake. I barked orders for Grayson to get me a phone, Evye to get me a towel and for Aubrey to begin putting coats and shoes on the little ones. Evye began to cry, successfully setting off a few others as well. Brad had been on a transfer to Dallas all day and was still far from home. With cell reception being less than wonderful it took more than a few tries for the call to finally go through. I tried to calmly explain to him what happened and what shape her toe was in....but it took everything in me to even look at it to assess the damage. It was decided that we would meet him in one of the nearby towns he would be passing through on his way back to town so that he could have a look and decide what it needed and if the ER could be avoided. Standing there looking at it I knew it would have to be sewn back on but was still entirely hopeful he would say I was making a much bigger event out of it than it was and he could just glue it back on with some Dermabond or something of the sort. With shoes and coats on and everybody bundled Grayson was given instructions to start the van and get it warmed up. Minutes later he was back in stating that it wouldn't start. I assumed the engine block was just cold and figured I'd mess with it as soon as I was ready to go. I ran out only to discover that there was no convincing it to start. Another call to Brad, several bitterly cold, rainy trips out to the pasture sinking in mud to bring in extension cords to plug the engine block in, several attempts to see if we could get it warmed....but nothing. By this time Ivye was completely happy, chirping and playing and the bleeding had slowed. It was coming through the towel wrapped around her foot but it was safe to say that she was not in any danger of bleeding to death.....or even remotely close to it. I became very very hopeful at this point that nothing major was needed. I finally had to acknowledge that there was no hope of the van ever starting so it was decided that Brad would stop by the house on his way back into town. About an hour after her little injury occurred hero husband turns into the driveway with big red and blue lights flashing, showing off for his house full of rescue loving, adrenaline pumped little boys. Little boys raced to the ambulance to welcome him home and talk loudly of his mode of transportation. I was quite certain by the end of it that every citizen of our entire tiny town had heard of his arrival by the time he made it into the house. He peeled back the towel and the sight of her toe turned my stomach. He confirmed that it definitely needed to be seen....as it was just barely hanging on.

A call was made to our dearly loved and trusted babysitter and she was on her way. With Ivye in tow Brad and I loaded up on the medic with both the nurse and other paramedic that had been on the transfer and we were on our way....to the ER for the 2nd time in less than a month. Though he was far from mad, heroic, on the job husband wasn't quite in the jolliest of moods either. He dropped us off at the ER and left to finish his transfer duties such as filling the medic back up, handwashing it and all of the other odds and ends that go with the job. It only took a couple of minutes ....I LOVE living in a small town.....to get her back to triage. Once there they did the usual of wrapping her arm in a tiny blood pressure cuff, taking temps and all of stuff they do. Being the tiny fireball that she is she was quite the one man party and was having the time of her life with everyone doting on her. As they finally got around to looking at her toe and asking for the story the beginning of the disbelief began. I attempted to explain and re-explain as nurses just sat trying to conceive that a syrup bottle has enough power as to obliterate a baby's toe. They proceeded calling in other nurses to look and hear the apparently amusing story for themselves. I don't think they ever understood that the size of the syrup we buy is like their syrup bottle on steroids and obviously completely capable of taking off a baby's toe.

Once told that this was not an urgent care issue and indeed had to be seen in the ER we were taken back to a room with little to nothing to keep one occupied....except for maybe playing with the vomit tray, sucking on tongue depressers and popping cotton balls like popcorn. She did find it entirely amusing to toss the pink little kidney shaped trays across the room and hear them hit the floor over and again. I did manage to catch a little of the Duggar's show on TLC and it wasn't nearly as traumatizing as I thought it would be to see fertility goddess woman walking around largely pregnant and as far along as I should be. Maybe I was just that desperate for some sort of something to keep me occupied. Injured baby wasn't quite feeling so injured by this point and was becoming quite the mascot of the ER so we had many visitors stopping by to chat and play in the midst of it all. X-rays were taken to assess bone status and to get an idea of how crushed her toe really was. Laid back and kindhearted dr finally made his way in and assessed it once again. Bone was still completely intact due to her tiny little bones being a bit like a green tree limb.....very bendable and quite pliable. But nope.....there was no gluing that could be done and yes....it was going to require a complete circle of stitches around her toe to reattach it. Fun.

Dr disappeared again to locate helpful nurse and bring back the needed supplies. With on duty husband still absent I was beginning to worry, fearing that I would have to go this alone. Backboard, complete with pediatric straightjacket included, appeared in the dr's hand as he made his grand re-entrance. We laid her down and velcroed her in...much to her utter amusement. She seemed to think this entire night was nothing but a fun little late night jaunt to Wal Mart. By this time she is laughing and putting on a merry little show for anyone who dared come pay her any attention at all. The lidocaine shot was fairly unpleasant for both her and everyone else within the ER that had even minimal hearing ability. Once that was over she bounced back to talking and observing what was taking place. Somewhere in there good dr announced that there was no possible way to reattach her toe given the tiny size of it and how badly it was severed. The decision was made to cut it off. That was about the only time during the whole event that I feared passing out completely. How does one just entirely cut a baby's toe off???? Finally off duty husband appeared in street clothes and the relief I felt was unrivaled. He seemed to know every dr and nurse present so the night began to grow continually better. The dr was quite certain given her age and the resiliency of children that her now partial toe will grow completely back as if nothing had ever occurred. So it was that he removed the little that was left of the end of her toe and bandaged it up. We were given instructions to clean 3 times daily and re wrap it each and every time.....and keep her off her feet for 3 days. I laughed at that one. This is the 12 month old baby that has already been walking for 2 months and who no longer walks but runs everywhere she goes. I had unpleasant visions of an exersaucer and 8 hrs a day worth of Baby Einstein. Lovely.

So it is that her tiny little foot is in a soft cast of bandages and gauze and will be for the next week or so....with promises that her tiny little toe will indeed grow itself back. The dr did state that in the event that it does not grow back it still could've been so much worse. It is merely a cosmetic issue that will have no lasting effects or any debilitating long lasting injury affecting physical abilities.

After grabbing a bite to eat we eventually made our way back home. Seven eager siblings met us at the door to check out the new white bandage she was sporting. Brad was now unexpectedly home for the night so we bedded everyone back down and the two of us made a party out of it. We sat up talking and laughing in relief and scrounging around for any amount of sugar we could find to satisfy the late night sweet tooth.

After it all..........the van started this morning.

Sometimes the attacks are so obvious and blatant that one just can't help but laugh. We are still alive and well and no one is any worse for the wear.....except for one select little family member missing 1/2 a toe or so.