Blessings?

A couple months ago, Brent and I were talking about blessings, or, more specifically, how we say that we are blessed when something good happens or when something goes our way.

I had been thinking...and mentioned to Brent, that if that is the case, if we say that God is faithful, that he has blessed us, when good things happen or when we barely miss being in a wreck or when someone we love is healed, what does that mean for someone that didn't have those same things happen?

Does that mean that God didn't bless my friend whose baby died? Did he choose not to bless my friend whose husband was unfaithful and left her, then took custody of their children and who then found out she had cancer? Did he decide not to bless the woman whose husband died of cancer and who was left to raise two young children on her own? And if he didn't, why didn't he?

And if I say that I have been blessed with the good things that happen or the bad things that are avoided, what does that say to the person who is enduring hardship or tragedy? What does it say to the person who didn't have that good thing happen in their life? Am I being sensitive to their needs and feelings? Am I, in essence, rubbing their face in their lack of blessing?

How is this seeming randomness of blessings possible with a just and loving God?

Yes, I know, we live in a world that is fallen, that is affected by sin, in which people choose to ignore God and choose to hurt others...but I still struggle with this whole idea of blessing. I cannot understand how God chooses, even, or maybe especially, among people who are faithful, who to bless and who not to bless on earth. I have been completely unable to wrap my mind around this concept. Something is just not right to my way of thinking. Am I missing something? Or do I just not understand God? (Of course the answer is that I don't understand God, no one does, but what I guess what I mean is really "Is what understanding that I do have of God actually that flawed?")

These are things that I have been wrestling with in my mind for a while.

Then about a month ago, I read this blog post, by a woman whose husband suddenly died while she was pregnant with their 3rd child, with a link to Laura Story's song called "Blessings" in it. Then I heard the song on the radio last week. Then last Sunday, in Bible class, our preacher referred to someone commenting that God is faithful after his wife was unharmed during a terrible storm in which many lost their lives. And he mentioned that he wonders what that says to all the people who lost their loved ones. And that made me think about the whole blessings disconnect again. Then I saw a link to the same song on another blog. And now I have been hearing the song nearly every time I get in the car. It's like this song is knocking at my heart to tell me something. Or maybe God is using it to try to teach me something.


Lyrics:
We pray for blessings
We pray for peace
Comfort for family, protection while we sleep
We pray for healing, for prosperity
We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering
All the while, You hear each spoken need
Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things

‘Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise

We pray for wisdom
Your voice to hear
And we cry in anger when we cannot feel You near
We doubt Your goodness, we doubt Your love
As if every promise from Your Word is not enough
All the while, You hear each desperate plea
And long that we'd have faith to believe

‘Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
And what if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise

When friends betray us
When darkness seems to win
We know the pain reminds this heart
That this is not, this is not our home,
It's not our home

‘Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
And what if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near

What if my greatest disappointments
Or the aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can’t satisfy
And what if trials of this life
The rain, the storms, the hardest nights
Are Your mercies in disguise


So I read the lyrics again. And after I listened to the song again, I listened to a couple of videos in which the singer/writer is talking about where the song comes from and what it means.

Talking about the song


Talking about the album


And I wrote down this statement that Laura made. "Are we going to judge God based on our circumstances that we don't understand, or are we going to choose to judge our circumstances based on what we hold to be true about God?" Wow. That most definitely takes some thinking about.

Then I also saw a different blog post, with a link to a speaker, Francis Chan, speaking on a completely different topic, but also saying some of the same sort of things about our not understanding God...that we don't have all the answers. That maybe God knows something that we don't. It gave me even more to think about.


And I have begun to wonder...maybe the blessings are not the things we have, the circumstances that surround us, the requests that are granted, but maybe the blessing is simply being God's child and having him love and comfort us. Maybe it is his faithfulness in never leaving us, and always remaining where we can return to him no matter how often we walk away and no matter how long we are gone from him. Or maybe it is a little of everything. I have a feeling that I will be continuing to ponder this for some time to come.

Saying Goodbye

I've known for a while that Cori's time on earth would be coming to an end before too terribly much longer, and I tried to be mentally prepared for that to happen. But I don't think there is any way that you can really be ready for the loss.

Two weeks ago, she was doing great for a 16 year old dog. You would never guess how old she really was. But then, about a week ago, she stopped eating much at all. She got very skinny and started moving much more slowly. Late Friday afternoon, I started wondering if I should have taken her to the vet earlier that day. Then she seemed to do a bit better...until this morning, that is.

This morning, she had a very hard time getting up, she had a very hard time walking, and while she was trying to stand to drink her water, her back legs could not support her and she fell. I brought her into the house and tried to give her water in a bowl. She could not support herself enough to drink it, but she was thirsty. I gave her water from my hand and she lapped it up over and over, then drank what I had accidentally spilled on the floor as she laid beside it. She did manage to stand up and walk around again for a little bit, but her legs were quickly giving out again. I called the vet and they told me to bring her in at 3.

I was hoping for the vet to be able to give me a miracle, but I was fully expecting that Cori would not be coming home. So I started preparing Samantha for that likelihood. She understands, at least as much as a 3 year old can...and we just had the same type of conversation a few days ago about Grammy. So when I told her that Cori is very old and very sick and she might die very soon, Samantha told me that she will go to heaven and be happy, but that we will be sad. I told her that is right.

I kept Cori in the house and she finally got over being nervous and laid on one of the towels I put down for her. Samantha had been wanting to pet her, but I had Samantha stay away since Cori was already nervous and the kids quick movements tend to make her a little nervous anyway. When she finally settled down, I let Samantha come over to pet her, though. Cori enjoyed the extra attention and laid her head down in Samantha's lap. Samantha sat still with Cori, just gently petting her, for quite a long time for a three year old.

Pat came over to watch the kids for me, because I knew that there was no way that I could take them with me to the vet's office if Cori wasn't going to be coming home. And even if she were coming home, it would be very hard to manage getting her and the kids into the office when she is having so much trouble getting up and walking. Pat also said that they can help me bury her if need be. I am so grateful for good neighbors and friends!


At the vet's office, the vet said that we could do some testing and see if Cori was well enough to try some anti-inflammatory medicine and that might help her (he said that if she is strong enough to take them, it was a 50-50 chance of them helping her), and we might have another 3-6 months with her then. But he also said that with her eating problems and the huge amount of weight that she had lost, that it was very likely that there was something else going on. He talked about people wanting to do everything possible to help their pets, but that you also have to weigh the possibility that you would just be making things worse by prolonging the misery.

When I made the decision to let Cori go, he told me that he thought that I was doing the right thing, that he would make the same decision at this point if she were his dog. It was so hard. It was so hard to say goodbye, it was so hard to be alone there in the office. I sobbed as I told him my decision. I had silent tears rolling down my face while I held her and loved on her as they prepared the shot. I cried as I held her and petted her while he gave her the shot. And I sobbed very loudly when the vet told me her heart had stopped. Later, I felt like I should be apologizing to all the people who had to listen to me, but then, I just didn't care. I did not want to lose Cori. It turns out I wasn't nearly as ready to say goodbye as I thought I was.

I got home just a few minutes before Brent did, so when he got home, we got the kids ready to go and then went on to Glenn and Pat's house. Pat suggested burying her near their front gate and I chose a shady spot between two trees. Glen dug a hole with the front loader and while he was doing that I had to answer Samantha's questions about what we were doing. I explained that even though Cori died, her body is still here and needs to be buried. Samantha said that Cori is in heaven and she is happy. I told her that is right. She said that we are sad, though. I told her that is right. And she asked again what we are doing. This time I told her that even though Cori is in heaven, it looks like she is still here because her body is here and we need to bury her body. She didn't say anything else. I fully expect the same questions again in the days to come. Because, really, how on earth can a three year old understand these things.

After that, I was doing better for a while. Until we came home and there was no Cori to greet us. Samantha asked what was wrong when I started crying again. Brent and I told her that I am sad because I miss Cori. Samantha said that she is sad and misses Cori, too. This really stinks. This is so hard. I miss Cori. Samantha misses Cori. And somehow, I have to be together enough to not worry my kids or magnify Samantha's feelings.

She was such a good dog. She was patient with the kids and loved them. She was never jealous, even though she was nearly 13 when Samantha was born. She was so happy here in the country. I am glad that we moved here before she died, and that she had nearly a year of enjoying living here. She loved to walk with us and gave the kids lots of kisses. For that matter, she tried to give everyone lots of kisses. Samantha always told people "Cori is a wicky (how she says licky) dog." She chased squirrels and sometimes barked at the birds, but left all the other animals alone. She always met us at the door when we went outside. I miss my Cori.

Unexpected Peace

Brent called me on Tuesday afternoon and told me that Grammy (his paternal grandmother and only living grandparent) had taken a sudden, bad turn, and that she may only live another couple of days. He left work early and went to the nursing home to be with her and his parents. I waited until the kids woke up and they stayed with Aunt Ginger while I went to the nursing home. I started preparing Samantha for my being gone for a few hours, and told her that Grammy is very sick and will be going to heaven soon. I said that she and Jacob would stay with Aunt Ginger while I am at Grammy's house. She was completely fine with everything. I took the kids over to Ginger and told her that I had talked to Samantha about what is going one. As we were talking, with Samantha right beside us, Ginger looked over and said "Grammy needs..." and before she could finish the sentence with "her family around her," Samantha inserted "...to go to heaven." I smiled and told Samantha that she is right, and that Grammy will be happy and will not be sick as soon as she is in heaven with Jesus. My sweet 3 year old daughter gave me an unexpected moment of peace.

By the time I got to the nursing home, only Brent and his mom were there because his dad had to go get some work done. Brent left to go to Waco after I had been there for a while and his mom and I sat quietly some and we talked some. We held Grammy's hands when she woke up, and Mom called the nurse when she seemed to be in pain. I left at 6:45 to go home and put the kids to bed. I was grateful for the time I could be there. And I am grateful for my mother-in-law, who has such a caring heart, and who takes care of what and who needs to be taken care of all the time.

On Wednesday, Brent went straight to the nursing home from work. The kids and I met him in town for dinner and then they and I went on to church while Brent went back to the nursing home. After church, Brent took the kids home and I stayed at the nursing home. I had planned to stay quite late, but Dad convinced me that it was not neccessary, that the nurses would be in to check on Grammy very regularly and that they could give her pain medicine as often as once per hour if need be. I still stayed for a while, though. She was sleeping so peacefully, unlike the day before. I worked on my quilting, I sang songs to Grammy, and I sat quietly watching her. It was a time of unexpected peace and blessing for me in the midst of heartache and grief.

On Thursday afternoon I took the kids to the nursing home to visit a little. When we arrived, the rest of the family told me that Grammy's condition had progressed and that she was not expected to live through the day. There were quite a few family members there, so with the crowded area and the kids having been cooped up for a while, it was time for them to go home. I told Staci that she could stay and I would take the kids to my house, but that first I wanted to take Samantha in to see Grammy.

Every time we have visited Grammy in the past, we have asked Samantha to sing to Grammy. But she never would. I asked again as we sat beside Grammy's bed, and Samantha said no. I told her that I would sing with her, but she still said no as she nervously looked at the other people in the room. I told her that this will be her last chance to sing to Grammy, because she will be in heaven very soon...and she said yes. She sang "Jesus Loves Me" and "Sweet Sweet Spirit" I sort of sang with her as tears rolled down my face. Then she gave Grammy a kiss and we said goodbye. It was bittersweet moment. It was also a moment of peace.

This watching and waiting really stinks. We know that the end of Grammy's life on earth is coming. We know that it will be fairly soon but we don't know when. Each day we wake up in the morning wondering if Grammy is still alive, wondering if today is the day. This is hard! I am grateful that in the middle of the waiting, of the uncertain grieving, that we have these moments of peace.

A Year Ago Today

an amazing woman left this earth to be with Jesus, her 29 year battle with cancer finally finished.

A mutual friend introduced the following song to us as a dedication to Sheryl just a few days before her death. I still cry every time I hear it; but I am so grateful for the truth and hope of which this song also reminds us.

As the one year anniversary of Sheryl's death has approached, I have been thinking of her more and more. So many little things make me think of her each day. And every month when I celebrate one more month of my son, I miss one more month of my friend. I wish that she were here to celebrate each month with us. I wish that I could just call her and hear her sweet voice again. I wish that Mark didn't have to face another day without her...every single day. I wish that she and Mark had been able to grow old together. I wish that they could have watched "The Notebook" without being jealous of knowing that they would not have the opportunity to grow old together.

Sheryl was an amazing person. She was great at rejoicing with her friends. She was amazingly courageous. She had a great attitude. She had an incredible way of looking at things. She was always thinking about other people and taking care of them. She loved babies and children and longed for her own. But she was not bitter and was rarely discouraged. Instead she kept celebrating life and living it to the fullest. She always kept up her hope.

A couple nights ago, I was flipping through a couple of catalogs and found the following...one on a picture and one on a bracelet, each in two different catalogs. I saw several other things that spoke directly to me about Sheryl, but these were the best,so I decided to share them with you.

"Broken Chain"
We little knew that morning that God was going to call your name. In life we loved you dearly, in death we do the same. It broke our hearts to lose you, you did not go alone; for part of us went with you, the day God called you home. You left us peaceful memories, your love is still our guide; and though we cannot see you, you are always at our side. Our friendship chain is broken, and nothing seems the same; but as God calls us one by one, the chain will link again.

"What Cancer Cannot Do...It cannot invade the soul, suppress memories, kill friendship, destroy peace, conquer the spirit, shatter hope, cripple love, corrode faith, steal eternal life, silence courage."

I miss you, Sheryl. Mark, you remain in my thoughts and prayers.

Sadness

I found out the other day that one of my friends is having twins. My first thought was that I am so happy for her. How exciting! Also scary to have TWO babies to take care of when just one is so much work. But exciting more than anything.

That thought was almost immediately followed by silent tears.

What is this?

I have said for quite some time that I am grateful there is only one of Jacob. I don't think there is any way I could have handled twins. And yet, I am crying because I don't have twins...because the baby who would have been Jacob's twin is already in heaven and I don't get to ever feel that sweet little one in my arms on this earth.

Apparently my head and my heart are still having a disconnect. I wonder if that will always be the way it is? I'm beginning to think so. That there will be times when I am surprised by that grief again. Just when I thought everything was fine.

Longing

I don't know why, but I have been full of longing lately. Longing for my babies who are in heaven. And especially for the one who would have been Jacob's twin.

When I first found out that I was pregnant with only one baby again, I had a very hard time dealing with it. Yes, I was happy for the one who was growing and healthy, but I also grieved for the one who already went to heaven. I wanted to hold that baby in my arms! I knew that it would be very hard (that is a vast understatement, I am sure!) to have twins, especially with a toddler to take care of as well. But it didn't matter what my head knew, my heart wanted both of my babies with me. It didn't matter that I know that baby is far better off being in heaven, wrapped in God's embrace from the start, never knowing any of the sorrow and pain that life on earth can bring. Experiencing only the joy of God's presence. I still wanted my baby. And I told God that. Over and over and over. I cried to Him. I yelled at Him. I prayed that the first sonogram was wrong. And eventually I came to acceptance. And I was profoundly grateful for my one baby growing strong and healthy. I thought that I was beyond all that grieving.

But it turns out that I'm not. Even now, in the midst of struggling to keep up with the needs of ONE baby and a toddler, knowing that I would be a completely exhausted basket case if there were two babies and a toddler, I still want my other baby. (This is where you ask if I am absolutely crazy, and I guess the answer is that yes, I am) I find myself longing to know that other life. And I don't want to wait until I get to heaven. I want to know that baby now. And I cry about it. And I ask God why. And I don't hear an answer. I will probably never know...at least not on this earth.

I wonder if deciding to go ahead with in vitro was a poor decision after all. I resisted the idea for a LONG time...until I found out that we could donate any embryos we had left to another couple. Once I found that out, my resistance began to crumble. My moral reason for resistance was gone. And the rest of my resistance wasn't very hard to whittle away, particularly after we discovered that my insurance would cover the process...at least partially. But I never thought about the fact that we would have babies who were conceived who would not survive long enough to be transferred or frozen. And I never thought about the fact that I would know exactly how many babies were transferred into my uterus, and that as a result I would know without a doubt how many babies have died. And I never thought about the fact that the knowledge would hurt. Did we forget to let God decide how to handle things, and this grief is a result? Did we not have enough faith to allow Him to do things His way? But then, God is the one who allowed men the knowledge of how to do in vitro. And there was plenty of grief before, when we thought we might never have a child. There are no easy answers.

If we hadn't done in vitro, even if those babies had been concieved, I would never have known, and I wouldn't be longing for any of them now. But since we did make that decision, I would not go back and undo it, because that decision brought Samantha and Jacob to us...and I would not trade life with them for anything. I would not even trade this sorrow and longing. I would rather have it with them than not have it without them.

I don't know why...but my attention has been drawn to several people in the last few days. These weren't stories I went searching for...I'm not sure why I happened across even one of them...much less several. They are women who have lost their babies. Some whose babies died while in utero at a very late stage of pregnancy. And some whose babies died within minutes or hours of their birth. And I have bawled as I read their stories, and as they shared their pain and anger...and their never-wavering faith in God.

I didn't experience what they did. I didn't have a grief so consuming that I couldn't get up in the morning. My grief didn't really interfere with my living my life at all. I didn't have to try to comfort my small child and help her understand why her new sibling wouldn't be able to come home. I had a baby to hold at the end of each of my pregnancies. One who would live and grow. Who would make me laugh and who would make me scream in frustration. One who would show me that I can love more than I ever realized was possible. One who would love me even when I don't deserve it.

But in spite of that...I find myself almost envious that they saw the face of their sweet child who is now in heaven. I don't want to go through what they did, but I do want a face to picture when I cry. I want people to give me the right to cry instead of telling me that I should just be grateful for what I do have. I want it to be "acceptable" for me to long for my child.

I also want the faith that I see them displaying. The faith that their first reaction is one of stating that God has not changed and that he is worthy of praise, NO MATTER WHAT. That He has a reason for allowing their tragedy, even if they will never know that reason. And that they can praise Him for that reason without ever knowing it. The kind of faith that my children can see in my life every day. The kind that they will learn by watching me in every ordinary moment. The faith that has these women drawing closer to Him every day, that has them leaning on Him when they cannot stand on their own anymore. I long for that close relationship with my savior, the one that I think I once had, but somehow misplaced.

I read this prayer several years ago and pray it often now. "God, since I can't hold my babies on my lap and teach them about You. Please hold them on Your lap and teach them about me."

And God, then please hold me and help me to know You more, and help me to show You more.

Heartache

Today was Jacob's baby shower. It was a wonderful time of celebrating our sweet boy with friends. But my heart also ached.

My friend Angie, one of the hostesses, couldn't be there because she lost her baby on Monday. Her second pregnancy was in 2007, and in July of that year, while I was pregnant with Samantha, she lost her Baby Girl because her umbilical cord got so severly twisted that the tiny baby had no oxygen and no nutrients. My sweet friend didn't want to have to tell me about that news because she didn't want me to worry that the same thing would happen to me. Then Angie had Tanner in the summer of 2008 and we rejoiced in him. This was her fourth pregnancy, a happy surprise. They just told us that they were having another baby a couple of weeks ago. But a blood clot developed in the umbilical cord and the baby died as a result. I found out on Tuesday morning and she went into labor that afternoon. She was 11.5 weeks. She had almost 2 months of dreaming of meeting this new baby later this year. And now she has to wait a lifetime to do so. My heart aches for her, for Michael and for their 2 sons.

Sheryl was one of the hostesses at Samantha's baby shower. She and Ann made a beautiful cake together. There were many times this fall when I missed Sheryl's presence, knowing that she would have been there if she were still alive. I am sure that she would have been a hostess for Jacob's baby shower as well. And she and Ann would have made another beautiful cake together. Ann did a wonderful job on her own...I loved the cake...but I still miss Sheryl. Sheryl died on August 11. Jacob was born on Dec 11. Each month when I celebrate another month with my son...I will also be marking another month without my friend. My heart aches for Mark, and for me missing my friend.

And I miss my other babies...especially the one who would have been Jacob's twin. I really thought that I was pregnant with both of them before the first sonogram. And I really had a hard time dealing with the news that there was only one baby. I wanted both of them. And my heart aches that I will not hold that other baby in my arms on this earth. Even as I rejoice in my sweet, healthy son.

Softly and Tenderly

"Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling, calling for you and for me. See on the portals He's waiting and watching, watching for you and for me. Come home, come home, you who are weary come home. Earnestly, tenderly Jesus is calling, calling oh sinner, come home."

I was thinking of this song and writing this blog entry in my head last night after we put Samantha to bed. I was going to write it this morning, talking about how gentle and tender Mark is with Sheryl and how Jesus will be calling Sheryl home very soon. When I got up this morning, I found out that at the very time I was thinking of this song, Jesus was in fact, calling Sheryl home.

I was able to visit with Sheryl on Saturday afternoon. She was very tired from a day of nearly endless visitors, but she was so glad to see everyone. It was a good day. She was still quite worn out on Sunday, but was doing pretty well, still talking to her visitors and remaining awake most of the day. On Sunday, it was decided that visiotrs should come in the morning mostly, which was her most energetic time, so she could rest in the afternoon.

On Monday I had the day off work for my last day of vacation. I always plan an extra day off so that I can catch up on things and rest a bit before going back to work. I am so grateful for that planning, especially now! I dropped Samantha off at the babysitter and went to the grocery store for a few things, including a meal for Mark for that night.

I called Mark as I was leaving the house and he told me that Sheryl had not woken up yet and the ministers were on their way over. He said that it would not be a good time for visitors. He said that the end was near. I told him that I would just drop off the food and then leave, but when I arrived, Robert Stolte was with them, and there was no one else at the house. I offered to stay to answer the phone and the door so that Mark could stay with Sheryl and Robert, and he accepted that offer. Gordon arrived not too long after that and then Lezley came in. Just as Lezley arrived, Sheryl woke up.

Gordon asked to pray over her and Sheryl agreed by saying "Absolutely." Jennifer Kimball also came and together with Robert, we tried to get the flat fixed on Mark's truck, but found that the battery was dead. Robert went home to change clothes and then came back and took care of the battery. He worked hard out in the heat to take care of the things that needed to be done. It was wonderful to see him and all the other poeple who came and served as the hands and feet of Jesus throughout the day.

We made lunch and made muffins for breakfast the next morning. We sat with Sheryl and spoke to Mark about how they met and many other things. Melinda Leverette came and read scripture over Sheryl while Mark took a short nap. Susan Griffith and Deborah Green also came and sat with her. Sheryl woke up a few times through the day for a few minutes each time. She knew who each person was but she was not making much sense other than speaking our names. She always responded to Mark even when her eyes were not open and she wasn't saying anything. It was obvious throughout the day that his touch and his voice made a difference to her.

It was such a privilege to see this man take such sweet, gentle, tender care of his wife. The love between them was so obvious that it would bring tears to your eyes. Susan said that this is really what "in sickness and health, til death do us part" is all about, and that Mark shows such strength in that committment. She was absolutely right. I don't think that when we speak them, any of us really think about what those words will mean in the end, but it was brought home to me in the last few days. I hope and pray that I will never be faced with a situation similar to Mark and Sheryl's. But if I am, I hope that I will be able to use Mark's example in living my life with compassion, love and strength.

I was blessed to be with them for the entire day. I am so glad that I had the day off work and that I was able to take Samantha to the babysitter that morning. Even though Sheryl was not able to talk to me, I am glad to have had the day to sit with her, to keep watch over her while she slept, and to be able to do small things to help her husband.

I never imagined that I would be keeping watch over a dying friend, so I never imagined what it would be like. I was surprised by my feelings and by the day, though. We cried, as I expected. But we also laughed and had peaceful quiet times. I was afraid to be there before I went, but I left being grateful for having the opportunity and blessing to be there all day.

I never did ask Sheryl to love on my babies in heaven, but while Mark and I were sitting alone with Sheryl in the evening, I told him that I have 19 babies in heaven that Sheryl will need to love on for me til I get there. He said that she will love that.

Before I left for the evening, I leaned over and gave Sheryl a kiss, whispered that I love her and I will see her again someday. I hadn't planned that, I was planning to come back the next evening, I didn't think there was a reason to say goodbye quite yet. But apparently God took care of me and and nudged me to do so. I am thankful.

I had to work yesterday, but I called Mark when I got home. He said that there had not really been any change during the day. Sheryl was not responding and her pulse was not good. He said that she did wake up and repsond that morning when Gordon was there having a prayer service and annointing her with oil. That was the last time she responded to anything. He told me that Lezley was going to heat up food for dinner, so they were taken care of for the evening. I told him that I would call again tomorrow after work.

This morning when I checked my e-mail, Lezley had written that at 7:20 last night Sheryl's breathing had changed and by 7:30 she was gone. Jesus was calling her home while He gave me thoughts of His calling her.

I still find it hard to believe. Sheryl was so dynamic and loving, vibrant and alive. It is hard to imagine this world without her. She touched so many people with her love and sweet spirit. She will be missed. She will never be forgotten.

We all love you, Sheryl. I look forward to our reunion in heaven.

What do you say?

I am going to visit a friend today...and it will most likely be the last time I ever see her on this earth. She has been battling cancer for nearly 30 years and is now in Hospice care. She is not expected to live beyond the week.

What do I say? What do we talk about? Do I act as if nothing is any different, or do we talk about heaven? Do I tell her that I wish she was going to be here to help us welcome our new baby? Do I ask her to love on my babies in heaven until I meet up with all of them and her again? Or do I just talk about what is going on now and tell her that she can beat this again as she has done so many times in the past? Do I try to offer comfort, or just tell her that I love her and will never forget her? Do I allow myself to cry, or do I fight to hold it in? What is best for her? That is what it all comes down to. And I have no idea what the answer is.

I've never had someone close to me die this way, at least not since I was a kid. And it was never someone my age. I am lost and don't know what to do. And I don't have very long to figure it out. I am brokenhearted and afraid.

Moving to Acceptance

Yesterday was a bit of a tough day...full of mixed emotions.

I had the first sonogram of this pregnancy and found out that we are having one baby. This baby is right on with its growth and the heart rate was perfect. That is the happy part. The sad part was that there was another baby transferred with this one. And the other baby is in heaven now.

My head knows this is the best. My head knows all the answers. It is very unlikely that I would have been able to carry twins to term. It would have been VERY hard to take care of newborn twins while taking care of an older baby under 2 years. In fact, it will be hard taking care of only one newborn and also taking care of Samantha. And I know that God is taking much better care of that baby (and all the others) than I ever could. And my head says that I will get to meet all of those babies in heaven someday. What a wonderful reunion that will be! But my heart says that I really wanted both of my babies here with me. And my heart can't understand why that shouldn't happen.

So I'm in a bit of a tough spot right now. It's strange to be both happy and sad at the same time. It's strange to be rejoicing and greiving at the same time. It's strange to be devastated and relieved at the same time. But that's where I am.

I find myself wondering why this is so much harder than it was when I found out that Samantha was the only baby to make it in that pregnancy. Perhaps it is because, with Samantha, my hcg levels were at the bare minimum to indicate a healthy pregnancy, so although I hoped for twins, I never REALLY thought I had twins. But this time, my numbers were more than double what they were with Samantha, so I really thought there was a chance of twins. But, whatever the reason, it is harder this time.

So until my heart catches up with my head and I come to true acceptance, you may see me crying for no apparent reason. I may tear up suddenly while talking to you. And now you know that there us a reason (besides pregnant hormones!)...and I may not be ready to talk about it. I will be OK. It will just take some time. So until my heart catches up with my head...please be patient with me.