29 years.

Yesterday marked the 29th year of my Mom's death. She was 40, 3 months short of her 41st birthday. I was 3, a little over a month away from turning 4. I don't remember much of her. What I do remember is blurred with the stories people have told me about her. I'm not sure what are my memories, and what are others memories for me. I miss her. I miss what should have been. I look at The Girl, and realize she is only a few months older than I was, and I can't imagine how I would ever prepare her for losing me. My Dad remarried 158 days after she died. 158 days. He married someone who didn't want anymore kids. Someone who didn't even have kids at home anymore. but, she was supposed to help him raise me, and my youngest older brother. I understand his need for companionship. I understand that my Mom was very sick for a very long time. I have never understood his reasoning behind marrying so quickly. I went through years and years of anger, hatred, and bitterness. I am no longer angry. I have come to realize there is nothing I can do to change my past, and I can choose to let it consume me, or I can choose to move forward. 

I have decided to make as many memories, take as many pictures, go on as many adventures as I can with my babies. I don't ever want them to grow up without me, but I want them to have the best memories possible if that ever happens. I don't want them to rely on others to remember things for them. 

Learning Christ's Way.

Religion. Tough thing for me to write about. Religion is a sore subject for a lot of people. I am in no way an expert. I was raised in church, and I rebelled as a young adult. I went as far as possible away from church, and God. I did exactly what I was taught not to do. Smoking? Yep! Drinking? Yep! Wearing pants? Per-marital sex? Swearing? Yes, yes, yes! (I know the wearing pants thing is debatable, but it was s HUGE no-no in my house) I did many more 'bad' things. Things that were drilled into my head for 18 years that were sinful. Wrong. Evil. 

I hated God. I didn't want anything to do with Him.

 I had been taught that if we sinned, it made God mad. I was daring God to get mad at me. 'Go ahead God! Punish me!!'  

Needless to say, I survived. I came through the other side, not completely untouched, but completely forgiven. 

Guess what? No matter what I had done, I was still loved! I came back to God, and church and had to start over with my religious foundation. I had to un-learn all I had been taught growing up, and re-learn Christ's way. I had to learn that it was okay for me to have my own opinion. It was okay for me to disagree with something I didn't think was right based on my own convictions, and not just because I was told to. I had to learn how to love without being judgmental. To accept people with different convictions than mine. To help others because I wanted to, not because it was my 'duty'. 

I was confronted with a 'blast from the past' recently, and it made me realize how far I've come. I am thankful for the forgiveness, love, and acceptance of Christ.

I'll admit, it's hard. I feel myself becoming that same judgemental, bitter person. I have to be careful not to get a 'holier than thou' feeling. I struggle with gossip. I struggle with comparing myself to others instead of Christ. I'm not perfect, but my God is! 

Infertile, or Not?

Today is day three of Infertility Awareness Week, and someone made a comment to me that made me think. The comment? 'Didn't you use to be infertile?' Hm. Used to be? I guess on the outside looking in, I used to be infertile. I mean, I have two miracles. Doesn't that mean I'm not broken anymore? Maybe. However, infertility for me isn't just about broken/malfunctioning reproductive organs.
It's an all consuming battle.
It's crying in the middle of the night because another month has come and gone and you just found out you're not pregnant. Again.
It's smiling on the outside, while your heart is breaking on the inside, when a family member or friend announces they are pregnant. Again.
It's smiling and saying 'maybe' when a well meaning friend asks if you are going to have kids soon. Or if you are going to have another.
It's making excuses why you cant go when you are invited to a baby shower. Or going and running the risk that you spend the entire party sobbing in the bathroom. It's watching a friends baby grow up, and aching for your lost baby that would have been the same age.
It's spending the first year of your first take home babies life terrified you are doing something wrong. Terrified to leave her with anyone. Terrified you are a bad parent. Terrified its just a dream, and she really isn't real.
It's struggling to give her that all important sibling everyone keeps asking about, and going through more heartbreak. Loss. Despair.
It's finally bringing your second baby home, and the terrified feelings creep back in.
Being an infertile with kids comes with its own set of problems. You feel you don't fit in with either side: Fertile, or Infertile? You know the struggles of your fellow infertile families, yet you have what they desire. You don't really feel like you belong to the other side either. After all, they don't understand your fears. They don't get the struggle.
Does one ever truly get over bring infertile? Maybe. Maybe in a few years. Right now though, I label myself as infertile. With two miracles.

Gods Blessings

Today I got to message with my nephew for a little bit (he's a Marine, and currently deployed) and we got to talking about how great God is, and I'd like to take some time today, and list the things God has done for us.
We were told, after years of trying, that biological children would be impossible without major medical intervention. The Girl will be 4 next week, and The Boy will be 8 months. Both were conceived with no medical intervention (yes we did everything short of IVF when we were trying, but The Girl was conceived after we stopped everything. The Boy was our extra special surprise)
We were told to give up, and find somewhere else countless times, by well meaning friend and family, while we were trying to buy our house. We had peace, and I even physically heard a voice telling me 'WAIT!' one day. Scared me at the time, but I felt overwhelming peace. We now have a house that is perfect for us. It has every single one of our needs, and almost all of our wants. All within our budget. It took us 6 months, but God gave us our house. Had we given up, we might still be looking.
The Boy. He is a miracle to begin with, but he is a double miracle. I noticed at around 2 months something wasn't right with his eyes. He wasn't focusing, and he had 'wiggly' eyes according to his sister. The diagnosis was a scary one, and we were told he may never see. As of right now, his vision is good, and our ophthalmologist is very confident he will have almost normal vision. The pesky 'wiggle' is still there, but we know God will give the Drs wisdom on how to deal with that in the future if needed.
Those are just a few huge things that show us how much God loves us. That doesn't complete the list, those are just the big ones for us. God is good, even in the hard times. He never leaves us.

Eating

Happy Sunday everyone! We are having such a nice day today! After Church, the kids and I went to a women's lunch with our church ladies, and after that, we vegged out on the couch (we got a new one, and its so comfy!) until The Most Handsome Hubby had to go to work.
Tonight, The Boy was eating, and gobbling up every bite, and begging for more almost before his mouth was empty. I couldn't help but laugh at his giant mouth, and the excited noises he was making. The Girl decided to get in on the action, but she was sticking non-food items in his mouth (a toy, a empty spoon, a sock, etc) He eventually refused to open his mouth for anything, including the yummy pears I had been feeding him!
It reminded me of my devotions a few days ago in Jeremiah and Psalms: Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in him. Psalm 34:8, and Jeremiah 15:16 When your words came, I ate them; they were my joy and my heart's delight, for I bear your name, LORD God Almighty.
The word of God is our spiritual food. We eat by reading it. Studying it. We go to church to be fed by the teaching of the Pastor. We are in charge of our diet, though. We choose to open our mouths and be fed, or clamp our lips close and not receive. We are in charge of whether or not we get a good meal, or go hungry. We also need to only eat good things, not lies and garbage (or socks and toys, haha!)

Just another day

My bed is crowded this morning. The Cat, The Girl, The Boy, and The Most Handsome Husband are sharing it with me. The Cat is the only one who knows what personal space means (at least today) I have a list a mile long to accomplish today. Cleaning. Shopping. Preparing for The Girl's 4th birthday party/our housewarming party (EEK!! Only 2 more weeks!) But here I sit, cuddled with my babies, listening to them breathe, and wishing I could keep them little forever. Today is a day I think of what could have been, but not with sadness (today at least) I realize I could have been planning a party for a 7 year old. I always imagine our first baby would have been a boy. I don't know why, but I think I like the idea of a big brother angel watching out for the rest of my babies. He'd want something Manly, not the baby theme of The Girl's party (Veggie Tales, anyone?) Then I think if we hadn't had a second loss, The Boy would never be here. That makes me sad. I wouldn't have my cuddle bug. My loving, sweet, precious, don't put me down or I'll scream, bundle of joy. I realize that all things happen for a reason. Without our loss(es), and struggle to have a baby, I wouldn't appreciate my babies as much. I might not be able to offer an encouraging word for someone in the middle of their journey.
My bed might be full this morning, but so is my heart. So, here I sit, crowded and uncomfortable, but happy and content.

Angel Birthdays

Today is my niece's 19th birthday. I remember the call, and feeling jealous because today is also my sisters birthday, and how cool would it be to share a birthday with my niece? Then I remember feeling guilty because she was born so early. So tiny. So sick. I remember the race to Alabama, and how I never saw my Dad so determined to get there as quickly as possible. I remember when we got there seeing my brother and Dad hug for what seemed to be forever, and seeing both of them cry for the first time that I can remember except for when my Mom died. I remember seeing her tiny, perfect body, and thinking she looked just like a porcelain doll. My Dad kept saying she looked like me. I tried hard to imagine myself that small. I remember thinking Why? Why would God allow such an innocent be taken from us so young?How was this fair?
Fast forward to now. My brother and sister in law have 4 more children. They are awesome, smart, handsome, beautiful, wonderful kids. I hope mine grow up to be just like them. I still don't know why God chose to make Brittany sick, or why he chose to take her from this earth, but I think I appreciate the babies in the family that got to stay here on earth more. I can't imagine what it's like to carry a baby and feel it grow and move, and then give birth only to be told that you need to say goodbye. I do know the loss of a baby, but I lost my babies almost as soon as I knew they existed. The hurt is still there, the empty arms are still there, but I know it's different.
Today I'll hug my babies a little closer, and think of my family, and remember how perfect my niece was, and pray for the next few days to go by as pain free as possible for my family as they remember the birthday of their angel, and her short few days here on the earth.

The past creeps in

On Sunday at Church something interesting happened. It was a normal Sunday: Go early, help set up, chase The Girl, feed The Boy, sing, fellowship, then the message. Except something happened during the message. Our normal Pastor wasn't preaching. The man who did preach had a different style from our Pastor, and it triggered something.
 I grew up in a Independent Fundamental Baptist Church, and while there were rules at church, there were even more at home. While people who went to the same Church as me might disagree, they didn't live at my house, so my life was definitely different than theirs. I lived in fear every day that I wasn't really going to heaven because I was wicked. I was terrified I was going to be killed because of some broken rule (the wages of sin is death, after all) I never knew if what I was doing, or what I was saying would be breaking a rule.
I gave that bit of background to get to my point. The preaching on Sunday: While I'm sure it was a lovely message (it was about giving your all for God, and helping others while they give) (at least I think that was the gist of it) it gave me flashbacks of when I was growing up. All I could think was 'I have to prove my love for God by giving, and if I don't give everything, I never really loved Him' I shut down. I don't want to do that. So I tried to listen some more, and just felt sick. With every point being made, I just kept hearing 'you're not good enough, you're not worthy, you never loved God' I had to leave the service. I hate that. I hate that what was probably a perfectly good message was a trigger from my past. I have been praying about this, and no answers yet. I hate waiting. I'm not a patient person!!