And a year later…


I keep telling myself I will update this. And I keep taking nap time as a time to lie down instead of as a time to get things done. And we all know that with a toddler in the house, there is no typing a blog post with her awake. But I would really like to blog. I’ve had a blog (oh Xanga) since I was in high school. You know, before it was THE way for mommies to make money from home. Now that is a cool job. Any one want to sponsor my writing? I blog once or twice a year and I have one reader. Is that enough to make a lot of money?

Cool. Just contact me later, and we will work out the details.

The Bug is now 18 MONTHS OLD! I can’t believe time has gone by so quickly. A lot has changed in these past 2 years. We packed our house. Twice. We moved. Thrice. (We moved houses twice with a month at my parent’s in between.) Hubby started a new job. Twice. And we were pregnant. Twice. You heard me, twice.

We lost a precious baby in October. These past months have been the hardest of my life. There really are no words to express what it is like to lose a child. And I firmly believe that the life inside me was a child. No, I never saw that baby’s face or even named him or her, but it was my baby none the less. He or she was loved, prayed for, dreamed about, planned for. The same as The Bug was when I was pregnant with her. And yet, I had to say goodbye to this life after 2 1/2 short weeks. I was 6 1/2 weeks along, but only knew for a short time. And in those weeks, I fell hopelessly in love.

On a Saturday morning, I woke up and discovered blood. Nervous, but somehow still calm, I called the doctor who told me to take it easy and wait. I put myself on bed rest willing my body to stop what I somehow knew was happening. My mom had several miscarriages and I expected the worst while begging God to make it stop. Begging for mercy for my sweet baby. I tried to imagine a positive outcome and settled in to wait. By that evening I knew for sure I was miscarrying. And that next evening I held the remains of that life in my hands and cried.

How could this have happened to me? Had I done something wrong? What was the purpose of that sweet life? And why was it taken from us? Was it so incredibly selfish of me to just expect a normal, healthy pregnancy? Had I not prayed enough? Had I worried about the finances to much? Were we being punished?

Many people said things to try to make it better. But I clung to the knowledge that our “chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy Him for ever.” And that baby had been called home sooner than I imagined our hoped for, but he or she was just fulfilling his or her purpose in life. And our lives are not just lived here on earth. They continue forever in the presence of our Savior and the one true God.

Several months later, the hardest part is seeing other pregnant women. I have a friend that was due several days apart from when I would have been due. And I have several more friends that have announced their pregnancy due around the same time. So I have a constant reminder of how far along I could have been right now. 15 weeks. I would have been nearing the end of morning sickness. That is, if the pregnancy was like the first one. I try so hard to be happy for everyone. To rejoice with their miracle. But all I really want to do is cry out – WHY NOT ME??? Why didn’t I get to keep my baby?

I will get to meet that sweet baby in heaven one day. And we will get to be together forever. And we will find our chief end in glorifying God and enjoying Him forever. But on this earth, I will just have a hole in my heart where that baby could have been.



Woah two days in a row. Who’s on a roll? This girl.

Am I allowed to call myself a girl now that I’m supposedly all grown up? I’ll have to think on that.

Moving on.

Through motherhood I am discovering that life is all about choices. Choices between right and wrong, between good decisions and poor ones, between the old man and the new man. Every day I must choose to respond to the trials in my life.

Now don’t get me wrong, my life is pretty peachy. But Mommyhood will test you like none other. And I am choosing (eh, eh, you get it?) to look at it as a learning experience. One in which the Lord will refine me and teach me a lot of things.

One thing that I have been desperately searching for is more patience. I have always known that I am not the most patient person in the world. Just ask my brothers – man do they have some stories. On second thought, don’t ask my brothers. I don’t want those stories out in the open.

But Motherhood has shed a very uncomfortable light on my patience threshold. Which on some days is about a -3. But as I have been praying for more patience the Lord has been revealing that patience is a choice. In that split second before I feel my blood start to boil or before I just explode I have a choice. And I am trying very hard to choose patience.

Do not read that last statement and assume that I mean I can do that on my own. We all now what assuming gets you, now don’t we? A donkey.

But through Christ I know that my old man, my sinful nature, was crucified with Him and my new man was raised with Him.

For we died and were buried with Christ by baptism. And just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glorious power of the Father, now we also may live new lives. […] We know that our old sinful selves were crucified with Christ so that sin might lose its power in our lives.

Romans 6:4b, 6a

Today, I was praying for more passion. More passion in my walk with the Lord. And yet again, the Lord revealed that passion is a choice. I can choose to pursue the Lord. I can choose to wholeheartedly follow Him. And then, and only then, will true passion develop. Because my relationship with Him is not a checklist that has a completion prize awarded at the end.

I am still learning. Most days I fall short. But I guess that is the beauty of grace.

I am a terrible blogger


True story. Truly terrible.

Moving on.

There is a recent study that keeps popping up in my daily readings. This study right here. That link is probably boring but it was the first link on Google. If you would like, Google it yourself. Here’s a link to Google. Sorry I’m feeling all link-y today.


So basically the study says that if you sit too much you die. Especially if you are a woman. No really. That is what this study proved. Go back and read the article. Because I know you didn’t do it the first time I told you to.

Ready? And proceed.

So naturally I have been (over) analyzing how much I sit in any given day. You see I am at this stage in my life. I am currently employed as a dairy cow. And typically I sit for these occasions. I can walk around, but who wants to. My child is heavy. And I am 85 years old and it hurts my back to walk around & nurse. That accounts for half my day. No lie.

The rest of the time I sit during the following activities: paying bills, checking facebook, playing with the Bug, taking baths, sorting laundry (what you don’t do that?), going to the bathroom (sorry to get graphic but it’s the truth), writing this blog, reading blogs, driving, changing diapers, and doing any type of research about photography, baby stuff, recipes, and other random things that pop up on stumble.

So with that amount of sitting in any given day my demise may be coming sooner than expected. Because the other thing that study said was that exercise actually didn’t help those poor dead ladies involved in the study. (Not that I exercise much. What, with all that sitting and such.)

I just wanted to let you know. Yes you. The one person that reads my blog (oh hey Momma). I will miss you.

I should probably go stand and nurse now.

Pregnancy Woes


Well as far as I can tell I am progressing quite nicely. I am 29 weeks along and still feel great. I do tire easily and notice the strain of her (and my) ever growing weight when I have been on my feet for a while. Robert and I have been rejoicing and thanking God for a relatively easy pregnancy. No complications, no worrisome complaints, just happily growing a baby.

And then all of a sudden at my appointment last week we got hit. The doctor think she is measuring too small so he schedules a sonogram ASAP. And while in my head I can reason that I am 5’2” and very petite. And that both sides of the family are not large people in stature or weight. So having a small baby is not that shocking. But I still have been fighting the worry and placing myself and this baby girl back in God’s hands. (Which I have to do 3500 times a day.)

That same day I took my 1 hour glucose screening test which consists of drinking (read: chugging) liquid glucose on a fairly empty stomach and then drawing blood in 1 hour. I get a call today with the results of that test. Calls are always a bad sign. No news=good news in the doctor world, especially when they could have just told me the results at my next appointment in two weeks. I am slightly anemic. Which also is not a shocker considering I have been borderline anemic pretty much all my life but can control it with a protein rich diet. This is fixed easily with an iron supplement. And I failed my glucose test. Which means that on the morning of my sono I get to take a 3 hour test.

This test is a big one. From midnight the night before on I am allowed no food or drink of any kind. My instructions were to get up, brush my teeth (spitting out any water I use), and be at the office by 8:00 am. At 8:00 I have some baseline blood drawn. I then get double the dose of liquid glucose. Then comes the oh so fun part. I sit. I eat and drink nothing. For three hours. And every hour upon the hour I get my blood drawn. Oh boy. And have I mentioned that I am pregnant and that I eat about every hour. And that I drink lots of water. And did you catch the fact that I can’t eat or drink ANYTHING?!? This should be fun. The results of this test will determine if in fact I do or do not have gestational diabetes. If I fail 2 out of the 4 blood tests I get to travel down the road of dietitians and screenings and tests and blood work.


I am struggling to keep positive and keep trusting the Lord through this. I went from absolutely nothing wrong to seemingly everything wrong. I do realize that none of these things are truly life threatening or terrible for either the baby or me. But it is still quite frustrating. You know when you try to do things right: eating like you should, exercising, taking care of yourself. It is hard to hear that there still might be something wrong. Something out of your control.

But I know the One who is in control. And I am clinging to the verses that say my baby girl is fearfully and wonderfully made. That God is knitting her together inside me. His hands are putting her together just like she should be. And He is watching her grow and develop right on schedule.

And honestly there is still the very likely possibility that there is absolutely nothing wrong with either her or me. I am trusting that after this 3 hr test and the sono that we will go back to rejoicing that this pregnancy is complication free.

Psalms 139:13-16

13 For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.

15 My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,

16 your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me
were written in your book
before one of them came to be.

My Miracle


I read this tonight and cried. And haven’t stopped for several hours. Blame it on the hormones. Blame it on the fact that my grandpa had a massive heart attack today and the news kinda shook me up. Or chalk it up to the fear that welled up within me. That heart wrenching fear that I didn’t want to put into spoken words.

What if that were my child? My girl? What if I lost my cupcake decorating, art project making, home school instructing dream? My vision of a perfect, beautiful, intelligent little girl.

I know that we would love her. Accept her. Welcome her into our family. I know that Robert and I would still thank God for our little miracle. That is not the issue. The issue is that when I envision my child, I envision her perfect and healthy and beautiful. I see a little one that I can teach and nurture. A little sponge-like baby that will amaze me every day. I see her growing and maturing into a wonderful woman of God who will do such great things with her life. I pray for that. I wrap my arms around my ever growing belly and imagine that I am holding that little girl who has already captured my heart and I pray. I pray that she would grow and be healthy. That the Lord would turn her little heart towards Him. I ask that He would keep us both safe.

But tonight I was confronted with something that had never crossed my mind. What if she isn’t exactly like I picture her? What if I too have to put to rest my vision and dream of a little girl that God didn’t intend for me to have? And then it hit me. Who am I to measure the life of my girl by my ‘perfect’ dream? Couldn’t she still grow to be a wonderful woman of God? Wouldn’t she still flourish within this loving family who will so carefully nurture and instruct her? Wouldn’t we still be proud to call her our daughter? Of course we would. Who am I to define perfection? She would still be perfect and beautiful. She would still amaze me.

So now, despite the tears, I thank God for the little one inside me. I thank God for who she is, for how He has knit her together in my womb, for the fact that she is beautifully and wonderfully made. Because my little miracle growing inside me is and forever will be just that – a miracle.

The Preggo Craze


Pregnancy makes you lose your mind. Literally. According to my friend What to Expect When You’re Expecting,

Researchers have found that a woman’s brain-cell volume actually decreases during pregnancy.

Which means I am getting dumber. And more forgetful. And clumsy. However one of my more important discoveries is that this so called ‘Baby Brain’ affects not only the preggo woman but those around her as well.

Someone comes up to you in Walmart and rubs your belly. (Thank goodness this has actually not happened to me but bear with me.) Sure there is a person under there and it is a beautiful miracle, but does that really give a stranger the right to touch my tummy? I don’t go around supermarkets rubbing bellies of people I DO know let alone ones I don’t know.

Everyone is quick to hand out their advice: Sleep now – you’ll never sleep again … Why didn’t you wait longer to have children? … Life as you know it is now over … (Granted, some people actually hand out some good tips not just ones like these.)

Others ask how far along you are only to respond with ‘Wow you are huge.’ Really!?! I don’t tell you that you have been packing on the pounds lately. No one in their right mind would tell any other woman that she was huge or was going to be huge in the near future unless she was pregnant. But is it really okay to tell her even when she is eatin for two?

Women find it absolutely necessary to share their pregnancy and/or childbirth horror stories. Now while I feel for the fact that you were in labor for 24 hours and still had to have an emergency c-section, I don’t want to hear about it now. Save it for later. Or just save it.

But dealing with The Preggo Craze isn’t too bad. Because I know at the end of this 40 week journey Robert and I will have a beautiful little girl in our life. And she’ll be worth it.

And if not, at least we’ll have the rest of our lives to get even.

Making Up for Lost Time


Wow it has been a while… I guess I have never really been that great at keeping up with this thing. And Robert never updates. Shame on him… :) I have wanted to write and update my VERY small readership on our lives but just haven’t done so. So here is to making up for lost time.

Robert and I are expecting our first child. A sweet baby girl. I am 19 weeks pregnant and am due June 7 (though I hope she debuts earlier). I wish I could say that I feel great and that I have loved every minute of being pregnant. The truth is that it has been hard. Morning sickness is a farce. All day sickness has been my companion for several months. And just when I think I am over it, it decides to revisit. I am enjoying the subtle and sometimes not so subtle movements of our baby girl though. Even though her favorite spot to kick is my now sensitive bladder – I still love it. And we are both perfectly healthy and are growing and expanding right on time. We are so excited to meet our new little addition in what will be just a few more months.

Robert is going back to school to get his teaching certification for high school Spanish. I think he will be the best high school Spanish teacher and that any school will be blessed to have him. And I am working part time subbing in elementary schools and just started tutoring twice a week.

So there you have it. Though this was short – you are now officially updated on our lives.