Let Me Take You On A Journey....

Hi, everyone! 
Today we went and picked Marla's "munkins" on for Halloween carving adventures. It was faaaareeezing, so bundled in snow pants, hats, and mittens she went. The cold didn't
seem to bother her half as much as me, but we had that horrible misty rain as well. I wish I had pictures to share, but I'm on my mother's computer so you will have to wait! And I wish it would've been warmer,because even in the the cold and rain she had a blast.

Okay. Time to get heavy. Time for a trip through my brain lately...
Caution: I have been emotional and I just can't stop thinking, thinking, thinking....

Very very soon my brother in law will be welcoming home their newest bundle of joy. A sweet little girl. Two Junes ago, they lost their precious son, so I am over the moon excited for them to take home a happy healthy baby and get to experience those fun first weeks of no sleep and delightfin diaper changes of moosh. Hehe. But really, I couldn't be happier or more excited for them.
As you know, Me and my hubby also lost our son this April. My brother in law and his wife will be delivering in Lockport, where I painfully delivered our lifeless son. The same place me and my husband walked out of the front door to be never the same again...
I am by no means a selfish person. I love helping other and seeing others smiles, most times ahead of my own... I know that's the way God calls us to be. But friends... As we joyfully anticipate the birth of their little girl, Violet, my heart skips beats just thinking about being in that hospital. I want to be there. I will be there. God will be my strength. But I just have to be honest... I am freaking out inside! Every time I think about it or try and "practice" being strong or try to envision them in their little maternity room, I have these out of body experiences where I'm just staring across the hall into the room where I began the grieving of my son (Yes, I delivered Nathaniel next to woman birthing healthy happy bundles of joy. As I listened to their baby's precious cries, the only crying that came from my room was my own). The room where part of me was carried up to Heaven with him, and left an empty space inside of me. Now don't be mistaken. My room was filled up the the ceiling with the Holy Spirit. God was so real you could almost tangibly touch him for those seven hours... But when everyone left, Rob and I were just two broken parents trying to help each other stand up from that hospital bed and hand our tiny son over to strangers in blue scrubs.
Two thoughts I remind my self daily...
1. God alone is my strength and salvation and I can do all things through Him.
2. There is not two people on this earth that understand the things I'm feeling now more than Tony and Vanessa do.
October is baby loss and miscarriage awareness month, which makes me think of my boy even more. I have not cried so hard or shouted at God with such sadness than I have lately since we lost him in April.
You see, I'm the "crazy Christian girl" around town and my family, so because of my faith, I have been able to grieve in pretty healthy ways and have jumped right into helping other people. But being a believer is sad and lonely and frustrating sometimes, and you'd be lieing if you didn't agree.
 The not so nice thing about being a believer is that sometimes people think you're invincible or that you don't hurt. But I hurt as great as any grieving mother, I just have the hope of seeing my baby again, someday. When I lost him, I was so confused that after only a couple days the phone calls stopped but a rare couple of people and I was left alone, trying to smile in front of my daughter when I really just wanted to burt my face in the floor and scream. My  husband worked ninety hour weeks and slept out of his truck at his jobs and I paced the house all night crying and yelling as my daughter slept. I have never felt so close to god yet sot trapped by satan in my life. I never want to go back to that place again. Going back to that place would be a CHOICE, which is why I'm writing this now...
I rarely present my greatest struggles publicly. I was trained not to as a child and now as an adult, I most often keep them with God.
But I'm asking for prayer. For both Vanessa and me. Because I know as happy as they are, they still lost their baby, too...
I am so honored to have the testimony I have, but some days I just have to cry a little.
I think that's good for anybody, whatever the circumstance.
And if we don't be honest with each other and stand strong with each other as the body of Christ than how can we call ourselves believers? How can we claim to love God if we can't love each other first??

So as I cry in my healing brokenness, I'm also shedding tears for every other mother who knows these same feelings... I will stand in the love of Jesus at that hospital in expectation of Violet's pure beauty and in remembrance of my son.
And please pray for an easy delivery for Vanessa as our family waits for little Violet.


And I must end on a happy note, because that's just who I am...

I cannot wait to hug this one nurse in particular. This beautiful and brave women stood at my side as they painfully scraped away Nathaniel's placenta from my uterus. She held my hand and told me how strong and brave I was, while I was thinking the exact same thing as her. She was the strong and brave one. She was a complete stranger but she supported me more deeply than some of my own family. She made me laugh when the tears wouldn't stop rolling off my cheeks. I cannot wait to see her. Maybe I should make her something...
And I know this is getting very long, but I have to tell you that as ugly as the past I came out of is, none of it compares to losing my boy. But nothing in my life today is more beautiful and true than the grace and understand of my Heavenly Father, the love my husband has for me, the giggles I bring my sweet little angel daughter, and the presence of my son hovering over me every single day.

Blessings <3