Not Such a Bad Thing (Part II)

Aug 8th....I arrived at the office where my dr talked with us. She was immensely kind. They had an emergency meeting to discuss my case and had decided I should deliver naturally. They were concerned that surgery and grief and the care of three young children would be too much for me. They also told me that they did not want me to feel pain if at all possible. They would induce me and let me progress until they were sure I was in labor and then we would start the epidural.

We went to the hospital and got settled in a room. We were told that everyone who came in the room would know the situation so we would not have to explain anything.

Our dear pastor came in a number of time or two during the day. I don't remember anyone else coming until much later. Ski and I spent most of the day talking, sometimes crying and an occasional laugh. Little did I know, but this was the beginning of the blessings to come.

We had been there all day and I now had my epidural. I was getting close. Because me epidural was very strong (more medication than usual), I began having incredible itching. A little later, I was close to delivery and a friend, Susan, had stopped by. She worked with moms who gave their babied up for adoption and was very familiar with moms in labor who needed comfort. She was like a refreshing glass of cool water for me. And later at home, she blessed me with gifts and just showered me with love and care.

During delivery, I think I cried the entire time. It was so hard because he was complete breach and so emotionally difficult. It was close to midnight when he finally arrived. He was 8lb 13oz and absolutely beautiful. He looked completely normal and reminded me of my father, who he was named after. Moments later, our pastor arrived for one last visit and he was able to hold and see our handsome son. He was the only person we personally know who saw him on this earth. We spent a few hours with holding our son. And finally, we said goodbye.

I never knew that your eyes could hurt from crying. But I never knew how much grace God would give me to walk through those days. I remember sitting in the restaurant at Mast General Store and crying, unable to eat. I don't remember eating much for about a month. I remember meals coming and Ski handing me plates and crying every other bite. At the same time, I often found myself comforting others and encouraging them.

It was a long and somewhat difficult road. I really can't share everything that was birthed in those hard days. It would take me quite a while and you wouldn't be reading anymore. But these are two....

I learned that God gave me Ski because he compliments me in every way. Our relationship changed in amazing ways. In fact the depth of our relationship is something that I consider the biggest gift that God gave us through the life and death of our son, Asher. What began during those bleak days has become even more precious to me during these past 15 years.

There were a number of trials since then that lead to the next lesson.
But the birth of our son also birthed deep lessons about who God is and what He's doing. I learned that God is always, always, ALWAYS good....even when we can't see it. His plan is greater. His plan is better. He is after more than I can see. He is after my heart. The stuff that happens in my life happens because God is at work and He is doing something amazing. All I have to do is to be faithful and wait awhile. I may not see ALL that he is doing here, but I can trust that it is all good and for my benefit.

What my children have meant to me through suffering and what they learn as they walk through questions of life and death has been precious to me as well. We have walked these roads together and it has impacted their lives. We often have had the occasion to speak about death and how life is so brief and momentary and we never know the number of our days.

The life of my son is such a reminder to me of Christ. I understand differently the sacrifice of a son. And I long even more for a reunion with my Savior than I do for my son. And my children see how their love for their brother, who they have never met, is how our love for Christ is.

So....I don't think it is such a bad thing at all. ;)

Happy birthday, Asher Josiah.
And thank you Lord for giving me so much through the life of my son!!

Not Such a Bad Thing (Part I)

It's funny.
I always thought that grief went away.
But it doesn't.
It just returns to you unexpectedly.

When you toss a stone into a lake, it sends out ripples. Towards the entry point of the stone, the ripples come fast and furious. And then, progressing outwards, they space themselves. Longer and longer grows the distance between the ripples. And more and more time passes, our hearts heal and unexpectedly, the tears come and we grieve again. Not like before. Now, our grief is small and brief as if clouds have come in the midst of an otherwise sunny day. And soon, the sun is shining upon us again.

So today, 15 years later, I found myself sobbing in the cemetery recalling the day my second son was born and the events that followed soon after. Little did I know that in the midst of the deep pain I was experiencing, God was giving me something more.....something better.

It is funny to me that people I have met in the last 10 years have no idea about this part of my life. For a long time, my oldest son used to tell literally everyone he met that he had a brother who died. I always felt badly about the strangers we met in the store who stood there aghast not knowing how to respond. Even now, If I happen to mention it after knowing someone awhile, I immediately get an "I'm sorry." and then usually silence.

But I'm not sorry.

Don't get me wrong. I would give anything to have him here with me. I long to be his mommy, too.

But for what I have gained....I wouldn't change a single thing. In fact, most people find it surprising to know that given the choice, I would do it all over again.....

I knew he had died.

On the evening of Aug 6th, I knew something was wrong, but kept it to myself. On Aug 7th, I woke up and told Ski I needed to go to the dr. When I called them, they told me to come in right away. We had three small children...almost 4, 3, and 2. I was due around Sept. 15. There we sat.....Ski and the three kids and me across the room. They tried the fetal monitor and the nurse was so cheery, but I knew. My dr came in. She was quiet and then "Yes....it's not good."

We learned that our son....we were having another son....had hydrocephalus. But on top of that, he had calcium deposits in his brain. These had probably caused him to have a seizure and he died.

There were concerns. First of all, he was complete breach. The drs wondered if I should deliver naturally or have a c-section. This they needed to discuss. They told me that I could wait to go into labor naturally, but that they did not encourage this. I could go in as soon as the next day to be induced. We should take our time and call them with our decision.

I remember holding it together until we got to the parking garage. And there, looking over the city, melting into Ski's arms into a ball of tears. Somehow, we pulled ourselves together and called someone....I have no idea who....and dropped the kids of....I have no idea where. All I know is that my church friends tended my children for the next few days which were a blur.

The next thing I recall is sitting in a Dairy Queen killing time trying to talk over what we would do. Ski was concerned about what the drs had said about it being very emotionally difficult to wait for natural labor to occur. A dear, sweet man from church happened to come in and spoke with us. I was not ready to talk and we had a "normal conversation" with him. And after trying to remain relatively normal during that conversation and seeing a number of cheerful pregnant women pass by, I came to the conclusion that everyone was right and we would go in the next day to deliver.

We had called our church and everyone was out of town except for one pastor. We went over after hours when he told us he was free and sat there with him until well after 8pm, I think. Over the next few days, he was rarely far from our sides and told us to call him when we needed him. To this day, I have never failed to appreciate the sacrifices both he, his wife and his family made on our behalf. We could have not gone through this without his gentle care and love for us.

I don't know when we arrived home or how I slept that night.

Sweet time spent....

I have full plate of stuff going on right now. So much God is doing in my life. There are no less than 4 things that are weighing heavily on my heart these days. So when I have time with Ski, it is sweet and such a blessing and a time of respite.

We had a date night tonight. We were talking about a lot of things. God is really using the trials of my life to bring us even closer together. Over the past few months, God has really been doing a work in my life and I stand amazed at what He has done!!

We were enjoying sweet and quiet conversation while we sat on a bench this evening in a tree-lined area. After awhile, a male and female cardinal came and sat on a bench across from us. It was obvious they were together. They flitted to and fro and they finally settled on the top of the bench back. After a little, the male dropped down to the seat area. After poking around a little, he returned to the bench back and approached his mate and fed her something into her beak. He repeated this action nearly ten times before she finally flew to the ground in a bush nearby. He soon followed. I learned later that this is mating behavior and that the male will often feed his mate beak to beak. It was a precious sight!!!!

God was so kind to show us this tenderness between birds. It was such a touching moment and we laughed awhile as we watched. I asked them if they were on a date night as well. Obviously, they were. I later discovered that he was feeding her bits of a discarded sandwich crust.

I am so grateful for my dearest husband who cares for me so tenderly as the male cardinal did this evening.

Hello old friend....

Garden Keeper

I grieve...
For all the times I have lied.
Did you wonder if I would ever change?
Did you fret about the snakes and bugs
That lurked when you weren't there?

I wonder...
How much did you really know?
Was the battle for my soul
More clear to you than I could see?
Or was it merely revelation in the passage of time?

It seems...
My life was like my sorry patch of beans.
It did not seem weedy and overgrown.
Till I peeked underneath the shady leaves
And discovered pests and tendrils dwelling there.

Tender...
Although it didn't seem to be
When you poked the leaves and shoots
Revealing disease and parts the insects chewed away
And yearning I would find the sun and rain.

Thank you.
For I know you must have prayed
Weeping...praying...never ending
And I know...you have never given up
Never ceased to love me so well and I...so undeserving.

-rag

*******THIS WORK IS PROPERTY OF THE AUTHOR AND NO REPRODUCTION IS PERMITTED WITHOUT EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM AUTHOR. ALL OTHER USE CONSTITUTES THEFT ********

Do Everything.....for Hannah

Today was a busy day for me. There's a store I like to visit and it is a good distance away. The last few times I went, I took family members with me. But this time...I was alone. Alone time gives me time to think, time to listen to music, and time to pray. Since my ipod is never charged, the music part of it usually ends up being listening to the radio.

Today, a particular song hit me and I am sharing it here for my dear daughter, Hannah. Sorry, girl....I know it isn't either of our styles...in fact, I know we're both slightly cringing inside. It's the words, you know....just listen to those and forget the style and who's singing it. ;)




I know that right now, the things before you seem mundane and challenging. But....God can and does do AMAZING things....even in the mundane. No job He has given you is less important than what He has given to others. God has big plans for you...even in the everyday. He will reward you in your faithfulness and in your joy in what you have to do today.

So....go out and do it to His glory!!!!

My Name Ain't Mary

(Oh....how my English profs would hate to see that.
That's what they get for making me read "Ulysses.")

My mother grew up on a farm....well, actually many farms. Her father was a tenant farmer during the depression. My grandmother was an amazing woman. We share a number of things in common. For one, even though she was a farm wife, my grandfather said that she did her best sleeping in the morning. Haha.... My father and husband know very well that the women descended from her also do their best sleeping in the morning. They've tried to wake us up!!! Another thing he always said about her was that she could stretch dollar farther than anyone else he knew. I think I fall short in this area, but I try hard. She was an amazing cook. Boy, did she have a gift!! Ask anyone who ate at her table and I am sure they would agree. But one thing I am SURE I did not inherit was her ability to grow things. She grew the biggest flowers I have ever seen in my life. I loved to go out and look at her garden and marvel at those flowers.

My first attempt at plants was at the knee of my other grandmother...aptly named Flora. She grew large and beautiful peony plants. Bushels of bluebells and daffodils...which she encouraged us to pick to deliver to our ever grateful teachers. And almost without fail, she sent me home with an African violet.

This grandmother lived in a house that was built before the American Revolution. It was gorgeous!! The windows were incredibly deep. And in the windows, among the sparkling cranberry, milk, and carnival glass, were nestled delicate and flowering violets. When she felt I was old enough, she told me how to care for these plants. She told me how to water only from the base. She taught me how to root a leaf. I listened and went home with high expectations. But almost without fail, when she asked me how my plant was doing, I'd hang my head in shame, refusing to meet her eyes as I had to admit that it had died.

At least my uncle must have learned a thing or two from her. He grew baskets full of all kinds of veggies in a seemingly tiny plot of land. Every year, he grew giant ears of corn, beets, tomatoes, beans, kholorabi, and more!! He was always giving things away from his garden.

Convinced that I had not acquired a green thumb from either of my gardening grandmothers, I asked my mother for a cactus. I was sure I would succeed. But once again...it died. Yes, folks....I have killed a cactus. So ended my foray into plants.

When we bought our first home, vines grew. Trees grew...and fell. Grass grew. And....while the yard was too shady for a garden, I tried to grow a thing or two. I think I grew five beans in total. Even back then, it wasn't enough for our family. I planted some black eyed susans not long before we moved. I'm not sure if they ever grew back. However, I did plant some zinnias in the front yard. Ah....I figured out that Lilliput meant small. You's think someone who has a BA in literature would know that. Even though I was disappointed in their size, they seeded and came back the next year!! I also planted Sweet William by the walk. It amazed me by appearing for three years in a row!

The first thing I planted here was probably cilantro. I don't know why. We're not big fans. But the caterpillars that found it munched happily on it and turned into pretty butterflies. I planted a rosemary in its place. Unfortunately, I didn't realize how big they can grow. It is still alive and growing, but I keep it trimmed very small.

I dug out an overgrown bush that I didn't like I plopped down Black eyed susan again. They seemed to work before. I put more by the mailbox. A few years later, my mother in law planted a clematis. Halfway through it's first summer, it took a turn for the worse and I thought it had died. I just left it there hoping...maybe....and then I discovered that the new growth grows on the dead growth. Lots of patience and it has grown!!! I am always so pleased every spring to find huge purple bud on my plant.

Two springs ago, I decided I wanted something pretty outside my dining room window. A bush I tried to plant, finally died -- a victim of teenage boys and balls. I needed a tall plant so I chose purple cone flowers. I didn't have tons of money so I planted some seeds. When they were a good size, I transferred them to my pathetic little plot. About this time, a neighbor gave me a few cannas. I planted them all along my window. To my amazement, they have flourished there enjoying the full sun. Now, I can open my curtains and watch the bees and butterflies come and visit my flowers.

Finally,for the past few years, I have had a vegetable garden. I use a large plot of raised bed because the soil is yucky here. I also use containers to enlarge my garden. It is modest. Nothing like my uncle's. I definitely don't have his talents and gifts. But things are growing!! I walk out there twice a day and I am never disappointed. I always am finding something new. New growth. New flowers. I've bought some plants. Others, I planted from seed. I am utterly amazed that from a tiny seed, a plant with twisting vines and fruit emerges. And I've learned which sprouts are my plants and which ones are weeds. I don't care all that much how much it produces. It is just fun to watch it all grow.

I don't think I will ever be a master gardener....or even an accomplished one. But I am proof that even if you don't think you're capable of growing things, that just maybe you can. And in case you were wondering, the first two pictures aren't mine, but the rest is. I will never be Mary who, for the life of me, I cannot understand why she is so contrary. And if it weren't for the bugs, I might just become addicted to growing things.

I think my grandmothers would be pleased!!

Natty and the Japanese Dinner

We had a meeting tonight and I haven't had a moment to breathe let alone get grocery shopping done. We have nothing quick in the house for all 8 of us. Christelle was staying home with the younger three so they had some food to fix. So Ski, Natty, Hannah and I grabbed dinner out.

We stopped at a favorite date night haunt. It is a Japanese place. Hannah and Natty both decided to try the sushi. Natty tried to decide between two and I encouraged him to try the non-spicy roll and maybe try a spicy one another time. When the girl brought the order, he got a little excited. He asked the girl if she was Japanese. He's been learning Japanese on his own and wants to try it out on someone. Turns out both girls are Laotian and no on in the place is actually Japanese. He was a little disappointed. But later, he took to attempting to read the plates.

Just after we started eating, Natty picked up the blob of wasabi that was sitting on his rolls and popped it in his mouth. David was about to say something, but it all happened to fast. When I looked up, Nathaniel was making all kinds of funny faces.

I said, "Eat some rice!"

Being Nathaniel and somewhat deliberate, he poked around the rice with his chopsticks.

I said, "Grab a fork!!!" As he is ripping the silverware package open, I realized he wasn't opening his mouth.

I said, "Did you swallow it?"
He shook his head.
"Well then SPIT IT OUT!!!!"
Apparently, he was going to just eat it and swallow it so as not to disgust the rest of us by spitting it out.

Finally he had got it out and ate some rice and took a drink. It was seriously a repeat of his Chemistry class when he got a chemical burn and wondered what he should do.....while his hand BURNED!!! At least he keeps us in stitches.

Next time, I think he can try the spicy roll. It can't be worse than a mouthful of wasabi!!