This entire past month life has been more than a bit crazy. We’ve had two recent trips to the ER for two different kids for two completely unrelated issues. If you follow along on my Facebook you’ve likely seen the photos and updates of the kids throughout this past month.
Corban broke out with a severe allergic reaction to something that we are still unsure about. He’s had some lab tests done to see if we can find out what’s going on, but the first results only led to more questions so we had to go back in for more testing.
Then, only a few days later Crew took a huge fall on his scooter. He was trying to go super fast down a huge hill on one of our bike paths to gain enough speed to get up the next hill. His wheels somehow swerved and he (as one of the other boys said later) “flew through the air!” His helmet had slid back which meant his head took the full impact on the concrete.
Matt called me right away to come pick them all up and we hurried him to the closest urgent care with him on my lap. The staff there called an ambulance and rushed us to the nearest children’s hospital. The staff looked him over, checked all of his vitals and concluded that whatever “god” I pray to must hear me. I couldn’t agree more.
The ER doctor said that he is one extremely lucky boy to not have cracked his skull or any bones in his face.
Thankfully, we were sent home that same day with a few warnings to give him all of the ice cream he wanted and to keep him off his scooter for the next 5 weeks, which he’s real happy about….poor kiddo just wants to get back on.
A few days before all of this chaos with the boys began I had started noticing that I was feeling a bit “off.” I recognized the symptoms…cuz…well…we’ve been here before…but didn’t say anything to anyone about it. While I was at the pharmacy picking up medicine for Corban, I decided to just go ahead and grab a pregnancy test. I took it home and right away went upstairs to take it. I sat it down on the floor and then left it alone to check on the kids. When I came up to look at it, I was shocked to see that the test showed two little pink lines.
I was shocked. I mean thoroughly shocked. I’ve been playfully hoping and asking Matt for one more baby for awhile now, but had always wondered how I’d really respond if that day ever came. Matt’s been saying no, because life is just crazy enough at this point…and I can’t say that I disagree. It IS crazy and having another baby really doesn’t make any sort of practical sense.
But…what surprised me the most (besides the initial shock that the test was positive of course) was how genuinely excited I was. I saw those little lines and there was immediate laughter! I didn’t question, or doubt…I didn’t freak out at all. For whatever reason there was a stillness…peace…and pure joy!
Right away I began thinking of ideas of how I’d tell Matt. I didn’t want to overwhelm him right in the middle of taking care of the other kids massive health needs, so I kept the exciting news all bottled up in my heart.
Late at night when the house was dark and quiet and my thoughts were all to myself I’d let my mind wander toward little dreams of what the gender might be, baby names, nursery decor and how to share the news with friends and family. I quietly thanked the Lord over and over and over again for the sweet little miracle and especially…for making it a surprise.
But all of that ended a few days later when I began to massively bleed. With the pain and extreme tiredness I knew right away what was happening. It may have been an emotional time anyway, given the build up of what had been happening with the other two boys…but with that last blow of knowing I was losing a baby I just wanted to crawl into a hole.
I finally broke down and shared everything with Matt. Since he didn’t even know to begin with it all was a whirlwind of a story for him to fully grasp.
And honestly it has been for me too.
There was something so sweet initially about keeping it all in at first, but I realize now that staying so private about these kinds of things can really lend to feeling isolated and alone…like just the shell of me is interacting with people. My body is there, but my heart and mind are completely elsewhere.
If I’m honest I’ve been randomly crying. When I do the dishes or when I’m driving the kids around running errands. It’s as though my body keeps telling me to grieve. It’s sort of tough to do that when there’s so much holiday joy and activity and anticipation with the Christmas season…there’s a part of me that has honestly considered just putting on hold “feeling” anything until after the New Year.
But that’s impossible isn’t it? To wait to feel. Forcing myself to grow numb doesn’t sound like it would end in any good way.
I’ve been a bit fearful of sharing this here. There’s a part of my soul that still wants to keep it in just to avoid having to talk about it. Somehow I still think that’s easier. And sharing things like this is hard too because you never know what the response will be. It’s likely tempting to not think of a miscarriage or loss as a big deal since I already have so many kids. But to me, it matters. To me, it’s a season of grief and it’s a loss no matter how many children there have been before this one.
But what I think matters more than those hesitations is the comfort in knowing so many of you can relate as you’ve gone through something similar. I know by letting this be something I’m open about it becomes a way where we can share our stories as well as our hope together.
Overall, I really am doing well. Honestly. I am. I have moments where a flood of sadness comes over me, but the overarching feeling is one of thankfulness. I am so grateful for my family…and especially for those sweet little moments alone during those quiet nights knowing my precious secret. I’ll forever cherish and hold those memories close. And I’m also so thankful for this Christmas season and what it is we are truly celebrating.
This is our second time through this and I’ll do as we’ve done before, which is trust the Lord will continue to bring healing and peace. I’ve been learning all year about the word abide…and once again I’m continually reminded of Job 1:21, the Lord gives and the Lord takes away…blessed be His name…He is a good God who is near to the brokenhearted.