web stat counter
I have enjoyed reading The Simple Woman's Daybook on my mother-in-law's blog for quite some time. I thought I might give it a try...I sure hope she doesn't mind! If you would like to read some other women's Daybooks visit The Simple Woman's Daybook.

Outside my window... it is dark and cold but I’m happy knowing that spring is just around the corner.

I am thinking... God is good.

I am thankful for... a wonderful husband who loves me unconditionally.

From the learning rooms... preparing for new math skills for my son.

From the kitchen... Not sure what to fix with the pound of hamburger I have thawed in the fridge.

I am wearing... peace from my heavenly Father.

I am creating... a new verse to put on our living room wall. My parents are joining us for lunch today, and then we will work together to create this new reminder of faith.

I am going... to stay home all day tomorrow.

I am reading... Shame Lifters, by Marilyn Hontz.

I am hoping... and praying that God will bless us soon with a new baby.

I am hearing... the hum of the corn stove, and my husband asking if he can interrupt me again. J

Around the house... it is very clear to me that it is time for spring cleaning. I’m ready to air the house out and get rid of these nasty cobwebs.

One of my favorite things... is the comfort of my husband’s arm around me as we sit in church and the sound of my children’s voices singing praise songs at church.

A few plans for the rest of the week: Lunch with my parents today. Bible study on Tuesday. Lunch with a hurting friend on Wednesday. Lunch with a few ladies from church on Thursday along with music lessons for my son. Friday is braiding hair day…YUCK!

Here is picture thought I am sharing...

One of the little Haitian girls whose hair I braid.
A couple of weeks ago I wrote about my efforts in trying to adopt my daughter from Haiti. Once I had gotten to the part in the story of finding Phebe I wanted to post some pictures. I was saddened to find out that all of the pictures of Phebe in Haiti have been lost. I’ve been so upset about it; I didn’t want to finish her story without them. A friend of mine told me that I need to be thankful I have Phebe and that the pictures are just material items. She was right.


Monday morning came and we decided that we needed to get a few things for Weedlyn in case her grandpa decided I could keep her. Shopping in Haiti is nothing like running into town to the local Wal-Mart. There are people everywhere and the traffic is crazy. Horns honking, people yelling. Everything seems very chaotic. Elia would hold my hand as we walked along in case she needed to pull me out of the way of a speeding vehicle. It was really something. We were looking for formula and diapers and maybe a couple of outfits. We went to at least a half a dozen stores but weren't able to find any of those items. We went back to Elia’s house and Linda dropped the baby off and said her dad had not made it in yet. Elia went back into town to see what she could find.

Little Weedlyn had quite a cough. I felt sorry for her as she would try to catch her breath after a coughing attack. Elia came back with a bottle, a little red dress and cough medicine. She thought when I said formula I meant medicine. So we were quite worried knowing that if I could take this baby up the mountain the next day we had nothing to feed her. We could have formula brought in from America but it would take a week or two. Linda stopped by a few more times to nurse Weedlyn and then she would leave.

That evening a lot of Elia’s family came to visit. We were all sitting behind the house in the cool of the evening talking and laughing. Well, they were talking and laughing. I had no idea what was being said most of the time. Once in awhile I would have Rebecca translate for me, but I always felt bad that she had to do that. After awhile a man came and sat down and joined in on the conversation. I asked who he was but Rebecca didn’t know. She soon figured out it was the baby’s grandpa. She said that they were telling him about me wanting to adopt Weedlyn. I sat there holding this little baby girl pleading with the Lord that this would be His will. The grandpa asked Linda why she hadn’t given me the baby already. They talked for a few minutes and soon Rebecca turned to me, smiled, and said, “You’ve got yourself a baby.” Everyone started clapping and laughing. I just stared at this precious little baby and cried. I remember saying, “Merci! Merci! Merci beaucoup!” Rebecca asked me what I was going to name her. I had a name all ready for her. Phebe Louise.

When everyone left that night I went to hand Phebe to her mother so she could feed her through the night. Linda shook her head and said, “She’s your baby now.” I was a bit shocked but decided I better figure out what I was going to do. All we had to feed her was sugar water. By the next morning she was quite hungry and everyone in the neighborhood knew about it. Phebe had quite a pair of lungs on her. Just as the sun was coming up Linda knocked on the door wanting to feed her…praise the Lord! She held her and fed her all that morning. It was then time to meet Brother Wall at the airport. So we hopped on a Tap Tap and headed to the airport. Elia and Rebecca climbed in the bed of this little pickup with about 15 Haitians. They decided to put me in the cab because I had the baby. I sat in this little tiny cab with three Haitian men who had never heard of deodorant. Ahhhh the sweet smells of Haiti. When we finally made it to Brother Wall we were thrilled. He…not so much. I think he was a bit shocked about the baby. He had already been in town to do the shopping so he was not about to go back and look for formula. He ended up needing something so we were able to look in a few more stores, but found nothing. We finally headed up the mountain and contacted Mrs. Wall to tell her about the baby. She had evaporated milk at the house and we diluted that until we were able to find some formula.

The first night was very difficult. Phebe’s cough had gotten much worse. We fixed a bed for her in an old trunk. She looked so precious as she fell asleep. It didn’t last long. Every time I would lie her down she would start to cough. The coughing was so bad she couldn’t catch her breath. Mrs. Wall came running in the room the first time this happened and was able to get her breathing again. I finally ended up sleeping in a chair for a couple of nights holding her upright so she could breathe.

I’m amazed how God allowed me to find Phebe. Out of all the thousands of children He directed me to her. I have wondered many times how it all came together so beautifully. It’s only by His grace! Thank you Lord for giving me such a beautiful daughter and may I love her as you love me!

Phebe a few weeks after I found her...
I love to hear her laugh...
Phebe and me...
Phebe and her Grandpa...

I would have never guessed that filling out a survey on my stay in the hospital would be so painful. One of the questions – Did you have enough time to bond with your baby? Yes or No…NO, I DID NOT HAVE ENOUGH TIME TO BOND WITH MY BABY!!!

I was thinking today about our last day with Uriah. How I wish I could redo that day. Not that I would change much, but I just want to hold him and kiss him again. Looking back I recall holding him and wishing I was alone with him. I’m very thankful for all my family and friends that shared the day with us. It’s just that when so many people are watching you hold your baby for the first and last time you really can’t get all that comfy. I wanted to talk to him but I felt silly talking to him in front of everyone. I told him I loved him but that was all. There were so many things I wanted to share with him, to teach him, to sing to him. I can’t believe I never sang to him. This makes me so sad.

My parents held him. When I first asked them to join us they didn’t want to be in the room. Not long after we had gone to the private room they came knocking on the door. I’m so glad they did…precious memories. Soon it was time to take Uriah off of the respirator. They brought him to me. His breathing was so labored. I instantly remembered being with a friend of mine who had three babies that passed away shortly after birth. One of the hardest things was listening to them gasp for air. I had asked God back then to never let that happen to me. Now here I was faced with that awful sound. I thought my husband probably wanted to hold Uriah, but I couldn’t let him go. I tried to place Uriah on Jesse’s lap while continuing to hold him. After about half an hour I was sure he was gone. You could no longer hear him breathing, but when the doctor checked he still had a heartbeat. Dr. Knee came back about ten minutes later and little Uriah had left us. Although I’m so sad that Uriah never saw us I’m thrilled that the first time he saw anyone it was our Lord and Savior!

Everyone started to trickle out of the room to go home. Jesse and I were finally alone with our son. I can’t speak for Jesse but I didn’t want to ever have to leave. Even though I knew Uriah was no longer with us I didn’t want to let him go. We stayed and held him and talked and laughed and cried for another four hours. When we finally left the hospital I could hardly take the pain. I didn’t want Jesse to see me cry anymore so I held it all in, but it was harder to walk out of the hospital without Uriah than to hear him take his last breath. No mother should have to leave the hospital without her baby.

The pain is lessening but it is still so strong at times I feel it might overtake me. It’s a pain that you can’t describe. I had a woman say to me, shortly after Uriah died, that she knew exactly how I felt. This woman doesn’t have any children. She has no clue how I feel. There are many people that do know how I feel and I hate it for them. I wish now I would have been more caring and thoughtful when friends of mine lost their babies.

Uriah is buried in a cemetery about a quarter of a mile down the road. I don’t believe he can hear me, but every time I pass the cemetery I tell him I love him. Sometimes I’ll say, “What do you think, Oliver?” Oliver is the nickname my dad gave him. While I was pregnant I would ask “Oliver” that very question. Sometimes he would kick as if to answer me. Now there is no kicking…no answer at all. I miss him terribly.

I realize that many of you are waiting to hear the rest of Uriah’s story and also the story of God finding Phebe for me. Before I continue with those I feel that I must share what God just revealed to me.

Many times since Uriah died I have worried that people are confused by my smile. I’ve talked to my husband about it and tell him I’m afraid that people may think I am no longer grieving Uriah’s death because I’m seemingly always smiling.

I tend to smile a lot!!! I remember as a child I smiled all the time. I was happy and felt that I had the best childhood. Even into my early adult life I always had a smile on my face. Then in my late twenties some really horrible things happened in my life and I didn’t know how to cope with them. I tried to give these things to the Lord, but then I would snatch them back and try to figure it all out on my own. During this time I continued to smile but that smile wasn’t real. I was only smiling because that’s what everyone expected of me. I have struggled with the fear of disappointing people since I was a child. I felt at this time in my life I had disappointed everyone around me. So the least I could do was give them that famous ‘Hannah smile’.

I hated smiling because I knew it was a big fat lie. It seemed to me that people may know that it was a lie, but they wanted to believe it to be the truth…Hannah’s happy, look at that smile. I was so unhappy for ten years. I craved happiness and peace. I longed to be loved by people and God. I envied others around me because I assumed them to be living a life of peace, happiness, love and truth.

On November 15, 2009, I heard a message that finally made me realize that God loved me. I had convinced myself that He didn’t. I had told myself for ten years that there was no way that God could love me! I believed that He loved everyone…just not me. So when I finally understood the truth that God did love me just as much as He loved His son Jesus I finally had peace in my life again. I could accept that not only did God love me, but so did my friends and family. I had been telling myself that my children only “loved” me because they had to. My parents only “loved” me out of obligation. My friends didn’t really “love” me; they just tolerated me. So when I finally accepted God’s love I could accept the love from people. I can’t begin to tell you what peace I had in my heart because of this truth!

When Uriah died my biggest fear was that I would grow bitter again and not have the peace from the Lord any longer. I was terrified that this would happen. I realize that it has only been a month since Uriah went home to be with the Lord, but I still have God’s peace. Not only do I have His peace, but also I still KNOW that He loves me. God didn’t “do” this to me because I did something wrong. God loves me and loves Uriah even more than I do. I pray that no one takes what I’m about to say wrong. I would much prefer Uriah to be in Heaven and have the peace of God than to have Uriah here with me without God’s peace. Don’t get me wrong - I crave to hold my son and love him and watch him grow into a wonderful godly man. However, I can look forward to seeing him someday. I cannot live without God’s peace!