Hannah's Simple Thoughts

Asher's Milk

2012-01-16T21:56:00.021-05:00

Have you ever had anyone do something for you that you could never repay the favor? I have been in that predicament for the last year. I am so thankful that I can’t even express my gratitude.

My last baby, Asher, was born the end of October of 2010. One thing that I had looked forward to the most was breastfeeding my son.

My first time feeding Asher Oliver in the NICU.

Uriah, his brother, died 10 months before that. One of the most difficult aspects of his death was that I was never able to feed him. I had pumped colostrum for him, but he was never able to use it. Not only did I go through the grief of losing my son, but then I had to suffer the physical pain of “drying up.” I remember at his funeral that I was in so much pain from this I couldn’t think.

Anyway, I was truly looking forward to feeding my next baby. He was a preemie so I was not able to breastfeed him until he was a week old. I had been pumping up to that point but, as I found out later, not often enough. I should have been pumping every couple of hours. Instead, if someone came to visit I didn’t want to be rude and leave for ½ hour. So I would wait for them to leave, and then the nurses would tell me that the doctors would soon be making their rounds and I wouldn’t want to miss that so I would put it off. I had no clue this would affect my supply. After being in the hospital a week we headed home. He was nursing very well. I was so excited.

After being home a couple of days I could tell he wasn’t getting enough. He wanted to nurse all the time. He wouldn’t even wait 15 minutes between feeds. If I tried to express my milk there was none. I had nursed my first son 11 years prior. He had also ALWAYS been hungry so I supplemented with formula. I also worked full time back then with quite a bit of overtime. I was too nervous to take my pump to work (State Prison) so I would just wait until I got home to try to pump. Every time I tried to pump I couldn’t get a drop. Even after working 16 hours straight I would get nothing. He still loved to nurse, but I honestly don’t believe he ever got much of mommy’s milk. When he was 4 months old I gave up.

So here I was 11 years later with a bit more knowledge of the importance of nursing. Asher LOVED to eat, but was eating practically around the clock. At 2 weeks of age he went in for his first doctor’s visit. He had not gained an ounce. I knew then that we had a problem. My hubby and I had done quite a bit of reading on how bad formula can be for a baby. I felt absolutely awful. Why couldn’t I feed my baby? I read all of the books, websites, and talked to multiple lactation consultants. No matter what I did I couldn’t build my supply. I even tried a prescription…to no avail.

When we left the NICU he weighed 5#. A week later he still weighed 5#.

I had heard some staff members at the hospital talking about donated milk. I can only imagine the look on my face when I overheard this. Seriously? People actually use other moms’ milk? The thought of this totally grossed me out. After getting home from the doctor’s office that day I decided to do a bit more research on this. There was a local milk bank, but they charged $9 an ounce. Eek! I found a lady on Facebook from Canada, Emma Kwasnica, who had started a type of “Meals on Wheels” for babies. It was actually called “Eats on Feets” at the time. There was so much wonderful information on this site and I seriously started considering it. My hubby and I ended up calling Emma in Canada…a rather expensive phone call, by the way. She was crazy helpful. She not only explained the benefits of the milk, but the benefits of continuing to breastfeed. So Jesse went out and bought us a supplemental nursing system (SNS). The SNS ended up bringing me to tears so many times that I gave up after a few weeks. It was so funny…there is a breastfeeding center at our local hospital. I called them in tears over the SNS once and they had me come in. Of course, for that feeding Asher latched on EVERY single time without a single solitary problem. I went home all excited. Started the next feeding and he refused….yet again.

I immediately hooked up with two wonderful milk mommies. I sit here crying at my computer just thinking about what they sacrificed to feed my son. We have had over 15 milk mommies who donated. Some moms lived so close we were able to use the milk before it was frozen. Some moms I couldn’t get a ton of info on so we would pasteurize their milk. I remember getting up in the night to pasteurize milk. Yes, I would much rather just have rolled over and nursed my son, but sometimes we don’t always get what we want. Instead I would nurse him for a total of 40 minutes and then pasteurize and then feed him his bottle. This was every 2 hours around the clock for many, many weeks.

He burped like a pro. His brother was so proud!

At his following appointments he was always in the 50th percentile for weight.

My son was able to use, almost exclusively, breast milk for the first 14 months of life. To me that is an absolute miracle. He has tons of antibodies he would have never gotten. He has tasted a variety of foods. By the way the old wives tale of babies not being able to tolerate certain foods was totally proven false to me through this experience. He never once had a single tummy ache from someone’s milk. He’s been protected from illnesses, infections, allergies, obesity, and so much more. We have traveled all over Michigan, and even Indiana to get milk. We even received milk from a lady from California, when she visited family in Michigan.

Here I am all these months later not having a clue how to thank these moms. Not only did they sit and feed their own babies, but they also sat and pumped for mine. Can you even imagine the amount of time this took? Every single one of these ladies was a stranger, except for one. They didn’t know me or my baby from Adam. Yet, they were willing to bring nourishment and love to my son. Isn’t that amazing?

I’m praying with all my heart that I will be able to feed my own baby next time, but if not I’ll know what to do. Thank you milk mommies for your sacrifice, your empathy, and mostly for loving my son!

A couple of my awesome milk moms.

Uriah...year 2

2012-01-05T20:16:00.003-05:00

I can’t believe two years have passed since you’ve been in my arms.
It seems like only yesterday we turned off those alarms.

You felt so warm and heavy as you nestled in real near.
I knew the end was coming fast; my heart was full of fear.
I’d thought so often, for 40 weeks, about what you’d be like.
I figured you’d look like your dad, and act like mom for spite.

You did look like your daddy how you act we still don’t know,
but I suspect you’re full of spunk and put on quite the show.

We miss you more than words can say, and wish that you were here.
It seems there’s something missing and that something’s you my Dear.

I try to think about what you’d be like on earth.
Walking, talking, running too, and filling us with mirth.

Your sister’s an adult now and a beautiful young woman.
Your brother Abner’s growing tall and always full of fun.

Your little brother, Asher, has been a healing balm.
The Lord knew what we needed to feel a peaceful calm.

I wish with all my heart I could hold you on my knee,
and make you giggle, sing you songs, and fill your heart with glee.

I know you’re happy where you are and I won’t take that from you.
It’s just I miss you baby boy, and wish I were there too.

The time will come someday I know and we will be together.
The giggles, songs, and silliness will then last for forever.

I love you Uriah my little boy you’ll always be.
You’ll never know the peace and love that you have given me.

Remembering Uriah

2012-01-03T23:06:00.003-05:00

Throughout the day today I have thought back to what was happening at that particular time 2 years ago. Waking up feeling little Uriah have strange hiccups. I remember the contractions starting, the epidural, giving birth, and the silence when Uriah was delivered. Oh how I hate remembering the silence. It’s not that I needed someone to say anything, or that I needed to talk. I needed to hear my baby cry. It never happened though.

I remember going into shock and my body shaking uncontrollably for 2 hours straight. I remember being wheeled into the NICU to see my son. I remember the sounds of the monitors, the hush of the staff working with him, how he smelled, and how he needed to be cleaned up. I asked the nurse if I could clean him. She told me it would be too much stimulation. She said I could touch him, but not to rub or pat him…again, too much stimuli. He felt so cold. I remember pulling my hand away. The nurse explained that they were lowering his body temperature in hopes of bringing back some brain activity. I remember the silence of the nurse when I asked if I should pump milk for him. Her silence told me the truth of what was really happening. I remember being scared, I remember wanting to run. I wanted to run far, far away. I didn’t want to be in that room with that cold baby. I asked to be taken to my room.

My room…not what I had envisioned. As they wheeled me into the room I saw what looked like a postcard on my door. The picture was of a green leaf with a teardrop in the middle. I didn’t know what it meant. I learned later it meant that I had a baby that had either died or was going to die. I remember the silence of my room. I could hear people talking and sniffling in other rooms, but no babies. I couldn’t hear the squeaky cries of a newborn. I remember the sadness. At that time I decided I wouldn’t go back. I couldn’t bear to see my baby that way. I wanted to remember him as I had dreamt about him, not as he was. Not with tubes and wires and needles. Not with dried gunk all over his body. I couldn’t figure out what I had done wrong. Why was this happening? This was not what I was supposed to be feeling.

My friend came to encourage me. She unfortunately understood how I was feeling. She knew what I NEEDED to do. She hauled my rear-end back to that NICU. I will never be able to thank her enough. She told me I needed to make memories…she was right. By the time I went to bed that night I was one hopeful mommy. I had pumped milk for my baby. I had prayed for my baby. I knew my God was the Great Physician. I KNEW he could heal Uriah. I went to bed with hope in my heart.

When I pray I try to always say, “Lord I only want this if this is what You want.” It’s a very difficult thing to say and mean. That day 2 years ago was the most difficult it had ever been.

Have you ever looked through a keyhole in an old house? Imagine for a minute peering through that hole. Can you see that huge king size bed with silk sheets and draperies hanging from the four huge bedposts? What about that ginormous garden tub in the corner surrounded by plants and candles? The little reading nook in the back is so unique. There are pillows everywhere and books lining the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. The sunshine streaming through the windows makes you wonder if you want to take a nap in its warmth or read a book by its light. Isn’t it beautiful? I could spend a month in there without ever wanting to leave…especially if my favorite foods were delivered. ;o) The problem lies in our view. It’s only through that stinkin’ keyhole.

God looks from above and can see the bedbugs lying in wait for a warm body. He sees the mold under the paint that will cause our lungs to burn. He hears the rats as they run through the walls. He knows this is not the room for us. He loves us too much to give us a room like that. So he steers us away. Some of us cling to that doorknob as if our life depends on it. Some of us look back longingly. Some of us follow reluctantly. Some of us run to follow Him. I will admit right now. I didn’t run to follow Him, but I knew whatever He decided was what was best for me. Why? Because He loves me completely. I don’t know what Uriah’s future on earth may have been. What if it was full of pain? I would much rather he was safely in heaven with my Savior waiting for me, than to have him suffer at all on this earth. Why? Because I love him completely. The best thing in all of this is I get to spend eternity with him. Not only that, but I now have another little boy that would have NEVER been had Uriah lived. Oh, Asher is such a joy! Yes, he is a typical 1 year old that makes me want to pull my hair out at times, but he is exactly what I needed. He is exactly what my Father wanted me to have. He is my hope.

Sorry I needed to vent!!!!!

2011-11-20T23:35:00.002-05:00

I have to vent.

I’m tired.

I’m tired of not getting answers.

I’m tired of people not caring.

I’m tired of my poor daughter being in pain.

I’m tired of the medical field not doing anything to change this.

What do I need to do?

With whom do I need to talk?

I will not give up.

I will find a way to help her get better.

Tonight my friend and neighbor stopped by to give me a gift. I also babysit for her two days a week. She is a nurse at the hospital Phebe was in this last week. She worked Thursday and would stop by Phebe’s room to check on her, and then would text me to let me know how Phebe was doing. Adrienne is an absolute angel. She knew I couldn’t get up to see Phebe so she wanted to keep me informed. After she left this evening Phebe said, “I know dat voice. She da nice lady.”

I said, “Yes, Adrienne IS very nice. We love her.”

Phebe replied, “She da only one who nice to me when you not there in hopital.”

My daughter has the mind of a 2 year old. Yes, she is in the body of an 18 year old, but that doesn’t change the fact that her mind isn’t. Can someone please explain to me why you wouldn’t treat her kindly? Three of the four days she was there she couldn’t even lift her head. It wasn’t until the last day that she was able to sit up and start talking again. So why not just treat her kindly? She wasn’t hurting anyone. She wasn’t being abusive. She wasn’t swearing or throwing things. She just had a hard time moving and couldn’t talk clearly.

She has been in pain for months. Her blood clots very strangely. Her tongue looks like white fur. She is now getting blisters all over her body for the second time. These blisters are huge and VERY painful. She can only swallow liquids and struggles with that. Sometimes when her skin gets wet it falls off. If she has a cut on her body it won’t heal or it takes months to heal. The doctors tell me there’s nothing wrong with her. It’s all in her head. The last time she was covered with blisters the doctor told me she was burning herself. Really???

I want to go to one of these doctors’ homes with my daughter and drop her off. I’ll pin a note to her saying to please return her when she is whole. I have been trying for 8 months to fix her and I am failing big time.

It isn’t fair.

It isn’t right.

The saddest part in all of this is that I adopted her from Haiti in hopes of making her life better. I feel like she would have been better off never coming to America.

I feel like I have failed her.

I feel like an awful mom.

This all needs to change and now!

Someone please help me help my daughter.

Book review for Heaven is for Real for Kids

2011-11-05T16:07:00.003-04:00

I was recently given the opportunity to review Heaven is for Real for Kids. This is a very good book. I had already read the adult version and couldn’t wait to get my hands on this one. This book is written as if little Colton is telling the story. He is very clear and excited about what he remembers from his visit to heaven.

I wanted this book for my daughter. She is 18 years old but has regressed back to a small child. Heaven and God really fascinate her right now so when I showed her this book she was thrilled. I read it to her and all throughout the book she would point things out or ask a question. She learned many new things from this book. At the end of the book there is a FAQ section that answered a lot of her questions. I personally loved the art work in the book, but she didn’t care for it. She said she would rather see things drawn more clearly.

I also loved the book…probably just as much as my daughter. As a mother I think it is very important to show our children how wonderful heaven will be. So many times my children have said that heaven sounds boring and they aren’t sure they will enjoy it once they get there. After reading this book I highly doubt that will be the case!

I received a copy of “Heaven is for Real for Kids” from Booksneeze.com

One Proud Momma!!

2011-10-18T23:44:00.004-04:00

Today I will write about something that many people will attempt to judge. I really truly couldn’t care less. Judge away my friends…oh wait…If you’re judging you are no friend of mine!

I am sooooooooooooooo proud of my son Abner. I MUST tell as many people as possible. He has always had a special place in my heart. I had decided to abort him when I found out I was pregnant with him, but at the last minute changed my mind. He is the first person I have ever met that is a blood relative of mine. He is not perfect by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, he causes me to sigh and holler many times throughout the day. He also has made me laugh every day since he has been born. He is only 12 years old, but he has saved the lives of 3 different people as of today. So often I hear people ask what their purpose in life might be. This is a question Abner will never need to ask himself!

So this is where you will really have an opportunity to judge…ready?

When Abner was a baby I went through a very deep depression. I was so depressed I couldn’t think of a single solitary reason in the world to live any longer. I planned how I would end my life many times. When he was barely 2 I had decided that day was the last day I would be on this earth. I put him and his 8 year old sister to bed. I waited until about 3 o’clock in the morning and I went to the kitchen and found one of my favorite bowls. I then went and got every pill in the house. I poured those pills quietly into the bowl. Then I went and filled a glass full of ice water. I walked down the hall and checked to make sure both kids were still sound asleep. ..they were. I then went to the kitchen and told myself this was the best thing for everyone. I took a handful of pills and grabbed the water. I then heard a sound behind me. It was Abner. He said, “Momma what doing?”

I said, “Nothing Honey…why are you up? You are supposed to be sleeping. Come on, let momma tuck you back into your bed.”

He said, “Momma, I not gonna sleep in my bed…I sleep in momma’s bed.”

“Abner Joseph, you WILL sleep in your bed. Now get moving!”

“NO!”

Now let me explain a little something here. I have NEVER allowed my children to tell me “no.” He knew this was cause for a spanking. “Abner, Mommy is not kidding…GO!”

“NO!”

So I caved. I crawled into my bed with my little boy and fell asleep. My plan was to wait until he was asleep and go and finish what I had started. I never woke up until my daughter woke me up so she could go to school the following morning. I must now admit that I was very angry with Abner, but soon was very grateful! That little boy saved my life. He has never one time since that night told me “no” again. :o)

When Abner was 5 we went as a family to some friend’s house to go swimming and have a cookout. Abner quickly went down to the pool. There were a few other families there, and one that had a little boy about 8 years old. The two boys were all alone. The 8 year old was in the pool and Abner was walking around the pool. I looked down to check on Abner and noticed the other boy was drowning. I screamed, “He’s drowning!” Two of the men started running down the steps of the deck to get to the pool. Abner turned and walked to grab the pool skimmer. He went down the steps on the deep end of the pool and held the skimmer out to the boy and pulled him to the edge of the pool. He had saved the boy before the adults had even reached the pool. He was so calm and acted as if he had taken some sort of lifeguard training in preschool. I was so proud of him!

Today he did it again. My daughter Phebe has had some odd and very strange problems this year. As of late, she sometimes doesn’t know who she is or who any of us are. Today was one of those days. She woke from a nap not having a clue who any of us were. She somehow got outside even though we generally lock the house down. I did everything I could think of to get her in the house. I finally called for Abner and had him go hide behind a tree so that if she darted towards the busy road he could grab her. Praise the Lord I thought of this. It wasn’t 10 minutes later and she was running. I screamed for Abner to tackle her. She was running as fast as she could into the road completely unaware there was a car going at least 55 miles per hour less than a quarter block from her. He got her down only to have her get free and start running again. I looked and there was another car coming from the other direction going even faster. I knew she was going to die. I screamed, “ABNER YOU HAVE TO TACKLE HER!” I was running but felt as if I was running in slow motion. He tried to grab her shirt and missed. I heard him let out this sound of fear and defeat. He also knew his sister was going to die in about 4 seconds. I screamed “ABNER PLEASE!” it was as if his speed almost doubled and he was suddenly on top of her. I soon was on top of both of them. It took us another hour to convince her to go in the house, but Abner had done it yet again.

I will never ever ever be able to tell Abner how much I love him, nor how proud I am of him. I had planned on having an abortion when I found out I was pregnant with him. Can you imagine?

Thank you Lord for your hand of protection and for giving me a son that I needed more than I even realized!

Yes he is walking on the ceiling.

Being a goof...as usual!

Yes he got in trouble for this!

Simple Woman's Daybook 10-10-11

2011-10-10T23:10:00.005-04:00

Outside my window…is a beautiful quiet darkness.

I am thinking…that heaven seems sweeter and sweeter each day.

I am thankful...for the Indian summer we’ve been enjoying.

From the kitchen...was homemade split pea soup and yeast rolls.

I am wearing...a heavy heart.

I am remembering...what my dad’s voice sounded like.

I am going...to visit my dad in the hospital tomorrow. He just suffered a stroke.

I am praying…my younger siblings as they hold down the fort.

On my mind…is how I wish I would have called my dad Saturday.

I am hearing...the whirl of the fan in the window.

Around the house...are lots of pieces of Cheerios.

Noticing that….I love my life!

Pondering these words…"I love you more”

One of my favorite things...the beautiful colors God gives us in the fall.

A picture thought…I received this card in the mail from my dad 2 days before his stroke. It’s probably the last thing he wrote me in his old handwriting.

Book Review - One Call Away By Brenda Warner

2011-10-04T21:28:00.002-04:00

Before reading One Call Away I must admit that I had never heard of Brenda Warner. Now that I have read the book I’m happy to say that I feel that I’ve gotten to know her and am quite happy about that. What a wonderful example for any Christian lady to follow. She wasn’t perfect, but she sure was faithful.

I started reading this book thinking about how much I wish I would have picked a different book to read. After reading for about 30 seconds I had a complete change of mind. I could not put the book down. I read when I should have been working, cooking, cleaning, and even sleeping. Brenda Warner had quite an eventful life…more often bad than good. She starts off by explaining her life from childhood. There were many times while reading about this time of her life that I had to wipe away tears. The book goes into her adult life and my tears continued to slide down my face.

It was amazing to watch her as she stayed the course no matter what life threw at her. Let me say here that life wasn’t kind in its throwing. Brenda really had me evaluating how I responded to hardships and hurts in my life. I wish I could say that I was as faithful and strong as she was, but sadly I have not been.

If you have ever struggled with forgiveness, pre-marital sex, abuse, financial woes, divorce, what you believe, betrayal, or loss. This book is the book for you. Brenda wasn’t perfect in all of her choices, but no one is. She was very honest in how she lived her life…right or wrong. I have to admit that I didn’t enjoy the book as much after she became a millionaire. Maybe it was just a jealous streak in me, but it was difficult for me to hear her complain about having too much money.

Even though life hasn’t always been easy for me I feel like it’s been a cake walk when compared to Brenda Warner. I hope that after reading this book I’ll be more thankful for what I have and encouraged to be a faithful Christian no matter how difficult life gets.

I received a copy of “One Call Away” from Booksneeze.com

The Simple Woman's Daybook 9/26/11

2011-09-26T21:58:00.017-04:00

Outside my window…it’s dark but warm. The lawn is freshly cut by my sick hubby (poor guy).

I am thinking…that it’s not fair that when I got sick the rest of the family got sick. When do I get to get babied? ;o)

I am thankful...that my hubby and I are on the mend from this silly cold.

From the kitchen...was homemade chicken noodle soup. I’m sure that’s what cured us! Well, that and the 5 million vitamin C tablets my hubby had us take.

I am wearing...an achiness in my bones as well as my spirit.

I am remembering...that I am here to bring honor and glory to Him.

I am going...to lose it if things don’t start turning around for my daughter.

I am praying…for so many hurts of sweet people that I love.

On my mind…is how much longer before my family can enjoy an abundant life. Not financially mind you, but the abundant life in John 10:10.

I am reading: A Cry for Justice: Overcome anger, reject bitterness and trust in JESUS who will fight for you. By: Shelly Hundly

I am hearing...a television show that Jesse and Abner are watching, and Asher pretending to be a truck.

Around the house...are my favorite decorations…FALL!

Noticing that….they weren’t lying when they said it was more difficult to lose weight after 40.

Pondering these words…You is good…you is kind…you is important.

One of my favorite things...is seeing Asher smile at me when he knows he’s being naughty.

A picture thought… Photo shoot with Asher :o) Phebe LOVES to take pictures!!!

Tuckered him right out!

The Simple Woman's Daybook 9-19-11

2011-09-19T23:25:00.005-04:00

Outside my window…there is a drizzle of rain.

I am thinking…about a stop sign. I’ve decided every time my mind goes to something negative that I will think of a stop sign and then I will write out my thoughts at a later time.

I am thankful...that my father-in-law and mother-in-law raised such a wonderful son.

From the kitchen...was a salmon casserole.

I am wearing...a feeling of relief.

I am reading...The Oak Leaves by: Maureen Lang

I am remembering...what it felt like to be too hot this summer.

I am going...to enjoy my son being surprised by his grandparents coming to Grandparents Day at school.

I am praying…for a dear friend who has been deeply hurt by her husband and friend.

On my mind…is how much I have to be thankful for.

I am hearing...the whirl of the fan, and my hubby taking a shower.

Around the house...are lots of canning supplies.

Noticing that….it really doesn’t matter what other people think. It only matters what my Lord thinks.

Pondering these words…Christ will make everything right in His time.

One of my favorite things...Asher hollering at Abner from the other room.

A picture thought… My son only wanted a dog for his birthday...he got it. Boy do they love each other!!!

Book Review - Please Stop Lauging at Me...One Woman's Inspirational Story

2011-08-28T18:08:00.005-04:00

I have to admit that I was completely shocked while reading this book. Growing up I was either in homeschool or a small private school and never experienced bullies. I began to wonder if I had ever bullied another child, but honestly I can’t think of a time…well except for my younger sister.

As I read this book I couldn’t put it down. The way this poor girl was treated is unbelievable. I wondered as I read chapter after chapter how many other children, in America, have had to endure this type of torture. What amazes me is how we are all so shocked when a kid brings a gun or knife to school. Now I wonder if many times the real reason for the weapons is for protection. The saddest thing to me is this happened to Jodee quite a few years back. How many other children have to put up with this garbage before something is done?

If we look at corporate America there really isn’t that much difference in how Jodee was treated and how our co-workers are treated. It’s all about stepping on the smaller guy to move on up the ladder. How pathetic!

My son will be going to a secular school this year, and I must admit after reading this book I have had second thoughts. The way Jodee’s parents responded is probably exactly how I would have responded. We want our children to take a stand and be leaders, but at what expense…their dignity…their life? I cannot imagine having to return to school day after day, month after month, and year after year being treated like an old tin can we kick around for fun. Actually, Jodee was treated far worse than that.

Two of my favorite quotes in the book were:

When you’re a victim of any kind of abuse, you can do one of two things. You can learn how to turn your pain into purpose and make a difference in the world, or you can allow it to extinguish the light inside you. If you permit the latter, you are sacrificing far more than your childhood to the cruel gods of popularity. Pg213

People tend to consider being vulnerable a bad thing. It’s not. Vulnerability reminds us that we’re human. It keeps us open to giving and receiving love. Without at least a little, we can become what Dave is trying so hard to be-someone living in a prison of our own making, where the walls are so thick that no one can get in or out. Pg. 248

The only thing that bothered me about the book was the language. There are quite a few four letter words that I don’t particularly care for or use.

I feel that having read this book I have a desire to be more aware of the underdog. To keep my eyes open for bullies seeking their prey. If I can somehow keep another human from hurting I will do what I can to help.

I received a copy of “Please Stop Laughing at Me…One Woman’s Inspiration Story” from Booksneeze.com

Trying to get to "happy"!

2011-08-09T01:17:00.004-04:00

Ever have one of those days where you just can’t get to "happy"? Today was one of those days for me. It actually started out fine. We had a wonderful weekend getting things done around the house Friday and Saturday. Sunday we were able to go and visit family. Then during the night last night my pain level was quite high. I took some pain meds around 4 in the morning, and finally fell asleep around 8. Thankfully Jesse got up with the baby so I was able to get a couple hours of sleep.

The morning went smooth enough. I was able to get 4 loads of laundry out on the line and get the kitchen cleaned up, and write the first chapter of a book idea I have. Then Phebe’s sleep walking began. We just got a new disc for the recorder so I decided to record what she does. This went on for quite some time. She finally woke up and was able to go lie down and rest for a bit.

It was after all of this that I started to become angry. I just grew tired of having to unlock and lock doors ALL day long. All of my doors now require keys to use them. I HATE IT! Jesse and I are the only ones with keys so every two minutes my son Abner is asking for a key to get through a door. When I worked at the prison that was one of the things I hated the most…keys locking and unlocking EVERYTHING. Now I live my life like that. It’s not just 8 hours a day, but 24. I wanted to scream, but figured that wouldn’t go over too well with the rest of the household. I wanted to be alone, but there was no place to go. “Mom, can you?” “Babe, will you?” “Momma, may I?” “Mrs. Olson, won’t you?” I tell myself that someday I’ll miss it, but today wasn’t one of those days.

Tonight the baby was sleeping, Abner was in bed, Jesse was in the shower, and Phebe was supposed to be in bed. I’m thinking that I may actually have a couple minutes to myself. Yes, I have to finish up the dishes, clean the living room, and take care of the cookies I baked, but still…I was “alone”. Then I hear Phebe ask if we can pray together. Usually I go to her room every night and we talk about our day, and then I pray with her. However, tonight I DIDN’T WANT TO DO IT!!! I was hoping she would forget. No such luck! So I asked her if we could talk about our day while I cleaned. She smiled and said that was what she was thinking I should do.

The best part of her day was the little horse statue that Abner gave her, and the worst part of her day was the neighbor mowing his lawn all afternoon making her migraine worse. I told her the best part of my day was getting all the laundry caught up, and the worst was not being able to be alone. She asked if that’s why I was slamming everything around the kitchen. Oops! This didn’t cause me to change my ways. I then suggested that she try to pray tonight since I’m the one who usually does that part. She giggled in her little girl way and said she would try but she really didn’t know how to do it. I told her to talk to God just like she talks to me.

This was her prayer:

“God, (Mom, is that right? I nodded) God, thank you for the sunshine today. Thank you for my mom. Thank you for all three of my brothers. Thank you for my dad. Please put your protector angels around Asher as he sleeps and please help him to sleep good (giggle giggle “Mom, Asher ALWAYS sleeps good, doesn’t he? I nodded) Please put your protector angels around Abner and Mom and Dad and me…just my whole family. Thank you for my family. (Mom, how do I stop?) Oh, in Your name, Amen.”

With tears in my eyes, I told her I needed to change my favorite part of my day. She said I could. I told her it was her prayer. Her eyes got all big. “Really mom?” She smiled and skipped off to her room happy as a lark. I didn’t skip, but my attitude was so much better. I finally made it to "happy".

Simple Women's Daybook 8-1-2001

2011-08-01T20:13:00.008-04:00

Outside my window…is chicken cooking on the grill.

I am thinking…that my children are growing too quickly.

I am thankful...that Phebe is doing better every day.

From the kitchen...is grilled chicken and zucchini, broccoli from the garden, red skinned potatoes, ruhbarb crumble, and blueberry pie.

I am wearing...a skirt I recently realized that I always wear pants. I thought I would wear a skirt for a change. I feel weird.

I am remembering...what it was like when Phebe could at least help with doing dishes.

I am going...to get groceries after the baby goes to bed.

I am praying…for someone I should have been praying for for all along.

On my mind…is how quickly time flies the older I get.

I am hearing...Abner play basketball in the driveway, and the potatoes boiling on the stove.

Around the house...are toys in nooks and crannie…placed there by little Asher boy.

Noticing that….the days are getting shorter.

Pondering these words…Love thy neighbor as thyself.

One of my favorite things...is sleeping.

A picture thought…here are some pictures Phebe took before she regressed.

Some decorations in her bedroom.

Asher and me enjoying the beautifull weather.

Flowers in our yard.

Love Thy Neighbor as Thyself

2011-07-31T23:12:00.007-04:00

My daughter is really opening my eyes to what I believe and why. I’ve been on the verge of tears ever since last Wednesday. Phebe and I were on our way home from her counseling appointment. The topic of forgiveness and love was brought up. She wanted me to explain both words. I did my best. I tried to explain that it’s not something you do just once but that you must continue to love and forgive. Both words are actions not just words. I quoted Matthew 22:36-39 to her.

36Master, which is the great commandment in the law?

37Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind.

38This is the first and great commandment.

39And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.

She became very quiet. After a few minutes she asked if she had to forgive the person who had hurt her for so many years. I told her she did. She asked if I had. I told her that I sure had and continue to do so. She asked if I loved him. I told her I did. I explained that I hated, with all my heart, what he had done, but that I loved him.

All of a sudden it hit me. I say that I love him, but do I love him as myself? Jesus said that I am to love my neighbor as myself. I have to admit that I don’t. I love him, but not as I love myself. Silly me had been so proud of myself for so many years that I could forgive him for what he did to my daughter and other girls, and that I loved him. I have to admit that I don’t want to love him as much as I love myself. If I could lie face down on the floor and stomp my feet and beat my fists in the ground right now I would. I don’t want to love him like that.

I think what makes me want to cry is, that I’m so afraid that because of my unwillingness to love him as I should, that is what is preventing my daughter from getting better. I couldn’t begin to tell you how many times I have quoted these verses, and told people if we just did these two things everything else would fall into place. Now here I am…needing to love someone and refusing to do it completely. I kid myself by saying, “If he would just admit what he has done and ask for forgiveness I could love him correctly.” That’s not true though. That would be a conditional love and forgiveness. All I know is that I cannot do this in my own power. This kind of love and forgiveness can only come from my Father.

I guess it is now time for me to learn to love him as Christ loves him. To forgive him as Christ has forgiven him. I’m not sure where to begin. I think I will start praying for him. That sounds like a great place to start!

A God thing

2011-07-25T16:01:00.001-04:00

I have noticed over the past few weeks how many things I say without thinking. Such as, “dog ugly.” I usually say this whenever I see something that is, in my opinion, horrifically ugly. When Phebe came out of her regression she had some sort of amnesia. So she only remembers the last 3 weeks to the present. She’s learned a lot during that time. I often confuse her though with all my funny sayings. I had to explain what a dog was when we saw one near our home. So later when I said something was “dog ugly” she was totally baffled. Tonight she said, “Mom, whenever you say ‘sugar jets’ I know something bad has happened.” The other day my mom came for a visit and was talking to Asher, “Come here you little hunka munka.” Phebe asked what in the world is a hunka munka? We are going to have this poor girl so messed up.

I’ve been so nervous re-teaching her things of God and the Bible. I’m not really sure why this makes me nervous since I’ve been teaching this to her for the last 18 years. She takes everything so literally that at times I think I over explain things to her. One day when her migraine was really bad and I had no medications to give her, she came to me and said she had decided to go to heaven with Jesus and Uriah. I asked her how she planned on getting there, and she suddenly realized she didn’t know how. She asked how Uriah had done it.

She now has the mind of a 4 or 5 year old. She LOVES to help me with EVERYTHING!!! She has to stir, taste, lift, fold, carry, clean, and shift everything I do. Tonight in church she was mimicking everything I did. Her Bible had to be open to the same book…even though she can’t read. Her leg had to be crossed. Her hand had to be cupping her other hand. She told me that she had done everything just like me when she got ready for church. She did her hair, put on a skirt (which made her feel like “such a girl”), put on some make-up, and washed the counters down. She makes me smile.

I wasn’t smiling, however, when Jesse called this afternoon. I had gone to visit our old church and to go to an open house, and Jesse had stayed home. He went to church in the morning and was gone for about 2 hours. Phebe has been home alone for longer periods than that so we weren’t too nervous. We have had issues with her sleep walking lately. She has woken up in the middle of the night in the back yard, and the pitch dark basement. She will also do this during the day. Last week she walked out into the living room with her eye mask on. No matter how loud I yelled she couldn’t hear me. When I grabbed her hand she finally was startled awake. Thursday I looked out in the back yard and she was walking around with her eye mask on holding her stuffed bunny. I watched her to see how long this would last and to see what would eventually wake her up. Her arm bumped the post of the clothesline and she about jumped out of her skin. So today Jesse came in the house to discover she wasn’t there. The front door has 3 locks on it plus a thick rug that prevents you from opening the door. She got it open far enough to squeeze through. He looked and looked for her, and ended up calling the police. He checked with neighbors but no one had seen her. To make a long story short a neighbor had seen her a couple miles from the house and drove back to see if we were missing her. Man do I love them for that!

Jesse took me to the spot he had found her…nearly 3 miles from our house. I asked her tonight what had woken her up. She said someone had honked their horn at her. She woke up and looked down at the yellow painted line. She was walking down the middle of the road. I shake my head and wonder how many people drove past her and never bothered to check to see if she was ok. Yes, she is 18, but the girl was wearing pajamas, carrying a stuffed animal, wearing earplugs, and WALKING DOWN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD…barefoot. When she had told me she was in the middle of the road I just stood there with my mouth open. Every night she asks me to pray that she won’t sleepwalk. I pray for that along with IF she does sleepwalk that God will protect her. She said, “Mom, He answered our prayer. I didn’t sleepwalk for 2 nights AND when I did He protected me. That’s a God thing, huh???” “Yes Phebe…that is definitely a God thing!”

I didn’t want to admit to her that I had been a little upset with God earlier that day. In fact, I’m puddling up now just thinking about it. In my heart I was screaming at God, “Why didn’t you keep her from sleepwalking? Why didn’t you just let her sleep through the night so she would have been awake while we were gone?” On our way to church this morning the radio announcer was reading the verse about God caring about the sparrows that fall, how much more does He care for us. As I sat in church today singing and praising Him, Phebe was walking blind down the middle of the road. It angered me. Not until Phebe pointed out that it was a “God thing” did I realize how He had protected her. Shame on me for not having the faith of a child. Phebe’s 5 year old brain figured out His sovereignty while my 40 year old heart got it all confused.

Best/Worst part of your day???

2011-07-11T00:00:00.002-04:00

My kids and I have played a game for years. We started playing it when one of them could never find anything good about their day. They both feel like they’re too old to still be tucked in at night so I climb in bed with them and ask them what the best and worst thing about their day was. I in turn have to come up with answers too. “I don’t know” cannot be an answer. Tonight Phebe’s best thing was being able to watch Asher learn new things…like climb the steps into the kitchen. :o( The worst being her migraine. Abner’s best was playing basketball with his dad and the worst was not being allowed to play Playstation. The best part of my day was being able to go to church. The last time I was actually in a church service was 3 months ago. The worst part of my day was seeing the disappointment on Phebe’s face when we got to church. She has some type of amnesia and can only remember things from the middle of June to present. So we have been re-teaching her EVERYTHING! God and heaven really amaze her. She has been looking forward to going to church for quite a while now. I think she is excited because we are so excited about church. She was watching Pollyanna the other day and turned to me and said, “I don’t want to go to church anymore.” I laughed and told her that our church wasn’t like the church in the movie. So as we pulled into the parking lot tonight Phebe said, “This is the house of God, right?” We told her it was. She said, “I’m so excited. I can’t wait to see Him.” I asked her who she was talking about, thinking it may be one of the pastors. She said, “God.” I smiled and told her that God lives in heaven, but that we go to church to worship Him. She asked, “You mean He’s not going to be in there?” I didn’t really know how to answer her. I mean of course He’s going to be there, but we aren’t going to be able to see him. It’s very hard to explain something like that to someone who takes everything so literally. When I did explain that we wouldn’t be able to see Him I thought she was going to cry. Phebe gets a migraine every day starting around one in the afternoon. It doesn’t go away until sometime in the middle of the night. She started to get one today about the same time, but when it was time to go to church she said she didn’t have one. I knew she was lying and just really wanted to go to church. I figured we may as well go since she’s going to be in pain one way or the other. Then to see the disappointment on her face when she realized that God wasn’t even going to “show up” was a tough pill for me to swallow. I hated it for her.

I then wondered why it was so important for her to see God. Is it because we have made Him sound exciting or unreal? Is it a natural feeling for her to want to see Him? Then I thought I better figure out a way this week to let her see Him in us…in me! I want her to know Him. He’s so good. He’s so true. He’s so just. He’s full of grace. His mercy is everlasting. His love is unmerited. His forgiveness is unlimited. His salvation is everlasting. He’s the king of kings and lord of lords. He’s the sinner’s savior. He’s supreme. He supplies all our needs. These are things plus many more that are true about my God. It reminds me of the speech by S. M. Lockridge.

This last week has been difficult. I had a friend get ahold of me and remind me of God’s grace. I shared with her that there are times when I wonder when God will bless our family since we have had to endure so much. She said, “The fact that He has carried you through these times is blessing enough.” That is NOT what I wanted to hear, but it is what I needed to hear. She is 100% right. It doesn’t matter what we must endure on earth. We will be spending eternity in Glory with Him! Life is hard and can be discouraging, but God scoops us up and carries us to the finish line - or until we are ready to run the race again alongside Him.

Do YOU know Him?

Phebe's home!

2011-06-29T15:12:00.003-04:00

Have you ever just wanted to be a kid again? I have. In fact, I really wanted it the other day. The hospital called to let me know I could come and pick Phebe up. I’m sure that most parents would be thrilled to pick their child up from the hospital, but I wasn’t. While I was walking down the corridors of U of M all I could do was imagine myself lying face down and slamming my fists and feet into the floor while screaming at the top of my lungs. I knew I wasn’t ready for the work ahead and I was very sure that Phebe wasn’t ready either. The problem was the hospital didn’t want to care for her any more.

The hospital had promised that they wouldn’t send her home until she was sleeping at least 6 hours a night, and they had her migraines and medications under control. None of those promises were kept. She was still only sleeping 2 hours tops, the migraines happened repeatedly throughout the day, and none of the medications seemed to be helping. They kept focusing on what a wonderful girl Phebe was and what a great attitude she had. No kidding people! I’m quite aware of how great my daughter is. What’s not so great are the problems she deals with. I felt like a little kid every time one of the staff talked to me. They made me feel incompetent and foolish. I knew I was neither of those things.

I stayed on my feet the whole time in the corridors and everywhere else. They sent us home with 6 new prescriptions and a pat on the back. They had done NOTHING to help my daughter. They set Phebe up in a program at our local hospital. She was to go daily from 9-3. She would do crafts, group activities, and therapy. I knew these 6 hours would be my saving grace. Caring for Phebe is a lot of work.
So on Phebe’s second day home we went to the hospital to enroll her in these classes. Within 2 minutes I knew they weren’t going to keep her. They said they were very sorry but they couldn’t help. She needed an intensive level of care that they couldn’t provide. The lady left the room and was gone for over 20 minutes. She came back and said she had consulted with the staff to figure out what to do for Phebe. They came up with NOTHING. She apologized, patted us on the back, and sent us on our way. U of M had failed us yet agian...they never bothered to explain to this hospital how much care Phebe would need. They just wanted to empty her bed.

Phebe is relearning everything. The other day I was praying for our food and she asked who God was. I explained God, prayer, heaven, Jesus, the plan of salvation, and sin. Her eyes puddled up and she couldn’t understand how Jesus could be treated so badly when He was perfect. The next day she asked me, “Mom, what phone do I use to talk to God?” Her innocence amazes me! When we were in the car yesterday she said the ceiling looked cool. I was confused but then realized she was talking about the sky. I have explained sky vs. ceiling, flower vs. flour, ant vs. aunt, along with pregnancy, boiling water, fingers, lightning bugs, bath, bubbles, dry, prayer, washer, dryer, dog, dog ugly, husband, sister, thoughts, pillow, hanger, and that is just the tip of the iceberg. The hardest part is keeping the noise in the house to a minimum. Abner is LOUD and Asher isn’t quiet. I also babysit. We have a lot of work to do to get this house quieter. I also have to sleep with her because she is so scared. It literally takes hours for her to fall asleep and there is no sleep for me until she does. She loves art and I have nothing for her to do. I need to get to the store and find something, but she goes frantic when I leave the room, let alone the house, and taking her with me isn’t an option. The sounds and lights of town are way too much for her.

It’s only been two full days since she returned home and I’m beat. How am I supposed to mother my other children, be a wife to my husband, get my housework done, have friendships, and supply all of Phebe’s needs????? I think it’s going to take me a looooooong time to answer those questions. Maybe when I do I’ll no longer want to be a kid again, but I doubt it. Being a kid a FABULOUS! :o)

Roller Coasters

2011-06-24T12:57:00.004-04:00

Growing up I HATED roller coasters. My sister Flossie, who is two years younger than me, couldn’t get enough of them. Because we were so close in age I was her designated roller-coaster-riding-buddy. Let’s just say this did not thrill me.

My life the last three months has been quite a roller coaster ride. I have to admit that I have not enjoyed it any more than an actual roller coaster. I remember on the real roller coaster the one thing I dreaded the most was that slow crawl up that first hill. To me it was torture. To Flossie it was exhilarating. I remember watching her out of the corner of my eye as I gripped the handrail. She would be squealing with excitement. I would be stifling a scream of fear. Before my daughter’s first outward symptom started 3 months ago I recall thinking about how great my family’s life was. My marriage was fantastic, my kids were all doing great, our finances were looking good, we loved our new house and new church family, and to top it all off I was losing weight. :-) I didn’t realize I was crawling up that first hill of life's roller coaster. I told myself life was too good to stay like this, but I never would have guessed what was coming. Then the dreaded fall…down the stairway. I fell and broke my ankle on Sunday; the following Friday Phebe started to stutter. Nothing major, but I knew something wasn’t right. We had started her on a new medication 3 days earlier to help her sleep. The year before we had discovered that she had only been sleeping for 2-3 hours a night for many years. She had actually taken this medication then and it had worked wonders. My husband and I knew we had to help her get more rest or there would be problems. Boy, were we right! At first we thought that restarting this medication had caused her stuttering.

In 2 months’ time we went from stuttering to regressing all the way back to a 9-12 month old. During that time we had been to numerous doctors, emergency rooms, and specialists running every test imaginable. We were finally pointed to one hospital in Ann Arbor. After spending 33 hours at the University of Michigan’s emergency room we finally got her admitted. What a trying time that was. At about the 29th hour I finally had my fill and I told my husband, "They better find her a bed soon or they are going to have two people in need of a bed." I was at my whit’s end. I went and asked one of the staff what would happen if we just left her since she had turned 18 the week before. The social worker came out and begged me to give her 3o minutes. I wanted to say, "I've given you 29 hours lady… what are you going to do in 30 minutes?" Instead I smiled and said, "Of course." Twenty-nine minutes later she returned to the room. She came in and said, "It’s in the works. She’s getting a bed tonight. It’s going to take some time, but she will have a bed sometime tonight." Four hours later my husband and I were tucking her into her bed. When I left that night I was so torn. I knew I needed rest. I had only gotten 10 hours of broken sleep during the 7 days prior. However, I was leaving my little girl behind. She had the mind of a baby. She couldn’t walk, talk, chew, or realize any type of danger. She had fallen down stairs, out of bed, and off the couch. How could I leave her? I had been with her nearly every second for over a week, and now I was leaving her to strangers??? My arms ached for her just as much as they ached when I left the hospital without my baby boy Uriah.

She has been at the University of Michigan for three weeks now. A week and a half ago she came out of the regression. What an amazing day that was. My mom had come to stay the night with Phebe and me. Mom gave me a break so I could go get something to eat. What a novel idea. At one point I had been in Phebe’s room for 4 days straight with no relief. On the fourth day a nurse finally let me go get something to eat. With Mom there now, I went to the cafeteria and started to eat my sandwich. I had intended to stay there for at least a half hour, but something kept nudging me to return to the room. So ten minutes later I walked back into the room. Mom stepped out to make a phone call. Phebe was sleeping and started to have a nightmare. The nightmares are the whole reason Phebe refuses to sleep. She is terrified of the recollection of things that have happened to her in the past. She had not had one nightmare the entire time she had regressed. Earlier that day I had noticed a couple other things that made me wonder if she was “coming back”. I woke her from the nightmare and she sat up in bed and said, “MOM???” I said, “Phebe???” She looked around the room in total confusion. I hit the call light and grabbed one of the many family pictures I had plastered around her room. I asked her who one of the people was. She laughed and said, “Mom, that’s my brother…Abner.” I just hugged her and cried and cried.

The doctors keep telling me that they have never seen anything like this. They’ve seen regression, but not anyone who has gone back so far. Phebe came to the states to be my daughter when she was 9 months old. They believe that is when she felt the safest, and that’s why she went back that far in her mind.

She is improving in little ways each day. She no longer has to have someone sit with her 24 hours a day. In fact, that ended this afternoon. She has forgotten so much. Yesterday I took Abner to the hospital for the first time. When we left Phebe said, “Abner, it was nice to meet you.” When things like that happen it reminds me how long of a ride this roller coaster is going to be. I had such a rude awakening last night. I had been telling people that Phebe didn’t really remember me being her mom, but now that she knows I’m her mom she’s very happy about it. She was so excited a few days back to realize she gets to come home to live with me and my family. She is re-learning her letters as she is not able to read or write. She said she got up to the letter “H” yesterday. I explained what “H” says and that my name starts with “H”…Hannah. She frowned and said, “Hannah…I thought your name was mom?” It was then that I realized she didn’t know I was her mom…she just thought that was my name. :-(

I’ve asked myself many times what it is I’m supposed to be learning through all of this. Sometimes I’ve even wondered if someone else is supposed to be learning something. If that is the case I do wish they would hurry it up. :-) Maybe it’s not something to be learned, but instead it’s to bring honor and glory to the Lord. I hope and pray that as I’ve ridden this ride I’ve let Jesus shine in my life. I had a lady come to me in church Sunday thanking me for showing her God’s grace in difficult times. Wow, what an encouragement. I sure haven’t felt very gracious at times. I don’t know the reason for all of this and more than likely never will, but that’s OK. There is light at the exit door that says, “God is in control”. Plus I know I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.

As a kid at the end of the real roller coaster ride I was always so proud of myself for not getting sick and actually making it out the gate. I’m pretty sure I’ll be feeling the same way when this ride is over. On our ride home last night Abner asked if we would still be taking a vacation this summer. I told him I sure hope so. I told him we would also like to go to Lake Michigan, and let’s not forget Michigan’s Adventure. Although I think I’ll leave the roller coasters for someone else!

Philippians 4:4-13

4Rejoice in the Lord always: and again I say, Rejoice.
5Let your moderation be known unto all men. The Lord is at hand.
6Be careful for nothing; but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.
7And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.
8Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.
9Those things, which ye have both learned, and received, and heard, and seen in me, do: and the God of peace shall be with you.
10But I rejoiced in the Lord greatly, that now at the last your care of me hath flourished again; wherein ye were also careful, but ye lacked opportunity.
11Not that I speak in respect of want: for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.
12I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound: everywhere and in all things I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need.
13I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.

Simple Woman's Daybook 5-23-11

2011-05-23T23:58:00.005-04:00

Outside my window…is the dark of night and the chirp of crickets.

I am thinking…how amazingly fast the last 18 years have gone.

I am thankful...that the Lord allowed me to adopt such a wonderful daughter.

From the kitchen...was pork chops, mashed potatoes, green beans, and crescent rolls.

I am wearing...His peace.

I am remembering...how small and helpless Phebe looked the first time I laid eyes on her.

I am going...to celebrate my daughter turning 18.

I am reading…Please Stop Laughing at Me... by Jodee Blanco, and hopefully doing a book review soon.

I am praying…for healing.

On my mind…is the feeling of dread as I realize I must teach my sweet daughter how to read and write again. I already taught her 12 years ago, but we must plunge forward and do it again.

I am hearing...the swirl of the fan, my hubby taking a shower, and my bed calling my name.

Around the house...are gifts hidden away for Phebe. :o)

Noticing that….I need to get things done now. I am recalling things I said I was going to do when I adopted Phebe, and here we are 18 years later. Wow!

Pondering these words…Ma…ma…ma….mom wh….wh…wh…wha…wha…what’s th…th…th…this…l…l…le…le…le…let…letter?

One of my favorite things...is hearing Phebe laugh.

A picture thought…my baby girl.

God's love amazes me!

2011-05-18T00:21:00.016-04:00

Romans 8:38&39
38For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come,
39Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

I have been struggling lately with understanding God’s love. I always want to compare how I love MY children to how He loves His children. There really is no comparison.

I’ve been enjoying watching my 6 month old learn new things. He’s learned to fake cough, roll from tummy to back, jibber-jabber to get our attention, and cry his head off to get his way. Asher rolled over for the first time tonight from his back to his stomach. It was quite a shock to me. I had left him on my bed to go get some Desitin for his little red bottom. We have been trying to get him to roll from back to tummy for quite some time, but he has not been interested at all. As I started to walk back into the room, with the Desitin, I saw he was on his stomach. I was so excited I gasped. He heard me and tried to roll to see me. This caused him to roll off of the bed. I ran and caught him mid-air. My heart was going pretty fast at this point and I was feeling like a pretty worthless parent.

Asher feeling all proud of himself for getting someone else to love him to pieces...his Grandma Olson.

I began to think about my heavenly Father. Does He smile as we learn new things? When Asher had tried in the past to roll I was always tempted to help him out just a little bit. Does God want to give us a bit of a nudge when we struggle along the way?

Do the things we say and do cause Him to chuckle? I believe God has a sense of humor. Tonight in family devotions we asked the kids for examples of His sense of humor. Of course tooting was mentioned.

When Asher coos and jabbers at me as if to tell me a story it just thrills my heart. I want him to never stop. Is this How God feels when I pray to Him?

Asher sharing stories with Aunt Mercy.

When Asher does something amazing like … blink … it causes his siblings to cheer him on to do it again. I wonder if this is how God feels when we share with others His amazing gifts of love, grace, and salvation.

Asher amazing his Uncle Stephen with his grabbing abilities.

My 17 year old daughter has to learn to talk and read again. Today as she learned that C-A-T spelled cat her eyes widened and she smiled. My heart leapt for joy. Is this how the Lord feels when we learn a new truth from His Word?

My 11 year old son bought me a very unique Mother’s Day gift. He and his dad went to a rock show at our local fair grounds. He knows how much I love the color yellow and he found a sparkly rock with a hand-crafted yellow rose in the center. It totally made my day. I smile every time I see it. Is this how God feels when we give above and beyond at our local church?

I can’t compare my love with His. I wish I could better understand how He loves me so. How He enjoys hearing me talk to Him. I love Him with all of my heart and I’m so thankful that NOTHING can separate me from His everlasting, unconditional, amazing, and perfect love. My hope is that others will see His love in my life and desire to have that same love.

God is good

2011-04-27T11:55:00.003-04:00

God is good…all the time!

Whenever I say "God is good" and someone then replies "all the time" I feel so guilty. I always feel like they think I forgot that He's good all the time. I have noticed lately that people don't say "God is good" when they are going through trials. It's not usually until the trial is over and they can see how God intervened that they seem to then notice His goodness. By the way, when I say "they" I mean "me".

The last six weeks have been probably the hardest six weeks of my life…ever. Maybe I feel this way because I'm still in the midst of a trial, but I don't think so. It all started with my broken ankle. After falling down the steps and looking at my foot, which was now pointed at 3 O'clock, I instantly started to chew God out. "Lord, you know I have too much going on in my life to not be able to walk. What in the world are you thinking?!?!?" If I knew at that point what else would happen in the next few weeks I would have thought the ankle thing was no big deal.

A week later my husband and I were attempting to help our daughter get some much needed sleep. She has had problems sleeping for years. She would get around 2-3 hours of sleep a night. So my hubby took her to the doctor and he prescribed some medications she had used before that worked. Within 3 days she was showing some very strange symptoms. She stuttered severely, shook all the time, had mouth ticks, dropped almost everything she picked up, and fell A LOT. So we immediately stopped the meds. A week later, after a visit to the ER and another visit to the doctor, she could no longer talk but for a few words, she couldn't read or write, and fell down the steps numerous times. Her sleep was even less. She was terrified of everything at night. My hubby had to start sleeping downstairs on the couch for her to feel safe.

Two more visits to the ER and a eight day stay in the hospital (without the doctors really figuring anything out) and here we are a month later. All the symptoms are the same. She also is dealing with the flu and some sort of staph infection that is spreading across her body. She is in immense pain. The wonderful thing about Phebe is she never complains. I keep telling her if it was me I would be curled up in a ball in the corner crying and no one would be able to console me. She's now too sick to help around the house, but everyday with tears in her eyes she asks, through her own sign language, if there's anything she can do to help. One of the hardest things in life is watching your child suffer. I pushed aside the thought that God had to watch His son suffer on the cross for MY sin.

Last week I was getting so upset with the Lord for allowing all this garbage in our lives. My hubby works two jobs so he's gone all evening a few nights a week. Phebe, of course, can't hold babies and I can't walk so that leaves Abner to take care of our 5 month old along with a 6 month old that I watch 2 days a week. I could not do it without Abner. The great thing about him is he makes everything fun. The babies adore him and brighten the second he walks into the room. Instead of being thankful for my son and being thankful that my husband works from home during the day and being thankful that my arm wasn't broke so I can at least fix meals and hold the babies I grumbled.

Sunday was Easter Sunday and the choir sang a new song I had never heard before called, "Settled at the Cross". Boy, did that song open my eyes.

"So if you never speak another word of blessing,
And the silence leaves me with a sense of loss.
I'll remember if my heart begins to question
Any doubt that you love me was settled at the cross."

I realized after hearing this song that I had been thinking and believing that I was entitled to some sort of blessing from the Lord. I had forgotten that I am already blessed beyond measure. I get to spend eternity with Christ and my hubby and my children in a perfect Heaven because of God's goodness.

Trials are not very joyous, but I have learned in the last 6 weeks that God is good…ALL THE TIME! May He forgive me for taking his goodness for granted, and may someone see His goodness in how we (I mean "I") respond to trials.

Simple Woman's Daybook 4-4-11

2011-04-04T21:48:00.006-04:00

Outside my window…the sun has set and the moon is trying to show itself through the clouds.

I am thinking…it’s amazing how God has blessed me with such amazing friends.

I am thankful...that even though we go through difficult times we are always in the center of God’s unfailing love. I'm also thankful for my friend's daughter who is coming tomorrow to stay for the week to help us out.

From the kitchen...was a wonderful meal prepared by the one and only Abner Snyder…corndogs and french fries. Delish. ;O)

I am wearing...a walking cast even though I’m still not able to bear weight on my ankle for at least 4 more weeks.

I am remembering...how I once took for granted the full range of motion in my ankles. However, I no longer take that for granted.

I am going...to yet another doctor’s appointment tomorrow. This time it’s for one of the kidlets though.

I am reading…or attempting to read...my daughter’s mind.

I am praying…for wisdom and right choices.

On my mind…sufferings of family members.

I am hearing...Phebe get a snack from the kitchen, Abner talking to Asher and acting quite silly to boot, the hum of my laptop, and the tick-tock of the clock.

Around the house...there is no evidence at all that I did spring cleaning just a few weeks ago.

Noticing that….people love to help, but I hate asking for it.

Pondering these words…Babe, I love you! I sure love my hubby!!!!

One of my favorite things...is seeing my children helping each other and making each other laugh.

A picture thought…me and the Phebster playing with babies.

Book Review: Lilly's Wedding Quilt By Kelly Long

2011-03-31T22:30:00.003-04:00

Lilly’s Wedding Quilt is a compelling love story. This story is not only love portrayed between a man and a woman, but a family as well. It was interesting to see how the author weaved in the relationship of the family and how it requires hard work and loyalty to make it run smoothly.

The book grabs your attention right away with one character receiving unwarranted blame. It was a page turner right from page one. It’s an easy read that doesn’t have too many characters to confuse you. I didn’t want to put it down as I needed to see what was going to happen next. I couldn’t wait to see how God would fulfill the desires of the characters' hearts.

I enjoyed getting wrapped up in Lilly’s mind and emotions as she was so involved with her students and their everyday life. She taught with such passion and conviction, and desired her students to fulfill their dreams. Lilly also had dreams she wanted to fulfill, but had given up hope that any of them would come true.

It was made clear that God will grant the desires of our hearts, but sometimes we aren’t clear ourselves as to what those desires might be.

I received a copy of Lilly's Wedding Quilt from Booksneeze.com

The Simple Woman's Daybook March 28,2011

2011-03-28T15:33:00.011-04:00

Outside my window…the sun is shining bright, but it’s still very very chilly!

I am thinking…it’s nice to be able to relax a bit while mom is here to help.

I am thankful...for my church. They have been such a great help with bringing meals and offering to clean my house. Even my bathrooms!!!

From the kitchen...will be another meal from church. All the meals have been yummy to the tummy!

I am wearing...pajamas AGAIN. I wonder if I’ll ever wear real clothes again.

I am remembering...how sweet it was of my neighbor to come over and cut open my cast. The swelling had gotten worse and the doctor suggested we cut it. It felt sooooo much better. She was my favorite person that day. :o)

I am going...to my follow-up appointment this week to check out the progress of my ankle.

I am reading…Mistaken Identity by Don & Sue Van Ryn and Newell, Colleen & Whitney Cerak.

I am praying…that dad can handle being without mom this week. :o)

On my mind…is making sure Phebe has fun, and doesn’t feel like she has to do EVERYTHING around the house.

I am hearing...the fire crackle, Jesse’s training course, Abner’s school pages turning, and my mom rocking in the chair as she reads.

Around the house...babies, family, lots of food, pain pills, and dreams of spring.

Noticing that….my ankle is hurting less.

Pondering these words…

Romans 12:12-14

12Rejoicing in hope; patient in tribulation; continuing instant in prayer; 13Distributing to the necessity of saints; given to hospitality.

One of my favorite things...is finishing the school day.

A picture thought…My wonderful mom helping with the babies.

HCG diet week 5

2011-03-23T14:02:00.002-04:00

I broke my ankle Sunday morning and thought for sure it wouldn't be an issue continuing with the diet. I figured there would be no way to cheat since I couldn't get to the kitchen. Since I've been home I've realized that it's hard enough on my family to take care of EVERYTHING. I can't very well ask them to fix separate meals just for me. Besides, I need to be eating plenty of foods with calcium and protein.

So my plan is to stop for now, keep the 16 pounds off, and as soon as I'm healed start up again.

I refuse to get upset about this. I'm so thankful I only broke my ankle...it could have been so much worse. In a year's time these few weeks will seem like a blink of the eye.

Simple Woman's Daybook

2011-03-21T22:25:00.010-04:00

Outside my window…is pitch darkness and a storm brewing.

I am thinking…I hope I sleep well tonight. I broke my ankle this weekend and the pain is quite intense.

I am thankful...God protected me from getting hurt worse than I was. A broken ankle is much better than a broken back or hip.

From the kitchen...was stuffed shells from my best friend Lorie and Raspberry pie from the best neighbor ever. DELISH!

I am wearing...a new cast and tears of pain.

I am remembering...how helpful everyone has been the last few days.

I am going...from couch to bathroom and bathroom to couch for the next 6 weeks.

I am reading...Superbaby 12 ways to give your child a head start in the first three years. By Dr. Jenn Berman

I am praying…that my ankle heals quickly.

On my mind…is the lesson the Lord is trying to teach me through this time of healing.

I am hearing...the music of Seussical as we watch the musical the kids and I were in a few years ago.

Around the house...walker, crutches, pain pills, and ice packs.

Noticing that….it’s difficult to have others do for me. I hate being waited on.

Pondering these words…
“How did you fall down the stairs?”

I don’t even know how to answer that question.

One of my favorite things...is encouraging words from friends, family, and church family.

A picture thought…My best friend and my best baby.

HCG Diet Weeks 3 - 4

2011-03-16T14:48:00.004-04:00

I didn’t write last week on my diet because, of all days, the internet decided to not work and my sweet hubby (the computer guy) was at work. So I decided to write both weeks this week.

So of last week…at the beginning of week 3 I had lost 14 pounds. I had also lost 5 more inches. This was a total boost for me. I have to admit that I hate this diet, and it would probably go better if I liked it. It’s very difficult to fix a delicious looking meal for my family and then eat blah for myself. I realize that I haven’t been eating blah for a very long time which is why I look the way I do. That, however, does not make me like the diet, or get excited over losing 14 pounds in 14 days.

I’ve been tempted to quit a few times. What prevents me from doing so is realizing how much weight I have lost in such a short time. The daunting part is I have soooooooooo much weight to lose that I don’t see a light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe that’s why at the start of week 4 I’ve not lost my pound a day.

Now here we are in week 4 and I have lost a total of 16 pounds and 1 ½ more inches. This is great, right? It seems strange to me that I’m not excited about this. What other diet could I do and lose this much weight so quickly? 21 days and 16 pounds….can’t shake a stick at that, huh?

This puts me at the half-way mark. Do I continue? Do I still hope for a total of 40 pounds? Do I hope for 32 pounds?

I will continue because I’m not a quitter. I will try to have a better attitude about it because I have to admit that the last 21 days have gone by rather quickly.
My friends are done and onto the next stage and they look great. Plus they get to eat cheese now. :o)

The crazy thing is my husband has "accidentally" lost 8 pounds. How does one lose 8 pounds by accident?

The Simple Woman's Daybook

2011-03-14T15:14:00.005-04:00

Outside my window…the kids are on a run with their dad.

I am thinking…about how much I miss my Uriah.

I am thankful...God has blessed me with such a beautiful healing balm. Asher makes me smile every day.

From the kitchen...will be some type of Italian dish with garlic bread and salad.

I am wearing...a blanket of grief.

I am remembering...how Uriah smelled, felt, looked…

I am going...to a class at church tonight.

I am reading...over 100 sympathy cards sent to us after Uriah’s passing. I was amazed at the number of people who prayed for us. Half the people I don't even know.

I am praying…that my sweet daughter will get the rest that she needs.

On my mind…is my third child.

I am hearing...the music from Uriah’s funeral, Asher squeal and talk from his little chair, the basketball bounce in the driveway as the kids play after their run, and Jesse’s keyboard as he types away.

Around the house...bags ready to go to Goodwill, and less dust. :o)

Noticing that….time heals the pain and the pain lessens, but the pain always remains.

Pondering these words…

Psalms 139 :

14 I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well.
15 My substance was not hid from thee, when I was made in secret, and curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth.
16 Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being unperfect; and in thy book all my members were written, which in continuance were fashioned, when as yet there was none of them.
17 How precious also are thy thoughts unto me, O God! how great is the sum of them!
18 If I should count them, they are more in number than the sand: when I awake, I am still with thee.

One of my favorite things...is listening to Asher talk himself to sleep.

A picture thought…Two of my favorite people.

The Simple Woman's Daybook

2011-03-07T19:30:00.005-05:00

Outside my window…the sun is setting after shining its little heart out all day.

I am thinking…I should probably be more upset about turning 40 tomorrow.

I am thankful...God has blessed me with so many wonderful people in my life…especially my family. I could have been adopted into any family in the world and God chose the perfect fit for me!

From the kitchen...will be tacos prepared by my daughter.

I am wearing...a sense of contentment.

I am remembering...where I was 5, 10, 15 years ago…

I am going...to Asher’s doctor’s appointment tomorrow. Can’t wait to see how well he’s doing.

I am reading...lots of Dr. Seuss books lately.

I am praying…for a continued hedge of protection for my family.

On my mind…is figuring out something I can try and sell on Etsy.

I am hearing...Asher squeal from his jumpy seat, Abner ask for more food, 19 Kids and Counting that Phebe is watching.

Around the house...more and more rooms finished with spring cleaning.

Noticing that….the family working on different character qualities is quite a challenge.

Pondering these words…

John 10:10
The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.

One of my favorite things...is raspberry pie.

A picture thought…Abner had to get rid of his dog…they sure loved each other.

Week 2 of HCG diet

2011-03-02T13:58:00.005-05:00

Here we are in week 2. I have to say that week 1 was a bit harder than I expected it to be. The first couple of days I couldn't seem to keep from cheating a little. I have a feeling I'm paying for that now. However the last half of the week I was a very good girl. The most difficult area is fixing yummy food for my family and diet food for me. I have to admit that my food actually tastes very good. It's just that I miss the sugar and junk food. I will spare you the detailed list that keeps running through my mind, but that home-made pizza last night was a true temptation.

So here are the results:

Drum roll please...

I am down 8 pounds and 3 1/2 inches. I was hoping for 7 pounds, so I'm above my goal and I didn't really set a goal for the inches. I am excited that my clothes already seem to be fitting me differently...in a good way. :o)

So just a little over 5 weeks to go.

I will attempt to do better at drinking more water as that seems to be a struggle for me now. That seems odd to me since normally I can't get enough. I'll try to drown my "food dreams" in water.

The Simple Woman's Daybook

2011-03-01T15:09:00.010-05:00

Outside my window…is gorgeous sunshine and melting snow.

I am thinking...I wish my feet were warm.

I am thankful for...my new part time babysitting job.

From the kitchen...will be home-made pizza.

I am wearing...no socks.

I am remembering...what it was like to walk in the nice warm weather.

I am going...to get groceries later in the week, and not really looking forward to it.

I am reading...Making More Milk by Diana West and Lisa Marasco, and wishing I could produce enough milk to feed my baby.

I am praying…for financial wisdom.

On my mind…is SPRING!!!

I am hearing...Asher bounce and coo in his jumping chair, classical music from the TV, and Abner make strange noises as he does his school work.

Around the house...is TONS of dust. My hubby cleaned out all of the heat radiators with an air compressor which made an extra large abundance of dust throughout the house.

Noticing that…losing weight also gives me more energy.

Pondering these words… "I love you mom!"

One of my favorite things...is watching Asher "talk" to me.

A picture thought… Asher telling us HIS thoughts.

Voices of the Faithful Book 2 by Kim Davis and Beth Moore (& give away!)

2011-03-01T13:47:00.007-05:00

As a child I dreamed of being a missionary. I would imagine myself in all different types of dangerous situations. Many times in my imagination I would be kidnapped, left for dead, robbed at gunpoint, and the such. Reading this devotional brought many of these memories to the forefront of my memory. It amazes me what missionaries must deal with on a daily basis.

"A willingness to go is all they have in common," exclaims Beth Moore, speaking of her friends on the front lines spreading the gospel around the world with whom she collaborated to create Voices of the Faithful.

This book is a 366-day devotional. Each day explores the life in the day of missionaries past and present. It starts out with a verse, then the devotional, and ends with my favorite part...the prayer.

One of the great things about this book is it takes you all around the world. It drops you into situations you can't even imagine. You're able to see and in some ways experience what it is like for these dedicated missionaries.

I have thoroughly enjoyed this book and have used it to inspire me to be more mission minded as well as to pray more often for our missionaries.

I recieved a copy of Voices of the Faithful from Booksneeze.

Leave a comment about the book and I will put you in a drawing for you to receive my review copy. The drawing will be next Monday, March 7.

Day 2 of the HCG diet

2011-02-24T10:09:00.004-05:00

It frustrates me to no end how food comforts me so. I could write a series of books on why I love to eat. I hate to admit that food is my addiction. I could go on forever about what I love about eating...the texture of the food in my mouth...the feeling of it as I swallow...the different spots on my tongue that are satisfied with different flavors...the smell of the food before I take a bite. Yep, I have a problem!!! Eating for me, is hardly ever about being hungry, but about the pleasure it brings.

So some friends of mine started the HCG diet and I have watched the weight fall off of them. I figured if they could do it so could I. This diet lasts 40 days and you are suppose to be able to lose a pound a day. Yep, I would love to drop 40 pounds...not many people wouldn't. The question is, can I do it??? Can I stick to the strictness of the diet? I'm only allowed 500 calories a day. Good grief...I probably ate that at each meal pre-diet.

Yesterday I ate 520 calories. By late evening I wanted food and I wanted it now. My hubby got home from work and fixed himself something to eat...bacon, french toast, tators. I thought I would lose my mind. The piece of fish and 1/2 cup of green beans I had eaten many hours before were but a faint memory. I went and took a hot bath to distract myself. It worked. :o)

I'm suppose to weigh myself every morning. I prayed I lost my 1 pound for the first day. I was so scared to stand on that scale. I almost chickened out. What if I had gained. You may laugh, but a few weeks ago I worked so hard one week to lose a couple of pounds. I watched my calories and moved more, and thought for sure I had lost something. When I stood on the scale, at the end of the week, I had gained 4 pounds. I was so depressed. So this morning all those fears came rushing back. Would I gain, would I stay the same???

I LOST 4 POUNDS!!!! What in the world??? Totally happy!!! Then the realization that I probably won't lose anything for the next few days, since I'm only supposed to lose a pound a day. Oh well, that 4 pound loss felt pretty good. I have to admit it didn't feel as good as I imagined some of my favorite foods would have tasted. ;O)

The Simple Woman's Daybook

2011-02-14T13:54:00.011-05:00

Outside my window…is the beautiful sunshine and warmer weather. Spring can't get here soon enough.

I am thinking...I should have taken my OPC's while I was gone last week. I'm having way too much pain as a result of forgetting them.

I am thankful for...Phebe being home. The family seems complete again.

From the kitchen...will be Chili and cornbread per Phebe's request. Today is her adoption birthday so she gets to chose.

I am wearing...a feeling of distraction.

I am remembering... how it felt to sleep 8 hours straight.

I am going...to get groceries and maybe just maybe a few clothing items. Since having the baby NOTHING fits!

I am reading...Speak Up With Confidence by Carol Kent.

I am praying…for a part-time job.

On my mind…is the dust that never stops accumulating in my house.

I am hearing...the sound machine through the baby monitor from Asher's room. It's playing the sound of the ocean. I'm also hearing Abner practice his guitar and Phebe singing along.

Around the house...is a need for a good spring cleaning.

Noticing that…my family loves me even when I'm difficult to love.

Pondering these words…of Carol Kent encouraging me to take a seminar on speaking in public. I feel the Lord has so much He wants me to share with others. I'm just not sure how to do it.

One of my favorite things...is Asher's giggle.

A picture thought… I can't believe it's been 17 years since Phebe became my little girl. She's been my sunshine ever since.

The Simple Woman's Daybook

2011-02-03T14:42:00.005-05:00

Outside my window…the beautiful sunshine is glistening off of the freshly fallen snow.

I am thinking...of spring.

I am thankful for...our new home.

From the kitchen...will be Split Pea Soup, but considering copying my mother-in-law and making Spicy Cheeseburger Soup.

I am wearing...many layers of emotions.

I am remembering...playing in the snow as a child. Flossie and I would attempt to build forts, but they never worked. We always slept better after those snow fort building days.

I am going...to stay home and attempt to stay warm.

I am reading...Overcoming Depression, by Neil and JoAnne Anderson.

I am praying…for my children, and wisdom in raising them.

On my mind…a list of things I need to get done. Actually "want" to get done.

I am hearing...the sound machine through the baby monitor from Asher's room. It's playing the sound he heard in the womb. It's becoming very annoying. :o) He seems to enjoy it though. I'm also hearing Abner practice his guitar.

Around the house...there are no more signs of Christmas decorations, but empty spots waiting for Valentines decor.

Noticing that…my family's mood always reflects mine.

Pondering these words…

"A GOOD name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and loving favour rather than silver and gold." Proverbs 22:1

One of my favorite things...is to be home alone.

A picture thought… Missing my mom today, and loving that my baby boy looks a little bit like me. He's the first person I've ever been able to say that about.

Yet another gift

2011-01-25T22:44:00.007-05:00

I've wanted to write about Asher's birth for some time now, but never seem to find the time. So let me tell you about the day of his birth. Well, days really. I wondered if that baby would ever be born.

We had an appointment with Maternal Fetal Medicine late Friday morning. We had been there the week prior with bags packed thinking we would have the baby 5 weeks early. The docs at MFM said there must have been a misunderstanding and that they weren't planning on inducing that day. I was heartbroken. I had been a nervous wreck throughout the entire pregnancy. The further along I got the more worried I became. I know I should have just simply trusted in the Lord, but my flesh truly won that battle. I was scared. I didn't know how I could handle losing another baby. I had non-stress tests twice a week for over two months. So many times they would do the test and tell me that the baby wasn't responding or responding enough and rush me down the hall for an ultrasound. They would have to buzz my stomach in an attempt to get him to respond. I remember one time in particular. I was planning on heading out for my nephew's wedding after the non-stress test. Asher had other plans. He didn't respond "enough" during the test so off I went for yet another ultrasound. He wasn't responding for that either. I began to think that they would rush me for a C-section. He started to respond more but still not up to their standards. They said they were watching for his breathing activity and couldn't detect any. They said they were required to watch for breathing for 1/2 hour. I asked what would happen if he didn't breath during that time. They said they would send me home. WHAT??? So I could go home and have a nervous breakdown? I think not! I prayed my little heart out that God would make him breathe. Twenty-five minutes into the half hour he showed signs of breathing. Sigh... I was a basket case. I cried all the way home. I didn't make it to the wedding.

After all of that, when they said they would induce at 35 weeks I was ecstatic. No more worries. Then they claimed to never have said that. Grrrrr! We went ahead and did an amniocentesis that day to check his lung development. His lungs were not ready. I was devastated. Not only was I nervous, scared and apprehensive, but I was in excruciating pain. Living with lupus and fibromyalgia while pregnant is not an easy thing. So home I went with a very heavy heart.

Back a week later. We did the non-stress test. He looked good. I did enjoy all the NST's because I was not able to feel this baby move due to an anterior placenta. We then headed in for an ultrasound. The tech and I didn't talk much that day. This was unusual because I had seen them for both pregnancies and we always chatted up a storm. I think I was too tired and hurting too much to make conversation. The tech was concerned, but I didn't know this at the time. Next was talking to the MFM doctor. She said she wanted us to go over and get observed at the hospital. I questioned this because all appeared fine. She said it was just so they could monitor me longer at the hospital. Ooookaaaay!!!

So off to the hospital we went. I was actually starting to get excited. Could this be the day? My OB called and ordered Pitocin, and informed us that the umbilical cord was wrapped around the baby’s neck twice. This was about 1pm on Friday afternoon. Suddenly my husband started to get nervous and wanted to wait another week. To be quite honest I wanted to kill him. I had been pregnant for 76 weeks with only a 6 week break. I didn't even kind of want to wait one more week. They did tell us that the baby's lungs would probably not be ready. I didn't care. I knew that he would be fine. Besides, if the cord was wrapped twice around his neck how would I know if he was dead or alive during another long week? We talked, we ignored each other, we argued, and finally my tears took over and Jesse agreed it was probably best. :o) If anyone knows me at all you know I'm not a crier, so this isn't normal for me to burst into tears.

They started the Pitocin then and I had contractions on and off, but nothing productive. By midnight they stopped the Pitocin and started Cervidil and told me to get some rest. I sent my hubby home, and fell asleep until about 5am. The charge nurse asked if I minded moving to another room. They could have moved me to the roof...I didn't care. I was going to have a baby. She moved me to a huge corner room and we talked for hours. It was wonderful. She listened to how Uriah passed away, we talked about our adopted children, and finally about the upcoming birth. She walked to the whiteboard and wrote my goal. "A healthy, crying baby"...She got it...she knew what I NEEDED. I had never heard Uriah cry. I needed to hear Asher cry.

Jesse got there late morning. They were supposed to start Pitocin again around noon. It didn't happen until after 1pm. I still didn't have consistent contractions. I walked around a bit, used the exercise ball, and tried lying in different positions. Nothing... Finally, around 5pm contractions started to become more consistent. They weren't able to keep him on the monitors so they decided to do internal monitoring. I always said I would NEVER do that, but I did it. Boy, did I love hearing his little heartbeat on the monitor. It's how I knew he was ok. They came in and gave me an epidural which was the wisest decision I had made up to that point. Once it was placed the fibro and lupus pain was gone. I couldn't stop crying. I felt like such a big baby. What a wimp. I couldn't help it...I tried to make myself not cry but it felt so good to not have pain. Totally tears of joy. So by then the contractions were consistent and strong. He was coming, but not fast. I just wasn't dilating. The nurses repositioned me every 1/2 hour. At 9:30 they came in to sit me straight up. My wonderful nurse Julie said this always works. She walked out of the room and all of a sudden Asher's heart rate was hardly detectable. The nurse came rushing in and quickly put my bed back to a flat position. It didn't help. Some more nurses came rushing into the room and they got my numb body up on all fours. Still his heart rate didn't improve.

I'll admit at this point I wasn't acting very spiritual. I should have had all faith, but I had all fear. I started to sob uncontrollably. They threw an oxygen mask on me. The on-call doctor rushed in, checked me and headed across the hall to prepare for a C-section. I was crying, and my nurse put her arm around my shoulders. She whispered in my ear over and over..."Hannah, it's going to be ok...Hannah, it's going to be ok..." I cried and prayed. I remember praying, "Lord, I know I've been praying to do Your will, but right now I WANT my baby. Please let him live. I can't lose another one. Please Lord!!!"

They rolled me over and started to prepare me for the C-section. I had started to shake uncontrollably. They kept putting warm blankets on me but I couldn’t stop shaking. I could barely talk. Julie decided to check me once more and started to laugh. "You're complete...that's why you're shaking. His head is right here. Get the doctor in here!!!"

The doctor rushed in, got setup, and said, "Breathe Hannah...don't push!"

"I'm not pushing!"

Out he came...right into the doctor’s hands.

Then they placed him on my chest. I didn't get that with Uriah. Can I just say I have never been that happy in my entire life?!?!? He was squeaking. It sort of sounded like a mouse. I held him for about a half hour. Then they cleaned him up, gave him oxygen and took him to the NICU.

The Lord is so amazing. He gave me a perfect little boy. Yes, it was scary, but it caused me to rely even more on my Savior. What a beautiful gift He has given me AGAIN. This time He let me keep him. He may still take this baby, but whatever His plan is for Asher I'm content. I would much prefer never seeing another one of my children die, but God knows far better than I do what's best for me.

Thank you again for all those who prayed for us, and feel free to continue to keep us in your prayers.

Happy Birthday Uriah

2011-01-03T00:53:00.006-05:00

For those who haven't heard, the Lord blessed us with a beautiful baby boy whom we named Asher. He was born about a month early and had a few lung issues, but only needed to stay in the NICU for a week. He's such a good baby. I never knew babies could be this good. He's such a blessing to my heart. My friend calls him my healing balm...I totally agree.

Have you ever watched a baby stare off into the distance and get a big ole grin on their face? It's the cutest thing. Asher does it quite often. I told my family that he sees the angels around us that we can't see. I sometimes wonder if it's really his big brother Uriah telling him stories of Heaven. I often whisper in Asher's ear to tell Uriah how much I love him and miss him.

Sometimes it's the little things like that that gets me through the tough days. I have to admit the "tough days" or my "Uriah days" are less now that Asher is here, but I still have them. When I look at Asher I don't see Uriah. I see Uriah's little brother. Asher is not a replacement because no one can ever replace another person. Asher has very straight hair compared to Uriah's curls. Asher is much smaller as well. They both have my mouth. They both have my hubby's nose. I wonder if Uriah would have had the shrill screech of a cry that Asher has. That's what I missed the most...Uriah never cried. In fact, while in labor with Asher the goal they wrote on the board for me was "A healthy CRYING baby." I couldn't wait to hear his little cry.

My husband and I have had a difficult time trying to decide what to do to celebrate Uriah's birth each year. Some people have suggested baking a cake, but no one in my house even likes cake. We thought about releasing balloons at his grave site, but now we live so far away we feel that's a bit foolish. So we have decided to write him letters every year. Letters from each of us telling him what we think he must be doing in Heaven, how we imagine he might be had he lived, and what we are doing in our lives now.

I wonder what will ever become of this book. I wonder how many generations will keep it up. Will my great grandchildren even know about Uriah? I hope that because of the book they WILL know him.

Happy birthday my precious son. I love you more than words can say. I miss you so much that it hurts. I cannot wait to see you and hold you and kiss you! I'm sure this past year has been truly awesome for you. You are with so many people that we love, but the most awesome part is being with our Savior. I wonder how often He has let you catch glimpses of us. Did you know Grandpa had a heart attack? Did you know we moved? We got a dog. Abner is doing great in school and with his guitar. Phebe is so beautiful and doing great on finishing up her schooling. Asher got your nickname as his middle name. Daddy did a wonderful job fixing up Asher's room. Uriah, enjoy every moment and listen to all the wisdom from all those around you. I'll be there before you know it, and we will spend eternity together.

I love you little Oliver. Happy birthday!

If I Could Ask God Anything, by Kathryn Slattery

2011-01-02T23:35:00.003-05:00

“If I Could Ask God Anything” could be a good resource for parents and teachers, if used with a little caution. It covers questions about a variety of spiritual topics, including God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit, the Bible, prayer, the church, and others. I think it would be best used for devotions, as it makes for interactive devotions because the questions/answers invite discussions about them. I appreciate the numerous scripture references for many of the questions.

If you’re not going to use it for devotions, it would be best to read through the book yourself before giving it your child, as some of the questions/answers might not be a good fit for your Biblical beliefs. The introduction of the book says that it is “written for children of all denominations,” so this opens up the possibility of some of the answers containing incorrect doctrine. There were at least a couple of questions/answers that I didn’t care for. One of them was the question, “Why did Jesus have to die?” The answer three-paragraph answer basically boils down to, “Because some people didn’t understand Him so they killed Him.” No mention is made of Jesus dying for our sins or of His great sacrifice for us. Other parts of the book talk about Jesus dying for our sins, but for some reason this one didn’t.

I received this book free from Thomas Nelson Publishers as part of their BookSneeze.com book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own.

In Other Words

2010-10-19T20:57:00.002-04:00

“The spirit of complaint is born out of an unwillingness to trust God with today. Like the Israelites, it means you are spending your time looking back toward Egypt or wishing for the future, all the while missing what God is doing right now.”

From: One in a Million by Priscilla Shirer

Wow, what a quote huh? I don't know, maybe it's just me. I often find myself doing just that. I have never thought about how it starts. I have many times asked myself why it's so easy to complain, but never seemed able to supply an answer. Why is it so easy to find the bad in life instead of the good?

Sure, we all have things that have happened in our lives that upset, anger, sadden, and confuse us. We also have many things that cause us to be happy, at peace, appreciative, and encouraged. We seem to go flying right by those emotions and into the wishing mode. You know the one where we can't wait to fit into that certain outfit, get together with our bff, or finally enjoy that great vacation.

I met a lady this week who had just found out about my son passing away. She hugged me and said, "I know how you feel; I lost a baby too. That's why I look the way I do. I've gained all this weight from sitting around crying and eating." When I saw her that's not what I saw, but it's obviously how she felt. I went to my husband and asked him if I hadn't grieved correctly for Uriah. Should I still be crying daily? Should I have no desire to go places? Should I not look forward to the future? He assured me that we all grieve in our own way. This; however, caused me to want to help this woman. What could I do or say to encourage her to find hope? Maybe a simple hug and smile will get the ball rolling.

The question I needed to ask myself was not did I grieve correctly but in what negativity am I stuck? I can be so negative about all my physical pain. I can also live a "what if" life. What if I had never met my wonderful husband? What if we never get to go to Disney? What if I never had to deal with physical, mental, and emotional pain?

The key is obvious. Enjoy what God is doing now. We live in a wonderful neighborhood in a beautiful house. We have a terrific church to attend. We have two healthy children and one more to be born at any time. We have job security. We have a God who loves us unconditionally. We have great friends to spend our days with. We have God's creation to enjoy daily. Boy, the list could go on and on.

So I guess instead of worrying about the future and what my New Years resolution is going to be, I can begin to enjoy today...every day.

Join in on the discussion of the above quote with this weeks’ In ‘Other’ Words hostess, Debbie on her blog, Heart Choices along with the other bloggers who share as well.

Jewelry Fixes Everything

2010-08-04T17:43:00.002-04:00

I have had quite a few sales jobs during my lifetime. I've sold candles, vacuums, food, cleaning products, and probably some stuff I can't even remember. I tended to do a pretty good job at selling things, but never enjoyed it at all. I do enjoy having in-home parties that showcase certain products. I had a party a few years ago and invited 40 people. My mom is the only one who came, so I said I would NEVER host another party. Well, never say never. I ended up hosting another party a couple of weeks ago. I invited 122 people but only 7 people came. No complaints though...I was able to get what I wanted for free. One of the ladies that had had a party in my home 4 or 5 years ago called me this evening to see if I would be willing to join her team and sell with her. I declined and explained that I was enjoying being a stay-at-home mom plus I was 6 months pregnant. She asked the ages of my other children and exclaimed that I sure knew how to spread them out. She said that I probably wasn't use to being pregnant again. I went on to explain that I had had a baby in January but that he had only lived 2 days. Her reply was, "Well, you know jewelry fixes everything!"

I hung up in total shock. Jewelry fixes everything? If that's the case I want to sell all I own and go to the nearest jewelry store.

I know this woman and I know she is a believer. I'm assuming she wasn't expecting to hear such sad news and just didn't know how to reply. This, of course, got me to thinking about what does fix everything. I know that God's grace, truth, and love fixes it all. I also know that just because something is fixed doesn't necessarily mean there aren't noticeable repairs. Just looking at what I have tried to repair with Elmer's glue will prove that.

So what needed to be repaired after Uriah died? My heart. There was quite a nice size wound there, and it is still healing. There are also other noticeable scars on my heart. Scars I have brought on myself and scars from others. While doing a Bible study a few weeks ago I realized that those "cracks" can be repaired by God so that no one would ever know they were there. The woman teaching the class was talking about the verse in John that says, "He must increase, but I must decrease." She drew a heart on the paper and drew in a bunch of cracks. In the spaces she wrote in some hurts. There were bitterness, anger, rejection, etc. We talked about how when we give these hurts over to the Lord He not only takes those hurts away but fills them with Himself. When He does this our hearts are able to enlarge and this is how we grow in Him.

I saw a show once on enlarged hearts and they were explaining that this was a very unhealthy thing to have. They are correct if they are talking about our physical heart, but dead wrong when speaking of the spiritual heart. My question then is, "How large can I grow my heart?" I want to tone up my heart. I want my heart to be the largest muscle in my body. Not large with hurts, but large with His peace.

Jewelry doesn't fix everything but if my hubby is reading this...it does help.

The Simple Woman's Daybook

2010-08-02T20:36:00.007-04:00

FOR TODAY

Outside my window... is a bird feeder with a female Cardinal filling her tummy…again!

I am thinking... I need to be more patient.

I am thankful for... a quiet house.

From the kitchen... is homemade noodles, gravy, chicken, mashed potatoes, and fresh blueberry pie.

I am wearing... eternal love from my Heavenly Father.

I am creating... a new nursery. It is very bittersweet.

I am going... to enjoy my time at home!

I am reading... nothing right now. I haven’t read anything in quite awhile. This seems to bother my sweet hubby so I guess it’s time for me to pick up a book.

I am praying... for a healthy baby boy in just 15 more weeks.

I am hearing... the hum of the ceiling fan and my husband building a closet in the basement.

Around the house... is lots of activities…babysitting, little siblings running in and out ALL day, my own children asking to do this or that, and my hubby.

One of my favorite things... is feeling the new baby move inside of me.

A few plans for the rest of the week: Babysit, Bible study, voting, dentist appointments, hair appointments, guitar lessons…

Here is picture for thought I am sharing...

Little baby boy Olson at around 18 weeks.

You can read other daybooks at Peggy's The Simple Woman's Daybook site.

Aching Arms

2010-07-11T20:58:00.004-04:00

There’s a baby in our church that was born a few weeks after Uriah passed away. His name is Malachi and I just love him to pieces. I remember when I heard he was born how much I “needed” to hold a baby. His mom, Emily, has been so sweet about letting me get my baby fix whenever I need it. I have to admit that I often feel guilty for asking to hold him. Malachi was born into a very large family and there are more than enough arms reaching for him at any given time.

I was reminded the other day, on Uriah’s six month birthday, that Malachi also suffered a loss. He lost a chance of a true friend to grow up with. I have many times thought of them learning to walk together, trying to say words, attempting to ride bikes, or shoot their BB guns together. Maybe they would have gone hunting together or learned to play guitar. Who knows, maybe they wouldn’t have even liked each other, but it’s a lot more exciting to imagine them as fast friends.

A lady in church passed by me today and she had Malachi in her arms. I was talking with someone else, but my arm automatically reached out to touch his peach fuzz hair. My heart and arms ached and I could no longer focus on the conversation I was having.

On my way home from church my mind revolved around Malachi and Uriah…of what may have been. I started to think about my little boy and how much I missed him. I wondered what he would be doing now. Would he be trying to sit up alone, sleeping through the night, would he have been a fussy baby, would he prefer being with his dad or siblings? Then my mind went to where he is. He is in total perfection in Heaven. He is with our Savior. He knows no sin, hurt, or betrayal. He’s seen and heard things I can only dream about. I would never want him to have to return to this sinful world, but my arms still ache.

So I looked at my imperfect love for my son and compared it to the perfect love of my Heavenly Father. There really is no comparison. I began to wonder how God must feel when I’m not close to Him. If my arms ache for my child how much more must His arms ache for us! Did God’s arms ache for Uriah? Is that why He took him home so soon? Do God’s arms ache for us when we turn from His Will? When we say God doesn’t care or God isn’t real what kind of ache does He feel? I often imagine God on His throne with his arms outstretched for us. Is He trying to reach us and we place ourselves out of His reach or push Him away? The wonderful thing about God is He’s always ready to hold us whenever it is that we decide to come to our senses and turn to Him. What a perfect Father…what a perfect love. Is this what it means when God says, “I am a jealous God”? Deuteronomy 5:9

One thing I really hated after Uriah died was people saying, “Just think, Uriah’s in Jesus’ arms now!” I know it was supposed to help me feel better, but I did not really want to hear that someone else was holding Uriah, even if it was God. I no longer feel that way. I’m thankful that Uriah is in Heaven. I miss him with every part of my being, but I would never in a million years want to pacify my selfish feelings and pull him from the presence of Christ.

So for now I will fill the ache of my arms with little Malachi and in just a few months I will be holding my new baby. Isn’t God amazing for supplying just what we need when we need it?

Catching Up

2010-06-09T16:22:00.000-04:00

Wow, I can't believe how long it's been since I've posted on my blog. Time flies when you're having fun I guess.

Let's see if I can quickly go over the last couple months to catch everyone up.

For those that don't know I am expecting again. I'm 16 weeks along as of today. My due date is November 23rd, but my doc plans on inducing me a week early. For whatever reason this pregnancy has brought on quite the bout of morning sickness. I actually have to take meds this time to head off some of the nausea. It's been making me feel pretty miserable, but I know it will all be worth it in the end.

In the last couple of months the devil has really tried to attack. Not only has he been working his wiles with me he has been busy with friends of mine. I hate having to deal with him, but I hate watching my friends struggle even more.

While helping one friend I was reminded of what grace and truth meant. Pastor Mead actually had me explain to her what my take was on the whole grace and truth factor. I wasn't really sure how to explain it. I knew how I felt, but putting my feelings into words can sometimes prove challenging. I tend to use different experiences in my life to help explain things. So this is what I came up with.

My daughter is adopted from Haiti. She is beautiful and a true gift from God. I have not really been the mom to her that I should have been. I never had a problem telling her the truth. I would quite often point out what she was doing wrong. In fact, I did this way too often. All I ever gave her was truth. Because of my harsh tongue we don't have much of a relationship and she struggles daily with a very low self esteem.

A friend has a girl who often hears she has never done anything wrong. Her dad tells her she is perfect and seemingly only shows her grace. This little girl is not a whole lot of fun to be around. She doesn't seem happy. She's always looking for some type of approval, but when she gets it she's not content. This little girl is shown all grace without the truth. She has moments of being thoughtful, but usually is quite thoughtless and mean...especially to her father.

My son is the apple of my eye. We have a very good relationship. He is shown grace and truth all the time. I have no problem pointing out the truth to him even when it hurts. I also have no problem showing him grace. I love to show him grace and sometimes wish I didn't have to give him the truth. Because I spread the grace and truth out evenly with my son he has a very good attitude on life. He's very happy, lovable, content, and has quite good self esteem. Mind you he's not perfect by any stretch of the imagination.

Even though I see what I have done with my children I still struggle with showing grace to my daughter. I guess it's a rut I have gotten myself into and definitely one I need to pull myself out of. I have noticed when I do try to show her grace she can't accept it. When she chooses not to accept it I often want to go back to the truth-only way.

This makes me think about me as a child of God. So many times in the last 16 years He has poured His grace on me and I have shoved it away. I was bound and determined that I didn't deserve anything good in my life. As Christians we are suppose to be Christ-like. So I need to follow Christ's example and continually pour grace on my daughter. It took me 16 years to see God's grace. I pray with all my heart it won't take my daughter that long to see and accept my grace.

I have heard many things the last couple of months that people have said about me. Things that have hurt me to the core. Untruths that I don't know how to fix. Proverbs 22:1a has always been a verse I've kept close to heart. A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches. I want to be known as a caring, empathetic, honest, and Christ-honoring Christian. Instead quite the opposite is being said of me. I asked my husband why people choose to believe these untruths. He thinks it's probably because it's much easier and more exciting for people to believe sinful rumors about someone than it is to go to the person and find out the truth. He's probably right. Knowing what some people choose to believe about me hurts so deeply. A few friends have told me not to take it personally, but I'm not really sure how to do that.

One of our pastors has been teaching a class on not living in fear. One of the points he made was to take every thought captive. Sounds easy enough. It really was until about 2 months ago. I now find it quite difficult to take my thoughts captive. My mind easily returns to the hurts and the thoughtless remarks. So I have found that when I saturate myself in God's word (truth) I'm able to then be comforted by the Holy Spirit (grace).

John 1:14 And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father,) full of grace and truth.

The Simple Woman's Daybook

2010-04-05T18:51:00.006-04:00

Outside my window... daffodils are blooming and the grass is greening up from the rain.

I am thinking...of a friend dealing with the loss of her baby and wishing I could take some of the pain from her.

I am thankful for...a loving Savior who understands it all!

From the learning rooms...lots of complaints of not having a spring break.

From the kitchen...is split pea soup and yeast rolls.

I am wearing...an ace bandage on my sprained ankle.

I am going...to try and get to more spring cleaning this week.

I am reading...Empty Arms by: Pam Vredevelt

I am hoping...and praying for a healthy pregnancy and baby!

I am hearing...the birds singing and the kids laughing as they shovel manure onto the garden.

Around the house...is rest at the first of the week gearing up for having extra kids here for 8 days.

One of my favorite things...is making my dad laugh!

A few plans for the rest of the week…trying to stay positive and deal with the 24 hour morning sickness.

Here is picture for thought I am sharing...

All the kids having one of their conferences on the trampoline.

You can read other daybooks at Peggy's The Simple Woman's Daybook site.

Jesus Bring the Rain

2010-04-02T22:23:00.002-04:00

My hubby had this on his blog and I had to snag it. The rain hurts, but the peace it brings makes it so worth it. Thank you Lord for the rain! You are my Almighty God.

In Other Words - My God-given gifts

2010-03-23T09:08:00.004-04:00

“Don’t waste your life trying to fit into a “gift box” that feels too big or too small.
Your God-given gift perfectly fits your personality
and is your purpose and position to win victory.”

~ My Prince Will Come
by Sheri Rose Shepherd

After reading this quote I tried to figure out what my God-given gift is. I don’t know if I’m too tired or what, but I couldn’t figure it out. I decided to Google “Spiritual Gifts”, but sadly that didn’t help me either.

Ministry (office) gifts: Apostle, Prophet, Evangelist, Pastor and Teacher.
Motivational (practical) gifts: Service, Exhortation, Giving, Leadership, Mercy, Helps and Administration.
Charismatic (spiritual) gifts: Wisdom, Knowledge, Discernment, Prophecy, Tongues, Interpretation, Faith, Healing and Miracles.

I know God has given me a gift or gifts…I’m just not at all interested in figuring out what it is right now. So I decided I would focus on other gifts God has given me.

٠ God has given me the gift of salvation. It amazes me that He has made it possible for me to confess my sins and live with Him eternally.

٠ He has also given me the gift of love. So often I have pushed this gift away. How hurtful this must have been to Him. Can you imagine giving someone a gift and they refuse to take it?

٠ What about the people He has placed in my life? I’m adopted into a wonderful Christian family that loves me. I have a husband that loves me unconditionally. I have three beautiful children…two on earth and one waiting for me in heaven.

Then I began to think about my gift to God. What have I given Him? When I adopted my daughter and gave birth to my first son I had my pastor dedicate them to the Lord in a church service. I recall while I was pregnant with my last baby I told the Lord that little Uriah was His as well. I truly meant that, but never thought that God would require me to hand Uriah over so soon after he was born. So did I really mean what I said? I’ve pondered this the last few days. I have heard many messages about giving ourselves to the Savior, and I have done that. For me that was simple. Giving God my child, a part of me, was not so simple.

I finished a book today entitled Safely Home by Randy Alcorn. It was amazing! While I soaked in the wisdom from this book I began to realize that it was an honor and privilege to give my son to my heavenly Father. I’m so thankful that my precious baby is in God’s arms. I must be truthful and add that my arms ache for Uriah, but the ache is overpowered by the gratitude that God chose MY son. I get to spend eternity with Uriah. So if God can enjoy and love him a bit sooner than I anticipated I gladly give my gift of Uriah to Him. I know that my Savior tells Uriah daily how much I love and miss him.

So praise the Lord I had a gift to give, and now I will try to work on figuring out what other gifts He has blessed me with so I can live victoriously.

Deborah from Chocolate & Coffee is hosting In Other Words today. Visit her site for more posts about the quote at the top of this post.

The Simple Woman's Daybook

2010-03-15T22:31:00.004-04:00

For today, Tuesday March 16th...

Outside my window... is much warmer weather. It’s supposed to be in the high 50’s all week and sunshine. Thank you Lord!!!!

I am thinking...I need to start exercising more. Walking is good but a few aerobics each day wouldn’t hurt. Well, it will hurt, but it will help!

I am thankful for...a wonderful husband who loves me even when I’m unlovable.

From the learning rooms...a little extra work every day so we can take a day off.

From the kitchen...Sloppy Joes and French fries.

I am wearing...a gray blanket of grief.

I am going...someplace every day this week. Not my idea of fun. I much prefer staying home.

I am reading...Safely Home by Randy Alcorn.

I am hoping...and praying that I won’t allow bitterness to set in.

I am hearing...my husband make a grilled cheese sandwich for his evening snack. Poor guy is trying to gain weight and I think it’s more difficult for him to gain than it is for me to lose and that’s saying a lot!

Around the house...is ordering seeds and plants for the garden.

One of my favorite things...is remembering my little Uriah.

A few plans for the rest of the week…trying to keep my head above water.

Here is picture for thought I am sharing...

Two of my favorite people!

You can read other daybooks at Peggy's The Simple Woman's Daybook site.

In Other Words

2010-03-09T11:39:00.005-05:00

“There’s somethin I learned when I was homeless:
Our limitation is God’s opportunity.
When you get all the way to the end of your rope and there ain’t nothin you can do,
that’s when God takes over.”

~ Denver Moore
Same Kind of Different As Me
(co-written with Ron Hall, with Lynn Vincent)

This quote makes me wonder why it takes us getting “to the end of our rope” to let God take over. I wonder if we would allow Him to take over before we are at our wits end if that would make it a lot easier to get a little further up the rope of life.

This week I decorated one of the walls in our home with the verse from 2 Cor. 5:7, “For we walk by faith not by sight.” When I look back on my life and the different paths that I have taken I ponder as to which ones were made more difficult because I waited too long to walk by faith or to include my heavenly Father.

A pastor friend of mine preached a message once from Psalms 23 and focused in on the paths that we take…”He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.” We sometimes conclude that we are given one path to follow during our time here on earth. The Bible clearly states that it’s paths - plural. I do believe that because of choices and sins we make and commit that our paths sometimes have to change. In other words, God may have originally wanted us to take one path when our ways got in the way and caused us to take another path. This doesn’t mean that we have gotten so lost in our daily walk that God can’t use us. What it means is that we need to get back on track. We need to focus on what it is God wants for us now.

So if faith is a “walk” then I must move. I can’t sit back and imagine faith…I must participate in order to be faithful. It is an action. I realize that I must remind myself of this very often. I have to “walk” in faith down the “paths” that Christ has chiseled out for me. If only I would pay closer attention to my GPS (God’s Plans for Saints)!

Simple Woman's Daybook

2010-03-08T13:51:00.001-05:00

For today March 8, 2010

Outside my window...the driveway is a nice big mud puddle. This means spring will soon be upon us.

I am thinking...birthdays aren’t as much fun as when I was little.

I am thankful for...the weather getting warmer so I can take my walks outside instead of in the basement on the treadmill.

From the learning rooms...line segments, right angles, perimeters, polygons, area…

From the kitchen...Papa Johns pizza for my birthday dinner…yum yum…and no work for me!

I am wearing...sorrow with a hope for a bright tomorrow!

I am creating...a new way of thinking.

I am going...to my Bible study on Tuesday and can’t wait.

I am reading...Morning Will Come by Sandy Day.

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

I am hearing...my daughter doing dishes, my husband thanking me for a good meal, and my son whining because he can’t watch something on television.

Around the house...is re-organizing and cleaning the basement. It tends to be a catch-all spot for EVERYTHING!

One of my favorite things...is holding John and Emily’s new baby boy Malachi.

A few plans for the rest of the week…lunch with my parents, food shopping for my dad’s trip to Haiti, Bible study, guitar lessons for Abner, sleep-over for the kiddos, and a ski trip for Phebe.

Here is picture for thought I am sharing...

A couple of deer in our backyard last spring.

To read other Simple Woman's Daybooks visit the host page.

The Simple Woman's Daybook

2010-02-28T23:38:00.006-05:00

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.

Phebe Louise

2010-02-24T21:14:00.006-05:00

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...

Uriah's last day

2010-02-10T21:50:00.006-05:00

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.

The Peace of God

2010-02-01T14:24:00.005-05:00

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!

Finding Phebe

2010-01-30T20:29:00.003-05:00

I know I need to finish writing about Uriah’s last day, but I can’t seem to get myself to do that. So instead I thought I would write about another important day in my life.

When I was 22 years old I was able to go and spend a summer with the Walls, a missionary family in Haiti. I had been there the year before with my family and fell in love with the country. Before I left that summer my mom suggested that I should try to adopt a baby while I was there. I passed this on to the Walls, and they were very willing to help me in my endeavors. The Walls had been in Haiti for close to 20 years. Their two youngest daughters, Dorothy and Rebecca, were still there with them. Rebecca and I really hit it off. We had such a great time working with Mrs. Wall in the clinic, teaching an English class, and teaching a Bible class for the children. So many people would come in to the clinic with such serious medical problems and poor Mrs. Wall didn’t have much to work with, but always seemed to come up with something. Many of the mothers that came would hand their babies to me and ask me to take them. My dad had informed me, before I left, that if I was going to adopt I couldn’t adopt a boy. I really wanted a son, but knew my father knew best. Every baby that was handed to me was a boy. I kept praying that the Lord would help me find the baby He wanted for me.

Rebecca was 17 years old and was starting to miss her nanny, Elia, whom she had grown up with. Elia lived in Cap Haitian, about a four-hour drive away. Before I arrived Rebecca had asked her dad if she could go visit Elia and he had told her no. Once I arrived she had her mom ask if Rebecca and myself could go visit so that I could see what it was like to live in the “city.” He again said no. Because she figured he wouldn’t tell me ‘no’ she had me ask him some time later. He told me we could go but not right now. Week after week went by and Rebecca and I were beginning to think he would never let us go. After I had been there for six weeks he came to us one Saturday evening and said we would be traveling to Cap Haitian the next day to go to church, and that Rebecca and I would be able to stay with Elia until Tuesday when he came back to meet the plane for supplies. To be quite honest we were a bit upset. We had hoped to stay down there for a week or two, so two days didn’t seem like much.

Now that I look back I can see that he was worried. There was much unrest in Haiti. In fact, only a few months later all Americans were forced to leave the country because it wasn’t safe for them to be there. The Haitians were not happy about many things and decided killing the Americans was the answer. At the time I knew that it was a bit dangerous but really didn’t have any idea how much danger we were really in.

When we arrived to Elia’s house after church we had dinner and then Bro. and Mrs. Wall headed back up the mountain. We sat with Elia and planned out the next two days. That evening Rebecca and I wanted to go to the English church. She said that should be ok. On Monday we planned on going to hospitals and orphanages to see if I could find a baby girl. Then Tuesday morning we would head out to the airport to meet Rebecca’s dad. We were about to get ready for church when Elia informed us that she had changed her mind because she didn’t feel we would be safe. Rebecca and I begged her to change her mind. In the middle of our pleading we heard gunshots. She said, “See…it just isn’t safe here after dark.” We asked her what we were going to do. We didn’t want to just sit in her house too scared to go anywhere. So she said she thought it would be safe to walk down the street to her sister’s house and visit with them. I have to admit I wasn’t too happy about this. I only spoke English so the only people I could talk with were Rebecca and Elia. I had longed to go the English church so that I could sing songs and hear a sermon in a language that I spoke.

We headed out for her sister’s house. It was such a nice evening. It was no longer scorching hot outside and there were kids running around, pointing and laughing at us. We stood in front of Jacquelyn’s house and chatted and played with the kiddos. We went in the house because the sun was going down and it wasn’t safe. It was dark inside, but as we entered I could see that the one room had its walls covered with magazine pages. Rebecca explained that this was their wallpaper. There was a dark hallway that led to the back door. Along the wall was a cot that Elia told Rebecca and I to sit on. She stepped out the back door and we sat and stared at the wall in front of us and attempted to read the Haitian magazine pages. I could hear everyone talking in Creole in the back yard. It sounded like there were 4 or 5 people out there. I asked Rebecca what they were talking about. She said they were talking about me wanting to adopt. She said, “Wait a minute…someone just said there is a baby out there with them.” I stood up to peek out the door. There were a handful of people sitting on the ground and in the middle of their little circle was an old stained mattress. It looked like one from an old pullout couch. In the center of this grubby mattress was a little baby.

I asked Rebecca to see if they would let me hold the baby. They said I could but I could tell there was a problem. Rebecca informed me that they were afraid the baby would wet on me since they didn’t have a diaper. The baby was naked with a very thin peach colored bath towel that had been ripped in two wrapped around her bottom. I told them I wouldn’t die if she wet on me. They thought that was funny and handed the baby over. I had to peak under the towel to see if it was a boy or a girl. It was a little girl. She was so cute. She looked up at me with her almost black eyes. I asked for her name. It was Weedlyn. I started to talk and coo to little Weedlyn and she started to smile and coo right back. She had big ole dimples in her cheeks. I thought she looked to be about 4-6 weeks old. I have no recollection of how long I sat playing with Weedlyn, but I was sad when it was time to head back to Elia’s house. The mother of the baby, Linda, said if I wanted I could take Weedlyn with me and she would pick her up later. We decided to do just that. Linda came and got her quite a few hours later, and poor little Weedlyn was getting quite hungry.

After Linda left Elia told us that Linda was considering giving Weedlyn to me. I couldn’t believe it. I started asking all kinds of questions. I found out that Weedlyn was actually three months old and that Linda had just arrived in Cap Haitian from the mountains to let her family see the baby. Linda was only 15 years old. Her father was coming into the city the next day and Linda had to get his permission before she could say for sure. I remember going to bed that night praying that this would be God’s will, and that little Weedlyn would be mine.

Uriah, day three

2010-01-25T00:16:00.005-05:00

I find it amazing that things I once thought were so important I now couldn’t care less about. I just want to hold my son. My arms ache for him. My ears long to hear him. My heart seems to break a little more each day I go without him. People have told me that the pain never goes away, but that it will lessen. I pray they are right.

Day three I woke up around 5:00am and wondered if I should try to go back to sleep. I decided to go see Uriah instead. The NICU was quiet. I noticed a new baby had been brought in and was just across from Uriah. This new little guy was squirming and crying as the nurse cared for him. I looked at Uriah and wished he could squirm and cry. I could hear the respirator breathing for him. I noticed some changes in him. His “hiccups” were not as frequent or as strong. His little eyes were swollen. His left hand was clenched tight. His little arms and legs kept jerking and shaking as if he was cold. I did not like these changes because he seemed to be slipping further away from me. His nurse seemed to sense the pain I felt and tried to ease the pain. She talked of only positive things about Uriah. We discussed a book she was reading. We complained about the weather. We talked about everything but the inevitable.

Jesse and his mom arrived around 10:00am. The doctor had just started talking to me about what our options were. There weren’t many. It was more of a question of when. When were we going to choose to say good-bye to our son? I didn’t want to say good-bye. I begged God to let me keep him. The staff kept telling us about a private room they had just for saying good-bye. I didn’t want to go to that stupid room. I wanted to go to the “hello room.”

My parents arrived a little later and brought Phebe, our oldest daughter. She’s sixteen and we felt she needed to be a part of everything. At the last minute we decided that Abner, our 10-year-old son, should be there as well. My friend Loni was gracious enough to go pick him up for us. I also contacted my niece Lois who is a professional photographer to ask her to take some pictures of Uriah’s last hours. The pastor that counseled us before we were married and also performed our wedding ceremony came. We love Pastor Mead so much. In fact, Uriah’s middle name was partly for him. He told us that day that we needed to realize that we had done nothing wrong to cause this and that it was not our fault. He made reference to John 9 when the disciples asked Jesus who had sinned to make this man blind and Jesus answered, no one. I sure needed to hear that. He also told us that God loved us, and that God loved Uriah even more than we did. His words of love and compassion comforted us deeply. He hugged on us, cried with us, and prayed with us.

I had gotten pregnant with Uriah before we were married and I was sure I would somehow have to pay for that sin. Pastor Mead helped me realize months before that Uriah was not a mistake and that if I confessed my sin it was forgiven and paid for. It wasn’t until that day in his office, months earlier, that I allowed myself to love Uriah. It was also during this time that Jesse and I decided that we needed to rededicate our lives to the Lord and get back in church. We didn’t want to raise this baby outside of church. It was because of Uriah that we ended up back in church. This seems so ironic to me now.

Around 3pm Jesse’s mom, Jesse, Phebe, Abner and I went to the private room. The team of nurses brought him in. The respirator was still breathing for him. We sat on the couch not quite sure what to do. His nurse finally said we could hold him. I had Phebe sit in the chair and I placed Uriah in her arms. It was so bittersweet. I loved seeing her hold and love on her baby brother, but I hated knowing that it would be for such a short time.

Then it was Abner’s turn and I recalled him asking me about a week earlier if he could be the second or third person to hold Uriah after he was born. I had told him I would do my best. I never dreamt it would be a one-time event.

Grandma Olson held him next. Jesse and I just held each other and hurt for her. She was so strong. She smiled and had such sweet things to say about her grandson, but we knew the pain she must be feeling inside.

Finally Jesse was able to hold his son. I recall the look of anticipation on his face. I also remember the look of pain. He had his little boy and had to say good-bye to him way too soon.

Then Jesse handed our son to me. I will never forget how Uriah felt in my arms. He was heavier than I imagined. He fit perfectly in the crook of my arm. I kissed his soft little head and tried to soak in his smell, his softness, and his newness. I never wanted to let him go. He was perfect. He was beautiful. He would soon be gone.

Uriah, day two

2010-01-19T16:48:00.005-05:00

Grief is quite mysterious. Why does it hit at the strangest times? I went to the doctor’s office today and it hit me. I had imagined bringing Uriah in and showing him off to the staff. All I had to show off today was my fat rolls. Tears…

Monday morning came with not much change. I waited for Jesse to get to the hospital before going to see Uriah. To be honest I can’t remember much from this day. Uriah had never quit having the “hiccups.” I asked the nurse that morning what they were. She said she had just asked the doctor that same question. He didn’t believe they were hiccups at all. Instead he thought them to be a spinal reflex of some sort. He thought that sometime the night before Uriah was born either the umbilical cord became twisted or the placenta started to pull away from the uterus causing Uriah to not get enough oxygen. Uriah then tried to breath and this is what caused the reflex.

The doctor that delivered Uriah came to see us that morning. He sat on the other side of Uriah’s bed and just stared at him and shook his head. He said, “Hannah, I’ve been doing this for over 30 years and have never seen anything like this.” I immediately wondered if this was supposed to make me feel better or worse. I was so angry. I wondered then why it had to be Jesse and me that had to go through this? I knew we would be hearing people say that God wouldn't give us more than we could handle. I hate when people take that verse (I Corinthians 10:13) out of context. The verse is saying that we will not be tempted above what we are able to handle, and that God will make a way for us to escape the temptation. This was not a temptation, and yes many people said that to us. After the anger passed I started to ask God, and myself, “Why us?” Was it because we were strong enough to handle it? I don’t think so. Was it because we deserved it? I don’t believe that either. Was it because the devil wanted to prove to God that we weren’t serious about serving and loving Him? I’m leaning toward believing this. I then asked myself, “Why not us?” Why did I think myself so special that something like this couldn’t happen to us? Since starting this blog I have been amazed to find how many people have had to deal with infant death. What made us any different or better than them?

We waited half the day Monday to find out if they were going to do a second EEG on Uriah, and then the rest of the day to find out the results. We didn’t hear anything until early evening. The results were that nothing had changed. In my heart I had known that this is what they were going to tell us, but I sure had hoped for quite the opposite. I tried so hard not to cry. Jesse and I were standing there staring at our son and I just buried my head in his shoulder and cried. I realized then and there that I would never hear Uriah cry. I would never see him try to toddle through the house. I would never hear his giggle. I would never feel the warmth of his body next to mine. I wouldn’t be able to rock him to sleep or sleep with him on my chest. I wouldn’t get to stand up for him to his siblings for getting into their things. I would never see him on the basketball court, on stage, on the baseball field, or running over the hill to see his grandparents.

Jesse and his mom went back home that night with heavy hearts. I went to bed wondering if I really wanted to live. I talked with three different friends that night. They were all so loving and caring. They helped to lessen the pain as I fell asleep. Jesse and I had to decide within the next few hours what we were going to do. How does a parent decide to take their son off of a respirator? This is not a decision any parent should have to make.