To remember or not

I've avoided it all day.

A good thing or not, I don't know.

Do I want to throw up right now? Yes.

Am I strong enough to even type the words? I don't know.

I'm going to give it a try.

Today would have been the day. You know. THE DAY. The day we should have spent the last 8 months preparing for. THAT DAY.

The day we welcomed another baby into our family. (There. That wasn't so bad, but I still want to throw up and I'm sniffling back tears.)

I miss that baby every single day. I might not think about it every day, but I think about it often.

So. I'm glad today is almost over and tomorrow won't be THE DAY. Tomorrow will just be tomorrow. Not something mammoth in my mind that must be conquered. I spent the past several days dreading this day. But I made it. I prayed and prayed that God would give me the strength to withstand it.

And He did. I did.

My prayer now is very simple:

Dear Lord,
Please, please, please let my body be strong enough to carry this new miracle to term. Please form this baby in Your image and let it be wonderfully and fearfully made for nine months in my womb. Please let me come to peace with this pregnancy so that I might find only joy in it and not this strange combination of fear, joy, sorrow, and excitement.
In His name,
Natalie

MBS: She's back

Not sure why this is MBS. Perhaps it is not. But it was the first day M felt better after our hospital stay. She WANTED something. Something simple: to blow bubbles. So we did. And we giggled. And we spilled the bubble juice. We played in it and giggled some more. Bubble juice was all over her: in her hair, on her shoes, on her shirt. She was slippery and needed a bath ASAP.

She was back with me. I loved every minute of it.

For other MBS, stop by Tracy's.

Fight or Flight?

There are two basic human reactions to confrontation. Fight or flight.

Fight: backed into the corner and come out scratching, stand your ground without backing down, scream, my reaction to confrontation with H.

Flight: avoid the confrontation at all costs, pretend it didn't happen, don't let it bother you, suppress, my reaction to confrontation with just about everyone else in my life. This is my preferred way to handle conflict. The best example I have to share for this is the miscarriage. My dear friend, Rachel, lost a baby just one week before I did. How did she handle it? She wrote about it on her blog, she cried with her husband and church family, she memorialized that sweet angel. Now that we are days away from our due dates, she's again talking about it, feeling it, REMEMBERING IT. What am I doing? Purposefully avoiding the calendar. Not thinking about it. Ignoring the fact that we would be welcoming our new baby into our lives in just a few days. Why? It's easier for me. Healthy? NO WAY!

Poor H.

This weekend I attended a conference by a well-known speaker, Tara Barthel. She was magnificent! I learned so much about the law and the grace of God. She taught about peacefully and Biblically resolving conflict, how to confess a sin to your brother or sister, what it means to sin against another person.

Without meaning to, she spoke directly to me over and over again. She and I were the only people in the room. She whispered truths into my heart. She forced me to look at my own idols and how they are preventing me from developing deep and meaningful relationship with God, my family, and my friends.

I'm here to confess my biggest idol. I had to think and pray over this to truly identify my idol. Who do I love more than Christ? Who do I turn to before I go to the Cross? MYSELF! Everything I do is motivated to gain glory for myself. Take a great picture? Wow, I'm so good. Send someone a handmade card? Pat on the back. All the idols I could think of pointed the finger directly back at me. Everything I do, often without the conscious thought, is so that I gain glory. And I'm not sure how to change this. I'm praying about it. I'm becoming more and more aware of it. I don't want to worship myself.

What are your earthly idols?

Phrase Friday

I've got a million posts I could write about M, but the one from my student takes the cake this week.

I teach mostly African-American children. In fact, this year my class is entirely AA, except for one little Caucasion kid. (None of that matters except it makes this story particularly funny.)

One of my little girls is as round as she is tall. She cheers on a competition team and does a fair amount of traveling to attend different meets. She left early Thursday to attend a meet several hours away at a fairly well known beach town. Another student asked this little girl why she was going to the beach.

Girl A: Why are you going to the beach?
Round cheerleader: BIG sigh, "I guess I'll catch some waves."

I have NEVER in my life heard something quite as humorous as that. Considering it sounded SO surfer-girlish and came from this little round brown-skinned girl. And her tone was SO dead-pan. As in, "Oh, poor me...I guess I'll just have to catch some waves."


I've sat down every night this week to post. We're doing fine. Recovering from our trip to the hospital. H and I were so very, very thankful that my parents could come stay with us for a few days so M didn't have to go back to school until Wednesday. She was thrilled to see her friends again when she did get back to school.

This weekend is a major conference for the women of my church. We have a magnificent speaker. Tonight was just amazing. I can't wait to hear more tomorrow.

That's about all here. I'm tired and nauseous and my, ah, well, somethings up top are very sore. All in all, I'm still pregnant, I think.

Anxiety

I've had some good prayer time lately. I know that I'm being drawn closer and closer to the Lord.

Despite this time of extreme closeness, I'm still filled with so much anxiety. How can those two things exist in me at the same time? I take such comfort in a soverign God. My God who claims that all things work for His glory for those who TRUST IN THE LORD.

I'm anxious about returning to work tomorrow. I'm not quite ready to leave M. I know she's on the mend, but she's not completely herself yet. I have the most wonderful parents who waited until I said "COME NOW!" before coming to us. They knew I needed quiet time with M. They are here now and they will take care of her for a few days so she can build her strength and get some good rest before she goes back to her "school." M will eat ANYTHING for her OB, so I'm glad he's here and can get her back on a good diet.

I'm anxious about the upcoming test for M and what the test actually means. Her little body is so battered right now: bruises on her hands and elbows from being poked and pricked. She was cathed twice in 24 hours. She's terrified of the blood pressure cuff because she doesn't understand.

I'm also anxious about the results of the test. Either way, the results create more questions. If the test indicates there is reflux in her UT, what does that mean and how do we treat it? If there is no reflux in her UT, does that mean we just didn't clear up the first UTI? How can I prevent another one?

On top of all of this, I'm extremely anxious about the tiny miracle growing in my womb. Every day that it remains with me is a miracle. My fervent, constant, begging prayer is that this tiny baby stays inside of me until November and makes a wailing entrance into this world on time. I was so nauseous today, but I'll take nausea if it means I'm still growing a baby. I'll take exhaustion if our family is blessed with another baby.

I wish I could tell you that by burdening you with my anxiety, it was lessened. It was not. My stomach is still in knots about tomorrow. I must learn to trust in the Lord with all my heart and all my soul. This is an hour of learning for me--to turn to the One who controls. Whose words were whispered before the beginning of time.

No need to respond.

Going to the hospital

As my dear friend, Andi, pointed out: she knew something was wrong when I wasn't blogging.

Oh, friends, something was wrong, alright.

Almost four weeks ago, M spiked a high fever. We treated the culprit.

Three weeks ago, M spiked a high fever. Culprit: UTI. Lots of finger pricking, catherizations, several doctor's appointments. We thought we cleared it up.

Until this:

turned into a four day, three night trip to the hospital. Last Monday (3/31), M spiked yet another fever. H took her to work with him Tuesday. She exhibited some very strange symptoms, so, thankfully, H took her immediately to our pediatrician. He tested her for strep, flu, UTI, drew blood, got a shot. I took her back to the doctor Wednesday, her WBC count went up, not down, after the shot of antibiotics. We were having trouble controlling her fever and she wasn't making any wet diapers.

This is what the rest of Wednesday looked like:

Yep, straight from the pediatrician's office to the hospital.

Oh, wait...I forgot to mention the cathing at the hospital and the putting in of the IV. She looks rather peaceful now. There was at least one hour of NO peace for anyone around us. Immediately after being cathed again and having an IV put in, M was rolled through the hospital the radiology dept. to have a renal ultrasound. Kidneys look good. "Debris" in the bladder. It took almost 48 hours to find out what that meant.

This is what Thursday looked like:

Friday was definitely our worst day. I was exhausted. M was tired of being poked. My heart was breaking for her. I think we both cried all Friday afternoon. Particularly when our hospital doctor and our nurse said the words "in-patient test on Monday." I'm not medical professional, but if someone says "in-patient" that meant we would STILL BE THERE MONDAY. Complete meltdown in hallway. God is SO good. Someone didn't understand. M will not be having another test for a few weeks.

This is a pitiful picture from late Friday afternoon. New IV port. Much screaming and crying (M and mommy) to get this one in. Her other port was hurting because it had been in for so long.

We had the best medical care we could ask for. Our night nurses weren't the most considerate, but they did a great job. Our day nurses deserve medals. They were amazing.

I was completely humbled while we were in the hospital. There was a little girl there who was 21 months old. She was a premie (born at 25 weeks!). She's in foster care, but has been removed from her foster home because they weren't providing appropriate medical care for her. She got a serious infection while living at that home and has been in the hospital over a month now. She has sitters that come stay with her. M and I met her in the children's play room where her sitter was showing her the big fish tank. She was being pulled around in a radio wagon. M was so jealous. "Mommy, I wide with her!" M told me. I told M that she couldn't ride with that little girl. "But she my fwiend," M replied. I've been praying for that little girl, who is such a fighter--she's had such terrible circumstances in her short little 21 months. I've been praying for her sweet day sitter who comes every day to stay with her and brings her clothes to wear and bows for her hair. That woman is an angel.

Near the end

After our most difficult Friday afternoon, M decided she wanted silly faces all over her body. At that point, I would have bought her a ride to the moon if that would dry her tears and make her smile.

So, we drew silly faces her tummy,

on each hand,

and on each foot.

This morning, she found our tiny bathroom and unrolled herself quite a bit of toilet paper. She spent about 20 minutes washing her hands while H and I packed up her balloons, stuffed animals, crayons, puzzles: all love offerings from our dear, sweet friends and family.

We are so blessed with such an awesome church family, co-workers, and H's brother and sister-in-law. M had many visitors to help keep us company. Our every need was provided.

Thanks Joe for bringing lunch to me! Thanks Tracey for buying! I owe you both!

Despite such a difficult time, M and I had some very sweet time together. I was able to spend a lot of time in prayer. I was able to knit and read while M took her afternoon naps. I realized that M will be fine sharing her room in November when her little brother or sister arrives (Yes, we found out last week that we are pregnant!). She slept away even when people came into the room during her naps. She was such a trooper. H and I have been blessed with such a wonderful little girl.

I hope transitioning back to real life is easy for all of us. I let M watch a lot of TV and keep her snugglies all the time at the hospital. Those might be hard habits to break.

But we're home. And home has never felt so good!

edited to add: Kyla asked if M is okay now. Yes, we think so. We stayed an extra 24 hours in the hospital so she could have extra doses of the antibiotic. We do a dye test in a few weeks on her urinary tract to make sure all valves are working and that the urine is only going in the correct direction (no reflux). She will take antibiotics at home for 10 days--a different antibiotic than the one she had two weeks ago.

I'll continue to edit to answer questions!