my personal psalm

today marks 1 year since we buried my little man. 1 year since ive seen his face (not in dreams). 1 year since ive kissed his forehead. i was talking with my mom today about how it all seems like it happened yesterday. but also years ago... every scene from that day is forever etched into my memory. every horrible picture (that i will not share with you unless you ask. no one needs those thoughts in their head unless they are prepared...). but also, every comforting image is there... almost every face that i saw at the hospital - people from highland (our church family), people from hillcrest (my church family growing up). i have no idea how any of those people knew we were there. i have no idea who called them. i just know they were there. they prayed for us and over us. they cleaned our homes. they brought food. they cried with us and for us. they sat. they waited. and that was just the first day. i would never have thought, at this exact time 365 days ago, that i would ever be able to smile again...that there would ever be any joy again...

my sweet harlow loves to watch a documentary on netflix called 'jig.' it tells the stories of young kids competing at the world's competition in irish step dancing. every time h asks to watch the 'dancing movie,' she runs to her room, puts on a 'long, pretty dress' and some loud shoes, and dances around the kitchen on the tile floors. she has this joy about her that is completely indescribable. she has no inhibitions. all she knows is a joy and a peace that passes understanding. how much i learn from this little girl every day...

a year ago, and so many times since then, my mom has said to me, 'there will be dancing again.' harlow knows. she knows the joy so great that all you can do is dance. i know that joy, too, but have felt so much sorrow that i forget what it feels like. my prayer is, that with each day that passes, the joy comes back exponentially. that god gives me the strength to dance, even when i am being swallowed by the grief. that in time, i will be as joyful as this little girl. (and yes, the picture is blurry because it is an action shot, but you get the idea.)

Has it really been a year...:

It has been a while since I've written anything. I was pregnant with my first child when I started this (I am now pregnant with baby #3), and obviously didn't keep it up. I think I have more to say now... maybe. 

I suppose I'll start right where we are. That's as good a place as any, right...? 

On May 3, 2012, my son was born. He was perfect and healthy, and had rolls of fat and little chicken legs that he must have gotten from his father (I wish i could claim that one!). He was a good eater, and was sleeping 6 hour long stretches from about 4 weeks. He was the perfect addition to our household. On July 10, 2012, I put him down for a nap, and when i thought he'd been asleep long enough and needed to eat, I went to wake him up. I found him in his crib, as usual. Only, he wasn't there. In his place was the shadow of my sweet boy. SIDS had robbed me of my boy. I tried everything I could to bring him back to me. The Dr's tried everything they could to bring him back to me. He was too beautiful and perfect to live in this world.  Why would God give me something...someone...so perfect, and then take him away? I still do not understand. I will never understand. Nothing more terrible could happen to anyone. One saying is 'someone who loses a spouse is called a widow(er). someone who loses a parent is an orphan. there is no word for someone who loses a child. that's how terrible it is.' I look at pictures even today, and cry...all the 'what-if's' running through my head. What if he had napped in my room? What if I had found him sooner? What if i had done cpr better? I deal with a lot of moms, and from what I gather, I think we are all prone to guilt at some level. We all want to be better. We all want to do the best for our kids and always think that someone else is doing it better. What if E had a different mommy? Would he still be here? Would he still be cuddling and making people laugh? 
E couldn't have had a different mommy. H couldn't have a different mommy. This new baby couldn't have a different mommy. I was chosen. The Lord knew how strong I was, and could become. What I am now is nothing like what I was then. I have a compassion that was never there before. I can listen to other's sorrows and really care about what they are saying. Most of the time, people talk to me about how my story made them love their babies more. Sometimes, I hear about how seeing our strength (that only comes from God), has brought them closer or even back to Jesus. Ezra means 'helper' in Hebrew. I didn't know when I named him what a helper he would turn out to be. Even in death...especially in death...he is helping those around him. Why was I chosen? Maybe God knew how many people needed help. Maybe He knew my sweet little guy could do it. Maybe he trusted me to send His good news even through my own sorrow. I hate that it happened. I say 'hate' because I can't think of a word that is strong enough to adequately convey how I truly feel.  ...but if even one person has drawn closer to God because of it, then I can be happy. 

Back to the now...
This past Sunday at church, hubs was singing on the praise team. It was a year (minus 3 days) from the day my E passed away, and I was a definite emotional wreck. I didn't think I was going to be, but something about sitting in that auditorium, where we had E's funeral, and singing those specific songs, took me to the 'ugly cry' place. One of the first songs we sang says 'had it not been the Lord who was on our side...the water's would have engulfed us. we would have surely died... had it not been the Lord who was on our side...' Over the past year, this song has gotten new meaning. It is true. I would have surely died. There is not doubt in my mind. The heartache I have had this year was too much for one person to bare. It should have killed me. I should be with my baby. ...BUT... The Lord is, and was, on my side. He never left me. Things are hard. My marriage is not what it needs to be. We are two different people than we were a year ago. We are working hard to love each other and get to know the new person we are married to. If you are reading this, and you pray, please pray that we can learn to love each other. 

So, here's to trying this whole blog thing again. Here goes nothing...

my first attempt

so, i just found out that i am pregnant. its a little scary, a little exciting, and a lot weird. i am starting to feel the...hardness... behind my bellybutton that wasnt there before. actually, my sister was the first to feel it and had to tell everyone (very loudly) in the middle of tuesday morning. (and my husband swears he can hear a heartbeat if he presses his ear to my stomach - weirdo) she is the one who keeps telling me that i should start a blog. an avid blogger herself, i figured i would take her advice and give it a try. well, here it goes. im blogging. ive never been big into journaling, but maybe i can do this.
so here i am, growing a little grape inside me (affectionately nicknamed the blueberry) and im blogging. i guess there really are first times for everything. i suppose i will post again soon.