It is not often, actually never, that I post one of my blogs on Facebook. For whatever reason, though, I am about to do just that. It may be that I'm getting bolder about my musings, or possibly that I'm finally listening to the Lord pressing me to speak out, or just maybe I survived a very scary time last night and I need to express the ways that the Lord spoke to me through that. I'm warning you, this may be very long!
We are just returning from a much needed 10 day vacation in Florida. The weather was beautiful, the company wonderful, and the relaxation top notch. We were on a very tight budget, but had an amazing time doing nothing... :-) We even came home with over $200... we discussed on the way home just what we would do with that money. Options ranging from putting it into our baby fund, finishing our garage project, using it for our anniversary coming up, and other ideas of things we wanted or needed. But alas, as always God had different plans for our money. Because as we began washing our vacation clothes, we realized that our washing machine had run it's course. I didn't feel so bad about it because our washer and dryer were FREE when we got married and probably had 15 years of use on them. We are very blessed that they have served us well the last 3 years! Our search started at such stores as Best Buy, ABC Warehouse, and the like, but ended on Craigslist, where we found a washer and dryer only 4 years old and like new for $325... only a little over the amount we brought home from our Vacation. Yes, indeed, that left over money being available was no coincidence. It was only the beginning of the way God orchestrated this day.
Armed with $325, Tyler, and his truck, we headed to GR last night to get our "new-to-us" washer and dryer. The road down was safe and it only rained a bit as we loaded them up, strapped them down, and headed home. At the same time that our washer has gone caput, our dryer is perfectly fine... and alas, God had planned that out perfectly as well, because Ty and Holly are in need of one. Again, no coincidence!
And, sorry friends, but the story doesn't end there. In preparation for Ty taking us down to get the washer and dryer, he had cleaned out the backseat of his truck including Jessi's carseat, which he placed right inside the door in their breezeway. As we moved our old washer and dryer out, hauled them up the stairs, and got the new dryer down into the basement, we began to formulate a plan for getting our old dryer to Ty and Holly's... the cords were different and we had to make a change to accommodate our new unit. Thinking that we might be able to just swap Ty and Holly's for ours, I ran upstairs to get my phone and give Holly a call to see what her cord at home was like. We are very close to the Fire Barn and I could hear sirens pulling out and headed down 57 as I headed up the stairs. Funny, maybe, but each time I hear the sirens, my heart skips a beat and I say a prayer for whoever might be on the receiving end of that help. Little did I know that I was praying for our little Jessi girl!
When I reached Holly by phone, she was frantic... which is not normal for her, so I asked her if she was ok. "No" she screamed, "Tell Tyler to come home NOW!" Without thinking I hollared to Ty to go home now, threw him my keys, and relayed what Holly had told me "Jessi fell, hit her head, and she's convulsing and having a seizure! The ambulance is here!" As calm as I remained on the outside, my heart was beating madly and I wasn't sure what exactly to do. Heath cried, then prayed, then we snapped into action, finishing the unloading of the washer and then heading out, hoping to be able to follow them down to the hospital. Noone was there so we drove back to get our van... driving by the fire barn, I noticed one of the response units pulling back in, "Pull in there" I said. We ran up to the barn, asked if they came from Shaner, and where they were taking Jessi. "Helen Devos, she's ok, she'll be alright!" But me, being the doubting person that I am didn't really listen to the last part... after all, isn't that what they say just before people die? Morbid, I know, but that is what goes through my mind everytime I hear that phrase from a doctor or nurse. Sorry to those of you who are doctors or nurses!
About 40 minutes later, we were at the hospital, just in time to see Jess. She was kind of out of it, mostly crying, and not herself. Scary, to say the least, but she got better as the night continued. Doctors said she had a febral (sp?) seizure that occurs when there is a rapid temp spike in little ones. Scary as that was, it's actually a protection from the seriousness of the spike in temperature. Praise the Lord for his intricate design in creating a body that protects itself against harm. Now almost 20 hours later, she is doing well and although continues to experience a fever, she is no longer having tremors or experiencing seizures. I pray that she continues to do well.
At any rate, this day that started out as any other day did not end that way. Still, I can see God's hand in every moment of it. It was no coincidence that our washer died on us and that we had most of the $ for it from our vacation. By no coincidence did we need Tyler's help moving it, thus allowing for the carseat to be left right by the door where the paramedics needed it. It wasn't a coincidence that the first response unit was pulling into the fire barn just when we needed them to find out where Jessi was. And by no coincidence, did the Lord provide an excellent Children's Hospital close to home. No, these aren't coincidences... these are God, His orchestrating hand in every area of our lives!
As I was living through those moments last night, I began to wonder about myself... as scary as it was, I never cried. What was I, heartless? I mean, the little girl that I love as my own, was lying in a hospital bed, being poked and prodded and I was cool and calm and collected. The tears just didn't come... not as I talked with Holly on the phone and relayed the message to Tyler, not when Heath lost it and cried out to God on our front porch, and not when we walked into the hospital room and saw her helpless little body lying on the bed. I don't know if it's my coping mechanism that causes me to hold back... as if when everyone else is upset, I can't be. Or if it's just that I was in denial... I don't know.
The tears did come... this morning as I picked up sweet Jessi's toys and books that were strewn all over the living room from yesterday. They came as I knelt on the floor and picked up the half eaten crackers and animal cookie crumbs that she left when she ran into her mommy's arms yesterday afternoon. They overflowed as I fed little Aurelia this morning in the quiet of the living room... quiet except for my sobs of relief. I think it was the action of picking up after little Jessi and realizing that we may have lost her... except by God's grace, it could have been the last time I picked those up... the pictures that I took of her and Uncle Heath, could have been the last and I am overwhelmed and thankful to God that we will still be able to enjoy her precious smiles, giggles, and witty ways! What a gift! What a miracle! And one, I'm afraid, that we take for granted too often. Never again!
Father God, awesome Healer, Prince of Peace... thank you for being near to us in our moments of fear. We praise you today for your ever present, protective hand on us and those we love. Thank you for continuing to heal little Jessi's body and for allowing us more time with her! May we never take her or any others that we love for granted. Help us to be evermindful of your hand in our every action and help us to never forget that coincidences to others are simply your hand in our lives.
5.26.2011
5.09.2011
I'm A Survivor!
No, I am not joining the ranks of those "reality" stars on Survivor, and I'm not celebrating my journey through cancer, but I am celebrating my survival of yet another Mother's Day as a Childless couple.
I need to preface this post by saying that the last post I made was published very early in the morning on a day that we as childless couples struggle with every year. Yes, I realize that it's not about me. Yes, I realize that we have two mother's and two grandmother's to celebrate, and we did. And Yes, I realize that someday it will be my turn. Having said that, I want to make sure you realize that I in no way was down playing the day that was set aside to honor our mother's and grandmother's. And I in no way intended to deflate your balloon's of joy in your family. Instead I have found over the past couple years that this blog is an outlet for me. A way for me to vent my frustrations and my struggles. A place of healing for our aching hearts and a place to feel safe and not shot down for the spectrum of emotions that an infertile woman/couple faces. I do apologize if I put a dooms day feel on your Mother's Day. It was not my intent or desire in the least.
I; however, am a survivor of the day. No, I'm not a Mother. No, I didn't make it through the sermon without a couple of tears. No, I didn't dodge my sweet niece with a carnation for me. But, I did survive. I can think of only one thing that allowed me joy on this day. Well, maybe two... first and foremost, God's strength... the ability to come through the day with a smile on my face. The strength to celebrate my mother's and our sweet friend Kara, who for the first time in their 8 year journey through infertility can REJOICE because very soon, she will be a mother. Praise God, for his Faithfulness. I can honestly say I've never felt His Strength like I did yesterday. I am overwhelmed even today as I write this, because I can't believe that He loved me enough to give me the strength to press through something so difficult. And the second reason is my amazing godly husband. I don't deserve his love or his thoughtfulness, but I am so thankful for the way that God brought Heath into my life. I know that although my pain is very obvious, his pain stems from seeing me in pain. He did all he could do to make my day joyful even in little ways he probably doesn't even know. Thank you, Sweetheart!
I need to preface this post by saying that the last post I made was published very early in the morning on a day that we as childless couples struggle with every year. Yes, I realize that it's not about me. Yes, I realize that we have two mother's and two grandmother's to celebrate, and we did. And Yes, I realize that someday it will be my turn. Having said that, I want to make sure you realize that I in no way was down playing the day that was set aside to honor our mother's and grandmother's. And I in no way intended to deflate your balloon's of joy in your family. Instead I have found over the past couple years that this blog is an outlet for me. A way for me to vent my frustrations and my struggles. A place of healing for our aching hearts and a place to feel safe and not shot down for the spectrum of emotions that an infertile woman/couple faces. I do apologize if I put a dooms day feel on your Mother's Day. It was not my intent or desire in the least.
I; however, am a survivor of the day. No, I'm not a Mother. No, I didn't make it through the sermon without a couple of tears. No, I didn't dodge my sweet niece with a carnation for me. But, I did survive. I can think of only one thing that allowed me joy on this day. Well, maybe two... first and foremost, God's strength... the ability to come through the day with a smile on my face. The strength to celebrate my mother's and our sweet friend Kara, who for the first time in their 8 year journey through infertility can REJOICE because very soon, she will be a mother. Praise God, for his Faithfulness. I can honestly say I've never felt His Strength like I did yesterday. I am overwhelmed even today as I write this, because I can't believe that He loved me enough to give me the strength to press through something so difficult. And the second reason is my amazing godly husband. I don't deserve his love or his thoughtfulness, but I am so thankful for the way that God brought Heath into my life. I know that although my pain is very obvious, his pain stems from seeing me in pain. He did all he could do to make my day joyful even in little ways he probably doesn't even know. Thank you, Sweetheart!
5.08.2011
Happy Mother's Day...
It goes without saying that for women struggling through infertility and struggling seems like an understatment, Mother's Day holds a certain amount of sadness. There are a couple of things that I can think of that make it difficult. Today I am reminded of the fact that I am not a Mother and see no light at the end of that tunnel of non-motherhood, and then there's that birthday lurking just around the corner that will again remind me that I am yet another year older and STILL not a mother. It doesn't help that Mother's Day is on a Sunday. Today I will walk in, likely hear a sermon about how to be a better mother when all I want is to be a mother, period , and then at the end of the sermon, all the mothers will receive a flower... Not that I wish to discount all the mothers out there or want to take away from their happiness, but I HATE Mother's Day. And to be quite honest, I have been thinking all week about why it would be better for me to stay home from church. But alas, I can't do that, because Sunday is not about me, it's about HIM... so I will go, I will worship, I will likely cry through the sermon, and I will pray that my sweet niece does not bring me a flower at the end of the day (not that I wouldn't appreciate, it but again, those constant reminders) cause I'm tired of crying in front of everyone.
I remember feeling this exact same way about Valentine's Day when I was single. It made me sick... all the hype and all the sweet thoughtful gifts and flowers and chocolates and jewelry...all of it going to someone else, passing me by, because I was the dreaded SINGLE person! I HATED Valentine's day, with a passion. It was just that day to remind me, as if I could forget, that I was not in a relationship, I was single.
I can relate to that feeling with Mother's Day and infertility. That constant reminder, as if I could forget, that I am not a Mother. And it makes me question myself... are we ever really content? I mean really? Another one of my least favorite words... And wouldn't you know our Pastor spoke about contentment last week. When I found out that was the title of the message, I leaned over and told Heath I needed to leave. I did not want to sit through that message. Mostly because of my desire for a child.
I sat there listening and learning and the whole time scared out of my mind. You see, I thought my contentment would be dependent on having to let my desire for a child go. I thought that our prayers every single day for a child, were going to become something of our past and not something we could continue with. After all, contentment is being in want of nothing, right? And that's what led up to last Sunday night gathered around our living room with our small group family and my break down. I scurried around getting things ready most of the afternoon, as people began arriving, I busied myself with plates and napkins and cups, I pasted on a smile, but inside I felt like I was being ripped apart. Like all my desires, my aching arms, were going to be stripped away from me and I had no choice, because God calls for contentment. I fidgeted through most of the lesson and just before prayer time started, I had built enough courage to ask the questions that burned inside of me. My closest friends, my small group, they got the brunt of the awkwardness.
So, is it discontent to ask for a child every day? To pour out our hearts and desires to God every day? To continually be pressing forward towards that goal? I thought so, but they set me straight. It isn't discontent to seek after a child. It isn't discontent to ask God every day for a child and to pour out our hearts and desires. It would be discontent (I don't even know if that's the right word) if our desire for a child was pulling us away from God. If it was our consuming fire, our constant thought, our unending motive. It's not. As much as it seems like it to many, it's not. We are still serving, our love for Him and faith in Him grows every day, our desire to see souls reached through Quizzing and the Youth Group is stronger than ever, our Trust that He knows what is best expands beyond what we ever thought was possible, and our love for one another is more than we ever could have imagined.
As painful as Mother's Day, is though, we have to go through it... there's no way around it, no way under it or over it, you have to go through it. Praise God, Praise God, Praise God for His unending strength! Because it's with that strength that I can say those three little words... Happy Mother's Day!
I remember feeling this exact same way about Valentine's Day when I was single. It made me sick... all the hype and all the sweet thoughtful gifts and flowers and chocolates and jewelry...all of it going to someone else, passing me by, because I was the dreaded SINGLE person! I HATED Valentine's day, with a passion. It was just that day to remind me, as if I could forget, that I was not in a relationship, I was single.
I can relate to that feeling with Mother's Day and infertility. That constant reminder, as if I could forget, that I am not a Mother. And it makes me question myself... are we ever really content? I mean really? Another one of my least favorite words... And wouldn't you know our Pastor spoke about contentment last week. When I found out that was the title of the message, I leaned over and told Heath I needed to leave. I did not want to sit through that message. Mostly because of my desire for a child.
I sat there listening and learning and the whole time scared out of my mind. You see, I thought my contentment would be dependent on having to let my desire for a child go. I thought that our prayers every single day for a child, were going to become something of our past and not something we could continue with. After all, contentment is being in want of nothing, right? And that's what led up to last Sunday night gathered around our living room with our small group family and my break down. I scurried around getting things ready most of the afternoon, as people began arriving, I busied myself with plates and napkins and cups, I pasted on a smile, but inside I felt like I was being ripped apart. Like all my desires, my aching arms, were going to be stripped away from me and I had no choice, because God calls for contentment. I fidgeted through most of the lesson and just before prayer time started, I had built enough courage to ask the questions that burned inside of me. My closest friends, my small group, they got the brunt of the awkwardness.
So, is it discontent to ask for a child every day? To pour out our hearts and desires to God every day? To continually be pressing forward towards that goal? I thought so, but they set me straight. It isn't discontent to seek after a child. It isn't discontent to ask God every day for a child and to pour out our hearts and desires. It would be discontent (I don't even know if that's the right word) if our desire for a child was pulling us away from God. If it was our consuming fire, our constant thought, our unending motive. It's not. As much as it seems like it to many, it's not. We are still serving, our love for Him and faith in Him grows every day, our desire to see souls reached through Quizzing and the Youth Group is stronger than ever, our Trust that He knows what is best expands beyond what we ever thought was possible, and our love for one another is more than we ever could have imagined.
As painful as Mother's Day, is though, we have to go through it... there's no way around it, no way under it or over it, you have to go through it. Praise God, Praise God, Praise God for His unending strength! Because it's with that strength that I can say those three little words... Happy Mother's Day!
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