Chocolate

As I write this, I'm sitting eating chocolate, and feeling very female, and a little bit pregnant. :)

I do have peace about little Evelyn. God is in control.
...but some days are still hard. Yesterday I felt a little... melancholy. After I put the kids to bed, I let my heart and mind face what I had been avoiding all day: fear and grief. I let my mind think about the worst possibilities-- the thought of birthing a baby that held no life, the unknown length of time that I get to carry her (could be another day, or could be 4 more months), and what scares me the most is if she beats the medical odds and lives past birth, but only for a few months and with great deformity. Part of me would be grateful for each moment I would get to see her, be with her, care for her- and part of me thinks that maybe my heart couldn't handle that much grief- this time is hard, and I imagine that would be even more so: the attachment and letting go.

By the time my husband got home from Youth Group last night I could barely hold myself together. We cried together, and held eachother, took a deep breath, and chose again to trust God.

This morning we had another appointment, and Evelyn's heart is still beating! I'm not sure what to think or feel! I'm grateful for another day, and for the chance to peek at her. I'm still a little scared of whatever comes, but I know God is with me. And I'm not scared that God would make a mistake, I'm afraid of how much it will hurt my heart.

In moments of internal panic, I hear that little voice reminding me that if I open my hurting heart to God, He will shape me and mold me the RIGHT way, and not let me break.

There are so many things to be thankful for, still: the God that walks with me, the knowledge that WE HAVE A DAUGHTER!, the two wild, sweet little boys I spend my days with (sweet story about them to come), the man that is helping me raise them and has pledged to live the rest of life by my side, the overwhelming outcry for healing that we (and God!) have heard from all of you, the dates that Josh and I have been making these weekly appointments into (today we had lunch after the appointment at a restaurant I'd been craving for weeks), and the peace that God gently places in our hearts as we throw up our hands in surrender.

Okay, time for that sweet story! ...the boys are going through a season of re-learning how to go to bed nicely. Henry is not as tired as he used to be at bedtime because he is getting older, and Jonathan is in the midst of potty training (which makes a great excuse to get out of bed- "I poopy mommy..."). I was quite ready to have my quiet mommy time last night, knowing I needed to address some things deep in my heart. I put Henry to bed, and took Jonathan to the bathroom one last time- after which he says, "I hug you mommy?". YES. Absolutely, YES! Then he started stroking my hair (and melting my heart), and HE suggested that we sit on the couch and he could play with my hair. Definitely an excuse to not go to bed, but that sounded great so I agreed :) So, my almost-3 yr old little boy who had raced around all evening, sat still on the couch and gently stroked my hair for 20 minutes! (HEAVEN.) Henry started to cry part way through, and Jonathan paused and leaned over my shoulder and whispered, "He's cryin' for YOU, Mama". Woah. What joy! ...then Jonathan proceeded to tell me that Henry was hungry and that's why he was crying. I answered that no, we had just had a bedtime snack and he would have to wait until breakfast. "He's hungry 'gain, Mama", said J, and we chatted about how both of them needed to learn to go to bed quietly the first time. More stroking of my hair, and as J began to lose focus, it became bedtime. Jonathan and I peeked at Henry when we came in their room- he was flat on his back, arms and legs spread, mouth wide open, very asleep. I love, love those little boys. And I love, love the little girl I carry, and barely know.