Telling The Sister

TJ and I went back and forth about when and how to tell Faith.  But we ended up with her telling us...kinda.
We knew what was up (obviously, duh!), but hadn't said a single word in front of Faith.  She started telling US that we were going to have a baby.   TJ and I were sure that my mom was feeding her the line, but then Faith started telling us God told her.  Upon further conversation she start telling us that God had been coming into her room and kissing her head and telling her that we were going to have a baby.  I mean, God has never spoken to me audibly, but I'm not doubting His desire, willingness, or ability to meet my baby in her pink striped princess room and show her love.  And I will say this, she is no-joke serious when she talks about it.
We did, though, actually sit down and talk to her after our second doctor's appointment.  And while she obviously wasn't surprised, she WAS ecstatic.  She started bouncing and squealing on the couch and had the most beautiful smile on her face.  We put her big sister shirt on and drove her around the countryside telling our parents.
We almost got to tell everyone before it got to Facebook.  Too bad not everyone got a phone call.  We know who to tell last now, though, if we ever have another child.

This coming week the sister gets to find out if she will have a baby brother or sister to show the ropes to.  We find out on Tuesday then onto names!  Exciting stuff around her.

As far as how I'm feeling- I'm ready for the last week of school to come to an end.  Exhaustion isn't even the right word.  Whatever is about 2 steps past exhaustion is how I feel.  Probably mile 11 or 12 of a half-marathon, for my runner friends.  Today I wore my Bella Band with my pants unbuttoned for the first time and I'm convinced I will look like a mix between the Loch Ness Monster and a rhino by the end of September.  I've apologized to TJ in advance.

Lastly, we are trying to find a place to move Faith to for preschool.  Her MDO teachers are leaving and we are uneasy and unsettled about the other class at her school.  We feel like we need to be thankful for our time there and find another place for her. Problem- my first choice is too far away from our house and doesn't meet our needs right now.  And is more expensive for much less time at school.  Please pray that God would give us a clear choice of where he wants Faith to go to school- where she would have teachers that love Jesus and her, friends that she can love and love her, and that her early-childhood-development-crazy moma knows her developmental needs are being met.  Seems like a big bill, but I know God will show us.  All prayers appreciated.

Sweet, Sometimes Inappropriate Child of Mine

Faith has a way with words.  She can break out the most inappropriate comebacks at the most inopportune times.  A few weeks ago at church she turned the lights off in class and yelled "It's Make Out Time!" WTH? Seriously- WTH?  We monitor what she watches a lot more than some of our friends, but its like her mind is a steel trap for the unacceptable.
Tonight she had me laughing all night long.  I try not to laugh, but what in the world as you supposed to do when you child scoops up "toot water" out of the bathtub and pretends to drink it?  What, tell me, please?
Before she went to bed we were in the living room and she wanted me to hold her and sing to her.  I started singing old hymns and rocking her back and forth.

He speaks and the sound of His voice
Is so sweet the birds hush their singing.
And the melody that He gave to me 
Within my heart is ringing.
And He walks with me 
And He talks with me
And He tells me I am His own.
And the joy we share as we tarry there
None other has ever known.

And then here little voice through the silence:
"Mommy.  You MUST be talking about God.  That sounds just like Him."


Talk about bringing a mommy to tears.  "You're right.  That IS just like Him."

You can't walk into THAT place without feeling nauseous, like you're going to cry or be short with someone or the unthinkable is going to happen again. You can't step on that scale, be in that room, see that nurse without remembering the day you thought that for a split second God somehow forgot about you. That His angels took a break while on duty and Satan snuck in the back door when no one was looking.
Going back in there has never gotten easier. Everytime I feel the taste of bile, my eyes start to burn and I want to run away.
But let's just be honest- that was Satan's plan all along. To hit me with a bone rattling left hook that shook me to my core then to make me relive it with little jabs every so often. He's crafty, that jerk.

It's impossible to explain miscarriage to someone who hasn't experienced it. It doesn't matter how far along you are, which pregnancy, or who you had told; it is the mourning of never getting to see someone you've loved with all your heart. Never knowing their eyes, their hair, their tiny fingers and toes. Never getting to console their cries with your kisses or hearing them say I love you, mommy. That's the loss that no one can understand. That you would never want anyone else to go through, yet you wish they would get.  That NEVER goes away, is just buried under days and months and years.

So there we were sitting and waiting (and waiting because they overbook themselves every.dang.day). I had never been so anxious. The same sweet nurse, the same schpill, the same packet of info we had shoved back in her face through tears last visit. The same machine wheeled in. I honestly had my eyes closed so tight for a second I thought the electricity went out. Then the same static noise. And the waiting. Would we hear silence and whispering and see "the look" or would we leave smiling today? Then, out of static came a teeny tiny heartbeat. In that moment I felt like Jesus had just battled Satan and returned what he had stole from us last year. And really, He did.


More soon...