An open letter to my son


Forgive me for my sense of urgency. I’m still figuring mothering and you out.

How to combine you both and learning to love through pain and uncertainty is foreign to me. I’m trying hard to be your hero, your strong momma in the midst of chaos. I love you. You inspire me. You are the fire cracker that gets me moving in the morning (some times way too early) but you keep me on my toes in more ways then one.

I know you being small and dependent won’t last forever. It is a privilege to be so needed by you and that is what you are to me.

You keep me present and help me to soak the heck out of the moment. You are my teacher in many ways, although you have no clue what an impact you are to me daily, hourly. You are a beaming joy and light encased in a 2 year old eager little boy full of wonder and adventure yet to discover. God’s beautiful masterpiece.

You are high spirited and the moment we knew your name meaning we had no doubt it was the one for you. You have world changing spunk within your core and a stubborn- ah hem *passionate* leadership about you that I know will be birthed in time. You come alive with music. It is a gift to witness you change the atmosphere by simply being yourself. You are a prize not many will know how to recieve because you are a breath of fresh, real, honest right in your face air.

You are my constant reminder of real and significance. All to often I drift off into my thoughts and you pull me out and want to just hang and play dinosaurs.

You show me how to love with action. You. Changed. My. Life.

You teach me the importance of reaching out to others and being available. You make me want to run around the backyard with you for the sheer beauty that we can. You bring me to life and take me out of hiding.

Your boldness is a treasure (and some days I would kill to have half of your energy). We are on a journey of uncovering eachother. You peel layers from me and I help you to discover a world that is brand new to you.

I will never give up the pursuit to know who you are and to speak life over you. I am forever on your side, and if the day comes where you move me to the bleachers, with a semi-broken heart I’ll be shouting praises from a distance. I love you.

The reality of Grief (Gaining our angel baby)

A couple days before I found out, I noticed that my bump was going down. I remember being 2 months last time, my bump wasn’t that noticeable but it resembled a cute, almond shape. I knew something was up. I showed J (my husband) and had him feel my stomach. He said “You haven’t eaten much today love.” I said “Ya, but that shouldn’t matter.” Later he told me in the hospital, that he noticed the bump was going down but didn’t want to say anything to lose hope. I didn’t want to go initially because there’s usually a long wait and getting a sitter every time just to check things out isn’t ideal. Heck, if I did that with every bleed, pain or cyst I’d be in there a stupid amount.

I bled a lot with Ty (my son, now almost 2) and cramped as well. This one just felt different. It wasn’t until the pain got more intense and I started passing tissue that I felt I had to get checked. I remember sitting in the ER waiting area and feeling so faint. I had gone right from work and didn’t get a chance to eat beforehand. I was really hot, and it was hard to breath unless I took in deep, exaggerated breaths. My body knew something wasn’t right and I think it all hit me, sitting in the room, waiting to be called.

I was hoping so bad that the Doc would say my cervix was still closed and just to take it easy. I read stories of mom’s going through something similar and everything turned out to be ok, telling the reader not to worry. I spoke scripture over this baby and kept thanking God I was even pregnant. I wasn’t letting my mind go to the negative side.

I knew right away when the doctor was finished the examination. He didn’t say anything.I asked “So, is my cervix open?” He paused, “Yeah, unfortunately it is.” Tears streamed down my face. The nurse grabbed my hand and said “I’m so sorry hun”, while handing me tissue. The Doctor said the M word and told me they had to do further examinations.

From the moment I found out, it was like I wanted to just soak it in but the doctor was rushing me to get down to an ultrasound (to see how much tissue was left and determine the next steps to take). They left me to get dressed and I balled. I hadn’t cried that hard in a long time. I called Jordan and while I was dialing, another nurse tried to open the curtain saying she was going to wheel me down to get my ultrasound. I said through tears, “Can I have a moment please?” She stared at my face and said in a soft tone “Of course”, and closed the curtain. There was silence on the other end of the phone.

I knew he felt pain but he didn’t know what to say or how to say it. I just kept crying. He kept saying ‘I love you’, trying to reassure me it would be ok. He called my mom to see if she could come watch Ty so he could be with me for the remainder of the exams. He took a cab after my mom got there, not even 15 minutes of the phone call. She’s an angel! We’re so blessed to have her!

I was wheeled down and upon reaching the bathroom the tech asked me if my bladder was empty. That word. I couldn’t respond, there was a lump in my throat. I finally said, “I don’t know.” It was the only words I could gather. She said “Ok, I’m going to need you to try to go, then. “I need an empty bladder.” She helped me up and I closed the door.

This is when it really hit me that life goes on. That’s been the hardest part for me, knowing that life has to continue on. I have to grieve on the side as I carry on about our day, helping my son, trying to play and be cheerful with him. I feel guilty for trying to feel ‘ok’, to put on a mask for the world. And this too I have no control over and have to just accept. I’m sitting here on Monday morning, 1:30 am(we found out Sat night Feb 20th) and I just balled for about 2 hours straight. It started when I was making J’s lunch.. just little tasks feel so hard. It’s like I am forgetting what happened or the pain and I think that’s what’s getting to me. Carrying on. The ‘what if’ is what is so hard. The not knowing is and was the worse part. If I had just known that I was in fact M then I would have taken time off work, would have asked for help.. but I didn’t and I couldn’t save this baby.

But Jesus did. He will raise our baby and they will know no pain. That is what I’m trying to keep my focus on, but for now this seems like empty words. But I’m learning that’s ok because sometimes that’s all you can give.

 

{If you are going through something similar and want to talk to someone who can relate, or just vent, please feel free to contact me. I had a lot of questions that I didn’t feel comfortable asking, and male doctors just didn’t give me the answers I was seeking. I can help, no question is too ‘gross’ or invasive. I’ve been there, I can listen, pray with you, just be there. Contact ninna900@hotmail.com, or message my privately on any social media.} ❤ You are never alone in this.

 

baby2

 

Psalm 34:18The Lord is close to the broken hearted
   and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

I am so obsessed with becoming.

 

Becoming the woman God designed me to be.
Becoming overwhelmingly joyful with life, even in sorrow because I know that nothing matters more than eternity and the steps leading up to.

I’m at a place where God is giving me such peace in freedom. Freedom to write, to sing, to plan as long as I keep Him first. He knows my heart, he knows what stirs my soul. My lists, plans, dreams- I am a dreamer and he knows this.

.. but am I a dreamer for His kingdom? This is where I need to check myself.

It’s easy for me, therapeutic even to sit down and write out life goals. But truly, He is the only one who knows how things will go, what will pan out and what He has is store. I have my life mapped out from now until I’m 50. Give or take some years. 😉  But God likes to remind me that although that’s cute to dream and all, He has the ultimate say. The more I try to make life my own the more the picture gets distorted. I need to trust that He’s got this. I need to relinquish control. God’s showing me that although I wouldn’t necessarily say that I’m a selfish person, I am with my self, my will. If that makes sense. I’m going somewhere with this..

God’s hand can’t be in something if we’re constantly holding the pen.

When we’re solely steering the ship, we’re going to crash into icebergs, it’s inevitable. That’s why we need God and His direction. He’s really shaking things up in me and I need to give Him control in all areas of life. This has been a huge conviction I’ve been dealing with lately.

{Any one else going through a season of complete trust and giving up control?}