Every Season

They say when it rains it pours and that was certainly been true for me this past month. A few weeks ago as I doubled over in pain from a kidney stone, I found myself explaining multiple times that 'no, it wasn't possible I was pregnant because I miscarried less than a week ago'. There were other small things going wrong around me as well and I truly felt as though I was being clubbed again and again. 

“For everything there is a season,
a time for every activity under heaven.
A time to be born and a time to die.
A time to plant and a time to harvest.
A time to kill and a time to heal.
A time to tear down and a time to build up.
A time to cry and a time to laugh.
A time to grieve and a time to dance.”

— Ecclesiastes 3:1-4

Ecclesiastes 3 has always been somewhat of a touchstone passage for me. When things seem to be crumbling around me, I try to remind myself that it is just a season and things will get better. It can be hard to stay positive when it seems like troubles keep coming one after another. In fact it becomes incredibly easy to start going backwards and listing out every thing that has gone wrong in the past year, two years, even five years. 

About six weeks ago I was at a Holiday Market Event with lots of family and friends. It was one of my bigger events this fall and it went really well. Towards the end of the day my 'graceful' tendencies showed out and I spilled a container full of gemstones all over the floor. It wasn't just any container. It was my container of gemstone chips; carefully curated and separated into "seasons" for my Tree of Life designs. We all worked together to gather the stones and put them in one large bag. As I put the bag away I noticed how beautiful the mixture of colors really was. In the moment I knew this was one of those things that would mean something later.

I pulled that bag of stones out almost a month ago now and decided they would look really nice set against some copper wire. As I wore my new favorite design, slowly & softly it started speaking to me. 

This season of life that I am in feels as though it is lasting forever. Moments like the one I had in the ER a couple of days before Thanksgiving are particularly hard to swallow when it seems there is no end in sight. A container of spilled gemstones reminded me though, that it's only when all of these "seasons" are blended together that we will see the beautiful picture God is painting with our lives. 

My story isn't over yet. This really hard, really difficult season is just a piece of it. Without this barren winter the finished product wouldn't be nearly as beautiful. I may not know what the end of my story looks like, but I do know that these years of seeming desperation will only make it that much more beautiful.

Shop Every Season Tree of Life Jewelry 

Bathsheba is my hero

Last week I sat in my living room with two of my closest friends and confided that I was feeling very unworthy of a task that I know God is pushing me towards right now. I may not have made public monumental mistakes, but I've screwed up a lot over the years and there are lots of moments in my life that I'm not proud of. Knowing that there are plenty of people who knew that part of me makes me incredibly hesitant to do anything that appears as though I somehow think I deserve to be a mouthpiece for God. Then last week in the bible study we are working through we got into the story of David. It was a familiar story, but rather than looking at David, I found myself identifying with Bathsheba, a grieving mother. Suddenly I saw something very different in this story.

Bathsheba is a young bride whose husband, Uriah, is away at war. People often talk about her brazenly bathing for anyone to see, but the scripture actually says it was the middle of the night! As I think this through, she is probably staying in a home with other family members while Uriah is away and has little privacy. She waits until everyone has gone to bed and goes to the only place she can think of to have a few moments to herself to take a bath - the roof. She has no idea that David has seen her and is asking around about her. In fact, when the king sends for her I imagine she was terrified. Maybe she thinks her husband was killed or that she's done something to land herself in a lot of trouble. It's likely that she had no idea David intended to sleep with her. Also, I imagine that even if she wanted to say no, she couldn't. After all, he was the king. What would happen to her if she refused him? Then she gets pregnant & I'm confident that David didn't consult her about plotting to kill her husband, Uriah, in the war. So now she's lost her husband & not only is she pregnant, but everyone around her must know what is going on. She's rushed to the palace to marry the king and her child is born much less than nine months later. That baby was probably the only bright spot in her life many days. Then her child gets sick. David knows it is because of his sin, but does Bathsheba? There is no indication if she does or doesn't know. Chances are she only knows that her child is sick & dying. This woman has been through a lot of heartache in a year's time.

Suddenly, I'm commiserating with Bathsheba. I didn't cheat on my husband & I don't think that God took my son away, but It's been a really hard couple of years. I would be lying if I didn't admit that in some of my darker moments I question if I'm somehow to blame for losing my son.

After that terrible year though, the bible says that David and Bathsheba had Solomon. Solomon, a man who when told he could have anything in the world asked only for wisdom and compassion. That had to be a proud mama moment.

Thinking about Bathsheba and Solomon I remembered that Solomon wrote all of Proverbs including chapter 31 which is the go to scripture for women who want to be godly wives & mothers.

I did a little research and there are two references in all of scripture regarding King Lemuel (the king whose mother is attributed with Proverbs 31), both are in the book of Proverbs. Lemuel is translated to mean "belonging to God" and traditionally most believe that Solomon was referring to himself. That would mean that the godly advice given in Proverbs 31:1-9 is coming directly from Bathsheba herself & that either she is speaking in verses 10-31 or her son is making those comments while reflecting on what his mother taught him. 

Either way, all of this makes me think that Bathsheba - a woman whose reputation was ruined and who has been widely regarded throughout history as a wanton adulteress - in fact became a godly woman and mother who is still giving us guidance today.

Wow.

Bathsheba is my hero.

Counting it ALL Joy

This Sunday will be James’s first birthday. There will be no smash cake, no adorable photo shoot, no big party to celebrate our baby getting another year older. Just reminders of all of the things we missed out on this year. No first laughs, no sleepless nights because he isn’t feeling well, no tummy time or learning to crawl. 

It’s so lonely when normally happy, joyful moments are clouded with a yearning for what you were supposed to have. I had a new niece born this summer and she is so beautiful.  I LOVE when I get to see her and spend time with her. But I so long to be passing along advice to my baby sister about what worked with James when he started teething, or how we got him to sleep through the night the first time. I can’t though, because that was taken away from us.

When we were finally ready to start trying to have another baby, we got two pink lines the very first month! For five days I was so excited. For five days I knocked the dust off the old nursery plans. For five days I started thinking about baby names & holiday plans & how we would tell our family the good news – we were going to announce on Mother’s Day.

Then, after five days, I learned what it was like to lose a baby that I never had a chance to name. I discovered that five days is long enough to become a mom again. Five days is long enough for the grief that comes after to pull you under. Five days matters.

During the eight months between losing James and losing our second baby I can’t count the number of times I said, “I don’t know what it’s like to have a miscarriage.” I encountered so many people who were walking paths of infertility that included devastating miscarriage after miscarriage and I felt so inept to offer support, because I knew that what I had gone through with James was different.

I thought what I had gone through with James was harder than a miscarriage, and in a lot of ways it was. But all of the things that made losing him so much harder, were the same things that allowed us to experience joy even in the sadness. I felt James kick. I heard his strong heartbeat. I held his precious, beautiful little body.

I experienced none of those joys with my second very brief pregnancy. Does that make it easier? Maybe. I don’t think about that baby every single day. I don’t imagine it’s little face when I hold my niece. While I’m incredibly sad about losing it, I have no memories of that baby aside from some mild nausea and two pink lines.

Two losses in such a short time are not fair. I’m still dealing with a lot of anger, but I also appreciate the perspective that our second baby gave me. We have amazing pictures from our time with James that we haven’t shared because it was too hard, but if my miscarriage taught me anything, it was to hold on tight to those memories. Most women who lose their babies don’t get those moments. I want to remember every detail of our precious boy and every minute that God gave us with him.

When James was born I bought a lot of scrapbooking supplies because I was going to put together a baby book that told his story. I wanted something to remember his time with us, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to start working on it until now. With James’s first birthday coming up it is time. I’m looking at pictures again, and it’s bringing back a lot of really tough emotions. It’s also reminding me that we were so lucky to have that time with him. We were so fortunate to have an amazing friend in Amanda Morgan who was willing to come to the hospital at 9pm on a Saturday night and stay until 4:30 in the morning capturing the moments that we will spend the rest of lives trying to never forget.

A lot of you purchased the necklace I designed last year when we were building James’s Memorial Garden. Your support was so overwhelming and we are so grateful to have such a loving community around us. This year I’m hoping to sell just as many James’s Joy Necklaces because 50% of the proceeds will be going to Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep in memory of James. This non-profit provides photography services for parents like us who are dealing the their worst nightmare & trying to capture some joy to hold onto.

Several have already responded. If you are one of them thank you so much! If you haven't had the opportunity yet, I would love your help. Maybe you or someone you know needs one of these necklaces as a reminder to count it all JOY. Maybe you could share James’s story on Social Media so your friends and family can know how special our little boy was to so many of us. Maybe you just want to make a direct donation to Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep in memory of James, I would love that too.

We will celebrate his birthday this weekend. It won’t be a typical first birthday party with a lot of guests and presents and cake. It will simply be time spent in his garden loving on our family. We are still grieving, and probably always will be, but this weekend will be about the Joy he brought into our lives for a season, and the lessons that we learned about faith and family through his short life.

It's going to be an emotional week, thank you in advance for your prayers and all your support.

Unrest

My heart is so heavy. The past few weeks have been full of moments that slam the breath right out of me and drop me to my knees with overwhelming grief. Two weeks ago, in the middle of an ordinary day, something as simple as a promotional mailer set my world in a bit of a tailspin that I haven't pulled out of yet. My conscience is waging a constant war against the angry woman inside of me screaming for people to be more appreciative, more considerate, less self-absorbed. While this righteous anger is swirling in my gut, I'm also admonishing myself for the same self-absorbed thinking that can't seem to forget that the rest of the world isn't living my experience.

This tug of war that goes on inside of me spills out in angry sobs and makes me want to hide under the covers and pretend the rest of the world hasn't continued to go on as though my son never existed.

I battle the depression and anxiety as I always have, essentially throwing myself into project after project to keep me busy. While this works to keep me active and in society rather than tucked into my bed for days on end, it doesn't really help. It only buys time between meltdowns.

I haven't been spending much time listening to God lately. I've been talking at Him a lot, but then I cut Him off and throw myself into the next project. I'm not sure why I've taken that distance. Maybe I want to hang on to my righteous anger. Maybe being angry is easier than being hurt and sad. Maybe I'm afraid that He will ask me to give up a project or two. 

Back in January I went to a weekend conference where Angie Smith was the speaker. She was talking about grief and anger and pointed out that God is big. He doesn't have a problem with our anger. He only asks that we come to Him with it. That makes sense to me. I think back over the years and there have been plenty of relationships that had to be repaired with uncomfortable conversations that started with, "I love you, but you really hurt me." Or even, "I'm really mad at you right now and I need some time to calm down."

I think that is where I am with God. I'm hurt and angry because I know that He could have saved my son. He could have chosen to heal my James and I wouldn't be so bitter or heartbroken. The problem is I haven't really told Him yet. I talk to Him about other things, about other people's needs, then I cut Him off before we can go deeper. 

God, I'm hurt. I've seen You work miracles for other people, but You didn't do it for me. I know that is petty, but I'm jealous of the other moms who bring home healthy children, some without even trying. I know people aren't having babies to make me jealous. I know people are complaining about parenting because it is legitimately hard work, not because they want to rub it in my face that they have children at home. Even though I'm angry, I do still love You. I know that You love me too, and that ultimately You do want good things for me. I think I just needed a little time. This conversation is really uncomfortable but I know we need to have it. Now that I've said all that, I think I'm ready to listen again.

In the Garden

Yesterday marked a year since we saw those two pink lines that said we would be parents. This Christmas has been incredibly difficult for Jason and I but it was filled with love and family. Last night we came home from Christmas Eve Mass and I discovered that Jason had strung lights on one of the trees in the garden "for James". My carefully maintained facade cracked and we sobbed in one another's arms. This Christmas, while wonderful, was not what it was supposed to be, at least as far as we'd planned.

We dedicated James's Garden Thanksgiving Weekend and the month since has been so difficult for us. There are days that the grief is so heavy I feel I could simply collapse beneath it, but mostly I drown myself in busyness to avoid emotions and search out small things to be happy about. 

Planning this garden was very enlightening. I learned that it is often when a plant appears to be bare and without much chance at survival that it has the most growth. Tonight I stood in James's Garden and saw the new life we planted just weeks ago is now wilting and bare. How encouraging to think that perhaps this barren and desolate time will not only lead to growth for these trees and plants, but might bring about something beautiful in us as well.

It comes as little surprise to me that the most profound connection I've felt with God during this time relates to another garden. The night before his crucifixion Jesus prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane. In the Gospel of Matthew he says, "Oh My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me". I was right there beside Jesus asking God if there wasn't some other way.

When we came home from the doctor the Thursday before Easter (coincidence? I don't think so) after receiving James's diagnosis I was begging God not to ask this of us. We knew we couldn't let our baby go. Still, I couldn't imagine being able to survive the pain if he didn't make it. I began to pray that if James couldn't survive for God to please take him from us and spare us that pain. I am so very grateful that God stamped His all knowing NO on that prayer.

We loved James so much already and we hadn't even met him yet. We knew that if there was even the smallest chance he could make it we had to do everything in our power to give it to him.

Ya'll that's what Jesus did for us when he said, "if this cup cannot pass away from me unless I drink it, Your will be done." He hadn't met us yet, but He loved us so much already. He knew that going to the cross was the only chance we had, so He gave it to us.

Obviously I'm not Jesus, but I realized that when it came to understanding what I was feeling, he knows better than any one.

A few days after the crucifixion, in another garden, Jesus appeared to a grieving and distraught Mary. He'd been resurrected just as He'd promised. Still, she didn't even recognize him through her grief. In the middle of intense sadness it is hard to remember His promises. I can tell you I have been there, and still am many days. Often I am so overwhelmed with grief that I don't recognize He is walking right alongside me.

But He is. I could tell endless stories of all the amazing people that God has put right in front of me through this journey. Sometimes I know immediately that He is at work through them and other times it becomes clear much later. No matter when I catch on though, He is always there.

One of the incredible things about James's Garden is that while we sit and remember our son, we are looking out at reminders of all of our blessings. Listening to the peaceful sound of the fountain, I'm looking at the home Jason and I are making. I see the fire pit where we make wonderful memories with our friends. On the occasions our yard is full of nieces and nephews playing, I know that one day we will have little ones joining in the fun. 

I will never be able to fully express the gratitude we have for all of the help and contributions that made this vision of ours a reality. James's Garden will continue to be a work of love for years to come. I look forward to helping my future children plant flowers near the fountain while telling them them all about their brother in heaven and how very special he is. His story isn't over. He continues to make me a better person for having been his mom. One day, in a new garden, I will hold my sweet baby again. Until that day comes I will do my best to make the most of his life, by doing as much good as I can with mine. 

Today we are celebrating the birthday of a Savior who made that possible. Cherish your families. Hug them a little tighter tonight for me, and have a very Merry Christmas. 

#projectmended

I gritted my teeth as I raised my arms above my head and threw the black trash bag to the ground. I heard the shattering of clay and watched the bag break to release a few larger pieces of the pot. The emotional release brought me to tears. I'd been waiting six weeks to break something.

Let me rewind for you. While I was pregnant with James I read a book called "I Will Carry You" by Angie Smith. It was good to read someone else's story and be able to say 'yes, that's exactly how it feels'. After James was born I had a devotional, "Grieving the Child I Never Knew" that my cousin had given to me. It was another great book with stories I needed to hear and more soul screams of "Exactly!" It has always been helpful for me to have a book or devotional to help focus me in my quiet time and help me read my bible with purpose. So I did some digging and found that Angie Smith has written more books and bible studies since I Will Carry You. I decided that Mended would be a good one for me. I read the introduction and the first chapter and then set it aside. She suggests breaking a piece of pottery and gluing it back together. I wanted to do that before I got started on the book and after a couple of conversations I convinced my mom and two of my sisters to do it with me. We went for breakfast and then to Hobby Lobby with 40% off coupons in search of things to break.

We spent the afternoon around my moms kitchen table with glue guns and broken pottery listening to music, making observations (and a few jokes) about how our pieces were like us and of course crying. As I got closer to finishing my pot I made the observation that the point of impact where my piece was the most broken and impossible to completely put back together was the most beautiful part of the pot. As I said it out loud tears started to pour down my face and there was no stopping them. I didn't even realize how much I was crying at first. I burned myself pretty badly with the glue gun and realized that I'd done as much repair as I could. I was finished trying to put the pot back together. 

I'm so broken right now. I looked forward to this season as one of the happiest and most beautiful ones of our life together. I planned to take an extended maternity leave so I could soak up the hours with our little one. I should have been planning a nursery, not a memorial garden. I should be deciding what adorable onesie James is going to wear today, not picking out planters for his fountain. This, the point of impact, was supposed to be a beautiful and happy time. Now it is shattered, and I've done the best I can to put it back together, but I can't. Now I have to trust God to spill out through the cracks and show me how it can still be used for His glory.

I know He will. I know we will be better people for having walked through this season with Him by our sides. He will help us heal. We will be mended.

Gratitude

My heart is simply bursting with gratitude today as I head out to mail these special necklaces to their new homes. The generosity and support of our friends and family made it possible for us to start work on James's memorial garden this weekend. This is such a healing process for me and Jason. The knowledge that our son's short life will not be forgotten and that he has touched so many makes the heartache a little easier to bear. 

2 Corinthians 1:3-4 says, "Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God."

So many have answered that call to comfort and support us using their own experiences as a guide. We are so grateful to them and to God for sending them to us. I hope that in the future we might answer the call in the same way. For now I hope that these necklaces are a blessing to those who wear them as they have been for me. Creating these necklaces and building this garden is helping us heal. We simply couldn't do these things without the love and support we are receiving.

Thank you.