7 months

He gives strength to the weary
    and increases the power of the weak.
Even youths grow tired and weary,
    and young men stumble and fall;
 but those who hope in the Lord
    will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
    they will run and not grow weary,
    they will walk and not be faint.

Isaiah 40:29-31

Another 31st has come around and I can't help but reflect on the passing of another month. I live with a conflicted heart about the passing of time. I want time to pass quickly so I can move past the physical pain from my pregnancy, and get to meet our next little one. Yet at the same time I don't want to be taken further away from our short time with Gideon. I know I'm not alone in the struggle with time as many moms long for time to stand still a little longer as they watch their children grow all too fast before their eyes. I still remember the births of each of my children and the various things my doctor or nurses remarked about them. Both Will and Luke received comments on the sheer volume of their hair, especially Luke who could pull off all kinds of crazy hair styles right after birth. While Olivia, received comments about her adorable chubby cheeks. 

Luke around 2 months old

Will at 1 year

Olivia only hours old

Of course Gideon's birth was a little quieter but their were sweet looks and mentions of his perfect little feet and about how incredibly adorable he was. He looked at peace from the moment he entered our arms until he went to be with Jesus. I think my biggest fear going into delivery was the idea of having to watch him struggle. However by the grace of God there was never a struggle and in some ways I'm thankful for that. There were only sweet moments of holding our little boy and soaking in all that we could.

I can say seven months out that my and Mark's grief looks different than it did initially, but it's still there. There are moments when a song comes on the radio or a sermon at our church hits a nerve and we feel it all over again. It can sneak up on us in the strangest places...the other day I had a hard study session with our kindergartner who refused to write a single number between 1 and 5. She knows her numbers orally but we are still working on the writing aspect. I had a moment of total over reaction and it was for more than her stubbornness, but more for the fact that I felt I had failed her...maybe she inherited my hatred of all things related to math...that I am a bad mom for not making her write numbers endlessly all summer....the idea that she's going to fail Kindergarten after only 10 days of school (I know I was just that far gone emotionally-and in reality after a few days of daily practice she's writing 1-5 just fine but check in with me next week and my husband and I may be convincing her again that "Elsa from Frozen knows how to write her numbers")...but all that over reaction finally landed at the source....did I not do enough for my Gideon? If I failed her then surely I failed to do more for Gideon to possibly extend his life beyond mere minutes. I know every time I go down that rabbit trail my husband, who is more on the realistic side of life, grounds me by reminding me that we couldn't have done more. Gideon was not breathing and what would it have given us to be more aggressive? A few hours of life where I wouldn't see or hold him in the NICU? These rabbit trails happen at the strangest times and are very hard to get out of.

For me another trigger is my pregnancy pain...it triggers vivid memories of all the times I bargained with God that I'd stay in pain for much longer if it meant Gideon would remain safe. This pregnancy is very similar to all my pregnancies...first comes the quick positive test and the happy dance of being pregnant...then in a few weeks comes the "I thought I wanted to eat that tonight but the smell is driving me nuts right now" (So my normal organization of weekly meal planning goes to planning a few days at a time)...then comes the pain (Yes I've tried almost every concept under the sun to fix this issue from rest, water, staying out of heat, lying on my left side (the magical side to lay on), Tylenol, Pilates, chiropractics, maternity belts, etc.)...next come contractions (My way too realistic braxton hicks that typically increase consistently in intensity and time until they drop off around hour 5-I refuse to even call the doctor until I'm going longer than 5 hours) Right now I'm emotionally trying to handle the fact that this pregnancy feels like it did with Gideon, but no shoe has dropped yet.

I thought once we had the blood test that it would be smooth sailing for me emotionally. However I think between the pain cutting my sleep short and the fact that pain at any level for days on end is hard, my mind gravitates and pulls me to the not so fun thoughts. I think I'm still waiting to feel confident that nothing will go wrong, but once your world has been rocked you don't quite feel that confidence as much. I am confident in the truths of the Bible and that God is for us. However, I'm also very much aware of how little control I have in this life. I'm aware that at any point, at any scan, or test something could happen or something could be detected.

Once again it's a daily choice to live in faith or fear...it really all boils down to that. The only hope I have to survive the day is to intentionally wake up before the kids, so hard to do as someone who'd rather sleep in, and get some time in God's word and talk to him before life happens. It's in those early minutes that I'm standing on God's truth that I know I'm not alone in this life. God is with me and walking beside me as I go, and when the scary thoughts come I can turn to him and talk. Even if it is to cry that I still don't understand-I only see a part of it all but he knows the whole story.

Just this last Sunday we sang a song at church that still gets to me every time I hear it! If you are going through a hard time or just need to be reminded of some basic truth I suggest you check it out!

Still by Hillsong

https://youtu.be/O6Fw8DgvTQA