Merry Christmas!

Every year I have asked God for a Christmas gift. Something just between Him and I. Of course every year I try to give Him something back, but really that's a bit difficult. I'm a little smaller then He is. :)

This year my request has changed a couple of times. Originally I had asked Him to help me loose weight. Ha. What a lame request. Then I asked Him to please bless my business instead - again pretty lame. Then I asked Him to scrap all that and please bless us with a child. He did, and then she went to live with Him. I was pretty tempted at the time to call Him an "Indian Giver" (pardon my slang). Then I changed it all since really it wasn't Christmas yet, and asked Him for the hugest favor of ALL time. I won't share as it is too personal, but it was something I deemed "IMPOSSIBLE".

It is Christmas evening and He has very generously given me my "impossible" gift. I really do wish I could give Him a large thing back, but I guess He will just have to settle for just me this year.... AGAIN!

So very very very stunned, amazed, and grateful I am. Should have known better as He loves to knock my socks off.

OH, and tonight when we were saying bedtime prayers Elyana was all done, then said OH I forgot to say to God a question (statement). "And dear God, Merry Christmas!"

Merry Christmas God.

Snow

When you are a kid snow means:

• Something new to eat
• Something to throw at your brother
• A new toy
• FUN, FUN outside
• Whoever gets cold anyway?
• Christmas!
• Asking mom for carrots and finding rocks for a snowman's features
• Everything looking all white and pretty

When you are a MOM snow means:

• I have to drive in that? to where?
• No, you cannot eat the snow off of our driveway
• Bundling everyone up only to realize that Gavin has no snowboots, Elyana's snowboots are too small, noone has waterproof mittens, but hey, here we go
• Going out to the front yard, then getting the idea to pull the sled out in the backyard so traipsing through the house to go out back
• Realizing the dog is wayyy too excited out back, so moving the kids to the front yard again
• No, you cannot eat dirty snow off of the tree
• YES your snow angel is so beautiful!
• Oops Gavin is crying - yes he is soaking wet and cold. We're going in!
• Taking everyone's coats, mittens, hats, scarfs, snow pants, too small boots, shoes, and socks off. putting dry clothes on everyone.
• Collapsing on the couch to then realize that the trips through the house earlier have left wet snowy water on your wood floor.

BUT it is so very beautiful and it's CHRISTMAS! (NO, you may not eat snow off of your wet coat!)

Merry Christmas!

Here we are... two months later! Wow time flies.

Just put the children to bed. Gavin's music selection tonight is Kenny G Christmas classics. :) Elyana is trying to go to sleep after not liking supper so she didn't get anything else. Dave is watching some movie on his computer and giggling in the backround.

Life is bitter sweet for me tonight. Here I sit in my lovely Christmas decorated house with my family (who granted sometimes drive me nuts), while around the world many of my friends/family are without work, some don't have any family, and some are falling apart with or without telling people. Sometimes it makes you wonder what the heck is going on up there.

You ready for Christmas? I am sadly mostly done with my shopping. I do this every year - shop throughout the year then the Christmas season comes and I am done. However, it is Christmas so I want to go out and buy presents. Argh! Next year I vow to wait until December.

That's all folks. There really isn't anything new.

Thoughts

Don't know what to say. My heart is still broken. It's been 12 days since my miscarriage. "Miscarriage" that's such a harsh word. Of course, the whole experience is harsh. If I would paint, the photo would be very red and black.

The question I hate the most right now is "How are you?" What do you say to that? Sometimes I don't know if the person who is asking knows what happened, or if they are just trying to be kind, or just maybe polite? I just want to yell as loud as you can "I JUST LOST MY BABY! HOW DO YOU THINK I AM??!?!"

Yet, the greatest thing is through the enormity of it all, the mind numbing swirl of facts and feelings; there is such a place of serenity and calmness right there in the very middle. God is good. Either you believe that or you don't. He is not good "some of the time", or "when it's convenient". He's either good or He is not. End of discussion. I believe He is good, and I believe He gives good things to His children. For some odd and very unexplainable reason this event was good.

However, the process is without a doubt the most physically painful and emotionally wracking experience I have ever lived through. It hurt worse then having a baby without pain medication at full term. It still hurts, I'm so very very sore.

But I have hope. When I cry there is still calmness in my heart. (And cry I do... lots and lots. I am just now starting to wear contacts again as before my eyes hurt too much)

"In every way we're troubled but not crushed, frustrated but not in despair... We know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus will also raise us with Jesus and present us to God together with you... That's why we are not discouraged. No, ...This light, temporary nature of our suffering is producing for us an everlasting, weight of glory, far beyond any comparison, Because we do not look for things that can be seen but for things that cannot be seen. For things that can be seen are temporary, but things that cannot be seen are eternal."

This is terribly morbid, but I wish someone would have told me to be prepared with supplies when I got pregnant. I had nothing on hand. After all, you would use the stuff after the baby is born. It's all so terrifying, quick, and painful.

I have named her "Amara". It's Greek for "unfading, eternal".

Some things I have learned through this:

1. Never, ever, ever, ever ask "How are you?" Unless maybe you are set down face to face with the person, 5 hours of time, and a box of Tissues.
2. Always call. My closest and dearest friends were on the phone that day. Most said not a word, they just sat on the phone and cried with me. A few just called to say they cared and then hung up. That's it. There are no words necessary, just "I love you, and I am here" is more then enough to say. If the hurting do not want to talk, they can always not answer. Even the caller ID showing the phone number is saying volumes.
3. Food is the language of the soul. I never knew why we have the tradition of sending meals, doing laundry, etc. when someone looses a loved one. I always thought, "well, they're not sick? why can't they cook?" For one thing, when your heart hurts the last thing you want to do is cook, clean, or do the laundry. However, little ones and your body still need to eat. WOW! Someone bringing supper made us feel so loved and protected like I could not have imagined.
4. Flowers, cards, notes... after a miscarriage that is a pro-life statement. If a child had lived and then died of course I would send something. After a miscarriage the simple act of sending flowers or a card is saying "I believe in life at conception. This was a life, and you have lost"
5. I love email, but there is something about a physical card in the mail that I never knew before. It's something to hold and put in a momento box at the end of the day. (or month, or year) It's a physical piece to pull out and weep over when you need a time to cry.

Thank you, thank you, thank you for all your notes, flowers, cards, phone calls, e-mails, prayers. It meant so much.