Double posting from my other blog

So I have been thinking a lot about plans. My plans, Andrew's plans, God's plans, people's plans; you know that "next step" to take. Most people would agree that the best plan is to turn 16 get a car and a job, then graduate high school at 18, go to college and graduate in 4-6 years, get married in your mid-twenties, get a job with said college degree, buy a house, have 2.5 babies, settle down, work until you are in your 60's and then retire.

Well, our life isn't going exactly according to the worlds "plan" of what we should and shouldn't be doing. I have never been one to follow the crowd, never one to fall inline with the plan laid out for us kids.

In elementary school I wore weird clothes. I can even remember I had this one outfit that was silver metallic bell bottomed pants that I would pair with a turquoise glitteriffic sweatshirt. Yea, I was that kid. The kid that bought space books for the quiet kid in class because she knew his family didn't have money for the book fair. Actually, my mom bought the books for him when I told her about him. That was a stepping stone to finding who I was; my mom was guiding me to a life of compassion. I wanted to help people, be the support they needed. That year my mom bought these little name cards that hung on the back of our bathroom door. My brother and I each had a robe that hung there and above our robe the card was there with our name and the meaning of our name. She also had a card with the bible verse John 3:16 on it: "for God so loved the world that he sent his one and only son so whoever shall believe in him shall not perish but have everlasting life." Those cards hung on our door and every time I would brush my teeth, take a shower, go pee, whatever! I would stare at those cards and read them over and over. I would say, "Katlyn means pure" and then read John 3:16. That is how I memorized my first bible verse.

So what if it was unconventional and I was "odd" I really didn't mind. Middle school was tougher. I had love from Jesus bursting at the seams but was really shy about it. I would quietly tell my friends about Jesus and how much he loves us. Once again I became that kid. Seventh grade was the year I decided what I wanted to do with my life. When I told my parents what I wanted to be their answer was, "no." That was it. I didn't want to be a doctor or a nurse, not a teacher or a astronaut, neither a dancer or mom, not even an artist or musician. I wanted to be a missionary. I HAD to go to Ukraine.

Ukraine was my first plan. I watched a short presentation on the needs of Ukraine in seventh grade be believed I just had to go there. The next year I fell in love with Uganda in the same way. Seeing the little brown faces on the computer screen seemed to just call to me. I felt like I HAD to go there. Still, of course, my parents said no. Freshman year of high school I felt that Thailand was where I was meant to be. I had Ukraine, Uganda, and Thailand information all over my binders. I would pray for the countries everyday and pour of information I could find on the Internet. My heart grew again the following year and it opened up to Hungary, Ethiopia, and Kenya. That sophomore year I had a giant map behind my bedroom door and each of those countries (Ukraine, Uganda, Thailand, Hungary, Ethiopia, and Kenya) all colored and labeled. On the top of the map I wrote the bible verse John 3:16: "for God so love the world that he sent his one and only son so whoever shall believe in him shall not perish but have everlasting life."

During this time you could call me dogmatic. I was all about the rules of the bible. I didn't curse, didn't date, didn't drink, didn't dress provocatively, didn't disobey my parents (much), I was all about the RULES. Who could memorize the most scripture, who knew the most information about the bible. It was all about how many rules could I keep perfect. In all honesty I thought I was doing a good thing but part of me took it too far. I started to feel pity for those that couldn't follow the rules. I didn't think they were hard so why couldn't they do it too? My compassion for those that sinned was lacking. I had compassion for the children of the countries I prayed for but I didn't have the Jesus-like compassion I should have for all people.

I lived that way for a long time and then I started to stumble. I felt like I had to be perfect or something bad would happen. I became depressed and this notion of "being perfect" was my downfall. I secretly struggled with this for years. It made me so depressed I felt like God didn't want me anymore; I mean what worth did I have when I couldn't even go to a third world country to live poor like Jesus did and feed the hungry? My relationship with God was dwindling. I held fast to the rules and clung to the idea that God would like me if I was almost perfect.

As years past, friends came and gone, relationships came and went, boys just went, I started to realize that I didn't pay much attention to the verse that came after John 3:16... John 3:17 is, "For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him." I realized that Jesus did not condemn us, not you or me. He came to rescue us! My need to be perfect was pointless because I could not save myself. I needed him to save me. I know I became a believer at a young age but this is when my relationship with Christ became ALIVE. Less about rules and more about love. That is my whole focus now. Jesus said the two most important commandments are to love your God with all your heart and to love others as you love yourself. Those are my new "rules" to live by. Everything else can wait.

So what does this have to do with "The Plan." Well, once again Andrew and I went against the grain. We didn't follow the rules we were supposed to. I graduated high school and went to college but then I dropped out. Then we got married and moved into an apartment; we made little money but went with it. We knew it was from God because of this sense of peace we had. I eventually went back to school and Andrew stuck it out the whole time. We got pregnant! A new chance at following the plan the way we should... instead God took our little one Home and we were left lost. This was NOT part of the plan. So we tried again, this time God took our little twins Home. What the heck was God doing to THE PLAN?! Didn't he get that this is not the way life was supposed to work? We then realized that the plan is pointless. Who cares about the rules, we never really fit into the box anyways.

Now that Jonah is on the way we fell back into the same idea of, "okay, so what is our next step?" To buy a house of course. Everyone asks us if we have a nursery ready or have we bought a house yet. Nope. At first I felt bad about it. Buying a house is what you are supposed to do when you have a baby, right?

All well, we aren't following the rules again. I don't think God is calling us to buy a house right now. If I was being totally honest with myself I would say I don't even want to buy a house at all. I want to live in our bedroom apartment stuffed with books and car parts. I want Jonah to share a room with us. I want to save all the money we make from Andrews new job because we want to adopt. This is the one time in our lives when it would be okay to stay where we are. Our apartment is affordable and in a nice neighborhood. It is close to a family who we spend time with and minister too. Sure it has its issues like a leaky air conditioner and our garbage disposal doesn't work but then I remember Africa. I remember all the countries I wanted to go to because I felt like I HAD to go. While pouting, grinding my feet into the ground, throwing fits, arguing with God, I have come to terms that my place is probably not being in a 3rd world country. However, that doesn't mean I give up my dream to be a missionary. I am a missionary right here, on the home front. Not the conventional sort of missionary but I learned I can minister to the ones right here. The kids I see on a daily basis, the new mom struggling to hold her head above water, the pregnant scared teenager, the rebellious student with no dad at home. Right here is where I am called to be. Forget the worlds plan for us; I want God's plan for us. I can't think of a better place to be than exactly where He wants us to be.

Terrible again.

I am terrible about blogging... Our hands have been pretty full since my last post. We moved into a house pretty far out of the city. We are now about an hour away from church and at minimum thirty minutes from family and friends. I really love it out here though and I think Jonah does too. He is an amazing eleven month old. So curious and afraid of nothing. He is fully walking and daring to push the limits of climbing on things. As I type this he has flipped his music table over and decided to ride it like a horse. We spent the day reading books, coloring pictures and dancing to music. I cannot imagine my life any different.

Andrew is teaching 8th grade English this year and I am still a SAHM and student. Even crunchier by the day we have fun living our healthy hippie lifestyle. I will do future posts about how being parents have changed us to a more natural way of living. Loving how God provides so many things by his creation alone. We cloth diaper, use home made cleaners, have changed the way we  eat and now eat organic, we don't follow the conventional vax schedule, baby wear, we coslept until Jonah was six months, no CIO, little things like that. Just embracing the natural way.

My heart has been so soft to the ideas of the future. Where exactly does God want us? I can't say. Sometimes we talk about moving to another country. I have middle of the night dreams of owning a little bookstore. More kids seem to be in the plans but nothing at the moment. We are very content where God has us. Although if you know us at all you will know that being content for long is never our plan. We love to change, move, and live out of the norm. So who knows what is in store for our future.

REVERSE

I started a new blog trying to find a new start. I wanted a place that was new and fresh, a starting over point. I have a few piddly blogs at the new site but I couldn't connect with it the way that I can this blog. I was trying to make something new when it wasn't new. So I call a REVERSE moment. I want to embrace the old and add the new instead of only accepting the new. I guess I am saying that I am bringing this blog back, resurrecting it from the grave so to speak.

My life is completely different than January 2012 when I started the blog. I have found a sense of peace that I didn't have then. January 2012 I found out I was pregnant with our fourth child, thinking I would lose that child too I started a new blog in hopes it would be the new beginning I needed to have excitement about something I was so terrified about. The pregnancy was complicated due to me being high risk until 24 weeks from having two miscarriages, losing three babies. I will post the blog I made about that pregnancy on this site later.

Anyways, I was induced with our fourth child and he was born September 13, 2012 at 39 weeks. Jonah weighed 7lbs 12oz and was 19.5in long, our short pudgy guy! Being a mother is amazing. It has changed me in ways I cannot even describe. Being a mother to babies in heaven is a life long journey of growth but being a mother to a child on earth is something that heals. Not everyone is as blessed as I am with the opportunity to mother a child on earth, I see that and recognize that I am blessed beyond words. Jonah is amazing. I am in awe of what a gift God has blessed us with.

My husband and I are stronger than ever because of this little creature we helped bring into this world. I can see all God's glory in creation by seeing his little face. He is now five months old and such a little character. I wouldn't trade a single moment in our journey because I see the reason for it. If any of our itty-bitties were here, Jonah would not be. Jonah is ours to keep and treasure; God has loaned him to us and we are forever grateful for this opportunity. 

Jonah at one day old

Jonah at four and a half months

I have so much to share with this blog again. There are 421,146,792,635 ideas bouncing around in my head and I think this will be my outlet to do it all again. To share, to love, to pray, to hope, to teach, to show, to live out the life that God has blessed me with. A little more scarred, a little more weathered, a little older, a little tired, a lot more in AWE of the creator of the universe, I am back and back to stay.

New Year, New Start, New Blog

So I haven't posted in quite a few weeks, nearly a month. I have spent much time contemplating life. Today is the two month rememberance date for Brielle and Maia. 2011 was full of heartbreak and pain. It was a year I felt like I would never make it through. With all the tears shed I felt like I would never pull myself out of my dispair. Just thinking of the year 2011 makes me want to cry. 2012 is here so I have decided to close the door to 2011 and open up a new door. 2012 is God's year and he is going to do mighty things this year. My babies area always remembered and their lives will always be celebrated. They are my children no matter where they reside.

Instead of blogging about mostly heartache I have chosen to start a new blog all about God's Glory. It was a hard decision to no longer blog here but it is the right decision. God didn't intend for me to live in permanent pain. I will miss this log and leave it as a memorial of where we have come from and how far we have grown. I named my new blog Basking in God's Glory because that is exactly what we intend to do. Our babies are spending eternity basking in His glory in heaven so we are choosing to bask in His glory here until our good God brings us home to be together.

Here is my new blog: Basking in God's Glory 

We hope to see you visiting our new blog. It is still a little rough and in major need of design time but it is our new start. :)

Love,
The Mr. and Mrs. aka Andrew and Katlyn

Strong

"A strong person is the one who knows how to be quiet,
shed a tear for a moment, and then picks up their sword to fight again."

Sometimes things in life crush us so bad we feel lost and alone but we need to remember that we are not alone. When we are weak He is strong. From the inside out he can make us whole. When our clay cracks and the comfortable murky liquid seeps out it hurts. We want to cling to that muddy water but God has so much more in store for us than murky muddy waters. The emptying process can be painful and scary but when you start to be filled again the pain was worth it. When there is nothing left of us and we are empty it is the prime time when He can pour right into us. He will heal our cracks with His own tears because that is how much He loves us. He created us to be more than cracked vessels holding muddy waters.

With growth there is pain; if there is no pain their is no growth. God has been working a great deal in my life lately. He has been showing me how strong He has made me. In the moments when I think there is nothing left I can hear Him whispering, "Katlyn, my daughter, keep going. I love you, I am here." Those whispers can be hard to hear sometimes but I do hear them. It is those moments that remind me what I was made to me.

Deuteronomy 31:6 says, "Be strong and courageous. Do not dear or be in dread of them, for it is the LORD your God who goes with you. He will not leave or forsake you." So even in the hardest times, the times of the battle in the middle of the lowest and darkest valley, He will not leave me. I am not lost and I am not alone because He is my lamp upon my feet.

I am the daughter of the highest King. The King of Kings and Lord of Lords is my father. There is no one that can snatch me from His hand. No one that can snatch my children from His hand either. We are His children for all of eternity. I just remind myself of that and remember that it is all for His glory and one day I will be reunited with my King and with my children.

That moment will make all of this pain worth it. That day will be so sweet, I can almost taste heaven when I close my eyes and picture my savior. I can picture my children being together with all of us as one big family. I don't picture my children as babies but as adults. Young, healthy adults in their prime. All of us around the same age and all of us family. Running into the arms of my Jesus is a day I cannot wait for.

I try to focus on the story of Hannah, "But to Hannah he gave a double portion, because he loved her, though the LORD had closed her womb …They rose early in the morning and worshiped before the LORD; then they went back to their house at Ramah. And Elkanah knew Hannah his wife, and the LORD remembered her. And in due time Hannah conceived and bore a son, and she called his name Samuel, for she said, “I have asked for him from the LORD.” (Samuel 1:5,19-20) Even though Hannah couldn't bear child because it was not time, God loved her. This was His plan for her for the time being but later He gave her a son. "In due time," which means in God's time, He remembered her prayer for a son and He answered her prayer.

I pray that one day God will let me conceive a baby and give birth to a child. I pray very had that one day God will show me my child who is across the ocean from me. and then another, and another. God is a faithful God and does not forget about my prayers and my dreams. I just have to wait for God's time, "in due time."

Matthew 21:21  And Jesus answered them,  “Truly, I say to you, if you have faith and do not doubt, you will not only do what has been done to the fig tree, but even if you say to this mountain, ‘Be taken up and thrown into the sea,’ it will happen."

Less and more

If you decided to come over hangout with me on a December afternoon there wouldn't be much to it.
There isn't much to me anymore. I am far more simplistic than I used to be and yet, much more complicated. I think I am softer than I have ever been but stronger too. I would make you coffee or tea while we sit and talk.

I may apologize for the lack of Christmas decorations. The missing glittering Christmas tree lets me pretend its not December. It lets me pretend that I wouldn't be due with little man any day. Pretend that his due date is less than three weeks away. I would tell you that we hung up stockings at my parents house and decked their tree out in gold and crimson.

I would avoid the questions like, "how are you?" because I have no idea how to answer them. I would tell you that I am doing better but that might not be true. I would tell you that time heals all wounds, but in reality I have to force those syllables out of my mouth.

I may hold my mug filled with tea to tight as I stare at the black framed box sitting next to our idiot tube. If your eyes happened to glance that way you would see in the black box with a glass front is a baby onsie with a light blue knit baby blanket. A little wood lion, a butterfly and magenta colored flower sit on top of that blue blanket. Their names written on the wood.

I would try to not make you uncomfortable but I can guaruntee that at least once I will say something you don't know how to answer. That is okay too. It is okay to avoid my icky words and just sip on the warm liquid in your mug.

I would ask you how you are doing and if there was anything I could pray about for you. I may ask you how your family is doing, the husband, the kids. If your grandpa was doing better or if your uncle found a job. Maybe what your Christmas plans were. Just talking is nice.

I would tell you that I am so grateful for my husband and that would bring a smile to my lips. Sipping and smiling. You would already know how much he means to me. These past two years have been the hardest two years of my life but I wouldn't trade the time for anything in the world.

I may bring up adoption and my longing to have a house full of silly face and noise. I would tell you for my longing of a normal life and a house and what it would be like if I never would have lost him or the twins. I would tell you I miss my twins. We should have been finding out the sex the week of Christmas, did I already said that? That I want my babies back, I want a baby now. Complicated things.

I might make you uncomfortable again and mention my friend who just had a still born baby girl. I would talk about mourning for her and her husband. How they were the most amazing parents anyone could have ever asked for and for some reason God took their little princess home. How I don't understand how these things happen but they do. You may fumble around trying to find some words to help but you can still see the ache in my eyes.

I would tell you honestly that I know God has a plan for everything that happens in our life. That He works all things together for Good. It's hard to say but its true. Loss is temporary on earth because we have eternity in heaven. I would mention I am throwing a baby shower for one of the most wonderful women on earth this weekend. It makes me ache knowing we should have had a double shower but she is worth it.

I would tell you that the cold weather makes me happy. Its healing to be all bundled up in scarves and seeing family week after week. Some might complain of their annoying family members but I see how precious each one is and I want to love on them as long as possible. My family has been my life raft when I fall off the sanity boat.

Our drinks would be gone or gone cold and we would still just sit. Maybe in silence, maybe I would offer to watch a movie. Anything to just get the moments to pass by to ignore the ache. Its a new reality that I am forced to live and I hope you can understand. Less smiles, more ache. Less anger, more faith. Less regret, more hope. Less ugly, more love. Less and more.

cell phone picture of a winter sunrise

Happy Birthday

Dear Brielle and Maia -our little glory twins,

Happy one month birthday in heaven to you Brielle Grace.
Happy one month birthday in heaven to you Maia Hope.

Exactly one month ago you were born into mommy's hands at home. You were already in heaven but today is the birthday of your physical bodies were born on earth. I am so thankful for having both of you in our lives, we were blessed beyond belief for those nine weeks. I loved you, do love you and will always love you more than you will ever know. I know Jesus loves you so much more but I am the second one in line. Please know baby girls that we wanted you so much and would have done anything to selfishly keep you here with us. Praying God has a plan in all of this and we cannot wait to see you two and your brother again when we get to heaven.

We love you so much baby girls.
I miss you every single day.

Love,
Your mommy

Not for the Faint

“Miscarriages are labor, miscarriages are birth.
To consider them less dishonors the woman whose womb has held life, however briefly.”
–Kathryn Miller Ridiman

I am going to add a disclaimer here that the rest of this post will talk about sensitive subjects and blood. If you have a weak stomach or do not want to read about the raw and real events of a physical miscarriage I advise you not to read on.



This is extremely emotional for me to write about.
You have been warned.



I have been asked many times why I gave Brielle a birth date and a memorial date (Maia had already died and passed because she was much smaller than her sister, she never had a recorded heart beat). This is because she was truly born. Her little body was into my hands November 7th at 9:14pm and I will never forget it. This post is the story of what happened that day.

We had known since Friday that the miscarriage was inevitable. Friday was the day that we were told that our babies heart had stopped. Itty-bitty baby at nine weeks was gone and the spotting that had taken place before hand was when I had already lost Maia. I would not have seen Maia, tissue or anything yet because Maia was too small. The ultrasound confirmed that Twin B was already gone. Twin A however had no heartbeat but was still in the womb.

I still bled a good amount of blood for the next three days. Smallish dime and quarter sized clots around the clock but nothing horrible. The doctors told me that I would probably bleed for about two weeks but on a rare occasion it could take up to a month. I wanted the baby to pass as soon as possible because each time I saw blood it made me start to have a panic attack. That whole weekend I was nauseous and sick. I cramped but it wasn't anything worse than period cramps. The doctors offered me cytotec but I couldn't bring myself to take it. I wanted everything to happen as naturally as possible. This is why the bleeding wasn't much and no decent clots passed.

I went to visit my parents after work on Monday and have dinner with them. I didn't want to be alone because it scared me. I needed to be around people. After we ate dinner my dad wanted to pray with me. He prayed that I would heal quickly and that God would be with me during whatever was to come. I prayed too because I was exhausted from the cramping and bleeding. I was having dizzy spells and I was a mess.

On my drive home my cramps got worse but I didn't think anything of it because they came in waves all day long. I would have cramps for a while and then nothing for a while. Andrew was at home doing his homework so I said hi to him and told him I was in pain. I went to the restroom and the blood started streaming out. It freaked me out a bit. Turning on the shower I hopped in. Thinking that the warm water would ease the pain and relax my muscles because the cramping became more and more intense. I can say that it is one of the worst pains I have ever been through. It hurt so bad I was seeing dark spots in my vision and just cried and prayed sitting on the bottom of the bathtub. The shower helped a bit but I couldn't stand because I was so dizzy. I am not sure if I was dizzy from the loss of blood or the pain but probably both.

The cramps still came in closer waves and the pain got worse. I would cramp and then stop for a minute or two and then cramp again. The clots that were passing were at least quarter sized and scared me. I did ask Andrew to sit with me for a while but then I wanted to be alone. After he left I just prayed that it would be over quick and tried to push all the blood out. The moment I did that a very large clot about the size of half of my palm passed. You could see bits of tissue in it and the second yolk sac, the tinier one that Maia was attached too. I thought that this was it because I was told that there was only one baby. I set the tissue on a facial tissue on the side of the bathtub and just sat there in shock because the bottom of the tub was red and my hands were red because of all the blood. I was in shock but not panicked. I just started to wash all the blood off of me and the tub. I washed my hair and my face thinking that it would make me feel better. The cramps were still pretty bad but the bleeding had slowed a little. I thought it was over. As I was cleaning up I turned of the shower and wrapped myself in a towel. I honestly felt terrible that I got blood on our towels that I started to wash them in the sink. Not sure what was going through my head. All of a sudden the most painful cramp came and I doubled over on the floor thinking it was happening again. This large blob of blood passed and I freaked out about making a bigger mess so I caught it with my hands. The liquidity blood ran through my fingers got on the floor but the hard tissue stayed in my hand. You could clearly see the tiny placenta and the other body tissue. I was traumatized. That image will forever be burned into my memory holding that tissue with my hands covered in blood. I laid that tissue with the other tiny tissue I had and just stared at it. I felt wrecked from the inside out with the pain and the emotion of knowing it was now truly over. That was it, the end, good by little baby. I cleaned up again and just left the baby tissue there.

I had no idea what to do. The logical side of me said to just flush it like everyone else does but my heart wouldn't let me do it. I started crying again. I told Andrew I had passed he tissue and he wanted to see it. I told him no. I was embarrassed by the blood and embarrassed that I wasn't able to just flush it down the toilet. He said I should put it in my wedding ring box because it was the perfect size to hold it until we figured out what to do with it. I feel terrible calling the tissue an it but my baby was already in heaven. It was just her physical tissue that was left, not her. I called my mom that night because I wanted her advice. I cried to her on the phone and she said I shouldn't flush it because of my heart. I should bury it somewhere. I was so emotional I didn't want to seem like a crazy woman but I felt insane. I took a picture of the little white box sitting with some roses a friend sent us and in front of the candles on our coffee table. I wanted something to remember her by. She was far to little for anyone to bury her but I wanted to always remember. Insanity is always a flaw of mine.

I haven't posted any pictures of that little box because it is so sensitive and personal to me. I was worried what someone would say. I was in such a vulnerable place and still in physical pain that I didn't want anyone to see what my crazy side had done, putting her in the little coffin like box. The crazy side that cried and stuffed a pillow under my shirt to see what I would look like if Riley was still alive. The crazy side that named my babies even though they were so small no one cares about them. The crazy side that has a memory box with all my pregnancy tests in them. It may be my crazy side but having that little crazy side keeps me sane during the day. Most people think I am handling this so well and saying that I am strong but that strength only comes after my crazy moments. God gave me those crazy moments so I can just feel whatever needs to be felt and then hide that crazy side to live in the real world. It feels like there is two of me. The crazy me that never wants to come out of her bedroom and just sleep her life away, cry and scream and be angry because my babies were dead. Then the normal me that is still excited about life and knows I am very blessed and I wanted to live a full life.

Here is my crazy moment for the day. I am posting a picture of her little white box...

Big News

As a mother I take comfort in looking at the old ultrasounds. We have one framed next to our TV of the baby we just lost. I always thought something looked different in the earlier ultrasounds than the newer ones but I could only guess what it was. Neither Andrew or I was good at reading ultrasounds but I always thought something was different. I thought I saw two sacs. Maybe it was just a bad picture or something I told myself. I haven't been at peace with it though and so I called my doctor. I just wanted answers about my baby.

Well after two hours of fighting to get someone to talk to I ended up talking to a triage nurse who, of course, said she couldn't read ultrasounds. I was upset because no one could answer my question. I was going to ask my doctor on Wednesday at our last followup appointment but I was too distraught when she started talking about tests we had options of doing to find out why we have miscarried two pregnanies.

We had a district wide health office meeting yesterday and I decided to ask one of the nurses there that I knew had been a L&D nurse for about 15 years. I hoped that of al people she would be the one to help me read an ultrasound... well, as soon as she saw the first picture she said, "That is two sacs, it would have been twins." Immediatly a huge sense of peace rushed over me. That was the information I was missing to be at peace with everything. I honestly felt like Christmas had come early. I felt at peace with everything that had happened and it was like the last puzzle piece slipped into place. With all the wondering and questions I had I never felt at peace with what happened and now knowing that there were TWINS, my heart knew that God was still blessing me even in valley.

So we are proud to say that we had twins!  I had her mark the pictures for me and she said Baby B is always smaller than Baby A. Once you see this ultrasound marked you can clearly see that there were two babies (momma knows).

Andrew and I talked about names but because I picked Brielle's name I wanted him to name our surprise twin. We knew that they were identical twins because they were in the same sac so we needed another girl name. I fell asleep while he searched all night for the perfect name for our surprise twin.

We are proud to introduce Brielle's twin:

Maia Hope Hudgins

Maia is Hebrew and it means "close to God" and she gave her momma hope in the darkest of times. She is a little light of joy that we needed to know that God is still near us. She will share a '"birthday" (November 7th, 2011) and memorial day with her twin, which is November 4th, 2011.

God is good. Even in the hardest of times when we rely on Him he will continue to bless us. He is the Alpha and Omega, the begining and the end. He was there at conception and we saw His face when we saw those two pink lines and we need to see his face even when those babies returned to heaven. Heaven is even more sweeter with our twins there.

Tough Stuff

Updated: 12/05/11

A few years ago I thought I wanted to be a CNA (certified nursing assistant). I took the courses I needed and did my hours in an assisted living facility. I really loved it there and came to adore many of the people. This isn't about all the stories I have to tell about that place -which I have many- but of one lady there. One lady that confused my whole world. I wish I could remember her name but I can't. I can picture her face though. Curly hair and a funny demanding voice. That isn't what made her unique. What made her special was that she carried around a baby doll.

Yes, she was probably in her 60's or 70's and carried around a little doll. She said that this was her little boy and truly believed it. Some of the CNA's and nurses played along while others made fun of her for it and a few just ignored it all together. Some even decided that it was unhealthy and wanted to take the doll away. This lady had clothes for the baby doll and wore him in a carrier. She refused to do anything unless her baby was in the room with her. Even when she showered she had to have him right outside the shower to know that he was safe.

Never quite understanding where she came from I am sad to say I ignored it. I thought she was strange and didn't understand. I adored this lady and loved talking to her but I didn't understand why she would want to pretend this doll was her son. One nurse was especially kind to her and helped her bathe her baby in the sink. I watched both ladies gently wash the babies head and put the tiny clothes back on him. Amazed by how kind the nurse was to the lady everyone thought was crazy I asked her why she helped her. She told me that many years ago in life the lady's baby boy had died and when she had the beginning stages of Alzheimer's she forgot that the baby had died and kept asking for him. She would cry because she thought someone took her son. I believe it was her grown daughter that gave her this baby doll so she would stop crying and sleep through the night. The lady grew to love this baby like it really was her son so she kept him. It soothed her and mended her heart. It was that baby doll that helped her live.

Strange thing is I never truly understood why she could think the baby doll was real. Why she would want to live a "lie" and why would her family be okay with it. After losing Riley in May and the twins my arms truly ache wanting to hold a baby. Just any baby to hold and rock them for a moment to pretent that my babies are safe in my arms. To close my eyes and pretend for a moment that my heart isn't broken and life didn't turn out this way. I know that they are safe in the arms of Jesus but that doesn't heal my broken heart.

I may get some flack for this but I can understand why she wanted and needed the baby doll. In a moment of frustration and sadness a few nights ago I stuffed a pillow under my pajama shirt just to see what I would look like right now if I was still pregnant with Riley. I broke down in tears feeling crazy and missing something that never was. Half of me is embarassed to tell something so personal and the other half just wants to be honest with people. I don't allow myself to have these "crazy moments" often but they do happen. The heart ache of not having your baby in your arms is something I wouldn't wish on anyone. If pretending is what kept her going in her old age then I don't see a problem with it.

People look at me like I am crazy because I named my "miscarriages." I probably get made fun of like the lady with the baby doll. There are people who support me and people that make fun of me and mostly people that ignore me. That is okay with me. Naming my babies, yes they were real living itty-bitty babies, is what has helped me heal. When I can refer to them by name it helps my heart a little bit. It is the moment of confirmation that my babies were real. When months and years go by and people forget that they were ever here, I will always remember. I will always remember my first three babies, no matter how little they were. If you ever remember my babies just let me know. I promise that hearing their name will not make me sad, it will make me feel better because it is terribly hard to be a mother when you have no baby in your arms.

How can the same sound bring so much joy and so much pain, to the same heart,

in the same breathe?

A newborn’s cry. A toddler’s laugh. A mother’s scold.

Empty arms ache at the sound

Joy for you, with you

Pain for me, hope deferred, desire denied

 

The empty arms of a barren womb

Empty arms that laid Baby in a grave

Empty arms of life lost before it began...

Empty arms of choiceless singleness

 

You grumble about the kids you’ve got

I weep inside for the child I’ve lost

I distance myself, from you, from hurt

Hating myself, wishing I could give more

Plastered fake smile pains face and heart

I keep silent, believing you wouldn’t understand

The pain, the joy, the desire, the grief

 

Am I the only one that struggles this way?

Does anyone know the volatile emotions I hide?

Will the grief, the longing, the pain ever end?

Where can I find healing, wholeness, hope?

 

There at the cross of Jesus Christ

I see arms stretched out, open wide

Empty arms

Empty arms like mine

 

Empty arms offering comfort in grief

Empty arms providing forgiveness for sin

Empty arms bringing healing and wholeness

Empty arms with power to unlock the womb

Empty arms giving love for loneliness, hope, joy, peace

Empty arms exchanging death for life

 

Christ’s empty arms are open to you

To fill your empty arms.

--unknown