November

Before last year November always felt like a cozy month set aside for pumpkin pie lattes, birthdays, Thanksgiving, and the beginning of sweaters and wool socks season.

Then last year happened. 

November was a month to survive. Survival was really my only aspiration for November and December last year. Crying myself to sleep night after night. Longing to wake up the next day to find it was all just a nightmare. Then I did wake up,... and reality was still real. Something to merely survive. And I achieved survival. Many days I didn't FEEL alive. But life and faith moved me forward despite how I felt; and brought us through Jude's life and death and into a new year.

This year was something different entirely. I didn't really know what to expect of this month full of painful memories. I've mostly just gritted my teeth, put my head down and kept moving through each day; pushing myself to stay busy. For the most part it hasn't been too bad. I often catch myself wondering if I'm grieving "enough" at this point. I know there is no right or wrong when it comes to dealing with loss. I'm choosing to place my hope in Christ's redemption on the situation and trust that He'll make clear if I need to slow down.

So, that's November.

Here comes December. 

New

By this time in my pregnancy with Jude we had his diagnosis and were weighing all the terrible options. Overwhelmed to the breaking point with so much information,... and so little.

We'd had ultrasounds by techs, doctors, and then doctors with more initials.

We'd had an amniocentesis. And gotten a phone call with results that surprised even our specialists.

We'd had all the joy of pregnancy sucked out of us, and were left feeling like dry bones. Still carrying Jude physically, but burying him emotionally. Preparing to birth and bury him physically. Not knowing when he would come, but knowing he couldn't stay. Aching, and hurting as we were forced to place his tiny life and soul completely into his creator's hands. Forced to surrender all the hopes and dreams we'd had for him. Forced to give in to God's painful plan for him.

And even as I write this I'm feeling his brother roll about within me. Kicking here, punching there. Feeling him in ways I never felt Jude. We were told we may never have this. That Jude may have been our only chance. Praise God He had a different plan.

Things could be so different right now.

I catch myself often thinking about how different they would be if Jude were here. It would have been completely possible to have both of them. To be mothering a little one, while carrying his brother. I'll always wonder.

But I also wonder what it would be like if we hadn't been blessed so quickly with Peter. Or if I had experienced even one of the potential complications last time that could have robbed me of the ability to carry another. And I thank God.

So often I think more about the "what if he were still here?" instead of the "what if God hadn't chosen to bless us in a hundred other ways this year?"

When I focus on the blessings, it all feels new. I feel vulnerable; sometimes scared, but full of joy. Peter is already developed far beyond the point that Jude ever reached. Each new sensation; Every little ache; Every time a foot or hand finds a new place to land; Every time I feel the skin on my tummy stretching; Every time the sciatica shoots down my back; I want to have a heart of thankfulness. 

These things are new. They mean life and health. They mean opportunities to rejoice in the God that created both of my sons; and is providing me with the blessed opportunity to experience this one more. Each day is more beautiful than the last. Each day is new.

These next few months will be a season of remembering. Re-grieving. 

But also of rejoicing. Because of God's protection, provision, healing, and hope.

Lamentations 3:22-25

I remember my affliction and my wandering,

    the bitterness and the gall.

I well remember them,

    and my soul is downcast within me.

 

Yet this I call to mind

    and therefore I have hope:

Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,

    for his compassions never fail.

They are new every morning;

    great is your faithfulness.

 

I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion;

    therefore I will wait for him.”

The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him,

    to the one who seeks him;