• Lala comes up and looks at a page I colored in her coloring book and says, “Wow! That looks great, mommy! “. Before I can thank her, she says, ” but in a minute, I’m gonna do it even better.”.   <–If she wasn’t 4, I’d say she’s being arrogant.  But, she IS 4 and she really was giving me a compliment.  She makes me laugh.
• Another quote from Lala (she asked her sister this when she was trying to figure out which activity would be next):  “Would you like to play toss the dog or chase the goat?”
• I’m thankful for the bills I have to pay (and being able to pay them)… it means I have running water, heat during cold months, and lights. I’m thankful for my girls’ smiles…but also for their tears…because it means they CAN cry. I’m thankful for crappy internet connections because even though it means that I may only get spotty conversation with my husband MAYBE once a week, it’s still more than if we were relying on mail alone. I’m thankful to have the opportunity to miss my husband – it means I have a great father for my children, a husband who I love enough to miss, and a marriage that has been through hell and back (commitment). I’m thankful for days like these, where staying in bed seems like the best option, because in the end it means I’ll be better for it and I’ll be able to love and relate to others more deeply.
• I’m so very thankful for the family and friends who have been helping me feed my little family during this time.
• If you ask how I’m doing “in passing” (like at Walmart or on Facebook or in front of a crowd), my answer is usually the standard “we’re okay,” “fine,” or “good.”  If you want to REALLY know how I’m doing or how my week was, ask me privately.
• I don’t really understand what people mean when they ask if I’ve talked to my husband.  Have I talked to him in 6 months?  Yes.  Or, do you mean to ask if we’ve talked today?  And, does “talk” include a text from facebook or do you mean “talk” as in a 2 hour skype session?  The answer to the last one is no… never.
• I am both terrified and excited at how soon this baby is coming.  On one hand, I feel awful physically from the contractions and I would really like to hold my baby.  On the other, it also means that our son will be here for longer before he gets to meet his father.  It also means I’ll have 3 children here without my husband.  I’m ALREADY exhausted…what am I supposed to do then?
• Being accused unfairly of something sucks.
• I am a big ball of emotions – overwhelmed by gratitude but also, sadness…all at once.  I thought it wasn’t possible to have both…but apparently it is when you’re pregnant.
• Speaking of “balls,” it looks like I’m hiding one under my shirt.
• I’m exhausted.  I think I’m coming down with something…again.  Then again, maybe I’m just pregnant and run-down.
• “Gentle Baby” by Young Living (essential oil) makes me feel like a cat around catnip.  Seriously.  I was never crazy about the smell til a few months ago, and now it’s like some drug.  I just want to pour it all over.  It’s really weird, actually.
• It feels really nice to be able to actually buy Christmas gifts for our kids this year.  Our budget is small compared to most, but we have one.  I’m excited not to have to worry about trying to make everything (as much as I love creating, I just have NO ENERGY…and after several years of doing it, I feel like I’m cheating them).
• I’m excited that most of the gifts (except maybe a couple of stocking stuffers) have been ordered and are on their way – AND were found through some great sales and free shipping!
• I’m a little bummed that I’ve had to miss out on all of these fun holiday parties so far… because of the contractions and how I’ve felt, we’ve mostly cleared our calendar (including the kids’ activities).  I’m glad for the rest but feeling a little stir-crazy sometimes too.
• I LOVE LOVE LOVE the pregnancy photographs my friend did for us so we could capture the “happier” part of pregnancy.  With the deployment, pregnancy complications, and other things… I didn’t want to remember just the bad that came.  I wanted to remember the good parts and I wanted to share it with my husband who missed most of it.  I’m so grateful to her and love her fabulous work.

When all is said and done, I can’t escape the wrestling of thoughts that keep screaming – “GETTING CLOSER!”  And, oh!  How it stings, and tears deep.  Mostly, because it’s true and it tears at this pretend happy, forced hopefulness I’ve been trying to construct around the fear I feel inside.  I don’t want to think about all of the things this time really means.  I don’t want to think about what’s coming ahead so very soon.  I.  Just.  Want.  To.  Be.  Happy.

I really do believe we have a choice to make the best out of circumstances.  But, sometimes… no matter how you shake things, they just suck.  And, to be honest – I don’t feel like I have the right to complain much because others have it worse.  And so, I try not to.  I know I will survive.  I know it’s not the end of the world and others are going through worse things and have gone before me doing the same, again and again.  So, I put on my brave face and just try to breathe.  In.  Out.  In.  Out.

Don’t mistake the brave face for “being alright with things” or “having it altogether,” though.  Because, right below the surface is a hot spring of tears, ready to burst forth if the carousel of thoughts is just turned on.

I always thought of myself as someone who could ask for what she needs, but turns out, I can’t.  Well, I can…sometimes.  But, for the most part, I feel like although it’s okay for anyone else, “needing” something would mean I’m weak.  I’ve also come to view “need” as this very basic thing.  I don’t “need” anything that I’ve not already been given (food on my table, clothes on our backs).  And while gifts of time/kindness/love (whatever form they may take) speak volumes to my heart, for me to ask for a “need” would be not only my admittance to weakness and failure before I’ve really even begun – but also, I do not feel as if I deserve it.  It’s hard for me to separate myself from this.

These times are trying, no doubt.  Fears creep in and loneliness ebbs at my thoughts.  Days feel longer now that my “shift” has doubled – yet, my patience and energy has not.  It’s the simple things that mean the most.  A lovely token to lift my spirits, a sweet gesture, time to rest, sweet company. –Things that mean so much and lift me, but in the same token, things I won’t ask for – and if you ask what you can do, I’ll draw a blank.  9 times out of 10, if you give me a way to give you a way out, I’ll go for it – not wanting to inconvenience anyone, regardless of how much they say it won’t.

So, that leaves just doing it.  Or, not.

But please, just don’t ask me…

Most of you know this already, but my name is Ashley and I’m a wife and a mom to 2 lovely little girls (3 1/2 and 1 1/2).  I’m a stay-at-home mom, but unfortunately that doesn’t mean I get to sit on my butt eating bon-bons.  When I’m not doing thankless (and mostly un-noticeable after my kids get through with it) housework, I’m homeschooling, tutoring students, baking cupcakes for birthdays and special occasions by special order, crafting, reading, painting, and freelance writing for publications.  And, blogging, apparently.

I’ve been married for 5 1/2 years and I would love to go back to school to finish up my bachelor’s in psychology.  Jesus Christ is my savior and I LOVE God.  I love people and I appreciate everyone who has been put in my life.

15 Things About Me:

I feel like a 15 year old EMO kid – except I’m on my own and my happily ever after turned out to be one of my worst nightmares.  So, I’m locking myself in my proverbial “room” and functioning on autopilot.

I’m trying to find “happy” but keep finding the dead-end detours, instead.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve accepted (and even marveled) that God has a plan for each of our lives, and like the back of a woven tapestry, we often don’t understand the full extent or the “big picture”  because all we see are a million little threads, each representing moments in our lives, woven throughout.  Over the past few years, my family and I have faced some very difficult situations – things that have tried us and brought us to our knees.  We’ve been so low where the only place we could look was UP.  My faith has been tried over and over again.  And, with each of those times, someone would say:  “Just give it to God.  This is part of His plan.”

At first, those words comforted me.  But, after some really heart-wrenching events I became furious, “His plan?  Well, maybe I don’t like His plan!  Maybe His plan is FOR me to go through (what seemed like) endless trials and to hurt…maybe I don’t WANT that!?!”

Have you ever felt that way?  – Like maybe Joel Osteen has gotten loud* a few too many times?  Okay, so maybe I’m the only one who though “Oh crap.” when our pastor shared a sermon one day about God never promising us great times if we followed Him – and, here I was just hoping for my drink to be spiked with what ever Joel Osteen was having.  Who really wants to hear that God has planned for you to lose your house, possibly your marriage, and maybe let’s throw in a baby too? – And, let’s not waste time, we’ll wad it up in the time frame of just a few years.

Yeh, suddenly that whole “God’s plan” thing just made me want to cry.  Rather than being a thought of comfort, it was more like a threat.  – Especially when nobody knew what to say…except “Give it to God.”

But, today I found an answer in a little devotional book.  Basically, it said:

God made each of us, our desires and passions included.  So, He knows us to our very core.  And, He has awesome things planned for us – not just His idea of awesome, but OUR idea of awesome.  And sure, we’re going to have to go through some REALLY rough things to get to those great and awesome things, but His plan for our lives aren’t CENTERED around those hard times.  His plan is centered around the GREAT THINGS He wants for us.  The bad stuff is just on the way, sometimes it’s what helps us get there and sometimes it’s to help shape us for what He’s prepared for us.

I’m not sure how what’s recently happened fits in exactly, and maybe I won’t ever know…but, it sure as heck is more comforting than before.

*”getting loud” means getting high with really good pot.  I don’t necessarily know this from experience.

STATUS UPDATES:

• lots of crying
• overwhelming sense of guilt over this miscarriage
• I feel like a crazy basket-case, swinging quickly from one emotion to another – despair to hope and back again
• mostly feel like sleeping
• having a rough time being around people
• this blogging is about the extent that I can talk about it for now
• still moments where I forget that I’m not pregnant and…that’s rough.  Definitely not my favorite.

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” — 2 Corinthians 12:9

I would be lying if I said there weren’t times that I caught myself gently rubbing my tummy, thinking about how far along I am (was), wondering what new had grown.  I’ve cried so many tears that I have a headache that doesn’t want to go away.  I dream about this pregnancy, about this baby.  And when I wake up, I have the slightest thread of hope : Maybe it’ll be like I read about, where the ultrasound tech missed the twins in a woman’s womb (and other stories as such).  And, maybe we did just mess up the numbers and approximates.  Maybe I just am so early.  And, this blood…other women have “periods” and go on to have healthy babies.  Maybe.  Maybe!

But, then I feel my insides twisting on itself and I know.  I know that after this much blood, there’s no way.  I know it’s just hope.  Irrational hope.

I cry when I read about or see death in a film.  I cry when I look at my girls or while looking at Facebook.  I cry every time I read each sweet email or text from a friend.  I even cry when I go to pencil something in my datebook – and I scrub hard at the little numbers I had penciled in that marked each passing week of my pregnancy.

Back and forth it goes, hope to sliver a calm to pure devastation.  At this point, I don’t even know which way is up…

And yet I know it’s improvement, because that sliver of calm is there, no matter how short it is.  It’s there.

A few moments ago, I received my latest hcg numbers (48 hours after the original one of 496): 201.  It’s basically a confirmation of everything I already felt.  My numbers are going down, the baby is no more.  It’s done.  It’s over, and yet it’s not.

For the next week or so (possibly two), I’ll continue to have blood drawn to watch and wait as my levels return to negatives.  The hope for this baby is gone, but I’m secretly relieved by the count.  In some cases, a woman’s hcg levels can rise before they fall even after the baby stops thriving.  I’m so sad for what I’ve lost, but to have had numbers rising to give a false hope and security would have been worse for me.  I’m glad for the waiting to know what’s going on to be over.

My emotions rip through me like a hurricane.  I’m devastated.  I’m worried – what does this mean for the future, will it happen again?  Will I never be able to think about this baby without crying?  Will I always feel a void, a shadow in our family portrait?  Will I ever stop grieving?  And, then…there’s a tiny ray of new hope, just beginning to glow.  It’s still faint, but I’m hoping that God will use this for some good – will I help someone else?  Will God use me to plant a seed of hope and love in a heart as tender as mine is right now?

Because the thought of this baby being taken for no reason at all is just too terrible for my crushed heart to grasp.

“Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.“ –  Proverbs 3:5,6