PDP

We’ve all heard PPE and PPP a lot lately during this pandemic, but I’m coining a new term called PDP which stands for “Pregnant During Pandemic.”  I assume by now you’ve connected the dots and know that I am currently PDP and while I’ve kept it a secret from most, I thought a good way to spread the news would be by chronicling just what it has been like to be PDP.

            Let’s back up to the beginning of this year:  Lillie was thriving, about to turn four, pees on her own, sometimes wipes her own butt, can get herself a glass of water, lets the dog out to pee, gets food and water for the dog, can somewhat buckle herself in the car seat, sleeps through the night, enjoys helping me with chores, and is in general pretty self-sufficient.  It makes perfect sense that Kyle and I would decide this is a great time to go all the way back to the starting line, not sleep EVER, wipe a butt multiple times daily, feed something on and off all day, purchase another crib, potentially purchase all new clothes, and add a human to the world that is entirely dependent on us.  Because, why not?

            So, because a miscarriage can really mess with your mind, I was against trying to conceive a child in January because the last life we conceived in that month ended in a miscarriage at around 13 weeks.  Kyle was “not getting any younger” so February it was.  I really wanted a November baby so I did the whole ovulation tests and stress thing and shocker, it didn’t take. February came and went and no pregnancy.  So, in March I decided to “be cool” (something that does not come natural to me and just let whatever should happen, happen).  I was so “cool” that when I was supposed to start my period and hadn’t, I chalked it up to the inconsistency of my cycle since Lillie was born. 

            Kyle was making himself a Bahama Mama and asked if I wanted one.  I drink maybe twice a year, it was my birthday weekend, the world was falling to pieces, so I thought, “why not?”  But, in order to be perfectly sure, I insisted I go get a pregnancy test first.  I picked one up, took the test, and was just chomping at the bit waiting to see the “Not Pregnant” appear so I could yell at Kyle, “Yes, make me a Bahama Mama!”  The three minutes passed and there it was, “Pregnant.”  I was so shocked.  And in a strange way, terrified. 

            Let’s get a feel for what the world looked like at this point. It was March 29^th, school had been shut down for the rest of the year, restaurants had closed, Kyle’s business had to shut down because in order to follow the public health order of how many people could be in the office at once it was costing more money to stay open than to close, people were asked to stay home and only go to the grocery store or medical appointments, and people were losing their minds on the internet.  Did I really want to bring a baby into all of this?

            I was a mess.  My mental state was all over the place.  Before finding out we were pregnant I had already thought, “maybe this is not the time and maybe our family is supposed to be three forever.”  I was ready to call it quits with the state of the world.  I was feeling all kinds of emotions about everything being shut down and how this virus was robbing me of special moments with Lillie:  Celebrating her first last day of school, her first birthday party with friends she had made in Rio Rancho, her first recital performance that I had been looking forward to so much, zoo trips just the three of us, and vacations just the three of us.  I immediately resented this pregnancy because soon I would have a little baby that would take much of my attention away from Lillie, which lead to feelings of guilt. 

            Having had a miscarriage before, I really thought that any time I got pregnant after I would have feelings of fear about a consecutive miscarriage but I was so surprised to feel something completely opposite.  I was having thoughts of, “I wish this pregnancy would fail,” which turned into thoughts of how terrible of a human being I must be to wish something like that when there are women out there that would kill to be in my position.  There are women out there who spend a fortune, inject themselves with hormones, get pricked and prodded, just to find out that they will never carry a child.  How could I be a Christian and hope for such a thing?

            I didn’t really want to talk about being pregnant with anyone.  I didn’t want to tell anyone.  I only told my parents to get them up to speed because they had plans to move to Rio Rancho and I knew if they knew I was pregnant that would probably make a difference as far as their planning went. I broke down in tears one night as I finally let Kyle in on all the terrible thoughts I was having and what a terrible person that must make me.  He let me in about thoughts he had been having and reassured me that my thoughts didn’t make me a terrible human, they just made me human.  He reminded me that I need to just feel what I feel in the moment and quit being so concerned about how what I am feeling is not “the right thing for the moment.”  

            That resounded with me so much because he was right.  I felt like I should be feeling excited, I should be feeling like talking about it with everyone, I should be wanting to plan what the nursery will be like. But the truth was, I felt so out of control in a world were my “normal” had been ripped out from under me, “experts” were coming from every which way to weigh in on this pandemic, and there was no end in sight.  How could this be happening?  I had not planned for this and if you know anything about me, it’s that I like to plan.  I joke that the saddest part of this shut down is that I have not been able to use my planner.    

            I confided in a friend who has had an almost scary similar journey as me:  Miscarriage with first, successful second pregnancy, reluctancy for a second child, pregnant with second child and wondering why in the world they made that decision.  She assured me that these feelings were perfectly okay and that she too struggled during her pregnancy and that I was not a terrible human being.  So, between Kyle and this friend, I was at least convinced I was not a terrible human being, but was also not convinced that I wanted this. 

            To add to matters, being PDP meant standard prenatal care would be different.  My first visit was scheduled for the end of April and I received a call in early April asking if I would be okay with a phone visit.  At this point, remember, everything felt SUPER out of my control so when I was asked this I wanted to throw my phone across the kitchen.  I asked the receptionist, “What is she going to do over the phone?!”  She timidly replied, “Well, she would ask you how your pregnancy is going and just check-in with you.”  I then replied with, “I could also call and ask a local grocer how my pregnancy is going and without any bloodwork, urine samples, or fetal heartrate doppler they would know about as much as I do.” 

I was so mad that this virus was now changing the way people were doing things and that I would likely have to pay for a phone call where a doctor would ask me how I was feeling, tell me what not to eat, drink, and what medicines not to take; things I knew or could look up in my app. And, I would get no more reassurance than a pregnancy test on if I was pregnant or not.  I calmed down after she said, “Well, we would still send you to do bloodwork, a urine test, and eventually refer you out for an ultrasound later.” 

Cut to my first “visit” with the doctor.  She did everything I thought and it was about a 4 minute phone call.  She told me to schedule an ultrasound at Pinon Perinatal and then my next prenatal visit would be in the office in about four weeks.  I called Pinon and got my appointment scheduled and at the end of the phone call the receptionist said, “Oh, and just so you know, you will need to wear a mask and you are not allowed to have a guest with you.”  Cue the tears.

If you remember my first pregnancy, Kyle and I showed up to my second prenatal visit around 13 weeks and they couldn’t find the heartbeat with the doppler ultrasound so they had me go into the room where they keep their heavy duty ultrasound machine and we watched a screen where we saw the baby but the heartbeat was no longer there.  So to tell me now, in the midst of the world being turned upside down, that I would not be able to have Kyle with me was enough to send me into full on rage.  Because, you see, something I have learned about myself is that when I am stressed or feel out of control, my reaction is anger. 

But, after texting someone well-versed in the law and realizing that this was not a fight I would win nor was it one I wanted to take on at the moment, I resigned to the fact that I would have to go alone and if something was wrong on the ultrasound, I could handle it because, well, I had no other choice.  My appointment was May 21^st so I had about a month to wait for that and a month to stew about not being able to have Kyle with me.  I went into the appointment, chip on my shoulder, determined to be in and out of there quickly.

Well, I knew something was off when the technician spent extra time looking at the back of the neck and then said, “The doctor will be in shortly to talk to you and then we will get you in with the genetic counselor.”  I said, “Excuse me?”  It’s super hard to hear people with their masks on but I was pretty sure I had heard her correctly and I had no idea why I needed to talk to a genetic counselor.  She hesitated and then said, “Uh, oh, they have you scheduled to talk to the genetic counselor today.”  I replied, still with the chip on my shoulder, “This is the first I’m hearing of it.”  She got the doctor in right away.

He began to explain to me that the nuchal translucency measurement was on the high-end, still normal, but in the 99^th percentile so he recommends talking with the genetic counselor about further testing we can do because the measurement could indicate a chromosomal abnormality.  At this point, I’m freaking out and wanted to yell at them, “THIS IS WHY YOU SHOULD BE ALLOWED TO HAVE YOUR PARTNER HERE” because after that point, I pretty much stopped listening to anything they were saying including anything the genetic counselor (via a zoom call) said. 

 I mostly remember the genetic counselor making me feel like I needed to make a decision that day on if I wanted to do any non-invasive or invasive testing and I replied through tears with, “I’m not going to make any decisions until I talk to my husband since you guys would not allow him to be with me.”  She then replied, “Ya, I know, it’s really tough” and I responded, “I mean it feels like a violation of my human rights and also, this is his baby too.”  She realized I didn’t need the sympathy and I wanted out of there so she called the doctor on site, relayed my frustrations, and told him he could go back in.

He comes in, summarizes what she had said.   He asked me if my husband had come with me and if he was out in the car waiting and I said, “No, he’s actually about to go in a meeting and all I want to do is leave this office and call him because I’m a little overwhelmed.  So, I just want to get out of here.”  He was very sweet and recognized that I was over it and said, “Certainly and have him call me if he has any questions.” 

I left, called Kyle, sobbed, he felt terrible that he couldn’t be there to have helped me through it, and we made a plan for how we would handle the next ultrasound that they wanted me to do in about 5 weeks.  We talked over our options on testing, he left it up to me, and I decided on doing a cell-free dna test that would tell me the likelihood of any chromosomal abnormalities because I felt like I would rest a little easier knowing something one way or the other.  I had the bloodwork done and a week later got the call that everything had come back fine and the chances of any chromosomal abnormalities was very low risk. 

At this point, things were kind of starting to open up a little more in town, I had a feeling like some normalcy would be resuming to our lives, and something started to shift in how I felt about being pregnant.  I was starting to be a little more excited about it.  I was feeling like maybe it would be safe to tell Lillie at this point and I was excited to see her reaction.  I was thinking maybe everything would be okay and it hit me:  I had been protecting myself.  My initial reaction to the pregnancy and feeling like I would not care if I miscarried was actually just me preparing myself for the worst and not setting my expectations to high.  Because, fun fact, another thing about me is when I have an expectation for how something again should go and it does not go that way, I have a hard time swallowing it. 

Because we did the cell free DNA test, we were able to know the gender sooner than you normally would and I was ready to embrace this party, invite over family, and find out all together.   We decided to still wait a little bit before telling Lillie but thought we should give her a couple days heads up before her finding out with all her family around.  We told her on the Wednesday before the scheduled Saturday reveal and her reaction could not have been any cuter.  She was so excited and then later told Kyle, “Daddy, you’re the best daddy because you gave me a brother or a sister.”  She was pumped for the baby and “the celebration” on Saturday.

Family came into town and Kyle had decided it would be fun to find out by playing cornhole.  Long story short, I knew ahead of the party what we were having because of something the genetic counselor said when she called with the results and then poor labeling on the powder ordered from Amazon confirmed it.  But, I played it cool and acted like I was none the wiser.  I filled up a balloon with the appropriate color, blew up some decoys with no powder, and had an intricate way of having Kyle think I didn’t know why balloon to use, get the right balloon, and set up the cornhole.

We are normally really great at cornhole, in fact, during cornhole the rest of the day I was undefeated; but, even with Kyle hitting it once, we could not get the balloon to pop and our agreement was each of us would get four tries and then we would let Lillie do it.  She was gunning for a sister (she prayed for one months ago) and Kyle was gunning for a boy (he prayed for a boy the same day).  She threw the bean bag, popped the balloon, and a cloud of blue appeared.  Kyle was pumped, I was still pretending to be somewhat surprised, and Lillie was sobbing.  You could not have scripted it better and her little face was so sad but we assured her that brothers are cool and that Kyle and I have brothers too that she thinks the world of.

So, here we are now, about 6 days fresh off of the 18 week anatomy ultrasound (Kyle was allowed in this time).  And the ultrasound did indeed confirm that we are having a boy. I have a lovely 3D picture of his penis because why wouldn’t I want that?  Everything looked fine as far as we can tell and we have another one scheduled in 7 weeks just to follow up.

Lillie is coming to terms with the fact that it’s a boy.  She cried again about a week after the reveal because she was saying that her new baby brother could use her old baby Winnie the Pooh towel and her sister could use the pink baby towel.  I asked, “What do you mean sister?” and she said, “Well, after I have a baby brother, I can have a baby sister.”  We had a talk about how she’s lucky she’s getting a sibling at all (haha) and even if mommy and daddy had another baby, we don’t get to chose because God gives us what he thinks we need.  But, we haven’t had any tears since and she and I are coming around to the idea of having a boy around.

            It’s been a whirlwind and a very weird time to be pregnant but I refocused my mindset to remembering that God has taken care of us up until now and He won’t stop taking care of us in the midst of all this change.  I am trusting in His plan, timing, and sovereignty. Whatever will be will be.

Nicole

When you realize your life is over.

"I'm sorry you're having a brother."

"It will be okay."

"But, I prayed for a sister."

 

Cute Little Profile

"I wanted a sister."

"Well, we will celebrate."

But, really, this is NOT necessary.

Content

Sometimes when I can't process things, I like to write.  Writing is what helps me make sense of my feelings and emotions.  Today is a very emotional day for me.  I knew it was coming and I knew it would be difficult, but when I woke up and the tears fell, I wasn't prepared for just how difficult it would be or how confusing it would be.

One year ago today, we got some devastating news.  We had woken up, got dressed in our gym clothes, and had rushed to the doctor's office for a routine prenatal appointment.  I was so excited that day because A.  Kyle was off for the morning and I would get to spend time with him and B. we were going to get to hear the baby's heartbeat again.  We got to the doctor, were taken back to a room, and the nurse began to use the fetal doppler to take a listen to our sweet baby's heartbeat.  When she couldn't find it, I began to be worried, but she assured us that sometimes it's tough to find it if the baby is moving around a lot and she thought she had heard movement.  She went to get a bedside ultrasound machine to see if she could find it that way.  When the image came up on the screen, Kyle said that the heart was not flickering like it was the first time we saw the baby.  This was when we were both certain that our baby had gone to be with Jesus.

I remember everything about that day.  The doctor came in to talk to us about our options and I was eerily calm.  We decided on having a D&C procedure the following day because I didn't think I would be able to handle having to wait on he/she to come on their own.  We left the doctor's office and I called my mom.  I was crying when I told her that I miscarried and eventually I had Kyle take over and talk to her.  She said she would pack up her stuff and be in Oklahoma by the end of the night.  Kyle called into work and said he would not be able to be there that day.

I decided to blog one last time on a blog I had created for the baby and to process my feelings.  At this point, I was strong.  I was determined to not let it bring me down.  I was sad, but in a state of denial about what my new reality really was.  We went on a walk and I remember telling Kyle that everything happens for a reason and that I trusted God knew what he was doing.  We went to lunch and we laughed about unrelated things.  We went to Barnes and Noble, did a little shopping on some gift cards we had, and I spoke with a woman in billing about how much the surgery would cost and how much we would need to put down the next day.  We had food delivered to us for dinner and the day was just like any other day.  Serious state of denial.

The next day, I had the surgery, went home to have lunch, and then slept.  That was when it all changed and the following days, weeks, and months were the hardest days, weeks, and months of my life.  I really did believe that God had a plan, that there was a reason He took the baby, but with a miscarriage comes many thoughts of doubt and also thoughts about what you might have done wrong as a mother.  It doesn't matter who says, "There's nothing you did wrong or could have done to avoid this; it's not your fault" or how they say it, those thoughts do not go away until you are ready for them to.  It's something that you as a mother have to come to terms with on your own time and it took me a lot of time to be okay with myself and realize that I did everything right.

Today, a year since our last appointment for Baby Gray, I had what could be my last appointment with Lillie James.  The most confusing part about today is that here I am waiting on Lillie James to arrive and also grieving the loss of my first baby.  It's a very confusing thing to feel grief and anticipation at the same time.  There are feelings of guilt that I should not be so sad about what I have lost when I am so close to gaining something so great.  I am so excited to see what Lillie James looks like and becomes, but am also so sad about not getting to ever know Baby Gray or what he/she would have looked like or would have become.  There is a sadness that I feel every once in a while, especially today, about not ever making it to the stage where he/she kicked and moved around.  It's just a weird day and an emotional day, but I know that it is part of the plan.

Everyone keeps asking, "How are you feeling; are you so ready for her to be here?" and I think my answer often shocks people when I say, "I'm good and I'm okay with her taking her time."  The doctor said, "I know it's a hard time when you are just eager for the baby to be here" and I told her, "actually, I'm good.  I know she will come when she is ready to come."  I am beyond excited to hold her, kiss her, love her, and see what her little face looks like but at the same time, just as every moment of her being outside of the womb is something I can't ever get back, so is this time of just me and her.  I am embracing the time I get with just her when we are in a room full of people and I'm staring at my belly watching her move or when I can't sleep at night and I have my hand on my belly feeling her move around.  She is always with me and I am always with her, but that won't be the case forever.  So as long as she wants it to just be the two of us, that's what I want too.  I think God knows how much I missed out on all those feelings with the first baby and that's part of why she is so content in there and I am so content out here.

I am so grateful that this pregnancy has been relatively easy and smooth.  I am grateful that these last weeks when I could be so miserable, I am not.  Jesus knows my needs, her needs, and He has taken those into account.  I have to rest assured knowing that her brother or sister is smiling down on us and will watch over us.  I have to remind myself that it's okay to be sad today.  It's okay to grieve for what we lost.  It's okay to miss my first baby even with this new blessing on the way.

Xoxo,

Nicole

A Time for Everything

It's been forever since I've blogged but time has just flown by.  Really, the last four or five months have just gone by in a flash and I'm over here like, "Wait, how am I already almost 36 weeks pregnant?!"  This is my second time being pregnant, but my first time I had barely gotten to the "safe zone" where it's okay to tell the masses before we found out that I miscarried.  So, getting this far in a pregnancy, I have learned a lot about myself and about people.  Pregnancy brings about a lot of unwanted things:  Swollen feet/ankles, leg cramps at night, thoughts of inadequacy, brain malfunction, unsolicited advice,  the weepies, comments that should be left unheard (just to name a few).  But, it also brings about a lot of wonderful things:  Smiles from strangers, a different kind of closeness with your husband, an appreciation for sleep, anticipation, and a surreal kind of bond with someone you've yet to even meet.

Everyone I talk to says, "The last month seems to drag on forever," but I have a very strong feeling that this will not be my truth.  I am so very excited to meet Lillie James, to see what she looks like, to hear her cry and laugh, to see her smile, and to cuddle her, but I am also realizing just how much my world is going to change and that can be very overwhelming at times.  I will be responsible for this tiny human.  Her every need will be met by me.  Maybe I'm crazy and maybe most pregnant women at my stage are just ready to have their babies, but if there is anything I have learned while pregnant it is that not one pregnancy is the same.  (And that's okay!)

I've been sick this week and so I've had a lot of time on my hands to just sit and think.  Yesterday, I was thinking about just how much Lillie is going to rock my world in about a month and how in about a month it will be a year since I found out that I lost our first baby due to a miscarriage.  I was thinking about how in the months that followed I had so many doubts about whether or not I would ever be a mom.  It was such a difficult time in my life and I truly could not see the light at the end of the tunnel until I got pregnant the second time.  So, of course, I began to feel guilty.  Guilty that I've come this far in my pregnancy with no real complications and yet there I was wishing I could turn back time just a little bit to have a little more time to prepare myself for what is about to happen.  Guilty that my first baby left us and I am not more appreciative of what I have now.

It goes without saying that while you are in the middle of a trial in life,  you can't really seem to see what good could come out of it.  That was true for me after I had my miscarriage.  What good could come from losing a baby?  Yesterday, in a moment of clarity, God spoke to me about this.  I began to wonder how our lives would be today had we not become pregnant last January.  Finding out we were pregnant lead to so many good things.  It ignited our desire to return back to New Mexico, closer to family.  This then lead to Kyle looking for a new job in New Mexico which lead to him getting his current job in Rio Rancho.  He comes home from work now and says things like, "I really like my job."  I did not hear that when we lived in Oklahoma.  He actually likes going to work and financially can provide more for our family now.  Had we not become pregnant when we did, would he have a job that is excited to go to and comes home happy from?  Would we be living in Rio Rancho so close to family that will get to love on our sweet baby?  We will never know, but it certainly changes my perspective on my miscarriage.  There is a reason for everything and a time for everything under the sun and while it still breaks my heart that I did not get to meet that sweet baby, I want to thank God for what he/she brought about.

As far as feeling unprepared, I still do, but God gave me some perspective on that yesterday as well.  A year ago, I was not prepared for hearing the deafening silence that was the absence of my baby's heartbeat.  A year ago, I was not prepared for the heartbreak that would last months and months.   A year ago, I was not prepared to feel inadequate, broken, and ashamed; but, He brought me through it just like He will bring me through these last few weeks of feeling unprepared and uneasy about the changes I will go through.

My goal in the next few weeks is to enjoy this time I have left before Lillie comes into the world.  I want to cherish every moment with Kyle.  I want to cherish every move Lillie makes inside my tummy because I am most certain I will miss it.  I want to be present in each day and be grateful for everything I have.  I want to cling to this last month and while I don't think it will be the case, I will not mind if it feels like time slows down.

Xoxo,

Nicole

Trust

Trust. Firm belief in the RELIABILITY, TRUTH, ABILITY, or STRENGTH of someone or something.  Trust is very difficult for me and I notice it when I come to a chapter in my life where I really, really have to trust God.  I am a planner.  I like to know what to expect.  I like to control certain situations.  This is why I make a giant packing list when I am going on a trip or why I made a list last night of everything I would need for a training this morning and marked it off twice as I made sure it was all there.  

Currently, literally right now, I am struggling with trusting that God will give me a family.  Before we starting trying to get pregnant I had a small part of me that said, "You know this might not happen as quickly as you'd like," and then after one month of trying we were pregnant.  After finding out about the pregnancy there was that small part of me that said, "You know it's possible you'll miscarry," and I did.  So now, there is a big part of me saying, "You know this isn't going to happen for you and even if it does, you'll miscarry again."  My thoughts are as good an indicator as any that I am not trusting God like I should  As much as I want to be positive and trust God, it's not the easiest thing for me.  Kyle, he never waivers.  He is steady.  I admire him for that and it encourages me to be more like that. 

In the last few weeks, I have felt more emotions regarding pregnancy.  I had kind of been on the uphill climb toward being okay with my miscarriage, but I have had triggers lately that have had me reversing.  I have only recently decided that it's okay for me to feel that way as long as I give it to Jesus and let him do a work in me. 

I have triggers, many triggers, that make me very sad over losing the baby.  In an effort to hopefully help someone else in the future, I wanted to write down these triggers so that you know a. somewhat what to expect and b. to let you know it's okay.

Emotional Triggers:

1.  Walking by baby clothing in stores.  It can be Target, Walgreens, Wal-Mart, or just the strip in Las Vegas; walking by any baby clothes makes me sad and it's extremely difficult to walk by and not want to be angry at anyone who gets to be happy in these places.

2.  Seeing a pregnant girl.  Before you worry that I hate you, I don't.  It's just very, very hard for me to see your bump.  I see you and can't help but wonder what I would look like, feel like, etc.  And because I am weak, I also can't help but thinking, "Will that ever be me?"  But just know, one of my very dear friends is pregnant and I am over the moon excited and so anxious to meet her little boy!

3.  Seeing baby announcements on Facebook.  When I see someone so excited to tell the world that they get to bring someone new into the world, my first reaction should also be excitement, but it's not.  It takes a lot of strength for me to "like" this announcement.  Trust me, I am happy for you, but it also stirs up all kinds of emotions for me.

4.  Seeing gender announcements on Facebook.  This might even be more difficult to see than just the initial baby announcement because it makes the baby a little more real when you can picture him/her and all the little cute his/her outfits they will wear.  It takes even more strength for me to "like" this.  But just know, it is a genuine like. 

5.  Being around babies.  I used to LOVE being around babies.  When I wasn't quite ready for a child of my own, being around babies was just the perfect dose to cure any baby fever that might arise.  Now, being around babies just makes me wonder what my baby would have been like.  Would he/she have been funny?  Would they have been shy like I was?  Would they have been chubby like Kyle?  Would people say, "They look so much like you!"  These are things I will never know and being around other babies makes me think all of these things and more.

6.  Going anywhere that I had previously planned on being pregnant at.  For example, Vegas.  We planned that trip shortly before being pregnant and so for a good while, I thought I would be pregnant in Vegas and had no clue just how much being there would stir up some of those emotions again just at the reality that I was in fact not pregnant. 

7.  Seeing parents be hateful to their children.  I was in a Hastings the other day and a mom, most likely at her wits end, was being so impatient and unkind to her little boy.  This is one of the most difficult triggers because I want so desperately to be a mom so to see someone take that for granted just absolutely kills me.

8.  Buying any kind of gift/card for someone's pregnancy or buying any kind of gift/card for someone's child.  I immediately begin to wonder if I will ever have any of the milestones or if I will ever have a child of my own to buy cute things for or write cards to.

That being said, as uncertain as I am about the future, I do know God has a plan.  I do know I need to trust Him.  I am holding Kyle to his word when he says, "In one way or another we will have a family."  And I am trying to soak up scriptures that speak life and truth.  I am talking to Jesus constantly about my weaknesses, my worries, my fears, and I am trying to relinquish those to him.  I need the FIRM BELIEF that my husband has and I know that is why I married him because he sharpens me and forces me to grow.  His strengths are my weaknesses and I admire his firm belief that God will be RELIABLE, that He is ABLE, that He is STRONG, and that His word is TRUTH. 

"Many put their hope in chariots, others in horses,
    but we place our trust in the name of the Eternal One, our True God" - Psalm 20:7

Braver, Stronger, Smarter

Baby Gray would have been 20 weeks today.  It's been 6 weeks since finding out that he/she became an angel.  It's still very hard to cope with the fact that my baby is gone.  There are many days when I tell my husband, "I'm still really sad we are not pregnant anymore."  While it has become easier, there are still certain triggers that make me really sad.  For example, walking by any baby section in any store or when a kid in one of my classes says, "Do you have any kids?"  I think it will become easier with each passing day, but I also think it is something I will carry with me forever.

Winnie the Pooh has always been a favorite of mine.  His cuddly simple nature has always been so endearing and encouraging even in my adulthood.  Winnie the Pooh was an option for a nursery for Baby Gray and is a piece of literature I have always planned on sharing with my kids.  I was reading Winnie quotes today and came across this one.  It is one I have heard a thousand times but today it struck a different chord and felt like Baby Gray was reading to me.

It says: 

“If ever there is tomorrow when we're not together... there is something you must always remember. You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we're apart... I'll always be with you.”-A.A. Milne

I have to remember to be brave.  Be brave and try again for Baby Gray Number Two.  While I am excited for this, I often find myself fearing the worst outcome and I have to remember to be brave.  I have so many angels watching over me and the journey ahead.

I have to be strong.  Be strong if/when I am pregnant again.  Strong to make the same good choices I made during my first pregnancy and strong to not give in to every worry or concern that may seem heightened having been through what I've been through.  Strong enough to talk about my feelings and concerns with people that will lift me up.

I have to be smart.  After the miscarriage, I was asking my husband all sorts of "What if's."  "What if my bath was too hot?"  "What if I ate something wrong?"  "What if I wasn't careful enough with certain activities?"  The list goes on and on.  Finally, he said, "Don't be stupid.  I've told you.  The Dr. told you.  Your friend told you.  It was nothing you did.  Genetically something was wrong and it just didn't work out.  It does not do any good for you to keep thinking it was something you did."  Yes, sounds harsh, but sometimes you need a good slap-in-the-face-get-out-of-your-mind-reminder to really get the point across.  I am a smart girl and I need to remember that I did and will do just fine being pregnant.

I have to remember that even though some of our tomorrows will be apart, (there will be a tomorrow in Heaven), Baby Gray will always be with me.  He/She is in my heart.  My heart explodes thinking of just how precious it must be to be with Jesus.

Xoxo,

Nicole

My Truth

One of the biggest surprises to me when I had my miscarriage about 3 weeks ago is how many girls told me that they too had miscarried at least once before if not more.  I realized that having a miscarriage is like joining this secret society that no one talks about.  So many people either commented on my Facebook status or messaged me privately about how they had also miscarried before and at that point I wondered why no one really talks about it.

One of the most helpful things for me these last three weeks has been talking to a friend who had confided in me almost a year ago when she had a miscarriage.  She said something that really hit home when she told me, "This is not to be rude but unless you've had a miscarriage before, you don't truly understand how it feels."  I was so glad that she had told me that she miscarried because it was such a blessing to be able to not feel crazy about the feelings I was having directly after finding out.  Telling someone else, even if they are close to me, just didn't really help as much as it did to tell someone who has been there themselves. 

She understood the sadness, anger, emptiness, devastation, despair, and loneliness that I was feeling.  My husband was and has been AMAZING, but the father who loses a baby due to a miscarriage just doesn't quite understand what the mother is going through because the baby is not a part of him in the same way that it is a part of the mother.  There is a bond and a connection that begins the second you find out you are carrying this life inside of you.

I think it is important to get your feelings out with anything you are going through.  Whether it is talking about it with someone or just writing it down; it's important to not let it well up inside of you.  For me, writing has been a great release and when I am feeling sad or angry about the loss I've experienced, I write down everything I am feeling in a journal.

Since finding out about my miscarriage, I have gone to the internet numerous times in search of shared experiences that might give me some hope or solace which brings me to this blog.  I believe it is important for me to share my truth with the hopes that when some other girl finds out their baby has gone to a better place, they can find some validation for every feeling that they might experience.  I have experienced denial, anger, sadness, bargaining, and I am still working on acceptance. 

It still feels like it was just yesterday that I found out my sweet baby was not going to ever be a part of my world which tells me I am not yet where I need to be before I can fully accept that he/she is gone.  What I feel like most is that I have found enough things to occupy my time and fill my thoughts so I can avoid what I am really feeling which is sadness and anger.  I'm stuck more on the anger side of this struggle. 

I often feel more pressure to be okay with it all because there is an expectation that because I am a Christian I must clothe myself with this robe of strength because I have a hope and an understanding that someone else in my position might not.  The expectation is true, I do have that hope and understanding.  I know He makes everything work according to His timing and His plan.  I know almost ans instinctively as I know how to breathe that I must cling to this truth -- but that does not make it easy to accept nor does it make it any easier to walk by racks full of baby clothes that I had begun to get excited about buying once we found out the gender.

This experience, like many in my life, is one that I do not know how someone would get through without Jesus but that does not mean that because I do have Jesus I will magically bounce back.  It will take time and I know that. 

Being pregnant is the most life altering experience.  The minute you read that "+" on the test strip, you cannot think about anything else but being pregnant.  Everything you do, you wonder if it will have a positive or negative impact on this life you've been blessed with caring for.  Everything from what you eat or drink to how hot you make your bath water is something you mull over before you decide what to do.  These decisions that previously would have never been difficult are now decisions you are making for someone else. 

Everything comes back to being pregnant.  If you are walking you think, "How long can I walk and still see my toes?"  If you want to paint your nails you think, "Is fingernail polish harmful?"  If you are getting dressed in the morning you wonder when you will have to finally break down and buy new pants to fit in.  Everything in your day revolves around this little life inside of you.

Having a miscarriage changes that in a very sudden and drastic way.  One minute every thought and decision is about this baby and then BOOM! it's gone and you are left feeling more empty than you could ever imagine.  There were days right after finding out about my miscarriage that I would forget that I was not pregnant anymore.  It's like having a dream and then realizing late in the afternoon that it was all a dream and that it never happened. 

The day of my surgery I was watching a movie with my husband, Horrible Bosses 2 of all movies, and a character in the movie has triplets.  In one scene, the babies are all in infant seats that bounce and sway and I opened my mouth to tell Kyle, "We need to register for one of those for the baby" and it hit me suddenly that my baby was gone.  It was like having to relive that moment in the doctors' office.  Immediately, I began to cry over this loss of not only the life inside of me but the life I was planning for us as a family.  This happened a lot over the days following my D&C. 

As I said before, I have been through many stages during this process and one of those was bargaining.  There were a lot of conversations that I had with myself in my mind and some that I had with Kyle about the what if's.  What if I had gone to the doctor when I was having extreme back pain?  What if my bath water was too hot?  What if I had a cheese that wasn't on the list of approved cheeses?  What if I had walked every day?  The amount of what if's was exhausting and overwhelming and I Googled way too many things.  This was the toughest stage of the miscarriage because you are left feeling inadequate and like a failure.  It's important, like many told me, to not blame yourself. 

Being pregnant, knowingly for 8 weeks, I had become very used to this new me and it had become very much who I was.  To have it ripped away was devastating.  I miss being pregnant and I miss the life I was planning.  The truth is, I felt like I was who I have always wanted to be when I was pregnant.  Almost as if I was an actor who'd dreamed of Broadway their whole life and I finally got to step out on that stage for the first time.  Being a mom has been what I have wanted for as long as I can remember and it's the only thing that I have ever really thought I would do really well. 

I am mediocre at best with everything I have attempted to be in life:  singer, dancer, employee, student, daughter, sister, wife, friend, writer, nanny, artist, dresser, cook, baker, etc.  You name it -- I'm been average at it.  Being a mother is just something I've always thought I would nail.  I truly believe it is my calling.  So back to the analogy of a Broadway actor--I'm waiting on my big break.  And, that is my truth.  

Xoxo,

Nicole

Don't Cry, Hold Your Head Up High

My grandma passed away three months ago today and lately it seems that my grief has resurfaced.  There's probably a reason that these feelings have sprung up and that my heart has been aching for her in my life.  I find myself thinking of her:  how I wish I could call her, hug her, listen to her talk, laugh at her, and hold her hand in mine and it leaves me crying for what I've lost. 

A week ago or so my husband showed me a song called Above the Clouds of Pompeii by Bear's Den.  He thought it was a good song but had no idea how much it would move me.  I began listening to it on a day that I was missing my grandma quite a bit and so many words in the song reminded me of her.

"How she haunted our home."
She always talked about ghosts that she saw in her house and when we moved her into my parents home she spoke of them there as well.  We joked that she brought them with her. 

"Don't you know I miss her too.  I miss her just as much as you."
This made me think of how often my brother and I will exchange sentiments about our Grandma and how much we miss her.

"I was too young to understand the flowers sleeping in her hand."
This made me think of her funeral and while I am clearly old enough to understand death, it still never gets easier.  It will never be easy to live in a world without my Grandma.

All of these things reminded me of her and made me sad, but then the chorus offered some hope.  It says,

"Don't cry, hold your head up high.  She would want you to.  She would want you to.  Please, don't cry, hold your head up high.  She would want you to.  She would want you to."

Grandma's are special because for whatever reason it seems as though their love is the most unconditional of all family members.  Yes, your parents love you and love you no matter what, but at least for me (my brother and cousins, also) we were perfect in her eyes.  We could do no wrong.  She was proud of us for everything and craved to be in our company.  There is something about a Grandma's love that is just so overwhelmingly pure and unique. 

Even though she drove me absolutely crazy at times because of her constant worrying about absolutely everything, I always felt at peace when I was around her.  There is something so safe about being with your Grandma.  She was so beautifully simple, yet the most amazing woman I knew.  Born in the dirt of New Mexico, she was strong and independent. 

I know she would not want me to cry too much for her and that she would want me to hold my head up high.  I will never forget the last words she said.  It overwhelms me just how much Jesus has his hand in every aspect of my life.  She told me, "It's alright."  Up until her death, she comforted me. 

I still ache for her so much and have so much that I wish I could share with her, but I know that she would want me to be happy because that's all she ever wanted when she was here. 

xoxo,

Nicole
 

Who I Am

In the last few days I have come to the realization that I am months away from being twenty-seven.   

T W E N T Y  -  S E V E N.  

This stark realization is a little disheartening especially when I feel 22.  The biggest reason I think I feel 22 is because I am constantly wondering when I will find my niche.  I'm stuck in that college age.  I feel like I'm sitting impatiently in the waiting room of life, waiting to be directed to my place in this world.

This is something that has always stirred inside of me:  What should I do?  Where can I make the biggest difference in someone else's life?  It is an uncomfortable thought and a frustrating one to be reminded of when I feel like everyone else around me has found their place.  In this day and age of social media, it's a very real struggle to not define your self worth by whether or not your baby announcement was Pinterest worthy enough for the masses.  Don't lose hope.

Sunday, a weight was lifted off of my shoulders concerning this need of mine to find something to do that will make me feel worthy or valued.  We tried out a new church in Norman (couldn't get connected at previous church) and the pastor said this, "Who you are should not be defined by what you do.  What you do should be defined by who you are."  He might as well have said,  

"Nicole, who you are should not be defined by what you do!! 
What you do should be defined by who you are! 
 Capeesh?!?!"  

 I have to admit that right after he said this, he lost me.  I was in my own head with thoughts like, "Wait, so I could do anything in the world and it wouldn't define me??? God, you're telling me that it doesn't matter what I do?  All that matters is who I am?"

I began thinking about how really whatever I end up doing in life, as long as my actions are centered on who I am as a Christian, the rest of it shouldn't matter.  Whether I work in a flower shop, file in Financial Aid, scoop ice cream, nanny children, clean apartments, work in an office, take care of my grandma; it doesn't matter.  I still need to be who I am all the time.  This really got me thinking: Who am I?  Have I been an ambassador and servant of Jesus?  Has his light, love, mercy, kindness, joy, grace, forgiveness, compassion, patience, and integrity been shown in my work?

It seems so simple, yet here I am at twenty-six years old just now finally seeing the big picture.  You are not defined by what you do.  You're a doctor?  Cool.  How do you treat your patients?  Do your co-workers think that you are kind and respectful?  You're a teacher?  More power to you.  Do your students see you as an example of Christ?  You're a stay-at-home mom?  Awesome!  Do you pray over your kids in the morning before school?  Do you let his patience overwhelm you when your kids are driving you insane?

If we let what we do define who we are, we will always feel empty because I guarantee there will always be someone who has a better job, better pay, or better hours.  But, if we let who we are define what we do, we will be filled with purpose knowing that we are doing what we were ultimately created for and that is to be a servant of Christ.  It should be our goal and our focus to let Jesus be seen in what we do.  You never know who at your job or in your day-to-day will need to see the love of Jesus.

Who I am currently is a girl who loves Jesus and Jesus is enough.

Xoxo,

Nicole

The ALS Ice Bucket Challenge

Every once in a while, something bothers me enough or stirs something up in me and makes me want to blog.  Blogging, while not a regular hobby of mine is an outlet for me to get my thoughts out there; whether I have no readers or 100 readers.  It's for me.  There is the hope that it may provide a different perspective that someone might not have thought of yet or it will stir something up in someone else, but ultimately it is for me.

As you have most likely guessed from the title of this blog, I have many thoughts on The ALS Ice Bucket Challenge.  While it is a "challenge" to pour a bucket of ice cold water on your head, I think there are other challenges that come along with this new trend:

1.  Should I do it?
2.  Should I upload it to Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Vine, etc.?
3.  Should I do the challenge and also donate?
4.  Should I just donate and not pour ice water?
5.  Will people think I'm just following a trend?
6.  Should I show people that even though I'm not pouring the ice water, that I at least donated?

Over the weeks that this has been going on and becoming more and more popular, I have seen some of the people that I follow on social media make remarks about how they can't wait until the Ice Bucket Challenge is over.  I understand where they are coming from as I was so ready for people to quit uploading videos of their kids, celebrities, and random strangers singing "Let It Go" or some terrible parody of the song.  However, I had a change of heart when I thought to myself, "if this is what makes them smile today, why should I care if it's the 8000th time I've heard this song?" Social media can be a very powerful outlet, if we allow it to be. 

Here's some facts about ALS:

1.  ALS can strike anyone.
2.  The onset of ALS is insidious with muscle weakness or stiffness as early symptoms.  Progression of weakness, wasting and paralysis of the muscles of the limbs and trunk as well as those that control vital functions such as speech, swallowing and later breathing generally follows.
3.  About twenty percent of people with ALS live five years or more and up to ten percent will survive more than ten years and five percent will live 20 years.  There are people in whom ALS has stopped progressing and a small number of people in whom the symptoms of ALS reversed.
(www.alsa.org)

Here's the BIG PICTURE, PEOPLE.  The main reason of the Ice Bucket Challenge was to raise awareness and to raise money to fund research efforts.  Should it really matter if someone is doing it to just follow the crowd?  Even if someone did the challenge and didn't donate, ALS is being talked about.  On the ALS Association website a press release from today states, "As of Sunday, August 24th, The ALS Association has received $70.2 million in donations compared to $2.5 million during the same time period last year (July 29 to August 24).  These donations have come from existing donors and 1.3 million new donors to The Association."

Let's focus on the positive here.  Donations increased by roughly $68 million dollars.  That's wonderful if you ask me.  Not only that, but there are 1.3 million new donors.  So for all you naysayers out there, I'm pretty sure it's working, even if it is annoying you.  And for that matter, get off social media if you are tired of it.  Because really, aren't you just following a popular trend yourself by even having social media accounts?  Regardless of whether or not someone is doing it for the right reason, it's working, and I think it's pretty cool.

If myself or a loved one had ALS or some other illness and people across the country were dumping ice cold water on their heads and donating to help further research to find a cure for that illness, I would be so incredibly grateful.  I've seen where people think it's pretty narcissistic to participate in the challenge and upload these videos to social media outlets, but I think it's pretty narcissistic to be thinking about how much you are being annoyed by it rather than thinking of the people directly affected by ALS and how much these donations and the chatter about it means to them.  

We all have our moments and I in no way am trying to hurt anyone's feelings by writing this.  Sometimes, I just think we are too critical and a different perspective on things can cause you to think about something in a way you never would have before.   The biggest thing I would say is just to always try and put yourself in other people's shoes.  I think when we truly try and understand what it would be like to face the challenges that someone else faces daily, we start thinking a little less about ourselves and more about others.  Isn't that what Christ would ask us to do?

"Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others."  Phil 2:4

I've uploaded this video on Facebook already, but it really did open my eyes to the challenges that people with ALS and their caretakers go through every day.  It's way more challenging that a couple seconds of cold.

Xoxo,

Nicole

Summer of '08

Today marks six years since Kyle and I decided that we would make a pretty good pair.  I decided it might be fun to share a little of our story in honor of our day.

Our story really started in December of 2006.  I was home (Carlsbad, NM) on my Christmas break from my Freshman year in college and Kyle was home on his Christmas Break from his senior year in college (cradle robber--I know).  We always shared a lot of the same friends and ran in the same circles and this Christmas Break our circles were very much into hanging out at my house and having game nights. 

Kyle and I always got along very well.  He never admits it really, but I knew he thought I was funny (in my own way) and I think it made him feel good that I was constantly laughing at him.  There was flirting going on but never any conversation of whether there was anything there or not.  My friend Michael, who is a meddler in the best way, decided to tell Kyle that I liked him and asked Kyle if he liked me.  Kyle had never really thought of me in that way before, but after Michael told him I liked him, he started to see the potential of it.  The thing is, I had never told Michael that I liked Kyle.  He had just witnessed our chemistry and was playing matchmaker. 

Kyle and his friends had been going to the Sun Bowl ,which is in El Paso, every year for a few years and for some reason that I can't really remember, I was going this year too.  I'm sure it had something to do with wanting to be around Kyle because at that stage in my life I had no desire to watch football.  Maybe it was because Rihanna was just coming on the scene and was performing S.O.S. at halftime.  Who knows?  Anyway, everyone that was going stayed the night at a family friends' house so that we could all just wake up and get on the road to get to El Paso.  We all hung out, played ping-pong, etc. and Kyle and I ended up staying up all night talking.  I remember that I was wearing a onesie (Yes, I was super early to the onesie party) and Kyle was laughing at the way I say certain words.  Other than that, I have no recollection of what we talked about.  It had to have been pretty good because if you know me, you know that I absolutely HATE staying up late. 

Anyway, we got up (Dec. 29th) and headed to the Sun Bowl.  I think it was pretty obvious to anyone around us that there was some attraction between the two of us.  It was a little awkward, because who wants to flirt with your big brother hanging around, but I made the best of it knowing that he was headed to Arizona for the Fiesta Bowl on the 31st.  We sat next to each other at the game, joked, talked, laughed, and sat together on the way back from the Sun Bowl.  There was definitely something there. 

So, fast forward . . . he went to Arizona, came back for like a day before I was leaving to go back to Seattle for school and we went on a date.  We went to the movies to see Charlotte's Web (the terrible version with Dakota Fanning) and then the next day I headed off back to Seattle.  My mom and I drove the whole way from NM to WA so there was a lot of MSN Messenger going on when we would get to a hotel for the night.  Kyle and I talked about going to Venice in ten years (I'm holding him to this), music, tv, movies.  We talked about a lot.  It wasn't until I was at school for a few days that he decided to actually call me. 

We started talking on the phone, chatting on Messenger, Myspacing, Facebooking, and texting when he wasn't already at his max amount of texts.  I would look forward to a new message from him after class.  I urged him to get unlimited texting so we could text during class and what not which plays into our story in just a minute. 

I got too much inside my own head and let my nerves get the best of me and decided I was not ready for a relationship and just wanted to be his friend.  The thing is, I was scared because I knew we would go the distance because we are so compatible.  I let him know this through a message on Myspace (I know, sorry) and then told him "Oh, by the way, I'm not going to be on Social Media for a week-ttyl!.  Needless to say, I broke his heart.  The day he got my message, his mom had just upgraded their cellular plan to unlimited text.  Perfect timing.  Not.

Kyle, being unlike any other guy I know, decided that if he couldn't have what he wanted (a relationship) then I couldn't have what I wanted (a friendship).  He cut all ties.  He did not speak to me for over a year.  He wasn't even really that civil, but I get where he was coming from.  I always tell him and I believe it wholeheartedly, "If we had gotten together then, when I wasn't ready, we wouldn't have ended up where we are now." 

So, let's do some more fast-forwarding, it's April of 2008 (April 28th to be exact) and I posted something on Facebook about having a hard time.  MUCH TO MY SURPRISE, Kyle calls me to see if everything is alright.  I was shocked he was calling because he was very strict about his "I'm not talking to you; we are not friends thing."  I remember him joking and telling me, "You need to break down the walls around your heart."  That really stuck with me because I had put up some metaphorical walls around my heart and really didn't let people in all that easy.

That summer, the summer of '08, I was invited to do music at a church camp in Sacramento, NM with a friend.  We got to the camp and surprise, Kyle was a counselor.  I was not aware he'd be there.  He was not aware I'd be there and you could tell from his face when he found out I was going to be there, he was not happy.  He was very standoffish at first; playing it super cool.  But after a game of horseshoes, he slowly started to warm up.  We were back where we left off: laughing and flirting.  We had a great time there playing games, music, talking, etc.  I started to think, "Maybe there is hope for us.  Maybe we will get a second chance."

We came home from that camp and started hanging out more.  He would come over to my house to hang out with my brother but would stick around long after my brother would leave to go to work.  I remember one rainy afternoon in July when he and I were on my back porch playing ping pong.  He was wearing a gray shirt, my favorite shirt of his, and I remember thinking, "It's official.  I like him, a lot." 

My friend and I left for Dallas to go see some old friends and Kyle and I texted the entire time.  I probably bugged my friend and wasn't very present because I was pretty involved in always communicating in some way with Kyle.  Most nights while in Dallas, I would fall asleep texting Kyle.  I was so excited to get back to Carlsbad so I could see him.  We headed home on a Sunday (July 13th) and while on our way, my friend had a blowout, which delayed my arrival quite a bit.  When you are in that first phase of a relationship where you are just dying to see the other person at all times it can be torture to have a blowout on an 8 hour road trip. 

We eventually made it home and Kyle was at my house for my mom's birthday party.  I was so excited to be back and to see him.  At this point, we still had not really talked about where this all was going.  The next day, July 14th, we were both supposed to be helping with VBS at FUMC.  When I got there and went to find out which group I was the leader of I found out that I was in the same group as Kyle.  I believe this was most likely orchestrated by someone who wanted to see us end up together.  We had a great time with the kids and made plans to watch a movie later that night. 

He came to my house and we decided to watch Moulin Rouge, which is a favorite of ours and something we had talked about back in 2006.  We put on the movie but spent most of the movie and hours and hours afterward just talking and laughing.  I think he left my house at like 5 in the morning, which again says how much I really liked him because I don't stay up for just anyone.  He joked about how I would have to handle all the kids by myself because he needed to get some sleep after staying up late.  As far as I can remember we didn't really ever have the talk about what we were but it was that night, July 14th, that we both just knew that we were starting something really great. 

That summer is one of my favorite summers to date and six years later he is still making me laugh. 

I thank God that He placed Kyle in my life and made sure we got it right the second time. 

This is the first photo we took together as boyfriend and girlfriend.  He was 23 and I was just a baby, 20 years old.  He is wearing the gray shirt that he was wearing when I had that, "this is who I'm going to spend the rest of my life with" moment.

Love you, Kyle.  Thanks for the best 6 years of my life. 

Xoxo,

Nicole

Desert Dweller

I have never been much of a desert dweller.  My husband on the other hand belongs in the desert.  He loves the hot, hot heat and is energized by it.  I, however, am usually drained by it.

Metaphorically lately, I have also been in a desert of sorts.  I have had these feelings of being in a barren wasteland within my own mind and it is draining me of my joy.  I like to be honest and transparent in my blogs because usually someone is dealing with something similar and it's nice sometimes to feel like you are not crazy or alone in this world.  

The most frustrating part about feeling down or sad is not being able to really pinpoint why you are sad.  This is where I am.  I have so very much to be grateful for and so very many reasons to be joyful, and I sometimes am, but lately I found myself on the other end of the spectrum.  

Today in trying to remedy these feelings of sadness I have looked into volunteering at a local food bank, I have contacted my church about volunteering there, I sat down at the piano and worshiped Jesus, and I have looked up some verses to give me hope about my current state.  The truth of the matter is, I can volunteer my butt off, I can talk to people and get advice, I can escape for a minute in a funny TV show; but, the only thing that will actually bring me up out of this temporary pit is Jesus.  I know that from the bottom of my heart and so it is time for me to seek Him out and hand over this sadness to him.  

The most important thing is that I recognize something is wrong and that I admit it.  Often I feel like when people are sad or depressed, they don't want to tell anyone because they don't want to be a burden.  They don't want people to think that they are being crazy.  Or if they are anything like me, they think, "Why I am sad?  There are so many people that have legitimate reasons to be sad and here I am being so pitiful."  But, He doesn't really care if you are a privileged American white girl or a underprivileged boy in Africa; He tells us all to come to Him with our troubles and to lay them at His feet.  Nowhere does he say, "Hey, if you are just sad for no reason, shake it off."  

There are so many verses that gave me hope today and I'd like to share a few of them.

Psalms 40:1-3 I waited patiently for the LORD; he inclined to me and heard my cry. He drew me up from the pit of destruction, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure. He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God. Many will see and fear, and put their trust in the LORD.

Psalms 42:11 Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God.

Psalms 34:17 When the righteous cry for help, the LORD hears and delivers them out of all their troubles.

 

Revelation 21:4  He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.

Romans 8:38-39 For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

1 Peter 4:12-13 Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed.

I was thinking of songs to play and was reminded of a song that I used to always sing about 7 or 8 years ago.  The words in it were so fitting for this time in my life.  I decided to record it and share it because the message is so good.  The chorus was a great reminder for me to daily spend time with Jesus and to just dance at his feet.  My life is His.  The chorus says, "And so I come into your chambers and I dance at your feet, Lord.  You are my savior and I'm at your mercy.  All has been in my life up to now, it belongs to you.  You are still holy."  

 

https://soundcloud.com/coleighgray/you-are-still-holy

 

If you are sad or going through something that feels somewhat hopeless, please give it over to Him.  Tell someone close to you and let them pray for you.  They can't take your pain but they can intercede on your behalf.  If you don't feel like you have anyone to tell, I'd love to pray for you.  

 

Xoxo, 

 

Nicole

Happy Birthday, My Love

Today is my best friend's birthday.  This is one of my favorite days of the year because I am so very thankful that he was born.  He is 29 today and doesn't look a day over 28.  ;)

My favorite thing about my husband is how much he makes me laugh.

On Sunday I was reminded of just how much fun we have when we are together and a lot of that is because he is constantly making me laugh whether he is making a joke or making fun of something I've done.

I am so very glad that 29 years ago God placed him in this world because I can't imagine my world without him.

He is

Kind
Caring
Sweet
Funny
Intelligent
Clever
Witty
Thoughtful
Friendly
Handsome
Athletic
and most of all, he is the man of God I always prayed for.

He challenges me to be the best version of myself.  He is not afraid to tell me when he thinks that I am not living up to my potential.  He checks me and allows me to check him too.  He challenges me to go outside of my box because he always wants people to see the me that he sees.  He has made my confidence sky rocket and continues to lift me up always.  He prays for me, for us, and for others.  He is the head of the household that I always wanted.  He has put in many hours to get to where he is today and I am enjoying getting to see him helping other people feel better and do what he has worked so hard to do.

He is handsome and I am so proud of the man he is and has shaped himself to be.  I say shaped himself because more than anyone I know, he is constantly looking inward and trying to better himself.  He is very critical of himself and holds himself to a higher standard.  He has made me more aware of self reflection and how to be aware of my faults, but also my strengths.  He completes me.

My favorite thing about him is that he realizes that nothing in this world is about him.  He reminds me often that it's not about us; it's about God and about His plan.  This has really helped me in the last year or so when I want to get down about certain circumstances.

The most recent thing I have discovered that I love about him is the way he is with my Grandma.  It takes a pretty special guy to offer to grandmasit, take her on rides, sit with her and talk to her, and to always try to make her laugh.  He is so good with her and I thank God that I married such a kind and sweet man.

I see the love of Jesus in him and through him every day.

Happy Birthday, my love.  You are my best friend and I love doing this thing called life with you.

Xoxo,

Nicole