Another October 19th

I still feel badly that Peyton's birthday is shared with the anniversary of Autumn's death. But there really is no getting around it. It wasn't planned - it just is. And the Lord knew what He was doing.

I had a good cry on the night of the 18th. Mourning the little girl who never became part of our family - gone before I knew her. I let myself remember not only her death - but life before she died. Both bring tears.

... and yet - my life is full of contentment. My girls bring me such joy.

Peyton is the walking, talking, jumping, rhyming, running definition of life.
Tenley is mischievous, glowing, affectionate and clever.

I wonder what our family would be like if they really were our second and third child.
I wonder what Autumn would look like now. What she would sound like. So many unknowns. Sometimes, when Peyton is particularly amusing (you know, when your child does something you just shake your head in wonderment at and think, "How did you become like this?") I find myself pausing and thinking about the little life which just vanished from mine. Those moments are still challenging.

I wish we didn't have to plan a graveyard visit and balloon release tomorrow. But I wouldn't trade it. Sharing that experience with Peyton and Tenley is our family's way of marking Autumn's life. She is the reason for so many things.

A journey to the graveyard on October 21st is our life. For better or worse, this is the family we've been given. The history we've lived and the future we have hope for. We are who we are by the grace and purpose of God. That's really good to cling to when my heart threatens to break again.

I miss Autumn. But I have peace.

I love you forever.
I'll like you for always.
As long as I'm living -
these three girls
my babies will be.

About Fear

It's funny how things come up.

I'm surfing facebook - linking, linking, linking... and all of a sudden I find a link of a family whose baby boy died last month.

He was 10-and-a-half months old. One and a half months beyond where Tenley is.

It's like a literal fist in the stomach. The way the emotion hits, I mean.
The worst of it is that reading about and feeling that family's pain isn't so foreign. The horror of a life-changing discovery... and the same emotions of "This cannot be happening." run though me as I picture the moment she found her dead child.

I can even imagine what it would be like to call the police... family... friends. How to share the unthinkable...

And so - initially - I just cry. For that mom who writes, "I checked 10 times each night. And that night he just looked like he was sleeping peacefully - but he was gone." For the little boy who is so bright and beautiful in the pictures. For his big brother who is now an only child again.

But in the middle of that grief comes a new one emotion.
One I fight with all my being 'cause it's a bad one.

The fear can be overwhelming.
Ahhhh... why sugar coat it?
It is overwhelming. If it wasn't normal to be this way, Jesus wouldn't have had to tell his children how to fight it.

I had to make a hard choice.
Close facebook. Breathe. Be still. Do not run to their room. Pray.

My children are the Lord's gift to me. I have no guarantees. I know His plans for me are good. All the days of my life are leading me to the moment I will fall at His feet with tears and cry "It was all worth it!" I know this will happen. So I must fight to believe it in this fearful moment.

I ask His protection of my little ones as they sleep. To keep their heart's beating - lungs breathing... and all the while I know it could happen to me. My sweet baby girl could die of SIDS.

But my purpose is not to prepare myself for the worst.

It's to prepare myself for whatever He has for me.
I've lived one "worst-case-scenario".
There was no preparing - no planning in the world that could have lessened the sting of that heartbreak.

But Jesus held me. And I know that He still is. And still will. And will never let me go.

After reminding myself of these things, I did - of course! - go check on her.

She startled and gave an annoyed cry at my prodding.
I opened a window to cool it down. I made sure she wasn't over-bundled - and that the fan was blowing on her every once in a while.
I watched her chest rise and fall.
I loved those little baby lip movements and hand twitches.
Her soft spiky hair after her bath... her perfect round little belly stuck up in the air as she stretched her legs out.
I thought about the way her smile lights up the room. How quick she is to giggle, to give affection and be playful...
I cherish everything about that child. I love her so much my heart breaks.

Perhaps - I won't be so grumpy when that same little baby wants to eat 3 times tonight.
Or when she gets angry that I would dare put her back in her own bed.
Or when she wakes up her sister who bellows, "TENLEY!! YOU'RE TOO LOUD FOR MEEEE!" and chaos and confusion reign in our house between the hours of 2 and 5 am...

:)

I'm thinking that maybe the heartache and fear of tonight have accomplished something that needed to be done.
I am reminded of where I've been. I am reminded of the grace that has been shown to me. And I'm reminded of how much I love being a mommy - with all it's ups and downs and sleep deprivation. I remember what it took me to get here: to get them.

I remember how I longed for my arms to be full after Autumn was gone... and how God has given each of my arms a daughter to cuddle.

I have confidence for the future because of my past. Because of what He's already done.

Thank you, Lord.

May Update

So I became terribly convicted that I've not posted for almost an entire month - and a picture of the kiddos - no matter how adorable - doesn't really count.

--
Kurt and I are finally (and do I mean finally) getting a honeymoon. It came about something like this:

I got a Travelzoo 'top 20' which I perused halfheartedly.
I noticed a massive discount at the Niagara Falls Hilton.
I casually clicked it.
I got excited. And then talked myself out of it. And then I kinda got excited again in a "Hmmm... what if...?" kind of way.

I checked airline prices. I cried. (no not really. that's just for dramatic effect)

I called RBC to find out how many air miles we had fully prepared to find out we were about 25,000 short.
Omigosh. We had exactly enough (like, with 34 to spare)

I called my mom in Arizona with a "what would you do??" request for advice.
She offered on the spot to take the kids.

Our friend Riannon said she could do chores.

Oh man. It's even exciting to re-type!!! :)

I put the whole deal together in a little love-note package that promised to submit to whatever Kurt decided and gave it to him one evening. Lets face it - we're not exactly rolling in the dough these days with me being on mat-leave and he... farming. So I wanted to be really sure my heart wasn't going to be angry and bitter if he said we couldn't swing it. He does the books, after all.

My only request was that he take a few minutes and think and pray - and if I knew he was going to do that, I could handle anything.

He totally went for it! :)

So, June 13th, at 0605 we're flying to the big TO, renting a car and driving to Niagara Falls - staying in luxury room at the Fallsview Hilton for two nights, eating steak, touring vineyards, and yes - even riding the Maid of the Mist (how could we not???) - and landing back in Saskatoon on the 15th at 8:15 pm. The perfect little getaway. Far enough we need to fly there, close enough we don't need to get shots before leaving.

The most amazing concept is thinking about flying there. Holding hands. Drinking hot coffee. No Treehouse TV on the screens in front of us. No one getting pooped on. I swear: that's half the holiday for me. (lol!)

I hope no one misunderstands this excitement. I love being Peyton and Tenley's mommy. We're so blessed to have them - and even this small and needy phase is a gift. It's our life right now, and I'm not complaining. But it is hectic. And it is darn-near impossible to get a date in more often than once every couple of months.

The fact of the matter is that nothing is better for kids than to have two parents crazy-in-love with each other. And I kinda have the feeling this getaway will be good for them to that effect. ;)

So to wrap this up, I'll try to be calm and subtle.

WOOOO-HOOOO!

--
In other news (hard to top that one, right?) we've got our garden patch rota-tilled and planned. One of these evenings we'll get it done.
Also got my pots done. Of course - those pots were on SUPER-sale at Costco and I didn't "do" anything other than hand over my Amex card. But they're on my deck. Lookin' good.

--
I put this on facebook: but when we visited Autumn's grave a few weeks ago, we noticed that someone had left flowers there. We're not sure who - but if you're reading this - thank you. It touched my heart so deeply.

Peyton is also starting to talk about Autumn a lot more. She'll say, "Do you know what?" and when someone says, "What?" she'll get a very sad look on her face and say, "Autumn died." I've felt bad for a couple of people who haven't known what to say.
There really isn't anything to say.

Peyton is also asking a lot of questions.
"Did you put Autumn in the mud?" ("No. She was in a cozy box with a little bed and warm blankets, Peyton."

"Why does she have to stay there?" ("Because this is where people who have died stay.")

"Will Jesus raise Autumn up from the grave?" ("Someday, Peyton, Jesus will come back and everyone will see Him.")

My heart and mind are full and busy these days - but these moments give me pause. I've been able to talk to my second daughter about some of those things that I've wanted to since the day Autumn died. How God sustains me. How His love has held me. How sin is horrible - and why death is in this world. How when Autumn died I prayed and prayed and asked God to give me a little baby - and He gave me Peyton.

I've watched her eyes tear up as she says, "Mommy. I wish my big-sister Autumn didn't die."
("Me too, sweetie. Mommy wishes that very much, too.")

What a place to be in. I'm daily asking God for wisdom and discernment in how to handle both her questions and grief as well as my own. Anyone who would like to ask Him for that for me would be most appreciated. :)

--
Whew.

--
Kurt and I are both heading in different directions this weekend. He's off to bachelor party with Cody and the boys to an unknown location. (He actually does know - but Cody doesn't, so it's on the down-low...)

I am taking both girls, the stroller, my pots which don't yet have flowers in them and a couple of suitcases and heading to Melfort for a few days with Kurt's parents. We're looking forward to our respective times away - should be a lot of fun on both ends. He'll freeze alone in a tent, and I'll be pampered and spoiled. (lol!)

Okay - so maybe that's a little extreme. But in my case, having an extra couple of sets of hands to help with the girls will be lovely. Not to mention I'll eat well! :)

Peyton is going to have Grandpa at the park morning, noon and evening. :)

--
Thanks for reading, everyone! :)

Where Did February Go? (it got buried under all that snow, I guess...)

Helloooo!

Tenley is napping and Peyton is enjoying her daily dose of the Mickey Mouse Club - so I've literally got about 8 minutes to give a quick update.

We got through the family's second round of colds last week. Not as scary as the first: no hospitalizations now that Tenley can actually turn her head to cough. It made for some grumpy days with Peyton - who one day told Kurt, "I feel crummy, Daddy." Truer words were never spoken. She used up almost a whole bottle of childrens Advil - but the drippy nose has finally stopped. So glad that's over... and praying spring will quickly arrive! (Hard to imagine with the 6-foot snow pile by the driveway - but a girl can hope, right?)

Speaking of snow: I won't say this often because I am severely lacking storage space: but I am very thankful we don't have a basement this year. When all that snow starts to melt, I don't have to worry about getting a sump pump in gear. That said: we might just up and float away in this-here trailer... but that's another trial for another day. ;)

These days find me working on being a good mom. And I don't mean that lightly. I ordered the book "Don't Make Me Count to Three" a few weeks ago. The first 3 chapters have already just reinforced to me what a major responsibility it is to be these girl's mommy. Needless to say, feeling that has caused me to seek out God more: making a daily time to read and pray for me (ahem!) them. ;)

I've cut waaay back on facebook and (duh.) blogging time. We've been baking and doing laundry and singing and dancing the days away. We're currently working on perfecting Usher's amazing leg-jives from the video "DJ's got us falling in love." (I did not claim that everything were were doing was profitable.)

We're not going stir crazy yet - but when we get close I enforce the non-optional nap time. It's good to be the boss. (Baa-ha-ha.)

And... (3 minutes left)... it's cold. Super-cold. Even by middle-Saskatchewan standards. -36 this morning. (-32.8 F) before windchill.

That's crazy cold.

Kurt has to haul pigs today - so I'm praying he and they all stay safe and warm as they travel. I'm also thanking the Lord for a furnace that is running consistently (albeit often!) - and a vent right by my feet as I type.

I have to admit that I'm counting down the days until we leave this vast and barren land for the hot version of it down south. Arizona, here we come! :) T-minus 17 days until departure...

Okay - must run - but a picture before I depart!Baba (my dad's mom) made Tenley's toque and mittens - and Peyton wanted to be part of the picture, too. It's winter, people - look at my kids! :)

Ack! Tenley is crying in the other room: short and sweet. Talk to you sometime within the next month or so soon!

kendall

A Gift

I bought a lotion today at Superstore - it was kinda random - I needed a brand to deal with winter skin and this one fit the bill.
I didn't remember if I'd ever tried it before - and it wasn't an issue as Kurt and the girls were waiting for me to cash out and I just needed to choose one and go.

When I got home I had a quick bath and broke out the new lotion to get ready for bed.

The scent was familiar at first - and I vaguely registered I had used it before.
But like a sudden flash of lightning the memory became crisp and clear - bringing tears.
I pressed my eyes shut and sat on the edge of the bed and let my mind go back in time.

I had bought that lotion before Autumn was born - to take to the hospital in my bag for use after delivery.
The day she was born, I used that lotion after I showered. When I held her, I smelled it. Her blankets I brought home smelled like it. In the weeks after her death I would go into her room and hold that yellow blanket and weep... clinging to something physical - trying to create and maintain connections with the child I never had a chance to know.

Eventually, the blanket lost it's scent. The lotion ran out and I never bought the same kind.

Life moved on - and I have felt for a long time all I had was the pictures. On October 21st, 2007, I was in physical pain, as well as shock. I've not even been sure I have any real memories of that day. It's kind of like looking at pictures of your childhood: you might think you remember something... but it's really only just a vague impression that has been reinforced by the snapshots you see in photo albums. I'll be honest: this has grieved me deeply. It's like the most momentous event in my history: and I don't even feel like I was fully present.

That's the incredible impact of today.
I had no idea, but my aching, inexperienced, brand-new-mommy heart did take measure - even in the shock and grief - it latched on to something to remember.

Like a perfume, or a particular brand of laundry detergent often characterizes people to us... this lotion is the smell of Autumn. It's in my heart. And my heart is remembering more clearly than it has in a very long time the feel of her tiny body - her little fingers and toes... and her scent.

3 years and 3 months after the most horrible day of my life, I'm faced with the bittersweet discovery that I do have more of her than mere pictures. My heart has stored a memory of her as clear as those of her sister's baby-fresh scents.

It's like finding a long-lost treasure I didn't even know was missing.
It hurts, though. Enough to bring tears.
But it's something 'new' of her that I can have for me for the rest of my life.

I love you forever, Autumn. Tonight more than ever... because with every breath, it's like you are in my arms again.
I miss you so terribly, baby girl... but I'm grateful.

Thank you, Jesus.

Joy

Last night at about 12:30 am Tenley and I were both awake.
I was trying to sleep - but hearing her little baby-noises coming from the bassinet made it difficult. She wasn't fussing - just 'talking'.

Then all of a sudden it hit me:
We came really close to losing her this week. I have no doubt that without the medical attention she received, she would have sustained long-term injury, or worse. The beautiful, sweet, content little girl who has only been part of our lives for 3 weeks could have been lost to us so easily. It happens to others... why not to us?

I clearly remember how I would have given anything in the weeks after Autumn died to spend sleepless nights with my baby.

So with a prayer of thanks to the Lord that the reason I wasn't able to sleep was those very sweet baby-noises, I clicked on the light and picked her up.

Kurt - fortunately - can sleep through pretty much anything... because she and I had a conversation about how good Jesus is, and how much I love her and am thankful that God has given her to me.

Eyes wide open, she gave the impression of listening intently.
And then it happened.

She smiled at me.

Three times. While singing to me.
And there was no gas involved, either. ('cause you bet I was listening for it even as I was exalting in the toothless grin...)

Today I was taking her one-month piggy pictures: and just in case I could have thought it was a fluke, she did several repeats of the same big grin.
Peyton didn't smile until she was almost 11 weeks: after Christmas.

Tenley isn't even 4-and-a-half weeks old.

I woke Kurt up with an exclaimed, "Look honey! She's smiling!"
I think he raised his head off the pillow and muttered, "That's great..." but since I'm highly doubting he remembers that exchange, I guess it's a good thing she's in the mood to repeat. (chuckle)

What a gift this child is... the joy in my heart today is overwhelming.
Thank you, thank you for your prayers and love: here and on facebook and in private emails... I am a blessed woman to have friends who care and reach out.

The song on my music player while I type is Light Up The Sky. It's the very last one (#42)... Give it a listen - crank it up, even. I dare you. (grin)

With palms open and up, eyes closed, and tears nearing the surface - it's my prayer regarding the events of the past week.

Love to all...

Getting There and Going Home

Two shots which - when I viewed them on a screen bigger than my Canon - brought tears to my eyes...

Pure joy.

My heart overflows with it.

Thank you, dearest Jesus, for these three precious gifts you have given me...

November 2nd

It's true... the day we've been waiting for for months is almost here.
November 3rd is tomorrow.

I still have to pack that darn hospital bag. I know, I know.
Bad. I really do know that.
(parts of it are 'stacked-neatly' in my room - ready for placing in a bag... so it isn't all bad)

But - I dunno... deep down I just kinda know I won't go into labor early. It isn't even something that runs in my family (maternal side, anyway).
Having been through this twice before, I think there would be a few more signs - and I never got that sense.

That said - if I'm wrong and my water breaks in the next two hours - you have my permission to say, "Silly-procrastinator, Kendall."

But the girl's (plural!) room is done.
And absolutely delightful! :)

Kurt did a super job of building a closet-organizer - from scratch. I told him what I wanted (handed him a scrap of paper and said, "Can you build this closet for me by next week, honey?"), and he did all the measuring, cutting, painting, and placement.

Everything fit perfectly the first time. I'm so proud of him.
Peyton - after seeing the completed project for the first time - said, "Wow! Good job, Daddy!" I think that might have meant even more to him than my praise. :)

All of the kid's clothes now have a place in the closet, and the change-table can be kept solely for diapers, blankets, bedding and receiving blankets. A dream come true...

Peyton is beyond thrilled at her big-girl bed. The first thing she did when she saw it put together this morning (we finished up after she went to bed in our room last night) was grab a book off her shelf and "read" in her bed. She also keeps looking at the two new pink walls and exclaiming, "Wow! Pink!" with a big grin. :)

(Funny story: After the first coat, Kurt stood back and said, "We're promoting our own breast-cancer awareness with this room." lol!)

The only things missing are the closet doors, toy box and the new baby's name-lettering.

The first item is in Saskatoon waiting for pickup at Rona. (We had to custom-order them because the size of the opening isn't 'standard'.)

The second is waiting for pick-up at my parent's house (a 3rd generation toy box, no less!). It will likely go at the foot of Peyton's bed (where that tub is now).

The third is an item custom made by my dear friend Katrina - who has her own family (including a baby daughter!) to contend with. :) But we'll eventually get it hooked up - and the letters will go above the crib just like Peyton's are above her bed.

Both the first and second item(s) have to be primed and painted - but Kurt has this lovely thing called a 'heated garage' which makes painting an easy task even in the dead of winter. :)

Having a room which can hold the belongings of two children in an organized fashion made us decidedly more relaxed - versus last week when we were thinking something along the lines of, "Where the heck are we gonna put TWO kids??"

It also helped that I was successful at washing, sorting and organizing all of Peyton's old clothes. I purged just the right amount of "stuff" to assure I'm not overwhelmed later.

Today holds the intensive house-cleaning that has been severely neglected the past few weeks.

(I need clean bathrooms before I can go give birth. Is that strange?
(I already know your answer, Jen V.T. - lol!
Disclaimer: I will not be washing my floors on my hands-and-knees today!)

Laundry (including sheets, clothes and towels) washed, winter-bedding on, dusting, garbage out, fridge cleaned, and - of course - the bathrooms, vacuuming and washing the floors (with a mop!) are all on the list.

Basically, I don't want to worry about anything but sleeping and nursing when I get home. :)

Anyway... thanks to all who are praying for us. Peace of mind seems to be a harder thing to fight for as we get closer. Even last night as we finished the girl's room, I was dealing with, "What if..." thoughts.

But I am choosing to trust God with hope - which is pretty all-encompassing - be it hope that all things will turn out well - or hope that He has done and will always do what is best for us.

I'll do my best to keep you posted! :)

Autumn Remembered

It just so happens that the official day chosen to remember little ones lost was her due date.

Robert Munsch has given me the perfect words of reflection regarding my feelings on the life and death of my firstborn daughter.

"I love you forever. I love you for always.
As long as I'm living, my baby you'll be..."

"To lose ones parent is to lose the past.
To lose ones spouse is to lose the present.
To lose ones child is to lose the future."

--unknown

I know my future was not truly 'lost'. I still live. And I love my 2nd and 3rd daughters with renewed hope .

But when I look at this picture - especially Kurt's expression - I experience, again, how it felt to lose the hopes and dreams we held for her.

One short day was not enough for this Mommy.
We miss you, Autumn.

Bruised Fingers & God Thoughts

Peyton got her fingers caught in a door for the first time today.
The ironic part is that she was the one closing the door. Slowly, I might add.

She froze in panic - not comprehending the pain. All this while still leaning on the door. I was notified of the situation with wails and tears - and I rushed to the rescue.
"Rescue" only actually meant stopping her forward-pushing action - as well as finger kisses and the wiping of tears. My superior (used tongue-in-cheek) strength and wisdom literally saved her from herself.

It's a little comical, I'll admit. If she would have just said to herself, "Hey. I alone am causing this pain. I should stop." That whole 'cause-and-effect' rationale might have saved her from further injury.

But in an introspective twist, as I wiped away her tears and kissed her fingers, I wondered if we every really do come to that full-circle of understanding in our lives.

For example, I'm realizing how much in my own life I do the exact same thing as her: Create my own problems and then make them worse - when humbling myself and calling for rescue would be so much easier.

By God's grace, I want less panic, and more trust. Less emotion-based decision making and more careful thoughtfulness. Less agony and more resting. Less trying to solve things myself, and more asking Him to direct me.

Ahhh.... the revelations out of a 23-month-old's pinched fingers.

Anti-Stress?

It's funny how fear creeps in.
And I don't mean funny, "Ha-ha."

It's not like my world doesn't have the reality of a lost baby. I have friends all over who are living with the same heartbreak - some even more tragic than my own. But all these joint experiences seem to combine, at times, into a mindset where it is a true miracle that any baby is born healthy and alive.

I lay down for a nap on Saturday and got up around 4. Between 4 and 7 I only felt the faintest of flutters - odd for a baby who is getting pretty active. Crazy active at times.

So I prepared supper and played with Peyton and prayed. Ate supper praying with each bite. Bathed my daughter and reminded myself of Who gave her to me. I did some stuff on the computer with my mind and heart pleading, "Please Lord. Not again."

The end of that story was that she did - of course - start moving more urgently as the evening wore on. By the time Kurt got home at 10:30, she was causing my whole stomach to shift from side-to-side. I was beyond relieved.

I'm not ever in a place where I can think, "Of course she's okay." because I know that isn't necessarily true. Just wanting something to be fine doesn't make it so. Telling yourself positive mantras doesn't affect reality. Laughing at your fears doesn't make them irrelevant. When the world crashes around you, the anti-stress workshops seem almost comic in their simplistic approach to life.

This world is a place where bad stuff does happen. To think otherwise is kind of a head-in-the-sand approach.

So how does anyone cope?

In my case, it's Jesus.

Because I know He loves me. He has planned my future.
This baby, Peyton and Autumn are known to Him. He has given me all my children - but they are ultimately His.

I am known to Him. Whatever circumstances come across my path - tragic or triumphant - are for my good, His glory - and I will see that someday. I believe it - really I do.

He has humbled me and made me dependent. That's okay. Because just like chanting positive thoughts doesn't make tragedy disappear - thinking I'm in control doesn't make it so. How much better to embrace it - and better yet! - to embrace the One who has a firm grasp on the steering wheel?

Thanks to those of you who keep our family in your prayers and thoughts... it means so much. Keep up the good work! :)

I have no doubt that God is using all of that to keep us stable and sane. :)

The Bus Stop

I have always enjoyed watching people: facial expressions, the way they walk, dress... trying to guess what it is that has made them 'just so'.

But after a few months of university, it can get overwhelming to observe the masses. I began to tune it out. Stand and blank out... just think about my own needs, wants - stuff.

Several years ago I stood waiting for the city bus on College Drive and Cumberland after my classes were done for the day. I think it was before I started nursing - and I'm not even sure if I knew Kurt yet. It was what felt like centuries before my own grief and heartbreak shaped me as a woman and a christian.

As I stood there in my self-induced trance, a car pulled up in front of me and stopped at the stoplight.

It was a sports car: a black Eagle Talon, I think.
A beautiful young Asian woman was in the drivers seat, and she was crying.

Weeping, actually. She sat there and looked at the stoplight while wiping her eyes over and over as tears ran down her face. She didn't look left or right: and not because of self-consciousness, I could tell. She was completely caught up in her grief.

All sorts of questions flashed though my mind.
"Did she break up with her boyfriend?"
"She came from the direction of the hospital: has someone she loves been hurt or died?"
My heart began to hurt as I watched the tears continue to roll down her cheeks, and her inaudible gasps for breath.

I stood there and stared at her, actually hoping she would look to her right and see me. I wanted to somehow let her know that she wasn't alone - that someone - a total stranger! - had noticed her tears and was concerned for her. I wanted to knock on her window and ask if there was anything I could do for her. The logistics, however, of a busy street and a light that would soon change colour made that impossible.

So instead, I began to pray for her. To ask God - who knew who she was and what she was feeling - to comfort her. As the light turned green, and she pulled away, I continued to talk to God about her. The whole way home on the bus, the memory of her tears stayed with me.

Strangely enough, years later, I was the one in the car weeping. Going to the hospital to deliver my stillborn daughter I cried silently. I was not conscious of anyone or anything else - only my broken heart. But as Kurt drove past the bus stop at College and Cumberland, I remembered her and her tears. It gave me comfort to know the same God I talked to her about was watching me - maybe even causing a stranger on the street to pray for me as they noticed my grief.

I still think of her to this day. Even last night, I found my mind wandered to that afternoon: wondering who she was and what she was dealing with. I prayed for her again, as I have continued to over the years.

As a christian, it is pretty easy to simply reflect on myself. My goals, my struggles and weakness and downfalls. But I am reminded that the ultimate purpose of being a child of God while I am here is to reach out to others - and tell them about the One who held me when no one else could if they want to listen. To be with them in their weakness - and to cry with them. Especially now, after my heart has been opened to grief, I can ache in a way that I was never capable of before. But first, I have to look. In my deepest heart-of-hearts I want to be like Jesus - who looked at the crowds of broken people and loved them, gave himself to serve them and cried for them.

So that's my thought for the day. Strange and somewhat random, right? (chuckle)
But maybe you're in a place where you are just kind of existing in your own world.
Maybe you need a nudge - like I did years ago and still often do - to step out, look around and remember why you're here.

But just maybe. :)

I Love Surprises

I feel like I'm not even pregnant some days.
And then I get that little flutter deep down inside and remember. :)
I'm really thankful God made this little one so active so early, too - it is a blessing to my heart since I don't trust my own womb to keep him or her safe and insulated from danger. Feeling those movements remind me daily of who made this baby, and who keeps him or her safe. And more to that point: that my worrying doesn't do a thing.

It's so strange how different it is, though.
I spent hours in my first two pregnancies daydreaming about the future: the baby's looks, feedings, using the carseat... and the second had such a heightened sense of urgency. The summer felt like years.
And this time?
I'm get a little surprised every few days. I plan things to do this summer and Kurt will be like, "You'll be how many weeks along then?" and I think, "Oh yeah. No water-skiing this year."

I think it will (somewhat obviously) begin to make a bigger impact on me as the next few weeks go by. And then - baby willing - we'll be able to find out the gender at our ultrasound... which will make it more real, I'm sure.

But for now - it's kinda like Christmas every day. (chuckle)

The Season of Growing

It truly amazes me what spring can do for the soul. It's like everything wakes up inside me. Hope blooms.
It helps that the nausea is almost gone.
Even going to work isn't as hard when the sun shines down as I get in and out of the car - and don't have to take my shoes off when I go into people's houses. :) I'm uber-thankful that I'm not facility bound when this time of year comes around. I have vivid memories of watching at least 2 summers slide by through the windows of a hospital and nursing home.

This is all good, because I'm trying to work more hours over the next few months in order to increase my maternity leave income. After starting back to work (albeit casually) when Peyton was only 6 months old, I have my heart set on taking the full year off this time.

Kurt and I decided to get the nuchual translucency test done for this baby. It was never offered to us before - but now it's part of a routinely offered screen for Downs Syndrome. I honestly wasn't worried about that - I just wanted a look at the wee-one in all his/her squirmy glory.
The first test BManz III was too small to measure - so I had to reschedule for this past Monday. I am amazed at how much the baby had grown in a week-and-a-half. I actually said to the doctor, "Whoa. If it was a tumor growing that fast -" and she finished, "Yep. You'd be in trouble." :)

Seeing him/her made it a little bit more real. There is still - at times - such a sense of detachment from this pregnancy. I'm just sick. Or working. Or hanging out with Kurt and Peyton... and then I go to the doctor and see this baby jumping up and down off the walls of my uterus and think, "Wow God." and it kinda just stops there.

The strange (and hugely different part) of this pregnancy is that I'm not longing for it to be over. Unlike before. With Autumn it was our first baby - I couldn't wait to meet her - find out if she was indeed a "she". To find out who she looked like - try breastfeeding - do the whole sleep-deprivation thing.... everything new and exciting.

With Peyton there was such an urgency and longing to fill my empty arms. To hold my child. To hear her cries. Watch her chest move up and down as she slept. And that moment - still to this day the single best of my life - when she lay on my chest and took her first cries...
I can't even think of it without tears coming. How much I love the Lord for that moment.

This time, though - I am content to enjoy it. Having reached the second trimester, I'm not as eager to enter my third - knowing that it brings more fatigue, aching and - in my case - swelling. :) I want to savor the weeks with Peyton and Kurt - go to the lake, take walks, feel the baby grow and move and kick my ribs, find out the gender on the ultrasound, paint the room (yes, they'll share), drink a lot of dealcoholized beer (it's summer, after all - wink)... and to practice trusting God.

And yet - after all that - I also feel less "comfortable" in this third pregnancy. With Autumn I was naive. With Peyton, I felt somewhat certain that God would not break me again so quickly after her sister's death. But now... it's kinda hard to describe - other than to say that my heart's desire is to rest on God's goodness. To wait. To hope - preferably without fear.

I want to hang out with the whole passel of girls in our church who are expecting ( 3 within weeks of us!), and not be a reminder of what could happen. Honestly, as I've heard each joyful announcement, I've sent a plea heavenward, "Lord. Please don't let any of us be the one left behind..." I've done that. Yet even as that prayer is uttered, I know He both gives and takes away... and He sustains in both cases.

I want to watch God create this miraculous life - as He has done twice in my womb before - and simply marvel. He does not need my peace of mind to do that - nor does my anxiety hinder him. Good to remember.

So, only... counting quickly... 25 weeks to go. (small smile)
Thanks for your prayers, everyone.

Ski Pants

Just over two years ago Kurt and I went up to Elk Ridge with Kiley, Jessica and our friends Graham and Chelsea for a couples retreat through their church.

It was a good weekend - but very emotional. We talked a lot about our recent loss and the acuteness of Autumn's death was severe having only buried her 2 months before.

There are only so many things to do in northern Saskatchewan in January: sledding, skating, and hot-tubing, being pretty much the limit. (I do not cross-country ski.) So we packed up the appropriate clothes for the outing when we left for the weekend.

The day we were going to go sledding, I pulled out my ski pants and tried to get them on without much thought. To my dismay, they didn't even go past my thighs.

It wasn't so much the fact that they didn't fit - as much as why they didn't fit. The weight gain, the discomfort, the agony of missing Autumn, and the seeming uselessness of it was more than I could handle. I locked myself in the bathroom and bawled my eyes out. I hated it - my situation, my body which had betrayed me, my weight... Everything was wrong. And there was no escape.

I walked that valley. The memory makes me kinda shiver... I hope I never feel such despair ever again. For this, I tell the Lord my fears, and leave it with Him. That's enough for me today.

But two years have passed, and my husband decided he wanted to go skiing for his 30th birthday (only a week later). He arranged for his parents to come babysit, and he and I are going to go for the day to a local ski hill and just be together. Like a couple. Imagine that! ;)

But skiing requires ski pants. And I haven't tried those suckers on since that day over 2 years ago. I know I've lost a lot of weight - but that feeling of shock and dismay was still pretty clear in my memory - not an easy thing to shake when it's so tied to the emotions of the time period.

So I took a deep breath and pulled them on. They not only fit, but they were lose enough to squat in comfortably. Yay! :)

It's funny how little things can bring it all back, though. I have a feeling the rest of my life will be filled with little nuances like that. A little PTSD of my own, I suppose...

I told someone the other day that the grief has faded from a hurricane - violent and all consuming - to a sun shower. It's still there persistently - but it's gentle - and the sun shines through. Some days the effects of the rain are more obvious - but my sense of joy has become more consistent.

I have peace.
Wow God.
Wow.

That's even better than the ski pants fitting again.

Still Clinging

A random series of events led me to my own archives this morning. This post jumped out - and brought back both renewed tears, and renewed faith.

Some days I'm not that far from where I was one-month-plus-a-day after Autumn died. But the fact that I am still here - despite the weakness and sorrow - proves how real, faithful and good Jesus is.

Reading that post gave me a glimpse of how deep my grief was. Some of you were total strangers to me and yet you entered into my grief willingly and with whole-hearts. For those of you still continue to grace us with your love and care - thank you. It means more than I can say.

With love,
kendall

Cue That Paul McCartney Song

"Simplee... haaveeing... a WONDERFUL Christ-mas-time." (repeat!)
--
So I'll be the first to admit that I've done a super-crummy job of posting pretty much since we got back from BC in November. I did have a couple of rough weeks - but by God' s amazing grace, I've not only survived - but thrived. (cliche alert! ;))

I'm anticipating Christmas - time with family, mostly. And I'm so excited for Peyton to open her gifts. Last year was wonderful to have her - but let's face it: 2-month-olds are kinda boring. We just propped her up on a pillow and let her stare at the tree. :)

This year, however, is going to be awesome.

Thank-you, THANK-YOU to everyone who has been praying for us. I was thinking about that the other day as I was driving somewhere. What a gift it is to know that people care enough about us to carry us to God! It comforts me more than I can say.

I picked up a little stuffed puppy for Autumn's grave. If she would have liked puppies half as much as her little sister I think it is appropriate. I'm waiting for a warm enough day that our whole family can visit. Maybe even Christmas day... we'll see.

If I don't post before Christmas: Merry Christmas everyone!
With love,
kendall (and the other two Manzville residents... grin)

And Sings My Soul

Today while walking, this song came up with the perspective I need for life. This past week has been a battle, but God is using a lot of things to remind me of where he's brought me from.
My heart's cry is the chorus...

"Bring The Rain"
Mercy Me

I can count a million times
People asking me how I
Can praise You with all that I've gone through
The question just amazes me
Can circumstances possibly
Change who I forever am in You?
--
Maybe since my life was changed
Long before these rainy days
It's never really ever crossed my mind
To turn my back on you, oh Lord
My only shelter from the storm
But instead I draw closer through these times
So I pray,
--
"Bring me joy, bring me peace
Bring the chance to be free
Bring me anything that brings You glory
And I know there'll be days
When this life brings me pain
But if that's what it takes to praise You
Jesus, bring the rain."
--
I am Yours regardless of
The dark clouds that may loom above
Because You are much greater than my pain
You who made a way for me
By suffering Your destiny
So tell me what's a little rain?
So I pray,
--
"Bring me joy, bring me peace
Bring the chance to be free
Bring me anything that brings You glory
And I know there'll be days
When this life brings me pain
But if that's what it takes to praise You
Jesus, bring the rain."

*This song is on my list at the side: it's a random cycle - but if you click "forward" enough you'll eventually find it if you want to listen to it.

Tears

To all those who have been and continue to pray for our family - thank you. The comments and emails have been so good for my heart.

Today the tears came. The timing was strange, though. I was about to get on the treadmill and checked email before I turned on my blog music. The comments poured in - and just reading them, I broke down. I felt my way over to the chair in the corner of our office and wept.

I'm so thankful Kurt was here to hold me... but my tears brought such a sense of relief. The catharsis was almost tangible. I felt I could breath again - deeply and down to my toes - and that has been a challenge as the grief has built up over the past few days. I am thankful to my faithful God... I know I am not alone. I am blessed to have so many carrying me to Him when I feel too weak to do it alone.

I'm not out of this yet - but I am feeling the glimmer of hope. So thank you again.
With love,
kendall

These Shoes Were Made For Walking

I have to say that listening to the bible on CD while walking on the treadmill has been a really good thing. I can walk while I work my way through the Word - two things that are both necessary and enjoyable for me.

Score!

Then I hit Leviticus.

This is dry stuff, baby.

"Burn this."
"Don't eat that."
"Dress this way."
"Sprinkle blood over there."
"This is 'unclean'."
"This is 'clean'."

... yikes.

So, if nothing else, this section of scripture is making me unspeakably thankful for the new Covenant which says, "You can't do it. Jesus did it. Trust Him."

Score. :)