There's No Place Like Home

I am so grateful for this Monday morning.  There's just something about a Monday that begs for routine, and routine is what I am craving these days.  We've officially moved back home after a couple weeks in and out of my mom's house and the hospital and our own home, and I'm so happy to be back to the place where we thrive on routine.  There's just something about your own bed and your own dirty dishes and your own piles of laundry. =) 

Last week my mom came over and gave this house the deep cleaning of the century.  My home has never been more squeaky clean, Boris has been completely dominated, and there are happy farmer's market sunflowers perched in a vase on my dining room table.

It's good to be home.

Today we're enjoying a warm cup of coffee and a sippy cup of water and settling down into our new normal.  Things won't ever be "normal" again because we've grown so much the past few weeks.  I'm convinced you cannot possibly go return to normal after an experience like I've had.  I'll never be the same. Now we have a new normal. 

Our new normal is a place where a portion of our hearts is reserved for hope and anticipation of seeing our little one someday.

Our new normal is completely bent on clinging to the hope of Christ, believing He will hold us and never let go.  It's living for what is unseen because we know so well that what is seen is temporary. 

Our new normal is laughing when we pray over Newbie at bedtime and he folds his little hands as we rock in the glider because he knows we're talking to Jesus- our rescuer and friend.  I love that my little 15 month old knows when we're talking to our savior.  There is nothing more precious.

Our new normal is turning on Milo and Otis on a Monday morning and hoping it occupies Newbie long enough for his mama to get a quick blog post up. ...If history repeats itself, I have about 3 more minutes. =)

Our new normal is stepping back into our everyday routine with a refreshed appreciation for the little things and a renewed hope for what is to come. 

In the name of getting back into our routine, I have a fun post to share from our week of vacation on the lake.  At the end of June, we packed up the family circus and met my parents, sister and brother-in-law, uncle, and grandparents at a cottage on the beach.  We had a blast soaking in every sunset and sinking our toes deep into the summer sand.  Newbie was all over the beach and up and down the stairs at the cottage.  I'm not sure I've ever had a more exhausting vacation, but the effort was well worth the fun and memories we received in return. 

Today I'm wishing we had a big lake right outside our door.  The heat index is predicted to climb up into the 100's this week, and I'm telling you right now, there aren't enough Popsicles in the world to keep this mama and baby cool in that kind of weather.  If you have a pool, please call me.  We will bring the cookies and lemonade. =) 

Happy Monday!

Pixie Dust

Today the Hubs was home for a while, and we pulled out the bubbles because we love watching Newbie go bananas.  He has a bubble fetish, and it is such fun to watch. Just like he does every time, Newbie squatted down on the floor and meticulously popped each and every bubble he could find.  Each time he looked up from his task, the Hubs blew more tiny bubbles into the air, and Newbie giggled at the floating soapy snow, then dropped back down to the floor and got to work. Watching the bubbles float in the air always reminds me of pixie dust.

All it takes is faith and trust...and just a little bit of pixie dust. -Disney's Peter Pan

After the Hubs left for work and Newbie went down for his nap, it became a drop your toothbrush in the sink with a mouthful of sudsy paste and bawl your eyes out to the bathroom counter top kind of morning.

There are portions of this experience that come in waves.  The tears decide to show up at the strangest of times.  Brushing your teeth?  Check.  Trying to find a pair of pants that fit now that you're not pregnant anymore but not looking like you're not pregnant anymore?  Check.  Chubby baby picture of Newbie scrolling across the computer's screen saver?  Check.

My house has never been more full of tear jerkers.

But when the tears fall, they often leave as quickly as they come because I cling so tightly to the hope I have in my baby's story being so wonderfully interwoven with Jesus' story.  I know my baby is happy, and that makes me happy.   

When the tears hit the sink, I remember the faith I have in knowing my Savior lives.  I remember the trust I have that God never goes back on a promise and that my little baby is with Him; then I smile through the damp blur in my eyes.

I go downstairs, pull out a bit of pixie dust, and set it on the kitchen counter to enjoy when my boy gets up from his nap, because if there's one thing that brightens a day, it's those roly poly fingers popping away at the teensy spheres on the floor, his head unknowingly speckled in the very bubbles he's working so hard to pop.

(How squeezable is that boy with his diaper hanging out of his pj bottoms?!  Mmm-Mmm!)

(On another side note- Newbie is playing with Gymboree "Oodles Bubbles".  They last forever and are the BEST! Days after we play with them, we'll still find little orbs balancing on shelves or on dining room chairs.  They are such fun.)

Hoping you are filled with faith and trust today...and that you find just a little bit of your own pixie dust to enjoy this afternoon. =)

xoxo,

Brittany

Heaven's Riverbank

Last week my life changed forever through the resurrection of my sweet unborn baby.  At 10 weeks pregnant, I suffered the deepest loss I've ever known, and in the very midst of the most intense anguish and heartache, Jesus met me and handed me a hope more beautiful than I ever could have imagined.  The hope He gave literally left me laughing with joy in the torrent of the storm.  That, my friends, is the power of Christ- an ever present help in trouble and a hope beyond anything we could ever ask or imagine.

A few days ago I wrote about a vision the Lord gifted me.  If you missed it, you can find it here or by clicking on the "Eden's Story" tab at the top of my blog where I've collected all of the pieces of my sweet little one's story.  At the end of that post, I left you hanging, telling you there was more to tell- a portion of the story that had me laughing out loud begging the Lord to save some of the fun for me. I'm here today to close the loop. =)

In the past few days, my little family has moved back home, unpacked our bags, and prepared ourselves to settle back into our routine.  As I stumble through my house, I run into pieces of my broken heart.  My prenatal vitamins sat quietly on the counter top.  My maternity clothes waited at the front of my closet. The baby carrier and swing stood still in the basement, where I had left them since we would need them again in January.  A hospital bill.  A bottle or five of pain killers and antibiotics.  Little things here and there that remind me that my plans have changed.  And, while my heart squeezes at what might have been, my spirit leaps with excitement. 

It's inexplicable but for the hope God gave me when He shared with me what His plans are for my sweet baby.  I find myself aching to hold my little one, but at the same time, I am overwhelmed with joy and excitement for her and all I know she is experiencing at her home in Heaven. 

Hope beyond anything we could ever ask or imagine.

It is the kind of hope that wipes away the tears of the mourning mother and mends the broken heart, stitching together the shattered pieces with an inexplicable joy and warmth.  The cold and the pain melt and flee when the Lord's hope blankets me.

Let me share with you a small glimpse into what that kind of hope looks like.

The vision the Lord gave me was split into two distinctly different parts.  First, the vision revealed the beginning of my baby's story.  The second portion of the vision was entirely different than the welcome my baby received at Heaven's Gate.  As the crowd of children rippled with anticipation and excitement after my baby was welcomed by the few specific people I described in my last post, the vision shifted- the only thing remaining the same was the brilliant light enveloping all of Heaven and the presence of Jesus with my little baby.  I was still a witness to a beautiful story- a story I was not yet entirely a part of.

Suddenly, as the vision shifted, the scenery changed.  No longer did I see a city of gold in the distance, but instead there were far off mountains in its place.  The Spirit allowed me a moment to look around.  I was overcome by the beauty of this place.  My baby and Jesus were standing on the bank of a river.  The bank was blanketed in lush, full green grass.  The grass covered the ground and bowed low at the edge of the river.  My baby stood barefoot with Jesus near the place where the curving grass dipped down to kiss the water. 

The river itself was indescribable.  The water was a mixture of pinks and blues and silvers and whites, but the Spirit made it clear to me that there were more colors present that I was not able to see because they are a part of Heaven's secrets.  My eyes lifted from the riverbank and the water that flowed along its edge, and I saw the distant shapes of trees against the mountains across the river, but it was all very indistinct and fuzzy.  I got the feeling that God's creation was far more glorious in Heaven than it is here, and that kind of glory could not be clearly seen with my eyes on earth.  The Spirit confirmed that I was only seeing a small sliver of the glorious beauty present, and that there was far more details there that my little one was able to see in full. 

The light continued to outshine every aspect of the riverbank and its surroundings- there is simply no other way to describe the light of Heaven than to say it is all encompassing and reflects the very glory of God- radiantly full and brilliant and undeniably beautiful and pure. 

As I gazed across the bank and up into the light, with my baby and Jesus still in view, I realized the river and the bank was absolutely teeming with life.  I saw nothing distinct except for the beautiful flash of a lion, but the Spirit made it clear that there were all kinds of animals there.  Some were animals we have here on earth, but others were glorious Heavenly creatures our eyes have never seen. 

After allowing me to take in the landscape and activity, suddenly the Spirit directed my attention to my baby, still at the riverbank, and I caught on to my little one's excitement.  She was standing on her tip toes- lifting herself up as far as she could towards what she was looking at out across the river.  She was absolutely adorable, standing there, reaching for something with such excitement.  The most lovely part?  My baby was holding Jesus' hand.  The chubby fingers of her right hand were wrapped up in Jesus' grasp, and she was pointing out across the river. 

At this moment, the Spirit interrupted the vision and paused the scene before me.  Then He reminded me of something new that Newbie has been doing at home.  Lately when we play a movie for Newbie, when any kind of animal comes onto the screen, he will come out of his silent movie-watching state to squawk and point and coo and cheer for the creature on the TV.  The Hubs and I get a kick out of this, because Newbie is otherwise quiet through the entire film.  He just gets so worked up and excited about the animals he sees when they appear, pointing at the screen and chattering to us like its the most exciting thing he's ever seen.  The Spirit reminded me of this then brought me back to the scene on the riverbank.

I looked on, curious to see the connection...there stood my baby, on Heaven's Riverbank holding the very hand of Jesus.  She stretched up to her tip toes and drew up her left arm, squeezing her roly poly hand into a fist, then thrusting her tiny index finger out into the air.  I looked up to see what she was pointing at, and then I heard her coo and squawk and cheer just like her big brother does at home.  My little baby began to bounce on her tippy toes then looked up to Jesus to be sure He saw the same exciting creature my little one had seen.  Jesus smiled down at my baby, as my little one continued to point and coo and excitedly squeak at the creatures she was so enjoying. 

I couldn't see any of the animals she was pointing at, but I lie in bed laughing out loud because she looked so very much like her big brother and because I had no idea Heaven was so much fun. Through happy tears and stitches, I begged Jesus, "Please, Lord, please!  Please, please hide just one of those Heavenly creatures and don't let my baby see it until the Hubs and I get there so we can enjoy watching her laugh and squeal at your creation the way her big brother does.  Oh, Lord, it looks like such fun!  Thank you so much for playing with my baby, and please save just one for us!"

I was so delighted that the Lord delighted in our baby as much as we do.  I was so happy to see what a fun and exciting place Heaven was for my baby.  It was safe and new and wonderful, and my little one was enjoying her time there with Jesus so very, very much.  It warmed my heart beyond words to see how happy my baby was- her joy just radiated from her little body.
 
There are not words to describe the joy I have in knowing she is so well cared for and loved and delighted in. God is so very, very good.  And Heaven is so very much more wonderful than I had ever imagined.

That would have been enough to wipe my tears away.  It would have been enough to see my baby warmly greeted at Heaven's Gate by adults and children I love or to witness my baby playing with the King of Kings on the banks of Heaven.  Those images soothed my soul, and I could have left the vision with an unending joy.

But the Spirit didn't stop there. 

The next portion of this vision was so overwhelmingly wonderful that I have wondered whether or not the Lord wants me to write about this part.  Not because I don't think He wants me to share, but simply because I don't know where to even begin to put the next event into words.  This part of the vision is one I will forever treasure up in my heart- it is the truth I will cling to when I miss my baby so much that my very spirit groans.  It is the picture I will remember when I think of God's love and purpose and sovereignty.  It is what I will think back on and know without a doubt that God loves us infinitely more than we deserve and that He longs for a deep, intimate relationship with us.  Only a God who loves in that way would allow us the beauty of what happened next.  It was so gracious.  So far beyond what I deserve.

What I'm about to share is my deepest secret through all of this experience because it is just such a treasure to me. Telling you the depth of the meaning of the next portion is the only thing I can think of that will truly communicate the incredible beauty of the moment.  It was so, so special.

As I watched my baby bounce and laugh on Heaven's riverbank, my role in the vision changed.  Jesus bent down to my baby and spoke to her, then my baby turned her back to the river to face me.  I was standing a few yards away, and I realized my husband held my hand.  There we stood, side by side, on the riverbank of Heaven, facing our Jesus and our daughter.  I realized I was no longer a witness to this vision.  God had now placed me within it.

As soon as our baby turned, the first thing I noticed was her face.  She was absolutely beaming.  That's when I realized, and please, please don't miss the significance of this:  that's when I realized she recognized us. 

My baby, lost at 10 weeks of pregnancy, recognized me.  Oh!  The grace of God to allow me the indescribable pleasure and comfort in knowing my baby who I have never met knows me.  The thought is just absolutely overwhelmingly lovely.

It struck me then how very well the Lord knows me, and how very much He is a God of relationships.  He knows what it means to delight in a relationship, and in the same way I long for a relationship with my little one, He longs for a relationship with me- with each of us.  Beautiful beyond words.

As soon as I saw recognition in her eyes, a beautiful gummy smile stretched across her face. She released Jesus' hand and came bounding toward my husband and myself.  As she ran, her arms were outstretched, and her face was lit with an excitement far beyond that which it reflected as she admired Heaven's creatures.  Our daughter knew us.  She was moving as fast as her chubby little thighs could pump her, and she was running for us.  She was running for the momma and daddy she knew and loved, and the sight was more than my heart could take. 

I sobbed and sobbed and thanked the Lord for the truth that my daughter knows who I am even now, and even now, as she spends her days in the full glory of God, as she plays with her friends and walks the banks of Heaven's rivers with Jesus, even now, my baby is waiting for me- missing me and her daddy and thrilled to pieces thinking of the day we will come and be with her in that wonderful place, where we will forever worship the King of Kings.

The vision came to a close as our baby sprung into our arms, Jesus still standing there, watching us with the most beautiful smile on His face.  In Heaven my arms were full, and my Lord looked on and smiled at my joy and His purpose fulfilled.

The images faded suddenly, and the light was the last to go, and I was left lying on my bed, completely overjoyed with the hope the Lord had given me. 

The Spirit lingered then, and stayed for a couple days.  That is when the Spirit told me that I must write and when He revealed to me some of the specific people in the vision that I had not seen when I looked on at the crowd. Following the vision the Spirit continued to minister to me, and as I looked down at Newbie still sleeping silently by my side, I felt so relieved.  So excited!  Words cannot contain the miracle that is the relationship between children in Heaven and their parents on earth. 

A piece of me was so sad that my baby wouldn't know me- that I wouldn't get to know my baby and that we would be apart for so long.  But the Spirit filled that sadness with the truth that my sweet baby knows exactly who I am, and that the anticipation of my arrival and the arrival of her daddy has her bubbly with excitement and joy. 

I cannot wait for the day when my baby comes running for me in the fields of grace. My heart is so filled with joy knowing my baby is with Jesus, laughing and dancing in Heaven, pointing to amazing creatures I've never seen.  I can only imagine what a joy it will be to watch my baby be united with her siblings when they come to meet her.  It is all so beautiful that the wait for Heaven does not seem so long.  The ache for my baby doesn't hurt as badly knowing that someday my arms will be filled, wrapped up around a bubbly little one who will be bursting with excitement to hug her momma in return. 

I was given such a gift in the vision the Lord played before my eyes.  I feel so incredibly blessed, because I know not every mama gets to experience Heaven the way I did last week.  That is why I write.  Because these pictures of Heaven- snippets of what it will be like to commune with Jesus in the glory of God for eternity- these pictures were never meant to be just for me. 

God made it so very clear that He intends to encourage and gift this incredible hope to other mommas and families through the sharing of my baby's story, and it is my prayer that the picture of Heaven He painted for us brings you the kind of hope that wipes away the tears of the mourning mother and mends the broken heart.  I pray that the story of my baby's beginning offers a hope that begins stitching together the shattered pieces with an inexplicable joy and warmth.

I pray that through this story, Christ gives you a hope beyond anything we could ever ask or imagine.  And friends, if you know sweet Jesus the way I do, I pray this story spurs us on to share the hope we find only in Him- that those who do not know Him like we do would see His love alive in us and come to know the King of Kings- the one who mends the broken heart and offers the incredible hope and grace of Heaven.

Wishing you all a wonderful week, and thanking you again for reading and listening to my precious baby's story.  If you know someone who could use a story of the hope of Heaven, please share what you've read here- it was never meant for our ears alone. =)

xoxo,

Brittany

A New Day

Be still and know that I am God.

Psalm 46:10

Being still and resting today at the orders of Bossman #1 (the Hubs) and Bossman #2 (my daddy).  Drinking in hope, coffee, and a melody on this, a new day. Thinking about the special people on the front lines who have helped me through this week and the incredible beauty God hemmed in behind and before us as we waded through the misery.  God is so very, very good.

To my special readers whom I've never met and to my sweet friends who have reached out to me this weekend, thank you so, so much for loving on me and for letting me know I'm not alone in this. Thank you for reminding me that though it might not be the prettiest thing I've ever seen, it's a new day.  I have been so blessed by your hearts and your boldness in stretching out a hand or a hug across the internet, the miles, the phone.  Love love love to you. =)

Praying you have a blessed new day today, friends. =)

xoxo

Brittany

Only Just the Beginning

I have had such a week.  My journey with miscarriage began a week ago, and the experience spanned the length of 7 days.  For 7 days I grappled with the reality that I had lost my baby, beginning with small symptoms which lead to a trip to the ER Tuesday evening (the trip I wrote about in my last post) which lead to a visit at my OB's office Wednesday which then lead to another trip to the ER Thursday evening which lead to an outpatient office at the hospital early Friday morning.

Sparing you the details, I will say only that I was not spared the details of a miscarriage.  I was drug through the depths of this miry pit of loss, my journey's intensity only increasing as the week crept along, and I was asked to drink from a cup I would not wish upon anyone.  I didn't want to drink.  I desperately begged the Lord to take the cup from me, imploring Him to spare me from the depth of pain. But I did drink, because Christ first drank for me. 

I share that small glimpse into my journey this week because its important for you to understand a bit of my experience before I share what I hope to convey in the rest of this post.  I know its ugly and uncomfortable and a journey that leaves one wishing I'd go back to writing about Lucky Charms and laundry and beach days with my sweet son.  And I will.  But this week my world froze, and the God of the Universe drew near, even as He allowed me to be slung through the miry pit of miscarriage and loss and, my friends, I would be crazy not to share with you the secrets He shared with me this week.  Also, He told me I had to, so I don't have much of an option of going back to laundry and beach days at this point.

This post is forever long, but it's exactly what I am suppose to share. I've prayed through the entirety of the writing below, asking God to inspect each word and cut out anything that shouldn't be there.  I told Him it was too long and that no one would read through it to the end, but He told me to clam up and just do what He has said to do: Write it.  Write all of it and do not to leave anything out, or add anything more than what I saw and experienced because I saw and experienced exactly what He wanted me to for exactly the reason He wanted me to.  Write it.  And so, I have written.


In my last post I shared with you the truth that this is not the end of my baby's story.  Now I am here to share with you what the Lord told me about the beginning of my baby's story.

When I realized my baby's heart had stopped beating, I never doubted for a second where my baby was.  The Hubs and I are passionate followers of Christ.  We slip and fall and mess up more often than not, but the bottom line is, our hearts are sealed with Jesus.  We have surrendered our lives to Him, asked Him to forgive us our sins and all the ways we slip and fall and mess up in this life, and we received the gift of grace He offers each one of us.  He has made us new, and since we became parents we have prayed He would pursue our children's hearts in the same way He pursued our own.  We desperately want our children to know and follow hard after Jesus, and we pray for their spiritual journey and our role in that every day. 

So when I saw my baby's heartbeat was still on the ultra sound screen, I knew immediately where my baby was.  Though she hadn't stepped a foot on this earth, I knew she was with Jesus in Heaven.  I might have been tempted to wonder whether or not God scoops up even the smallest of babies and brings them safely to Him, but the truth is, I knew my Jesus better than that.  The Jesus I know gave up His very life so that we might be with Him, and there was no doubt in my mind that a love that strong could ever, ever reject the precious life of a tiny, unborn baby.

What is interesting is that while I knew my baby was in Heaven, I didn't know what that looked like.  When you're a momma, your life revolves around the days of your little ones.  I ached to know what my littlest one's days looked like.  Jesus, I know you have her, but will you hold her, Lord?  Will you rock her and sing to her and play with her?  Will you tickle her roly poly legs and delight in her belly laugh?  My heart longed to know that my baby would be cared for in the ways a mother intends to care for her child.

This is when the story gets for real.  Up until now, I've been giving you necessary background information so you know where I was at when Heaven visited my bedroom.  I'm going to just dive in now and describe to you what I saw. First, remember that I am writing because God made it clear to me He wanted me to write.  Second, I have to explain that what I'm about to share wasn't a warm and fuzzy feel-good attempt of my own to lick my wounds.  I wasn't trying to picture what my baby was doing in Heaven or who he was with or what it looked like.  I was simply praying and asking the Lord if He would hold my sweet one now that I cannot.

And this was his answer:

I was lying in my bedroom, staring at the ceiling Wednesday afternoon, while Newbie snuggled next to me, sleeping peacefully in the crook of my arm.  I had intended to nap with him, but my heart was too heavy with grief and longing, my arms too achy from losing my baby to fall asleep.  And so, I stared at the ceiling and prayed, thanking God that He had made clear to me that this was not the end of my baby's story, but begging Him to please please hold my baby, because now that I could not, it was tearing me up inside.

There is no way to describe what happened next other than to say that the Holy Spirit fell on me and God gave me a vision.  It was not something I was drawing up in my mind, because it was vivid and real, and I didn't know what was happening next, and the vision spanned the length of an hour, and I never have a continuous thought that lasts that long. I also kept checking myself to make sure I wasn't day dreaming because I was fully awake and aware of what was going on, but I soon realized what I saw was not my own. I say these things not to convince myself, but to help you understand that the picture I'm about to paint for you with my words was not by my own hand, it was painted by the very hand of God.

The first thing I saw was light.  A brilliant, blazing light that could only be described as glorious.  The light was so astoundingly beautiful- so far more radiant than any light we ever see.  The light was the surface of the floor and the sky and the walls. It filled the entirety of my vision. The light was white- purer and brighter than white, but we don't have the words- however, it was not clouds like we see in some caricatures of Heaven. The light was just everywhere, shining in a radiance that we simply do not have the words to describe.  Heaven was shining with the glory of the Lord, and everything was consumed by its beautiful light.  In the far off distance was the outline of a golden city.  I didn't see any details- just a shiny gold silhouette of  a city in the distance, because the light out shown even the beautiful gold of the city.

The next thing I saw was the profile of Jesus, standing near me, but I realized I was not a part of this vision- I was a witness to the event taking place before me.  It was as if I was standing at the Gates of Heaven looking in on a beautiful moment.  Jesus stood in front of me, to my right side, and I could only see His profile, but in front of Him was my baby.  My baby looked very similar to the way my son looked when he was about 11 months old.  My baby was clothed in a white cloth wrapped around like a diaper, and she stood near Jesus- Jesus was always near- but my baby was facing a woman.  Behind that woman, to the left of my vision, stood a crowd of adults.  I couldn't make out their details at all, but I knew they were there, a short distance behind the woman and watching what was taking place.  On the other side of my baby, to his back and to the right of my sight, was a crowd of babies.  Several of them were the same size as my baby, but others were older.  They stood watching as well, but there was a ripple of movement among them, and I got the feeling they were excited and antsy for my baby to turn around.

As I looked on, I recognized the woman as my great-grandmother.  Nunna, we called her.  She was Mutte's mother, but she looked much different than I ever knew her to look outside of old family pictures.  She looked young and vibrant, and just like the pictures I had seen of her when my mom was a little girl, which I later decided must be the height of a mother's beauty- when her children are grown and begin having their own children, and she is still young and healthy and full of a beautiful life and energy. 

My great grandmother bent over, and smiling, tickled my daughter, then scooped her up and snuggled her close.  She put her on her hip and nuzzled her little head and rocked her back and forth.  Then the Spirit spoke to me for the first time in words saying, Look- do you see?  Your baby is not only here with me.  She is here with others and is going to be mothered well until you come.  She's also going to be the best mannered of your children because look who I've put in charge of mothering her! At this I literally laughed out loud because my great grandmother was the picture of southern hospitality while she was here.  She was an exemplary house wife, and my family, to this day, still talks about her manners and the proper way she went about doing things.  I laughed because the Lord was certainly right- Newbie has no chance of being as well-mannered with me in charge of passing along proper etiquette- I tend to focus on other things, but I was so warmed by the thought that my great grandmother would be teaching my baby and loving her as a mother would since I could not.

Next, Nunna set her down upon the surface of the light, and she turned to the other babies.  I didn't recognize all the babies that were there, but I recognized a few, and I knew immediately that all the babies were connected to my family in some way, and I instantly knew the same about the crowd of adults standing a small distance behind my great-grandmother.  The first baby my child turned to was a precious baby who belonged to a dear friend of mine in Texas.  My friend lost her baby only a few weeks ago, and you can read her story here.  Her baby was the first my baby turned to, and her baby was so excited that my baby was there and that she was new to Heaven too.  Her baby was thrilled to have a friend who was also a new arrival, and her baby was bubbling with excitement about having someone to share Heaven with.  The Spirit then told me, They know that their mommas are best friends on Earth.  They know that you were friends when you were little, and they know that you are still friends now, and they are so excited to be here together at the same time.  There is a special bond between these two because they are both so new and their mommas so close.

Both babies continued to almost dance with joy, and then out of the back of the crowd, another baby came prancing.  I knew it was the precious baby girl of a sweet friend of mine who lost her baby through a miscarriage a few years ago.  This baby was a bit older than the other two, but smiling radiantly and gracefully coming forward to greet my little one.  My baby's interaction with this crowd of children was all so beautifully child-like.  The children weren't standing still, they were all antsy and anxious for their turn to greet my baby and the Spirit explained, The newer babies are excited to have a friend to share this new experience with, and the older ones who have been here longer are excited to show the others around-to share what they know about this beautiful place.

It struck me then how very real Heaven is.  It's all-encompassing of all the goodness of God and of the earth He created, like antsy children anxious to prance and play.  It also struck me how very content my baby was with my great grandmother, and how very joyful she was with the other children.  It was very clear to me that each had a different role in that place, and each was fulfilling that role as it pertained to my child.  It was beautiful to see.

Next, a woman came forward from the crowd.  I recognized her immediately as a sweet mother from my church who died from cancer last year.  I didn't know her well, but her two girls were in the Sunday school class I taught, and I when I learned of her passing, I felt such a heavy heart for her husband and her children.  I ached for the loss of the girls' mother.  Though we were distantly connected through our church, she was here now, and she looked like she did in some of the pictures I saw of her on her CarePages before she became so sick.  She was young and beautiful and radiant, and she smiled at my daughter. The Spirit said to me, She is telling her about her momma and daddy.  She's explaining that they went to the same church together and that her parents were teachers there and loved children. She's explaining that you are kind and that you both must love her very, very much.  And because she knows what it is like to be separated for a time from her children, she's explaining that you miss her deeply and are so excited come and be with her there.

Two things hit me: First, I was excited to know that someone was telling our child about us and expressing directly to her what we cannot- that we miss her so, so much and can't wait to see her.  Second, I was so touched by the relationship this woman had with my baby in Heaven, even though I had not known her well myself.  It became clear to me that the body of believers-the church you attend- is very significant.  There was a connection there simply because we were a part of the same church, and it warmed my heart to see God's love exemplified in this way- that this woman would have a connection with myself and my family, even though we had never been formally introduced.  Her story had touched me, and I was connected to her through the teaching of her girls on Sunday and through a heart burdened to grieve and pray for her family from a distance after she had gone.  And here she was now, bringing words of encouragement to my baby and ministering to my family, similar to the way I had prayed God would encourage her family and minister to them in their time of need.  It was a beautiful exchange, and I was so excited to see her there with my baby.

At that moment, the vision changed.  I'm excited to tell you about the next part because it was equally as beautiful and full of hope, and the next part left me in stitches, crying tears of joy and begging the Lord to please, please save some of that fun for me and the Hubs when we get there.  But I'm saving that portion of the vision for another post because it was very different from this one.

As the vision shifted and then ended, the people and surrounding faded and the light was all that was left and then the light slowly faded out of my view. My pillow was literally soaked in the silent tears I had cried while the Lord revealed this beautiful secret to me.  As I lie in bed staring at the ceiling after the vision had passed the Spirit said, Do you see?  I have shown you the beginning of your baby's story.  What you have seen is not all there is of Heaven- there is the thrown room of God and the songs of angels and other things you have yet to see and hear- but this was the beginning of your baby's story- a small snippet of Heaven I wanted you to see.  As I told you, when I took your baby so suddenly from your womb, Beloved, it was not the end.  She is with me and she is warm and safe and loved and cared for- and what I've shown you is only the beginning of her beautiful story.  And remember, Beloved, she will be here when you come because her story is a part of my story, and my story never ends.

I wept then.  I wept because I knew He had given me a special gift.  I knew not every mother who loses a baby through miscarriage gets in the incredible treasure of seeing the beginning of their baby's story.  I knew it was no coincidence that I had, because it was then that the Lord told me I must share the vision He gave me.  And He warned me that some who hear the story might think I'm crazy.  He warned me that some would conclude that I had drawn up a beautiful day dream to lick my wounds in the midst of a physically and emotionally traumatic experience.  But then He said I still had to share.  He said those things don't matter because there are people that He needs to me to write this for.  And that is why I am writing today. 

After the vision passed and God made it clear I need to write about it, I registered that I had not recognized every face in the crowd, but I knew they were connected to me in some way. Later in the week, I found God revealing to me who some of the others were, not all, but some, and demanding that I share my vision with anyone who He makes clear had someone they were connected to standing in the crowd around my baby. To be honest, I'm not sure why He wants me to do this, (asking me to acknowledge the specific people in the crowd He showed me) and I'm convinced some who I share with will think I'm absolutely nuts (!!!) but after all He's done for me, I have no choice but to do exactly what He asks.

I'm writing this morning because God told me to, and it is the first morning I have been able to muster the energy to sit down and write out the words.  It would be selfish of me to keep this to myself, though I certainly feel vulnerable entrusting the beautiful secret of my baby's beginning with you because it is so very, very special to me. But God has made it undeniably clear to me that He wants me to write this because He has a very specific purpose and very specific people whom He wants to know about my story and His role in it and the vision He gave me. If you are touched at all by this story, you are one of the ones He intended to hear.

I'm praying, dear friends, that if you are one He wanted me to share with that you are encouraged by the vision He gave me and the truth it reinforced: Jesus' love runs wide and high and long and deep, and those who love Him in return are a part of His story, and when they lose a sweet treasure, that treasure is a part of Jesus' story, and His story never ends.

Thank you for reading, most especially if you bared with me through to the very end.  Wishing you all a blessed weekend and looking forward to sharing the rest the experience I had this past week. 

xoxo,

Brittany

My Baby's Story

It's been a while since I've written.  My world has been turned upside down. Sometimes life is swimming at the pool and eating ice cream cones and shooting fireworks.  But sometimes life veers into depths beyond the beautiful day to day routines to a place that is real and raw.  I'm about to tread on sacred ground.

Sometimes we have plans. 

Actually, if we're talking about me, I always have plans. Type A over-controlling personalities tend to be planners.

The past few months, I have been doing some hefty planning.  Exciting planning. Planning that has a purpose and a wonderful result.

Plans like having a huge baby bump at Christmastime and hauling up the infant car seat from the basement and rearranging the nursery to make room for another crib. Big, fun, beautiful plans.

But sometimes our plans are not God's plans, and things change.

God is always good, and always right, and His plans take precedent over our own because He sees more than we see, and knows more than we know, and loves more than we love.  And so, with Christ by my side, I willingly accept a change in my plans for His own because I want so desperately to follow where He leads, no matter the pain.  No matter the wounds, the hurt, the sacrifice that sometimes come with such devotion.

My plans have changed.


Tuesday evening my husband and my mom sat in a small room in the ER with me while a doctor stood at the end of the slender gurney I was lying on.  His lips were moving and he held is hands out in front of him like he was trying to catch the right words to say.  I felt sorry for him. His palms were not catching the right words. The medical field has a horrific set of vocabulary.  He was trapped into telling me what was going on using only the insufficient terms and explanations he learned in med school.  He wasn't explaining God's plans.  He was sharing the world's explanation for a change in my plans.  And it was the most hopeless and horrible explanation I'd ever heard.  The world doesn't know what to do with a change in plans; the world says that a change in plans is where the story ends.

I stared at him motionless while he stuck horrendous words into the air, words that should never, ever be said about a sweet little baby.  Words that don't make sense when you're talking about a tiny person who has been tucked safely away in his mother's womb for two and half months.  My mind was numb as I looked across the room at him, and I slowly nodded to make him feel like he was doing a good job, to rescue him from the horror of telling a young mother that this was the end for her baby and her plans. 

His words bounced off my forehead and hung in the room; I didn't need to take them in, because I knew he was only telling me what I had felt in my heart- what had brought me to the ER that night in the first place.  Except he was saying it all wrong.  He had my story and my baby's story, so, so wrong.  He kept pinning words in the air that meant it was all over, painful words that would have stung if I had any feeling to receive them. 

I didn't cry.  I left my tears at home where I had told my mom and my husband that I needed to go to the hospital because something was very wrong, and I left my tears in the ultra sound room upstairs where I saw my baby for the first time and knew she wasn't there anymore because her sweet, tiny little self had fallen so very, very still.

I didn't move.  You can't move when you know your baby isn't with you anymore.  Everything in you becomes still.

I just stared at the doctor and calmly, politely pretended to listen.

While the doctor told me my baby was dead, that this was the end, a brilliant light fell between me and the doctor's voice, shielding me from the sting and bitter finality he tried to express with his empty words.  And as I sat there, rejecting the pain and sting of the awful words he was using to describe my daughter, the Lord broke through my mind- my numbness- in the most powerful whisper I have ever heard. It was pure and strong and it held my mind captive, blocking out anything else. The whisper thawed my numbness, and warmed me with truth and promise and words that were words fitting for such a time as this- not painful and detached, like the words still awkwardly stumbling out of the doctor's mouth at the foot of my bed.  Jesus, in a strong, powerful whisper broke through and said:

 This is not the end.  Beloved, your baby's story does not end here.  I've taken your baby home with me.  She is safe, Beloved.  Safe and loved and held close and warm and cared for- just as you wish for her to be.  And I love her, so, so much.  She is safe with me.  And you will see her again- she is still your sweet baby, and always will be.  Your plans for motherhood do not end here, Dear One.  This is not the end of your baby's story.

That is when the tears fell silently down my cheeks.  That is when I nodded at the doctor and thanked him and told him I was at peace and I understood what he was telling me.  That's when the doctor left and took his words with him and when my mom and my husband and I slowly made our way back to the car in the early morning hours.  And that's when I looked at my mom and my husband and said, "It's okay." 

And it is okay. Because this is not where my baby's story ends.  There are tears and sorrow and aching arms that long to hold and snuggle and rock my sweet child.  But the Lord's whisper left beauty tucked away in my heart.  He shared the most beautiful truth with me, too special for words- so much like a secret because it came in a whisper that the emergency room didn't hear.

But I want you to know the secret the world missed that night: Friends, my plans have changed, but this is not where my baby's story ends. 

Tonight Jesus holds my baby, and her story has only just begun.  My little one will never know brokenness or hurt or pain.  What a privilege as a parent to know my child is in the arms of the One who loves the most.  And what a gift my husband and I have in the anticipation of meeting our little baby for the first time when we walk through the gates of Heaven.  What a push to know and follow all the harder and more fervently after Christ. Never have I longed to be home with Jesus more than I do now.  I cannot wait to see my daughter.  I cannot wait to hold and kiss and snuggle her.  We'll never forget her, she'll always be a part of us.  And Newbie will always know he is a big brother to a sweet little sister who went to Heaven before we had a chance to meet her.  But he will also know that his little sister will be waiting for him when he gets there himself some day.  This baby has a story, and her story is a part of us, and always, always will be. I am overjoyed in the truth that I will see her again and that we have a God who loves us enough to offer us eternal life through the grace and love of Jesus Christ.

Don't miss the secret, Friends.  This is not where my baby's story ends.

And that is the glory of the Lord: His love endures forever, and His story does not end.

Backyard Fishin'

Around here, we like to do a little backyard fishin'.  Except we fish for rings and beach balls instead of fish.  But still, it's a really good time.

I bought this pool for 10 dollars at the beginning of the summer, and it has been well worth its weight in gold.  Newbie has mastered crawling in and out of the pool, and he loves going after the diving rings I scored at Target for a buck. 

 

Cheap summer fun, baby.

Wishing you all a happy backyard fishin' kind of day!