Back Home

     I have the day off today, so earlier this morning I was in the bathroom leisurely putting on my makeup and listening to iTunes. I hate getting ready more than anything, but on days like today I am at peace and calm. I like taking my time, and sipping on tea, and scratching Gatsby's belly with my toes as he lays at my feet. I was applying mascara of all things when Back Home by JJ Heller started to play.  I froze, the mascara wand still in my hand, and immediately began to cry. Now, I am pregnant, and could definitely use that as an excuse for my uncontrollable emotions, but that wasn't the cause this time.
     As JJ sang the first line of that beautiful song, my head and heart were transported back to a moment I don't think I will ever forget. It was 3 1/2 months ago, and Jake and I were in the car on our way to San Diego. A week earlier we had been told that I had miscarried the baby we were so excited to bring into the world. A week earlier I received a D&C. That horrible, horrible week had been filled with tears, anger, confusion, and emptiness. I felt so drained and pitiful, and was beyond ready to get away for the week and spend some quality time with my husband. It was a long trip, and neither of us felt much like talking, so the previous 2 hours of driving down I-5 had been spent listening to our favorites: Coldplay, Phil Wickham, and then JJ Heller. I had listened to her Painted Red album often, but as soon as track 4 began to play, I felt like all of the oxygen had been sucked out of my body. I continued to sit silently, listening to each word, with tears literally streaming down my face. My sunglasses were on and I tried so hard not to let Jake see my reaction. The week had been equally hard for both of us, and I didn't want him to have to deal with one more of my emotional break downs. Either I wasn't doing a good enough job, or he instinctively knew, but as soon as she started singing the chorus, he grabbed my hand. It was all too much. The sadness, the guitar, the beautiful words that spoke directly to my broken heart, the love of my husband, the love of my God.
     I gave in to the lump in my throat, and really cried, not worrying about what the woman in the next car thought of me. I finally accepted it all. Yes, this was a bad time in our lives. No, we don't know why it happened. Yes, I was perplexed. No, I was not in despair. Yes, I was struck down. No, I was not destroyed. I accepted the song's message. I would not get used to sadness. I would put my hope in what is true. My God did not leave me. He loved me. He was carrying me. He wanted me back home.
     As we continued to drive, I had no idea that in three days I would be sitting in an ER, 5 hours away from home, finding out that our precious baby had been protected by God and was alive with a heartbeat inside of my womb. I had absolutely no idea just how bright the sun would be shining on me.
     So this morning, with my growing belly pressed up against the bathroom counter, as I thoughtlessly applied my mascara, that beautiful song had a whole new meaning. God's promises are true. They are real, and meaningful, and amazingly fulfilling. Even if our trip to San Diego had not ended up the way it had, I would have been ok. I would have been healing, and maybe even pregnant again at this point. But that's not the plan God had for me or our precious daughter Brielle. I would have known no different, but now instead, I am fully aware of the overwhelming power of God and his promises. Whatever may come, and however the wind may blow, I know more than ever how faithful the Son is.

sugar & spice & everything nice.

Anybody who knows me knows my borderline unhealthy obsession with little boys. They're gross and weird and mischievous and everything else good. I grew up with four baby brothers, and even though I prayed for a sister during each pregnancy, after a while I grew to love army men, baseball, and bloody knuckles. Boys are simple and easy and fun.
Girls are unknown territory. I spend a decent amount of time around my baby girl cousins and niece, and they are the prettiest and sweetest things I've ever known. However, instead of asking me to pick them up and slam them on the couch, they want to play mommy and baby. When I make fun of them for having boogers hanging from their nose, they get their feelings hurt instead of laughing and wiping it off with their forearm. It's not that I like little boys more, it's just that little girls scare the crap out of me. They are so delicate and fragile and....well... sassy.
As I've documented on this blog, I had a feeling we were having a girl from pretty early on in the pregnancy. I don't know if it was the dreams, the sudden love for chocolate, or simply the fact that I'm about due for a girl in my life. Either way, I began mentally preparing myself for the possibility of having a daughter. The more I pictured it, the more comfortable I became. I mean, I'm all about ballet, and cute clothes and The Sound of Music. Seems easy enough.
Last weekend at our gender reveal party (which was so fun!) my heart stopped when I saw those baby pink balloons flying out of the cardboard box. I don't know why I was so shocked. I thought it was a girl all along. But all of a sudden, it hit me. We are going to have a little girl. A daughter. DAUGHTER. Jake and I were talking the other night before bed about how heavy that word suddenly seems. I don't even want to attempt to listen to John Mayer right now.
Now, even though I am still obsessed with stinky little boys, I can honestly say that I couldn't be more excited. Seeing the amount of love my husband already has for our precious baby girl is amazing. I know he would have been excited for a boy, but there is something about this girl that has him in a frenzy. It was precious to see how excited he was to show everybody that she looks like me, and how quickly he set her picture as his phone's wall paper. It's so fun to listen to his plans of taking her to The Nutcracker and introducing her to our favorite musicals. It will be fun to someday (if God's willing) watch Jake and our son playing catch in the front yard, but for now, I can't wait to see how well he will love our girl. Over the years of our relationship, we have, of course, had hard times and in our early years I would wonder if we would really make it through, but one thing I have NEVER questioned is Jake's unconditional love for me. I can't wait for him to show that to her, and I know he will be the best dad to a daughter.
We are naming our girl Brielle. It means 'God is my might.' We fell in love with the name over a year ago now, and after the circumstances early in the pregnancy, we decided that nothing would fit more perfectly. Leading up to the gender reveal, we flip flopped on boy names, but Brielle was always Brielle.
I can't wait to meet her. I can't wait to hear her cry and see all of those alien like images from her ultrasounds come to life. Jake and I always talk about how we just want to know everything about her. Will she love yellow and Audrey? Will she have my big mouth or Jake's sharp mind? Both? Oh gosh. She will obviously love to eat and ride the tube at Shaver, but everything else is so unknown and exciting. Is it February yet?
Until Brielle is here for us to snuggle and kiss and love, we will just continue to pray for and dream of this sweet miracle girl. God has already blessed her more than she will ever comprehend and I am so excited to see the plans He has for her. I pray she always knows how much she's loved and that God will always be her might.