It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon in the not so distant past. The kids were playing outside. I was in the bed extremely ill. From my bed you can see the front door. I was just getting ready to lie back down when I heard terrible screaming and crying from my baby boy who just turned 4. He had decided to ride his bicycle down our long, steep bumpy driveway and picked a bike that has problems with the chain. While he was in the midst of going way too fast for a 4 year old, the chain gave way and he flipped over the handle bars and went face first into a very rocky, gravel driveway. Doesn't he know how we have told him not to ride his bicycle down the driveway? How many times we have told him was too many to count. We told him he would get hurt and now he was screaming in pain. I remember looking out of our bedroom doorway and seeing a strong daddy cradling my baby in his arms and rushing him into our bed to me. He had a bump on his head, scrape on his cheek and chin, both of his elbows were ripped of their skin as well as the palms of his hands and his chest had gravel puncture wounds on it even though he had a shirt on. I was thankful he had pants on or his knees probably would have been terrible too. Needless to say, we washed him up, put medicine on his wounds, loved him extra and in a couple of days, he was back to "normal".

However, I can not get over how this reminded me of me in my Christian walk. I am pretty sure, you will be reminded of yourself too! How many times has God told me not to do certain things (you know what those things are.)? How many times has He told me that if I do them, I will get hurt? Yet, in my tiny human mind I think I know better, and I do end up getting hurt! I can imagine how Jesus must run to myr rescue, scoop me up and run back to my Father in Heaven and beg Him to heal me, spiritually speaking. God loves me so much more than I could ever even imagine loving my own children. How His heart must hurt when I am hurt and how eager He is to heal me. Yet, the scars remain. As much as He lovingly tends to my wounds, scars will still remain. Scars could be terrible memories that flood my mind, or maybe it's a physical wound, or, I could go on, but I'm sure you understand what I am saying.
I am so thankful today for a loving Heavenly Father who loves me unconditionally. May I seek to honor Him, please Him and obey Him in all I do and say, knowing that when I fail Him, He will always be there to rescue my hurting heart and soul.

Psalm 147:3 He healeth the broken in heart,
and bindeth up their wounds.

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Hello my blogger friends. I know it has been such a long time since I have written. So much has happened that I will try to fill you in briefly.

We moved to NC in September of 2011. Due to many different circumstances, we felt the Lord was leading us back to Knoxville, TN. We moved back in May of 2012.

In April, we found out we were having another baby. Jared, our current baby, has a birthday of 8-8-08. My hubby and I had talked for a couple of years about having another baby on a special birthdate,  9-9-09, 10-10-10, 11-11-11, but never had peace about it. Well, we started talking about having a 12-12-12 baby, since that would be the last year to ever have a special birthdate like that again. We never could quite decide if we wanted to try for that or not. Well, we found out in April that I was, in fact, pregnant. Wow, I thought. I couldn't remember when my last cycle was to even think about when I was due. So, I figured it out to the best of my ability when it was, entered it into the pregnancy calculator and couldn't believe what I saw. The due date came up 12-12-12!!! Seriously? Well, I guess God wanted us to have this baby and He even gave us the desire of our heart.....   a 12-12-12 baby!

We moved back to Knoxville on a Monday and on that following Thursday morning, I woke up and realized that I was bleeding. My heart sunk. I stayed in the bed as much as I could thinking maybe it would go away. As the day went on, I knew deep in my heart, I was losing this baby. This baby that I had become so excited about. This baby, this special baby with a 12-12-12 birthdate. I didn't want it to be true. I didn't want to lose this baby. Yes, I believe in God and Heaven, but I wanted my baby with me.

I went to the E.R. on Thursday night around 10PM with a little heavier bleeding. By 4 AM, we were sent home with the sad news that our baby was, in fact, already in Heaven. In my heart I was devastated, but still trusting that God is in control. We left the hospital with the instructions to follow up with a doctor tomorrow. We went to the pharmacy to get my prescription filled then on to the house. As soon as I got out of the van, I felt what I thought was the baby coming out. So, I rushed to the bathroom, tried to collect as much "stuff" as I could, cleaned up and prepared for bed. I had no idea what was about to come. The 3 older kids were with their dad, and 3 out of 4 of the younger kids were with friends, so fortunately we only had Jared with us that night. Because we got to bed so late, Jared did sleep in our room, but slept through all of the following events.

I had prepared myself for bed with a towel on the bed, etc. In less than an hour of being in the bed, I felt something "down there", so I got up to use the bathroom. As soon as I took approx 3 steps, something seemed to explode like a water balloon. I remember saying "what in the world". I got into the tub as fast as I could and proceeded to clean myself up. Hubby was starting to clean the floor where everything exploded. I had never experienced anything like that, ever. As I was in the bathroom, I became nauseous, hot, my heart was racing and I just felt weird all over. I pulled myself together and started helping hubby clean the floor.

This happened 2 more times when I couldn't even make it to the bathroom. The 3rd time it happened, I made it to the toilet. I remember thinking how wonderful that was. I cleaned up again then laid back in bed by my hubby and told him "I made it to the toilet that time". I was excited! The 4th time, I also made it to the toilet, but I really didn't feel good. I called for hubby. He came in and asked if I was ok. I told him I was ok, but then passed out. I came to and he was telling me to help him put myself in the tub so he could clean me up and take me to the hospital. I said I would help him, but then passed out again. Next thing I remember was him telling me to just lay down. I just agreed. At about 8:00 AM, I can hear him on the phone with 9-1-1. I wondered what he was doing. I tried yelling to him that I was awake and I was fine, but he wouldn't listen to me. I distinctly remember thinking "Well, I better just lay here now since he already called 9-1-1. That would be weird for me to be up and walking around when the ambulance comes!" Funny how our minds work huh?

The ambulance and firemen came very quickly. My blood pressure was 80/50. The EMT's were trying to pick me up, I said "Can't I just walk?" They laughed at me and told me there was no way I was walking out of there although I may feel like I can.

I was at the hospital for the rest of the day and ended up having to get a D&C. The Lord was with me through it all and everything was fine other than just being very tired.

On Sunday, I received a voice mail from a friend and she said "I just found out about your baby". That was the first time I had heard someone else refer to my baby as a baby and I was able to cry about our loss.

Since that time, I have still often wondered why God would allow me to conceive a baby with a due date of 12-12-12 only to take that baby away. My heart still hurt and I didn't understand.

Here it is September, and I should have known the sex of the baby by now. This week we our having a children's consignment sale at our school, and I had planned on buying much needed items for our baby. Would it have been a bunch of boys sleepers, hats and blue blankets? Or would it have been frilly dresses, tights and bows? Unfortunately, we won't know this side of Heaven if our baby was a girl or a boy, we just know that we love the baby and can't wait to meet him/her in heaven.

However, I was still having a hard time this week as the thought of this baby was brought back to the front of my mind. My heart still hurt and longed to hold a baby I never even saw. I still questioned God and wondered why. It just didn't make sense!

Tonight I came across a blog, which is what inspired me to write my story, and my heart broke. My heart broke for a little boy named Tripp who was born with EB, a rare skin disease. There is also another little boy named Easton who is fighting for his life right now with the same disease. As I read their stories, my heart was broken. Tears were streaming as I realized how God actually spared our baby. We do not know what was wrong with our baby, but I am convinced that something was and God was merciful enough to take our baby to Heaven so he/she would feel no pain. Our God is a God of mercy and I am thankful that our baby is in Heaven. Yes, that is painful to say. Our baby will never know sin, pain, hurt, or the evils of this world. Only God knows what He spared our baby from. Even in the valley, God is good!

I still miss my baby. I still miss the baby that I lost on Dec. 3, 1995.

But it is pretty neat to think there is already a part of me in Heaven!

DIY Valentine Popcorn Invitation ( for a cosy night in ) » Eat Drink Chic

DIY Valentine Popcorn Invitation ( for a cosy night in ) » Eat Drink Chic