Life

So, to tell the story of last week, I have to rewind a little and give a bit of the backstory. About 4 weeks ago Andy got a vasectomy. I planned to blog about that, but I was still trying to understand my feelings on the issue. We reached the decision mutually, but I was definitely the reluctant partner in the decision. After quite a bit of prayer, and being reminded multiple times about the danger of being pregnant and diabetic, as well as my lifelong plan to adopt, I felt really comfortable taking this permenant step to giving birth to children. I will say it hurt a little, because I love being pregnant, and I love breastfeeding, and I love those teeny tiny little toes and first monumental milestones, but I was truly comfortable about the direction of our future.
Less than one week after Andy's surgery we were in south GA, looking at houses for sale, exploring the Valdosta area, meeting up with some old friends. It was a wonderful time. We left the boys with my parents, found a wonderful house in the middle of foreclosure, put in a bid, and had the bid accepted. It was busy, and stressful, but all going according to plan. At the two week mark after Andy's surgery I finally stopped to breath and realized that I was nearly a week late. Yes, that kind of "late". Surely not! We were cautious. We had made that final decision, and done something about it. What in the world?
Joy of Joys, Happy happy surprise, I was pregnant. Two definite pink lines. It changed all our plans, but in a wonderfully happy way. Our little 3 bedroom house was going to be a little tighter with three kids, but no biggie. Our move was going to be a little harder, since I needed to be careful not to lift too much, or wear myself out, but no biggie. We found out on a Sunday (although I had been very suspicious for several days already). I spent that week making plans, telling many of my friends (but not all, so don't be offended if you were one who had not been called yet), already picking out names. I had a really great discusion with my friend Naomi about how scary it is to be a Mom, but how we must trust that God the father loves our children even more than we do. That thought in itself is overwhelming, because I can't imagine a bigger love than what I feel for my children, but I do believe in it. Naomi is pregnant too, and has five beautiful healthy boys, but she has lost a child in the past and I remember her telling me that no matter what she has to trust that God loves her children more than her. I completely agreed, still do agree. I think God was trying to give my warning, to prepare me. During worship on Sunday He kept reminding me that this baby, whom I already loved, was His first. She or He belonged to God first. I think I knew already then.... the bleeding started that night. I held onto this tiny thread of hope. The ultrasound was inconclusive... maybe the baby was just 4 weeks, instead of six. Maybe the bleeding was just a random fluke. But I knew. and I was broken. This huge question loomed over me. Why? Why did I lose this baby? What did I do wrong? Why did I even get pregnant, when I was content with my life the way it was. Why would God do this to me. I didn't want to ask these questions, because I know there is no answer, but they wouldn't stop coming. Then, my mom said the perfect thing. I think God spoke, he just used her voice. Bethany, God doesn't cause these things to happen. God created this world to be perfect, with no pain, and no sorrow, and no seperation from Him. But this world did not stay the way he created it. Sin corrupted it, and now things happen which are not the way God originally planned them. God did not cause this to happen. Sin, and an imperfect world did. Later, when I talked to my friend Naomi again she told me that when she lost her baby she could feel God there, mourning with her. God is mourning with me, and that helps so much.
I don't know what comes next. It has been a whole week now, and physically I am back to normal. It is almost like she never existed, which hurts too. Obviously, since I was only six weeks along, we can't know if it was a boy or girl, but I feel like she was my daughter. Her name is Anastasia, which means "resurrection". That is where we will see her, so it seems like a fitting name.
For now, I keep packing boxes, and cooking meals, and doing dishes, and giving lots and lots of love to my beautiful boys. I know that my family is not complete, and when it is time, we will find the next addition. Until then, I am trying to once again live each day with Joy. Happiness doesn't always come easy, but joy is unending. For that I am grateful.
We are moving to Hahira GA in about 9 days. Moody AFB, here we come. From there, life comes one day at a time.