And now what?

If I didn't believe the power of prayer, or in God's ability to use the prayers of the saints to accomplish His will, I probably wouldn't post this update. It's human nature (or is it just me?) to choose isolation in the midst of difficulty--it seems easy. Safe. 

In this case, it's because we covet your prayers... and because there's nothing else we can do.

I'm currently 24 weeks pregnant, having gotten just a few days of seeming rest at finally reaching and saying goodbye to the dreaded 23 week mark (the week we lost Thomas). For me, despite that there was no magic behind that milestone, it felt huge.

Yesterday at our check ups (at both my regular OB and the specialists at MFM), we were told that my risk of pre-term labor is elevated. My doctors advised us to get the steroid injections which would help our little one develop in the *worst case scenario* that I go into labor early. While most of these doctors seem confident I will carry baby to term, they didn't want to take any chances. I am taking progesterone and continuing to be monitored in the event that labor begins prematurely.  If it sounds terribly unclear to you, then we're on the same page.

So here we are, in a state (much like the rest of the pregnancy to date) of perpetual limbo, unsure of what each day will hold. I have been given no instructions about strict bed rest, just a reminder to be reasonable in my daily activities.

And here we are, again being pruned by the One who is both the Gardener and the Great Physician.

Here we are, again being refined by the One who asks us, "Do you trust Me?"

Here we are, again being tested by our Shepherd who asks us to rest in Him beside the still waters.

As I've said before, I don't know how to do this right. What does it look like to be a Godly woman in a situation like this? I know that it begins with meditating on God's character, being comforted by His words and not the unpredictable words of the doctors.

I know that it begins with open hands to the Lord, painfully acknowledging that these are His children, and we are mere stewards of them.

But it's just so hard. And exhausting. And so here we are, asking for your prayers:
~ That God would protect our little one in the womb
~That I would carry this baby to term
~That the Lord would guard me from worry and allow me (us) to honor Him, even in this trial
~That God would help us to manage Eli in the midst of a lot of so many unknowns
~That God would strengthen Michael as he manages our household, our son, and me. What a task.

Thank you, friends, especially those who trust in our sovereign God, for petitioning Him on our behalf. The Lord has been gracious to place a Godly community of men and women around us, and we are so grateful for the confidence each of you have in the Lord.

The Land of the Living, and Psalm 27:13

As Father's Day came and went yesterday, Michael and I once again felt the void of the obvious: what we had envisioned our Father's Day to look like 8 months ago looked quite different than our reality. But then again, don't lots of people's Father's Days look different than they thought? His ways are not our ways. Ouch. While Thomas's loss still feels fresh in our minds in so many ways, God is continually revealing His purposes to us in the midst of it all.

One particular mercy that God has granted to us is the blessing of another life: a life that has thrown us for loop after loop and can only be a testimony of God's careful involvement in our lives. We thought that on Father's Day, Michael would be the father of two, Thomas and Eli. Instead, he is the father of Thomas, Eli, and baby #3, due on November 9th.

Without "oversharing" (an annoying and all-too-common problem in the blogging world), I will add that I'm not sure anything will be as difficult as this: carrying another child and living under the weight of fear that God will *sovereignly* allow us to experience that grief again. Any woman who has a clue what could happen in her pregnancy will agree that your mind can venture into some dark places if you let it, especially in a situation where it's pretty much out of your control. I laugh when I remember how blissful and carefree my pregnancy was pre-November 14th, 2012. Bad things happen to pregnant women all the time, but not me.

Boy, do I wish I had some quick and easy tips on how to do this well. I don't. And a lot of days, I don't do this well. I do a shoddy job of appearing composed, trusting, and hopeful. But like the Psalmist, I pray that the Word of God will be written on my heart, nearby and always ready to be used for my edification and for my comfort. I pray that God would consider my feeble frame and equip me to fight the ongoing battle of fear and anxiety. What we thought was a miscarriage 16 weeks ago is now a thriving, active baby (whose gender will remain a surprise) with an incredible story to tell. God has been gracious to us, and Michael reminds me often, when my thoughts drift onto shaky ground, to have a heart of thanks for what He has allowed in our lives, both good and bad.

So selfishly, we covet your prayers--whoever you are! We pray for a healthy baby, most of all. If you need to lengthen your prayer list, we'd be happy to add our names. I am confident that God uses the prayers of His saints as a means to accomplish His end. While we don't know the end of THIS story, we do know the Author and trust in His unfailing care for His children, even this child whose every breath is ordained by a sovereign God.

2013 Walk for Life

Back in high school, I participated in the Crisis Pregnancy Center's Walk for Life with a few friends. It was a fun experience, and I've said every since that I was going to participate again. Never have.

But this year, I'm resolved. It won't take long to figure out why. I have always been intensely pro-life, and Michael and I support the Crisis Pregnancy Center as they try to redeem the lives of unborn children. Up until this year, it's been a cause I've supported "from afar," if you will. But after we lost Thomas, it became intensely personal. People actually abort children at 23 weeks,and justify it? Doctors consent to that?! So many women who long for a child experience infertility, miscarriage, or stillbirth--all tragedies that these women have no control over. The two scenarios horrify me--one mother who has to bury her unborn child unexpectedly and one mother who just wants to "fix a mistake." What a dark, pagan phenomenon of aborting a baby (at any stage) when there's a woman out there who would long to be mommy to that child.

All that being said, Michael, Eli, and I are walking on June 1 in downtown Concord. Our goal is $500--I have no idea if that's feasible but here goes nothing! It will be a fun day to show our support for a ministry that must exist if we want cultural reformation. Here is our page where you can donate online-- $10, $15, or $100. Or more. Whatever. It all goes to a vital ministry severely underfunded and desperate for anything you'd be willing to give. Or you can walk with us! We'd love to see you there.

The Weight of Affliction

Have you read the story of Job? Probably. We all know how the Lord allowed Satan to bring Job great adversity, from his painful physical afflictions to the loss of all of his children and possessions. That’s about as bad as it gets.

In the end, after the Lord responds to Job’s lamentations by declaring, “Shall the one who contends with the Almighty correct Him? (40:2), Job says poignantly: “I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees You” (42:5).

Almost six months ago, this verse hit home. Actually, a lot of verses hit home, mostly the ones about trials, affliction, grief, and sadness. It was a dark period in our previously sheltered, rosy home. On November 14^th, we found out that we had lost our little boy, Thomas Kirk, at 23 weeks gestation. After not feeling any movement for a day or so, I chose to drop by the doctor’s office to check the heartbeat. It’s difficult to reflect on that moment when our world shattered and the waves of grief rolled in as the ultrasound tech just said, “I’m sorry, there is no heartbeat.” I sobbed violently as Michael held me and Eli, who had no idea what else to do but cry because mommy was crying.

Less than 12 hours later, and sparing the details which no woman should have to endure, we met our little Thomas, born sleeping at just over 2 pounds and 12 inches long. He was perfect in every way, and we wept over him as we processed the reality that we would never know him in this life. He was spared the very grief we were experiencing in those moments and in the days and months that would follow. Sweetly, Michael reminded me that Thomas had fulfilled the days on earth that God had ordained for him—and he’s reminded me of that every day since.

As we walked the halls of the hospital to go home, I kept my head down, painfully aware that we were empty handed. We had to say goodbye to Thomas and to all the memories we had created for our life as a family of four. Eli would never share his bunk bed with Thomas. We would not have the experience of raising two boys so close together in age. Thomas would never know his cousin Cate, born just 10 days later. While we ached for what wouldn’t be, both Michael and I were thankful for God’s protection over me during the delivery, for our incredible nurses and doctor who cared for us, and MOST OF ALL, for the strong assurance that Thomas was in the arms of his Savior for all eternity. What a glorious thought!

In the days and weeks that followed, we have never felt the community of Christ more strongly than we did then. Meals, flowers, and cards poured in—all of which I will never forget. We cried over and over again each time sweet notes arrived in the mail, written by so many different people, some of whom we weren’t aware even knew about our loss. I have kept every letter as a reminder of how many people took the time to minister to us. We clung to one another and to the promises of Christ that He would “heal the brokenhearted” and “bind up our wounds” (Psalm 147:3).

Like Job, I began to understand how little I knew of God’s sovereign love (and I choose those words intentionally) before we lost Thomas. The Lord had spared Michael and me from affliction of any kind. Chronic back pain was the most debilitating trial I had ever experienced. But this. This was the stuff of nightmares. Why? We had no medical explanation for Thomas’s death. We had no option but to trust that the Lord had reasons that we could only see through a looking glass, darkly. And in the weeks that would follow, we drew close to the beautiful reality that we serve a Savior who was acquainted with grief, who experienced sorrow beyond our own when He sacrificed His only Son on our behalf.

Our grief was real, intense, and by no means sinless. I wish I could say that everything fell together with perfect clarity and that I humbly and meekly accepted Thomas’s death the way Christ submitted to His own death on the cross. But I fell. Over and over again. And still do, if I let my thoughts drift. But the words of Scripture have been a constant companion, and by them I am continually being transformed.

Because this has been an intensely personal and sometimes lonely journey, I haven’t felt “up to” sharing with people. Hence the delay in updating the blog. But since we lost Thomas, I know of at least five other women whose dreams were shattered in the same way ours were (through stillbirth), and I grieve for each of them in a way I never could have before. This is a journey that we are still on, and as others join us (whether through experiencing a similar loss or knowing someone who has), I want to grab their hands, cry with them, and commit to praying for them in the very specific ways I needed prayer, especially in the days right after we lost Thomas.

 A Facebook friend posted this status back in December, and I was so struck by it that I recorded it in my journal, and hope you will soak it up as I did, with gratitude that we serve the Most Holy who willingly went to the cross for sinners:

“The incarnation means that for whatever reason God chose to let us fall into a condition of being limited, to suffer, to be subject to sorrows and death—He has nonetheless had the honesty and the courage to take His own medicine... He himself has gone through the whole of human experience—from the trivial irritations of family life and the cramping restrictions of hard work and lack of money to the worst horrors of pain and humiliation, defeat, despair, and death...He was born in poverty and...suffered infinite pain—all for us—and thought it well worth his while.—Dorothy Sayers

The picture below is an ornament sent to us by one of the nurses that cared for us that night. Those are Thomas's sweet footprints--we look forward to adorning our Christmas tree with this precious keepsake next Christmas.

Early Risers

Michael hates yard sales. I love them. Maybe it's the excitement of knowing you might find something you've been wanting desperately but didn't want to pay full price for. Or maybe it's the excitement of knowing you might find something you never thought you wanted but suddenly can't live without once you discover it's only 75 cents. $1 dual noise machine and clock--YES, PLEASE!

Either way, going to a yard sale is so much easier than having one of your own. Trust me. Here are some of my tips to you if you plan on decluttering your home via tossing it on your driveway and waiting on customers. And now I know for next time...

1. Proper signage. This is key. If, like me, you are hasty and reckless, you will throw some (brown) cardboard on a post and write all the important info in small letters, unnoticeable to the passersby. If you want a successful yard sale, use bright, vivid signs and bubble letters, or the equivalent. Hello! You want people to notice that something fun is going on at your house on Saturday morning.

2. Proper signage placement. If, like me, you are a weakling and you feel rushed to finish staking the posts in the ground ASAP because you have a toddler in the van sitting on the side of the road, you will likely not stake the signs in the ground well enough. One light breeze and the signs fall, ruining any otherwise effective advertising you might have had. Make sure your signs are secured, and that they are visible from the road. (Is this all really obvious? Probably, which is why I'm so embarrassed).

3. Don't expect to sell your stuff for a lot of money. You might think your beanie babies are PRICELESS, but if you really want them out of your house, be willing to virtually give them away. Yard salers are craaaazy bargainers, and why shouldn't they be? They rose early on Saturday morning to creep from house to house looking for a good deal. They should be rewarded for their efforts.

4. Be ready at 7. Shoot, be ready before 7 because apparently the most hardcore yard salers don't even wait for the sunrise. One man showed up with a FLASHLIGHT to peruse the items we were selling. My son wasn't even awake yet! This is crazy to me.

5. Have a backup plan for the insanely heavy items you don't want to drag back into the garage. For us, we posted the big items on Craigslist and hoped someone would come by that day to pick them up. Didn't happen, but at least that way you have options. Once you've nearly killed yourself dragging a piano into the driveway, your motivation to return it to its corner in the garage is really nonexistent and all you want is for someone to just get it off your property.

6. If all else fails, a sign for "FREE STUFF" will draw people. We did it, and that's how we got rid of our piano! Who doesn't want free stuff? Baskets, a bowling ball, luggage with no wheels? These things could have been someone else's treasure, but because of my poor signs, those items are all at Goodwill as I write this. Oh well.

Happy yard-saling, and next time you visit a yard sale, buy one item. For pity's sake. Just to satisfy the hardworking hosts. The smallest amount can go so far in lifting the spirits of the person who's been sitting in the driveway for hours, freezing to death. I speak from experience!

For He Knows Our Frame

So try to recall a situation in public where you saw the penultimate example of shoddy parenting. We've all been a witness--the poor, disheveled mother at wits end erupts in a fit of anger because her children are, well, being children. It's embarrassing, really, and you're never sure whether to hide from this woman's wrath or call DSS. "Shouldn't people be required to apply for this whole parenting thing?" you wonder to yourself.

But you've also seen, however rarely, those parenting situations that are, as Solomon said, "apples of gold in a setting of silver." These are examples of parenting done right that feed your soul in the sometimes dry and weary land of being a parent. This could be anything from seeing a father speak graciously to his son in public instead of humiliating him, or watching as a mother abandons a cart of groceries because her ill-behaved daughter requires discipline. These are examples of knowing your child's frame, or understanding his constitution.

Psalm 103:13-14 (ESV)

¹³ As a father shows compassion to his children,
so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him.
¹⁴ For he knows our frame;^[a]
he remembers that we are dust.

Psalm 103:13-14 has resonated with me particularly since we've had children, and it ought to resonate with all parents--how much wisdom can be gained from praying that we would know our children's frame! This text ought to have us ask a number of questions:

• How does the Lord know our frame?

First, He knows our frame intimately. He created us. He knows the number of hairs on our head (Matt. 10:30). He knows what we need before we ask for it (Matt 6:32).

Second, He knows our frame pitifully. I don't mean He does a pitiful job of knowing our frame, but that He has compassionate, gracious pity on us in light of our frail and fallen constitution and in light of our condition as dust. God understands that we are sinners and has pity on us, but what does that look like?

• How does that shape the way He interacts with us?

In His perfect holiness, God deals righteously with sin in His children, but He also has mercy on them in sometimes unexplainable ways. One of the most beautiful pictures of mercy in all of Scripture is that of David, a "man after God's own heart" (Acts 13:22). After rebelling against God in the most unthinkable ways, David was granted the status that only His Son Jesus truly deserved. By knowing our frame, God deals with us in the same way by teaching each of His children holiness in individual ways and through a variety of different means. God sanctifies some of His children by carrying them through tragedy and He sanctifies others by watching those same people go through tragedy. In all of this, God is just and righteous in all He does.

• How are we to transfer that to our formidable task of knowing our children's frame?

In all of this, I have often wondered what it takes to know the frame of our children. How can I be a better mother to Eli (and subsequent children) by knowing his frame? And how does my understanding of Christ as the perfect Parent guide my behavior? Though this is not exhaustive, here are some thoughts.

1. Know that your child is sinful. From day 1, children don't need to be taught how to sin. They are, in their own cute way, demanding absolute authority from the first sleepless night you have. Don't read into this that I let my infant son scream for hours to prove my point that he was NOT getting his way. I held him when he needed to be held, fed him when he needed to be fed, and I'm pretty sure he loves me today. But we will be wiser in our parenting for understanding that as our children get older, they will fight for autonomy and if left unbridled, that will spell out misery for you. This just means that it's necessary to address sin in children when we see it, the same way Christ addresses sin in us. Don't mistake a refusal to look at you when she's angry for "shyness" or inability to hear your command. Don't be so foolish as to think that your son is JUST trying to communicate with you when he throws himself on the floor in a fit of rage. Knowing that children are sinful is key to developing a healthy sense of knowing their frame and responding to sin when necessary.

2. Don't compare! I say this rather sheepishly. I'm the worst offender and perhaps this is what led me to this post. I shudder to think about how much more productive I could've been over the past two years if I had not spent my time trying to perform magic on Eli to get him to sleep. Curtains pulled together tightly, humidifier just close enough to his bed for the noise to soothe him, and trying to get him upstairs at the very second he appeared to be sleepy--all legitimate sleep training methods, but when they failed--oh my word, the distress that would ensue. "Why isn't he like ___________?!" "Why can't my son love naptime?" These are questions that might prove beneficial in ways, but our responses to our children in these situations will be much more gracious if we know their frame. By understanding that Eli clearly does not require two naps into his second year, I pray that I can be a better mother by avoiding the resentment that can arise when, well, you don't get your way with your children. The Lord knows our frame this way--He formed us all differently so that we might complement one another in the communities we're in. No matter what you wish you could change about your children, there will be some behaviors that simply require gracious acceptance. Know that God has given you this child for your good, and that you are required to learn his constitution if you're going to be a faithful parent.

3. Show mercy in the right context. Our culture has largely gotten this backwards. Sinful behavior that ought to be firmly and quickly addressed is excused, and trivial behavior that ought to be excused is blown out of proportion and sometimes punished unnecessarily . In other words, the punishment doesn't fit the crime anymore. This is because the foundation of faithful parenting, the Word of God, is lost on modern culture. In order to know our children's frame effectively, we must know when to show mercy and when to address sin. There's a vast difference between Eli being clumsy and knocking over a drink and Eli knocking over a drink after a command not to touch it. In both cases, the damage has been done. My floor requires a mopping. Again. But in the latter example, disobedience occurred and therefore requires discipline. Of course, it's not always that easy. Lest we think the Bible has explicit instructions about every parenting crisis we'll encounter, we ought to approach parenting with gratitude and a great amount of prayer that our understanding of Scripture will make us discerning in all the "gray areas."

All in all, learning our children's frame largely requires dying to self. What greater institution is there to teach sacrificial living than parenting? If we are to know our children's frame, we will be forced to let the RIGHT things go (beans scattered everywhere on the kitchen floor after you let your child transfer them from pot to pot) and address the sins that need attention. We will be forced to let go of selfish expectations about our children and love them regardless of their quirks. But isn't this what the Christian life is all about, anyway? It's only through dying to self that we can come to know Him better. And in the meantime, we get to learn those lessons through relationships with the cutest, most adorable people ever--our children!

My little climber.

As I write, I'm huddled up in the nursery, lamenting the fact that we have no video monitor. Yes, I know mothers for hundreds of years have survived without video monitors, but they also survived without air conditioning and I'm the first to admit I couldn't live without that. Admit it, neither could you.

The way I see it, transitioning Eli from a crib to a bed would be much easier if I could catch the little stinker in action, slithering out of his bed to play with his toys, without having to sit outside the door like a creepy stalker. BUT, on this, his first official day in his new bed, I feel I have no choice. He'll learn, I tell myself. Obssesively.

Michael and I debated when to make the transition and once we saw baby #2's boy parts on the ultrasound, we decided to do the bunk bed thing and get Eli used to it before the baby arrives. The beds were scheduled to be delivered yesterday, which is funny because...

Eli's a little monkey and finds great fulfillment out of climbing on, scaling, or jumping off of anything with an elevation greater than 6 inches or so. That's why I was befuddled that he had never gotten out of his crib. Isn't that the ultimate toddler--and more specificially, male toddler--challenge? I figured it was largely out of fear and figured hey, maybe we'll wait a few more weeks before we make the switch--he's clearly content in his crib and there's no need to rush it.

Well yesterday, after putting Eli down and turning on his rain machine (complete with 4 other noise settings, one of which includes a heartbeat straight out of a kitsch horror film), I went downstairs and turned the (non-video) monitor on in case he put his foot through the crib slats again. About 20 minutes into what should have been peaceful slumber, I hear the heartbeat on the monitor, loud and clear. That only means one thing: he's escaped, and on the day we're expecting to get the new bed! I crept upstairs and shot this video of him caught in action. Yesterday's nap was a bust, obviously, as he was high on the thrill of figuring out how to escape.

This, I told myself, is clearly a sign from God that it's the fullness of time for little man to be in a big boy bed. The Lord knew my mind was wavering, and He put me at ease by graciously giving me the machinations of this sweet boy at just the right moment, on just the right day.

And so it begins... in the last hour Eli has had 3 (maybe 4?) failures to resist the temptation to get out of bed. And consequences to boot... But he'll catch on, and he and I will be none the worse for all this training! Oh, and also, how did I get to this point of having a near two year old who is in a bunk bed? Where does the time go?