weighty waiting...

I am 35 weeks. Or considering the fraility/amazement/miracle of each day right now, let me be technical here... I am 35 weeks, 1 day.
.
There are lot of feelings and emotions, and alongside those a lot of decisions that have to be made during this time. Some decisions I have never wanted to make, some I still don't, and yet they just have to be.
.
At our appointment yesterday it was more bad news. April's heart rate was even lower (in the 80's bpm) and with that comes an even more unlikely chance of her surviving the birth, if she does not pass before it inutero. D and I probably paced around the Dr.'s Office for close to 3 hours. We talked, cried, prayed. Our Dr. wanted to set an induction date or schedule a c-section. He believes it is time. When to know when it is time though, is something I really struggle with.
.
If the Dr.'s are right, and April won't be able to survive the birth, us scheduling a date and time is in many ways us scheduling the day she dies. I am conflicted. I am scared. I am sad. I am hurt. I am dealing with things I can't understand. I wish... I want... I can't... Eh...
.
It's just so much. But one minute at a time I guess is how we'll live it...
.
D and I talked a lot last night about what we want. If I am honest, I hate all of the medical stuff that has went alongside this experience; the tests, the machines, the Dr.'s. all of the bad news... It has been a lot. So as it is right now we are looking to do a home birth. It is not something either one of us considered in the past... Actually, I never consiered it at all until yesterday. But we believe it will provide an atmosphere for us that a hospital just can't. One that we personally would prefer. I really like the idea of having April in her home. We are still working out the details with this, but think this is what we will be doing.
.
As it stands right now, we have also decided to wait. We aren't going to choose a date to be induced or a time to have a c-section. We are just going to wait... That has been a weighty decision. Weighty because I know there is a good likelihood that by waiting and "not acting" as the Dr. put it, we may not get to have that chance to meet April alive. The Dr.'s believe our only chance at that is to induce/do a c-section asap. He may be right. But he may not be...
.
7 weeks ago our Dr. looked at us and explained how April's cells were too sick and had stopped growing. 7 weeks ago he told us she would not live much longer. 7 weeks ago he pushed early induction. Hmm. Have I mentioned that was 7 weeks ago?
.
I can't imagine missing these last 7 weeks with my girl. Which could have happened if I would have "acted on" my Dr.'s reccommendation at that time. (I really don't have any problems with Dr.'s. Honest! I am just saying!)
.
So right now we are simply waiting. Waiting for God to move or show us clearly where to move, if it varies from where we are right now. But for now, we pray and we wait. Will you pray (or continue to pray) with us as we wait?
.
I was reminded last night by a friend that whatever happens, is what God had planned since the start. There is comfort in that. Comfort that the God who knows the very number of hairs on our heads, sees clearly all of our unknowns. He knows how long April has. Not a thought, not a guess, not even an educated one. God knows it all. He sees what today we can't, and if that doesn't make me want to cling tighter, nothing will.
.
35 weeks, 1 day and I've never loved my April Rose more... I've also never loved my Jesus more. Funny how that works... No, perfect.

that "whole other post"

So, this post is definitely one "for the people..."
.
In my first post I talked about being a pregnant Christian, and how many people (unfortunately many fellow Christians), believed abortion was "the answer." I didn't elaborate too much and even joked about how that was "a whole other post." Well, since then, I have received a lot of feedback, both good and bad, and others just saying they can't wait to read "that post." I will probably be repeating a little here of what I originally stated in my first post here, but bear with me (if you are interested!) Here is that "whole other post"...
.
I grew up "pro-life" ... Whatever that meant. Hmm. I always equated abortion with being wrong, but being "pro-life" meant little more to me than just being what I was told I should be. It isn't like I really contemplated what that meant - as a Christian, as a member of the body or Christ, as a friend, as a sinner. I don't want to sound too preachy here. I am not a preacher by any means, and this is all my opinion. Just as a disclaimer. :) But many have asked, so here goes...
.
I do believe that all of life is a blessing. Of course, I do not believe that going out and having sex, while unmarried is right. I believe that is a sin. But being pregnant/carrying a life, that isn't...
.
When I told a few close friends early on that I was pregnant the reaction was horrible. I can understand that. Ya know, "Did you know that girl over there in that pew is pregnant?!" - Gasp! Ah! Oh, I can only imagine the thoughts... "What kind of Christian is SHE?" and so on. No, it may not be ideal or what was originally in the plan, but I do not believe that the pregnancy is the sin. See the distinction?
.
I have heard it all. I was actually referred to once by a good friend as "knocked up;" terminology I believe is both very negative and offensive. She would never of referred to her happily married self as quote knocked up, but me... Oh, well, for me it was somehow fitting...
.
I believe that my pregnancy and any single woman or unmarried couple's pregnancy for that matter, is just as much a blessing as the married couple standing next to me/them. We all make mistakes, but God doesn't. And like I have previously said, I do not believe that God punishes people with babies. I also do not think the answer is ever abortion.
.
Does being a single parent to a healthy or otherwise baby mean that the circumstances could be harder vs. the married couple? Sure. Though not necessarily. But it doesn't mean that the life the single woman is carrying in her belly or holding in her arms is of any lesser value. All of life is created and allowed by God. All of His creation is a blessing. And because of that... All life needs to be valued.
.
We can't be "pro-life" but simultaneously shun the girl in the church pew who has repented, but yes, is pregnant (I would go as far as saying we can't even shun the unrepentive girl in the church pew who is pregnant...). I believe that if we are "pro-life" then we need to make more of an effort to impart life as a core value among our friends, community, churches, etc.
.
But we can't stop there...
.
And while I say this being in this situation, I believe it needs to be said regardless. We (meaning specifically the body of Christ/sisters in Christ/fellow mothers/pro-life individuals) need to let those carrying the life know they are loved. The personal discouragement that I felt from "friends" and some within my "church community" this past year was enough to (thankfully, only) almost move me in a different direction. I strongly believe that when a girl is alone, or an unmarried couple is struggling with an unplanned pregnancy - they need support, not judgement. We need to be willing to set aside our own judgements and simply meet them where they are at, not make them feel worse off, less forgiven, more judged than they already feel from within.
.
In short, we can't claim to be "pro-life," and then be the first to throw the stone at the pregnant woman/unmarried couple facing this kind of situation. Life won't be valued and had, if the life-carrier (aka the mom), feels no support.
.
Some Christians circles may believe things like this are best swept under the rug. Some actually said to me "God knows you heart. He will forgive you if you have an abortion" (which re: forgiveness is true, but not right either). Others may believe that getting married is the best way to handle a pregnancy. (sidebar: I find nowhere in scripture where God recommends that type of response... Not that if it worked out, it couldn't be a tremendous blessing). I believe that scripture seems to be very clear that we need to be open and honest about our sin and make no attempt to cover it up. That goes for the visible sins as much as the invisible.
.
It is true, we make our own choices. I made mine. It is also true that God doesn't wait until the "crisis" (yes, I did consider my pregnancy such) to warn us. God speaks the truth and His intentions are always clear. He wants to save us from our sins. He tells us as it is, explains how sin will hurt us, and then He offers us a better way. I knew having sex could mean pregnancy. I didn't listen to Him and I did find myself in crisis. What a lesson in the misunderstanding of the severity of consequences and the power of prevention, right?
.
But even in the crisis God is there. All it ever requires is us going back to Him and/or repenting. I think as Christians, we also need to be there. And while I say all of this in regards to being pro-life and pregnant, I think the lesson can be applied across the board. Who are we to judge? Who are we to shun? Who are we to gossip about? When our sin is right there alongside the next persons? Visible, invisible, big, small; sin is sin.
.
Truth be told, I am completely incapable of living this life without completing falling on my face, but praise God I have a Savior who died for me. The very blood I made Him bleed, He used to cover me, and you. All our sins. All of them. So... "Knocked up?" ... No, just a sinner. Saved by grace. Praise Him.

snail mail

Many people have e-mailed us asking if there is an address where cards and letters can be sent. We were initially hesitant to set up something like this up, but have been encouraged to do so by friends who have lived through similar situations. Others have said it has been a blessing to connect with others in this way and feel their support.

.

We are in no way asking for anything, but do want to allow cards, etc. from people who are walking this journey with us, even if it is from a distance. If you have inquired about sending something our way, here are the details...

.
April Rose
P.O. Box #924
Oak Lawn, Illinois 60454

.
More than anything at all, we are thankful for your continued support and prayers.

We feel them and are so blessed. Thank you to all of you.

not my home

I have started this update several times in the last day and a half, but am not sure how to put into words all the thoughts that I have in my head, and all the pain and sadness that is weighing on my heart.
.
I guess though, I will just start with the facts. I had my Dr.'s appointment yesterday morning. I was praying, I was hoping, I was pleading with God that despite what our appointment before showed, that April would be showing improvement. I was praying that her heart rate would be increased, that she would be getting stronger, maybe even growing larger. However, I found out none of those things.
.
What we did find is that April's heart rate is even lower. Consistently around 90 bpm. Dr.'s believe that she is in distress. Her movements have become much less frequent, and in short, the Dr.'s do not believe that she is strong enough to survive outside of the womb, nor do they believe she will survive the birth process. She is too fragile. Too small. Her heart is beating just too slow. As D and I talked with our Dr.'s yesterday, we asked many questions and covered many topics... We talked about scheduling a c-section... We talked about continuing to wait it out... etc. Some new things, some old, but all answers that seemed to hit so much harder than ever before.
.
I have known the medical possibilities and in our Dr.'s eyes, "high probabilities," since we learned of April's diagnosis months ago, but I have never wanted to shut out the possibility of a miracle. I haven't wanted to solely plan for the worst and in a sense, or at least, in my mind, be limiting what God can do. I have been praying for a miracle, and have been so touched by all of you, who have been doing the same.
.
Yesterday after my appointment (and the foggiest visit to Panera/the most tasteless cup of soup I have ever had), I came in, shut my computer and spent time just laying in bed with my girl. I talked with her. I sang to her. I cried. I told her how much I loved her and how much I want her. I told her all the places I want to take her, all the thing I want to do with her. I lifted my shirt up and just ran my hands along my bare small belly, praying out to God. "Lord, please... This can't be it... I don't want to lose my daughter... I love her..." and so on. At some point, I fell asleep...
.
When I woke back up I started really dissecting what it was I wanted. It is a thought I have had before, a thought I am almost reluctant to write about, because the last thing I want anyone to think is that I don't believe God can heal April. He can. I know He is able. But the idea of "performing a miracle" sometimes doesn't sit well with me. Let me try to explain...
.
I have an amazingly strong friend, R, who lost her daughter a year ago this past week to a different Trisomy diagnosis. As she has grieved the loss of her daughter, one year later, I have thought a lot about how, while our grief is 100% normal and justified, it is only us that grieve for what is lost on this earth. R's daughter is in Heaven and while her parents miss her, and are sad and appropriately grieve that loss, their daughter is in Paradise this very moment, and isn't that what we all want for our children? for our family members? for ourselves? ... I know I do.
.
See, we pray for miracles. And miracles do happen. But whose miracles?
.
I know that if April's heart stops beating and she dies, she will be in Heaven. And I know that Heaven is the most perfect place. The place we all wait for. The place we long for, at times. April would be in a place that is so much better than this earth, and all of the pain and hurt and separation from God we go through in our earthly bodies.
.
Today when I woke up, I changed my prayer. Praying "for a miracle" just seemed too vague. Because my miracle is for April's heart to beat faster. My miracle is for her to stay with me until she is completely full term. My miracle is for her to live. My miracle is for me to hold her, raise her, love her, not distantly, but in this world. My miracle is to be April's Mom for the next however many years, on this earth. My miracle does not include a gravestone, dirt, pain and death. It just doesn't.
.
But...
.
God's might.
.
That is hard to type, but it is true. We don't know God's reasoning, or understand His ways. I don't think it would be too good if we did because then we wouldn't need to have the faith we do in the times of burning uncertainty. We would "get it," and things would probably require less faith with the explanations attached.
.
From this day forward what I want to pray for is His miracle. I want to pray for His will. Not my will, not my miracle, but His will be done...
.
Tonight I am sad. I fear every kick will be the last. I wake up in the morning, in the middle of the night (sometimes in the middle of the day!), and am fearful she is gone. I am so sad. I don't understand. But I am praying for His will, even if that means that I may not be granted the opportunity to raise April on earth. Praise God (especially today as we celebrate Good Friday) that when all is said and done, this world is not our home...

take me all apart and pull me closer

*Update: A sweet blog reader Crystal made a Prayer Button for April.

Feel free to copy the code on my sidebar and paste it in your own blog

to pass on the word to pray for April!*

.

I am 34 weeks today. It is odd. I honestly didn't expect to reach 34 weeks. At 20 weeks the Dr.'s were pushing early induction/termination so heavily. They seemed so convinced that April wouldn't make it full term, or even close for that matter. That same attitude has continued throughout the weeks and months. The appointments aren't ones in which much hope is given, and yet April is still here. 34 weeks is also odd because I do not look it. I am much smaller than most would be at 34 weeks and I have had no growth for weeks now, and neither has April. Her unhealthy cells first slowed her growth, then stopped it completely, but 34 weeks and she is still here, however small I look, however small she is; she is here.
.
I have known now for months about April's conditions, but each time a Wednesday rolls around and I can officially state I am another week along, the conditions become more real to me, as does the frailty of her life. It isn't that I know much more today vs. a few months ago, but today I am closer to meeting her, and not knowing if she will make it outside of the womb, or how long she will survive if she does, makes that day that much harder to approach.
.
There are a lot of tears, there just are. Most of the time I do not even know why I am crying. I suppose that is to be expected. Something I didn't expect - My life has taken on new meaning because of April. I don't mean a little change here or there, I mean a total life makeover. The experience has shaped me into something all together new. I am not who I was 3 or 4 months ago, and trust me, that is reason to praise Him.
.
I'll give you some background: I honestly never went through too much growing up. I lived my life, things were okay, and my faith remained untested for the most part. When it came to spiritual things, I did what was necessary and that was it. I only ever did just enough. Enough to get by. Enough to move forward a few steps. Enough to call it a day. It is hard to admit, but deep down, I never really believed that I needed God... I mean, really needed Him. I don't mean needed him for that moment, or for this specific struggle, or for him to grant that one "wish," if you will. I mean, needed him - day in, day out, every minute. I think that when you do not have to think that way, it's easy not to.
.
I guess that is why I am strangely thankful for this period of time in my life. I, for the first time have had to cry out to God, have had to completely surrender and hand everything over to Him. I need God. Not just yesterday, or in a week, or when the going gets rough, but I need Him today and everyday and I want Him always. Confession: I have never felt that way before.
.
Sure, I have always sang the songs and sat in that church pew, and went to those Bible studies. I have done all of that for years. I even went to a Christian college. But life was good, or at least okay. I didn't ever fully surrender, sadly because I was okay making it on my own, with God's help on an "as needed" basis. But April's life and my true need for God in this situation has forever changed me in that area. I don't want God to be an "as needed" part of my life, and I don't want to be His part-time daughter. I don't want to just stand still and just get by. I want to live my life for something more, and I am. And in doing so I think, for the first time I am actually living. Makes me think of something C.S. Lewis said... That tragedy is what God uses to wake us up from a life that would otherwise be hopelessly lost from it’s intended purpose. I am thankful. As odd as it may seem. I am thankful that I have been woken up.
.
Months back when I first found out I was pregnant, I remember just crying, but saying to myself, "I want to be the very best mother I can be." That was the desire of my heart. Months later, I still want that. I mean, I don't want the tragedy... In 3 days, or 3 weeks, or whenever the time comes to meet my girl, I want the miracle. I am praying for it. I am hoping for it, but I know that God is in control and no matter what He chooses for April's life and subsequently mine, I will be okay with it. Not to say I will be smiling or happy. If I lose this sweet little girl, I will scream. I will be angry. I will be so many things. I can't imagine. I don't even want to imagine. But I have surrendered. I am His. I know I will somehow be okay, because whatever happens is His design for our lives, and the pain, whether temporary or life-long is part of the process necessary to make me the daughter that I am to become.
.
I am 34 weeks today, April is still here, and I am a full-time daughter to my full-time Father. Praise Him.

past the ceiling

Well, If I am honest, I have spent the majority of the last few days in bed. Kind of just "one of those days." Well, x 2. Let me rewind to Friday...

.

It started off good. Thanks to my amazing friend C, who got me a gift certificate at place called "Stork Snapshots" I was able to go in and have a 3D/4D ultrasound done. It was so awesome to see my sweet little girl, so completely alive. The footage and still images are ones I will forever cherish, no matter what happens in the end. But, though it was undeniably awesome, it was also unexpectedly hard.
.

Part of the hardness was just the mental/emotional side of it. Watching April move and make faces, and seeing her so alive, left me wondering if I would ever see her that way, outside of my belly - in real life, not just on a screen. I remember during her first ultrasound, before anything was ever deemed "wrong," a million thoughts about the future flooded me. I am sure that is natural. You think, "Oh I think she has my lips" ... or ... "I wonder if she will have my color hair," and so on. When you get that glimpse inside, you wonder so much about the future. That part of it made the whole experience the other day rather bitter-sweet. I loved seeing her, I absolutely loved it, but I don't want that to be the last time I see her kicking or waving, or smiling (yes, she smiled, and yes, it was amazing!)

.

Another hard part was the medical side of it. While the sonographer was doing her thing, she mentioned to us several times that there was not much movement, etc.. To us, April was moving all around, but to her it was limited, and since she does ultrasounds day in and day out, I will take her word on the fact that it was a noticeable difference that her quote normal scans. We (D and I; D = April's father, supporter, friend) explained to her April's conditions and for the most part the comments stopped. But before we left, she did recommend that we contact our Dr. just to make sure everything was okay. She seemed pretty convinced things were not (even after being informed about her conditions). I was upset, but was determined not to let her assumptions ruin such a great experience.

.
Later that evening, we did have the Dr. paged and I did talk with him. He wasn't as alarmed as the woman before him was, and we set up an appointment for yesterday morning. Honestly, I really wasn't that alarmed either. Well, not until late that night, but once the nerves hit, that was it. I literally did not sleep a minute. I tossed and turned, watched old "Office" episodes, and infomercials for "Malibu Pilates" and the "Tobi Iron Steamer." I am sure you get the picture... Restless. Completely.
.
I finally gave in about 7:00 a.m. and just got up and ready for the appointment, and a few hours later we met with the Dr. and it was confirmed; April's heart rate is low. Too low. She has had dips in her rate the last few weeks, but it has just been dips, and then back to a safe range. yesterday her heart rate was just a tad over 100, consistently, and once that fact was determined, my mood went from a bit crabby and a lot tired, to just completely re-broken.
.

D and I waited and waited in that Office, while our Dr. spoke with another Dr. and then called, I believe yet another. In the end, he came back in and spoke with us about inducing. Now that isn't a surprise, it has actually been a frequent topic with our Dr. and is something he has always pushed, but this time his reasons were more substantiated than the whole "This will be easier" ... "She most likely won't live anyways" routine.

.
The Dr.'s believe that April is under stress in the womb right now, and that coupled with her low heart rate just isn't good. He started talking to us about setting up a time to induce, as in, the next few days...

.
Pause.

.
The next few days? ... Oh, a million thoughts rushed over me, spanning from, "I am not ready," to "I don't want to," to "It is too early, I don't think she is strong enough yet," back to "I am not ready," and so on.

.
The Dr.'s bottom line speech, went a little something like... If I induce now I may have a better chance of meeting her alive... He believes at this rate, with her heart, she will die soon inutero if we wait and do nothing. He also doesn't seem to think I have much time to make the decision. His belief being that with the combination of her stress and already low heart rate, if it gets any lower, she will likely not make it through the birth process alive, because it will just be too much for her tiny body.

.
Deep breath.

.
How do you listen to that? How do you weigh those kinds of options? How do you know what is best? How do you make that decision? I am pretty sure that I would rather decide anything else...

.
I fear regret in every corner. Like, if we induce in an attempt to meet her alive, and she dies in the process, I would regret that we induced. If we don't induce and she passes inside me, I will regret that we didn't induce, and so the cycle goes. The only option that doesn't take me through that hideous cycle is the hope for a miracle.
.
Sigh.

.
I got home yesterday and just layed down in bed, feeling April move inside of me, poking her, and feeling her poke or push or gesture back at me. I just sobbed. Some days I am okay. Actually most days I am. Of course, okay doesn't mean I am smiling ear to ear or laughing uncontrollably, but for the most part, I am alright. I have had an on and off peace about things, and I also try to just fill my time up with other things, to distract myself from thinking through the realities that are my life right now. But currently, walking the line between the practical and miracle mentalities are so very hard on my heart...

.

I never want to limit what God can do, but I don't want to be unrealistic. I don't want to prepare myself for April beating the odds, and then have her not beat them at all. I also don't want this time to be so full of grief and questions and sadness, especially if this really is it.

.

I fell asleep last night praying. Well, I think it was a combination of crying and praying myself to sleep. There are decisions to be made in the very immediate future, and everything is just surreal, like my days are just fogs, in so many ways. But I do believe what God says; “You will seek me and find me when you seek with all your heart." I know that truth, in my mind, but I don’t believe I have ever sought with my entire heart before now. It hasn't been necessary. Now it is.

.

This morning I got out of bed and went to Church. I will admit here that I really, really did not want to go. The irony is that today's whole service was about thanksgiving and praising God in the storms. Ironic, huh? ... Nah, just God.

.

The service was a much needed reminder, both in the spoken word, as well as the stirrings in my heart during the worship. I don't know how many of you are like me, but I sing praise and worship songs all the time. Actually, the last several weeks, it has been quite intentional that I am constantly playing Christian music, so that when I am angry, or laying down or cleaning, or grieving, the words on my lips are the words I do believe, despite the circumstances surrounding me. But I guess when you have mastered the lyrics to Jeremy Camp and Mercy Me and Chris Tomlin, and are just singing the words, you do it without much thought behind it, at least most of the time.

.

This morning a simple song got me. "God is so good." - As that line that came up on the big screen this morning, and I stood there looking up at it, I got choked up and my lips stopped moving for a few moments. Inside my head, as everyone around me was singing, I thought, "Really, is He?" ... "Is he so good?" ... "If He was so good, why this?" ... "So good? Come on. Do all these people even believe that?" ... Yeah, I have thoughts like that, and much worse. But for the second verse I forced myself to sing words that were just plainly not my heart (in that moment). Not "forced" as in I "had" to, or that I don't believe the words, but more so, like, right now I am unsure how to sing words such as "God is so good," or "He loves me so" or others similar. I know, head and heart, that God does love me and is so good, but wow is it hard to sing and say those words when I am simultaneously broken and grieving in the way I am.

.

I imagine I will be "forcibly" singing songs like I did this morning, for awhile. Maybe it is good though... Maybe it is okay to feel this way and to speak or sing these kinds of words in these times, however "forced." Maybe they can serve more so as a reminder of what I do know and believe in better days, or desire to know, some day. I know God is so good, even if in this moment I do not feel it.

.

Anyways, I don't have some great conclusion to all of these ramblings. But, I would ask for continued prayer. I am not sure what is going to happen with my sweet little girl. I don't know what medically is the appropriate route. I don't hear anything from God yet, either way. I just don't know. But either decisions will be made, nature's course will kick in, or God will intervene. In the meantime, my heart and mind are heavy as I weigh options that are harder than I could have ever prepared for.
.

He isn't rich, but he's not hard up.

Everyone says he's always had good luck

but he doesn't put his faith in god's of chance,

says he don't believe in coincidence.

.
I say, what's up your sleeve? and I check his arm.

He says it ain't magic tricks, it ain't a lucky charm.

He points to the holes in his worn out jeans,

and I see through to calluses on both his knees. And I see what he means...

.
He says, it's more than emotion or reciting a prayer.

No eloquence needed. Volume won't get you there.

You can cry on an altar or stir up a feeling,

but if you don't believe it can happen, it won't get past the ceiling...

.

.

sunshine in the midst of the storm

I am not even sure what to say. I never thought people would even read this thing, and today, the response has been so overwhelming. I feel so, so blessed...
.
I wasn't by my computer all morning, and when I came back to it and clicked refresh after lunch, to see if I had another comment or two, I had like 50... As I read through every one's kind words, I cried, I prayed, I smiled, and just felt so thankful, and so humbled. Thankful that people are praying for us. Humbled that my words could resonate with or touch others. Your responses left me speechless, and I saw God so clearly through your supporting words. Today, you were my sunshine. Thank you. It was just what I needed...
.
Between last night and mid-day today, I had some really difficult hours. I didn't fall asleep until almost 5:00 a.m. and was up 2 hours later. My mind just wouldn't shut off, the fear just wouldn't go away, and sleep was just impossible, and subsequently my whole day, a little off.
.
It really is a surreal thing to be in the midst of deep grief, but know that you are (most likely) just at the beginning. The whole process of "knowing" medical facts and carrying a kicking, living little girl, who is so alive today (but you do not know for how long) is indescribable. It is another surreal thing to have to balance your heart and mind between the practical and the miracle. I mean, I know miracles still happen, every day, but can I really hope one will happen here? to her? to me? Can I really place all my eggs in that basket? And reversely, can I believe strictly what the tests say? Can I go on about my days and nights, really believing this is it? Am I limiting (in my mind) what God is capable of? - The scenarios, the thoughts, the questions, the possibilities, the what if's... It is such a line to walk and so much to sort through; all so overwhelming.
.
I know that God's plans are not always ours. I know, I know, I know that sometimes what is seemingly "best," or what seems like the "miracle" just isn't part of His plan. I don't understand His ways, but I don't have to. I know that this could in fact, be it. And that is, again, surreal. I try and prepare for that "worst case scenario," I try to prepare myself a little more every day, but when the day is done, and the lights go out, and my mind starts up even more, the realizations of my unpreparedness hit me so hard...
.
At some point I do eventually fall asleep and the morning comes again, and I open my eyes and breathe as deep as I can; I watch my own chest rise and fall. And then I sit up slowly and look out the window and wait….I wait because what I have learned in all of this, is that I can't take on the day alone. I literally can't. I can't even get out of bed some mornings. So I wait for what I know to come. Despite all of my trips and falls, I know that God is here, even in this. It is so easy to feel that He isn't, or that He doesn't care (and believe me, I regularly battle those thoughts!), or that just because I hurt it is a bad thing. It is a bad thing, in regards to my feelings and the pain, but what it ultimately comes down to for me is this question. - Do I believe that God has plans for me and for my daughter, regardless of if April lives here, or goes home earlier than I would like? The answer is yes, I do.
.
The last year and a half or so has been one raging storm for me. So much has happened and now this... No, it doesn't seem fair, it doesn't seem right, it seems all too much, but I do believe that this storm is God's place, and no mistake. That isn't easy to believe, and some days if I am honest, I don't want to be believe it. There has been a lot of pain, a lot of screaming, a lot of anger, a lot of sin, a lot of distrust, a lot of fear, a lot of blaming the last 15 months of my life, with so, so much of that being since April's diagnosis, but God has continually shown Himself to me.
.
Of course there are still the days, and the nights, like last, in which I question "Why?" and blame... "Why are You doing this God?" ... "How can this possibly be Your plan?" ... You know, all the "Why did You?" ... "Why didn't You?" I felt like that last night. I felt like that this morning, but God changed that when I clicked refresh on my computer this afternoon to see my blog page. My questions suddenly became, "God, how did You do this?" ... "How did You bring these people my way?"
.
Isn't it so easy to be negative? To only see the rain? It made me re-focus, and ultimately realize how quickly I forget that God weeps too. "Jesus wept." Sometimes, just reflecting on those 2 words get me... I mean, Jesus wept. In that shortest verse in the Bible I see so much of my Savior's heart, and it is incredible, isn't it?
.
Yes, I am scared and broken and, well, tired... Physically, emotionally, mentally, etc. Things are surreal. Life seems to be on pause in so many ways, and yet in so many ways I don't want to push play. I am terrified. I don't ever want to feel a last kick or kiss my baby one last time. I don't want to face this future. I just don't. But isn't it amazing that the God who already knows this, fast-forwarded to the end, the almighty Creator of the Heavens, comes alongside us, in our pain and wraps His arms around us and weeps with us? That is unreal. That is grace. And that is what I want to keep my focus on. Again, thank you all so much for the warmth you brought me today...
.

"Therefore we do not lose heart, but though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by day. For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison, while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal." - 2 Corinthians 4:16 - 19