Swimming

Our children LOVE swimming.

It is a requirement for every hotel.  They ask if they can swim at Granny & PawPaw's house, even if we are visiting in the winter.  They often want to put on their swimsuits and climb into the bathtub to pretend they are in a pool.

I was cleaning with bleach the other day, and the scent reminded Jersey #1 of a swimming pool.  She made a comment about it, which excited the whole team to ask me if we could go swimming.

This was Monday.  Family swim night (where admission to the public pools is cheaper) is on Fridays.

Let's just say we had a very productive week this past week, as the kids were highly motivated to get to go swimming on Friday night.  I enjoyed clean bedrooms and joyful attitudes while working on schoolwork.  They even earned the privilege of inviting a friend to join us.

The pool we went to was indoor, and is open all year.

Even so, the weather was not swim-friendly.  I was wiping away snow flurries while I drove us to the pool.

I thought out loud that I must be crazy to take the kids swimming when snow flurries were outside.

I changed my mind within 5 minutes of being in the water.

As I was helping her swim, Jersey #4 looked up at me with a huge smile on her face and told me that this was the most fun day of her life.

Visiting the Good Doctor

I took my thundering herd to see the good Doctor yesterday.  

Dr. S has been our Family Physician for the past 13 years.  He is the best.

Today's visit was scheduled to be a well-child check-up for Jersey #5.  Normally, I try to schedule the kids' well-child appointments within a month of their birthday.  It is easier for me to keep track of them that way.  Well, last Fall, life was a bit crazy, so I got behind on appointments, and now I am trying to catch up.  

I have learned my lesson!  It has been a challenge to catch up the missed well-child check-ups for my late summer babies, at the same time that my winter and spring babies are having more birthdays.  It seems like we are visiting the doctor's clinic a lot lately.

Today, I took full advantage of the scheduled appointment.

In addition to going through the well-child routine for Jersey #5, I lines up all of the kids and asked Dr. S to scan their current ailments.  He is real good about that.

We addressed Jersey #5's little, crooked toes.  Poor kid has toes that are various lengths, and overlap each other.  It doesn't appear to inhibit his motion, running and playing, so there is nothing to do but wait it out and see how his feet grow.

Jersey #1 sprained her ankle.  I dismissed her complaints at first, because she tends to be over-dramatic about every bump.  But, this time she was serious.  Her instep is showing the bruising discoloration.  The doctor examined it (or made it "really hurt" by pressing all over her foot, according to Jersey #1).  She should mend well with rest and some Ibuprofen.  She should be ready to run again for her next AWANA Games practice.

Jersey #2 has had a rough time this winter with dry skin on her hands.  We've tried all kinds of lotions and grease, and could not get it to mend.  The good Doctor gave us some hydrocortisone cream to try with the lotion.  The pharmacist also agreed that it should do the trick to help with her hands.

Jersey #3 developed a sudden cough, with no prior illness.  I suspect it is his allergies, which are really terrible right now.  But, just to be safe, I asked Dr. S to listen to his lungs.  All clear!  That is good news.  We will stick with my allergy theory.

Jersey #4 has a terrible wart problem on her hands.  Warts are caused by a virus, and will usually go away once the immune system rises to the challenge (which can take a long time, it seems).  One wart is really bothering her, because it is on her thumb and pressing into her nail.  I started a home treatment for her  thumb wart, and it made the skin all over her thumb start to peel away.  I had Dr. S take a look at it and make sure she wasn't having a bad reaction.  We are going to continue the home treatment and hope it works.  I dread her having to have them frozen off.  That is not fun.

Jersey #5 is healthy and growing great.  At his 2-year old check-up, his height and weight measurements were completely off the top of the growth chart.  Dr. S simply wrote down "greater than 100%" and laughed it off.  He said Jersey #5 was the largest 2-year old in the USA.

Now, at age 3 1/2, Jersey #5 has returned to the growth chart.  He is 3 feet, 5 inches tall (92%), and weighs 42 pounds (97%).  He is still a BIG boy!  

BMI calculations are popular now, instead of the height and weight curves.  According to his BMI, Jersey #5 is overweight.  The Doctor and I had a fun chuckle over that.  I am not sure there are any recommendations for what to do with that information for a 3-year old.  We dismiss it.  Jersey #1 and Jersey #3 were the same way at that age.  By kindergarten, they both gained more height than weight, and completely flipped their BMI status.  We will see if Jersey #5 does the same thing.

Poor Jersey #5 had to get 2 shots today.  We do not follow the full vaccine recommendations, choosing to decline the unethical vaccines that are made from cell lines of aborted babies.  But, we vaccinate with most of the ethically-manufactured vaccines.  I did not expect Jersey #5 to need any vaccines today, but I had forgotten that he was behind on 1 that was out of stock for a while when he was younger.  We caught that one up today, in addition to permitting an additional dosing of the pneumococcal vaccine.  Normally, I am not a fan of the recommendation to add a booster to the vaccine regimen just because there is an increase in disease (I would much prefer a more calculated recommendation taking into account how recent the original vaccine was given, and the reason for the increase in disease, before a booster is also given).  This time, I approved the booster because of the source (respiratory tract) of the illness that the vaccine prevents, and the child (Jersey #5) who is known to have a weaker respiratory response to illness.  I tend to have to make these choices on a case-by-case basis with my kids.

Jersey #5 was so brave for his immunizations.  He announced, "that hurts," but he did not cry.  He was pleased to pick out a sticker, and even asked the nurse for a second sticker.  He was so sweet, that the nurse gave him 3 stickers!  That made his day, and the pain of the shots was forgotten.  

At the end of the visit, Dr. S asked me how I was doing.  I shared with him my status of having better days and worse days, and that I seem to be progressing into more better days with time.  I also told him about how folks were recommending I see him for antidepressants at 2 weeks, because I admitted to being intensely sad, and I was crying a lot.  He shook his head in disbelief, and told me that there is a trend in society to try to eliminate sadness and pain.  He encouraged me by saying that since I am usually such a positive, happy person, that if I was crying in deep sadness then folks were probably nervous that the world was coming to an end!  That made me laugh.

Our Family Doctor is so sweet.

Trials. Ugh.

As I write through my grief, I have told about suffering from the depth of my pain.

I have mentioned how much I am struggling to make sense of my current circumstances.

Now, I realize I am wrestling with the lessons in my trials.

What is this?   A Christianity vocabulary lesson?

Forgive me if I sound frustrated.

I am frustrated.

This is not going to be your regular "happy-ending" testimony.

I am no where near happy or the ending.  I am definitely being tested.  

I have not learned how to express joy in the midst of my trials.  I am not mature like that.

I tend to go through trials kicking and screaming instead.

When I started out the trials in my marriage, I was strong in my faith.  I had confidence in God.

When I was told that my son, Titus, had died in the womb, I started to falter.

As the numbness wore off and the sadness intensified, I started to lose sight of God.

My children slept in Tuesday morning, but I was wide awake early.  The house was quiet.  I stayed in bed and thought and pondered and prayed.

It was not a prayer of thanksgiving.  It was a prayer of questioning and complaining.

My faith was shattered.  Could it ever be strengthened again?

Did I even matter to God anymore?

I thought about The Referee's answer when I posed that question a week ago.  He told me to remember what happened at the end of the book of Job....the part where God asks Job where was he when the world was created?  The Referee suggested that God's answer to Job was to trust Him.

So, I opened my Bible and turned to the book of Job.  I read the beginning, skimmed over the chapters about his long-winded friends, and focused on the end of the book.  I have studied Job a few times already.  I have heard it taught real well.  It appears I still have much to learn just from this one book.

I was drawn to the way that Job was humbled in God's presence.  This man who was considered righteous was saying he abhorred himself.  His view of himself changed dramatically when the standard became higher than himself.  His priorities changed real fast in the presence of God.  He was no longer feeling sorry for himself.  He had come to realize that what was most important was his existence and relationship with God.  Nothing else mattered.  

This struck me to the core.  I have been feeling sorry for myself.  I have been thinking about what I want.  I have been losing confidence in God.  My faith was faltering because I was only viewing my own standards. 

So I told God that I could see where I was, compared to the point Job obtained, but I could not see the path to get there.

I'm not sure it was such a good idea to mention that to God.

My entire day was consumed in Bible study of the areas where I am falling short.

Ouch!

Idolatry.  Yes, I was putting my desire for another baby above God.

Self-righteousness:  Yes, I believed I deserved to be blessed.  I have had enough trials already.

Disrespecting my husband:  Yes, I blame him!

I tried to get away from these revelations.  I set my Bible aside and picked up my phone instead.

Facebook:  When did all of my friends start posting so much scripture on Facebook?  Why did it all seem to apply to me?

Shut down Facebook, and started up Email:  Sure enough, there was an  email with a Bible quote at the end.  It applied to me.  Ugh.

Seriously?  Haven't I learned enough?  

I was starting to feel humble.  I was feeling it, I was feeling empty, and I was exhausted.  

I had skeletons in my closet, and my closet needed a good cleaning.  I had sins in my heart and my heart needed a good cleaning.  That was a lot of Spring Cleaning for one morning!

I was completely weary by the time I asked God what I was suppose to do now?  How do I cleanse these sins from my life?  Where do I start?  How do I let go of my desires and embrace that higher standard?

It appears I have a lot of work ahead of me.

As I was pondering what was I suppose to do now, I took a break and clicked on Facebook again.  Sure enough, a friend had posted a sermon video that caught my eye.

Pastor Mark Driscoll, of Mars Hill Church, wrote a marriage book with his wife.  He is now giving a sermon series about Real Marriage.  His sermons are available on the church website.  

Wow.  This is not your usual discussion about marriage.  It is a straight-forward presentation about what the Bible says about marriage, with real-world, practical applications that cut right into common problems.

I was stunned in a matter of minutes.  What a difference this knowledge might have made in my marriage had we heard this sermon series years ago.

Right now, The Referee has moved out.  We are not working on our marriage.  He says he no longer wants to put anymore thought or effort into our marriage.

So, why in the world would a sermon series on marriage affect me right now?

I don't know.  I'm still wrestling with the things I am learning.  I don't have answers.  I have a lot of room to grow.

Strangely, this sermon series on marriage is helping me grow as an individual.  It is odd.  I can't make sense of it.  But, each and every topic has multiple lessons for my life, for my mind, and for my heart.  

One thing I noticed is that Pastor Mark Driscoll is very direct about idolatry.  He is quick to point out things we may be placing before God.  That strikes close to my heart.  

I can see that my faith is being tried.

I don't like it.

But, I do realize that even though my faith has been faltering, it will never die.  As a Christian, I will never lose my relationship with God.  

Even though I am not feeling the joy in this trial, I am able to see that there is a purpose.

James 1:2 reminds me  

²My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations;

 ³Knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience. 

I wasn't really wanting to grow in patience.  But, apparently it is important.  James 5:11 also mentions it...

¹¹Behold, we count them happy which endure. 

Ye have heard of the patience of Job, 

and have seen the end of the Lord; 

that the Lord is very pitiful, and of tender mercy.

I certainly do not want to have to face trials.

I do not want to endure this painful situation I am in.

My Faith is certainly being challenged.

But, I can also see how trials grow us and sanctify us.

I see I have lessons to learn.

I see I have plenty of room for growth.

I know that my Faith will endure.....and will probably even grow.

I am not sure I will be fully cooperative.

I am guessing that I have much more wrestling ahead of me.

It is Just Grief, People!

It has been 12 years since I first grieved the death of a baby.

My, how times have changed!

When I was researching information about the grieving process, 12 years go, I came across many articles, books, and websites that talked about how death was previously considered a taboo subject, and not easily talked about in public.  Those resources were encouraging bereaved parents to open up and talk about their pain, as it would help with the healing.  That advice seemed logical to me at the time.  An additional point I noticed as I shared my grief story was that other folks who had also dealt with the death of a child started talking about their stories and experiences.  Times had changed, and it seemed it was a change for the better, because folks were talking and sharing, and facing their pain to bring about healing.

Today, I am noticing a completely different change in attitude about grieving.  I believe it is a change for the worse.  It appears to me that our society is trying to render mourning as inefficient, and grieving as unnecessary.  

Mourning:  the act of sorrowing or lamentation.  

Culturally, this is expressed when folks wear black, or hang a flag at half-mast.

Grieving:  to feel great sorrow.

Just under two weeks had passed since my son Titus arrived stillborn, when folks were already suggesting that I may need antidepressants for depression.

Really?

Depression in less than 2 weeks since the baby died?  

The shock of the tragedy had barely worn off.  It seemed perfectly logical to me that I would be in a state of intense emotional pain.

But, folks were quick to point out that I could get a quick fix to end the sadness with an antidepressant pill.  Apparently, antidepressants are not just to restore brain chemistry anymore.  They are presumed to remove sorrow now too?

I thought back to the time I was treated for postpartum depression.  It was about 6 weeks after my first daughter had arrived stillborn.  I was crying uncontrollably, at work, even though I was not thinking about the baby or the loss of my hopes and dreams.  Folks assured me that I was just grieving, and eventually the crying would end.  I was not so convinced, so I made an appointment.  My doctor diagnosed me with a classic case of postpartum depression.  He said it would be easy to miss, since I was grieving, and crying was expected with grief.  The good doctor assured me that my hormones were out of whack and things would improve with treatment to get those hormones to behave.  He was right.

So, the first thing I thought when the subject of antidepressants was brought up this time around, was that my doctor would tell me that it had only been 2 weeks and I was grieving.  He would chuckle at the advice and remind me that crying was expected with grief.  Grieving is a process, and it takes time to work through that process.  I know this.

It is true that people can get stuck in the grieving process, and become unable to function in their life.  This would warrant an evaluation for depression.  It wasn't that long ago when people gave themselves a full year to grieve.  If they were unable to cope after a year's time, treatment was considered.  

I am not saying anything against antidepressant medications, depression treatments, or mental illness.  I have seen the effects first-hand, and I fully support such treatments as soon as they are needed.....and before it is too late.

I do not agree that grieving is depression, or that antidepressants can remove the need to grieve.  It seems to me that the medications would only mask the pain while under treatment.  The pain will eventually have to be dealt with.  Just ask anyone who has tried to suppress their pain and refused to work through their grief.  That approach is not real effective, and leads to all kinds of other problems, behavioral and physical.

I started to challenge the argument for antidepressants so soon.  Usually there are symptoms of depression to consider before making such a diagnosis.  I was not withdrawn.  I was functioning in my life.  So, why think I was depressed?

Because I was just SO sad.  That was the answer I was given.  Plus, I was willing to admit it, instead of brushing off inquiries about my well-being, with an "I'm fine."  

I just shake my head in dismay.  

I am SO sad.  That is true.  I am extremely sad.  I have had a tragedy occur in my life.  I am certain that justifies the sadness.  

My sadness is intense.  But, it is not debilitating.

I know that it will ease in time.

Thankfully, I have friends and family who know these things.  They encourage me to take my time and grieve.  Take it easy and heal.  Cry.  Rest.  Cry some more.  Feel.  Heal.  Take the time now, or else the emotions will chase you down later.

It is working.  3 weeks haven now passed, and I am seeing better days again.  I am having a couple better days, followed by one tough day.  That is manageable.  I expect that pattern to continue to improve, as I heal physically, and deal with the pain emotionally.  My previous experience with grieving has armed me with the knowledge of how to treat myself now.

It is a good thing that I do not have to rely on some of these current trends.  I can't even imagine the ramifications of trying to ignore the grieving process.  I doubt coping is going to be achieved by prematurely taking antidepressant medication.    

At first, I thought this was a changing attitude in people who have been previously treated for depression.  Then, I came across a blog article, from Dr. Joanne Cacciatore, founder of the M.I.S.S Foundation, that opened my eyes that change is coming through the medical community as well:  

 http://drjoanne.blogspot.com/2012/03/relativity-applies-to-physics-not.html

It appears the new DSM V, that is set to come out next year, is changing its recommendations to suggest that folks can be treated for depression after just two weeks of facing the death of a loved one.  

Yikes!

The shock barely wears off in 2 weeks.  Usually the intense emotional pain is felt as the shock starts to wear off.  

In my opinion, that phase is better described as sorrow, not depression.  

It is just grief, people!

Grieving is a normal human response to the death of a loved one.

Going Through The Motions

I went to church on Sunday.  

I am highly motivated to keep the kids' routine as normal as possible, as they have enough changes to deal with already.  They love going to Sunday school and church.  Jersey #1 sings with the music team during the Sunday morning service.  We have a very loving church family, so it is nice to see friends.

Even so, I find it difficult to go to church right now.

My heart is just not in it.

I am SO caught up in my own pain, that I really don't have much concern for anyone or anything else.

I know it is wrong to be so selfish minded.

I know I am suppose to have my sights set on eternity.....keep pressing toward the mark.  

But, what I know to be true, and what I feel right now are not the same.

It is difficult to listen to other people tell stories about how God is blessing them, or how they can see a blessing in their circumstances.  I once thought I could see blessings too.  Even in previous trials, I could see blessings all around.  I always felt blessed before.

I don't feel blessed anymore.  Right now, I feel cursed.

I have heard enough sermons cautioning against trusting feelings.  Feelings are not truth.

God's Word is truth.

So, I went to Sunday school.  And to morning worship service.  And to the evening Bible study.

I went through the motions.

I am fairly certain that the way to get through this cloud of feelings is to study the Bible.  

I don't have much tolerance for false encouragements right now.  Too many of my hopes and dreams are currently shattered.  I need to cling to the truth.

By the end of the day, I was glad I went through the motions.

Our church teaches biblical truths straight from scripture.  I found that comforting.

I still have much to learn.

Somehow, a piece of truth pierced through my sorrow.

I may not actually feel God's presence right now....

But, He is still here.  He is in control.  He is still working in my life.

This much, I know is true.

Funny 3-year old

Jersey #5 is every bit of 3-years old these days.

He is full of curiosity about the world, full of his own conclusions about how things should work, and full of thoughts and comments that often catch me off guard and make me laugh.

At the start of a school day last week, I was explaining the lesson plans for the day to each of the older kids.  Jersey #3 interrupted me and clarified that 3-year old do not have homework right?  I agreed.  We do not make our 3-year olds work on preschool workbooks and activities unless they want to.  Jersey #3 was happy with that answer, and resumed his playing.

Later that same afternoon, I was organizing the chore list and getting the kids started on their chore tasks.  Jersey #3 interrupted me and suggested that 3-year olds do not have homework......pause......and 3 year olds do not have to do chores, right?  

Nice try.

One of the meals delivered by friends recently was Frito Pie.  It comes with a nice chilli, meat and bean mixture, to eat with chips, or specifically with Fritos.  I had reheated some left-overs for lunch.  Jersey #5 ate his serving and asked for seconds.

As I was spooning more chili on his plate, I praised him for eating so well.  I told him that eating his meat and beans would help him grow big and strong.  

Jersey #5 corrected me by explaining,

"I eat more beans so I can fart."

Ah, boys!  I almost forgot how important farting was to them.

Friends

One of the biggest realizations I have had lately is that I have some of the most incredible friends.  

It is during times of crisis when you really see who your friends are.  Those are the people who are running toward you, because you are in need...and not running away from you, because you are no longer servicing them.  

I just had no idea how deep some of the friendships I have, really are.  I stand amazed.  

When I needed a friend to live at the hospital with me, to labor and deliver a baby, I had 2 come to mind immediately.  I knew they would be there for me.  They would support me.  They would pray for me if complications arose.  I knew that they would be kind and respectful of The Referee, even in spite of the challenges of our marriage.  I knew they would be supportive of him as well.  I knew who I could call on.

When, instead, I needed to go to go to the hospital and deliver a dead baby, I knew I could count on my 2 friends to be there for me.  What I did not realize, was that I actually had 4 friends who were ready to be there for me.  What a blessing!  2 of the 4 practically invited themselves to accompany me to the hospital....offering to drive me and everything.  I am so thankful they did.  I wanted them there.  I needed them there.  I will be forever grateful for their kindness and support during that most difficult time.

It would almost appear that these same friends coordinate with each other (but I know that they don't), to take turns calling me, visiting me, encouraging me, and continuing to support me through this grieving process.  

In addition, a slew of friends have emerged into the center of my life, to help me in ways I never realized I needed.  It is really nice to say to someone, "call me if you need anything, or if there is anything I can do for you."  I say that same thing to people, and I sincerely mean it.

But, I have the kind of friends who don't wait for my call.  Friends who contact me instead and inform me of the ways that they will be helping me.  This was absolutely perfect when I was still in shock.  It is absolutely precious to me, now that the shock is wearing off and I am remembering the details of how they came to my aid.  

When I couldn't even think about food, I had a friend start up a meal calendar, to organize other friends bringing meals to our home.  People blessed us for over 2 weeks, and I still have a few meals in the freezer!  One friend brought a gallon of milk with her meal, because she just knew we could use a gallon of milk.  A house with kids always seems to need milk.  Another friend brought me a bottle of Mountain Dew, just because she had read on Facebook that I liked Mountain Dew.  So sweet!

When I couldn't even get past what I needed to handle in the next hour, I had a friend email me and tell me she would be driving my girls to their activity that was on the calendar in 4 days....and in addition to that, she had already purchased the snacks that they were signed up to bring.  I am so impressed that she took care of every single detail, and I did not have to think about any of it, or make any decisions about it.

When I thought I was only going to the hospital for a procedure, and then would return home, I had a friend call me and say she wanted to be there with me....and she was prepared to stay with me all night.  It turned out, I stayed at the hospital all night.  She was right there with me the entire time.  How did she know?

I have a friend who came to the hospital just to take pictures of Titus, after he was born, because she knows how much I cherish pictures.  She took well over 100 pictures of my precious baby boy!  I am not even sure how she took so many in that short time, but watching a slideshow of all those photos is so comforting to my heart.  

I have friends living in other states who sent me flowers, money, and a gift card to order pizza.  

In addition, I have a friend who made a point to show up to the memorial service, even though she has 7 children, and many of them were involved in a music competition that same day.  She simply told me, "I wanted to be here.  This is more important."  

One of the lessons I try to teach my children is to be careful of who they choose as friends.  The people we hang out with have a great influence over us.  I warn them that if they hang out with friends who make bad choices, they will be tempted to join in on bad choices.  I encourage them to choose godly friends who obey God's Word, so that they will be influenced to make good choices too.

What I have recently learned is that if you choose loving friends, you will not be alone during the trials of life.  

You will be surrounded with love.

Estranged

Our marriage relationship has is completely bizarre right now.  I don't even know what to think about it.

Estranged:  separated and living apart from one's spouse.

Even though I know he was entertaining the idea of moving out for quite some time, I admit that I am still surprised he actually carried through with it.

I never expected him to actually leave.

It is just so wrong to quit on marriage, and break up a family.  

As it became clearer that that he was actually going to leave....the day he finally told me that he had signed a lease on an apartment.....I think I went numb to the reality of the situation.

I tried to just stay focused on taking care of the kids.  Five kids, 1 pregnancy, extracurricular activities, housework, and homeschooling really helps one keep occupied.  

His random, financial threats gave me enough adrenaline to focus on survival, instead of the pain of rejection.

Any time that I would start to feel sad, I would comfort myself with the reminder that Baby Titus was due the week of our 14th wedding anniversary.  I had this new life to focus on, to help restore my joy in life.  There was no reason to focus on the negativity of the situation.

I also assured myself that this had to be a temporary situation.  Once The Referee got out to his own, he would be lonely and miss our family, right?  He would realize the grass isn't greener on the other side.  He would realize our life wasn't so bad after all.  I would just have to wait it out.

At least, that is what I told myself.

Unfortunately, that is not what has happened.

The Referee was serious about moving out.  He is convinced he needs to live alone.  

He still oscillates between assuring me that he is the one who is broken and needs time to heal and figure out how he can manage his life, and blaming me for his unhappiness.  I don't blame myself, but it sure hurts just the same to hear such comments when they are made.  Even if he takes them back or apologizes later, it seems there is still a desire to blame me.  

My friends and family rallied around me, assuring me they were praying for reconciliation, and asked if the kids and I had enough food and money to live.  My family is so pleased that The Referee is still so good to the kids, that they say they do not feel awkward around him.  He is being a good father, and that really matters.

The Referee's family helped him move, bought him housewarming gifts for his apartment, and counseled him to work within the legal system to get to keep more money for himself and provide less for me and the children.  (Even though when he started making plans to move out, he assured me he was going to provide for his children.)  They also encouraged him to file bankruptcy, claiming it will give him a fresh start.  One Uncle even encouraged him to use the information I emailed to family and friends about Titus' death and pending delivery, against me in court....certain that my sharing details about my life situation on email or Facebook would cause a judge to sympathize with The Referee.  I am not sure how my having to deliver a dead baby was going to help The Referee in a divorce hearing, but it certainly opened my eyes to the how low I rate in that maternal side of the family.  Not one person has inquired about how the children are doing, or if we need anything.  Not one person has encouraged reconciliation.   They appear to be pleased with the failed marriage, and the broken family.  It is really sickening.  (Thankfully, his paternal side of the  extended family has still been very kind toward me.  That side of the family does not appear to celebrate divorce.) 

Thankfully, the priorities of his family around the time of Titus' death, troubled The Referee as well.  He assured me that he did not share their attitudes about me.  His heart was completely softened toward me, as we had to face the death of our son.  He took time off work and stayed with me at the hospital for the induction and delivery.  He held Titus, took pictures, and admired this beautiful boy we had been briefly given.  He drove me home from the hospital, and inquired about my health and recovery.  He joined me in making funeral arrangements, and he blessed me with his participation at the memorial service.  

After seeing how much he still cared for his kids, and how kind he was being toward me, friends started to suggest that this tragedy might change hearts and bring forth healing of our marriage and family.  I can understand the thinking, because people just want the suffering to end.  But, I really can't see how the death of a baby can heal a marriage.  That just does not connect.  The two are not that related.  I am thankful that The Referee is being kinder toward me now though.  

Communication has improved for me, because I have been able to share my thoughts and feelings and pains about the situation.  The Referee has been able to apologize for some of his hot-headed threats, and  establish his full intent to provide for his children, and to spend time with them regularly, even though he is certain that he needs time to himself right now.  It is nice that we are both able to focus on the kids, and try to make things as easy on them as possible.

Without my coping tool of being able to focus on the new baby, I am really feeling the depth of my reality now.  I think it compounds my grief to have the failed marriage intertwined with the death of the baby who was suppose to be born the week of our wedding anniversary.  

Right now, we are not pursuing divorce.

We are physically separated, but not legally separated.  I suppose that is why the term estranged is needed.

There does not appear to be any affairs going on, or addictions, or double lives, or any of those common things that seem to complicate marital problems and speed up divorces.  

I suppose I should be thankful for that, as it certainly opens up more opportunity for reconciliation.  

I know that marriage is a covenant, and it is not to be broken.  I know that God hates divorce.  I know that it is best for the children to have both parents in the home.  So, I know that I need to be open to reconciliation of our marriage and our family...

Unfortunately, I think it would require multiple miracles for reconciliation to actually occur.

The pain of rejection is so fierce to me, that I think it would take a miracle to heal my broken heart.

I think it would take a miracle for The Referee to turn around from a bad decision and choose differently.  I have never known him to be remorseful, or to feel sorry for past action.  He usually tries to justify his choices, or else tries to bury them and ignore them and move forward pretending he doesn't have to deal with them.

As the numbness fades, I am feeling the vast pain of the reality of our relationship.  Right now, I oscillate between intense sadness, and anger.  I am sure that I am quite confusing to deal with lately.  At one interaction, I am able to be kind and focus on working out visitation plans with the kids, and be sympathetic to The Referee's grieving process.  At the next interaction (which can even be same day), I am either crying about the unfairness of it all.....or debating in anger about the unfairness of it all.  

I am doing a good job of getting out of bed each day, caring for the kids and the home.  Schooling is going well, and I am able to cheer the kids in their accomplishments.  I am allowing myself to heal from childbirth.  I am able to manage my main volunteer activities.  I am going through the motions of life.

I am just not yet to a point of being able to accept where my life is right now.  It seems so incredibly wrong  to have an estranged marriage and a broken family.  Unfortunately, I don't appear to get a choice in the matter.  

Worst of all, I no longer get to comfort myself with the joy of a new baby.  

Slumber Party

Jersey #1 turned 10 years old in January.  She decided to celebrate with a slumber party.

That turned out to be quite an experience!  

Considering how much I enjoy sleep, I am not sure how much of a slumber party Mommy I really am.

It was also wild to have that many 10, 11, and 12 year old girls in our house at once.  Oh my!  

At one point, Jersey #3 ran through the house with his ears covered, yelling, "There are too many girls here!"  He hid in his room a while.

Jersey #1 invited the girls from her enrichment class, as well as friends from church.  Usually, about half the people you invite will actually be able to make it.  That rule did not apply this time.  Instead, about 90% of the girls invited were able to attend.  Half of those were able to sleep-over for the slumber party part.

Slumber party is a misnomer--there was no slumbering going on!  I was surprised those girls didn't wear themselves out.  Maybe it was because there was so much junk food available.  They even enjoyed a competition to create a junk food "treat" for the birthday girl.  She was afraid to sample the creations...

The girls, and certainly Jersey #1, had a really good time.  There was lots of food....

There was time for dressing up real fancy....

Everyone brought sleeping bags, pillows, and blankets.  They were set up to "look" like sleeping would be happening....

Jersey #1 received a ton of really nice gifts...

Granny and PawPaw sent her money to buy her own gift.  Money is really fun at this age...

What is not-so-fun is the emerging attitude of our new 10-year-old.  Somehow, she thinks she is going to avoid pictures now.  Ha!  Like that is going to be an option with her photo-loving Mom...

She could not resist posing for a photo when she tried on her new cowgirl outfit.  She is all decked out with hat, boots, and shirt, and ready to ride horses this summer....

10.  A double-digit birthday.  Who is letting this child grow up so fast?

Struggling to Make Sense

I believe that the most difficult part of grieving is the loss of the hopes, dreams, and plans.  Those ideas for the future are abruptly halted, and a deep void remains instead.

Feeling that void seems to be the catalyst for the spiritual struggle.

The most popular question is Why?  Why did this happen?  Why me?

I've been there before, and it is a difficult, painful road.

Comfort and understanding can be found in the Bible.  The study of Job, in particular, is a common reference point for the question Why?  The simplistic conclusions that I have drawn from such study is:

1)  God is in control, and I won't always understand why things are happening the way they are.

Isaiah 55:8-9

King James Version (KJV)

 ⁸For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the LORD.

 ⁹For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.

2)  Bad things happen.  It doesn't mean that a person is good or bad, deserving or undeserving.  The depth of the tragedy is not a reflection on the character or choices of the person who is suffering.  Innocent victims die, when the drunk driver who rams their vehicle lives.  As we learn in the book of Job, the righteous suffer too.  Bad things happen.  Period.  Earth is a sinful world.  Earth is not Heaven.  Death is rampant here on Earth.  The biblical promises of hope and life everlasting are about Heaven.      

I certainly don't like the ways that I am suffering, but I am at peace with the knowledge that God is in control, this time on Earth is temporary (so my suffering won't last forever), Titus is happy in heaven, and one day I will see him again there.  

Even with that knowledge and peace, I am in the midst of a gut-wrenching spiritual struggle.  

I just cannot make sense of this situation.  

Something must be missing in my faith.

I am well aware that The Referee has struggled with the size of our family.  He did not want a large family, especially after the death of Mackenzie, because he did not want to be vulnerable to the pain of losing another child.  If the choice were entirely up to him, he says he would not have attempted to have any other children after Mackenzie's death.  He has more children.  He clearly loves them.  He is a good father.  But, he always explains that the reason he has this large family is because I wanted a houseful of children.

It is no secret that I enjoy children, and want a houseful.  I think I could easily be part of the quiverfull movement, and happily accept as many children as God chose to bless me with.  I was not always of that mindset, as I started out adulthood with plans for a very big career in medicine.  My heart was changed dramatically, with Jersey #2's health issues, so I put the big career on hold and embraced Motherhood as a profession.  Motherhood is a calling....giving up your selfishness for the sake of another person.  At first, that profession was only going to consume my days until the children were old enough to attend private school, then I would be back on track for my career.  When we made the decision to homeschool, the big career faded even further, knowing decades would pass before my responsibilities at home would lessen.  I have been at peace with these choices and changes, because I could always see the beauty in the traditional family dynamic.  I respected The Referee's desire and ability to provide for his family.  He praised my efforts and the effect they brought out in the children.  That level of teamwork produces great outcomes.

In an instant, the beauty of our traditional family teamwork crashed, leaving me questioning if I had made a grave mistake.  When The Referee actually left our home, he made some very serious threats about how he was going to remove my medical coverage and refuse to pay any support until a judge made him.  It was later revealed that he was lashing out in anger, and had no real intention of following through on those threats.  Unfortunately, he did not let me know this, did not apologize, nor make things better with me.  So, I spent a week stressed out of my mind, pregnant with the fear of having no medical coverage, with 5 kids to feed and $150 to my name.  Fear of the unknown shook me to the core.  I did not have a plan in place for such a situation.  Would I have to move in with my parents and have them support me and the kids until the baby was born and I could get back on my feet?  Would anyone hire me now, while I was already showing the pregnancy?  

I was stuck in bed the first few days, due to a bleeding scare in the pregnancy.  That gave my friends plenty of time to get my attention and advise me about the ways I could seek help from the court system and/or government programs.  There went my pride.  I have always worked hard to be independent, and I thought that was a value The Referee shared as well.  We had always tried to manage our life circumstances ourselves, and not depend on others to help us make it.  So much for that shared value, as I found myself asking my parents if I could borrow money to retain a lawyer, in order to ask the legal system to help me get child support from my husband.  Another option presented by my friends was to seek state support for food and utilities.  

I was empowered as I learned about my rights and options in this situation.  I was also humbled as I listened to the lawyer....a career woman herself....ask me how in the world a woman of my education and career background could find myself so dependent on a man.  Ouch!  

Spiritual doubt #1:  Did I miss something in the Bible when I thought the traditional family of Husband providing and Wife tending was so beautiful, so perfect, and so effective? Was I wrong to give up my career in order to fully care for my kids?  Should I have always kept a job, so that I did not have to depend on my husband for financial support?  Was I wrong to trust that he would provide?  

Things have worked out well enough.  I learned enough about my rights and legal protection from the government to know where to turn if I became desperate for help.  I was able to wait out the time until the following payday to see if The Referee was serious about his threats or not.  Thankfully, he decided to continue to provide.

Through this whole marital trial, I have held to my values, believing that the outcome is bound to be best if I stay true to the truth.  Regardless of the threats that were made, I decided to not pursue legal action myself.  It is wrong to divorce my husband.  I decided it had to be best to live within the context of the marriage, even if the road was difficult, than to blatantly disobey God.  I did not even pursue Legal Separation.  I did not pursue legal help with child support.  How can I justify taking another Christian to court, when the Bible says that is not the way to handle conflict?  Of course, the well-meaning folks who were advising legal action were tugging at my heartstrings by reminding me that I have an obligation to take care of my children. 

Spiritual doubt #2:  How do I justify what the Bible teaches about legal action against my husband versus what the Bible teaches about the responsibility to care for my children, and vice versa???

I sought counsel from my Pastor about this conflict of interest.  In the midst of his advice, he said something that I wrestled with a while, which ultimately framed my decision.  He mentioned options.  Has The Referee left me with no other option but to seek help from my government?  Legal protection is there for a reason.  Many folks would support me using it at this time.  I decided to hold off as long as there were still options for me to care for my children.  I was not out of options, entirely, yet.

Right now, it would seem that sticking to my value to care for my children over any other conflict is the best way to approach things.  The Referee has been visiting the kids regularly, which thrills them.  He continues to provide financial support.  Our basic needs...food, shelter, clothing...are covered.  We even have a vehicle and gasoline!  My hopes and dreams for our life together are gone, along with companionship.  But, at least I can still do what I am suppose to do to raise the kids.

Staying strong to my value of LIFE proved to be the best way to manage the death and delivery of Titus.  I refused to allow the abortion-minded doctors to pressure me into the surgical procedure that would dismantle my baby.  I fought hard for the opportunity to hold him instead.  In the end, not only did I get to hold him....but I got to catch him myself!

As I sit and deal with the emotional pain of his death, the biggest spiritual doubt overcomes me...

Spiritual doubt#3:  Was it wrong to believe that I was being blessed with Titus as a result of my faithfulness to my husband and my family?  I thought I was counting my blessings, seeing the way that God was working in my life.  

It is not that I thought that I had somehow earned him or deserved him.  It is that I thought God was giving me the desire of my heart.....to have another baby.

When my husband insisted that Jersey #5 be the last baby, I submitted.  I gave away the baby items.  I even scheduled his appointment for the vasectomy he desired.  I tried to focus on the blessings of our family moving into the stage of older children.  In my heart, I desired another baby.  I prayed for The Referee to have a change of heart.  I waited.  I prayed.  As the years passed, I saw glimpses that his heart was changing.  I still had to remain patient and wait.  I endured the turbulent cycles of being married to a depressed spouse, while treatment options were explored.  I just knew that the eventual outcome would be the strong marriage and family I desired.

Titus was conceived at a point of the healthiest, and most stable time our family has experienced in years.  I was confident that the valleys were behind us and we are going toward mountain top moments for a change.

Even when The Referee decided to move out a few months later, I knew that God was in control.  Clearly, the trials were not over.  But, it seemed that Titus' due date was divine timing.  He was due the week of our wedding anniversary.  I saw the blessing there.  Instead of focusing on the grief of my broken marriage, at our next anniversary, I would get to celebrate the gift of new life.  I thought that this child....the desire of my heart....would help me endure the time I had to wait until God restored our marriage and our family.

Spiritual doubt #4:  If the desire of my heart is a strong family and a new baby....AND marriage, and children seem to be extremely important to God as well....then why must I lose both and face double-grieving anniversaries this July?  Am I missing something about God's will for my life?  Are my values not biblically accurate?  How did I end up so wrong, when I thought I was focusing on what was right?

I am so confused.

Heartbroken and confused.

I feel like the biggest failure of a Christian of all time.

Balloon Release

We took balloons to the cemetery, to let the children release them as part of the burial ceremony.

Pink hearts for Mackenzie.

Blue stars for Titus.

Each of our 5 living children held a balloon of each color.  There were 2 balloons left over (because I bought extra in case one collapsed before the burial).  The Referee and I each took an extra balloon.

It was a bitter cold, windy day.  The shining sun was deceiving, as the temperature was winter cold.  

The wind whipped those balloon away in an instant.

As we watched them fly off, Jersey #5 asked,

"Can we go chase them now?"

Oh the laughter from the adults that were around.  Can you just imagine if we had turned our thundering herd loose to run across a cemetery, in pursuit of helium balloons?  Oh what a sight that would be.

We politely declined his request, and distracted him instead.

But, it was nice to end the burial with a spontaneous laugh!