Nostalgia

One of my earliest memories is climbing in the car to drive to Rose Bud, "Gateway to the Ozarks." A small town with a population of 158. Maybe it has changed, but the sign is ingrained in my memory. We would always drive straight to the center of town to Stark Building Supply, my grandparents hardware store. We would walk in and find my Gee behind the cash register visiting with customers and my Grandaddy out in the fertilizer store area. I would immediately ask to either help clean or mix paint. Shortly afterward we would take money out of the cash drawer and walk across the street to the quick stop. I would make myself the biggest ice cream cone I could manage and then we would walk back. After the store closed, we would go to the grocery store with Gee to pick up groceries for that nights dinner. We would head to their house on the farm and watch Gee make pork chops in the skillet, while Grandaddy fed the horses. After dinner, the activity was whatever was requested. My grandparents were so young and active. We would head outside and catch lightning bugs in a mason jar. Some nights we would get empty feed sacks to make a diamond in the yard and play a family baseball game. Other nights were spent on the mechanical bull Grandaddy made with an old tank hooked up between two trees with an old mattress underneath in case we fell off. Then we would come inside while Grandaddy watched bull riding and would take turns sitting on his knee as he pretended to be a bull and knock us off. There were also many trips down to their creek to catch crawdads or swim. It wasn't anything fancy, but was so picturesque and special. They were both always so happy and truly enjoyed our company. 

My brother would spend his summers in Rose Bud. He always helped my grandparents work and took his role very seriously. Austin was also very spoiled during his stay. Every morning he had a homemade breakfast and if his frisbee ended up of the roof Grandaddy would climb up and get it. Austin would sleep on a couch in their bedroom. The couch top was lined with small stuffed animals that he won out of a machine. Gee and Grandaddy would put endless quarters in the toy machine at the local restaurant just so Austin could win his prize of stuffed animals. I spend the night one Saturday night on a whim. All I had was a sweatsuit to wear. Gee told me to get ready for church and I said, "But I have nothing to wear!"

She immediately told me it didn't matter what I wore, it just mattered that I went to church. Talk about an impression at an early age. 

When my mom would talk to my grandparents on the phone, Grandaddy would ask to talk to me. As soon as I got on the phone he would say, "You sure do look good tonight!"

I would laugh hysterically as he would tell me his phone had a TV and he could see me thru it. I still giggle to this day about it because I thought a phone with a TV seemed so futuristic.  

When you walked into Gee and Grandaddy's house two things were always a given. One was that Fox News was always playing and two that it was always an icebox in the house. You could always look under the counter and find the best stash of little debbie treats. For a snack we would homemade popcorn made in a special pan. And every Christmas we would watch Grandaddy cut down a tree and he would always joke that we could only have a Charlie Brown sized tree. One day I remember watching Gee stand at the stove cooking dinner. She grabbed her stomach and bent over in pain. I remember being concerned, but didn't think anything terrible could be going on. 

Gee ended up being diagnosed with Ovarian cancer and died 7 years later. She had a strong fight, but in the end was just ready to go home and be with Jesus. She had unwavering faith and died ready. Gee had lived a tragic life in her later stages. She watched her daddy die a slow, hard death from ALS and 18 months later her sister died in a car crash. That was her only sibling aside from a brother who died as an infant. She cared for her mother  tirelessly, who struggled with terrible dementia. She never let any of this tragedy show. 

After Gee died, Grandaddy never fully recovered. And how could he? The two of them eloped as teenagers and spent most of their life together and worked side by side each day. She only lived to be 62 and he was robbed of so much time with her. Grandaddy isn't one for getting out much, but he would spend some of his Friday nights coming to watch Kyle play high school basketball games. He would come over to my parents house for family dinners on occasion. Grandaddy sold the building supply store not long after Gee's death and spent his time mostly on the farm. Grandaddy is my only living grandparent. As each of my other grandparents died, he would come to the funeral and say "You've been through this before and can make it thru again."

Grandaddy was able to see me work at his beloved Fox News in a big election year and loved it. He would call me and ask me questions about my friends in New York City and wanted to be on the know about all of it. He has been able to watch my boys grow up and they love going to visit him. Kole refers to him as "that cowboy."

Last weekend, Grandaddy wasn't feeling well so we went to visit him. Nostalgia hit me as I looked to his old hardware store and saw a car lot that one of my friends runs. When you walk into his house it seems the same, yet so different. He was wanting some coffee, so I offered to go to the quick stop to get it for him. I told him I wanted to go get one of those big ice cream cones like when I was a kid, but sadly they don't have that old ice cream machine anymore. Time truly marches on. 

I hope my kids can experience childhood experiences like mine. I often wonder what they will remember and what will be special to them? I hope they can find as much joy in the simple things like catching lightning bugs and crawdads as I did. And I hope they spend their summer days eating the biggest ice cream cones their little hands can make.

An Open and Honest Account

Night time is my time. After everyone is asleep, I am awake all by myself and enjoy an hour or so relaxing. One night in particular I was watching Grey's Anatomy (do NOT even get me started on the death of McDreamy.)  April was pregnant with her first child and learned that the baby had a terrible disease. She (the actress and her character) is a christian and struggled with what to do. She didn't want to terminate the pregnancy, but knew her baby was in constant pain. His disease caused his bones to break even with the lightest touch. Ultimately she induced labor to save the baby from pain while giving him a chance to live, and the baby went to Heaven to be with Jesus. And I cried and cried. I distinctly remember thinking, "That is something I could never handle. I have had to deal with many difficult things in my life, so losing a baby wouldn't ever be something God put on my plate."

Never say never. The day I went to my doctors appointment and found out that our baby was in Heaven, I had other plans for the day. I had a grocery list, errands to run. I had normal plans. No matter what plans we have and how prepared we might be, they are nothing compared to God's divine plan. I never once in my life thought this grief was something I would have to deal with. I wanted to have easier trials in my life. I thought I was better equipped to handle other issues. God knows better though. There is a reason he put this on my plate. Reasons I may never know, but must trust. 

When I went back into surgery, the nurse anesthetist reminded me that God will not give more than I can handle. A sweet friend sent me a quote from Rick Warren that read "Other people are going to find healing in your wounds. Your greatest life messages and your most effective ministry will come out of your deepest hurts."

I don't want to have a lot on my plate to handle, have wounds, or have to minister if it means losing my baby, but I will do it to serve the Lord. I will do so if it is God's will for me and clearly it is. Now I just have to figure out how to serve him thru this storm. And how to validate my baby's life and be a mama to that baby in Heaven. How do I do it?

The day after I lost our baby, I felt strongly called to write down our story and publicly share it. I don't know why, but maybe it is to share God's love. I try to keep writing and keep sharing. Right now it is the only way I know to make a ministry from this!

I am not very strong right now and constantly have waves of emotions, anxiety, and sadness. I want to be honest about this because I feel like so many women struggle with this and feel like they are alone. YOU ARE NOT ALONE. Fanny pack mom is right there with you. One day last week, I told Kyle I was so proud of myself because I had not cried all day long. I then stayed up for an hour crying that I had not cried. Silly I know, but grief has no rules or structure. I am a hot mess of hormones right now and I own it. Sometimes it is overwhelming to even respond to a text message. It is very overwhelming to leave my house or be in crowds. All things I usually love and enjoy. I am so thankful that God has put several women, who have been in my shoes, in my path to justify my stage of life right now. They have all assured me these are all normal symptoms of grief. Right now my focus is on my kids I have on earth. I make them homemade meals, play fun games with them, and meet their every need. My house is constantly picked up and all laundry is constantly done. All of my work is being done from home and I even exercise daily. Those are the things I can control and be scheduled with right now, so I always keep those up. Other than that my comfort place right now is reading grief books to heal or honestly watching Netflix. And I am not going to feel bad about it. I can't. I felt like on a couple of occasions this week I was being criticized and made to feel like I should be back to normal. Luckily, in my grief study it had prepared me for experiences like this to feel confident in my ways. 

A sweet friend gave me a book called Mommy please don't cry...there are no tears in Heaven. Ironically, this book produced a lot of tears, but only because it is so beautiful. It reminds me that my baby is being held by Jesus and knows no pain or tears. Human nature makes me selfish and makes me want to get to be the one holding my baby, but how wonderful for my baby to be with my Savior. This gives me all the hope I need right now!