I've been dreading this day for weeks now.  What would I do?  How would I keep my hurt inside?  I think the anticipation of the pain was more heartwrenching than the day itself. 

I woke up this morning feeling like I didn't have enough to do.  We had baked oatmeal for breakfast and carried on just like any normal day.  I kept thinking of how busy I should be.  I thought of the tasks I longed to be doing.  

After lunch I decided that I would not pretend that it was a normal day any longer.  The children and I  made a delicious chocolate fudge cake.  I set to prepare a nice dinner.   

First birthdays are so fun!    Though, this first birthday was a whispered one; only celebrated in my heart.  My Anna didn't even make it to half her term of pregnancy, let alone a real day of birth on her due date.  Who would ever imagine the lack of celebration would hurt still? 

For all first birthdays I make two cakes.  One for the well wishers and a tiny one just for the birthday child.  This birthday cake was no different.  I made a tiny heart saturated with whipping cream and embellished with red sprinkles to go atop the big cake.   The family enjoyed the dinner and especially the wonderful treat of cake for "no reason". 

I impressed myself when the tears stayed in check while I whispered a Happy Birthday to my Anna when cutting her cake.  After the children were in bed I slipped outside for a walk in the cool night.  I took her tiny heart cake with me.  I walked down the street singing happy birthday over and over through tears that did not want to stay checked any longer. 

I closed my eyes and pictured myself holding the cake for her to blow her candle out.  At one point I glanced at the chocolate smudges on my fingers and thought of how that chocolate would have looked smeared all over a tiny little face.  Oh, the desire to know what that face would have looked like!  With a giggle and a smile she would squish her yummy discovery between her pudgy fingers, lifting those fingers to taste.  Look at Momma squeal of delight would escape, a wriggle of excitement ...

The whispered birthday party was loud and joyful with my eyes closed.  Then it was time to open my eyes.  They opened to the stark reality that I was still holding a whole cake.  An uneaten, unplayed with, unsmeared cake.  What was I going to do with it?  I didn't want to eat it.  I didn't want anyone else to eat it.  It was the birthday girl's cake.  

It is now in my freezer.  How long it will stay there, I have no clue.  But that is where it is, and where it will stay for now.  

I sat down intending to blog about our home.  We moved one year ago today.  I remember sitting out front the night before our closing just looking at our new home.  Just one year later and I've lost much of the appreciation for it.  That ashames me and I plan to change that.

I've decided that it is not what I should blog about though.  While I've been thinking about how I've neglected this gift God has bestowed on us there are others out there hurting. 

In this blog there is a tribute to a beautiful baby named Lily that never had the chance to hear her Momma's voice outside of the womb. http://www.homeschoolblogger.com/Vanderclan/160499/#c299572 

I just read a prayer request for four young soldiers injured protecting my very lively hood.  They are too injured to even come home to receive proper medical care.

My sister in law and brother and law just got back from Africa.  There is so much pain and suffering.  For such a minimal inconvenience we could make such a lasting improvement in the lives of  these people created in God's image, but do we?  http://www.bloodwatermission.com

I can't even tell you how selfish I feel.  What has been on my mind all night?  What have I been thinking about?  I've been thinking about the past year and how much I would change if I had it to do all over again.  What are other people thinking about?  What are others hurting about?  I need to be thinking about them and praying for them.

What are you thinking about?

When I was a young girl my Grandaddy taught me to play the flute while he played his trumpet.  We would have a grand time together.  I still remember the way his face turned red and glowed while he lost himself in the music.  I can feel the tatta tap tap tap of his foot next to mine helping me keep the beat.  Oh, and that booming laugh of satisfaction when we were done.

His laugh had many different personalities.  Mostly mischievious.  One time he gave me chewing tobaco rolled in something ... it looked like a fig newton.  That's what he told me it was.  I believed him.  BIG mistake!  Now, looking back it would be worth it to taste that horrible poison again just to hear his laugh.  It doesn't hurt that I got him back by putting tobasco sauce in his toothpaste. 

It was thirteen years ago this weekend that his life was taken from him ... and from me.  It's such a sad story.  I think I'm mostly sad for the four teenagers that are now spending the rest of their lives in jail.  They heard that he often carried large amounts of cash on him.  They tried to break in while he was in the swimming pool for his nightly swim.    He must have heard them because he came in and interupted them.  They shot him repeatedly.  They were unable to find any cash.  They did take a jar of quarters.  On their way out they noticed that he was still moving so they shot him again.

No amount of tears will bring him back to me.  He's the one the Lord used to bring me to know Him.  Unfortunately my Grandaddy died before he could really teach me the life of a Christian.  Every night as I climbed into bed I would read my Grandaddy's Bible.  Not to learn about Jesus.  But to feel close to my Grandaddy and to read his handwriting in the margins.  It was during one of these nightly readings that I was reading about Jesus' death.  I remember the sobs pouring from my body because I finally realized that He did that for ME.  Me.  I remember how desperately unworthy I felt. I wasn't even able to feel thankful yet, for the guilt and shame was too heavy on my heart.

I know that my Grandaddy feels no pain and is with the Lord.  I just wish I could hear his laugh, feel his arms, and see him holding my babies.  Oh, how they would laugh as he pushed them around in the wheel barrow.  He would let them steal sips of his coffee when I wasn't looking and he would play all sorts of jokes on them.

Maybe as I write this, he is hold my Anna.  Maybe he is telling her all about her Momma.  The thought tugs a tiny smile through the heavy tears that I'm unable to stop. 

I'm a failure.  For those of you that have asked why I haven't done the next discussion on Titus 2 yet I'll tell you the truth.  Sure, when I said I was tired, busy, my Tommy was home ... all of that was true.  However the real reason is that I'm completely and totally inadequate to do this.  LOL.  Really. 

Today for the first time in my marriage I considered putting the kids in daycare, getting a job, and hiring a maid.  I literally stink at this wife and mom thing.  There is no other worse than myself.  Why on earth would I choose to train my children to be the utter failure that I am?  My Momma's heart hurts too badly at the thought of leaving my children.  But is that enough?  What good am I doing them? I'm in reality being selfish; just not putting myself through the separation that my heart fears.

The only thing I know is that no other loves them like I do.  That has to count for something, right?  I don't want to "have it all together" ... no, I'm not that ambitious.  I just want to have some of it together some of the time.

Though I may be a failure, I am not a quitter.  So I will be in prayer and one day, perhaps many years from now I will complete the discussion on Titus 2.

Today I hunted for the perfect tree.  Our first spring in our new home and I wanted to plant a tree in Anna's memory on her one year birthday into Heaven.  This wouldn't seem like such a hard task.  However, have you been tree hunting?  There are thousands of beautiful trees.  How does one decide?  It would certainly help to know where the tree was to be planted.  Front, side, back ... with other trees, by the drive way? 

The more I pondered which tree to get and where to plant it the more questions arose.  Instead of making a decision I took the kids to Chic Fil A where we had a nice lunch and a great time of fun in the play place. 

Chic Fil A is like a whole nother world.  You walk in and nothing has to be done.  There are no decisions to be made other than sweet tea, lemonade, or Dr. Pepper ... which I must admit can be a hard decision, but not one with lasting consequences.   

Today's decision?  Lemonade. 

It's been a whole year.  A year ago right now, I was holding my children close praying that the Lord would allow me to do the same with the baby I was carrying.  It was a year ago that the Lord told me that she was never mine, always meant just for Him.  His words wrapped around me and gave me peace to endure the pain that was to come. 

Within the year so much has happened.  Most importantly our Creator chose to bless us again and,as I type,I cradle in my lap a beautiful five week old arrow of love.  She's absolutely perfect.  I wonder at the feel of her skin, the heaviness of her sleeping body, the sound of her grunting stretches.  My love and amazement for her cannot be explained with mere words.  I am so thankful that God chose to give her to us. 

The pain of never hearing our Anna cry, never having the chance to nurse her is still there, even in the midst for my joy for our Emily.  I think that this is okay.  Isn't it?  It isn't that I'm not thankful.  I'm still allowed to  wish I could have had her too, right?  Am I selfish? 

Am I allowed to think back and remember seeing her tiny lifeless body and wish she would have had more time?  Is it okay to remember my Anna while I cuddle my Emily?

From My Womb ...