Lydia Likes...

Lydia likes...this giraffe.
She'd like you to have it...but you have to give it back.









Lydia likes reading (and Aunt Becky)




Lydia likes eggs, a lot. (If you are a pediatrician or hypochondriac mom...please note these are not eggs. I would never feed my child eggs before her 1st birthday! These are merely egg toys Lydia is playing with.)




Wearing only a diaper and having control of the remote.
Thanks Aunt Kelly.







Lydia likes Mommy. And we sure look cute all bundled up for the winter weather.






Lydia likes this barn. It's the Little People Farm Set. She plays with it everyday.




Lydia likes "helping" Mommy wrap Christmas presents. Our ribbons will never be the same.

Slow Healing

The sight on my arm where I had my IV started itching today. Not a bad, infected kind of itching. But the healing kind. The bruise is starting to fade, but it's still sore. My IV sight is obviously not the biggest deal after a surgery like I had last week (I really can't bear to say the official name of the procedure), but it really does remind me of my need for emotional healing.

Many people have read my last post about losing our baby. Brian expressed the same thing I was thinking...we could write many many posts about this because the grieving and thinking through this is so complex in our heads, hearts and relationships. Of course, not all thinking is meant to be in public, and certainly not via social media. But here's where I am a few days later.

Healing. Not completely, not as fast as my body is healing. I am distracted most times by life, by Lydia, by just everything that needs to be done. I kind of like that...it means I don't have to dig deep. But then, the hurting catches me by surprise. I will see something about the size our baby was (3/4 of an inch) like this word. It may sound silly, but then I think of him and I cry. A friend will call or email to let me know they are grieving with us and praying for us. It's so good, but also hard to respond to. Our pastor preached a great sermon on Sunday about Mary's song...and I just couldn't stop crying. Thankfully Brian didn't care what his shirt looked like after I leaned on him! And it's hard for me to get into Scripture, because I know the Word is powerfully and active...meant for my good, yes, but penetrating.

It isn't easy being pursued by the Holy God who loves me. He works in the quiet moments and in the moments I am thinking of laundry, lunch or Christmas gifts. He's working through the body of Christ, my family...even Lydia, and just in my heart. It's terribly exposing and vulnerable. It comes in quick hurt, tears and heartache. It comes with slow healing and, Lord wiling, intimacy with this Pursuer.

Grieving through the Loss of Our Baby

About 3 weeks ago, Brian and I rejoiced to find out we were expecting our second Baby Stock! Soon after, we started sharing the news with family and close friends, and I started feeling very sick and tired (just like when I was pregnant with Lydia). We bought a "Big Sister" shirt for Lydia, wrapped it and put it under the Christmas tree.

On December 6th, we had our first ultrasound. We saw our little baby, measuring 8 weeks and 5 days...with no heartbeat. The doctors were sympathetic and asked us to come in for tests and another ultrasound at the end of the week. Throughout those (extremely long) 5 days, I had hope. I still felt just as pregnant (I was almost happy every time I got nauseated). I read and prayed through Psalm 139 which tells of God "wonderfully and fearfully" creating and caring for every person even in the mother's womb. I knew that grace had ripped control out of my hands and I had to wait, pray, and hope.

So, Friday came and another ultrasound revealed our tiny baby still with no heartbeat. The doctor quickly explained the medical reasons behind this and scheduled me for a surgery that afternoon. Closure came quickly, in some ways, yet my heart is an open wound and I thought was stronger than this hemorrhage.

Where is my hope? Where is grace? And what of my Father who loves me and desires to give His children good gifts (Matthew 7:7-11)? Our baby dying does not seem like a good gift. It actually doesn't seem like a gift at all, but a curse, a punishment, or maybe a cruel hurtful way to teach me a lesson.

This is not like losing my job or a delay in our plans that I have seen work out for good. I look back and say "God knew what He was doing! It seemed bad at the time, but it all worked out for the better." Will I look back, remember that still silent ultrasound picture and say "See, God had a plan for my good. It all worked out."? I don't know. Maybe in Heaven. But I haven't enough faith and maybe too much honestly to confess that thought isn't very comforting.

I went to seminary. I like the logic of theology. I like how when I dig deep enough I can explain mysteries. I like to fool myself into thinking that I completely comprehend our Lord. I imagine if I could hug Him, my fingers would touch on the other side.

The truth is I would like a hug. One where I am enveloped in Him. One where I know He understands because He cries with me. One where I can be weak because He is supporting me as I tremble. I have to admit an explanation sounds nice. Seeing this tragedy rewritten for good (Romans 8:28) would be wonderful and it sure would make a great story. But a hug sounds better.

So, I continue to lean on my husband who I know grieves with me and still supports me as I fall weak in his arms. I depend so much on my family and friends who have comforted me and just listened. I am so thankful for my church body, the body of Christ, who have hugged me, cared for Lydia, cooked for us, and walked alongside of us without explanations or trite answers.

And even through my honest frustration, sadness and confusion with God, I love Him so much. I am thankful for His promises that are bigger than my understanding. I am thankful that no matter how tight I squeeze my arms will never hold all of Him. And I am truly thankful that His arms now hold our baby when I cannot.

Christmas Story from the Jesus Storybook Bible

Thanksgiving: Lydia

This was Lydia's first Thanksgiving. In fact, this was her first major family holiday (sorry love, I don't consider Groundhog's day as a major holiday). Holidays are always more eventful than normal vacations. The stays are a little longer. It is a more lively around the house and this Thanksgiving was no different. Except it is was different in that Lydia was there. For Mandy and I, going to family holidays are no longer coming as individuals or even as a couple, but as a family. What a great blessing to be thankful for to the Lord. Furthermore, having a baby around wherever you go makes things different.

One of the best "different" parts of this past Thanksgiving was watching Grandma and Aunt Kelly play, adore, and smile with Lydia. It was neat to see my sister warm up and become closer to Lydia more and more and laugh with her.

However, there is one confession which I will make on Lydia's behalf. She missed her first Thanksgiving feast. Well, kind of. Lydia needed to take a nap right about the blessing and toast. Actually, it was a great blessing for daddy and mommy as we were able to enjoy the feast and conversation with our family unhindered. For those who might be disappointed with Lydia's Thanksgiving siesta, I want to inform you that she did wake up at the tail end of the feast and ate some mashed potatoes and squash. Here are a couple of snapshots of Lydia's meal:

Daddy's getting Lydia ready for the Feast -

Lydia thinking, "Look at all this food... why did I take a nap?" -