Thankfully I serve Him...

This Christmas has been especially hard for me. In every moment alone I've found myself in tears. Sometimes sobs and sometimes quiet tears dropping, but tears nonetheless. As blessed as I feel to have my sweet miracle here, the loss of Berkley has lingered and been even more present this year. Maybe it's because she would be old enough to express what she wants and have excitement in her eyes for Santa, maybe it's because I would love to see her helping her little sister opening gifts, or maybe it's because it just plain hurts. I can just see my blonde headed, blue eyed girls opening gifts together with big smiles on Christmas morning.

It probably sounds crazy to most because I have no real memories to reflect on. Maybe it sounds crazy because the time I did have was hospital time but it isn't like that. I miss the what could be's. I miss the what should be's. I miss the idea of joy that Berkley would have added to our family. 

Now let me say this, I don't mean that I've been lost in missing Berkley and not enjoying Sadie, that's not it. That's not it at all. It's been the best Christmas I've ever experienced! Being a mom and seeing how loved Sadie is has been the best of the best, but it doesn't take away the pain of losing Berk. Sadie doesn't and shouldn't replace the piece of my heart that my first girl holds. She is just as much my daughter as Sadie is. Just because she isn't here, doesn't mean she isn't a part of my heart. The blessings are blessings...separate from the losses. They in no way replace or repair the pain and damage that a loss can create. So it's been hard. As beautiful as this Christmas has been, it's been tough. Real tough. 

But...Thankfully I serve a God who shows me little glimpses of Berkley on a daily basis. Thankfully I serve a God who gave me two whole days with my first girl. Thankfully I serve a God who  blessed me with a little miracle who I can tell all about her big sister. Thankfully I serve a God who allows me to rest in His arms when it hurts too bad to breathe on my own. Thankfully I serve Him...

The scrub.

It's so hard for me to believe that it is Christmas time. This year has been a whirlwind. At this time last year I wanted so badly to be pregnant and this past February my prayer was answered.

Reflecting back on my year is, well, exhausting. Sooo much excitement when we found out we were expecting, so much excitement when we found out it was a girl, so much excitement when I started getting a belly, when I started feeing her move, when David finally felt her move, when my mom and sister finally felt her move...overwhelming happiness is how I would describe my pregnancy. The 7 months I was pregnant. 7, 28 weeks...that was my pregnancy. 

When I look back on pictures of Sadie when she was born or us holding her for the first time I can't even remember how I felt, how I functioned. It was overwhelming. I see pictures of her hooked up to the machines and it almost seems like it didn't happen to me. It's just such a blur of events that I can't even recall it all. But what I remember was the daily scrubbing. Everytime you walk in the NICU you scrub from fingertips to elbows. It's the last step before you see your baby. You've already conquered the hall where you see happy families going home with their new baby. You've walked past the nosey people with the "bless her" looks as you carry a cooler of breast milk that you've pumped because your baby isn't ready to eat by mouth. You've already conquered buzzing in and hoping the lady at the desk knows you because saying "my daughter" feels so strange yet so good. Then you drop off your milk and you wash your hands. The scrub. You scrub all that off. You scrub off the self pity from seeing the happy families, you scrub off the anger you feel toward the nosey people. You scrub off the guilt behind how you feel about calling your daughter your daughter. You scrub off the germs of the day because you are going to have the best you ready to see your girl. You're going to give her the love you've had to bottle up all night because she lives at the hospital. You're going to give her the care that the nurses give her during the night so she will know you are her mom. You scrub everything to be completely clean for her. You scrub down to the nakedness of your heart so that all that's left is room for her. 

I was thinking about this Holiday season and how much I have to be thankful for this year. I was thinking about the bitterness and anger I have felt the last few Christmas's because I didn't think I had what I wanted. We so often put how our year went ahead of what Christmas is about. It's a "this year has sucked but maybe next year will be better" or "this year has been great, I'm so blessed". While all this may be true...what's the reason we are celebrating? It isn't to start fresh next year or even to just shout how blessed we are. It's about a tiny baby that came to save us. This world is ugly and if we allow the world to dictate our Christmas, then it isn't Christmas at all. Scrub off the I's of the year, good or bad, and have a fresh face of faith for the one who came for us. We give our all to so many things and while those things are wonderful blessings, sometimes I think we just need a good scrub. A good scrub to give us a fresh perspective and an open clean heart to our Savior.