Six Months

Six.months.

Six months ago my sweet Henry was born. One week of life was all we were blessed with but it was one more week than we could ever deserve and exactly how He intended it to be. 

Thank you Jesus for the week of Henry on earth! 

Thank you for your promise to never leave us or forsake us. 

Thank you for painful seasons of growth where we grow closer to you. 

Happy five months and 3 weeks with Jesus, baby boy! Mommy loves you so so much!

Agwo John Update

Who remembers my sponser child, Agwo from Ethiopia? Well I started sponsoring her almost 2 years ago because I wanted to love on a hurting child and she shares her birthday with my sweet Berkley. Today, on their 6th birthday, I received an updated picture of her. What a blessing to get this picture and see how much she has grown! 

It really shows that God is even in the little things. There is no telling when this picture was taken, sent to Compassion and mailed but I was able to get a glimpse of a 6 year old little girl on the same day I celebrate my first girls 6th  birthday. #butGod #Agwo

Ten-Four

Ten-Four. 

A date I probably said everyday for 6 months. A date that was going to be the day I met my sweet Henry. The day David would meet his son. The day Sadie would get to meet him and be the most proud big sister. Instead, it’s been 3 months since I met him and said goodbye. Instead I roll fresh dirt through my fingers instead of baby toes. Instead I lose sleep with the “what if’s” instead of a crying baby. Instead of a happy date, it’s a reminder on my calendar of what should have been..

I did get through it, survival is probably a better term. There were tears, small outbursts, apologies and blurry disconnected moments, but I survived it....well Grace got me through it. 🙌🏼

And praise the LORD I can go to bed and start over tomorrow. 

Come soon, Ten-Five. 

#realtalk

#threeinmyheart 

#photothankstoConnie

Are we Show Ready or Lived in?

Pre-post Disclaimer: I’m a bit psycho over cleanliness. Like legit crazy. In fact, david calls me a maid because I spend more time cleaning the house than living in it. Move forward...

I was tidying up the house a few days ago and as I threw something in a bedroom and closed the door I was immediately struck with conviction. I was cleaning up for someone to come over and I wanted to make sure the living spaces were tidy but I had zero concern for the bedrooms. Why? Because they weren’t going in the bedroom. They wouldn’t see that I just threw in lady bug wings, a pack of wipes and dirty socks. They would see the tidy house. The one that doesn’t show all the clutter that’s usually laying around. They would see the un-lived in house, the HGTV ready show house. And y’all, it hit me, isn’t this what we do with our lives? 

We tuck the worst parts of us in corners of our hearts, package ourselves up neat and tidy to present ourselves to the world. The “fake it til you make it” mentality. We don’t want people to see just how truly “lived in” that we are. We don’t want them to see the dark thoughts, the battle scars, and the not so “Jesus girl” moments. But then I read this...

‘But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.’ 2 Cor 12:9

We don’t have to tuck the dark places away from anyone. In fact, we can boast about those weaknesses. We can be open, honest and vulnerable about our dark places. Why? Because In those dark places, there’s Grace. 

Y’all we don’t have to hide it all. We don’t have to paint on an un-lived in look. But it’s exactly what we do. We tuck the shame, heartache, and failures away never to be seen. Now there is a time and place for things, I know that. And I’m not suggesting that we live in dark places forever, just that maybe we try to be where we are. He is faithful and He will carry us so why do we try and cover it up, suggesting that we paint on “I’m doing pretty good” better than He can carry us? He can give us that perfect peace even when we aren’t doing good, when we’re in the trenches. There is something so beautiful about His grace is in those dark places. And y’all if we tuck the dark places away, we’re tucking that Grace away with it. I do it all the time. Her name is fake Lauren and she is amazing. Literally amazing y’all. I have mastered the skills to the point that real Lauren and fake Lauren can almost look identical. It takes a person super close to me to see the difference. It’s so sad. Literally, so sad because it’s so unnecessary. And hiding my weakness is hiding Gods grace. I don’t know about y’all but hiding anything about God just sounds like a bad idea to me. 

I want to live my life more lived in than “show ready”. I want to be honest with myself and others about where I am and how God has been faithful in those times. 

#showreadyorlivedin 

..and her arms were finally as full as her heart

If I could live between here and eternity, i imagine it would look something like this...and her arms were finally as full as her heart

💗💗💙

Rocking my babies to Jesus..

On Friday Henry would have been two months old. I would love to be posting a picture of him with a praise report from the NICU on how he is off of his vent or finally gaining weight and drinking from a bottle. I would love to post the same cheerful updates I was able to post with Sadie. But I’m not getting to post those updates. I’m not getting to post those updates because one week after I gave birth to the most beautiful baby boy in the world, I had to rock his sweet baby heart until it stopped. I rocked his sweet heart into the arms of Jesus. 

I was was journaling some thoughts on Henry tonight and this phrase kept leaving the tip of my pen, “into the arms of Jesus”. I used that same phrase when I talked about Berkley and now I am using it again about Henry. It’s a comforting phrase for me and I would assume every mother that’s lost a child. Knowing two of my babies are with Jesus is how I survive some days. I’m not sure where I first heard it or who initially coined the phrase but tonight it made me pause. It made me think about how different our perspective would be if we used that same phrase with our living children? I have never used that phrase in regards to Sadie. Why? Maybe it’s subconscious on my part...maybe it’s just a simple phrase I keep away from the one child I didn’t have to give back. I know how bitter and cynical that sounded..it wasn’t intentional, not that I don’t have dark moments where it would have been intentional, but in this case I just didn’t have the right fluff words to phrase it nicely—

Y’all, we have the open arms of Jesus for far more than just our children who have passed. We have His open arms with our living children too. What if everyday when we rocked our babies, we rocked them into the arms of Jesus? What would that look like? And what if once they were bigger, we held their hands and walked them to Jesus? What if every single day we gave our children, our living breathing beautiful babies, over to the open armed Savior of the world? Sure we pray for our children and lead them toward Jesus but what if we literally gave them to Jesus every single day? We have the ability to hand them off to a loving Father, no matter the age or status, so why don’t we? This phrase is taking on a new meaning for me and I am going to strive to be a mother who gives her babies over to Jesus while they’re still breathing too. 

#preachingtome

#spinningthephrase

#grievinggonerogue 

Tangled

Tangled:

existing in or giving the appearance of a state of utter disorder

AND/OR

existing in or giving the appearance of a state of utter disorder

I stare at this beautiful head of hair everyday, usually a tangled mess, and cross my fingers that she can stay distracted long enough for me to comb it. Every hair is wound around the other. Some are straight, some curly, some brown, some blonde. Each group of strands hold a unique knot with a different texture that I have to conquer in order to get it fully combed out. Utter Disorder at its finest. It’s exhausting and is accompanied by the most dramatic 3 year old cries you have ever heard. I’m not sure where she gets all her drama, y’all. Needless to say, there is a lot of chaos leading up to her gorgeous curls..

I sometimes feel like tangled is the best way to describe our emotions and how we carry them in our walk with Jesus. Utter Disorder. No matter what phase of life I’m in, I have always struggled with my tangled emotions. Am I hearing God speak or am I running on emotions/feelings? It’s hard to discern especially when our emotions are high. I don’t have the answer on discernment or some “how to” on listening for God. What I do know is that we are shown through the Bible God untangling the worst of circumstances and using them for His will. So just like the chaos that unfolds to untangle Sadie’s hair, it sometimes takes chaos to untangle emotions and hear what God is trying tell us. Maybe sometimes when we feel life is taking us on a detour, He is just “distracting” us long enough to allow our emotions to untangle and reveal the beauty behind the chaos. Maybe it isn’t utter disorder at all, maybe it’s disguised blessings. I truly don’t believe we will know this side of Heaven. What I do know is I am thankful that through all the tears and distractions, there is a beautiful ending and thankfully there is beauty in the becoming as we allow Jesus to comb through our tangles...

Never changing Truths

We are shown throughout scripture that God is the creator of all things. Because God is the creator of all things we are also shown that God can take away all things. To believe one concept we must believe the other as truth...and this can sometimes be a hard truth to swallow.

James 1: 17 says this...

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows”

"But because by doing this you have shown utter contempt for the Lord, the son born to you will die." 2 Samuel 12:14

So in all biblical truth, Henry was never really mine...hard to swallow right?

In no way am I in a place to say out loud and fully feel with confidence, calming my sad destroyed heart, that Henry was never really mine. But just because I sometimes struggle to “emotionally” accept the truth doesn’t change it from being truth. God formed him. God knew him before HE formed him. We see that in Jeremiah 1:5. So If God chooses to take away what He has given me, shouldn’t I accept that as Gods will? Sure I should....but we are human and we live in a fallen world. We fight with nights of uncontrollable sobbing for things that we consider ours when nothing in this world is ever truly ours. Walking in Gods never changing truth while going through a period of ever changing emotions can be extremely difficult and confusing. When you have the knowledge of Gods truth but your emotions take you off into an unhealthy valley of untruths, your actions and reactions may no longer reflect the truth you know. And then battling the guilt of letting your emotions control you...that makes for a Day 2 emotional hangover. 

Lysa T said in her devotion Embraced,

"You see, if someone asked me “what are you all about?” I would have some nice sounding answers. But what actually happens during the strains of everyday life can sometimes betray my best intentions.” and quotes a verse from 2 Timothy.

‭‭2 Timothy‬ ‭3:16-17 says “All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.”

If we are rooted in the truth, training ourselves in righteousness, the hope is that when life happens, we are equipped to walk the journey with Jesus. Walking in truth with Jesus is the only way that the circumstances that life will throw can be survived. This isn’t to say that mistakes won’t be made and questioning the whys and what if’s won’t come. I think that is all part of the journey. But I also like to think that even though I am not intentionally “using this as an opportunity for others to know Christ”, that being rooted in His truth will allow others to see Christ through the journey as well as help me walk in truth more times than not. Does that even make sense? For example, it requires no real intent or action for me to “have faith that this is God’s plan". I know because I am rooted in it. Do I question it, cry out to Him daily, fail, allow my emotions to lead me some days?? Sure. But I know (I have the head knowledge) that even though the worst of my days, He still makes everything good for HIS WILL. I like to think that is how others see Christ in us even when we can’t see Christ in ourselves. I like to think that being rooted enough in the truths will outshine the ugly “not so faith filled” emotionally controlled days..

I am so thankful that His word never changes...from beginning to end, I know His word is true, and that is what we have to rest on. That is what we must rest on when circumstances seem unbearable and emotions take control. So even though I can not, with full confidence and no tears, look at you in the eyes and say "Its okay that Henry isn't in my arms. This was Gods plan, Henry was never really mine and God will work it all together for good", I know that is the truth and that truth is what sustains me. That truth is sustaining me as I walk through the ups and downs of grief. And although some days I may feel more weak than others, His truth doesn’t change. Praise.God.

Lysa...and her #imperfectprogress

This weekend I celebrated a precious girl that I’ve been blessed to “mommy” for 3 years while shattered with grief over “mommying” that I will never get to experience...

Smiling through the tears or tears masked with smiles...I’m not really sure. All I know is that it was a balancing act covered in Grace.

#imperfectprogress

Moving forward with Selfcare...

Going back to work this week was hard....really hard. I am emotionally drained and physically exhausted but by the grace of God and some loving coworkers I survived it. 

It was hard but necessary. 

Emotional but healing. 

It was self-care in the greatest way.

Party of 5

Simpson, party of 5. You won’t hear that about us at a restaurant. You won’t see extra mouths to feed or bottoms to seat. You won’t hear a teacher say “oh no another Simpson sibling.” You won’t see us with a booster and two car seats in our third row SUV or see us run between soccer games on a Saturday. You will only see 3 of us, but we’re a party of 5. We carry two more, not in our arms but in our hearts. Not by the hand, but constantly on our minds. 

We are a party of 5. 

We will always be a party of 5. 

*Henry has a temporary marker until his headstone is complete. *

A Turtle? Seriously.

I’ve been here before so one might assume I know what I’m doing with this whole grief thing...but I didn’t really do it last time. Fresh grief, that is. I did go through the grief process, but it was 2 years after Berk died. When we lost Berk, I was sure that everything would be fine. I marched on, numbing my pain with projects and working overtime. I forced smiles and even “faith” at times. I didn’t allow myself time to grieve immediately. So that being said, this is kinda new. I know how NOT to handle loss so I’m trying to deal with my most recent loss now, while it is fresh. And I’m super annoyed. In fact that’s the word I used to describe it to my therapist today. You see today I showered, put on makeup and a cute outfit that I named my “not just a grieving mother” outfit with intentions of being a bit stronger than I was yesterday. Yesterday was down right awful. I had a plan for some organizing and grocery shopping but as soon as I had a full buggy at the bargain hunt I saw a pregnant lady loading diapers in a buggy and I found myself leaving in tears. No purchases, full buggy on the diaper aisle. I drove to Walmart hoping to calm down and buy groceries, nope. Drove to the cemetery thinking I just needed to be with my babies, nope. I drove in circles for an hour...I was unable to calm down and face anything. I decided that today was going to be more than that so I put on my outfit ready to face the day. I had some errands before my appointment and I was also able to have lunch with my David so all was going to be okay...Until I saw a baby in Academy. See I was in Academy because in an effort to reclaim myself and my body I need new tennis shoes...

First is was the football gear, football gear for a boy I will not get to raise. Then it was the smell. Something reminded me of the hospital. And then I saw a baby boy...goodbye sanity and tennis shoes. I immediately left. This time, able to keep in my tears, I walked over to Bealls. I’ve only been in this store a few times and at this point I was just trying to distract myself until the all important therapy session where I would announce myself as “not just a grieving mother”. In Bealls I found a metal fragrance turtle. I have zero idea why I even picked this doodad up but I did....and then I lost control of my tears. I literally walked around this store crying and holding a metal turtle...y’all this went on for a good 20 minutes. A TURTLE. 1. I don’t do doodad trinkets so I would never pick this up. 2. The fragrance stunk. But here I was, once again, crying in a store. I put down the turtle and left this time in pursuit of coffee. Because drinking coffee keeps me breathing....end errand saga.

Later..in therapy, after I announced myself as “not just a grieving mother”, I realized that the cute dress I was wearing, though you wouldn’t know it, was actually a maternity dress. Yup. Torn between grief and moving forward, you’ll find me.

>Emoji with hand raised< 

But tonight I can’t stop thinking about the damn turtle, yes I cussed. In the moment it seemed stupid and had this not been laid on my heart, it probably would still but maybe the turtle is a symbol of progress. >Insert all turtle analogies here< 
Turtles move slow...really slow but they do move. And yes I just lost my son 2 weeks ago so I don't expect myself to move mountains but the ups and downs are so dang annoying. I can deal with good and i can deal with bad..but creeping up grief with uncontrolled tears, nerp...can't do it. But here I am, blogging about how maybe this gold metal fragrance turtle was speaking to me. Here I am surviving another day with little messages from Jesus...via a gold fragrance turtle. So what my “not just a grieving mother” outfit still dawned a maternity dress? I got up and wore more than gym shorts...progress is progress, no matter the pace. So what I cried in Bealls? I made it through one store without crying and that’s progress. I am going to try and remember that even on the awful can’t function days, getting up is progress and on the days where you feel like you can conquer the world, emotional moments will come ...but that’s still progress too. Learning that its completely okay to be sad one minute and find happiness the next, is progress. 
Right? Right. 

Damn turtle...

I’m holding on to Faith, but barely breathing

This is not a pretty post. There is no uplifting ending where my faith has gotten me through the trenches....nope, won’t find that here, not yet anyway. 

I’ve had 3 babies in less than 6 years. I have sacrificed my body and heart for my babies. I have prayed over all 3 babies in NICU yet I only hold one at home. I have given all 3 over to God in hopes that His will would look something like mine...yet here I am again. Grieving. Barely breathing. With a heavy heart and empty arms. Once again I am trying to come to terms with why I can’t carry a baby full term. Once again I am spending my days and nights reminding myself that Gods plan isn’t ours. That His plan is better than mine. That His plan will reveal in time and until them I have to rely on my faith. 

It’s been a week now since we held our Henry. It’s been a week since we rocked him into Jesus arms. So right now, I am not in the best of places. I’m angry. I’m hurt. I’m confused. I’m lonely. My insides feel empty. I am mad at myself. I am mad at the situation. My mind doesn’t stop thinking about the whys and what ifs. I know that eventually I will get in a better place but now, now I’m not there. The real Lauren wants answers. The real Lauren wants to have a house full of babies and is bitter that she can’t. Now, don’t get me wrong, I know I’ll be okay. I know that God will carry me...He did it before and I know He is right now. I don’t doubt His goodness or His plan...I just don’t understand it yet. I know, I don’t have to understand to have faith so you have to understand that this is not a lack of faith. It’s a case of my desires not matching His will.

While I was on bed rest I said these words...

“It’s not that I don’t have the faith that God can keep me pregnant and protect my Henry. It’s that I don’t know that He will.” That is what I was most scared of, that my desires would not match His will. And here I am, and they don’t. I prayed they would because I was most scared of the darkness of grief. I barely survived it with Berkley and it took me years to get back to myself...I didn’t want to walk that dark road again. But here I am...barely breathing and dragging my feet.

I stink at not being okay and the fact that I have no inspiration at the end of this post is so not like me, but this grief stuff, this mucky darkness...it’s got a hold of me and I have zero inspirational “God will carry me” super spiritual things to say. I do know eventually I will see the good and His plan will make more sense but right now, right now I’m barely breathing.