Resuscitate...13 letters.

re·sus·ci·tate

1. To restore consciousness or other signs of life to-one who appears dead

I don't know why it hit me so hard this month but seeing those 13 letters on my Floyd Statement broke me. Sometimes I forget just how close i was to losing my little girl. Written across the statement, the first line of care says "NB Resuscitation". On July 29th sometime between 10:30pm and midnight the doctors and nurses had to bring back my little 2 pound girl. The pic to the left is the first time i saw my girl. It was around 2am on the 30th. She had been resuscitated and hooked up to a million different machines to keep her alive. Alive.....as opposed to dead.



You've read my blog, my story of losing our first girl. Everyone who is reading this has walked through the last moments with me. I can't even begin to imagine what it would be like to be back in that position with Sadie. I can't imagine having to experience that loss again and thanks to the medical team and these 13 letters, i didn't have to. Thanks to constant prayer and monitoring, my heart was able to flourish. 

I am kinda ADD and the thing that keeps sticking out in my mind is this word....resuscitate, so i looked it up. In the definition the first two words say: "To Restore". How many of us need to be restored? Amen, me too! We may not be taking our last breath, but we may be so lost we can't breathe in the peace that only God can give us. We may be so overwhelmed that we can't slow down to give God the time we need to continually build our relationship with Him. Dying inside and Physically Dying...two totally different things. We all have those days where we walk around defeated, dead inside, head hung low, hurting, empty, looking for someone or something to "restore" our joy. We spend so much time resuscitating ourselves. We pour our time and energy into restoring ourselves with stuff. Now i see nothing wrong with stuff...I am all about some shopping and i love love love clothes, but that isn't what will restore us. When we try to resuscitate ourselves we deny Him the ability to renew us. We deny Him what He died for...

Titus 3:5says, 

5 he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit.

We can't resuscitate ourselves, we can't do anything to deserve His saving. We can't do anything to assist Him in renewing us. We can only rest in Him. Rest in His ability to resuscitate us. Bring us from an inner dead-like, defeated, troubled spirit to a thriving spirit filled with Peace! His Peace! He says in John...

John 14:27

27 Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

I guess this word stuck out because I am constantly battling the defeated and troubled spirit. As a professional at Anxiety and all things dramatic, I can so easily slip into the defeated mindset. I am literally so good at Anxiety I am thinking about quitting my job to pursue it full time. SO funny....i read it somewhere the other day and laughed so hard. 

Anyway, it led me to these thoughts. Resuscitating my little girl is just as important to me as it is for us to allow God to resuscitate us. He gave His son..GAVE. The idea of losing another child brings me to my knees but he GAVE His son...we must allow Him to be the Savior He died to be. Let Him be the breathing machine when we can't catch our breath, let Him be the nutrients in the pic line, let Him be the transfusions, and allow Him to restore & heal us. 

Dying, Death, Dead, Die.... short words with big meaning. It takes a big ole' 13 letter word to revive and restore a physical body...just like it takes a big ole' God to restore and heal a defeated spirit. 

What Makes a mommy a mommy?

Similar pictures with very different outcomes...

If I've heard it once this week, I've heard it a million times, "this is your first REAL mothers day". I know people don't have ill intentions but it feels like a knife is being stabbed straight in my gut. What makes picture #2 different than picture #1? What makes a mom a mom?You see all the memes about spit up and poo and staying up all night, but is that all that a mom is? I don't think so. I don't feel any more of a mom in picture two than in picture one.. Both were taken 2 days after they were born, both were being supported by breathing machines, both were premature, both had a lot of obstacles to overcome, both are being cradled by their mommy....I don't think having a living breathing child makes me any more of a mother than i have been for last 3 years. Yes, now i have "mommy stories" but the love in my heart is no different for Sadie than it is for Berkley. I don't feel like i am more of a mommy this year but in some ways I guess that they are right. Maybe not my first "real" mothers day but this mothers day will be different, very different. This mothers day isn't going to be a day of dread, a day of sitting at a cemetery alone, a day of being looked over as a mother because I don't have a living breathing child....No, this mothers day will be completely different.  Yes, I will go to the cemetery and see Berk but I have held a negative connotation with Mothers Day for the last 3 years...but this year, this year I am actually embracing it. I am going to embrace the different. The different may come with sad tears, thankful tears or no tears..but I am ready for it. I am ready to embrace my first "different mothers day" with my family.....I never thought i would be able to say that.

It's crazy how much a year has made as far as healing. I think a lot of my healing has come through being Sadie's mom. I see things in her that i know her big sister would have done the same and I have seen so many signs that Berk is watching over us. I love seeing pictures of them side by side..they look so much alike! I love seeing Sadie interacting with kids that would be Berk's age. A few weeks ago my friend and I were joking around about how her child acts like she is mine. She is a precious little girl, full of spunk & personality. She is about two weeks younger than Berkley would be. I think God placed this sweet friend back in my life to show me glimpses of what my girl would be like. I am so thankful for that. I am so thankful that she shares all her stories with me. I know in these past few years of healing, God has allowed me to see Berk through different avenues. I know it has all been laid out in His perfect timing!

So whats the difference in these two pictures? Both are full of fear, I can tell you that but between picture one and picture two, is so much more. I have grown in my faith, I have learned the meaning of life, I have felt the presence of God, I have been up close and personal with depression, I have found myself on my knees more often than not, pleading for God to send me my child back...it has been pretty ugly at times, BUT GOD. 

It hasn't been an easy road, its been a heck of a climb, but the view....

Healing is only in His Name, Healing is only in HIS timing!

HAPPY MOTHERS DAY to all women of all ages! Women with children, with children who have passed away, with grown children, young children, adopted children, or just the idea of children in their hearts!  

When the silence is so loud and the noise is so silent....

Lonliness is so loud, silence pierces my ears, I don't like it. Its quiet, it's dark and its empty. Some may wonder why I'm so loud...well that's why! I hate the quiet times...its just too hard for me. Since God hasn't chosen to reveal His master plan to me, I can get a little anxious in the not knowing silent moments. The silence of an empty womb is terrifying but I've been blessed enough to hear two heartbeats, see two babies grow, and feel two babies kick.. The silence of a one-child household seems awfully quiet but then again, there are plenty of only children that I love and adore. But that's not the scary silence. That's not the deepest painful silence. The true pain comes in the silence of an absent 3 year old. It makes me feel useless at times. It makes me feel like my body has rejected a gift from God and it makes me hate myself...even loathe myself to the very core. This silence has seemed ever present lately, tugging and nagging at me. I have felt an absence, a sense of lonliness like never before. A fear of loss, an overwhelming fear that controls me and all my relationships. 

This past week we acquired an old metal swing set. You know, the kind that the poles come out of the ground when you swing too high? Yeah well we are now the proud owners of one of those gems! First off lets point out that my hind-end doesn't fit in the swing...and for that I blame Sadie. :) There is a lower piece that you stand on and rock back and forth, well it fits my hiney just fine! So Sunday afternoon Sadie and I were sitting on that piece just rocking back and forth enjoying the pretty day, when I felt an overwhelming presence. My heart raced and I felt joy fill my face and flush my cheeks. You see, the wind was calm and no other parts of the swing set were moving but out of nowhere the swing beside me started to swing. It wasn't in rythm with me, it wasn't even swinging at the same pace as I was swinging....For those few minutes I could just picture the wind blowing her hair, the sound of her giggles while she felt the wind behind her. I couldn't help but imagine her looking and talking with Sadie about her first swing set. It's hard to imagine only having Sadie. It's hard to imagine my body not being able to carry any more children. But in that moment I was okay with the silence. I was full of peace and felt an oh so familiar comfort...a peace and comfort that i had felt before. It was my girl. Now I know that sounds insane and you can think it's hockey or that it may have just been my big tail rocking the set, but I know that peace. And that peace is a peace that only God can give. I know that comfort. I know the presence of God and I know my hearts senses. I am so thankful for a relationship with such a loving Father. A Father who sees my grief and knows it. A Father who's peace and comfort reassure me that He is always with me and will always hold me in my darkest deepest moments. That moment of silence, when all I could hear were squirrels running around, was a quiet peaceful moment. It was a silence I didn't mind at all! Praise God for His blessings!

His Time is On Time and for that I am truly thankful! I may not have my spunky Berkley here with me but He shows her to me in mighty ways! 

#momentswithHim

#momentswithmygirls 

March of Dimes 2016!

I was asked by a reporter today what March of Dimes meant to me....I was kind of taken off guard because it was my first time at a March of Dimes event. I didn't know what to expect or how emotional it would have been to me. Reflecting back on today.....

I walk because the medical research that March of Dimes funds gives babies who are born too soon a chance at life. I walk for all the mommies out there that can't carry full term and know their future will involve NICU life. I walk for all the parents who walk the NICU Journey now and past. I walk because I know that without the medical advances and technology that March of Dimes funds, I wouldn't have an 8 month old SadieFrass. I walk because no one should walk alone, especially not tiny fighting babies! This was my first experience with March of Dimes and it was an amazing day! I hope to have a team next year and really help support this foundation! Awesome day to walk with other preemies, reunite with the NICU nurses that we love so much and pray for the babies that are currently fighting! NICU life isn't easy, no matter how "stable" your baby is. Leaving your baby at night is painful but knowing you are leaving them with loving caring nurses is very reassuring for the worried mamas and daddy's! I am so thankful for all the NICU nurses and doctors that helped get Sadie ready to come home! 

"Doing the do"...

Do you ever feel completely disconnected? Like not feel connected to anything? Do you ever feel like you're running 1000 miles an hour "doing the do", but with no real purpose or direction? I know I do and I pray I'm not alone....in fact, I know I'm not. This new mom thing is literally intense. I barely sleep, I'm constantly worrying about her, trying to wash bottles fast enough to give her another one, diapers and teething and introducing food....oh and work, there's that. I mainly feel like I am doing my best to keep her alive while trying to make people think I know what the heck I'm doing. I feel like it's tons and tons of going and forgetting why, forgetting the real purpose and the direction God is sending me in raising my girl.

Without a second thought, I turned at the cemetery after church yesterday. I went to visit Berk. I'm ashamed to say that I hadn't been since Christmas. My heart ached for her when I got out of the car. Tears streamed as I carried Sadie down the hill. I could almost feel the sensation of tiny hand grabbing mine to walk down the hill. I could remember exactly how her cheek felt against mine, tube and all. I could remember the way her little head fit in my hand, I could almost feel her little knitted hat itching my skin. Berkley was my first born, my first experience seeing my heart outside of my body. My only true experience of a broken heart. When I go visit her, I am always reminded of a point in my life where God carried my every breath. The ache of her loss helps ground me and show me purpose. The empty arms remind me that I'm blessed. It was exactly what I needed after this long weekend...

This past weekend was a massive one for my girl. She went in public...3 times. I know that sounds a little crazy, but being a premie we have tried to keep her away from germs during the winter. Now that it's almost spring and she is soon starting an in home day care, we decided to start branching out. After a Saturday of Wal-mart and a restraunt and a Sunday at church, my nerves were shot. I had been so concerned about who would touch her, who would breathe on her, what she would wear, what people would think of my mothering skills, all the little details that consume us in our people pleasing world, that I didn't truly enjoy a moment of this weekend. It was just emotionally draining and exhausting. I was at a breaking point when I left church. I needed to be grounded. I needed to be reminded of my purpose. I needed God to shake me and show me that all these silly little things aren't what truly matter, that the way I raise her is what matters. I needed to be reminded of this in the worse way. He must have sent my car into the cemetery because that wasn't on my schedule for the day...at all. He knew what I needed and what I needed was a broken heart. I needed to be reminded of Gods ever present nature. I needed to be broken to allow Him to fill me up. And He did. It was a rough afternoon and night but it was exactly what I needed. It's sad and it's shameful, but it's real life. I needed to hurt deeply and feel comforted. I needed to feel the comfort that only He can provide. The ache of her loss helps to ground me and remind me of my purpose. I thank God for steering me to a broken heart yesterday. The brokenness allowed the beginning of a healing and connection I've been without for a while. A healing and connection that I've longed for but been too busy "doing the do" to take the time to allow. 

#WowWeekend. 

Moments with Him, moments of comfort, moments of reminders, and moments with my girls....❤️

 

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.