My journal entry from July 2, 2011:
Today, as I was picking up around the house, I was unloading a bag of groceries I had left on the kitchen floor a few days ago. I put away all the shopping items and went to break down the bags, only to discover spoons and other various utensils piled between the double layer of paper bag--and smiled. Jedidiah.
It's not uncommon to see little evidences of Jedidiah throughout our house and throughout our days, whether it be a ball in the bathtub when you pull back the curtain for a shower, or a solitary Lego sitting on the toilet seat cover; a spatula jammed in the Diaper Genie, or dozens of puzzle pieces fit through the handle hole of a cardboard storage box; magnets dropped off in Daddy's Muscle Milk, or a cookbook in the bedroom trashcan. Each discovery is so heart-wrenchingly cute and delights me in the most endearing way, causing me to smile no matter what mood I'm in at the time.
As I cleaned up his utensil stash, I had a moment of appreciation for my son. The way he is--just being his curious, silly self--brings me such delight, and he doesn't even know it. I thanked God for making him the way he is. And I wondered how much delight I bring Him just by being the way I am, how many times I make Him smile without even knowing it. I thought, this is why creation is to be praised. Every person, every creature, everything before even doing anything, delights our Father simply because it is fearfully and wonderfully made by Him.
Yesterday, I found out that I had a miscarriage. At the most, I was about nine weeks along. It wasn't painful at all, but I went to the doctor to get checked for some bleeding. While I was in the examination room waiting for the doctor, disposable hospital blanket covering my naked legs, I had a moment with my unborn child. Fearing the worst, as I would soon learn it turned out to be, I put my hand upon my belly and told my baby, "No matter what happens, I know you're there. God knows you're there. He created you and you are fearfully and wonderfully made. I thank Him for your life and I love you very much." When I got home that afternoon, my husband and I prayed together and gave it to God. The part I remember the most is when he asked God to "Tell our baby that we love her--Mommy, Daddy, and brother Jedidiah." It was probably the sweetest prayer I've heard.
Perhaps because it was so early on (we had only known for two weeks that I was pregnant at all), we weren't too saddened by the whole thing. We will never know why it happened, but God is sovereign and He is good. To praise the creator of this life that is now with Him has given me sweet peace.
A song of worship rises in me now but also compels me to write about this and to share it. I need to get back to writing. Motherhood causes you to be selfless because you just don't have the capacity for yourself and the things you want to do anymore. But I'm realizing that at the same time you have to fight to keep the self you were created to be. I used to write all the time. Writing is not just a pastime, not just a passion, but part of the way I was created. Through writing, I think and see and breathe and live. To not exercise this gift is to not fully be the me I was created to be. And share. There is something about making things public, making ourselves vulnerable, that brings healing and closure and beauty. Maybe it's that old saying, 'It's not about me.' It's not about us, but knowing that the end of this breath is the beginning of another.
So my soul worships my God the Creator today. For Jedidiah, for my baby, for me, and for you.
He makes all things beautiful in its time.
