Friday, December 21, 2012

Christmas 2012


I absolutely adore Christmas time.  I adore it so much, in fact, that my Christmas season begins on November 1st every year.  I love the music, the baking, buying presents, watching Christmas movies, and just the overall feel of the Christmasified world.

This year, I have had difficulty getting in the Christmas spirit.  I will admit, there are only four days until Christmas and I am not quite there yet.  Sure, I have instances of Christmas bliss, but something always happens to pull me back to my reality. 

My reality is that there are presents for a little girl missing from underneath the tree.  My house is minus one tiny stocking.  My loved ones are suffering from aching hearts that only time may heal.  My reality is that every time I hear a song mentioning the Christ-child being cradled in loving arms, I am reminded of the sweet little niece I held closely for a few precious moments.

She is never far from my thoughts, and it is remarkable what little things can remind me of her.

Remembering her is not the hard part; on the contrary, I remember her sweet little face fondly and find myself smiling whenever I see her pictures.  I welcome the reminders because they make me feel closer to her.  No, the hardest part for me is seeing those I love hurting.  The fact that they are hurting makes the ache already existing in my heart so much worse.  There seems to be a slight haze hovering over each burst of sunlight.

I know Evie is happy and safe, happier and safer than she would have ever been down here with us, but it does not make me miss her any less.

I find myself wondering what exactly Christmas is like in heaven.  Do they celebrate Christmas up there?  Is there a huge birthday cake for Jesus or something?  I can’t even begin to imagine how awesome the Christmas lights and decorations must be up there.  And how cool must it be to hear the Christmas Story from Jesus himself!

And now, to bring this post to a close…

"Life is made up of meetings and partings. That is the way of it. I'm sure that
we shall never forget Tiny Tim, or this first parting that there was among us ..."

-Kermit The Frog as Bob Cratchit

We will never forget you Evie Caris, and we look forward to someday spending our Christmases with you in heaven!

 

 




Saturday, December 1, 2012

The Ladybug


     I spent much of the day yesterday thinking about and missing Evie.  Not that I don’t think about and miss her everyday, but yesterday it was especially so.  I am not sure of the reason, it was just one of those days I suppose.  I found myself frequently grasping my necklace, the one with her name engraved in it, the way I do whenever I want to feel close to her.  During the evening, I sat looking at pictures through tear-filled eyes as I reminisced about the time I spent with her.  How adorable she was with her chubby cheeks, her little noises, cradling her little body in my arms, and how it felt as I kissed her little face for the last time. 

     It was around 11:30 and I was sitting at my desk doing homework and being productive.  I had turned slightly in my swivel chair for whatever reason when I saw it.  There, sitting on my window curtain, was a little ladybug.  Now, to fully understand the significance of this, you have to know that ladybugs have been Evie’s little mascot from the moment we found out who she was.  Her memorial service had a ladybug theme and she had a special little ladybug blanket.  So, back to the ladybug…

My heart did a little leap in my chest as I was immediately reminded of my dear little niece.  I crept closer to the little ladybug wondering how on earth it would have gotten in my room and why, during this cool time of year when all other bugs are in hiding, was this tiny bug moving about.  I grabbed a small piece of paper and guided the ladybug to crawl onto it.  I stood there for a few moments in the middle of my room just holding the paper with the ladybug.  She did not move or try to fly away.  My mind began to race as I thought about how I could keep this ladybug as a pet.  I could put her in a little jar, feed her, and keep her in my room.  She could stay safe and close to me and be a symbol of sweet Evie.  Then reality came in.  I do not know the first thing about taking care of ladybugs.  Any feeble attempts of mine to keep her would likely result in an expedited death.  I realized that the best chance of her survival would be to put her back outdoors.  That was where she belonged.  That was where she could live.  Carefully, I brought the ladybug downstairs and carried her outside.  Kneeling gently, I placed the piece of paper with her on it inside one of my mom’s plants.  I sat for a moment watching the little bug before going back inside.  When I woke up this morning, I went back to the plant, a part of my hoping that the ladybug had stayed there…but she was gone.    

I realized that God was using the ladybug to tell me something.  As much as I wanted to keep Evie and have her stay here on earth close to me, where she belongs is heaven.  That is where she can thrive and be happy.  And, even though we cannot see her, she is having a fantastic life in heaven. 

I will still keep my eye out for ladybugs as a reminder of my little ladybug who is now flying around with the angels in heaven. 

        

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

This is for you Evie...

This is for you Evie...
 
You’ll never be hurt and never feel pain.

You’ll never have to worry, no loss, only gain.

You’ll never be sad, never have to cry.

You’ll never be angry and have to ask why.

You’ll never feel lonely, never be lost.

You’ll never regret bridges you’ve crossed.

You’ll never have to wallow in seas of insecurity.

You’re beauty won’t fade, filled with radiance and purity.

You will always be happy with a smile on your face.

You will always be safe, entwined in arms of grace. 

God Asked Me Why I'm Crying


God asked me why I’m crying and I told Him this,

You took something away from me that I love and miss,

A little girl so innocent, so sweet, and so pure

Leaving me with pain too difficult to endure.

God asked me once again just why it is I cry.

I told Him because I do not understand the reason why.

To make a family hurt like this just does not seem fair.

Don’t You see us?  Don’t You know?  Do You care?

God asked me why my eyes are full of tears.

I told Him because He robbed the joy of coming years.

All the memories we would have made, time we would run and play

The life she would have had, who she would become, You took it all away. 

God asked me Don’t you know that she is in a better place?

To which I said but all I want is to just hold and kiss her face.

I want to have her here with me to love, snuggle, and dress

And guide her through future years when there are boys to impress.

God said to me But where she is, she will never come to any harm.

She is forever happy and safe, cradled in My arms.

She will not cry or hurt or fear

Her loveliness will remain, no matter what the year.

God asked me why I’m crying and I began to say I wish

And then I realized and said, I cry because I am selfish.

I want her here to be with me

But she is perfect in eternity.

How can I long for her to return

To a place where hurt and sorrow burn?

Why would I ever wish her away

From a life of eternal sunshine and day?

God asked me why I’m crying and I no longer felt so mad.

I said because I miss her and sometimes feel so sad.

But I know that she is happy in a perfect, better place

And I will see her again one day, sweet Evie Caris, life and grace. 

 

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Now What?


     Ever since July 16, 2012, my life had revolved around the anticipation of Evie’s birth.  Waiting for the day I would get to meet her and say goodbye to her.  When that day finally arrived on November 8, 2012, I resumed waiting once again, this time waiting for the day to celebrate her and say a final goodbye.  We honored Evie on November 16, 2012 with prayers, songs, tears, and many sweet treats.    

     After the memorial service was over, I remember saying somewhat lightly to a friend, “Well, I made it!  Now just the rest of my life to go!”  It wasn’t until much later that night when the reality of that statement hit me fully, now just the rest of my life to go…

     So now what?  For the past four months, my life has consisted of waiting, waiting to get over the next obstacle, waiting to get through the next moment of anticipated tears and pain.  I survived by thinking if I can just get through this it will be alright…if I can just get through this…but now everything is over.  Evie is in heaven.  I have met her, held her, said goodbye, and commemorated her. 

     So now what?  I hadn’t thought about what I would do once I had done all of those things.  There isn’t anything to wait for in nervous expectation.  No final hurdle I can jump and breathe a sigh of relief knowing that the pain and hardship is over.  The pain will always be there.  The hurt will always be there.  My heart will always be missing a little Evie shaped piece.  I am going to have to live the rest of my life this way. 

     Another day down, now just the rest of my life to go…    

Monday, November 12, 2012

Evie's Story: From Auntie Shell's Perspective


* I wrote this at 1:00 in the morning and haven't re-read it, so please forgive any spelling or grammatical errors. 
 
Here is Evie Story from my perspective...
 
I had taken one step inside my house when I knew something was strange.  It was 11:00 at night, the lights were on downstairs and both of my parents were awake.  I barely had time to formulate the question, “You guys are up?”  When my dad answered, “Sarah’s at the hospital.”

The few seconds I stood motionless and confused in front of the door while my parents were frantically rummaging around downstairs seemed almost surreal.  “Wh-wh-wh-what?”  I stammered, still frozen in place with my bulky back-pack, car keys, and purse. 

“Hurry up we gotta go!  Grab a snack and some water and let’s go!”  My mother commanded in her this-is-urgent-mother-voice.  Still not fully processing, I moved towards the kitchen, filled my water bottle, snatched something edible from the cabinet and hustled myself into the car along with my parents.  It’s happening…it’s actually happening…it’s happening now?  Already?  I thought I had more time…God I’m not ready for this…I am so not ready for this yet!  Thus was the cycle of my thoughts during the eternal car ride. 

We finally reached the hospital and my dad found a parking space.  My mother broke out instantly into an almost run while I struggled to keep up, still lugging around my bag.  It’s funny how difficult it can be to locate an entrance when one is in a hurry…

My parents and I finally got inside where we saw Anna waiting for us.  Honestly, I don’t quite remember everything that was said…only that the security guard did not seem affected by our sense of urgency and admitted that he did not really know how to get to the fourth floor.  We all followed him around aimlessly for a bit as he asked around for anyone who knew how to get to the fourth floor.  How the heck do you not know how to get to the fourth floor?  Don’t you work in this freakin’ building??  My mother’s continued frantic prompting did nothing to speed his leisurely stroll pace.  “It’s alright, we’ve got nothing but time,” he told us calmly.

I was dangerously close to punching that man right in the face…several times…repeatedly…

At last, we got to the proper floor and rushed over to the emergency room area.  There we were met by a group of close friends and family as well as a grumpy lady at the front desk.  “She had the baby in the hallway,” I heard someone say.  I had a moment of severe panic.  What does that mean?  Where is she?  Where is Evie?  What is going on?  Why are we not all rushing to the room right now? “Don’t worry, she’s still here,” Lauren said to me softly.  I felt relieved; I hadn’t missed my chance, but still felt hurried to get in the room. 

Of course, we all had to a painstakingly long process of showing our ID and getting a special admittance sticker.  It was the second time that night I wanted to punch someone in the face…and it wouldn’t be the last. 

Finally, finally I was able to get through into my sister’s room.  There was a nurse in there talking about paperwork and this and that.  The curtain was drawn so I couldn’t see anything right away.  As soon as the curtain was drawn away, I made a beeline for the hospital bed.  Then I saw you for the first time.  You were all snuggled in a blanket, squished up face with chubby cheeks, and you were blue.  I don’t want her to be blue, I thought as the tears began to fill my eyes.  I still couldn’t believe it.  Months of waiting, months of anticipation, and you were right there in front of me.  I reached out and let my fingers brush your cheeks before I backed away to allow others the chance to gaze upon you, but my eyes never left you.  I stared, wanting to soak in as much of you as I could, wanting to engrave the memory of you in my brain.  Every twitch of the lips, furrow of the brow, little spit bubble, hiccup, tiny squeak, slight gesture; I didn’t want to miss a single thing.  Your brother was my only allowed distraction, and he was the cutest and sweetest distraction there ever could be.  I truly do not think I could have made it through that night without him there.  He was a little scared of you at first I think, not knowing what to make of this tiny bundle in his mommy’s arms, but as the night progressed, he became more accepting and even shared his orange motorcycle with you. 

Then, I saw something I was not expecting to see, your mommy passed you into the arms of your Yia Yia.  We get to hold her!  We are going to get to hold her!  I had come expecting to only get to admire you from the loving arms of your mommy and daddy, but I was actually going to get to hold you.  I waited patiently as you were adored by your Yia Yia, then your Papa, who then handed you to me.  You were so tiny, I had forgotten how little brand new babies are.  You let out a little noise, almost like a kitten’s meow as I took you in my arms.  Tears pooled in my eyes as I whispered to you.  Hey pretty girl, I love you so much.  You’re so beautiful and your Auntie Shell loves you so much.  I gently kissed you all over your little face, cradling your head in my arms.  I wanted to snuggle you all night, but, reluctantly, I passed you on to your Mamaw.  My eyes followed you as you were enjoyed by each person in the room.  Slowly, your color began to change from a little smurfette-sweetie blue to a more natural pink.  Your daddy gave you a sponge bath, which you protested with little squeaks of displeasure, and your mommy dressed you in pretty clothes complete with a pink knit cap and bow.  You looked like a perfect little princess.  For the next several minutes, you kept us all captivated and charmed with your sweet sounds, sounds which your brother began to imitate.  I tried to hold myself together and limit the tears, but when I would see you snuggled between your mommy and daddy, it would sometimes be too much for me and I would have to look away and allow myself a deep sob or two.  Nurses kept coming in and interrupting everything with talk of paperwork, procedure, and possible crowding of the room.  It was obvious the presence of so many of your fans annoyed them.  Just so you know, your Auntie Shell is not usually a violent person…but those nurses were also in danger of the wrath of my fist. 

We were told that we were all to move to a different room and your Papaw suggested that we have a word of prayer first.  All of your friends and family formed a circle; I stood between your Aunt Lauren and Uncle Luke, a tissue in my hand, ready for the anticipated tears.  As the prayer began, I felt your Uncle Luke put his arm around my shoulders.  I held him back, grateful for the support I desperately needed.  The prayer was a sweet one; it took every ounce of effort to reduce my crying to sobs instead of a mass of hiccupping hysteria.  Why God?  Why are you taking her from us?  I still just don’t understand.  Don’t you see how much we all love her?  Don’t you see the family you are taking her from?

I held your brother as we paraded to a new room.  Your daddy wheeled you in the baby bed.  The transportation to a new room seemed to put more natural color in your face, making you look even more beautiful.  Things began to feel more solemn in the new room as we knew our time with you was getting shorter and shorter.  The room was smaller.  Everyone was crowded together.  There was nothing to do now but wait.  We all waited in silence.  I was restless.  I stood, I sat, I walked around, I stared at you, I couldn’t stare at you, I played with your brother, I tried to keep myself under control.  My stomach was in knots.  Then, as I sat in the chair staring at the ground, I heard your daddy, with a tear filled voice, whisper a prayer of thanks to God for the time we had with you.  You were gone, and I felt my heart shatter into millions of pieces.  Loud hiccupping sobs began to escape from me.  My throat felt like it was on fire.  I couldn’t look at anyone, couldn’t talk to anyone, I could barely think.  I clenched my hands tightly, attempting to gain some control over my emotions, to no avail.  I wanted to cry, scream, and yes, punch things, but I felt like I couldn’t, not in front of everyone. 

Why God?  Why?

You, my little princess, had gone up to heaven, leaving us all missing you.  Eventually, I got up from the chair and stood staring at you, still wrapped up in a fuzzy pink blanket on your mommy’s lap.  You looked so perfect, you could have been sleeping.  “Do you want to hold her?”  I heard your mommy ask me.  I nodded, I couldn’t look at her.  She placed you in my arms and I held you tightly to me.  I turned away from the others and kissed your little face over and over again.  You were cold.  I cradled you closer and held still, hoping that I would miraculously feel you breathing again or feel your little heartbeat.  I kissed your little nose.  A young doctor came in.  She has a stethoscope with her and said that she needed to check on you.  She asked if I wanted to hold you while she checked and I nodded. 

  “Hi, Evie, hi pretty girl,” she whispered to you softly, “I like your outfit.”  She slipped the stethoscope under your shirt.  We all stood in silence for a solid minute.  The young doctor, with teary eyes, looked towards your mommy and daddy and shook her head, “I’m sorry.”

I let out fresh new tears as I kissed your forehead again and handed you back to your mommy.  My eyes became glued to the floor.  I heard everyone else talking around me.  I said nothing.  I couldn’t talk, couldn’t make eye contact.  Occasionally I would look away from the floor and over at you.  The pain and sadness in my heart felt as if it were about to smother me.  I wanted to leave, and yet, I didn’t want to leave because I knew that once I walked out that door, I would never see you on this earth again.  I glanced at the clock; it was around 4:00 in the morning.  Time had lost all meaning.  Everything felt sad and hollow. 

Before we left the hospital, I kissed your soft forehead one last time.  The pain of knowing I would never kiss it again was unbearable.  I walked through the hallway feeling like all the happiness had been sucked out of me for good.  I hated being alone with my thoughts.  The world seemed so dark, as if everything good and happy left it when you did.

I went to bed around 6:00 in the morning; the sun was already starting to peak out.  When I woke up, I thought of you and tears came to my eyes, but I also smiled.  I smiled because I was so thankful for the brief moments that we did get to share together.  And while a part of me will always ache for you, at least I have the hope that I will see you again one day. 

 

Friday, November 9, 2012

For My Niece


Ten perfect fingers, ten perfect toes

Pretty blue eyes and little round button nose.

Beautiful little girl with the soft fuzzy hair

My eyes, through the tears, do nothing but stare.

I’ve loved you from the moment I knew you existed

This moment is hard, but I would never have missed it.

Part of my heart belongs only to you

Sweet little girl, there’s so much we won’t do.

Touched for a moment, remembered forever

This is a storm I cannot bear to weather.

I’ll love you and miss you until the day I die

Beautiful little girl with the pretty blue eyes. 

Thursday, October 18, 2012

LIFE

Fun fact about me....my favorite board game is LIFE.  Some people think it is boring, but I absolutely love it!  But the strangest thing is...I never care about winning when I play!  For those of you who know me, you realize how incredibly odd that is.
 
Anyway, this is how my ideal game of life would go...
 
 
First, I would put myself in the little green car and head down the "Start College" path. 
 
After a couple spins, I would eventually land here
 
 
My career of choice would obviously be a teacher.  My salary card of choice would be $90,000 (because the $100,000 is only available to those jobs with a yellow colored rectangle).
 
Now on to the exciting stuff...
 
GET MARRIED!
I always make sure to name my husband.  The name varies from game to game.  Probably right now he'd be Josh Hutcherson ;)
 
A couple LIFE tiles and Pay Days later
 
 
I love this house!  It is so cute, simple, and cozy!  Be sure to buy insurance!
 
And now the game gets even more fun
Baby boy!
Baby girl!
Baby boy!
Baby girl!
 
I, of course, would not mind if I landed on every single baby square there was on the board (counting the twins and adoption!)...but for the blog's sake we'll stop at four kids.
 
After I've passed all the baby squares and the grandparents square, I am ready to retire...
in Countryside Acres!  I mean, doesn't  this little place seem so much cozier than the Millionaire Estates?
 
And that, my friends, is my ideal game of LIFE. 
 












Thursday, September 27, 2012

For Evie...

I wrote this a while ago and just hadn't brought myself around to posting it or showing anyone yet.  For some reason, this morning just feels like a good time...

For Evie...

I will not get to see you grow.

I’ll hold you for a moment and have to let you go.

Sweet little baby, how time moves so fast

Our first tender meeting will also be our last.

I wanted to buy you frilly dresses and bows

And paint pretty colors on your fingers and toes.

I wanted to watch you dance and run around at play

And make you feel better when your world seemed gray.

I would have delighted in your joy and cried in your grief

But our time on this world together will be so brief.

I don’t pretend to understand and I’m not afraid to cry.

I ask God every day the same question of “why?”

Why must I not get to see you grow?

Why must I hold you for a moment and let you go?

Sweet little girl, my heart’s treasure so dear,

Why are we not allowed to keep you right here?

All I can do is trust in God’s plan.

His power is greater than any of man.

I’ll rest in the comfort that one day I’ll see

You lovely in heaven, together eternally.

My niece, my Evie, I will not get to see you grow.

I’ll hold you for a moment and have to let you go. 

Saturday, September 15, 2012

Two Months


Two months.  Can it be only two months since my world felt like it was turned upside down?  Two months since my heart was shattered into thousands of seemingly irreparable pieces?  Two months since I felt the worst pain I have ever experienced, pain that exists constantly somewhere in the back of my heart and mind?  Yes, it has only been two months, though it feels as though it has been an eternity. 

I am not going to lie; these past two months have been incredibly difficult.  They have been full of anger, tears, frustration, hurt, stress, and unanswered questions.  I must say how proud I am of how strong my family has been, especially my amazing sister. With her broken hear and tear-filled eyes, she has been able to hold steadfast to her faith and, because of this, is an example of what all women should aspire to be.  I wish I could say that I have been that strong.  I wish I could say that I have clung to God for peace and turned to Him in my moments of need and pain these past two months.  Well, I suppose I could say all of those things and no one would know the difference…except for me…and except for God. 

Truthfully, to say that my faith has been a little rocky would be an understatement.  Everyday is a struggle.  I have to fight to keep faith, fight to trust God, fight to pray.  I know what I should do, I know what would be the smartest thing to do, but some moments of some days, I feel like I just can’t.  It is like this… I am in a tiny boat in the middle of a wide ocean during a hurricane.  I have no life jacket, and my boat has a little hole which will eventually cause it to sink.  Well, as I am sitting in that boat, I see a guy from somewhere (just work with me here) offering me a life jacket.  I know I should take it, I know it would be stupid not to take the life jacket because, without it, I will sink and die!  So that’s kind of what my days have been like…deciding whether or not I will take the life jacket I know God is holding out there for me.  One day I’ll eagerly reach for it, another day I’ll half-heartedly take it, other days I’ll blatantly refuse it and sit in the sinking boat with my arms crossed and eyebrow furrowed, and still other days I will take the life jacket for a while, throw it away, and then accept it again, and throw it away again (get the pattern?).

Honestly, I am not really looking forward to what the next few months may hold.  I am afraid of how much more that little boat in the ocean is going to have to be tossed.  I still have unanswered questions and stuff I will inevitably face, and things I will never understand.  All I know to do is keep fighting every single day not to completely lose hold of that life jacket…because I sure can’t swim very well!   

     

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

It's Back...

It's back.  The old familiar schooltime feeling that I am drowning in a sea of homework, a sea of busyness and stress...above all stress.  On top of everything else that has been happening in my life I feel like I am on the verge of exploding into chaos. 
A few weeks ago, I finished a devotional about overcoming worry and found it to be quite helpful and encouraging.  Certainly it will be easy to apply these tactics when school starts back up again...Oh how wrong I was!  If God is testing me to find out how well I can handle my stress, then I am failing miserably!
Ask anyone who has taken an 8 week Education course and they will tell you that it is no easy task...neither is taking two...neither is taking an additional 16 week course...and neither is having to complete a 15 hour practicum for each class!  Guess I picked a perfect time to actually try and establish a social life for the first time in my life...
I know things are only going to get harder (both with schoolwork and other not so distant events in my life) and right now, it feels as if I don't have enough strength to handle it all.  (Speaking of strength, my backpack is really heavy and makes my neck and shoulders ache!)
So, to anyone who actually reads this, I am asking you to just say a quick little prayer if I ever come to your mind.  Pray for me to handle my stress.  Pray for me to gain a proper perspective on school.  Pray for me not forget to lean on God.  And certainly keep praying for my little niece Evie and our whole family. 
Thank you all for letting me vent and thanks in advanced for praying!
May the odds be ever in your favor! (Sorry...just had to throw that in!)

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

"How Are You?"

   
 I am a ticking time bomb, ready at any moment to explode.  Tears of grief, frustration and furry threaten to spill over at the slightest shift of the floodgate.  I am both incredibly sensitive and insensitive.  A constant sadness and ache have, for the foreseeable future, made themselves a comfortable home in my heart.  I am at war within myself, seeking both to draw comfort from God and pull away from Him.  I wish to keep myself busy, distract my mind from the pain, and yet, when I am successful, feel a sensation of guilt because, why should I experience any amount of happiness when there is such sadness surrounding me? 

Every complaint and lament I have ever had seem completely frivolous.  I am so full of a thousand different emotions that I just want to unleash upon the world, and yet, I also want to keep them locked and bottled up inside.  I desperately search for the light at the end of this tunnel and am greeted only with more darkness.  I pray without ceasing because there is nothing else I can do and because, I am afraid that if I stop I won't start again. 

This is the real answer to the question "How are you?"  But, if you ask me, I will probably just say "I'm good.  How are you?"

Monday, July 23, 2012

This Past Week

This is post is a summary of the past week of my life...of what may be the worst week of my life so far.  For the sake of time and space, I will not be providing the complete back-story.  Please refer to this blog (my sister Sarah's blog) to find out more details about the situation...

Warning!  This post is likely to be quite long as I tend to have a lot to say...

What started out as an exciting and much anticipated day suddenly turned tragic when my sister came to us with bad news about my niece.  My sweet little Princess has developmental complications that will most likely result in her death shortly after birth.  It took a moment for that news to sink in, and once it did, tears that remained close at hand for the duration of the week flooded from my eyes.  I wanted nothing more than to be alone, to shut out the world and just cry...and cry...and cry.  So cry I did!  I shut myself in my room, curled into a ball on my bed and sobbed into my double bubble pillow.  My heart hurt so bad I could barely stand the pain.  I cried for the little girl I would never get to spoil with pretty dresses and tea parties.  I cried for the teenage girl I would never get to talk about boys with over boxes of chocolates and bowls of cookie dough.  I cried for the young woman I would never get to hug tight and congratulate after graduating high school.    I cried for the young woman who I would never get to see walking down the aisle at her wedding through my misty eyes.  And I cried for my sister, my sweet, wonderful sister who will have to carry her daughter for months knowing that she will only hold her in her arms a short while. 
Amisdt the sadness, there was another feeling slowly creeping up and consuming my entire soul and mind.  Anger.  Complete and total furry and anger.  Anger that was directed at God.  In my mind I screamed at Him.  Asked Him how He could let this happen?  WHY was He letting this happen?  It seemed so cruel, so viciously cruel that I just couldn't understand. 
I didn't read my Bible that night.  I didn't pray that night.  I knew that I should do those things, but I just couldn't, I was too angry.  Instead, I cried myself to exhaustion and woke up the next morning with puffy, red eyes.  I was still mad.  I stayed mad all day.  There was a constant heaviness and aching in my heart, a permanent lump in my throat.  I was furious.  It felt like nothing mattered, the world was gray and full of things to hate, people to yell at, things to complain about, and definitely things to cry about.  When my sister announced the name for the baby, Evie Caris, the pain reached a whole new level.  People tried to comfort me by saying the very thing that I have told many people in difficult situations, that it will all work together for God's plan, that He has a reason for everything He does.  On the outside I would positively acknowledge their statement, when on the inside I was livid.  How can this situation work together for good?  And whatever God's "big plan" is why couldn't He think of another way to do it?  I mean He is GOD after all! 
These thoughts stayed with me.  They swam in my mind all day and all night.  Anger, Sadness, and Tears were all I knew for the entire week.  Nothing truly made me happy and I felt that nothing would ever again.  I had no hope, and no faith.  I didn't read my Bible.  I didn't pray.  I just wanted to shut God completely out of my life.  He was the reason this was happening and I wanted nothing to do with Him.  Even holding hands while my father prayed for the evening meals would leave me biting my nip or digging my finger nails into my hands to hold back my resentment. 
I kept all of this inside.  I didn't want anyone to know how much I was struggling, especially since I have always been that good Christian girl who seems like she has it all together.  I really didn't want my sister to know because, like a good sister, she always worries about me and I thought God had given her enough to worry about already.  So I lived out an entire week in this fashion.  Hating the world, wanting to punch things, and absolutely despising God for bringing this on my family. 
Still, through it all, I knew that God was trying to pull my back.  A while ago I had signed up to receive Bible verses via text message and randomly one day I received two in a row.  One made reference to calling to God in times of trouble, the other encouraged looking in God's Word for answers.  Every day I would see someone post a verse on facebook that was entirely applicable to my situation.  I knew God wanted me to come to Him, but I wasn't ready, I just didn't want to.  I hated walking into church on Sunday, not only because I anticipated the morning cry fest of hugs, I'm sorrys, and how are you doings, but because it was church, and God would definitely be there. 
Then, all of a sudden, after a week of such intense and terrible pain, it started to get better.  I was on my morning run when I all of a sudden felt an incredible urge and longing to pray.  So I did.  I asked God to forgive me for my anger and awful attitude the past week.  I thanked Him for my many blessings and asked Him to help my family through this tough situation.  I asked Him to bless Evie and, if it is in His will, to provide a miracle for that sweet little girl.  But most importantly, I asked Him to help me accept whatever He has planned because I know it will be good in the end and to help me never to stray so far away again.  After that, I felt a sense of peace that has stayed with me all day.  Sure, I am still saddened by the situation and have teared up occasionally today, but I no longer feel the same profound hurt and betrayal. 
I am thankful for the people who I know have been praying for me and my family and ask that you continue to do so as we still will have hard times ahead.    

Congratulations!  You read that entire post!  Hopefully I will have something more lighthearted to post next time!