"Beauty from Ashes"

  Isaiah 40:11
" He shall feed his flock like a shepherd: he shall gather the lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and shall gently lead those that are with young. "

 Since Joscelyn went home to be with Jesus so much has happened. A lot of difficult emotions and questions have come up. Many of which I figured wouldn't be an issue. Alas, losing a child is not something that is easily accepted or welcomed for that matter, so I guess the unexpected becomes the expected.
  A lot of people have asked us along the way how we're doing, and honestly overall we have been good. Not great, not overjoyed, but just good. Right now though I am angry. At times I have felt the deepest rage at God for taking my baby and not healing her heart for her to stay here and fill my ever-so-empty and heavy arms. I've screamed at Him and bore my soul to the one Who created me and begged Him to take me too. Especially when we had to move out of the home she was born in only 5 short months after she was born, and then finding out that her headstone was installed on my birthday. Some days the pain I feel is beyond physical comprehension and I wonder if I'll ever be the same. The truth? No. I won't ever be the same. And I've come to realize and embrace that fact. I may not and most likely will not have any or all answers this side of Heaven. But, OH! How badly I demand them at times!!
   There is one, no two incidences that occurred shortly after she passed that I have felt needed to be shared to show how loving and gracious my Father is. It was exactly seven weeks after my due date with Joscelyn and I was serving coffee at our church during the week of Bible School. I didn't want to be there, but I wanted to help. Up until this time I felt like everywhere I went people stared. I now had a label. It felt like I had a giant neon sign above my head that told the world,"This is the lady that lost her baby, and her prayer wasn't answered." It was awful. I didn't know how to let go, trust God with her, and allow Him to heal my heart. It was even effecting my marriage. I felt unimportant, insignificant, unloved, even completely disregarded by my Maker. The final night of Bible School arrived and I found myself surrounded by a sea of people and happy children, and I was still wondering why in the world God wanted me there. All of sudden a lady with an incredibly kind face came up and asked if she could talk to me. I said,"Sure", assuming that she was going to say something to the fact that she saw our story on Facebook and was really touched, etc. What she ended up saying blew my mind and was straight from the mouth of God. She went on to say,"I don't know who you are, but every time I see you and even just coming into the room this evening, I get this overwhelming sense that God has something that is very precious to you. (Joscelyn's middle name, Pearl, meant Precious and that name was spoken to me by God Himself....crazy!) I feel like I'm supposed to tell you that He has it and it's okay. He loves you and you are precious to Him." I stared at her like a deer in headlights and asked her,"You don't know who I am??" "No", she said. I then proceeded to tell her how we just lost our little baby girl and we hugged and both bawled our eyes out.  I told Brenton as soon as I was on my way home, and we were both freaking out.
     The other incident involved a missionary from India that we had never met. After hearing him share his story we were talking with him and he looked straight at me and said,"God heals the broken hearted. He's going to restore what was taken from you." Totally Holy Spirit led and God ordained. Divine intervention that has healed my heart over and over. God is a roaring lion when His children are hurting and I heard Him loud and clear.  
     My label has become a blessing, in fact. Even Jesus had a label. They don't need to be a bad thing. God can and does make beauty from ashes. What matters is how we allow God to use our labels, our wounds, our life story that He's writing to bring Him ultimate glory and honor and make us better. He has called me to put our story into words and while it can be the hardest thing to do at times, I always wait for His nudging to continue with the next blog post and it brings new healing each time. God is the ultimate healing and is healing me in my time of being angry. It's definitely not something I thought I'd go through, but like I said earlier,"The unexpected starts to become the expected." And God is always there waiting for me in my next stage of grief. Even though I can't always sense Him there, I know He's walking me through. Today is a new day, a better day. And I thank God for bringing me through the last 7.5 months with relatively minor injuries. There's still a LOT of healing to take place......but He's getting me there. He is and always was Good, and Gracious, and Gentle with His flock. 

Baby Warrior

I've been wanting to share the letter/testimony that I wrote to Joscelyn in honor of the impact that she made in our lives and in the lives of so many people around us. I've titled this blog "Baby Warrior" because that's who Joscelyn was to me. She was a fighter, a little hero....my little warrior. I still can't believe I shared this at her funeral, especially since I had literally just given birth several days earlier and was a constant puddle of tears, but hey, when the Spirit moves you, you better MOVE. And it really was okay. It was healing actually, and I didn't do it for me. She deserved this. She deserved to be honored, to be spoken for. Most of all God deserved it and more. He deserves to have her in His arms. He deserves all the honor, glory, and praise for the life He gave us even though it was short. He IS worthy....even if I have a hard time understanding how or why, He just is. After all, He is the Potter, and we are the clay. He the Creator, we the creation. It's ALL His. Can you grasp that? I have a hard time wrapping my brain around that. But if we can somehow let that penetrate that every single fiber of our being is for God's glory, for His purpose, to bring HIM praise.....maybe we wouldn't freak out so much when things don't go according to how WE have planned if we kept that mindset and spirit of reverence and awe. Easier said than done, I know.....but it's worth thinking and mulling over. Just think about it. Not our will, but HIS be done.

" I don't consider myself to be an excellent or eloquent speaker by any means, but my prayer is that what I have to say would bless you, shed some light on our journey with Joscelyn, and above all, glorify our Father, our Healer, in Heaven.
     My dearest Joscelyn,
   I knew from the very first moment that I found out that I was pregnant with you that you would bring us so much joy! Not only did you do just that, but you brought to us an encounter with Christ in the short 9 months that I carried you and felt your life in my womb, and the four and a half hours that we held you in our arms. That encounter changed us in ways we never imagined possible. We learned about faith, full surrender, and unrestrained trust in our Creator and Father in Heaven. We have seen the heart of our Father and have felt His immense, undeserved grace and peace through this entire journey. When darkness seemed to cloud over, His light would always shine brighter. Never once did we ever walk alone. Your heart wasn't perfect for this earth, but it was perfect for the purpose that God had for you to fulfill in that short amount of time that He blessed us with. Isaiah 55: 10-12 says,

'As the rain and the snow

    come down from heaven,

and do not return to it

    without watering the earth

and making it bud and flourish,

    so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,

11 

so is my word that goes out from my mouth:

    It will not return to me empty,

but will accomplish what I desire

    and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.

12 

You will go out in joy

    and be led forth in peace;

the mountains and hills

    will burst into song before you,

and all the trees of the field

    will clap their hands.'

We glorify and praise God for fulfilling that purpose of using you to show us more of Himself--His word did not return empty. After everything is said and done, we can say and full heartedly believe that our God is and always was GOOD, He is HEALER, and He is more than worthy of our praise. You impacted our lives more than anyone we've ever met, and I will forever treasure and feel so honored and blessed to be you mother and call you my daughter. Your name was given to us by God and means joy, health, and long life. God has answered and fulfilled His promise to you of healing as well as long life with Him in Heaven where you are safely resting, completely whole, in the arms of Jesus. We have such an amazing peace and true joy right now and it's only because of Jesus. Until we see your beautiful face again, dance with Jesus, sweet Joscelyn, dance until I can one day dance with you in Heaven. We love you so much and thank our Father for blessing our lives with you but for a moment. 

   Remember Joscelyn for the peace and the joy that she brought to us and that her purpose was fulfilled on this earth as fleeting as the time was. We desire to honor God because of His gift of Joscelyn and because of who He is through worship so please join us now to do just that and I pray that you can catch a glimpse of what Heaven will be like and know the heart of our Father as we have experienced it. Thank you all for being here with us. We are beyond blessed to have you here, not only today, but for walking with us and praying for us through this entire journey. We love you all so much."

  The last several sentences still hold truth today. To everyone who has sent cards, texts, emails, flowers...oh! the flowers!, brought food, prayed and prayed some more...you will never know how much healing and love we felt through those acts of kindness. Thank you just doesn't feel sufficient. I pray God pours out His blessings abundantly for how you've blessed us, and that when you get to Heaven you hear Him say,  “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’ "

I'm including the songs we sang at Joscelyn's funeral so feel free to listen and worship right where you're at. Never have I felt the Holy Spirit like I did when we sang these songs and worshipped God with our baby before our final goodbye here on earth. I pray you feel it too. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rWPABE3gycs

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_ZEltZXQpuM

The Grave is Not Final

     Truth be told, I do not want to be back here again. I don't want to be reliving this part of our journey. For me, it is the most difficult part to have to put into words. God doesn't build character and faith in us by giving us easy roads to walk, this I know to be true.
     She was born early at 1:07am on April 23, and passed away around 5:40am. We decided that the funeral would be on Friday, April 26th at 4:00pm. We also decided to have a closed casket service because we chose not to have her embalmed. We knew how hard it was to let her go when the funeral home had to come pick up her little body, and with how much death showed its definite signs, we didn't want to remember her that way. The hard decisions kept coming. To view or not to view, what kind of casket do we want, what burial plot did we want..... She would be buried in the angel garden area in our church's cemetery with several other babies that had gone on before her. Looking back now I don't see how on earth I made it through those days of her being born and then burying her several days after. I had an incredible amount of energy and physical strength that I know was by the grace of God so that I could feel somewhat normal. The flowers started arriving at our house, and were such sweet, beautiful reminders of our little Joscelyn. Our house literally smelled like a giant lily. It was awesome. I know now at least one reason why God created flowers. They have a way of bringing so much beauty and peace in the midst of chaos and heartbreak. Brenton and I tried our best to get as much sleep as we could between processing everything that was happening, plans for a funeral that had to be made, and a day coming up that nobody really anticipated or looked forward to.
     Family started to arrive, several dear friends from other states flew down to attend the funeral. Words will never be able to dictate how much that meant to me. Thursday, April 25, my dear friend Jeanna stole me away for most of the day. She treated me to breakfast at First Watch after which she proceeded to pamper me with a manicure, pedicure, and a new dress and sandles to wear to Joscelyn's funeral. Bandages to my wounded heart. Kindness that has left an eternal impression on me. She told me that she and her husband wanted to pay for me to have my hair done before we went to the funeral......more bandages. This along with meals being brought in, a dear friend that came down after having suffered a miscarriage only weeks before Joscelyn was born, gifts for the twins, etc., literally made us feel like were picked up and carried through those hard days.
   And then Friday morning came. I woke up early and made some coffee and read a little in my Bible before I just melted into a puddle of tears thinking I couldn't possibly do what was going to be required of me that day. Thankfully, I was never alone in any of it. Brenton was off of work the whole week, thank the Lord, and was my rock even though he, too, was trying to be strong. By the grace of God, we survived and came out breathing, barely. :) I began working on a short testimony that I felt God was prompting me to share at the funeral. This terrified me, but I knew I had to do it for Joscelyn, for those attending, and to give insight on our journey with our little angel. I got dressed in the dress and shoes that our sweet friends gifted me with. Fuchsia. I chose a vibrant fuchsia for the twins and me to wear to our sweet girl's funeral. I refused to wear black. I wanted it to be a celebration and a remembrance of her life as short as it was. Our friends joined us in this and it made my spirit soar being surrounded by their support.We arrived at the church just as the funeral director was pulling into the lane with our little baby girl. As we set up a little display of pictures and flowers on her casket, Kirra and Kiana played happily in the background. They were the sweetest, happiest little angels that day. The service was the most peaceful, spirit-felt funeral I have ever been a part of. My sister sang "Healer" by Kari Jobe, our pastor read Joscelyn's obituary, Brenton's dad shared a short devotional, then I shared my testimony after which we had a few songs of praise and worship. We chose "Came to My Rescue" by Hillsong and "Beautiful" by Phil Wickham. Songs that speak exactly how we felt and that I will forever cherish. It was such a beautiful, sunny day. I know that God made the day perfect for us.
     After the service we made our way to the graveside. Brenton and I carried Joscelyn's little casket out of the funeral director's van and placed it gently onto the boards that were the only thing separating her body from the ground 4 feet below. And then they lowered the casket ever so slowly into the ground. Brenton, the twins, and I each dropped a white rose onto her casket and then they began to cover it up. Shovel after shovel of dirt slowly burying our baby girl that I had just given birth to only a few short days ago. A father and mother bury their daughter, grandparents bury their granddaughter.....sisters say goodbye to their little sister that they'll never get to giggle and share secrets with. I went up and took the shovel from a friend that so sweetly helped bury our little angel. I'll never forget the sound of that shovel scraping against the dirt and wood. Part of me is haunted my it. Part of me clings to the reality and vividness of that moment. The moment that forever physically separated us. As we sat down and watched others take turns burying our baby, I wanted to scream!!! I wanted to dig her out of that pile of dirt and never let her go! My baby was NOT supposed to be in there!! Instead I sat there with empty arms and a swollen belly from what once held life and now nothing. I felt anger, peace, and rage all at once. Anger at what sin has done and the imperfections of our human bodies. Rage against the separation that death creates, but peace in knowing that it's not the end. There was so much peace. That unmistakable peace that was our Father surrounding us and sustaining us. After the burial was finished, we released a white dove as a symbol of us releasing Joscelyn. Our little bird was free, indeed. Death does not have the final say. Thank you, Jesus, it does not have the final say.

Blessed to walk this journey with this man.

The little hands and feet that forever left an impression on our hearts.

Rays of sunshine in our darkest hours.

A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity. Proverbs 17:17

This means so so much to me. Krystle, I love you.

And Marie.....dear Marie. You are such a treasure.

Father and Son bearing a burden together.

Taking flowers home as a keepsake.

The grave in not final. Until we meet again, my sweet Joscelyn.....

Free as a bird

Goodbye For Now

    The hours and several days that passed after Joscelyn went to be with Jesus were by far the hardest moments I've ever lived. So much of it just felt like a whirlwind of emotions. There was peace amidst inner turmoil. Love amidst gut-wrenching pain. Our friends, they're more like family really, immediately took action to make things as "bearable" for us as possible. One kindly went and bought breakfast for everyone in the house while another went and bought groceries that more than stocked our fridge. Simple acts of kindness to some, but blessings from Heaven for us. We spent time holding, cuddling, and drinking in every teeny tiny detail we could before we'd have to let her go. Our pastor came over and so kindly went over the details of planning her funeral and what decisions we'd have to make. Plans that no parent ever thinks about making or having to put thought into....especially on the very same day you give birth. Our midwife, Harmony, was an angel and a half. When the paramedics and police had to come and pronounce her dead and make sure nothing suspicious happened, she handled it with ease and made the process so much easier to go through. Even the policeman and paramedics that came in were such gentlemen....so kind and respectful and moved to tears for the little body that just several hours earlier had surged with life.
     We dressed her in a special little white dress with pink butterflies and a little matching grey sweater that fit her tiny body perfectly. Even the girls helped out. We sang songs to her and took her hand and foot prints in hot pink ink that beautifully decorates the baby book that only got partially filled. Krystle kindly came over around 2:30pm after a long night of photographing the birth to take newborn and family pictures for us. Pictures that say a thousand words and are very dear to my heart. Then, as death's darkness began taking over her little body, we knew it was time to call the funeral home to come take her so we wouldn't remember her that way. More hard decisions. Around 4:00pm a young man from the funeral home came by to take her. He brought in a simple, delicate, white casket to place her in. I thought I could do it, but I just couldn't. I didn't have the strength to physically place my baby in that box. I sobbed as I handed her over to Brenton, and he ever so gently placed her inside and shut the lid. He carried her outside to the van that waited to take her away. That was the last time we would see and hold our sweet baby on this earth.
     That night we didn't sleep much at all. We both clung desperately to Jesus and the pink blanket we had wrapped her in. Our tears put us to sleep as we reminisced about our sweet baby and cried out to Jesus to sustain us. Deep, mind-numbing pain. I know now in a small part how God must have felt when His Only Son died on that rugged cross, knowing that it had to be done for my redemption. For your redemption. A good friend of mine told me that "God never wastes pain." Words that have resonated with me again and again. He brings "beauty from ashes" and I believe that without pain, we would never see beauty. If it wouldn't be for the hard steps He asks us to take in life, we would never change, or grow, or become refined from the pain that often times goes hand in hand with those steps. Pain is necessary. And it can be good. If we let the Master use it for good. I always said that if this is what would bring God the most glory then I want to be all in. Being all in requires losing yourself to gain Christ.....not an easy processs, and I have by no means reached this, but I'm getting there. The more I lose of myself and this life to gain Christ, as hard and painful as it may be, I know that there is beauty coming.....one day.

Ready or Not.....Here She Comes!!

     I have to admit, I've been avoiding this post for a while. Some of the memories are far too precious and oh so hard to relive in my mind at times, let alone share on a blog for the public eye and mind to read. But, I know that this part of the story is by far the best as hard as it may be to share. I only pray I can honor God and Joscelyn's short little life to the best of my abilities with these words and tears.

     There's nothing that completely enraptures one's soul than that of a newborn child, your own newborn child. It forever changes the way you see the world, your life, and the heart of God. To know that your child was so intricately and delicately woven together by the Master's tender hands is so beautiful, and then, when the time is just right, He presents His masterpiece to you on their birthday as if to say, "Okay, here's the finished product of my love, my heart, and my gift to you." It's even more incredible when you're expecting a miracle for a miracle. Each and every child is a miracle. Even when they gave us the option to abort our sweet girl, we knew that wasn't even an option....no matter what we would face. That wasn't our call to make. None of it was.
     We tried so hard not to get impatient as we waited for God to show us His finished masterpiece and let Joscelyn make her debut. We took walks in the evenings hoping to induce the much anticipated labor and while my mom pulled the twins in their wagon I waddled behind them holding Brenton's hand and trying not to feel like a giant, sweaty elephant sauntering down the road. It was great, and painful all at the same time! :) And then it started. The gradual increase of contractions telling me that it was time. The masterpiece was done and our baby was finally going to show her face at last. I called my midwife and told her it was time. My mom gathered up the twins and took them to a friend's house so it would just be Brenton, Harmony(my midwife), Jessica(midwife assistant), and Krystle(photographer) present at the labor and birth. Harmony arrived, we filled up the birthing pool, and labor was in full swing. I was surrounded by Scriptures on our wall, we listened to worship music as I labored, and I know that Jesus was there with us. I remember thinking at one point, "What was I THINKING when I thought a home birth would be great??!!! This is crazy!" Haha....as crazy as it seemed in those 4/4.5 hours of labor, it was hands down, the best thing I have EVER experienced. Brenton was the most amazing, supportive, and just all around amazing birth coach/partner God ever put by my side. There's no way I could have done what I did without him there. I'll spare you all the gory details, but what I will say is that our little Joscelyn, although small and fragile, was a fast, furious, and ready-to-get-out-and-see-the-world little firecracker!! My water broke at 1:03, and she was born and 1:07. I pushed once. Just once and she was born. Beautifully crying, perfect little angel. Hearing her cry was the sweetest sound to ever reach our ears. We were so overwhelmed and thrilled to meet her. Brenton cried more than I did. No lie. We could tell as soon as she was born that she was a fighter, but she wasn't normal. I held her close, told her how perfect and beautiful she was. I told her how much I loved her, and then we prayed. We prayed harder than we've ever prayed in our entire lives for God to heal our child, and give her a miracle of healing. As she showed us signs of her weakness shortly after birth, I started speaking the name of Jesus over her. I know and believe there is power in the name of Jesus. So did she. That little girl knew who her Father was, and she responded to His name. As helpless as she was, she knew nothing more than how to respond to the name of Jesus and the love we gave her. She immediately became more alert and opened her eyes to look at us. We weren't guaranteed even an hour with her, but God gave us a miracle of four and a half precious hours with our baby.
     Within an hour and a half of her being born, we were surrounded by 15 of our closest friends and family. These people prayed, sang, and walked through some of the most intense hours of our life with us. To our warriors: Gary and Joyce Helmuth, Emily Campbell, Chalee Root, Matt and Jen Mast, Keisha Helmuth, Zach and Jeanna Helmuth, Ryan and Rebecca Mayer, Angela Menzie, Linda Menzie, and our girls.....and to everyone else who prayed us through, thank you just doesn't feel like enough. She didn't have her eyes open for long but it was long enough to make a lasting impression on me and give me one of the sweetest memories of her short life. The second was that of her grabbing my finger with her tiny hand. That too lasted for just a fleeting second, but I'll never forget it. Everyone got a chance to hold her while she was alive, thank you Jesus, and we spent our time drinking in and savoring every detail of her and giving her as much peace, comfort, and love as we possibly could. She had a head full of thick dark hair, the sweetest nose and ears, and little rolls of baby fat on her legs and arms. She was such a beautiful baby. We knew there was still time for her to be miraculously healed, but it wasn't meant to be here on this earth. I remember when Harmony told us that her heart was failing her little body, and we knew she would be gone soon. She rested peacefully on her daddy's chest and each time she exhaled, it was as if she was singing to us. So, so sweet. It's so beautiful and amazing to me that she knew and loved her daddy and found comfort in resting on his chest even though I physically carried her in my womb. She knew her earthly father just like she knew her Heavenly Father. Harmony weighed her to find out she weighed a whopping 6lbs 1oz! Compared to the twins this was a big deal for me. :) After she was weighed, Harmony handed her back to me and as I held her, I felt my sweet baby take one last breath before she passed on into the loving arms of Jesus. Forever at peace....forever made whole....forever loved. His masterpiece was finished.
     I thank God for giving us a miracle of four and a half hours with His precious gift to us. Even though letting her go was one of the hardest things we've ever experienced, I know that it's not the end. I know that one day we WILL get to see her and hold her again and we won't ever have to let go again.

Dance with Jesus, my sweet Joscelyn, dance until one day I can dance with you in Heaven.

Marching On

     As we neared the 32/33 week mark in my pregnancy, it was time for us to meet with the cardiac surgeon and take a tour of the hospital and recovery floor for infant heart patients. We made the trek up to St. Pete to hear and see what the road would look like if we continued to pursue intervention after Joscelyn was born. With every appointment there was always a deeper sense of peace before and during our meetings with the specialists. Even though we had to work through things after our appointments, there was always peace and grace there when we needed it. We sat down with the cardiac surgeon and he began to tell us what he was expecting and gave us his professional opinion as to how severe her heart and lung condition were at this point and what her chances of survival were if we intended to stick with intervening. Thank the Lord, he was such a sweet, encouraging doctor to work with. He proceeded to tell us that based on her condition, her lungs would have to be absolutely PERFECT in order for her to survive the first procedure they would perform and if she would survive, there would be multiple surgeries that would follow and probably would ultimately end in her not surviving the first months or year of her life. She had a 10-20% chance of actually surviving that first surgery. They could only do so much before they would only be practically torturing someone to try to save them. We knew that based on one of her EKGs, her lungs weren't developing the best so her first surgery obviously would not have been a success. The surgeon kindly told us we have to decide what is best for our family and that they will support us and assist us in every way possible with whatever we decide.....basically choose doctors or leave it up to God. I can't tell you how much relief we felt not being pressured or forced into a decision that we weren't sure or didn't feel good about. I remember walking past the rooms that held teeny tiny little babies on life support after their heart surgeries and it tore me to pieces. I thought to myself, "This isn't going to be my baby. I can't do this. I can't prepare for something like this." Then we saw the parents' of those babies sitting by their cribs completely blanketed with fatigue and heartbreak. I have the utmost respect for them and others who are and have walked that hard road not knowing what the outcome will be. So we prayed. We prayed hard and sought God's leading in where He wanted us to be knowing that either way wouldn't be an easy road, but we knew we wouldn't walk it alone. About a week later we met back with the cardiologist and told her that we felt like we weren't supposed to pursue intervention, but rather pursue a peaceful, personal birth and leave it up to God, still believing and expecting miraculous healing. She respected our decision but we could tell she thought we were crazy and that we wouldn't see that miracle outside of an operating room.
     From there we went back to the birthing center in hopes of having her there versus the rushed, more stressful setting of a hospital. At this point we both weren't open to the option of a home birth at all. lol It's funny how God leads you to do things you never dream you will. At 37 weeks we found out that our only options would be either a home birth or a hospital as my midwife couldn't deliver Joscelyn under the birthing center license due to her condition. If we went with a hospital birth I would have to find a new OB to deliver Joscelyn and I would have to establish a new relationship with a new doctor and still try to have a peaceful birth and final few weeks of my pregnancy. We both felt like this just wasn't an option especially since we weren't going to intervene and being at home would be the most personal and peaceful experience for us all. Let me just add that for Brenton to agree to this and support this is HUGE! Practically an act of God because the poor man, as much as he loves his girls, cannot handle everything that's involved in the whole birthing experience. But he was a champ and a half and handled it like a pro!! By far the best birthing coach I could have asked for! :) (More on that in another post.)
     My mom came down when I was about 38.5 weeks preggo and stayed with us for 3 weeks and oh my word, what an amazing blessing it was having her here! If I can grow to be have the servant she is, I'll be happy. She is my hero and I admire her so incredibly much. Because of her, I have learned how to be strong but also to be real. Sugar coat nothing. Embrace life and all of it's trials. It's the trials that refine, not define, us. Embrace, learn, and then move on and let God lead you. One of my prayers during my pregnancy was that if this journey that God brought to us was for His ultimate glory, and it always is, then I wanted to be all in....completely submerged and submitted. "Bring it on," I said. My life is not my own, but is a gift from God. I am simply a vessel here on this earth to glorify His kingdom and His name. Heaven is the ultimate goal, and my life is His story to write.
     As my due date drew near, we made all the necessary preparations for a home birth and started the waiting game. We had to have hospice on call because death was expected but not by us. We explained to them as well where we were at with things and what we were expecting, and no, we weren't crazy. Thankfully, the nurse we were connected with is a believer and prayed for us as well. Yet another gift from God. It was so hard making preparations like that because of what we were praying for and expecting. But we also knew that as long as the doctors didn't see a difference, this is what we had to do for legal reasons. So, with hospice on call, my midwife a phone call away, and my mom here to take care of the girls when the time arrived, we, along with so many family and friends, awaited the much anticipated arrival of our little Joscelyn Pearl.

Thanksgiving Came and Went

     As we tried to absorb the news we received and go into Thanksgiving mode, we couldn't help but walk around with a giant question mark on our faces. We took some family pictures that day and tried our best to join in the family festivities but it was so unbelievably hard. We had an EKG scheduled for the following Friday and it seemed to be this daunting black hole that I somehow had to muster up the courage to free fall into as I anticipated the appointment. Over the next several days and week, I completely submerged myself in Scripture. My God was/is the same God that He was thousands of years ago, and all those miracles He performed can and do still happen today so why not ask for it and expect it? I also received a lot of encouragement and was challenged by a few people about praying and believing in His healing power and standing on His promises in spite of what loomed over us. Okay, that's what I needed to do...trust and believe the same way that I do about my eternal salvation and destination. This will work, right?? In the next days that followed I had several specific incidences that were confirmation to me that He had heard my cry for help and healing and would answer. He not only gave me the name Pearl which means "precious, health and long life," but He confirmed His power through one of my friends on the morning of my EKG. I had been praying Psalm 77:14 ("You are the God Who performs miracles; You display your power among the peoples.") constantly He spoke it again through a text message. "Okay, God, I believe you. You've got this and I'm fully believing that you're going to prove these doctors wrong and they'll see a fully functioning, four-chambered heart." My first EKG came and we went with great anticipation and expectation of God's power in giving us a miracle. I had a paper with several Scriptures written on it and prayed them the entire time before during and after my EKG that God would open the eyes of the doctors to see that she was whole, that there was nothing wrong with her. We found out, however, that she did in fact have four chambers, but the left two were underdeveloped. She was diagnosed with Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome with an intact atrial septum. Not much hope was given to her survival unless we pursued extensive surgery and even then her chances of living were very, very slim. Surprisingly though, we weren't phased at all as the doctor drew for us a diagram of her heart and explaining to us in detail of what was going on and what surgeries they would need to perform in order to try and save her. I know our cardiologist thought we had to be crazy or just plain ignorant of what she was telling us. :) The peace of God was so strong that day! We knew that we didn't have to worry. Our God was bigger and better than these doctors and what they couldn't promise, He could!!

     Over the course of the next several months I had several more EKGs done and each time her prognosis just seemed to keep getting worse instead of showing any signs of improvement. I refused to succumb to the doubts, fears, and disbelief that raged against me. I literally felt like I was in such a strong mental and spiritual battle from then on. I blocked out anything negative that tried to make me doubt or question God's promise to heal. I believed and was completely convinced that I would see a miracle before she was born. Between the months of December and February, we experienced so much change, peace, and undeserved grace it was unbelievable. We were desperate for Christ. It's one of the best, hardest, and most effective place we can be. Desperate. Completely stripped bare of any "control" we think us mare humans can have on our lives. Desperate for an answer. Desperate for God to show us SOMETHING, ANYTHING that would make sense. And He did. He told us to stay put when we considered and were extremely close to moving to Indiana. He showered us with gifts, food, a roof over our heads when the house we were renting needed to be treated for termites, prayer warriors and friends to bear this burden with us. We were never alone. There was always, and I mean ALWAYS a shoulder to cry on, friends to lift us up and surround us with prayer, or a word of confirmation whether it was through a song, a friend, etc. He was right there with us the entire time. On December 9th, we had an anointing service at church for healing for our precious little girl. That same day, the Holy Spirit made it very clear to Brenton and me that we were right where we needed to be. That Bethel was our "home" and that our church was our "family." We felt so incredibly loved and blessed and encouraged that day. Even the anointing service was an experience I'll never forget. Jesus was there. He was real. He heard every single petition that was made on our behalf. My faith was made even stronger.

     After we got "resettled" in knowing that Florida was home for us, we had to look for another place to live because the house we were renting was in the process of being sold. Talk about having your world turned upside down! lol I look back now and wonder how in the world did we do it?? We didn't. We were in a million pieces trying to stay strong and hang on to our hope in Christ with every fiber of our being. And He came through yet again. He provided us with another house that lined up with our budget, He provided work and business for Brenton to start on his own. And it was over this time that He gave us her first name, Joscelyn, which means "joy and righteous." We had so many "wow" moments, and yet, I battled with the fact that I hadn't seen my miracle. It had been decided that because of Joscelyn's condition, I would be delivering at All Children's Hospital in St. Pete where they would whisk her away immediately after birth and perform surgery to try to repair her heart. So, I had to start making the 45 minute commute to St. Petersburg once a week and have an EKG done once a month only to prove that her condition wasn't changing but was in fact getting worse. She was growing well otherwise, but her heart was not. I was determined to stay faithful, stay strong, and stand on God's Word and His countless promises of healing. There were many times after my appointments that I would sit and cry my eyes out wondering why in the world we didn't see anything different on that ultrasound screen. Am I not praying enough? Do I not have enough faith? God, what are you trying to do?? Do you even hear me? I knew and believed that even up until the very last minute God could still give us a miracle. But did I seriously have to wait for that last minute? So many times He took me back to Matthew 9 where the woman that suffered from bleeding for 12 years reached out and brushed the hem of His garment, and Jesus told her, "Woman, your faith has healed you." (paraphrased) How I so longed to be able to just reach out and touch the hem of His garment and have my baby healed. I would've done anything to be able to do it. I felt like my way of touching His hem was being totally consumed and enraptured by Scripture and praying and believing in a miracle for healing. I refused to listen to any story or anything that was the opposite of what we were praying for. I wouldn't speak or think anything else because it felt like I would be going directly against what we were believing in and praying for. We were beginning to wonder if we were really supposed to be pursuing intervention at all based on her prognosis and the fact that it felt like we were praying for one thing, yet preparing for something else. (But that's for another blog.)

     As time passed by.....painfully slow at times, I knew that it would be at the very last minute that I would see my miracle. My strength was not of my own. Had it not been for Christ and our countless prayer warriors lifting us up, I would've crumbled like a ton of bricks. "....my grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." (2 Corinthians 12:9) At one of my EKGs, my cardiologist looked at me at the end of my appointment and said, "Get strong. You have a long, hard road ahead of you." Get strong.....how was I possibly supposed to get any stronger??!! I remember vividly a picture that God gave me one day as I was washing dishes and praying. Jesus was walking along the beach/this road we were on, but He was alone. He reached out His hand and asked me to take His hand and walk this road with Him, so I did. But it got too hard for me to keep walking and I grew weak. I then saw that He had picked me up and was carrying me as I was still carrying Joscelyn. As I rested my weary head on His shoulder, he whispered to me, "We're almost there, my child, we're almost there......but not yet." That is my strength. Knowing that Christ carried me so many times gave me strength to walk that hard, heart breaking road. He is my Cornerstone. My Jehovah Jirah. I pray that I will ALWAYS be desperate for Him.

Okay, here goes. I've been avoiding this for quite some time....only a month, but it feels longer than that. Maybe out of fear of feeling vulnerable....again, fear of going into the depths of my heart and pulling out what God has taught me through the most gut-wrenching pain a mother can bear and sharing it to whomever cares to take a gander, and hoping that it inspires you and brings you to the cross, to my sweet Jesus. I can't promise even a weekly post, but I can promise to be real, to be open, and to do my best to share with you our journey over the last roughly 10-11 months. Without further adieu, here I am....taking the plunge. So grab a cup of coffee, or a box of tissues, if you need, and read away. Thanks for stopping by and I pray that as you read you will be encouraged, challenged, inspired, and see the heart of our Father through our journey with Joscelyn.

   I remember the day just like it was yesterday......I waited anxiously as those little lines filled in on the pregnancy test to reveal whether or not baby #3 was baking or if I'd have to wait a bit longer before God blessed us with another little Graber. Oh the JOY and complete excitement I felt surge through me when I saw that it was positive!! I had been wanting another baby, surprisingly enough after surviving twins, for several months. Here we were in August 2012 anticipating yet another baby. My mind started going 100 mph like all of us preggo mammas minds do the second we discover a wee one is in the making. What will it look like? How shall I decorate the nursery this time? Is it a boy this time or is it another girl? God, please let it be a boy. Brenton NEEDS more testosterone in this house. As we ventured into the process of welcoming baby #3 I decided to go with a birthing center this time around because #1) it was just one baby, #2) it wasn't high risk...or so I thought, and #3) it would be so much more low key for me than a hospital setting which usually unnerves me. Ha, wow, looking back now, I really had no clue what God was going to ask of us. Funny how we just expect things to go well....like we have a right, like we somehow deserve to have everything go perfectly for us. "Perfect" according to our human standards is not at all what God deems as perfect. His plan IS PERFECT. Don't ever forget that, Jennifer. EVER. My checkups all went well and, as usual for me, the first trimester was completely overtaken by me hugging the toilet pretty much non-stop. My poor girls and hubby had it really rough for a bit. Thank the Lord it did end, and we planned to have an ultrasound done to check up on baby #3 and find out the gender on November 21, 2012.....the day right before Thanksgiving. Little did we know that it would be the most memorable Thanksgiving of our lives. We headed to our appointment with such excitement and anticipation never expecting anything to be out of the ordinary. As the ultrasound tech moved the doppler over my barely 20 week bump, we discovered, much to my hubby's dismay, that we would be having another girl! The poor man loves his girls to death, but let's be honest. We women have a way of keeping life very interesting for our men. :) But, praise God, as long as she was healthy and happy, we were happy. Well, she was happy, but the healthy part threw us for a loop. The technician took longer than usual which started making me a bit suspicious, but I was too excited to really think about it. After a while she went and got the doctor to further explain and diagnose what they were seeing. He proceeded to explain to us that her heart was not normal and that she would not be born at the birthing center. At this point he only saw 2 maybe 3 chambers of her heart, there was fluid on her brain which is normal unless it's paired with a heart condition, and I wasn't as far along as we originally thought. We would need to do extensive monitoring to make sure she was growing well throughout the pregnancy, and watch the progress or digress of her heart. My heart shattered into a million pieces. I almost immediately started crying right there on that ultrasound bed. This couldn't be real!!! I'm only 25 and perfectly healthy! How is my baby NOT perfectly healthy??!! My dreams and hopes of finally having a risk-free, birthing home pregnancy/delivery suddenly was ripped out of my reach, thrown to the ground and stomped on....repeatedly. God in Heaven, how can this be???!! Surely YOU can fix this for us and save our baby. PLEASE don't let this be real! Maybe they got it wrong somehow. Maybe it's too early to really tell if they're right or not. Maybe......just maybe. We left that appointment beyond devastated. We were crushed; full blown, hard-to-recover crushed. One of my biggest fears was staring me right in the face with eyes wide open like a staring contest that I kept losing.

      Nothing that I have ever gone through, and trust, me I could write a book on my life, which is a very good possibility, nothing even comes close to what I felt at that moment. I don't know if I can even put words to it. Knowing that we were at that time facing multiple surgeries after she was born to "try" and save our baby's life and mend what the doctors were seeing, with death being the eventual outcome for her in her late teens was the hardest thing in my short 25 years of living that I've ever had to face. I feel like I got a slight glimpse of what God must have felt knowing He would be sacrificing His ONLY Son for us all. For me.....for our baby.
     All this took place the day before we're supposed to give thanks for our many, countless blessings. Wow, the irony of it all.... GIVE THANKS???!!! I wrestled with anger, rejection, and just complete and utter shock of what we were facing. And then to try to give thanks. We told our family but just kept it in our immediate family until we had our first EKG to find out specifics with our little girl. Everyone was equally as devastated and as shocked as we were, but our line of prayer warriors was started and the prayers began to find their way to the holy throne of God as we began our journey with our little angel.