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Dear Mrs. Wheeler

December 17, 2024 By 3
Dear Mrs. Wheeler,I am so deeply sorry for your loss. Like everyone else, I was heartbroken as I heard the news of the tragedy on Friday, December 14th. I can’t begin to comprehend what you and your family are going through. But I am praying for you. I am praying for all the families whose lives have been torn apart by this awful event.

As I carefully watched the reports and heard of small children whose lives were cut much too short, I was deeply moved. It shouldn’t happen. We all know that. And yet it did. And there are no words.

On Saturday I saw the list of all who lost their lives inside that school. The children were younger than I expected. Somehow, seeing their names and ages made it even more real. Yet it was already so desperately real for you.

On Sunday, I saw the list of names and birth dates again. My eyes scanned the page. Again, thoughts of these who were too young. Too young.

And then I landed on your son’s name, and his birth date: September 12, 2006. I remember that date vividly. My life was so full of expectations on that date. I was in the hospital for a large part of that day - and so were you. I was in Triage, waiting to see if they would keep me and induce my labor, or send me home for another couple of days. See, our daughter was due September 21st, but due to some complications, I was in a suburban Philadelphia hospital, wondering what our next steps would be, on September 12, 2006.

And somewhere, not too very far away, from what I have read, you were also in a hospital, welcoming Benjamin into the world. I remember the hustle and bustle of our September 12, 2006. Full of excitement, full of joy, full of exuberance that we would soon meet our girl. Our Princess.

I imagine your September 12, 2006, was even more joyful - your son had arrived! Those first few hours of life are really like no other moments in time. All is perfect. All is right with the world, and the road ahead seems smooth and wonderful!

Our daughter was born on September 13, 2006, one day after your little son. And that is why my eyes stopped on his name on that list so full of heart break.

I don’t even need to begin to tell you how awesome it is to have a 6-year old! They still need you, as a mom, but they are so much more independent. Life is a grand adventure, moment after moment, waiting to be lived and enjoyed, and there is something sacred about the way that they love life. The world is still so perfect at that age - the possibilities for what might happen are truly endless. As it should be.

We both know there are no words that I can offer you. That seems a tragedy to me. How I wish - how every person who has heard of this horror, wishes they could do something. It would make us feel better. But it won’t return what was taken from you. All that we can do is offer our time and our hearts; our prayers and our promises to not forget this.

We promise to hug our children more tightly. We promise to pause and reflect on life as a 5-, 6-, or 7-year old. How fun and carefree those days were! How our biggest concern was whether we’d have enough time to play with friends, or which toy to use first. We promise that music, love, and laughter will continue. We promise to just be - to be with our kids, to be with our family and friends. To be with you. We are here. We mourn with you.

I can’t offer you much that will soothe your spirits. But I will pray. I will not forget you when time has passed. While my heart breaks for friends and family of all involved, your family has a special place in my heart as I remember - so well - the day that your precious son was born.

Matthew 11:28 - Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.

Praying that at this tragic time in your life, you can find rest and peace in Jesus.

Dear Mrs. Wheeler, I am so deeply sorry for your loss.

Love and Prayers to you and yours,
Rebekah Hallberg

Source
Filed Under: dealing with feelings, parenting

The Smile of The Knowing

November 23, 2024 By 0
Sometimes things hit me at random times - today’s post came out of thoughts I was having today, Thanksgiving, about something that happened about 3.5 months ago.

First, though, this is late and most of you will probably not read it until tomorrow. I hope you’ve had a wonderful Thanksgiving with family and friends!

On to the smile of the knowing….

In early August I took our youngest two kids for hair cuts. Because of Picasso’s issues, I never am too far away when he’s getting his hair trimmed. He’s doing a lot better, but still…I stay near enough. The lady cutting his hair was talking to him and to me, asking about school, activities, etc. He mentioned something he’d been working on in therapy. Almost immediately, she nodded her head, smiled, and gave a kind look that I am coming to know a little better.

The smile of the knowing.

As we talked a little more, she began to talk of her own son, of his schooling, and of respite opportunities that arise. Respite? Mm-hmmm. It turns out her son has a form of autism as well. And that explained it - that explained the smile of the knowing.

As we travel this journey and make small steps out into life, and to places where we don’t often venture, I’m finding it more and more. When people used to glance our way, I used to bristle and prepare to go to battle with them. That doesn’t happen so much anymore, because I’m realizing the glances aren’t usually so negative anymore. Or maybe it’s that I’m not as insecure about our life, our guy, our struggles. Or both. In fact, more frequently, when people glance our way, it truly seems to be with the smile of the knowing.

It’s like we can find those similar to us in a group. Those who stop and smile seem to be those who know - those who know that I’m not dealing with a child with behavior issues, but rather with a child who feels, thinks and sometimes acts differently. They seem to understand that he walks to the beat of a different drummer, and they don’t seem to be bashing me, with their looks, for being a bad parent. There seems to be some sort of awareness, by those who know the journey, and we seem to find each other out there - wherever “there” is. The smiles are softer, the looks are of genuine care and sincerity, but they are the knowing - those who know that a quick trip to the drug store can leave you feeling like you’ve done battle. Or that a regular trip to church on Sunday, like every other Sunday, can leave you wondering why you push for the family to go to church. The knowing.

I’m thankful for them - for those who take a minute to give a silent “pat on the back” from across the room. They are the cheering section that God plants at the store when I feel like I’m at the end of my rope. They are the champions for my guy who seem to sense that he needs more time and so they are extra patient as he launches into a story, or as he attempts to figure out the change needed when he pays with his own money.

The smile of the knowing. How very comforting to know that others understand and can be supportive of our ventures, adventures, and even our misadventures.

Today I am thankful for those who know. For those who try to know and understand. It encourages me to try even harder to be the same for others who need the silent champions, the appreciative cheering squad, the extra patience and understanding.

If you see us out there, whether it’s our family, or others like us, let me tell you - the smile of the knowing goes such a long way to encourage us!

Filed Under: autism spectrum diagnosis, dealing with feelings, everyday success, parenting

To My Girl

September 13, 2024 By 8
My Dear Girl,
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
I am so glad you’re a part of our family. God has blessed our family by giving you to us and we are so grateful for who you are in our family.

I always think that children are given to parents so that parents can help raise them to be who they are supposed to be. However, you’ve been such a blessing in my life. And while I know I’m doing some of the work of raising you, you have - in your 6 short years - already been such a blessing in my life.

I fell in love with all of you from the moment I knew you were going to be a part of our lives. You’ve added a softness to our family that we didn’t know we were lacking. You cause us to slow down by the tea parties you plan. You reel us in with your cute smile, your sensitivity, your big dark eyes.

You love us unconditionally and whole-heartedly. You look up to your oldest brother and that helps him feel really good! You’re not too close in age, but you find a way to nurture the relationship that you two have, and I love that!

You’re a rock in our family. I wish we didn’t have to thrust you into some of the reality that is our life, but honestly, God has specially designed you to be in our family and to be a rock for your brother. You have so many ways that you can help him - and that you do help him - and I am so proud of you. Even though he’s your big brother, he looks up to you in so many ways. I’m always proud of you for helping him, for holding his hand when he needs it, for helping him focus on what he needs to do, for speaking up for him when he can’t speak up for himself. You two have a special bond that many other siblings will not have. Always keep your heart close to his - he will always need your strength and security.

I’m glad when we can give you times to just be a kid. Your smile and your laugh are infectious. You bring joy to everyone who knows you. You are quick to sympathize with someone who is hurting or sick, you offer the best of who you are to help others, and that is a wonderful trait.

Happy birthday to the girl who makes all things pink even more awesome!
Happy birthday to the girl who was born to love animals - especially dogs.
Happy birthday to the girl who knows that nothing is too small to pray about.
Happy birthday to the girl who I never knew I needed, and with whom I never want to be without.
We love you!
Filed Under: birthday, family focused, parenting

The Best Day Ever

August 20, 2024 By 2
Picasso has dubbed today “The Best Day Ever” and I’m inclined to agree.
Here’s a (very) brief journey through our best day!
First up - we dropped off our oldest son for a week at Youth Camp. He’s so excited!
Our daughter’s little friends were at church when we dropped off our son. Love them!
The view from the top of the parking garage when I took Picasso for his annual check-up with the developmental pediatrician.
Almost exactly a year ago, Picasso officially got his diagnosis of Asperger Syndrome.
That was a very tough appointment for us - not because of the Asperger diagnosis - we were expecting that, but just due to the length of the appointment and all of the information discussed. I posted this picture -
because an appointment that lasted so long (over two hours) certainly deserved some ice cream.
This picture, while so sweet, holds the reminder of how I felt on the day of his official diagnosis.
Bittersweet.
Today we went back for his annual check-up with the developmental pediatrician.
Our appointment was with the same lady. She kept smiling, laughing, and commenting on how much progress he’s making. His eye contact was stellar - every time he spoke to someone, he turned toward them, looked at them, and spoke. He engaged in conversation, interacted with people, and was able to formulate an answer when a question was asked of him. Last year, it took up to 10 minutes sometimes.
So after today’s appointment we got ice cream again - an annual tradition now!
I’d say all this definitely adds up to make today
THE BEST DAY EVER!
Filed Under: autism spectrum diagnosis, daily blessings, parenting

And then….

July 12, 2024 By 12
Insert classic opening line here:
“It was all going so well…and then it fell apart.”

This morning I was helping the kids finish getting ready for an outing with my parents. Last night we had gathered most of what they needed for today. This morning it was just the final few things.
Our son wears sunglasses outside quite often because of his sensitivity to the sun. Because he’s almost always in sunglasses when he goes outside, nothing would do but for our daughter to have some as well. Like brother, like sister….
And then it happened. We couldn’t find her sunglasses. We looked inside - living room, dining room, secret hiding places. We looked outside - everywhere in the van - and couldn’t find them. I sent her upstairs to see if she could find her old pair which she usually keeps on her bookshelf. Why does she keep them there? Well, because it’s really so much cooler to wear sunglasses to read. You didn’t know that? You’re welcome! Seriously, though, I think she sets them there because she plays dress-up often and that saves her the hassle of putting them away.
So she’s off searching in her room and I came across a pair of Picasso’s sunglasses in the van. {You should know - I designated ONE box for everyone’s sunglasses. Sunglasses go into the box and never go missing. Genius, right? Organized, safe, always in the same place. Not a single child keeps their sunglasses in that box, despite my best efforts to remind them. Sigh.}
Since we found an extra pair of Picasso’s glasses, I told him that if his sister couldn’t find her sunglasses, then maybe she could wear his. That was a nice thought on my part (yes, I’m patting myself on the back) and he ran to tell her that he’d share with her.
Meanwhile, she found her sunglasses upstairs. All was well.
Until…
She called to me from the top of the stairs to say that he’d kicked her because she wouldn’t wear his sunglasses. She found her own & didn’t need his.
And that started the I-don’t-know-how-long tantrum/meltdown/being out of sorts.
I think he wanted to be useful. And helpful. And I think he misunderstood my suggestion of sharing his sunglasses only if she couldn’t find her own.
They set off on their outing with my parents. I really wasn’t sure how it would go, but had faith in him and confidence in my parents’ ability to interact with him and get him out of his slump.
Shortly before noon I missed a call from my parents. When I saw it, I thought, “Uh-oh.” I listened to the message and called them back. It turned out that he had eventually settled down and was doing well. My mom asked him if he wanted her to call me, to say that all was well. He said yes, so she called me.
He and I have a special attachment - much like I imagine most special needs moms have with their kids. We know - we just innately KNOW when something’s not right. We may not know what it is, or what caused it, but one look at our kiddo and we just know. I think he’s beginning to understand our connection even more, and looks for ways to express that to me. Sometimes, when things go wrong & he is feeling better, he’ll come over and just stand there and smile. Other times, he’ll come over and snuggle or smile right in my face. It’s a great step for his emotional processing!
Source
Filed Under: anxiety and autism, autism spectrum diagnosis, family focused, parenting

Justice and Mercy

June 18, 2024 By 2
A few years ago, our older son was bullied while attending a local school. It was immediately dealt with at the school, before I even heard about it, and for that, I was very grateful. The offending child apologized to our son and to me, and I tried to reply graciously, knowing I may someday be the mother of the offending child, and thinking about how I’d like to be treated in that situation.

Our son ended up becoming friends with the boy who had bullied him (D), and they get along well now. The bullying incident came up in conversation recently, and we had a great opportunity to talk with all of the kids about appropriate ways to respond - who to talk to if you have a problem, how to handle it, not to take matters into our own hands, etc. It was really a good learning opportunity.

The kids are going to an all-day Vacation Bible School (VBS) this week, and the child who had bullied our son attends the same camp. It’s quite nice to see them getting along and to realize that a child’s capacity to forgive and forget is often greater than ours, as adults. Also, you just never know what situation may propel people into a friendship, as odd as this seems when talking about bullying.

Our older son was talking about the pool games they were playing today, and how he & (D) were surfing. When someone fell off, all the guys would laugh about it together. Picasso asked, “So the other kid (D) fell off sometimes, too?” Yes. And Mozart continued with, “Usually when I fell off, (D) fell off pretty quickly after that.”

Picasso: “Well, that’s what he gets for picking on you a few years ago!”

Wow.

Mixed feelings on my part, and here they are, in no particular order:

1. Ha! (Almost chuckled out loud, but didn’t.)
2. Wow - don’t cross Picasso.
3. Social skills training is paying off - he realizes that the bullying incident was wrong, and that it should not have happened. Also, he realizes there’s a consequence for actions.
4. He’s sticking up for his brother!
5. That’s right, that’s what the kid deserves. (Ok, I’m not proud that this was a thought, but in all honesty, yes, it crossed my mind.)
6. Wow - don’t cross Picasso! (Yes, I thought it more than once.)

Source

This is a great stepping stone in Picasso’s development. I have seen him attempting (in very small ways) to protect his brother & sister, and I love the devotion he has to them. I have seen a fierce will in protecting his sister, but not so much with his brother - maybe because he’s older. Today, though, I saw it. And I was so proud of him for thinking about other people and making sure that everyone is well cared for.

I also realized that while we need to teach about taking care of each other, and that there are consequences for wrong-doing, we also need to talk about grace and mercy, and that sometimes, they are more important than justice.

Source
Filed Under: parenting, special needs therapy

Small Victories

April 29, 2024 By 12
One of the blessings that comes from understanding Picasso’s issues is that we’ve learned to become grateful for the seemingly small milestones. The victory is not in the destination, but in understanding how to get there. Because really, the possibilities for where to go - the destination - are limitless, but you can’t get anywhere if you don’t understand the steps required to get there.

For our guy, the process of understanding the steps to accomplish something is very tough. He struggles with seeing the big picture and then breaking it down into the necessary steps

To give you an example of what this means, I’ll use the illustration of when you tell a child to get ready for bed. You probably say something like, “Ok, it’s time to get ready for bed,” and your child will (happily or otherwise) get pajamas on, brush teeth, go to the bathroom, and climb into bed. You may have more things in your bedtime routine, but the general idea is that the child will go and carry out the necessary steps to “get ready for bed”.

Our guy doesn’t function like that. He hears “Time bed” and will head upstairs. That’s often where it ends. If we’re lucky, he’ll go to the bathroom or brush his teeth, without us telling him. But that’s very infrequent. This doesn’t mean he’s totally clueless on the daily tasks, but rather that we have to approach SO much of what we do (and how we make our routines) in a different way.

Our routines are very structured and set in stone - the ones that truly matter. These routines are always done in the same way, in the same order, even so much as using the same tone of voice. There are frequent reminders as we approach the time for a required task. You can imagine, this takes a lot of planning and preparation on our part to give the 1-hour, 30-minute, 15-minute, 10-minute, 7-minute, 5-minute and 2-minute countdowns. And these countdowns happen for many things - school, therapy, clean up time, bedtime, among others.

In an attempt to make our own lives a little easier, we’ll often lay out the clothes for church on Saturday night. We don’t always do this - a lot of it depends on whether or not I have to leave early to get to practice with the worship team. If I do have to leave early, then the clothes are all downstairs for the 2 younger kids, (our older son does great getting his own clothes) and everything is ready for them all to eat breakfast, get dressed, and head to church. If I don’t have to leave early, I don’t worry as much about having the clothes out and ready as I’m here to help with all that on Sunday morning. Saturday nights are the only nights we lay out clothes for the next day. Sometimes he’ll go to bed in the clothes he wants to wear the next day, but we don’t lay out clothes for any other day.

Last night Picasso came downstairs. He was wearing the clothes he’d had on (well, probably the second or third outfit of the day), plus a hat, a bag, something in his hand, and a pair of pants in the other. I figured that the pants were part of whatever he was playing, so I didn’t pay much attention. I was sitting on the couch looking through some things when he plopped the pants down on the footstool.

I looked up, intrigued. They were the nice pants that he had worn for Easter.

“Here’s my pants for tomorrow.”

Silence. Willing the words to come into my head. We hadn’t discussed that tomorrow was church day. We *had* talked about how it was Saturday, several times. Daddy stays home from work. We get to do some fun things. But no preparation for Sunday because I knew I’d be home in the morning.

Yet here it was, Saturday evening, and he had pants for church.

“Thanks, Pal, great job!” But really - WOW! He’s internalized a non-structured activity. He thought and planned ahead. All on his own. The moment was noted forever, in my mind and heart.

But there was more.

“Should I wear a short-sleeved white shirt (while motioning to the spot where the sleeves hit on his arm) or the long sleeved nice blue shirt?”

Utter. Disbelief.

Usually I have to say no to the first few shirts he picks because he often picks shirts for opposite seasons (due to his sensory issues), or he’ll choose a shirt that he cut a hole in, or he picks a shirt that is older that doesn’t look quite as nice. So the fact that he was coming with some ideas of decent shirts was fantastic!

“Um, either of those shirts would be just fine - or any (he begins to walk away; pretty sure I should stop talking, but I can’t because I’m in awe) nice-looking shirt…with a collar. Any nice-looking shirt.” He glances at me as he turns to head up the stairs. He replies - “K!”

I didn’t even know how to answer. I was so proud of this HUGE accomplishment that I probably would have said yes to a shirt with a hole (with a fleece on top) or any other shirt he brought down.

I can almost hear you - “You’d let your kid go to *church* in a shirt with a hole? Or a shirt for the opposite weather?” Yes. In fact, he went to church in his pajamas one time - his oldest sweats. See that’s the great thing about our church - no judgment about what you wear to church. They understand - or are beginning to understand - our guy’s needs. This helps a lot with a kid who has sensory issues. We don’t have to fight to get him to dress “appropriately”. Yes, I’d love if he would look great each time he went to church. But the reality is that it’s hard to get him INTO clothes some days, when the sweats and pajamas are what feel best. So the fact that he planned today’s outfit, completely on his own - yup, he could have worn anything he wanted to wear. (I’m really glad he wanted to wear something nice!)

And so he picked the long-sleeved blue shirt. And he dressed himself this morning, and did not tuck in his dress shirt. And he did complain about how the pants felt around his waist, so I suggested we loosen the tabs inside to make them feel better. Maybe someday he won’t complain about the tabs, but will ask for help instead. But when something like the feel of the tabs used to cause a violent meltdown, I’ll take the complaint ANY day, because he’s using words.

We’re not “there” yet - but really, who knows where “There” is? What matters is that HE figured out part of the journey, completely on his own. And when you can succeed ON the journey, you’ll get “there”! No doubt about it!

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Filed Under: autism spectrum diagnosis, goals, parenting, sensory issues

Vegetables - The Good, Bad & Ugly

March 13, 2025 By 2
Vegetables can be such a touchy subject - literally! I have (at least) one child with sensory issues as it relates to food, and hopefully I’m learning from my mistakes in making them eat all their food.
I’ve read a lot of reports of how actually making someone clear their plate at each meal can lead to obesity. On the other hand, I know we all hate to waste food. Additionally, now that I realize that he has food sensitivities, the other 2 might, to some extent, as well.
I’ve given up forcing vegetables on them. Don’t worry - they still eat them. Plenty of them!
They’re old enough that they can “eat what’s prepared”, however, I don’t force the vegetable issue, except to make sure they have some vegetable(s) with their meals. In other words, if I’m planning to make peas with a meal, I know I have one who won’t eat peas. I’ll make corn, too. Or if there are carrots, another won’t eat those, so I’ll cut cucumbers. There have been a few meals where I’ve made up to 3 vegetables, in addition to the salad. I would much rather present a table with various healthy options, than to skip out on vegetables.
Additionally, to aid in their vegetable eating, I will buy ANY vegetable they ask for. The only thing I ask in return is that they try 2 bites. Why 2? Why not just 1? Because MY kids will take a first bite of something new and say, “Mmm, this is good!” Upon hearing that, I think I’ve struck gold on a vegetable-of-the-week, only to serve it up again and have them say, “Ewww!” Frustrating. So - two bites. The first one to get the cursory, “Mmm, this is good,” out of the way; the second to get an accurate description of whether or not they like the veggie. (See, I’m learning things in my old age parenting journey!)
Taking them shopping with me has led to a couple AMAZING finds:
1. They eat Brussels sprouts - well, at least 2 of them. I saute’ them in olive oil & garlic, chop them in small pieces, and they eat them. I was amazed. (I don’t even eat them!) So I figured if my kids were brave enough to try them, I could, too. That’s another thing - I don’t convey my own personal feelings on a particular vegetable to the kids. They had no idea that I didn’t like Brussels sprouts. So I decided to try them, since I was trying to get the kids to try them. Guess what? I like them. Seriously. It’s so shocking - they’re SO good!
2. They eat asparagus. All 3 kids. Their favorite is when it’s sauteed in olive oil & garlic, then added to pasta - along with meatballs, tomatoes & sometimes even some spinach. Such a delicious meal and they eat the asparagus!
3. They eat spinach - they prefer raw spinach, but they’ll also eat it if I cook it up. They don’t care too much for frozen spinach although sometimes I can get away with it in the pasta meal mentioned above, or in a lasagna. They will eat huge salads (well, huge when you consider their age) with fresh spinach as the base & all sorts of added veggies.
4. They think they’ll like squash - all varieties - but they never do, no matter how I prepare it. That’s ok! Tim & I enjoy butternut squash soup in the fall, and sometimes they’ll eat a bit of that (meaning, about 1/8 cup, if that).
Their favorite, still, is a large plate of fresh veggies, with some dip. Along with the main course and a salad, they will eat assorted veggies when set out for them - carrots, cucumbers, tomatoes, peppers, snow peas. A lot of times I’ll cut up a plate of veggies or arrange a tray of fruit and set it on the bottom shelf in the fridge. We have no rules about fruits & veggies in this house - I say yes, even 5 minutes before a meal. If they’re wanting something healthy, I will say yes. (Now please understand, they don’t sit there and eat all day long - they just come asking for a quick bite of something, so I say yes.)
You can see - it’s taken a lot of figuring to get this “sort of right” in our house. I love that they eat healthy & I love that we don’t have to have the veggie fight!
Filed Under: parenting, sensory issues, writing

On Miscarriage, Part 2

February 25, 2025 By 1
Yesterday I told Part 1 of our story on miscarriage. If you did not read that, please take a look at it first, and then come back to finish today’s post.Years passed before I realized that I felt “okay” about having lost that baby. Not that I was glad about having gone through a miscarriage, and I was never really overly sad about the situation, but I realized God was using that story in my life to help others, and I was okay with that.In 2009, through a series of events that I didn’t even understand at that point, I was reunited with an old friend who used to go to our church. We’d always been pretty close with her family, but she’d sort of “fallen off the grid” and I didn’t hear much about her - although I realize I didn’t ask a lot about her either; seems it was mostly around holiday times when I’d hear about her.One day she showed up at church. It took a bit of time before we realized why she had come back to church. She was expecting a baby, she was a single mom (although the baby’s dad is very involved) and was wanting to get things right in her life. She came back to church seeking out some support that she knew she would find through people at church.Because she & I knew each other over the years, and because she felt comfortable talking with me, we got close as her pregnancy went along. Since I was homeschooling, it was easy to help her out with transportation to/from doctor appointments, to answer pregnancy questions, and to just be a friend to her.

She was due in February of 2010, toward the end of the month, I believe. Valentine’s day came and I remember her talking about how much she’d love a Valentine’s day baby - that her soon-to-be-born son would always be her special valentine. Well, her sweet boy wasn’t born on Valentine’s day, but I can tell you that he is her valentine for sure - not just on February 14th, but every single day of the year. She is in so much love with him, as she should be!

One morning, in the EARLY morning hours, I got a call from a friend of my friend, telling me that they were at the hospital and this baby was coming quickly! In my half-asleep state, I called her friend back just to check that she really *had* called me. The friend said, “Yes, I called you. Do you hear her screaming in the background?” I still chuckle at that! :)

I got up & dressed and got ready to head to the hospital to welcome sweet little EJP into the world. Somewhere along the drive it occurred to me that the date was February 19th. The date that was my “expected due date” when I had first looked to find what might be my due date.

February 19th. A day that had been attached to some sadness in my own life.
God brought Amy back to church and into my life. We talked through so many issues of pregnancy, childbirth, parenting, and so many other things. I have loved her little guy since way before he was born. And while I never got to have my child on February 19th, 2002, God gave me a special gift gift 8 years later, on February 19th, 2010.
He has just turned 2 years old and is absolutely adorable! I had originally intended to post this 2-part series on Feb 18th & 19th, but as the dates grew closer, I didn’t want to detract from the celebration of his life because his birthday is for celebrating him!
Happy birthday, EJP! I love you bunches! Your life is a precious gift to all who know you. Remember that your mommy loves you very much, and she is awesome! And like I tell my own kids, “Jesus loves you more than your mommy ever could!”
Baby E with the presents my kiddos couldn’t wait to buy him!
E and his beautiful mom, my friend, Amy
Me snuggling with my buddy
Almost 2!
Filed Under: daily blessings, parenting

On Miscarriage

February 24, 2025 By 3
magnolia2Sometimes we wonder why things happen - hard things, that we didn’t wish for and would rather not have happen to us. We wonder why God allows pain in our lives and what good might ever come of it. We all have stories like that, but I wanted to share a particular one with you.I’ve shared this story with some before, but not with the addition that will probably be Part 2 of this post. It’s a beautiful story with Part 1 here, recounting the tough stuff. In Part 2, you’ll read about the beauty that only God can orchestrate to remind me how much He loves me, and how wonderful life is.

{If you know me personally, please do not discuss this post or others related to it, with our kids.
I want to share this with you, adult to adult. Thank you.}In April, 2001, our oldest son turned one. He was such a delight at that age (still is!) and I was in love with “mommy-hood”!
In May of 2001, we found out we were expecting Baby #2. We were excited! It was not the ideal time to have a new baby, but then if you wait until “the time is right” you may never expand your family. We looked ahead to having 2 kids relatively close in age, and I thought that would be a wonderful thing! I read the baby books, trying to find my expected due date. February - and to be more specific, February 19th. These things are never exact (and as it turns out, my babies have never come within even a week of their projected due date…silly little kids!), but I liked the idea of having a “target date” in mind.
In late June of 2001, we lost Baby #2. It was confirmed via ultrasound at the very end of June or early July. I had just gotten to 6weeks, so I was not pregnant for long. I’d only known that I was pregnant for a couple weeks. Even so, there were many nights when going to sleep was tough - when being in the stillness, with my own thoughts, was just too much, and the tears came.

Ten years have passed since all this - almost eleven now. I have no idea who that child would have been in our family: Son #2? Daughter #1? I’ll never know, this side of Heaven. I wanted to know, at first. Now, all these years later, it’s ok that I don’t know.

There are times, when all is quiet, and a million thoughts are not swimming through my mind, when I’ll still wonder what our family might have been like, if we’d been blessed with that child’s life outside the womb. And in those times, there is always peace. I think it’s God’s way of letting me know that truly, His plans were the best.

Since that miscarriage, I’ve met many other moms who have suffered one or more miscarriages. Compared to some, my loss was quite simple - moderately painless physically, taking place very early in my pregnancy. No one discounts the mental and emotional toll this took, but I know others have had much more trying situations. I’ve been able to share with other moms going through this, that I can relate - that I’ve been through the same thing, even though circumstances are different. Often, it helps to know that someone else understands. I have tried my best to be supportive of others in this situation - to pray for, encourage, check on, love them. I’ve worked to listen, to let them cry, to hold a hand.

Through those situations, I’ve thanked God for allowing me to use my experience to help someone else. Miscarriages are not as taboo as they used to be, but it’s still not something that people openly discuss, so finding a listening ear can be tough.

Each year, on February 19th, I take a moment - just a moment - to remember that we had a baby who would have joined our family around that time. It’s always with a twinge of sadness that I remember we lost one, but there is always peace.

For many years, my story ended there. And honestly, it’s a good story, as it sits right here. There are some more details that are not here, because they are more personal - quiet chats with Tim, a very kind doctor, a special gift that occurred, despite knowing we’d lost our baby. But the story, as it is here, is a wonderful story about how God gave me opportunities to help others who have struggled through miscarriage as well. I’m grateful for those opportunities and for others who reached out to help me as well.

But the story doesn’t end there. This story, right here, makes me happy.

The rest of the story? A matchless gift! Come back to read the next segment tomorrow.

Filed Under: dealing with feelings, family focused, parenting
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