We're all a little broken, but that's how the light gets in

The title of this blog post comes from a piece of jewelry I saw on pinterest after Ruby died, and that's so so so true! It's in the moments of absolute brokenness that the light reaches where it never would have otherwise.  Having a baby die before I ever got to meet her has broken me more painfully than anything else in all my life.  Don't get me wrong, I've been broken many times, sometimes in the same ways over and over again, but NOTHING like this brokenness.  The blessing in this brokenness is the Light that shines into those broken pieces in ways I never would have known otherwise.   I wouldn't ask for this (I know that I keep saying that) but I'm still grateful for the perspective I have because of it.  I see God so differently now, and feel as though I hear Him so differently now, feel as though I can relate to Him so differently now because of this. 

I don't think I could ever fully comprehend or accept God as The Father because my own father, and perspectives on what fatherhood looks like have been so tainted in this life.  It wasn't until recently I feel like it finally REALLY clicked, but more because I can see His love for me in the way that I love my children.  I don't see His love as a reflection of the way I was loved in the parent/ child relationship, but it makes so much more sense to me, as the parent loving her children.  When Mya asks me the same question over and over and over again needing reassurance that the plans haven't changed, I've started to see myself and how I do that to God.  I tell Mya over and over again "honey, the plans are still the same as they were, if they change, I promise I'll let you know." The plans don't have to be significant, sometimes she just needs the reminder that things are consistent. That's me! I do that to God all the time! Then there's Ava.  One night recently at dinner she asked for a cup of water while we were still getting dinner on plates and to the table.  It took a few minutes but eventually Dustin brought her the water she'd asked for.  Suddenly she was upset and started to cry, because she actually wanted milk.  How often do we do that to God? "God, if you're listening I'd reallllly like some water.  Please God, just a little bit of water." Then God sends the water...and like a child, we say "God...is this water?! I wanted milk..." God's probably saying "You may want milk, but you asked for water, and that's exactly what I gave you." My biggest fear as a mother is that my kids will grow up, and doubt my love for them. That I'll fall short, no matter how hard I've tried, one too many times and they'll think "I wonder if my mom really loves me?" or "I wish mom really loved me like I needed her to." I've found myself wondering that about God too.  I wonder if He ever thinks "I hope someday I'll be able to show them enough, how magnificent my love is for them, they'll never again wonder if I truly love them" I know God doesn't fall short, and that He keeps showing us time and time again how deep and how wide and how great His love is for us but will we get to the point where we stop doubting it, and just hold on?

I can't say that I'm all gratefulness and smiles, or revelations and joy because I'm not, but I am still able to see the growth in the moments that hurt the most.  One thing I've been struggling with a lot lately is that people treat me so differently now.  I know that I AM DIFFERENT, but the way people make me feel at times, makes it hard to feel like you can do anything other than cocoon yourself. Some of the people who SHOULD care or show even just the smallest ounce of compassion, don't even talk to me.  Not a "How are you?" not a "how are Mya and Ava" not "is your hair on fire?!"...nothing.  I guess it's true what they say that the biggest disappointments come because of the gap between expectation and reality.  I guess I just thought maybe it would be different because I'd do differently, if the shoe were on the other foot.  I know talking about this is hard.  I have friends who have had to say goodbye to their babies after I have, and I don't really know what to say to them.  I'm going through it right now, and I don't even know what to say, because each of our hurts and experiences are so different, but I avoiding me all together is hurtful.  You don't have to talk about my heartache, just a "hi, hope you have a good day today" is better than nothing at all, but hard times prove true friends (or family) and this entire season of life has been one HUGE and PAINFUL lesson in that. 

There have been times lately that I have had some regret in sharing about this, but when I decided that I would be as transparent about this as possible it was because I hope that someday my hurt and honesty could be comfort to someone else going through it.  I realize my baby is not your baby.  I realize your journey to conception (whether surprise or years of planning) is unique to you, but when the dust settles we're still parents to babies who are gone.  I realize you may not feel completely how I feel or see things completely as I see, but my hope is that somehow, this hurt won't be wasted.

The reason I have had regrets about being open and vulnerable is that it leaves you vulnerable.  People say all sorts of things to you that cut like a knife.  I realize that most of what is said is well intended and people are trying to be as comforting as they can (after all I DID say that I don't want to be completely ignored) but really there are things that just plain hurt.  What's hard about that is its ok for people to say whatever they say but it's not usually ok for you to be honest about it not being helpful or dare I say, hurtful.  If you speak up in the least, oh say a facebook post or something because that seems like the safest and most non-confrontational approach, you're hormonal, grieving, and sensitive.  Sure, some of that may be true, but if you realize the reasons why what is said is hurtful, you might just be a little more careful.  I have heard MANY MANY MANY times now how "so-and-so lost their baby at this many weeks...that has to be so hard." That hurts for several reasons.  In a way, you're saying that so and so had more days with their baby before their death, so they loved and dreamed about their baby more than I did.  Maybe so...maybe that other mom loved their baby for 4 whole more days than I loved mine, but in the grand scheme of things does that make my loss less significant? If someone's grandma died at 70 years old would you tell them about "so-and-so" who's grandma died at 71 years old, and how that had to be so hard, because well... that grandma lived longer so she was loved more...I certainly hope not.  Would you tell someone who's grandma died in their sleep about "so-and-so" who's grandma died of a heart attack, and how that had to be so much worse? Again, I certainly hope not.  Sure a heart attack is a tragic way to die, so is a car accident, or cancer, or, or, or, or...but you know what, the results are the same...grief because someone you love has died.  Another thing that has been mentioned by even the people closest to me, is about people who have had a still born child.  (Please don't take what I am saying as trying to minimize what you have been through, or that I'm trying to put myself in your shoes because I have not been there, I DON'T completely know what that was like for you) I have heard how it must have been so much harder to see their baby, so much harder to hold their baby, but what you don't know is that I wanted to see my baby even though she wasn't alive anymore.  What you don't know is that I wanted to hold my baby, even though she was only the size of a blueberry. I wanted to hold her in my hand knowing that was the only time on this earth I would ever get the chance to hold my baby.  What you don't know is that for an entire week I stared into a toilet full of blood wondering if the pieces of tissue inside were my baby's little body.  What you don't know is that I sat on the floor in the bathroom and stared one last time at the clot I think was my baby, debating on whether or not I should stick my hand inside just to look and see, and maybe get the chance to hold her once.  What you don't know is that I had nightmares for weeks about sitting in a bathtub full of blood and clots frantically examining each and every one looking for my baby.  What you don't realize is that I labored and delivered a child too, the same way I did the two you can see every day, except I didn't get an epidural, I didn't get an ice pack for my efforts, I didn't get a bracelet with their name and mine, I flushed her.  I don't get a headstone that has my child's name on it, or a little urn where people know a little body is inside who's life was over much too soon.  People hardly acknowledge my baby as a baby at all.  Embryo...that's what they call her.  The little embryo that vanished, that I just can't get over.  Those parents who's children were stillborn have an experience entirely different than mine, and I don't want to compare our stories...so please stop comparing them for me.  In the end what we have is grief, and babies in heaven, how that happened doesn't make any one baby more or less loved or wanted than the rest. 

Being able to grieve and think and feel and process things the way I need to, rather than being expected a certain path or timeline is what I need.  I don't need you to tell me how it should feel or how long it should take or why I should be grateful for this, because it could have been something else.  Trust me, I already know that.  What I need is just a little grace, a little compassion, and maybe just a little more kindness along the way.  This club is not one I wanted to be a part of, so please forgive me if I'm not this clubs biggest fan and I'm still learning the rules.  If we're being honest here, I've reached that angry stage of grief and all I know how to do is process it as it comes, acknowledge why I'm angry, and pray I can get passed it.  Please forgive me when I feel angry when I hear a pregnant woman complaining about morning sickness, or aches and pains that come along with pregnancy, it's just that I'd love to be in their shoes, and it's hard to see that they don't understand just how blessed they are.  Please forgive me when I get angry because people are so particular about such trivial things as their child's gender, it's just that it seems as though they take for granted that they get to have a baby at all.  I'd love to have the glass of water you wanted, when you decided that you'd rather have milk...

Letting go of the pen

Letting go of Ruby has been the hardest, and most confusing thing that has happened in my life thus far. It has shaken me to my core and literally brought me to my knees, but I have learned that that is exactly where I needed to be.  I wouldn't have chosen this (and I can't say for sure if my mind will ever change about that) but my eyes have been opened in ways they never would have, had I not had to say goodbye to a baby I never had the chance to say hello to.  Even in my most broken moments of grief, when I my thoughts and prayers couldn't even be uttered in anything more than tears and chaos, I have stood firm, knowing this hurt won't be wasted.  I don't know how God will use this, but if is the story He has chosen for me, I will do my best to make Him proud.


My life hasn't always been wonderful, I have had my heart broken more times than I can even count, but that has been what has shaped me to be who I am, and has taught me to be resilient in this journey. It has made me cautious (aka major trust issues) but when I care about something or someone, I care with everything I have to offer.  I have found that even when life has been rough (especially growing up) I still see myself as a pretty joyful person.  I can still somehow find joy in the circumstances before me, and I know that comes directly from the Lord.  I haven't always been happy, but I have had the joy that isn't dependent on my circumstances.  I think this is why I haven't asked God why I have to wait until heaven to hold my baby. I haven't asked Him why He gave her to us, and took her right back because honestly, why doesn't change a thing.  Instead, I have found myself asking over and over again, "How? How do you want me to use this? How to you want me to take this and use it for Your glory?" And this is where I've gotten confusion and clarity all at the same time. (Hello internal chaos)

Growing up I was always considered a bossy kid (and sensitive and too skinny and all sorts of other "character building" things that leave you feeling inadequate and insecure) but it wasn't until I became a parent that I realized how big of a control freak I am.  Admitting that is hard for me because I like to think that I am level headed and rational but when it comes to not having control over certain situations its really hard for me.  Not knowing what to expect is the worst for me.  I just realized maybe a year or so ago that when Dustin plans dates that I have no idea about, it makes me so anxious that I feel sick to my stomach and kind of ruins the date.  I thought "cute, I still have butterflies after 15 years" ummmm no, thats anxiety honey.  Once I finally realized its not knowing what to expect that makes me feel sick (cause the butterflies don't happen on every date, just the ones he plans and I have no clue whats going on) I have had a better handle on things, and he has been great about respecting my anxiousness by either surprising me so much I have no idea there was even going to be something going on, or telling me just enough to get rid of the anxiousness.  Anyway, throw in having children and the need to control everything for me, has gone into over drive.  Mom's way is the only way, which is terrible way to have a family.  God didn't create children with just one parent,  it takes both a mom, and a dad to make a child and it takes both a mom and a dad to raise them.  I realize there are one parent families, and I am in no way looking down my nose at those families (I grew up in one) but His design was for both parents to contribute to the well-being of the child.  I'm not sure at which point I have learned to let Dustin parent his way (I don't always keep quiet) but I have had to learn that just because he does things differently than I do with the kids, doesn't mean he's doing it wrong.  They have two parents for a reason, why should MY way be the right way? I think what I know is best more often than not, but sometimes I'm wrong.  Sometimes I need to let him do things his way (even if it's completely different than how I would do it) because they're his kids too, and the way he parents them will shape them just the same way I do.  He's an amazing daddy, so why do I need to keep thinking he needs to be an amazing mommy too? Let him be their dad, the way he is going to be their dad, and leave the mothering to me.  (Did anyone else notice that mothering and smothering rhyme?)

Like I said in my earlier post, when I found out I was pregnant with Ruby (even though she wasn't a surprise baby) I was scared.  Dustin told me recently (before our baby died) that I have an incredible intuition about things.  This intuition has ALWAYS left me feeling crazy.  I "get a bad feeling" about things from time to time and often I can't explain what exactly it is that gives me the bad feeling, it's just there, and makes me really anxious and uncomfortable.  It's hard to explain a bad feeling when you don't know what about it is bad, but it happens, and a majority of the time after the problem surfaces, I had a bad feeling for a good reason.  Anyway, when I scheduled my first pre-natal visit I asked Dustin if he could come with me "just incase" and I never did that with the other two kids.  He came to the important appointments like the ultrasounds and if there was a possible concern he'd be there if he could but his boss isn't very flexible so for the most part I went to the doctor alone.  With Ruby I was afraid to go alone and I'm not sure why, I have never been afraid to go alone, especially to the first visit.  I even asked a friend if she could come with me, if Dustin couldn't, and then another friend if the first two couldn't come.  I just really didn't want to go alone, just incase.  I don't know why I had a just incase this time, I never did before, but this was different for some reason.  "What if my pregnancy is ectopic, or there are two babies, or there is no heartbeat..." I had a long list of worst case scenarios, and a plan so I didn't have to go alone.  My first appointment was scheduled for July 29th, which felt like an eternity away for an anxious mom, who couldn't wait to see her baby. 

Not long after I found out that I was pregnant with Ruby I started having pain that I could pinpoint to my ovary.  I only have one ovary due to having the other surgically removed and I knew that this pain felt different than the ligament stretching you feel as your belly starts to grow.  I kept trying to tough out the pain, tell myself it as nothing, but as time went on, hours turned into days, turned into a week or two I decided that maybe I should just make sure everything is ok.  I felt a little paranoid and silly calling my doctors office considering this was my third time being pregnant and that I SHOULD know what it's like, but this pain was different, I don't remember it with the other two.  The nurse I talked to at my doctors office went ahead and scheduled me for an ultrasound even though she didn't think it was anything to be concerned with, just to be sure.  As soon as they started the ultrasound I rushed through my mental checklist of worry.  "Baby is in my uterus where she should be, there is only one baby..." and as I was going through my thoughts Dustin said "there's the heartbeat".  He saw it immediately! The most beautiful thing you will ever see is a heart beating from within you.  I really wish I would have recorded it.  I wanted to record it on my phone and save it, but I didn't want them to think I was crazy.  Now I wish I would have just been crazy for that moment, because I only had a few more days before her heart stopped.  A few days later (it was a Monday evening, but I can't remember the date, and don't really want to look at a calendar because I don't want to see the date on the calendar for the rest of my life and remember this) I just didn't feel good.  I was tired (hello pregnancy) and kind of just wiped out feeling, and even though Dustin and I had a ministry meeting he was adamant that I just stay home and rest this one time.  "You need to take care of yourself, they will understand" he told me, and so even though I felt guilty for missing something important, I stayed home.  It was while I was home that evening the bleeding started. 

This is the first time I have ever had bleeding while I was pregnant.  When I was pregnant with Ava I had some internal bleeding, implant bleeding, but nothing ever came out, this blood was bright red, and there was a lot of it, and so I immediately got in the shower.  The shower is my sanctuary of sorts.  It's where I go when I need a moment, when I'm trying to figure out the world, where I do my best praying, its just my place where I go to collect my thoughts, but this time I was broken, terrified, and literally on my face.  I was kneeling there on the shower floor, with my face to the floor, blood running down my legs, begging God not to take my baby from me.  I cried harder and louder than I have ever cried in my entire life begging Him to spare my baby.  In that moment I prayed "Please Lord, not me. Please don't let this happen to me.  Please let me keep my baby! Please let my baby live...but if your answer is no.  If your answer is no Lord, I still love you.  I will still love you and serve you, even if your answer is no." While I was broken on the shower floor, crying out to God, the hymn that says "Have thine own way" was stuck in my head.  I just sang it over and over in my head praying "God, let me have peace with your will" and I meant it. I needed more than anything to have peace with His will. 

All along, long before we conceived Ruby, I have been praying for Gods will for her, and my life with her.  I had prayed when I was entertaining the idea of her, but alone in my idea.  I prayed for His will as the desire grew stronger and became too much to bear.  I prayed for His will when we agree'd to have another baby, I prayed for His will when I learned I was pregnant, and as her life started slipping away, I prayed for His will. I went to the doctors office the next morning (Tuesday)  and they did some blood work (checked my HCG level and progesterone), and a pelvic exam to check for infection.  At that point the bleeding had stopped, God heard my prayer, my plan for my baby and the bleeding stopped.  A few hours later I got a phone call that my progesterone was incredibly low which was probably what caused the bleeding (the lowest they want to see the progesterone at where I was gestationally was 20+, my progesterone was 6) they started me on some progesterone supplements, and at that time I requested an ultrasound.  I had to know if my baby was still alive, and she was.  Praise the Lord she was.  She had grown some since the ultrasound just a few days before, and her heart was stronger.  What a sigh of relief.  The ultrasound technician told me they like to see two things, growth (check) and an increase in heart rate (check again) he mentioned very vaguely about the gestational sac being small, but he didn't say it in a way that lead me to think that was anything to be concerned about, he said the two things they like to see, we had.  What a relief!!! Thursday they had me come in to check my HCG again because they like to see your numbers increase by a minimum of 60% every 48 hours.  Mine increased by less than 20%, the doctors didn't say it, but I knew that wasn't a good sign. 

When I get pregnant I get a lump in my armpit (milk gland) that can be pretty swollen and painful sometimes.  For some reason when I woke up Friday morning, the very first thing I did was feel my armpit, and the lump was almost gone.  With being on the supplemented progesterone there is no reason the lump should be getting smaller, and I instantly panicked inside.  I didn't tell anyone that I was freaking out inside but by late morning it got to the point I couldn't take the worry anymore and called my doctors office again.  I wanted another ultrasound just to see if my baby was still alive and after talking to the nurse again, I decided I would just wait until Tuesday, when I had my first pre-natal appointment, the one I had scheduled what felt like an eternity ago.  She told me they were doing everything they could do for me right now, she told me my previous ultrasound looked good but this was a time where we just have to hope for the best because we never know for sure how it will go, but she reassured me enough to wait through the longest weekend ever, until Tuesday.  If I could just get to Tuesday I could see my baby again and be reassured.  Tuesday was my "just incase" appointment but thankfully I didn't have to go alone. 

Saturday the bleeding started again, but this time it didn't stop. I was taking the progesterone still, but the bleeding came anyway.  My doctor was on call over the weekend thankfully so I finally got to talk to her for the first time through all of this.  When she got on the phone she told me what I think I knew all along, but never EVER wanted to hear.  I was miscarrying.  She said to stop taking the progesterone and that it was ok to miscarry at home, and again I was broken and on my knees.  There are a billion thoughts that hit you when you learn you'll never hold your baby on your chest and hear their first cry.  I felt so incredibly guilty.  I couldn't save her.  I tried everything I could, I was faithful with my vitamins before even trying to get pregnant, I was eating spinach several times a day, every day to make sure my iron was better this time.  I was cutting back on caffeine again because even though I love coffee, and a little bit is ok, I love my baby more, and just wanted the best for her.  I was taking the progesterone and taking it easy as much as I could, but I just couldn't save her.  I couldn't protect her.  I felt so guilty for wanting to have her so bad.  If I could have just been content with two healthy children, my heart wouldn't be broken, all of our hearts wouldn't have to be broken.  I wouldn't have to tell the girls that they won't have a baby to hold soon, I wouldn't have to tell Dustin that this plan we have discussed so many times for years was a bad idea, none of this would have happened if I could have just been content.  But it was too late for that.  Then I realized, that none of this is truly up to me.  Not Mya, not Ava, not Ruby, not any future children, its honestly not up to me.  I can want all that I want, I can plan all that I want, I can try to prepare and control all that I want, but in the end NONE OF THIS IS UP TO ME! That is such a mighty thought, its scary and freeing all at the same time.  All this time I have been praying for Gods will.  I have been praying for God to write my story, but I won't let go of the pen.  I want Him to write my story the way I want it to be written, rather than having enough trust in who He is, to let Him have His will.  How foolish of me.  He will have His will either way, but there's freedom in letting go of the pen. 

After the hardest weekend I have ever have, Tuesday came.  My just incase came, my what if something's wrong came, and that was the day where we saw that her heart had stopped beating, but she was still in my womb.  As much as I knew that she was gone, my heart still longed for that hope in my plan.  Seeing that her heart had stoppeed meant more decisions.  How did I want her to be born? This is not how I had ever imagined my child being born.  I thought of the pictures we would take, and who would hold her first, I thought of what she would look like, and the first time I would feed her, and none of them looked like this.  Nothing in my plan looked like this, but His plan looked this way all along.  He knew this was how my story would go, but He needed me to let go of the pen first. 

In this time in my life I have thought of things I would never have if Ruby would have stayed here with me. I have thought of The Father's love for me in ways I never would have, and for that I am thankful! One day after she had died I was taking a long drive and as I was driving I just cried.  My heart is shattered and broken.  I asked God "God, does your heart break when our hearts are broken?" I know there are times in life when our hearts are broken by our own faults.  We do things that eventually leave our hearts broken and thats not what I mean, I mean when the heartache hits by no cause of our own, does His heart break for ours? A few days later I realized, God lost His baby too.  They crucified Him, so I took that as a yes.  That made my heart hurt for God in a strange way.  My baby didn't bear the sin of all of the world, I held my baby for her whole life.  She never had to experience any of the ugly things of this world.  She went straight from my womb to heaven.  I've thought about even Jesus Himself being on His face before His father in prayer.  " He told them 'my soul is crushed with grief to the point of death.  Stay here and keep watch with me.' He went on a little farther and bowed with his face to the ground, praying, 'My Father! If it is possible, let this cup of suffering be taken away from me. Yet I want your will to be done, not mine.'" Mattthew 26:38-39 NLT.  I didn't think of this in my moments of despair, it wasn't until my first time back at church that they talked about this in Sunday School and I could relate to this.  I have been litterally on my face before the Father, just like Jesus, and there was so much comfort in that. 

I don't know how my story will end.  I don't know how God wants to use this for His glory, I don't know why, or what's next, I don't know any of that.  What I do know is this, He is writing my story.  He is telling it perfectly, and it's about to get really good, I need to just sit at His feet, listen to Him tell me my story, and let go of the pen. 

~Rozi Drue

Ruby is her name

There have been so many things on my mind the last few weeks it's really hard to sort out and put into words the chaos inside of me.  I have thought several times now that maybe a blog post would be a good way to sort out the uncertainty and attempt to make sense of what is so completely confusing.  I thought maybe writing a blog would be a good way to say what's on my heart to those who are wondering without having to say the same things over and over again. If you choose to read this all the way through please know that my feelings are incredibly raw right now.  I am trying my best to put into the most gentle words, the things that are like shards of glass to my soul.  As you read text its easy to assume a certain tone or context but let me just say that this blog is written "quietly" and as gently as I can "voice" it.  Maybe "voicing" what's going on inside of me will be relief to you because you're wondering how I feel, or because you can relate because you've been there. Maybe reading this will be uncomfortable for you because you don't see things the way that I do, that's ok too.  It's not necessary for you to feel the exact same way that I do.  Writing this blog seemed like the easiest way for me to share my story because honestly sometimes I'm ok with saying out loud what is on my heart and sometimes I want to be completely left alone. I really don't even know which moment I'm in, until I'm in it. 

How can I expect anyone else to know what I want or need when I don't even know myself most of the time.  One minute I'm "doing ok" and other moments I'm a crying mess and can't seem to get it together.  Even in this chaos there are a few things that remain constant though, when my heart hurts and everything is so confusing and consuming I just need to know that I am loved.  I need to know that the love for me is not circumstantial, only present when the tears are dry and I have a smile on my face.  I need to know that the love for me isn't when I am meeting everyone else's needs or carrying on like I always have before.  I need to know that when I am broken, and shattered, and hurting, and confused, when I'm angry and silent, or anxious and distant, I need to know that I am loved then too.  I need to know that you care.  You may not know exactly what to say, or exactly how to react around me (trust me, I see it in your eyes) but I don't know how to react around you either.  I don't know if you really want to know what I'm thinking or if you want me to just not mention it because it's uncomfortable, but I promise you, you'll never go wrong with just a hug or saying "I care about you and what you're going through." Being distant is far more hurtful to me, than saying the "wrong" thing.  Being distant feels so so much worse than just having someone say "I care about you" because this is such a lonely and isolating situation already. Being distant feels the same way as saying "I don't care". Also, I don't need you to try to make sense of my circumstances for me.  I am saying this, knowing that I am guilty of this for others.  When we see someone we care about, going through a trial it feels like if we can just make sense of it, we can get through it.  If we can see that it was for a purpose or that we will grow from it, it will be worth it, we just want to take their hurt away, I get it...but right now I haven't even asked God to make sense of it for me.  If I don't question Him, if I don't ask why of the one who gave us life, and has the ability to take it away, if I don't need Him to tell me why, I don't need anyone else to speculate why.  This is one of those times where there innumerable possibilities as to why, but none change the outcome.  This is one of those times where it's up to me as His daughter to find peace in the "because I said so." Please let me say that I do appreciate your attempts to comfort me, even if it's not quite what seems "right" to me at the time, because knowing you care and want to help my heart mend is very precious to me.  (Like I said I'm chaos inside)

Anyway, here's our story of our baby and some of the thoughts I've had along the way.  I don't expect you to agree with me, or see things the way I do because this struggle is unique to me, but I hope that maybe reading my story you will see just a small glimpse as to what's going on inside my heart, and be able to be patient with me along the way. 

Ruby is her name.  I realize that to some people it seems odd to give a gender specific name to a child you have never met, to a child that you don't really KNOW a gender for, but Ruby is her name, and we love her.  From the moment I knew I was pregnant, Ava insisted she was having a baby sister and no amount of "well, maybe it could be a brother too" would change her mind about it.  I dreamt of our precious baby long before my womb was full, but the only gender specific dream I had, our baby was a little girl so that's what is comfortable to us.  If we get to heaven and have a son waiting there for us, then we have a son named Ruby, and that's ok.  We'll be in heaven and he won't be mocked for having a "girl" name...it's heaven.  I loved the name Ruby long before we decided to welcome another child into our lives.  I loved the name Ruby because Proverbs 31:10 says "Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies." some translations say "A woman of noble character is more precious than rubies" I just love that.  I loved the thought of having little Ruby Drue like me, little Rozi Drue, so I just loved the name Ruby.  Ruby seems like it fits all through life, I pictured another curly haired little girl named Ruby and someday a grandma with a lap full of grandbabies named Ruby.  I thought of her life all along the way and Ruby just fit for me.  Dustin didn't agree.  For whatever reason he just wasn't a fan of that name, so when we conceived it wasn't on our list of names we were mulling over.  Ruby was my birthday present.  I took a pregnancy test on July 1st (my last day of my 20's) because I thought IF I was pregnant (I didn't really think that I was) I couldn't think of a better way to end my 20's than knowing there was new life inside of me.  The birthstone for July is ruby so it's always been my favorite (what can I say, I love red).  Then when we knew we wouldn't meet her until heaven, I struggled with wanting to name her.  She was more than embryo, she was more than a lost pregnancy, she was our baby and we love her.  As I searched through pinterest for Ruby quotes I came across a scripture I hadn't heard before.  "She is more precious than rubies; nothing you desire can compare with her" Proverbs 3:15.  We only had her with us for July, and nothing we desire can compare with her so we decided Ruby is perfect. She is her own child, and truly nothing we desire will compare with her because she is uniquely ours in her own way, just like Mya and Ava and any future children. 

Here are the things I've struggled with along the way, Ruby's story starts long before we decided to have her, like years before, and I think that's why letting her go before ever holding her hurts so incredibly much for me.  I've desired her for years and struggled with feeling worthy and capable of having more babies.  Dustin has such a content nature, and is happy with the two kiddos we already have that he just wasn't up for adding another baby.  Our big girls are sleeping well, and more self-sufficient by the day, they are fun to play with and are just such cool little people he didn't "need" more babies.  His heart is content and full just the way it is. I struggled with being grateful for the happy healthy girls we have, and the desire to have more.  There are so many days I am overwhelmed with all of my duties as a wife, and mother, and sister, and friend that adding another person to care for to the mix, by all accounts is "crazy" but that didn't change my longing for another baby.  I spent a LOT of time trying to convince myself internally that I didn't really want another baby and it was just "baby fever" but in reality my heart knew better.  It wasn't until I started trying to get rid of the kids' baby stuff that it hit me like a ton of bricks.  I sat on the living room floor in literal heaps of baby clothes I was trying to sort and sell, and sobbed.  I wasn't ready to be done having babies, but everything I have ever known was telling me I had to be. I had to get rid of their clothes and things because I couldn't keep hanging onto them and looking at them just hoping. It felt like the world had so many reasons why we shouldn't have more babies and why I was crazy for even entertaining the idea.  We couldn't "afford" more kids, I already have too much on my plate, I'm impatient and easily overwhelmed, the list goes on and on...but my heart and desire never changed.  All I've ever wanted in this life is to be a wife and a mom.  At that moment I started praying for Gods will.  God if it's your will, please let us have more babies.  I talked to Dustin about it here and there, just little snippets because having a serious conversation would just leave me discouraged and vulnerable.  His different desire fueled so many insecurities within me (not his fault by any means, just what happened within me) I just kept thinking maybe if I could be a better mom, a better wife, have it more together I could prove that I was good enough and mom enough to love another baby and still care for the two we already have. I have struggled with feeling selfish for wanting another baby since it affects all of us adding another person to our lives, and I struggled with the battle of "why can't you just be content?!"   Every time I would feel myself frustrated with Mya and Ava or overwhelmed with just the day to day things that happen in life I would feel defeated and insecure and like "see, this is why you can't have more, you aren't good enough for the two you already have" That insecurity raged like wild fire for a long time, and still does.  When Dustin's mind didn't change, and the desire never left me, I started praying differently.  Lord, if this is not your will, please change my heart.  Having something you so desperately desire be so far from your reach is incredibly painful, especially when it fuels your insecurities of being good enough.  As I kept genuinely praying and desiring Gods will rather than my own, He didn't change my heart, He changed Dustin's and we decided to try again to expand our family.  In the midst of this decision our home dynamic changed and we had my sister, brother in law, and their 3 children move in with us.  We went from a 4 person home to a 9 person home which was a trial all of it's own.  Having a toddler around again (whom I love, very much) reminded me of all that a toddler requires.  It reminded me of the things you forget when you start sleeping through the night again, and suddenly I was afraid.  I started thinking God, NOW are you trying to change my heart? NOW that we have made the decision to expand our family, are these second thoughts coming from you? So again I started to pray "God, if it is your will, give us another child, either way, please let me have peace about it." Then I got pregnant.  This was the first time I have ever cried when I found out I was pregnant.  With Mya I was shocked and over the moon, with Ava I literally jumped up and down for joy, with Ruby, I cried, I was scared.  What if I can't do this again? What if I can't love her enough to make her feel important in this life? What if I love her too much and it makes the other girls feel less important to me? What if I don't have enough time to devote to each of them to make them feel special, what if they ever question how much I love them? When I took the pregnancy test I handed it to Dustin (I was shaking) and all I could say was "I'm scared" before I burst into tears.  It's more than just the hormones, its a million doubts and insecurities, wonders and worry, bursting to the surface along with overwhelming joy all in one.  What will people think when they know we decided to have another baby, on purpose? What will they think when money is tight or I get overwhelmed and weary? It was a lot to process, something I have so desperately desired has finally come true. 

I've always had an idea of how I thought I'd feel about miscarriage.  I have always thought when I've found out that I am pregnant that I would share right away (and have) for several reasons.  1) babies are the most precious things this life has to offer.  A child is the only thing in this entire existence that is 1/2 Dustin and 1/2 me to be created and whole.  Having more children whether planned or not is such a joyful thing for me that my heart can't contain it.  I share, immediately and often in the middle of the night.  I've woken many people up late at night just because I couldn't contain my joy not one more second.  2) if people know there is a child in my womb, they might be willing to pray for the baby, and for us.  Having a baby is so joyful but it's also difficult, and honestly life is fragile, the more prayers the better.  3) If I miscarry it will be the love and prayers from the people who care that help get us through it.  I've learned with Ruby how incredibly true this is for me.  It's the people who have come along side our family in our darkest moments that have helped us see the light.  It's the people who have held me as I cried harder than I knew I could, the people who laid in bed with me and just held my hand as I poured out my heart that have helped me keep going.  Love never fails.  But speculating how it might feel, and how it actually feels are still very different.  It's true what is said that you never truly know how something feels until it happens to you, and even then every person experiences grief differently.  There are times where I have felt so incredibly alone, like no one in the world hurts the way I do.  It feels as though life carries on without you and all around you, and you can't even collect your thoughts enough to know if you've brushed your teeth or when was the last time you've eaten.  It's hard to see life carry on at the same pace when you are at a complete standstill and it seems as though no one knows how broken you are. 

I'd never realized how many things would be hard to hear or understand (even if well intended) until Ruby died.  First is the fact that not everyone sees my baby as a baby.  Not even a good portion of my family sees her as such.  She was never alive so she didn't die, we lost a pregnancy, not a baby.  That is one of the most untrue things of all.  I didn't lose Ruby.  I didn't carelessly misplace her or forget her somewhere, she was in my womb right were she was supposed to be.  Two out of the three times I saw her, she was very much alive.  Her little heart flickered and beat although her body was only the size of a sweet pea.  Her heart rate was 129 beats per minute, hear heart beat faster than my own, I'm alive and so was she.  The second time I saw her was after I started bleeding the first time.  I asked to see her because I had to know if she was ok, if she was still alive.  Someone very special to me (who does not want to be named) came to be with me so I didn't have to go alone, and this person saw Ruby too, still very much alive, and growing.  She was 6 weeks and 6 days old and her heart was beating 160 beats per minute, stronger and faster than just the few days before. There was hope, she was alive and growing, and then just a few days later I started to bleed.  The next time I saw her, her body was lifeless.  Her heart was no longer beating, but her body was still inside of mine. I didn't lose her, she died.  Acknowledging that she lived even though it wasn't very long, and that she died makes it too "real" for many people.  Seeing her as a living person rather than just an embryo or clump of tissue makes her worthy of life, and then that means that the babies who's lives were taken by choice of another were worthy of life too.  That's too real, so I lost a pregnancy not a baby.  They terminated a pregnancy, not took the life of a baby.  I am not trying to take my grief and turn it into guilt for anyone who has made that decision in their life, but I just need the world to know that my baby mattered and wasn't anything less than that.  I refuse to minimize her importance and her life because it's a touchy subject or makes other people uncomfortable. 

I have found myself many many times now, worrying more about everyone else than myself.  I have kind of always been that way.  I'm a feeler, empathetic almost to a fault.  I regularly put how I feel last, for the sake of sparing someone else's feelings.  I have put myself in my doctors shoes, or the ultrasound technicians thinking how terrible it must be to have to tell people so frequently that their baby has died.  I could tell by the look in the technicians eyes that day, it never gets easier.  The flip side of that is I often find myself unable to stand up for myself or share my heart because it might upset someone. (This is part of the reason I decided to write a blog rather than keep posting on facebook what has been on my heart) I keep thinking if I say that, it will probably just backfire or someone will tell me how I should feel, or what I should think, or how they feel about how I feel, and this is just one of those times I wish the shoe was on the other foot. Maybe if they tried just a dash of empathy, or tried to think how I must feel, they would be a little more patient and kind with me.   People can say and act so many different ways in all of life's circumstances and you're just supposed to deal with it, but when you have finally had enough and speak up and say "this was hurtful regardless of how you intended it" you're wrong.  That has made me really withdraw and take a step back from who I can handle being around.  I know the majority doesn't purposely say things that sting or are unhelpful, but sometimes that happens anyway.  Sometimes you mean well in saying things like "well you can always have another" or "maybe God knew you couldn't handle it" but those things aren't at all helpful.  I don't KNOW that we can have more babies, we'd like to think we could but nothing in this life is guaranteed, BUT even if we do have more, it doesn't replace Ruby.  It doesn't undo the fact that our baby died, it just gives us another baby.  Hearing "maybe God knew you couldn't handle it" only throws more fuels on the fire of my insecurity of not being good enough to have more babies. Most of all, not being able to voice what hurts and what helps only leaves me feeling more isolated and alone in the times that are so confusing and hard already.

And for the last part, sharing what I have found that helps sometimes.  Prayer is a huge one! There have been a LOT of low points along the way, many a day, but just getting a quick text or facebook message that says "I'm praying for you today" (and actually doing so) means so much and helps so much! The second thing that helps a lot is just having people ask "how are you?" and then being willing to listen genuinely to the response.  Some moments I'm ok, some moments I'm not, but knowing people really truly want to know and care how I'm doing in that moment is really comforting too.  Third, telling me if you happen to think about her is HUGE! I know its intimating to know what to say to someone who is grieving but knowing that you think of her too helps me feel like she mattered to more than just me, and that she's thought of by more than just me.  Just the other day Ava and I were driving and she said to me "Mom, I really miss my baby sister.  When will she come back from heaven back into your tummy?" and so I told her "Ava, Ruby won't ever get back into my tummy, she's in heaven and we will only get to see her when we die and go to heaven too." and she started to cry and got really frustrated and said something along the lines of "UGH, but that's such a long time!!" and of course I cried too, but it was because I have thought that so many times too. I know that I'm here on this earth for a reason, I know that I have a purpose to fulfill here, and a family to take care of here, but there are moments where I have thought how lovely it will be to hug her and tell her how much I love her.  It was so comforting to know in that moment, Ava was missing her too.  It was comforting to know that in that moment Ava was sad that she won't get to meet and play with her baby sister until heaven, it was nice to know that I'm not alone in this.  So even though there may be times that what you say will bring tears to my eyes, it's nice to know that you're thinking of her too.  It's nice to hear her name.  Lastly, I think the most comforting thing of all for me, is hugs.  If you aren't a hugger, ice cream is a perfectly acceptable substitute, but I really enjoy hugs.  Hugs say everything that words get wrong. 

Thank you for being patient with me along the way.  Thank you for caring enough to read what is on my heart and for caring enough to check on me. Thank you for feeding my family (many of you have brought meals and that was HUGE for us) and for praying for us, and thank you for those of you who have shared your own experiences with miscarriage and have let me ask you questions so freely.  Knowing that I'm not alone means more than you may ever know. 

All my love,
Rozi Drue

My M's: Marriage, Motherhood, and Ministry

I seem to take long breaks in between blogs (years even) but it's never that long before I think about writing.  I've laid in bed at night, many many times and thought about writing again, but life has a way of getting awfully busy regardless of how you feel about it.  I've really tried to be more careful and purposeful with how I spend my time, so a blog just really isn't a priority.  (Although it feels a lot more enjoyable than laundry) lately the nag on my mind to blog again has really hit full force, but this time it's been different.  The idea of blogging has been more of blogging with a purpose more than just blogging for the sake of keeping a journal or something along those lines.  I've always been deeply concerned with people.  I am absolutely fascinated with people, their story, what makes them tick, what burdens them, and I've been a "helper" by nature for as long as I can remember.  That helpful nature about me is not always a good thing.  I find myself often consumed with things I can't change, burdened by other's choices or afflictions and honestly as I grow older (and hopefully more mature) I really have to focus on not letting those things get the best of me.  It's so much easier said than done for me.  I get taken advantage of, often, because I care too much or help too much.  I get my feelings hurt and my heart broken over and over, but that's just how life goes sometimes.  I'm learning how to brush things off a little more and carry on.  That is absolutely not easy for me, but I'm a constant work in progress. 

With that helpful nature, fascination and concern for people I've really thought, maybe I should blog.  Maybe this is my way I can be helpful without cannonballing into things that in the end, I can't really change.  Maybe sharing my struggles, and growth, sharing what I've learned and what I'm learning will help someone else along the way? Maybe being transparent about my faults and triumphs will be a little less "know it all" and a little more relatable in blog form? We all know that even the best intended advice, can sting depending on our circumstances.  So maybe this is how I can "help" while growing myself too. 

I want to blog with a purpose.  I want to care about people and help people, but constructively.  I want to use my spiritual gifts to the best of my ability and ultimately help people draw closer to Him.  Draw closer to Him in marriage, motherhood, and ministry.  That's where this season of life has me.  I have not perfected any of these 3 areas, and honestly I never will.  Each day brings something new, sometimes its good new, sometimes its bad new, but it's new nonetheless.  But I hope my journey in this life, and my growth in Him, in these areas can be an encouragement to others.  Maybe someone will think "hey, I'm there too..." or "hey, I'll keep an eye out for this so I won't have the same experience" however this pans out, I pray His blessings on you, and on me, afterall, we're in this together. 

So to kick of this 3 M's blog, I want to start with motherhood.  Now if you aren't a mother, don't let that make you stop reading because I promise what I'm going to say will still apply to you.  If you are a mom, don't let that make you stop reading either, because I promise what I'm going to say will still apply to you. 

I think a majority of my life has been spent second guessing myself.  Did I do the right thing, say the right thing, give the right impression? Were my intentions obvious...did I fail??? And being a mother has only amplified that question in my heart, a zillion times! If you were to ask me when I was a little girl, "what do you want to be when you grow up?" I wouldn't have said some elegant, noteworthy career.  I didn't want to go to college, have my name engraved on plaques or a desk by a window.  I wanted something that seems so mundane but is so so mighty.  I wanted to be a wife and a mom.  I wanted my name on birth certificates and future wedding announcements (Rosalynn requests your presence at her little dream baby's wedding) that sort of thing.  Then when that dream came true, it was terrifying! What if I'm terrible at this mom thing? What if I don't say the right thing, feed the right thing, teach the right things? What if my intentions aren't obvious as a mother, what if I do this wrong? My biggest concern as a mom isn't whether they get the nutrition they need, or if they're the smartest kids in the class, I don't care if they have cereal for dinner sometimes or completely bomb their spelling tests.  My worry is far greater than that.  What if they grow up, and don't know how much I REALLY love them? What if they second guess that? What if they look back and say, I wish my mom loved me more, showed me more, made it more real for me.  I wish my mom was there for me more when I needed her.  That fear has had me in tears more times than I care to admit, even recently.  I love these kids so much it literally hurts sometimes. I've wanted so desperately to be their mom, but man, being in the care of a person requires so much more than I ever imagined, what if I mess it up? I don't want to mess it up. I've messed things up my whole life, please not my kids too. Only time will tell. I'm sure there will be times they hate me (hopefully it's shark week and it's justified) I'm sure there will be times they wish I'd just let up, and let them figure things out for themselves, but oh how I pray I'll get it right. No matter how many times I slip up, Lord please let them always know how much I love them. Recently I had a little epiphany.  I wonder if this is how God feels about us? We're created in His image right? Ok so I know that's a little far fetched because I don't think God worries, He's God afterall.   But I wonder if its similar to how He feels about us? Does He look down on us an think "little child of mine, do you fully grasp my love for you? Do you see me there for you every time you've ever needed me? Do you see me there even when you've wanted to figure things out for yourself? Do you know how much I really love you?" and that concept brought me to my knees. No matter how many times I'll mess up this mommy thing, I need to keep pointing them, and myself back to Him.  I'm not going to get it right, but if they love and serve Him, at least I got something right, the rest isn't up to me. 

<3 Rozi Drue

This One's Not So Peppy

I haven't blogged in almost a year,  I've wanted to...but decided against it because everything I've wanted to say has been on more of the gloomy side.  But tonight, I sit in a quiet house and decide that maybe getting a few things off my chest would help. Even if I'm just venting to the computer. 

So bluntly stated,  this year has been pretty crappy.  Nothing MAJOR has happened, just done a LOT of thinking and realizing this year.  Maybe that's what happens when you get older, you start to realize things that you've been blind to but this year has been one big giant slap in the face.  A lot of it makes me wonder what's wrong with me? Most of my disappointment has come from realizing that relationships I have valued seem to mean nothing to anyone but me.  Friends have become a distant memory, I've gone from best friend, to friend, to client.  Family doesn't seem to care one bit what's going on with my little family whether its good or bad, and it realllllly breaks my heart.  I know that I do have people in my life that love me, that value me, that value my friendship, and relationship whether I'm laughing or crying.  And I thank the Lord a million times for that, but I can't pretend that I'm not bummed about how things have been.  I wish I could just see why things are the way they are, and go back to being like they used to be, but I also know that everything happens for a reason so even in my heartache I try to be content and grateful. 

I do wonder what is wrong with me though.  I wonder why am I not good enough for people to want to stay in my life? What am I doing that makes people hit the road and not look back? Why? Why don't you care when something good happens in my life, why don't you care when something bad does too? When I'm asking for prayer on facebook or any other way why don't you wonder why I'm asking for prayer? Why aren't you excited for the good things in my life like birthdays and anniversaries, the milestones of my children? Why? And I don't have the answer for that, I don't think anyone does.  The only piece of advice I ever get is "just don't let it bother you, just stop caring" and I only wish it were that easy.  I wish I were able to just say, if they don't care to be a part of my life then so be it. But that's not how it works for me.  I want to be loved, I want to be prayed for, and rejoiced with.  So that's where my struggle lies. 

I have ALWAYS struggled with not feeling good enough.  I was always too skinny, too ugly cause I had glasses, the good kid "goodie two shoes" the kids were mean because I was too skinny, teachers were mean because I was too skinny.  People gave me a hard time because I always had headaches and treated me like I was making it up.  And now the distance and lack of care from everyone who is supposed to love me and be there for me just vaildates how I feel.  I've lived my whole life with people nagging at me for something.  Even doing what was right somehow turned out to be something that was a bad thing.  And now here I am back in the same boat.  The last almost 2 years of my life I've gained more weight than I ever have and look like a somewhat normal person and now I'm getting crap for that too cause I'm getting fat.  I can't win.  And honestly I'm tired of trying.  I'm tired of trying to do what's always right, and be who everyone else thinks I should be.  No matter what I do it doesn't seem to be right anyway.  People still remove themselves from my life one by one regardless. 

I just wish things were different.  I look back over my last few blogs (I know there aren't many) and just reflect over my life and I think this is the first year I've ever felt truly unhappy (aside from when Dustin moved away) I'm not sure how to fix it.  I've tried to sort things out with some of the people that have gotten further and further away from me, but it comes back to "the ball is in your court" well to me this isn't a game.  I don't want a ball to be in my court  cause I'm not sure what to do with the "ball".  I want things to be like they should be.  I'm not perfect, I'm broken and flawed just like everyone else... but I still want to be loved.  I don't want to spend an incredibly long amounts of time with someone day in and day out being ignored.  I'm not sure what I've done to deserve that, but if I've wronged you, give me a chance to make it right, don't just cut me off and pretend I don't exist. 

In all of this mess I just keep thinking how grateful I am for my little family. I'm not talking relatives and cousins etc, I'm talking the 4 other people that live in this house with me that make up my family because I don't know what I'd do without them.  I know God put them in my life for a reason because without them I would have nothing. Most days they are my only source of joy.  The reason I keep on keeping on.  And I know that every bit of that is of the Lord.  He knew I would need Dustin in my life to get me through SO many things.  I rely on his love to keep me going on a day to day basis.  I hope I never take him for granted because I can't imagine my life without him too. 

So for now I don't know what to do.  I want to be happy and I give it my best shot.  I wake up every day with the hopes of a new, good day and look to the Lord to see what all he has in store for me, but for now I need to just learn how to be content, and hope that one day my heart won't hurt so much.

Farewell to Twenty-Six...You Treated Me Well My Friend

In a few short hours I will be chronogically another year older and these last few days I have been thinking a lot about what all has happened this last year. As I reflected over this last year I have to say I think it has probably been one of the best ones of my life.  And the great thing about that is that I have said that many times now but things just keep getting better and better.  I thank the Lord for these blessings he has put in my life because without Him I may not have so many things to be thankful for over this last year.  It feels like this year has gone by fast and slow all at the same time and SO many things have happened.  I decided tonight while the rest of my house is sound asleep that I would blog about them that way in a few years I can be reminded of how good life is and hopefully how many ways it is even better by then. 

There were certainly some hard times in this last year as well which include my sister leaving to war in Afghanistan and having to leave her two boys behind. One blessing was that I was able to see her just a few days before she left but it was incredibly hard because I didn't know if that was the last time I would ever see her again.  I couldn't even bring myself to say goodbye to her because it made it too real for me.  I had to try my best to put on my brave "big sister face" and hope that I could make it out of her eyesight before breaking down.  I didn't I ended up crying a good part of the way to the airport.  On the plus side I was able to go to California in March when she came home safely.  I had intended on surprising her when she came home but the news got leaked so it wasn't a surprise but it was amazing none the less. 

In August Mya started Kindergarten at Anchor Lutheran.  And thankfully that first day of school wasn't as hard as I anticipated.  I think her going there every day for like a year before really helped take that sting out of "My baby is growing up" not only did she start kindergarten but she became a big sister all in the same week.  And oh what an amazing sister she has been.  She absolutely adores Ava and can't get enough hugs and kisses even if that means she makes Ava scream.  She is the clown of the two so far and she does whatever she can to make Ava laugh.  I think one of my favorite parts of the day is when I pick them both up and all I can hear is laughing coming from the back seat of the car.  I can hardly ever see what is so funny but I guess it's none of a mom's business anyway. 

We took a family vacation over spring break and it was probably one of the most fun times I have ever had.  We went to the Great Wolf Lodge and it was AMAZING!!! I am counting down the days until we can go again.  During our trip Mya got to see a little glimpse into the life of a cowgirl and she is HOOKED.  She asks pretty regularly when she is going to get to go to aunt Carrie's again and ride horses.  She even got pink cowgirl boots for her birthday and she told me right away she is going to wear them when she goes riding at Carries. 

Ava has been such a wonderful addition to our family.  Before she was born it was really hard to imagine diving the love I had for Mya between two babies but thankfully God doesn't make you do that.  He just gives you more love to go around.  Ava is a completely different kid than Mya ever was.  That makes me nervous for when they become teenagers.  Ava has made all of the milestones along the way and is even walking now.  She isn't walking full time but a good portion of the time.  She can walk from one side of the livingroom to the other and she's only 10 months old.  I have a feeling we are really in for it with this little bundle of joy. She's saying quite a few words such as mama, dada, mya, bye, ny night, up, hi and has even put two words together.  Mya bye (she was crawling around looking for Mya one day when she was out) and hi dada. 

Mya has had all sorts of things happen in her little life this year also.  She became a big sister, started school, lost her first tooth, learned how to ride a bike.  She's on a roll... rapid paced even.  Everytime I blink my eyes she's doing something new to make me feel old. 

I have also had the priviledge and blessing of abundant friendships this year.  I was able to stand up next to a very close friend of mine as she married her best friend. That wedding was the most God filled one I have ever been to and certainly been a part of.  You could just feel the Holy Spirit abundantly present that day and I look forward to seeing how their love and marriage grows over the years.  She is so amazing and deserves a man who loves her like he does.  I have also been blessed to grow amazingly close to my friend across the street.  She has been there for me in SO many ways its hard to list them all.  She loves on my babies when I need a moment, and just because she enjoys it.  She cleaned my house while we were on vacation, she's laughed with me, cried with me...just been amazing and I can't imagine what life would be like without her.  It blows my mind how God chooses the people He places in your life.  I think thats certainly one of His ways to show His love for us by giving us unbelievable friends and family.  Today I came home from work to see a gathering of colorful papers sticking out all over our front door.  After we pulled into the garage I went to the front of the house to see what was there and the sweet kids that live in the neighborhood had handmade birthday cards for me.  It was the sweetest most heart warming thing.  I love those kids and I am so thankful for their love for me.  The simple things go a long way. 

And lastly my sweet loving husband.  I don't even know where to begin with him.  He starts every single day with making me a cup of coffee just because he knows how much it brightens my day. The other night my back was hurting really bad and so I got in the shower for a while to soak it.  When I got out he was already in bed and as I climbed into bed my side was scorching hot.  I thought maybe he had laid on my side until I got out of the shower but to my surprise he had gotten the heating pad and plugged it in so that it would be nice and hot for my sore back when I climbed into bed.  Today I got a mysterious flower delivery today at work and my boss and I speculated who could have sent flowers.  I said well I know it wasn't Dustin because as long as I have known and loved him he said that having flowers delivered is a waste of money.  I decided to call the flower shop to see if they could tell me who sent them and....IT WAS HIM. I couldn't believe it!!! He's always finding new ways to sweep me off my feet.  I don't know what I have ever done to deserve him and all of his love but I am so thankful that I did it.  Just when I think he couldn't be more incredible I wake up, its a new day...and he does something all over again to make me have butterflies.
Thank you Lord for the best year of my life so far.  I can't wait to see what 27 has in store for me.
~Rozi Drue

Another Bittersweet Mommy Moment

Well tonight is the eve of my number 1 baby girl's birthday and it is always such a bittersweet thing for me.  I feel like the time with those I love is just so precious yet goes by faster than I can comprehend.  I know I should not hold tightly to the things of this world but when it comes to those I love I simply can't help it.

Tonight a dear friend and neighbor of mine came over to help me decorate for tomorrows taco birthday dinner and I heard my friend say "good night Mya" and sure enough my sweet little girl was soundly sleeping while wrapped in her fuzzy princess blanket.  I continued to busy my mind with decorating but my heart strings were being tugged with every streamer.  How did life already pass by so fast? I remember wishing colic away like it was just yesterday but now I have a little girl who is currently growing her first permanent tooth.  What a year it has been for my sweet Mya Jean.  She became a kindergartener and a big sister in the same week, she learned how to tie her shoes, she lost her first tooth its all flown by so fast.  This year has been so different for our family because I have seen a side of my daughter I wouldn't have been able to see if we hadn't decided to change her life by adding to our family. She is so incredibly thoughtful and caring.  She loves with a passion that makes my heart melt.  And she finds such joy in the smiles and laughter of her baby sister that she will do whatever it takes to get them both to the hiccupps.  One day Mya was playing outside and someone had hurt her feelings so she came inside crying (I wasn't home to witness this) and when Mya cries...Ava cries.  So Mya told her dad all about what broke her heart and as Mya continued to cry... so did Ava and Mya said "I love you Ava, you are my best friend!" and I just can't get over how sweet it is for her to love her sister like that even from the beginning.  She is such a sweet, amazing blessing in our lives, and although I don't necessarily like that she's growing up so quickly I do love the person that she is becoming. 

Thank you Lord for blessing my life with Mya.  I will never be the same, and for that I am grateful.