Ella Bella

We found out today, we had a baby girl.

Ella Grace.

I was driving to Big Al's office this morning, my spirits puny. A puny even a trip through Hobby Lobby didn't cure. I tried. Going for chromosomal results shouldn't be that big of a deal, but I felt like: a) We had taken a test, b) We had failed (I know, I know, but hear me out) and c) Now we had to find out why.

I was crying into my sweet tea cup when I flipped on the radio.

I heard a song I had never heard before. But I sang along like I knew the words anyway. I truly believe God put it there for a specific purpose today.
It's by Mercy Me and it's called (perfectly) "The Hurt and the Healer". Absolutely precious. Talks about where glory meets our suffering and how our hurt and the Healer collide. Profound, for me, on this day.

Ella Grace. Ella meaning simply "she". Grace meaning "by the Grace of God". Ella Grace had Turner Syndrome. It doesn't change a darn thing. But here's where my peace meets my human soul. I was fully, fully expecting to hear that our baby had a disorder or diagnosis that was "incompatible with life". Dr. Sermons told us two weeks ago to expect something that says "yadda yadda...incompatible with life". So that's what I told myself the case was. No arguing with that. The problem, for me, Turner Syndrome is every bit compatible with life.

I'm having a bit of a head to head with myself and I know it's because of my passion and chosen career in life, I know it is. I would never ever in a million and one years want our baby to be born into this life with one single thing wrong with her. No parent chooses this for their child. At the same time, being in the field I am in and pouring myself into it daily, I truly acknowledge that EVERY child is an absolute gift. There is no diagnosis too grave, no disorder bigger than my faith in God Almighty.

I'm at peace, I really am. This is just part of our story that God is writing through us. We don't hold the pen. We just don't. I do know one thing; that if God had entrusted us to raise Ella Grace here on earth, we would have done a mighty fine job of doing it. We would have loved her like crazy, we already do.

Ella Grace was born straight into her Daddy's arms, and that is something so big I simply can't comprehend it.

Ella Grace, thank you for reminding us that God is good. Thank you for the sweet, sweet joy you have brought us. Thank you for showing us that God's grace and healing can move mountains. Thank you for reminding us to praise Him daily for our blessings.

When I get up to heaven I am going to rock you to sleep, tickle you like crazy, push you high on heaven's swing set and teach you all the good things of this world down here. And you will teach me all about the good things of heaven. What a sweet sweet day that will be!

We love you Ella Bella, we surely do.

The BIG 2!

Remember this?

Or this?

How 'bout this?

Oh my gracious, me either. Only if I stand on my head, squint my eyes, and wiggle my toes. Then, just then, it comes right back to me.

We are just crazy about this little man. Love, love, love him to pieces!

Happy Birthday Super Coop! Xoxo

Alligator

Coop and I did our thing today. You know, our Wednesday thing. The one where we go to ride the horsies at the mall and eat Chick-fil-a and sprinkle cookies from the Cookie Company. Only today Coop begged and begged to ride the "alligator" (elevator) in Macy's. So we did. Up and down and up and down. "Alligator mommy! Alligator!" Bless his bones. Then we drove through the JC Penny "tunnel" (parking deck) tooting the horn like we were riding through tunnels in the mountains. It was glorious. Sweet food for my soul. 

What with our expired tag on my mommy mobile that WILL NOT pass an emissions test to save it's life, I'm surprised the mall cop on his Segway didn't pull us right over. Wild things, we are.

Coop's birthday party is 10 days away. Somehow in the shuffle of the last two weeks I completely dropped the ball on getting his invites out in a timely manner. Ridiculous. I'm always on top of that stuff. Hmph.

I've just about recovered from the seatbelt episode. Just about. For sure not one of my finer moments. Sigh. I even made it through two long days at work. God's reminding me of the power of His grace every single day. He tells me that every little thing is gonna be alright. He sings over me when I am grumpy and tells me "chin up buttercup" when I am feeling blue. He's a mighty fine rock, don't you agree?

Emissions Test

I went back to work. It was probably too soon. I was a nut job and all I could think about was missing Cooper grow up. Ridiculous, I know.

I thought I was doing better today, then I took the car to get an emissions test this morning because somehow in the craziness of this last week, we completely forgot to get our tag renewed. The car failed and I burst into tears at the little emissions test tent. The poor emissions man. He just looked at me. I mumbled something about being the lady driving around with an expired tag and empty belly and he just stared at me. He took my money and told me to be careful, that the city of Suwanee has a camera right at his tent and they probably already red flagged my tag. I put on my rhinestone sparkle sunglasses (in the rain) and sped off doing the ugly cry. Stupid tag. Stupid emissions test.

We went to Ludi Mae's birthday party tonight. It was just precious. She was a doll and I can hardly believe she is two years old already. On the way home my seatbelt attacked me. You know, when it locks into place on your shoulder and no matter what you do, it won't let you go? I started flailing around and yanking the seatbelt and burst into tears and cried for two hours. Once the unlovelyness subsided, Chris told me he thought I was seizing in the car. He was scared stiffless. Just drove and drove with me convulsing and cursing. Amazing that he can love me when I'm darn near unlovable.

What was I to do? I got attacked by a seatbelt.

Our kitchen island is full of sweet notes, cards, and flowers from sweet sweet friends. Our fridge is full of yummy meals and baked goodies. We cannot thank you all enough. Remember when I said something about "joy shared is double joy and sorrow shared is half the sorrow"? So true. Sharing our joy brought us so much happiness. Sharing our sorrow is one of the toughest things we've had to do, but we sure do appreciate you all helping to carry the load. We surely do.

Upside Down and Inside Out

I went to return a RedBox last night and somehow lost an hour in the parking lot staring at people move around like little robots. I'm not myself. I'm just not. I've got the peace of God that transcends all on my side, I really do, but I'm still just all out of whack. 

Chris took me to IKEA today and the buggy drove me crazy. It wouldn't even drive straight. Just kept sliding all over the place.

I'm mad because sweet tea tastes good again. I should be happy about that but I'd rather it taste horrible and still have our little baby. 

I typically slip into stealth mode when we are hit with any kind of crisis. We've had plenty of practice in this. These shouldn't be uncharted waters.  I rolled with the punches like a champ through the gun case, through the days and months of unemployment after Chris' company shut their doors, through the Kudzu diagnosis and Juice treatment. Just put on the armor of God and my big girl panties and dealt with it.

This is different. This was our tiny promise of good things to come and to be honest, I am just devastated. I don't know which way is up and which way is down. Am I coming or going? I tried to brush my teeth with diaper ointment. I keep looking at our precious little baby on the ultrasound picture from just a few short days ago and wonder what on earth went wrong. We should get the autopsy and chromosomal testing back soon but part of me doesn't even want to know. 

It's absolutely insane to me that is so common. It actually makes me feel a million times worse hearing about so many precious friends who have gone through this very thing. My heart just breaks for each and every one of you. 

Anyway, this is foreign territory to me. I feel like I typically don't know how to be anything but strong and stubborn and I'm pretty much anything but that right now. 

I listened to Cooper sing "Jesus loves me" over the monitor last night as he fell asleep. He sounded like a choir of angels. I can hear him in the shower quacking like a duck right now and can't stop thanking God for blessing us with him. He'll get out of the shower, put on his "rhiroserous" rhinoceros) pajamas, cuddle in my lap while he watches Fireman Sam, and fall fast asleep in his new big boy room. He will remind us of God's promise of his perfect timing in our lives. He will teach us how to be strong and help us remember to praise our great God above. We sure couldn't be any more blessed. 

Rise

I wanted to take a minute to thank you all for the words of encouragement and for the unending prayers you have poured out for us. We sure need 'em and we sure feel 'em. Through everything we've been through over the past few years, our one prayer has been that no matter what happens, that God will be glorified.

In the midst of our devastation and sadness, He is being glorified. I can see it.

I got in trouble the day of my surgery. I was supposed to start meds Thursday night to start contractions and make things easier for Friday morning. I just couldn't take them. Couldn't. Could not.

I should have though. It would have made surgery easier for Big Al. The nurses got on to me and Dr. Sermons just shook his head and shuffled around in his black church shoes. Mostly I was just happy to feel guilty about something other than eating feta cheese and drinking Coca-Cola.

Anesthesia came in to talk to us before I went into the OR. I was a hot mess, squaling and carrying on, detailing our issues with what happened the last time I was at Northside delivering a baby. By the time the OR opened up for me, a different anesthesiologist came in.

He looked at Chris, looked at me and his eyes got big as saucers. He was THE ONE who was there when I seized and talked about seeing Jesus and Mama Potts when Cooper was born. He was the one who bolused me twice and sent the meds straight into my bloodstream rather in my spinal column. He was the one who assured me that I was not dying as I screamed obscenities during my seizures that day. I screamed about a million and one horrific and embarrassing things and two years later, he remembered EVERY single comment. Even the one where I told him I liked his hair and asked him to buy me an Infinity. Sheesh. Anyway, it sort of made me giggle that of the 90 anesthesiologists at Northside, I got him again. Bless him. He probably didn't like the liability that came with knocking me out, but this time it was smooth sailing.

We are heartbroken. Between the kudzu and the chemo and the long long road to getting pregnant, we are having to dig deep to find peace. The joy we've experienced over the past three months will always stay with us. Every single day, we praised him for this tiny miracle. Never once did we take it for granted or forget WHO blessed us with this gift.

But as the Bible and Michelle Duggar say, "The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. BLESSED BE THE NAME OF THE LORD".

Shawn McDonald reminds me: "Because He who is in me is greater than I will ever be, I will rise". So there ya go. I will rise. I will take my sassy butt to church and continue to praise Him.

Love y'all.

Feta Cheese and God's Grace

Remember yesterday when I talked about serving a mighty God? He reminded me of that today at 10:47am. Our sweet baby went to be with Jesus. Somewhere between the snot rockets, ugly cry, and ramblings of eating feta cheese and drinking Coca-Cola, God's grace swept right over that tiny exam room and covered me. In the midst of the chaos, there He was.

Chris was miles and miles away the day he got the news about Invasion Kudzu. He's in St. Louis this week; St. Lucas, as Coopie says. He's trying with all his might to fly standby home before they take the baby Friday morning. Please pray for him and the Delta pilot who I just know will get him home in time.

I wouldn't trade the joy we've experienced over the past 3 months for anything in the world.

I'm trying to be graceful, I really am. But I can't seem to find my big girl panties. I looked all over Target tonight for a new pair, even skipped the Target nachos and wandered aimlessly in circles pushing my red buggy full of paper towels and diapers. They were nowhere to be found. Instead I will cling to God's promise that He carries us in times like these.

Thank you all for covering us in prayer. We are humbled and love you all so much.