loss and longing

the 25th of this month is forever going to be a hard day for me. this year, the 25th would have marked the first birthday of the baby we lost in 2013. it was very early in the pregnancy--just 8 weeks--but the loss was palpable and still is very, very real. just as my pregnancies for both of my boys and their birth stories are etched down to the tiniest detail on my heart and in my mind, i still remember vividly every part of the process of knowing and losing corban. we hadn't really been trying to get pregnant (not at all like the process of conceiving for either of our sons). i had just weaned the oldest about a month prior and had just visited my doctor a few weeks prior to discuss what steps would be necessary if we struggled against the symptoms of pcos again when trying to conceive (<--ill save my story about living with pcos for another day). one morning, i was racing to get ready to meet a friend for a playdate, and just felt a wave of nausea. i didn't feel nauseous with my first baby, so i wasn't sure what i was feeling, but i took a test just to rule out the possibility of pregnancy. and sure enough, we were pregnant. what emotions swirled through my body that day! i was elated. i was in disbelief. i was so incredibly thankful to have easily conceived, especially after the 18 month struggle we endured the last time. i even planned a cute little surprise announcement for my husband. we were thrilled! fast forward about 3 weeks. i went in for my initial ultrasound. my doctor was so excited for us. he's also a believer and had walked through our difficult journey to conceive the first time. and then the world came to a halt. our sweet, sweet baby didn't have a heartbeat. everything measured exactly as it should for our baby for the number of weeks since conception. we had lost him or her within days--maybe hours--of that visit.
the next two weeks were agonizing as we waited for the process of miscarriage to be completed. we opted to let things happen naturally and i had the great privilege of being able to hold my sweet baby just once as my body released everything one evening two weeks later. we wanted to honor the dignity and personhood of this sweet, tiny life we were entrusted with for such a short time. we opted to have the baby cremated and a few months later scattered the ashes along the shores of lake michigan, a place that is near and dear to both of us. we also hiked up into the mountains here in north carolina and planted a tree to honor the short life of our child. we gave the baby the name "corban", which means, "a gift from god, returned back to god."
when the anniversary of our loss passed last summer, we were one month into life with our newest son. we were so graciously given another sweet baby just a few months after we said goodbye to corban. the sting of the loss was so real, even when i held my sweet new babe. his life would not have been, had we not lost corban. and i can't imagine my life without him now. but the agony of loss is still there. and as we approach the day that would have been the birthday of that child, i still wonder what things might have been different. i long to have known that child. it hurts to know that i will never know corban this side of heaven.
as i walk alongside other friends who struggle with infertility or who have known the agony of losing a child, i am still at a loss for how to find meaning in it. i know that god is good. i know that god is sovereign. but i struggle to see the good in friends losing their child at 26 weeks. they are still in agony a year later and have not found comfort or answers for their loss. i struggle to understand why friends have waited years--years--and still have yet to realize the joy of a baby of their own. when so many see unborn babies as disposable and inconvenient, why are there any mothers with empty, longing arms? what i know to be true in my heart regarding the goodness of the lord, i struggle to make sense of in my head. and simply accepting that i may not ever make peace with that is hard. as this birthday passes, i long that i would come to know and trust god's goodness in the hard edges of loss and longing.

i need some space

since having children, i have developed this strong need to protect my personal space. i don't know, maybe it has something to do with the fact that i always seem to have one or the other child glued to me. children don't understand or respect the need for space. take my toddler, for example. he is such a love, but oh my goodness he just doesn't understand why anyone wouldn't want to be half an inch from his face at any given time of the blessed day! his poor brother takes the brunt of this (but thankfully he's turning out to be quite the chunk, so he'll probably be able to set his own boundaries before long). for me, it doesn't quite matter which child needs more closeness on a given day. the fact that one or both seem to be totally dependent on the ability to have physical contact with me at all times is just draining. like it literally feels like they are sucking the physical and emotional life out of me when they have to be sitting right on top of me all the time. they're young (the baby is still very young). and of course i do realize that they are very much dependent on me for just about everything. but do they have to be touching me all...the...time??!! 
the point at which my tank hits empty and i just need to have a break from all the touching typically arrives around 7pm. convenient, considering that's when the baby goes to sleep and the toddler is soon to follow. not so convenient if you're my husband. (warning: mushy and maybe "too personal" details to follow). the person that seems to take the brunt of my new-found need for personal space is my baby daddy. it seems natural, considering he's the only person who truly can understand the words, "no", "not yet", and "not now". and, let's not forget how we got to this place to begin with (children don't just show up on your doorstep, after all). and i could go on and on about how postpartum hormone changes aren't helping, or that i still feel fat with baby weight, or that we should probably just sleep since we're sure to be up with both kids in the night. and all of those things would be so very true. but the thing that i've been challenged by lately, and the thing that i'm fighting against is that all of this is really just a heart issue. a friend once told us (in the years b.c.--before children), that you start to realize a little bit how selfish you are once you're married. suddenly, there's someone else to consider and you have to die to self in order to want and do what's best for the other. and then you have kids. and you realize you are still unbelievably selfish. that's where i'm at. i'm in this really hard place of realizing that i am just so selfish. i feel like i give and give and give all day. i'm a chef, a nurse, a teacher, a chauffeur, a referee, and much more. i cook and clean and kiss owies and keep these kids alive. after all that, i tell myself i deserve some space. i deserve to put my feet up and read a good book or treat myself to something sweet and enjoy some quiet time to myself. then i can go to bed and rest so i can get up and do it all over again tomorrow. but that order of things is so backwards. my marriage is first. even though my day-to-day is mainly consumed with caring for children, i am first a wife. then a mother. and at the very bottom of things is me. i'm not at all saying that i need to be totally neglected and my needs for rest and space and rejuvenation don't matter, so don't misinterpret the point. what i am saying is, i have been selfish. i have allowed all these excuses to creep in and create a wedge. i have placed myself at the top of the list and have given myself priority in having my needs met. then, i've allowed my children to take just about all that's left, leaving my husband with a few crumbs. and i see the results and where things could head. i can see the seeds of resentment or frustration and i know what can blossom from that. i know too many couples who have allowed this system to flourish in their homes and have watched things fall apart after their children are grown. and the opportunity to prevent that starts now. the passage in ephesians regarding husbands and wives is a beautiful command that i need to see in its entirety and hold true for my attitude regarding my need for space. i am to submit to my husband. this is not a servile submission but a coming under his authority as the head of our family. and the piece about husbands beautifully completes the picture in that my submission pairs with the love my husband has for me. he is to love me as himself, and nourish and cherish me. that includes caring for my needs for physical rest and rejuvenation. but we are best partners and companions and parents when both our needs are being met. when we both die to self to love one another better.
so i'm learning to hold less tightly to my need for personal space...