God Gave Us You

So here it goes...I am writing. I decided to try this blogging thing. Writing has been very healing for me in the past, but I have kept my writing private. I decided to share some of my thoughts and happenings in my life with others. I am not sure if I will keep it up, but I will do it as long as I feel God is leading me to share.

Everyone has a story...so here is the beginning of mine. This Christmas I gave our precious little boy, Sean Isaac a book entitled, God Gave Us You, by Lisa Tawn Bergen. Just recently he started taking a very special interest in reading it. He loves books and always has. We have been reading together since before he was born. I had moved this book from his bookshelf in his room to his book basket in the living room. We spend the majority of our time in the living room. There are other books in the basket, but he kept looking at this one and bringing it to me to read, often many times throughout the day. It is a book about a bear family who anticipates the arrival of their little bear cub, repeating on each page that “God Gave Us You”. Near the end of the book Mama bear talks to her little bear cub about how before she was born they would go to the doctor and hear her heart beat. I took this as a “teachable moment” to tell Sean where his heart is and he quickly caught on that his heart was in his chest. When I ask him where his heart is, he puts his hand on his chest. A few days later I told him the sound his heart makes (at least tried). No surprise that he loved the beating sound Mommy was making. I couldn't help but shed a few tears while reading. Any parent knows the miracle of their baby's heartbeat - especially the first time they ever hear that beautiful sound. I proceeded to tell Sean how we listened to his heartbeat many times when he was in my belly and how we were always grateful and excited to hear that beautiful sound. So he patted his belly and then my belly.

I am reminded daily of the preciousness of life when I look at my growing and vibrant little boy and when my heart aches for those I still love and have gone before me. Life is a series of losses. I suppose it is all in how you look at it. You lose, but yet you always gain something from a loss. The human heart is precious from the first beat to the last. I am not sure you can truly grasp the miracle until you have seen someone who no longer has a beating heart or seen/heard that young heartbeat from the beginning of life.

The beginning of my life was a surprise. My mother went in for an ultrasound before a scheduled hysterectomy. Needless to say, the hysterectomy was canceled because there was life inside her...a beating heart...me. My parents were excited and scared. They had lost other children before me, through 1^st trimester miscarriages. My mother suffered many “female” and emotional problems that she battled throughout her life. Some of those problems were because of a violent rape she endured as a teenager. My mother wanted to be a mother more than anything, but one “female problem” preventing that from happening was polycystic ovarian syndrome. To put something rather technical and complicated more simply, her body would miscarry the babies, because she did not produce enough progesterone. I was born on the 11^th trip to the hospital after my mother received periodic doses of natural progesterone injections. This procedure was in the experimental stages. I was born a healthy little girl on October 5, 1981 to two very proud and loving parents. 

I have always been told I am loved and very special.  When you are told something like that it makes you feel special and very loved, but it also made me feel I had to do something special. Like God had destined me for something BIG. Sometimes it is hard to do something BIG when you lack the confidence. Insecurity and guilt are my life and I imagine much of that stems from the roller coaster of losses and gains throughout my 30 years on this earth. I don't mean to sound negative, but it is something I battle daily. I battle the memories...the painful memories that are always there. The memories I so wish I could erase. The memories that rocked the security I craved in my childhood. I often hate that I “feel” so much. I wish it didn't hurt, but it does. I have been told by numerous people that I am too sensitive, thin skinned, and often too serious. So, I often put up a wall to hide the pain and I don't cry much with others. I admire those who can truly “grin and bear it” and “just sweep it under the rug”. I admire those who can cry and let it out in front of anyone and be loved and accepted anyway or who really aren't bothered by what anyone else thinks. They are stronger than me. I cry and scream in private and do my best to “grin and bear it” on the outside. The more I lose the harder it becomes to trust....to trust my heart with others...to trust in God's plan for my life. I don't give up, because God has carried me this far in this broken world and I know he will never give up on me.  I am thankful my parents never failed to tell me, "God Gave us You".

I spend my days trying to provide my 16 month old little boy with security by being home with him, trying to be consistent and stable, being a wife to his daddy, and trying to do all that being a mommy entails. All the while trying to rely solely on the Lord's guidance, since my own mother isn't here to call. With the daily help of God I am trying to provide him with something I didn't always have, but trying to give him what I did have that was nurturing to my growth. It is the hardest and sometimes the loneliest job I have ever had, but this is what I believe God has called me to do at this time in my life. I wouldn't trade these precious days for anything. The opportunity to watch the miracle of his life unfold. Sometimes I still listen to his heart beating and remember how precious his life is...how his heart was beating when I was in labor (unlike his sister's) and how it still beats so strongly with every amazing breath God gives him. How his life is truly unique. Different from his sister's short life. How God is writing his story and what a privilege it is to be a part of it. Each day I come a little closer to understanding how much I love Sean and through that, just how much my God must love me...must love each one of us. In that, I discover the gain. Those empty holes in my heart are slowly being mended with the unconditional love of God. 


"Every night, I prayed for you, my special child. I prayed your bones would be straight and your heart would be strong. But most of all, I prayed that someday you would love God." "I love God," Little Cub said proudly. "I know," said Mama. "I do too." God Gave Us You, by: Lisa Tawn Bergen

 Our prayer for both of our precious children was and still is that they love God. We never knew our little girl would know God more than any of us.