Happy 2014, y’all! (Hey, it’s still January… barely, but still…)
We all know how I struggle with consistency in my blog life. It’s always in the back of my mind, and someday I’ll get the hang of it. I thought I’d drop in and blab a bit about the goings on in our life. I really want to write about this “word of the year” trend, but I’m going to have to save it for next time. My heart is too heavy.
I haven’t blogged since we found out we were pregnant. That was last June. (YIKES!) So here we are, three weeks from baby’s birthday, and I am just… overwhelmed. I am overwhelmed with gratitude for a healthy pregnancy (praise Jesus!), overwhelmed with fear of the unknown in transitioning from a family of three to a family of four, overwhelmed with my to-do list and all the things I feel need done before our second little boy arrives, and overwhelmed with all of the emotions that January has brought.
Last week my dear, sweet grandmother took Jesus’s hand and followed Him home. I can’t express the grief I’ve felt in this process. This is the hardest loss I’ve ever experienced. She and my grandpa have lived about a mile from my parents for the majority of my life. They have been at every holiday, every birthday, every “just because we need a margarita” dinner… ever. Mema was an extension of my own mother. She and I had so much in common. She and I had a connection I don’t really have with anyone else. My family is amazing, and they’ve always been understanding and supportive of my struggles, but my Mema shared them with me. We both lived our lives with a ridiculous amount of anxiety that’s hard to explain to someone who hasn’t experienced it on this level. We both lost babies. We both needed a little extra love. And now she’s gone. I still don’t think it’s sunk in yet. I’m feeling so numb. She needed this. She fought SO hard for so long, and she earned this peace. But my heart is still so broken. It’s most broken for my mom. She’s been through so much, and I just want to scoop her up and tell her it’s all going to be okay. We’re all just hurting so bad.
One of the hardest things about losing Mema is how saddened we are about her not meeting our new baby. We were so close! I’ve been finding comfort in knowing that she went to heaven to check things out before he came to this world. She’s already met him. She’s snuggled him the way she snuggled his big brother and the way she snuggled me. She’s preparing him for us. And I’m grateful for that… I just wish I could see it. Take pictures of it. Cherish it. I’ve been joking with our family that Mema is up in heaven, bargaining with Jesus to change our boy to a girl. She wanted a girl so bad. If we’re in the small percentage of “incorrect ultrasounds” I’ll know it was her.
In all of my anxiety about adding a fourth to our little family, I will always remember Mema’s wisdom. I remember leaving her house after dinner one night a couple of months ago and telling her “I just don’t know how I’ll love another baby as much as I love Peyton.” Her wisdom was brief and brilliant. She said “they each come with their own love.” It was the last time I remember talking to her about something so personal and so raw. I’ll forever cherish that. She gave me so much hope and encouragement over the years, and I’ll keep it with me always.