tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64671443988802127072024-03-13T10:26:30.671-04:00{insert.clever.name.here.}Didgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07958691156172299912noreply@blogger.comBlogger154125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6467144398880212707.post-34484028282986808972013-07-08T10:02:00.000-04:002013-07-08T11:03:58.275-04:00From<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
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Josh and I are so excited and
surprised! We really thought we were having a boy. We are in no
way, at all, disappointed, just very surprised. I kept looking at him
through out the day saying “we're having a girl!?” We already
have a pretty solid idea of our girl's name, but it's not a sure
thing yet. We want to leave room for God to lead us if the name is
not the right one for her.
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She is so strong already! I thought
for weeks that I just was having some trouble with my stomach because
of a “popping” sensation I would get. Well, as I was having my
ultrasound, the tech looked at me and said “Do you feel her
kicking? 'Cause I sure do, so I know you have to be feeling those!”
I definitely was, and wouldn't you know, it was that not so subtle
popping feeling I had been having. It was amazing to watch her kick
on the screen and feel it at the same time. She has a good, strong
heartbeat and everything is right on target with her development.
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We went from the elation of hearing all
that good news to “there's something I do want to check on though.
You looked a little short in your cervix.”</div>
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<b>Say what. </b>
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No, you just told me everything looked
perfect.
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<u>I heard her heartbeat.</u>
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<i>She's perfect.</i>
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Nothing is wrong.</div>
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All those things are true... about her.
Not me.</div>
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I've been on bed rest since then with a
“incompetent cervix.” (Basically, my gate was looking like it
wanted to be open and given that I was 20 weeks, almost 21, at the
time, that's not good.) Thankfully, this is a condition they know
well and they have options for how to work with it.</div>
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That day turned whirlwind fast as they
looked then had me wait in the waiting area, I spoke to a couple
people and then went home unable to speak to the doctor because he
was in a procedure.</div>
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We were a bit messy, unsure how to
feel. We had just received some of the best news and some truly
frustrating news. I felt like a car window with my button in the
hands of a hyper 5 year old. You guys know what I'm talking about...
“updown..upppp, down, udowp!”
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We promised an announcement that
afternoon and people were chomping at the bit for it. And they were
right to. We had brilliantly, wonderful news! Fantastic! It's a
girl! Yay!</div>
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From happy to confused.</div>
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From elation to desperation.</div>
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From praise to petition.</div>
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Then back again.</div>
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And I had the words from the day before
ringing in my head. Now is when the choice came. What would I
choose? Would I praise?
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Yes. There is still so much good right
now. So much hope. Why would I despair? That won't help a thing.
It's like I told someone earlier, it would be easy to get mad at God.
It would be easy to say “seriously, why me?!” Do the hard thing.
Embrace the joy.
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There is a beautiful, healthy little
girl growing right now! I feel more and more connected with her
every day.</div>
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I write a journal to our little lady.
Now, I'm nearly as bad to write in that as I am to post a blog, but
I'm working on it!</div>
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I write to her, reminding her of how
important trust in Jesus is. Of how excited we are to see her when
the time is right. I tell her of the dreams I have for her. I try
to think of what I would want her to know as a young adult if say, I
hope this isn't the case, I am not there when she's a teenager, a
college student, a new wife, a new mom, or perhaps a person truly
meant for single life.
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These entries, these words on the pages
of notebook, are my connection to her.
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Be still my heart, I just realized how
like the Bible that is.
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Do not cry “blasphemy!”
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These are the things I want and need
her to know to know me. To know Jesus. To be able to hear my voice
when perhaps she can't audibly in the moment she reads it.
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They are my heart, from me to her. </div>
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::hums "with love, from me, to you..."::</div>
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{“From” is the second word in the
new three part blog title, that I promise! I promise is coming!<br />
Trust me. I
have nothing but time right now to work on it.<br />
Here's the link to the first part "<a href="http://blogject365.blogspot.com/2013/06/glitter.html">Glitter</a>"}</div>
Didgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07958691156172299912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6467144398880212707.post-6353766027268259052013-06-26T15:38:00.000-04:002013-06-26T15:53:13.189-04:00Glitter<span style="font-size: large;">Tomorrow is the big day. Its the day we get to see Baby E again and hopefully find out whether we are having a little boy or a little girl! It's so exciting!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">And a little bit terrifying.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Setting aside thoughts of "oh my word, I'm over half way there!" and "Dear Lord, am I ready to be a mom? Is Somewhere ready to be a dad? I guess we better be because it's happening, and it is good."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">As excited and nervous as I am, there is still a thought of a little fear. There is still that small part of my heart that no matter how hard I want to embrace this child and full heartedly enjoy this pregnancy, that small part still has a guard up, still has a ounce of fear of "be careful. What if you get all worked up and excited and tomorrow they say there is a problem, and all that joy becomes pain." </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">It sucks, don't even bother to pardon my 'French', it plain old sucks to feel that.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Today I put up a gender poll on Facebook. I'll admit, it was scary!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Someone asked for a baby bump picture to be able to make their prediction. I smiled at the clever ploy to get a bump pic and raced to the bathroom to get dressed for work and get make up on so I could take it. As I put on my make up, I wondered if this could be the last happy picture of me in this pregnancy.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Now before I go on with this seeming "diatribe", I am not dispondant about this baby. I have every hope and prayer that tomorrow will be a day of awesome excitement and rejoicing. I am posting this as an "encouragement" to other After Loss moms that they are not alone in these little doubts and it is okay and normal.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I had that thought, for that fleeting moment, and I said to myself "then embrace the joy today."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I enjoyed every second of that beautiful (huge feeling) baby bump. I did my hair and I did my make up with happiness at getting ready to share my delight over this body carrying life in it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">As I drove to work after sharing the picture, I thought about the moment of doubt and the embrace of joy. I realized it was a lesson I hope to carry everyday from now on. A lesson of not knowing what time you have left with anyone, be they close or the person buying coffee from you that day. You have that instant to give the belief that faith is not in vain, to impart hope, to sprinkle love. To find the glitter in the moment. To be the glitter. Embrace it.</span><br />
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<span class="versiontext"><a href="http://biblehub.com/esv/1_corinthians/13.htm">English Standard Version (©2001)</a></span><br />
"So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love."<br />
1 Cor. 13:13<br />
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<strong>And on that note, I give you the first word of the new blog name: "Glitter." The name has three parts and I am desperately trying to have it up by the first week of July. Be on the lookout for posts giving the next two parts!</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
Source: biblehub.comDidgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07958691156172299912noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6467144398880212707.post-58328010238299898082013-05-31T09:41:00.002-04:002013-05-31T09:49:05.827-04:00Bragging on SomewhereLast night, after a fun night of hanging out with some friends of ours, Somewhere and I got home about an hour after my normal... I would call it "bedtime" but its more closely akin to "Loss-of-any-power-in-the-'verse-to-stay-awake time." It doesn't matter if I'm on a couch or in the bed or car, I will fall asleep. When we were playing Halo with our friends I mentally had to will myself to stay awake with "you will not lay down... you WILL NOT lay down." I was supremely grateful when Somewhere, watching out for me despite my most valiant attempts to last, signaled we were headed home.<br />
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We got home and still had some tidying, which really means cleaning, to do before my brother (yay!) and one of my close friends (yayyay!) were planning to come in today. (They aren't coming together or anything, it just happened to be they would both be here.) It really was the plan for me to just sweep and Somewhere unload the dishwasher, which I abhor, and then go to bed.<br />
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I sat down for a moment to untie my shoes and say hello to my T-dog, who greets me like she will never see me again past this moment and figures I need a store up of her massive love. It's rather nice. Last night, though, she managed to bop her head, so gently, onto one of the "blemishes" on my chin. It stung, but more than that, it was the final straw. It hurt and gave a crack in a wall I didn't even know was there, built to contain the many emotions of this pregnant lady. I felt the tears rise up as I just couldn't deal anymore. I told T that I loved her but I needed space right now. (Really, it didn't hurt that bad!) I knew it was time to just cry, give into the emotions for a moment and cry them out. Yes, I'm that kind of woman.<br />
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I stood up and took two steps to Somewhere, tears just about to start brimming over, and hugged him. Perhaps grasped on and cling to him would be a closer image. Then I started to cry. <br />
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There has indeed been times when this would have been a little bit of a shock moment for him. He knows how to deal with "woman tears" but his response used to be to make me laugh, which I didn't mind at all, or to perhaps be a bit overwhelmed himself and just try to understand my confusing rants of emotional angst.<br />
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Not last night. He asked what was wrong as he held me. I sobbed about how tired I was and then just kept sobbing. He told me that was really okay, we've had an incredibly busy month for us. I simpered that I just needed a hug and his reply, "you can always come get one." *happysigh*<br />
I sat down and he called B-Boy over to give me a kiss. That dog gives awesome kisses.<br />
Somewhere waited and then gently asked if I was "just tired." I told him no. This was quite a bit of baby hormones, exhaustion, and just plain being overwhelmed. With everything. Which received a laugh filled series of questions that proved I wasn't exactly overwhelmed by everything. <br />
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He listened to the list of things that I was basically "done" over. We talked about them a little and I asked if it would be so bad if we just went to sleep. He asked if that's what I wanted and when I agreed it was, he said he had been thinking about taking a nap anyway. (We'll talk about his sleep habits perhaps in another post. They are... different.) I was still teary when we started getting into bed. I smiled and said "okay, it's almost over." I then apologized for crying, admitting that it was probably a frustrating, startling or scary moment when I did. He told me it wasn't. I asked if it was confusing. He said no. I then asked what it was. He replied that it was just something that would happen. It just was.<br />
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You are probably wondering the point of this post. <br />
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It's my post of gratitude to be blessed with a spouse who is there. This isn't to point out the ones that aren't there or anything like that. I am just so blessed by the love and acceptance he shows.<br />
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He has been there for me through so, so much. He strives to be a provider and leader for our home. He learns the complex lesson of what makes a Me tick better every single day. I've watched him grow more protective, especially since see the baby bump forming. He guards me. He protects. He shelters.<br />
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Do we ever have our bad days? Of course we do. We both have moments of wondering if the other person knows us at all. We don't always protect.<br />
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But in the end, he is my teammate. We will always look out for each other.<br />
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I love him.</div>
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Side note:<br />
For a great post on love, check out sarah at <a href="http://myshadygrove.blogspot.com/2013/04/a-people-in-constant-motion-yet-unmoved.html">My Shady Grove</a>.Didgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07958691156172299912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6467144398880212707.post-31626364828746521542013-05-16T17:33:00.003-04:002013-05-16T17:33:48.942-04:00Heartbeats (This may be updated later.)Heartbeats are an incredibly important thing to me, aside from the fact of how mine helps keep me alive.<br />
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I didn't realize that I loved the sound of a heartbeat until I met Somewhere.<br />
See, this may be hard to believe, considering my cold exterior, but I can be so sappy and a bit of the romantic.<br />
-Who are we kidding, I cry at Britain's Got Talent auditions.-<br />
Anyhow, I used to tell him that I missed my heartbeat. I then explained that since I had given him my heart, he now held my heartbeat in his chest. I know, cheesy. After our time apart when he was at school or in NC, I would lay my head against his chest whenever we would reunite and just listen to his steady heartbeat.<br />
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Then with the Sweethearts, I lay on a table and listened, with all of my might, for the sound of life from the Doppler. I didn't know all I would ever hear was the sound of silence. I'm at peace with that now.<br />
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I waited again, in April, to hear that sound from the ultrasound machine. It was the most glorious sound I think I've ever heard, that fast "thump-thump" that filled the room. Every time I get nervous or have a rough day, it's all I can do to stop myself from plunking down LARGE amount of cash needed to rent a personal Doppler. I take a bath and lay submerged, just wanting to hear something or feel a movement. (I haven't yet, but one day I will.)<br />
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I can't help but correlate that with my walk with God. I'm not the person who daily remembers to read their Bible and spend time in devotions. I've typed before about my many failings. As the day gets closer and closer though that Somewhere and I will become the most frequent view of Jesus Baby E has, my heart draws closer to God.<br />
Here I am, about to be a mom. It's so scary. I've felt so far off path before, and still do sometimes. Some days get scary and I suddenly hear the silence.<br />
I realize I want, I need, to hear His heartbeat and feel Him move stronger than I have before, more urgently.<br />
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Then He fills the room. <br />
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And it is mystical.Didgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07958691156172299912noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6467144398880212707.post-53814914110164009452013-04-30T11:49:00.001-04:002013-04-30T11:49:22.311-04:00Hullo, hullo, hullo!We are safely moved and settled into our new awesome town.<br />
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Unfortunately, I do not have internet at home, because the internet companies say it will be 20 years until we can. Truly. 20 years. -_-<br />
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Therefore, that has made getting the new site design up difficult, even with a web developer for a husband.<br />
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It will be up as soon as we can get it up, but for now, I'm just offline. I thought about trying to blog from my phone all the time, but that would get tedious quickly.<br />
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In more exciting news, which has no bearing on the new name when it is announced, Somewhere and I are expecting again!<br />
Nov. 9th is our due date. :)<br />
We are super excited and have already heard a strong little heartbeat fill a room. <br />
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Okay, you are now all up to date and I am off to work. Until internet arrives in my area, I'll simply continue to only post occasionally from the library.<br />
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Thanks and have an awesome, blessed day!<br />
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DidgeDidgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07958691156172299912noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6467144398880212707.post-45016177315485665892012-12-24T11:29:00.000-05:002012-12-24T11:29:04.749-05:00*Break Pause*<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I wish I had the right words to say to those who are hurting this holiday. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>How do you comfort, when the heart is peacefully hurting?</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I don't think things like "I'm supposed to be big and round right now." I don't think things like "all I want for Christmas is to be pregnant." I would love to still be pregnant, but, I am at peace that it is not to be right now. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">To those who have had a love one leave this year, I'm so sorry. This is such a time of joy and tears, as happiness and smiles fill the air, outlining the ones that aren't there.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">All I hear in my mind is this:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">"Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from </span><sup class="crossreference" style="background-color: white; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30267B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)"></sup><span style="background-color: white;">the Father of lights </span><sup class="crossreference" style="background-color: white; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-30267C" title="See cross-reference C">C</a>)"></sup><span style="background-color: white;">with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">James 1:7</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He does not change. He is not a good God one day and an apathetic God the next. He is God and He is Good.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
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<h1 class="quoteText" style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-weight: normal; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px 0px 15px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">“Aslan is a lion- the Lion, the great Lion." "Ooh" said Susan. "I'd thought he was a man. Is he-quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion"..."Safe?" said Mr Beaver ..."Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you.”</span></h1>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He's good. He's the King.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=James+1%3A17&version=ESV">Verse Source</a> </span><br />
<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/quotes/344456-aslan-is-a-lion--the-lion-the-great-lion-ooh"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Quote Source</span></a>Didgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07958691156172299912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6467144398880212707.post-24387036120512309122012-12-23T22:02:00.000-05:002012-12-23T22:02:20.007-05:00Move South, Young Ma'am!<div style="text-align: center;">
Guess what?</div>
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Somewhere and Didge are moving.</div>
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We're moving to a new-to-us town about an hour and a half away.</div>
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We covet prayers of provision and guidance as we follow</div>
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our hearts promptings.</div>
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Sad side:</div>
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I will be breaking from blogging til the first of the year.</div>
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Have a safe and happy Christmas!</div>
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P.s.</div>
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Be looking for the new blog name and look in Jan/Feb.</div>
Didgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07958691156172299912noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6467144398880212707.post-71457876986264679662012-12-01T02:05:00.000-05:002012-12-01T11:50:58.672-05:00My Hearts - ExplainedI was looking through my saved/locked texts. Yeah, my phone is that old that I have to lock text so I don't lose them when I frequently have to clear my inbox. I had a text I saved from my brother. Now he's the Costume Design Head (? Not sure his title) at his alma mater's theater department. You need the context.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">"Do you have the ability to measure a few parts of yourself right now?"</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">He was really just </span>referring<span style="font-family: inherit;"> to the ability to take physical measurements. Given the timing, this was a mere two days after I got home from the hospital, I instantly was hit by the wording. That was one of the exact questions I had been asking myself. And then, the answer was no. Now I'm more prepared.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I've been thinking a lot about what I want in life. What are some of the desires of my heart?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">My mine desire is to glorify God. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I believe God give us tons of other desires though, and those desires lead to the culmination of that most important of desires.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm going to kind of delve into my heart... and just like the sweethearts have a room, my different loves have different rooms in my heart. I shall from now on refer to them as my hearts. It's just simpler for me that way. I feel the need to measure a few parts and find what makes up the whole.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I hope you'll join me.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">:)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Gifts I've Been Given: </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">#1: Words.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
Didgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07958691156172299912noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6467144398880212707.post-79517339630814037632012-11-29T11:58:00.000-05:002012-11-29T12:00:35.640-05:00Question?I'm formulating a goal/plan/schedule for how often I post.<br />
<br />
Therefore, dear readers, here is my question:<br />
<br />
<b>Would you mind to take a minute to comment, either on here or Facebook?</b><br />
<br />
Yes?<br />
Great! Thank you.<br />
Second question, if I may.<br />
<br />
<b>How often would you like me to update?</b><br />
To me, I get bogged down when someone posts daily. <br />
It's a lot to keep up with. I know it only takes minutes to read a post, but, let's be honest, we are really picky about how long we're willing to spend on stuff these days.<br />
But. This isn't about me... sorta.<br />
How often do you like to read blogs?<br />
Let me know... please.<br />
<br />
Thank you!Didgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07958691156172299912noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6467144398880212707.post-32050272839928365062012-11-29T11:52:00.001-05:002012-11-29T12:01:50.419-05:00my hearts - homeI have been thinking about being settled lately. <br />
<br />
I moved houses a good few times as a child. I didn't mind though. Each brought a new adventure and new friends. I have a fond spot for each home in my mind. And that's just what they were, home. My mom was a master of making a place home. I never really thought about that before. She was so gifted in bringing our family's aura/essence into our new quarters. I never felt not at home. Never.<br />
<br />
That is a gift I'm working on... can you work on a gift? I suppose you can. I'm working on what makes home and what makes us. By working, I don't just mean hanging up pictures (this is the first house I've done that in.) I mean I've been mulling it over in my mind.<br />
<br />
Somewhere and I have moved a grand total of four times in our four years of marriage. Each house felt more like home than the last. That said, I haven't learned how to pack up, and then unpack, "home." That thing that makes it where no longer how long you live there or what the dwelling looks like, it is home. My heart has been seeking home. It wants to sink into it like a warm down comforter, like the perfect garden hide away, the tinkle of wind chimes. It wants to settle in. I want to settle in.<br />
<br />
End of part one of the My Hearts Series.<br />
<br />
<b><i>Please take a minute to answer the Question by clicking here: <a href="http://blogject365.blogspot.com/2012/11/question.html">Of course, I would love to!</a></i></b>Didgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07958691156172299912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6467144398880212707.post-77667863862428628372012-11-21T23:11:00.001-05:002012-11-22T00:54:56.995-05:00.A day for magic. (Partially written two days ago.)Today is one of those days where you're just a bit bored of it all.<br />
<br />
I went over to my grandparents this morning, just hanging out and working around the house. I came home and I wanted to play DA2, but, the Xbox was occupied. Thus, I did what any sane person would do. I cleaned the living room and organized all my magazines. Doesn't everyone do that when they can't play?<br />
Now I'm just bored.<br />
<br />
I'd love a day without all the things only adults worry about. I'm disenchanted with dealing with bills, cleaning, silly humans, jealousy (on my part), clocks, mirrors, and responsibilities of really any kind. Is anyone really enchanted with any of that? Well no, but that's not my point.<br />
<br />
It's a day I wish my vices weren't just that, vices.<br />
I'm in the mood for copious amounts of sugar, dark, dark chocolate, whiskey (let's not get into everyone's views on alcohol), and smoking under comfy blankets on the back porch. <br />
Again, I merely said I'm in the mood for those. All of those are vices of mine, things I desire. Okay, dark chocolate isn't a vice, but it went with the rest.<br />
<br />
More than anything, I simply want to be carefree for a while. That's not really a bad thing.<br />
The problem is when, as I used to be, I go to those things for comfort when they don't offer lasting comfort. They don't fix problems long-term, in fact, a couple, (sugar, my face is looking at you) cause more problems then they are worth.<br />
<br />
This isn't really a profound post. Just thinking out loud. The obvious profound message would be about Christ being the fulfillment of all our desires. That is true. As C.S. Lewis puts it:<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">“If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.”― </span><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1069006.C_S_Lewis" style="color: #666600; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-decoration: none;">C.S. Lewis</a><br />
<br />
(2 days later)<br />
<br />
I was in fact talking to a friend about the above tonight. How just a few months ago, I went through the lesson of God being my number one source of satisfaction for my desire for love. He, before all, including Somewhere, is my source of that need-meet.<br />
<br />
I feel like I candy-coat my faith. I hope I convey that these lessons were not easy. They included heartbreak, tears, angry yelling in prayer, not really at God but just at it all, and much pain. I don't skip through life, giggling at butterflies and la-di-dahing how awesome my Savior is. This faith of mine is hard-fought, fraught with my failures, dirty, real and alive. It is God come to Earth. It is Heaven in dust. It is glorious.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Didgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07958691156172299912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6467144398880212707.post-77200759466569744232012-11-19T00:45:00.000-05:002012-11-19T00:52:27.122-05:00thief.This week was emotional. I had been nice and mellow for a while and this week was not mellow. :) I could cry at the drop of a hat over anything. Honestly. I dropped a hat and cried. Okay, not really. So not honestly.<br />
<br />
It was only makeup that saved me from being a blubbering mess at the Thanksgiving dinner. I'm really hesitant to write this part because of the effect it might have on people around me. As in, on them being around me.<br />
<br />
Tonight, I found out someone is pregnant. I am good friends with this person so I was thrilled for them. I really, truly, madly, deeply was.<br />
<br />
I also wanted to cry though. <br />
I've been good with announcements until this week. This week, they have brought tears to my eyes. It's one of the side effects of pregnancy loss. (While I don't believe I 'lost', this is the title people relate with the most.) Thankfully, I had done some intense eye makeup and I could hold it together thinking "well, you don't want to be a runny mess, O dummy of Not Wearing Waterproof." Sounds shallow, I know, who would place vanity against mourning pain, but, sometimes you do what you have to do.<br />
<br />
I remember being on the other side of it. I remember not knowing how the news of my pregnancy would affect (or effect? I still don't understand the correct usage) my friends who had gone through miscarriage or infertility. I wanted to share my joy and, at the same time, not add pain. It's such a tricky, tricky balance. <br />
<br />
It seems so selfish too. How dare my pain diminish your joy. Please don't view it like that.<br />
<br />
You see, it was the taking of joy that broke my heart over and over and over and over again through this. One of my main thoughts at the beginning of miscarrying after thoughts of Somewhere were "how can I tell my mom? How can I take this from her?" I felt like a joy thief. I felt like I was ripping away something precious and beautiful. I was a destroyer.<br />
<br />
I know it wasn't me. If I had a choice, I wouldn't. That isn't how it feels though.<br />
<br />
The thing that kills me the most, that cuts my heart to shreds is remembering the joy.<br />
My mother's happy screams at the news, my grandfather musing on "having a baby around the house again," my sweet young friend who would talk to Fruit Loop every time she saw me, and had told her parents she was going to be an aunt. (She quickly had to clarify she wasn't saying one of her sisters were pregnant.) All I could think sometimes was "I'm so sorry for your loss. I'm so, so sorry."<br />
<br />
There isn't words for being the carrier of such a knife.<br />
<br />
The happiness from others gets replaced with awkwardness, sadness and worst of all, fear.<br />
I feel like a death omen. Like everything a pregnant woman wouldn't want to think about. That is a hard thing, I mean my name literally means joy. So many people call me "Joyful" as a nickname.<br />
<br />
And that is what I am. My joy doesn't come only from happiness. It is from contentment and peace in knowing my Savior. To be known. I may be sad, but, my joy is not gone. My youngest brother reminded me, when talking about how an artist had sign something to a fan, loosely quoting here: "Life [really] sucks right now. But John 10:10."<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
"the thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. i come that they may have life and have it adundantly." </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
{john 10:10 esv}</div>
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<br /></div>
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I am a follower of the God whose goal is life and life abundant. I cling to that.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Therefore, while I totally understand the awkwardness, please don't be afraid of your joy. Don't block us out of the joy out of fear. I may cry, but know, it will not be tears of pain alone. It will be tears of great rejoicing. I don't want to be the taker of joy anymore.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I love your joy.</div>
<div class="heading passage-class-0" style="background-color: white; color: #5c1101; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 10px;">
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<br />Didgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07958691156172299912noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6467144398880212707.post-66379499127614314282012-11-15T13:36:00.000-05:002012-11-19T01:31:14.242-05:00Fight OnYou know, I thought about titling this post "Stand" because that will be the end point but the thought that's been in my head is "Fight on, keep fighting, what is your other option? Give in and give up? No. Fight on."<br />
<br />
Life is what it is. I don't think it in itself is either hard or easy. It's all part of where you are. It's part of your journey so why worry which difficulty level it is set on. I've been a bit under the weather and I've been playing Dragon Age 2 while I rested. It's my first RPG. I really do love playing it. That, however, is not my point.<br />
<br />
Sometimes, I have to step back if a really hard level has just beaten me over and over again. Ironically, that is where my life is right now. You take down one thing and a bigger beast steps up. It can get tiring and overwhelming. After each battle, you take a step and regroup and pick up the goods and go on. Some days though, in life, it doesn't seem like there is much stop. One bill gets paid and you get the call about the next. You get a victory in one area, just to uncover a greater one elsewhere. It's exhausting emotionally and spiritually.<br />
<br />
Lately though, I just keep saying, "Keep on. You will make it out. Keep pushing, keep fighting."<br />
<br />
I've never been good at that. Seeing things through to the end, fighting for the success. <br />
<br />
The thing is, I can't win. Not by myself. I can't face all life throws at me. My devo has been reminding me every day to refocus on Christ. In the moments when life is too much, talk to Him, about the problem or not, and it will push that problem to the back in importance. He can handle it. He can give you the words to say, the strength to hold strong and the arms to hold you. He is strong and mighty. There is no one who loves me as He does. (That's a post for another day.)<br />
<br />
All He asks over and over in scripture is that we obey, love and stand.<br />
<br />
So stand, and in doing so, Fight On.<br />
<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<img alt="Pinned Image" height="320" id="pinCloseupImage" src="http://media-cache-ec4.pinterest.com/upload/202099101997785741_L2fQbImH_c.jpg" width="214" /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://pinterest.com/pin/274649277246894692/">Source</a></div>
Didgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07958691156172299912noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6467144398880212707.post-50539811219166415012012-11-12T00:11:00.000-05:002012-11-19T01:31:50.005-05:00Baby BloggerI feel like I am such a baby blogger. Not in the fact of I blog about babies, just in that I am so young feeling to it all.<br />
<br />
I would be lying if I said I don't want to become a successful blogger.<br />
I thrive off comments and views.<br />
That's the trashy truth. <br />
I can get where I check in too many times a day to see if people read. You might wonder why I would share such a thing. Of course everyone wants their blog to be successful. That's part of why you do this. You want others to see your heart.<br />
<br />
It's a hard thing. Its hard to constantly weigh your desire to reach out to others, to have them see your heart and feel your love, against a feeling of "am I doing this out of pride?" I never, ever want to use What Happened as a way to get views. That is NEVER the case. I respect my sweethearts far too much for that.<br />
<br />
I truly feel God calling me to be a voice to women (and men) who go through pregnancy loss, even this early in my own grief. <br />
I was asked at a ladies' retreat to give my testimony, and I knew in my heart that it needed to be on what happened. I didn't want to. Just because I'm a talker (I found out I'm a Sanguine personality... we're not happy unless we're talking) that doesn't mean I like sharing emotions. I hate crying in front of others. It's so naked feeling. I would rather talk about awkward stuff, something dumb I did, anything! Anything! Anything but to share where I feel broken.<br />
In my begging God to let me out of it, He spoke to my heart: "I didn't do this to a Sanguine so she'd keep quiet."<br />
For some reason I feel an extreme need/drive/desire to speak out. It's more than speak. Its that my words could carry my heart and envelope other peoples' hearts with the knowledge that someone else has been on a similar (but not identical) road and is there.<br />
<br />
All that said, this isn't all I am. <br />
This is not the extent of my being.<br />
I want to be able to continue blogging for a while. Sometimes about What Happened and other times just about whatever else is making up Didge that day.<br />
<br />
On a side note: Be watching for the blog upgrade. I have chosen a name. :)<br />
<br />Didgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07958691156172299912noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6467144398880212707.post-46295930355498615882012-11-09T18:41:00.002-05:002012-11-19T01:32:34.437-05:00Okay.I've been missing from here for a while. I had a ladies' retreat last weekend and it just knocked me on my be-hind (because I need you to say it that way in your mind.) I have since managed to join a lovely sore throat and stuffed up nose to this being of mine. They are welcome to leave any day now.<br />
<br />
I've also been pretty okay lately.<br />
<br />
Today is 6 weeks. It hardly seems possible that it has been that long. I haven't broken down crying (except during the ladies' retreat) in a week. There is nothing at all wrong with crying, I have embraced that release, I simply haven't. I've thought about it. I've thought about many things that should have made me cry, but nope, not a tear. <br />
<br />
I think in part it's because I know it won't change anything. I still miss those sweethearts. I still mourn. I just know that dwelling more than I need to isn't going to change anything. I can't live in that moment. There isn't life in the past. To me, a big part of life is the unexplained and unexpected. That doesn't exist in the past.<br />
<br />
I don't know how to best put it in words. I feel like all that was very jumbled. The basic: I've been gaining some closure.<br />
A friend recently asked, after me reassuring him twice that I meant it when I said I was really doing well, how long it took me to get over it. I told him I would never really be "over it" but that doesn't mean I'm not okay. <br />
I have found so much good in this, a couple new roles, and I have peace and so therefore I'm really okay.<br />
<br />
I'm okay.Didgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07958691156172299912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6467144398880212707.post-17459999082445813512012-10-29T23:08:00.002-04:002012-11-19T01:33:25.479-05:00The RoomI've been thinking a lot about my heart. <br />
<br />
This past week I've been really busy, with work and art for a ladies retreat. I have had gloriously messy hands at least three times. That is a good, good things. Put a messy medium in my hands and let me create and I'm happy. Remind me to tell you about my daydreams.<br />
<br />
Since my time has been so full, I haven't had as much time to think about anything else, including the sweethearts. I was musing on that fact the other day and I was struck with a visual.<br />
<br />
Picture my heart as a house. When I found out I was pregnant, my heart was full. Sunshine and laughter filled every corner. It was like sitting outside, soft, warm summer sunshine bathing in the green of the leaves on trees surrounding you. It was magical. Every one of those special "momma smiles" seem to hang on the walls, like so many portraits. Friends and family are welcomed in, each leaving a note or present. Even so, there is really only your husband and you and them. You hold them, dance with them and try not to fear over what you will never be able to control.<br />
<br />
And then it's different. The rooms get grey-ier. All hope isn't gone, the colors just change. Laughter drifts out. You find fingerprints on windows, but can't find the hands. Its like when you walk in a room that was filled with people and now is suddenly empty and you laugh nervously, wondering what the joke is and when everyone will come pouring back in.<br />
<br />
That all slowly changes. The glitter returns. You feel the absence, but it's not as strong. You look around and notice a room. Somehow, at some point, you've moved them there.<br />
<br />
I can't pinpoint when it happened. <br />
<br />
I can still walk in the room and catch a whiff of sunshine, a touch of warmth. There's a blanket, giggling and Amelia Bedelia books. It's just now, they are in there for the most part, where I can visit without being overwhelmed.<br />
<br />
I'll still step on the emotional lego from time to time. That's okay though. Just because it hurts, that doesn't mean it's bad.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Didgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07958691156172299912noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6467144398880212707.post-20248555265898348242012-10-19T20:23:00.000-04:002012-11-19T01:33:52.108-05:00His Words<span style="background-color: #fce5cd; color: #333333; font-family: Copse; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;">Thursday morning, there was a new comment on my <a href="http://blogject365.blogspot.com/2012/10/a-long-goodbye.html">"A Long Goodbye"</a> post. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fce5cd; color: #333333; font-family: Copse; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: #fce5cd; color: #333333; font-family: Copse; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;">Somewhere doesn't really read my blog. I knew he definitely hadn't since all this happened. I was totally okay with this. This is my outlet, my way to process life. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fce5cd; color: #333333; font-family: Copse; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Copse;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">Thursday, though, he did. He woke me up at 5 AM to let me read this comment. </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Copse;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;">I felt I should share it. I don't have a good segue. I asked him before I shared this. 3 weeks later, this is my husband's thoughts. (He may actually write a "guest post" for me soon.)</span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #fce5cd; color: #333333; font-family: Copse; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: #fce5cd; color: #333333; font-family: Copse; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;">I finally had the thought "I think I can read this now". And I have at 5am before going to sleep. And have cried. And wished. And hoped. But mostly cried. I didn't realize how hurt I still am. I've been trying not to think about it all too much. I've been distracting myself with tv, video games, web coding, and prop fabrication. Because of that, I couldn't see that I really haven't dealt with much at all.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fce5cd;"><br style="color: #333333; font-family: Copse; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;" /></span>
<span style="background-color: #fce5cd; color: #333333; font-family: Copse; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;">It still sucks. Bad.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fce5cd;"><br style="color: #333333; font-family: Copse; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;" /></span>
<span style="background-color: #fce5cd; color: #333333; font-family: Copse; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;">We will get through, but it still hurts. I am glad for our close family and friends... and our two wonderful/annoying dogs. They have helped so much.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fce5cd;"><br style="color: #333333; font-family: Copse; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;" /></span>
<span style="background-color: #fce5cd; color: #333333; font-family: Copse; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;">Someday (hopefully soon) we can become ready to have children. My heart hurts not being able to share Star Wars and magic tricks with these. To see their faces light up when a quarter disappears and comes out of their ear. To hear them say, "Do it again daddy!" To see their faces when they find out that Darth Vader is Luke's father. I will get to share this with others, but not these.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fce5cd;"><br style="color: #333333; font-family: Copse; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;" /></span>
<span style="background-color: #fce5cd; color: #333333; font-family: Copse; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;">Someday.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fce5cd;"><br style="color: #333333; font-family: Copse; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;" /></span>
<span style="background-color: #fce5cd; color: #333333; font-family: Copse; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;">-Somewhere</span>Didgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07958691156172299912noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6467144398880212707.post-16360797812027903642012-10-18T22:50:00.000-04:002012-11-19T01:34:44.865-05:00You Gave Up Everything<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>River</b>: I remember everything. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I remember too much. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And some of it's made up, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and some of it can't be quantified, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and there's secrets, and...</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Simon</b>: Hey, i-it's okay. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>River</b>: But, I understand. You gave up everything you had to find me. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
You found me broken. It's hard for you. You gave up everything you had. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Simon</b>: Mei-mei, everything I have is right here. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
You know, you can argue with me about how Jesus came for God's glory to be made great. He did. This is truth. You can talk me to death about theology. I find it has a place and I am not shooshooing it. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
There is something in this quote that screams Jesus to me ever since I was reminded of it the other day. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
He gave up his heavenly throne to walk the earth, God in dust, and instead picked up tools, bread and wooden death. He did so much and when he found me, He found me, us, broken. So broken. He found His Beloved, His Bride. She is broken, bruise and beaten down. I've pictured it before, can I even look in his eyes? Me, who ran away as I was born. Can I even meet his eyes or do I look at them in blatant arrogance. No, it is shame. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
And He found me beautiful.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
<br />
Just a thought. </div>
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<br /></div>
Didgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07958691156172299912noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6467144398880212707.post-69886026110483334262012-10-18T01:55:00.002-04:002012-10-18T02:06:00.815-04:00HonestlyToday and yesterday have been rough days.<br />
<br />
I hate admitting the bad days. I feel like I feel the thoughts of the people reading or hearing this. That they think "Oh finally. See, she's not okay. She's finally cracking. I knew she couldn't be handling this as well as she claims."<br />
I said I would blog this journey honestly. I won't sugar coat the bad days and pretend they don't happen. I want this to be a blog that could one day perhaps help someone through this. Making it seem like I never related to the bad moment isn't a way to do that. I've never lied. I've never pretended. For the most part, considering it's almost at three weeks since home, I'm doing fairly well. I think. I honestly have felt really strong peace. I have strength in me I didn't know was there. I am "olden-ed" by this. <br />
<br />
For me, this is what a bad day is:<br />
I am tired, all the time.<br />
Anything or nothing can send me to tears.<br />
Praying to not have to say goodbye again anytime soon. <br />
I am snappy. <br />
I just want to have an excuse to punch someone. <br />
I also want to just live in Somewhere's arms.<br />
I don't want to talk or text.<br />
<br />
I was analyzing it to Somewhere earlier. I think my mind and heart have just reach the point where they say, that's it. We've held back what we can. We'll hold what we have, but, we can't do a lot more than that right now. It's keeping your heart together is as much as you can do. Dealing socially with people is a bit more mental taxation than you have in you at the moment. I have had a harder time the past two days dealing with others' problems or even jokes. I just can't. deal. Not right now.<br />
<br />
I feel like admitting this is going to send you guys running for a label. I'm not headed for depression. Physically, my hormones are trying to level. My heart is trying to level.<br />
<br />
I want to curl in Somewhere's arms.<br />
I want to sleep.<br />
I want to watch stars.<br />
I want a campfire on a beach.<br />
I want to be alone (with Somewhere) and get away. <br />
I want to lose myself in music that lets me mourn. <br />
I want to let myself hurt.<br />
I want to melt and pour out. <br />
<br />
Life calls though. It asks me not to slip too far away. It wants me to work. It wants me to be human. It reminds me to stay just busy enough.<br />
<br />
Don't be scared for me. I will be me again. I'll be a different me. I will heal, with a beautiful scar to remind me that there is a plan I can't see.<br />
<br />
I just have to go through a bad day or two.<br />
I will make it through this. <br />
As a friend reminded me, it's not about the destination, it's about the journey.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: start;"> <b>Capt. Mal:</b> You think she'll hold together? </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: start;"><b>Zoe: </b>She's torn up plenty, but she'll fly true. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: start;"> <b>Capt. Mal: </b>Could be bumpy. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: start;">: <b>Zoe: </b>Always is. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-align: start;">"<b><i>Serenity</i></b>" 2005</span></div>
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<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Didgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07958691156172299912noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6467144398880212707.post-5689048376731059492012-10-14T14:39:00.001-04:002012-10-18T00:56:08.401-04:00Yesterday's Memory<div style="text-align: center;">
featuring:</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
pink and grey--<br />
a discovery--crying--proof</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
shiny mail--sunshine--tinted nails</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
quiet--star wars</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
a man and two dogs</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I've been reading the book "The Book Thief", as I mentioned two days ago. Each chapter starts in the above format. It's so interesting because it gives you something to piece together, words to look for. Like pink and grey, in the story, would be eloquently (one of my favorite words) pieced into a story of me, busily cleaning the pantry, drinking morning coffee. I never have been one to wake up and drink coffee. That has changed. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
<b>pink and grey.</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I was gifted a Keurig by a dear sweet friend in NC the Saturday before all went upside down. I have to admit, I love it. There is so little clean up. I'm a lazy coffee drinker, unless I'm in the mood for the motions of coffee making, I hate all the steps and the clean up. Its the total truth. There is one of my flaws. I'm a lazy coffee drinker. Thus. The Keurig is perfect for a first-world person like myself. I got up yesterday with the strangest urge to just go make a coffee, sit quietly and dwell. I made the coffee. That part of the plan happened. Then I was suddenly hit with the desire to clean the pantry. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I went in to try the Pinterest idea of using a soda can box as a way to store canned goods. (It would work with Campbell's soup cans, but, not veggie cans.)<br />
After that fatal step, I couldn't stop tidying it! I was just cleaning because I simply had to clean.<br />
I am not the cleanest person in the world, that said, sometimes I just have to clean.<br />
I took the computer into the pantry and turned on the new P!nk album on Spotify. There may have been booty dancing while I cleaned. The pantry now looks awesome, as does the laundry room.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
That story, is not where pink and grey come in. <br />
They come in as the cover and the holder of my little book. The shield for the Kindle, which has not yet been named, is hot pink. <br />
Would I ever in my life pick up a hot pink cover?<br />
No. I would not.<br />
Thus I am so glad I did not purchase this cover, because I adore it's pinkness. I wouldn't get that joy if I had gotten it. My Kindle, the book holder, is grey. Not quite so eloquent, eh?</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Goodness, I have signed up for a lot of words.<br />
<br />
<b>a discovery.</b><br />
When you go to the health department to have a pregnancy test, they give you the test in a sealed bag, if you want. It's not gross or anything. Well, I kept mine, of all places, in a cabinet in the laundry room. The laundry room that I was cleaning yesterday. When I went to put away some rags, there it was. A little orange striped bag containing a small white rectangle. I took it, and threw it in the trash.<br />
<br />
<b>crying.</b><br />
As you can imagine, that sparked a moment of raw emotion. I remembered the joy, the moment I was told that the home test wasn't wrong, I really was pregnant. My mom was with me. Oh how many steps she's taken with me.<br />
Now, that object didn't bring joy.<br />
<br />
<b>proof.</b><br />
In a startling thought, I realized I had just thrown away my last proof, other than a piece of paper, that I had in fact been pregnant. I couldn't do it. I needed it. I needed that proof. I dug it out of the trash, and placed it back in the cabinet. I will figure out the next step later.<br />
<br />
<b>shiny mail.</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
A sweet, sweet old friend of mine, who I actually met online and then had as a bridesmaid in our wedding, sent me an adorable Firefly sticker. It will go on the case of my phone whenever I get an iPhone again. Until then, it will keep me company here at my desk. I'll add a picture and you'll see why it's shiny. Or maybe you already get it if you are a Browncoat. I love it and it gives me happy sighs.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>sunshine.</b><br />
Due to needing to leave the house for a little while, we went to town and purchased some foods for dinner. Which we ate in a church parking lot, then sat, dogs in back, and read or played. The sun was brilliant yesterday. As usual. Heh. We just could see it well. <br />
Autumn has hit with a delicate, cold kiss. The leaves are blushing red, while others have paled yellow. Winds brush hair aside. Chill has run it's icy fingers down my spine. It all just makes me want to cozy down with a hot drink in the nestlike arms of pillows and blankets.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
<b>tinted nails.</b><br />
My mother let me raid her nail polish for a nice fall color. I ended up with "Fearless Fog" and "Thinking of Blue" by Sally Hansen. I sat, while watching tv, and soaked my hands. Lamentably, I tore a cuticle .. somehow. I've been tea tree oiling it so hopefully that will bear nice results. I, then, proceeded to carefully paint each nail. There is something nice in the thickness of nail paint. My index fingers received the blue, and the rest, the fog. <br />
I can say this, an exceptional gift for someone hurting is to do their nails. I requested a friend come over and paint nails with me when she asked if I would like a visit. I felt so not pretty and just needed to have pretty toes. I have no idea why.<br />
She came, and as is her fashion, went above and beyond the request. She filled two pans of warm water, soaked my feet, rubbed them with creams, scrubbed off dead skin. She loving dried them, lotioned them and then finally, painted them. I text her later that I felt loved and luxurious from my toes to my heart. I love my lowercase friend.<br />
<br />
<b>quiet.</b><br />
Despite the music and the cleaning, neither of which stopped after the pantry and laundry room, the day had a beautiful quiet to it. Somewhere and I both had the day off and spent a lot of it on projects and each other. Just in being near. Even the weather felt quiet. Our roommate had work in the evening. It was simply quiet.<br />
<br />
<b>star wars.</b><br />
I told Somewhere that he was amazing. He said "I know." His typical response to such a statement. I told him that I now understood he was quoting Star Wars in that. Sort of like "As you wish" from one of our other favorite movies. I hadn't realized that was what he was quoting until I saw a pair of cups that said "I love you" on one and "I know" on the other with a title of being a Star Wars nerd.<br />
Star Wars is very important to Somewhere. I like the movies, I've RPG'ed in the world. I don't remember many stellar details from it though. <br />
I love Somewhere, truly, madly, deeply. I know that stellar detail.<br />
Therefore, I uttered this:<br />
"Can we rewatch the movies and you point out what is really great about the different moments?"<br />
Of course he said yes.<br />
Last night, we started the rewatch with Episode One. Can I deny that I, despite great determination not to, fell asleep in the last bit? No. No I cannot. I do understand more now though. Today, the rewatch will continue.<br />
<br />
<b>a man and two dogs.</b><br />
This sums up my companionship for yesterday. <br />
A man and two dogs. I have received so much from all three.<br />
A man who is there for me, constantly. He has been such a shelter. I have not the words to really describe what he is to me. It's simply more.<br />
<br />
Two dogs. <br />
One who knew something was wrong when I got home from NC and wouldn't come near me. Very unlike him (He also knew before I did that I was pregnant and started being very protective and careful around me.<br />
That all changed when I got home from the hospital the second time. He didn't leave my side. I would lay in my living room bed and have a warm monster of a beast pasted to my side.<br />
<br />
The second beast, my darling girl, she is my pale shadow. I wake with her head next to mine, her tail always wagging from just a meeting of eyes between us. She and I are just meant.<br />
<br />
Those three, and no more, yesterday did my heart need.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Didgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07958691156172299912noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6467144398880212707.post-13343808897756366972012-10-12T20:38:00.001-04:002012-10-12T21:22:14.659-04:00Carrying NothingI really love the artist P!nk. She is a secular artist, so she isn't for everyone. Personally, I'm a big fan.<br />
<br />
Physically, she inspires me. I haven't felt up to it yet this week, but, next week, work out starts. It's time for a healthier Didge. I was talking to Somewhere about it and I said "you know, it's not just that I want to look good. I do want to get in shape and add to my confidence about my body. It's that I was just in the hospital for something I couldn't prevent. I want to make sure I do my part to not end up there for something I could prevent."<br />
Body wise, I don't hate myself. <br />
One of my regrets, being honest, was that I hadn't lost my baby weight when I got pregnant. I wanted to be in the best shape possible. I wasn't. (And no, that didn't contribute, to my knowledge, to our miscarriage.) That doesn't mean I don't feel beautiful. I know improvements can be made but that doesn't make me ugly. As Da Vinci said, "Art is never finished, only abandoned." I think beauty is the same way. Just because it's not left alone yet, that doesn't mean it isn't art.<br />
All that said. Didge is getting in better shape.<br />
<br />
P!nk's newest song "Try", which has amazing fight dancing in it, has some lyrics that have gotten stuck in my mind.<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: none; color: #333333; font-family: arial, helvetica, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 17px; line-height: 26.399999618530273px;">"Where there is desire</span><br />
<span style="background-color: none; color: #333333; font-family: arial, helvetica, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 17px; line-height: 26.399999618530273px;">There is gonna be a flame</span><br />
<span style="background-color: none; color: #333333; font-family: arial, helvetica, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 17px; line-height: 26.399999618530273px;">Where there is a flame</span><br />
<span style="background-color: none; color: #333333; font-family: arial, helvetica, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 17px; line-height: 26.399999618530273px;">Someone's bound to get burned</span><br />
<span style="background-color: none; color: #333333; font-family: arial, helvetica, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 17px; line-height: 26.399999618530273px;">But just because it burns</span><br />
<span style="background-color: none; color: #333333; font-family: arial, helvetica, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 17px; line-height: 26.399999618530273px;">Doesn't mean you're gonna die</span><br />
<span style="background-color: none; color: #333333; font-family: arial, helvetica, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 17px; line-height: 26.399999618530273px;">You've gotta get up and try try try"</span><br />
<br />
Ain't that the truth. <br />
It makes me think about how fire purifies gold. Pain isn't always bad... and it isn't without it's necessity. Pain physically tells you when something needs attention or help. I think it's the same for our soul. <br />
<br />
<br />
On another note: today I was thinking at work about how I'm never without the thought of what happened. It was an odd thought. <br />
It literally hasn't left my mind in two and a half weeks. It doesn't matter what I'm doing, I feel it's presence constantly, a nagging awareness in the back of my mind. I don't want to forget, that's not my goal. I just know one day, they won't be at the front of the back of my mind. It's like I'm carrying so much in my carrying nothing.<br />
<br />
It is amazing how heavy a burden nothingness can be.<br />
<br />
<br />Didgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07958691156172299912noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6467144398880212707.post-34232979159851963572012-10-11T22:57:00.001-04:002012-10-12T23:46:23.985-04:00The Good, The Bad and the Kindle.I took a break from blogging the last couple days. I just didn't have much to say. I've started back to work. That's going rather well. I've yet to burst into tears or do anything insane...r than normal. <br />
<br />
Seeing as I am wanting to do this every day, or at least every other day, some days are just small nothing "here's how life is" moments. Those I'm not as likely to share on FB because I don't want to seem like an attention hog. Do I over think things? Definitely.<br />
<br />
Side note, since I got a Kindle, I've taken a little break from my "only read the Bible" quest. I know, I know, doesn't this seem like the one time I do need to only read my Bible. I get that. I just felt okay/at peace about taking some time to do what I call Bubblegum Reading. A lot of sweet, doesn't last long, and not a lot of substance. That said, the books I have read haven't really been that light. Right now, I'm reading The Cover Up and The Book Thief. They are both rather good.<br />
<br />
Somewhere and I were talking tonight in the car about how we were doing and what not and I brought up how people will use the word "mad" and "angry" about what happened.<br />
<i>{If you have been one of those people, you are totally okay and right to use those words. This is not AT ALL in condemnation of those words.} </i><br />
Many people say things about how it's okay to be angry with God or to ask why. It's okay to be mad. Others have said sweet words involving the brokenness of the world we live in.<br />
<br />
I understand those statements.<br />
<br />
The strange thing is, overall, Somewhere and I aren't mad. He said "You know, not once have I really felt mad or like asking God why."<br />
We hurt and ache. We long with empty arms. We just aren't mad.<br />
I know who my Savior is. <br />
I know who designed my body and who holds the power of life... and death.<br />
I know there is a level of death being caused by the Fall.<br />
I don't believe though, that Satan or anything "evil" had a hand in our miscarriage. <br />
God did a marvelous job of designing a woman's body to carry children. He also designed it to know when a baby wouldn't make it and that the body didn't need to carry on with a pregnancy. That's perhaps a hard thing to handle, but it is what it is.<br />
I do not blame evil. <br />
I have asked God why in brokenness, but, I didn't really expect an answer.<br />
I told Somewhere that I don't think I could comprehend the answer, it would be too big. Also, if I can't accept what I see as bad as a way for God to work good, what is that point. Am I only to accept the good and not the bad?<br />
<br />
I once had an art teacher tell me I was gifted in art because I could accept my flaws. I didn't just get upset over messing up, I turned it into something else. Many of my accidents were some of my greatest, strongest pieces. When I started drawing, did I forsee that? Nope. Looking back though, I do.<br />
<br />
God does not make mistakes. There is nothing He does not see. What I see right now as something going wrong... well, that could very well be part of one of the greatest and strongest piece of me. Didgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07958691156172299912noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6467144398880212707.post-87547777600005959272012-10-07T01:18:00.001-04:002012-10-07T01:18:33.017-04:00Just a little updateI'm trying to do this daily. Mostly so I have something to look forward to as a way to release. It also helps encourage me to think about what happened and how I'm going forward with Somewhere, in small chunks, every day. I guess in a way, it's how I remember/honor those sweethearts. <br />
<br />
All that said, tonight we went to Wal-Mart. Several things made me simply miss them. That's all. I'm not mad or bitter. <br />
<br />
I just miss my sweethearts. It's hard to miss someone you never met. I do though. I really do.Didgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07958691156172299912noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6467144398880212707.post-46153565156500817462012-10-05T22:46:00.001-04:002012-10-05T22:57:28.799-04:00VoiceToday has been a big mixture. It's one week since I arrived home from the hospital. That's a weird feeling. I still have bruises on my arms. I'm easing into the things pregnancy asked me to put aside for a while. Things like drinking caffiene, not getting dizzy and sushi. Okay. So I haven't had sushi yet. It'll happen.<br />
<br />
While it has been a long week, things are starting to feel uncomfortably normal. I'll be returning to work Monday. In fact, I went into Staff Day today. I wear normal clothes out. (We all have sweats days.) I don't have too strict of a list of things on my "don't even" list. Life is awfully closer to normal.<br />
<br />
Part of normal for me is watching The Voice. I love, love, love this show. I don't really know why. I love singing. Thats part of it. I love how it gets out your feelings in a way that is really hard to compare. I can easily dream of standing up there, pouring out my overflowing soul. Am I a nerd? Oh definitely. I get hardcore into it. I sit in my living room and in my car... Don't lie. You turn it up for the drive. Anywho, I sit in those scenerios and think what song do I enjoy that also summerizes me? I get so legit into it. Watching it tonight, I started thinking about it again.<br />
<br />
Some days, I'm "Feeling Good." That will forever be a favorite.<br />
I have my "The Fighter" moments. (This one has language in it. Somehow, that didn't mean God didn't use it to give me a message that brought me to tears.)<br />
I had a time as a 19-20 year old where I thought my heart couldn't be anymore broken by a boy. I sobbed my loneliness late at night where God impressed on my heart that tears speak. He didn't need words to understand what my tears said. I melted into that embrace. Thank God for that heartbreak. Therefore, "All Around Me" has a special place as well.<br />
I am reminded of Christ's love everytime I hear "Ain't No Mountain High Enough", a fact that makes me chuckle.<br />
<br />
The song that summed up my heart two weekends ago, that one is simple. "10,000 Reasons" by Matt Redman.<br />
<br />
It is amazing that God gave us the gift of music.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">Here's my question: What is a song that you think suits me?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">Better yet.</span><br />
<br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">What is your song?</span></i></b><br />
<br />
<br />
LYRICS<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><a href="http://www.lyricsfreak.com/n/nina+simone/feeling+good_20100629.html">Feeling Good</a></span><br />
<a href="http://www.lyrics.net/lyric/25046281">The Fighter</a><br />
<a href="http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/flyleaf/allaroundme.html">All Around Me</a><br />
<a href="http://www.stlyrics.com/songs/g/gayemarvin14982/aintnomountainhighenough400404.html">Ain't No Mountain High Enough</a><br />
<a href="http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/mattredman/10000reasonsblessthelord.html">10,000 Reasons</a><br />
<br />
EXTRAS<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469);"><a href="http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/anidifranco/32flavors.html">32 Flavors</a></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><a href="http://www.metrolyrics.com/who-you-are-lyrics-jessie-j.html">Who You Are</a></span><br />
<a href="http://www.lyricsreg.com/lyrics/family+force+5/Superhero/">Superhero</a><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><a href="http://www.lyrics007.com/Jars%20Of%20Clay%20Lyrics/All%20My%20Tears%20Lyrics.html">All My Tears</a></span><br />
<a href="http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/sanctusreal/imnotalright.html">I'm Not Alright</a><br />
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<br />Didgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07958691156172299912noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6467144398880212707.post-38524761202929651152012-10-04T19:06:00.001-04:002012-10-04T20:27:39.399-04:00The GuyI've noticed something. While people do mention him, a lot of times, a husband in this situation gets put off to the side by others in their rush to comfort the wife. Now, in our case, a lot of people have taken time out to make sure Somewhere is okay and to look out for his needs too. I really love that about our friends and family.<br />
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The dad has lost something precious here as well. Somewhere will admit that the thought is true that a woman becomes a mom the moment she learns she's pregnant, the man becomes a father when he first meets his child. That doesn't mean he isn't dreaming as well. Things like watching Star Wars with them for the first time, creating Lego masterpieces, having someone crawl in your lap while you work.<br />
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Secondly, while as a woman, my first thought was trying to keep those babies safe, the man, his thoughts are first for whether or not I was in danger. He has two people on his mind. Somewhere couldn't feel what I felt. He just knew things were not as they should be and he couldn't do much about anything.<br />
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The guys feel the need to protect, to be strong, to hold it together. They bear so much, so quietly most of the time, and yet get so forgotten.<br />
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Therefore, my advice: pray for the guy as well. Find out their favorite snack, play a video game with them or just give them a hug. Again, our circle have done so well with this. This is just my thought on whenever you are dealing with a couple's loss.<br />
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He hurts also.Didgehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07958691156172299912noreply@blogger.com3