Be {loved}

  “and provide for those who grieve—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
    instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
    instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
    instead of a spirit of despair”
~from Isaiah 61:3

Lately our sweet girl has not been sleeping well… you know those nights when you are up and down, back and forth, rocking and patting, shushing and asking “baby, why won’t you just go to sleep?” Of course, she won’t answer, and in the grand scheme of parenthood, sleeplessness is a small price to pay. But- after a while, you just need sleep. We are all in the boat of needing sleep.

We came to the conclusion that it’s time for her to move into her own room. This arrangement {of her in a crib in our room} had been working wonderfully, but, it is no longer working. We have a spare room we can move her into, and I am praying she will sleep more soundly. I came to the conclusion that I wanted to make it a little bit pretty for her before I move her in there, because I know if I don’t do it now it won’t get done. It’s something that is really important to me. I couldn’t quite put my finger on the “why” of it all… and to be honest, Matt said ok, but I know the thought “Our baby isn’t sleeping, and we want to move her, but you need to paint the room first?” was running through his mind. Not to mention we have so many other painting things to finish up- he was reluctant to start another project!

I thought I knew the why, so I explained, and he said ok. I found myself priming the walls on a sunny morning… and suddenly I was so over come with emotion. I just started to weep. All of the feelings of being pregnant with Finley came rushing back. They weren’t days of excitement; of dreaming, planning or preparing a baby room. At the time I couldn’t even bring myself to wash baby clothes. I can remember sitting in my girlfriend’s kitchen while pregnant, when she asked me “What do we need to do to get ready?! What have you done so far?”

I broke into a puddle of tears. I was 34 weeks, and I was still afraid I was going to lose this baby. I couldn’t wrap my head around a baby coming… my heart was hurting. She assured me that I was going to have this baby, and it was going to be healthy, and I needed to prepare a place for it {her]. I started to move beyond some of the fear that had me stuck.

Fear can do that. Get us stuck.

So, as I was rolling layers of paint this past Valentines day {Saturday} everything in my heart just started to move. And through muffled sobs I asked Matt to come and I just wept in his arms. I wept for our little baby that was due Feb.8 2014. I wept for the loss and the guilt I felt for not being “excited” during my pregnancy with Fin…I was so worried I would lose her. It was a physically rough pregnancy, but also emotionally and spiritually draining.

Oh how I love her with every part of my being. Preparing this room for her is one small act of love, to say she is special and I celebrate her. I didn’t know how healing it would be to roll paint onto a wall. To have a fresh start. To prepare a little space for her, with love from her mama. It is healing for me to claim the joy in preparing for my baby, even if she is 9 months old. It’s not too late. I realized that I needed this.

It isn’t about moving on from grief. It isn’t about saying “it’s not so bad.” I am still so raw about the loss of our third baby, and I want to celebrate her life too. I may always be raw… a sweet friend said to me “You are a feeler, like me. I can see that. We feel everything so deeply.” Her words taught me something about myself I didn’t really understand before.

Through deep sobs I told Matt, “I just want to honor our baby that we lost and I don’t know how to do that.” He said, be a mama to your babes. Be a mama. 

I love that man. Life is messy and raw sometimes. Marriage isn’t only about nice dinners and diamonds. Spa days or vacations. It’s about holding your wife as she melts in your arms, weeping uncontrollably for the loss of a little life that God created because of the bond of love you share.  All while raising 3 little souls that are in the next room, laughing and playing cards, cooing and banging blocks. Sometimes it means tired fights at 2 am and saying you’re sorry the next morning. Holding each other close, so that all of the unknowns don’t get in between you. Because there is one thing you can be certain of- this love is real. It’s been tested and tried. It’s been pushed and pulled. But if you keep coming back to one another, God will help hold you together.

Our love story is one that was formed in the fires of loss. Our wedding message was “Beauty from Ashes” a message I couldn’t have chosen for myself. Everything about Matt has meant coming home for me. He is my home. Our love grew when there was only desolation left in my life. My worst reality had come true… and yet, God found a way to prove to me that love was real. Words can’t express how thankful I am for Matt.

He is a man who understands my heart. He understands that painting a wall is a deeper act than wanting it to look nice… He just get’s me. And he loves me.

He is my beloved.

Happy Love Day, today and everyday.

-Miss Ash