Momma in the Valley

 I only have one picture with my Bailey. It is a  super awkward picture of me, but the only picture we have with him. Earlier I saw a post that said, “and some babies only know the arms of Jesus.” This made me cry simultaneous tears of joy and sadness. I miss what could have been. I miss the joy we lost. I miss the cuddles and the smiles that would have been. But thank God He has Bailey in His arms. I never felt Bailey in my arms, but Bailey has only known the safety of Mommy’s belly and the safety of His Heavenly Father’s arms. Praise the Lord, oh my soul. 

  We lost our Bailey a year ago. There still are not words for that loss. However, now we get to celebrate every day with this little booger and teach him the preciousness of life. We get to laugh with him, cry with him, pray with him, and grow with him. My prayer is that he will be a simple man who loves God, country, and family. We are going to make mistakes, little man, but we love you more than we could ever say.  

  A year ago, I found out I was pregnant. A year ago, we were looking in awe at a pink line on a pregnancy test, imagining what our child would be like, who they would be, what they would accomplish. We told the grandparents and had them celebrate with us. We planned how we would tell others. I took pictures of my belly to begin the journey. But then it all vanished, including that pink line. I went alone to the health department, thinking it was just going to be a test and I’d get a phone call later. I didn’t know I would be calling my husband to tell him we didn’t have our baby anymore. I had no idea how quickly our lives could change. I didn’t know how deeply I could love in a moments notice and how much despair I could feel over losing someone I had not yet met. But I also had no idea how much love would surround us or how many people had experienced the same heartache. I also had no idea what God was preparing us for. I didn’t know my heart was stone until I had a baby who could m

“Are you ready yet?” The most asked question during this pregnancy. My typical answer is “as ready as we’ll ever be!” I have no idea what we could possibly do to be more “ready.” We have the nursery together. All of Samuels clothes are washed. His diapers are together. The bags for him, me, and Alex are packed. The house is as clean as it’s going to get. Our hearts are full, our support system is close, and we are all ecstatic to meet our little man. But we will never be “ready.” We both fully recognize that we will mess up. We are fallible beings. But we are willing. We are willing to learn from our mistakes. We are willing to be there when things get rough. We are willing to learn with our Samuel. We are willing to hear the advice of others. We are willing to love our baby to the best of our ability. We are willing to raise him up in the way he should go, even when it feels impossible. We are willing to sacrifice whatever it takes to help make a safe physical and mental envi

2 weeks ago, I was presented with the possibility of having preeclampsia. My blood pressure was high, I had protein in my urine, I was swollen, and I had gained 10lbs out of nowhere. So, they ran tests and had me come back the day after next. Like most parents, I’m afraid of anything hurting my baby. I’ve tried to make fairly healthy choices to help him grow and to be as strong as possible. Any twinge, any ache, any pain—I get scared that I am losing him. So to hear of an impending diagnosis that could mean death to my baby...that was the worst thing I could hear. No matter how well managed it could be, no matter how common it is, it sounded like a predictor of doomsday. I immediately told my husband, worried and scared out of my mind. I called on those closest to me, asking for prayers for our baby to be okay. I prayed. I cried. I stayed up those two nights feeling fearful. I imagined what I would do in every worst case scenario I could come up with. My husband loved on me, c

This time of Covid has brought many changes, many worries, many fears, and much alone time to light. Suddenly, I’m home all the time. Suddenly, I’m not working. Suddenly, my social outlets have been shut down. Suddenly, I’m left to my own devices. Suddenly, it’s April and now May. Bit by bit, my motherly instincts have been kicking in. I’ve been worrying about this sweet baby Samuel since day one, and to think I could lose him byway of something I could have avoided by staying home—that thought kills me. So, that’s why I’m home. To try to protect my family as best I can. Our hearts stopped when we lost Bailey, and we want to do all we can to protect Samuel, even if it is a decision ridiculed by some. That ridicule doesn’t matter—what matters is our love for this baby. All of these fears and worries come at a time when mine and my husbands emotions are most raw. Saturday, May 9th, was the projected due date for us to meet our Bailey. This date has been in the back of our minds

My Dear Baby, Mommy and Daddy never thought we would get to be this far in—18 weeks! You are a dream. You are a blessing we stand in awe of. You are a work of art our God has created, and we are blessed to get to be the vessels that hold and adore you. We are amazed to have gotten this far, but we are still scared. Your Mommy still makes a plan each time she goes to the doctor—a plan of action of who to call and where to go if the doctor utters words that say we have lost you. I still have day dreams (nightmares) of things that could go wrong. I still worry that my body is not enough to support you—I feel like a failure each time I’m asked to go on a vitamin supplement, as if the body that was meant to hold you can’t sustain you. You know what? My body isn’t enough. Your Mommy and Daddy are not and will never be enough. We are not perfect, and you will not be coming into a perfect world. We will both falter. There will be times we are unfair to you. We are sinners. We are