Wish I knew

Sometimes I just sit and stare at the walls in my living room or my bedroom or Lylah’s nursery. Yep, definitely a crazy person. That’s okay I think… right? Never mind I don’t really want to know the answer to that.

The point is, I sit and stare and feel so much.
 

It’s hard to get it all out, and sometimes only some of it I can comprehend.

For the first time in I don’t know how long I admitted to my husband I missed wearing my scrubs. Oh boy, what’s happening now?

God, I so wish I knew.

I feel like I’m still venturing through this season of my life but at the same time somehow God is working something in me. I can feel it.
 

So, am I entering a new season? Or, just finally realizing more things that only He can show me in His time?

I don’t know why Lylah had to go.
But I know God called her because she was His daughter. She was given to us to care for as long as God thought she needed, she had felt everything she needed to, and then He called her home.

I don’t know why I feel the need to contribute to my family.
Why I feel like I’m not worthy. Not good enough.
That’s in my own head, I do know that. Austin would be okay with me staying home forever if it made me happy.

I haven’t worked since the end of August. Since my brother in law was in a motorcycle accident at the end of August. August 24^th to be exact.  We lost Lylah in November. November 10^th to be exact. Austin was home for a week with me. Then, he went back to work. But I didn’t. I haven’t worked a day since August 24^th.

(Well, that’s not entirely true it’s not like I sit at home and fiddle my thumbs every day. I maintain our home and babysit a few days a week.)

When my employer made me choose. Choose my family or my job. And that’s what it was, it was a job. It wasn’t my career. I wasn’t even working as a nurse at the time. I wanted to take a break. I wanted to make sure we were ready to start our family because I knew I would never be okay with working twelve hour shifts second or even third shift with a baby at home. When my husband has a very demanding job as an officer. He works second shift. It couldn’t work with us both having such demanding careers. I didn’t want it to work that way.

I wanted to be home, I knew that for sure.  

But the truth is they were never supportive of my pregnancy. Like I’ve told y’all it was a hard one in the beginning with how sick I was. I pretty much used up all of my sick time between appointments and being sick, and was in the bathroom probably more than everyone combined. I think most companies, most people; anyone with a heart would understand that I was pregnant and sick. I was trying my hardest. But they didn’t. So, when my brother almost died and I had to take three days off to be in the ICU with him, to be there in case he didn’t make it through one of his multiple seriously dangerous operations to say goodbye…

they made me choose. My job or my family.

I chose my family. I will always choose my family. If I were put in this situation again tomorrow, I’d choose my family.
I’d choose them over anything else in this entire world. Because they’re all I have that mean anything in this entire world.

And now, trying for another baby whom I’m so desperately praying for, I feel like I’m at a crossroads. I don’t understand it either.
Yes, it would definitely help for me to go back to work doing whatever I choose.
And I feel inclined to do so.
So, I start looking and I stop anytime it comes time to push send on an application. 

Why?

 God, I so wish I knew.

 

Is it because this season isn’t over? I’m still figuring things out. Letting myself finally feel everything so deeply that it makes me almost crumble.

I’m okay. I understand my brother is alive. Although, he will never be the same man. He’s now paralyzed from the waist down.
He’ll never be the same again. 

I understand Lylah went to Heaven, and for that truth I’m forever grateful. I understand despite everything I’ve been through, everything my family has gone through in the last year has only made us stronger. Has only made me fall deeper into the Lord.
Made me find my strength in Him.

I know more than anything I’m ready for another baby. Austin said yesterday this time around he's not even scared, just ready. More than anything else that’s what he wants.

He's not even scared, he's just ready. Ready for it now.

I admire his strength.

I wasn’t scared the first time around I never had any feeling that this would end the way it did for us. I wasn't nervous about bringing a life into this world, our world. I was just excited. Excited and ready. And maybe a little nervous too.

But this time, I’m a little scared. I’m a little scared at how drastically our life and our relationship is going to change. For us, getting pregnant will require a LOT of medical attention. I will have doctor appointments every other week. Sometimes every week. And I will be on bed rest starting at 12 weeks. And that’s praying I don’t end up on hospitalized bed rest. So yeah, I can admit I’m nervous for this. But that doesn’t mean I’m not ready or excited or willing to take on the challenge for a healthy baby and a healthy me.

But what does all of this mean?

God, I so wish I knew.

I know that’s defying God. We don’t always understand His plan. But we have to trust it. I’m really trying to trust it right now.

I wish I knew why I felt like I had to go to work right now. Yet, can’t bring myself to actually submit a single resume.

I wish I knew why things happen the way they do. I wish I could understand why we had so much hope with my brother’s accident with having my Lylah dancing around in my belly… only to lose her. To lose my hope.

That little girl’s name should have been hope because she brought so much of it.

Maybe that’s the point of all of this? Maybe God knew my brother would get in an accident on that stupid motorcycle that drove all of us into anxiety attacks
every time he left on it. 

Maybe God gave us Lylah before all of that for me to remind my family of the hope we had in her. Because God gave us her. That means He’s good. He didn’t do this. Brendan’s accident wasn’t God’s fault. He wasn’t punishing anyone. Maybe Lylah was our hope. And He showed us our hope, delivered His promises. And took her home. Right about the time we lost Lylah everyone was feeling hopeful again.

I promise I’m not making that up. My brother was just released from the hospital. He had therapy three times a week. Was making more progress than any other patient they’ve ever had at this hospital, which happens to be a level 1 trauma center for our area. The one person who felt so deeply that it was God’s fault for not saving him and for letting this happen, had a change of heart. Felt hope again.

And then soon after… I went into labor.
Lylah was gone.
And everyone lost their hope again. Except for me.

Don’t get me wrong I was angry, defeated, sad, lost, overwhelmed with "what ifs," devastated. None of those words even come close to describing how I felt.
But I had already felt this incredible sense of hope when I thought nothing was ever going to be alright. So I knew. I knew God didn’t do this. He’s not evil. He doesn’t hurt us. He teaches us. Teaches us His plan in His time. It certainly took a bit to accept that but I knew it all along.

This has all been His plan. And though it’s been vastly different than how I think any of us had planned or wanted it to go I’m learning it’s His plan not mine that will deliver the most happiest of endings. And that’s His promise.

To be reunited in heaven all together, all healthy.
God, I can’t wait for that day.

But in the meantime, I’m still trying to learn what this plan of Yours means.
I’m learning what this plan is.
It’s hard not knowing what’s going to happen.

But I pray for peace. Peace of mind that all is going to work out in the end in the most beautiful and happiest of ways. I pray that we are blessed with another baby soon. I know that’s me not trusting again there. It’s so hard. I know my time can be very different than His time. So, I pray that I’m reminded of that when I get carried away. I pray that His time comes soon, and His time and His plan finally include what we’ve been hoping for. Because I could really use some good news, something good in the midst of all this bad.

God, I just so wish I knew…