Once again here we are, wrapping up another school year. The years seem to stretch before me, being pregnant there are so many left, but having a middle schooler there are also too few.
We are spending the week finishing things, finding things, putting together the portfolios, writing up next year's objectives, and doing final activities to complete the 2011-2012 school year. This year also includes re-writing the log book that got destroyed by the cats.
As always, there are so many things that we do that cannot fit in the portfolio. Sometimes we do huge projects, but that is not what I am talking about. I am talking about the things that there is no section for, not rubric, no entry in the log book. We have overcome so much this school year, from the loss of our Hope, to the loss of pets. Major sickness in family members, struggles finishing some school work, and long days of extra to make up for the lost days. Also, each of the children have had personal conquests.
Angel hit a school year in which it was not longer all easy work. At the beginning of the year she would struggle with work and it would be the end of the world if she got a problem wrong. Never mind if it was not on a test and she could simply fix it. There was frustration, tears, anger, and more tears. Now, she was doing long division and realized during the checking portion that she made a mistake on a worksheet. She was frustrated, but she redid the work. Several times. Until she got it right. And there were no tears. Only a huge smile because she prevailed. I have always had so many reason to be proud of her, and now there is one more!
Faith's progress has been measured in leaps and bounds since she was diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome. At times it was super hard, and at other times it was easier, at least in comparison. This year has been full of changes for her. Her gecko, Liz, died. She lost her favorite Behavior Specialist, and several came and went quickly. The last was also very good with her, and just left us. But on a positive note, this does not only mark the end of her time with that Behavior Specialist, but of her services altogether. She has progressed so much in recent months that there is no more a Behavior Specialist can do for her, for us. We are handling any problems that come up, and there was a recommendation to limit her services so much that it was about the same to quit receiving them, and so we all agreed that was the best option. And so as we look toward the next school year we are simply using the techniques we have learned in the past 18 months.
Isaac. Oh, Isaac. He is good at so many things, and he keeps me on my toes. In school he is great at math, but not so great at focusing. Once I get his attention, I only have a limited time to work with him. We have been working on some other issues as well, like anger, attention to work, and thinking through his actions before acting. I have seen some progress in these areas. I know the struggle is real, because he does not just have focus problems in school, but even in things he enjoys. With charts, reminders, rewards, and patience we will prevail. And past experience with other active children in my life lets me know that they slow down a good bit after hitting the teen years. May not pay attention, but at least they start to sit still for longer.
David is growing so fast! He is not doing school yet, of course. However, Angel does activities with him. He has spend the past few weeks having a great time as Mariah comes over to play. They love to paint, play, swim, and watch Blue's Clues. He has been showing a lot of interest in letters and numbers. He learned how to swim. He even goes under water. He still loves anything firefighter, and even got to help Pappy put out a fire!
And as usual, they are not the only ones learning and growing. I have been trying to keep ahead of them in their school, do my own school, write VBS, and keep growing this baby. I have dealt with my biggest fear, the loss of my baby. I struggled so much through the miscarriage and for months after, and am pulling through now. I have relied heavily on the grace of God, and my husband's support. And I am doing OK. And I know that doing great lies ahead. I have gone through a fire and am going to come out stronger, closer to God, and while I may never know the purpose of my loss, I know that Hope's time with us, however brief, served a purpose, changed us in many ways, and will bring God glory.
Still so much to do to finish our year, but this time when I close that portfolio after the evaluation, I have even more than ever before that we have accomplished, and my heart is full.
Showing posts with label Hope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hope. Show all posts
Monday, June 4, 2012
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Thanksgiving
This year I am having a hard time realizing that tomorrow is Thanksgiving. It snuck up on me. I am very thankful for the blessings God has given me, my wonderful husband, my children, my home, my extended family. The fact that I live in a place where I am free to worship my God, to homeschool my children, to live in freedom.
And yet, I am also having a hard time this Thanksgiving. I am still too focused on the loss of our sweet Hope. Despite the brief time I had knowing that she was there, growing under my heart, in my heart, or perhaps because the time was too short, I find myself in despair often. Daily. Sometimes hourly. She never had the chance to meet the family who loves her so, her father who named her, her mother who prayed for her, her sisters and brothers who mourn her loss. We never had the chance to meet her, to hold her, to let her hear our voices. And yet, she is a part of me, of us.
At first I could do no more than lay on my couch and think about my loss. Those first days I had to force myself to shower, to dress, to eat, to sleep. Never mind cooking, cleaning, laundry, school. I have now been able to force myself to do more, but my heart is not in it yet. I will be laughing with my children, and know I will not have the chance to laugh with Hope. And I cry. I look at our family portrait, taken while I was pregnant, and I see an empty space. And I cry. I sing a song in church about the hope God has given us. And I cry. I lay my head on my pillow at night and my heart is heavy. So heavy. And I cry.
And I know that I have been given so much. That others have lost more. Are losing more. We need, I need, to choose to try and be thankful in all things. I can be thankful, as Faith put it tonight at dinner, that God gave us a blessing for a short while. We do not know why it was so short. We may never know why. Why is not really important. I am choosing to be thankful that Hope was placed with us, those who love her, even for a brief time, so that she would be loved. And loved deeply.
And yet, I am also having a hard time this Thanksgiving. I am still too focused on the loss of our sweet Hope. Despite the brief time I had knowing that she was there, growing under my heart, in my heart, or perhaps because the time was too short, I find myself in despair often. Daily. Sometimes hourly. She never had the chance to meet the family who loves her so, her father who named her, her mother who prayed for her, her sisters and brothers who mourn her loss. We never had the chance to meet her, to hold her, to let her hear our voices. And yet, she is a part of me, of us.
At first I could do no more than lay on my couch and think about my loss. Those first days I had to force myself to shower, to dress, to eat, to sleep. Never mind cooking, cleaning, laundry, school. I have now been able to force myself to do more, but my heart is not in it yet. I will be laughing with my children, and know I will not have the chance to laugh with Hope. And I cry. I look at our family portrait, taken while I was pregnant, and I see an empty space. And I cry. I sing a song in church about the hope God has given us. And I cry. I lay my head on my pillow at night and my heart is heavy. So heavy. And I cry.
And I know that I have been given so much. That others have lost more. Are losing more. We need, I need, to choose to try and be thankful in all things. I can be thankful, as Faith put it tonight at dinner, that God gave us a blessing for a short while. We do not know why it was so short. We may never know why. Why is not really important. I am choosing to be thankful that Hope was placed with us, those who love her, even for a brief time, so that she would be loved. And loved deeply.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Hope
This will be the hardest blog I have ever written. Please bear with me.
A few weeks ago, or an eternity ago, I cannot be certain, we found out we were expecting our fifth little blessing. From the moment I saw the little plus sign, I was in love. I began praying, planning, hoping, and dreaming.
And then this dream started. I dreamed that at my first doctor’s appointment I was told my sweet baby had passed away. And then there was a little baby girl, dressed in a pretty white dress. And then I wake up in tears. And the next night, same thing. And the next night.
I went to my doctor’s appointment with excitement, and trying to push my recurring dream from my mind. I sat in the waiting room trying to figure out how many hours I would have to stare at the same posters on the wall. And waiting for the test that would confirm that I was pregnant, give me a due date, and schedule my next appointment. I had taken enough home tests to know for sure, had already figured out that they would tell me June 28, 2012. I also figured that I would be having a baby in July because my babies are always late.
Instead, I was told that we lost our baby, our sweet little baby. From the moment I had seen those positive tests, that was my child. I no longer considered that I had four children, it was now five children. I was rearranging furniture, planning our summer around the new arrival, and figuring the seating arrangement in the van. This was not possible. I could not imagine that my dream, my nightmare had come true. I insisted on a blood test.
I called the whole way home about the results. As I was opening the door, the call came. Miscarriage. I argued with the nurse. Then a midwife. Then a doctor. And hung up mad that they would lie to me. Four tests, and two days later the truth sunk in.
My baby, my sweet child, would be one I never get to hold this side of heaven. Never even have an ultrasound picture, let alone a picture. No baby items, no memories, just a few weeks of hope. And a dream of a little baby girl in a white dress. And so, my husband decided that our baby should have a name. He choose Hope. Hope Elaine.
Because we had told everyone about our blessing, we now had to tell our children. And they would feel the loss hard as they had already been planning with me, excited to share their rooms, sitting by the baby in the van, and changing diapers. They all wanted to change a diaper.
We sat them down, empty handed, heavy hearted, and shared the news. And we cried. And we mourned. And we talked. And cried some more. And we all grieved that there was not going to be memories. Each of my children has a memory box full of the things they loved the most at different ages. And a journal that I write letters to my children on special days. They wanted to make Hope a memory box. And so we have a beautiful box with a rose print. And full of what my other children all thought Hope would like. There are letters and drawings. A Precious Moments boy that says a prayer form David. A Spiderman watch from Isaac. His favorite. A favorite stuffed unicorn from Faith. The Bible that Angel was given when she was born. A journal that Angel made. Two roses,one from each big sister to their little sister. A ring with footprints from my jewelry box. A tiny baby. They want to buy a little sister necklace for Hope for Christmas. And they are planning on releasing balloons for Hope on the day she was due~ June 28th.
We took our little box to my mothers. Each child had a memento to show off, a letter, a drawing. They built their own memories of a baby that they will never meet here on earth, but know they will see in heaven. And we cried. And prayed. And talked. And even laughed. Most importantly, we loved. We loved each other, and our sweet Hope.
For you see, every life, no matter how short, has a purpose. Is loved by God. Every one of my children is loved and cherished. From the moment they exist. By God. By me. And each will have a place in my heart forever.
A few weeks ago, or an eternity ago, I cannot be certain, we found out we were expecting our fifth little blessing. From the moment I saw the little plus sign, I was in love. I began praying, planning, hoping, and dreaming.
And then this dream started. I dreamed that at my first doctor’s appointment I was told my sweet baby had passed away. And then there was a little baby girl, dressed in a pretty white dress. And then I wake up in tears. And the next night, same thing. And the next night.
I went to my doctor’s appointment with excitement, and trying to push my recurring dream from my mind. I sat in the waiting room trying to figure out how many hours I would have to stare at the same posters on the wall. And waiting for the test that would confirm that I was pregnant, give me a due date, and schedule my next appointment. I had taken enough home tests to know for sure, had already figured out that they would tell me June 28, 2012. I also figured that I would be having a baby in July because my babies are always late.
Instead, I was told that we lost our baby, our sweet little baby. From the moment I had seen those positive tests, that was my child. I no longer considered that I had four children, it was now five children. I was rearranging furniture, planning our summer around the new arrival, and figuring the seating arrangement in the van. This was not possible. I could not imagine that my dream, my nightmare had come true. I insisted on a blood test.
I called the whole way home about the results. As I was opening the door, the call came. Miscarriage. I argued with the nurse. Then a midwife. Then a doctor. And hung up mad that they would lie to me. Four tests, and two days later the truth sunk in.
My baby, my sweet child, would be one I never get to hold this side of heaven. Never even have an ultrasound picture, let alone a picture. No baby items, no memories, just a few weeks of hope. And a dream of a little baby girl in a white dress. And so, my husband decided that our baby should have a name. He choose Hope. Hope Elaine.
Because we had told everyone about our blessing, we now had to tell our children. And they would feel the loss hard as they had already been planning with me, excited to share their rooms, sitting by the baby in the van, and changing diapers. They all wanted to change a diaper.
We sat them down, empty handed, heavy hearted, and shared the news. And we cried. And we mourned. And we talked. And cried some more. And we all grieved that there was not going to be memories. Each of my children has a memory box full of the things they loved the most at different ages. And a journal that I write letters to my children on special days. They wanted to make Hope a memory box. And so we have a beautiful box with a rose print. And full of what my other children all thought Hope would like. There are letters and drawings. A Precious Moments boy that says a prayer form David. A Spiderman watch from Isaac. His favorite. A favorite stuffed unicorn from Faith. The Bible that Angel was given when she was born. A journal that Angel made. Two roses,one from each big sister to their little sister. A ring with footprints from my jewelry box. A tiny baby. They want to buy a little sister necklace for Hope for Christmas. And they are planning on releasing balloons for Hope on the day she was due~ June 28th.
We took our little box to my mothers. Each child had a memento to show off, a letter, a drawing. They built their own memories of a baby that they will never meet here on earth, but know they will see in heaven. And we cried. And prayed. And talked. And even laughed. Most importantly, we loved. We loved each other, and our sweet Hope.
For you see, every life, no matter how short, has a purpose. Is loved by God. Every one of my children is loved and cherished. From the moment they exist. By God. By me. And each will have a place in my heart forever.
“Praise You In This Storm”
I was sure by now
God You would have reached down
And wiped our tears away
Stepped in and saved the day
But once again, I say “Amen”, and it’s still raining
As the thunder rolls
I barely hear Your whisper through the rain
“I’m with you”
And as Your mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise the God who gives
And takes away
And I’ll praise You in this storm
And I will lift my hands
For You are who You are
No matter where I am
And every tear I’ve cried
You hold in Your hand
You never left my side
And though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm
I remember when
I stumbled in the wind
You heard my cry to you
And you raised me up again
My strength is almost gone
How can I carry on
If I can’t find You
But as the thunder rolls
I barely hear You whisper through the rain
“I’m with you”
And as Your mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise the God who gives
And takes away
I lift my eyes unto the hills
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord
The Maker of Heaven and Earth
God You would have reached down
And wiped our tears away
Stepped in and saved the day
But once again, I say “Amen”, and it’s still raining
As the thunder rolls
I barely hear Your whisper through the rain
“I’m with you”
And as Your mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise the God who gives
And takes away
And I’ll praise You in this storm
And I will lift my hands
For You are who You are
No matter where I am
And every tear I’ve cried
You hold in Your hand
You never left my side
And though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm
I remember when
I stumbled in the wind
You heard my cry to you
And you raised me up again
My strength is almost gone
How can I carry on
If I can’t find You
But as the thunder rolls
I barely hear You whisper through the rain
“I’m with you”
And as Your mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise the God who gives
And takes away
I lift my eyes unto the hills
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord
The Maker of Heaven and Earth
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)