I kinda had a whirlwind week last week. I've been under the weather. We had a garage sale over the weekend, Audrey had her first sleep over with her best friend, we had dinner with some friends, we had church and small group, and I had to take snacks to small group. Today my body's feeling last week's chaos.

Celebration!
Doug and I celebrated a mini-milestone yesterday. We are unashamedly, hopeless romantics searching for opportunities to love on each other! 12 years ago, November 11, 1995, Doug and I agreed to start courting! For 12 years God has protected our commitment to each other. We have grown and learned to love each other even more! In an era where most marriages don't even last this long, we're grateful to God. He put us together and has preserved us. He is to be glorified! Many men won't stay with a woman who can't have babies, who has poor health, and who cost lots of money in medical bills. Doug has not only stayed, but he has sustained me! He has faithfully loved me, helped me, taught me, and filled me with unexplainable joy. And, he promises to continue that until we die!! After 12 years I can still say that I know no greater man!

Audrey's First Sleep-over
Audrey stayed up late talking with her little friend and was up early the next morning talking. She was outside for a long time playing soccer and jumping on a trampoline and didn't have a nap. After several late nights, early mornings, and general busyness, she is tuckered out!

Audrey looked forward to the sleep over for 3 weeks. It's been constant reminders and countdowns until the day. She reviewed the packing list for her overnight bag almost every day for 3 weeks. She reminded Doug and I that we'd have to keep on feeding Sadie while she was gone and reminded us of other daily tasks. We assured her we'd have no trouble holding down the fort without her! Funny how she thinks she plays such an integral role in the daily functioning of the house. She is a good helper to her Momma, no doubt. But she acts as though our home would cease running smoothly without her. She is so funny.

I was confronted with that strange fear a parent has the first time their kid goes away.  You know, the fear, "what will my child do or say to completely embarrass me while she's away?" It's pride, really. I didn't worry about her - if she'd miss me, would she cry for me, what if she gets hurt and I'm not there, etc. She was staying with the Risers and I knew they'd care for her with great love and attention. And I knew that Audrey is quite confident on her own and doesn't have any issues with separation. In fact, quite the contrary. Just once in her life, I'd almost appreciate her clinging to my leg before leaving me with a nice public display of her love and dedication to me. But again, it's pride!!

For the most part Audrey did well over there. She pretended for a while that she didn't know what she was doing on her own in the bathroom. But we dealt with that and she apologized to Mrs. Riser for her lies. And I apologized for Audrey's early waking on their few opportunities to rest and sleep in.

Audrey is still riding high on all her memories of the weekend. When I hear her speak about it, I'm left with this amazement that she's even old enough to have a sleep over. Where has the time gone? It just seems like yesterday she was a baby, totally dependent on me and never away from me for 3-4 hours because I'd need to nurse her again. And now look at her..... I love it and hate it at the same time. She's becoming so much older and more mature and broader in her understanding of God and I thrive on witnessing that growth. And yet my heart aches as I see the days whiz by - missed opportunities, memories of infancy becoming more fuzzy, etc. I long to just press pause on life at my infrequent whims.

This very feeling came over me the other day when she woke up from her nap and she and I decided to cuddle. The days of cuddling are getting few and far between. But the other day, she woke up crying and feeling a little yucky. I grabbed an old baby blanket and took her to the rocking chair I used to nurse her in when she was just a baby. I held her for a long, long time. As the minutes ticked by, I mourned the lost of each minute knowing she was eventually going to ask to get down. Each minute was a wretched preparation for this immense sense of loss I knew was imminent. She was going to have to get down, I knew that. I just felt like I couldn't let that happen.

All of a sudden I was so gripped with emotion and I couldn't hold back the sobs. It was no dainty, misty-eyed moment. It was downright sobbing. Fear consumed me all at once. My mind was flooded with questions - What if this is the last time she wants me to rock her? What if I forget how this feels? What if I never have another baby and this is it? How can I satisfy all my desires of wanting so many babies with this one child who barely fits on my lap now? I just wanted her to know how much I loved her. Although impossible, I wanted her to indulge me in this privilege of cradling her and understand why it means so much to me. I wanted to her to grasp the concept that her momma might never get to do this again and that all my desires for a huge family would have to be consumed with just her. I wanted her to promise me at that moment to allow me to hold her everyday no matter how big she gets.

You see, my earliest memory was me wanting to be a mom. A mom of lots of kids. Not being able to have more babies makes the desire to hold on to each memory of Audrey with perfect clarity even stronger. And as time ticks by, my memories aren't as clear. And as each day goes by without another baby, I grieve another memory lost of the only baby I do have. I get so incredibly fearful that I won't remember how her voice sounds as a toddler; the funny questions she asks; the way she sings Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee; the way she looks in her bed when you wake her up; how she looks when she gets out of the tub all wrinkly with the towel all around her; how cute a little pair of tights look laying out for Sunday morning; how she asks me so many questions about God that are impossible to answer even as an adult; how much she giggles when you let her zerbert you; the way she crawls into bed next to me on mornings I'm sick and she strokes my hair and says "you can do it, mom. I'll help you. Do you want me to pray for you?" 

Holding her in that moment, I was pleading with God. Of course, I selfishly was begging Him for more babies. But I also begged that Audrey would grow up to love and obey Him. I begged Him to preserve my marriage with the very man who helped me create this beautiful child and with whom I get the exciting privilege to parent with. I begged Him to help me to learn more deeply that my sufficiency is in Him - not in having babies, not in being a wife, not in having health. I begged Him to take away this fear in my heart, and that He would do whatever it takes to draw me closer to Him. But I begged Him to not totally take these thoughts and feelings away. Because, you see. I'm petrified that there is a day I will cross over that line of desiring babies to thinking I deserve babies. That I deserve anything. My life so often seems to revolve on all the things that aren't right or on all the things I wish were different - my house with rotting floors, my poor health, my cars that won't start, my inability to have children...... But I pray that I will remember I am a sinner saved by grace. I deserve NOTHING. It is God who gave me life. My life is already a picture of a cup running over. Doug and Audrey far exceed anything I could ask, imagine,or deserve.