Another big adventure

So, I leave Natty once again with Feli this morning for a "quick" trip to the city to drop off some stuff with the doctor. I find it strange that there isn't a whole lot of public transportation going into the city and decide to take one of the slower options cause I just need to get there. As we approach one of the major highways that all the buses take to get up into the city, there is a large march happening. I chuckle/groan inwardly at how easy it is for whomever to take over a major highway to protest whatever the flavor of the month is. We take some side roads and make it relatively quickly into the city. Then, I wait for eons for my doctor, learn some unsettling news (like I'll be at least one night, if not two in the clinic after my cerclage), and then head back out to grab public transport down. It's past lunch at this point, so I call Feli to tell her I'm on my way. As we approach the same section of town where there were marches, things get hairy. Now, all traffic is turning off the main road and creeping even higher up the side of the mountain to find back roads. Traffic quickly congests and the combo of a police truck 2 vehicles ahead, filled with armed, shielded police men and my bus driver turning off his engine make me think we're not getting anywhere soon, and I'm not sure I want to get where I'm going anyway if these heavily clad cops have anything to do with it. The minibus becomes silent except for the occasional grumbles of the driver saying that traffic isn't moving and it's not going up or down the intersecting street we are trying to reach. I hop off with some other passengers, hoping that nearby there'll be a break in the traffic where I can grab a cab. As I head down to the main avenue, I notice that all cars, everywhere, have stopped. People have turned off their motors and passengers from most public transport vehicles are spilling out onto the streets and wandering about like ants who have just had water thrown on their hill. I head in the direction of my car, about a mile or so down the road. As I walk, I realize that walking a mile, under normal circumstances, would have been quite pleasant, but is not a major "no-no" according to my doctor. I'm paranoid to walk to the little store around the corner from my house so this trek seems like too much. I call Scotty, who is far off in the jungle, to inform him of the chaos. Without even realizing it, God had worked things out ahead of time (as He does so well) to have me pop out right about at the street where one of our missionary families live. Scotty tells me not to walk to the car, but to walk to their house. So, I head up, noticing a large crowd of angry looking Bolivians holding signs and yelling obscenities...small children in tow. I stand a half block away, wondering if I should ask the phone repairmen next to me if they think it's wise to cross through. I decide to pray and walk quickly, not making eye contact. They ignore me as I hike uphill and turn a corner onto our friends' street. I'm praying they're home, realizing that after I hung up with Scotty, my phone was out of credit and there was no way to call anyone else. I ring the doorbell and the happy face of Kep pops out and invites me in with a smile, offers me lunch and refuge for as long as necessary. Hooray! So, I spend the next 3 hours or so with them, eating, reading, chatting and really wanting to be home with Natty. Periodically, we look outside their front door to see cars lining the streets at a dead standstill. An hour later, some of those guys have parked on the sidewalk and left their cars. Debbie takes a few of them who have been trying to get home to lunch for 2 hours some chocolate cake. She walks to the corner and finds the protesters have taken to sitting in the middle of the street and there is not a single back street that has not been blocked. This is pretty rare for this area of town and we're surprised by how no one seemed to know this was going to happen (usually blockades are actually advertised ahead of time, which I find amusing) and how well it was organized. Finally, Kep decides they need to start walking to the place they're supposed to be in an hour and Debbie reminds him that I'm kinda just stuck since I can't walk too far. He takes off to try to find an open spot and a free taxi and calls shortly to tell us he's got one reserved. We head out through the protesters again, the streets are littered with confetti and trash and people are still out in mass, heading every which way. Police have managed to get the protesters out of the main avenue and traffic is trickling through. We hit another mass of either protesters or people looking for rides a block down and then manage to cross through what normally is a busy intersection, but now is grid-locked. Thankfully, the direction we were going was not of interest to anyone- our lane was clear and the one going in the opposite direction was bumper to bumper of motionless vehicles. So, we make it to the taxi without having to walk too far and I'm off safely to my car which is parked in a part of town where there is next to never any issues. Then, I'm home 15 minutes later and so happy!! I left Natty at 9:30 in the morning, telling her I wouldn't be long and end up home by 4:30 in the afternoon. I've seen, tried to pass and been turned back by blockades before, but I think this is the first time I've been stuck in the middle of one! Hopefully, it will be the last for a while.

Big victories

I'm scheduled for a cerclage on Wednesday. For those of you who don't know what that is, I'll spare you the details and let you google it for yourself. A few weeks ago when I had my check-up with my OBGYN, she mentioned I would need a blood test and an ultrasound before we do the cerclage. However, she didn't bother to tell me what kind of blood test or give me any information regarding it. There's no call you receive from the dr.'s office to follow up with your upcoming procedure and make sure you have what you need in order. There's just you- making sure you're doing what you're supposed to be doing. So, I called my dr. this week to ask her what blood test I needed, since I wanted to be sure I had plenty of time to have the test done and receive the results before Wednesday morning. She's in a conference and won't be around until Monday, the voice on her cell phone informs me. Hmmm...that only leaves 2 days before the procedure for me to have the blood drawn and tested. Initially, I thought I'd wait and do what I could Monday, but my fore planning nature got the best of me and I decided to call the voice again and see what she could do for me. Now, before I continue on, the point of this blog is that all of this is a bit intimidating to me. All these interactions are done in Spanish and are a bit out of my comfort zone, as sometimes I'm not sure what or who to ask and how much to persist in trying to figure out what is supposed to be going on. On that note, I continue. So the voice explains that she's just the secretary (after I asked her if she was a doctor) and she gave me the number of the doctor who is taking my doctor's emergency calls this week. I call him and just as I'm about to hang up after a dozen rings, he answers, surely still in bed. I ask if he is the dr. I am looking for. He affirms, snorts a bit of phlegm into the voice piece (is that necessary?) and asks what I want. I explain that I am a patient of my doctor, that I'm having a cerclage on Wednesday, that I know I need a blood test, but I don't know which one. Would he happen to know?? (This is sounding even more ridiculous as I type). He's quiet for a moment, says he has no idea, and then guesses that it must be a standard, pre-op set of tests. He rattles them off to me (this is where my Spanish becomes quite lacking) and I ask if he can call my lab and dictate those to them. He tells me to have them call him when I get there. So, in the car, to the lab. Then, I'm sitting in front of the secretary in the lab saying, "I need a blood test. You have to call this doctor and explain to him that I am a patient of Dr. Zelada and am having a cerclage and he will tell you what I need. No, he doesn't know my name, but I just talked to him this morning. He is covering her patients while she's in a conference. No, I'm not sure if these are the tests that I need, I didn't really understand what he told me." Oh, my. She tries to call, but he doesn't answer. She says they'll take enough blood to do all the tests and then confirm with him later. So, while I'm getting stuck, I hear her on the phone confirming and all is worked out. Praise God! And, I find out it will be ready by tomorrow morning. So, I actually could have waited until my doctor was back in the office to tell me for sure what she wanted, but this way I can take up all of what I have for her to see on Monday and have everything set for the big day.

This was a huge accomplishment for me. To overcome my fear of talking to random doctors who don't know me and try to explain my unique situation is a big deal for me. Scotty is out of town and I'm feeling nervous about leading women's Bible study tonight, but I managed to make it happen and now I feel relief. Yay for the big victories.

Today.

It's been a while since I've left Mallasilla. Maybe about a week or so? I get to where I just feel so worn out that I have no desire to go anywhere or do anything away from home. Which means I've been in the house with Natty...A LOT. We've gone downstairs a few times to play in the bucket of water and once took a short walk to the nearby park, but I'm a bit limited physically in this pregnancy, so I haven't ventured to do much that requires a lot of effort. Today I decided I would leave her with our wonderful house help and make a short trip to the grocery store. What a relaxing trip! The weather is warmer now and the store is mostly empty mid-morning. I had a quiet drive there and then wandered leisurely up and down the aisles, mostly convincing myself I didn't need chocolate or ice cream or any other junk in the house. Then I rang up, had the bag boy carry the groceries to the car, and quietly drove home. I love being alone and quiet! My soul yearns for that time away from everything, even if it's just a 10 minute drive in the car. Sometimes I wonder if I don't enjoy being away from people too much. It can clash with ministry opportunities from time to time.

So, I continue to experience a lot of mental battles with regards to the pregnancy. I realized the other day that I was focusing so much on the "what ifs?" of the future that I wasn't noticing that God was giving me each day so far without complication. So, I made a mental note to begin each day asking the Lord to protect my unborn child and ending each day with thanks for doing just that. And, trying very hard not to think about anything any further than today. That has been very helpful and taken away a fair amount of concern. And, I must thank God for continually giving me renewed faith in His love and concern for us. My greatest desire, as with Zion, is that He will be seen as glorious through the journey with this new life.

Hotel Europa

Scotty and I decided to spend a night in a nice hotel downtown to celebrate our anniversary. We've never left Natty overnight with anyone before, so this was a big deal for all of us. Thankfully, we have some good missionary friends that live in Mallasilla and have a little 3-year old daughter who were happy to add to an already full house. We happily left her there to play and drove up in time to check-in and have a yummy buffet-style lunch. Our main reason for choosing this hotel was that they have a nice pool/spa/sauna area that is warm and comfy and relaxing. Since we live in La Paz, we had no desire to be outside the hotel much to see anything cause we've seen it all a million times before. After lunch we headed up to our room to digest. We found that the hotel was more than willing to give us the honeymoon special, which included a beautiful bouquet of flowers, his and hers robes, roses in the bathroom, rose petals and salts for the bath, chocolate covered strawberries and an entire bottle of champagne (which we didn't open since I'm pregnant and Scotty's not a big fan) and breakfast in bed (which we skipped so we could engorge at the buffet instead). All of this costs less than a normal night for two in the hotel! Doesn't make much sense, but a no-brainer for us. After sprawling on the bed for a bit, we felt like we were capable of moving again so we grabbed our suits and books and went downstairs to hit the indoor pool. When we came out of the elevator, we saw it was dark in the pool area. Upon checking, we were informed the pool is closed on Tuesdays- ALL DAY. Scotty and I exchanged angry/disappointed/unbelieving stares and sulked back to our room. I actually cried. The whole point of getting away and leaving Natty was to just relax and enjoy the amenities of the hotel. The idea of sitting in a hotel room, listening to the continual screams from the huge school below us, until dinner time, was not what we were going for. It was interesting to watch each other respond, both of us feeling like we are so frequently disappointed in a similar manner by things in Bolivia, and think about the counseling seminar we were just a part of. We learned that when the heat of life is pressing on you, you either have thorn tree responses (which I was struggling with) or fruit tree responses, which is due only to the work of the Holy Spirit in your life. We wanted to have fruit tree responses and I think we eventually got there- but we had to wrestle with a fair amount of irritation first. So, once we decided to stay and make the most of it (we were about to call the whole thing off), we had a great time. We read, we walked to a nearby coffee shop, I took a bath- the afternoon passed quite nicely. Then we went upstairs to a snazzy restaurant with live piano player and had a delicious dinner- best I've had in a long time. One of the things I was looking forward to the most was not being woken up at 6:30 by "mommymommymommymommy!" Of course, I expected to still wake up pretty early, as my body is now trained, but it sure was nice to just be able to lay there for a while before actually getting up. After another eating frenzy at breakfast we were happy to lay around for the rest of the morning and finish up the books we had brought. Then we actually were able to make it for an hour to the pool, order a quick lunch, and jet. What a nice time we had talking about important things, talking about not important things, playing Boggle, reading, resting, eating. I loved having Scotty to myself for a day and just doing whatever we wanted to do. After a busy last month, it was a much-needed time away.

Six years.

Today Scotty and I celebrate 6 years of marriage. Usually on this day, I look back over the last year to contemplate all that has happened and all that we have been through. I could have never guessed the roller coaster year that God had in store for us. Friends recently asked if we felt we had grown in our marriage through losing Zion and everything that followed. I think that time will show the ways that God has brought us to a deeper place in our relationship than we could have gotten to otherwise. One thing I can say is that my extreme sadness, tears, fears, doubts, anger, questions, and apathy brought out amazing qualities in Scotty that I had only a glimpse of before. Throughout the hard times, and they were terribly hard, Scotty was solid. He was patient with me. He let me cry for hours- sometimes leaving me alone, sometimes letting me soak his shirts. He didn't have any trite answers. He told me it would be OK when I didn't think it ever would again. He almost never pushed me to get "better" before I was ready. He talked about Zion. He held the house together when I didn't have the strength. He took care of Natty when I just wanted to sleep. He treated me with long-suffering that only a depth of love can when the darkness had settled and was not planning on lifting for any time soon. I am so grateful for this godly man that the Lord allowed me to walk through this short journey of life with. He challenges me to be a wife that reflects Christ and every day I pray that I might be more gracious, more forgiving, more submissive, more respectful- that my actions may further build the bond of "oneness" that is unique to marriage. After I woke up this morning, I thought how incredible it is that God led Scotty to his future wife only a month after embarking on this Bolivian adventure, and me to my future husband in only 6. He has been so good, so faithful to us and I trust He will continue to be all the days of our lives. I thank Him for allowing me 6 amazing, beautiful years with a man better than I could have imagined. I love you Scotty Miser!!

Life continues

I'm already unbuttoning my pants when I sit down. Is this normal at 9 weeks?? They say you get rounder faster with each pregnancy and I suppose I never regained the normal flat belly after Zion, but, really? The lady that cut my hair today asked me if this was my first child, before I mentioned that I was pregnant! How did she know??

Scotty and I said "see you later" to Coty and Beth Pinckney yesterday. We were very blessed by their visit and even though I was struggling with a fair amount of nauseousness and lots of sleepiness, I enjoyed every conversation and hug and meal and play time with Natty and time spent learning new sewing techniques. It was a great reminder of how intimately God can weave the body of Christ together, even when thousands of miles separate us. It was good to share the challenges of ministry and the great joys as well and be encouraged that what God has called us here to do is worth it and that it is good to be a part of God's kingdom coming on earth. Since we hadn't had a date for a couple of weeks, Scotty and I took advantage of our house help being here to watch Natty and went on a lunch date today. We decided to go downtown and check out a nice hotel where we've decided to celebrate our upcoming anniversary and eat at a beautiful cafe next door. The food was scrumptious and we were within walking distance of our favorite donut shop for a special treat afterward. I appreciate Scotty and the way he is willing to talk to me about everything and anything and the way he desires to be a better husband.

There is still much peace in my heart about the pregnancy. I give God all the glory for that- He knows that my tendency is fear and that many people would not blame me for it. But, He has graciously allowed me and is helping me to trust Him daily, even in those moments when something seems "off" in my body and I wonder if it is a forewarning of something bad. I still have moments when I'd really like to be out of Bolivia and dealing with the whole pregnancy in the states but have also come to strongly believe that whatever happens here is completely in God's hands and He has the power to control even how my doctor chooses to treat me. I pray often for wisdom as there looms ahead another surgical procedure to close up my womb, but still feel OK that the same doctor does that procedure. I can't say that I've thought or dreamed as much about this child as I have the others, but I hope as time goes on, the freedom and confidence to imagine this baby as part of our family will return. So, I fight to walk by faith and not by sight and to know that God is enough.

The news.

Well, now that the Facebook world has received the news that I'm expecting again, I can finally blog about the things that have been on my mind and heart in the last month that I've known. It's been hard to not blog about it! Let me tell you, nothing prepared me for the emotions and the fears that would flood over me upon realizing that I was indeed pregnant. We didn't really expect it to happen so fast and when it did, my first reaction was sadness. This seems contrary to what most people feel when they find out they're having a baby, but this was the overwhelming emotion. Mainly, it was just another reminder that Zion was gone and that I would never be carrying him in my womb. That's what I really wanted- was to somehow be able to put him back inside and keep going. I didn't want another person in there. A day or so after that, the fear set in. And it was strong. I was convinced I would miscarry or that the baby wouldn't make it full term or all manner of terrible things. But, it wasn't like a passing thought that I would deal with and it would go away for a time- it was constant. I had a total lack of joy and really a hard time even thanking God for this pregnancy because I was totally wanting to protect myself from the possible pain that could incur. It was not pretty. I spent a couple weeks just praying constantly for the Lord to give me peace and help me not to worry or wonder if I could go through all of this again. Out of the blue one day, I really felt that God met with me and put my heart at ease. He also convicted me quite a bit about the tendency I had to reserve my praise and thanksgiving to Him until I was more sure that things were going well. Life is a gift from the Lord and a miracle, but I was not receiving it as such. I wanted to hold on to and nurture my fear because I felt that once I started really believing things would be OK, they wouldn't be. God showed me first, my lack of faith, and then how I was really stealing from Him the glory He deserves for this unmerited gift. I should be rejoicing and sharing with the world how good my God is and showing them how worthy He is to be trusted with all things. My greatest hope with Zion's death was that his short life would not be wasted. Through him, I have learned to trust God in a whole new way, more deeply. And, I have learned to believe that He is a kind and loving Father, even when what happens in our lives doesn't feel like that. But, I wasn't living that out in this pregnancy and so forgetting one of the great things that Zion's life taught me. I know there will be a long road ahead and I am not always comfortable with Bolivia's medical system but I know that my God is with me and that He will work for my good.

So, that's the short of it. On the practical side, I find myself confined a lot to the house again- fighting the all-day yuck feeling and extreme tiredness. I half expected to see twins during our recent ultrasound because I was feeling so tired all the time, more so than I remember with the other pregnancies. What we saw instead was a tiny little baby- about a week younger (barely 7) than we thought- but with a clear heartbeat. That was a happy moment. Natty is excited about the idea of a brother or sister- mostly, a sister these days. Scotty and I are excited about the idea of going home in November to carry out the last half of the pregnancy there where I can be monitored more carefully and deliver in a place with higher medical standards. It will be wonderful to spend the holidays with family and to finally be able to shop in the US for baby stuff. :) So, I welcome your prayers for whatever God has for us ahead and look forward to rejoicing together when our new one is finally in our arms, even while we continue to hold tightly to Zion in our hearts.

SIM conference

Last week we attended our yearly SIM conference where all the missionaries in Bolivia gather together for a time of sharing, learning from the Word, games, times of prayer and lots of eating. We went to a new venue this year- a retreat center that used to be a boarding school and is a 5-9 hour bus ride between 2 major cities (neither of which is La Paz). Since we needed to go either to Cochabamba or Santa Cruz to catch a bus to camp, we chose Santa Cruz since neither of us have spent much time there and there were several families we hoped to spend some time with. So, we left 4 days early and managed to enjoy our time with those families, despite rain and very cold temps. I guess it actually helped us to be stuck indoors because if it were warm and sunny, like it is most of the year in Santa Cruz, we would have been out swimming and playing in water parks instead of hanging out with people. Then we boarded the bus and took off for Monte Blanco and a wonderful time of fellowship with our SIM family. I have always appreciated the diversity of our crew- in cultural, in personality, in backgrounds, in time on the field, etc. I have always felt loved but sensed that in a new way this year after our experience with Zion. We were able to see many that we had not seen since he was born and hear how often they had prayed for us and thought of us. I was moved to tears several times by people I know very little who have faithfully prayed and was reminded again of God's love for me shown through His servants.

One of my favorite evenings was when a group of us hiked up to a landing strip nearby to star gaze. I'm not sure I've ever seen so many starts, so clearly. The Milky Way, the southern cross, the big dipper. And this strange mix of feelings. At one moment I would feel, as cliche as it sounds, so small in comparison to this universe of stars and planets and creation that is so much greater than this world that fills my mind from day to day. And when I looked out at those stars, it was as if Zion was on the other side- billions of light years away from me. I never felt farther from him. Than, a nanosecond later, I would feel as if I was so close to the heavens that at any moment he might see me and wave. Before we hiked back down to camp, we sang the doxology and my heart was brought to praise again, despite how I might feel.

On a lighter note, a good third of our SIM Bolivia staff have gotten hooked on a board game called Settlers of Catan and so we decided to hold the first annual Settlers tournament. We didn't have enough time to really get too many games going that counted, but we had a lot of practice rounds and really enjoyed that. Natty had a blast in her "class" every morning and most afternoons and really seemed to come out of her shell around the other kids and the adults too. She's at a really fun age right now and a lot of people commented on how good, calm, and flexible she is. And it's true, mostly. I am so thankful for that.

Women's Bible study

I have to admit- there have been times in my life here in Bolivia where I just wonder why God has me here. I sometimes feel that I don't measure up as a missionary (I'm not always using the right standard) and have periods where I don't see any fruit from relationships I have with Bolivian women. That said, our Women's Bible study has been such a source of encouragement in this last year. We are currently going through a Beth Moore study called Jesus the One and Only, which has been insightful and challenging. Pretty much all the application questions she asks bring up issues revolving around Zion's death and the ensuing pain, but they are so good. One particular day in last weeks study talked about the healing of the woman who had been bleeding for 12 years and raising Jairus's daughter from the dead. Beth made the point of how limitless Christ's power is and had us write out all of the things that are facing us right now where we need to see God's hand at work in a mighty way. I had a fairly good number of them. Then, we were to read each one out and repeat to ourselves, "the power of Christ is sufficient". What a helpful and practical habit! I've found myself the rest of this week, as I've begun to worry about one thing or another, repeating, "the power of Christ is sufficient" and that brings so much peace! We got together in small groups at the end of the study and answered a few personal questions and then prayed for each other. One of the ladies in my group began coming to our church after everything happened with Zion and she wasn't aware of his existence. It felt so strange to tell her about this son that we had last year who died, in a calm voice- as if it had happened long in the past and I was over it. I felt like I wanted to explain to her how very much a part of my current life he is and yet I rejoiced in being able to share how much God has done in my heart. So, I am thankful for women's Bible study, for the friendships I have there and the openness. It often makes me feel that there's a reason for being here.

Still missing Zion...

We got back from another trip to Cochabamba yesterday. I decided to go with Scotty to his quarterly (they've been a bit more frequent recently) mission meetings because I was hoping to see 2 sets of people- one, a great couple that will hopefully be joining our team after they are done with language school and became instant grandparents to Natty when they were here for a visit less than a year ago; and two, a dear old friend and her family who was in Cochabamba for a visit. We set up with several mission families to spend Sunday at the lake outside of town where SIM owns a cabin. The spot is quiet, still and has a great yard for the kids to play in. There were 4 toddlers on site that day, so it wasn't as still and quiet as it could have been, but Natty didn't once complain of being tired even though she missed her afternoon nap all together. It was good to spend some time with these families that we enjoy so much but rarely get to see because of living in different cities. It was fun to watch Natty interact with other kids and do things she loves to do. I was thankful to be a part of a mission in which we are all different but all loving and serving Bolivia.

The few days passed quickly enough with good interactions with the very people I went to see. Natty had the time of her life, as usual, in the yard at the guest house. She was barefoot in the warm fall weather from morning to night and her feet were black with dirt all day. Up to this point, she has never been interested in swings at the playground, but she decided finally that she loves them and spent hours swinging on the tire swing in the backyard. I just enjoyed being outside in the warm days and mild nights. Nothing too exciting to report. Before we knew it, it was time to board the plane back to La Paz. Natty told me she was sad we were leaving...:( I found myself sitting in the airport, sad as well. But, not because we were leaving Cochabamba. For some reason, out of the blue, I felt so intensely the absence of my son. The memories of the few, precious days with him came flooding back. The momentary feeling of holding him- the desire to do it again. The longing to have him as a part of our lives. It was all so strong, so real. Sometimes those feelings seem to be in the background- always there- but less intense. Yesterday, they moved up to the foreground again. I'm thinking about him a lot today. I'm wondering if this will be how it is for the rest of my days. It's nice that those thoughts are just sad- they aren't angry or questioning or doubting or bitter-usually... God has given me a strong peace, a lack of answers in some regards, but peace and trust. I am thankful to Him for that because I know it is only from Him that it comes. I've seen the depths of my natural man and it is only God that can bring light there. He is good.

Mother's Day

The last few days have been full of some tough memories. Not really because of mother's day, since we celebrate a different day in Bolivia, so I wasn't really even aware until I started noticing posts on facebook. Instead, I have a very dear friend in town that I haven't seen for 2 years and we took her and her family over to our land where Zion is buried to show them his grave. She had brought a rock from her home to place on the special spot and then we spent some time talking about the events of his death and the days following. It was as if we were reliving those days together, crying together, grieving together- something we couldn't do when it was all happening but somehow came naturally at that moment. It was a special time to share together, but left me feeling heavy that evening and so much more aware than I have been for a long time how much I miss my little boy and how hard it is to deal with disappointed dreams. I woke up today, 6 months exactly after Zion died, still feeling the weight of sadness that can consume everything else in life. Thankfully, the depth of those hard emotions don't last as long as they used to, and I began feeling better after spending some time playing with Natty and hanging out with Scotty. I was nervous about the plans we had later this morning to go back to the clinic where I was on bed rest to pick up my medical history. I knew seeing that place for the first time since I left- a place where I had prayed and hoped for the life of my child, where I felt sure that I could keep him inside for long enough, and where I also experienced a tremendous amount of fear- would be hard. So, with Natty and Scotty along for moral support, we entered into the quiet clinic and searched around for someone to help us. The place is small and not busy because of the nature of the business (plastic surgery), so Scotty had to wander down a hall to find a nurse. Just the nurse, it happens, that took such good care of me and encouraged me that all would turn out all right in the end. I even told her I'd come back one day with my little boy and show him off to her. But, it turns out that I returned empty handed and had to see that look again that so many people have shown me when I answer their question of, "how is the baby??" with a shake of my head and an explanation that he didn't survive. Then I saw the doctor that took care of me, and even the girl who brought me food. They were all there and it felt like I had been wheeled out only yesterday. Scotty and Natty went out into the yard to play while I waited inside for them to find my records. I contemplated all that has happened since then and was thankful for the peace that has replaced most of the anger, the fear, the hurt and the confusion. Those feelings still come from time to time, but the deep faith that God has given me through the journey outweighed what I knew to be the natural reactions of a sad mommy. I know God is with us, I know He loves us, I know He loves my son and my family, I know He was in it all. I don't feel the need to ask "why?" anymore, even though I never got a clear answer. At least I can see more clearly now the gift God has given me in the pain- an ability to trust Him more, a recognition of how desperately I need to cling to Him alone, an understanding that my life is in His hands and out of my control.

IBM Camp 2011

I'm sitting in bed listening to the ongoing festivities to celebrate both Bolivia's labor day and Mallasilla's anniversary. Across the town from us, in front of the Catholic church, is the yearly 3-day drunk fest, complete only with extremely loud music, dancing and partying into the wee morning hours. Thankfully, we missed the majority of it since our IBM camp fell on these dates this year, but it looks as though we'll have to hear a few more hours of drunk ballads before it's all said and done. We got a late start leaving camp and the fog set in just a bit into the uphill return to La Paz. This particular road, nestled between high mountains and deep ravines, is prone to getting fogged in and being fairly dangerous. It was about dusk when we hit this, so before long it was densely foggy and dark. As we neared the cumbre, the highest point in the department of La Paz, the sky began to drop freezing rain and the road soon became covered in a layer of ice. The defrost on our 1995 Toyota Caldina doesn't work, so Scotty spent about half an hour wiping the inside of the windshield with a paper towel and driving about 10mph. We were both pretty tense and praying without ceasing. Following somewhere behind us were 2 bus fulls of campers and several other personal vehicles carrying our beloved church family. God led us through safely and we are praying He did the same for them as well.

Camp was a blast. There was very unseasonal rain and/or cloudiness for most of the 3 days in the jungle, but at least it kept the temps down. Bugs were at a minimal as well. We had a variety of people this year, including a group of about 25 shoe shiners who are being reached through a ministry some good friends of ours started called Kayuparu. They brought a lively dynamic and with about 7 of them on our team, we won the games competition. Bolivians can get pretty stuck on the fact that Scotty is almost 2 meters (6'8" ft.) tall, so decided our team should be called the giants. We quickly found out that another team had named themselves the same, so we ended up being the midgets- the jokes were endless... Besides hilarious games, our pastor spoke twice on the book of Joshua and the devoted Christian life, we ate lots, we waited around lots for food to be prepared, we chatted and got to know each other better. Today we had a special time of baptism. It never fails to move me to see the lives that the Lord has changed in drastic ways. The pastor's brother and his wife were baptized, both recently coming to the Lord. The wife became interested in spiritual things first and quickly began soaking up the Word and the change in her life was quick, obvious and dramatic. Her simple and deep faith is amazing to see. She began to pray for her husband and, although it took a bit of time, he came out of the water today with his hands raised in the air in triumph and joy. I think we were all in tears as he hugged his brother, our pastor, in gratitude. 2 shoe shiners were also baptized- young men who have years ahead to experience the power of God's amazing grace in lives that were so very lost. It's such a gift to see the way God has been at work in people in our church and is bringing new people in continually through His moving in their hearts. Every year I'm excited about church camp, but a bit nervous because I fight my own desire for punctuality, comfort and a bug free existence. But every year the Lord reorganizes my priorities and encourages me in the work we are a part of- because He is the one ultimately who is doing it and it is beautiful.

Day trips

The last week has been a busy one, but fun. Wednesday we decided to take the two youngest daughters of our house help to the jungle. They love Natty and Natty loves them and they all love monkeys...perfect! So, we drove down the windy road with several thousand feet drop-offs on one side until we arrived at the Green Path- an animal rescue/lunch/hostel place. We toured around to see the various tucans and parrots, one friendly cotimundi, a ton of turtles, some guinea fowl and a couple friendly monkeys. We all got our chance to hold the monkeys- one big, black one and one tiny squirrel one- the girls were enchanted. After lunch we went down to the river, found a quiet spot, and splashed around in the water for an hour or so. Again, the girls were delighted. The ride back was a pretty quiet one with the girls sacked out in the back and a steady climb back to altitude. Friday, a friend from church who lives in the neighborhood called to invite us to lake Titicaca for the day to eat trout. Since Scotty was preaching on Sunday, we left him home to work while Natty and I joined our friends and another family from church for the drive out. Traffic was heavy since Holy Week is a big travel week here, but we made it to the hotel on the water where we enjoyed a tasty lunch and then time out in the yard out back to play and look at the gorgeous blue lake. It was a perfect day- warm enough to be comfortable but always with a cool breeze. We got a short boat ride and I enjoyed spending time with 2 ladies while Natty played with the other kids. Easter Sunday I was helping out with the toddlers Sunday school while Scotty preached. We invited our pastor and his family over for lunch and they hung around into the evening. We introduced them to Easter egg hunting, which their 4 year old and Natty greatly enjoyed, and spent the rest of the afternoon eating and chatting. It was good to see the 2 kids interacting, even though neither one had much of an idea of what the other was saying. Kids don't seem to mind these things.

Yesterday I saw my doctor. It was the first time since shortly after Zion died that I had seen her and it took a fair amount of mental exercise to not let myself slip into a dark place as everything in her office and she herself remind me of my little boy and his quick life. As I waited in one of the private rooms, I kept reminding myself of how God redeems all things and that I shouldn't expect things to go as poorly next time. However, after chatting about the strict restrictions that she wants me to be guided by and the continual reminder of medical care that just isn't up to American standards, I left a bit concerned and pensive. It's hard not to fear what next time will be like and to realize that living on the 3rd floor will probably keep me mostly housebound. Can I even get pregnant again? How long will it take? So many questions and doubts and fears. Again, I took a moment to remember that God is big and that He is capable of working in a mighty way in our lives and in my body. Fear and doubt is never helpful. Scotty and I long for more children. Natty is anxious for a sibling. And yet, we must wait. What does God have for us in the waiting? I want to learn to be content in Him, not in my circumstances, since I've finally come to understand that they can't always be as I would like them. It's a good and a hard lesson.

Five months

Sometimes I wonder if I don't have some kind of internal clock that can sense when another month has gone by since Zion died. It seems like I'll start having a clump of tough days where I just feel down and I'm thinking more of Zion and than I'll realize that another month has passed since his birth or his death. This week has been particularly difficult and culminated this morning with a good, long cry. I started missing him a lot in the last few days and began to think about him as we took a walk together with Scotty and Natty. One of the tougher aspects of all of this has been the very different ways Scotty and I have individually dealt with it and when moments arise that those differences become more pronounced, the sadness becomes stronger as well. It's hard to walk through the valley of grief with your spouse on a separate path. Anyway, there's this funny thing that happens sometimes when the bad dream feeling goes away and is replaced by that fresh, like-it-happened-yesterday feeling where I am back in the NICU with Zion, praying for him, watching the doctors work on him, riding up the elevator to see him and wondering how he'll look, and then holding him for the first time while he died. I can't make myself feel those things, even when I try, and other times I can't help but be there all over again. It nearly takes my breath away. Anyway, as rough as it is to go through that, even as I cry, I realize it's still a step forward. All that I've heard and read about grief reminds us that things can go from OK to awful in no time at all. So, I like to believe that the intense feelings of sadness are only moving me forward as I continue to work it all out. One thing feels different than it did at the beginning- the ability to believe it will be alright in the end. And, as it always has, the idea of Zion living it up in heaven, avoiding all the suffering we are going through right now, is a happy thought.

We visited a lawyer yesterday who works with adoptions. She didn't have a lot of new things to tell us but helped to confirm what we knew already about the adoption process. One, that it is very long and you're basically at the mercy of the judge to pick out what baby she feels is right for you. You don't see any babies beforehand and you only have the choice of sex and a ball-park age range. Although this lawyer said the children are screened for physical and mental handicaps and that you shouldn't be offered one that has either (what do they do with those kids??), I have heard of foreign adoptive parents finding otherwise. So, we're praying about when to start the process- whether it's something we want to try to start soon or wait a bit on. We're excited about the idea but I have to say I wish there were some things that were a bit clearer to make me feel more in control. I'm a little nervous about getting a child who has been in an orphanage that has a no-touch policy, realizing that a lack of touch can have great negative affects on a child as early as within the first few weeks of life. But, all these things we'll have to trust the Lord on since we don't have much of a choice. It's interesting how he sometimes makes it very clear that we don't have a say, other than the way we choose to respond to a situation. Maybe it's better that way...

Love and Death

I have been struggling the last few days with understanding- understanding God, His love, His goodness and why Zion had to die. The last few days haven't been those "help me to understand, God" type days, but the kind that are a little more conflicted and blaming. The kind where I don't really want to understand what the truth might be because it's easier just to be mad. I don't like being in this place. I'm part of a forum of woman online who have all lost children and most of them have miscarried or lost infants at least 5 times. They have had to live this nightmare more than once. And we all struggle with the same questions. As I was confronted with such loss, I asked God again, "how do love and death go together??" God immediately quieted my heart as I realized the utter obviousness of the answer to this question. God used the death of His son to display the greatest love for His children. Christ came to a fallen world. His death seemed premature to those around him and it was even accomplished by the hand's of sinful men. I'm sure all who knew and loved Jesus wondered to themselves and each other in those days before He came back to life how God could possibly let that happen. Obviously, Zion's death was not to bring salvation to the world, but I have to believe that just as God displayed His love for us in Christ's death, He has purposed to do that in Zion's as well. God is love and He is incapable of doing something that is not loving. I don't understand the "why" and I might continue to wonder all the days of my life for what reason my son died but my prayer is that God will reveal His love through it and redeem the pain.

Really?

Please check out this incredible house in the countryside that we passed near the ecology fair. Hot pink. Addidas emblems larger than life on both sides. A strange, different-colored section on the top. Really...what were they thinking?

Ecology fair

I want to keep people informed of how Scotty and I are doing in this whole grieving process. I find myself, who rarely stops typing to think very hard about what I want to say, feeling a bit void of words or the ability to express where we are right now in this journey. I can confidently say each week is a tiny bit better, but the general malaise that seems to come as you work through losing someone, has stuck. I have felt God's presence in special ways and I have felt the roots of my faith grow a little bit deeper, but I am far from where I hope to be when it is all said and done. I still have some pretty big questions about God and how He chooses to work in our lives and how the acceptance of His control, even in the death of my son, affects my future and the future of our family. I am fighting to believe He is good and that He wants good for us. I am fighting a fatalist few of the future (i.e. why bother praying if God is going to do what He wants anyway?). I can easily spot my faulty theology and the beliefs that are based on fear, but I can't seem to overcome them yet. My hope is that with time, God will make all things right, even the thoughts in my head. There is hope. I believe with all my heart that my life and my family will be forever changed for the better through losing Zion. I believe we will appreciate and glory in our children in a way we never would have before. And, I believe God has made clear to us through this that He's chosen to bring at least one child into our family through adoption. Those are good things that I have hope will happen. So, I lumber on- some days a bit blue and apathetic, other days able to see more clearly the love of God showered on me in so many different ways.

Scotty and I have found a new route up to El Alto, where our airport is located. We gave it a test run the other day and enjoyed the trip up and back through a green, hilly, country community called Achocalla that is resting on the side of the mountain that brings us up almost 2,000ft. from where we live to El Alto. On our way down, we noticed there was an "ecological fair" being held today and so we went with Natty to check it out this morning. We got primo parking at the top of the dirt road that led down to the main plaza where the fair was to be held. We ambled down past grazing sheep and enjoyed a spin around the booths selling fresh produce (picked up some radishes and chard), baked goods, quinoa products (got a nice cake and some dulce de leche with quinoa), cheeses, fresh yogurt, and plants. I think our biggest score was some tasty, low-fat, stevia leaf sweetened, strawberry quinoa yogurt. To our great dismay, we've been informed by those who should know that the stevia sold in Bolivia and "made in Bolivia" is, in fact, not stevia. There are no processing plants here and although the plant is grown in abundance, there is no way to turn it into the little, white, sweet powder that charmed and amazed us. So, we've tossed all our Bolivian "stevia", which has been proven to be nothing more than chemicals (there are no truth in advertising laws in Bolivia). Boo. Anyway, we were happy to learn this yogurt was made with the leaf, and not any sort of refined stevia sugar. We made short work of the small fair and got our fill of free samples and then trudged back up the road to the car. When we got to the small grassy spot where we had parked, we noticed a neat row of cars parked behind us. With about 2 feet in between each car. The nice policeman who had given us permission to park there, when asked why he let a row of cars block us in and what we were to do about it, gave a shrug and said, "Oh...I guess you'll have to wait cause those guys have all gone down to the fair." Realizing that "those guys" could be at the fair for a few minutes or long enough to eat lunch, Scotty set off to ask 200 people who owns the black station wagon blocking us in and if they could come move it. I sat sulking on the side of the road, glaring at the policemen who had no concern for the fact that a whole row of cars were trapped and prayed that Scotty would find the culprits. He came back shortly and admitted that there was no way he would be able to find the owners of the car. However, when he was gone, a couple returning from the fair were loading their goods in the back of the car next to us and we realized they had enough room on the other side to possibly wiggle their way out and give us the room to wiggle out too. We found out they weren't the owners (and didn't know how to drive), but after a bit of begging, they allowed Scotty to take the key and maneuver his way out- a slick, 25-point turn- and then we were free! So, a successful end to a fun trip- but one of those annoying things about living here that I don't think I'll ever get over.

Family day

We've had a long few weeks. Errands and guests over for meals and helping out friends and play dates and friend dates and meetings and Bible studies and stuff. I've been busier the last 2 weeks then I have been in a long, long time. It's nice, on the one hand, but it doesn't take too long before I find myself anxious and tired and sad and needing some serious downtime. Today begins a 4-day national holiday and we committed as a family to just spend the day together. We woke up and spent an hour or so playing in bed with Natty, drinking coffee, reading books, being silly. That's my favorite family activity. After breakfast we went off for a good walk and a play on the land. Going to the land (the property we own a block from our house) is Scotty's favorite thing to do and he tries to go over and move dirt or chop logs or stir up compost at least once or twice a week. Sometimes Natty goes and plays in the dirt and comes home much dirtier than she would if Mommy were watching her. Today we all decided to go and I spent some time by Zion's grave thinking about him and missing him a lot. Natty brought a rock over to put on his grave and said she wanted to touch him. I do too. Then we spent a half hour or so digging holes with hand shovels and filling them with dirty water than shoveling out mud and making neat patterns in the dirt. I suppose that's what people do who don't have Wii... Natty loved it and it was nice to all be outside together dreaming in our individual ways of what it might be like to have a house there one day. I can't think about the house and not think about Zion being buried next to it instead of playing inside or running around outside with his siblings. But, it was nice to be with Natty next to where he is buried and feel like he was kinda there with us. I went home and cooked up a nice spaghetti and now it's nap time. Scotty is sitting next me on the couch- he's reading me excerpts from a text book on radiant floor heating and I'm reading snippets to him from a blog on adoption. We're getting more serious about adopting down the road and are starting to look into what our options might be. We're very curious about adopting a Bolivian child and know it might mean more headache or heartache or both, from what we've heard, but are hoping we can talk to a lawyer before too long and see what all it entails. I'm not sure what the rest of the day holds, but it's nice to sit and relax with my family and just be. Zion is still continually on my mind and I miss his presence especially on days like this when it's just us.

Snow day.

Well, not really, but that's what Scotty calls days when there's a strike and public transport and a lot of other things around the city shut down. Most of the time, private vehicles are allowed to circulate, and today was no exception. I wanted to mention a couple interesting things I saw today. The first is something I've seen many times before when the public transport has decided to strike (today they are demanding higher wages/passage fares): men with sticks and rocks standing at the entrance to our neighborhood. What are they doing with those sticks and rocks, you ask? Well, they plan on throwing the rocks at any public transportation vehicle that is running and then taking the driver out and beating him with sticks. Sometimes it's just a threat, sometimes they mean it. I don't want to be around when they mean it. I might have mentioned before that we have a car that is the same make and model as many taxis around here and we are often momentarily mistaken as taxis, i.e., public transportation. I always go very slowly through this intersection when those rock-bearing men are around so they get a good look at my obvious gringa-ness and realize I am no threat to their strike. So- we found all things calm when we arrived downtown and less traffic to deal with. Our purpose was to pick up visas that Scotty was told would be ready today. This is the first time we haven't worked with someone to do our visa paperwork, which usually is better off done through someone else who has connections in immigration and knows how the system works. However, our president is continually changing the system and the people who are working in it, so no one really knows what is going on. Therefore, it's easier to do it yourself, even if it can be a bit of a wild goose chase. Miraculously, he was able to go downtown only 2 or 3 times, collect up all the stuff they asked for, turn it in and they gave him the date it would be done! We went in expecting to pick them up and they said our paperwork had been "under observation" because we were missing 2 very important things. The guy pointed to a sign taped to the glass window that mentioned following up on your paperwork for this very reason. However, it's not a notice you're likely to notice because it's tucked on a window that is usually behind a long line of people doing their own paperwork and you would never have been able to see it, nor do they refer you to it when you turn in your stuff. Also, once Scotty had gathered everything together they asked for, turned it in and gotten a specific date when the visa would be ready, he didn't think it would be necessary to come back and ask, just in case. Right? Not right. So, not such a big surprise and he'll be back on Monday to turn in what should be the last of the requirements. When we got back to the neighborhood, all the men were still around and now burning a tire.

The other interesting thing I saw on the way home was an orphanage. My good friend Andrea had lovingly searched for a place that could take all the milk I had painstakingly pumped and stored while Zion was alive. She had heard of this particular orphanage near where we had lunch and told me that it was surprisingly nice and that all the babies seemed to be clean and happy. A lot of places that take babies don't take awesome care of them and tell their workers not to touch them because once they've experienced touch, they will want more and there isn't enough help to go around- so they don't want all the babies to freak out about it. Sad. Anyway, the most amazing thing about this place is the little turn-box in one of the front windows right along the sidewalk. The home is located on a main drag in town and anyone who wants/needs can tuck their baby in this box and rotate it in toward the inside of the building and walk away. I wish it were so easy to get babies out this same way. Scotty and I have always considered adoption and since we lost Zion, I have wondered if God isn't pushing us again to think about it and act on the desire He has given us. However, we've heard it's next to impossible to adopt from Bolivia as an American. I still think we'll go back to this home and check it out and see if they can hook us up with a lawyer. And maybe, just maybe, they'll have a baby that we can pick up and take home without any hassle...

Redemption

So, we just got spanked at euchre again by Scotty's parents. We almost won...for real. So, after saying good-bye, I find myself still up after some people have gone to bed- a twist on the usual. I'm not a night person. I've been thinking about writing a blog about something I've been thinking about, but feel like it's one of those ideas that only the tip of your brain grabs a hold of and you're not sure you even totally understand it, much less are you capable of expressing it to other people. But, I'll try. So, I've found as I grieve that it's incredibly helpful to hear the stories of other moms and dads who have lost children as well. The ups and downs they experienced, the lessons learned, the real, rawness of their hearts. I hope my blog will one day serve the same purpose to another poor soul who will forever have a piece of her missing. And then I realize again that even though I can relate to these women, they can't walk in my shoes with me. Grief is a solitary experience. So then I get sad thinking about that and have to remind myself that the Lord is here and that He knows what I am going through. But that feels different because He hasn't written a blog about it... You know what I'm saying? It just doesn't feel as tangible. But I know that the suffering the Lord has endured is completely incomparable to what I am going through now. I was talking to the Lord about this the other day and still wanting to feel convinced that we're in this together. Then I had an idea. It might not be a completely theologically correct one, so bear with me. If Christ's death on the cross was God's plan to redeem man and be a sacrifice for sin once and for all- that must include the effect of sin on the world, right? In other words, because Adam and Eve (who I am really unhappy with right now) chose to disobey God, sin and brokenness entered the world and terrible things happen that aren't in line with God's expressed will- like natural disasters and babies dying. So, when Christ died, was it not only for the sins that people commit but for the terrible things that happen as a result of sin- like Zion's death? If that's the case, as I have always imagined it, at some point as He hung on that cross taking on the sins of all His children from all time, He also took on the death of my son and experienced that pain. So not only does He know it but He's felt it. He's felt what I'm feeling and we're in this together. It's nice to have that great Someone to walk through this with and I pray He will continually strengthen my faith and hope to remember that He is here.

What's new

Papi and Natty time.

Blackberries!

Cook-out with our favorite Cochabambinos.

Grass at the guesthouse.

Taking off from El Alto- a plateau at 14,000ft.

Well, I don't have much profound to say today...I'll save that for another time when I've had a few quiet moments to think about what might be going on in my mind and heart with regard to Zion.
Today, I'll just fill you in a bit on what we've been up to- just for the sake of those who kindly check my blog and want to know how we are doing. We just returned from 6 days in lovely Cochabamba. The weather was on and off rainy all week, which made for just enough sunny and warm days along with some nice, cooler, rainy days that were perfect for book reading, or when Natty was up, movie watching. Scotty was in meetings for the mission from morning to dinner time, so the in-laws and I enjoyed hanging around the SIM guest house. My favorite part is the beautiful, large, grassy yard. Natty woke up every morning and immediately demanded that we go outside. Most days she could roam with bare feet and would run as fast as her chubby legs would take her to chase after a bird or look for the dog or just because she could. One day, she spent an hour or so throwing her dog to me and then dramatically falling down and rolling around in the grass when she missed catching him as I returned the throw. On one of the walls was a glorious blackberry vine that she would also insist that we pick from anytime she noticed or thought about it. Scotty's parents happily took care of Natty one morning while I went to the used clothing section of the cancha- Cochabamba's enormous market. It was a joy to be by myself and slowly browse the stores without interruption. And, Scotty and I even managed a date at our favorite restaurant. Other than this trip, we have been mostly around the house or nearby running errands. Every room in our apartment now has a couple painted walls, thanks to my father-in-law and Natty continues to enjoy the extra playmates that our parents have been to her. IBM's women's Bible study started up last week with a whopping 20 ladies in attendance! We'll be studying Beth Moore's Jesus the One and Only in Spanish and I'm looking forward to getting back in touch with some of the women from church through this time together every 2 weeks. I also feel like Spanish sounds like a foreign language again because of how much time I've been with my English speaking family and really need the speaking outlet. Natty is as pleasant as ever- we are oh so grateful for the lovely personality God has given her. She has just started the "why" phase- asking that often complicated question about half the time we tell her something. She loves Clifford books, playing in dirt and water, taking walks, sculpting with play-doh, eating and dancing/singing. She's starting to enjoy other kids more, too, and I am thinking of finding a class to enroll her in after our parents are gone in order for her to have a more creative outlet and make new friends. Overall, we are feeling so thankful for the time we've had together as a family and know it was so important for us as we continue to wonder what the future looks like for us and our ministry. Thanks for continuing to pray.

One day...

I've been feeling bad lately about not blogging- knowing that many of you are wondering how I am doing (thank you). I have to tell you that I haven't had much of a chance to process how I am doing at the moment. My parents were here for almost 3 weeks, we had 4 days to clean and prepare for my in-laws visit, and now we are busy hanging out with them. Both visits have been wonderful and such a blessed time to see our families and do everything and nothing with them. Neither set have much interest in travelling or filling up the time with touristy things so we spend the days running errands, playing play-doh, cleaning, cooking, eating, and just "being". It's nice and I'm happy to have this large chunk of time filled with something so easy and important as spending quality time with your family is. So, all that to say, I haven't really focused much on my feelings or where I stand in the grieving process. I know that there are still many sad days and moments. I know I still miss Zion so, so much, think about him constantly, imagine what it might have been like had he been here at this time, remember the few and precious days we had with him and what it felt like to touch him, wonder what the future will be like without him and what it might turn out like as we think about having more kids down the road, and generally feel like my life will never be the same. That I know. Without needing to think about it too hard, I also know that God is working in my heart to help me come to a better place about it all. I don't understand it any better than I did, I still don't think whatever I might learn is worth it, but I am starting to really believe that one day it will be OK. And one day I will see and experience and proclaim that good has come from it. And one day my faith will be so much deeper than it could have been if it hadn't happened. One day things will feel normal again. I suppose I believe this now because God has allowed me to experience tiny glimpses of it. Glimpses of hope and joy that I haven't experienced until recently. I know the journey continues to be long and as I am quite accustomed to now, the path might be smooth and relatively straight for a bit and then it suddenly and unexpectedly takes a sharp turn and becomes dark and full of pot holes. But, I can walk in the dark and hope for the light, believing it will come.

Quiet

It's so very quiet today. My parents went to the airport early this morning to return home. It was a wonderful visit and I already miss their presence in the house. Natty misses them too, although I can tell she doesn't exactly know how to express it. The morning was busy cleaning up and almost finishing my second sewing project (much harder than I expected) then going to the packed pool to be totally and completely annoyed by the kids there. There's absolutely no managing of spaces for those of us who would like to swim laps and are paying good money every month to do so. Grrrr... I was reminded as I drove home in a cloud of aggravation of the sermon Scotty preached on Sunday. He used a guy holding a cup of water as an illustration. The cup is our heart and the water is what we fill it up with. Scotty would bump his arm and the water would spill out. He explained that life is going to give us bumps of all kinds and what is stored up in our heart is going to spill out, either blessing those around us with clean water, or getting everything all dirty and yucky with the sewer water that comes out when we haven't spent enough time in the Word and prayer. I was seeing a lot of stinky water coming out today. Anyway...it's quiet now. Scotty is running errands and Natty is napping. I am thinking of Zion. I'm tired of being sad and yet, I know it is necessary. I want to move forward in life, but I'm not sure exactly where I need to go next. I should be involved in community again but I'm pretty sure people aren't too sure how to interact with me, nor I with them. I guess I'm just trying to figure out how to do life now. How do I allow myself to be sad while still spurring myself on to have relationships and get out of the house so I'm not swallowed up by the sadness? How do I express my emotions and share my thoughts without making people uncomfortable? When is it better to just not bring it up? Grief leaves you in this strange, separate state. I was reading lately how a person who is grieving will always do it differently than someone else because we are all unique. You can build community around you to go through the grief with you by sharing your feelings and letting people hurt with you. But, ultimately, you will always do it alone because no one will understand the pain like you do or know exactly what it is like. It's a lonely road. Even Scotty has no idea what I'm going through. Too easily I forget that God knows. He not only knows what it's like to lose a son, He knows me intimately and personally. I need to work on trusting that, even when I'm not sure what to do with it. I need to really believe that God knows what I need and will give that to me.

Music

We got home from a short trip to Lake Titicaca this afternoon. Leaving yesterday mid-morning, we were excited to introduce our parents to this beautiful, enormous lake that has always been one of our favorite places to go for short little trips outside the city. We were praying for good weather, as it is rainy season now, and it's cold and not so pretty at the lake when it's raining. We had a mix of both and a nice time of relaxing, throwing rocks in the lake (Natty's favorite pastime) and Scotty and I did a tough hike to the top of a nearby hill. We had yummy, fresh trout and generally enjoyed the beauty of the Andes of Bolivia.

Tonight we're all pooped and I decided to take some time to myself to read and listen to a few of the new CD's that dear friends sent me for Christmas. One is JJ Heller's "When I'm With You". I noticed when I first got it, as I was reading the lyrics before actually hearing the music, that there was a song she had written for a little girl baby who had died shortly after birth. I found the blog about Olivianna and have related much to the families struggles and grief in the time after they lost their precious daughter. Tonight I listened to the song and found it could have been written for my Zion, just changing the name and the length of time spent on earth. It was so very hard to hear but so good, too. When life gets busy, the freshness and reality of my son can fade a little, even though the emptiness remains. Sometimes I need that new reminder of how real he was/is to match up with the hurt that remains in my heart for things to feel right- somehow. Appropriately, the next song on the CD is called "No Fight Left". The lyrics perfectly describe how I often feel:

"It's hard to tell if my eyes are open

when all I see is dark.

And it's easy, it's easy to lose my step...

There is no fight left on the inside

But maybe that's where I should be

I've given up trying

I'm giving it all to you

And I used to dream of a life so lovely

there'd be no room for tears

Now letting go, yeah,

letting go is the hardest part..."

Letting go is the hardest part. Isn't that right? I don't ever want to let go of Zion. Sometimes I fear that his memory is being lost or that by being more busy than sad, I am erasing his valuable existence... I know that God does not ask me to give up the memory of or love for my son, but my desire to control how it all turns out. My thoughts are a bit of a jumble tonight...I just miss Zion.

Wrestling and Learning

Loss strips you. It takes away the superficial pillars that you leaned on for happiness. It makes you question everything you always thought you believed but when tested by fire, you realize how shallow that belief was because it was never tried. It makes you realize that maybe your hope was not where you thought it was but was mostly based on your situation, the blessings God had given you, or the people around you that made you content. It's like God removes the false front of your life that you always thought was real and shows you the disaster that was behind and then asks you if you still trust Him. And sometimes the front is your true reality, it's the only thing you've experienced, it's valid. But, maybe it's not meant to last. Maybe you need Someone to show you that your faith isn't as deep as you thought or give you the opportunity to make it more firm and lasting. Ever since Zion died, I've been wrestling with questions about who God is and how He interacts with His children. I'm asking Him and myself questions that I thought I had answered. I believe He is in control and totally sovereign and ordains all events- so how does that truth also blend with the truth that He is good and loving? Although I know it is a mystery we won't ever fully understand on this side of eternity, I know these things go hand in hand without contradicting each other. But, I don't always feel that way. There's a song we keep singing at church lately that I can only sing half off. The beginning talks about spending one moment with God and how it doesn't matter what happens or what we have to wait for if we can just spend a moment with Him. I don't agree. It DOES matter what I go through- it does matter what I have to wait for. If someone had asked the writer of that song, "would you be willing to sacrifice your son for one moment with the Lord?" I'm pretty sure he would not answer, "it doesn't matter- as long as I get my one moment." So, I have a hard time with that and I ask myself, "is that wrong?" Is it wrong to not want to give up my loved ones? Does God ask us to give up our loved ones to spend a moment with Him? Thankfully, He doesn't always. He freely gives of Himself whether we sacrifice or not. It is not a result of what we do, but of His grace. However, I know that He has asked a great thing of us in giving Zion. I was wondering as I tried to sleep last night how taking Zion was part of a loving plan. I believe God loves me, but I am desperately trying to understand that love in the death of my son. It dawned on me that maybe God is using my child to try to teach true happiness- which is a loving thing. As long as my happiness is based on my relationships, the health of those I love, how easy life is- I will be disappointed. If I begin to realize that God's glory is my ultimate good and joy (Man's chief end is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever- Westminster Shorter Catechism), than that is a good and loving lesson to teach me. And, I know that the Lord has formed every one of us and numbered our days. He numbered Zion's days to 18 and when he reached that number, his purpose was complete. He was used for a noble purpose- for many that I might never know. But, I believe loving me by showing me that my happiness might have been put in the wrong place, was one. I don't want to miss the purpose God had in taking my son. To know that He died, but not allow myself to ever see any good in the situation, would be accepting that Zion died in vain. This would be a truly tragic reality. However, my hope is that God will continue to redeem the short life of Zion by using Him for His great and wonderful purposes- in my life and in the lives of others.

Christmas Eve

I hardly know what to think about Christmas this year. I am excited because my parents arrive on Christmas morning and I know having them here will be a great distraction and such a fun time for them to be able to interact with Natty and get to know her now in this fantastic stage where she is learning and talking and doing the cutest, funniest things. She is truly a blessing and I know I would be horribly depressed if she weren't around. However, I can't help but think constantly of Zion- which really is no different than any other day, Christmas or not. How many times did I picture myself sitting by the Christmas tree with him, resting on the couch and looking at the lights glowing? How many people did we ask to pray that he would come home by Christmas? I know he is home- his eternal home- but that's not quite what I was hoping for. The whole point of my parents coming at Christmas was so that they could be here for the birth and help us in the first few weeks. Everything is so very different now. As long as I stay busy, I manage. But the moment I have quiet, my heart becomes very heavy and full of sadness. I posted an article on my facebook that talks about Christmas not being what everyone pictures in their mind- a happy, jolly day when families get along and sip hot cocoa around the Christmas tree and laugh and open presents. It's great if it can be like this. But, the point of Christmas is that we are all broken, we all suffer in some way, we are all needy and have issues. That's why Christ was born. The Word was made flesh so that He could experience the sadness, the brokenness, the pain that we go through and so that He could redeem it all. This has been one comfort to me this holiday. A good friend told me that it's OK if Christmas is sad this year, if it's not full of joy and laughter. How strongly I recognize my own brokenness, my need for a good Savior this year. As I think about Zion and how his death has profoundly changed my view of the world and of life, I am so much more thankful that Christ came to bring hope and to understand our suffering. And so part of me is ready for Christmas to hurry up and get over with while another part of me wants to understand more deeply what it is all about.

THE conversation

So, I knew it was bound to happen soon. I've started going back to the pool and I ran into one of the older ladies that swims the same time I do and who watched my belly grow rounder and rounder in the last months. Of course, she asks today in the changing room, "So, was your baby a girl or a boy?". Uh, oh. I immediately wonder how this is going to work out- will I cry? will I tell her he died? will I run into the shower and pretend I didn't hear her? It was a boy, I answer. Oh, congratulations! And you're already back at the pool? Well, I tell her, here's the thing. And I proceed to explain how Zion was born early and that he died. And I manage to do this without the threat of tears. What makes it possible to talk about in a matter-of-fact manner one moment and another moment it threatens to tear my heart apart? So, she listens politely with a "poor thing" look on her face as I blather on about how strong he was and how long he lived, etc... I find it nice to talk about him when I can keep my emotions under control. And then, her response. I'm ready to hear it again. Most people answer with one of two things: my personal favorite, "But, honey, you're young. You'll have more kids". Love that one. And then, "God knows what He's doing." The second one doesn't upset me as much because at least they recognize God in all of it, even if it's not to the extent I do. But, it can still be annoying sometimes because most people feel the need to make themselves feel better by throwing out a one-liner that is supposed to make me feel better. As if a one sentence answer to this great tragedy that has come upon us is all it will take to perk me up. I totally understand that people are wanting to be helpful and encouraging. I get that. But what is most helpful is just to agree that it's a hard, sad, terrible thing. This woman even preempted her statement with, "This all must be very difficult." Yes! Thank you. Leave it at that, please. However, mentioning God did give me the opportunity to tell her that I do trust that the Lord has a good plan in all this and that with His strength, we will make it through. As I showered, I wondered when the time will come when I can speak more about all that God has done through taking our Zion. I trust that neat things will come out of it but I still feel that I'm walking in a fog of grief thick enough to keep me from seeing it all clearly. I look forward to the day that the fog will lift and I might truly begin to give God the praise He deserves.

P.S. Many of you have written me beautiful, scripture-filled notes or emails or have just reminded me that you are praying. I appreciate these and don't look at them the same way and just want to say "thanks".

Christmas poem

I wanted to share a poem I found on Kristi's blog- a mom who has also lost precious babies.

First Christmas

I hear that on the Earth below
This is a special season
With lights and songs and gifts and such,
And Jesus is the reason!

In the place I would have lived
Are strings of light that blink and shine,
But you should see the light up here
That glows from Jesus all the time!

In the place I would have lived
Carols play, and special songs,
But you should hear the music that
The angels sing here all day long!

In the place I would have lived,
Gifts are giv’n on Christmas Day,
But you should feel the joy we feel
Because God’s gift is here to stay!

In the place I would have lived,
Tears have flowed because I’m gone.
My family wishes I were there
To see and hear and feel it all.

But in this place where I now live,
It’s Christmas all day, all year long,
And the sights and sounds I’d see with them
Are pure, unblemished by all wrong.

So on this day that would have been
My first Christmas on the Earth,
Mama, Daddy, you need to know
I’m celebrating Jesus’ birth!

When you sing songs to worship Him,
I’m singing with the angels, too.
I’m never closer than when we all
Praise Him for our life anew.

I know that life began for me
Sooner than you thought it would.
I know your hearts are hurting now,
And you would change things if you could.

But in this place, where you’ll come, too,
We’ll be together, forever.
And there will be no more good-byes
When we celebrate Christmas in heaven – together!

Moments

I have a bit more energy these days. Until recently, I was still going to bed around 9 or 9:30, like I did toward the end of my pregnancy, because I was so physically and emotionally drained everyday. I feel like I'm getting some strength back but I'm finding it difficult to know what to do with my evenings. I'm not a night person and would be just as happy going to bed and enjoying some good sleep in order to wake up early and have some quiet time before Natty wakes up. However, for the sake of my husband, who would probably like to hang out with me sometimes at night, I am trying to retrain my body to stay up until at least 10. Pretty sad, I know. We've gotten slightly addicted (is that possible?) to Boggle these days after Natty goes to bed- even though I'm pretty sure I've never beat Scotty. But, I've gotten close a couple times, so that keeps me in the game. Sometimes it's annoying to be married to someone who is smarter than you and better at most things. But, it's also one thing I admire about him. Anyway-I decided I should blog since it feels like it's been a long time. Than I noticed it's only been 5 days. I suppose I was blogging so frequently for a while because I felt like I was constantly emotionally charged- which is when I prefer to blog or when I am most "inspired". I don't feel emotionally charged at the moment, so this might be a bit dull. However, I just wanted everyone to know I'm still here. I'm still sad a lot of the time. I'm still struggling to understand and to evaluate myself and my circumstances and God's work in my life and the meaning of all of it. I know some of these things are too big to figure out but it seems as though anything smaller just doesn't matter to me right now- so I ponder the big things. And that's one thing that is annoying about grief and makes me feel like a bad person sometimes- you tend not to care about much else but your own circumstances. How self-centered is that? But, as much as I try- I really can't make myself think too much about other things. I find even when I pray (even prayer was next to impossible to do for a while), I can't think of anything else to pray about than God help me get through this. I think I'll pray for other people and then I end up being overwhelmed by how much I miss Zion and knowing that this awesome God I'm talking to is the One who took him, and everything falls to pieces. And then I am just a heap of tears begging God to help me and wondering how I'll ever be normal again. It's also annoying how grief can surprise you and overwhelm you at any moment. For example, I'm driving to the grocery store thinking how nice it is to have the desire and energy to cook again (but only some days) and Natty will say out of the blue, "I miss baby Zion." Then my heart breaks in two and I wonder if I should just pull the car over and pray for the ground to swallow me up. Or, I'm playing with Natty and marveling at her budding personality and extreme silliness and I see a puzzle on her shelf that I picked up thinking it would look good hanging in Natty and Zion's bedroom when they are a bit bigger. And I get angry all over again that life did not work out according to my "perfect" plan. And, seriously- my whole day is ruined. However, there are quick moments that God can speak so clearly and although the words might be a bit muddled in my less than sharp mind, the idea is conveyed- "I love you. I am here. I know. I will make it OK again." He's done that a couple times lately and it's nice. I'd like it to happen more but sometimes I think I'm too busy wallowing that I don't even want to hear it, because I'm afraid I won't believe it. But, God is good and He finds ways to tell me and when I hear it, I can't help but believe it. Just like when He calls us to Himself- we can't, we don't want to resist because we know He is real and He is who He says He is. I hope to have more of these moments.

A tough date.

Scotty and I decided to go out on a day date today. I can't remember the last time we had a date and while our house help is around, it is easier just to leave Natty with her and go out during the day instead of finding a babysitter for the evening. So, we ran a few errands and then headed to the nice movie theater with plans to do some window shopping after the movie. Lately, movies are a nice distraction from the often gloomy reality of life, and I was especially looking forward to escaping for a couple hours today. We bought tickets, popcorn and a big drink for about $8! Love that. The movie was interesting and I was excited for a few more minutes to hang out with Scotty when we ran into a friend we haven't seen for quite some time. Not being very connected to us or Facebook very frequently, he didn't know anything about Zion. It came up and, of course, I started crying in the middle of the mall and wondered how I could escape quickly without anyone seeing me. But, there also happened to be an entire table full of people we knew and had to say hi to them as well. So, the date was quickly terminated and the car ride home, silent. When telling someone for the first time about Zion's death, I'm not just sad because he's gone, but everything that is sad that I've mentioned before comes to the surface. Everything that at any given moment can ruin my day is brought before me again. I thought I could avoid reality for enough time to have a good date with Scotty, but there's no escaping the hard truth. If not on the surface, it's always lurking shallowly beneath. The "why-me's?" were haunting me all the way home. Why can't I just have a date out with my husband without having to be reminded my son died. Why can the sheer mention of Zion sometimes take all joy out of my day? Why does grief come up at the most inopportune times and send me reeling when I felt emotionally stable 5 seconds earlier? And so, the journey continues... Somewhere along the way, I feel like God has given me more peace in and acceptance of His continued goodness and His love. It doesn't seem as hard to believe as it once did, but the pain is as real as ever and presents itself in many different dimensions- a seemingly infinite number of new ways each day. But, I know I must hold on to this faith, however lacking, and know there is light at the end of the tunnel.

Randomness

Today it's gloomy outside. Matches my emotional state. I'm listening to somewhat melancholy instrumental Christmas music and trying not to cry in front of Natty again. I'm looking at the Christmas tree and thinking how I wish this would be a happy holiday this year. And I start thinking again the most random thoughts...this seems to be happening a lot lately. I wonder if Christmas, or Christ's birth, was a little melancholy for the Lord, too. For us, it means the birth of our Savior- the only one that can bring us life. For God, it meant sending His son to die. That must have been a little bittersweet, too. So, I'm glad we're in this together.

The other night I wondered if they celebrated some form of Christmas in heaven. I mean, they're celebrating Christ all the time, so I can't imagine they do. But I was thinking about Zion and I wanted to think he was having the most amazing Christmas there in the Lord's presence. Maybe he could even play baby Jesus in heaven's reenactment of Christ coming to earth. He was supposed to be born at Christmas, too...

A few nights ago I was praying on my way to bed and telling God again how much I just want Zion back. I started wondering how I would react if God said, "Ok, Lisa, you can have Zion back. But, remember, if I give him life on earth, he will have joy, but nothing compared to being here with me. What's more, he will have suffering that he would never experience if he were to stay in heaven. Do you really want him back?" I realized how true that is. My son was saved a lot of pain by being able to go to his eternal home "early". As much as I would be overjoyed to have my son with me, as a mother, I would sacrifice that for him to stay by the Lord's side. Although if I could have stopped him from dying- I surely would have.

Beach distraction

I love the beach and sometimes lament the fact that we live at high altitude (read: cold) in a country that is land-locked. When we lost Zion and many people asked us if we would go home or get away, I thought: the beach. So, we looked into going back to the nice, affordable condo on the beach we spent a few days at several months ago. We found great airline tickets and had all the support of the people around us to get away and relax. I wondered if it would be helpful, if I'd really forget all that has happened and be able to enjoy myself. But, I knew that Natty would love it and that we could use some time to focus on our family and not feel the slight guilt of not being involved in life and ministry as we usually are. When we first got there, it was cold. On our previous trip it was cold. I wondered if God just didn't want us to enjoy life. Yes, this was my horrible thought. We sat on the beach in our jackets and Scotty and I were both struck with how off it felt. We were missing a part of our family. As we watched Natty happily digging away in the sand like a little crab, we recognized again how much we wanted Zion to be a part of that. I spent one of the first nights sobbing in Scotty's arms for about an hour or so. Then, things started looking up. The weather got warmer and we were both able to really relax and enjoy each other. Natty found delight in everything. She loved the sand, the water, the washed up jellyfish, the shells, the rocks, the food, the TV with cartoons, the hotel, the old people that had taken over the hotel that week. She would wake up every morning, come out of her room, look through our sliding glass doors that had a beautiful ocean view, put her hands in the air and shout, "THE BEACH!!" She was full of life and that is exactly what I needed. I found myself able to be happy for longer than a couple minutes at a time. Happy hours went by (and not the 2 for 1 beer type) and although I never forgot about my little boy- I was able to enjoy myself. This was truly a gift. Scotty and I slept in- thanks to the lower altitude and lots of hard play on the beach helping Natty sleep later- we read, we ate, we played games, we soaked up the sun. I wasn't ready to leave today and neither was Natty. Usually, at the end of a trip, I know that our time is up and I am ready to get back to my house. I knew the day was drawing near for us to come back to La Paz, but I also knew what awaited me here. Reminders everywhere of Zion. Uncomfortable conversations. My own fear of people not understanding that I am still sad. Being more sad as I return to life as usual without the fun distraction of the beach and a different place. We put up our Christmas tree today. How many people did I ask to pray that Zion would be home by Christmas? How long did I picture our family with a newborn around the Christmas tree? As the bits of tree came out to be put together, my heart began to sink. This is not what I imagined this holiday- just the 3 of us. No pregnancy. No baby. These will be hard days, but I think our time away has given me a chance to breathe, a chance to gird up and begin the fight of faith anew, a chance to be reminded of how much God has given me in my loving husband and wonderful daughter. The holidays will be bittersweet in so many ways but I know that our God is faithful, even when I am not.