Adopted by the Father

At the recommendation of my dad, I recently read this book.

I can't even really describe how much it surprised me.  It's about a little boy who almost dies on the operating table, and when he awakes, he tells his mom and dad about how the "angels sang to him" and how he visited heaven and sat on the lap of Jesus.

Mindblowing stuff, right?  I wasn't sure I believed it, but decided to give the book a read anyway.

It took exactly one night to read it from cover to cover.  I was riveted.  I had tears running down my face.  I literally took my breath away.  

And I want to tell you why.

At one point in the book, the author (the father of the little boy) is telling about a heartbreaking miscarriage that he and his wife suffered before the birth of their son, Colton.  He describes it as the single most difficult event he and his wife had ever weathered in their marriage, and shared the shattered hearts that resulted from the loss of their baby.  I cried with him as I read these words, because I identify with that sense of loss as the mother of 15 IVF babies...not all of whom I will ever have the chance to hold on his earth.

Later on in the book, the topic of this miscarriage comes up again....only this time, by their little boy.  I'm including the passage:

"One evening in October, I was sitting at the kitchen table, working on a sermon.  Sonja was around the corner in the living room, working on the business books, processing job tickets, and sorting through payables.  Cassie played Barbie dolls at her feet.  I heard Colton's footprints padding up the hallway and caught a glimpse of him circling the couch, where he then planted himself directly in front of Sonja.
  
"Mommy, I have two sisters," Colton said.

I put down my pen.  Sonja didn't.  She kept on working.

Colton repeated himself.  "Mommy, I have two sisters."

Sonja looked up from her paperwork and shook her head slightly.  "No, you have your sister, Cassie, and...do you mean your cousin, Tracy?"

"No." Colton clipped off the word adamantly.  "I have two sisters.  You had a baby die in your tummy, didn't you?"

At that moment, time stopped in the Burpo household, and Sonja's eyes grew wide.  Just a few seconds before, Colton had been trying unsuccessfully to get his mom to listen to him.  Now, even from the kitchen table, I could see that he had her undivided attention."

"Who told you I had a baby die in my tummy?" Sonja asked, her tone serious.

"She did, Mommy.  She said she died in your tummy."

....I knew what my wife had to be feeling.  Losing that baby was the most painful event of her life.  We hadn't told Colton, judging the topic a bit beyond a four-year-old's capacity to understand.  From the table, I watched quietly as emotions rioted across Sonja's face. 

"It's okay, Mommy," he said.  "She's okay.  God adopted her."
___________ 

I read that passage with tears freely flowing down my face.  God adopted her.  Those words just kept replaying in mind.  

A few paragraphs later, the story continues with Colton's exhuberant exclamation:

"She said she just can't wait for you and daddy to get to heaven!"

If I had been crying before, then these were full fledged alligator tears.  I almost feel like those few paragraphs changed my world, or at least, my view of the world.

When we started the IVF process, God blessed us with 15 baby embryos.  We celebrated.  We were joyful.  We wanted them all, and we never ceased to pray for them all. But, if you've been following our story for a while, then you know that we didn't get to keep them all.  Blake was implanted along with a twin, who never attached.  Others stopped dividing and died just days after conception.  Of the original fifteen, we have just four left...waiting for us.  

I'm always so careful when writing about this topic, because it's difficult to express my heart when it comes to how I feel about these lives.  I've also received some criticism from people who don't believe it's possible to honor God while simultaneously accepting the loss of these little lives.  I've written more about my thoughts on that here.  

For me, reading this little boy's account of meeting his sister in heaven rocked my world.  It brought all of my emotions back to the forefront, but in a different, more joyful way.  

And man, it really made me think.

God has adopted my babies.  His intention, from the beginning of time, was never for them to live out their days on this earth.  Their destiny was to forever live within the gates of heaven, adopted by the Father.  When I originally wrote about this, in this post, I titled it "Adopted and Loved".  At the time, I remember thinking that the title didn't really make sense, but it just felt right. 

And it really, really was.

God has blessed us with the gift of Blake.  He has placed him in our arms to walk alongside us on this earth.  But that's not the end of the blessing.  We may never get to hold all our babies here, on earth, but they are waiting for us.  I will have an eternity with them.  They walk the streets of Heaven, sitting on the Father's lap in the throne room even as I type this.  Not a bad way for this mama to picture her babies.

It's so easy to get caught up in this world.  After all, we live here.  This is our reality, all we've ever known, and our sense of time revolves around the day-to-day of this world.  But, wow, this life?  It's nothing.  It is literally the blink of an eye.   We can't yet comprehend that, because our humanity limits our understanding.  

This little boy's account of heaven opened my eyes just a little bit more to the blessing.  I prayed for God to make me a mom, and he did....fifteen times over.  He never intended for all of those blessings to be given to me at once, and He never intended for our little human household to be filled with fifteen pairs of little feet.  That doesn't negate what He did in my life for me, and it doesn't limit it.  My babies, those I'll never hold on this earth, have been adopted by the Father...and they are waiting for me.  For their mama. That is my eternal designation.

I have little Colton's words ringing in my ears "...and she just can't wait for you and daddy to get there"

I can't wait to get there, either.  In the meantime, my heart finds joy as I picture them sitting on the Father's lap as he tickles their tummies and whispers how much He loves them.  I know MY love for them could never compare to the Father's, but my breath-prayer this morning was that He gives them three extra hugs and kisses, today and everyday.  One from their mama, one from their daddy....and one from their brother. 

____________________

Maybe some of you are reading this post with a lot of skepticism, a lot of yeah sure the kid went to Heaven and saw Jesus.  Sounds like an over-active imagination, right?  I hear that.  I wasn't sure myself as I started reading the book.  For me, though, I had to ask myself this question: Do I, as a follower of Jesus Christ, believe that I serve the kind of God who would send His angels to comfort one of His little ones in their time of need?  I do.  Jesus loves the little children.  Do I also believe that God is a miracle-worker?  Do I believe that it is possible for Him to give a glimpse of heaven to this little boy?  How could I answer that any other way but of course?  Of course God could have offered Colton that glimpse of Heaven.   And if I believe those two things, then I don't need to analyze it any further.  So, for me, I choose to walk away from the book with a sense of renewed hope, and excitement. 

Back in the saddle again (...of exercising)

Well, it's time.  After 4 months of no exercise, I've decided to get back in the saddle and get rid of this baby weight. 

Before I got pregnant, I looked like this:

Then, after 9 months of pregnancy, I looked like this:

  

Now, four months post pregnancy, I look like this:

Hm.  Apparently I like to change my hair color and style a lot.  Anyway...

Let's put those side by side, shall we??

Hmm.  It's a work in progress.  In my pre-pregnancy shot, I'm weighing in at 125 pounds and wearing a size 2 jean.  In my post-pregnancy shot, I'm weighing in at a weight I'd rather die than post not 125 and (I think in that picture) wearing a size 6 pant.  That was a month ago that I took the picture, and today I fluctuate anywhere between a size 4 pant and a size 6.  I'm somewhere in the middle.  Definitely can't even look at the size 2 jeans pictured above.  I can barely get one leg in. 

For the past four months, I haven't really thought about it.  I'm breastfeeding, and that required good hydration and good food and nutrition.  So I've been focusing on that.  Yes, I would like to lose the weight, but I'm not looking to get back down to 125.  I gained a lot of weight during pregnancy (I couldn't even tell you how much because I stopped looking somewhere in the 2nd trimester) and my doctor said that was likely due to my petite frame growing a very non petite (10 pound, 7 ounce) baby.  I wasn't technically underweight before, but I was close, and my doctor would like to see me stay in the 130-135 range. 

And that's fine by me. 

So now I just need to motivate myself and stay accountable until I get there.  I've always been an exercise junkie.  I really love it.  In the summers when I didn't work, I'd go to the gym every morning and just regulate my body with a hot, sweaty, can't-sit-for-the-rest-of-the-week workout.  And I loved it.  During pregnancy, I worked out every single day until my 38th week of pregnancy.  And I gave birth at 39 weeks to the day.  I have no doubt in my mind I can do this. 

In the new year, I've decided to take advantage of my husband's insurance benefits and sign up for Weight Watchers.  Not because I want to lose some massive amount of weight, but because I want the accountability of watching what I eat and being aware of what I eat.  With a baby around, it's too easy to just grab something quick for lunch rather than making something nutritious.  Same way with dinner.  It's not impossible, just more difficult.  I've also cleared all the boxes off the treadmill started working out in the evenings, which is already making me feel more invigorated and motivated.  I'm also hoping that a certain someone (hi honey, I love you!) will buy me a gym membership for Christmas.  There's just something about getting in the car to go to the gym that I love and can't replicate in my garage. 

So that's my plan.  I've been making dinner menus each week and sticking to it so that I can make sure we are eating good food rather than quick food.  I've done Christmas baking but given away all the spoils to keep those temptations out of my hands.  I've stocked our fridge with fruits and veggies that are ready for snackin'.

And so here we go!  I'm planning to blog once a week at least twice a month about my progress so I can stay accountable.  Wish me luck!!

Updates

Check out a couple new posts on my new blog, here.  They are full of baby cuteness. 

Don't know the password?  Email me or comment and I'll make sure you get it!

Ch-ch-ch-changes

I wanted to let you all know about a change to this little 'ol blog. 

As of today, I am officially splitting Grace Like Rain in two.  There will be this blog, and then this one. 

My new blog, All you need is love...and a blog, is going to be where I post pictures, projects and write about family life.  I've imported everything from Grace Like Rain into my new blog, and I've gone and deleted a bunch of my older entries from this blog. 

So why the change?

Well, really two reasons. 

First, I wanted Grace Like Rain to remain true to what I originally created it to be: an outlet for me to write about our struggles with infertility, the awesome love of the Father, and the beauty of life...even when it doesn't go as planned.

And the second?  Well, really, the first reason leads me to the second. 

When I started this blog, I had no idea that (a few years later) I'd have so many people tuning it every week to find out what's happening in our lives.   It's really humbling that so many of you have taken such a vested and genuine interest in my family, and I have been so touched by the outpouring of love and support I have received through this blogging community.   For real.

That being said, now that I've got a little one running (okay, rolling....kinda) around, I need to be conscientious of safeguarding his privacy.  I realized last week that I was getting thousands of hits from around the world from people googling his full name.  Not even mine.  His full name. And I'll be honest...that kind of made me nervous.  Because for the 1000+ awesome, amazing, wish-I-knew-them-in-real-life bloggers out there, I'd be naive to forget about those 1 or 2 that aren't the type I'd want to bring home to mom and dad (...or have looking at pictures of my sweet baby boy). 

So, in an effort to balance that out,  All you need is love...and a blog was born.  All posts on that blog are password protected, but you are all invited (and I hope you will!) continue to check-in on our little family!  The password for all posts over there will be my maiden name.  If you've known me for a while, you already know it, but if you haven't/don't, please feel free to email me and I'll send it to you!  I'm not trying to keep anyone away, I just want to have a bit better idea of who's reading ;)