Happy New Year Hannah!!!

I have to blog, I have to declare to the world my promise, my miracle that I now hold in my hand.I have to remember, never forget where I was a year ago, where God sheltered me and loved me amidst a very depressing and despairing time. Have you ever had a dream, a dream that only felt to fragile to hold, a dream that others seemed to obtain without any trying, a dream that you felt, realistically, would never come to fruition. If you have known me long, you know my desire for a big family goes back to when I was 10. I used to sit with my friend Sarah, who now is expecting her first, and play "fake families" for hours. We would sit and write lists of names on the computer and pretend that they were all our kids or brothers and sisters. We played and made story after story, hour after hour. My families had no less than 10 kids, normally two sets of twins and my desire grew and grew for a large family. Then, every book I read had large families,  Cheaper By the Dozen, Those books by Ann M Martin where every sibling's first name started w/ Abbie, Bainbridge, Calandra, Dagwood, Edward...haha...I can't believe I can remember them all! Caddie Woodlawn, etc....then there was the movies!!! Mine Ours Yours!!!!! OHmigosh I watched that movie so many times. It was made in the 70s , no less, but it was awesome...one family had 8 kids the other had 10 and they combined and had one of their own. I could hardly stand it! I wanted a large family of my own. I envied people, growing up, who grew up in large families and always felt that the more the merrier.

As I started high school, I went from wanting 7 kids, down to five...and there it stayed and has remained. However, last fall/winter when I went through two miscarriages in a row and then my episode on New Years Eve night with Hannah, I felt that my dreams that I had agonized about would only be, but that, a dream.

I will never forget sitting down at the computer around 9pm at night, talking with my Mom on the phone and getting ready to do some work for a job that I have, feeling so incredibly sick with "morning/afternoon/night" sickness and all of a sudden feeling a warm release, looking down and seeing gushing of dark, crimson blood on my brand new PINK Victoria Secret sweatpants. I said through clenched teeth to my Mom, " I'll call you back". What happened next, brings instant tears to my eyes at the pain that I went through. I staggered to the bathroom as the sudden loss of large amounts of blood made me shake, feel nauseated, light headed and tingly. Everywhere I went I dragged large amounts of blood with me, I couldn't stop. I layed on the floor of the bathroom screaming, crying and wearily phoned Ben to come home, as he was at work. I knew if I got up I would faint and was afraid of hitting my head on the bathtub so I layed there. I have never felt more alone, more in despair and angry than I did at that moment. Days earlier, I had seen my baby's heartbeat on the monitor, days earlier after a some spotting, my fears were relieved and I was able to move forward with the pregnancy as I saw that baby was doing well. Why was on the floor of the bathroom now? Why did my bathroom look like a murder scene. What is this feeling??!!! as my uterus started contracting!!! Why!!! Why is this happening!!!!!!! I sat on the toilet screaming out to God, sobbing- " Why is this happening, make it stop!! You can make it stop! Why won't you??! You know my heart, why can't you stop this!!!" and my uterus continued to contract. The thing with labor pains is after they are over, you are holding a baby- it's worth it. The problem with this is I was in labor, I had the most excruciating labor pains and my body was expelling my baby, and there was nothing I could do to stop it at 8.5 weeks pregnant! My dreams were shattered, I was numb, I buried my face in my shirt and screamed into it as each labor pain grew intensely worse. Finally, I stumbled over to the bed, Ben had just gotten home and had picked up the strongest aspirin possible to take, something you can't take when you are pregnant, and I numbed my remaining feelings with a pillow, a hot pad and aspirin. There I slept.

The next day, New Years Day, I felt empty. I felt sick. I felt alone. For the next few days, I sat, in my pajamas, watched tv, sat in a chair outside with the kids and sat, I did not feel. I did not talk to God. I sat.

Finally, after the love and prayer of so many, I turned on the song that had been my theme song since my first miscarriage in August, " The Desert Song" my Hillsong and i listened, and I began to cry, and I felt the Holy Spirit begin to slowly heal my broken heart, my broken dreams. I just cried.

On January 4, Ben and I dropped off the three kids at a friend's house and drove to our midwife's office. Wow, why did it seem like everyone in the world, but me was pregnant?! They called our name back and we sat, in the sterile room, in silence. The midwife came in and she was compassionate, and motherly and I stuffed my emotions down inside, and hit them under a veil of anger. I layed on the table and gave her our baggy of what we felt was our baby's frozen remains. She said she wouldn't do testing on it, that it was too expensive and asked if I wanted to throw it away? I lost it, throw it away?? That is my baby! How can I just throw it away??! I started sobbing. Then she said, " Oh honey, let's do the utlra sound." So I layed in that sterile room, with Ben who had his own emotions, with a midwife who I would no longer get the opportunity to work with for the next 7.5 months and despair overflowing out of my heart. She wanted to do a regular ultra sound, I was adamant, " NO. If there is anything you will not be able to see it as last week when I came in to see if I was still pregnant, after the spotting, the baby was hiding in the depths of my uterus, in the secret place she/he was hiding and was barely reachable by the vaginal ultra sound. " So, she agreed to my demands and did the other ultrasound. Tears, streaming out of my eyes, looking away from the screen , I sat there numb.

Then, I will never forget what follows, under the sterile lights, in the sterile room, with an empty silence, the midwife said, " Look! That is the cutest little snowman I have ever seen!" and there, on the screen, in all it's glory was my beautiful baby, with a beautiful heartbeat, and stubby arms, and eyes, and a little head, and she/he was there and perfect and with a STRONG heartbeat~ my heart lept inside of me, I cried, I was numb again but with being stunned. What was going on? How? ! She printed the picture and I clutched it and the name God had given me just a few days ago, " Salome Rafia" - Peace Jehovah Heals, ran through my heart.

I could hardly call people, those who had walked with us, threw our pain, our sadness, only to say " She is alive!" Do you know how that feels? To have that which you though was lost, given back to you? I can hardly describe the feeling....it's immeasurable, it's indescribable....it's miraculous! God gave me a picture, it was His large, strong hand, clutching around my dear Hannah, she was in his palm and his strong fingers surrounded her, there she remained as my body tried relentless for hours to expel her, to wash her life out before she even had a chance to take a breath. But God is FAITHFUL! He who has called you is Faithful! He preserved her life, HE is her rescuer, her fortress, My God in whom I trust. He rescued her in a way that I never could, He reached down and took hold of her life and said, " Not now, no way." and he clutched her because He loves her. Thank you God for Hannah, thank you for her life as a miracle, a testimony, daily to your faithfulness....to how life will NEVER seem the way we planned it, it will never go the way desired it, but Jesus you are faithful and I cling to that. Thank you, Jesus...I have so much to be thankful for!