I’ve been in a really hard-to-explain place. I can’t really pinpoint it and I feel I won’t even do a decent job of expressing myself clearly, maybe because everything seems so cloudy? I don’t know.

Every time I go to write in my journal, or when I hop on here to write a blog, I get stumped. What could I possibly say to express my heart clearly? Everything seems so blurry in my mind and thoughts lately. I am not going crazy or anything. I think this could best be described as grief.

I’m in a seriously explicable, blurry place.

I also am struggling with other things adding to my grieving the loss of Eisley. Things I feel I shouldn’t even be dealing with yet I am. It’s out of my control. And some days when I would get on here to write, all that would come out was from an ugly place of anger, frustration, jealousy and hurt. It would be super passive aggressive, ugly places that I just cannot. go. to. I can’t dwell in it for its eating me up inside and I don’t know how much longer I can handle grieving and this without just going totally crazy or without growing numb. I don’t want to be numb. I need to feel, especially right now.

Ted has been incredible and gracious and compassionate to me throughout all of hurt and my shocking anger toward this situation that I bring to him (I should probably say it it’s not him ;)).  He is super loving to remind me of truth yet validate my hurting heart. I am so thankful for this man who somehow manages to stick with me despite where I’m at.

Each heart knows its own bitterness,and no one else can share its joy. Proverbs 14:10

Bitterness and hurt are stealing things that are so precious to me. Including my joy. It’s consuming my thoughts and I’ve even allowed it to dictating my actions.

But mostly I hopped on to humbly ask for your prayers for my heart to release this bitterness so I can freely grieve.

I guess I wanted to get on here and write you to say, “I’m still here”, I plan on posting a DIY this week. I do.

(p.s. …we finally found a place to call home. We signed the papers today. More on this soon…)

Even just the tiniest glimpse.

I can barely find the words lately to express what’s going on my heart and mind. It’s part of why I haven’t shared my heart (on my blog) in the past 6 days. I’m in a really strange place right now. When I first came home from the hospital I didn’t mind being around people but writing was what I found to be the most therapeutic for me at the time. Now, I can barely write words expressing where I’m at.

I’ve been in such a need of the eye contact and/or the sound of the voice of a loved one asking me how we’re really doing and the comfort in the tears shared with a friend or family member as we talk about my sweet Eisley. I’ve found these things to be very healing right now.

::Let me just pause my confusing babbling to say a {huge} thank you to all my dear friends who’ve written or skyped or called or tweeted or even commented here lately. It has meant the world to me. Seriously, I can’t say thank you enough::

Ted and I both feel like we’re taking steps backwards in the “grieving process” as Eisley’s due date nears.

December 17, 2010.

 The date we waited for with great anticipation after we first heard Dr. H announce when our little “surprise baby” was due. The idea of having a newborn added to our family during the beloved holiday season was so exciting. And then when we found out she was our Eisley we we’re even more excited (not gonna lie, I really hoped she was a girl)! The very date we thought of with great anticipation just months before is now another kind of haunting reminder that she is gone.

We’re doing a few significant things on her due date but I keep thinking even though they might be “healing” for us, it won’t be the same as having her here with us. Obviously. Yet we are hoping for peace and healing on that day rather than a feeling of depression at our reality. December 17th will probably be intertwined with a lot of different emotions and as the years go by it might be less and less raw but the ache will still be there.

A few days ago I was driving and listening to music that’s been ministering to me right now. My heart was heavy and I was crying “hot tears” (as I call them), the kind of tears stemmed from a place of deep sorrow and grief and even anger.  As I was crying, something came to my heart and poured from my mouth immediately;

 “Father, please give me a glimpse of my daughter’s joy as she’s with you.”

I find myself whispering this prayer to my Father over and over, especially when I have those overwhelming moments of despair, sorrow, grief, etc. Sometimes, I even close my eyes and picture her with Him. I often remember this photo which you might recall me sharing a month or so ago;

I think of her in heaven experiencing things we cannot even fathom and it helps me as I ache. So this is my prayer, that since I do not have her here to with me and therefore I can’t tangibly experience her joy, that I will instead get a glimpse of my Eisley’s joy as she’s in the presence of our Father.

Jesus, please keep mending our hearts. Give us a glimpse of our daughter’s joy as she’s with You. Even just the tiniest glimpse, Father.

Joy Amidst.

Chase is so very glad to have me home.


He follows me all around more then ever before. Wherever mommy goes, he goes.  And if he catches me headed to the back of the house to use the restroom or to our room, he freaks out. I think he’s afraid I’m going to leave again, which breaks my heart.

We’ve spent a lot of time outside together. He will run around and then run at me and literally throw himself into my arms. I love it.  Watching him run around, play, dance, talk, laugh at himself… He is my little joy amidst this deep sorrow I feel.

I decided the first day back home, that if I needed to cry in front of him, I would. Even though he doesn’t understand or feel the loss of his sister, he know something has happened. I know he does.  When I cry, he comes to me, climbs into my lap and reaches up to touch the tears on my face. He snuggles me more often and kisses my face when I cry or even just because. I was telling a friend that it’s like the sweetest poem come to life, if that makes any sense at all.


I have been in awe of how sensitive he has been to me. I think it’s God’s grace and love pouring out all over him and into me in this time.

He is such a joy.  And boy does he make me laugh. I mean, just look at that “squinty face”. How can you not laugh? Chase also learned to say “I love you” in his own way this week, which I find incredibly fitting in this time. He say “I (something in gibberish) you” or just “I you” and it means the world to me.

I wrote this in my previous blog, but I often think of Chase as Eisley’s big brother and the dreams I had for the two of them together. I ache knowing they will never happen but I know someday we will see her again. For now I am just telling Chase (and one day our other children) about his sister and the legacy she left behind. Teaching him of who she was as I got to know her deeply in my time with her. He will love her as his sister even though she will never walk this earth with him.

(When I took this photo and uploaded, I immediately thought of my two sunshines. My little sunshine Eisley in heaven and my sunshine Chase here on earth.)

Thank you Jesus for my babies. Thank you for the time you let me have with my Eisley-girl and for letting Chase be our little joy here on earth with us. I am cherishing every moment with him more than I ever have. I am so very, very thankful for Chase and Eisley and for being given this honour of being their mommy.