the real dirty truth...

hello interwebz.  i'm new here.  allow me to introduce myself.  i'm lula's mama.

here's the real dirty truth about my blog.  i figure, no beating around the bush - lay it all out on the line so you know where my head is, right? 

in october i lost a baby.  i am a miscarriage survivor.  i use the term "survivor" loosely as more often than not, there are still days when i feel ready for the rapture and am certain my kind, patient husband and my sweet little lula would be better off without me.  ridiculous, right?  i know... but honestly, i've just never been in a sadder, darker place in my life.  my heart is broken.  just broken.

last night, after a long discussion with my awesome awesome husband, i realized that i just need someone to blame.  there has to be a reason that this has happened to me.  i've never EVER done everything right until i started bleeding 6 weeks into my pregnancy.  i called the doctor, i went in, we all saw a heartbeat.  our doctor, who coincidentally is also our pastor (yep... i'm close "personal" friends with my pastor.  who is very attractive.  and i'm blushing) prayed with us, for us.  i went to a womens conference, surrounded myself with the word and strong, faithful ladies who prayed over me and my teeny tiny little baby.  i've never prayed harder, read more of the Bible... i've never had such a strong faith.  i just KNEW that God would get us through this and that 8 months later, in may, i would have an amazing testimony as i sat holding my newborn baby.  i believed with my whole heart, my whole soul.  and then... it didn't happen.  in fact... just the opposite... i passed our sweet teeny grape sized baby while sitting on the toilet just three days after the bleeding started.

YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME.  REALLY!?!?!  it was the worst day of my life and i will NEVER forget how it all went down.  i fished that sweet babe out of the toilet.  i was in a complete state of SHOCK and PANIC.  i didn't know what else to do.  here i was, begging God for this to be a dream.  nope.  sorry sister... this is real life.  and it slapped me straight across the face as i stood in the bathroom that day, pants on the ground, holding my little baby in my hand. 

and so... now here i am.  i love my God and i know someday i will see my sweet babe again.  i know that.  and i am so thankful.  and yet, i still cry and think of what could of been.  what should have been.

i've been fighting back though.  i've so desperately needed someone to blame that i've accepted that since it wasn't God's fault (although i do feel like He abandoned both me and my baby) it wasn't my husband's fault, it must be my fault.  right?  i mean, something went wrong and at the end of the day, my body couldn't carry this baby to term.  my body flushed it out... literally.  my body failed me.  so i've foolishly been fighting back against none other than myself.  i haven't been taking care of myself and i just don't give a rip about it.  but yesterday i realized that i'm not just hurting myself anymore.  i'm hurting my husband and my little lula - both of whom i ADORE.  and so it has to stop.

so i created this blog.  and here i will recount the things that i give the glory and the gratitude to God for everyday.  sure, i realize no one will read it, but i pretty much don't care.  i'm doing this for me.  i'm doing this to heal.  in hopes that by counting the things i'm thankful for everyday i can focus in on the positives in my life and stop dwelling on the fact that our family unit is missing a link.  (ugh... heavy, i know). 


bet you didn't realize you were stepping in on something so dreary, huh? :)