Sleep

One the side effects of this pregnancy has been insomnia.

I know that it becomes a symptom of every pregnancy towards the end. However, this has been throughout the entire pregnancy.

When I was pregnant with Little, I "napped" all the time. I'd come home from work and sit down on the couch. The next thing I would know, it would be the next morning. I'd still have on my scrubs from the day before with yesterday's make-up on. It was disgusting, but I was resting.

This time, I'm up doing laundry at 2 AM. Playing Words with Friends with night shift people. Watching infomercials.

On average, I get around three hours sleep a night, and that's if I take Benadryl. It's ridiculous.

However, last night, we ALL slept really well. Like so well that none of us got up when the alarm went off.

Humbled

My mother-in-law's disease was debilitating and overwhelming for most of us.

It rattled our core. It challenged us to cling to the One that is in control. It made us walk by faith. It encouraged trust, patience, and long-suffering.

I am confident in saying this will be a defining moment in my Christian walk. In my spiritual growth. In my faith.

Since her death, there has hardly been a day that we have not received some encouragement in the mail. Nearly every day, we have received cards. Reminders of love and togetherness. Reminders of concern and prayers. Reminders that she is healed.

And we are humbled. We are humbled by how many people care. How blessed we truly are. How His grace is sufficient. How important she was to others, not just us.

Our church organized a benefit to aid with her medical expenses. It was held 8 days before her passing. It was amazing.

So many local businesses and people gave their time, money, and resources. A large sum of money was donated, but the outcome was so much more than that.

She was able to be there. She was able to stay the entire time. She was able to visit with family and friends. She was able to see how giving our community is. She was able to see how much she was loved, how she mattered to people, and how everyone has a purpose.

Working at Wal-Mart allowed her to meet many people. She was never really confident in her actions making a tremendous impact on people. But in her last months, she came to realize how much she positively affected others.

Humbling.

I'm on my soapbox

First of all, I've been waiting on someone to comment on my incredibly busy and distracting blog background.

Readers, all two of you, have failed me.

I cannot stand this background, but I am entirely too pregnant and lazy to change it. That will be my excuse from now until December.

Since I only have ten weeks left, which is now nine weeks if the c-section gets scheduled when the doctor wants it, I am trying to tidy up on important things like pre-admission paperwork for the delivery.

In addition to wanting to know every intricate detail of your entire life, they also need to know everything about your insurance policy, which I happen to not know.

Call me ignorant, but I go to appointments, wait on the EOB, and pay the bill. If there is a co-pay, I pay it at the appointment. Works well for us.

Apparently, that does not satisfy the criteria for the hospital.

So, I call the insurance company to obtain the needed information. Wouldn't you know I had to get the lady that knew nothing?

Five questions = Twenty-five minutes

Are you kidding me? I pray this was her first day. If not, I know who is not parking in the employee of the month spot.

I'm sure I'm just hormonal. However, if you were to call me at my j.o.b., and ask me five questions pertaining to my j.o.b., I feel certain I could knock them out fairly quickly. Otherwise, I could connect you with someone who could.

Working in healthcare makes me entirely too critical.

Casting off

So this is really not an ideal situation for a toddler. Bath time has became a little more interesting.

Did I mention how Mommy and Daddy are on constant edge now? Things we used to let Little do without any help, now have us super-paranoid. Basically, she is only allowed to breathe without assistance.

It's a small buckle fracture from tripping and falling. She tried to catch herself, and ended up breaking the bone right near the wrist. (Think taking a stick of butter and slamming it on the counter. That's the best way to describe her fracture.)

Actually, she got her cast off this morning. She is now sporting a hot red splint. A removable splint. We can take a regular bath kind of splint. All is well in the world again.

The anchor holds

Just three short months and 8 whole days from my mother-in-laws first appointment with her oncologist did the Lord take her.

Are we ever ready to bury a parent? I can assure you, if you haven't experienced it, you don't want to. I told Husband that I could live the rest of my life without having to do this again. And I mean it.

I must tell you that she handled everything with dignity and grace. She lived, when most others may have grieved. She reconnected and revived relationships that had long passed. She restored and renewed her faith. She persevered.

For my pastor to stand over her casket and say that he hoped to have her faith if he is ever faced with her situation speaks volumes. She never wavered. The anchor held.

It's been quite an emotional experience for me. Sure, she's my mother-in-law. She's also my friend. She's the grandmother to my children. I hurt for them.

Will I be able to do her justice as I tell them stories of her? Will they truly ever know how excited she was for them, even having never met Blue? Will I be able to convey her spirit to them?

In her last days, I suspect she knew her time was short. She handled some things that in most eyes was probably plenty of time for. But I believe she had an intuition.

She worried some for the life she was leaving. She worried more for the people she would leave behind. I suppose everyone does.

What will life be like without her? I don't know. Currently, we are still in the frame of mind, where even if for a split second, we expect her to walk in the room to visit with company or pick up the phone to call her, in the next instant, realizing she's gone.

We received an answered prayer. We prayed for healing and for mercy. And that the Lord provided.

We take comfort in knowing that He knows every tear we cried. And the only way we get through this is through His grace and strength.

In your prayer time, please remember us.

To my dearest Husband

God did not design us to be alone. He saw that Adam needed a partner. He knew that you would need me, and I would need you.

It's a wonderful thing having someone to experience life with. The laughter, the tears. The joys, the heartaches. The blessings, the hardships. The milestones. The memories.

To wake you up when you fall asleep on the couch. Even more, to remove your glasses when they are barely hanging on to your earlobe, as you have been asleep for hours.

To help me change the sheets. To aid me in every avenue that my protruding belly prevents me from doing.

So, Husband, I wanted to remind you that you are not alone. We are not alone.

Are you really suppose to labor on Labor Day?

So this weekend, I did the unthinkable.

I convinced Little to help me go through her toys and decide which ones could be given to Blue.

Obviously, anything pink was staying.

Little did a good job of sharing, which is quite a task for her.

I cleaned out her closet and chest of drawers (or, as Southerns say, chester drawers).

I made Husband carry all those girl clothes and shoes to the attic. Why? I don't know.

And, because he forgot, I carried the trash to the road this morning.

He is excused. He did some painting this weekend, but of course, the dove hunt came first.