The Andersons

Journals and Journeys

Four measly little pages. My sad attempt at a journal. I've always wanted to keep a journal; something to log my thoughts, hopes, dreams. Something to have, to read, to reflect. But every time I started, I realized quickly that I didn't know what to write. If you ask my friends, they might say that it's just another project I've yet to finish (notice I said "yet"). But to me, it was a project that never got off the ground at all.

My first attempt came when Tate was two. I decided is would be a great way to write down all the funny stories and things he said. Well for those who know Tate, there wasn't much to write. He was a quiet introspective toddler with little to say and much to think about. The few journal entries I logged ended up sounding more like a medical chart than a personal account......

"Tate saying lots of words to label and request and putting some 2 wd phrases together -"bye nanny", "dat horse". Tate said "nome snack" and signed more in class and participates in activities well."

My next attempt at journaling came at a frustrating time in my life - four months after the stillbirth of our daughter.

"I want so badly to be pregnant again. I wanted and planned for a baby that never came. Tonight Tate just came up to me and said, "Mommy, I'm so proud of you." He is such a loving, funny child. I am so grateful to have him. I love and miss you baby Reese. Mommy would love to hold you just one more time. I miss you everyday......... sweet, beautiful baby girl"

And three and a half months later, I was still frustrated.

"Well, we are 10 weeks pregnant and here I am at the pity party again. This is so unfair. I've done this just less than one year ago--why do I have to go through another pregnancy! I know it sounds ungrateful. Many women would give anything to carry their own child for nine months. But for me, it feels like torture. The worry, the waiting--it just isn't as fun when you know what bad things can happen. I don't know if I can endure the mental torture! I've had to go to the doctor 2 weeks earlier than scheduled because I thought I would lose my mind with worry. I just want to be happy again and innocent - unaware of what can happen and how it can tear your heart out. God, I need you to strengthen me AGAIN...... you've been there for me before.... help me again..... I feel like I am self destructing. Pick me up and dust me off. Lord help me lean on You!"

Blogging is the closest thing I've come to journaling in over 3 years and I'm still not that good at it. But those sporadic entries with words so simple they must have truly come from some deep crevasse in my soul have reminded me of the journey I've taken, the plan God has for me, and the realization that only He knows what is best for me.

This week, I have been thoughtful of the change in my life after Reese came and left so quickly. I'll never forget the moment I knew that I would be different. After the initial "I AM GOING TO DIE" feeling subsided, I knew God had a plan and Reese's death would not be in vain. I know now that God sent Reese to change my life. I am a changed person because of her. Life events such as this wound us. But when we are healed, we have a scar to remind us - a scar to share, to show, and to use. Thank you Lord for knowing just what we need......