Looking Back at 2018

It's hard to believe 2018 is ending, but we had a Tomberlin party tonight to send it out with gusto.

This year has been a year of walking through valleys and deep pain. It seemed like every two months we experienced loss, tried to process it, only to be knocked back down again. I've tried to think about how to really recap the year without it turning into a sob story. But the reality is, this year was hard. 

We struggled through the loss of the first baby, left our church in a painful exit, handed Sammy boy over to his new foster family, lost another baby, and struggled in our relationship in the aftermath of it. I had months of stomach and digestion issues that culminated in an IBS diagnosis that seems like will altar my eating indefinitely. And the final trial of 2018 leaves Adam and I working through some heart issues that have caused pain and heartache. 

It's been a year of a lot of hard days. We had been calling 2018 the year of disappointment, but last month I told Adam I felt convicted about it and needed to stop. Because God has been good TO ME. There has been joy so intertwined with the sorrow, you can't help but notice how often they go hand in hand. 

One of the biggest blessings was experiencing my friends step into my pain and walk through sorrows with me. After our second loss, these ladies showed up in my life, each in their unique ways, but together they were a force of life to me as I walked the valley of miscarriage again. I haven't ever had friends like this. I honestly just thought I wouldn't have them either, that only some people get that gift. It was a humbling season of being able to offer very little to them, but this is how true community works. And I'm so grateful for them.

One of the silver linings of being at a new church was that no one knew us, so more Sunday mornings than I can count, I cried my way through those worship songs. I'm not sure I would've had my guard down at our other church. It was small and there was no hiding. While we are so eager to put roots down at this church now, I'm thankful I had the time, space, and freedom to have those Sunday mornings without having to give an answer to those around me. 

Life after my second miscarriage, living in stomach pain pretty much daily, I had a lot of days of feeling like a really bad mom. It was hard to want to do fun things and extend grace or give a gentle answer when I was constantly in pain and definitely irritable. I was so frustrated. Frustrated with no answers or progress and frustrated that my boys were paying a price, too. But they were (and are) both so quick to forgive me, and think I'm so special. Literally, that's what they've been telling me lately. Which yes, their sweet words of love could make me feel like dirt in about .2 seconds, but their tender hearts toward me were absolutely precious. 

When I lost the first baby, I asked my prayer group to please pray that I would know God's love for me as I walked through this loss. Well, as 2018 unfolded, it seemed like it was just loss and pain repeatedly. In the middle of the summer, I was losing stamina. I was showing up each morning for my quiet time and struggling. I had so many questions. I was looking for a nearness to God that I wasn't experiencing. But I just kept crawling before Him each morning. In November, I cut out Facebook and other time wasters. For the most part, I stopped watching anything at nap time. I was looking for opportunities to be more attentive to God and the Holy Spirit. One night I was upstairs, on my face, praying Scripture. God gave me such a clear picture, and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that God loved me. And I wept. That moment right there, changed the sorrow of 2018. I just needed to know. I reread a book on suffering that I hadn't read in ten years, and the Holy Spirit used it to do such a shift in my heart. I actually had the thought on Sunday morning at church (when I wasn't crying through worship) that I was actually thankful for all I had walked through. 

What I keep calling the final punch of 2018 is not ready to be written about, but one day, I'm confident it will be yet another marker of God's faithfulness in my life. That confidence is there not because I know the road ahead of us is going to be easy, actually the opposite is true, but I know that God completes work He begins, and He is for me! To be able to say that with confidence right now is worth dark days of 2018. 

2018 changed me forever! I'm not ready to do another year quite like that one, but I'm fully aware that only God knows what 2019 holds for us. I'm sure there is more hardship to come, but I'm also sure that the work God did in me this year will not be undone.

A lot of hard and a lot to be thankful for this year!

Tricky October

I had the thoughts and intentions to sit down and write about 17 times since the last time, which was 7 weeks ago. But alas. Here it is.

As September closed, I was feeling pretty steady, and then October came.

I've had ongoing complications with my stomach since the miscarriage in June, and I finally sought out a GI to get some help. I sat in her office almost 4 months to the day of our second loss, and I listened to this doctor tell me that unfortunately I could be experiencing IBS as a result of the miscarriage. She gave me a new diet to follow for 6 weeks, some powerful (and expensive) probiotics, and sent me on my way. I did see almost instant positive results, and by the second week of this diet, I realized that some of these dietary changes could be staying with me indefinitely. And it feels so disappointing to have that attached to a miscarriage for so many reasons. Being an avid baker, going gluten-free stinks. Having to tell people who invite us over for dinner that I can't eat a list of food stinks (It's all 100% doable and a first world problem, I understand).

Once October comes, I spend too much time looking for Christmas pajamas for my kids. I love Christmas pajamas. I usually get 2 pairs each season. One set is distinctively THE Christmas pajamas, and I try for one set to be more wintry. Last year I was looking for three boys, and this year, just two. When I found THE Christmas pjs, there was an infant version to "complete the set." And my heart ached. I want to need the infant version. There could've been another Tomberlin in those pajamas. We've also been open for a foster placement for two and a half months with no child placed in our home. 

Last week, I realized I was late, and I had the thought that I could be pregnant. The thought that God was going to give us a baby when we were trying to NOT have a baby was exciting! I waited a couple of days, but I eventually took a pregnancy test simply because I could not handle the thought that I was pregnant and not taking every measure possible for a healthy baby. But no. Just my cycle out of whack. 

Isaac hit three and a half in October, and I'm aware that my boys are leaving the "little years." Nolan is already out of there. And Isaac is close on his heels (literally and figuratively). It feels like I'm leaving a season I was never ready to see end. Adam and I often comment on the perks of our kids getting out of the needy and demanding younger years. But we'd start over with another one in a heartbeat. 

All this to say, October ended up being tricky. 

BUT.

I'm reading Tozer's The Pursuit of God, and I've been convicted in every chapter to want God more than I want anything else. In chapter three he says, "...God is so vastly wonderful, so utterly and completely delightful that He can, without anything other than Himself, meet and overflow the deepest demands of our total nature, mysterious and deep as that nature is." That is where I want to be. The prayer of my heart has been, "I long to long for You only." 

In Daniel 6, King Darius discovers that Daniel has survived the night with the lions, and he says about the God of Daniel, "for he is the living God, enduring forever; his kingdom shall never be destroyed, and his dominion shall be to the end. He delivers and rescues; he works signs and wonders in heaven and on earth, he who has saved Daniel from the power of the lions." (6:26-27)

I wrote this on an index card to keep in my Bible. I'm thankful this is the God I serve and worship. And He's still a Rescuer and Deliverer. His signs and wonders are on display, and I'm try to be more intentional about noticing them. 

God is aware of how I feel about my new diet. God knows the desire of my heart regarding our family. And God Himself is more than enough to satisfy me. And I do believe that is true. I'm just not always convinced. So, when the overwhelming desire to hold our baby hits, "God, you are enough. I want You more than I want our baby." When I want to throw a pity party about the dietary restrictions, "God, I want you more than I want a fixed digestive system. You are enough." I rarely FEEL that way, but I think I've said this many times, I cannot trust my feelings. When I was at a Biblical Counseling training class, the teacher said repeatedly, "Do not trust your heart! Your heart is fickle! TRUST YOUR HEAD!" 

I imagine the holidays could be a roller coaster this year. I'm working to be filled with gratitude in every high and every low. He is enough. He's given me more than I ever could deserve. His grace is evident in every moment of every day. And I will keep uttering my heart's longings while asking Him for more of Himself. 

The Light Is Coming

In the days leading up to the first due date empty of any hopeful expectation, I was quite honestly, not doing well. The whole week prior to August 12th I'd often be crying or fighting back tears with very little provoking. I was reading the book Love Lives Here by Maria Goff, just crying when she'd be talking about her family. I sent my brother an e-mail communicating a decision I knew he wouldn't like, and I tearfully hit send and then cried some more. I don't even want to know what Adam was thinking all week long.

Then August 12th came and went, and it was far more gentle than the days leading up to it. So, I assumed the heaviness of the week was just me needing to get over this hump.

And I did see improvements, but something was still lingering.   

I'm doing a Bible Study on Philippians focused on unshakeable joy. I've been looking at the life of Paul and all of his struggles and his posture and heart attitude about all of it. And I keep wondering what's wrong with me. Something has seemed so off. There has been no sweet nearness to the Lord in this season of surrender and sorrow. I've had to cling to Truth and try to train my mind to believe it because I certainly wasn't feeling it. I've worked to have certain triggers in my days be reminders to turn towards God and be grateful. And in all of this, I'm knowing James 4:8 that says, "Draw near to God and He will draw near to you." And thinking, "Ok! PLEASE draw near, God." I've said to numerous people, the thought of wasting all of this loss is so unsettling. 

I was reading Steven Curtis Chapman's book Between Heaven And the Real World. I got to the part where he loses his daughter in a horrific accident, which of course, I sobbed through. I cannot fathom their loss nor the circumstances around it. He shares about several people mentioning a full blown attack from the enemy on their family. And something inside of me broke. 

For literally the first time since June 11th when I lost our second baby, the thought crossed my mind that maybe the enemy was at work in all of this. And I wept. 

The confusion, the doubts, the wondering if our family would ever grow again, the loneliness, the exhaustion, could there be more going on than meets the eye? Have I been struggling and not even considered the spiritual battle going on? Something clicked.

I'm not saying Satan took the lives of my babies. I am saying the mess and turmoil that's been going on in and around me since then has LIES written all over it. 

And I've had to repent for being complicit with the lies of the enemy. For believing things about God and His ways that are not true. And in a small way, a little fight came back in me. There's been new hope that is weak but there. It's not that all of a sudden I think things will drastically change for my family, but I do have fresh resolve to not let the enemy get victory that's not his.

As this lightbulb moment that I do believe the Holy Spirit allowed me to have has been good, there are still moments of sneaky grief that catch me off guard. And the response for me right now has to be this- gratitude, gratitude, gratitude. I've been given far more than I could ever deserve, and I bow my tear streaked face in gratitude. 

An author I love wrote about this scripture that is now on a 3x5 card in my Bible. "I will give you treasures of darkness and hidden riches of secret places, that you may know that I, the Lord, who call you by your name, am the God of Israel." Isaiah 45:3 

Treasures of darkness. That's a treasure most people don't want, as you can't see it while it's still dark. But it's there. 

And I have to believe the Light is coming, and I will see those treasures! 



  

Sweet Baby

My Sweet Baby,

It's your due date! I can only assume you would NOT have arrived today because neither of your brothers came on theirs. But this morning I pictured what it would be like to see a tiny version of you for the first time, and it made my heart ache in a way I can't even begin to express. I imagined your little self wrapped up snug in a hospital blanket with just your face visible, and I wished with all I had that I knew what your soft cheeks felt like. Perfect, I'm sure.

When I first told your Daddy that I had a baby growing in my tummy, he was immediately over the moon thrilled. Once we knew you were there, there literally wasn't even a second that you weren't wanted. Not even a second. Immediately we made space for you in our hearts and pictured you in our family. Sweet baby, we loved you from the beginning. 

I'm so sad we won't be meeting here on Earth. I don't even know what it will be like to meet in Heaven. I'm thankful that you'll never ache for me like I ache for you. You've never lacked one single thing. You've only known perfection. You have no concept of what it's like to be missing you. And I love that for you. But I can't help but wonder what that moment will be like when I see you for the first time. I like to think that I'm going to know it the moment I lay eyes on you. 

Being a mom, it's so weird to realize that you've done so much more for me than I ever got to do for you. Typically the balance is tipped so heavily the other direction. But not with you. I only had a few weeks to care for you. But you've brought me to the feet of Jesus over and over and over. You've made me really look at who God is and who His word says He is. You've opened my eyes to see people hurting around me. Baby, God used you to change me. And He's not done yet. This Mama still has a long ways to go, but you'll forever be a part of my story. Our story. You are the catalyst for a greater dependence on the Lord. What a gift! 

I still don't understand why God gave you to us for such a short time, and I'm confident I never will. And that's okay. I do know this- I'm so thankful God did write you into our story. And I'm thankful that's He's trustworthy in all of our sadness and disappointment as we aren't holding you in our arms. 

I love you, my sweet baby. 
I always will.

Love,
Your Mama

To 5 Year Old Nolan

Oh Nolan,

You're five, little boy. You hold up a whole hand when people ask you how old you are, and I'm just not sure how I feel about it. Watching you get older just toys with my heart. While I love seeing you grow and own who you are as a bigger boy, I ache knowing that these little years have slipped by. Time can be such a trickster. 

This past year held a little bit of magic that I hope I treasure forever. I watched you welcome and love Sammy in a way that even Mommy struggled to do at times. You truly loved him and cared for him in a selfless way that I wanted to emulate. You often considered him more important than yourself, and your pursuit of him would not be hindered despite his struggle to connect with others. Nolan, it was unbelievable. I'll never forget your heart for Sammy. I can only hope it extends to the next kiddo that enters our home.

You still have an enthusiasm for life that is unparalleled. You are exuberant and energetic in all things. You take delight in life's simplest joys, and I absolutely adore that about you. 

On several occasions, you were my biggest cheerleader, and it dissolved my heart into a puddle every time. I took on a few baking jobs this spring that nearly sent me over the edge. You genuinely and whole heartedly believed in me and cheered me on. I won't forget putting you to bed, knowing I still had to conquer another dozen cake pops, and you wrapped your arms around my neck and said, "You got it, Mommy! I know you can do it!" I literally cried. And you celebrated my job completed the next morning. Buddy, you are the best!

This year we certainly had our fair share of butting heads. Honestly, kid, your inclination to argue can make my head hurt. But I've tried and tried to tell myself that this can all be for good one day. I sure do hope you argue for what is right and just in your future. I hope you stand up for Truth and defend the weak. Because oh my word, you can wear a person down. 

I love you, Nolan. I feel like I've failed you so many times, yet you love me regardless. You've extended forgiveness when I didn't deserve it, and I'm grateful. Watching you transition into a big kid will probably keep me on an emotional rollercoaster. And I've mostly accepted that.

Buddy, I love you. I like you. I enjoy you. And I'm proud of you. 
Always.

Love,
Mommy

He's a Whole Hand

Nolan turned 5. And he's pretty excited about it. When he came downstairs the morning of his birthday, he was literally running laps around the house, 100% convinced that he was faster. Honestly, I was kind of convinced, too.

This kid went to school for the first time. He went two days a week, and that was just right for him. He thoroughly enjoyed going to school, but every single time we picked him up, he wanted to know what went on at home without him. He had his best buddy in his class, and that made for a very, very fun year. It was neat to watch him grow in confidence and be genuinely excited for what his day of preschool would hold.

He also played on his first soccer team, and HE LOVED IT! He played with the biggest smile and the most enthusiasm. When he scored, he'd look around for people to be cheering for him. Adam helped coach the team, and Nolan would run up to him for high fives every single time. It was so fun to watch him do something he loves.

Nolan got promoted to big brother of two for most of the last year. He took in Sammy as his own brother from day one. It was truly remarkable, and one of the most memorable parts about our first foster placement. Nolan has been quite the hospitable little boy for the past couple of years, but it got taken to a whole different level with Sammy boy. It was amazing to watch. 

Nolan's love for sports is growing, and his dad is thrilled. He loves watching football and basketball, and he got to experience his first Braves game. He loved it! He loves shooting hoops, kicking the soccer ball, hitting off the tee, and being a receiver when we play football (calls himself Julio Jones). The kid just loves sports!

We're starting to see some growth in Nolan's fears and anxieties. It's been a good reminder to me that the issues that can seem so frustrating and consuming will not always define our kids. Nolan loved the characters at Disney, and it was literally a paralyzing fear for him previously. He loves the beach and runs with such wild glee, and he used to hate that, too. It's been a relief to see fear and anxiety loosen their grip on him. 

These are Nolan's people (Ezra not pictured). They are his first choice for every single thing. If we lived near the North Carolina Rodriguez family, he'd lose his mind. We pray for all of his cousins every.single.night. When we are about to do something fun, he often says, "I wish Ryann and Alee were coming!" They are the best.

Nolan is turning into a big boy, and I seriously cannot even let myself think about it. This will be the final year that Nolan doesn't go to school Monday-Friday. He's doing one more year of preschool before kindergarten. And I'm hoping we can cherish our bonus year before full blown elementary school starts. 

Some noteworthy conversations that I want to remember.

Isaac: I wish I was a panther (the actual animal).
Me: Well, God made you a human.
Nolan: Isaac, if you pray and ask God to make you a panther, He can. God can do anything.
Me: (thinking to myself, "How do I explain that while God is capable of turning a human into a panther, this is not something God has a history of doing.")
Isaac: I'm going to ask.
Me: (teachable moment lost)

Nolan: When we die will we come back to life like Jesus?
Me: [pauses] Well, when we die, no. If you have a relationship with Jesus and have asked God to forgive your sins, you'll go to heaven.
Nolan: I don't have a relationship with Jesus.
I fumble my way through the Gospel at his level.
Nolan: So, is Julio Jones going to die? 

Nolan from the other room: Every time I make a bad choice, I'm going to thank God that Jesus died on the cross as my punishment. 
Me: stunned silence

This kid. He can argue with a brick wall one minute and be telling me I'm the best mom in the whole world the next. I sure do love him! 

But Even If Not

For the second time this year, I'm approaching a date on my calendar with a little black circle in the upper left corner signaling to me I could start breathing easy. And for the second time, that little black circle reminds me that life is precious and fragile and beyond my control. I'm not approaching this date with sweet relief like I hoped and prayed; instead, I'm approaching this date with a daily fight to have my hope in the One who holds this life together. 

Today, I had my final blood draw to do one last set of tests, and my doctor met with me to discuss what it could look like to move forward. As I waited in the room for the doctor to enter, I could a hear a Mama in the room next door getting her ultrasound. That swoosh, swoosh, swoosh was so loud, and I whispered out loud, "Savor it." I fought to get control of my emotions, as I was determined to not cry this time, I repeated the verse that has become just second nature to pray, "But I will hope continually and praise you yet more and more. My mouth will tell of your righteous acts, of your deeds of salvation all the day, for their number is past my knowledge." Psalm 71:14-15

Adam and I have processed this loss much differently from each other this time around, and it's required an intentional effort to be gracious with each other as we deal with what happened and look to what's next. Since Sammy left, our plan was to re-open our home to another foster placement at the end of summer if we weren't expecting a baby. We now face that reality. Knowing that at this point, we have no plans to try to grow our family with another biological child, we are left trusting God to grow our family as He sees fit. Our hearts are for fostering, and even if another Tomberlin had arrived in August or February, our plan was always to re-open our home at some point. 

But I now know that fostering is H A R D. It's hard and slow and long work. As previously stated, it's worthwhile work. We also know that this does not guarantee us more permanent members in our family. And in the last month, I've had to work ( WORK ) to accept that the picture I had for my family may not ever come to fruition. While people try to assure me that if we are willing to take in children, surely God will give us more, it doesn't really give me any sort of reassurance. Adam has said the number of kids needing a family far outnumber the families willing to take them in. Which is probably true. But if this experience has taught me anything, it's that God's plans don't always line up with ours. 

But even if God doesn't bring us more kids, can I be fully satisfied in Him and live with joy in light of my salvation?

I've read the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego many times, but I've read it again recently. They stand before King Nebuchadnezzar refusing to bow down before his idol, and he makes it clear they are headed for the furnace. They quickly answer with confidence that their God is capable of delivering them from this furnace and from his hand, but they say even if He does not, they will not bow down, remaining steadfast in their devotion and worship to God alone.

I, too, know what my God is capable of, but even if He does not, I will not waiver in my devotion and worship of Him. And sometimes I can say that with confidence. And sometimes I'm asking the Holy Spirit to strengthen my inner being to be confident in that. I've been reading a lot of books on the character of God, and I am sure of this- my God is a good God, and His love for me has not wavered as I've struggled to accept this latest blow. 

God can grow our family, but even if not, my heart is His. My life is His. And I will continue to hope and praise Him yet more and more. My mouth will tell of His righteous acts. For their number is beyond my knowledge.