Panic

Getting older freaks me out. When I think about the fact that I'm nearing thirty, my throat gets tight and my breathing quickens. What is it about aging that gets me so worked up? Is it that I feel I haven't really lived yet? I wouldn't think so. I'm happy with where I am in life. I'm a mother to an incredible child. I'm involved in my community. I have a lot of love to give to the people around me. Maybe it's that I feel I had to grow up too fast? I got married very young. I don't regret marrying Ryan, not one bit. I truly wouldn't change that for the world. I do feel that I had to be responsible too early on in my youth. I never went through that carefree, spontaneous stage that most kids get to experience. I feel a little regret there. I get so hung up on nostalgia because of this. In reality, my teenage years weren't that amazing, but my mind has warped them into something they're not. In my memory, they're almost dream-like. It's crazy. I really do need to figure out how to move on from this. It definitely holds me back from looking forward to growing older. Yes, I became "adult-like" very early on. Yes, I missed out on some things because of this. But I also probably avoided a lot of heartache as well. I am aging, but I am not old. There's still a lot of life ahead.

Hodge Podge

You know why I haven't written lately? I have too much to say and I don't know how to start. Ergo, this blog will be a hodge podge of all that has been on my mind and heart as of late.

For starters, I finally feel confident. Not a cocky confidence, but more so a realization that I am who I am, and I accept myself. I used to be the type of person that needed outside assurance that I was a good person, pretty, <>. As of the last few years, I've given myself some slack. Your outward appearance doesn't define you. Having confidence in yourself is the best "beauty treatment" you could possibly give yourself. Confidence is sexy. Yes, sexy. When you let the opinions of others roll off your back, it is so freeing. I have come to realize that I was, indeed, created in God's image. This gives me fearlessness.

I hope you all know by now that I am a christian. I fully believe in God, in his mercy, in his love, and in what awaits us after we leave this earth. I strive to not be a cheesy, un-relatable christian. But one that is real, is honest about my short-comings (which are many many many), and one who strives to show God's love. God has given me a very sensitive heart, which has helped me feel love and empathy towards the people around me. Sometimes I feel it is a little too sensitive. I was openly weeping while driving last week after witnessing chickens being transported to their demise. Seriously, God, I think I need a little more toughness in that area. I wonder how God is going to be able to use me when I can't handle the awfulness of so many realities. Anyway, this is not where I was intending to go with this post.. I wasn't always so confident in the realness of God. In the past, I've been very bitter, pessimistic, and cynical when it came to my faith. I've since learned that we don't live in a perfect world. Not even close. The Bible never said that life would be fair. It never said that the good hearted would live and succeed. It never said those you love would always be protected and kept safe. It never said your body would work perfectly. It never said you would be able to have children naturally. It never said (are you ready?) that your children would outlive you. I know I bring it up often here, but when Eli died..so did my faith temporarily. I questioned everything I had been taught. It all comes down to love. I know God loves me. I know I love him. I've learned there are things we experience on this earth that we'll never understand. We just need to "keep on keeping on" and strive towards the big picture.

Love.each.other.

When you least expect it.

It's 1:15 and I can't sleep. When this happens, I usually find myself aimlessly surfing the internet. Tonight I came across a blog of a woman who lost her teenage son earlier this year. My heart broke for her, and I couldn't stop the tears. I had to muffle my sobs so that I wouldn't wake up Ryan who is peacefully asleep next to me. Something she wrote just hit me with its rawness. She talked about how, when it gets cold outside, she wishes she could keep his body warm like she used to do when he was a child. She explained how she still couldn't get it through her head that he was actually gone, and that the body that was in the ground wasn't her son anymore.

It reminded me of Eli's funeral, and how I had to leave while they were lowering his tiny casket into the ground. It was wintertime in IL and I couldn't handle him being laid to rest in the frozen ground. How I wanted to see him just once more in this life, but I was too scared to see what he looked like that far into death.

I got to hold him after he was born. He was initially so warm, but that faded. The last kiss I had given him on his sweet face had felt so cold. I've blocked out so much of that day because it was so hard to handle, but every December 5th brings me back to it.

The pastor that attended the funeral from St. Anthony's Hospital gave us a small teddy bear that day. Its current home is on the top of Jackson's dresser. It's become his new favorite toy, which is bittersweet for me. Jackson calls him "baby bear" and totes him all over the house. I'm almost as protective of it as I am of Jackson. It's silly.

For the most part, I really have come to terms with the loss of Eli. God is giving him a perfect life. I'm grateful for that. But every once and a while, this pain creeps in

Amazed

My son is at the age where he's learning multiple new things daily. His brain is literally like a sponge. I can show him how to do something one time, and he's a pro at it a second later. It honestly amazes me how much of a miracle children are. Seeing the honest wonder in his eyes as he goes through many "firsts" in life brings out the inner child in me as well. It reminds me of how big of a responsibility we have as his parents. We are in charge of a life. Our children are dependent on us to teach them the basics of living, how to treat others, and how to love. I love his innocence. Just some thoughts going through my mind on this mundane Tuesday morning.

Lucky

I have to say that my son saying "hi" with his tiny voice and waving emphatically at everyone in sight is the cutest thing in the whole world. That is all.

157 Pages That Changed My Life

There are very few moments in my life that are important enough to be tucked away in my permanent memory vault. Some of those rare experiences are, of course, the birth of Jackson, my first date with Ryan, the first time I sang on stage, my wedding day, intimate conversations with close friends, etc. The one that just might stick out above all the rest is the loss of Eli. There are times where I feel my heart has just about healed, but something happens that rips the sutures right out and leaves the wound exposed. An innocent little question like, "how many children do you have" causes me to inwardly wrestle with myself about how I should answer. "Only one" is a lie in my eyes. Usually, I say it anyway to avoid the awkwardness that comes with explaining the full story. When this happens, I try my hardest to stuff those tender feelings right back where they belong and sew it up again. I've probably gone through spools and spools of imaginary thread doing so.

Yesterday, something happened which caused that hurt to come spilling out..and start to heal. I'd gone over to my parents house to swim for a bit while I put Jackson down for a nap. My mom had given me a book to read called "Heaven Is For Real" by Todd Burpo. It was a small, non-intimidating little book, so I figured I'd take the opportunity to float in the pool and crack it open. (Spoiler alert-This book is currently in my "permanent memory vault"..). The concept of the book was really intriguing to me. It's about a little boy named Colton who almost died on an operating table and lived to tell about his journey to heaven and back. Colton came back with biblical information that he'd had no knowledge of before. Information that no almost-four-year-old would ever be aware of. I could go on and on about the details he gave literally took my breath away, but my advice would just be to read it for yourself. It only takes a few hours and it's worth it. The part that was the most life-changing for me was when Colton came to his mom asking about his "other sister." Rather than try to describe it, I'm just going to share what the book actually says:

"Mommy, I have two sisters," Colton said.
I put down my pen. Sonja didn't. She kept on working.
Colton repeated himself. "Mommy, I have two sisters."
Sonja looked up from her paperwork and shook her head slightly. "No, you have your sister, Cassie, and...do you mean your cousin, Traci?"
"No." Colton clipped off the word adamantly. "I have two sisters. You had a baby die in your tummy, didn't you?"
At that moment, time stopped in the Burpo household, and Sonja's eyes grew wide. Just a few seconds before, Colton had been trying unsuccessfully to get his mom to listen to him. Now, even from the kitchen table, I could see that he had her undivided attention.
"Who told you I had a baby die in my tummy?" Sonja said, her tone serious.
"She did, Mommy. She said she died in your tummy.".....
...A bit nervously, Colton slunk back around the couch and faced his mom again, this time much more warily. "It's okay, Mommy," he said. "She's okay. God adopted her."
Sonja slid off the couch and knelt down in front of Colton so that she could look him in the eyes. "Don't you mean Jesus adopted her?" She said.
"No, Mommy. His Dad did!".....
...Now Colton went on without prompting. "In heaven, this little girl ran up to me, and she wouldn't stop hugging me," he said in a tone that clearly indicated he didn't enjoy all this hugging from a girl....
...Sonja's eyes lit up and she asked, "What was her name? What was the little girl's name?"
Colton seemed to forget about the yucky girl hugs for a moment. "She doesn't have a name. You guys didn't name her."
How did he know that?
"You're right, Colton," Sonja said. "We didn't even know she was a she."
Then Colton said something that still rings in my ears: "Yeah, she said she just can't wait for you and Daddy to get to heaven."
From the kitchen table, I could see that Sonja was barely holding it together. She gave Colton a kiss and told him he could go play. And when he left the room, tears spilled over her cheeks.
"Our baby is okay," she whispered. "Our baby is okay."

While I never doubted where Eli is, it's so reassuring to know that he really is okay. Thank you, God, for being the parent I wish I could be for my sweet, little son. It also warms my heart to know that he isn't nameless right now. I can't wait to meet you, baby boy!

A Little Perspective

I realize this blog has been entirely neglected lately, and it's about time I started writing again. A lot has happened since my last post. Mainly the fact that I've become a mother to the sweetest, cutest, smartest little boy on the planet. He has given my life a whole new meaning and has helped me grow in more ways than one. I look forward to waking up every day just to see his precious, gap-toothed smile looking up at me. He is my purpose right now.

It's taken a lot to get me to this point in my life. Let me paint you a picture. I haven't taken the typical "young person's" route during my late teens/twenties. If you'd given me a glimpse into my future at age 18, I'd be shocked at my journey up to this point. Some things I'd change, but most I wouldn't. This is what 18-yr-old me would have seen: I didn't go directly to a university after high school. I actually didn't go to one at all. No degree. I dropped out of community college at least 3 times. I would have had my heart broken by someone who didn't deserve it in the first place. Shortly after, I'd meet a wonderful man (boy, really) and would get married before I could legally drink. Barely making it from paycheck to pay check, we'd have to cut corners (and bills) wherever we could. We would move into a critter-infested apartment only to purchase our "dream home" (double-wide trailer) a few short years later. I'm only writing this to put the overly-used phrase "don't judge a book by its cover" in a whole new light. Think twice before putting a label on anyone. I know I do.

After becoming slightly more self-sufficient financially, we moved into a nice little townhouse and put our thoughts towards starting a family. I got pregnant fairly quickly, only to lose the baby five months into the pregnancy. The five days we spent in the hospital trying to hold on to hope that the baby would live was the most trying time of my life thus far. I can't even describe what it took mentally to keep that hope going. It's all we had. I gave birth to Eli James McHugh on December 5th, 2008. I watched his tiny little foot move once and then no more. In death, both Ryan and I got to hold the little boy we would never get to know. The only tangible things we have now of Eli are photos and a grave site. This, and also the many complications of my pregnancy with Jackson, gave me extreme anxiety which I'm still dealing with today. It was the finger on the trigger to what already was an underlying problem. Day by day, I'm dealing with it.

The events in my adult life have truly given me a whole new perspective on life. First, be open with people. Don't judge them. Life really is all about love and relationships, and I want my heart to be my legacy. I want people to know that they can come to me, and that I'll honestly care. Because I will. I have a lot of love to give, and I can't wait to find an outlet for it to be put to use.

Second, stop complaining. I see so many people openly complaining about such trivial little things. Be happy you're alive. Be happy you still have time to change what you don't like about your life. Be positive. Stress causes too many problems, both mentally and physically. It's not worth it. Plus, it gives you wrinkles..come on now.

Third, look outside of yourself. Another point to my candidness is to open up your eyes to the fact that everyone has a story. Your angry co-worker could be going through depression. The person who just cut you off on the road could have just lost someone close to them. The rude cashier could be dealing with loneliness. Whatever the case may be. Again, life is about relationships. And love. Give it freely to strangers. You'll be surprised at the results.

I'm a far cry from perfect. Thank God for that. Please forgive my next statement, for it's really cheesy. "God doesn't call the equipped, He equips the called." I don't have to be perfect to make a difference in this world. I'm not where I want to be yet in life, but I'll get there. Do I have regrets? Of course! Anyone who says they don't is lying to themselves. Thank God we're all in it together.

I love you all, truthfully.

Here's to being a better blogger!

-Rachel

p.s.-I'm not proof-reading! Hmmph!