Now I will tell you that a little nip and tuck would be nice, ok? Well, except that when you start fixing one part the rest starts looking worse, or so I hear. (Like the plastic version of "If you give a mouse a cookie"?) I liked my idea of saving for a little lift for the girls until I had unexpected surgery and let me tell you general anesthesia is no joke. So now I just embrace it all.
This same tummy I work hard to try and flatten? It housed two precious babies for nine months. Right under my heart. The stretch marks on my sides I like to call "tiger tried to get me but I was too fast and got away. Rawr!" Mine on my lower belly? That second little one was a long, long baby and she just kept dropping. I call those "drop um like they're hot". (Because battle scars are oh so hot, in case you didn't know.)
I have a bellybutton scar and five additional scars from the removal of my third precious baby who sadly didn't make it. I don't blog about this often so bear with me. I'm not sure how, but going shoe shopping with my mom the other day brought this all on. And, well, God asked me to write about it so here we go.
If I am ever in need of anything for my wardrobe, my mom comes to the rescue. Her store is Belks- Modern, Southern, Style. We go and we shop and we browse and we meander. She always knows what is fashionable both for all ages. It's just her thing. Sometimes she needs to pry me out of the house. It's not that I don't like being "put together", as she says, it's just I'm not quite sure where my wants and needs intersect sometimes. If my shoes fit, and they still feel good, I overlook their ratty appearance.
So when we went shopping the other day, and I found a pair of tan leather flats I loved, I just wasn't sure if I really needed them. So my mom asked, "Carla, when was the last time you bought dress shoes?" So I went through my dress shoe list. There are the amazing black flats I had to get from Payless way back before kids. I got those beauties in my husband's small little hometown. (I had forgotten my bag at home and had no clothes or shoes and my Type A freaked out but I love those shoes. He works all things for the good and He sure does in the form of women's shoes. Someone is giving me an amen I can feel it.) Then there were those great gold flats from Target that I got on clearance but really should have gotten a half size larger because they are beautiful but useless. Just dang useless.
Then she asked me about my shoes I was wearing. I looked down at the grey shoes on my feet. They suede ones with the rhinestones on the top. Bedazzled like an 80's beast. Then I said, "Oh mom. I got these after my OB appointment. Remember when you watched the girls? I called you from the parking lot."
These grey shoes reflect so much of me right now. I have hung on to those shoes. They are starting to get ratty, I've thought a couple of times perhaps I should donate or toss them. But I have hung on.
Down the road from the doctor's office was a shoe store where I could decompress and I found the glitziest pair of grey suede shoes I could find. Comfortable enough. Grey. With a glimmer of hope. Just like I was feeling.
I went home and had no answers for my mom or husband. The doctors are still surprised I made it through my particular miscarriage. I am meant to walk this earth longer and thankful to God, is what I thought. My shoes never made up for this loss but I sure did try.
So I wear these shoes. Year after year. Three and a half years have passed now. They really are a great color. Grey goes with pretty much everything (feel free to correct me) and well, the glitter. There is hope in the glitter.
There is always hope in the glitter.
I told someone the other day that becoming a mother isn't about the baby years. It's about the growing years. It's not about when they are four months, but 14 years and older that we hang on to. It's seeing them grow in front of us into the person God intends for them to be. It's about the grace God gives us just to be a part of it.
It's also about growth for us mamas. It's not about me as a mama to a little baby, it's about learning how my baby grows and helps me become a better parent and become the woman He intends for me to be. It's about counseling those little lives and in turn having God do heart surgery on me. Teaching me more of him. Drawing me to himself even if my prayers are simply, "Lord, help me." It's bringing me to a state of humility that I don't have all the answers, but I am connected to the One who does.
So these shoes are getting donated. My mom has politely asked me to do so. She is right. They are ratty. They are well-worn, a little tear stained, and well, it's time.
This side of heaven I didn't get to meet that little one but the loss of his/her life has surely met my heart. It has met me with so many lessons learned, with gratitude paving the way for my future. I will surely thank that sweet one in heaven for my growth here on earth.
Even though the life has passed, the love lessons continue to rain from heaven.
I thank God for how it has brought my husband and I closer. I'm at a place of daily thankfulness for our two babies on earth. The ones that are shopping for me something. They will probably wrap it all pretty with a bow and proudly give it to me to open. Tell me they chose it special. That they love me and goodness knows they may never know how much I love them. They just may never know.
They are my gift this Mother's day.
God has turned my grey into gladness. My mourning into thankfulness. It may not seem like it at first, but with the hope eternal there is always some glimmer in the grey. Sometimes it's hard to see, but it's there.
Down the road from the doctor's office was a shoe store where I could decompress and I found the glitziest pair of grey suede shoes I could find. Comfortable enough. Grey. With a glimmer of hope. Just like I was feeling.
I went home and had no answers for my mom or husband. The doctors are still surprised I made it through my particular miscarriage. I am meant to walk this earth longer and thankful to God, is what I thought. My shoes never made up for this loss but I sure did try.
So I wear these shoes. Year after year. Three and a half years have passed now. They really are a great color. Grey goes with pretty much everything (feel free to correct me) and well, the glitter. There is hope in the glitter.
There is always hope in the glitter.
I told someone the other day that becoming a mother isn't about the baby years. It's about the growing years. It's not about when they are four months, but 14 years and older that we hang on to. It's seeing them grow in front of us into the person God intends for them to be. It's about the grace God gives us just to be a part of it.
It's also about growth for us mamas. It's not about me as a mama to a little baby, it's about learning how my baby grows and helps me become a better parent and become the woman He intends for me to be. It's about counseling those little lives and in turn having God do heart surgery on me. Teaching me more of him. Drawing me to himself even if my prayers are simply, "Lord, help me." It's bringing me to a state of humility that I don't have all the answers, but I am connected to the One who does.
So these shoes are getting donated. My mom has politely asked me to do so. She is right. They are ratty. They are well-worn, a little tear stained, and well, it's time.
This side of heaven I didn't get to meet that little one but the loss of his/her life has surely met my heart. It has met me with so many lessons learned, with gratitude paving the way for my future. I will surely thank that sweet one in heaven for my growth here on earth.
Even though the life has passed, the love lessons continue to rain from heaven.
I thank God for how it has brought my husband and I closer. I'm at a place of daily thankfulness for our two babies on earth. The ones that are shopping for me something. They will probably wrap it all pretty with a bow and proudly give it to me to open. Tell me they chose it special. That they love me and goodness knows they may never know how much I love them. They just may never know.
They are my gift this Mother's day.
God has turned my grey into gladness. My mourning into thankfulness. It may not seem like it at first, but with the hope eternal there is always some glimmer in the grey. Sometimes it's hard to see, but it's there.
Happy Mother's Day.
Carla, this is just so perfect and beautiful. So well-written, as usual. I, too, am reflecting on my little one lost and on the blessing it is to be a mommy to all 4 (well, 5) of my sweet children. Life is grand. And grey. With a lot of glitter mixed in. Happy Mother's Day to you. You deserve a great one!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Jenn:) I am so thankful for you and your family and all the good that comes from your crew. God is using you in amazing ways! Happy Mother's Day to you, sweet friend! I hope you are very spoiled today with love and goodies!
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