Monday
Make-Ahead Muffin Melts
Tuesday
Dinner @ Mom's -- Anthony has a softball game this evening
Wednesday
Taco Soup
Thursday
Spaghetti & Meatballs
Friday
Beef Burritos
Saturday
Garlic Lemon Pork
Monday, April 22, 2013
Monday, April 15, 2013
Meal Plan Monday
Monday
Pizza Stuffed Shells
Tuesday
Homemade Pizza (didn't have this last week)
Wednesday
Spaghetti & Meatballs
Thursday
Taco Soup
Friday
Crockpot Cube Steak & Gravy
Saturday
Leftovers/Out to eat w/ gift card??
Pizza Stuffed Shells
Tuesday
Homemade Pizza (didn't have this last week)
Wednesday
Spaghetti & Meatballs
Thursday
Taco Soup
Friday
Crockpot Cube Steak & Gravy
Saturday
Leftovers/Out to eat w/ gift card??
Monday, April 8, 2013
Meal Plan Monday
Monday
Papa John's Pizza
Tuesday
Pork Loin
Wednesday
Might use a Subway gift card, or eat at Mom's before church
Thursday
Pork BBQ Sandwiches
Friday
Homemade Pizza
Saturday
Vicky is coming to visit and bringing us Tokyo!!!
Papa John's Pizza
Tuesday
Pork Loin
Wednesday
Might use a Subway gift card, or eat at Mom's before church
Thursday
Pork BBQ Sandwiches
Friday
Homemade Pizza
Saturday
Vicky is coming to visit and bringing us Tokyo!!!
Sunday, April 7, 2013
Who You Are
I first heard this song probably 3 or 4 months ago, long before we lost Asa. I was going through a trial of sorts at that time. Back in October or November I found out that my most recent pap smear was abnormal. I didn't share this with many people because a lot of what I read and heard told me that this would probably be turn out to be nothing, but of course it was still scary for me thinking of all the "what if's". So I heard this song in the midst of that time and the words "I don't know what You're doing, but I know who You are" really struck me, and I actually cried listening to the song. {Side note: I had a colposcopy and biopsy and everything came back normal.}
Then fast forward a few months. Since losing Asa, I feel like this has been "my song". The one song that has meant the most to me and has really described how I've felt.
"I don't know what You're doing"
I don't really know why God chose to take Asa away from us. I wish there had been some other way to accomplish His purposes, one that didn't bring us so much pain and one that didn't leave us missing part of our family, a piece of us. Because of the limited view of eternity I have, there is just no way for me to understand.
"But I know who You are"
BUT. I know that He is merciful and gracious and abundant in goodness and truth (Exodus 34:6). I know He is my refuge (Deut. 33:27). I know that He is my strength and my help in trouble (Psalm 46:1). I know He is the strength of my heart and my portion (Psalm 73:26). I know that He is gracious and righteous (Psalm 116:5). I know that He is faithful (1 Cor. 1:9). I know that He is good and does good (Psalm 119:68).
"And You know what it's like to lose
Yeah, You know what it's like
What it's like to lose a child"
I think the first time I heard this song after we said goodbye to Asa was the first time, in my heavy grief, that I thought about the fact that God had also lost a child. He knew just what I was feeling - He has been here.
I'm so thankful for the gift of music and the role it can play in the healing process, and even more thankful for a God who understands my pain.
Monday, April 1, 2013
Asa Michael - Birth Story (Part 2)
When I left off with part 1, we were making our way to the hospital to do the unthinkable: deliver our son who had already gone to be with Jesus. Anthony parked the jeep and we started that long walk to the birthing suite. The whole way I was hoping no one would stop us to talk. I certainly didn't have a belly that was "ready to pop" but it was big enough to know that I was pregnant. Thankfully, no one stopped us. We walked through the lobby, where a man was playing the piano. When the elevator finally came to us, we joined a doctor who was getting off on the second floor. Our stop was the third floor. We got off the elevator and continued on our way, around the corner and to the right, there it was: the heavy, wooden double doors with the black and white "Birthing Suite" sign above. I lost it. I had to stop and lean into Anthony while I cried for the child that would not leave the birthing suite with me.
As we were paused there a hospital worker, a man, came up past us. He was pushing a cart and was also going into the birthing suite. You have to push an intercom button to be let in the doors and since we were stopped he stepped past us to push the button. He told the voice on the other end who he was and he told them someone else was there, I'm sure not really knowing what to make of the situation, and he paused for me to give the name: "Tara Tyler", through my tears. He said "someone to see Tara Tyler", and I managed to get out "It's me" before losing control again. The weight of it all was so heavy on me -- "It's me" -- the thing that you think won't ever happen to you, it happened to me. So he corrected himself to the nurse on the intercom and she buzzed us through.
It was so hard to will my feet to keep going, past the beautiful newborn photographs on the wall, and even harder to pass by the nursery and the patient rooms. In one of them I saw a mother holding her new baby, all bundled up, pink and healthy. We turned left around the corner to go to the nurses station to check in. Of course they knew I was coming then and even if they didn't, I'm sure my tears would have given away my name. They verified some information and weighed me and then led me to the room we would be in. The lady told me she was sorry, gave me a gown to change into, and then went to go try to find a box of tissues for me. It was maybe around 1:30 or 2:00 at this time.
After I got changed and settled into bed, my nurse, Nancy came in. She was with me a long time while I labored with Declan, so I remembered her. She told me that she was so sorry that this happened and let me cry while she hugged me. I'm glad she was my first nurse this time - I only wish she could have been there longer (she got off at 3:00, I think). She tried to get my iv started, but as was the case with all my children, my veins are hard to get. It was even worse than normal this time, I'm sure since I had been crying so much and was probably a little dehydrated. After 3 or 4 nurses had tried, and both arms had been warm-packed, I think it was Summer, the charge nurse, who finally got the iv. So I ended up with bruises on both hands and both "inner elbows" because they had to stick me so many times between trying to get the iv and taking blood. To be honest though, it was a little sad when those bruises disappeared since they were a connection to Asa for me.
After the iv was in, we just were waiting for a while, for Dr. McMillan to come and get things started. That was one of the hard parts of this whole ordeal - the waiting. When Dr. McMillan got there, it was around 4:00pm. He inserted a Cervidil, which is used for ripening the cervix in hopes of starting labor. He chose to go with this method first because it is an insert that is attached to a string (as opposed to a tablet that dissolves), so if contractions were too strong or something was going wrong, they could remove the insert. The Cervidil would stay in for 12 hours. So then it was just the waiting game to see what would happen. So while it was hard just waiting and hoping for something to happen, we also experienced fun and laughter during the waiting, something I can only attribute to the peace and grace of the Lord.
At some point in the afternoon my mom and Ashley had come to the hospital to keep us company. Pastor Don came to see us first and pray with us, and I appreciate that so much. Kay, one of my mom's best friends and a dear friend to us, more like family really (Meme Kay, to my kids) came for a while, as did my amazing friend Summer (Pastor Don's daughter). Summer lost her little boy Tyson to cancer when he was 2 years old. I'm struggling to even find the words to describe how much her visit meant to me. She hugged me for the longest time and cried with me like no one else has. She knew exactly what it was to lose a son and she carried that burden with me. I have a much better understanding now of what Paul was speaking of in 2 Corinthians when he said "that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God".
The evening went on and we watched tv, talked, and played a new game that Anthony found on the ipad called Fun Run. That game brought us a lot of laughter and we are still playing it. :) However, nothing was happening labor-wise. I thought I was never going to be able to sleep that night because the bed was SO not comfortable, but somehow with the aid of 4 or 5 pillows, I was able to get comfortable enough to fall asleep. Of course I was woken up several times throughout the night for the nurses to check my vitals and shortly after 4am the nurse took the Cervidil out and I was still feeling no effects from it. I went back to sleep a while longer and I think it was 7 something when Anthony and I both woke up for the day, anxious and grieved for what it would hold, but still comforted and carried by the Lord.
Part 1
Part 3
As we were paused there a hospital worker, a man, came up past us. He was pushing a cart and was also going into the birthing suite. You have to push an intercom button to be let in the doors and since we were stopped he stepped past us to push the button. He told the voice on the other end who he was and he told them someone else was there, I'm sure not really knowing what to make of the situation, and he paused for me to give the name: "Tara Tyler", through my tears. He said "someone to see Tara Tyler", and I managed to get out "It's me" before losing control again. The weight of it all was so heavy on me -- "It's me" -- the thing that you think won't ever happen to you, it happened to me. So he corrected himself to the nurse on the intercom and she buzzed us through.
It was so hard to will my feet to keep going, past the beautiful newborn photographs on the wall, and even harder to pass by the nursery and the patient rooms. In one of them I saw a mother holding her new baby, all bundled up, pink and healthy. We turned left around the corner to go to the nurses station to check in. Of course they knew I was coming then and even if they didn't, I'm sure my tears would have given away my name. They verified some information and weighed me and then led me to the room we would be in. The lady told me she was sorry, gave me a gown to change into, and then went to go try to find a box of tissues for me. It was maybe around 1:30 or 2:00 at this time.
After I got changed and settled into bed, my nurse, Nancy came in. She was with me a long time while I labored with Declan, so I remembered her. She told me that she was so sorry that this happened and let me cry while she hugged me. I'm glad she was my first nurse this time - I only wish she could have been there longer (she got off at 3:00, I think). She tried to get my iv started, but as was the case with all my children, my veins are hard to get. It was even worse than normal this time, I'm sure since I had been crying so much and was probably a little dehydrated. After 3 or 4 nurses had tried, and both arms had been warm-packed, I think it was Summer, the charge nurse, who finally got the iv. So I ended up with bruises on both hands and both "inner elbows" because they had to stick me so many times between trying to get the iv and taking blood. To be honest though, it was a little sad when those bruises disappeared since they were a connection to Asa for me.
After the iv was in, we just were waiting for a while, for Dr. McMillan to come and get things started. That was one of the hard parts of this whole ordeal - the waiting. When Dr. McMillan got there, it was around 4:00pm. He inserted a Cervidil, which is used for ripening the cervix in hopes of starting labor. He chose to go with this method first because it is an insert that is attached to a string (as opposed to a tablet that dissolves), so if contractions were too strong or something was going wrong, they could remove the insert. The Cervidil would stay in for 12 hours. So then it was just the waiting game to see what would happen. So while it was hard just waiting and hoping for something to happen, we also experienced fun and laughter during the waiting, something I can only attribute to the peace and grace of the Lord.
At some point in the afternoon my mom and Ashley had come to the hospital to keep us company. Pastor Don came to see us first and pray with us, and I appreciate that so much. Kay, one of my mom's best friends and a dear friend to us, more like family really (Meme Kay, to my kids) came for a while, as did my amazing friend Summer (Pastor Don's daughter). Summer lost her little boy Tyson to cancer when he was 2 years old. I'm struggling to even find the words to describe how much her visit meant to me. She hugged me for the longest time and cried with me like no one else has. She knew exactly what it was to lose a son and she carried that burden with me. I have a much better understanding now of what Paul was speaking of in 2 Corinthians when he said "that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God".
The evening went on and we watched tv, talked, and played a new game that Anthony found on the ipad called Fun Run. That game brought us a lot of laughter and we are still playing it. :) However, nothing was happening labor-wise. I thought I was never going to be able to sleep that night because the bed was SO not comfortable, but somehow with the aid of 4 or 5 pillows, I was able to get comfortable enough to fall asleep. Of course I was woken up several times throughout the night for the nurses to check my vitals and shortly after 4am the nurse took the Cervidil out and I was still feeling no effects from it. I went back to sleep a while longer and I think it was 7 something when Anthony and I both woke up for the day, anxious and grieved for what it would hold, but still comforted and carried by the Lord.
Part 1
Part 3
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Asa Michael - Birth Story (Part 1)
Well, I think I've finally gathered the strength to write this. In case you don't know, our son, Asa Michael Tyler, was stillborn on Saturday, March 2 at 23 weeks gestation. It's so important to me that I don't forget anything about his story, since he was with us for such a short time. His story and a few treasures (footprints, blanket, hat) are all we have left of him.
I want to back up before his actual birth story began, to where the story begins for me. On Tuesday, February 26th, I think after I had put the kids to bed is when I first noticed that I hadn't felt the baby (he didn't have a name at this time) move lately. I wasn't too worried at this point because I had felt that way before; you can imagine that with two young kids I keep fairly busy and it's always easier to feel a baby move when you are sitting and relaxing quietly. So whenever I was worried about it, I would sit, stretched out on our loveseat and almost always feel his reassuring kicks and twists and turns. This night, however, I did not.
I went to bed that night hoping I would feel him move while I was laying, trying to fall asleep. I was worried but just thought that maybe he had changed positions so it was just harder to feel him move now. Night passed and I slept okay.
Wednesday morning came and when it was time for Declan's nap, I decided to take a nap as well. Bailey stayed in the living room so I was in my room alone and before I slept, I cried. I was really starting to worry now and wondering how I could find the strength to go see the doctor about this. I went through the rest of the day Wednesday - it was hard and I think deep in my heart I probably knew he was gone. I even considered not going to church Wednesday night - my heart was so heavy with the knowledge of what I was going to have to do on Thursday if I continued to not feel any movement from my baby. But I put on a happy face, as much as I could and made it through church.
Wednesday night is a little foggy for me now. I think I went to bed before Anthony did and I cried again. I remember pushing on my stomach in a futile attempt to get the baby to move. I begged the baby to move. I begged God to not let my baby be gone. I can honestly say that Wednesday night was one of the worst nights of my life - I didn't sleep much and when I did I woke often. I couldn't believe that this was happening to me.
Thursday morning finally rolled around and I was quietly crying before Anthony even got out of bed. After he got up to take his shower I just sobbed because I knew I was going to have to tell him what was going on, so we could make a visit to the doctor that day. Once he got done in the shower and came out of the bathroom he saw me crying and asked what was wrong. I couldn't even answer at first because I was sobbing so hard. I finally gathered myself enough to tell him that I hadn't felt the baby move for a while. He asked if I wanted to go to the doctor. I said I needed to go and asked him if he could call the office - there was no way in the world I was going to be able to make that call. So he called the office and they basically said to come as soon as we could. He also called Ashley (my sister) to see if we could bring the kids to her. I was so thankful that I had him - he had strength to do the hard things when I had none. So I got ready and got the kids ready while he ran to school to get his sub plans ready. When he got back we loaded up and headed to Ashley's to drop the kids off. I didn't even get out of the jeep because I knew I would lose it if I was face to face with her (she is pregnant, due date very close to mine). Then we made that dreaded trip to the doctor's office.
I was not crying when I went into the office, but I'm sure if someone looked closely enough, they could tell I had been crying. I just wanted to sit where no one could see me. It seems like they shouldn't make you wait in the waiting room if you are there for that reason -- with all the women with healthy, growing babies. But we didn't have to wait too long and the nurse called me back. I was seeing Dr. McMillan, a doctor I had never met before. I had switched to this practice when I got pregnant just so I could follow my favorite doctor, Dr. Thompson, the one who delivered Declan. He is amazing and I cannot say enough good things about him. But Dr. Thompson was in surgery this morning.
So I get to the room and the nurse starts to get me hooked up to the nonstress test, which was really just a heartrate monitor in this case. She moved it around for a while and thought that she had found it but was having trouble keeping it. Whatever the heartrate was that she found, I thought it was too low to be a baby's heartrate. She had another nurse come in to see if she could get it better. At one point they also handed me the little clicker that you are supposed to push when you feel the baby move. That kind of felt like a cruel joke. Also at some point one of the nurses tried to just get the heartrate with the doppler - she asked me if I "felt that" and said that she felt the baby kick the monitor. I didn't feel anything. So finally I think they concluded that the baby was too active to find his heartrate very well. So they left and said that Dr. McMillan would be in soon. At this point I was thinking maybe I was just paranoid and maybe the baby was fine. But I couldn't forget that I still had not felt him move. But I felt like I had hope at this point.
Dr. McMillan soon came in and also said something about the baby being too active to find his heartrate but that he would do an ultrasound so we could see what was going on. So we waited a while in that room while they got the ultrasound room ready. Then the nurse came and got us and brought us to the other room, and we sat and waited in there a while. When Dr. McMillan came in he got the ultrasound started and was quiet for a minute. Then he told us and showed us on the screen, though I don't remember his exact words, that the heart wasn't beating. I didn't cry right away. I felt like the wind was knocked out of me and I was in shock. The nurses had given me hope, though I should have known better - and I probably really did, deep down. I just needed to cling to that hope, even if it turned out to be false hope.
Dr. McMillan was very kind and gentle with us. He talked a little bit about what we would do from there - there were a few options for inducing me. I had already been down this path in my mind, and I had figured that they would have to do a c-section since I had the partial uterine rupture with Declan. I expressed that concern with him, though I could barely find the words to get a sentence out. But he assured me that this would be the best option. He said that we could either go straight over to the hospital and get it started, or we could go home for a few hours and then go to the hospital. I just had no idea what to do - my head was spinning. I think he sensed that I just needed direct instructions instead of choices, so he said that we should go home for a few hours and get our things together and he would call the hospital and tell them to expect us. He apologized and then he left.
I had been crying a little, but of course I bawled when he left. Anthony and I just stood there in the middle of the room and held each other and cried for a few minutes. Then I gathered myself enough to leave though I was just trying to hold it together as we walked through the halls and back out through the waiting room. I'm sure the people waiting could see I was upset. We drove home and basically went straight to the bed and cried some more. I don't remember how long I laid there for but I knew I had to get myself up and get ready - I really wanted to get the induction started so we could get it over with, get through the nightmare, but it was so hard to find the strength to make myself get out of bed. There were many times I was just hoping I would wake up and find it was all a bad dream. Somehow I did it - got out of bed and packed the things I would need at the hospital. I had a bowl of cereal - I didn't really feel like eating but I was afraid they wouldn't let me eat at the hospital and I didn't want to be starving. Sometime while I was getting ready, Anthony called Ashley to tell her what was going on. I'm sure she must have known that it was not good, since it had been several hours since we dropped the kids off with her. But again, Anthony took the load from me and made that call, knowing that I didn't have the strength to do it.
We somehow forced ourselves out the door to head to the hospital. We get in the jeep and Anthony turned the key - and it wouldn't start. It was because of an ongoing problem that we've had with it, so it wasn't a total surprise, but I remember thinking, "Really God? I have a dead baby in my belly. Is that not enough?". Kind of funny to me now. So Anthony finally managed to get it started and we headed to the hospital with heavy hearts. We didn't really know what to expect but the next couple days would hold many tears, plenty of sorrow, lots of laughter, and so much peace from God.
Part 2
Part 3
I want to back up before his actual birth story began, to where the story begins for me. On Tuesday, February 26th, I think after I had put the kids to bed is when I first noticed that I hadn't felt the baby (he didn't have a name at this time) move lately. I wasn't too worried at this point because I had felt that way before; you can imagine that with two young kids I keep fairly busy and it's always easier to feel a baby move when you are sitting and relaxing quietly. So whenever I was worried about it, I would sit, stretched out on our loveseat and almost always feel his reassuring kicks and twists and turns. This night, however, I did not.
I went to bed that night hoping I would feel him move while I was laying, trying to fall asleep. I was worried but just thought that maybe he had changed positions so it was just harder to feel him move now. Night passed and I slept okay.
Wednesday morning came and when it was time for Declan's nap, I decided to take a nap as well. Bailey stayed in the living room so I was in my room alone and before I slept, I cried. I was really starting to worry now and wondering how I could find the strength to go see the doctor about this. I went through the rest of the day Wednesday - it was hard and I think deep in my heart I probably knew he was gone. I even considered not going to church Wednesday night - my heart was so heavy with the knowledge of what I was going to have to do on Thursday if I continued to not feel any movement from my baby. But I put on a happy face, as much as I could and made it through church.
Wednesday night is a little foggy for me now. I think I went to bed before Anthony did and I cried again. I remember pushing on my stomach in a futile attempt to get the baby to move. I begged the baby to move. I begged God to not let my baby be gone. I can honestly say that Wednesday night was one of the worst nights of my life - I didn't sleep much and when I did I woke often. I couldn't believe that this was happening to me.
Thursday morning finally rolled around and I was quietly crying before Anthony even got out of bed. After he got up to take his shower I just sobbed because I knew I was going to have to tell him what was going on, so we could make a visit to the doctor that day. Once he got done in the shower and came out of the bathroom he saw me crying and asked what was wrong. I couldn't even answer at first because I was sobbing so hard. I finally gathered myself enough to tell him that I hadn't felt the baby move for a while. He asked if I wanted to go to the doctor. I said I needed to go and asked him if he could call the office - there was no way in the world I was going to be able to make that call. So he called the office and they basically said to come as soon as we could. He also called Ashley (my sister) to see if we could bring the kids to her. I was so thankful that I had him - he had strength to do the hard things when I had none. So I got ready and got the kids ready while he ran to school to get his sub plans ready. When he got back we loaded up and headed to Ashley's to drop the kids off. I didn't even get out of the jeep because I knew I would lose it if I was face to face with her (she is pregnant, due date very close to mine). Then we made that dreaded trip to the doctor's office.
I was not crying when I went into the office, but I'm sure if someone looked closely enough, they could tell I had been crying. I just wanted to sit where no one could see me. It seems like they shouldn't make you wait in the waiting room if you are there for that reason -- with all the women with healthy, growing babies. But we didn't have to wait too long and the nurse called me back. I was seeing Dr. McMillan, a doctor I had never met before. I had switched to this practice when I got pregnant just so I could follow my favorite doctor, Dr. Thompson, the one who delivered Declan. He is amazing and I cannot say enough good things about him. But Dr. Thompson was in surgery this morning.
So I get to the room and the nurse starts to get me hooked up to the nonstress test, which was really just a heartrate monitor in this case. She moved it around for a while and thought that she had found it but was having trouble keeping it. Whatever the heartrate was that she found, I thought it was too low to be a baby's heartrate. She had another nurse come in to see if she could get it better. At one point they also handed me the little clicker that you are supposed to push when you feel the baby move. That kind of felt like a cruel joke. Also at some point one of the nurses tried to just get the heartrate with the doppler - she asked me if I "felt that" and said that she felt the baby kick the monitor. I didn't feel anything. So finally I think they concluded that the baby was too active to find his heartrate very well. So they left and said that Dr. McMillan would be in soon. At this point I was thinking maybe I was just paranoid and maybe the baby was fine. But I couldn't forget that I still had not felt him move. But I felt like I had hope at this point.
Dr. McMillan soon came in and also said something about the baby being too active to find his heartrate but that he would do an ultrasound so we could see what was going on. So we waited a while in that room while they got the ultrasound room ready. Then the nurse came and got us and brought us to the other room, and we sat and waited in there a while. When Dr. McMillan came in he got the ultrasound started and was quiet for a minute. Then he told us and showed us on the screen, though I don't remember his exact words, that the heart wasn't beating. I didn't cry right away. I felt like the wind was knocked out of me and I was in shock. The nurses had given me hope, though I should have known better - and I probably really did, deep down. I just needed to cling to that hope, even if it turned out to be false hope.
Dr. McMillan was very kind and gentle with us. He talked a little bit about what we would do from there - there were a few options for inducing me. I had already been down this path in my mind, and I had figured that they would have to do a c-section since I had the partial uterine rupture with Declan. I expressed that concern with him, though I could barely find the words to get a sentence out. But he assured me that this would be the best option. He said that we could either go straight over to the hospital and get it started, or we could go home for a few hours and then go to the hospital. I just had no idea what to do - my head was spinning. I think he sensed that I just needed direct instructions instead of choices, so he said that we should go home for a few hours and get our things together and he would call the hospital and tell them to expect us. He apologized and then he left.
I had been crying a little, but of course I bawled when he left. Anthony and I just stood there in the middle of the room and held each other and cried for a few minutes. Then I gathered myself enough to leave though I was just trying to hold it together as we walked through the halls and back out through the waiting room. I'm sure the people waiting could see I was upset. We drove home and basically went straight to the bed and cried some more. I don't remember how long I laid there for but I knew I had to get myself up and get ready - I really wanted to get the induction started so we could get it over with, get through the nightmare, but it was so hard to find the strength to make myself get out of bed. There were many times I was just hoping I would wake up and find it was all a bad dream. Somehow I did it - got out of bed and packed the things I would need at the hospital. I had a bowl of cereal - I didn't really feel like eating but I was afraid they wouldn't let me eat at the hospital and I didn't want to be starving. Sometime while I was getting ready, Anthony called Ashley to tell her what was going on. I'm sure she must have known that it was not good, since it had been several hours since we dropped the kids off with her. But again, Anthony took the load from me and made that call, knowing that I didn't have the strength to do it.
We somehow forced ourselves out the door to head to the hospital. We get in the jeep and Anthony turned the key - and it wouldn't start. It was because of an ongoing problem that we've had with it, so it wasn't a total surprise, but I remember thinking, "Really God? I have a dead baby in my belly. Is that not enough?". Kind of funny to me now. So Anthony finally managed to get it started and we headed to the hospital with heavy hearts. We didn't really know what to expect but the next couple days would hold many tears, plenty of sorrow, lots of laughter, and so much peace from God.
Part 2
Part 3
Monday, February 25, 2013
Meal Plan Monday
Monday
Marlboro Man Sandwich (didn't have last week)
Tuesday
Slow Cooker Bacon Cheese Potatoes (this is supposed to be a side dish but it has bacon so it can count for a real meal, right?? -- Really, I'm just dying to try this and don't know what to have with it, so I'm just going for it)
Wednesday
Swedish Meatballs
Thursday
Terriyaki Pork Chops
Friday
Tacos
Saturday
Homemade Pizza
Marlboro Man Sandwich (didn't have last week)
Tuesday
Slow Cooker Bacon Cheese Potatoes (this is supposed to be a side dish but it has bacon so it can count for a real meal, right?? -- Really, I'm just dying to try this and don't know what to have with it, so I'm just going for it)
Wednesday
Swedish Meatballs
Thursday
Terriyaki Pork Chops
Friday
Tacos
Saturday
Homemade Pizza
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