A Family Update & A New Adventure

Family & Friends, this is not an easy post to share. By nature I tend to be an "oversharer", (hello, enneagram 2 🖐), but in this case, I have been in such a vulnerable place and everything in me wants to hold the details of our family's last three months close to my heart. I ultimately decided to share, because in an ugly place of feeling sorry for myself, I heard God give me the answer to something I've been crying out for desperately the past few months. "Is there really a greater purpose to my pain? And if so, please God, show me."

Most of you know that pregnancy loss is a part of our family. I've shared openly about our losses both after Mackenzie and Levi. These were difficult seasons for us but we can look back now and see how God's hand was in every part of our story and the growing of our family. Neither Levi or Evie would be here today had we not lost those babies.

We thought we were done at 3 healthy babies but earlier this year we got the surprise of a lifetime when we found out we were unexpectedly pregnant and due this fall. After the initial shock we were all absolutely overjoyed. All three kids were so excited to make their little trio a foursome. Then, we were devastated to go in for our first ultrasound, to see a baby with a beating heart and to be told that our baby's heart was slowing down and likely wouldn't make it. To say we were crushed would be an understatement. Never before have God's plans felt so confusing. So messed up. So cruel and lacking compassion. Did we hear wrong? Did we do something wrong? Why show us a baby with a beating heart only for us to be told to go home and wait for our baby to die? These are questions I have wrestled with every day for the past 3 months.

After our first loss earlier this year, we decided that the blessing in it all was that God must be confirming that, yes, he wants for us to have four babies. We were surprised (albeit, very anxious) to find out we were pregnant again. And again, we went in for our first ultrasound to be told that this time, a gestational sack had grown but that our baby had never grown at all. Again, we were devastated. The Christmas baby we had spent so many hours dreaming about and planning for wouldn't be joining our family.

This has been a season of real wrestling with my faith. Is God who He says He is? Is He truly a God of compassion and love? Why does He create life if His plan is for me to bleed death down the drain of our shower? Are His thoughts and plans really, truly good when all along, He knows that my baby's life will be summed up in a matter of a few short weeks? Did He truly cry with me on the day that I logged onto my Amazon prime to click "add to cart", a tiny urn, to hold the baby that we would bury in our backyard? Why is He okay with me shivering in an ER as the remaining tissues of a baby that He created are sucked and scraped out of my body? Where is God to answer questions when our 7- year-old son asks, "Why does God let all our babies die?" Is an army of praying believers really enough to bring about a miracle? Because, we have had a literal army of friends and family members on their knees, storming Heaven's gates for us for 3 months, and all it feels like we've been left with is shattered dreams and hearts.

I am learning that the grieving and the sadness and the anger is good and even holy. I am learning that even if I don't understand what God is doing, I am exactly where He wants me. I am surrendered and my heart is broken more than it has ever been, and yet, I have never needed Him more than I do now. I am learning that if there wasn't this tension, the tension of not fully understanding God and His heart, I would stop seeking Him. If I understood everything and could put a definite answer to all of my pain and suffering, I would no longer have a need for God. And that, is why there is beauty in the tension. Because as long as there are questions, I keep finding myself at His feet.

Earlier this month, I was in another repeated cycle of feeling sorry for myself when I felt like He finally spoke. He didn't answer my questions of WHY we keep losing our babies or of why we now have more dead babies than living babies. But He did remind me that I'm not the only one hurting.

I started to think about how hard due dates are. The due dates of the babies I have lost have been some of the hardest days of my life. Long after our losses, these dates loom on a calendar and the closer they come, the more I dread them. The day that should have been a day of joy and anticipation of holding my baby against my chest and breathing in the smell of life, is replaced by a day that sits heavy on my heart. Life spins madly on but no one remembers due dates. Spouses don't remember and friends don't think of them. Understandably so, because months have passed. On the day of our baby's due dates, we as loss Mommas aren't watching a clock, anxiously waiting for our water to break or for labor to start. We still have to work and care for other children and go on living life. We should be carrying a giant basketball of a belly instead of a broken heart. Instead we grieve silently and we remember and keep those memories close to our hearts. I know I'm not the only one who dreads the due dates of my babies in Heaven.

And so, came about the idea for Ezra & Evie, an Etsy shop I am designing around honoring Mommas of pregnancy, baby loss and infertility. This shop is still in the early planning stages but my vision is to provide various sized gift boxes of locally packaged and thoughtfully planned gifts that can be sent to loved ones and friends who have either just experienced a loss or are anticipating an impeding due date.

I can't tell you how many times I have had women reach out to me and ask, "How can I best support my friend who just lost her baby?" And every single time I emphatically tell them, "Find out her due date and remember it. Honor her baby on that day even if it is 7 months from now. Make sure you get it on the calendar." And almost every single time I give this answer, I am met with surprise.

I am certain that God's hand is written all over this new adventure because earlier this week while sitting on our back patio and doing the early research and planning, our umbrella fell on top of me and smashed our Macbook Computer. It was as if Satan caught wind of hope rising up within me for the first time in months and thought, "I'll end this right here." Well, we've got a massive deductible to pay and a computer that is out of commission for a while but I'm sharing today that Satan ins't going to stop me from moving forward in this plan to bless hurting Mommas. As hard as the past 3 months have been on my heart, I will continue to believe that a powerful testimony is enough to triumph over the enemy and I believe that in this season, opening a shop is the way God is calling me to share my testimony and to help other Mommas feel more seen.

I have no idea what the future looks like for our family. These days I have more questions than I do answers. I wish I could end this post smoothly by tying it with a pretty bow but the truth is, life is often more messy and hard than it is pretty and put together and Pinterest worthy. And, this is just where we are right now. We are hurting and broken and we feel a little less complete as a family than we did coming into the New Year. I was hesitant to share any of the details of our family's year so far because often times Social Media can become a place where we watch others hurting from the sidelines and we feel pity for them. I don't want pity. If we never grow our family again and the best way we glorify God here on earth is through the Baker Trio, I will be grateful beyond measure. If my little shop ends up sending only one box to a Momma somewhere, whose heart is hurting and she needs to feel seen, then the broken computer and sleepless nights of planning were worth it.

To all of our friends and family members who lave literally been on your knees for us, have showed up with meals and sent flowers, ordered us groceries, left coffee on our doorstep, delivered brownies, toys and games for the kids, have said "screw it" to covid isolation requirements to help watch our kiddos, have offered to show up and pray in parking lots during ultrasounds and to argue with medical technicians over results and policies, my gosh there are truly no ways to properly say, "thank you". Our family has never felt so loved by our community and the body of Christ. We love you guys more than you could ever know.

Thank you for being our tribe.

Love, Brittany

Creating a Safe Home in a World That is Unsafe

In a recent counseling session I told my counselor that I have a vision of my home being a safe haven for our family. A home where, at the end of a long day, my husband can enjoy a warm meal, relax in a clean home and leave the stress of his work day at the door. A home where my kids can enter after a long day at school, they can walk through our front door and know they will be fully accepted and loved and can feel peace ... all while eating warm chocolate chip cookies straight from the oven.

Sounds amazing....AND incredibly unrealistic. Very "Pottery Barn Pinter-esque". I just made up a new 2020 phrase and I think it fits.

My counselor asked me “Brittany, what threatens this dream of your home being a “safe haven”? I began to rattle off things like, “When the kids fight.” “When someone gets sick.” “When my husband feels extra stress from clients and he can’t leave that stress at work.” "When we have unexpected vet bills." “When I burn the cookies”.

You see, the problem with this vision is that it doesn’t allow grace for the fact that our home is FULL of sinners. Our home is by it's very nature, broken. If I hold too tightly to this vision, I’m expecting perfection from imperfect people and I actually create an environment that feels threatening and creates an expectation of perfection.

I create the expectation on myself that I have to MAKE things perfect and I also foster attitudes of entitlement within my children when they come to expect perfection and they don't receive it.

This vision doesn’t allow for my kids and husband or even myself to experience pain, anger, frustration, heartache, brokenness or sin.

My counselor pointed out that by allowing my children to fight, by giving my husband the space to feel stressed, by showing myself grace for a messy home or an adult temper tantrum or burned cookies, I’m actually creating the “safe haven” that I so greatly desire.

My family should know that in our home, we allow fighting. We allow anger and stress and anxiety. We embrace our messy brokenness without judgement. We choose forgiveness and we model grace to ourselves and each other even on the days where someone has the stomach flu, half the puzzle pieces are missing, dad has lost his temper and one kid is streaking through the house naked.

I share all of this with you because we are in an especially hard season as a family. This vision of my home as a “safe haven” feels threatened often minute to minute. And, with the added stress of school closures and the panic going on outside of the walls of our home, we’re going to be spending LOTS of quality time together over the next several months. I get to decide what I want the next several months to look like and how I want our time as a family in this season of extra closeness to be remembered.

This morning a friend reminded me that, “The world can feel chaotic but our homes don’t have to.” This seems counter-intuitive when I’m sharing that I want my kids to feel free to fight and that I want the grace for myself to have a bad day. Just by admitting this, it feels like I'm inviting chaos into our home.

I think the point is that WE SET THE TONE in our homes for what FEELS like chaos. If we as parents react to every high pitched scream, every whine, every tantrum, every little thing that throws off our day, we DO create a sense of chaos inside the walls of our home. When we CREATE the sense of chaos, then the dream for our “safe haven” IS threatened because our home is no safer than standing in the middle of mass hysteria at our local grocery store.

However, if we choose to breathe deep through the bickering, to redirect when we’re at one another’s throats, to throw impromptu dance parties in the kitchen in our underwear, to play endless amounts of board games and to laugh when one kid is a sore loser, rather than becoming angry because the vision for a "picture perfect" afternoon has gone ary...It is only then that the energy in our homes feel SAFE for the ones that we love.

And so, I am working on training my brain to think quite a bit differently about what a "safe haven" within the walls of our home can and should look like.

It doesn't need to be home with stain free couches and perfectly plumped throw pillows and fresh baked cookies on the counter. It doesn't need to be a home free from fighting or potty training accidents or nap boycotts. We don't need to be a Stepford family that feels the need to walk on eggshells around one another to all be happy.

A "safe haven" can AND should be a home where we each feel accepted and loved in spite of sin. Safe to feel allll the emotions. Safe to ugly cry. Safe to be messy. Safe to be humble and willing to ask for forgiveness on the really ugly days when we've hurt one another and need a fresh start. I am coming to believe that with this perspective in mind, our homes in all of their messy, chaotic glory, can STILL feel like a safe haven from an outside world that is broken and scary.

Love, Brittany

Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus

I have a confession to make: Last night, I collapsed in a puddle into my husband's arms, the second he walked in the door from work. Not because of our mountains of laundry that never seem to lessen or because of needy kids whose requests never let up throughout the day. Not because a messy home or because of one child's endless pursuit to take me out. (This youngest child shall remain nameless to respect her reputation as future leader of the world). Ha!

No, I collapsed into a blubbering mess because the overwhelming task of raising tiny humans in this world is downright SCARY. I can not sign onto facebook without being inundated with Coronavirus warnings and threats to stock up my pantry. In a moment of weakness I did an Amazon search and the price of hospital face masks is up to SEVENTY DOLLARS a pack. Yesterday I read a post on a friend's wall telling me to take my kids out of public schools because the government is after them and vaccines are of the devil. My next door neighbor believes that I'm destroying the ozone because I start my car in the mornings before I load my kids up. And, I thought very seriously about canceling our family adventure to go see the Beach Boys in concert this Summer because I couldn't think of a better place for a mass shooting to occur.

Look, I'm not denying that vaccines are harmful and I'm not saying we shouldn't be petitioning on the steps of the Capitol Building to advocate for our rights and the protection of our families. I'm not saying that my neighbor is crazy and that she's one step away from being sucked into some unknown layer of the Ozone. (Okay, I maybe AM saying that). I'm not saying that it wouldn't be wise to stock up on elderberry syrup and extra pantry supplies or that I shouldn't think twice before taking our family to a large public outing.

But what I am saying quite literally is this:

KEEP ME NEAR THE CROSS LORD JESUS. You guys, I am DONE. I am not usually an anxious person. I have been honest in sharing that I struggle chronically with bouts of depression. But, anxiety is generally not a huge "thing" for me. Lately though, I have been so burdened and overcome by the anxiety and the seemingly impossible MOUNTAIN of a task that is before me. HOW do I raise healthy, well rounded, kind and selfless humans in a world that is downright terrifying to me? How do I make informed and educated decisions about how to protect their bodies and their minds and hearts without allowing my own JOY to be stolen and trampled on by fear of the unknown and fear that I'm going to make or not make a decision that might alter the course of their little lives?

I was reminded in reading Genesis 3 today that after Adam and Eve sinned, God came looking for them and He asked, "Where are you?" He didn't physically want to know where they were. Because, He's God, and of course he knew exactly where they were physically hiding. No, he was asking "Where are your hearts?" "Why are you HIDING from me?" I was humbly reminded of how often I hide when I am ashamed, or fearful or feel utterly helpless.

I hop on social media to mindlessly scroll through Facebook and (surprise, surprise), I sign off more anxious than ever. I turn on the Bachelor to numb myself and get lost in the insane drama of catty women and a downright douche bag of a man. Hello, Peter. I hop on Amazon Prime and I search for hospital face masks or Easter outfits-- depending on which end of the stress pendulum I'm swinging towards in that moment. I tune out the voice of God or I silence my own thoughts by throwing on an audio book or a podcast. Anything to hide and avoid and numb what's really going on in my heart. Anything to avoid really seeking God in the middle of life's HARD and messy and broken places.

So this morning, I humbly came before Jesus, broken and with hands spread out in an offering of surrender. I offered Him my heart and I told Him everything I've been feeling and I asked for Him to renew His place on the throne and in JESUS' NAME to take back all fear and anxiety and power.

"Jesus, I am SCARED. I am afraid and I don't know how to put one step in front of the other. I don't know how to be a good wife and momma without fear taking over. I NEED you to lead me and guide me EVERY day, every hour and every minute. The thief may come to steal, kill and destroy, but I need YOU to surround our home with LOVE and JOY and PEACE. I need YOU to be my guide. Show me how to guard my heart so that I am not letting unnecessary fear take over. But, give me WISDOM in knowing when it is wise to take action to protect and advocate for my family. I need you Jesus."

If you're in my shoes and you're feeling overwhelmed and anxious today, my prayer is that you will be encouraged to know that you are not alone. I feel you. I am walking this same uncertain and scary road. I hope that today you can step into this place of humble surrender with me. I hope that you will borrow my prayer as your own and that you will insert your own fears and anxieties and questions. My prayer is that Jesus will draw near to both of us and that minute by minute, second by second, we will lean and turn our eyes to HIM to be our source of perspective and to renew our joy. We are not dependent on friends or family members to be this source of truth for us. We are not reliant on our government or politicians for their wisdom and direction. The inundation of facts and perspectives from podcasts or instastories don't have the final say.

All of these might have value but at the end of the day, if looking to them is creating more anxiety and less peace and less JOY, there's ONE we probably missed in the mix of it all and that is MORE turning our eyes upon Jesus.

Love, Brittany