I heard him screaming.  It was truly a tantrum to rival all tantrums.  My first thought was, "Oh my goodness!  Why doesn't his mother spank him??"

Then, I saw her.  In her right arm was a baby about the size of Burke, dressed in pink.  Her left arm was attempting to simulatneously reprimand the tantruming four-year-old while removing him from the store, literally kicking and screaming.  Her face was beet red, and she was obviously overwhelmed.  I looked past her, and I saw a mother's worst nightmare: a cart full of forfeited groceries.

My second thought was, "I need to help her."  It was followed closely by, "What will she think??  What will other people think??"

But I didn't stop.  I walked right up to her, and I said, "Is there anything at all I can do to help you?  Can I hold your daughter?  Can I stand with your son while you finish purchasing your groceries?  Can I go buy your groceries and bring them out to your car for you?"

Relief washed over her face, and she handed the baby to me.  I stood right next to her while she got her son settled down, and she completed her mission.  When she was finished, she thanked me.

-------------------------

"Jones, party of 1."

He got off the stool, shoulders slightly slumped, and headed to the hostess stand.  My heart began to scream.  What if that was my Daddy?  What if that was my husband??  I would want SOMEONE, ANYONE to care for them and invite them to dinner.

"Mom, do you mind if I invite him to eat with us?"

"Not at all."

"Okay, I'm going."

As I snaked through the aisles of the restaurant seating, my head was screaming, "You are nuts!  He is going to think you are crazy!!"

But my feet marched forward while my eyes searched for him.

When I found him, I waited for his server to finish announcing the daily specials.  I walked up to his table and leaned close to him.

"Sir, I don't want to seem too odd or forward, but my family and I would like to invite you to eat dinner with us.  There are six of us, so we have a 30-35 minute wait, but if that doesn't bother you, we'd love to give you some company tonight."

The tears welled up in his eyes as one made it's lonely way down his cheek.

"That is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.  Thank you so much.  I think I will pass on the offer, but I really appreciate it."

"It's not a problem at all.  If you change your mind, we'll keep a seat open for you.  God Bless."

I patted his hand and walked back out to the lobby.

As we were finishing our dinner, Mike got my attention and pointed him out.  Mr. Jones was walking toward our table.

"I just wanted to thank you again."

We visited for a very short bit, and he was on his way.

--------------------------

Both of these true situations have happened within the past week.  Each time, I felt God giving my heart a direction while my head screamed at the perceived lunacy of the suggestions.  Each time, every prideful and insecure bone in my body wanted to stay in my seat, ignoring the way my heart was hurting for these perfect strangers.  Each time, I found my feet moving and my mouth speaking before my head had a chance to stop me.

Each time, I believe God used me (an overweight, out of shape wife and mother who talks too much, forgives too little, and lacks self-control) to minister to someone else's need.

I'm desperate to be used again.  I want to SHOW people the love of God.  I want to BE His hands, His feet, His mouth.  I want people to KNOW that He loves them.

In order for God to be known by more people...

In order for more people to know and feel the love of an all-powerful God...

I'll become a fool in the eyes of the world.  (2 Samuel 6:20-22)

And when God calls my heart to go, I will not allow my head to force me to stop.

This I vow.

Are you going?  Or are you stopping?

I implore you:  Don't Stop!

and the news is GOOD!  :)  Praise God!

Burke's EKG results came back this morning, and it was perfectly normal.  YAY!  :)

So, it's official, Burke is experiencing breath-holding spells.  He hasn't had any yet today, so I'm HIGHLY encouraged by that!

I honestly don't have much else to say.  I'm just SO thankful to report this!  :)

He's cute, isn't he?  :)

Angelic, even.

And quite the character...

He's truly wonderful, until he turns blue in the face.  Then, it's a whole different story.

We had our appointment with Dr. Miller today, and she did Burke's regular 9-month Well-Check.  He's 27 inches long (10th %), 17.5 lbs. (5th %), and meeting most of his milestones.  Because of the fainting deal, they measured his oxygen saturation levels, and he was satting at 92%.  Then, she took it again, and it was 97%.

After she checked him over thoroughly and asked me about the fainting, she induced a breath-holding spell.  It was fun.  She gave him a tongue depressor, which he loved, then took it away.  Then, we strapped him in his carseat, which he hated.  THEN, the nurse gave him his 9-month immunizations.  That's three shots: two in the left thigh, and one in the right.  (I'm totally serious.  He was PISSED!)

With all of that information and seeing a spell for herself, Dr. Miller seemed to feel pretty confident that Burke is one of 5% of children who experiences breath-holding spells.  She gave us a lot of information about them, too.

Due to the fact that Burke's having the spells so frequently and the fact that he had some heart issues at birth, Dr. Miller felt more comfortable getting an EKG today to be sure it's nothing more serious.  She sent us straight from her office to the Urgent Care center.

When I walked into reception, I told the receptionist that we were there for an electrocardiogram.  She looked at me panicked and said, "We don't do those here."  I was confused, and I said, "I'm almost certain that Dr. Miller said to come to Greenbush Urgent Care to get an emergency EKG."

"Oh!  EKG's!  We do those here!!"

(For those who don't know, an electrocardiogram and an EKG are the same things!)

Needless to say, I was feeling very confident about the care we would be receiving.  :)

The test went well.  The results will be sent to Riley Cardiology to be read, and they should call Dr. Miller sometime tonight or tomorrow.  We'll know more then.

Everything looked fine, as far as I could tell.  I didn't see any of the weird rhythms Burke had while he was in the NICU.

So, that's about it.  Dr. Miller said not to treat Burke any different right now.  If he cries when we set him down, we're supposed to let him go ahead and cry.  That'll be hard for Mike, but Dr. Miller said that, if it's just breath-holding spells, then, as of now, it's completely involuntary.  However, Burke could learn how to manipulate the reflex in order to try to get his way.  So...right now we just don't treat him any different.

That's what we've got for now!  I hope you all are having a nice day!

Burke has passed out three times today.  He did it first thing this morning while I was taking Ruby to the potty.  He was hungry and wanted to eat, and I made him wait five minutes.  Within the first minute of crying, he was out.  Then, he was fine for most of the rest of the day.  (Totally fine!  He didn't even barely fuss the entire day.)  At 4:45, I put him down to do dishes, and walked into the kitchen.  He started crying, and, by the time I got back into the living room, he had the frozen blue face.  Then, he passed out right after I got back in the room.  Once he woke back up, I moved him into his high-chair and brought him into the kitchen with me.  Around 5:20, Ruby got in his face and upset him.  By the time I could ask her to get out of his face, he was already blue, and he was on his way out.  He woke up a few seconds later.

So, he did this once at three months old.  Now, within the past week, he has done it five times.  Four of those times have been within the last 24 hours, and three of the spells have been within the last twelve hours.

There is a natural thing that affects about 5% of children where they are lacking a reflex that makes them inhale while crying.  It causes them to go longer than average without inhaling, thus the fainting.  In young children, it's truly involuntary.  They cannot control the relfex.  Older children often learn how to manipulate the reflex to get what they want.  It usually manifests between 6 months and 2 years of age, and children outgrow it by the age of 5.  As long as children get blue and start breathing again, it's generally harmless.  If they get white (instead of blue) or if they don't start breathing again, then there's trouble.  However, the spells don't usually happen more than once a week.

Because of the sudden frequency of these spells, Dr. Miller wants to see Burke tomorrow to make sure nothing more serious is going on in his little body.  Any prayers are appreciated.  I'm pretty sure it's nothing serious, but I also hope it's something temporary!  :)  Thanks everyone.

I'm not talking about Ed McMahon, Michael Jackson, or Billy Mays.  I'm talking about Burke.

Have you ever heard of children who get so agitated that they pass out?  Well, Burke is one of those children.  It happened for the first time when he was about three months old.  We were visiting my parents, and we were out running errands.  It was time for a feeding, but there was no where to stop and nurse.  We strapped Burke in the car and headed home.  He cried so long and so hard that he stopped breathing, and, within about twenty seconds of not breathing, he passed out.  He quickly restarted breathing, but he stayed asleep until we got home.

For the past six months, however, we haven't seen another episode.  He's had a couple of times where he gets close to passing out, but I've always been able to get him to breathe again before he passes out.

That is, until now.  In the past four days, Burke has passed out twice.  On Wednesday, he did *not* want to get into his carseat to go to The Backyard at church.  That's fairly unusual, since he is generally a happy car passenger.  This night was a different story though.  He got so angry that he started screaming like a crazy baby.  Then, he did the no breathing thing.  I got him distracted and got him to take a breath, but then he remembered he was mad again.  He started screaming and stopped breathing again.  That time, his face started to turn purple, and I warned Anna that he was going to pass out.  Sure enough, his eyes slowly closed and he went to sleep.  He started breathing again and regained consciousness just a few seconds later.  He was totally calm after he "came back."

This evening, it happened again.  Burke *hates* to get his nose wiped or cleaned out.  It doesn't matter how we do it (with an aspirator or with a kleenex), the boy goes nuts.  This evening, he really went nuts.  He got so irritated that I could tell he was getting into "that mode".  I stopped cleaning his nose and tried to coax him out of the fit, but it didn't work.  He screamed louder and then stopped breathing.  About thirty seconds later, he was out.  His face turned blue, his eyes slowly closed, and, momentarily, he looked like a dead baby.

He regained consciousness just a couple of seconds later, and then he was completely calm again.

I have heard that this behavior actually runs in family, lending to the belief that it could be genetic and, therefore, unalterable.  One of Mike's cousins used to do this when he was a little boy, and his daughter now does the same thing, as well.  I've never heard of a baby as young as Burke doing it, though.

I generally handle really stressful times with a TON of peace and composure.  When my kids are really sick or their health is in great danger, it doesn't shake my psyche.  When Mike and I are under a lot of pressure, it doesn't cause me any fear or worry.

I'm not sure why I'm wired this way, but I am.

With that said, the sight of my son with a blue face frozen in a silent scream is one of the most terrifying scenes I've ever witnessed.  I hate when it happens.  Even though I seem totally sure and confident on the outside, my insides are screaming, "BREATHE!  Burke, BREATHE!  Please, sweet son, TAKE A BREATH!  DO NOT LEAVE ME!  DO NOT LEAVE ME!"

Just one short year ago, I was facing a more dire threat to his life, and I never felt a moment of panic.  These "spells" however, unnerve me greatly.  I don't think a child has ever died from them, but they still seem so traumatic.

Anyway, I'm rambling now, but I would just appreciate any prayers of healing you could send Burke's way.  I'd like him to always breathe.  It'd be a lot easier on my heartstrings!!!  :)

I haven't been very good about pulling out the camera in the few months of Burke's short life.  When I had Anja and Ruby, I was CONSTANTLY taking pictures of the two of them.  It had a lot to do with the fact that we were at Anja's house, and there was no constant laundry to be done, no constant dishes to be put away, etc...  Here at home, once we play for a bit, I head off to do chores instead of setting them up for a few shots.

This summer, I'm going to try to change that.  I'm hoping to take at least one picture each day of my kidlets!  I'll probably start posting them to the blog to help keep me a little accountable.

Anyway, that's one of my challenges for myself this summer.

How are you challenging yourself this summer?

Mia Michaels is such an odd choreographer.  She is not my favorite.  In fact, I think I would actually put her very near the bottom on my list of preferences.  Don't get me wrong...I understand that she's great at what she does.  I understand that she's talented.  I'm just saying I don't like her style.

With that said, Randi and Evan are my favorites by far!  :)  I hope they go far in the competition.

And for those of you who are completely lost, I'm talking about a choreographer and a couple of dancers on So You Think You Can Dance.

I really like the show.  It's so neat to see people do things that I could never, ever in my wildest dreams accomplish.  It's inspiring and exciting!  :)

Anyway, I planned to write more than this, but I got distracted.  Surprise, surprise...

(By the way, if you have ANY input on a topic for a book, please show me some love.  I've got about eighteen hundred different things running through my head, but I can't get a solid start on any of them.  And feel free to just say, "I don't think you should write a book."  I would totally accept that input, too!!)  :)

Have a great night, everyone!

Tonight, I took my very tired children to the grocery store.  Our cupboards are bare.  We need a bit of sustenance.  We had been out of the house all day, playing in the sun, so I knew Ruby would need a bit of bribery to make it through the mission.  Armed with a lollipop and my checkbook, we headed off to ALDI.  After I got the kids loaded into the cart, I remembered that ALDI doesn't do checks.  So, I got them back out of the cart and back into the car.

I needed to return something to Target, so I decided I would just get my groceries at Target.  (Let me say, for the record, I try to avoid Target.  NOT a Target fan, in general.)  So, I drive to Target, and Ruby falls asleep on the way.  I managed to to gently wake her up and lull her into a good mood with a lollipop.  Burke is all good with his butterfly rattle.

We shop for an hour, and I'm SUPER proud of myself, because I've gotten everything we need for the week for less than half of our budget.  PLUS...I've finally remembered to bring my reusable grocery bags into the store, which is a *major* part of the process, if you actually want to avoid using plastic bags.  Best of all, Ruby and Burke have both been ANGELS the entire time.

As we pulled into the checkout lane, I let Ruby pick out a cheap toy (an echo-phone) as a reward for her excellent behavior.

The lady at the register rings up our purchases, and she loads all of our groceries into our reusable bags.  By this time, Ruby has been playing with her echo-phone for a few minutes, and she's in love.

I write out the check and hand it over.

And they won't take my check...because I didn't have a picture ID with me.  They unload all of our groceries

(WHOA!  Wait a second...did any of you watch America's Got Talent tonight?  Did you SEE that tiny little woman pick up her bear of a husband??  That was incredible.  Odd, but incredible.)

Okay, um, so, they unload all of our groceries, and then the manager has to ask Ruby to give back the $.99 echo-phone.

Yep.  My little angel turned into a screaming mess.  When she asked me why they took her toy away, I told her that I didn't have any real money to pay for our things, and (this is where it gets sad and pathetic) she tried to offer the cashier her "money" from her armpits.  :(

By the time we got everything unloaded, both kids were screaming, and I was so incredibly irritated.

We got home, and I got them fed with the help of my brother (who got us some dinner.)  Then, we read a couple of books, and I got them down for the night.  It took quite a bit of work to get Ruby down, and, by 9:00 p.m., I was wiped out.

There are nights when I feel like I haven't done much good in the world.  I lost my cool with the Target manager.  (Not terribly bad, but I certainly didn't smile and wish her a good evening.)  I lost my cool with Ruby, when she spilt her milk on the brand new carpet.  I just felt like my day was worthless.

THEN, I uploaded a bunch of pictures from the past couple of months.

And that's when I remembered.

I remembered that there are inevitably going to be evenings that don't go very well.  However, on the whole, I am one of the luckiest women in the world.  I love the people in these pictures more than I could ever express, and I am so thankful that I get to buy groceries for them.  I am so grateful that I get to cover the household duties, so they can be happy, healthy, and growing.  I love them, and I am so overwhelmed that they love me, too.

Like I said, I am one lucky wife and mother!

At right about this time, I was driving down Columbia Street towards Purdue University.  My heart was beating hard against my chest, and my 15-month-old baby girl was strapped into her carseat behind me.  One prayer was playing in my head, as if the repeat button had been pushed, "God, please don't take my baby today.  Just not today.  Please give me one more day with him or her.  Help me find Mike quickly and show me what to do next.  Just please, please don't take my baby today.  I just want a few more hours with him or her."

I very, very specifically remember that part.  I remember exactly what block I was driving past when I whispered those very words, and the floodgates opened.

"Just a few more hours, God, that's all I'm asking for.  You can give me that, right?  It's not too much to ask?  Please, just a few more hours."

As I called my list of loved ones, my heart grew more and more calm, even though I was repeatedly getting voice-mailboxes.  As I walked all over the West Lafayette Campus of Purdue University, my tears subsided.  When I found my husband's office empty, my mind serenely thought through the most logical places where I could look next.

As I talked with my pastor on the phone, while searching through yet another empty academic building, I just asked him to pray.  And I only asked him to pray that I would find Mike quickly.  Nothing else, just pray that I would find my husband soon.

Within an hour, I was pushing the stroller through a state-of-the-art research facility, following signs for a prestigious conference.  As I reached the door for the conference room, my heart rejoiced to see that my husband was sitting directly down the row from the door.  I stared into the side of his head, willing him to turn my way.  Eventually, I asked one of his colleagues to get his attention.

As he turned to see me, my face must have said a thousand words.  He immediately got up from his seat and informed his colleagues that he would be gone for the rest of the day.

When we climbed into the van, he got into the driver's seat.  As he began to drive, he asked, "What's wrong?"

And that's when it all became very real.

"My amniotic sac has broken again.  I'm leaking a lot, just like I did with Ruby."

"But you're only 17 weeks."

"I know."

"What does this mean?"

"The baby has no chance to live.  I will probably go into labor within the next 48 hours...almost definitely within the next two weeks.  There's no way we can get to the point of viability.  The doctor wants me back at the hospital as soon as possible to admit me.  I don't know what's going to happen next."

Every drop of blood drained out of Mike's face, and he pulled over for me to drive.  As he leaned the seat back and closed his eyes, we both began to cry.

"No matter what happens, I can't do this again," I said.

"I know.  Me neither," he said.

This was to be our last biological child.

With our parents on the way to town, we set up temporary babysitting arrangements for Ruby, and I asked you all to pray for us.

Twenty-four hours later, I was at home on strict bedrest...making burial/cremation plans and preparing myself for the imminent birth and subsequent death of my baby.  Trusting that God had the very best in mind for me, I chose to face the situation with the confidence that God would support me and be glorified through every step.  I just happened to think He would be supporting me through the loss of a child.

Instead, He led me through fifteen weeks of the strictest bedrest possible.  He sustained me through seventeen ultrasounds, during which we anxiously searched for big black voids of space that indicated miraculous pockets of amniotic fluid.  He gifted me with the most amazing network of loved ones who:

*provided over 800 hours of loving childcare, including some evenings and weekends

*prepared and delivered over 75 meals, not including my lunches or sweet teas  :)

*cleaned and organized our home twice a month

*visited daily, hoping to keep my spirits up

*organized and pulled-off five game nights

*and prayed continually for a miracle.

One year ago, today, God began a work in our family, and He has been faithful to complete that work, drawing us closer to Him.  Lifting us up to a higher level of faith.  Giving us the opportunity to praise Him for who He is, not just what He can do or has done.

Today, because God (The One and Only) loves me and has heard my cries, I can sit here and stare into the beautiful sleeping face of my eight-month-old son, Burke Michael Goodwin.  The boy who was not supposed to live...but did.

Thank You, God!  I stand amazed.

...two little boys were born into this world.  Their mommy had carried them together in her stomach for nine full months.  They put her through torture and discomfort unknown to mothers who have only carried one baby to full-term.  They were twins, and they were 7.5 lbs a piece.  :)  Their names were Marc and Mike, and God had great plans for them.

Today, Marc and Mike are celebrating the day of their birth.  While Marc spent the day in the special care nursery with his son, Mike ate lunch with his special care graduates.  The twins' lives continue to twist and twine together, creating still more bonds that will never be broken.

They are different in many ways, but, in the most important ways, they are the same:

They love God.  They are incredible sons, brothers, husbands, fathers, and friends.  They put others ahead of themselves...always.  They work hard and love harder.  They are trustworthy, faith-filled, and true.

I am so absurdly thankful that I get to call one of these twins my husband.  And, today, I am indescribably proud of my brother-in-law and the way he has handled himself during this most stressful time of his life.

Happy Birthday, Boys!  Your family loves you, and we are blessed beyond description to have you in our lives.