Underfoot

The definition of underfoot, according to Webster's Dictionary is as follows.

Underfoot:
1. under the foot especially against the ground underfoot. (trampled the flowers underfoot)
2. in the way underfoot (children are often underfoot)

Micah is becoming increasingly more mobile as each day passes. In a way it is a great relief that he can move about as he pleases, but it also brings challenges and constant attention to his whereabouts. As you see in this picture, he loves to be near you as you work, or as according to Merriam-Webster, underfoot.

I find myself tiptoeing around Micah, trying my best to not stumble or step on him. Let me just let you in on a little secret about myself, I am not coordinated! On more than one occasion, Mr. Jason Blackley has been kneed, quite unintentionally, in various parts of his body; leaving him doubled over in pain and me apologizing, again! I can't hit a baseball, or its larger sibling, the softball, to save my life. And my ability to dance leaves something to be desired. So, leaping diving in and out of Micah's every move while he's crawling around on our kitchen floor is quite a challenge for me.

While I do find it challenging to maneuver around this child, who is very conveniently underfoot, I can't help but smile and soak it up, every minute of it.

This next week marks the second anniversary of my second miscarriage. On April 1, yes April Fool's Day, 2007 I decided to take a pregnancy test. This was NOT the first time I had taken a pregnancy test, but something felt different. Something was different. I was, in fact, pregnant... six weeks pregnant. We had our first ob appointment that Wednesday, rather quickly I thought, but looking back, God totally had His hand in it. At our appointment my doctor performed a quick ultrasound, as I am very irregular, so she wanted to get a more accurate due date. There it was, flickering up on the screen, our little baby. It seemed so surreal, yet so fun and exciting. The next weekend was Easter, and we were going to Kansas City to spend time with Jason's family...perfect. We made a surprise visit to my parent's house, ultrasound picture in hand...and we surprised them alright! The weekend was spent smiling so much my face hurt. We talked about how old the baby would be for this date and that date, we told everyone we knew. If we had not had such an early appointment, we probably wouldn't have told our family.

Two weeks later I began to spot. Apparently spotting is very common in pregnancy, but I was re-assured with a second ultrasound. There it was, a little bean, with a rapid heart rate. The next day I miscarried. It sucked, I cried, Jason cried, we cried until we couldn't cry anymore. We were devastated. Our hopes, dreams, and baby had left us, just like that.

The cause of the miscarriage was unexplained, and we were cleared to 'try again' after one month. Fast forward to June 25, 2007, positive pregnancy test again. We were excited, but reserved. Looking back, I can't tell if I was reserved or if I just knew things weren't right. We confided our new secret to only close friends and family. We decided we needed the support from our family and friends, whether the outcome was good or bad. Again, two weeks later I began to spot. I called my ob bawling and was re-assured, again, that spotting was not uncommon and doesn't always mean miscarriage. I remember sitting on the floor combing through every pregnancy book I had looking for answers. An ultrasound revealed a blighted ovum, a sack had formed, possibly even a very small baby, but no heartbeat was found. The ultrasound tech was very reassuring and confident that my dates were just off, but I knew. A few days later, July 15, to be exact, I miscarried again.

I recently gave my testimony to a group of friends and realized how much that spring and summer changed me forever. It changed me in good ways, and bad. I was sad, fearful, and felt like no one knew what I was going through. At the same time I felt the peace that passes all understanding like I had never felt it before. I felt like the Lord literally bent down and scooped me up in His arms. As I recalled that season in my life for my friends I was struck with God's constant love for us, His specific care and concern in each life. I remember driving down to my parent's house two days after our first miscarriage to bury our baby near the pond on my parent's property. Jason and I spent the drive combing scripture for just the right verse to read as we said good-bye. I ran across this verse, and have hung onto it since:

Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for His compassion's never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, "The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for Him." Lamentations 3:22-24

While I am thankful for the growth that was initiated by that year, I am so so thankful it is only a memory now. Every time I trip over our precious boy or answer his cries at 3 a.m. I am thankful, so thankful, that the past is underfoot.