Paula Morgan....

Praise the Lord. Two pregnant women together.
Me and Sam
Sam had started kissing pregnant tummies right before we moved.

This post is long overdue. Long, long overdue. I can't believe I haven't talked about my Paula and Sam before now.

Let me start at the beginning. Paula is a friend that God sent me directly during the darkest days of my life. I know He did this because we never would've met without His intervention. A few months after David and I moved to Alabama, we were looking for a church, and we went and visited Paula and Mike Morgan's church. Well, we didn't know the area well, so after a pretty long drive to get to it, we realized that we probably wouldn't be going back because it'd be too far to get really involved easily. But we walked in and went to Sunday School. Paula and Mike were in the class, and I remember Paula thanking the class for prayer for some medical procedure that she'd just had. She wasn't very specific about it, and I look back wondering if I had some inkling that they were infertile from that, but I really don't think I did. They were very friendly, and they asked us to sit with them during the service. I asked Mike if they had any children, and he said, "Not yet." That was all. Then the service started, and I didn't give it much more thought.

As the service was ending, God spoke very clearly to me and startled me. He said, "You have to ask Paula if she's having trouble getting pregnant. And you have to do it now." I argued with Him. This was an outrageous thing for Him to ask me to do! After all, I would be hurt if someone asked me that question who didn't even know me! But He kept insisting, so as we were getting ready to leave, I said, "I hate to ask this, but are you having trouble getting pregnant?" She said, "Yes! And I've been praying for somebody with the same situation to help!" That day, God gave me the friend that I couldn't have lived without for the past three years. Early on, when we got together, I felt like I was helping her some.

Paula had been battling infertility for about two years at the time, and she was worn down with the fight and very sad. I wasn't far enough along on the journey yet to understand completely, but I would later. Then, miracle of miracles, she got pregnant! I was happy for her, but I thought, "Ok, that's it for this friendship. She's moving on. She doesn't need a sad sack around stealing her joy." So I backed off. But Paula wouldn't let me go. It took me a little while to believe her, but she really meant it when she said, "Look, I couldn't help you before because I was too sad. But now I'm doing well enough to be a support to you. I really mean it when I say that I want to help you and hear all about your sadness." And she did. She meant every word, and that means more than she'll ever know.

She was very, very sensitive to my pain. She always told me that I didn't have to talk about her pregnancy with her if I didn't want to. She probably checked her own joy in my presence far more than she would've liked. But I knew that it was safe to be sad with her, and I knew that she'd share her miracle with me if I wanted. Because she was so sensitive and caring to me, I did want to share that miracle with her.

That little miracle was Sam. He truly is a blessing from God. She prayed all the time that he'd be a happy baby, and she got that gift. He laughs and smiles all the time, and he gave me lots of hugs when I needed them most. Paula trusted me with him from his earliest days, and I really appreciate how much she let me be a part of his life. We would go out doing errands together just about every Friday, and we sometimes wondered if people would look at us and think baby had two mommies because of how we both took care of his needs without much discussion. =) We had the routine down on getting out the stroller and getting him in the restaurant, etc.

Paula always let me cry. She was always there when I needed someone to understand the pain of infertility. She never forgot how much it hurt to be me, and she offered a shoulder and her own tears instead of well-meaning advice when I needed them most. She put my doctor's appointments on her calendar, and she knew exactly when every procedure would take place and when every pregnancy test was scheduled. When I lost our first child, no one was more stunned and hurt with disbelief than she was.

But she never gave up. She believed that we'd be parents some day, somehow, and she knew the perfect times to say that and the perfect times to refrain from saying it. She's been collecting things for my baby and praying for him for years now, long before I had any hope that he'd ever exist. She is pregnant now with her second child (another miracle!), and she's just days from delivery. I can't wait to meet the new little girl Morgan.

I got a package in the mail yesterday from Paula. It's a huge box filled with lovingly wrapped baby presents (I'll show it when I get a new camera). It's sitting in my living room right now, and I woke up last night smiling just thinking about it. I love looking over there and seeing it. Paula waited and waited to give me the perfect baby shower. We moved, and she couldn't do it up the way she wanted to. But I got my baby shower last night. We opened the box on the phone with her.

I may not have another baby shower. We may have bounced around too much lately. But I can't say I haven't had one. Paula made sure of that, and I know that I will not feel a lack of showering because of what she did. In the box was a cd of infertility songs that have meant a lot to both of us over the past years. I played it and cried last night. I cried for all the good times and all the bad times. And I especially cried for my sister in Alabama who shared them all with me. She included a song on there called "Help Somebody Cry" by Greg Long. As it played, I saw a video playing in my head of all the times I've spent with Paula. I saw crying jags on her couch, I saw the day Sam was born, I saw swimming with him for the first time, I saw setting up a tent with her in the woods, I saw Sam dumping her dinner off the table at Wendy's. I saw hours and hours of precious life lived together. Paula has lived these words:

Someone you care about has a broken heart,

You want to be a friend but you don't where to start,

There are no words to speak that could ever be enough,

How you can show them your love.

Help somebody cry, be there for the tears,

God will use your life to show them He is near,

There's no easy way to make it feel alright,

When you don't have the answer why, help somebody cry.

Time will heal the wound, but that doesn't matter now,

So lend a friend your faith, walk them through the doubt.

Sometimes there's nothing you can do,

But hold somebody's hand and pray them through.

There are no words to speak that could ever be enough,

How can you show them your love?

Help somebody cry...

I'm crying right now listening to it. Paula, you will never, ever know how much your love and friendship has meant to me. You were God's hands and God's arms to me when I needed them. When He seemed far away, He sent you to be near. I will never, ever be able to thank you enough for your self-sacrificial love. You took the verses to mourn with those who mourn seriously in a way that many people don't. You always pointed me to the Savior with your example, but you were also real and honest about the times that you didn't want to talk to Him much either. You are a true woman of God with a great gift of compassion. Thank you for sharing that gift with me. Thank you for teaching me that compassion, and thank you for giving me a wonderful example of how to reach out to others with infertility after God has answered your own prayers. I hope to be half the friend you have been to me to someone else that needs a hand. We'll keep passing it on. I love you.