We have been home from China for 3 days now and yesterday marked two weeks as a family of five. There is so much I could write and say, there is so much beautiful and so much perfection and yet his little life is so fragile.
I've always known from living in the world of infertility and pregnancy loss that suggesting an infertile "just adopt" was about the most taboo thing you could say. And I respected it, I honored it, even if at the time I didn't quite understand it.
This past year has been an incredible journey for us full of ups and downs, twists and turns. There have been moments of anxiety and fear, and moments of joy and hope and purpose. We read books and watched what felt like endless hours of videos all in preparation of the great unknown of bringing a wounded child into our family. We prepared ourselves because we knew his heart had been hurt but to what degree we may never know. The hurts that have filled his tiny life he might not even understand, and if he does he might not ever know how to express.
On the other side of the coin, we entered into this process with excitement and anticipation, but also with trepidation knowing that the journey God was calling us into would be wonderful but difficult. There would be tears of joy, but many tears of sadness as we try desperately to navigate our little one through a world that to this point has caused him much pain.
Even up to our leaving for China it felt completely surreal. I would sit and wonder if this was really happening. As we packed bags, bought gifts, confirmed our flights, prepared and prepared and prepared - I wondered the whole time, were we really about to become parents again?
The night before we were set to leave, at 8 pm - when we were scheduled to fly out at 5:45 the following morning, my phone lit up with a text from our airline that our flight had been cancelled. They had immediately put us on a different flight to Chicago, effectively missing our flight to Beijing by 1 hour. We spent the next hour frantically coming up with a plan B, and at 7am the next morning we packed up our minivan and drove to Chicago to catch our flight to Beijing... because living in a small community means cancelling flights just because.
The first 10 months of our journey were easy - difficult because of lots of paperwork, but everything always fit right into place. The last 5 months were frustrating when there was delay after delay in our travel to meet our son. Even up to the very last night.
Our flight to China was incredibly easy. Am had a child's meal which meant her food was infinitely better than the rest of ours and she raved about how nice the flight staff was. And they really were, so she was right on there. All the way to China it felt like a dream... felt like I was sitting in a car for 13 hours to go on a dream vacation. Being in Beijing felt like visiting a big city and us and several other families kept commenting, even as we stood on the Great Wall of China that it didn't feel like we were in China. It felt like we were on a really awesome vacation.
I think that going to Beijing for the first 3 days of our adoption trip was one of the best decisions we could have made. They keep you so ridiculously busy that there is no way you have a chance to stop and realize just how jetlagged you are. You just run on adrenaline as you are shown the great history and culture of your child's birth country. The people of China are so nice and the beauty of the country really overwhelmed me. It saddened me to see a people and culture so beautiful, a family structure deep and strong, but yet know how unfree they are. In the few people we talked to who spoke English that was there comment. They liked the freedoms of America but they loved their country. And to be honest, in a way, we fell in love with their country as well.
Throughout our time in Beijing I constantly wondered if we were really on this trip to bring home our son or if this was all just a ruse. What if there had been a mistake and we really didn't have a child waiting for us? What if they brought us the wrong one? What if all of this was not the end of this journey and we went home empty handed?
Flying to our son's city was quite possibly the best feeling ever. Taking pictures of our first glimpse of Nanjing and knowing that within 24 hours he would be in our arms forever - that was amazing.
The story could continue on forever, and I will finish this another day - but here we are at the climax of our story. The next steps start our newest journey, marking our first few days with our beautiful baby.
Having been home 3 days now and feeling the effects of jetlag worse than ever, my heart is stuck in melancholy. It is frustrating to say the least to be navigating these new challenges with exhaustion as my constant companion. All I want is to spend every waking moment fostering attachment with my new son, but I have to be patient and wait. I have to understand that his hesitation towards me, isn't me at all - it is a history of hurts that I will never fully understand.
I know now that suggesting that a childless family adopt is not appropriate because adoption is a calling, but I also now understand that adoption has always been a part of my calling. We will press on, treasure on, live on, seek on - desperate to secure in our little one a foundation of love, truth, and hope so that his future might be bright and his heart full.
Showing posts with label life and loss. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life and loss. Show all posts
5.01.2015
Remembering and moving on.....
In all that is going on around us right now, it is hard for me to blaze past tomorrow without remembering what the day is for us. It was on May 2, 2013 (just 1 month after our sweet Doron's birth) that I was suffering my 7th miscarriage. Losing Isaiah was difficult, he was by far the longest pregnancy I had ever carried and still lost, and because of a tumultuous pregnancy we had spent the 5 weeks we had known of his existence getting to know his little body inside of me.
You can read about Isaiah's pregnancy here and his memorial service here. I remember those few days between losing him and his service on May 4 as a sort of limbo I lived in. It was the world of grief that I knew from previous losses that I would come out of but I didn't know when or how. I just knew that somehow Jesus had always carried us through and he would only continue to do so.
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| Isaiah Michael 9 weeks gestation |
You can read about Isaiah's pregnancy here and his memorial service here. I remember those few days between losing him and his service on May 4 as a sort of limbo I lived in. It was the world of grief that I knew from previous losses that I would come out of but I didn't know when or how. I just knew that somehow Jesus had always carried us through and he would only continue to do so.
Isaiah came as a surprise, halting and interupting our adoption plans. We had seen him as an answer to prayer as to what we should do when we didn't know where to go. And when we lost him, it gave us more time to think and prepare. We had made the decision to wait until Isaiah's due date before pursuing adoption any further. I never wanted to replace a child I'd lost with a new child. I wanted to be for sure that I had 100% grieved Isaiah's loss before we moved forward with bringing another child into our home.
For months I would rock Zemirah to sleep and wonder when I would get to hold Isaiah and rock him to sleep. I mourned him, long and hard. His due date came and went and still I would have to remind myself that Isaiah was never coming to my arms this side of heaven. It is strange the way grief can grip you. It holds on to your heart and while slipping into the shadows it will alert that it is still there at the most inoportune times. I would sit and wonder about the child we would adopt someday and in my mind say "When I can rock Isaiah..."
As time passed eventually I stopped thinking about rocking Isaiah. I stopped wondering what he would have looked like or smelled like. I stopped picturing him in my arms. By this time we were ready to move on with our adoption from China, and finally we are ready.
It was a few months ago when I realized that when I rock Zemirah to sleep, or just sit in my rocking chair while she falls asleep by herself, I wonder what life will be like when Doron is in my arms. I remember Isaiah but he is not who I yearn for anymore. My heart has healed and I am ready and willing, excited, to bring home a different little boy, one who has his own dreams and passions, one uniquely created to be himself. No strings attached. No previous agenda. Doron for who Doron is.
Someday all my children will play together in heaven, our 8 babies who have gone before us and the 3 we have here on earth. I can't imagine what it will be like, but it will be a beautiful day.
7.17.2014
Remembering
July is when Aaron and I remember four anniversaries of miscarriages from the past 8 years. Half of our miscarriages have occurred in July, it has no longer become dates for us, but throughout the whole month it rests in the back of our minds. Our first miscarriage occurred on July 20, 2006.
I know I've written often about our miscarriages and our anniversaries. We are now 8 months from our last miscarriage, so for us it feels strange. 8 months doesn't seem like long, but when you are back to back miscarriage to pregnancy - infertility to miscarriage - pregnancy to miscarriage - adoption to pregnancy - miscarriage to adoption, you feel like you're on a roller coaster.
Right now we are in the early stages of our adoption. It feels a lot like being at the end of your first trimester, you are finally ready to accept this pregnancy and believe this baby is really going to come home. You still have a long way to go, your ultrasound is still months away, but you are excited. Meeting your baby someday seems real.
So to be remembering these anniversaries while being in a strange state of "pregnancy" leaves me feeling surreal about them all. Like I can look back and say, "Wow, God - look what you did and look where you are taking us!"
I love this song by Matt Redman:
Never Once
Standing on this mountaintop
Looking just how far we’ve come
Knowing that for every step
You were with us
Kneeling on this battle ground
Seeing just how much You’ve done
Knowing every victory
Was Your power in us
Scars and struggles on the way
But with joy our hearts can say
Yes, our hearts can say
Never once did we ever walk alone
Never once did You leave us on our own
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
Scars and struggles on the way
But with joy our hearts can say
Never once did we ever walk alone
Carried by Your constant grace
Held within Your perfect peace
Never once, no, we never walk alone
Never once did we ever walk alone
Never once did You leave us on our own
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
Every step we are breathing in Your grace
Evermore we’ll be breathing out Your praise
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
Looking just how far we’ve come
Knowing that for every step
You were with us
Kneeling on this battle ground
Seeing just how much You’ve done
Knowing every victory
Was Your power in us
Scars and struggles on the way
But with joy our hearts can say
Yes, our hearts can say
Never once did we ever walk alone
Never once did You leave us on our own
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
Scars and struggles on the way
But with joy our hearts can say
Never once did we ever walk alone
Carried by Your constant grace
Held within Your perfect peace
Never once, no, we never walk alone
Never once did we ever walk alone
Never once did You leave us on our own
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
Every step we are breathing in Your grace
Evermore we’ll be breathing out Your praise
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
The words echo exactly what my heart feels, like we are standing on a mountaintop, looking back on all that we went through or that we're kneeling on the battleground, remembering the war that was fought and all that our hearts experienced. I feel like we can look at our hearts and see our own scars and our muscles bear the strength of the struggle. But through it all - and I've always said this - never once did we not feel God's love, his faithfulness, his strength carrying us through it all.
I remember pregnant with Zemirah, just weeks after our 6th miscarriage, reading and owning
2 Timothy 2:13 "If we are faithless, he remains faithful, for he cannot disown himself."
I felt so faithless, I had no confidence that that pregnancy would bring me a baby in my arms. I knew God was good, I knew he was faithful and I knew that when I went through another miscarriage I would survive. I am thankful that God had different plans for the little life growing inside of me.
This July we remember the lives of our little ones in heaven. Amariss speaks often and openly about her brothers and sisters in heaven. Their lives hold value to her and to us. They are a part of our family and someday we will meet them, hold them, and pour on them all the love we have missed.
I am so thankful that this July we celebrate all of our children;
Baby K, Tiny, Itty Bitty, Amariss, Cinco, Woven, Bunnin, Zemirah, Isaiah, Little One, and our soon to be Baby Boy.
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| Amariss found and loved on a baby blue jay yesterday. |
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| Zemirah danced and praised Jesus with me this morning. |
5.02.2014
Isaiah, we remember you.
It's hard to believe where we were just a year ago. The weather was certainly nicer than it has been, but the weather isn't really what's on my mind. It was a year ago that I woke up early in the morning to cramping in a regular pattern. The cramps became more and more intense: paralyzed by pain, my mind couldn't comprehend what was really happening, while my husband prayed for a miracle.
Isaiah, we met you too soon. You're not just a number in a line-up of recurrent miscarriages for us. You're a God-given reminder of life given and life taken away. You put life to the lives of those like you that have been lost. You put a face and a name to children whose faces and names have not yet been seen or heard.
We have survived, although I wasn't sure I could. We have recovered, but will never forget.
As we move on to the next phase and stage of our lives, we see reminders of you everywhere we go. Spring brings blossoms of bleeding hearts just over where your body rests. A small statue will be placed outside soon, to mark where we laid our eyes upon you one last time. Oh little boy, you were wanted. You were cherished. We live full, happy lives here, but yearn for the days when we are a complete family; when in heaven there are no more tears, no more sadness; where we see all of our children, completely whole.
It is hard to believe, with where we are now, that it has only been one year since we felt so much pain. It was so difficult for me to imagine being the same again. It was difficult for me to imagine not saying your name every day. Darling, I still think of you, nearly every day. I still miss you, nearly every day. My days and life are full, but you are still missing.
I am happy, I am joyful, but I will never not miss having you in my life.
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| 11 weeks gestation |
2.20.2014
I'm struggling to not start this post off like the last several... "Well, it's been awhile" ?
But seriously, it has. You probably haven't noticed the absence as much as I have. My blog following is very small and probably for the very reason that there is little of interest to read. This could be because my life is not interesting or dramatic - OR - (and this is probably more true) I am swarming in lists of things to do and the catharsis of writing falls low, and then often times my writings are more for me than for you. Sorry to say (well, not really) but some things are private and most of our lovely lives has not met the eye of public scrutiny and for good reason. Also, if my children are awake and I'm trying to write, either one or both of them thwart my attempts at getting them to play nicely with each other and I end up with either one or both of them on my lap. Such has happened now, so I may have to abandon this post at a moment's notice, thus leaving it unfinished and further proving why the posts are so few and far between.
I don't even know where to start an actual post. I have a lot on my mind right now. As far as the adoption plans go I could talk for hours on what God is teaching me through all of this, and tell you in about 5 seconds that nothing has changed at this point. I don't know exactly how this journey is supposed to look, but each day it is a little more glaringly obvious that it won't go the way I had planned it to, but I guess that's how our lives have always been. Brie's playbook never did have all the best plays.
As far as miscarriage, loss, all that is and will be in the world - today my heart is sad. A friend got crushing news today and I find myself wishing I could fight this battle for her. Wishing that somehow, someway, in all there is in this world - this was not the news she received today. That her world would be full of tears of joy and rejoicing and triumph instead of a crushed and aching heart.
It just makes me want to cry out! Why does it have to be like this for her? And I hug my girls, I dance with them, I laugh with them, I sing to them, and I hold them and my heart aches. I have two miracles, I can not ever take that for granted. Loss after loss, heartbreak after heartbreak; I have these two. Why can't she have this? Why not?
In all of this, in all these years - I have learned more than ever the value in loving, and treasuring what you have. Do I want more? Oh yes, I want more - but if I don't, if I never - these two, they are enough. My heart is more than full. And if, oh how my heart would break, if I lost these two - I hope that I would say that He is enough. That the creator of life, the giver of all good things, He truly is enough to fill and satisfy me.
Please pray for my friend today. Her heart is breaking. She needs an overwhelming amount of love and support.
But seriously, it has. You probably haven't noticed the absence as much as I have. My blog following is very small and probably for the very reason that there is little of interest to read. This could be because my life is not interesting or dramatic - OR - (and this is probably more true) I am swarming in lists of things to do and the catharsis of writing falls low, and then often times my writings are more for me than for you. Sorry to say (well, not really) but some things are private and most of our lovely lives has not met the eye of public scrutiny and for good reason. Also, if my children are awake and I'm trying to write, either one or both of them thwart my attempts at getting them to play nicely with each other and I end up with either one or both of them on my lap. Such has happened now, so I may have to abandon this post at a moment's notice, thus leaving it unfinished and further proving why the posts are so few and far between.
I don't even know where to start an actual post. I have a lot on my mind right now. As far as the adoption plans go I could talk for hours on what God is teaching me through all of this, and tell you in about 5 seconds that nothing has changed at this point. I don't know exactly how this journey is supposed to look, but each day it is a little more glaringly obvious that it won't go the way I had planned it to, but I guess that's how our lives have always been. Brie's playbook never did have all the best plays.
As far as miscarriage, loss, all that is and will be in the world - today my heart is sad. A friend got crushing news today and I find myself wishing I could fight this battle for her. Wishing that somehow, someway, in all there is in this world - this was not the news she received today. That her world would be full of tears of joy and rejoicing and triumph instead of a crushed and aching heart.
It just makes me want to cry out! Why does it have to be like this for her? And I hug my girls, I dance with them, I laugh with them, I sing to them, and I hold them and my heart aches. I have two miracles, I can not ever take that for granted. Loss after loss, heartbreak after heartbreak; I have these two. Why can't she have this? Why not?
In all of this, in all these years - I have learned more than ever the value in loving, and treasuring what you have. Do I want more? Oh yes, I want more - but if I don't, if I never - these two, they are enough. My heart is more than full. And if, oh how my heart would break, if I lost these two - I hope that I would say that He is enough. That the creator of life, the giver of all good things, He truly is enough to fill and satisfy me.
Please pray for my friend today. Her heart is breaking. She needs an overwhelming amount of love and support.
11.18.2013
Step-by-step...
I knew I would blog this week, there is so much to say, but I haven't known how to say it.
Really, there hasn't been a whole lot to report. I made a surprise trip to Arkansas two weekends ago to surprise my mom for her birthday! (and if I was really great at taking pictures I'd have some for you, but wrangling two kids by myself for a 12 hr drive was enough).
On our way to Arkansas we got the news that our application had been accepted by the agency and we were ready to move on with the next step! That step was signing a lot of paperwork...
Officially, the paperwork has been signed and mailed, and according to the United States Postal Service should arrive at our agency's head office on Thursday. Woohoo!
I really feel God's hand in all of this. Down to every last tiny, seemingly unimportant detail like our paperwork arriving on Thursday, November 21.
A little over 6 months ago we miscarried a little boy, Isaiah. Many of you have seen our posts and have shown us so much support. Amazingly, our hearts have healed so well from this loss, which I know is nothing short of God's divine goodness. We were blessed to have a memorial service for him, and because of this, his loss helped bring closure to us from 7 years of miscarriages.
We had begun looking into adoption in January of this year, long before we knew we were expecting. With our pregnancy we put adoption off to the side for awhile. When we lost Isaiah, and were ready to pursue adoption again, I knew I would not be fully ready until we had passed and mourned his due date. This Wednesday, November 20, is Isaiah's due date.
He sees us, he hears us. He knows exactly who we are, and where we are in our journey. God does not take a single thing for granted.
Sunday, one of our pastor's reminded us that "Our God takes impossibilities and makes them possibilities." That is so true. From step one he has taken what seems impossible to us and opened a door and made it a possibility. He has closed doors that we may have wanted to step through, knowing it wasn't the right plan for us. We are completely trusting Him as we take one more step toward our possibility.
Today we also remember our 2nd miscarriage. Our little baby, Tiny, was miscarried on November 18, 2006. Sometimes I wonder when I will stop remembering these anniversaries, but my heart feels that as long as we live, we won't. These little ones, a part of our lives for an incredibly too short amount of time, are a part of us. We lost Tiny while at a FamilyLife Marriage Conference, we were a little over 6 weeks along.
So, this week is strangely bittersweet. We mourn a lot of loss but look forward with tempered anticipation for all that is to come.
Really, there hasn't been a whole lot to report. I made a surprise trip to Arkansas two weekends ago to surprise my mom for her birthday! (and if I was really great at taking pictures I'd have some for you, but wrangling two kids by myself for a 12 hr drive was enough).
On our way to Arkansas we got the news that our application had been accepted by the agency and we were ready to move on with the next step! That step was signing a lot of paperwork...
Officially, the paperwork has been signed and mailed, and according to the United States Postal Service should arrive at our agency's head office on Thursday. Woohoo!
I really feel God's hand in all of this. Down to every last tiny, seemingly unimportant detail like our paperwork arriving on Thursday, November 21.
A little over 6 months ago we miscarried a little boy, Isaiah. Many of you have seen our posts and have shown us so much support. Amazingly, our hearts have healed so well from this loss, which I know is nothing short of God's divine goodness. We were blessed to have a memorial service for him, and because of this, his loss helped bring closure to us from 7 years of miscarriages.
We had begun looking into adoption in January of this year, long before we knew we were expecting. With our pregnancy we put adoption off to the side for awhile. When we lost Isaiah, and were ready to pursue adoption again, I knew I would not be fully ready until we had passed and mourned his due date. This Wednesday, November 20, is Isaiah's due date.
He sees us, he hears us. He knows exactly who we are, and where we are in our journey. God does not take a single thing for granted.
Sunday, one of our pastor's reminded us that "Our God takes impossibilities and makes them possibilities." That is so true. From step one he has taken what seems impossible to us and opened a door and made it a possibility. He has closed doors that we may have wanted to step through, knowing it wasn't the right plan for us. We are completely trusting Him as we take one more step toward our possibility.
Today we also remember our 2nd miscarriage. Our little baby, Tiny, was miscarried on November 18, 2006. Sometimes I wonder when I will stop remembering these anniversaries, but my heart feels that as long as we live, we won't. These little ones, a part of our lives for an incredibly too short amount of time, are a part of us. We lost Tiny while at a FamilyLife Marriage Conference, we were a little over 6 weeks along.
So, this week is strangely bittersweet. We mourn a lot of loss but look forward with tempered anticipation for all that is to come.
8.25.2013
Help me find it
Wasting time on facebook tonight, a friend had posted this song.
It is by Sidewalk Prophets, and not one I had heard before, but it fits exactly how we feel right now.
I can't remember who I have told what to, so if I'm repeating myself I will edit it later. Our final test results for the last blood test we needed done to check for an immun... uh, there are words I don't know or understand about to be said - immuno - something... Essentially, here's the down-low:
In January of 2007 we had a giant gammot of blood tests done to determine potential causes for our recurrent miscarriages. They checked for things like Lupus, MTHFR, and some other things... Something to the effect of, if your immune system attacks the baby it causes tiny blood clots in the placenta and the baby cannot get the oxygen and nutrients it needs and dies, and then you miscarry. Well, back in 2007 they didn't know as much as they know now, so there is another test in that protocol that I hadn't had done. The Beta 2 Glycoproteins test. I had another test done (and I can't remember what it was called either) - because in 2007 my results tested "intermediate" which really doesn't mean anything, and would not be a cause of miscarriage but they retested it anyway.
Because the things they tested this time had a treatment, if I tested positive for either of them my miscarriage risk would drop to 15 -20 % (normal for most women) if I were to get pregnant and follow the treatment protocol.
However, I tested in the normal range for both of these. Which is good, I'm glad I don't have anything wrong with me, but it still leaves us looking for answers. It also leaves us with a miscarriage risk of 30-50% because of our history.
So, now we are at a crossroads with big decisions to make. And to be honest, for the first time in months my husband and I are on the same page.
We both agree, we're on the "wait and see" page. We don't know what to do. So for now, we wait for what God might show us. Praying for big answers in the next few months - the kind with giant flashing signs that say "THIS IS WHAT YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO DO!"
This song says exactly what I'm thinking and feeling tonight. Thank you so much for all of your prayers on this journey, we really do appreciate all of them!
It is by Sidewalk Prophets, and not one I had heard before, but it fits exactly how we feel right now.
I can't remember who I have told what to, so if I'm repeating myself I will edit it later. Our final test results for the last blood test we needed done to check for an immun... uh, there are words I don't know or understand about to be said - immuno - something... Essentially, here's the down-low:
In January of 2007 we had a giant gammot of blood tests done to determine potential causes for our recurrent miscarriages. They checked for things like Lupus, MTHFR, and some other things... Something to the effect of, if your immune system attacks the baby it causes tiny blood clots in the placenta and the baby cannot get the oxygen and nutrients it needs and dies, and then you miscarry. Well, back in 2007 they didn't know as much as they know now, so there is another test in that protocol that I hadn't had done. The Beta 2 Glycoproteins test. I had another test done (and I can't remember what it was called either) - because in 2007 my results tested "intermediate" which really doesn't mean anything, and would not be a cause of miscarriage but they retested it anyway.
Because the things they tested this time had a treatment, if I tested positive for either of them my miscarriage risk would drop to 15 -20 % (normal for most women) if I were to get pregnant and follow the treatment protocol.
However, I tested in the normal range for both of these. Which is good, I'm glad I don't have anything wrong with me, but it still leaves us looking for answers. It also leaves us with a miscarriage risk of 30-50% because of our history.
So, now we are at a crossroads with big decisions to make. And to be honest, for the first time in months my husband and I are on the same page.
We both agree, we're on the "wait and see" page. We don't know what to do. So for now, we wait for what God might show us. Praying for big answers in the next few months - the kind with giant flashing signs that say "THIS IS WHAT YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO DO!"
This song says exactly what I'm thinking and feeling tonight. Thank you so much for all of your prayers on this journey, we really do appreciate all of them!
8.16.2013
A quick update!
It has to be a quick update because I'm pretty sure if I blink my life will fly past me!
Homeschooling:
We have been so busy this week with our first week of homeschooling and to top it off I got a cold. So, in between trying to modify lesson plans or prepare for the next day, I was trying to catch sleep where I could and continue to keep up with our regular activities. To say this week has been crazy would be an understatement.
But, my 5 year old is really enjoying Kindergarten at home and my 1 year old hates it. But we'll figure things out with her, it might mean postponing school until her afternoon nap time. Which is what I'm going to try and do today since yesterday was so awful.
On the reproductive front:
After a little bit of office mix-up at my midwife's office (really who can blame them they have a ton of patients) and maybe a misunderstanding on my part, after 3 weeks I finally got my blood tests ordered and drawn on Tuesday afternoon. I haven't heard back yet what the results were. I called yesterday but something tells me I probably won't know until Monday and even then I'll need to schedule an appointment with my midwife to discuss our options from here.
So that is where we sit right now. We are still waiting for answers, and I feel like I'm right on the precipice of major decision making. The outcome of these tests will make a lot of decisions for us right off the top, which is encouraging, but I know that they will also spark more discussion, more planning, and maybe even a little more confusion as we now have to take the next step.
In the meantime I am going to enjoy the weekend coming up. We finally have very little on our agenda and I'm looking forward to enjoying family time and hopefully cleaning the house. (Betya never thought you'd hear me say that, eh?)
Happy Friday!
Homeschooling:
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| My daughter doing a numbers puzzle. |
But, my 5 year old is really enjoying Kindergarten at home and my 1 year old hates it. But we'll figure things out with her, it might mean postponing school until her afternoon nap time. Which is what I'm going to try and do today since yesterday was so awful.
On the reproductive front:
After a little bit of office mix-up at my midwife's office (really who can blame them they have a ton of patients) and maybe a misunderstanding on my part, after 3 weeks I finally got my blood tests ordered and drawn on Tuesday afternoon. I haven't heard back yet what the results were. I called yesterday but something tells me I probably won't know until Monday and even then I'll need to schedule an appointment with my midwife to discuss our options from here.
So that is where we sit right now. We are still waiting for answers, and I feel like I'm right on the precipice of major decision making. The outcome of these tests will make a lot of decisions for us right off the top, which is encouraging, but I know that they will also spark more discussion, more planning, and maybe even a little more confusion as we now have to take the next step.
In the meantime I am going to enjoy the weekend coming up. We finally have very little on our agenda and I'm looking forward to enjoying family time and hopefully cleaning the house. (Betya never thought you'd hear me say that, eh?)
Happy Friday!
7.30.2013
Just one of those days
Some days my heart can't help but hurt.
I don't know why. Maybe it is the rain just like the day of his service, the unusually chilly weather for early May, wearing the same sweatshirt as the day we lost him, the abundance of pregnancy announcements and photos on facebook... Lots of little things can all add up, and I ache to hold my baby.
Strange to say, isn't it? If he were still here I would feel him moving around my tummy. I'd be tired, taking this opportunity to lay down and marvel at the way God creates a child inside his mother. So, it is very strange to say that I ache to hold my baby. I wouldn't just be holding him now, I'd be enveloping him - surrounding him with my whole person, nurturing him as he grows and becomes all that he needs to be to be healthy outside of me.
Instead, I take a few deep breaths, listen to some sweet songs, and weep. Then I pick up my feet, and move on.
Each day I move on...
I don't know why. Maybe it is the rain just like the day of his service, the unusually chilly weather for early May, wearing the same sweatshirt as the day we lost him, the abundance of pregnancy announcements and photos on facebook... Lots of little things can all add up, and I ache to hold my baby.
Strange to say, isn't it? If he were still here I would feel him moving around my tummy. I'd be tired, taking this opportunity to lay down and marvel at the way God creates a child inside his mother. So, it is very strange to say that I ache to hold my baby. I wouldn't just be holding him now, I'd be enveloping him - surrounding him with my whole person, nurturing him as he grows and becomes all that he needs to be to be healthy outside of me.
Instead, I take a few deep breaths, listen to some sweet songs, and weep. Then I pick up my feet, and move on.
Each day I move on...
6.24.2013
I wish I was in my second trimester.
I'm happily away visiting my parents house for the next few weeks. Us girls have left hubby alone to fend for himself as we vacation in a little slice of paradise...
I can't help but remember how I had envisioned this trip a few months ago. Expecting to be nearly 20 weeks pregnant by now, clearly showing and feeling all those kicks and rolls of our 3rd baby.
Instead, I open my facebook news feed all to often and see posts from pregnant friends that have passed me on my journey. The ones that stayed pregnant. I wouldn't wish for anything different for them, but a little piece of my heart aches a tiny bit every time and I sigh and think:
'I wish I was in my second trimester.'
I'm stuck in a strange world. The world at peace, and the world so sad. The world that forgets that Isaiah will not join our family and the world that is so thankful I was able to spend so much time with him and have a beautiful memorial service for him.
To think that I was supposed to be so pregnant this time of year, and now it is sometimes hard for me to remember I even was pregnant just a few months ago. It baffles me.
People ask me how I am, and truly, genuinely, I am good. Really good, God is so faithful, so constant, so true. He has never let me down or abandoned me. I feel his strength when I don't want to go on and his peace when I think the road ahead is too overwhelming. But in the midst of all of that, I just miss Isaiah.
That's all there is to it. I miss him. The little boy I never had a chance to meet. The one we didn't plan but were so excited to have. The one who could have been a playmate for his older cousins and whose big sisters would have dressed him up in fairy costumes and hair bows while he ran around with a sword in his hand and built lego houses.
I miss him, a lot. Every day, I miss him.
So if you ask me how I am, and you can see that I'm truly good, its because I am.
But I still miss my son.
I can't help but remember how I had envisioned this trip a few months ago. Expecting to be nearly 20 weeks pregnant by now, clearly showing and feeling all those kicks and rolls of our 3rd baby.
Instead, I open my facebook news feed all to often and see posts from pregnant friends that have passed me on my journey. The ones that stayed pregnant. I wouldn't wish for anything different for them, but a little piece of my heart aches a tiny bit every time and I sigh and think:
'I wish I was in my second trimester.'
I'm stuck in a strange world. The world at peace, and the world so sad. The world that forgets that Isaiah will not join our family and the world that is so thankful I was able to spend so much time with him and have a beautiful memorial service for him.
To think that I was supposed to be so pregnant this time of year, and now it is sometimes hard for me to remember I even was pregnant just a few months ago. It baffles me.
People ask me how I am, and truly, genuinely, I am good. Really good, God is so faithful, so constant, so true. He has never let me down or abandoned me. I feel his strength when I don't want to go on and his peace when I think the road ahead is too overwhelming. But in the midst of all of that, I just miss Isaiah.
That's all there is to it. I miss him. The little boy I never had a chance to meet. The one we didn't plan but were so excited to have. The one who could have been a playmate for his older cousins and whose big sisters would have dressed him up in fairy costumes and hair bows while he ran around with a sword in his hand and built lego houses.
I miss him, a lot. Every day, I miss him.
So if you ask me how I am, and you can see that I'm truly good, its because I am.
But I still miss my son.
5.18.2013
Life Lately
I should go to bed, seriously. It's 11:30 pm and Z has gotten into a frustrating habit of waking up at 3:15 am and just hanging out for awhile. I'll be regretting this later I'm sure.
But, I've spent my evening pouring over the memorial pictures, with the song He Weeps by Fireflight running through my head.
Appropriate really, although I haven't done much weeping the last few days, just you know, sighing.
My husband and I finally celebrated our birthday tonight. It was especially wonderful since I enjoyed a huge steak, medium rare, a couple of sweet teas, and way too many Texas Roadhouse rolls. It was delicious. (Thank you parents, we appreciated it!)
I feel like I should give you an update on how we're doing. We're doing good? Good is such a strange way to phrase it, but we're not doing bad? I don't know. I guess, we're moving through this.
Aaron and I were talking to night about how God has strengthened us through this, how he may not have given us the miracle of Isaiah living on Earth, but he is working a miracle through the pain of losing Isaiah. (We worded it more eloquently when we were talking about it earlier). Just that we have seen his hand on our entire pregnancy, from the moment of conception and the several weeks we were clueless to his pregnancy - through to even now. Even now.
When I posted the memorial piece yesterday I posted the song Sunshine by JJ Heller - well yesterday I received in the mail from a friend this:
But, I've spent my evening pouring over the memorial pictures, with the song He Weeps by Fireflight running through my head.
Appropriate really, although I haven't done much weeping the last few days, just you know, sighing.
My husband and I finally celebrated our birthday tonight. It was especially wonderful since I enjoyed a huge steak, medium rare, a couple of sweet teas, and way too many Texas Roadhouse rolls. It was delicious. (Thank you parents, we appreciated it!)
I feel like I should give you an update on how we're doing. We're doing good? Good is such a strange way to phrase it, but we're not doing bad? I don't know. I guess, we're moving through this.
Aaron and I were talking to night about how God has strengthened us through this, how he may not have given us the miracle of Isaiah living on Earth, but he is working a miracle through the pain of losing Isaiah. (We worded it more eloquently when we were talking about it earlier). Just that we have seen his hand on our entire pregnancy, from the moment of conception and the several weeks we were clueless to his pregnancy - through to even now. Even now.
When I posted the memorial piece yesterday I posted the song Sunshine by JJ Heller - well yesterday I received in the mail from a friend this:
The card read: Sending you some sunshine in the midst of your storm
She sent me a box full of everything yellow, it definitely brought me a lot of sunshine and made my day. Everything was yellow!
Sometimes are really good, sometimes I'm really sad. I'm having an especially difficult time with little boys. I miss not having mine. There was a tiny, newborn baby boy in the waiting area at Texas Roadhouse tonight and I just wanted to snatch him up and take him home. I tried to keep that thought to myself though as I'm sure his mother wouldn't appreciate knowing there was a crazy stalker baby stealer in the restaurant. I restrained myself, I did not steal that woman's super cute baby.
But I wanted to...
okay. okay. not really.
but kind of.
Anyway, here are a few pictures of the last few days - As much as there has been sorrow, I've enjoyed my little girls even more. A loss always punctuates a gain and my sweet girls are a big gain. Treasures I tell them, precious treasures.
This little girl adores her daddy!
How Zemirah manages to smile while being squished by her big sister is beyond me, but she loves it!
This is how I spent my Mother's Day afternoon, tickling my girls and really really laughing. It was a hard day, but I really did enjoy my babies.
Yes, that's a booger on Zemirah's chin; it had apparently dried there during her nap and she wouldn't let me pick it off.
So that is a bit of our lives the past few days. God has been very good to us, he has blessed us immensely and as we heal from the loss of Isaiah we will continue to know and feel his blessings even more.
5.16.2013
Isaiah's Song & Memorial Service
I am a big JJ Heller fan. I like to sing "When I'm With You" to my girls and "The Boat Song" to my husband. So it is only fitting that we have a song by JJ Heller for sweet little Isaiah too.
At the end of his memorial service we played "Sunshine" and while the music played my beautiful 5 year old daughter, completely enamored with her tiny baby brother and with a perfect perspective of the wonders of heaven, danced through the whole song.
It was perfect.
While this song plays you can scroll through a few of our memorial pictures. These pictures were taken by two amazing photographers from Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep. What a beautiful organization, thank you for capturing this day for us.
Isaiah Michael Kellett
May 2, 2013
7:50 am
This was engraved on Isaiah's white keepsake box that we have and also on the inside of the heart shaped box he was buried in.
This box was fitting for our butterfly baby, engraved on the outside was "expect miracles...they happen every day." It speaks well of the short and miraculous life Isaiah lived.
Isaiah's statue
My girls
You'll see in the next few pictures that Amariss was quite the comforter. She loved and adored her little brother very much.
My parents
A prouder big sister, I have never met.
Aaron's mom holding Zemirah; our parents did a wonderful job keeping her occupied and taking turns holding her.
We read:
Isaiah 49:14-23
Isaiah 65:17-24
Isaiah 66:7-13
Our final goodbyes
Amariss loves to finish her dances with a big full Mommy hug
*Isaiah was buried near our Bleeding Heart plant. We found it fitting as it is in full bloom in early May. We were also gifted with a Japanese Maple from Aaron's mom and a Blue Hydrangea from my parents. In addition I received a wind chime from a wonderful group of friends and our once empty shade garden is now very full and has come to possess much meaning.*
5.12.2013
Mother's Day
It's Mother's Day and in many ways I feel Isaiah's loss more poignantly today then most other days.
Although, I've noticed that as the shock of this loss has worn off, my heart is aching more deeply.
I have so many emotions and am doing such a poor job expressing them. Maybe tomorrow I'll be more able.
For all the women out there with aching empty arms this Mother's Day, my heart is aching for you too. Praying you feel God's grace and presence wrapped more tightly around you today.
Although, I've noticed that as the shock of this loss has worn off, my heart is aching more deeply.
I have so many emotions and am doing such a poor job expressing them. Maybe tomorrow I'll be more able.
For all the women out there with aching empty arms this Mother's Day, my heart is aching for you too. Praying you feel God's grace and presence wrapped more tightly around you today.
5.08.2013
The last 6 days....
I can't believe that tomorrow marks 1 week since we lost our sweet Isaiah. Time has moved slowly and at warp speed at the same time.
1 week ago I got the muffle fixed but it feels like months ago.
1 week ago I bought maternity clothes and a blue whale sweater in anticipation that Tic Tac would be a boy. It feels like just yesterday.
Today was similar to last Wednesday, marked with perfect blue skies and warm sunshine. Only today I could walk to pick Am up from school, and today my neighbor took my girls to the park with her kids so I could have some time to myself. Last week we all laughed and played together on a blanket under the big maple tree while our 5 year olds put on a play about kitties again. We talked about Rat's miscarriage (their cat) and I made a gesture and said "I feel ya sista" as a joke. Oh how true the next day would make that statement.
Thursday was, well, overwhelming. In every sense of the word. I haven't yet decided if I'll post the details of that awful morning, from the early morning cramps to the very end just a few hours later.
We were so blessed to spend 2 1/2 days with our sweet Isaiah, memorizing him, holding him, counting his fingers and toes - loving him just like we would any other baby. Our time with him was just too short.
A few have asked just how we knew Isaiah was a boy, it was quite obvious when he was born. Although it wouldn't have been visible by ultrasound, there is no doubt about it.
My parents made a quick trip up - I say quick because they left within 1 hr of my mom getting home from work, but the 11 hour trip was certainly not quick for them. But they came - and they mourned with us.
We had a beautiful service on Saturday attended by just us and our parents. It was exactly what we all needed and brought healing full circle. We called Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep, and were blessed by two wonderful volunteer photographers who came out and took pictures of our memorial service. They were truly a gift to us as we were able to experience Isaiah's service without thought as to whether or not we would have pictures to remember it by.
My parents had to head back home on Sunday, really - they spent almost more time traveling to get here than they spent here, but I can not thank them enough for making the trip.
These last few days with Aaron back at work have flown. I don't really know where they've gone. I know that there are going to be many emotional battles in the days, weeks, and months ahead.
I will begin teaching again this summer, and was hoping to be able to spend an afternoon a week at the pregnancy center. November will probably be the most difficult, with the elation of Z's birth still pulsing through my veins, my heart will ache on Isaiah's due date more than the others.
I miss him so much already, as I have him pictured as a little boy laughing, running, playing. I can see him jumping off of furniture with a cape and scaring me with snakes and spiders.
Life is full of crazy ups and downs, twists and turns. Heartache and joy mingled into one.
1 week ago I got the muffle fixed but it feels like months ago.
1 week ago I bought maternity clothes and a blue whale sweater in anticipation that Tic Tac would be a boy. It feels like just yesterday.
Today was similar to last Wednesday, marked with perfect blue skies and warm sunshine. Only today I could walk to pick Am up from school, and today my neighbor took my girls to the park with her kids so I could have some time to myself. Last week we all laughed and played together on a blanket under the big maple tree while our 5 year olds put on a play about kitties again. We talked about Rat's miscarriage (their cat) and I made a gesture and said "I feel ya sista" as a joke. Oh how true the next day would make that statement.
Thursday was, well, overwhelming. In every sense of the word. I haven't yet decided if I'll post the details of that awful morning, from the early morning cramps to the very end just a few hours later.
We were so blessed to spend 2 1/2 days with our sweet Isaiah, memorizing him, holding him, counting his fingers and toes - loving him just like we would any other baby. Our time with him was just too short.
A few have asked just how we knew Isaiah was a boy, it was quite obvious when he was born. Although it wouldn't have been visible by ultrasound, there is no doubt about it.
My parents made a quick trip up - I say quick because they left within 1 hr of my mom getting home from work, but the 11 hour trip was certainly not quick for them. But they came - and they mourned with us.
We had a beautiful service on Saturday attended by just us and our parents. It was exactly what we all needed and brought healing full circle. We called Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep, and were blessed by two wonderful volunteer photographers who came out and took pictures of our memorial service. They were truly a gift to us as we were able to experience Isaiah's service without thought as to whether or not we would have pictures to remember it by.
My parents had to head back home on Sunday, really - they spent almost more time traveling to get here than they spent here, but I can not thank them enough for making the trip.
These last few days with Aaron back at work have flown. I don't really know where they've gone. I know that there are going to be many emotional battles in the days, weeks, and months ahead.
I will begin teaching again this summer, and was hoping to be able to spend an afternoon a week at the pregnancy center. November will probably be the most difficult, with the elation of Z's birth still pulsing through my veins, my heart will ache on Isaiah's due date more than the others.
I miss him so much already, as I have him pictured as a little boy laughing, running, playing. I can see him jumping off of furniture with a cape and scaring me with snakes and spiders.
Life is full of crazy ups and downs, twists and turns. Heartache and joy mingled into one.
5.02.2013
Isaiah Michael
I'm sure in the next few days, weeks, and months - as my emotions unravel you will hear much more from me on all of this. Probably every thought, whim, or idea that could possibly seek to provide answers but of course, answers that will really never come this side of eternity.
So, with a heavy heart -
This morning, at 7:50am, on May 2, 2013, I miscarried our son, Isaiah Michael, at 11 weeks 1 day gestation. A beautiful little boy, perfectly formed in every way, will be spending the rest of his days with Jesus and several of his siblings. However, Mommy, Daddy, and big sisters have heavy hearts as we miss our little boy.
Thank you so much for your support, and your prayers over the past few weeks and even as we go through the next few days.
Much love,
Brie
So, with a heavy heart -
This morning, at 7:50am, on May 2, 2013, I miscarried our son, Isaiah Michael, at 11 weeks 1 day gestation. A beautiful little boy, perfectly formed in every way, will be spending the rest of his days with Jesus and several of his siblings. However, Mommy, Daddy, and big sisters have heavy hearts as we miss our little boy.
Thank you so much for your support, and your prayers over the past few weeks and even as we go through the next few days.
Much love,
Brie
4.27.2013
**Stress**
The stress of this pregnancy really weighs on me. In some ways I want to stay busy and forget about it, but in others I'm afraid being busy will only bring on more cramps and more bleeding. So, I sit and I wait - and I go to the bathroom - and I sit and wait some more...
I've had a lot more bleeding today and my mind keeps wondering, will it be tonight? this weekend? or will this just drag out for awhile? will there be a heartbeat at my appointment on Thursday? if not, then what? if so, do I just continue like this - waiting?
Yesterday was so perfect, hardly any spotting at all, hardly any cramping and today, wham. If I didn't know better I'd think I'd gotten my period... again. It's all so un-spectacular.
People keep making comments about the baby's gender, that maybe this one will be a boy. I keep telling my husband that if this baby comes out in November - I don't care what it is! I'll just be happy we got to have it!
I'm sure many of you can relate. I've never enjoyed a first trimester, they were always stressful atleast until 8 weeks, then I would let my guard down and breathe a little easier. But this one, wow, I've never felt so shaken and unsure. There is a whole new meaning and level to leaning on God that I am desperately trying to learn. And oh, it is so very hard.
I keep reminding myself that whatever the outcome of this situation God is still good.
We will survive, God is good.
Baby or no baby, God is good.
God is good.
God is good.
God is good.
I've had a lot more bleeding today and my mind keeps wondering, will it be tonight? this weekend? or will this just drag out for awhile? will there be a heartbeat at my appointment on Thursday? if not, then what? if so, do I just continue like this - waiting?
Yesterday was so perfect, hardly any spotting at all, hardly any cramping and today, wham. If I didn't know better I'd think I'd gotten my period... again. It's all so un-spectacular.
People keep making comments about the baby's gender, that maybe this one will be a boy. I keep telling my husband that if this baby comes out in November - I don't care what it is! I'll just be happy we got to have it!
I'm sure many of you can relate. I've never enjoyed a first trimester, they were always stressful atleast until 8 weeks, then I would let my guard down and breathe a little easier. But this one, wow, I've never felt so shaken and unsure. There is a whole new meaning and level to leaning on God that I am desperately trying to learn. And oh, it is so very hard.
I keep reminding myself that whatever the outcome of this situation God is still good.
We will survive, God is good.
Baby or no baby, God is good.
God is good.
God is good.
God is good.
TMI post - you've been warned.
I'm about to divulge more information than the average person would like to know - so if you're not interested in hearing about my "flow" or "discharge" please, divert your eyes.
At about 10 1/2 weeks pregnant, and beginning to see my own small version of a pop I am starting to get excited and relieved about little one joining our family in November. Yesterday was awesome. Seriously, My husband has been incredibly supportive the last few weeks, encouraging me to take it easy and picking up all the slack around the house.
I had virtually no spotting or cramping yesterday, it was awesome. However, by the time I went to bed at 10 pm I was bleeding again. And this continued most of the night, as I saw every time I was up to use the restroom.
I had horrible dreams all night about miscarriage, c-section, a hysterectomy. Oy, my brain was really running wild with it. And today, my family has ventured to Peoria to visit a family member. I have decided to stay home and really take some R&R and hopefully coax my uterus into being finished bleeding. 1 1/2 weeks until 2nd trimester. I've been hearing a lot that bleeding is common and if baby is fine, often a sign of no problem whatsoever. I'm banking on that, but not taking any chances at the moment.
At about 10 1/2 weeks pregnant, and beginning to see my own small version of a pop I am starting to get excited and relieved about little one joining our family in November. Yesterday was awesome. Seriously, My husband has been incredibly supportive the last few weeks, encouraging me to take it easy and picking up all the slack around the house.
I had virtually no spotting or cramping yesterday, it was awesome. However, by the time I went to bed at 10 pm I was bleeding again. And this continued most of the night, as I saw every time I was up to use the restroom.
I had horrible dreams all night about miscarriage, c-section, a hysterectomy. Oy, my brain was really running wild with it. And today, my family has ventured to Peoria to visit a family member. I have decided to stay home and really take some R&R and hopefully coax my uterus into being finished bleeding. 1 1/2 weeks until 2nd trimester. I've been hearing a lot that bleeding is common and if baby is fine, often a sign of no problem whatsoever. I'm banking on that, but not taking any chances at the moment.
2.25.2012
And its all so confusing....
Yesterday, I had the incredible priveledge of attending the birth of a good friend's baby. It was absolutely amazing. My friend did absolutely amazing.
I arrived home, and read a post from a fellow TTC blogger. Who through this journey, has become what I consider a friend. Yesterday, her fears were confirmed. She was miscarrying her baby, again.
The strangeness of it all.
A life born onto earth, a life born into heaven.
My heart is full of joy for my friend, my heart aches for my friend.
I arrived home, and read a post from a fellow TTC blogger. Who through this journey, has become what I consider a friend. Yesterday, her fears were confirmed. She was miscarrying her baby, again.
The strangeness of it all.
A life born onto earth, a life born into heaven.
My heart is full of joy for my friend, my heart aches for my friend.
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