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

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.  

Amariss found and loved on a baby blue jay yesterday.

Zemirah danced and praised Jesus with me this morning.

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.

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. 

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:

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.  

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.* 

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.

PAIL Blogroll

You may have noticed a new addition to my blog - An adorable little linky over in the sidebar to the PAIL Blogroll. 

What is this Blogroll and what does it mean you ask?  Good question! 
PAIL stands for Pregnancy/Parenting After Infertility and Loss, and a blogroll is a list of LOTS of us who are all in very similar situations. 

The whole reason I started writing The Delicate Balance was because I found myself caught between two worlds - the fertile world, becuase of my daughter, and the infertile world because of our losses and secondary infertility.  If you'd like to read my very first post you can find it here.

This world has gotten a little more muddied in the past 6 months when we found ourselves unexpectedly pregnant 6 weeks after our 6th loss. 

This pregnancy has been interesting as I wonder where I stand with my TTC friends, but yet my heart still aches, yearns for, and desires their companionship because believe it or not - this journey never ends, I still miss my babies. 

I don't know what will happen after baby #2 is delivered.  I don't know if we will once again enter into the TTC world or if our hearts have been so damaged we'll be looking elsewhere to expand our family.  We just don't know. 

But for now - we enjoy our 4 yr old, and all her joy, and we look forward to the arrival of our 2nd miracle, even when it still seems so unreal. 

Please check out the PAIL Blogroll and find other people just like us who find ourselves navigating this oh so confusing road.

It's My Eighth and I'm still Scared...

I originally posted this on my other blog These Things I Know but felt that it would fit here too. 

I have been wanting to write for weeks, maybe months, but I am exhausted. I think of something to write about and 5 minutes later I'm asleep on the couch, the thought completely gone from my brain.

So my hope is that when I start writing, maybe something amazing will just come to me. Something awe-inspiring...something wow.

I'm pregnant, and with that in me comes strange emotions not normally found in my life. Tears, giggles, and rude comments will all come from my mouth within seconds of each other and I feel as if I have no control over it. It's, frankly, a little embarassing sometimes.

Last night was one of those such moments. I went to a meeting that I was thoroughly looking forward to, a group of amazing women that I have the priveledge of surrounding myself with, all talking about childbirth and bringing better childbirth to our community. Right up my alley...I love it!

But last night, I had the giggles. I had recently found out some information that was quite shocking - and frankly - hilarious, and anything anyone said just made me want to laugh at the hilarity of my present situation. So between massive fits of giggles (where my fellow peeps stared at me like I was nuts, because I am a little nuts right now).

It came out among this group to the few who didn't know, that I am pregnant... And for whatever reason last night, I just did not want to acknowledge the fact. I'm very happy that I'm pregnant, it has been a long and very heartbreaking road to get here, but last night I just didn't want to talk about it.

Most of the time I'm very excited about my pregnancy, well, really - all the time - but it still seems so unreal to me. I don't have a belly yet, I don't feel the baby move yet, my sickness is abating, it all seems so foreign now.

A woman asked me if it was my second child and, logically, the answer is yes.

But to me the answer is no.

In the past few months, I've become so connected to those babies that I haven't met, that it breaks my heart to not tell people about them. But it wasn't the place the mention that I had 6 others in heaven that I haven't met yet.

As everyone around me answered for me - yes its her second, and I mumbled, yah its my second.... I thought, "but its not. It's not my second, its my eighth and I'm still scared."

Everything tells me its going to be okay, that I get to meet this one, but can I just tell you that I've been burned, bad. And I'm still scared. I feel it everyday and it irritates me to no end. I can't wait for the day when I know, I just know that its all going to be okay.

I sure hope it comes soon, I pray it comes soon.

thank you for sticking with my random post, sure didn't know it would lead here!

A whole lot of everyone

I've been spending a lot of time in the lab getting my blood drawn lately.  They're running hormone blood work on me.  As I sit there (for what seems forever) I see lots of people come and go. 

There is the man in the Chicago Bears sweatshirt (Go Bears! - I almost told him that too), the older lady; dressed well, the husband and wife couple that didn't sit next to each other (and I was in the middle), the little boy and his mom, a young handicapped girl; younger than Am with her mom and grandmother, the lady with a learning disability who was worried about her doctor's appt at 2:30, the woman hoping to retrieve her husband's x-rays. 

And we all sat, and we all waited. 

All of us waiting for different things. 

Why were we there?  Was it a life or death result?  Was anyone praying for good news? 

As we waited Am sang her favorite song from Tangled, her new favorite movie.  Some people smiled at her, some look at me like I was crazy, most just ignored her.  I thought she was adorable. 

It hit me again, as it often does, that we all are living this world with something. 

Why did the Chicago Bears man need his lab work?  Why was the handicapped woman so worried about her appointment?  Is the little boy healthy? the little girl?  What about the woman all dressed up?  Was she dressed up to make her feel better, because inside she feels so sick?

I've heard so many stories this week of life and death.  Good news, bad news.  A sick mom, a baby lost, a baby gained.  We are all here, and God is working in the midst of it all. 

Mark 2:17 "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick." 

And here we all are, in great need of the great physician.

If You Want Me To - Ginny Owens

I've always loved this song.  It ran through my head tonight and as I sang it I realized, that it's exactly right.

Things may not be the way I would have planned them, but I will go through the valley if He wants me to.

Beauty From Pain - Superchick

I'm sorry I haven't written in a few days.  It's been a rough week for me.  Allergies have me tired, itchy, and not feeling well. 

This song is one that I've listened to over and over since losing our very first baby.  It articulates in so many ways what I've been feeling as we struggle time and time again to expand our family.  It came on during my playlist while driving today, and I realized that once again, this is how I feel.  And I know that it will get better.

Where The Rubber Meets The Road

Yesterday was a hard day.  I had a lot to do in the way of cleaning my house for people coming over and preparing for homeschooling, but I spent most of my afternoon crying and eating, because eating makes me feel better (atleast for a little bit, lol). 

I just read my last post and saw that I wrote "this is where the rubber meets the road, how I do what I do".  Which is exactly, being a childbirth educator, pursuing my doula certification and fight a battle with secondary infertility and recurrent miscarriage. 

The reason I said "where the rubber meets the road" is because I taught a class while pregnant and then another the following week while miscarrying.  I've only taught during a miscarriage once before and it was my first class I ever taught, other than that I've cancelled my class. 

It was really fun for me to teach while pregnant, having never been able to do that before (because my pregnancies haven't lasted that long) I enjoyed talking about anatomy and the birth process while inside being excited about my own birth.  I never share with my classes when I'm pregnant or miscarrying, that's kind of wierd to me.  People usually feel ackward when I mention it and if you throw in there the fact that they're pregnant and I'm not...it makes things more ackward. 

I don't suffer from jealousy of my clients, just a desire to be on this journey with them.  In a way, I am another stop on their journey, but I long for the kinmanship pregnant women share with one another.  Returning to work following a miscarriage is more difficult that actually teaching the class.  Because I work at a pro-life pregnancy center, and the women there are prayer warriors like you've never encountered, I do share with them my pregnancy and ask them to pray.  Delivering the news that I've miscarried is difficult and hard to do for me.  I dread that much more than teaching my class. 

Teaching during a loss is for me, completely exhausting.  My body is already tired from the physical aspect of things, but the emotional aspect is difficult as well.  Pushing my feelings down and talking about a subject I'd rather avoid at the moment wears at me. 

I do wonder what God's plans are for me in all of this.  I know he can bring good from bad and I'm praying he pours it on!  I need to know that there is purpose in this pain. 

So, yesterday was hard becuase I watched a video.  It was a birth story and in it a little girl met her baby sister.  Her mom described her older daughter's reaction as instant love.  And I broke.  My daughter wants to be an older sister, and I know she'd make a great one.  But this is a gift of which she doesn't understand the value.  A gift that only God can give her. 

Someday, someday when she is an older sister and she understands the preciousness of her position she will be able to glorify God in it with us. 

The aftermath - July 14, 2011

For those of you who have wondered why I kept this to myself and didn't tell many people about my pregnancy, here it is.  Sometimes its nice to pretend that everything is perfect in my world, even when I know its not. 

The Aftermath :

It’s way too late.  I spent an hour (or more, I lost track of time) reading nothing on facebook, wondering how in the world other mothers have the time and abilities to accomplish all that they do. 

Exhaustion and frustration are not becoming of me. 

I keep wondering when I can post the story of the past week on my blog, but then I wonder how, so that it makes sense, and why.  My blog is about the delicate balance I walk in life; living my own personal struggle with infertility and miscarriage while working as a birth educator and now doula. 

And here it is, where the rubber meets the road.  Here is where you see it all, the dirt, the part that has always made you wonder how I do what I do. 

So, this crazy last week – I have to post it.  Even though I’m afraid of the comments.  It’s not sympathy I seek.  No, that’s not really me.  No, infact, I wish to handle this privately.  But somehow out there I thought it might be nice if people who ask me all the time “how do I handle my friend’s miscarriage?”  would have a place where they can hear the feelings of one who has been there. 

Not so that tomorrow you can give me an encouraging hug, or one of those looks that says “I’m sad for you”.  But so that someday when you’re faced with something you don’t really understand – you can let your friend know that it’s okay that they don’t know what they need from you, but yet they know that they need you.  And that’s all there is to it.

So, one of these days, I’ll post the story.  All of it – the blog posts, the journal entries, the prayers. 

But today, it’s still private.  I like it that way.

7/14/11 

Goodbye Bunnin - July 13, 2011

written shortly after recieving the phone call from the drs office

I had some cramping and spotting over the last few days. I tried to pass it off as implantation spotting but as my nausea abated and everything else returned to its not pregnant state - I went in for another blood test. It came back this afternoon that my hormone levels had dropped from 49 (on Friday) to 11 today.

So, in essence, my body will probably miscarry this baby in the next day or two once my progesterone shot from this morning wears off.

However, amidst the tears - and frustration, I choose to remember that God can still work a miracle here. He can bring these levels up. And I was encouraged last night when reading in Romans - that my faithlessness does not nullify God's faithfulness.

So, although I close this chapter on this baby's life I know that God may not have that in store at all, and all hope is not lost.

7/13/11

The Update - July 12, 2011

This was written the day before I got blood tests that showed I would be losing the baby.

While I haven’t yet been able to post these last few posts, I’m finding great therapy in writing out what is going on. 

I had a frustrating doctor’s appt. on Fri. in which I believe the exact words she used were “It’s still early so you could either way.”  I’m not sure she meant it to sound so cold but it hurt a little bit of the hope I’d been banking on. 

The weekend was busy and, baby wise, uneventful.  We visited friend and had family come into town for a few days. 

Sunday night I had a sharp “twinge” on my left side and began spotting.  It made me very nervous and left me running for the bathroom often to check if the spotting had gone away, which it did very quickly.  Monday morning I got a call from my doctor/midwife’s office that my hormone levels had doubled from Wed. to Fri (like they’re supposed to) and they wanted me to come in and start progesterone injections.  So my husband and I went in and they showed him how to give those injections at home. 

So here we are today.  I started spotting again midmorning.  I had some mild cramping this morning but nothing major or worrisome, till the spotting started.  So instead of spending my day watching 19 kids and counting with my mother-in-law, I left my daughter with her and came home to calm down my worried self and relax and make as many trips to the bathroom as I want.  

So that is where I’m at right now.   

New Hope - July 9, 2011

This was written Friday, July 9, 2011 - following my dr appt. 

New Hope

I have a lot of things to accomplish today, but unfortunately I’ve spent the last two hours sitting around, doing nothing.  My day is wasting away and all because I can’t rid my mind of today’s unsettling news. 

I’m going to keep the frustrating stuff short, because there have been too many other promises revealed since then.   I went to my Dr. this morning to receive the shot I was expecting.  We arrived at 9am, right on time and sat and waited and waited and waited.  I was surprised we actually got to see our Dr.  being that I was just expecting a shot and had brought along my trusty husband so he could learn how to give it at home.  She went over my HcG results which were pretty low, but I am pregnant.  Because of this, she said I’m in the very early stages and doesn’t want to give me the progesterone shot just yet, she wants to wait and see what happens with my second blood draw levels later this morning. 

I felt….frustrated, like I’d just wasted my morning to get frustrating news that you could have told me over the phone.  That I’d built myself up in excitement, saying “Body, just make it till Friday, Friday you’ll get your shot.”  But that’s not what happened.  It upset me, truly.  Deep down, I felt like I was given little hope. 

But here’s what I know.  That result was from Wed.  today is Friday, things have most definitely changed and progressed.  I have no spotting, and I feel more pregnant.  God is not confined to a blood draw.  So,  I called a few friends, I cried a little, I sent some texts.  I prayed.  They prayed.  I’m so thankful that prayer works. 

I went to lunch with my very dear friend.  When I think about all that we’ve been through together, it brings tears to my eyes.  There is nothing like a friend who has seen it all with you and knows exactly how to love you.  Anyway, she gave me a gift.  And what a sacrifice this gift is, but it’s a reminder to me of my promise.  And a reminder of a friendship that goes beyond what man can see but to a bond that has been formed through the great grace of God.  Few people will understand the significance of this exchange but it will forever be another brick in the building of this friendship.  So thank you, dear friend, for reminding me today that my hope is not in man – but my hope is in the Lord. 

After returning home I was vegging on facebook and I read a post from a friend of my mom’s.  It told the story of a family who, after 3 miscarriages this past year, were given the devastating news through ultrasound that the baby they were carrying had died in the womb.  In a follow up appt today, another ultrasound was done and what the Dr. saw on the screen was a healthy, 10 ½ week baby bouncing around. 

Today is a day I need to surround myself in miracles.  I know the statistics, I know my body.  But that is nothing compared to knowing my Lord.  So, today in the midst of what could take me down – I will be up.  God has not given up on my child and neither will I. 

I just don't want to.

I'm currently pursuing my doula certification and have a few books left on my reading list before I can say "whew, that's done!"  (the reading part... still have a long way to go on the rest)

Doula certification shouldn't be that hard, if I put my mind to it.  But right now, I'm tired.  I'm a little tired of learning about pregnancy.  I just finished up teaching a series of 6 childbirth classes, my sister-in-law just had her baby (one of the final ones in a string of pregnancies surrounding me), I'm still trying to crochet her a baby blanket, we're supposed to start homeschooling next week, the garden is in full tomato madness (and calling for much cooking of tomatoes!), and end of summer activities are taking up soo much time.

So everytime I sit down to read a book about pregnancy, I just think - ugh.. I just don't want to.  Maybe this one is the kicker... maybe I should just pick a different book to read right now.  I started reading this book the same week I found out I was pregnant with Bunnin.  I was really excited to read a book about pregnancy while I was pregnant (it's so much more fun that way).  But now... my motivation to read this book is like staring at a pile of dirty dishes.  It hasn't started to smell yet, so I probably won't read it till it does. 

The book I'd like to read is one on infertility...but my schedule screams at me that I should read the pregnancy book, so instead, I'm not reading at all.  Which is a bummer, because I love reading. 

Ah, miscarriage - how you shake my stable world.  I'm still getting my sea legs on this one. 

See you in heaven, Bunnin

This post has been eating at me for weeks.  I've just been waiting for when is the right time to say goodbye to this baby.  It may seem strange to you that 4 weeks later I'm finally letting go, but that's how it is; a letting go process. 

This is the card my mom sent me shortly after we found out we would be losing Bunnin.  I've never recieved a card more appropriate for what I was feeling.  It was such a relief for me to know that my mom got it.  She understood that even though I was sad, I was still filled with joy because I had hope.  Hope does not dissappoint. 

This is the outfit I bought Bunnin shortly after hearing of his unexpected arrival.  (We don't actually know this baby's gender, we assume boy becuase that's what our intuition says).  We buy each baby an outfit as soon as I learn they are coming.  It's their very own special gift, just for them from us.  This outfit will be packed away in a special box with the others.  

Hello Bunnin, it is so nice to meet you.

Goodbye Bunnin, I wish I could have held you, kissed you, whispered to you, nursed you.  I wish you could have been held by your daddy.  He makes everyone smile and I know you would have loved playing with him.  I wish you could have met Am, she will be the best big sister a little one could know.  Bunnin, I know you are having fun playing with our other babies, your great grandparents, and some cousins.  We will be there soon, we love you. 

I leave you with this, the verse inside the card my mom sent me. 



Loving in Anger

Anyone who says to me that hundreds of years ago women miscarried and never knew it is well... rediculous.  They knew it, they just didn't have a pee stick to prove it. 

Post-pregnancy hormonal changes, although nothing compared to that of a longer pregnancy or fullterm delivery are still much much different than normal PMS.  Atleast for me. 

The past 3 weeks have been one crazy roller coaster and I have to say that today, amidst the cramps and everything else...I'm so thankful to be heading back into my regular cycle and not feeling so irritable and angry all th time. 

Which brings me to this post.  I have been extremely irritable (to put it nicely) for weeks.  weeks.  My poor husband can hardly look at me without me making a horribly rude or snide remark. 

Last Wednesday I mentioned to you that God was really talking to me about loving people, all the way, for real, which during extreme irritability is really hard for me.  And now, post extreme irritability, this is hard to write.  Because I'm not angry, so I'm having a hard time remembering what I was even angry about.  What I do know is that none of this anger was righteous, holy, Godly... nope... just dumb stupid angry.

What wasn't helping was that I had been really withdrawing myself from people, life, and even God during the past few weeks.  I didn't want to anything to do with most people, I just wanted to be regular and I knew that I wasn't, so I hid myself so I could pretend.  But the worst part was that I had even stopped spending time with God, and was starting to ignore talking to him aswell... which doesn't help a girl who needs to control her anger. 

So, When I pictured God's love, I realized that he loves me still - even when I act like this.  He misses me still - even when I act like this.  He wants me still - even when I act like this. 

I started a word study of the word Love in the Bible.  It is helpful to have something to study because when I feel like this my brain has a hard time concentrating and thinking deeply.  The first night, the verse I read was the exact same verse PC had preached on on Wednesday night at youth.  I know that that was no coincidence!

The second study I did was from Exodus 15:13 "By your unfailing love you will lead the people you have redeemed.  In your strength you will guide them to your holy dwelling."

This is so what I needed.  By His unfailing love, HE will lead me to himself.  That is exactly what I needed right then.  In my own strength I couldn't do it, but by his love he will lead me.  It was so liberating, so freeing. 

Not to say that I haven't still been fighting my attitude and my irritibility, but talking to God, listening for his voice, heeding his warnings (and keeping my mouth shut) has helped immensely! 

I know he's not anywhere near done with me, but I'm thankful that I can see this phase coming to an end. 

Loving and Living

I'm just gonna be really real here.  If you haven't noticed yet, the past few weeks have been hard.  I'm usually a joyful and upbeat person and on the outside I mostly have been still... but on the inside I was living a little on the self pity side. 

I really hate pity.  I hate pitying people because I don't want to be pitied.  Thus, I hate it when people pity me.  And when I pity myself, I really hate it.

So, pity has turned to guilt, to frustration, to anger...etc. etc. etc.

Which brings me to here, now, tonight.  As a youth sponsor in our youth group I have the great privilege of being privy to sermons meant for the teenagers.  And as a youth sponsor for 6 yrs now, I would have to say that every Wed. night something speaks directly to me.  And tonight was no different.

For goodness sakes, I'm bad at repeating things I've heard.  But the gist of tonight's message was what will be said about you when you're gone.  Essentially, Am I living the life that God would want me to live?

And all I can think is that these past few weeks I have been so absorbed into myself that I haven't even been loving God. 

So tonight kicks off my mission to love God and in doing that learning to love others, because you can't love God without loving others.  That's the whole of who God is; Love. 

So here is how I loved today: 
After service I bought a candy bar.  My husband asked me for a bite and I gave him... the look.  Then he said "you're supposed to say 'sure honey, I love you".  And my head said "Love!"  So I offered him the whole candy bar, joyfully for real - with a smile on my face.  (thankfully, my extra loving husband only took 1 bite, but I still offered and would not have been upset had he accepted).

I know that that is really small, and really dumb.  But my love meter has been so low...so very low... that I haven't been showing love to anybody.  And that's pathetic. 

John 3:16 (Amplified)
⁶For God so greatly loved and dearly prized the world that He [even] gave up His only begotten (^[a]unique) Son, so that whoever believes in (trusts in, clings to, relies on) Him shall not perish (come to destruction, be lost) but have eternal (everlasting) life.

Now that's something worth living for, someone who would give up his only son so that we could have life forever with him in heaven.