A Year Ago Today

A year ago my husband and I were blindly pulling ourselves through a silent journey of loss.

 A year ago this past Ash Wednesday was the day we found out, after over a decade of infertility, that we were twelve weeks pregnant, and a year ago today, Easter Sunday, is the one year anniversary of the day our daughter was born. She was born sleeping and already in the arms of Jesus. She carried a rare genetic disease, Trisomy 18, and we knew from the very beginning she would never get to come home with us.

It was the exact season of Lent, and the reality of that I’m sure is no coincidence in God’s plan.

I have to admit, I have no idea how to do this mourning and grieving thing. I’ve lost grandparents, who passed away at their beautiful old ages filled with stories memories, and amazing legacies. I have not however lost someone within my own immediate family. I’m left feeling at odds as to how to do this “correctly,” even though I’m fully aware everyone is different and there’s no right or wrong way.

For the last year I have felt this odd sense of not being able to really grieve her, to really honor her memory, because she never had the opportunity to live and breath here on earth, she didn't even make it to a full term pregnancy. There was no birth certificate. There was no death certificate. For some reason I have felt like most don’t really acknowledge her existence because she didn’t get to smile and laugh, run and play, grow and mature, or make a tangible difference in anyone's life while she was here on earth, so maybe I shouldn’t either.

 I feel like I probably shouldn’t talk much about her, I shouldn’t still be losing sleep over her, I shouldn’t have this huge aching hole in my heart over losing her. I certainly should be farther along in my grieving over her.

I'm not wanting anyone's pity.  I’m not angry or upset at anyone, no one has actually said anything to my face asking me not to share about her life, and yet, it’s this quiet but very real, tangible feeling I get.  I often feel like a lot of people just don’t know what to do with it all… how to respond to it all… So they don’t. And maybe that silence is what causes me to feel like I have to remain silent as well.

I want to be able to let go of the guilt that is laced in my tears as I walk through my life right now. I want to openly weep without having to try keep it all together. I want to be openly angry and sad and question God and my faith. I want to openly share her story ~ our Journey to Faith ~ without fearing who will “unfriend” me on social media and who will roll their eyes and walk away, sick of hearing about her.

Of course, this is all merely the story I’ve created in my head, the tale I have woven within my hurting heart, because I don’t actually “know” what others truly think, or even know, about our journey.

We lost her before we even got to have her, and while we don’t grieve the stories, memories, and her physical presence of life on earth, we grieve what she didn’t get to become. I grieve the hope and dream she represented and was taken from us. She was robbed a lifetime of getting to grow and interact in the world around her, and that makes me angry sometimes. The whole world is missing out on being a part of her life and love. She was robbed of the little things like picking dandelions in the lawn, to the bigger things like graduations, getting married, and creating her own family. We were robbed of getting to raise her, love her, and provide for her here on earth while watching her grow.

Our entire marriage my husband and I have wished, prayed, hoped, and dreamed for the opportunity to create life and have a baby, and for whatever reason God chose to not grant us that, until last year. The miracle of her life was far shorter than we wanted, and the magnitude of the representation of that loss is unimaginable.

Yet how do you fight God’s wish to have her for His own in Heaven?! And really, how selfish are we to wish her life on earth, filled with its sickness, sadness, and hurts, when she got chosen right away to get to run on the streets of gold in Heaven?! We know she is healthy and happy and part of whatever plan God has in store though her, but it does not make it any easier for us.

So today we celebrate the tiny life she had, we mourn the abundant life on earth she didn’t get to experience with us, and blindly continue putting one foot in front of the other, as life does not stop or even slow down for any of us as we are left trying to figure it all out.

The clock keeps ticking, the days continue slipping by, and I’m left with this little moment in time that rocked our world beyond anything we imagined we’d be able to endure. But we did, and we are… And I'm going to step out in both fear and trust as I begin to share her story and our journey.

It is my prayer that something good will come out of the something bad that happened in our lives.  

May the life I live, may the life my entire family lives, be an honor to both her and the ultimate plan God has through her life and our loss.

Click HERE to start our Journey To Faith story.

Book Club 3

Today I was attempting to do some cleaning.  I brought some books downstairs, and there on my bookshelf were four of the last Bible Studies I've done!  Please let me share some amazing reads and encourage you to grab a friend (or two or three or more) and dive in to one of these.  Enjoy the read, relish the conversations, and allow God to do His miraculous work that He's got in store for you.

Title: The Best Yes by Lysa Terkeurst
Making wise decisions in the midst of endless demands.

This was the very first book Bible Study that I did with my friend, and I honestly think this is one of the top books that have most impacted my life.  To this day "Is it a Best Yes?" is something I voice out loud to myself and friends multiple times a week. This book gave me the insight I needed to begin a season of slowing down, of implementing true change, of knowing the stakes of soul care. I'm one who has work-a-holic tendencies and who doesn't like to disappoint anyone. I know now that God was preparing me for a journey of sickness and loss.  He was chiseling and changing several areas in my life that would allow me to be able to fully step back and have the time and mindfulness I would need to begin to heal.  This book touches on so many hard points in a women's life, especially ones who have a hard time saying "no" to people and activities.  The guilt and expectations of all those endless requests we are faced with and try balance every day, that drive us to exhaustion and not being able to fully enjoy a Sabbath or hear the whisper of the Lord.  As I flip through the book, I smile as I see all the underlines, stars, and brackets page after page. So many amazing nuggets of hope and freedom for those hoping to regain the chaos of their lives.  This book also has a DVD and Bible Study book that we followed with our weekly reading.  I highly recommend this book, to everyone!

Book Quote:"A woman who lives with the stress of an overwhelmed schedule will often ache with the sadness of an underwhelmed soul." 

Interrupted by Jen Hatmaker
When Jesus wrecks your comfortable Christianity

Oh dear, this was quite a Bible Study as well for me.  As this book sat unopened on my desk and I remember looking at it and thinking - "Ugh, I'm going to probably end up having to get a passport and go to Haiti by the time I get to the end of this book."  I don't have a passport and I've never allowed myself to even entertain the thought of going to Haiti for the mere fact that I was an infertile adoptive mom desperately wanting a baby, and the thought of going to Haiti and seeing all those children, some with families many without and having to see, witness, touch, and then have to leave, would totally "mess me up" - I did not want God to mess me up.  This of course totally meant God was about to completely "interrupt" and "mess me up" during the course of this study. This book isn't about getting a passport and jumping on the next plane to Haiti.  It's about seeing the people across the street from you, in the cubicle next to you at work.  It's about allowing God to whisper, get inside your comfortable, and do His work.  During this study I would find out I was pregnant and our little miracle had a rare genetic disease and would not get to ever go home with us.  My nearly forty-year-old life was rocked, completely interrupted by God's continued wake up call in my life.  This book also has an optional leader guide which we used as we did our weekly reading. Oh - and at the end of every lesson is a "Brandon's Take" - which her husband adds to help wrap and recap.  What an amaze duo they are!

Book Quote: “It is not your responsibility to explain what God is doing with your life. He has not provided enough information to figure it out. Instead, you are asked to turn loose and let God be God. Therein lies the secret to the “peace that transcends understanding.”

Unstoppable by Christine Caine

Running the race you were born to win.

"The divine relay is tough.  The track is treacherous.  There are so many ways to mangle the exchange zones, to overshoot, to be knocked off the track, to drop the baton, to stop running. The church needs champion runners who never give up, who persevere no matter what they encounter, who run to win - unstoppable, no matter the cost."

This was another book we did for Bible Study.  It was an author I was not familiar with and in the book she talked a lot about A21, which is a non-profit that rescues victims of human trafficking around the globe, something I also knew nothing about.  This was an excellent read and I loved how she parallels our lives, our faith, and how we live and leave our legacies with competitive running and training.  I loved how the chapters were divided and how it "runs" you through all the various stages from start to finish, while dealing with all the details and obstacles within our race.

Book Quote: "The point is, God's call comes to each of us in every age and stage of life.  He calls us to step out of our comfort zone and into the exchange zone, ready to run for him and carry the love of God and the truth of his power into the lives of others.  Often, we have no idea what task the Lord will assign us until it is thrust in our hands."

Believing Jesus by Lisa Harper
Are you willing to risk everything? A journey through the book of Acts.

This was another book Bible study I recently finished.  It also has a study guide and DVD available for each lesson as you go through the book. The very first line inside the very first page reads: "Do you find yourself wanting to live a more daring, connected, and belief-fueled life?"  Well, that pretty much caught me hook, line, and sinker.

This book was very well written and incorporats the Biblical book of Acts with the teaching of the Apostles, the ways and truths of authentic discipleship, how to love others well while being well by God, woven with modern day stories, examples, and just the right touch of humor.  Lisa does such a great job capturing "intimidating knowledge in a package that makes you feel like her friend more than her student" as one or her reviewers wrote.  And Lisa Harper is amazing to follow along with on social media as well!

Book quote: "God's grace is available to everybody.  Period.  He is an unconditional, wholly inclusive affection.  There is no skin color, country of origin, or medical condition that can make you incompatible with the love of Jesus Christ!"

Book Club 2

Here are four of the last books I have read, or am in the process of reading...

Title: Twist of Faith by Ridley Barron

One Tragedy shattered his world, one choice freed him to heal.

A friend of mine popped in at work one afternoon and handed me this book. With tears in her eyes told me a little of this mans story -she had just heard him speak at a local event. I took the book home and to be honest, I was very hesitant to even open it. I had no doubt it was a great book and a great story, but sometimes entering into someone else's intensely painful journey is too hard for me, as I still am slowly plowing through my own painful journey. But, two days later, I read the last page and closed the book!

This is the true story of a pastor from Tennessee who was in a car accident with his family, which took the life of his wife, and four days later he would lose their seventeen month old son, due to a horrible hospital error. This is the story of his journey and how he chose to forgive and continue to put his trust and faith in God.

Book quote: “There were many restless nights as my soul continued to wrestle with God.  I couldn't wrap my mind around why this had happened and how it could possibly be part of God's plan.  The nights were filled with thousands and thousands of tears.  My heart would waiver between determined confidence in God and flickers of doubt.  Literally everything I had believed to this point was placed on the table to be examined... questioned... challenged.  I asked God to heal me, fix me, save me, prove Himself to me.  And sometimes I asked Him to leave me alone."

Title: The Blessed Life by Robert Morris

The simple secret of achieving guaranteed financial results.

One day at work I mentioned that we were a little behind financially and I hadn't written our offering check yet that month. I typically write it on the first day of every month. The month before was the first time in years I had waited until about three weeks in, but did finally write it. I was really wanting to skip this month, but feeling bad about it. The gal I mentioned it to told me about the book she had just read and the next day it was laying on my desk. (That's how God works quite often in my world...) To be honest, this was a hard read for me on many levels. It started with the title "Guaranteed Financial Results" - call me hard and jaded, but sorry folks, there is no such thing as "Guaranteed Financial Results" in my book of life... As I read I felt the author came off very arrogant, very black and white, and it was all about God telling him to do something, he learned the I.O. Principal (Instant Obedience Principal), he would give, and he would immediately get the money back ten-fold. I was left feeling guilty for not always tithing and giving consistent above-and-beyond financial gifts away. I thought I was making a very conscious attempt to give generously, but I have never had it returned to me ten-fold instantly after obeying. Am I not giving enough? Am I not giving with the right state of my heart? Am I not trusting God's provision enough? Don't get me wrong, I totally got the heart of this book and the authors intent and message, it just left me feeling emotional on many levels, which I'm assuming means God is at work inside me :-). And in lots of conversations about it throughout the read, I know it isn't just about the physical dollars / money going out and coming in... Some of it is the long term blessing and long term financial increase and gain that isn't a black and white tangible line in your check register right now. I did get the calculator out and really look at the percentage of what we give, making some slight changes - since both of our jobs have changed over the last year, and I'm trying to be more attentive to the I.O. Principal, and trying to give more freely and without so many questions and double checking what we currently have available in the checkbook. Finances are an area I do personally struggle with, giving of our physical financial resources is often hard for me. I feel that need for the "cushion" the "ER cash envelope" just in case (no I'm not a huge Dave Ramsey fan, I read a book of his once and just cried because we had no money and we were already doing nearly everything he was instructing people to do to get out of their debt, I was left feeling so helpless - but I do think he overall has a lot of good general spending / saving principals {that's another post another day}). I'm a big saver while my husband is a big spender, so we have struggled since day one in our marriage when it comes to money. It will be interesting to see what God has up His sleeve for us through this book!

Book quote: "We often go through trials, tests, and tribulations that are almost unbearable while we continue to be faithful to the Lord. However, we must recognize that everything we have belongs to God, and we are merely the stewards. It's pretty easy to place what belongs to somebody else in the proper areas. If, however we have the attitude of the rich fool and try to guard it, hoard it, protect it, keep it and think only of ourselves, we haven't for one moment identified with the heard of God."

Radical Hospitality by Lonni Collins Pratt with Father Daniel Homan
Benedict's way of Love 

This book was written it to help clarify what true "hospitality" is and give a window into the lives of monks and their ancient practice of fully welcoming and connecting with others, using the "Benedictine path of hospitably" as the model. (The "Rule of St Benedict" is is a document written fifteen centuries ago giving basic direction to help monks live and grow toward Christ while living together like a large family, with hospitality as the center.) We are reading it together at work and have found it to be a very fascinating read, underlining so many different areas. I'm also sharing the book with someone else, and I am enjoying seeing her notes and highlights as we read through it. It's always so neat to see how different people are affected and grabbed by the same truths, quotes, comparisons, and lessons differently. The conversations around the table are sometimes lively and enlightening, other time there's the quiet weight of this often hard reality of being openly kind and welcoming to the marginalized, forgotten, and misunderstood around us. It's about the need to open up, be authentic and transparent, taking risk, embracing the uncomfortable, overcoming the fear, accepting the messy, and just living and loving everyone well.

Book quote: "Hospitality is not optional to a well-balanced and healthy life.  It meets the most basic need of the human being to be known and to know others.  It addresses the core lonliness that we avoid with the bustle and haste of our hectic lives. There's a big loneliness at the center of every person. It is universal.  There's a reason for the loneliness.  It is meant to lead you somewhere.  Even if you are unconscious of it, the big lonely is driving you homeward."

Title: The Zack Files series by Dan Greenburg

 I read with our seven-year-old every day, usually in the morning and before bed. Sometimes he reads to me, sometimes I read to him, sometimes we take turns. I have to make work of getting the books lined up for him to read because we have a reading program in school where they have to read certain books and take online tests on them to earn points. While I think in theory it's a great program, I also am frustrated that only certain books count and others don't, completely putting a damper on any kind of "pleasure reading." My rule unfortunately is, if it's not a Reading Counts book, we aren't going to read it. We just don't have enough time in the day to spend reading anything that doesn't "count." Last year my son and I went through all the Clifford books, all the Arthur books, all the Curious George books. This year we've moved up to chapter books and we've gone through all the Junie B Jones books, the Big Nate books, and we were getting through some of the Judy Moody books, but truthfully, I couldn't do another Judy Moody book, so I went in search of something new and found The Zack Files. We are currently reading the last one I think - so we've gone through about twenty of these books in the last few weeks. They're a fairly quick read, a picture to look at every-other chapter or so and my son seems to like them. They're a little "out there" and the very first book we read was about reincarnation, so we had to have a little talk about what that was and that it isn't something real or what we believe in. There's been other things like that in each book, but it hasn't seemed to cause any major conversation issues yet. I'm not sure if this is a series I would recommend or not, but if you have a mid elementary boy who won't over-analyze things and needs some Reading Counts points... pick one up and check it out.

What's up next on my reading list? The Five Love Languages of Children and The First Born Advantage...

To The Specialty Clinic {Part 2}

{Missed the previous posts of our Journey to Faith story? start HERE }

~~~ Flashback Post ~~~
To The Specialty Clinic {Part 2} (Feb 17, 2015)

{Missed Specialty Clinic Part 1? click HERE}

She put the warm jelly on my stomach, put the wand down, and immediately the black screen came to life.  It was a picture that looked just like all those other coveted (and hated) ultrasound photos that are plastered all over social media with their announcements, updates, and hundreds of “likes” and “congratulations” comments...

While I was still frantically watching for a heartbeat, my husband suddenly leaded forward, pointed, and exclaimed “Oh, it just moved!”

Alive – still alive!  He had been able to witness his own biological flesh and blood alive and moving!  I sucked in a deep breath, put my hand over my forehead, then pressed it down firmly between my chest, attempting to keep my shaking and crying under control.  I squeezed his hand with a crazymans grip as we watched her go through all the motions and clicks and measurements.  And then she switched from 3D to 4D imagery and it was so real.  We couldn't take our eyes off the screen.  We couldn't take the smiles off our faces.  We had waited so long for this moment. It maybe wasn't "ideal" ~ but it WAS real!

She was trying to get a measurement of the fluid on the back of the neck and head area, but wasn't able to, so she had stopped, turned on the light, asking me to get up and walk around for a little bit, hoping the baby would change positions.  There were photos that had been printing out of the machine that we peeked at after she left the room… it was such a crazy time of mixed emotions.

The doctor walked in and introduced himself. We sat down together, and he sat down on the short round chair on wheels in front of us and started talking.  He said he had seen enough of the ultrasound so far to know that there was a definite issue with the baby.  He explained that a small collection of the fluid at the back of the head was usually a sign of multiple things.  A measurement of 2-3 was serious, a 4-5 was very serious… and our baby was at a 7-10.  Our smiles and excitement instantly gone. We sat very quiet and very still.

He started talking about the test options we had, he started talking about the possible conditions it might be, we again heard "high risk pregnancy" and "possible miscarriage".  He had mentioned more than once a chromosome sex condition called Turner Syndrome, and my brain, in all it’s naivety, was suddenly trying to grasp having a child that would be neither male nor female… As he continued to talk I finally interrupted him and asked him to clarify… He backtracked and explained that it is a rare condition that only effects the Y chromosome of girls.  Girls born with Turner Syndrome are very short, infertile, but could go on to have a fairly normal life.  They could go to college, get married, and have normal brain function.  The hardest part was carrying them to term, they often passed away sometime in the third trimester.

I quickly decided I could deal with Turner Syndrome.

He had also mentioned Down Syndrome and a few others that he said they rarely see, and again the conversation was back to our testing options.  We could do a basic genetic blood test, we could have a CVS test (a Chorionic Villus Sampling test which is similar to amniocentesis but for the earlier first twelve week period during a pregnancy) or we could wait until fifteen weeks and have an amniocentesis.  He was going over the increased risk of miscarriage during the both the CVS and amniocentesis procedures.  The risk was low, but still something we needed to take into consideration.

I was put back on the ultrasound table and he moved the wand around and poked on my stomach…  They were asking so many questions and everything needed an immediate answer. We finally asked for a few minutes alone to talk.  My initial gut had wanted to wait for the amnio, but we decided to just go ahead with the CVS test that day since we really didn’t want to have to wait another three weeks… The doctor came in, we told him our decision, and they began preparing the paperwork and needed equipment.  For a few minutes I laid on the table, looking up at the ceiling tiles, desperately wanting to pray, but I had no words.  I only had tears. So many tears.  The procedure frightened me and I felt so unsettled.

A nurse came back in with paperwork to sign and asked if we were feeling any pressure to have the test done. We had said we weren’t.  The Genetic Counselor came in to talk to us about the actual procedure and the time frame of the results.  The insurance lady came in talked about the pre-approval for the procedure and wondered if we had a different insurance card, because the card on record was one from three years prior and they had denied the pre-approval.  All things insurance makes me fall apart.  My husband handed her our brand new card, to the brand new insurance plan we'd been on for less than three weeks. Suddenly a myriad of insurance fears raced through my mind, as I had in fact been pregnant before starting this new insurance plan and the words "pre-existing condition" screamed inside my head.  Before I could let that panic set in, the nurse was back with a tray full of instruments needed for procedure.  In and out, in and out.  Alone... and then people in the room.  Alone... and then people in the room.

The Genetic Counselor came in again. She sat down and told us the doctor had wanted her to come talk with us while we were waiting and discuss the basic genetic blood work option.  The test with absolutely zero risk to increase miscarriage, the test we basically had forgotten about amid all our discussion whether to do the CVS test that day or to wait for the amnio.  Suddenly a light kind of dawned and we backtracked a little.  The signed CVS consent paperwork was in my hand.  We asked if it was too late to change our our mind, and just do the blood work test instead.  Before I could take a breath, the nurse, the counselor, and the doctor were all in and they were talking and expressing that was a good choice, that I maybe was really already past the point for the CVS test to even be totally accurate. We just felt like they had wanted us to change our mind, but had not been at all pushy or intrusive. I backed up our decision to change, and felt an incredible weight lift.

They threw the paperwork away and they started filling out new paperwork to order the genetic blood test. Suddenly I stopped amid the commotion and asked the initial burning question – What about my bleeding?  My three months of bleeding?  What about the hormone numbers that didn’t double from my blood work test at our local clinic?

The doctor calmly told us that sometimes bleeding is“normal” for some women…  While yes I was at a huge risk of miscarriage, after the ultrasound, he did not believe I was currently in the middle of a miscarriage.  As for my hormone levels, he replied that some women don’t ever get to the level I was currently at…  Apparently the initial increase occurs very early on in a pregnancy.  By twelve weeks, the uterus and baby's hormones take over and start producing what they need.  Oh my gosh, all that worrying over those hormone levels and miscarriage those previous days were apparently not of any real concern from this doctors view.

What an emotional roller coaster.   Absolute roller coaster.

The doctor ended the appointment requesting I continue with very light duty (almost bed rest), not to lift over fifteen pounds, not travel far from a hospital, and no sex.  I asked what I could take to help me sleep (I was desperate for sleep!), and they wrote a prescription for a sleeping pill.  The Genetic Counselor had our lab paperwork and walked us down for the blood draw.  We set up a followup appointment for three weeks later, when we would in fact have the amino done, as a followup confirmation to whatever we found out from the blood work.

We went down to the second floor waiting room. A lady with very fake French manicured nails took my blood – three very large viles full.  She was probably the least chatty or friendly person we had encountered the entire day.  The viles were placed in a small square box, in little foam cutout areas that were laser cut specifically for each vile.  The box would soon be in route to a special lab in California.

We left the building, pulled onto the road to travel away from the hospital, and I couldn’t help but breath in deep, oddly enough I almost felt like a weight had been lifted, despite not leaving with good news overall.  I asked my husband how he felt, and he had reflected the same feeling.  This was anything but ideal, but we knew we were exactly where we needed to be, with what appeared to be an amazing nursing staff and doctor.

We pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant and went in holding hands.  We talked, and smiled, and ordered.  We enjoyed our food and carried a million thoughts each, but only voiced about fifty.  We returned home and there was only a few minutes to type up a quick update to the few who knew before having to pick up our 1^st grader from daycare and head over to his basketball practice.

We wiped our tears, and we put on our “everything is great” face...

But we knew everything was far from great.

Click HERE to continue to our next journal entry. 

To The Specialty Clinic {Part 1}

{Missed the previous posts of our Journey to Faith story? start HERE }

~~~ Flashback Post ~~~
To The Specialty Clinic {Part 1} (Feb 17, 2015)

The morning of our first appointment with the specialist we dropped our first grader off at school and headed out of town.  It was bitterly cold and windy, and we had an hour and a half drive ahead of us.  We had no idea what to expect or what to think.  We were quiet much of the trip, aside from my phone receiving several messages of encouragement and prayers.

We walked into the doors and I immediately remembered this was exactly where we’d been nine years earlier.  Just off to the left, inside the main door, was the door into the Fertility Specialty area.  We had journeyed through many trips, many appointments, many conversations, many decisions during that time.  They had never actually been able to give us a black and white answer to why we couldn't get pregnant, they also hadn’t been able to successfully help us achieve a pregnancy either.  We had finally ended up walking out those doors and into the doors of our local adoption agency.  Two and a half years later we would welcome a baby boy into our family via adoption.

It was all a little surreal to be back nearly a decade later. This time I was nearly forty and actually pregnant.

That day we took the elevator up to the forth floor – to the "Women’s Pelvic Heath" floor.  We walked through another set of glass doors and checked in.   As we walked over to the waiting area, the tears began to fall, an emotional overflowing.  There were boxes of tissues all over the place and my husband commented it was evident we were in a women’s health area because they knew to have tissues out everywhere.  He wasn’t making fun of me, just an observation as he handed me a box.

We were called and we took a seat in a tiny little office. The nurse was bubbly, chatty, smiling and just bustling all over.  Once again we went though all my general history of past pregnancies, past surgeries, and current state of my health.  She just smiled as we talked about our age and our general history of infertility.  Her kindness and enthusiasm help set a lighter tone, and laughter escaped us more than once.

We were then brought back to have our appointment with a Genetic Counselor. To be honest we actually had no idea what to expect or what roll this person even played in everything going on, but we followed and went where ever they brought us to next. As we sat in her office, she got right to the point and started asking family history questions, giving general information, and diving right in to some of the more “Advanced Age Pregnancy” type issues, questions, and testing options… I’m quite sure we both were complete “deer in the headlights” as we sat numbly in the chairs across from her. 

Suddenly my husband just put up his hand and said, “Wait up just a minute.  We need to take a step back here.  My wife has not been feeling well for a while and we were afraid she was going to have some sort of uterine cancer or something along that line. We just found a few days ago that she is pregnant… twelve weeks pregnant… after over a decade of infertility.  The day after we found out, we were told the ultrasound showed possible health issues and we were immediately sent here.  We are beyond ecstatic to be pregnant, but we have no idea what is going on, we are still in shock, and just trying to grasp this reality."  Oh bless his heart!

The Genetic Counselor, in all her caring wonderfulness, stopped everything right there, took a deep breath, and thanked him for letting her know that information.  She said that we did not need to talk about anything more right then, we just needed to get in, have the ultrasound and see how the baby was doing.  After that, we would meet with her again and go from there.

They brought us to the ultrasound room and explained what was going to happen.  My husband took a seat on the tiny little bench in the corner and I sat on the table next to the big machine.  A large flat screen tv hung above us, front and center for everyone to see.  Soon an ultrasound tech came in, laid me back, and turned off the lights.  As she raised up the table my heart was racing, beating wildly in my neck.  I could hear ringing in my ears and my stomach began to shake.  I put my arm out and squeezed my husbands hand desperately trying to just keep myself together.

All I had been hoping for in that moment was that the baby was still going to be alive.  I willed God to grant that little tiny heartbeat to flutter, those little arms and legs to move on that screen so my husband could see, hear, experience a tiny piece of his very own flesh and blood.  We may have two children, but neither are biologically his... and while the "biology" of it all really doesn't matter, and the love we hold for our children are both equal, there is something sacred about ones own absolute flesh and blood, created merely from love and unbelievable crazy luck.

I had no idea what would happen if the baby was already gone...

Click HERE to continue to our next journal entry.

A Ruined Valentine's

{Missed the previous posts of our Journey to Faith story? start HERE }

~~~ Flashback Post ~~~
A Ruined Valentine's (Feb 16, 2015)

That weekend was my husbands work Christmas party, which they were finally getting around to celebrating the night before Valentine's Day.  Earlier we had made plans to stay overnight at a nice hotel after the party.

The specialty clinic finally called and we are going to have to wait almost a week before we can be seen. So we are left to sit and wait. Needless to say, we are not in any mindset to celebrate anything, but we decided to still keep our hotel reservation.

I haven't slept in days, I'm still bleeding, I'm physically still feeling awful, and I have no desire to eat - food just doesn't taste good anymore, and hasn't for some time.  I've started some new hormone shots that my husband has to give me, which leave my hips so sore I can hardly walk.  We are filled with worry, filled with crazy scenarios playing out as the unknowns swirl and whirl and weave total chaos within, and we are hardly talking to each other.  So much to say, with really no words to express them with.

The drain in our basement backed up (again!) before we'd left town... and my parents came over to try help open it and clean up the aftermath.  I had initially been down trying to help, but the smell had left me unable to keep my cookies down, so I was not able to continue to help.  Amid the crazy we told my parents what was going on.  We also decided we aren't going to tell our youngest son yet.  Not that we don't want him to know, it's that we know he won't understand exactly what's going on and he also won't understand not being able to tell anyone, and it will be public knowledge immediately, skewed public knowledge.  People will hear "pregnant" but not the rest of the story. That is what we fear most and do not want to have to deal with yet.

In hindsight choosing not to tell him was probably not the best decision, but at the time it's what we felt was right.

Somehow we made it though a very uneventful and basically ruined Valentine's weekend and I found myself back at the clinic lab to get blood work done to recheck my hormone levels.  I sat in the waiting room, overtaken with emotion.  They called my name and I wept through the entire blood draw.  There is so much on the line, and I have absolutely no control what is going on inside me.

When the nurse called later that morning with the results, she simply stated that the numbers have gone up a little, but not the double or tripling that they'd hoped for.  I numbly continued through another day, laid wide awake another night, and early the next morning we were on the road finally headed to our appointment at the specialty clinic.

It would be a crazy roller coaster day of emotions and decisions.

Click HERE to continue to our next journal entry.

Reality Check

Today was a 70º March day, the sun shining outside and slowly starting to thaw the once frozen winter ground... A tiny part of my soul was warmed... encouraging me to turn to the page to our next journal entry from a year ago, with its whisper to continue sharing more of our story we've called our Journey to Faith...

~~~ Flashback Post ~~~
Reality Check (February 11, 2015)

Early the following morning the doctor himself called me on my cell phone and asked to have my husband and I come in as soon as possible. You know it's serious when the doctor himself dials your number.

Brian picked me up from work and we drove in silence to the clinic.

We checked in and were nearly immediately ushered back to a room.  I breathed in and out slowly and fully trying to keep myself collected while staring down at my hands.  A quiet voice beside me simply said "You know, if it's a girl, we're going to have to call her Faith.  That's what it's going to take {referencing our Christian faith} to get us through this.  Faith MaryJo."  My mother's name is Mary.  My husbands mother's name is Jo.  I couldn't think of a more perfect name.  I stated what I wanted the name to be if it was a boy, a name that meant "At the Cross," with my fathers name as the middle name.  We smiled through our tears.  Whether girl or boy, in less than two minutes we'd agreed on names ~ both rich with Biblical meaning and family history.

The doctor walked in then, sat down, looked at us and went right to the details.  We were told that the ultrasound showed there was a pocket of fluid on the back of the head and neck area of the baby.  It could mean three basic things: 1- it could actually be nothing  2- it could be a genetic abnormality, such as Trisomy 21 (also known as Down Syndrome) or 3- it could be a sign of a heart defect.  He was fearing with my history and the fact that I'd been bleeding for the last three months that I was probably in the stages of a miscarriage.  Due to my "advanced maternal age" and the immediate issues showing on the ultrasound, he wanted us to get in to the specialty clinic as soon as possible.  He ordered some more blood work to check hormone levels and wanted me to come back three days later to check them again (if certain hormone levels showed a double or triple increase that would be a sign my body was still trying to carry the pregnancy, no increase or drop in numbers would indicate my body trying to end or miscarry the pregnancy).

We left the clinic officially still "pregnant", but we did not get to experience even one "Congratulations!" Not one packet of information or book on prenatal care was offered to us.  All we carried out was a little business card with a doctors name we'd never heard of and an address to a clinic an hour and a half away.  We were told we'd get a call when they knew the date and time we were to arrive.

We drove back to my work.  We gathered everyone at the large staff table, a table usually filled with laughter, inner-office banter and jokes, along with deep prayer and serious conversations about growing God's Kingdom... one of my happiest and "safest" places to gather.  That day my husband and I looked at the faces of my co-workers, all dear dear friends, and choked out the reality of the few details we had just been given.  We cried.  We prayed.  We were surrounded by love and support.

Without already fully "knowing," I think my husband and I deep inside already just "knew."  We maybe didn't know the extent of how hard the road ahead of us was going to be, but we "knew" we were on the first steps of a journey of loss we didn't ask to be on.

Our faith, our trust, and our belief that "God is good, all the time" would soon be rocked to the very core, testing us beyond anything either of us had ever experienced before.

 { Click HERE to continue to our next journal entry. }
{ previous post HERE }

Forty and Falling Apart {Part 2}

For many reasons, we chose to journey silently through the majority of the pregnancy.  We knew how it was going to end right from the start.  And at the age of forty, with the infertility history we had... where in the world do you even begin to try explain something like this to the general public...

It's been a few days since I first opened that first journal entry from the start of our "Journey To Faith" a year ago.  I'd only made it a short way in before having to close it.  I know how the story ends, I couldn't bring myself to relive all those details one more time.

But, for some reason, I'm feeling compelled to continue...  as most don't know the details within those journal pages.

 Missed the previous posts and start of our story? click HERE 

~~~Flashback Post~~~
Forty and Falling Apart (February 10, 2015) Part 2
 

"Is it... alive?" I very quietly whispered, both hands clutching my heart.   How in the ever lovin' world could there be a baby in there ~ and if there was it was surely not alive...

The tech moved the ultrasound wand from left to right, clicking, typing, measuring... my eyes glued to the screen up on the wall, my heart beating with a near defining pounding inside my ears and chest.

And then the baby moved on the screen, a little heartbeat clearly visible, its little hands clasped together in front of its chest.   My mind was racing with shock, awe, excitement, fear, unbelief, and every other possible emotion in between. I had a senior graduating from high school soon, I had been unable to get pregnant for the past seventeen years, I had JUST had a mammogram (which apparently you were NOT supposed to have if you were pregnant). I was turning forty next month for heaven’s sake! 

I can only imagine what I looked and sounded like during that appointment.

At the end of the appointment she said it looked like we were at the start of my second trimester. Second trimester?!? How could this even be ~ how possibly could I be twelve weeks pregnant?!? Yes, I had been feeling utterly horrible, but I had also been dealing with daily heavy, clotted bleeding for the last three months straight.  Never once had the thought of possibly being pregnant even entered my mind!!!

She went to look for the doctor to let him know this "change in events", but he was not in.  She then handed me a disc of images and said to call in the morning to make a followup appointment.

I looked down at the disc in my hand, full of photos... I'd brought two babies home from the hospital (one biological, one adopted) and never had access to either one of their ultrasound photos.  Now, all we would have would be the ultrasound photos, as this baby ~ we would never get to take home. The irony of this reality never fails to elude me.

I blindly walked out an emotional mess.  I had no idea how I was going to tell my husband.  We had dreamed of this moment for years. I had thought of so many ways to share the big news with him over the years, but I’d never had an opportunity to pick from any.  I finally collected myself, as I sat in the van in the hospital parking lot, and called him.  I just blurted it all out, over the phone, through my uncontrolled sobbing.

There was utter silence from the other end... utter silence... for a very long time. My heart was again racing and I feared the worse from his silent reaction.  He was merely just processing it all.  This was not exactly the fearful cancer or possible hysterectomy conversation we thought we might hear and had been trying to prepare for.

I don’t actually think either one of us quite knew if this news was any better though, as the underlying reality screamed "How can this even be... I've had so much heavy bleeding for the last three months straight... surely we're in the middle of a miscarriage..."

 I don’t remember much of the rest of that day, but I know neither of us slept at all that night.

For a tiny moment, through a highly guarded grip of fear, I had about an eighteen hour window between ultrasound appointment and the doctors appointment the following morning that I allowed myself to maybe hope with the smallest sliver of excitement.

Eighteen hours I wish I'd never been given...

{Click HERE to continue to our next journal entry.}
{previous post HERE}

Forty and Falling Apart {Part 1}

For many reasons, we chose to journey silently through the majority of the pregnancy. We knew how it was going to end right from the start.  And at the age of forty, with the infertility history we had... where in the world do you even begin to try explain something like this to the general public...

~~~Flashback Post~~~

Forty and Falling Apart (Feb 10, 2015)

I checked in for my mammogram appointment yesterday and was immediately brought back to their waiting room. I’d been there three years before. I already knew from that previous visit that it was a shared waiting room with the ultrasound appointments. I took a deep breath knowing I was going to be waiting in a room next to swollen bellies and excited expectant parents. That was that one desire within I most wanted God to grant us, and He never had. I also knew I would soon be having to enter the ultrasound room myself, and it left a heaviness of failure inside my still empty womb.

I’d had my first mammogram three years earlier, at 36, due to my families somewhat high risk of breast cancer. The first time I’d gone in, the first question I had been asked was if I was currently pregnant. I had looked at her and said, “I don’t think so…” She had stopped her typing and looked up to clarify. I explained we were currently doctoring for infertility, so I didn’t know “for sure” that I wasn’t pregnant, but it was highly unlikely. She had stopped the appointment immediately and made me reschedule to a date when I would know “for sure”… I returned a few weeks later, after yet another full cycle, guaranteeing I was not pregnant.

I took my seat and began reading my book ("Interupted" by Jen Hatmaker) and soon I was called in to the mammogram room, and within a few minutes I had quickly breezed through the precursory questions, and laughed with the tech about turning forty and starting to fall part (I had not been feeling well for the past three months and it was taking its toll on me.)… Soon I was standing, my little cape tied to the front, waiting for the manhandling to begin. The whole thing was much more painful than I had remembered it being before.

I returned to the waiting area and a few minutes later the ultrasound tech called my name and I slowly followed her down the hall and through a door. There in the middle of the room was a little table, next to a large machine, with a large tv on the wall. The room was dim, and I was directed to sit on the table and she began asking questions of past pregnancies, births and surgeries. I found myself wanting to cry, my mind filled with so many negative and painful memories.

I had had a horrible experience at my ultrasound with my oldest son (eighteen years earlier). The technician had a horrible bedside manner and I had left the appointment after not being able to see the screen and was not given any photos. I had another emergency ultrasound about a week before he was born due to spotting. Same guy, same grumpiness, still hadn't been able to see the screen, and wasn't given any photos. The next ultrasound I had was about a year later when I was informed my twelve week pregnancy had apparently ended several weeks early. There was no heartbeat and the baby only measured about nine weeks. The doctor had meet us in a small waiting room a short time later saying he was sorry for our news and he was going to send us home, hoping it would pass naturally.

It did not pass naturally, and I began to hemorrhage several days later. I nearly bled out on an emergency room table. The rest of the details are too hard for me to write about.

I had never been able to get pregnant again, my marriage ended in divorce, and I re-married. We found ourselves unable to get pregnant, to no surprise, and soon we were pushing open the doors at a fertility specialty clinic an hour and a half away. We doctored and doctored, returning month after month for special ultrasounds to monitor my eggs and ovaries. One appointment, after another failed attempted, I was told I had developed a very large cyst on one of my ovaries, and I would need to go on birth control for a few months to try and correct it. My regular doctor had been out that day, and a woman doctor had delivered the news. She had also briefly mentioned she had adopted her children. I refused to go on birth control while in the middle of paying a high premium for our “fertility treatments.” It was perhaps a sign ~ if this "fertility specialist" wasn’t able to achieve pregnancy herself, then perhaps it was time for us to just be done. I walked out the door, and the very next day we entered the doors of a local adoption agency, and began the lengthy journey of adoption.

All of those memories and pain triggers quickly flashed before me as I sat there, and I again found myself holding back tears. I had wanted to tell the tech I needed a minute to gather myself as I was feeling overwhelmed, but I never did.  I remained silent. She finished up her paperwork, clarifying the intent of the appointment was to find out why I’d been bleeding daily for the last three months, and turned down the lights. She had me lay back, squirted the warm gel on my stomach, and placed the instrument on my skin. She immediately pulled it back up with an “Ohhh.”

I jerked my head to the left, looking at the tv, then back to the right over at her, and she put it back down and simply said “Well, there’s a baby in there....”

{continue to next post, "Forty and Falling Apart Part 2" HERE }
{previous post HERE}