Always Enough

A little while back, a friend said to me that she thought it was fitting that I shared our pregnancy news through my blog.  “How come?” I asked.  The gist of what she shared was that the blog had documented so much of our journey and this baby is a continuation of the same journey, so it seemed only right to tell the story behind this baby coming to be.

“You get me,”  I told her.  Because she was so right and that is exactly why it did not feel right to just announce it on social media.  Even for just my own memory, it felt important to document how we got here.

Somewhere along the way, these past six years have become less about having a baby and more about who I believe God is and how much I trust Him.  God used my desire to have a baby and the pain and loss that came out of that to show me more of Himself and to allow me to experience more of Him in real and tender ways.

He’s still doing that.

This baby’s life is a tangible marker of the work God has done in me these years.  And though I’ve no idea what the outcome will be, I trust Him.

I know this baby’s life can end at anytime because sometimes stepping out in faith still ends in losing and dying.  Sometimes it still means your heart is crushed and your hope crumbles...momentarily.

Maybe it’s because I’ve lost so much that I fear it less.  

I know what it’s like to to see and hold death; to walk in the day but feel consumed by the dark; to feel out of control and consumed by grief, jealousy, anger, you name it; to wonder if you’ll be okay and will make it another day; to loathe laughter and celebrations; and hardest of all, to wonder if there is a God who sees you.

I know these things intimately well and yet I can tell you with a sincere heart that losing and dying are actually all counted as gain. 

It doesn’t mean that our pain is any less painful, or our longing any less agonizing.  It just means that the pain and loss we experience on this side of heaven are not the end of us or what He’s doing in and around us.

After all our losses, I know something for certain: we can only see the page that we are on in the story of our lives.  But God- in His supreme wisdom, never-ending love for us- knows the whole book because He is the Author of our lives.  And He is an Author to be trusted.

My book is still turning pages and though I’d like nothing more than to skip ahead to the next chapter to see how this will turn out, I trust Him.  And that is enough.  

Somehow, it’s always enough.

The Way We Mend

I can recall two times in the last year that I very clearly heard God’s voice.  Both times I was in crowded places, panning the room.  Both times I saw a mother with an infant.  And both times, God said “I’m not done yet.”

I tucked those moments away in my heart.  I knew that Jason wanted to try again for another baby and it seemed the logical time to start trying again, but I didn’t feel ready to start this journey again. 

Several months ago I began feeling anxiety and fear at the thought of being pregnant again.  I felt certain I had some level of PTSD because I’d break out in a sweat and have heart palpitations just thinking about it.  And if I heard about someone having a miscarriage, I’d experience their loss as if it was my own.

I felt gripped by fear and too afraid to move forward.  Staying put was what felt safe.

I spoke to Jason and several friends about this and finally decided to see my counselor.  In the back drop of the time that passed were the words God said to me, which propelled me forward, willing to enter the dark places of my heart and mind again in pursuit of overcoming this crippling fear.

As I kept considering what God said to me- “I’m not done yet”- I didn’t believe He was promising us another baby.  I believe He was foretelling the work He still wanted to do in me, knowing that if I was going to get to that place of trying again, it was going to be an act of obedience and a step of faith on my part in response to the heart work He wanted to do in me.  

I believe He wanted to do some mending.

Sometime in May I felt ready as I ever would be to try for another baby and in June we found out I was pregnant.  God acted fast!

Shortly after finding out our news, we went in for an early ultrasound to see if things were progressing and much to our delight we saw a heartbeat.  We went back two weeks later for another ultrasound and while we did still see a heartbeat, it appeared our baby only grew a week in those two weeks.

Our hearts sank a little and the midwife told us to be cautiously optimistic and to come back in a week to see if anything changed....for the better or for worse.

I did what anyone would do- I researched reasons why slow growth like that could happen and there were plenty of benign reasons, but there were also fatal ones.

I often thought about what would happen and would play out each scenario in my mind in lame attempts to prepare my heart for what would seem likely to happen based on my history.

More than anything, I prayed.  I did not plea or beg for this baby’s life.  I did not make bargains with God.  I just told Him over and over that I trusted the outcome of this baby’s life to Him; that I knew that He knew best; and that I believed He was unceasingly working for our good.

We went back for another ultrasound this week and got great news!  Our little baby was measuring right on time and the heartbeat was strong.

In the dark of the room with just a glow of the screen that displayed a bouncy baby, I cried.  I cried because I was happy, of course, but mostly I cried because I saw the gift that came out of my act of obedience and step of faith.  This is the God I serve- He is faithful to do the work if I am willing to trust Him.

So we are expecting another baby in March and our hearts are full!  

And I think this is the way we continue to mend.

It’s the way we mend 
We tear it all down and we’ll start it again 
And I don’t know how but you find me where we begin 
And that’s just the way, the way that we mend

"The Way We Mend" by Bebo Norman

Mothering a Miracle

My son is a miracle.  

A few years ago I was told that each time I became pregnant I had a 30-40% chance of carrying to term (the average woman’s chances are 80%).  So with numbers like that and after six miscarriages, I am confidently calling him a miracle.

The whole time I was pregnant I was convinced he would die.  Each appointment to hear his heartbeat was one that I dreaded and forget about the 20 week ultrasound.....I near had an anxiety attack were it not for my coaching myself to remain as calm as possible for my baby’s sake.

When all you know is death and disappointment, it’s hard to believe that life and happiness will come.

But they did.  Life was born from me and I held him as I looked around the room and told everyone repeatedly, “This is my baby!”  They all nodded because they knew where we had been and they knew this boy was long-awaited.

I was the mother of the miracle baby that day.  

Fast-forward 18 months and now I am the mother of an active, curious, funny, and determined little boy.  He’s sweet when he wants to be and a pistol the rest of the time.  He makes my brain tired, my knees bruised, and my heart swell with love for him.  Because even when he is defiant and drives me nuts, I adore him and would do anything for him.

We are what feels like eons away from those first few weeks where everything was so new and sacred and the glow of having our miracle boy home with us was still as bright as the day he was born.  Now we are settled into the same hum-hum of parenting a toddler like so many others.

But there is still something so different from us and so many others.  And the difference is that we almost did not get here.  That we have a son almost did not happen.

But we are here and he did happen and sometimes I ask myself and GOD, “How do I mother a miracle?”  I am learning the answer is that I don’t do anything different than anyone else.  

But what is different is me.

Sometimes in the morning when I walk into his room and he reaches for me all warm from sleep with a smile on his silly face, my heart skips a beat because HIS mercies are new every morning and joy comes in the morning and I am swimming in that sea of provision.  

And I almost didn’t get here.  

Sometimes when he is throwing a tantrum I sit back and watch him because I am in awe of his lung capacity and the way his legs kick while his arms pump up and down, all while releasing a flood of tears.  I can’t be upset or annoyed because I am too busy marveling at this creation that was born out of me. 

And I almost did not get to see this.

Sometimes at night when I am holding his slow-breathing body and running my fingers through his hair, I cry because now the weight that sits on my chest is him and not longing.

And I almost never had this.

In those moments- in the quiet of my heart and in humble gratitude to HIM- I thank GOD for my miracle boy.  That HE chose me to mother him is something I will never get over.

A friend was once said that my son must be so strong and a real fighter because he did what six other babies weren’t able to do- he grew and grew and grew until he was born pink and loud and he amazed us all.

And he still does.

On the Eve Of You

My dear boy,

We are just weeks- or maybe days- away from meeting you and I have so much to tell you before you get here.

More than anything, I want you to know how excited we are to see your sweet face and hold you and lock eyes with you.  Each night we crawl into bed and talk about you and what it will be like to have you home with us.  I always say that I can’t wait to hold you and your daddy, well he is so silly, because he talks about wanting to poke at you and take you to Starbucks in the baby carrier to get a gold card.

We just want you here with us and still can’t quite comprehend how real you are.

These last couple of months, you have been truly celebrated.  Friends and neighbors held celebrations in your honor and we have been overwhelmed by all of the love and excitement they have shown in awaiting your arrival.  People we do not know have sent you gifts or sent us messages congratulating us.  They heard our story and know what a miracle you are and they just want to be a part of our joy.  

It’s almost as if you are everyone’s baby, but how blessed we are that you are ours.

Lately, you and I have been meeting in my dreams.  I hold you and we go for walks and there is always a lot of kissing and cooing.  I love those dreams and our time together in them.  

Could a mother love her son anymore than I love you?  I just don’t see how it’s possible.

I keep thinking about how this time last year I was resigned to the idea that we would never have a baby and although it was not what I wanted, I was beginning to settle in with that.  But your daddy always had hope and he- along with the hopes and prayers of so many others- believed it was not yet the end for us.  

That kind of hope comes from GOD and it is because of HIM you are here, my sweet baby.  

These last nine months have been so redemptive for me physically.  I have spent the last three years mourning (and sometimes hating) my body and what it would not do and now I get to revel in all the ways it has changed because of you.

And I cannot help but think of the babies we have lost.  They are your brothers and sisters and you will never meet them, but we will talk about them.  They will be important for you to know about because their lives- and their deaths- changed me in ways that have shaped the woman I am now; the mother I will become; and the follower of CHRIST I am called to be.

Grief changes a person- it has to- and the choice I had to make was if I was going to let it make me bitter or softer.  I never wanted bitterness to be my legacy and that is not something I will pass on to you.

And so, on the eve of you, I want you to know that you are treasured beyond riches and wanted beyond desires.  You are our miracle and an embodiment of GOD’s promise to make all things new.  

I love you so much, dear boy.

The Seasons of My Son

Winter

I enjoy winter.  Unlike most people I know, I look forward to the bare branches, white lawns, and grey skies.  I suppose it is the melancholy side of me that needs some months of the year to appease me and match my reflections and thoughts.  

And I like to bundle up in layers, cover my head, and hole up in our cozy place in the sky.  I need privacy and a chance to retreat because unlike what most people would think, I am not an extrovert and relish time alone- like really truly alone or with my love.

We learned I was pregnant on January 22 while we were away visiting family.  The news was welcomed but both Jason and I settled into our customary line of thinking: let’s just see where this goes before we think about it too much. 

And so for me, it felt so fitting to begin my 7th pregnancy in the season of winter.  I was feeling anxious about what would come of my baby and could not fathom seeing bright flowers and sunny skies when I knew this could sadly come to an end for us.  Once I was 6 weeks along, nausea and extreme fatigue kicked in and I was grateful for the excuse of winter to stay home and retreat.

I spent the time watching and waiting, hoping and praying, and crying and laughing through my anxiety in what would become the Winter of all Winters.  

Spring

It must be universal that spring signifies the promise of new beginnings and the hope that comes with that.  I am reminded of GOD’s promise to make all things new most in the springtime.  HE alone can end the winters of our hearts and minds.

As the weeks went by and after two good reports from the midwives on the status of this pregnancy, it felt right to be in the season of spring.  Flowers were budding on the trees, lawns were starting to show as the snow melted, and the sun was peeking through the clouds more and more.  

These things were happening as my baby did something so unexpected: he made it past the first trimester and continued to prove strong and valiant as the second trimester quickly came upon us. 

As the landscape of the physical world around me was changing, so was my body.  It began to round out and after having only speculated about what this change in me could look like, I was seeing it with my own eyes.  It was surreal and welcomed.

On May 2 we found out we where having a son and just hours later my Uncle Danny passed away.  The joy of new life mixed with the sadness of a life that had ended was a milestone in the Spring of all Springs.

Summer

I have never been a fan of summer.  I don’t like the heat or the humidity and I don’t like the sun barreling down on me.  For me, summer is much too extreme of a season and is sensory overload for the body.  One minute you are sweating profusely from the heat that rises from the pavement and the next you are shivering from the air conditioning blowing on your feet and nose.  

But most everyone loves summer.  They give summer a high-five and a nod of approval when she comes rolling in with her heat and sunshine.  The world takes notice of summer because she is hard to miss and is prominently on display.

Being this pregnant in this season of the year has been a bit of sensory overload for me.  I am less able to tolerate heat, sometimes my ankles swell and I can’t be on my feet as long as I am used to, and I am hungry all. of. the. time.  I am used to having a light appetite in the hot months but this baby demands food all day and all night.

When I walk down the street, I get smiles from old ladies, nods and winks from moms, and stares from everyone else.  It seems that most of the world takes notice of pregnant women.

I turned 35 a few days ago and while I always thought I would be done with having children by this time in life, it’s been exciting and humbling to anticipate the arrival of our son in this Summer of all Summers.

Fall

I love fall.  Always have.  Always will.  Fall brings cool breezes that put an end to summer, a color palette pleasing to any eye, and the chance to slow down after a season of playing hard and playing all day long.  Fall is the capstone of the year because it both invites reflection on the past year and anticipation of the new year to come.

Our son will be born in the fall and I am glad for that.  It seems the perfect time of year to welcome this sweet baby into our arms.  We have been waiting for this time in our lives for so very long.  We have dreamed of what it will be like and to have it be just a season away is more than we could have ever have hoped for after so much loss.

As I await the birth of this baby, I am reflective of the journey we have been on and excited for where it is leading us now.  It is safe to say that once our boy arrives, we will be living in the Fall of all Falls.


"For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven."  Ecclesiastes 3:1

Spiritual Deliverance

PLEASE NOTE: I am sharing some very personal thoughts and by sharing them I am not seeking advice or input on what I should or should not do.  But words of encouragement are always welcomed!

For as long as I can remember, I have been afraid of the idea of giving birth.  I am sure TV, movies, and people’s scary stories are what led me to believe that nothing good could come from having to give birth- besides the obvious getting to hold a baby in your arms, which never really consoled my fears.

My mom tells of the times I would worry to her, “What if I marry someone when I grow up who wants to have babies?”  I was probably 6 when I started thinking about this.

Well, I did marry someone who wants to have babies (turns out I did, too!) and now I am 27 weeks pregnant and the inevitable act of having to give birth is quickly coming upon me.  And I am constantly in a state of reflection of these past few years and how they have shaped my mind and heart as I approach the impending birth of our son.

With the exception of my first miscarriage, all of our babies were miscarried in the quiet of our home because it was important to me to honor their too-short lives by allowing them to pass through my body just as they would have had they had the chance to be born full-term.  I always did this in our bathtub so I could “catch” my babies and have the chance to see them outside of my body.  Those moments were a perplexing mixture of peace, sadness, and curiosity.

Medical intervention (specifically D&C’s) was always presented to me as an option to quickly end the process and get my body back to “normal” sooner than later.  But that never was an option for me.  Not because I am some sort of super woman or look down upon such help, but because I knew even back then that though these experiences were sad ones, my miscarriages were shaping my outlook on how I would deliver a full-term baby if ever given the chance.  

I knew my body was capable of miscarrying on its own and did not any help.  The less people and the less intervention involved the better because for me, the process of miscarrying was not strictly medical- it was spiritual.  While my heart was crying out in pain, my body was too.  And the crying out of both my heart and body was meant for GOD to hear because only HE could deliver me through such pain as this.

So as we began to talk about how we would like our son to be born into this world, my immediate thought was to do a water birth because it felt like a way to redeem the past three and a half years and to actively see GOD’s promise to make all things new.  

I know there are so many variables in giving birth- so many things that can happen that one cannot predict or plan for- and so while I prepare for a water birth by educating myself, securing labor support, and asking the LORD for HIS help and HIS presence on that fateful day, I know all this could change.  And I am okay with that.

And I will not deny that I still carry some fear in me- fear of the unknown and what I cannot control and fear of the pain- but I am constantly reminding myself that my body was made to labor and that as my mom would so often tell me, “Labor is not pain.  Pain is your body responding to something that is not natural.  It is natural for your body to labor.  Labor is work.”

Through all of this, I am pondering this birth not as a medical condition but a chance for redemption and the opportunity to feel immeasurable joy after a season of so much sadness and grieving.  

For me, the birth of my son will be a spiritual deliverance no matter how he is delivered into my arms.

A New Bend in the Road

I am 23 weeks along in this pregnancy and I can report that it has only been in the last few weeks that I have felt more excitement than anxiety.  Getting to our 20 week ultrasound and knowing that everything is just as it should be with our sweet little boy was a hurdle I needed to jump over in order for my heart to freely and fully enter into the joy and anticipation of his arrival.

So we have begun to make plans for our son’s arrival and in doing so, we no longer talk about “if” he comes home, but “when” he will come home.  

When my baby kicks or has the hiccups, I delight in that.  And yet, I mourn what I never got to experience with our other six babies.  I am still mindful that we waited over three years for this time in our lives to come and that getting here found us losing so much.

A few times it has been said to me that the happiness and excitement we feel now must make up for all that we have endured in the past.

I assure you it does not.

The present joy of things does not diminish or erase the past hurt and losses; rather, it is the losses and pain from the past that heightens the joy of things today.

And so it seems I am turning down a new bend in the road and I am no longer a mother who only mourns.  Now I am a mother who continues to mourn, but also one who can see on the horizon something full of life being born out of my body and into our hearts.

Here I Raise My Ebenezer

Oh friends, we have such good news to share with you.  It’s so fun to be able to share good news with you!

We had our 20 week ultrasound appointment and everything looks perfect!  Everything about our little baby is just as it should be.  Everything about this body of mine is just as it should be.

How different all of this is for us.  How surreal, too.

We are grateful.  

Grateful to the medical professionals who have taken such good care of me and our baby.

Grateful for our friends and family who have hoped with us for the last few months that this time- this seventh time- would be different.

Grateful for each other because at the end of the day, when fears subside and hope surfaces, we have each other to share in it with.

And grateful to the LORD because, after all, it is HE who has done a great work here.  HE made possible what seemed impossible.  HE is making beauty from ashes.....again.

So it is here that I raise my ebenezer, thankful- beyond thankful, really- for what GOD has done, what HE is doing, and what HE will do.

I never want to forget this milestone in our lives and the life of our baby.

And so, it is with great joy that we announce to you that we are having a BOY.  A sweet baby boy!  We can hardly believe it.

I can scarcely wait for the day I can hold him and whisper to him the story of all that GOD overcame to bring him to us.

Our son is greatly loved beyond measure and deeply treasured beyond riches.  

That's our son- he has my nose and hopefully he'll have Jason's awesome hair!

Mother's Day for the Grieving and Hurting

Over the years I have come to deeply appreciate the friends (and strangers) in my life who are willing to go out on a limb and do or say something that recognize my losses.  I know that on their part they took a risk in doing or saying something that they must have wondered could have upset me or turned me off.  

But they always do the opposite- they endear me to them and serve as sweet reminders that though not everyone can know what it’s like to walk the road I have, they can walk a few steps on it with me and in turn become a part of the healing my heart is longing for.

With Mother’s Day just around the corner and knowing that so many of you know someone who has had a pregnancy loss or is struggling with infertility, I wanted to share some ideas on how you might be able to walk a few steps with these women and make what can be a dreaded day one that reminds them they are loved and thought of.

• Give them a card, or write them a note.  I always vote for something hand-written because it’s something that they can come back to again and again, especially on days when they feel alone in their pain and need a reminder that others are carrying some of this hurt with them.  

• Give them a hug.  It’s amazing just how much physical touch can communicate without any words being said and the emotions it can bring out.  So don’t be alarmed or ashamed if in giving a hug to someone who has lost a baby or is struggling with infertility you pull back and see tears.  Those tears are necessary and are a part of their healing.

• Give them a gift.  It could be flowers or something personal like a necklace or charm.  I have been the recipient of a few beautiful necklaces that pay tribute to my babies and my mother’s heart.  I do not wear them every day, but even just to look at them is such a sweet gift.  One year a friend sent me two felt birds in the mail on the Mother’s Day after my second miscarriage and now birds have been a way that we commemorate the lives and losses of our babies- each year we put our 6 felt birds on our Christmas tree.  And in turn, I have given a few friends who have lost babies their own felt birds to remember their babies by.  For one friend, I knew the months her babies were due to be born, so I did birds in the colors of those months’ birthstones.  Etsy has so many choices for customized jewelry and things like felt birds and at very affordable prices

• Say something.  Anyone who has lost a baby or who has struggled with infertility will tell you that one of the hardest parts about it is that so often their pain goes unrecognized.  You can imagine how Mother’s Day only heightens that pain.  Don’t worry about saying anything profound or uber-spiritual.  Just saying “I know this day must be hard for you.  I love you and I am thinking of you” goes a long way.

If you know the name of your friend’s baby who passed away, then say their name, write it in your card or note, or considering using it on a necklace or other commemorative gift.  While this may seem like something that would be far too upsetting for a woman, it is actually just the opposite.  When a woman has lost her baby and has given them a name that they have shared with others, saying or writing that baby’s name only helps her to feel that others acknowledge her loss and are entering into some of her mourning.  It’s a beautiful thing you are doing, I promise.

And these are things you can do any time of the year.....you can never communicate enough to a woman who has lost a baby or is struggling with infertility that you are thinking of them.

One last thought: If you are a part of a church community and have noticed that women who have lost babies or are in the throws of infertility are not recognized, then ask your church leadership to do something on Mother's Day that acknowledges these women.  At our church, we give flowers to all of the moms and the ones who have lost babies get white ones.  We also say something from the front that pays tribute to moms who have children to hold in their arms and that also acknowledges the women have lost or are still waiting for their own children.  It's simple but very meaningful.

And Here We Are Today

Over the last couple of years, women (and some men) have asked me what we have done medically to address my recurrent pregnancy loss (RPL), which is a form of infertility.  And so, in an effort to help others- or help others help someone else- I am going to share all that we have done in the last few years with the hopes that it will help others.

After my second miscarriage:

We sent in our baby’s remains for testing to see if we could get any answers as to why we lost this baby.  The results came back “not viable for testing,” which meant we would not get any answers or know if this was a chromosomal issue or something else.

You do not have to have a D&C done to have your baby’s remains tested.  I miscarried naturally at home with all of my pregnancies and the key is to put everything you collect in the refrigerator and get it to your doctor/midwife immediately.  

I had extensive blood work to check for any auto-immune diseases and/or blood clotting disorders.  Everything came back “normal.”

Some doctors will have you wait until your third miscarriage to have the testing done, but don’t do that if you do not have to.  If your insurance will cover it (some may force you to wait until your third miscarriage), I urge you to get the testing done before your third pregnancy.   If you have a family history of auto-immune diseases and/or blood clotting disorders, then get tested before you get pregnant the first time.

And I made arrangements to be put on progesterone the next time I found out I was pregnant.  I did 100mg daily.

The only thing I would have done differently here was have my progesterone levels tested before my second pregnancy (it’s a simple blood test done on the 21st day of your cycle) because we would have seen that my levels are very low and I could have been on the progesterone sooner.

After my third miscarriage:

We also had the remains from this miscarriage tested and still could not get any answers.  This was frustrating, to say the least, but we would later be so glad that we did this.

My husband and I underwent genetic testing.  This involved a meeting extensively going over both of our families’ histories to see if anything jumped out to the geneticist as a possible culprit and then another simple blood test that would in turn allow technicians to see if we had chromosomal abnormalities.  Everything came back “normal” for us both.

If you are African-American, or of Jewish or French-Canadian descent, get this testing done for sure as I seem to recall that a lot of the possible abnormalities that could present at the chromosomal level were in people of these descents/ethnicities.

I also made an appointment with a Reproductive Endocronoligist (RE) doctor.  These doctors specialize in infertility and can take you to the next level of testing that is available.  As much as I wanted to stay under the care of my midwives because I was comfortable with them, they had limitations of what they could medically do for me.  

When you have your first appointment with the RE doctor, bring all of your medical files, lab results, and anything else you have that will help them get a complete picture of where you have been up to that point.  Be prepared to answer a lot of personal questions about your sex life and have a good understanding of how your cycle has been since you started trying to get pregnant.  These doctors are like detectives- at least the good ones are- and they are going to want to know a lot about you to help them decide what the next step will be for you.

My RE doctor wanted me to do an hysterosalpingogram (HSG), which is an X-ray of the uterus and fallopian tubes.  This helps the doctor to see if you have a mis-shaped uterus or blocked fallopian tubes and is typically a test done on women who cannot conceive.  In my case of being able to conceive, the doctor wanted to know if I had any uterine abnormalities.  

I scheduled the appointment and got as far as the procedure room but then I walked out because it did not feel right to me to do this test.  I still cannot explain why I walked out of the room with a doctor, a nurse, and a few other medical professionals left behind trying to convince me to stay, but I knew I had to listen to my body and my body was saying “NO!” to this procedure.

The lesson here is to listen to your body.  You know what is best for your body and while it is the doctor’s job to tell you what tests they recommend, you get to decide if, when, and how you undergo those tests.

After my fourth and fifth miscarriages:

We decided it was time to take a break from getting pregnant- my body was tired but even more so, my heart was crushed and I was emotionally spent.

I began seeing an acupuncturist and she confirmed what I was already feeling- my body was depleted and it needed time to heal and restore itself.  It was costly, but we decided that I would go to acupuncture once a week and I ended up doing that for almost a year.  My acupuncturist became an integral part of our team of experts, and she used Chinese herbs and essential oils to help my body heal.  

Slowly, but steadily, we began seeing physical improvements in me- my tongue was becoming more pink and less purple; I did not feel cold in my feet and hands anymore; my energy was coming back; aches and pains I was experiencing were going away; my cycle was getting back on track and lessening in length.  All of these were signs that where there was once blood depletion (all of the miscarriages did that) and stagnation, now blood was flowing freely and as it should.

To me, the biggest win with the acupuncture was the emotional release it provided me each week.  There were sessions that I would lie on the table crying and since I could not move much because of all of the needles, I allowed the tears to fall freely.  While I had grieved all of our losses along the way, I had a great deal of grief in me centered around my body and how things were supposed to be but were not.

I cannot say it enough, listen to your body and do not underestimate the importance of taking care of yourself emotionally.  It’s normal- and I would say even inevitable- that you will need to grieve and cry over your body and how it is or is not performing.  Allow yourself the freedom, and time and space to do this grieving.  

In this year of taking a break, I was diagnosed with having a blood disorder called Methylenetetrahydrofolate reductase (MTHFR).  I won’t bore you with the details about this, but the biggest problem (in my opinion) with MTHFR is that doctors cannot seem to agree on what role it could or does play in RPL, amongst other things.  To this day I still cannot get a straight answer on what role MTHFR has posed or could pose in my past or future pregnancies.

I have done my own research and have decided that not only is MTHFR something to address in my pregnancies, but also in my day-to-day living, so I take Methyl-Guard each day.  This is me being my own advocate and deciding what is best for my body and my baby.

After a year of waiting, we got pregnant for the 6th time.  I elected to not return to the RE doctor I had been seeing because I was not happy with my care or his course of action.  I felt like another case and like he was not willing to think outside the box.  That’s not the kind of person I wanted on my team.

Do not be afraid to “fire” your doctor and find a new one.  They are working for you and if you feel like you are not getting the care you need, well then you probably are not and you should find someone new who will offer you that level of care.  You have to be your own advocate.

This pregnancy was the furthest I had ever gotten (I made it to 10 weeks) but when we went in for our first ultrasound, there was no heartbeat.  We don’t know why this happened again but we do know that we did everything possible on our end to get my body ready for this pregnancy.

After my 6th miscarriage:

We went to see a doctor who was a specialist in RPL.  She reviewed all of my medical files and after a long first appointment, she recommended a hysteroscopy (another way of doing the HSG) and a uterine biopsy to see if I had infection in the lining of my uterus.

She also noticed that I had never been tested to see if I was a carrier for the Cystic Fibrosis gene.  That test came back as “no” and we were able to eliminate another possible culprit.

The other thing she wanted to do was request the remains of our second and third pregnancies from the hospital we had them tested at (we learned that after they do testing on the remains, they put them in wax blocks for a period of time).  The paperwork went through and the remains were sent to a lab in California for more extensive testing and what we found out would prove to be important for my next pregnancy.

I had the procedures she recommended done in August 2012 and both came back “normal.”  

That fall, my husband and I were told that there was nothing left to be done for us in trying to find answers to the reason why I kept miscarrying and that with any future pregnancies we had a 30-40% chance of miscarrying again (the average population is in the range of 15-20%).  

But we were also told that the next time I become pregnant that I was to take 200mg of progesterone and a baby aspirin each day.  The aspirin was because one of the tests done on the pregnancy remains revealed some clotting in the placenta which could have easily caused the blood supply to my baby to be cut off.  This was a huge find (in my mind) because it was an answer of sorts.

And here we are today.....

Today I am 15 weeks pregnant with a healthy baby.  I am back with the midwives I started off with and I was carefully followed throughout my first trimester.  I took 200mg of progesterone until I was 12 weeks and will continue the baby aspirin until I am 36 weeks.  I can go in and hear the heartbeat as much as I want and have been treated with the utmost care and understanding by the midwives.

So are the double dosages of progesterone or daily aspirin the things that made the difference this time?  Could be.  I will never say they were not, but I also will never give them all the credit.

This baby is our miracle baby and GOD gets all the credit for their strong heartbeat and little legs that kick inside of me.  Honestly, I believe HE has put us on this journey for purposes we can see now and ones that I believe we may never know this side of heaven.

I was never promised a baby (I still am not) but I was promised HIM and through all of this- through all of the testing, waiting, hoping, despairing, longing, and grieving- HE showed up and proved to do what HE says HE always will do......work for the good of those who love HIM.

How do the deaths of six babies demonstrate the goodness of GOD?  The answer does not lie in my understanding of things alone, but in the truth of who HE is.  

I am grateful for this journey in ways that may not make sense to some and I’ll leave those thoughts for another post, but what I want you to know is that if you are on a similar journey- or if you know someone who is- this does not just have to be just a quest for having a baby.  This journey can be so much more than doctor appointments, support groups, crying, and waiting.....

It can be the start of having a deeper understanding of who GOD is and who you are in CHRIST.  Your sole purpose in life is not to have a baby and your worth does not lie in that.  And I believe that GOD can and wants to use where HE has you now to demonstrate HIS love to you and the promises HE has for you.

That's what HE did for me....amongst other things.

On the Fence

We want to thank you for the outpouring of love and prayers you have shown us since we shared our pregnancy news.  I have been overwhelmed by the messages, texts, phone calls, and e-mails that so many of you have sent and so many have brought tears to my eyes because I know now that Jason and I are not the only ones praying for this baby.

Thank you, friends.  Thank you for loving us and for sharing in our joy- it makes this time that much richer and oh so much sweeter.

It has felt foreign and strange to me to be on this side of the fence.  To have so many wish us well and be happy for us when my heart and my memories are still very rooted in the experiences of these past 3 1/2 years.  

We had some dear friends over to dinner and when we shared our news about this miracle baby, the husband asked the question, “If you have this baby, will you be able to move past the past?”

No one had ever asked the question before and even though I am quite the slow processor and often need time to think through my responses, my response came quickly.

The fact of the matter is that our losses and the grief that I have felt have changed me.  

For forever.

And while my circumstances may have changed with this pregnancy, I have not.

Infertility and the deaths of my six babies have changed me.  And they have permanently changed my relationship with CHRIST and how I know GOD. 

Grief changes you.  It has to.  When you become so well acquainted with the dark parts of life, you taste and see the need for a SAVIOR and the need for hope that is not to be found or had in this world.  

The change comes because you have to decide what you are going to do with that grief- are you going to become bitter and resentful and turn to temporary things to mask the pain?  Or are you going to walk through the grief and allow it to lead you to the ONE who promises peace and hope?

And my heart remains with my friends who are still waiting for their babies and mourning their own losses.  These women have become an important part of my own journey and they have been integral in helping me process and heal.  I know the pain they are in and the hurt and longing they feel on a daily basis. 

And so while it is fun to talk to other women who are or have been pregnant and to moan about the many changes to your body and the exciting things to come, my mind always goes to life on the other side of the fence.

My mind pages through the faces of my dear friends who want so badly to hold a baby of their own.  These are “my people” and they are the ones I feel closer to than anyone else right now in this part of my journey.  

I have been the recipient of their sincere expressions of happiness for us and it is their words that I treasure most because I know the place it comes from is hard and it stings with tears.

And so I think where I really am at is on the fence.  I am not on one side or the other.  After wanting for so long to be on the motherhood side and after being so long on the infertility side, I am on neither for now.  

And that’s okay, because it’s just another bend in the road for me on this journey GOD has laid out before me.  I may be on the fence, but I know HE never is.

Proof of Life!

It is with great excitement- and a heavy dose of surrealism- that we share that we are expecting our 7th baby.  We have every reason to believe and hope that this baby will not be a glory baby, but a baby that we will hold in our arms this side of heaven.  After three appointments with good reports, we have a healthy baby with a strong heartbeat.  

We have proof of life!

So many of you have loved us and prayed with us over the last 3 1/2 years and we remain grateful to you and your prayers over the course of this journey.  

The journey, at times, has been dark and unrelenting.  But we know that GOD has always been working for our good.  That HE has always loved us.  That HE always was writing a part of the story that we could not see or fully comprehend.  

HE still is and while we still do not know how our story will end, we remain grateful to the GOD who makes all things new.  To the ONE who makes beauty from ashes.  To the FATHER who heals the broken-hearted. And who promises to give us the desires of our heart.

Please keep praying for us and pray that our baby grows healthy and strong and that we can meet them in September.

"...but this happened that we might not rely on ourselves, but on GOD....on HIM we have put our hope that HE will continue to deliver us, as you help us by your prayers.  Then many will give thanks on our behalf for the gracious favor granted us in answer to the prayers of many."  I Corinthians 1:9-10

That's my baby saying "Hi!"

In The Land of The Living

It’s Christmastime and my mind keeps wandering to death.

I should be thinking about baby JESUS born in a manger and being born the hope of the world, but instead I keep thinking about death.  

The death of my six babies and the death of a dream that I had to be a mom in the ways I wanted to be a mom.

I hate death.  If I could, I would spit in its face and send it to its own grave.

Needless to say, going back to counseling has been a needed way to spend my time.  Each time I go I ask the question, “Is this normal?”  And each time Roger says, “It’s normal for you.”  He reminds me that this journey is complicated and taxing and could destroy the faintest of hearts.  

So often I would like for nothing more than to melt into my own tears.  To not feel.  To not know loss on such a level as this.  To walk away- not from my life- but from the pain of it all.  To lock it up in a box and sink it to the bottom of the ocean.  To wake up one day and not have a thought of death and go to bed the same night thinking only of life. of babies who live.

Right now I wish I could fast forward through this part of life.  I want to be out of the baby-making, family-building season and I want to know where GOD will land us in this area of life.  I want what feels so present and raw now to be distant and dulled like I hope it will then.

Through all of our losses, I have come to find that suffering is not equally distributed and that grief is a bittersweet way to connect with my LORD on a very intimate level. 

It’s not what I was hoping for and it certainly was not anything I was looking for, but here I am.  

I am in the land of the living amidst my thoughts of death.  And every year and month and week and sometimes day, I am learning what it looks like to walk in the land of the living while I mourn. to feel in the land of the living while I wish I could go numb. to have joy in the land of the living while my heart is breaking.

“I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living.”  

Psalm 27:13

Our Sixth Glory Baby

Dear Baby,

It’s been almost two weeks since you were due to be here.  As I was busy in the kitchen on Thanksgiving day, I thought of you.  I could not help but think how much I wish I was laid up in a hospital somewhere reveling in your arrival and not thinking at all about food or table settings.

If there was a hallway that ran from my heart to my mind, it would be worn with thoughts of you. I do believe that one of the hardest points about being here without you is finding the time and space to grieve you.  Because all I wanted to do that day- and the days since- is stop doing all that is expected or needed of me and grieve you.

And to grieve this body of mine that continues to fail me.  If I were not grateful for my eyes to see, my arms to hold, my ears to hear, and all of the other things GOD has granted me, I would condemn this body and wish to see it go.

But I want you to know that even in your death I have seen the goodness of GOD.  For HE has not been slack in HIS promises to make much of HIMSELF while working for my good.  

I found my voice after you left and while I am still learning how to use it, so much good has come in the aftermath.  

Nearly two years ago, I began to piece together thoughts on who GOD is in my suffering and grief.  All that time I went back and forth on those thoughts- tweaking them here and there but still not sure how or when they would be used or shared.  And then after we lost you, I was flooded with GOD’s truth about HIMSELF and the words poured out of me until there was nothing left to be said.  Nothing left to write.  Nothing left to question or wonder about.  Those thoughts became the message I got to share with a room filled with women who were panting to know GOD’s goodness.

The week we lost you, we invited friends to come and sit with us and so many times they would say to us “There is so much peace in this place.”  How strange to find peace in the darkest of hours.  But I felt this peace too.  It did not make sense to me, but I was thankful for the gift of it.

I marveled to so many how good GOD was to me in the timing of losing you.  HE knew that my heart- and my faith- could not stand up to the despair that came had we lost another baby soon after a fifth.  HE knew that I would need the time to become well-acquainted with who HE is in our suffering so that when we did lose you, I could only point myself and others back to the truth of who HE is, even in the midst of our loss and despair.

I am more broken because of you.  And I am less hopeful because of you.  But I have tasted and seen more of my FATHER’s goodness because of you.

You have changed me.  For better or worse, I am not the same me I was nine months ago.  

Christmas will be here soon and while many will not know, I will know that you were supposed to be here with us.  

And I will wish that you were.

I always will.

With abiding love for you,

Momma

Dear Infertility

Dear Infertility,

It’s been three years since I met you and I have come to find that you are a strange friend.  I feel so conflicted about meeting your acquaintance- most days I wish I had never met you and then there are moments when I am thankful for all the things you have brought to my life.

Because of you, I have heard the silence of family who do not speak of my losses or the difficulty of walking this road day in, day out.   But because of you, I have felt the comfort of strangers who talk about my losses and their words have been a healing balm.  Like the lady who looked like Mary Kay Ash with bright pink lipstick and pulled me aside at an event and told me she was praying for me and that she saw my mother’s heart when I spoke of my babies.

Yes, because of you, strangers feel like family and family feels like strangers....

To read the rest of my post, head over to the Bevy Blog where I’m guest writing today!

Hard Days

I get asked the question “How are you doing these days?” a lot.

I have to be honest and say that most of the time I just gloss over the truth of how I am doing because 1) most people do not want to take the time to listen; 2) some really do not want to hear the honest truth; and 3) I don’t like talking about my sadness and losses with just anyone....it cheapens my experience and that bothers me.

Oh gosh, I can imagine it’s so hard to be on the other side of someone like me.  You don’t know what to say (usually just saying “I’m sorry” suffices) and you’re afraid to say something wrong (believe me, I heave heard it all...the only wrong thing you can say is “I understand what you are going through” when, in fact, you don’t).  

But I am thankful for the few close friends I have who will enter into my emotion by listening to me no matter what state I am in, which these days has been mostly angry sprinkled with tears.

I am in a hard season right now and have been having more bad days than good.  I try my best to stay on the sunnier side of things, but between the fact that I do not have a bent toward sunny outlooks and the reality of our circumstances, it’s easy to sit under a cloud and wait for more rain to come.

My sixth due date is coming up in just about 4 weeks and I can’t help but lament for my baby.  The time has gone by so quickly and it’s hard to imagine that we would have been getting ready to bring a baby home.  

The holidays are approaching and I always associate holidays with children.  

The three year mark of us trying to have a family is coming up in a couple of weeks.  Never in a million years would I have ever thought that three years from then we would still be in the same place as we are now.....only with more losses and less hope.

I feel left out.  I am at a stage in life where nearly all of my peers/friends have children and since we do not, there is a lot that we miss out on- parties, outings, conversations, you name it.  I am becoming more and more aware of this.  I guess I feel irrelevant- infertile and irrelevant.  I know that’s a lie (well, the infertile part isn’t) but it’s one that I am having a hard time not believing.

And this one is hardest and hurts the most- sometimes I feel so sad for my husband that he may never be a father to a child he can hold and talk to.  I hate that my body won’t allow us to bring a baby home.  I see how hurtful this experience can and has been for him since men are often forgotten in this journey and so few of them have the experience of friends truly entering into their sorrow.

I don’t like how tritely what we are going through is sometimes treated, like we did not get into the school we wanted and can always try for another one.  We may not have children, people.  That’s a big deal.  It’s a game-changer.  It’s a life sentence.

And I don't like it when others assume to know everything of how we are doing, what we are doing, what life is like for us, or how we are processing all of this just because they read this blog.  

There is a lot that I do not share on this blog (especially the medical parts) and what I do share is a glimpse into our journey that I feel led to share with the hopes that it may encourage, normalize, or educate someone.  

To that end, if you do read my blog and have along the way sent an encouraging note or made a comment, thank you.  I always appreciate your words and prayers.

So where is GOD in all of this?

HE is right in it with me.  I don't have to pretend with HIM because HE knows how I am feeling even better than I do.  HE knows these are hard days for me and I am so thankful that HE promises to stay with me in all of my days.

Our Fourth and Fifth Glory Babies

My Sweet Babies,

It’s been a year and a half since you left us and it’s taken this long for me to know what to say in the aftermath of losing you.  

There is so much I don’t remember about the time you came and then went and I think that had so much to do with the shock I was in and the deadening of my spirit that naturally comes with loss and anguish.  

One thing I know for sure is that having you and then losing you changed me and it turned what had been just a personal journey into something that is more like a mission- pointing others to their MAKER and HIS goodness and love for them.  

But that did not happen right away- that part of the journey took time to take root and become something beautiful.  First, I had to walk through a valley that was so wide and so deep and so long I was not sure I would ever come out of it.

Because I lost you I could no longer keep carrying on with life and relationships and pretend that I was okay because I wasn’t.  I wasn’t okay that death engulfed me; that people ignored what was happening; and that you left me.  I was crushed. hopeless. angry. 

And losing you forced the questions I needed to ask GOD and it brought to the surface so many doubts I had about who HE is- doubts I did not know were there.  

And so I did the only thing I knew to do and I stepped away from people, from work, from obligations and intentionally entered into a valley.  I needed space and time to figure out where to go next and I needed to be with GOD.  There was only one thing I asked of HIM- to meet me in that valley. to show up. to be present and near me.

And HE did.  Over and over HE met me in the depths of my despair and in the longing I had to be with you.  HE showed me HIS goodness and HE brought beauty where I did not think beauty could be found....beauty came from losing you.

You did not hold very much physical weight in this world, oh but you hold so much weight in my heart and that is what counts.

Babies, my heart still aches from the sting of losing you.  I wish you were here but I want you to know that even though we did not meet the way we were meant to and you did not change my life the way that babies typically do, you did indeed change me.

In your deaths I saw and tasted and heard and felt HIS goodness.  And because of you, my voice is stronger in a world that is filled with hurting people.

Someday we will meet and I will hold you the way that my arms long to, but until then the goodness of GOD is being made known to many and that, my sweet babies, is your legacy.

As your mom, I couldn’t be prouder.

I Don't Pray For Babies Anymore

I don’t pray for a baby anymore.  I just don’t.  

Maybe it’s a lie I am believing or it’s a lack of faith that I could ever have a baby, but either way, I don’t pray for babies anymore.

Instead, I pray for more of CHRIST in my life.  

I am not saying this to sound uber spiritual or make it seem that I am somewhere in my faith journey that I am not, because the reality is that I still struggle with the storyline GOD has written for me.

I don’t like being the infertile woman.  I look in the mirror and I can’t believe I am the face of infertility. that I have a body that loses babies. and that my arms may never hold a child of my own.

But I keep inserting GOD’s truths and promises into those things and what I keep coming back to is praying for more of HIM and less of me. and less striving. and less coveting. and less of this world.

And I don’t have a lot of hope for a baby anymore.  I used to, but that ship has sailed.  But I know my husband has hope and I love him for that.  His hope is the current that keeps me moving along- doing the tests, doing the procedures, taking this and that, and allowing us to talk about “some day when we have a baby.....”

And sometimes I feel like this is all my fault.  That I must have done something to my body in the past or in the present that has made us lose all of our babies.

After every miscarriage (except for the first one), I go about punishing my body in the only ways I can think of: I don’t exercise, I eat foods that I know will make me sick, and I stop taking all of my supplements and vitamins.

It’s my way of saying “F-you” to my body and for a little while I like the feeling of control I have over it even if it does only hurt me in the end.

Maybe it’s mother’s guilt- this feeling that is must be my fault- but I think it’s satan’s lies.

Something rather divine happened last week after our weekly staff meeting.  Two men from another church in New York were spending time with us and over the course of a few days, my husband and I had gotten to spend time with them either together or apart and at some point, my husband shared with one of them a brief history of our losses.

When I went to thank the man who knew some of my story for his time and words before he left for the airport, he said he had a word for me: that JESUS was pleased with how I was allowing my story to be used for HIS kingdom and that what has happened is not my fault.

How could he have known that I sometimes carry the weight of what has happened on my shoulders and feel marked and shamed?  Only GOD HIMSELF could have compelled him to say those words to me.

And I am grateful to him for saying them in the middle of a coffee shop with people all around because for a few seconds it felt like GOD HIMSELF was saying those words to me and it moved me to tears.

My heart is weary these days and it is not because of any one thing- it's just the natural ebb and flow of this journey we are on.  But I am going to do what I know to do- lean on my FATHER, press into HIM, and ask for more of HIM.

GOD Truth #7: HE Is Our Greatest Treasure

This is part seven of a seven series post that was born out of some very intentional time I took to walk the road of grief and longing, and sit in the place of despair and doubt. And I asked JESUS to meet me in my very broken place and to show me HIS goodness.

And HE did. Over and over HE did. And the more I looked for ways that HE is good, the more I found.

I call the things I learned about GOD in that season my GOD Truths. These are the very true things that GOD does and is to all of HIS children.

I know that my journey is meant to open the eyes, ears, and hearts of others to who GOD is. To draw them closer to their MAKER. To tell of HIS love for HIS people and HIS goodness throughout all the ages.

I have wanted to be a mommy for as long as I can remember.  Every day I long for some part of motherhood to come true for me.  Every day.  

I see a pregnant belly and I wish it was mine.  I see a woman nursing and I want to do that.  I see a family at the park and I want that for Jason and I.  

I think about the joy a baby would bring into our lives and very quickly that baby is on a pedestal assuming a higher position in my life than CHRIST does.  

A baby is not my greatest treasure.  JESUS is.  

I may never have a baby, but I will always, always have JESUS.

And because HE is my greatest treasure everything that I must endure in this life- losing babies included- is worth it because it draws me closer to HIM.

Romans 8:28  “And we know that for those who love GOD all things work together for good, for those who are called according to HIS purpose.” 

GOD’s purpose for your life- no matter what place you are in now- is a good purpose. 

I don’t know what the rest of my story will be.  I may not ever become a mother to children who are born from my own womb- this is very likely- and I grieve this deeply.  Every year that we go without having a child of our own in our arms, we see friends and family have babies of their own.    

And when I ask “Why them and not us?” HE reminds me that it’s all for HIS purposes and that I am where I am because it is where HE wants me to be and it is all for my good.  

And HE points me back to HIMSELF- back to the majesty of HIM; the sufficiency of HIM; the sheer awesomeness of HIM; and the treasure that is HIM.

Oh gosh, I am not trying to blow sunshine in your face, to make you think if you just accept these truths into your own life that suddenly your pain and your waiting for the things you hope for and desire will get easier.  

No, I don’t want to do that.  

I don’t want to cheapen your hurts and your longings and reduce them to “problems” that can be solved if you just insert one of these truths into it.

What I want to do is to point you back to the ONE who is the AUTHOR of it all and to remind you that HE is good.  

HE is good in your pain and hurt; HE is good in your grief and sorrow; HE is good in your longing and waiting; HE is good in your sickness; HE is good in it all.

And nothing can separate you from the love of your FATHER.  Every day HE is pursuing you and every day HE wants to manifest in you HIS goodness.

HE is your greatest treasure because you are made alive with CHRIST.  HE is your greatest treasure because by grace you have been saved.  

And until JESUS returns or you take your last breath, HIS banner over you is love and HIS plans for your life are good.

HE gives, HE takes away; HE is unchanging; HE is sovereign over all things; He gives beauty for ashes; He promises HIMSELF; HE has not forgotten you and HE is not through with you; and HE is your greatest treasure.

Believe in the goodness of GOD and pray that HE would give you the conviction to believe that HE is good.

Believe that everything HE does in your life is good.

Humble yourselves and repent of all the times you have found fault with HIM in the way HE has treated you.

Be satisfied with the will of GOD for it is holy and perfect.  Do not resist it.  Do not resent it.

Taste and see that HE is good.  

Because GOD, and HIS great love for you, is good.

Oh LORD, that you would find us faithful in our journeys; that we would not for one minute doubt YOUR goodness or YOUR sovereignty; that we would seek YOU and find YOU; that more than being married, or having a baby, health, or anything else, we would want YOU; that we would dwell with YOU in our valleys and still dance even when our hearts are breaking, our souls are longing, our arms are empty; and our bodies hurting; that we would be thankful for the work YOU have done, will do, and are promising to do until our last breath; and that we would not wish our journeys away, but rather, be willing servants of our KING to proclaim that YOU alone satisfy and are worthy and that YOU, o LORD, alone are good.  Amen.