He Who Has Dominion Over Me

The physical process of losing our baby- our tiny baby that could not be seen on the ultrasound- began at 3am this morning.  I awoke scared and in a good deal of pain.  There is something about waking up in pain when everyone else is asleep and the sun is nowhere in sight that makes the experience of it all so scary.  I am sure I am not alone in this feeling.

The pain scares me because I wonder if it is out of control.  Can my body handle doing this again?  Am I pushing myself to do this alone when I should be getting help?

This afternoon I made the 45 minute drive to see our counselor.  No amount of pain was going to keep me away from seeing him.  He is, in some ways, like a father to me.  In times of deep hurt- both in body and heart- I to want to be with someone who has a strong and reassuring father-like presence.  Roger is that for me.

We spent some time talking about God’s dominion because I had to ask the question if perhaps my body had gone rogue and was no longer operating in the will of God.  I mean this was the third time this happened to us and God did give me the words “grow” and “be well” to pray over this baby.  Surely something had gone awry and this was not supposed to happen.

Imagine the tears that flowed when he assured me over and over that the Lord indeed has dominion over me.  That nothing that is happening now- or has happened or will happen- is out of His control.  This is not an accident.  Losing three babies is part of my story.

And that kind of Truth makes the fear subside.  And it makes you brave.

Not the puffed up kind of brave.  Or the brave that relies on your own strength or understanding.  

But His kind of brave.  The kind of brave that only comes from the One who tells you to build an ark and keeps you in it for 40 days while all the earth and its people are destroyed.  The kind of brave that comes from the God who leads you through the desert place and makes a dramatic escape from your enemies.  It’s the kind of brave that allows you to step off the boat and onto the water.  

I feel a little brave tonight.  I feel Him in the midst of what is happening to me and my body.  Even though the pain is heightened and the physical part of this is far from being over, I feel a little brave tonight.  

And it comes from He who has dominion over me.  And it’s there because He has dominion over me.

Weeping

Death march.

This is what I call the walk I take from Michigan Avenue up to St. Clair Avenue, past Northwestern Hospital and a big, empty construction lot, until I find myself at the revolving doors of 680.  

I know this walk well.  I could do it blind-folded if I had to.  

I loathe this walk.

I made this walk today and just like all the other times I have walked it, my knees were stiff and my jaw was tight.  I tried to focus on “whatever is good and pure,” but mostly I was rehearsing how I would react to news that I didn’t want to hear.

We did not get good news today about our baby.  In fact, there was no baby to be found on the monitor.  All that was there was an empty sac.  There are about 13 million different thoughts racing in my head about this.

To be honest, I don’t know if I can stomach any one of you telling me how sorry you are or that you are praying for us.  Both seem so cheap and could offer no comfort to me.

But who am I to keep you from sharing whatever it is that is on your heart.  After all, I invited you into this part of my life with the hopes that all of our collective prayers would find us in a different place than where we are now.

We cannot celebrate together.  So weep with me.  

Weep because you are a parent and you can't imagine what life would be like without your children.

Weep because you know some of this pain.

Weep because you know this longing.

Weep because you have gotten a taste for the frailty of life.

Weep because you know what it feels like when He gives.  And when He takes away.

Weep because you can.  

Weep because you must.

Weep because it hurts to live.

Weep because it's scary to hope.

I am weeping.  Even in my shock and numbness, I am weeping.

First Ultrasound is Coming Up

Let me start be saying thank you for your prayers and encouraging words.  I have received so many e-mails and Facebook messages telling me that you are praying for our little baby and it has meant more than you'll ever know.  Truly, we are grateful for every prayer you lift up on our behalf. 

The last few weeks of knowing that I am pregnant have been a mixed bag of emotions.  But somewhere in the process of being scared of the unknown, joy crept in and has taken residence in a small place within me.  It's still a small part of me, but it's there nonetheless and that feels good.

Some of you have asked what I am doing this third time around to help keep this baby safe and well and I don't mind sharing if might help any one of you.  First, I am taking progesterone twice daily - I won't get into the how part of how I am taking it, but it should help raise my levels that were on the low normal side.  Second, I am doing a series of weekly iron shots to boost my iron levels.  Pregnant women should be in the range of 100-150 and I was only at 43 as of two weeks ago.  I am also eating red meat (something I have not done up until now) to help boost my levels.  And last, I have increased my vitamin D intake and am now taking 10,000 i.u.'s of it each day.  Progesterone, iron, and vitamin D are all very important in helping maintain a pregnancy and it is my intent to stay on top of my intake of all three. 

Also, I only had my hormone levels checked twice- the week that I found out I was pregnant and then 6 days later.  At that time, my HCG levels were doubling every two days like they are supposed to.  I opted to not go in for weekly blood tests to keep having those levels checked; it's an act of faith and trust for me.

Let me take this opportunity to say that if you are under the care of a doctor who is not listening to you and shows little to no concern for anything that you are concerned about, find a new doctor.  I have heard one too many stories about a doctor giving someone the run-around or making them feel like their concerns aren't valid or worth looking into.  I am fortunate to have a doctor who has journeyed with me since my first miscarriage and has been proactive in helping my body get healthier and stronger with the hopes of carrying a baby to term.  Each time I leaver her office I cry on the bus because I feel so thankful to the Lord for giving me such a compassionate and talented doctor.  Seriously, get out of your bad doctor relationship if you can and find someone who will listen to you and give you the kind of care you need and want. 

We have our first ultrasound for this baby on Tuesday, September 28.  I can't help but think of what my friend Melissa says about ultrasounds- "It's us taking an early peek at something that God is in the process of doing."  How true that is!  I feel conflicted about taking an early peek because ultrasounds can be scary and they can unnecessarily fill you with worry.......but they can also fill with you excitement and love for your baby.  I am hoping and praying for the latter, naturally.

I am asking for prayers of peace and reassurance that the Lord is in full and complete control and that whatever news befalls on Tuesday is in His control and because of His perfect plan.

Assuming we get good news, I'll share pictures on my next post!

Grow. Be Well.

We are happy to announce that we are expecting again.

Actually, we are happy/anxious/scared/thankful to announce that we are expecting again.  It's a gift we do not take lightly.  Nor is it one that we receive without baggage.

I have given blood beyond measure up to this point.  Hormone levels have been checked and rechecked.  There have been several doctor, nutritionist, and midwife visits.  Lab results are eagerly awaited and analyzed.   Plans and procedures are constantly being tweaked.  All of this to help us keep our little baby.  It brings me to tears when I think about all the efforts that have gone into helping this little life.

And yet we know that no earthly effort determines what happens to this baby.  Just like our babies before, this baby's life is in the hands of the One who gives life.  And that makes me cry, too.  They are tears of thankfulness.  Just knowing that this baby is known by GOD and that HE watches over our baby is of great comfort to me.

As a woman, I realize how fortunate I am to have gotten pregnant three times in ten months.  I am grateful that I can even get pregnant.  And yet I live in a constant state of longing for my babies that I have lost.  I love my Jack and Claire and I would have loved the chance to be there momma on earth.  There will always be that part of me that longs for what should have been.  It's been a hard, yet sweet, journey to both grieve the past and try to hope for the future.  This is a dance I know well. 

The day I found out that I was pregnant, the LORD gave me these words:  GROW.  BE WELL.  I believe these are words that I am to pray over my baby.

Whenever I am anxious; or scared; or resting in the knowledge that my baby is with me still, I pray that my baby grows and is well.

Grow baby.  Grow and let your momma delight in her swelling belly.  Grow and thrive.  Be well, sweet baby of mine.  Be well in my womb and let me see your beautiful face in May. 

Friends, we share this news not to seek your congratulations (you can congratulate us when a baby is in our arms) but to ask for your prayers.  Please join us in covering our baby in the prayer that he/she will GROW and BE WELL.


"Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old.  Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?  I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert."  Isaiah 43:18-19

Checking In With Myself

I am like a roller coaster- up and down with twists and turns. I think about my babies every day and try to find the meaning in losing them. Just so you know, even in finding some meaning there is no loss of tears shed or heartbreak felt.

Finding meaning- no matter how much- does not bring one to peace with death.

And I am a little loopy in my thinking from time to time. The other day I thought that if I cried hard enough I could bring a baby into existence with my tears. It feels stupid to admit that now, but in the moment it felt true. Really, really true.

I have been asked if I have hope. I don’t. I have no hope.

I don’t doubt that I will get pregnant again. My body has proven that it has no problem getting pregnant. I just don’t have hope that I can sustain a pregnancy. Yet I continue do what I can to help prepare my body should there be a third pregnancy but to me, it all feels to be in vain.

This journey has been hard and to say that sounds so cheap because it has been more than hard. It’s been daunting. perplexing. disheartening. agonizing.

And such ugliness has surfaced in me. I struggle with jealousy of my friends who are moms and think mean things like “If you don’t stop talking about your children right now I am going to hit you” or “How can you be so happy when I am so sad” or "You have a lot of nerve to be complaining about your kids to me."

Yuck. Who is this person?

It’s me. And I hate that.

I continue to struggle with relating to others. I find myself identifying people, particularly women, as “never lost;” “lost one;” “lost two or more;” etc. But even with those who have lost there is a chasm because everyone’s experience with loss is so different. 

I would venture to say that some have found it to be a bit too much in how I have grieved the loss of my babies. They think I have made much of that which is small to them.

I make no apologies for how I have grieved and continue to grieve for my sweet Jack and Claire. They were both once alive with beating hearts. And they are worth grieving over.

Where is God in this? 

I think He is in my pain; holding me in my crying convulsions; washing over me with His peace in my restless nights; whispering Truth to me in my unsure moments; pouring out His care for me through the care and words of others; and binding me up in His love. 

I feel Him in this.  I know He is in this. 

A Title Didn't Seem Important

Two babies were born into our family last week. Their arrivals were sandwiched in between a due date that came and went. That would be my first due date.

I hesitantly looked at the pictures that were e-mailed and it pained me to see a happy momma with her snuggly baby boy. It only made me realize more just what I lost on November 11, 2009. I lost not only the chance to carry my baby, but the chance to meet him and take lots of pictures of he and I. Together.

Some of had said to me. “Well it’s a good thing you didn’t already have children because then you would know exactly what you lost.”

Aside from the fact that this is an ignorant thing to say to any woman who has lost a baby, this is an all-together completely untrue thing to say.

Believe me, I do not need to have a child at home to know that I have lost two amazing gifts; two beautiful chances; two sweet what could-have-beens.

The agony I continue to feel on a daily basis tells me this.

Not Just An Ordinary Day for Me

Today would have been my due date for Jack.  There's nothing more to say because nothing I write or say can accurately reflect what is stirring in my heart.