Pregnancy & Infant Loss Remembrance Day

In 1988, President Ronald Reagan declared October as National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Month. Please light a candle at 7:00PM tonight to remember all of the angel babies. I know I will. The official site for this day can be found HERE.

Fall.

I have been SO READY for Fall to come. I know it technically came on Saturday, September 22nd but it hasn't FELT like Fall... until now.
Summer was hellacious and I mean that in every sense of the word: biggest draught our nation has seen in years, record high temperatures, loss and anger. I told Daniel I was beginning to understand why crimes rises in the hot months- the heat made me crazy. I needed-so desperately-a change.

When I went through something hard many summers ago, I remember wanting so badly for Fall to come. I believed it would bring some comfort along. I believed it would bring a change. I even believed it would bring a change in the spiritual I couldn't see. And it did.

I've been hoping for the exact same thing this year. Summer (late summer) has been tainted with sadness and despair for me and I've been wanting Fall to come so badly. I've been asking the Lord to let this be a NEW season for me and I've been anticipating it's arrival. This past Friday night the temperature dropped dramatically and I embraced the cool, rainy weather with open, happy arms. I believe the Lord is doing new things for Daniel and me in this season and I am eager to see how He works during this time.

Winter and Fall have always been my favorite seasons. I love scarves, gloves, fires, hot chocolate, and a few (if we are so lucky) snow days. I know being a teacher I should enjoy Summer most, but it's starting to leave a yucky place of reminders for me (I do believe the Lord can make even Summer new). I love watching the leaves change. I love Halloween decorations for children (not creepy adult decor), my birthday, Thanksgiving and Christmas- in that order. I love singing Christmas carols and everything revolving around that season as we celebrate our Lord. But mostly, I love how things (to me) seem to get still in the Fall & Winter. I love nothing more than a snowy night when everything is so still and so quiet. Those moments seem almost, to throw this word around: healing.

This is the word I am hinging my entire Fall season around: HEALING. I am eager to testify to His Glorious works as I see them unfold during this season. He is Good and His Love Endures.

Rejoice. Weep.

"Rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep." -Romans 12:15

I found out this weekend two of my friends are pregnant. I am happy for them. It is a joyful time in their life and I know they wait in anticipation to hold their sweet babies. I can rejoice for them. I trust the Lord will allow me to be gracious towards them during this time in their life.

I also wept this weekend because of the news. I wept because I don't understand why their babies are living and mine aren't. I don't at ALL want anyone's child to perish- yuck, I can't even think about wanting that or meaning that is how I feel. Rather, it is just hard to deal with my loss coupled with their gain. This news opened a can of worms I have tried so hard to keep shut: depression and fear. I know the Lord is capable of delivering me from these negative emotions, but at times, it feels like this journey won't ever end. And I know part of it won't- the memory of their tiny footprints they have left upon my heart.

Today, I am asking the Lord to swiftly deliver me from this depression. I am asking for help to rejoice with those who rejoice as He helps others weep with those who weep. I am asking for His gentle hand to be upon me every time a reminder comes my way that my babies' dwelling place is in Heaven, while other babies' are on this earth- I know He has made His dwelling place in my heart. And I am holding onto hope for the future.

Waiting Room ONE.

I finally feel like I might be dismissed from this waiting room. I will, of course, have to go into another, but this one's time is coming to an end... I think.

My thoughts to myself a couple of weeks ago:
I have made a decision to switch doctors. I need a fresh start and I need clarity from someone who will lend an ear and give me some extra TLC. If that makes me high maintenance right now, I don't care. It's America- we pay for our healthcare, so I want the best and that is that. God, please provide a good, new doctor and clarity to make that decision. You know me well. You know I will agonize over every detail. Make the answer clear. Please!

He did. The Lord landed me in Dr. Breniman's lap. The doctor's mission? "To be part of a clinic where Christ is preeminent." When I met with him 2 weeks ago he sat with me in his office for an hour. He didn't put me in a scantily clad robe in a freezing cold room and give me 5 minutes of his time. He brought me to his office, played plinky plunky music (F-R-I-E-N-D-S, anyone?) and listened.

With a new doctor, I feel as if I am getting out this waiting room. I keep thinking about Shane Bernard's song lyrics: **sitting in the waiting room of silence, waiting for that still soft voice I know, offering my words up to the rooftop to Your heart, trusting that this closet's where You are.** I have been in such a waiting room. My hCG levels still are high and my body thinks it's pregnant, which has brought an onset of other complications, and it has been so hard. Most women's bodies return to "normal" 4-5 weeks after a D&C... well, I will be at 7 weeks Monday, and it can't get to a "new normal" yet because I still have hCG in me (that is rare), and I am still experiencing post-surgery symptoms (usually those only last 4days to 3weeks max). I want out of this waiting room. The blessing of it all is this: the hormone levels are dropping. And when they get down to zero, I have a chance at a new normal.

For the first time since all of this, I have hope for the future, coupled with trying to live for today. A very dear friend and I were emailing back and forth yesterday, and she could relate to living for "today." She said, "God gives us grace for today. God doesn't give us grace to live in tomorrow, or next week, or next month, or next year. If we try to live there and be there mentally and emotionally, then we will live in a hurricane. All God gives is grace for today, to make it through this day, with this daily bread, and his grace is MORE than enough for this day. And the next day, the abundant grace starts all over again." Words. Of. Wisdom.  ... Words. To. Live. By.

From the beginning of my pregnancy I told the Lord when worries came I didn't want to use the doctors as my source of hope. I never wanted to go to an appointment and leave idolizing the doctors and their views/opinions. I know the Lord is the Ultimate Doctor. But, I also asked that He would allow them to be a conduit for my understanding of His ability in this, on this earth.

When I went to my new doctor, the Lord allowed just that. My new doctor is not God. But, He has a set of skills and knowledge I don't, and he can help me understand what is happening in the here and now which has brought me an ability to live more easily in the "today." He is running all the necessary tests, and he even has given me a "game plan" for the future. While this requires more waiting, it is a step forward. And I feel like I can breathe... literally. For the first time in a LONG time, I can breathe. I can't even begin to explain what it is like. It is still so very hard and I am still grieving, but I know there is hope in tomorrow and God's grace will abundantly supply me tomorrow as I sit in this waiting room TODAY. He has not left me. He will not change. He will remain the same yesterday, today and forever and because of that, I can live TODAY. He has allowed earthly people to be a conduit for His love, His grace and His mercy and as I put hope in tomorrow, He will sustain me TODAY.

A good, new blog friend said it is necessary to give thanks while grieving. I couldn't for awhile. Today, I can. Father, thank you for the people you have brought into my path along this journey. Thank you for a new doctor who loves you very much. Thank you for the sisterhood I found with other mothers who have experienced loss. Thank you for caring for them and letting us grieve together. Thank you for letting them help me in this. Thank you for the people who have reached out to me because of this blog. Thank you for the friends I have that have been real and consistent. Thank you that my words never go unheard. Thank you for my husband's support and love. Thank you for this day my daily bread as I sit in this waiting room.

San Diego

This past weekend and for a few days of this week, Daniel brought me along on a business trip to San Diego. It was exactly what I needed. Time away from Arkansas, a bayside hotel room with a kingsize bed, and the beach.

While there I was able to reflect a lot. (probably a little too much). But it was SO GOOD for me. I love San Diego, CA. And I loved extra time with my husband. This is what I looked at while he was working during the day:

I love the ocean. I love the sound of waves crashing along the beach. I love drifting in and out of sleep and I love looking at endless water. Today I am choosing to think about this big sea being a fraction of the love God has for me. We cannot even comprehend how wide, high, long and deep is the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge. I am praying, like Paul, that I will have a small glimpse of this love I know He has for me and that it will lull me to places of deep peace and sleep just like the waves of the ocean.

Depression, Insomnia & Hope to Carry On

Having a three day weekend at home with my husband was a big plus over the Labor Day Holiday. I was able to relax, recuperate, laugh and grieve. I laughed for the first time (like a real, belly-aching laugh) this weekend, too. Yes, it's only one laugh, but it's a start.

Along with the weekend I have been able to recognize a new emotion which has crept upon me: DEPRESSION. Of course, it has been there all along through this grieving process, but it's turning into real depression. And it sucks. My doctor and I decided (my primary care physician) if it continues to worsen, I will have to get on some medicine in a month or so. I am dealing with what is called, "Postpartum Depression after Miscarriage." Basically it is like Postpartum Depression (real depression that sets in after childbirth in some women- lasting a few months) coupled with the grief from the loss of a baby. I am praying very hard that it goes away. Not because I am too prideful to get on medicine. I will if I have to. But mainly because it flat out sucks -AND- I am hoping my whacky hormones are contributing to it so once they level out a bit, it will subside. I am also praying because I believe the Lord can deliver me from this...

I have been clinging to a lot scriptures during these dark times. Many of the scriptures I have been clinging to have been mailed to me almost daily by my dear friend Elisabeth. She has literally mailed me a bible verse at least 30xs since this happened and most times, they arrive on the right day.

Another onset of this trauma has been insomnia. I have clinical insomnia now. It blows. I am up at least half of the night. And we all know what it's like to not sleep. You look at the clock and think, "If I fall asleep NOW I'll get 4 hours... If I fall asleep NOW I'll get 3.5 hours..." and so on. The worst part isn't the not sleeping. It's the thoughts that accompany me while I lay there. I start going a little crazy. And no sleep adds to the depression and anxiety and makes living a somewhat functional life in the middle of grief very hard. 

But, even as I write this. I have hope. I have hope that I will get better. I have hope I will sleep again. I have hope that the Lord will deliver me from this peril I am in. Sometimes the hope is barely a mustard seed and when in the throws of deep depression there is no hope, but today (and on a continuum, I am beginning to always have some) I am hopeful. I am hopeful that my God who didn't spare His Own Son for me, will deliver me from this. I have heard from other women who have been in my shoes, He was/is faithful for them, too-I am not alone in these stages. Deliverance may come through medicine, it may come through time allowing my body to remember how to sleep and chemical imbalances and hormonal imbalances to level out, but I have hope. And hope is the reason I can press on in the middle of my darkest nights and darkest days.

"Rejoice in hope... and be constant in prayer." Romans 12:12

Held

This song pretty much sums up how I feel right now. I honestly can relate to every, single lyric in this song...

**Held by Natalie Grant**

Two months is too little, they let him go
They had no sudden healing
To think that providence
Would take a child from his mother
While she prays, is appalling

Who told us we'd be rescued
What has changed and
Why should we be saved from nightmares
We're asking why this happens to us

Who have died to live, it's unfair...

This is what it means to be held
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive...
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We'd be held

This hand is bitterness
We want to taste it and
Let the hatred numb our sorrows
The wise hand opens slowly
To lilies of the valley and tomorrow


This is what it means to be held
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive...
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We'd be held

If hope is born of suffering
If this is only the beginning
Can we not wait for one hour
Watching for our Savior


This is what it means to be held
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive...
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We'd be held

One month.

So today is the official "one month" mark since I learned about our babies' Heaven... It actually was not that bad of a day. I give myself permission to yell or cry later though. ;)

I have put a lot of pressure on myself when I realize it's only been one month. I have blogged a lot (as you all know), cried a lot, and expected a lot. Remember the post about clomid and our culture being one that wants instant gratification? I think I still struggle with this. I NEVER want to forget our Emma Kate and Sadler, but it's like I thought I would be a lot better by now. How silly. And realizing it is silly to put that burden on myself frees me up a bit. So, I might cry everyday for the rest of my life and I certainly won't ever be the same, and that is okay. Yes, the Lord IS and will continue to heal in a way only He can, but I will always be changed by this. So in light of change, here are some things that have changed in the past month:

1. I have dark brown hair. I feel like SJP in the movie "Sex in the City" (profound I know) when she was jilted by Big and grieved a lot. I look forward to when, like her, I will go back to my real color-blonde, and feel more like myself. My hair expresses how I feel and I kind of like that. (The black lipstick I long for would scare the Kindergarten students)
2. I began working out. I haven't stepped foot in a gym in FOUR years though I like being active by playing tennis, etc. I only go once a week so it hardly counts, but that is 4xs more than I was going. That's four times a month! And... this week I am going to go twice! -and dreading it, of course.
3. I started eating again (was too sad the first two weeks after the news). Took a couple of weeks, but I did it. I am back to enjoying crappy food and healthy food alike. Even though I am sad, I can eat through my tears.
4. I throw a toy around with my dog every day after school in the back yard. While it's somewhat of a chore for me, he loves it.
5. I started seeing a licensed, Christian counselor. She is wonderful. And she gives me permission to say really horrible things in that hour... I look forward to it every week.
6. My husband started traveling for work. Boo. 
7. I always look down when I am in public. Random one to include, but I just don't feel like looking at people anymore, so I don't. It's freeing. 
8. I've quit caring as much about what people think. This is super hard for me. But it is a nice change of pace.
9. I've started taking baths again. Like baths... obviously, I shower frequently. 
10. I don't wash my hair everyday anymore. I don't remember ever having "not washed my hair everyday" in my life. It's also freeing. 

Being Taught.

A friend who suffered a miscarriage text me today and said, "I know sometimes the reality is worse the more time passes- I know I felt further away from my baby as time went on and that just made it worse."
To be honest... I do feel farther from my babies as time passes. It's not because I want to, it is because the pain is still so real and intense it's like pushing them out of my mind helps me get through the day. When I talk to some women who have miscarried, say, 3+ years ago most of them reference their children as an "it." And/or some of them act like it is no big deal now. I don't feel this way. And I don't think I ever will. And, I don't want to skip part of this pain, learning, growing, healing in this FIRE I am in just to "get through the moment." Father, help me feel what I need to feel in this FIRE.
It's obnoxious how analytical I am---I have this irrational fear if I post something remotely "on the bright side" etc., people will think I am "better" or that I am moving on. This isn't so. And some days are still much harder than others. But today I can write about some things I am learning in this FIRE which are for the good.

For starters, I feel very near to the Lord right now. He never goes anywhere, but unfortunately, my heart trails off and finds other lovers sometimes. Right now, He is my life. I have talked to other women who have suffered grief (especially this grief) and they have said the same thing. They "never felt closer to the Lord." And even if I am pissed with Him or want to scream at Him for letting this happen, I still know He is near. Even Jacob wrestled with God. I mean WRESTLED. And yeah, God broke His hip, but that in itself shows intimacy. God had to be so ever near to Jacob to even break his hip. Then as if wrestling with God wasn't enough... Jacob asked for a blessing. A blessing.
I feel like Jacob right now. And I don't think that is a bad thing. I am wrestling with God and asking for blessings at the same time. And it is bringing intimacy.

I have also learned some things about trust and faith. Too much to write about here and too many thoughts to even begin to sort, but I can say this:
I believe trusting God does not mean you trust in vain that "everything will be okay" or "how you want it to be." And praying in, with and through faith (even laying on of hands for a miracle healing) doesn't control what God will or won't do or what He will or won't allow to happen. I think He allows some things to happen and others not to happen. For example, if I prayed for my husband to be safe and protected every time he stepped on an airplane, would it take much faith to assume then "he'll be okay, nothing will happen to him"? No. Because something might. And if it did, what did I trust in? My prayer or my God? And I don't think if something did happen to him- say the plane crashed- it is because I did or didn't pray the right thing. I think it just happened. Or for example, lets say a mom assumed her son would be okay every time she prayed for him (he won't get leukemia, he won't be kidnapped, he won't/will fill-in-the-blank) if she assumed God answered the prayer by allowing her son to be "okay" she would be assuming she could control the mind of God... and in essence, relying on herself or her prayer... which leaves no room for real faith or real trust. I think the faith part of this whole deal comes in knowing God will take care of us no matter what. And the trusting comes with knowing whatever does happen, He will help us through it. I don't say this to be debbie downer, but it is life. Really shitty things happen. But God is not too small for any of them. And nothing can separate us from His love which knows no end...

It is not wrong to ask for prayers of protection (etc) and have hope the Lord will answer the prayers you wish He would etc., but I believe to walk in faith and trust Christ means that when the valleys come (in this world YOU WILL HAVE TROUBLE -Jesus) God is still enough. He still loves us. He still cares. And HE is the only one who knows all things. Only He can allow "even what the enemy (satan) intended for evil to be used for good." -book of Genesis. Should you still pray in faith? Of course. Should you still hope? Yes. God commands us to do both.

I don't want to assume I have it all figured out. I don't. I am learning. I am being refined. And yes, it is through FIRE I am being refined, but on the other side of this, I pray and hope I come out as gold. While in this fire, Father, help me survive.

Loneliness

I have forgotten what it is like to sleep. I mean really sleep. I have certainly taken it for granted before and would give anything to peacefully rest for 7-8 hours. Instead my nights are filled with fitful nightmares and/or bad dreams, hours looking at the clock, tears of frustration, and tears shed longing to hold my babies. I "woke" up this morning at 8:30AM-thank you for very much for not sleeping in on Sunday-only to realize the last time I looked at the clock it was 3:30AM. Nice. A night when the pressure is off (i.e. no work today) and I manage a mere 5hours of fitful sleep.

Upon "waking up" this morning, I felt crazy. I am beginning to feel crazy sometimes. I think it is due to a crap-load of things, but I know the lack of sleep is only intensifying them. Here are some other reasons I feel crazy:
Pre-Pregnancy, I already struggled (still struggle) with clinical anxiety.
Pregnancy makes you have weird hormones and makes you crazy.
Loss of Pregnancy makes you feel crazy. And I don't say that in jest or to minimize the other feelings it brings on... (grief, anger, sadness, frustration, etc. etc. etc.) 
And, oh yeah, did I mention my body is still recognizing itself as "pregnant?" What a peach. I have never prayed so hard for a period in my life. I want these hormones OUT OF ME... Knowing they are for naught right now makes me extra bananas. And in this craziness and loss, I feel lonely.

I re-posted Megan's post from http://oneemerald.blogspot.com/  this morning called "Members Only" in which she describes how knowing the pain of loss in miscarriage can only be found in those who have experienced it. Please read the post- I feel the EXACT SAME way.

I feel so very lonely during all of this. No one at my church has experienced this loss. No one at my work has come forward and told me they have experienced this loss except one sweet woman I have just met. (I work with 50+women...surely I am not alone??) None of my close friends (in close, physical proximity) have experienced this loss. And while I wouldn't wish this loss on my very worst enemy, It is VERY lonely to go through this alone.  No one understands the pain unless they have been through it.
**Side note: I am not negating pain. No way. Pain is pain and grief is grief... But there is an unfortunate, as Megan said, exclusivity that accompanies this pain and grief.**

And I feel (key word: feel) like people expect me to be better... it's been 3 weeks since the doctor showed us a lack of heartbeats. But how can anyone quickly recover from the pain of death? It is DEATH. It is a LOSS. It is FINAL. And it f'ing SUCKS.

I have some wonderful friends who have not forgotten about me- they have been consistent and even persistent in making sure I am alive (when I don't reply-Jilly Bean). A dear friend sent me a text yesterday and said this: "...I know you are still so deep in your pain and hurt and I still am so very sorry. I love you." Thank you for that text. Thank you for acknowledging I am not yet "better" and thank you for still praying for me. You know who you are and I love you so.
To those who have continued to stick by me: Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Your friendships mean more than you will ever know and I say that with the utmost sincerity.

And if anyone out there has experienced the loss of a baby, I am so very sorry. I am so very sad for you. And if you are like me, right now you are longing for Heaven. The day your sweet child will meet you at the gates and run and jump in your arms. And it will be a beautiful, perfect day. 

One Emerald: Members Only

She is able to again sum up what I am feeling today.
One Emerald: Members Only: There's something about exclusivity that makes something more desirable. Even as little kids we form "clubs" so that only our best and trues...

One Emerald: Grieving Thomas

Praise God for your blog, Megan. And praise Jesus for your insight with this post.

One Emerald: Grieving Thomas: There’s a story in the scriptures about a man name Thomas who loved and knew Jesus. Even if you don’t know much about Bible stories, you’ve ...

More than we can bear.

I am not a theologian, but I do feel like I have been given some insight and would like to write about what I am learning. If someone finds the following false, please feel free to email me. I want to keep growing in Truth.

I keep hearing throughout all of this, "God will not give you more than you can bear," however, I cannot find this anywhere in Scripture. I think it is actually unbiblical to say that statement. When things  get really hard for people, we like to say the above statement as a form of comfort. I have said it before. People say it to me now ALL. THE. TIME. But, I am just not sure it is true. I have searched for a Scripture that might indicate this and have yet to find one. When did this become the Christian norm to say? It's like most of the church has adopted this as sound theology. In fact, my friend text me the other night and told me (w/out me addressing the issue) she, too, thought it was completely unbiblical to say "God won't give us more than we can handle." In the sense of trusting God to see us through things-even the worst things- for me, the loss of my two children- we can, however, hold onto the hope implied from the statement. Instead in Scripture I find this: "Though He slay me; yet, I will trust in Him" (Job 13), "In this world you WILL have troubles" (John 16) "Pick up your cross and follow me" (Luke 9, Matthew 16) "Be patient in tribulation" (Romans 12), "Sufferings produce endurance" (Romans 5) And so on and so on....

I see the opposite of that statement being true. I have been dealt more than I can handle. You can ask my husband- I am not "handling" any of this well. God's grace is getting me through. And to quit believing that statement has helped me trust the Lord more. Because when I lived by the statement, I kept asking God "why would you give me this?".  I just don't think He did. And I don't think He expects me to handle it well. It just sucks. And, I need to hold onto real truth in this time... as I am being bombarded with arrows from the evil one continuously. "It's your fault"; "God doesn't love you"; "If you would have had more faith, they would have lived"; "God doesn't care about your prayers" and on and on... Sometimes I feel like I am drowning in these thoughts. Thank you for praying against them.

So these are the things I can find to be true and Scripturally sound: God loves me. (I don't love myself well.) God cares about me. (I feel selfish caring about me.) God allows things to happen, but it doesn't mean He caused them. God is in control. (I am NOT in control.) God knows all things. (I don't know all things.) And God has not and will not allow us to be tempted beyond what we can bear. But in this verse, there is a difference in what we can handle vs. temptations. 

I am choosing to trust God with this mustard seed of faith.

to pray.

I have a lot of thoughts. Lots. I cannot sort through enough of them to properly write much of anything right now, but I would like to share some verses and ask if you read this, to pray them for my husband and for me. Obviously, the circumstances were different for Paul, however, I feel as if I can really relate to this.

"For we do not want you to be ignorant, brothers, of the affliction we experienced in Asia (or for us: in Arkansas). For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself. Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead. He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. (Oh God, please deliver Daniel and I from this pain and despair). On him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again. You also (please!) must help us by prayer, so that many will give thanks on our behalf for the blessing granted us through the prayers of many."
2 Corinthians 1:8-11

The World Goes On...

I started work on Monday. This is the week all faculty and staff attend a thousand meetings, plan schedules, arrange classrooms and leave mentally and physically exhausted everyday. I could not handle going back to work so soon. It has been so overwhelming and so hard. I couldn't make it through full days on Monday & Tuesday. And yesterday, I really felt like I was exploding on the inside. People kept talking about the upcoming year and all these things that while I am sure they are important, I don't care about right now. It was like they were talking Chinese and I was just nodding my head- pretending to listen. Pretending to hear. Instead on repeat was, "Your babies did not make it. You were suppose to be sharing the news of your pregnancy this week. Now, you are so sad and forced to be here. Your babies did not make it. Your babies did not make it." Sometimes I feel like I am going crazy. The icing on the cake is the girl who is beginning to show and has a due date 3 days before mine. Seeing her rub her belly and everyone rave in excitement over her joy makes me want to hide in a hole until everyone leaves the room. Watching her belly grow and looking down realizing mine is, if anything, shrinking has been so hard.

People say getting back into a "routine" should help me. And maybe on some levels it is. It forces me to brush my teeth and hair, put on a little makeup (if I am so inclined), and do things. But is that really helpful? Why do we have this general notion that forced activity "helps" us? Why does our society make us feel like we are "getting better" if we do things required of us? As if I am not already being asked much of by God. I told someone the other day I just wish God didn't ask this of me. I am beginning to trust Him again (and I can't really say, even despite my extreme anger at times, that I fully quit trusting Him; rather, the confusion and anger were, and sometimes still are, so overwhelming. I know God doesn't give us more than we can handle. (Amended statement here [8.18.12] perhaps I didn't find comfort in that bc I didn't really ever believe it and I think it is not biblical- see my post here). But that is for me to know and the Spirit of God, Himself, to impress upon my heart. Don't tell me that. When other people tell me that in a dismissive, disingenuous way, I want to slap them and then say, "When you lose twins, your precious babies, come and tell me that." If you love God, pray for me. Ask Him to do the rest. Pray scriptures over me. Send me encouraging verses. And if you do say something "encouraging" to me, please only say it if it is heart felt. I don't really have many expectations of people during this time. No one knows what to say and that is okay. And for the most part, I give people grace when they say dumb things... The Lord will heal the hurts of others' words. **Note: dear friends reading this blog, you have been the ones getting me through this. And I appreciate you all and your words. I am talking about strangers and acquaintances.**

However, I am beginning to HOPE again. I am beginning to really believe that as Paul writes in Romans, "hope does not disappoint." I am beginning to believe if God asked this much of me, He will see me through it. He has to. And He already has this far. God, please continue to HELP me in all of this. I know you are big enough to handle my emotions when my own heart deceives me. I know you can handle my anger. Holy Spirit, breathe LIFE into me. Speak TRUTH over the enemy's yells. Breathe peace that really does SURPASS knowledge into my heart. Help me, Father. I trust you.

"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope." Romans 15:13
"Now HOPE does NOT DISAPPOINT, because the LOVE of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us." Romans 5:5

Psalm 139

Taken from Psalm 139.

To my children with all my love. 
Love, Mommy. 

He created your inmost beings. He knit you both together in my womb- your mommy's womb. I praise God because you both were fearfully and wonderfully made and you both were perfect. I know His works are wonderful. I want to know that full well. For your frames were not hidden from Him when you were made in the most secret place of my womb; when you were woven together in the depths of the earth. His eyes saw your unformed bodies and all the days ordained for you were written in His book of Life before one of them came to be. You both are in Heaven now and you both are very loved. 

Details.

The following describes what happened during our last and few doctor visits. I need to write about it. You don't have to read it. This, like really any other post, is to help me.

The first time we went to the doctor, we were in shock. Because of my hormone levels prior to becoming pregnant, the doctor requested I get blood work done when I finally got a positive on that test. They drew blood to check my hCG and progesterone. This happened on a Thursday. Monday morning the nurse called me and told me to come in that day. No choice. I had to be there. I could tell there was worry in her voice. It was the first day of my husband's new job so I was so scared... I figured I would have to go alone.  His lovely boss insisted he be there with me. So he came. 

Upon our arrival, we were sent to the 11th floor of the hospital where the ultrasound technology center is. (Basically a souped up ultrasound enabling the doctor to see what regular ultrasound machines can't). While laying on the table the doctor asked me how far along I was. "4 weeks, but they said my levels are really high." She looked on the ultrasound for what seemed like forever. Silence. "Is everything okay?" I asked. She replied, "Well, you look a little farther along than that...and I am seeing more than one baby." I had the typical reaction. Shock. My husband on the other hand was so excited- my excitement was soon to follow- it was just a lot to digest at the moment. She then starting pointing to our little babies. "See, there is one, we'll call it Baby A and there is the other, we'll call it Baby B. You are measuring to be 7 weeks 4 days." Remember the nurse's worry when she called? She thought I was actually having a molar or chemical pregnancy because my hCG and progesterone were so high. But instead, I was twice as far along with twice as many babies. She didn't tell me that until after she heard the good news- she was so happy for me and even more happy her suspicions were wrong. 

Thrilled. We left elated. Not only was I twice as far along as I had suspected without really even feeling too sick, we had twice as many babies, twice as many blessings and twice as much joy. I couldn't sleep that night. It felt like the night before Christmas. The joy overwhelmed my husband and me. 

Almost 2 weeks later we had our first, real OB check up with my OBGYN. She, too, wanted to do an ultrasound to see our sweet babies. It was amazing. They were 9 weeks old and just perfect. Sadler, our little boy, was upside down frantically waving his already developed arms and legs and wiggling as fast as he could. His sister, Emmie, was right side up in typical fetal position scooting eagerly away from her brother. He was already getting on her nerves. Daniel and I both laughed and cried a little, too. They reminded us of each other. Daniel is so happy-go-lucky (especially in the mornings) and while I, too, can be hyper myself, overall, I am the more melancholic one of the two of us. And do not mess with me in the mornings. I felt our sweet Emmie's annoyance with cute, hyper Sadler. Our doctor explained once you see good, strong heartbeats the chances of miscarrying are much smaller. She didn't make any empty promises but said our babies looked very good and very healthy. 

Today I was suppose to go in for my 13.5 week check up. (She wanted to see me again in 4 weeks from our last appointment). Instead, I went in last Friday. The. Worst. Day. Ever. I've said it before, but I HATE July. I want to write so much profanity around that blasted month... I save those words for my personal journal. And there, I don't hold back one damn bit.

I went in last Friday because I was, again, having some slight spotting. (Daniel was at work so he didn't come and there wasn't much reason for concern, plus he would be coming with me to the appointment I was suppose to have today). I figured she would tell me what she told me last time I had spotting. No activity of any sort for 2 weeks- feet elevated- take it very easy. 

I was a little over 12 weeks. Some pregnant would refer to my gestational period as being in the "beginning of my 13th week." That's so stupid. I want to remember my babies at exactly the age they were. Why do pregnant women rush their pregnancies? It serves no purpose. My doctor did a normal OB check up and said things looked good. She then said, "Let's go have a look at the babies for peace of mind." Peace of mind- what a stupid, stupid term- we have yet to find that. She did an abdominal ultrasound and didn't say much and I couldn't see much either. I am petite, however, and figured she needed to do one using the TV probe. (google it, don't wanna write ab it). I saw my babies immediately and although I am not a doctor, mommies know what to look for. That flicker on the screen. That tiny bright, white light that flickers so quickly. It's a heartbeat. I frantically, with panic in my voice said, "where are the heartbeats." And she just said, "I am so sorry." Laying on a cold table in a dark, freezing room I watched my hopes and dreams fall far far away. She held my hand and said, "It is nothing you did or didn't do. We don't understand why, but these things happen." 

I called Daniel. Before bursting into tears I got out, "We lost our babies." Why did I say that? Why do people say that term "lost/losing babies?" They didn't go anywhere. They weren't lost. They were laying still in my womb. They were VERY much THERE. The doctor then took the phone and explained to him what I couldn't through my sobs: they were no heartbeats.

He rushed straight to the hospital and my OBGYN sent us upstairs to the fancy ultrasound to confirm- to make sure sure our babies were now angel babies. I knew they were before we went in that room. I didn't look at the screen when the fancy ultrasound was done. I didn't want to see our babies laying lifelessly both on their backs. I wanted to remember them as they were: Sadler dancing upside down and Emmie nestled right side up. 

I have decided to only remember them that way. I keep begging for God to take the image of them on their backs out of my head. He hasn't. 

Monday, I went in for the D&C. Supposedly because of twins, you have twice as much of everything in you. When the doctor finished the surgery, she came out of the O.R. to tell Daniel how the procedure went. I lost too much blood and a transfusion was looking very likely. The twins had twice as much tissue, etc., and my body just wouldn't stop bleeding. Hearing that sounds like a mean joke. It's extra shitty. "Oh yeah, not only did two babies die, but because you had the double blessing of two, I am going to make the recovery time twice as hard, too. Just in case you forgot: You lost two babies." I wonder if that is what God is thinking sometimes. I know it's not, but I can't help and wonder that. 

Luckily (I guess), I didn't end up needed someone else's blood. I just had to stay in the hospital longer and the recovery time is a little longer, too. Again- you know, just to remind me of what we did actually lose. 

For my husband's sake, I am glad I made it through surgery fine despite the few complications. 

I don't know a proper closure to this entry. Rather, I just needed to write about it. Now questions are answered. Hopefully the coming posts will reveal a small mark of healing and believing again ... a track record of sorts (i hate that term, but for lack of better).... but for now it's raw, authentic pain. 

Anger.

I am overwhelmed by anger. Overwhelmed with it because it is not the only emotion I am feeling. If I was only feeling grief, then maybe I could handle the grief. But I am feeling sadness, fear, worry, confusion, anger and sometimes-even numbness. How do you handle so many emotions at once? And why would God ask me to? Anger has overwhelmed me.

He tells us to pray. He tells us to pray for things in His Will. Is a child's life not something in His Will? Is protection over their health and safety not something that pleases Him?

The logical/theologically sound side of me knows He doesn't answer our prayers the way we wish He did, but then why the hell pray? Was it all for naught? It certainly seems that way. And I know no one here on this earth knows what to say to make it better. I don't expect them to. It wouldn't be fair of me. But why do people who have experienced no suffering say things like "It will get better." They don't know. They haven't dealt with this. And it's trite. I don't want to hear that. I know they are trying to help, but I don't believe it will. I don't know how to trust God anymore. There is no point. I know trusting God means surrendering and letting things out of our control be in His. But isn't part of that trust assuming He'll take care of us? Or in a child-like manner assuming it will all be okay? I understand that sort of trust is in vain now. But why lead me through this to understand it. And why do I have friends that have perfectly healthy babies and pregnancies and they didn't have to learn this lesson? Was I in some deep sin and God wanted to play a mean joke on me to "wake me up?"

And why do this to my husband. He is practically a saint. Writing about him will only make me fall apart. He is the best man I have ever met. And he doesn't deserve this.

And I know we "don't deserve" anything. But surely this even is considered undeserved.

God, help me to trust you when I want to slap you. Help me believe you when I think you are a liar. Help me believe despite my unbelief.

You are good. Let me believe that.

Emmie & Sadler

We both believe in our hearts we had a little girl and little boy for a short while on this earth. From the moment we found out we were having twins, we have been praying for their names. Of course we had many arguments regarding which name was best and we envisioned many names of our own, but our desire has always been to choose a name we believe the Lord confirmed.

In my heart, I believe my little girl's name is Emma Kate. We call her Emmie for short. It wasn't even on our list of names, but I know it was impressed upon my heart for a reason. She is so beautiful.

God revealed a name to Daniel, too. Sadler. Our precious, little boy is named Sadler and he is perfect.

Today has been so hard. I cannot put into words all of the emotions running through my mind, but I can think about one thing: my babies are in heaven. They met Noah. They saw his great, big boat and are enthralled with it! I'm sure they have many secret hiding spots inside that great, big boat. And at night they aren't scared. They don't fear darkness- there is no darkness in heaven. They are amidst the light of the world. Angels tuck them in there. They have many friends. Some were already waiting for them.
They get to sit on the lap of Jesus. For He even said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these."

Today, while we grieve and while we are so saddened by this loss, we find comfort knowing they are there.

Our Angel Babies

12 weeks. 12 weeks 2 days. It was suppose to be safe to tell the world we were pregnant. The online pregnant community (which I secretly despise) would say 12wk2d. I was suppose to anticipate calls from friends and family with their congrats. Congrats on “TWINS!” they would have said. We sent out letters knowing they would arrive when we reached the 12week mark. The “safe” mark. Instead, I had the worst day of my life. My husband did, too. Something was off. But nothing that caused great concern for me and of course not for my husband- the rock and pragmatic one throughout this all… Nevertheless I called the doctor. (It was a Friday). “We have no openings but I can put you through to the nurses hotline,” the receptionist said. Within one hour the nurse called back. “After hearing your symptoms I think you should come in right now.” (My “symptom” was light spotting- not enough cause for a great concern, but through my tears this nurse had compassion on me and fit me in immediately). So I went straight to the doctor. I went alone. I went because they wanted me to. I went because my husband needn’t have worried. I went because. . .

12weeks 2days, 12wk2d, I should have been in the clear. I should have had a moment of joy seeing their little heartbeats again. The “silly” one dancing with his arms and legs upside down (his preferable choice) and the “calm” one in typical fetal position resting the way she liked to (right-side up). Not today. Not this day. No, instead, I saw two sweet, angel babies lying on their backs with no movement. I saw every, single mother's worst nightmare: my babies were no longer living and dancing (or snuggling, sweet baby B- baby girl) in my womb. They were very much there, but their Spirits were in heaven.

I want to write about the grief. And the anger. I will. I will soon. I need to. But today, I need to write that it is not fair. It is not okay and even though the Lord WILL turn these ashes into beauty, I cannot see that now. Have I had glimpses? Yes? But my reality? No.

I hate July.

Tomorrow they will take my babies out of me. Sleep sweetly in the arms of your Savior my dear, precious children. We love you so deeply. We know you both are in the arms of your Savior and you did not experience the pain of this world.

We are experiencing it for you. 

CLOMID.

Our culture tells us we can have virtually anything we want, when we want it. Want a new car but can't afford it? Pay a small downpayment and then continue to pay it's depreciating value monthly. A house with that extra bedroom? Stretch your pennies. New clothes on a tight budget? Just put it on the credit card. It's such a culture of instantaneous gratification and if we can't have something we want right now- life isn't fair. It's almost like we don't know what to do with ourselves. We text when someone doesn't answer the phone (that'll show them). We look on Facebook when we haven't talked to our friends and we need to know what is going on in their life. We buy a better car to show our neighbors we can compete too.

For me and my heart (and I suspect most women's hearts)... the same issue occurred with the thought of children. I want one NOW. And if I can't have one NOW, God is being rude or unjust. When I went to the doctor earlier this Spring, she slammed me with a plethora of horrible options as to why I wasn't getting pregnant (immediately of course, because we want things immediately). Perhaps I didn't ovulate. If I did ovulate, she told me (based on a conjecture, not any tests) I probably produced bad eggs and would certainly miscarry on my own. Girls know going to this doctor is extremely vulnerable. You're already wearing nothing but a tiny sheet in a cold room with your legs in stirrups and the whole experience is just awkward. And then to be slammed with silly opinions based on unfound logic all the while sitting practically naked and exposed, really did me in that day. Immediately I switched doctors. And I wanted to slap her in the face to be perfectly honest. I refrained. 

I went to a doctor in Little Rock and she ran appropriate test to find the cause for my inability to get pregnant. Upon her first try, she found I did not ovulate on my own. While this is the "best" of the worst problems to have (because they say it's easily fixed), it was a really hard day for me. I felt like less of a woman. I felt like I had let my husband down, my body down, and that God was punishing me for past mistakes. I hate bad theology- unfortunately, I carry around with me like glue sometimes. My option at that point was Clomid. Clomid is not an antibiotic and it does not guarantee pregnancy; basically it's an estrogen inhibitor and allows women who do not ovulate on their own, the chance to do so. It is not dangerous, it is not a guarantee to getting pregnant, it basically allows people like me to do what other women due naturally: ovulate. 

My husband and I really wanted to pray about taking this medicine. We wanted to acknowledge that if we did take the medicine we still had to TRUST the Lord. Perhaps he would allow the medicine to open my womb, but ultimately it was/is HIS hand and HIS timing that will allow me to get pregnant. I learned a lot during those months up to and even after the testing, about how I really am not in control. I hate learning this lesson repeatedly, but I think with fertility, it really allows this lesson to hit home with me. It is a lasting lesson learned. And, while I want to be in control, I am realizing how much better life is with the Lord being in control. Sometimes my flesh thinks it sucks, but even in those moments, the Spirit is very kind to show me the Lord's mercy and grace. When a woman wants a baby and she thinks this is her God-given right, it is a constant death to the flesh to realize it's really not. It is a blessing from the Lord. Period. He doesn't owe me anything. And while it would be a delightful blessing, He knows what is best for me. My best interest is within His heart. Even if that means learning a lot in the process, because if that makes me more like Him, again, it is the closet I can come to truly knowing Him on earth. I don't know if those last sentences sum up what I mean, but I hope they do, because I really believe Christians walk around looking at other people's lives assuming they must have done something wrong to earn their fate or done something right for that matter. Really the Lord does as He pleases and it is for our Good- to become more like Him and nearer to Him in the process as He is the only thing that can satisfy. Praise the Lord. 

Surprise Old Man

This past weekend we flew to Minnesota to celebrate my dad’s 70^th birthday (surprise party style). While living to 70 is an accomplishment for really anyone, my dad’s is quite significant. He is a survivor of cancer (lymphoma), which he was diagnosed with at age 64 and again at age 66, as well as survivor of quadruple bypass surgery (though is skinny). We were all very happy to celebrate him. It was fun to have some of his family and friends all the way from Belgium to attend as well as his four kids all in one place... 

                                   In the airport with husband- on our way!

                                       My nephew and I on the plane

                           Dad with his four kids (Aly, Pascale, me, and Bernard)

                                       Dad blowing out his birthday cake.

The Most Bizarre School Year

Yesterday, I said goodbye to my sweet Kindergarten students. I had the privilege of spending the past 9 months with the little ones. It was the most interesting year I have had teaching thus far...

To say the least, one of my students was asked:

And he responded with this:

I am so glad I left such a lasting impression with these children. :) And, as a sweet thank you from one of my parents, I received this "End of the Year" thank you gift:

I know... What in the world is that? Oh you know, the usual gift- vintage cigarette cards from Europe. I'm still so confused... It would only be an appropriate "gift" coming from this particular class.... 

A baby?

We are not pregnant. But, I do feel like posting about this subject soon. So stay tuned. We have been through some things worth sharing (if you read this) and believe the Lord is leading us in this process. Sharing about this requires vulnerability. I don't owe it to the internet community, but I think it might help me to write about it. 

Stay tuned...

Alarm Clock Fail

First, you need to know I hate getting up in the morning. When I was a freshman in college my best friend Jill and I would start our mornings saying, “Good morning, $#%*!” because we had always slept through our alarms… and we were always late to class –or- if you can imagine, looking our finest…

Well, I am now teaching Kindergarten, which requires me to be places (like school) in a timely manner…I have moved to a new house enabling me to get to school in 15minutes. This means, I have to leave the house at 7:15AM not ONE minute later. On this particular morning, I was already having a terrible week and of course, I woke up late. In fact, I woke up at 7:15AM allowing me 5minutes to brush my hair, change, etc., and still be 5 minutes (at best) late for work.

So let’s catch up to speed. Literally. After zooming through my house, I ran into the car and tried to back out of the driveway… of course, there would be 5 cars disabling me to leave in a timely manner. After the dirt truck passed my house (no he didn’t stop and let me in front of him and mind you, we have a stop sign right in front of my house, so he could have stopped just a few yards sooner) and decided to go 10 mph down the mile long road I have to go down to get to the highway, I decided (naturally, of course) to, as he turned left, give him the “bird” (or finger) as I turned right. Seemed like a marvelous idea. Freeing even… However, I did feel shame as I looked in my rearview mirror and saw the person behind me shaking his head in disapproval. I felt shame for two seconds then decided he had probably done this before and I continued to drive like a bat out of hell. This particular man decided to cut in front of me: not a good idea on this morning. So again, naturally, I decided to zoom past him and get back in front of him. This lead to a game of “chicken” and I decided to end it by speeding up as fast as I could (and with other cars allowing me), pass him, and slam on my breaks. I know you’re thinking… and then I wrecked. Nope. Worse. (To me on this day).

Lights started flashing and he revealed his true colors: that of an undercover cop. Immediately, panic rushed through me. Not because I am particularly nervous about tickets or even getting pulled over (believe it or not, I haven’t had a wreck that was my fault, nor have I received a traffic ticket. Fine, yes. Ticket, no.) but because he had seen me at my worst. Like, absolute worst.

I also didn’t think about all the wrong I had done or plan an excuse. Instead, I decided I would be irritated with God because I seemingly always get caught. And in that same moment, His rod upheld me through this police officer. After the officer did the infamous “knock on the window” I began to get my license, registration, etc., and he immediately said, “Ma’am, I don’t need any of that. I just need you to know it’s going to be okay.” I looked at him with tears in my eyes and began to say I was sorry and I was late for work, etc., and instead he cut me off and asked me to take a deep breath. 3 of them in fact. THREE. And he watched me to make sure they were real, deep breaths. Then he told me to go to work and promise I would “know everything would be alright.” I remembered God in this moment, how I so often deserve punishment, but He provides Grace & Mercy over and over again. Since this particular morning, I have learned a lot about how He sustains me. I also haven’t flipped off any other cars nor have I gotten pulled over…

My *Our* Blog...

I have debated on whether or not to have a blog and if so, agonized over what I would (or wouldn't) write about. For me, social media (and yes, I think blogs are a form of that) are total stumbling blocks. As a female, while some of my time spent on Facebook, instagram and the like is fun, it often includes the thoughts, “I wish I had that!” –or- “Why wasn’t I invited to that party?” –or, better yet- “They look so happy and like things are so perfect!” Yet, and perhaps this is just a total justification, I think it is a great way for my family (like the ones living in Belgium, Seattle, and Minneapolis) and friends to keep in touch. I am going to try my hardest to write about things I think are worth sharing. I don’t think anyone wants to know when I got up, what I had for breakfast or every facet of my life. If you do, you won’t find that here as you probably are close enough to me to know those things and/or if you aren’t, they probably aren’t things you need to know. That quote "Comparison is the thief of joy" stands true, right?