Sharing with You All

This evening I popped on over to one of my very favorite blogs.  Raechel Myers has inspired me from the very first time I read a post on "Finding my Feet".  She, like me, struggles with carrying a baby.  And....they lost their baby girl Evie only hours after she was born.  Just a few weeks ago, she found herself unexpectedly pregnant.  Like me, pregnancy does not bring her joy.  It brings fear.  It should not be like this, but...I so know where she is coming from.  You can read her post here in it's entirety.  I identify with so very many of her feelings.  On Sunday, we'll celebrate Elliott's second birthday without him here on this earth.  The pain is getting a little less, but the memories, oh...they are still so very fresh.  

Another One

These last four weeks have been hard for a dear friend of mine and her family.  We grew up together and the Mama (Marj) of this family babysat for my sister and I while our Mom worked....we are all like siblings.  About four weeks ago Stacy, pregnant with her first baby after trying for so long had her 20 week ultrasound.  That ultrasound did not provide them with exciting news as it should have.  They learned their baby was a girl, but...her growth was at least two weeks behind where it should have been.   When you get news like this it hits you like a huge punch in the gut....one that takes the breath right out of you.  Trust me.  I certainly know what it feels like.  Marj works with me and had been sharing baby girl's progress with me.  I knew that our Jesus wanted me to encourage Stacy.  But, I got busy and time got away from me until she had another Dr's appointment and I felt Him speaking to me even stronger than before.  I gathered my thoughts and sent her a text.  Our Jesus knew.  She was having a bad day and it was exactly what she needed.   Through those four weeks she had many ups and downs....good days and bad.  I continued to send her scripture, encouragement or whatever Jesus laid on my heart.  Eventually, she was admitted to the hospital to await delivery of her baby until she was viable.  Those of us who have lost babies hate that word.  It makes you cringe.  Unfortunately, little girl had decels in her heart rate and Stacy was wheeled in for an emergency c-section last Friday.  Little girl was actually a little boy.  Gabriel Raymond weighed just 13 oz and was the very same length as our Elliott, 9 1/2".  He was prefect in every.single.way.  And such a miracle.  He entered this world crying which no baby that little ever does.  He was a fighter and his name is such a testimony of that. Little Gabriel only lived for 24 hours.  Those hours were filled with hugs and kisses from his Mommy, Daddy, Oma, Opa & Grandparents.  He was so loved.

On Tuesday, Gabriel's Oma, Marj, came back to work.  She stood in front of all of her co-workers and shared Gabriel's story.  One of courage. Gabriel means "God is my strength".  That is so true.  Marj shared all of this with us. What a testimony.  She went on to explain her Bible reading that morning and how the Angel Gabriel was center-stage in that reading.  There were lots of tears that day.  But, so many, many seeds that were planted.  Over the past nine months that office has experienced not one, but now two very similar instances.  They know Jesus is a big part of my life and Marj's.  And they are learning how our Jesus is faithful to carry us through these times.  And in the words of Dr. Suess "A person's a person, no matter how small".  We'll share our thoughts and pictures of both Elliott and Gabriel because they are a part of our story.  One that shapes us and makes us who we are today.

Please pray for Mike & Stacy and their extended family.  Their hearts are breaking right now.  I'm reminded of this verse and what it meant to us during this time.  What a reminder.

If you only look at us, you might well miss the brightness.  We carry this precious Message around in the unadorned clay pots of our ordinary lives.  That's to prevent anyone from confusing God's incomparable power with us.  As it is, there's not much chance of that.  You know for yourselves that we're not much to look at.  We've been surrounded and battered by troubles, but we're not demoralized; we're not sure what to do, but we know that God knows what to do; we've been spiritually terrorized, but God hasn't left our side; we've been thrown down, but we haven't broken.  What they did  to Jesus they do to us-trial and torture, mockery and murder; what Jesus did among them, he does in us-he lives!  Our lives are at constant risk for Jesus' sake, which makes Jesus' life all the more evident in us.  While we're going through the worst, you're getting in on the best! 2 Corinthians 4:7-12 (Message)

Gratitude

This my friends may be hard for some of you to read.  I hope you plug on through and try, just try to understand my heart and where I am coming from.  I have been pregnant four times.  Yes four.  I have not once brought that baby home from the hospital with me.  I do not have five kids to care for at home.  Instead, I have four babies in heaven with their Grampie, a grave for my son and the label of "infertile".  I am not looking for sympathy or trying to make any of you feel guilty.  I am simply sharing my heart.  Infertility and pregnancy loss is not an easy thing to talk about for most.  For me, it's simple.  It's my life.  It's my testimony.  It's why I am the way I am.  Am I sad that my body is not able to carry my children.  Yes.  Do I cry?  Yes.  Is it hard for me to understand?  Yes. 

To be pregnant, let's face it, to get pregnant is a miracle.  Not just for me.  For any woman.  Do you know, seriously know, how the female body works?  What all has to fall in place for a woman to conceive during the small window in which this can happen during her cycle?  Just a sidenote: if you don't...you should read "Taking Charge of your Fertility".  It lays it all out for you.  A miracle.  That's right.  Let's go back to that.  Maybe losing babies makes you more aware of this.  But, I'm telling each and every one of you...it shouldn't.  Again I say, to be pregnant is a miracle.  I know being pregnant is not fun for some.  And I think most women would agree that it's work.  Hard work.  In the beginning you're tired, nauseous, crabby and even more crabby(!)....ask my husband about that!  No. On second thought you better not.  You have indigestion and gas.  Your guts are moving up to provide room.  Your hormones are running a muck and you are growing a little person inside your belly.  Seriously.  This is amazing.  The first moment you see that little peanut via ultrasound with it's itty bitty heart beating it's all worth it.  You cry.  As you get further along, your back begins hurting.  You're carrying around more weight and the more weight you put on your belly the more you feel it on your back.  This makes you more crabby.  You visit the Chiropractor and the Massage Therapist, looking for relief.  But, it's part of carrying your miracle.  Did I have back pain? YES.  Was I uncomfortable?  YES. As your belly gets bigger your muscles hurt as they stretch.  And I only carried Elliott for 19 weeks.  I can't imagine what my back would have felt like when I was 38 weeks or 40+ weeks.

I can tell you how grateful I am.  That our Jesus gave us Elliott.  That I carried him for 19 weeks.  Moving and kicking in my belly.  I feel so privileged.  So thankful.  So full of gratitude.  Even for the nausea, tiredness and back pain.  Because of this I feel sad.  Sad for women I see complaining openly about their aches and pains while they are pregnant.  Sharing with everyone they know how "done they are" with carrying their miracle.  It hurts my heart so.  I long for them to see the gratitude in their pregnancy.  To know the thankfulness Jesus has given me.  To realize the gift growing inside them.  If you asked my friends who are pregnant now and have been before they would share my feelings.  They have spent time with me.  They know my heart.  They have aches and pains like I did.  Wouldn't it be better if you focused on the good? The grateful?  Count down the days until you deliver with happiness?  And get to hold your son or daughter?  That you get to have your baby inside of you still?  Growing and moving?  Kicking you to remind you he/she is there?  I sure think so.

Just because

I should be making cookies, folding laundry and cleaning my house, but...I'm not! Because for a few weeks now this has really been on my heart. Often I will think of something I want to post about and mull it over for weeks on end. I want my posts to be meaningful and really want to express how I'm feeling, but...sometimes, it just doesn't come out right. I'm hoping and praying this will not be one of those times. Just recently, two very good friends of mine have delivered new babies! Because I love them and their families I have made meals for both of them. Also, recently I have become acquainted (through Facebook) with a sweet gal I graduated with who, like me, has experienced loss in her life. She and her husband have also experienced infertility, with her most recent loss just months ago. She has quickly become someone I treasure corresponding with. You see, when you've gone through infertility and loss you gravitate to others who have been through what you have. They are the ones who understand what you have been through and why you feel the way you do. This gal, let's just call her "A" and her husband have also adopted a daughter. We have a huge connection there as well. A few weeks ago,"A" congratulated me for being able to make meals for my friends and spend time with them and their new babies. I thought about this and wondered how it could be such and accomplishment? I quickly realized that "A" was where I had been at one time. I would never have been able to do this when I was SMACK in the middle of our TTC'ing journey. It hurt...and it hurt A LOT! I couldn't even look at another pregnant woman without hanging my head and crying!! Jesus took that from me....He mended my broken heart and gave me a gift! I shared with "A" that it was when I gave my infertility over to Jesus that I felt free....and after sharing this with Aaron he reminded me of something else. When the focus is taken off of oneself it is so much easier. And, to be very honest with you...it is so healing for me. Not to mention the snuggles I get...who wouldn't like snuggling with new little people?? My Jesus has given me a gift....that is serving & giving! I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE to make meals and bake for others. I would spend my life savings (right now that's not much) on others. Not only is that gift God given, it's been passed down through three generations. My Mom is the very same way, and her Mom, my Grandma Rose taught her this gift. I'm thankful, very thankful for these women in my life. I wish my Grandma Rose was here today...she would love to see this in action!! So, "A", I hope you don't mind me sharing this. I'm praying Jesus blesses you with an unexpected gift...I'm praying you'll get to the place where you can spend time with others who are pregnant and love on their babies....you would do an incredible job!!

"Mother's Day Chocolate"

Aaron and I subscribe to Adoptive Families magazine.  Each time it comes I scour it thoroughly...I love the information it provides and love, love, love to look at all the pictures of the cutest little kids EVER!!  We can't wait to send a picture of Halle in to them in hopes of getting it printed!  So...in the June issue that we got in May there was this AMAZING story.  I looked for the link to it on their website, but...I could not find it.  I have posted it here in it's entirety.  Be blessed AND...get out your kleenex.  I read it to Aaron one Saturday morning and both of us were crying.  I just felt such a connection with this Mom....I had felt like her so many times on Mother's Day.  I have a few more posts as we lead up to Mother's Day, the day I have been looking forward to for many, many years!!!

On May 6, 2007, my husband, George, and I were leaving church when I said to him, " I don't want to go to church next Sunday."  It was selfish, but I couldn't help it.  Each year, on Mother's Day, the preacher asks all of the mothers to stand and be honored with a special token-usually a piece of chocolate.  The gift is trivial, of course, but it denotes something more, something I didn't have and wanted so much: a child to love.  For several years, my husband watched me quietly cry into my hands during the ritual.  He didn't protest when I told him I couldn't bear it again.  But that day, our lives changed suddenly and, it seemed, miraculously.

Surprise!

A friend called while George and I were at lunch.  She told us to call another friend of ours, who is an OB/GYN.  He'd delivered a baby the day before, and he wanted to talk with us, but didn't have our cell numbers.  We sped home in stunned silence as we realized what might be happening.  

George and I dialed our friend's number from the kitchen.  We stood at opposite sides of the counter, staring at each other with wide eyes, as our friend told us that a young woman had delivered a healthy baby girl at his hospital the day before.  During his follow-up rounds, she had asked him if he knew of a family that might adopt the baby. 

The baby girl had black hair and olive skin, similar to mine.  Our friend said she immediately reminded him of me.  He asked if we were still trying to conceive.  We told him about the emotional roller-coaster we'd been on, and about the most recent failed IVF.

We spoke about the baby's health and the birthmother's circumstances.  I'll never forget what came next.  George asked, "How long do we have to think about this?"  Our friend said, "The mother's leaving the hospital in 40 minutes."

George and I looked at each other, and each saw the answer on the other's face.  We didn't even hang up the phone to talk it over.

"Yes!" we both exclaimed.

During the seven-hour drive, George and I fell into periods of contemplative silence interspersed with manic discussion-what names did we like?  How would we manage our work schedules?  What did we need to do to our house?  How amazingly, unbelievably, wonderful was this?  

We held hands as we walked into the hospital.  It was late, and the halls were quiet.  George and I felt so very small as we were led to the nursery.  And from the moment we laid eyes on our little girl, we were in love.

The sweetest thing

We had to remain in our baby's birthplace for two-and-a-half weeks to complete paperwork.  The next Sunday, George and my mother (who'd also driven a long way to be with her new granddaughter) slept in.  I was feeding my daughter a bottle when my cellphone rang.  It was George's cousin, who lives in our town and goes to our church.  

"Shelley," she whispered.  "I'm in church.  They're saying the Mother's Day prayer."  She held the phone up, so I could hear our preacher's words.  

"He's asking all the adoptive mothers to stand up," she whispered.  Then losing control, she shouted into the phone, "Shelley, STAND UP!"

There I was standing in the living room of our rented home-away-from-home, laughing and crying.  George and my mom came in to see why I was making so much noise.  But this time, I was crying the happiest tears I'd ever known.  And in my arms, I held something sweeter than all the Mother's Day chocolate in the world.

I'm sure....you cried like I did...I cried again while typing this.  All those amazing, wonderful feelings of getting "the phone call" came back to me again.  The feelings I felt the first time I saw Halle and her birthmother placed her in my arms!!  WOW!!  God is so very good!!  I have been a mother since November 21, 2008.  This is the most challenging, yet rewarding, thing I have EVER done.  But...this weekend I have been thinking of those women out there who want nothing more in this world than to be a mother.  I'm praying for them....praying God will bless them with this joy.  Whether it be through adoption or giving birth themselves.  Please join me in praying for them.  

Our Journey -- Part 1

Some of you who may not know us very well may not know about our journey through infertility. I just wanted to share that with you, the readers of our blog, our friends and family. I was just thinking how I couldn't believe it had been three whole years since we started this whole TTC (trying to conceive) process. Wow!! It seems like it was just yesterday but, it also seems like it's been ten years not just three. Aaron and I were eager to start a family after we had spent about 1 1/2 years as a married couple. After about a year and many charts (sheesh...don't you just love taking your temperature every morning???), many appointments with my Naturapath, many tears and much prayer we decided to seek help from an OB/GYN. She put me on Clomid, an oral fertility drug that is taken during the first part of your cycle to help with ovulation. OH, I forgot to mention I wasn't ovulating very often on my own. The first month....I ovulated...HOOORAAAYYY, but...Aaron was out of town...not so good for babymaking. The second month we conceived and all was well! I didn't feel too sick, we were excited, I was reading "What to Expect When You're Expecting" we told everyone we could think of. I was so **sure** nothing was going to happen. I arrived to my first OB appointment eager and full of anticipation, without Aaron. They took some blood work, I filled out a lot of paper work and then we started the ultrasound. Imagine my dismay when the Doctor pronounced, "Looks like you're having a miscarriage". What??? She hands me a box of kleenex, I don't cry, I'm in HUGE shock. So many thoughts running through my head, my Mom hadn't had any miscarriages, aren't they hereditary? No. I really need my husband, where is my husband? We have to tell all these people. What do we say? How does one handle this? I collected my thoughts and listened to the Doctor explain that there was a sac, but no heartbeat and we had a few options to induce this miscarriage. Oh great! Just what I wanted to hear. We could wait it out and see what happens on it's own, not so great...I was thinking this was going to happen while I was walking down the street, getting groceries, worshipping at church. Not the best option and certainly not convenient, but...when is a miscarriage? I could use some medication (Misoprostol) that would cause my cervix to soften and start contracting. This would be uncomfortable, but I could do it at home. I would be given pain medication and instructions. Third option was a D&C. Nope, didn't want to do this. I left the office still in shock. My first call was to Aaron, he immediately left work to join me. My next call was to my second Mom, Marj. She works with me and is a longtime family friend. I explained the situation through tears and said I would not be in for the rest of the day. Aaron and I grieved that day. For the baby that would not be born in December 2005. We cried, oh did we cry. We just looked at each other and held each other and prayed. And tried so hard to remember this "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord. Plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you hope and a future" Jeremiah 29:11 We called Aaron's parents and went to my parent's house. They prayed with us. We went home and tried to move on. I cried for at least a week....at home, at work, in the car. My husband was my rock. We prayed some more and I used the medication a week after my appointment. The Doctor had told me there was a chance this wouldn't work. You're kidding me right? This needed to work....more prayer. Late on a friday evening I used the medication. It worked. I started contracting about 20 minutes after I used it. Oh my word, the pain. If this is what labor would be like I would definitely need the epidural....I used the pain medicine and more ibuprofen. Aaron ran from our bedroom to the microwave heating up my rice bag. My dear husband. Oh how I love him. Our baby passed from my body and into Jesus' arms. I recovered and 1 1/2 months later I was pregnant again. I started spotting a week after I took the test. Ectopic pregnancy suspected. Blood draws weekly. Ultrasounds and more Doctor's visits later I was sent to the hospital to await a shot of methotrexate. Actually, two to be exact, right in the 'ol butt. I had a new found respect for my Dad who was going through cancer treatment and needed to get shots like that monthly. Don't look these drugs up on google...they're scary. Trust me. I waited for two hours, I'm not kidding. How exasperating. The only place I could get the medication was at the hospital. Later I found out that wasn't true. I made sure to relay that message to my Doctor's office. I could not believe I was going through this again. I had been trying to call Aaron through all of this...come to find out he was in Sudden Valley and had NO cell service. Figures. I got the shots and waited. They worked. And, our second baby passed from my body and into Jesus' arms the very next day. I was done. So done. I sat in our newly purchased glider rocker (in the newly appointed nursery) and cried....for all we had lost. For our baby that would not be born in our birthday month and possibly share one of our birthdays...for the second Mother's Day that I would still not be a Mother here on earth. Only the peace that passes all understanding got us through. Aaron was so optimistic...things will go better next time..let's keep trying. As I mentioned earlier, my Dad had cancer and later on that month we moved him to a nursing home. My Mom could no longer care for him at home. One day I was visiting him and he looked me straight in the eye and told me we couldn't quit. How could we turn him down? He hadn't given up. His body had been through hell and still he pressed on. When he had nothing left he clung to Jesus. And...so that is what we did. The next couple of months we spent focusing on us and Dad..he was terminal. My Dad passed away in November 2006. Before he passed I was able to give him this very important message, "You're a Grandpa now...take care of my babies for me." And I'm sure he's doing just that.