I feel like for anyone who reads this blog regularly it must be incredibly depressing. I feel kind of bad about that. But I remind myself the purpose of this blog is not to be uplifting, but rather it is to share our journey, which is unfortunately a pretty sad and painful one. This is my life and it is pretty messy right now. So for those who are brave enough to continue the journey with us, here we go.
We celebrated Christmas. It was actually, all things considered, a lovely day. Watching Riley open her gifts and see how excited she was about them was an absolute joy. My favorite moment was when she opened a Hello Kitty (her absolute favorite!) outfit from my sister and her husband and Riley held it up, looked at it with big eyes, shook her head slowly back and forth and said very slowly, in almost a whisper, "Beautiful." But when the present opening was over and all the festivities were winding down, a sad feeling came over me. Maybe it was my sadness over losing the babies, maybe it was the fact that we will soon get the latest news on whether or not my my mother in law's cancer is shrinking, maybe it was just all the build up for a holiday that comes and goes so quickly. But I felt sad. Jason and I saw the doctor in St. Louis last week. Our appointment pretty much confirmed all the information we already knew from our previous phone conversation with him. We now just have to decide what we want to do. If we are ready to take that leap. The doctor is ready when we are. We are still thinking it all over.
We watched a movie recently, "The Words". It is an amazing movie. It confirmed many things I have already been thinking for a long time now. People may wonder how a person becomes so sad, so different than what they once were. The answer is simply this...life. Life happens to all of us and there is nothing we can do to stop it. Sometimes life is amazing and beautiful. Sometimes life is tragic. I have witnessed enough close family and friends go through tragedy and have faced enough myself recently to know this, we are all just one tragedy away from our lives becoming divided into what once was and what now is. I once was a young, beautiful, happy girl full of life. My life was divided by the death of my children. I am not that person anymore. But I am working hard to find my way to being a new person, one who has experienced tragedy but has not let it get the best of her. Sometimes even I think I should just get over it, move on, just stop being so sad about it all. But then I remind myself that my most recent miscarriage was just three short months ago. For most women just one miscarriage like that would be devastating. And I have had six. Jason told me recently that it is like the scar on his hand. When he owned his lawn and landscape business he dropped a mower on his hand and had to go to the ER for stitches. It was a pretty bad wound. It was deep. And even now that it has healed and scarred over, though the pain is not like it once was, he still feels pain when he hits the scar just right, claps, or when his wedding ring presses into it. My wounds are fresh. They have not healed yet and the worst part is just when one starts to heal, I get another one. My wounds will scar over and heal eventually, but I may never see a newborn baby and not feel a twinge of sadness, December 3rd may never come and go without me remembering it is the day my child died, finding out I am pregnant may never again be a happy time, but rather one of anxiety, just counting each day, each week as a success and as one day closer to the day my baby will be born and out of what may possibly be the most dangerous place it will ever be, in the womb of its own mother. But with time, just like the old man in "The Words" perhaps I will find my peace with it all too. Until then, I think about this, a life lived without any trial, any testing rarely produces faith, perseverance, trust, insight. A life lived with tragedy and hopelessness sometimes is the most perfect setting for God to work His greatest miracles.
I love you always and forever and no matter what.
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Friday, December 14, 2012
Adoption
The last thing I want to do is offend anyone but I feel like, in our situation, the issue of adoption is too big not to be addressed. And before I share my feelings on the subject, I have to first say that I have two cousins who are adopted and they are more like siblings to me than cousins. I know they were always meant to be in the exact family that they are in. In fact, sometimes one of them will make a comment about being adopted and I think, "Oh yeah, that's right. You're adopted!" I really do forget that minor detail a lot because to me they aren't my adopted cousins. They are just my cousins. I love them dearly and can't imagine life without them.
That being said, I am always shocked at how brazenly people bring up this topic with us. Whether or not to adopt a baby is a very personal matter and not one I would discuss just off the cuff in casual conversation. To be honest, it really offends me, hurts me and makes me feel hopeless. Here's why...
1. Adopting a baby isn't the cure all for infertility related problems. Adoption is expensive. It's a lengthy process and all too often you hear the sad stories of a failed adoption and parent's to be are left mourning the loss of a baby, just like they would if they had miscarried. Adoption is a huge step and not as easy as people may think.
2. People say, "Well have you considered adoption?" Well of course we have! Who in our situation doesn't consider that. It's not like we have never heard of adoption before. But when people ASK us if we have thought about it, it really is just kind of insulting to our intelligence and it's really a passive way of them TELLING us that maybe we should consider adopting. Which brings me to my next point.
3. When people suggest adoption to us, I realize how hopeless our situation must look to outsiders. They must secretly think there is no chance of us having a biological child and adoption is our only option. I am hanging on to hope with all I have and those comments snatch it away so fast.
If I had never had a biological child I might feel differently on this topic. But I have. I know what it's like to carry a baby, to feel a baby move within you and subsequently your heart does too, to wonder if the baby will look like you or your husband and to watch that miracle unfold as you deliver and raise your child. I think adoption is a beautiful and amazing thing. I know it has brought many families together that would never be otherwise. I never say never, because as soon as I do God has a way of making me eat my words, but I can say that presently adoption does not feel right in my heart. It never has in the past and I do not anticipate it to in the future. And Jason feels the same way.
These adoption comments have been said to me since just after my first miscarriage which is just crazy considering how common miscarriage is. I could have had two or three healthy kids after just one miscarriage. If you are reading this and you have suggested adoption to us, I write this not to make you feel bad. I know your hearts are in the right place and often times people just want so badly to help us and say something to make us feel better and give us some hope. I write this to educate people. Miscarriage is such a taboo subject and people do not know what the right thing to say is. I can help people to know what the right thing is. Just like you would not say to a grieving widow, "You can just marry a new husband", you would not say to grieving parents, "You can just adopt a different baby." It doesn't work that way.
There are many couples out there who feel pulled in their hearts to adopt and to them I say that is amazing. I love that for them. For us, it's just not so, perhaps for no other reason than this, if we had given up and adopted there would be no Riley Grace in this world. And the world is definitely a better place for her being in it. I feel in my heart the need to keep trying to have another baby with my husband. When it works for us, it works beautifully! Just look at our girl! I'm not ready to give up on what God can create out of Jason and I just yet. And if I am wrong and there are no more babies in our future, then we will find our way to peace and acceptance and we will be a content and happy family of three and we will shower our one baby girl with all the love in our hearts.
That being said, I am always shocked at how brazenly people bring up this topic with us. Whether or not to adopt a baby is a very personal matter and not one I would discuss just off the cuff in casual conversation. To be honest, it really offends me, hurts me and makes me feel hopeless. Here's why...
1. Adopting a baby isn't the cure all for infertility related problems. Adoption is expensive. It's a lengthy process and all too often you hear the sad stories of a failed adoption and parent's to be are left mourning the loss of a baby, just like they would if they had miscarried. Adoption is a huge step and not as easy as people may think.
2. People say, "Well have you considered adoption?" Well of course we have! Who in our situation doesn't consider that. It's not like we have never heard of adoption before. But when people ASK us if we have thought about it, it really is just kind of insulting to our intelligence and it's really a passive way of them TELLING us that maybe we should consider adopting. Which brings me to my next point.
3. When people suggest adoption to us, I realize how hopeless our situation must look to outsiders. They must secretly think there is no chance of us having a biological child and adoption is our only option. I am hanging on to hope with all I have and those comments snatch it away so fast.
If I had never had a biological child I might feel differently on this topic. But I have. I know what it's like to carry a baby, to feel a baby move within you and subsequently your heart does too, to wonder if the baby will look like you or your husband and to watch that miracle unfold as you deliver and raise your child. I think adoption is a beautiful and amazing thing. I know it has brought many families together that would never be otherwise. I never say never, because as soon as I do God has a way of making me eat my words, but I can say that presently adoption does not feel right in my heart. It never has in the past and I do not anticipate it to in the future. And Jason feels the same way.
These adoption comments have been said to me since just after my first miscarriage which is just crazy considering how common miscarriage is. I could have had two or three healthy kids after just one miscarriage. If you are reading this and you have suggested adoption to us, I write this not to make you feel bad. I know your hearts are in the right place and often times people just want so badly to help us and say something to make us feel better and give us some hope. I write this to educate people. Miscarriage is such a taboo subject and people do not know what the right thing to say is. I can help people to know what the right thing is. Just like you would not say to a grieving widow, "You can just marry a new husband", you would not say to grieving parents, "You can just adopt a different baby." It doesn't work that way.
There are many couples out there who feel pulled in their hearts to adopt and to them I say that is amazing. I love that for them. For us, it's just not so, perhaps for no other reason than this, if we had given up and adopted there would be no Riley Grace in this world. And the world is definitely a better place for her being in it. I feel in my heart the need to keep trying to have another baby with my husband. When it works for us, it works beautifully! Just look at our girl! I'm not ready to give up on what God can create out of Jason and I just yet. And if I am wrong and there are no more babies in our future, then we will find our way to peace and acceptance and we will be a content and happy family of three and we will shower our one baby girl with all the love in our hearts.
Friday, December 7, 2012
Crazy Love
I have a saying I've used often since I met and decided to marry Jason...close your eyes and jump. I knew when I married him it was a risk. Marriage is always a risk. Anything in life worth doing is a risk. I knew there was no guarantee our life together would be perfect and there was no way to know what the future held. But I had faith that whatever was in store for us, we would love each other through it. We would survive it. I could think of a million reasons to never get married but instead I chose to put my faith in God and in a man I love and close my eyes and jump. We closed our eyes and jumped when we decided to start this journey we call having a baby, we closed our eyes and jumped when Jason decided to quit his secure job working for his dad and start his own agency and a few weeks ago when my sister got married, the last words I said to her before she walked down the isle were, "Close your eyes and jump."
And so when I started this blog I vowed to be brutally honest. There is no point in sharing this journey if it is not honest, open and transparent. So here is the honest truth, a miscarriage is hard on a marriage. Six of them wrecks havoc on a marriage. Take into consideration that a man and woman grieve the loss of a baby very differently. For a man it is sad. For a woman it is devastating. I carried the baby in my body. I connected with the baby on a level a man will never understand. I loved my babies from the moment I saw a pink line. I had hopes, dreams and a future all planed out. We were connected. I grieve these losses much deeper and much stronger than Jason does. Now imagine your husband is gone working late hours and you are on your own with a very "spirited" two year old. I am tired, I am sad, I am just trying to get through the days that make up this season of my life. And now, the real challenge, what if you both don't agree on how to proceed with your fertility problems. It probably goes without saying that I am willing to go to the ends of the earth to have another child. Jason is not. I want more children. Jason is completely content with having just one. I don't care how much IVF and all the treatments cost. Jason does. I don't care what my body has to go through to have another child. Jason does. And a few nights ago, in the depths of my despair, I whispered to him in the quiet darkness of our room, "I want another baby". His response, "I know you do. But it's probably not going to happen. The odds are just not in our favor." And I physically felt my heart drop into my stomach. Again, how differently we see things. Dr. Sher told us our odds were 50/50. To me that means just that, 50/50. To Jason that means the odds are not in our favor. Needless to say, the next day, a ferocious argument ensued. It ended with me saying this, "You are all hypocrites. YOU are a hypocrite. You say you believe in a God who can do immeasurably more than we could ask or imagine, who loves us and wants to bless us, who can do anything and nothing is impossible for Him. What is a miracle to us is simply the wave of a hand for God. And then in the same breath you tell me this is impossible and not even worth trying." Ouch.
The next day is Jason's birthday and despite our argument, we go out to dinner to celebrate and that's where it happens. On his birthday I give him a pair of jeans. And he gives me something more special than I ever could have imagined. He slides across the table a red notebook. I open it to the first page and it explains that back in March when we were on vacation in Mexico he decided to start writing down, every day, what he appreciated about me. Some days it is just a few sentences and other days it is pages. Some of his words are sacred, to be held forever in the hearts of just Jason and I, but I have his permission to share some of it...."My heart breaks for you", "You are the most deserving woman in the world of another child", "Thank you for being there with me for Grandma Parker's visitation and funeral", "I appreciate you", "Thank you for cooking dinner", etc....
And then dated December 6, 2012 is this excerpt from his entry, "I appreciate the way you give me a new perspective. All this time you talk about how I need to be a rock of strength for you but when I look back it is you who has provided the courage and strength to push forward. When it was time to get married, you pushed. When it was time to buy a new house, you pushed. When it was time to have a baby, you pushed. When it was time to try for a second one, you pushed. When we faced difficulty, you pushed. You always said 'close your eyes and jump'. All along the way you have reached back and grabbed my hand to jump. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, we will jump. We will jump into the dead, dark, scary unknown. While you have always been the one to push and I have always been slow to come around, now I will jump with you."
All this time I have been feeling so alone in this struggle and unbeknownst to me, my husband has been taking time to write every day and he has been noticing my pain and he cares. He didn't know how to express it and this little red book was the only way he could. And we are finally on the same page. We are ready to close our eyes and jump, together, into whatever this endeavor to have another child holds for us. It may be more pain and loss. It may be more joy than we could ever ask or imagine. But whatever it is, we will face it, hands clenched tightly together, two hearts joined as one hoping against all hope for a miracle. Are we afraid of going down this road and what might be ahead? Unequivocally, yes. But Jason quoted this in the journal, "Fear never wrote a symphony, negotiated a peace treaty, or cured a disease. Fear never pulled a family out of poverty or a country out of bigotry. Courage did that. Faith did that. People who refused to consult with or cower to their timidity did that."
Our love has been shaped by tragedy. Our love is flawed and bruised because of it. But it's real. It's enduring. It's tragic and it's beautiful. It's the delicate leaf caught in the whirlwind of a ferocious storm, twisting and tossing us every which way. It's our love. It's crazy love that causes two people to cling to one another, close our eyes and jump into the abyss, step out of the boat onto the rocky waves where our God waits for us, arms outstretched, waiting to catch us, no matter what happens. My cup runneth over with crazy love.
I love you always and forever and no matter what.
And so when I started this blog I vowed to be brutally honest. There is no point in sharing this journey if it is not honest, open and transparent. So here is the honest truth, a miscarriage is hard on a marriage. Six of them wrecks havoc on a marriage. Take into consideration that a man and woman grieve the loss of a baby very differently. For a man it is sad. For a woman it is devastating. I carried the baby in my body. I connected with the baby on a level a man will never understand. I loved my babies from the moment I saw a pink line. I had hopes, dreams and a future all planed out. We were connected. I grieve these losses much deeper and much stronger than Jason does. Now imagine your husband is gone working late hours and you are on your own with a very "spirited" two year old. I am tired, I am sad, I am just trying to get through the days that make up this season of my life. And now, the real challenge, what if you both don't agree on how to proceed with your fertility problems. It probably goes without saying that I am willing to go to the ends of the earth to have another child. Jason is not. I want more children. Jason is completely content with having just one. I don't care how much IVF and all the treatments cost. Jason does. I don't care what my body has to go through to have another child. Jason does. And a few nights ago, in the depths of my despair, I whispered to him in the quiet darkness of our room, "I want another baby". His response, "I know you do. But it's probably not going to happen. The odds are just not in our favor." And I physically felt my heart drop into my stomach. Again, how differently we see things. Dr. Sher told us our odds were 50/50. To me that means just that, 50/50. To Jason that means the odds are not in our favor. Needless to say, the next day, a ferocious argument ensued. It ended with me saying this, "You are all hypocrites. YOU are a hypocrite. You say you believe in a God who can do immeasurably more than we could ask or imagine, who loves us and wants to bless us, who can do anything and nothing is impossible for Him. What is a miracle to us is simply the wave of a hand for God. And then in the same breath you tell me this is impossible and not even worth trying." Ouch.
The next day is Jason's birthday and despite our argument, we go out to dinner to celebrate and that's where it happens. On his birthday I give him a pair of jeans. And he gives me something more special than I ever could have imagined. He slides across the table a red notebook. I open it to the first page and it explains that back in March when we were on vacation in Mexico he decided to start writing down, every day, what he appreciated about me. Some days it is just a few sentences and other days it is pages. Some of his words are sacred, to be held forever in the hearts of just Jason and I, but I have his permission to share some of it...."My heart breaks for you", "You are the most deserving woman in the world of another child", "Thank you for being there with me for Grandma Parker's visitation and funeral", "I appreciate you", "Thank you for cooking dinner", etc....
And then dated December 6, 2012 is this excerpt from his entry, "I appreciate the way you give me a new perspective. All this time you talk about how I need to be a rock of strength for you but when I look back it is you who has provided the courage and strength to push forward. When it was time to get married, you pushed. When it was time to buy a new house, you pushed. When it was time to have a baby, you pushed. When it was time to try for a second one, you pushed. When we faced difficulty, you pushed. You always said 'close your eyes and jump'. All along the way you have reached back and grabbed my hand to jump. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, we will jump. We will jump into the dead, dark, scary unknown. While you have always been the one to push and I have always been slow to come around, now I will jump with you."
All this time I have been feeling so alone in this struggle and unbeknownst to me, my husband has been taking time to write every day and he has been noticing my pain and he cares. He didn't know how to express it and this little red book was the only way he could. And we are finally on the same page. We are ready to close our eyes and jump, together, into whatever this endeavor to have another child holds for us. It may be more pain and loss. It may be more joy than we could ever ask or imagine. But whatever it is, we will face it, hands clenched tightly together, two hearts joined as one hoping against all hope for a miracle. Are we afraid of going down this road and what might be ahead? Unequivocally, yes. But Jason quoted this in the journal, "Fear never wrote a symphony, negotiated a peace treaty, or cured a disease. Fear never pulled a family out of poverty or a country out of bigotry. Courage did that. Faith did that. People who refused to consult with or cower to their timidity did that."
Our love has been shaped by tragedy. Our love is flawed and bruised because of it. But it's real. It's enduring. It's tragic and it's beautiful. It's the delicate leaf caught in the whirlwind of a ferocious storm, twisting and tossing us every which way. It's our love. It's crazy love that causes two people to cling to one another, close our eyes and jump into the abyss, step out of the boat onto the rocky waves where our God waits for us, arms outstretched, waiting to catch us, no matter what happens. My cup runneth over with crazy love.
I love you always and forever and no matter what.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
A Baby Changes Everything
I am babysitting a friend's son. He is asleep in the pack-n-play in my guest room and Riley is asleep in her crib. Both kids napping at the same time, sweet relief. I lay down, back aching, pounding head ache, exhaustion. A nap is just what this pregnant mother needs to regain some energy before the kids wake up. And before I slip off to sleep I listen to my baby's heart beat...for the last time. That was one year ago today.
The nagging feeling that the heart rate was too low pulls on my heart the rest of that day. I check it again the next morning...nothing. I eat and drink orange juice and then lay down and try again...nothing. I wait, wait, wait until the doctor will finally see me. My baby has now been gone at least 24 hours. And I am terrified. We finally get to see the doctor. Our friend's daughter's first birthday is this day. I remember thinking we could still make it to the party. I still hang on to the hope that it will be a quick in and out appointment where they will find the heart beat and tell me I am overreacting and send me home and we will go about our day and attend the birthday party. The appointment is not quick. I am not overreacting. We miss the birthday party.
A baby changes everything. Yes they certainly do. We've all heard this saying before and a baby, whether it's a fleeting spark of life or a healthy baby born into your arms, changes everything. That day, one year ago, that baby changed everything. I went home to a house decorated from top to bottom for Christmas. I love this time of year, which makes me so angry because now I don't like this time of year so much. Christmas is a sad time for me now. I lost a baby at Christmas time. I was due to have a baby just a few days ago, one I miscarried back in March. The death of one baby and the due date of another lost one are just days apart. On my tree hangs a new ornament this year, one in remembrance of my babies, especially my Christmas one. And what's worse is that Christmas is a holiday about a baby being born. Reminders of a baby in the Christmas music, in the nativity scenes, in the story of Christmas.
But if a baby changes everything, never was there a baby who changed everything more than baby Jesus did. He snuck into this world in the form of a human child on a star lit night and changed everything for every single soul forever more. Born into a world of dirt surrounded by animals, such a meek beginning for God's only treasured Son. He took on the pain, agony and heart break of this world all for the sake of love. He lived a life of love. He died a gruesome death on a cross to save others, his death was a death of love. His love in the form of a baby changed everything. I spoke to a friend recently and I told her this of all my babies...each of them has changed everything, for there are now six eternal beings in heaven who would never be there if not for love, the love Jason and I have for each other, the love God has for us. One of my favorite Christmas songs is "A Baby Changes Everything" by Faith Hill. The lyrics speak straight to my heart. Although our stories are very different the emotion is the same. A young girl is with child and she is scared. She cries, oh how she cries. And then she delivers a baby who changes everything and then Mary lost that child one day. Oh how she cried, how we both have cried. But Mary's loss was temporary and because of the baby she carried we all have hope of being reunited with the ones we have loved and lost. I know this is not what everyone believes, but it is what I believe.
That same sweet girl whose birthday party we missed last year turned two this past weekend. I made it to the party this year. Riley and I sang her Happy Birthday, watched her open her gifts, blow out her candles and Riley ate a lot of the cake she had been begging me for since we got there. But in my heart was an ache that I could not get rid of. It has really been a year since we lost you little one. How I wish I could have held you, seen you, kissed you, watched you grow, wiped your tears and tickled your tummy. You changed everything and each passing day is one day closer to the day I will get to see you, hold you, kiss you. And each passing day is one day closer to the day I will see the baby who makes that possible. Sweet baby, I love you always and forever and no matter what and God, I am trying, despite the pain and doubt and fear, to love you always and forever and no matter what.
Faith Hill singing live "A Baby Changes Everything"
The Story of the Baby Who Changed Everything
The nagging feeling that the heart rate was too low pulls on my heart the rest of that day. I check it again the next morning...nothing. I eat and drink orange juice and then lay down and try again...nothing. I wait, wait, wait until the doctor will finally see me. My baby has now been gone at least 24 hours. And I am terrified. We finally get to see the doctor. Our friend's daughter's first birthday is this day. I remember thinking we could still make it to the party. I still hang on to the hope that it will be a quick in and out appointment where they will find the heart beat and tell me I am overreacting and send me home and we will go about our day and attend the birthday party. The appointment is not quick. I am not overreacting. We miss the birthday party.
A baby changes everything. Yes they certainly do. We've all heard this saying before and a baby, whether it's a fleeting spark of life or a healthy baby born into your arms, changes everything. That day, one year ago, that baby changed everything. I went home to a house decorated from top to bottom for Christmas. I love this time of year, which makes me so angry because now I don't like this time of year so much. Christmas is a sad time for me now. I lost a baby at Christmas time. I was due to have a baby just a few days ago, one I miscarried back in March. The death of one baby and the due date of another lost one are just days apart. On my tree hangs a new ornament this year, one in remembrance of my babies, especially my Christmas one. And what's worse is that Christmas is a holiday about a baby being born. Reminders of a baby in the Christmas music, in the nativity scenes, in the story of Christmas.
But if a baby changes everything, never was there a baby who changed everything more than baby Jesus did. He snuck into this world in the form of a human child on a star lit night and changed everything for every single soul forever more. Born into a world of dirt surrounded by animals, such a meek beginning for God's only treasured Son. He took on the pain, agony and heart break of this world all for the sake of love. He lived a life of love. He died a gruesome death on a cross to save others, his death was a death of love. His love in the form of a baby changed everything. I spoke to a friend recently and I told her this of all my babies...each of them has changed everything, for there are now six eternal beings in heaven who would never be there if not for love, the love Jason and I have for each other, the love God has for us. One of my favorite Christmas songs is "A Baby Changes Everything" by Faith Hill. The lyrics speak straight to my heart. Although our stories are very different the emotion is the same. A young girl is with child and she is scared. She cries, oh how she cries. And then she delivers a baby who changes everything and then Mary lost that child one day. Oh how she cried, how we both have cried. But Mary's loss was temporary and because of the baby she carried we all have hope of being reunited with the ones we have loved and lost. I know this is not what everyone believes, but it is what I believe.
That same sweet girl whose birthday party we missed last year turned two this past weekend. I made it to the party this year. Riley and I sang her Happy Birthday, watched her open her gifts, blow out her candles and Riley ate a lot of the cake she had been begging me for since we got there. But in my heart was an ache that I could not get rid of. It has really been a year since we lost you little one. How I wish I could have held you, seen you, kissed you, watched you grow, wiped your tears and tickled your tummy. You changed everything and each passing day is one day closer to the day I will get to see you, hold you, kiss you. And each passing day is one day closer to the day I will see the baby who makes that possible. Sweet baby, I love you always and forever and no matter what and God, I am trying, despite the pain and doubt and fear, to love you always and forever and no matter what.
Faith Hill singing live "A Baby Changes Everything"
The Story of the Baby Who Changed Everything
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