Doctors....The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

One of the most frustrating things about being in our position ironically is the medical field.  The very people who are supposed to be caring for you and helping you (and who you are paying a lot of money to for that service) often fail you.  I sit here writing this after a crying meltdown in my kitchen because I am so frustrated.  Thankfully my daughter was upstairs playing so she was not scared by the whole episode.  I have seen a lot of doctors...some good, some bad, some really bad.  And most recently one very good.  But I have been a patient with my current specialist for over four years and I am beyond angry that I cannot get a call back from a doctor within a decent amount of time, That I am currently in need of an order from him for medicine that I cannot get and time is ticking by, every second valuable and I need this medicine and still no word.  I am the middle man between the new specialist, a reproductive immunologist from New York and my current specialist here.  I have to call one and tell them what the other one said because no one is really communicating directly with each other very well and if I didn't force this communication it just wouldn't happen and my health would suffer in the process.  I find out on a Saturday that I need this medicine NOW and when I call the doctors office the nurse kindly tells me, "We can't do that today.  It's Saturday.  It will have to wait until Monday."  As if people's medical needs vanish between Friday night and Monday morning.  Unacceptable.  And not to mention that same nurse also informed me that I recently tested positive for an MTHFR gene mutation.  Why have I not been tested for this before now?  Why is a nurse telling me this info and not the doctor?  I ask her what that means and she says, "I don't really know a lot about it.  I will have the doctor call you Monday to talk with you about it."  Really?  Well it's after noon on Monday and I have not heard from doctor about this or the order for my medicine.  So I have no choice but to research this MTHFR myself on the Internet....and I have an anxiety attack.  A gene mutation that causes a person to not be able to process folic acid, a very important nutrient in pregnancy and for the developing baby, and it causes a person to have problems with blood clots.  The clots are usually so small they do not pose a threat to the mother's health, but when she is pregnant they can essentially "clog" the placenta with these clots and then blood can't get through to the baby.  And women who have this mutation have a a greater risk of delivering a low birth weight baby, a baby with Down Syndrome, a baby with Spina Bifida and a baby who is autistic.  Seriously, you don't think a doctor who can answer my questions should deliver such a blow!!??

Let me share with you a day in the life of a woman who has had several miscarriages.  She wakes in the morning and the first thought in her head (usually after having nightmares while she slept that she is having a miscarriage) is, "I wonder if my baby is ok."  She gets out of bed and is scared to do anything more than that but she has to.  She has children, a husband, a house, family that need her attention.  She tries to take it easy all day so she doesn't "cause" herself to have another miscarriage.  She feels nauseous and exhausted but is thankful for these welcome signs.  She fears going to the bathroom and actually holds it because she is terrified she will find blood.  She is happy and excited but won't allow herself to feel this.  In short she is just plain scared she will have another loss.  She has a lot of anxiety.  Now imagine that her doctor won't call her back in a timely manner.  She gets scary news about some weird gene mutation and no one is available to answer her questions or reassure her.  It's like pulling teeth to get necessary medicine.  She depends on her doctor to help her but when she calls his office she just feels like no one understands or is making her treatment a priority.  She is completely at her doctor's mercy and he is failing her.  It just should not be like this.  Let me tell you a good doctor can make all the difference for these women.  And considering that studies show that women who recurrently miscarry have greater success in subsequent pregnancies when they are given extra "TLC" from their doctors.  That means good and frequent communication and reassurance.  It reduces stress and everyone knows a stressed out mama is not good for baby.  I have been this woman, pregnant again after many losses.  I have been this woman many times.  And the stress of it is enough all on it's own.  We don't need the added stress from the medical professionals who are supposed to be helping us, but we often get it anyway.

I should be clear, I have some amazing doctors I have worked with.  The doctor from New York that we just recently started working with is AMAZING.  I have never even met him in person but he gave me his email address.  He emails me back right away and he has even called me on a Friday night and Saturday afternoon to discuss my treatments with me.  My obgyn is awesome and even my current specialist is good and has been for the last four years (minus the last few days when suddenly they seem to have lost my phone number).  But this is just unacceptable.  I can't imagine if I called Riley's pediatrician and said Riley was in severe danger that the pediatrician would say, "Well sorry.  It's Saturday.  She can have the medicine she needs to save her life on Monday."  I can't imagine if a person was going to get the news that they had cancer that a doctor would have a nurse call to tell them and then say, "But sorry, I can't answer your questions.  We will just call you next week." So why is it ok to give a lower standard of care to the recurrent loss mother?  Why aren't we and our unique medical problems as important as these others?  It is another part of the stigma attached to miscarriage that even doctors don't realize they are playing into.  We are not as important.  Our problem is one that is quiet and private and uncomfortable for people to talk about, even medical people...so they don't.  Our babies aren't real yet.  They aren't born.  Therefore they won't get the medicine they need. And when faced with the demands of a doctor's busy day, we fall by the wayside.  It is wrong and it is tragic.  What else can I do but fall to my kitchen floor and cry?  And sit here, still waiting as I close this post, for a doctor to call me back and help me.

Life

A brief overview of my day yesterday:

Wake up at 6:00 am, drive through a blizzard and unplowed roads to a lab to have blood drawn…we get there safely…lab is closed due to weather.  I was assured they would be open.  They are not.  We drive through the blizzard again to my doctor’s office which is thankfully open and a lab staff person has safely made it to work.  She draws my blood.  I then find out I need an IV medication to be infused and we wait all day for the orders to come through.  They finally do.  I go to the hospital where it takes four nurses nine tries to get an IV in my arm.  They finally do, but not before some significant pain and bruising is inflicted on both my arms, wrists and hands. I get the medicine and finally go home at 10:00 at night. 

Imagine my dread when I find out this morning I need another round of blood drawn for more tests…13 vials to be exact.  Last time I had that much blood drawn it required somewhere in the neighborhood of 7 – 10 needle sticks and I nearly passed out.  Enter Rodney.  I am sitting in Rodney’s room this morning at the lab he works at waiting for him to draw all this blood.  My arms are sore and bruised from yesterday and I am not looking forward to this.  “Whew, this is a lot of blood” he says. “What do you need this much blood drawn for?” he asks.  I tell him about yesterday and I tell him a very brief version of my whole story and difficulty carrying babies to term.  I tell him how hard it was last time they tried to get this much blood from me.  He is quiet.  I look around his office.  It is obvious he is a follower of Jesus.  He has cards and notes hanging on his wall that reflect his faith.  He stands up, looks at my bruised and battered arms and says, “I will use a butterfly needle. I will hit your vein the first time and I will get all the blood with one stick.  Just relax.”  As he is taking my blood he asks me, “Are you a believer?”  “Yes, I am.” I say.  “Well you need to start speaking Life.  You have every reason to be as scared as you are, but nothing is an accident and God’s ways are not ours.”  “I know” I say, “It’s really hard though”.  “A few years ago I was an alcoholic and addicted to drugs.  Today I am a leader in my church.  I have two sons and an amazing wife.  You have to speak Life”.  I say, “I know it might not seem like I am today, but I try, in my own way, to speak Life.  I am still trying to have a baby.  I must be speaking Life if I believe on some level God will still make that happen.”  He shakes his head in agreement."You are a strong woman."  he says.  "I have no choice.  I have to be." I reply.

A conversation like this is rarely had between two strangers.  But Rodney and I aren’t strangers really.  We are heirs to the same kingdom, believers in the same God.  We are a brother and sister in Christ.  And because of this connection, we can have this talk.  It is this faith that connects so many of us and makes friends out of strangers. Rodney delivers on his promise…one small needle, one stick, all 13 vials drawn in a matter of minutes.  Done.  A walk in the park.  And as I leave, he says something to me that is, for the time being, for my ears only.   

I want to speak Life.  I want to say that though these past few days have been physically and emotionally grueling, I am thankful for the science and medicine that’s helping to bring our dream to reality.  I am thankful for a husband that drives me all over town in a blizzard.  I am thankful that the nurses who took nine times to get an IV in me were so sweet and felt so bad that we were having such a rough time getting it in.  It’s not their fault.  I have really tough veins.  But through these veins flows the blood of Jesus that has washed over me and through me and set me free.  I have hope in Him.  I am thankful He lead me right into Rodney’s lab chair today.  Not an accident.  I am thankful for Life.  I praise God today and thank Him a million times over for Life.  Thank you, God, for this life.

I love you always and forever and no matter what.

Times

I am weary.  So very tired.  So much suffering.  Those I love are suffering...my own pain compounded.  I begin to doubt.  The voice in my head says "You are crazy to still be hoping.  You will never have another child.  The sooner you accept this and move on, the better."  I begin to wonder if I really even want another one and remind myself of all the benefits of only having one child.  But why the gnawing ache then?  I wonder if I have slipped under God's radar.  I battle the thoughts that say I must have done something awful and I am being punished.  I cry out to God, "Where are you?  Will this string of bad things ever end?  Will you ever deliver us from this struggle?"

"You need a break" my therapist says as if she has read my mind. "Four years of pain and stress, your entire marriage.  Infertility and miscarriage, your husband takes on a second wife (his business), concerns about your daughter's development, a relative with cancer.  People will expect you to find peace with this and move on but no one would ever expect a person to find peace so soon if the deaths were of husbands, wives, parents or children who had been born.  Life has dealt you an awful lot of terrible things the past four years and your pain is very lonely.  Few people know what it is like to lose so many babies". She goes on, "What you really need is a break from the darkness.  You need life to be good again, happy again, for things to just go your way again.  And they will.  I can't tell you when but at some point they will.  This season of pain will not last forever.  Hard times will come again and your response to them will evolve but for now, you just need a break."  I start to cry.  No one has ever said this to me in all these trials.  No one has ever got it or understood how very tired I am or how much I long for a break.  It is very lonely and someone has finally validated this solitary road I walk along.  These are times that test us, they don't bring us close to our breaking point, they bring us to it and beyond.  These times break us and we must endure the time it takes to heal from the break.  I hear this and weep in my car....

I know I need You
I need to love You
I'd love to see You but it's been so long

I long to feel You
I feel this need for You
I need to hear You
Is that so wrong

Now You pull me near You
When we're close I fear You
Still I'm afraid to tell you all that I've done

Are You done forgiving
Or can You look past my pretending, Lord
I'm so tired of defending what I've become
What have I become

I hear You say
My love is over
It's underneath
It's inside
It's in between

The times that you doubt me
When you can't feel
The times that you question
Is this for real

The times you're broken
The times that you mend
The times you hate me
And the times that you bend

Well my love is over
It's underneath
It's inside
It's in between

The times that you're healing
And when your heart breaks
The times that you feel like you've fallen from grace

The times you're hurting
The times that you heal
The times you go hungry and are tempted to steal

In times of confusion
In chaos and pain
I'm there in your sorrow under the weight of your shame

I'm there through your heart-ache
I'm there in the storm
My love I will keep you by my power alone

I don't care where you've fallen or where you have been
I'll never forsake you
My love never ends
It never ends.

The times I doubt Him, the times I question Him, the times I am broken, when I am trying to heal, when my heart is broken and I hurt, the times when life is chaos and pain, in the midst of the storm, in these awful times He is above me when I look up and reach for Him, below me when I can't stand and fall, inside me as I walk this lonely road and in between this place of suffering and healing.  He is everywhere.  He loves me and nothing will ever change that.  Nothing can separate me from His love. "neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:39  And because of this I can believe my therapist when she says a break is coming.  I hold tight to that truth.  I believe it.  And because of it I once again do not feel stupid for still holding out hope of a little one who is now known only to God but who will soon be known by us.

I love you always and forever and no matter what.

Listen to Times by Tenth Avenue North

Worrying

I remember my 28th birthday vividly.  Three weeks prior I had miscarried my first child.  I was still reeling from shock and grief when my birthday came around.  The day my miscarriage was confirmed at the hospital, I came home and closed the door to my guest bedroom.  That was the room we were going to turn into a nursery for the baby.  The few cards, gifts and baby things we had purchased in those three months we were expecting were all stashed in that room and I couldn't bare to see them, so I just closed the door and it remained closed until my birthday.  For some reason that day I decided to go in.  I still remember laying on the bed, surrounded by all the baby things and sobbing while my husband sat beside me.  After crying and looking through all the baby's things, I walked out of the room, closed the door behind me and didn't open it again for months.  I felt a sad feeling every time I just walked by that room, which was 20 times a day since it is right beside my own bedroom. 

This week we took Riley's crib apart to move it out to make room for her new bed.  I saw a sticker on it, under the mattress.  It had the date it was delivered on it...1/29/2010, one year and one day exactly from the night I spent my birthday crying.  One year later, the same room that had once only reminded me of what I had lost was now birthing something new, was being transformed into a nursery for our miracle Riley who I was six months pregnant with.  The song I have sung at church many Sunday mornings echos in my mind, "You have turned my mourning into dancing.  You have turned my sorrow into joy".  God took the door to a room and a heart that had been closed and opened it, ushering in new life and joy with the opening.  That room is still Riley's room today.

If only I could have known that God had a baby coming for me, that He was going to redeem that pain and loss.  "Worrying does not take away tomorrow's troubles.  It takes away today's peace."  My mother-in-law sent that to me.  Certainly she knows all too well about worrying lately.  Between the two of us, she and I have had enough to worry about to last a life time.  "What if I miscarry again?  What if next time the baby makes it to 20 weeks, or 24 or 30 and then dies.  Could I survive that? What if the baby is born but isn't healthy?  Will my children even be close if they are so far apart in age?  Am I going to be too old to even keep up with a baby by the time I have another one?  What if I never have another one?"  Worry, worry, worry.  But it's true, worrying will not change what is to be and serves only to rob me of today's joy and peace.  Life, especially mine, must be lived one day at a time.  Today I have a healthy, beautiful daughter, an amazing husband and a family I love.  Let the peace of that seep in and save tomorrow's troubles for tomorrow.  God's grace will be there when they come.  "Don't worry about anything, but pray about everything.  With thankful hearts offer up your prayers and requests to God." Philippians 4:6.  I will fight the worrisome thoughts in my mind.  I will pray about them and release them to the only One who has any power to change them.  I will make my request and I will wait with patient endurance for Him to open the door once again. 

Don't Ignore the Signs

                                                             

In preparation for Resolve's theme for National Infertility Awareness Week coming up in April, the topic of not ignoring infertility continues...

Don't ignore the signs.  I do not proclaim to be an expert and I am not a doctor but here is what I have learned through my own experiences about the warning signs that you may be miscarrying or that you may have an underlying issue resulting in recurrent miscarriages.  One first trimester miscarriage is very common and not usually a cause for concern.  Most women who have an early miscarriage go on to have perfectly normal pregnancies the next time.  Two consecutive miscarriages is less common, still could be a fluke, but also a little more likely that there is an underlying problem.  If this is you the choice to seek testing and advice from a specialist is really up to you.  I did after my second one, but I'm pretty proactive about these things.  Three consecutive miscarriages is absolutely something that should be looked into further by your obgyn or a specialist.  You should now qualify for testing to see what is going on.  I know it is hard to face that there may be a problem.  You want to believe it is just a fluke.  You may blame yourself and be sure it was something you did.  But the sooner you find answers, the sooner you can get treatment and the sooner you will be holding your sweet baby.  Three consecutive miscarriages is not a fluke.  It's not your fault.  It's a health concern that needs to be addressed. 

Other obvious warning signs of a miscarriage include bleeding and cramping.  If you call your doctor and say you are bleeding and cramping you will (if your doctor is worth anything at all) get a first class ticket straight into your doctor's office for an appointment to check it out.  But here are a few more subtle signs that a doctor may overlook and you may have to push harder to have it checked out. 

A faint line on a pregnancy test.  If your period is several days or a week late and you are sure of when you ovulated then you really should get a dark line on a pregnancy test.  I don't want to scare a bunch of women into freaking out over how dark a line is.  There are too many variables that effect that.  But I can tell you this.  If you know for certain it has been 12 - 14 days since you ovulated, you are purchasing high quality (the expensive ones) pregnancy tests and you are testing with first morning urine then you should get an unmistakable positive on a pregnancy test if you are indeed pregnant.  If you meet all the above requirements and your line is still faint, something might be up.  My period was a week and half late with my first pregnancy and I still could not get a positive pregnancy test.  I even tested negative with a blood pregnancy test from my doctor's office.  I didn't finally get a positive until my period was two weeks late.  And I miscarried that baby a few weeks later.  I have had other pregnancies where I was 5 weeks pregnant and the line was still faint.  I miscarried those.  When I was pregnant with Riley, I tested a day before my period was even due and got an extremely clear, dark line immediately.  This is nothing to completely freak out over, but if you are recurrently miscarrying, this is definitely a sign I would pay attention to.  Your doctor can run blood tests to tell you for sure if your HCG is rising or falling.  It should double every two to three days in those early weeks.  If it is, that is a good sign.  If it's not, it is a sign you may miscarry.  

A low heart rate or absence of a fetal heart beat.  The first baby I ever conceived was seen on ultrasound at 6 weeks with a heart beat...a dangerously low one.  My doctor never mentioned a word to me about it.  She never gave me any indication that it was low or that there could be any problem.  When I went in again at 11 weeks my doctor could not find a heart beat with the doppler on my stomach.  She told me it was fine.  The baby was just in a weird position and she sent me home.  Two days later I started bleeding at home and was terrified.  If you go in for an appointment and you are 10 weeks or more and the doctor cannot detect a fetal heart beat by doppler, you should demand an ultra sound.  I didn't.  I didn't know any better.  There is some conflicting info on this, but generally your baby's heart beat should be between 120 and 180 BPM.  I left my first doctor after her mismanagement of that pregnancy.  When I first saw my new and current obgyn she reviewed my records and when she saw what my baby's heart beat was on that 6 week ultra sound, 102, she said, "That's too low.  If you had been my patient you would have been on bed rest and we would have been doing an ultra sound every week to follow up."  I just didn't know any better. 

Any loss, even your first one, after 12 weeks should be evaluated.  A loss after the first trimester is much more rare and in my opinion is an indicator that something is wrong.  It doesn't necessarily mean you will miscarry again, but it is certainly a big enough warning sign to at least take some steps to make sure nothing more serious is going on.  You would be surprised that many doctors will not test a miscarriage for chromosomal errors, especially if it is your first one.  But if you lose a baby after 12 weeks I would advise you to have the baby tested.  Knowing whether or not your baby had any chromosomal errors is huge.  If the baby had a chromosome issue, then it could just be a fluke but if the baby was healthy and you still miscarried, it is more likely there is some other issue that is causing you to miscarry.

Bottom line is this, I know many women who have miscarried once.  I know a few who have miscarried two or three times.  I know no one who has miscarried as many times as me.  No one.  It is a lonely place to be.  If you miscarry two or three times, that is your warning sign.  Something is going on.  Find out what it is.  You will never regret getting testing done.  If the tests all come back normal then you will have that peace of mind with your next pregnancy.  If you discover there is a problem, you will never regret seeking treatment and giving your next baby every chance possible to be carried safely to term.  Don't ignore the signs. 

Don't Ignore Infertility

"Riley!"  "Riley, stay over here please."  "Riley, please don't jump on the beds with your shoes on."  "Riley,  use your quiet voice."  A salesman approaches me, "Ma'am do you and Riley need some help?"  "Yes" I say, "We are looking for a bed."

I started looking for a big girl bed for Riley last December when I was pregnant and anticipating I would be moving her out of her crib to make room for the baby.  After the baby died, I kept Riley in her crib and have been procrastinating moving her ever since. Before she was even born I dreamed of her sleeping in that crib.  I brought my little baby home to that crib and she has slept in it for almost three years now.  For me, it's a big step to move her out of the crib.  It means she really is no longer a baby.  And if I'm being totally honest, after losing every child I have ever conceived with the exception of Riley, I battle the fear that something will happen to her too. Each night before I go to sleep I still feel her chest to make sure she is breathing, I still watch her on a baby monitor and I still use a SIDS monitor on her crib.  It just makes me feel better.  And after so much loss, a little reassurance goes a long way.  But you can't use a SIDS monitor on a regular bed, so I have been putting off the big move into the big girl bed.  But she's almost three and it's time.  So we go shopping for a new bed.  And as I chat with the 45ish year old salesman about coil count and durability and firmness he tells me that he has three children, a 29 year old, a 28 year old.....and a 5 year old.  "Yup, she was a surprise." he says and chuckles.  Seriously, this man and his wife in their 40's accidentally get pregnant and have a baby with no problem??  And then the knife right through my heart....he turns to Riley and says, "Riley, do you have any brothers and sisters?"  She looks at him like she has no idea what he is talking about and then repeats, "Broders and sitters?"  "No" I say to him, "It's just her."  "Well Riley tell your mommy she needs to get busy.  Every kid needs brothers and sisters!"  I can't believe I still purchased a bed from him.  And even more, I was nice and polite to him and didn't inconvenience him with my hysterics, but rather waited until I got home to start crying.  He has no idea how "busy" I have been trying to have babies for over four years now.  I have peed on hundreds of ovulation predictor kits and at least as many home pregnancy tests.  I have charted my temperature religiously.  I have been poked with needles more times than I can count.  I have agonized over a pink line and if it is getting lighter or darker than the one on the test I took the day before.  I have endured morning sickness and debilitating migraines all for the sake of babies I will never have.  I have stared at babies on ultrasound machines that I never got to meet in person.  I have never given up.  I have tried, tried and tried again.  I have pushed for tests that doctors are reluctant to order, I have traveled hundreds of miles from my home to see doctors, to find answers, to have a chance at hope again.  I have spent thousands of dollars.  And I have put myself back together every time I have lost a child.  If that's not busy then I have no idea what is.  

Unfortunately, this scenario isn't all that uncommon.  You would be amazed by how many strangers ask me when I am going to "give her a baby brother or sister", as if a baby is mine to give her.  As if I really have any say in that matter at all.  That is entirely up to God.  And why, oh why, do people say such stupid things?  If I have learned anything from this, I hope it is how to be a more sensitive person.  To know that everywhere around us, at the grocery store, on the interstate, at your kid's school, in Nebraska Furniture Mart are hurting people.  They may put on their make up and dress nice and masquerade around as totally happy, normal people.  But trust me, inside they are hurting and using a monumental amount of emotional energy to get through the exact errand that others may find to be so simple and just a part of their normal, every day lives.

RESOLVE, The National Infertility Association, is preparing for National Infertility Awareness Week beginning April 22.  The theme this year is "Don't Ignore Infertility".  I will be writing some posts on this topic in the coming months.  But for now, I would urge anyone reading this to do exactly that.  Don't ignore infertility, yours or someone else's.  Each day in the life of the woman struggling to have a baby is full of hidden land mines. She never knows when one will explode taking her completely by surprise and knocking her off her feet, taking the air right out of her lungs.  Strangers ask dumb questions, reminders of lost little ones pop up when least expected, new babies are conceived and born all around her while her womb and arms remain empty.  I read once that a survey was conducted that interviewed women who had experienced both infertility and a life threatening illness such as cancer.  Every women in the study rated her years of infertility as equal to or more painful and stressful than dealing with her life threatening illness.  This is tough stuff.  These women need time and space.  They also need love and support.   Know that each day could have been the day a salesman asked her why she doesn't have children (or more children).  Please don't ignore her.

I love you always and forever and no matter what.

Being Strong and Courageous

We are in the parking lot of a Chili's.  I am leaning over the backseat to get Riley out of her car seat.  I glance up and look through the windshield and see my husband meet my father in law on the sidewalk.  My father in law just looks at his son, says nothing and shakes his head back and forth.  Jason's head falls.  These two grown men stand there, heads town, eyes red and tears threatening to escape.  Before any words are said, I know.  We have been awaiting the results of these tests for weeks.  The latest treatment did not work and my mother in law's cancer is spreading.  We escape life for a few days and leave town, all of us together, my husband and in laws and Riley and I.  One little family with some pretty huge burdens to carry.

While crying our way through lunch at Chili's I receive a rather insensitive and upsetting text message from a friend who means well but just does not understand what we are going through right now.  Oh, and I have to board a plane in two hours.  I think we all know my views about the human body being 30,000 feet above the ground...it's dangerous and should never happen!  That's just my opinion.  I'm pretty sure we were the only people traveling with a child who carried a car seat on the plane.  Imagine a line of people trying to get to their seats in the narrow isle but they can't get by because Jason is haphazardly trying to secure the enormous car seat into a teeny tiny airplane seat.  He would just as soon let Riley sit in the regular seat....let my precious two year old teeny tiny baby girl sit unrestrained in a death machine (sorry for the dramatics) that will soon be catapulting us up to a place in the sky so high even birds don't fly up there, I don't think so!  Thankfully the rest of our weekend was not as difficult as those few hours at Chili's and on the plane were.  It was a weekend planned to celebrate good news or find some escape from bad news.  We were happy.  We were sad. We laughed.  We cried.  We were together, all weekend, our little family.

"Have I not commanded you be strong and courageous.  Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go." Joshua 1:9  Well I failed at that one.  I do every time I fly.  I try to be strong and courageous.  I try to not be afraid and I tell myself over and over again in my head that God is with us, watching over us, protecting us.  Then the voice enters, "If that's true then where was your God the six times you were pregnant and lost your babies?  Where is your God now that your only child's grandmother, who she is head over heals in love with, has cancer?"  "Get behind me Satan" I almost say out loud.  But then a mere bit of turbulence comes and my fight is over...."Jason" I say, "Get the stewardess over here now.  I need a drink!".  Isn't this how life is, we try so hard but when the bumps come we struggle, we question and we ask why, we turn to whatever we need to just get us through. 

Throughout the weekend I forced myself to think of things in light of my faith.  Six miscarriages.  Six unanswered prayers.  But how many times have I flown?  I can't even count all the times.  Definitely more than six, especially since I met my husband and his darn family that likes to travel so much (I love you dear Parkers! :) ) How many answered prayers is that?  Riley has fallen asleep and woken up safely every morning for almost three years now.  How many answered prayers is that?  Riley is perfectly healthy, growing, thriving and talking.  People once tried to scare us into thinking this may not be the case for her.  That's one huge answered prayer.  And the list goes on and on.  He blesses us abundantly, even on our darkest days.  We were never promised everything would go the way we wanted it to in this life.  And when I decided, when my mother in law decided, to give our lives to God we decided to let Him dictate our lives.  And we decided we would trust Him no matter what, even when it wasn't going the way we wanted.  I may not handle flying so well.  I am a nervous wreck for weeks before the scheduled flight, I am on pins and needles at the airport and it is nothing short of a panic attack as soon as we take off until the moment we land.  I may use anxiety meds and a few drinks to get me through (which, when timed just right, works quite well), I may not be strong and courageous as God commands, but I am strong enough and courageous enough to get on the plane.  To willingly and literally walk right onto one of my greatest fears.  Victims of cancer may not be strong and courageous every day.  But, at least the one I know (and actually I know two people I love who battle cancer right now) is strong enough and courageous enough to get out of bed every day, live her life bravely and boldly and all the while with a smile on her face.  We aren't perfect but we try.  We do our best.  And we thank God for His grace that covers us when we fall short.