I Don't Think you Understand...

...nearly two years ago, we had a miscarriage.   Tomorrow we get to meet our second child, our blessed baby boy. And we know our life is never going to be the same.  We know we'll have sleepless nights, our social life will be non existent, our house will be messy... "and remember, you wanted this..." Yes.  We've longed for this. What you don't understand is that we've been waiting for this for 2 years. We can't wait to hear the cries in the middle of the night, I can't wait to nurse my son in his rocking chair at 1:45am when the rest of the world is quiet, we can't wait to change diapers, to hold our baby in our arms and know he is safe and comfort him and hear him coo. We can't wait for our life to change.  This "change" was taken from us two years ago and we've longed for it ever since. 

So if I tell you, here in my third trimester, that I'm tired, that I'm so ready to feel normal again, don't tell me we'll never sleep again, don't tell me our life will never be the same; we are beyond blessed and so ready to start on a new path and welcome our baby boy. We know our lives are about to change and we've been looking forward to it, to our son in our arms for 2 years.  

Miscarriage is a horrible thing and unless you've had one or even tried for years to conceive, you can't know just how anticipated those sleepless nights are.  We are excited to welcome our first born into the world tomorrow and can't wait for you to meet him. 

"Lord, you are my God; I will exalt you and praise your name, for in perfect faithfulness you have done wonderful things, things planned long ago." Isaiah 25:1

"being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." Philippians 1:6 

And he is our promise from God. Our good work that he created in me that will come to completion on his birthday, March 7, 2014 and live to glorify God.  For we will praise God for he has done wonderful things, things planned long ago - and we can't wait to see that plan unfold. :)

Our Little Blessing

The sorrow may last through the night, but JOY comes in the morning!

On October 15th we lit our candle for our precious Olive baby.  We lost her at 8 weeks and 2 days on September 17th, 2012.  Our first doctor told us on September 11th (my grandmother's birthday) that she was gone and refused to give us a second set of blood work so we could know ourselves for sure.
Our second and current doctor granted us the blood work we wanted and confirmed our worst nightmare on my birthday, Sept. 17th.  Worst month of my life.
This September 2013, we mourned, but we also celebrated.  On National Infant and Pregnancy Loss Awareness Day, we lit Olive's candle.  We prayed for Olive, we prayed for all the other babies and children taken too soon and their parents.  We cried.  But we also CELEBRATED.
Though the sorrow may last through the night, the JOY always comes in the morning.  And might I also suggest that JOY comes in the MOURNING.  We mourned the loss of our first child. We had great friends who helped us through that time and JOY came from the mourning.  I find great JOY in my friendships that have formed as a result.  I find great JOY in the bond that our loss formed in my husband and I. And though I would never wish to go through a miscarriage again or even relive Olive's pregnancy, we walked through something that made us stronger.  We formed lasting friendships with other couples, we have a story... a testimony to tell of God's great LOVE. Don't get me wrong, I'd love to have Olive in my arms right now, but I can't know GOD'S PLAN. I do trust that He has one and that He knows what is best for my husband and I.

Fast forward to the MORNING.  Here we are at 1+ years later and 23 weeks pregnant with Olive's sibling. The sorrow may last through the night, the JOY always comes in the morning. We are thrilled but at the same time anxious.  Though I've heard so many say that at least you know in your womb your child is safe, but I feel just the opposite.  As much as I can try to eat well and do the right things, I feel I have no control over what goes on in my own body.  I CAN'T WAIT to see my son and hold him in my arms and know without a doubt that he is safe and that when he cries, I can COMFORT him. 

At this point in the pregnancy, I'm beginning to feel our baby move and kick and stretch... With every movement I fall more and more in LOVE. The days that he is very active, I'm head over heels.  The days he spends napping, I'm most anxious and every kick is a reassuring SMILE. I love his movements, I love reading about each week and what that week means for my baby. This week he's the size of a pomegranate. I love pomegranates. Best fruit ever. I'll probably go to the grocery store and hold one to my belly this week. The brilliant red color and perfect shape of the pomegranate is beautiful to me. How much more BEAUTIFUL is the miracle of a child from week 1 to week 39? Through the rough 1st trimester, the blessed 2nd trimester, and the weary 3rd trimester, the JOY certainly comes in the MORNING. 

And yes, our baby is a bouncing baby boy! We found out at 19 weeks. And I had a gender reveal in my office. 

Motivation has returned...

One year ago in May we first started trying to get pregnant. 10.5 months since we lost our first baby. And it's taken that long for me to get my motivation back.

Motivation to work in my garden, motivation to do normal household chores, to do anything I once enjoyed. Even the motivation to read is coming back, although, admittedly,that was lost when I graduated college.
I can't believe it's taken this long.
My garden is looking great, though I do still have some weeding to do and a flower needs relocating.  Micky and I want to do so much to the yard and to the house, but it's time and money we don't have right now.
But I think it'll happen slowly and surely...

Mother's Day... and small victories.

Who knew choosing a Mother's Day card could be so difficult...
Started out glancing through them, but with each one I picked up, trying to find the perfect one for my own mother, the tears just started coming.
It hurt. It physically hurt. I could feel the hole in my heart and... it..hurt.
So there I was, right by the front door of the store, tears in my eyes... I had to walk away. People just walking in and I'm sure the cashier probably thought I was crazy.
I went about my business and left as soon as I could.

When I got to my car the tears were still there, but the flood didn't start until I pulled into my own driveway. I felt an emptiness, I felt it all the way home... Hollow and alone. I sat in my car for a good 10 minutes and cried. Because I didn't know what else to do, I cried.
I asked God to hold me, I longed for my grandmother because I knew she would understand.

God, hold me. Keep me. Help me to know your plan. To accept your plan.
Because I'm lost. I don't know what to do, what to feel... Is what I am feeling, well founded?
Three people I know are pregnant and weren't even trying. Are my thoughts well founded when I ask, "why them, and not me?"

In the time since the miscarriage, I've learned of a lot of friends and family who have had miscarriages. I wouldn't wish it on anyone, but I am realizing how common it actually is. Of my close circle of friends from college, 4 of the 5 whom have gotten married have had children. Each of them carried to term and had healthy pregnancies. So when I became pregnant, though I knew of the fears, I hadn't given thought to what might happen.

So WHEN it happens again, my husband corrects me constantly that it's "when" and not "if" we get pregnant again, there will be fears... many more than before, but I'm learning through all this that I must put it in God's hands. I must give this to God. I must give my fears, my anger, my sadness, my questions, my feelings, and especially my future to God. I must learn to (as cliche as it sounds) let go and let God.

I feel myself growing through this, I feel us growing through this and my hope is that sooner, rather than later we'll have good news. But of course, it's all in God's time.

I updated Olive's memorial shelf today and I thought I'd share the difference. Today, I threw away flowers that had been given to me after the miscarriage. I had dried them and carefully and lovingly put them back in the vase they had come in and placed them on the shelf with Olive's sonogram and memory box.
As small a gesture it may seem, it's a huge step for me. I'm letting go a little bit at a time and it feels good. I love that Olive is a part of our house. You can't come in and not see her. She's a part of us that I don't want to keep hidden. Which, I guess is another reason I'm writing this blog. Most of you who know me, know that I love to write. It's how I deal with life. So here it is; while I try to put my life back together and get our house in order, I'd like to share our story. Thank you for reading and following along but more than anything, thank you for the prayers.

This is The Story of Emersyn Olivia

She was just a sparkle in her parent's eyes. She was joy, she was excitement, she would be their first child. They were on their way to starting a family, and though the reality had not quite set in, excitement grew as Olive grew inside her mother's belly. The morning sickness was tolerable, the many trips to the bathroom, even the occasional smell that turned her stomach; it would all be worth it. Though it would be gone soon, the 12 week mark was quickly approaching.
But Olivia's mom hadn't yet been to her first prenatal appointment; the first would be at 8 weeks. There were still so many questions and fears racing through her mind. Olive was their first child and she didn't know what was safe to eat or what activities she could participate in. She was constantly checking the internet for safe foods, what kind of cheese could she eat, what salad dressings have raw eggs... She worried like any first time mother would. And as her friend Amy would tell her, this would be only the beginning.
Olive was a nickname they had given her because at 8 weeks, she was the size of a green olive. Her mom was excited, yet nervous as the day had come for her first prenatal appointment. Going to the doctor always made her nervous but this time was different. This time it wasn't just about her. This time she would hear her baby's heartbeat.

Except she didn't. Even after a second ultrasound. The doctor insisted her baby was gone, but she couldn't believe it. She had found friends on an April Baby's forum who hadn't heard heartbeats until 12 weeks. Baby Olive could be turned around, there could be so many simple things keeping the heartbeat from being heard. But the doctor persisted and recommended a d&c the next week. She wouldn't even give her the blood tests to confirm. But Olive's mom knew better. She wouldn't just take the doctor's word for it, she wanted the blood tests, she wanted to be sure.
A friend recommended another doctor, a Christian doctor. Olive's parents would see him in a week's time. They held out hope, they prayed, their friends prayed, everyone was praying that Olive would be okay. But before the appointment, blood tests had been taken to test her mom's HCG levels. The results weren't good. On the day of the appointment, there was still a small ray of hope but their worst fears had been confirmed by the blood test, her numbers had dropped considerably. The third ultrasound confirmed that baby Olive had stopped growing at 8 weeks 2 days. Emersyn Olivia was watching her parents from above, she would always be their little angel in Heaven.

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of emotions and activity.
On Sept 25th, Olivia's mom had to go to the Med Center to get blood work done for the d&c the next morning. Every nurse she encountered asked why she was there and she just wanted to scream. As her mom and dad left that day, some sort of cruel twist of fate played the baby lullaby as a baby had just been born upstairs. Her mother nearly fell to the floor but grabbed onto her daddy and they walked quietly out to their car, tears streaming from her mom's face.
Early the next morning was the d&c. Everything went smoothly and before she knew it, she was back home resting on the couch. Some friends had set with Olive's daddy as he waited for his wife's procedure to be over. These friends had been and would continue to be a great support for Olive's parents.

In the month of October I've fought back anger, jealousy, fear, sadness... Every pregnant woman I saw, every newborn; it was a struggle to make it through each day.
And yet, somehow I did. With a wonderful supporting husband and a Sunday School class that seemed God ordained and still does. We joined a new Sunday School class in August (before we knew we were pregnant) in which the teachers, a man and wife had suffered through 2 miscarriages and came out victorious. They now help others through a blog and ministry of their own. Without their wisdom and support, I'm not sure we would be doing as well as we are now, here in November and beginning to try for baby #2.
I work with one of the coordinators of that class and she has been a great support as well; there were many times when I had to leave work or just needed a shoulder to cry on in the office and she was always there. Her and her husband were at the Med Center the morning of my d&c also and I will never forget that or the sweet kiss to my forehead from her husband (he said it was a dad reaction). I didn't mind. Loved it, actually. Our Sunday School teacher was also there to sit with Micky in the waiting room as he waited for me to come out of my procedure. Everything went well and the doctor, Dr. Justin Gayle our new doctor (whose wife has also suffered through a miscarriage) has been great and was actually recommended by our Sunday School teachers.
It's been an incredibly hard 2.5 months. Something I would never wish on anyone. And yet despite my sadness, despite our sadness at losing our first child, I keep seeing and hearing stories of babies born with defects, born only to pass away a short time after, a couple who can't get pregnant... I'm not sure I could be as strong as these women whose stories I've heard in the last month. My heart and prayers go out to them. And at the same time, I have to know that maybe just maybe this is God's way of keeping our baby protected from something unforeseen. Or keeping us from something. God knows what we can handle right? He knows us better than we know ourselves and He's not going to allow us to go through something we can't handle.

I began writing this in late October, early November and now here I am in April. Facing the month of what would have been my daughter's birth. It's been 9 months and though I am not getting to meet my little girl face to face this month, I want you, my family and friends, to meet my Olive. Her birthday would have been today, April 16th. I had chosen not to remember this date, but unbeknownst to... myself, I had put it in my phone. Only to find it last week and realize what a great day to tell her story, to tell our story.

We are still trying for baby #2 and realizing just how difficult it is to find out each month that no, we are not pregnant yet. We will, prayerfully talk about this challenge and make a decision this month as to whether we will see the doctor to get help. I've been faced with the fact that it just may not be our time yet, but if that were the case, I have to ask why our Olive was given life. I know God has a plan, and I know this story is going to touch someone; there's a reason and a season for everything even though we may not understand it. God's ways are mysterious and confusing and great, and I put my trust in Him. We put our trust in Him. He's working in our life, we just have to step aside and let Him.

(As a side note; I don't know for sure if our baby was a girl. But I had a dream in which I was giving my daughter to my grandmother, introducing them for the first time. In the dream I called her Emersyn Olivia. I believe this dream was God's way of telling me my baby was with Him and my grandma. It gave me a peace. I had this dream shortly before the d&c.
And now a friend of mine tells me she's had a dream where she talked to my grandmother and my grandma told her we were expecitng... *fingers crossed*)