On pregnancy after loss

As many of you already know, I’m pregnant! I wish I could tell you it’s been nothing but bliss and euphoria, but it hasn’t. Let me rephrase that, medically and physically speaking, it has been smooth sailing and mostly uneventful, and for that I am so grateful. What I mean is, emotionally and mentally it’s been exhausting. You see, pregnancy after multiple losses is hard to explain {read another woman's experience on pregnancy after loss here}. It’s downright scary and exciting all at the same time. There’s fear and hope, hesitance and longing, worry and wishing, doubt and confidence, all wrapped up in tangled mess of emotions. Not to mention the guilt you feel for even having struggled with these things! After all, you’re pregnant! Quit worrying and enjoy! Add to that the crazy pregnancy hormones and you’ve got yourself a woman that’s fit for straight jacket. Ok, not quite, but you get the idea. ;)

Our doctor told us beforehand that at the 10 week ultrasound, if all was well, we would be out of the “danger zone.” Sure, Doc, whatever you say. This was my fourth pregnancy. The previous three never made it past nine weeks. In fact, the doctor told us our chances of  miscarrying this one was doubled because I got pregnant so quickly after the last miscarriage. So, naturally (I can be such a Debbie Downer…but who could blame me!?) I assumed the worst and braced myself for another lifeless babe to be waiting for me on the other side of the screen. “And there’s the heart beat,” the ultrasound tech said very matter-of-factly. Steve inched his chair even closer to my side and squeezed my hand. That man, how did I ever get so lucky? What a sweetheart. Maybe one day I’ll get him to share the mans point of view on this subject. He just doesn’t know it yet ;)

Gut wrenching crying ensued on the drive home that day. Looking back I probably should’ve pulled over considering I could barely see through my blurred vision! Oh sweet, sweet release. I was trying so hard to be strong leading up to that point. I had sealed my heart so tightly that the emotions and the relief exploded out of the seams of my soul. I had been holding this pregnancy at arms length for so long, that when I finally allowed my heart to start to accept the good that was happening I couldn’t handle it. I was so used to crying tears of grief, but this time it was tears of joy.

Here I am, well into my second trimester, and thank God all is well so far. But, even at almost 22 weeks, I still struggle with doubt, fear and worry. Silly thoughts come into my head like, “If I start buying maternity clothes or set up the nursery, I’ll jinx myself!" or "Something terrible will happen if I allow myself to enjoy this pregnancy and let my guard down.” It’s a daily battle, but it’s definitely a lot easier than it was in those first weeks. It takes a lot of faith and trust and just taking those false thoughts captive.

In church recently, we sang Oceans{Where my feet may fail} by Hillsong United and then we read the scripture passage in Matthew 14 where Peter walks out on the water to Jesus. 

“So Peter went over the side of the boat and walked on the water toward Jesus.  But when he saw the strong wind and the waves, he was terrified and began to sink. “Save me, Lord!” he shouted. Jesus immediately reached out and grabbed him. “You have so little faith,” Jesus said. “Why did you doubt me?””

This is just what my heart needed to be reminded of. I need to constantly be asking God to increase my faith. As much as I know that this pregnancy is a blessing, it is also like walking on a raging sea with waves crashing around me. No matter what, I need to keep my eyes focused on Jesus. Every day I am learning how to open up my heart again, even at the risk of loss. I have learned that nothing in life is guaranteed, but I have also learned that life is full of unexpected blessings and surprises.

"When we lose one blessing, another is often, most unexpectedly, given in its place." –CS Lewis

Safe in the Arms of Jesus

Today I would've been thirteen weeks pregnant. The end of that dreaded first trimester. Why dreaded, you might ask? Dreaded because all I know within those first thirteen weeks is fear and loss. So, I pray and I wait. I keep it secret, for I can't bear celebrating too soon. It's too risky. I must stay calm. I must protect myself and keep my hopes at bay. I hope for the best, but expect the worst. This is all I know of the first trimester. This is all I know of pregnancy.

I grasp tightly to any symptom or sign my body might give to prove that I truly am pregnant. Any relief from these symptoms scare me. I pray that God would make me feel sick again. I worry and I wonder. I hold on desperately to my sanity and my faith. As waves of nausea and exhaustion take over, I am at peace. I relish in the fact that I get to eat saltines and sip on ginger ale. I proudly endure days of headaches without complaint in order to ween myself off caffeine. I embrace being the designated driver, and cheerfully turn down that glass of wine. After all, I'm pregnant! What a blessing! What a gift! What a miracle! And I grasp tightly to this this dream. This dream that has turned turned into reality. And I do not want to let go.

Today, we would've announced to the world that it was finally our turn. It was finally our turn to be the beaming parents to be. It was finally our turn to receive the "ohhs" and "ahhs"  and "congratulations!". It was finally our turn to be dancing instead of mourning and rejoicing instead of grieving.

 

Instead, I share with you, my dear friends and family, that we have yet again lost another sweet and precious baby. It all seems so surreal. Is this really happening again? My eyes close slowly and I take a deep breath. Another dream has evolved into a nightmare. More pieces of my heart is broken. Can it be?

You can hear the pain and agony in King David's words at the beginning of Psalm 13:

How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?
    How long will you hide your face from me?

How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
    and day after day have sorrow in my heart?

My soul ponders these words. I empathize with David. Another version says "How long must I endure trouble? How long will sorrow fill my heart day and night?" {I am perplexed at those who say God's Word is irrelevant to them. How can you get more real with your pain than this?} I wonder if I will ever see my belly grow or know the sweet pains of labor. I wonder. And I ask God, why? After all, I was doing just fine with my infertility. I was at peace, I was learning to be content. And then, when I least expected it, I get pregnant! Surely this miracle was from you, God! Surely You saw fit that we were ready to be parents and blessed us with this "miracle baby". Why else would you give this to us, unexpectedly {we were taking a break from fertility treatments}, only to take it away? I do not understand, Lord. And I am struggling. I am upset that I have to grieve all over again. Grieving is painful and exhausting. I am told this is necessary. And I know deep down grieving is healthy, but it hurts. I just want it to go away. I want to hide and live in ignorant bliss. I don't want to think that I now have two babies waiting for me in heaven, rather than here on earth where I can love them and hold them.

This past Sunday in church as we were singing, my heart heard the Holy Spirit whisper, "your babies are safe in the arms of Jesus." And I believed it with my whole heart. My soul felt comforted as tears began to fill up my eyes. I was recently reminded by a friend to not focus so much on the actions of God, but rather the character of God. We may never understand or know the answers to our "whys", but I know that God loves me and promises to never leave me. And that is something I can hold onto wholeheartedly. 

 

image via Pinterest

Even though I have never met my babies, I miss them so much. To think if my pregnancies had gone well and that I would be a mom to two is hard to wrap my mind around. All I can do is wait and wonder. To Whom It May Concern by The Civil Wars has touched my heart recently. I realize the context of the lyrics is referring to a person longing for and missing a future soul mate. But these lyrics....it's hard for me to not think of my lost babies. It's a beautiful song.

"Why are you so far from me?...In my arms is where you are to be....How long will you make me wait?...I don't know how much more I can take...I missed you but I haven't met you."

Four weeks ago we walked into the ultrasound room anxious and excited. I would've been nine weeks. I remember it was as though you could hear a pin drop right before the ultrasound technician told us she could not detect a heart beat. Our baby had stopped growing a couple of days prior. She said she was so sorry and left the room to allow us to soak in the bad news. I almost felt like I could laugh. Laugh out in disbelief. Of course the laughing didn't come. I cried and I cried. Steve wrapped his arms around me as my heart metaphorically shook its clenched fist up at God. I remember thinking as the tears flowed, "you've got to be kidding me!" and "this can't be happening again?!". We were in shock. And our hearts broke and we held onto each tighter than ever.

Dear friends, I covet your prayers. Our faith is weak, but our Savior is strong. And so we take one day at a time. We do our best to focus on the good, on the blessings. He has blessed us with so much. It's funny how during the trials is sometimes when its easiest to see the blessings. I was reminded once again how blessed I am to have Steve by my side. I know many days I take him for granted. I thank God we have each other to endure this process of grieving and waiting together. Although my heart is torn and tattered, it is bursting with joy and love for my marriage and my dear husband. And so we walk side by side, hand in hand, doing our best to keep our eyes focused on Jesus.

 

The end of Psalm 13 goes like this...

But I trust in your unfailing love;
    my heart rejoices in your salvation.
I will sing the Lord’s praise,
    for he has been good to me.

day 26: infertility and the bible

I thought this was a very interesting and thought provoking article about infertility and the church. Recently, a friend shared it with me. It explores the meaning behind 1 Timothy 2:15 which says "women will be saved through child bearing."

"We owe it to women, and to the truth, to explore the complexities of such a verse and be sensitive to teachings and practices that relegate or ignore the women in our midst who struggle to bear children, no matter how much they desire and pray to." -Sarah Arthur

{Tomorrow: a letter to my readers}

day 16: a difficulty in life

Life is filled with many difficulties indeed. I know I am much more fortunate than the majority of people living in the world today. It's hard to not turn this into a "woe is me" post. I hope you don't see this as a complaint. I am well aware how blessed I am. My life is good. But, there is one area of difficulty in particular that has been hard to ignore.

In more ways than one, something difficult about my lot in life has been and continues to be the struggle to get pregnant and have children. What comes easy{sometimes a little too easy it seems!} for many women, has been nothing but heartache and unknowns for me. I'd like to clarify, I'm not resentful of a new mom with her baby or upset at a  beaming mother to be with a bulging stomach. Mostly, I struggle with resenting how EASY is it for her to get pregnant and to have a child. For a lot of women, it's as simple as deciding when you want a baby, stopping all forms of protection, and BAM! Pregnant. It is hard to not be resentful when women get pregnant so easily, by accident, or to think how many don't even want to be pregnant! It's hard to NOT be resentful when we have gone through numerous medical tests, procedures, self injections, medications, attended countless appointments, and dished out a lot of money at an attempt at having what some women take for granted or simply choose to dispose of. I realize it sounds like I'm whining. I'm just trying to honest and real with you. It's just hard.

Traveling the scary road of infertility has changed my perspective on a lot. I feel a little bit more appreciative of what I do have, and a lot more sensitive about what others have and choose not to appreciate. That is all. And don't get me wrong! I know there are many wonderful, appreciative and loving mothers out there. I am honored to love and be loved by many of these mom's in my own life. Again, I know that I too am fortunate. I am beyond blessed. It's just very painful when I feel I've had that maternal instinct ingrained in me since I was a young girl, and yet keep coming up short changed. My journey with infertility is best described as a roller coaster ride. Up and down, up and down. Hope, then hopelessness. Success, then failure. It can be exhausting. I also am well aware that there are many other woman who have traveled the road of infertility a lot longer than I.

It has been 18 months since the miscarriage. My arms are still empty. My heart still has a hole in it. I'd be lying if I told you we were doing just fine. Sure, we have our moments. Moments of happiness, contentment and peace{in regards to infertility}. But, with that includes moments of denial, pretending we don't care or convincing ourselves that life is really better childless, anyway. We try. We try to be fine. I feel I have come a long way in adapting to this difficult 'lot' in my life. I know there is always hope. I know God has a plan, a purpose, and story tailor made just for me. I'm thankful for God's peace and love. I know He is good. But, it is still a very difficult thing to endure, nonetheless. Why can't I have a baby, Lord? Why are you making me wait{this long}? These questions flood my heart and mind. But, I know that God can see the bigger picture, and He has chosen to withhold that from me for now. So, I must trust. I must persevere. I must stay hopeful.

No matter what it is, a desire unfilled is painful. I'm sure many of you can relate.

Recently, I had the most vivid dream. I had a new born baby boy. He had the darkest, almost black, hair. I distinctly remember trying to nurse him. And then, I woke up. Surprisingly, I wasn't sad or upset by the dream. Instead, I was filled with hope. I felt the Lord saying to me, "be patient, Holly. In time, in time..."

I have hope that one day, I will be sombody's mommy. I don't know how or in what way exactly. But I will do my best to be patient in the meantime. I will do my best to treasure this childless phase in life with just myself and Steve. And, you can be sure I will most definitely relish in uninterrupted sleep. ;)

Thank you for letting me pour out my heart and thoughts to you. I know many are struggling with much more difficult and heartbreaking experiences. My heart goes out to you. But, please remember there is always hope. We have hope in the One who saves.

{Tomorrow: a favorite photo [of myself]}

learning how to breath again

In light of NIAW{National Infertility Awareness Week}, I wanted to share my story. My goal is not to make you sad or to receive pity, but to give hope and encouragement. I feel that by sharing your story, you can find healing.

It's funny how one makes plans and then life turns out all together different. Proverbs 19:21 says,{Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails}. This verse has always been a challenge to me{I'm a control freak!}, but at the same time an absolute comfort knowing that whatever happens in my life it is according to His plan. Our trials in life do not catch Him off guard.

21 months ago we decided to go off birth control and "see what happens". Within three months I was pregnant. I was shocked. No, in disbelief. Conceiving wasn't supposed to be this easy. You see,  my body doesn't exactly function "normally" in the sense of baby making. My cycles are extremely irregular due to a hormonal imbalance. So, I was expecting troubles and difficulties with bearing a child. In fact, I was down right at peace with it! I can still remember as if it were yesterday seeing the second pink line slowly appear on the pregnancy test. I can still recall the way my hands were shaking as I picked up the phone to call Steve. And believe me, if I really thought I was pregnant I would've never broke the news to the father to be over the phone! And all while he was as work, none the less. Poor guy, bless his heart. I was almost certain it couldn't be real. It was a mistake, a false positive. I could sense he too was shocked. Trying very hard to refrain his excitement he said, "take another test, just to be sure". So, that I did. Another positive. I remember standing in the shower just saying "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus". I don't remember if I was thanking Him or if I was just crying out in disbelief and hope at the same time. It was probably both.

Weeks passed as we informed our family and close friends of the good news. We were over the moon! At 7.5 weeks we got to see and hear our baby's heart beat. It was the most beautiful sound I have ever heard. It was the sound of life. And it was growing inside me.

Less than two weeks later, our dreams would come crashing down. They could not find the heart beat. The baby had died. There was no time for thinking or processing, the sobs just poured out of me. It felt as if someone was suffocating me. I could feel a physical heaviness on my heart. My soul literally hurt. As I'm typing out these words I am almost taken aback at the way my chest feels likes its being twisted into a knot. Though with time the hurt lessens, there will always be scar on my heart.

The months following the miscarriage were probably the darkest times of my life. I'm still working through the whys and wonder often what the purpose and reasons were for having to endure such a heartbreaking experience. I've asked myself, why would God allow me to get pregnant so easily{with my condition} only to have it taken away? What was the point of all that? How can you get over something like this? Even though my pregnancy only lasted nine short weeks, I will always cherish that time I had carrying my baby. I had planned and dreamed about a future with my child. Just like any mother to be might do, I wondered what he or she would look like, I wondered about personality traits. I obsessed over what we would name the baby, and the list goes on.

Looking back, I am so thankful for the wonderful support we had from our family and friends. My heart will be forever sensitive and burdened for couples that experience the grief of pregnancy loss. It is a hard road traveled. I will never be the same again. I can honestly say my faith has never been tested more.

I also think God was{and still is!}asking me to trust Him, to really trust Him. I have been pondering the words of Job{1:21} despite his great suffering: {"The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.”} The Lord gave me this pregnancy. And for reasons I will probably never understand, He took it away. But, He has proven to me over and over again that through all of this pain, He has never left my side. I can distinctly remember numerous times of crying myself to sleep and only being able to utter the Name of Jesus. I could feel His presence. I could sense His loving arms wrapped around me. I could hear Him gently whisper "trust me, I love you, I have hope and a future for you". {see Jeremiah 29:11}.

Oh Lord, it still hurts so much. Even after 16 months. But, I have learned what it means to be completely dependent on God, because He was all I had left. I was at a cross roads. I could choose to either trust Him, or allow bitterness and anger to reside in my soul. I have chosen to say "Blessed be the name of the Lord", even in the midst of my suffering.

Whatever I am going through, I have found it is always worth it to choose Him. He is worth every question and heart ache I have. Because when all else fails, He is the only Faithful One. He is a Constant. My heart is comforted knowing He is in control. His unfailing love has been slowly and gently untwisting the knot in my soul. He is the true Healer, and I am learning to breath again.

{I got my first tattoo in memory of my angel baby. It's a celtic heart that represents "motherhood"}

NIAW

I recently found out that April 21-27 is NIAW{National Infertility Awareness Week}. You can read more about it here. I also stumbled across a blog called A Royal Daughter that has really inspired me to share my journey with you all. For the past four years, she too has been suffering through the journey of infertility. Her blog will be dedicated to infertility awareness for the entire week. It's her hope to offer encouragement and helpful resources for couples facing infertility, as well as for friends and family members of the infertile couple. I highly recommend you take the time to read through it. I know that my heart has already been encouraged by it.

A few facts about infertility: {taken from Amanda's blog}

• Approximately 1 in 6 couples in the United States are diagnosed with some degree of infertility each year. 
• "Infertility" defines the inability to conceive a child after one year of unprotected, well-timed intercourse for women under the age of 35. Women 35 and older may be diagnosed after 6 months of unprotected, well-timed intercourse without conception. (The inability to sustain a pregnancy beyond 20 weeks is also classified as "infertility.")
• 30% of infertility is the result of an ovulatory dysfunction (i.e. there is a problem with the woman's ovulation cycle).
• 30% of infertility is the result of a problem with the man (i.e. sperm structure or production).
• Women who face infertility often describe their situation as "lonely," "isolating," and "painful."
• There is a large spectrum of treatments for infertility, with varying degrees of invasiveness and cost.

By sharing my story, I hope in some way that I can help or encourage those who are or know someone dealing with the pain and loneliness of infertility. You are not alone.

vulnerability

I debated on when or If I should write about my journey with infertility. Do I really want to air out my dirty laundry, revealing the hurt and growing pains that come along with a trial such as this? Labeling it a trial just doesn’t seem to cut it. It’s a season in my life, and a chapter that has been ongoing. Ongoing for nearly 21 months.  I have decided, yes, I WILL write about it. After all, this is my life. This is where I’m at right now. It’s a part of me, whether I like it or not. As I process and work through this trial, I am reminded of the apostle Paul's words in 2 Corinthians 12...{“So to keep me from becoming proud, I was given a thorn in my flesh…"} I feel ya, Paul. This thorn hurts, and it's not going away. At least for now.

Paul continues in verse 8 {“Three different times I begged the Lord to take it away…”} Again, I second that Paul! Although, If you multiply “three” by 100 you’ll get a better idea of how many times I’ve asked the Lord to take this away from me. But, oh how I’ve grown and changed and grown some more! Reflecting back on these past two years, I can honestly say my faith has been strengthened and my perspective has broadened. My heart has been humbled. I am learning surrender and what it truly means to trust Him.

Along the way, I have experienced(and still do!) the ugliness of self-pity. Self-pity is a beast. Allow it to take hold and it pulls you down to places you wish you hadn’t gone. Places of fear, doubt and anger. For a time, it feels pretty darn good to not fight anymore, to allow the feelings of envy and self-centeredness do what they will. But, it’s not a good place. If not careful, it will harden the heart and turn cold the soul.

I have found there’s only one way to replace life draining feelings to life giving. Prayer. Talk to God. Pray His Word. I love how Paul concludes with stating {“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness’.”} And for me, that weakness is infertility. It's a weakness out of my hands; out of my control. When I feel like throwing in the towel, I do my best to recall to mind a piece of truth from the Word. A promise to hold onto with all my might. He will pull through for me, He will provide grace and strength abundant. This is how His power is made perfect. He wants me so desperately to cling onto Him. To trust Him. To rest in Him. And so for now I will {“Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart, and wait for the Lord.” Psalm 27:14}.

::When my soul is dry and heart is heavy, His Word quenches and renews::

At the end of verse 8, Paul declares {“Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.”} I feel like that is a good enough reason to share about my weakness. About my hurt and this thorn. It’s to somehow, someway bring Glory to God. It's to allow Him to work in and through me. It's so I can see and taste and touch His faithfulness, goodness, and love. {"That is why, for Christs sake, I delight in weaknesses...in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong."vs 10} And for that, I am thankful.