The Same Pain

I went to my very first support group meeting this week. I was really uncertain about going to one. I wasn’t sure how it would make me feel or if it would be any more helpful than a glass of wine and a good book, (or Christmas movie as has been the case this month). Never the less I attended Common Threads, (a group sponsored by the agency we’re adopting through, Bethany Christian Services), and I was very pleasantly surprised at what I found there. It was the same pain. It sounds dramatic for what it really is but it’s the best way I can think of to describe it. Here we were a group of people all experiencing different journeys of grief and disappointment, but arriving at the same place, the same point of pain.
It was like being instantly understood and accepted because each of us in one way or another had a common denominator, we all wanted and didn’t have children. Most were there due to fertility issues, none had buried a child like we had, and certainly not 3, but in all honesty who has? I thought I would feel like a freak, or that I wouldn’t (or they wouldn’t) be able to relate. But that wasn’t the case at all. It was quite the contrary actually. Here were couples, who were waiting, just like us; who were experiencing feels of loss, disappointment, fear, and isolation. For the first time I was in a whole room of people struggling with the same emotions, wrestling with the same frustration, and sharing with the same raw honesty I have found so beneficial. I felt so comforted, so safe…so understood. It didn’t matter that I joined this group under far different circumstances than most of them, because the reason we were there was the same one. We needed people in our lives that knew what “this life” felt like.
I have found you can have all the most wonderful friends and family, and plenty of encouragement around, and still feel so lonely. Like everyone else got an invitation to the party, and yours got lost in the mail. I am finding that as much as I love and appreciate everyone who has been so wonderful and encouraging to us, I needed to know at the end of the day I wasn’t the only who felt this way.
There’s something so healing and encouraging in finding common ground, in discovering companionship with others who know, the same pain.

Wait, wait, wait

All I have to say is Good Grief! I just can’t get away from it. It seems like pretty much everyone I know (and don’t know) just welcomed a baby or is pregnant with one. It’s in my face everywhere I go, I can’t seem to get away from it. I try to grin and bear it, I try to mange my emotions, but it’s so incredibly frustrating to see people all around me get what just doesn’t seem to come to fruition for me…a baby. Why I ask, what am I missing, what is wrong with me that can’t seem to become a parent. Why all this grief, why all this pain, this hurt, this waiting. When will it be my turn to be the mom, or am I forever to be Aunt Andrea, 2nd mommy to everyone else’s children? I ask God all the time, when will my baby get here? I pray constantly that He’ll end my torment and give me a child, that a birthparent will pick me, or miraculously make me pregnant and heal me so I can carry a child to term. Sometimes I’m emboldened and I pray for both.
And yet still here I am…facing the holidays with an empty nursery, as the baby shower invites keeping rolling in, and the blasted Take-Them a Meal notifications keep coming for yet another new mom, and/or growing family. I don’t want to be mean, I don’t want to say no; I still want to engage with my friends and community around me, but really, what’s a girl to do? Trying to be positive and keeping up hope is incredibly draining when the life you wish you had swirls around you constantly in the happy faces of family in friends, but it’s perpetually just out of your reach.
I keep thinking God will soon bring me out of this, but the fear sets in that this will somehow always be the way it is…that somehow I’m supposed to just be grateful for what I do have and stop focusing on what I want and don’t have. But I don’t think that’s what He’s asking of me. Truthfully I’m getting the feeling He’s just asking me to wait. My time will come and our parental hopes and dreams will be fulfilled, but I’ve just got to hang on till then. Easier said than done of course, and all the “new baby merriment” certainly isn’t helping matters. Never the less I persevere, because after all what’s the alternative? Being bitter, grumpy and mentally throttling all the happy new and/or expanding families? That’s not really my style. Nope, instead I guess for now I’m just going to have to suck it up…and wait. That, and maybe indulge in a little extra wine and chocolate. :)

Thankful

Now that Thanksgiving is over (I have a strict policy on giving every holiday it’s due), I have been indulging in non-stop Christmas music. As I was listening to Josh Groban’s “Thankful,” the lyrics struck me in whole new way today. I’ve listened to this song multiple times a year, but today as I was processing a past holiday with family (new and old) and looking towards upcoming festivities as well, the words take on new meaning to me. We do pray for what we know will one day be our family, and we choose to hope for it every day; even though sometimes it feels so far away. In the mean time though I remember we have each other, loving friends and family, and so much more. There is still hope and joy to have.

So, even though things may not be what we thought they’d be this holiday season, there’s still so much to be thankful for.

"Thankful"

Somedays we forget
To look around us
Somedays we can't see
The joy that surrounds us
So caught up inside ourselves
We take when we should give.

So for tonight we pray for
What we know can be.
And on this day we hope for
What we still can't see.
It's up to us to be the change
And even though we all can still do more
There's so much to be thankful for.

Look beyond ourselves
There's so much sorrow
It's way too late to say
I'll cry tomorrow
Each of us must find our truth
It's so long overdue

So for tonight we pray for
What we know can be
And every day we hope for
What we still can't see
It's up to us to be the change
And even though we all can still do more
There's so much to be thankful for.

Even with our differences
There is a place we're all connected
Each of us can find each other's light

So for tonight we pray for
What we know can be
And on this day we hope for
What we still can't see
It's up to us to be the change
And even though this world needs so much more

There's so much to be thankful for

The Faith Formula

I've been going through a book by Joni Eareckson Tada "A Lifetime of Wisdom, Embracing the way God Heals You" and I have to say out of all the books people have given me over the past few years this one has spoken into my life and helped me the most. It's as if God is is talking directly to me through the pages. This morning was no exception.

I've been really struggling with feelings of frustration, of helplessness and jealously lately. It seems almost everyone around me receives the blessings (in tenfold) that I keep praying for but keep being taken from me. We've been learning about Abraham in church the past couple weeks and I was really connecting with the fact that God made him promises that he had to wait a long time for (and also some he never even saw realized in his lifetime). I'm not comparing my life to Abraham's obviously, (they're incomparable) but I did find it comforting and eye opening that faith & trust when you're suffering and wondering if God will ever redeem the situation is difficult; difficult but attainable.

So as I was reflecting on some of these thoughts this morning I cracked open my Joni book and read these words...
"Why does God allow some of His deeply loved sons and daughters to go through trials of the body and spirit? Because if they receive that suffering with faith and joy, that supernatural "chemical reaction" will supercharge the message of His's sons love. And the suffering one will have the privilege of a life impact that may keep echoing and echoing beyond their years...The power of the Good News is released in your life when you allow your weakness to showcase the awesome might and love of our Savior. When we serve Him and model Him in our suffering, we have opportunities to extend His salvation father than we ever could in our strength."

This is a great encouragement to me in a time where I have been really struggling with feeling sorry for myself and being angry at my present situation. I needed this reminder that if I continue to open myself up and pursue faith and trust with joy I can have a far greater impact for the kingdom. I've been given an opportunity, (not that it always feels like that, but I have none the less), and I can chose to be bitter and reject it, or I can choose to embrace it and let God show me what He can do with it. Something, (or someone...thank you Joni), tells me the latter of the two is the better and more rewarding option.

Perspective

Keeping perspective; sometimes it’s so much easier said than done don’t you think? Here we are an official waiting family now. It’s what we’ve been working towards since we decided to pursue adoption back in late spring after we lost our little Noah. You would think I’d be excited, full of anticipation, but alas it’s only been two weeks since we received word we were officially certified and already the wait is getting to me. Of course I have 3 close friends with babies due to arrive soon and an adorable nephew that reminds me all the time what joy a child can bring to your life, so naturally it doesn’t help me much in maintaining perspective in my own life. We were warned it’s hard to be a “waiting family.” Never knowing when you could get a call, and when you do wondering if the birthparent will change their mind. It’s such a vulnerable place. All our hopes and dreams of being parents now lie in the hands of the choices of another. It’s kind of crazy when you think about it. And yet here we are, putting ourselves out there again, pursuing parenthood with hope and determination that this time it will work… it has to right!?!
I keep praying for God to bring us a child swiftly and smoothly, but I know that’s not necessarily the case. Nothing about our journey has been swift or smooth so why would I think it would start now? Never the less, I persevere and ask for specifics because I know God says we can, and should. After all He knows what’s really in our hearts anyway…might as well just tell Him. So I do.
I tell Him I’m scared. I tell Him I still don’t totally understand what He’s doing with our lives, why He let ALL our children die, but that I’ll continue to cooperate with Him because I choose to trust Him. I tell Him I really want a baby by Christmas, even though I know He may not bring me one then. I tell Him some days my heart just hurts, and I wonder if that will always be the case. I know everyone has their own loss to grieve, but often mine feels so weighty, I wonder if there are many that understand this kind of sorrow. I’m sure there are, I just haven’t met many.
I tell God all these things…often. Sometimes I have to stop whatever it is I’m doing because if I don’t get it out somehow, I feel like it might suffocate me. It’s hard to keep going at times like that, but somehow perspective still comes. I know all is not lost; His mercies are new every morning. I know any day could be the day we get a call to say there’s a baby for us; and that someday that void in our lives will finally be filled. No it won’t bring my children back, and yes I will probably still have those days when my heart hurts; but I’ll have even better perspective.

Day of Remembrance

Today is the Day of Remembrance for those who have suffered the loss of a child. I think any parent who has lost a child doesn't really need an official day to remember the children they've lost, not a day goes by that I don't think of Bean, Brennan, Evie and Noah, but it is comforting to know that people all over the country today are doing the same thing.

When I think about my children, I still dearly miss them, but I also take comfort in knowing that they are in a place where there is no sorrow, no pain...and I will one day be with them again. Remembering is good, but knowing my little ones are with their heavenly father waiting for their earthly parents to join them comforts me far more.

Morning Encouragement: Trust

I was feeling stressed and anxious about our home inspection today and so I was spending some much needed time praying and journaling. A sweet friend had given me a journal with inspirational quotes and scripture as part of the design, and so as I was writing about how I feel and trust that God is about to do something amazing with us I glanced down and saw the following scripture:

"Daughter you took a risk in trusting Me, and now you're healed and whole. Live well, live blessed!" Luke 8:48 The Message

It is a moment I want to remember now, when whatever life befalls next might cause my faith to falter. I believe God will and does bless those who remain faithful, who choose to trust through difficult and trying times. Its certainly not easy...it is a risk, but that's why I think God will honor it, because in spite of everything we trusted anyway.

Expectancy…not Expectations

So much has happened since last I posted to my blog. It seems like August just flew by, but we are happily making our way through the final stages of our adoption certification process. Ironically paperwork is not that overwhelming when you’ve just been through what we have. In fact, it often felt good to check one more thing off the list and take another step forward. Not to mention when you have an empty nursery you’re tired of seeing as such, it can be very motivating.
So as we’re rounding the bases of our Home Study, (that baseball metaphor is in honor of my husband) it’s brought to light so many thoughts & feelings in me. One of which is, for the first time I am NOT afraid. I should be freaked out; my status of motherhood now resides pretty much completely in the hands of a total stranger. I will be waiting for a woman or even a young girl perhaps to choose ME to raise her child as my own. Other than saying yes or no I don’t really have any control over this situation. For someone who desires order and consistency in a rhythms and patterns I dictate, this process of adoption should cause me to go crazy, (and perhaps it still will at some point)…but for right now I am uncharacteristically calm. It’s almost eerie. I am excited, content and truly at peace.
Of course it’s all a miracle performed by my Maker, I’d never be able to do this of my own volition and I’m not medicated or anything. I just think for the first time in a long while I can hear Him whispering to me, “Be at peace, they’re coming. The children are coming.” And so I trust the day will come. I’ve no idea how or when, but it will come, and we will welcome a baby home. I know He can do wondrous things, and I believe this isn’t the end of our journey, so I’m open…in a way I don’t think I’ve ever been before. I’m expectant, instead of harboring expectations.
It’s a better place to be really, as my parent’s pastor illuminated this past weekend. Expectancy allows for wonder, it opens the doors for God to surprise and bless in a way only He can imagine, instead of holding expectations for how we think or want Him to show up. I’ve seen and lived through God showing up in miraculous ways, and although the results were not what I wanted, or what I expected, He showed up all the same. I think it’s because of this that I understand the distinction. Amidst so much uncertainty, if I open up wide enough, the pain and grief mingle with trust and hope and I can rest and wait, with expectancy…not expectations.

Everything In Its Time

Two new babies born to friends this past week and "life" in general had me feeling so distressed and overwhelmed. Thank you Corrine May for some much needed perspective today.

"Everything In Its Time"
~ Corrine May

Sometimes I wonder what lies ahead
How long till my hunger is fed
They say it's hard to make it in this part of town
So many people on this merry-go-round

Some folks try astrology
Some turn to crystal balls
To find an answer,
To get through it all
I just fall on my knees and I try to pray
In the silence I can hear Him say

The river runs and the river hides
Out to the ocean and under the sky
I promise you, the answer will come
Hold on to patience and watch for the sign
Everything in its time

I often feel like I'm two steps behind
Somebody must have moved that finish line
There are a thousand reasons
Why I should give up
But I'm stubborn in the things I believe

The river runs and the river hides
Out to the ocean and under the sky
I promise you, the answer will come
Hold on to patience just watch for the sign

'cause maybe there's another plan
One I still can't see
A little surprise, like your love in my life
Funny how time changes how we see

The river runs and the river hides
Out to the ocean and under the sky
I promise you, the answer will come
Hold on to patience and watch for the sign
Everything in its time
Everything in its time

The Bittersweet

Many of you that follow this blog know that as we were anticipating our son Noah's arrival, my younger sister was expecting her first baby as well, a little boy named Elijah. After Noah was born and shortly there after went to be with His heavenly father, and the rest of his siblings, his precious cousin was still on his way. I would be lying if I said this was not hard for me, for us. We celebrated the anticipation of one life, knowing we had just lost another. There were days I fought very hard against my anger, not so much towards my sister, (it wasn't her fault), but at the injustice of it all. Why would God knit two little girls from the same womb, and bless one with the ability to bear and carry beautiful babies, and the other to bear so much grief and pain instead. Sometimes it feels like "Jacob have I loved, Esau have I hated." I don't believe this to be true, but it's difficult to battle the feeling none the less.
Well, the months went on, and last week the time came for my nephew to be born. I can honestly say I have never been more conflicted in my entire 31 years of life. As I watched my sister labor with her son, as I stood there and held her hand and stroked her hair, and later heard in the hall the happy sounds of her estatic husband, and healthy screaming son, a part of my heart was absolutely breaking. She was experiencing something I never had, and never will. I missed my little boy...I missed all my babies at that moment. But there was another part of me that was so happy. I was happy that my family had finally experienced some joy in the delivery room, that there was finally a baby that was going home. And I was happy because I was relieved. I was relieved my little sister didn't have to feel pain the way I've known. I have always been her protecter, (whether she wanted it or not), from the kids knocking down her castles in the sandbox, to the crazy boyfriends that needed straightening out. I did everything I could to keep her from harm or pain, (unless of course she was annoying me and she deserved it...but I digress). No one who's lost a child like we have wants to see anyone else lose one, especially not their beloved little sister. So even though it brought back sad memories for me, and was hard for me to see my sister have what I can't; I really wanted her to have it...more than anything. It was truly a bittersweet moment for me, and I wouldn't have missed it for the world.
I may still grieve my loss but I celebrate and welcome my gain as well; my sweet little nephew Elijah who I love very much already, (and will of course be his favorite Aunt because after all who's kidding who here)? And to my amazing sister Alissa, who if she's not already reading this blog will be as I'm sure mom will see it and make her; I'm so ridiculously proud of you and am honored to be your big sister. I know all this was hard for you too, and I just want to assure you, big sister is still here, and always will be. You're going to be a spectacular mother and I look forward to watching you in this next stage of life; I promise one way or another I'll join you too. :)
I love you sis, even in the bittersweet. In fact, especially so.

It’s About Not Giving Up

I was having a conversation last night with some old friends, (old as in we’ve been friends for a long time, not that they’re old in age). :) Anyhow, as we were discussing our lives and situations one of them asked, “What do you do when you’ve lost hope?” It was a quite timely question for me as it’s something I’d been processing plenty lately.
There seems to be no shortage of experiences in life that can cause a person to lose or struggle with hope. I can honestly say things have certainly felt pretty hopeless at times as we’ve lived through repeat losses and disappointment with trying to become parents. People would say (and still say to us) don’t give up hope, one day you will be parents. And while I appreciate the encouragement I echo my friend’s sentiment, how DO you not lose hope when things feel so, well hopeless?
For me right now, I am finding hope in the act of refusing to give up. When I refuse to let what’s happened to us dissuade me from pursuing becoming a parent, I am persevering. I may have an empty nursery, but if I gave up it would still be empty. If I refuse to quit trying to become a parent however, eventually there’s an excellent chance a child will end up in our home. There’s hope in that fact. I may feel sad and things may feel bleak sometimes right now, as they naturally would…I’ve just lost another child; but if I give up the sadness wins, it remains. If I persevere I’m giving my life, and my God the chance to change these tragic circumstances.
I think about Romans 5:3-4 (picking up just a pinch before 3), “And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. 3Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; 4perseverance, character; and character, hope.”
Now I’m not saying I’m rejoicing all that much in my sufferings. Frankly I think they suck and I’d rather not be experiencing such grief. But I don’t think this passage is insinuating I should to be celebrating that I’m suffering, as much as it seems to be suggesting that it makes a difference how I approach my suffering. If I refuse to let my sufferings squash me completely, if I allow myself to learn and grow through them; the transformation can in the end be potentially beneficial, and perhaps even something to be grateful for. Perseverance develops character, and character hope. So, in the midst of pain and frustration, if refusing to give up (especially when giving up seems easier) is perseverance, then through perseverance an opportunity to develop character; and then therein lies the answer to the question…HOPE.
It seems to me, not losing hope is about NOT giving up.

Finding Things to be Thankful For

Life just really doesn’t make sense sometimes. I’ve known this for a long time of course, but the evidence of this has never been more apparent to me than now. Not a day goes by that I’m not left shaking my head thinking how could this happen? How after everything, were we only destined to bury yet another child? At times it just seems ridiculous. If I think about it too much my mind is blown by the sheer absurdity of it all. I have to admit, a lot of times my conversations with God lately sound frighteningly similar to a SNL “Really!?!” segment.
How does one even begin to process an experience like this; years like this? It starts to feel like we’re doomed to always be the couple that’s hoping and then grieving; always with empty arms in the end. I think back to 3 ½ years ago when we first started planning and trying to have a family. We were so full of joy and anticipation. We had no idea what was ahead of us, what we would face in the years to follow. It’s probably better that we didn’t know. I doubt we would have tried at all, and then in all honesty there are certain things we would have missed out on.
During my sad depressing day yesterday I was talking to a friend of mine, and she pointed out to me that amidst my grief and sadness I was inadvertently finding things to be thankful for. She, like many of my friends, just feels ill right along with me in the aftermath of our most recent loss of Noah; but she suggested to me that when I find myself realizing something to be thankful for amidst all the heartache we’re experiencing, I should remember it, even right it down. It obviously won’t make me hurt any less, but it might put some of it in perspective.
I’ve thought about this for awhile and I think there’s some definite merit to the idea. I’m realizing, although I wish I could have gone about it another way, that throughout these experiences I have learned and grown in a lot of ways; and I do still have a lot to be thankful for. One example that comes immediately to mind is my husband. If I ever doubted for an instant that I did the right thing in marrying Brian, after what we’ve been through in the short amount of time we’ve been married, any shred of doubt has been obliterated from my mind. I have to be one of the luckiest women out there to have a husband who is so strong, supportive and loving; who has stood by my side through everything we’ve been through thus far, and who has demonstrated time and time again he always will. I’d like to think this would have been affirmed to me in any other life circumstance; but I must admit weathering these storms together has made me uniquely and abundantly thankful for Brian in a way that I think could only have come to fruition through what we have lived. So even though it’s been awful and painful, for this knowledge I can sincerely say I am thankful.
There have been several other examples I have thought of as well, but I won’t list them all here because believe it or not, it would make for a fairly long blog post. Instead I’ll just note that even though I still shake my head at the situation, and wish with all my heart that things could be different for us. I acknowledge that if they were in fact different, so we would be also; and in all honesty that might not be such a good thing. So, I suppose that’s yet one more thing to be thankful for.

Song of My Heart

Made it through a day today that I knew would be hard, but was pleasantly surprised. I felt peace and love today. People were praying for me, this I know and felt.
That said, as evening falls around me, my heart still feels what is was bound to feel today. The words of a Nicole Nordeman song continuously flow through my head. I share it because I think it captures the emotion far better than any words I could ever knit together to describe it.

Small Enough
oh, great god, be small enough to hear me now
there were times when i was crying
from the dark of daniel's den
and i have asked you once or twice
if you would part the sea again
but tonight i do not need a fiery pillar in the sky
just wanna know you're gonna hold me if i start to cry
oh, great god, be small enough to hear me now

oh, great god, be close enough to feel you now
there have been moments when i could not
face goliath on my own
and how could i forget we've marched around
our share of jerichos
but i will not be setting out a fleece for you tonight
just wanna know that everything will be alright
oh great god, be close enough to feel you now

all praise and all honor be
to the god of ancient mysteries
whose every sign and wonder turn the pages of our history
but tonight my heart is heavy
and i cannot keep from whispering this prayer
"are you there?"

and i know you could leave writing on the wall
thats just for me
or send wisdom while i'm sleeping,
like in soloman's sweet dreams
but i don't need the strength of samson
or a chariot in the end
just want to know that you still know how many hairs
are on my head
oh great god, be small enough to hear me now

When Life Returns to Normal

One of the really hard parts about grief and loss is when life returns to normal. Although normal might not be the right word; perhaps more when life returns to routine. I never do well with this part of the process. As my educator husband has assessed, I have trouble with transitions. So after time has passed, and life picks up again, at some point I’ve got to join the ranks again, (so to speak) whether I’m ready or feel like it or not. It’s a feeling I liken to playground jump rope. The rope is moving and others are jumping waiting for you to run in and jump along, but you’ve got to time it just right so you don’t get smacked in the face or trip and get tangled up. I’m not sure you’re ever quite ready, but eventually you’ve got to take a shot and get back in the game with everyone else.
So here I am, back in the game. I returned to work this week which is always hard for me. Not because I don’t like my job or the people I work with, quite the contrary. It’s just hard for me to return to my routine after my life has been rocked so thoroughly. I’ve learned now from experience that I have to give myself extra time before doing so, but I’ve also learned it’s still hard no matter how much time has passed. I think it’s because like it or not returning to routine means time is moving on and eventually I have to move along with it. Sometimes it’s hard to see time tick on, people going about their days, their lives and not think, “Don’t you know what has happened? How can you just keep going?” Time doesn’t stop for my tragedy… or anyone else’s for that matter. It feels like it should, but it doesn’t.
This means I can’t stop either. Sure I can take a reprieve for awhile, take a breather and gather my wits again; but eventually the time comes when I have to decide to live my life again, no matter what state I find it in. I’ve yet to find a way where escaping reality with any semblance of a permanent nature is feasible. Trust me, I’ve tried. Whether I like it or not, time does move on. Life continues, and so must I.

Family Portrait

Last night we filled out our preliminary paper work to begin pursuing adoption. As we considered our options after losing our precious Noah, we both felt pretty strongly that adoption would be the best way for us to have the family we so desperately desire. I'm hopeful and excited but pretty nervous too. It's an all too familiar and vulnerable place.
It's funny as I look at all my friends and their families; photos of smiles, laughter, full love...I wonder, will Brian and I ever have this? We've tried and invested so much and have been left empty handed and broken hearted over an over again. It's a wonder to me sometimes why we don't just throw up our hands and say forget it. But we don't. Neither one of us wants too.
I still believe we will someday have that family we have been praying and hoping for. Right now the photos in my head are fuzzy, and in the end, they will probably look a lot different than I originally imagined; but I still trust that someday we will have that family portrait. Then I too, will have that smiling, laughing, loving family.

Hurt

Sometimes it just plain hurts. You see a little girl with her family on the train and you just want to cry. You see a rocking chair awaiting a new baby that's coming and you feel like you've been punched in the gut. You drive home from somewhere in silence because neither one of you knows what to say, both just coping with the moment.
It can't be fixed because it's you that's broken; grief doesn't just go away. There's no way around it unfortunately. Sometimes its just going to hurt.

Something to Look Forward Too

I was not looking forward to today. I woke up and realized I was yet again going to sit under that little green tent at Loma Vista Memorial Lawn and bury another one of my babies. The dread, and anger and pain just pooled inside me. Part of me didn't even want to go, and the other half wanted to just get it over with so I wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. Neither option seemed a good one. As I sat looking at where my son was to lay to rest, and seeing his big brother's and sister's headstones nearby I could do nothing but weep. I felt so broken, so angry that another of my little ones was lost to me. It wasn't fair I told God. Then our faithful funeral director (who knows us quite well now) said something that struck me. He said what gets him through hard times like this is he often thinks about the adventures his daughter (who he also lost early) will tell him she's had when he finally gets to meet her one day, and that he imagines Brennan and Evie and Noah will have adventures of their own together that I too will get to hear about one day. It was a different but wonderfully comforting thought that had never occurred to me before. Of course I always figured that all my children would be together in heaven; but I found actual delight in thinking that they can all have adventures together (like they would here, only much better because it's heaven of course), and I can hear all about them someday when we're reunited. It gave me a vision of sitting on a front porch with Bean, Brennan, Evie and Noah animatedly and elaborately sharing with me all they had experienced together.
Now I don't know if there are really front porches in heaven or not, but I do know that all my children are, and someday we will all be together again. There is comfort and even joy in this knowledge, and I look forward with great anticipation to the day when they can all tell me everything they've been up to while I've been away. It doesn't make me miss them any less here, but it does give me solace and something to look forward to.

Being Held

Today started out as a hard day. The shock had worn off and reality was really starting to settle in that Noah was really gone; we really had lost again, and this meant regrouping and starting from scratch...again. No too mention I also started to think what some people who aren't believers must think of me? Why is this crazy woman still choosing to turn to and trust a God who has a allowed her to lose every child she's ever had? What kind of co-dependant fool does that? I'm not sure if that's really what they're thinking, maybe they just feel sorry for me, but I realized that even when I'm maddest at God, even when I think He's completely nuts or just really out to get me for some reason, He can take it, and He doesn't love me any less for it either. I have begged and pleaded with God every time I have lost another child, to not make me do this again, I can't take it anymore. I was ranting at him just a couple days ago "Enough, I've had enough!" You'd think when one of His children says that, he'd listen right? Well I think He probably did, but he responded to me a lot different than I meant at the time. I still lost my little Noah, and the pain that I feel from that is awful. All my hope for that dream was dashed and there is still an empty room in our house where a baby should be. But for some reason, here I am still standing (and sitting and typing). I had had enough, but when Noah was gone, I had the strength to get back up again because he knew I had had enough. He knew I was tapped out my own, but some how through His grace and love through so much prayer and support, I can say I survived. The pain that should break you, (and in a lot of ways does), doesn't have to overwhelm you.
God never promised that bad and tragic things wouldn't ever happen to you when you become a follower of Him; but he does say he'll empower you and love you through whatever it is that may befall. I can tell you tonight that this is true. It doesn't always make it easier, but it's bearable. What I thought I couldn't do, what really should crush me, hasn't so far; and I don't think it will. It's awfully painful, don't get me wrong;but it's like what one of my favorite songs right now says...
"This is what it means, to be held."
In this I can trust that despite my misgivings about what He may be doing in my life right now, I"m allowed to feel all of them, and still be guided and loved through it. I can have all the doubts and questions I want, I can shake my fist at Him and tell Him I don't understand. But at the end of the day when I've been carried through, when I've managed to laugh more than I've cried, I know He's still there loving me and giving me strength to face what I know I couldn't with will of my own. This is why I can still trust a God who allows me to lose and grieve again. Because when everything falls apart, I am still standing when I really have no business doing so. My only explanation is I must be, being held.

An Unexpected Turn in the Road

So as many of you already know, our little Noah was born at 29 weeks due to a severe heart condition. We were given little hope that he would even make it through his birth due to additional issues with Hydrops (swelling) which was they believe created because of the heart condition. The doctors gave us a pretty bleak picture but Noah came sure enough, and stayed with us through the day, and then he stayed another, and then he stayed another. We started to believe there might be a chance that he would pull through. A friend of ours started a Facebook group for him and in a couple of days Noah had more friends than his father and mother combined. Thousands of people praying and keeping up on the status of our little Noah. It was pretty incredible. I really believed God was going to heal my son, He wouldn't let all these people down right? Well, in spite of the literally 1,000's storming the gates of heaven with prayers and petitions for our son, I am sad to say we had to let him go back to be with his heavenly father, (and his brother and sister too). The doctors could do no more for him, and he was slipping away from us. It broke our hearts to have to give up the fight, but Noah was clearly telling us he was done fighting. So we chose to spend his last hours holding him, loving him, singing to him all the things we had so looked forward to when we learned of his existence in the first place. Even though it was far shorter than we had planned it was a blessing to have all the same. I held my son, he looked in my eyes and I kissed his head and face and know that he knew we loved him.
I know I will see him again, along with his siblings who went before him. It will probably be one big family reunion; but until that day there won't be one this side of heaven I don't think about my sweet Noah, and the amazing impact I know he had on many...especially his mom and dad. We love you sweet Noah.

What Joy Is This

The beginning of the 3rd trimester; I can’t believe we’re finally here. My title of this blog note illustrates my sentiment perfectly, “what joy is this?” It’s such a new feeling to be experiencing pregnancy at this point, with so much joy and anticipation. It doesn’t even seem to matter much anymore by which means Noah is coming, I’m just thrilled to death he is! My little boy, my son is really coming.
This is an overwhelming feeling to me. Registering for him, and setting up his nursery these past couple weeks has brought me great happiness and purpose, and along with it, a new sensation…I really feel like a mom! That feeling that seemed to be escaping me that I attributed to the fact that I wasn’t carrying Noah myself, was in reality always within reach. I just had to embrace it.
It certainly is a process though. I had to work through a lot of fear and frustration first. However, once I was able to really focus on Noah, and preparing for him, what joy I have found in being his mommy. Making up his room, reading books and signing up for magazines on how to parent him; all those things you do when you’re preparing for a little one’s arrival have all brought, and continue to bring me great joy. I smile just thinking about it.
So here we go dear friends, the home stretch. Thanks for journeying through the difficult weeks with me. Your support means a great deal. I trust and believe however, in the weeks ahead, my blog should be filled with far more eager anticipation…and joy. :)

Beautiful Mess

We’re at 26 weeks now and our little Noah is doing excellent. I am overjoyed that we are in a place of getting ready for him, as opposed to wondering if he’ll really get here. I stare at the furniture we just bought for the nursery with wonder, and smile that soon it will be occupied with my little boy. It’s hard to believe in 14 weeks or less we will finally be welcoming a child into our home. What a long awaited day.
I’ve been thinking a lot about this journey we’ve been on, and especially our current situation with surrogacy. For those that have been following this blog lately you know I’ve been really struggling with being at peace with my situation; finding space to feel some of my pain and frustration, and yet be thankful for all that I have and look forward to. How do I celebrate the process without dismissing my emotions that go along with it? Truthfully, I never anticipated how hard it would be to see someone else carry my child. I assumed I’d only feel joy and relief because it meant I could still bring a child into this world, albeit in a little different way. But as our surrogate entered into the phase of the pregnancy which I never reached, the painful reality crept in, “you can’t do this.” It started to nag me, overwhelm me; and I found myself grieving more for an experience, than I remembered why we had decided to take this path in the first place. I couldn’t see what was right in front of me…a beautiful mess.
There is an awful lot of pain in people lives right now other than my own. One in particular breaks my heart every time I think about it. And yet she finds joy in my life? She has celebrated with me every step of the way, and here I am unable to do so myself. Granted, my reason for grief is justified; but if my life is bringing someone else who is experiencing great pain, joy, shouldn’t I too be able to enter into that with her? Not to mention all the others who I know are praying daily and anxiously anticipating Noah’s arrival. It’s like what our pastor was talking about on Sunday, we’re a part of The Kingdom here, and it grows and blossoms best in our mess. It may be a bit heretical, but I realized my situation was like “compost” for the kingdom, and I should embrace it.
I know I’m still allowed to be sad, but I also know intermixed with my sadness is real joy. There is an abundance of love and grace surrounding a little boy who’s on his way. I may experience grief from time to time throughout this process, but that just makes me real. My “mess” gives me credibility, so my story can bring hope.

Three Wishes

Do you ever wonder what life would be like if you could wish some of less desirable parts away? In honor of St. Patrick’s Day I was wondering what I would wish for if I came across a leprechaun and he really could grant me 3 wishes. Silly to think about I know, but life’s too short to not entertain a little silliness now and again. So as I was pondering my silly thought of 3 magical wishes, my first two came to me quite quickly. First I’d wish that Bean, Brennan, and Evangeline were alive and home with us. Second I’d wish that I could be healed and have a normal pregnancy with all the experiences I never could; like the ability to walk around Disneyland, the mall and anywhere else I wanted to go like I see all these other pregnant women doing. Funny thing was, when it came to trying to think up my third wish, I couldn’t come up with one. I mean there’s plenty to wish for…wealth, power, success, happiness. But as I thought about it, I realized a lot of what one would wish for really depends on you anyhow. You could make accumulating wealth and success a priority if that’s what’s important to you, you can also make decisions and choices in your life that contribute to your happiness if that’s important to you. The two wishes I want are the ones I feel like I don’t have any choice or control over. It was profound revelation for me.

In general I’m a pretty content person it seems. Most of what’s important to me, I have; and what isn’t I’m not terribly concerned about. However, when reflecting on it, I realize the one area of my life which is my main source of discontentment is the part that has nothing to do with my priorities or choices. It’s the part I can’t change.

It occurs to me then, if I can learn to be content in spite of the parts of my life that cause me frustration, grief or pain, I would be a very happy and satisfied person. But how does one truly become content with their entire life…the good and the bad? I know how to be content with all the blessings I have, and even the small trials and self inflicted difficulties, but how do you find contentment amidst pain and hurt? I know I’m not a broken soul, that God has created me this way and He doesn’t make mistakes; but I still struggle with wanting an experience I can’t seem to have. I still remember the pain that comes with loss. I know I’ve said before that I’ve tried to accept the good that is coming out of this experience we’re having with surrogacy & Noah, that I’m happy to be used in way that embodies grace and redemption amidst tragedy. I acknowledge this is all true and wonderful, but It doesn’t change the fact that I still watch a pregnant woman walking down the street and I think to myself “that will never be me.” So even as I come to a place of acceptance, how to I reach the next plateau of contentment? I don’t really know...but I think if I got there I’d be at peace.

The Two Sides of Me

I’ve been feeling a bit split in my personality these days. One part if me is really happy and excited that the pregnancy is progressing so well. Noah is growing steadily, and at 24 weeks now we even have our official court order that declares him completely ours. I’m thrilled he’s healthy and strong and well on his way, but another part of me keeps getting this ache in my heart for an experience in which I can only be spectator in.
I feel torn. I’m grateful for everything I’ve been given and all I have to look forward to; but I feel pain for what I am reminded I can’t have. I wish it wasn’t so, I wish it didn’t matter so much to me; but as I watch another woman swell with my growing son, there is a sadness mingled with my joy. Often times the joy wins over my soul, but occasionally the bittersweet reality settles in; usually when I least expect it and when I’m least prepared. Watching Brian’s smile spread wide across his face as he feels Noah for the first time, the first time he has ever been able to feel any of our children. The pure happiness he felt at that moment I couldn’t give him, but oh how I wished I could.
I know I’m still Noah’s mommy. I certainly did my part. Sometimes it’s just hard to feel like it, sometimes I just feel like the extra woman in the doctor’s office.

Brennan

Brennan, my sweet boy. Two years ago today you slipped into our lives and out again to be with your heavenly father. Even though our time with you was far too brief, we love you as much now as we did the day we learned of your existence.

Until we meet again little one...

Happy Birthday.

Love

Wednesdays have become our sacred nights as a couple. We wanted to be sure amidst everything we’re committed to, we had one night a week that was just for each other and being together. I look forward to this night each week.
Tonight is no exception. We’re going to hit Stubricks for their 8 dollar steak special (occurs every Wednesday for the next 3 months…check it out folks), and then off to Babies R Us. Yes, that’s right; we are beginning to shop for Noah.
Although it was not without some trepidation, I happily bought my first thing for Noah this weekend; a cute little Halloween onezie with a pumpkin on the butt that was on clearance for $4. This may not seem like a huge step to some of you…but it was a big deal for me. After having a closet (and garage) full of unused baby items from our previous pregnancies I wanted nothing to do with baby stuff this time around until I was ready. The thought of storing more clothes, rattles, stuffed animals etc, that go unused was more than I could deal with. So we told our friends and family not to give us any and we didn’t buy a single thing ourselves either. As we passed the halfway mark though, fear and worry like I’ve mentioned in some of my previous posts must give way to necessity. If we don’t start preparing for Noah soon, we could very well get rushed and not be as thorough as we were in the past and have every intention of being again. Looking at Consumer Reports, pricing things out, deciding what we need versus what we want; this takes time, energy and planning. We did this joyfully with our first and second pregnancies, as well as our 3rd, albeit mostly from my perch on the couch. Noah deserves this excited planning and loving attention to detail the same as our other babies did. I want him to know that we prayed for him every day, eagerly anticipated his arrival, and carefully planned for his life with us. His come to being is so special and unique; I want him to know that, to feel that.
That’s why I can’t let my worry and fear keep me from giving to him what I so feely gave to my children before him; a love story. Just like his older siblings, he is already incredibly loved. Sadly that’s why it makes it this whole process so scary sometimes. Loving him means pain if we lose him. It’s a vulnerability that has cost me before, but it’s a chance I’m willing to take again. Noah deserves this of me, and I owe it to myself as well. It’s hard and frightening sometimes; but an open heart is far more useful to us all than a guarded one.

What to do with Worry

With each passing week now I am finding I get more and more excited but more and more nervous at the same time. Its puzzling to me that the closer we get to Noah being born, and we start taking active steps to prepare for his arrival I find my anxious heart kicks in and starts to fret. Am I getting too attached because something can still go wrong? Something always seems to go wrong…right? Brian tries to reassure me and say I feel this way because our only experience is that something inevitably does go wrong, but this time I needn’t fret so much. I know this is true, but sometimes I have a hard time convincing myself of this. Since we are farther along than we have ever been before, I have begun to feel more excited about the prospect of motherhood. I’ve started flipping through the parenting books, narrowing down possibilities for nursery themes, and even letting myself imagine what it will be like to have Noah in our home, as part of our family. The dilemma is it seems whenever I start in with one of these activities that unsettling feeling bubbles up inside me. I tell myself I need to stop worrying so much, but I can’t ignore that nagging feeling that tugs at me. I suppose in some ways I’m just like every other pregnant woman in that respect. Although while other woman are probably worrying more about, will I be a good mom, how do I care for this new child, the huge responsibility, the expense…I’m just worrying about if he’ll make it out alive. Morbid I know, but sadly it’s been my unfortunate reality thus far. I want to be able to enjoy this journey, I don’t want to ruin this incredible experience for myself, (or us) with my constant fretting. I cherish the happy moments we’ve had thus far, and continue to have as we get ready for Noah’s arrival. I just wish I had more peace in the process. I suppose it’s like my mother always says though “A mother never stops worrying about her kids, no matter how old they are.”
Maybe I’m just starting a little early.

What a Difference a Week Makes

As many of you know last week was incredibly hard for Brian and me. Well mostly me, but residually Brian too. Losing both our son and daughter at the 20 weeks has pretty much turned that week in pregnancy into a point of trauma for us. Therefore I cannot even begin to express the sheer joy I feel in FINALLY surpassing that week. Noah is doing wonderfully and growing steadily at 21 weeks now and we couldn’t be happier. Although we know there still may be hurdles to overcome, the one that has eluded us for years is no more.
This affirms to me in a very tangible way…things really are different this time. I am NOT destined to always be the woman who’s pregnant but never has a child to care for in the end. With each passing week now I know I’m one step closer to meeting my little boy. I can’t wait to hear him cry, or have him wiggle in my arms; all those things I never could experience with my children before.
It has been hard for me to let go at times, but I know we are giving Noah the best chance possible by going about things…differently.
It really has made all the difference.

Oh the Angst of it All

Oh how I loathe this point in pregnancy. Here we are at the half way mark and I am terrified. I should be excited; we're half way to meeting our little Noah. Instead I can't get past this ache in my chest, this nervousness that seems to well up without warning. It may seem irrational, (although my counselor says it's completely understandable), but at 20 weeks now, it’s like someone drew a curtain on my life and the future just seems to loom in the distance like a big black hole. I know things are different. The doctor says things look great. I know there's no real reason to fear; and yet here I am…struggling to get past this wretched week that has tormented and abruptly ended my last two pregnancies. I knew this week would come again. I’ve dreaded it since we hit the 2nd trimester…and now here we are.
Strange how memories can bring such joy at times but also such heartbreak. I know once we get to week 21 I’ll feel a great sense of relief and mostly deeper healing from the past too. To get there though I have to make it through the 20th week, and that’s the hard part. I can’t forget the pain I felt when the doctors told me Brennan was going to have to come 20 weeks to soon, and the complete anguish when less than a year later, despite our best efforts, his little sister Evie would too. When those memories come back to me it’s hard to see anything else in that moment. Greif sometimes feels like it’s swallowing you whole.
And yet it doesn’t.
There is a line in one of my all time favorite movies that says “Regrets are a waste of time. They are the past, crippling you in the present.” Although it’s not regret I feel, I fear my focus on what has happened in the past during this week of pregnancy is crippling me of believing and trusting that this time it really will be okay. When you’ve known nothing else, it’s difficult to fathom what it’s like on the other side.
So what’s my solution then to this conundrum? Well, other than willingly putting myself into a coma for a week, I’m afraid I’m just going to have to wait this one out. That and apologize to everyone in advance for the potential, (and let’s face it, probably inevitable) emotional basket case that I will be for the next week.
The good news is, once we do hit 21 weeks, I trust the elation I will feel in finally reaching what has always eluded us will thwart the past from crippling me any longer.

Batten Down the Hatches

Well we're at 19 weeks and counting. My anxiety is rising more than I'd like. We lost both Brennan and Evie at 20 weeks and so although I know things are different this time, the fear is present and real the nearer we get. I am really trusting God is going to carry us through this time and our baby Noah is going to be home with is soon enough; but sometimes its hard to keep the past from haunting my present. Part of me wants to run away this next Wednesday and not come back till the following one. The thought of loss again overwhelms me, and then again each time we suffered a loss I said I'll never make it through this one...and yet I did. So I'm not going to run away. I'm going to face these next couple of weeks head on because I know He never gives us more than we can handle; and I have learned with His help, I can handle way more than I ever thought possible.
I could use your prayers though friends. Being brave helps you face the battle, but being well equipped helps you win the war.

A Different Kind of Special

I am continuously reminded of how much people are invested in our journey. Just today a woman at work was asking me how things were going, how she was so excited for us, and was praying for us. Earlier in the week I discovered a woman's bible study has been praying for us this whole time, the only connection I have with them being a mutual friend. I have received countless "checking in" emails and phone calls, as have our family as well. It frequently astounds me when I think of the sheer number of people who are aware of and are following our story. People I've never even met are praying for us on a daily basis. Frankly I wonder if our little Noah isn't one of the most anxiously anticipated births of 2010.
I suppose that's why whenever I think of this path Brian and I are walking, so different than most, I start to realize that God had/has something more for us. I have been known to say "I always wanted to be special and unique in some way, but this was not what I had in mind." It is however what God had in mind. I don't believe I was made this way by accident. I have struggled with feeling broken, or forgotten by God because he made such an important and privileged part of being a woman just not work in me. And yet, I know I'm not broken and I'm not forgotten; quite the contrary in fact.
God knew what he was doing when he made me this way. He knew I would eventually find a way to let go of the hurt and anger and let Him use me. Well us really, (Brian's on this journey too). God knew the lives our experience would touch. He also knows what lies ahead, and it appears He has every one's attention.
It has taken me a long time to say this sincerely, but I'm actually glad to be this kind of special. It's not easy, but it's His kind of special and that's more than enough for me.

Our little man

Yes friends, that's right. This week Brian and I found out we're having a boy! Little Noah Timothy White. I wish I could describe for you absolute joy on Brian's face when we heard the news, but there are no words that do it justice. Naturally we are thrilled beyond measure and have been told that he's a very healthy little boy so far.

It's hard to believe that here we are at 17 weeks already, and now know we are expecting a boy. The 1st trimester felt like it just dragged on and on, but now as we've entered the 2nd it feels like time is moving so much quicker now.

As we went to visit our friends tonight who just had a beautiful girl a little over a week ago, I stared into her tiny sleepy face and felt that bittersweet pang I often experience when I hold a newborn baby. And then I remembered, soon the little baby in my arms would be mine. Soon enough the little face that looks back at me is going to be a reflection of Brian and I; a product of so much prayer and love. Sometimes it's hard to believe it's really going happen after so much pain and disappointment, but as we were reminded in church today; faith is 100% commitment even if you don't have 100% certainty. Life may still be uncertain for us, but I have faith we will make it though. In a little while it will be our son Noah smiling, (or more likely crying) back at us, and I will be eternally grateful.

16 weeks and all is well

Well so far so good friends, our little Squishy is growing steadily. We received a text from our surrogate last night reporting she felt a kick for the first time. Naturally we were thrilled! :) I must admit it felt a little weird to be told my baby was kicking but I wasn't experiencing it myself; however I felt a surge of excitement at the same time to be reminded my little baby was thriving.

I think I'm starting to get used to experiencing my baby's progress through another woman. It's been really hard at times and I imagine it still will be; but I find as we progress it's mattering to me less that I had to give up carrying our baby, and mattering far more that we have one that's thriving and safe. In fact, I actually I find myself feeling braver in thinking about what it would be like to actually have a baby at the end of this journey. Before, when we first started this whole process, I would barely let myself emotionally invest in the next week let alone the end of 9 months. Now most of the time when I think about our baby, I find myself smiling instead of biting my lip and worrying about what could go wrong.

We still have a long way to go. 20 weeks is still a month away and we've been there before... However, as my little baby keeps growing and stirring, so does my hope and mother's heart. So kick on little one, kick on! Mom is waiting for you on the other side. :)

Brian and I just finished watching Julie & Julia this evening. Really a delightful movie which I loved and am now going to have to purchase so I can watch it over and over again.

I have to say however, not only was the movie just fun to watch, but it was really inspiring, and touching as well. I must admit before this I didn't know that much about Julia Child except for the fact that she was an amazing cook who had her own program, and our choir teacher used to tell us to open our mouths more on our vowels "like Juuuuuuliaaaa Chiiiiiild." So, as I watched this movie I was quite intrigued by her. Naturally, I was drawn to the parts in the movie when it eluded to the fact that she didn't, and probably couldn't have children. As I watched the scene where she opens the letter to discover her sister is pregnant and she struggles to keep her composure and be happy for her, my heart was right there with her. I think I even said aloud, I know how you feel. I understand what it feels like to see a pregnant woman, or a mother and child and feel that twinge that you try to shake off and keep going. I think any woman who's ever been in similar circumstances does.

What I found inspiring about this movie and the portrayal of Julia though, was the fact that she just kept moving forward. Especially in the face of great pain. She had her cry, but she didn't let it beat her. It was moving to watch her show such strength as she continued to be positive. "I'm so happy for her," she says through her tears. To which her clearly devoted husband kisses her forehead and says "I know you are." You'd have to see it to understand how touching it is. If you have lived it, understandably it's even more poignant.

Often it feels like I'm in an uphill battle with how I reconcile everything that has happened and unfolded in the past couple of years. Yet as I watched this movie I thought, here is a woman who did not have the opportunities and options that I have, and she was still smiling, sometimes through tears perhaps, but smiling none the less. I'm not sure if that was one of the key points this movie was trying to make, but it certainly struck me.

Sometimes I forget how lucky I am. I have an amazing and supportive community of family and friends; one so much so, she's carrying our baby for us. I have a loving and devoted husband who has not only stood by me through everything, but has comforted, encouraged, and held me together on the days when I just fell apart. And I have a heavenly Father, who despite how it may feel sometimes, loves me and has not forgotten me.

Remembering all this makes me smile again and gives me strength. Apparently I am in good company too. Julia Child, who knew? It just goes to show you, you never know who's standing alongside you. So thank you Julia Child, for reminding me that life's unexpected trails don't have to beat us; they in fact can be blessings too.