Being a Part of Something Greater than Yourself

I'm constantly reminded these days how blessed I am. It may seem a bit strange to say so since there have been many a trails in our life of recent date that made us feel anything but blessed; but the reality of the situation is that we truly are. We are blessed with loving families, friends, a steady income and a roof over our heads; but more than that, we get to be a part of something so much bigger than ourselves. It is both wonderful and humbling to know an update on Facebook, a another good report from the doctor, or even just the sight of my growing belly can bring people such joy, hope, and sometimes even tears. I know it doesn't have anything to do with me personally, its what God is doing through me, but what an honor it is to be a vessel of God's love, grace and redemption. I am so grateful and feel so blessed indeed to be a part of something so much bigger than myself. It came at a cost yes, but when people see my little girl I pray they will be reminded of the great God who made her life possible. What a lovely way to be able to participate in God's kingdom.

When Every Day's a Gift

As Thanksgiving is tomorrow it's pretty easy to focus on what we're thankful for this year. After all, here we are at 24 weeks and Emmaline is healthy and strong and my cervix is still nice and long. :) I really don't think there's much else in this world Brian and I could want right now, except maybe a guarantee that the other boot we keep waiting to fall isn't going to. But if there's one thing we know, its that life isn't about guarantees and if that's all we lived life for we wouldn't really be living. There's something so precious for us in the way every morning I wake up pregnant and every night I go to sleep still pregnant is an answer to prayer. It's an opportunity to be eternally grateful every day for where we're at in our lives. Every little kick, and jab, bump and flutter makes me smile. I really don't think I'll ever tire of them since it's a constant reminder to me I have been given something special. I've been blessed with a miracle.
There's a unique perspective you adopt in life when every day's a gift. You still have good days and bad days but you take so much less for granted, and the smallest pleasures can bring such great joy. Like the tears that came to both our eyes when Brian felt Emmaline move inside me for the first time. The gratefulness that fills my heart every time I hear my little girl's. I have been given a gift even greater than this precious life inside me, hard to believe as that may seem. I get the rare priveledge to truly relish and cherish God's creation in a unique way that not everybody does. It's really true that with the understanding of great heartache can you also truly understand and experience great joy. When every day's a gift, life takes on a whole new meaning, and there's so much to be thankful for.

The Dreaded Week

Here we are now at 20 weeks. The dreaded week my body has never let me get past in pregnancy. I enter it today with trepidation but an effort to believe this time will be different. So far all is well. Our little girl is healthy and thriving and my body is doing all it should. But the past is not my friend this week and I struggle to shake off the memories. The fear creeps in despite my efforts and others as well to thwart it. This week is what it is to me, the dreaded week, and all I can really do is wait, and hope and pray. Each day. Perhaps even each hour. Lord take away my fear, give me peace and guide us safely through this week.
I think of my little girl growing inside of me and I can't help loving her and cherishing her already. What a blessing of hope and joy she has already been to us, our families, and our friends. I know her life is worth the risk, and I pray with everything in me that she continues to be to week 21 right on through to her delivery...and for years to come.

Risky Business

It's been a while since I've posted something. The pregnancy post procedure sort of seemed to fly by, but the closer we get to our dreaded 20 weeks it feels like we've slowed down to a steady crawl now. As of yesterday I reached 18 weeks and people keep asking me, "How do you feel?" I usually tell them physically I feel great, emotionally though I'm all over the place. Many days I'm fine; distracted and content to pray each day for my little one and wonder if this time we really are going to take a baby home from the hospital. Other days I feel a heavy burden of fear and angst that covers me like a dark cloud, and still other days are filled with worry and every sort of "what if" my mind can think of. I imagine a lot of these feeling are probably normal for any pregnant woman, but I have to assume they take on a different manifestation in my case and it's an effort sometimes to keep it from debilitating me.
Obviously I can't just say "never mind, we don't want to risk this anymore." What's done is done and I can't exactly un-pregnante myself, (well I guess theoretically I could but I wouldn't). So instead I have to face the fact we agreed in the beginning this was a risk worth taking. Brian's reminds me often that with big risks there is frequently big reward. In our case, being able see this pregnancy to term, deliver our baby alive and healthy, and then bringing it home would not only be a big reward, it would be monumental. For some reason though, in those darker worried filled days, this fact doesn't always make me feel better. Truth be told I haven't found a lot that does yet. It's not that I'm ungrateful for this opportunity; quite the opposite really. I thank God every day I wake up still pregnant and every night I ask him to give me another, but gratefulness doesn't change the reality of my situation. Being pregnant is a huge, scary risk for me, and that's just the way its going to be. I can't live in denial and pretend it isn't because I've lived this story before and I know it doesn't always have a happy ending. Instead all I can really do is live this pregnancy one day, one week at a time; (so cliche I know but frustratingly true in this case). Or you can think of it in terms of that old biblical stand by, that God gives us just enough light to see the step in front of us; which growing up I always found equally frustrating. Why not let us see more of the path in front of us, why not find a way to reassure us that if we just keep going it really will be fine in the end. Maybe because that doesn't require as much faith on our part, or perhaps we wouldn't seek and depend on God as much if we knew all would be well? Honestly I don't really know or totally understand.
What I do know is that God has His hands in this pregnancy, but what that may mean in the end I don't know. I can hope and pray that this baby stays safe inside me, and that eventually this little one will come home with us and make us a family. I can trust in the skill of the great doctors who are caring for me and our baby. I can also try to have faith that this really is the miracle I have been praying for since we were told I probably shouldn't get pregnant anymore.
Truth is there isn't going to be any guarantee for me that everything is going to turn out alright with this pregnancy. However, that's the case for anyone. In fact it's true in any circumstance really. Life's full of risks, big ones and little ones; if we're unwilling to take them are we really living at all? I think you have to be willing to take the risk, calculated or otherwise, if you want to reap the rewards. Sometime this means though that all you can do is keep taking the next step that's in front of you and hope and pray for the best. Which, is pretty much where that leaves me.

A Miracle in the Making

As many of you know, when I started this blog (and long before that) our attempts to start a family have been a long and trying journey. It has not been without joy, but to say that it has been wrought with setbacks and disappointment is also an understatement.

Now I am happily able to share a recent flowering of hope in our path to becoming parents. I am expecting. I'll just give you a couple seconds to process that... (Goodness knows we needed more than a couple).

Okay, on with the story...(because of course if I'M pregnant you know there must be a story attached to it).

A little over a year ago my sister had her first child. It was a bittersweet time for our family, as we had both been anticipating babies together. While our little Noah was born premature and went to be with his heavenly father 9 days later, my sister's Elijah was full-term and a lively little thing from the start. It was at this time that my sister's father-in law, (who is an obstetrician) approached my mother about me. He told her that he and his wife had been praying for us and he wanted me to know that he thought I COULD have a baby. He went on to explain his medical opinion of what probably went wrong when we lost our daughter. You may remember that I had had a cerclage and had been assured by my OB/GYN that it would "fix" the problem which occurred with our son, Brennan. Later when my mom shared with me what he had said, she explained that what struck her more, and what gave her more hope than his professional opinion, was that he said he had been praying for us -- for me. My mom felt as though God was speaking through him, telling her I could carry a child. Of course we were starting the process of adoption and weren't even thinking about trying to get pregnant, but I did think if it were true wouldn't that be a lovely thought. Perhaps all the prayers I'd been praying for healing, for a possible chance to try again might be answered one day. And so, a small seed of hope was planted.

Shortly after we became a certified family and began waiting for an adoption placement. I was eager and hopeful we'd get a placement early on, but as the weeks turned into months my hope began to fray. It was around this time we received another piece of interesting information. My aunt up in San Francisco (who knew nothing of the conversation that went on earlier that summer) had casually brought me and my situation up to her doctor. He proceeded to tell her that one of his partners, Dr. Katz, worked specifically with patients like me and was an expert in this specific form of medicine. Knowing that we were in the process of adoption, but also knowing this information might still be valuable to me and our family, she sent the information on to my mother.

My mom, after doing some research with this information, eagerly got in contact with me and we took a look for ourselves. We were impressed with what we learned. This doctor was having tremendous success with a couple different forms of special cerclages for women with previously failed stitches, most of which with situations far more serious than my own. We thought perhaps it was too good to be true, but with the little seed of hope we had received earlier that summer we decided to make an appointment with Dr. Linzey, the doctor who delivered Noah and a well-regarded local perinatologist, to get a second opinion on our situation (as well as his opinion of Dr. Katz).

When we were able to consult with Linzey a couple months later he confirmed what we had been presented with. He knew Dr. Katz, had worked with him before and knowing our story thought it was a great possibility. In fact, as he examined me, he determined I was actually in quite excellent shape. He told us that, had he not known our history, he wouldn't have thought I'd had had any problems at all! Naturally I needed some time to process all of this. Here now were two doctors telling me quite the opposite of what I heard 3 years ago.

The idea of getting pregnant again was still an incredibly scary prospect for me, but we decided to at least make an appointment and meet with Dr. Katz in San Francisco to see what he had to say. We were completely blown away by his response. Not only was he eager to help me, but he was incredibly optimistic about our chances. As Brian grilled him about his experience, success rates, the complexity of the procedure and my life post-op; it became clearer and clearer to both of us this was not only a legitimate option, this was an answer to my prayer. We decided to take a step of faith and give it a try. We knew it was still a risk, but then again, faith often requires risk.

At the end of May we began trying to get pregnant. All the while I prayed for God to let whatever his desire was to happen first. Whether a placement or a pregnancy, I just wanted a child. He answered; I was pregnant by the end of June.

So now here we are 12 weeks in today and in a week we'll be flying to San Francisco for my procedure. It feels very surreal much of the time, and the other part of the time it feels both exciting and terrifying mingled together. We truly believe God has orchestrated this process and we feel His presence as we proceed. It is not without trepidation that we face the months ahead, but we have faith and trust that God is good and most certainly faithful...and in the end that's really all we need to know.

Mercies in Disguise

If there's one thing I've learned in life so far it's that blessings can surprise you...they can manifest in ways you never expect, and sometimes never wanted, but there they are all the same.
My dad sent me a link to the most beautiful song today called "Blessings" by Laura Story, (I recommend checking it out) as it truly touched my heart. It reminded me that the struggles and pain we've lived through, and the trials we've yet to face, may in fact be mercies in disguise.
"What if your blessings come through raindrops, what if your healing comes with tears? What if a 1000 sleepless nights are what it takes to know You're near. What if my greatest disappoints, or the aching of this life, is a revealing of a greater thirst this world can't satisfy. And what if trials of this life, the rains and storms, the hardest nights, are Your mercies in disguise."

You Just Never Know

The things that change us. It's never the things we think will, it doesn't seem to be the things we plan on. I'm finding true growth, true transformative experiences usually take you by surprise. Its not even an immediate realization that startles, its more like months or years gone by and in reflecting back you become more aware of where you been and how far you've come; and the things that got you there never seem to be the things you'd think should have. Often it's not even things you wanted to happen. How odd that it seems we grow far more in life from experiencing pain or trails than we do through our peaceful happy times, or structured times to grow, (say like studying). Not that those times aren't valuable too, they certainly are, but there is just something unique for lack of a better word, an unplanned "bump in the road." It seems to be the time when true charecter emerges and the shift in paradigm forces you to evaluate your feelings, your thoughts, your response.
I know I have mentioned it before, but I really do think (on my good days mind you) that even though these years of trail and loss were painful, they have made me a better person. Mind you I don't think I was a bad person to start out, but I feel like I have changed, I've grown in ways I never would have had we not lived through what we have. For someone who has been going to Sunday school and bible studies, for as long as I can remember, not too mention having 2 college degrees, it's confounding to me that the most growth I think I've ever experienced has been in these past several years. The crazier part is I didn't even know what was happening really until I reflected on it later. In the moment most times I was just thinking how do I move on from here, what do I do now, and what does this mean for me, for us.
I guess I'm realizing you just never know what God's going to do, but if you leave room for Him to do so, He often can surprise you; and in turn you may find you surprise yourself. I know that's certainly the case with me. God knew I could handle way more than I ever thought I could, and I'm willing to remain open to whatever may happen next too. Don't get me wrong, I am hoping and praying its all good stuff for awhile, but even the bad can be for the good in the end. You just never know, but surprisingly I think it's better that way.

Happy Birthday Noah

Tomorrow is Noah's birthday. One year ago our little boy was born by emergency c-section. It's hard to believe sometimes it's already been a year. So much life slips on...so much changes in a year. And then again some things don't change. Like how much we still love our son. Not a day goes by that I don't miss him, think about him, all of them really. My children. I hate to say it because I feel guilty thinking so, but often I feel like I'm just as excited to be with my children again when I get to heaven as I am to be with my heavenly Father. Considering the circumstances though I think He understands.
It's surprising to me though, how grief after time, can change. I won't be grieving Noah tomorrow, just missing him. My sweet little boy who had his Daddy's ears and my nose. My son; who for the short time he spent here on earth touched and moved the lives of literally thousands. Thinking back on it now it still blows me away. Even after he was gone, his memory lingered, teaching people what it meant to pray, what hope and strength really looks like, and how God can show up and reveal Himself even if He doesn't answer your prayers the way you want him to. I wish I could take some of the credit for what my son managed to accomplish in his brief but amazing life, but I really had nothing to do with it. God knew what Noah would do, what he would mean to so many before he was even conceived. We just had to be willing participants.
So I'll miss my son tomorrow, just like I miss him every day, but I won't be grieving his loss. I'll be celebrating his life instead. Short though it may have been, his life changed mine forever, and I imagine several others too.
Shortly after Noah's passing, we received a card from a friend of ours, "What a beautiful difference one single life made." I saved it because it meant so much to me then, and it helps me remember now. I'm so glad Noah was ours, even if only for a short while, because his life did make a difference. To me it made all the difference in the world.

Prayer

I've been praying a lot lately. Frankly there's been much to pray for with sick friends, and families in tough situations, but I also continue to hound the gates of heaven with my asking for a child. Not a day goes by that I don't ask God for a child of my own, and I wonder how long will I have to wait? I pray all the time about it, and ask others to pray as well, but still I am here, with no baby in hand.
I have to admit prayer's been an interesting topic for me lately. Through all our trials and losses I have prayed...sometimes struggled to do so, but I have prayed. Sometimes it felt like it wasn't doing any good at all. Like I was firing off frustrations, asking in anguish and begging for strength in vain. Looking back now though, I realize my prayers were not in vain. I am here, I am sane, and I would actually say I'm stronger than I was 4 years ago. I have learned so much about myself; what it means to really have faith and trust, and I continue to learn things like what humility really looks like, and where hope comes from when all seems lost.
I realize I'm learning these things because I have opened myself up to do so through prayer. Not necessarily intentionally, mind you, I was mostly in survival mode. However as I have been reading a book by Jerry Sittser "When God Doesn't Answer Your Prayers," (a great read by the way), I am gaining a greater understanding about the nature of prayer.
In the chapter I'm reading right now Sittser discusses how prayer changes us. He points out "One of God's greatest answers to prayer isn't what He does for us, but what He does in us." So although God may not be answering my prayers exactly the way I am asking Him to, He is answering them none the less. Don't get me wrong, I still believe He wants us to ask Him for the things we want and need; I'm still asking for a baby every day, but I also am realizing that even if He doesn't answer my prayers exactly the way I ask, it doesn't mean I'm praying in vain. Prayer changes me, so I can then change things...for Him.
So even if I don't see the results of my prayer the way I want, I still ask, I still pray; because in the end it's not always what I'm asking for but who I am becoming that God answers.

Shared Joy is Ours

I learned this fact in a whole new way this week. One of the couples we have met through our adoption agency and have become friends with had a sweet baby girl placed in their family this weekend. It was strange for me; for the first time in a long while my joy for this family wasn’t coupled with jealousy or any bittersweet sentiment. It was really just joy. It’s a strange feeling really. Not having joy in it of itself; surprisingly I’m still a pretty joyful person, but this kind of shared joy I’m experiencing…I haven’t felt this way for awhile. Of course I’ve been happy for people as they’ve welcomed their own little wonders, but naturally it was not without the sting of my own reality.
So here I am in the same situation, but now for some reason I really am just happy. The sting’s not there. Perhaps it because I know this family has struggled, lost in similar ways and as I mentioned before know “this pain.” I’ve known couples that struggled with infertility for years and then were able to conceive and those were certainly joyful celebrations as well; but this is different. I think I am just so happy to see this sweet couple finally have their hearts desire, a child in their home to love and raise as their own. After all, isn’t that what all waiting families want? Just to be a family.
It’s hard to be in this place of waiting, but I’m watching first hand and I see that there is in fact a light at the end of this tunnel, a child at the end of this wait. It can, and will happen. I think that’s what helps me have true shared joy. We shared in our pain, shared in our struggles, in the wait, and now we can share in the joy. And I am sure, when it is our turn, when that new happy family is us, the shared joy will be reciprocal.

An Adopters Labor Story

We attended our 2nd Adoption Connections meeting, (a sort of support group for waiting families) this week. I find it so encouraging to be around others wrestling with similar frustrations, and feelings, it gives validity to my own I guess. I also enjoy the variety of families at different stages in the process; some have been placed and are waiting for the child to be born, some have had a false start and are still waiting, and some are like us, who are still in the beginning stages of their wait process. The group facilitator referred to the wait process as sort of a roller coaster ride, which I think is very accurate. Yet as I was listening to one of the other women share who has an adopted child that sometimes she doesn't know what to say when a girlfriend (who may not know her child is adopted yet) asks about her pregnancy and/or labor story. It was interesting to me because although it was more of a conversation of how to tell people graciously your child is adopted, I was struck by the thought that "this" is your pregnancy and labor story. Not only that but any and all those years of struggling with infertility or loss...that is pain, that is agony...that is labor, and a long one too.
Granted, I have been through labor myself; twice in fact, and it was painful, with even more painful results. But I started to think about it, about our whole journey as part of a longer process. As my very LONG labor, which will eventually garner the same results as others one day. If you think about it, you go through many of the same emotions; waiting, pain, pushing on when you're weary, anticipation perhaps coupled with a little fear in wondering if you can really do this, heck you even consider whether or not you should take "the drugs" or not.
So, I've decided that after we get a placement, and someone asks me how long I labored with my little one, I'm going to be very up front and without hesitation say "Oh, years!"
Because after all, it's the truth.