My Body is Beautiful...

Summer has always been my favorite season of the year.  I love the warm nights and the beautiful lightening storms.  I enjoy any excuse to wear flip-flops and absolutely LOVE all of the yummy food at cookouts with friends and family.  There honestly isn’t much I don’t love about summer, but there is one minor daunting detail that I have always dreaded…putting on a bathing suit.

Even as a teenager, I was never comfortable in my own skin.  I laugh now, because looking back, I had absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.  I was in great shape back then.  Ah, if I only knew then what I know now.

 I’m nearly 10 years past my teens now, and in those 10 years, my body has been through a lot of changes.  The biggest change of all being that it carried my daughter 38 wonderful weeks and allowed me to experience the most humbling and awesome thing that any human being ever could be a part of.  I was the vessel by which God created another human being.  Pretty amazing, huh?  But even being a part of that miracle didn’t make me appreciate my body the way I should. 

The summer after I had Sydney, I was so self-conscious.  My pregnancy had left my skin riddled with stretch marks and my stomach was no longer tight, flat and firm as it had been my whole adult life.  I now had this “mommy pouch” that just wouldn’t go away.  It absolutely disgusted me.  Why couldn’t my body go back to the way it was before like my other friends?  Why did I have to have all of these imperfections…all of these “battle scars”?  I resented my “mommy body”, but I told myself, “She’s worth it” and tried my best not to complain.

I always knew my daughter was a precious gift.  I always knew that being able to have a child was a blessing in itself.  I believed those things.  But until I experienced my own fertility issues, I never fully grasped how huge that gift was.  That is because, before my own losses, I couldn’t even begin to comprehend the overwhelming frustration and heartache that came with losing a pregnancy.  There are feelings of failure, of self-hate, of “Why couldn’t my body make this work?”…all feelings that I had to work through, not once, but three times. 

I told myself after my miscarriage this year that I was going to get back in shape; that I was going to be ready for bathing suit season.  That was four months ago.  I met my first goal and finally (after 2 ½ years) got back down to my “pre-Sydney” weight.  Honestly though, I was a bit disappointed at the results when I hopped on the scale and saw the magical number, because when I looked in the mirror, things just weren’t the same as they had been “pre-Sydney”.  The number may have been the same, but that was the ONLY thing that was the same. 

Then, one day last month, I got a call from the fertility specialist that I had been seeing.  He had some news that shook me to my core.  Long story short, my husband and I were more than fortunate to have the one healthy, beautiful little girl that we DID have, and any future pregnancy would be high risk, period.  Wow!  How crazy to think that I could have even lost her.  But I didn’t.  God saw to it that she stayed safe and grew strong and was born absolutely perfect. 

Now…Now I get it.  I am so rich with blessings, my daughter being among the biggest and best.  And the fact that these “battle scars” cover my stomach, and hips, and thighs…it doesn’t matter so much to me anymore.  I’m actually kind of learning to embrace them, along with all of the other little “imperfections” that resulted from my pregnancy with her.  I even point them out to her sometimes, and tell her that those “boo-boos”  are because she was in mommy’s tummy.  It’s pretty neat to see the wheels turning in her little head as she tries to comprehend how exactly she fit in there.  (Haha!) 

I’m still working on getting in better shape, but no matter how much weight I lose or how “toned” I get, there will always be these little scars on my body, to remind me of those 38 weeks, when I carried the love of my life in my womb.  And that in itself is the most beautiful thing I can think of.    So while my body may never be worthy of the cover of a magazine, I can embrace it for what it has allowed me to accomplish and experience, I can look at myself in the mirror (even in a bathing suit) and be happy with what I see,  and I can tell my daughter with confidence, “My body is beautiful, because it gave me YOU!”

Friends

There is a certain level of friendship, where even when you don't see each other for months, or maybe even years at a time, when you are together, it's like you were never apart. You can reminisce and laugh about “back then” and celebrate where you both are now, even if you are in very different places in your lives and have become very different people.  The few friends that I have that fall into that category I must say, are my most treasured

I bet they know who they are. ♥

Motherhood

It’s wiping her tears. It’s kissing her boo-boos.
It’s sheets covered in vomit and a bottom covered in poo.
It’s sometimes frustrating and often exhausting.
It’s a freshly washed face covered with red frosting.
It’s repeating your words five times in a row.
It’s using a vacation day because of the snow.
It’s singing silly songs that you don’t even like.
It’s trips to the ER at quarter past midnight.
It’s learning to say “no” when it would be easier to say “yes”.
It’s being “okay” with your house looking a mess.
It’s counting to ten when you just want to scream.
It’s a “personal timeout” to let off some steam.
It’s embracing the stretch marks and your widening hips.
It’s squeezing and wiggling ‘til your jeans finally zip.
So if you’re wondering how come I’m not singing the blues.
It’s the HUGS and the KISSES and the “MOMMY, I LOVE YOU”s!

Not Okay...

At what point is it not okay to not be okay? When does the world expect you to stop crying, to stop hurting, to stop thinking and talking about it? As the days pass, the characters slip back into their daily routines and their memory of your tragedy becomes more and more dim. I suppose that’s just how it is. When it’s not your hurt, the impact doesn’t linger nearly as long. I wouldn’t expect anyone to feel the way I do. Why would they? They have their own daily struggles and personal heartbreaks that they are dealing with.

The difficulty of matching the words to the feelings makes it lonely, and when you top it all of with a thick layer of self-consciousness and insecurities, sometimes it’s hardly bearable. What would people think if they knew that despite my “faith” and my “hope”, that every day is still a struggle, that sometimes my smiles aren’t real, and that many times the words I write are for my own benefit and encouragement, not really anyone else’s?

I suppose with everything being somewhat “fresh” that most people can still excuse my sadness and lack of interest. But eventually they won’t and I’ll be expected to keep going, just like everybody else.

I don’t want to come across like I’m sad and depressed every minute of every day, but I would be lying if I said that a day went by that I was not sad and depressed for at least a few minutes. I guess having to face all of the potential medical obstacles this last week, resurrected a lot of the hurt and fear that I have tried to keep hidden these last few weeks.

So here is a small snapshot of one little piece of my heart. I have fumbled with my words and realize that they might not make much sense to anyone but me, but at least they are finally free. They are out there, and I’m not wasting my energy on trying to hold them back anymore.

I Will Carry You

There were photographs I wanted to take
Things I wanted to show you
Sing sweet lullabies, wipe your teary eyes
Who could love you like this?

 People say that I am brave but I'm not
Truth is I'm barely hanging on
But there's a greater story
Written long before me
Because He loves you like this

So I will carry you
While your heart beats here
Long beyond the empty cradle
Through the coming years
I will carry you
All my life
And I will praise the One Who's chosen me
To carry you

 Such a short time
Such a long road
All this madness
But I know
That the silence
Has brought me to His voice
And He says...

 I've shown her photographs of time beginning
Walked her through the parted seas
Angel lullabies, no more teary eyes
Who could love her like this?

 I will carry you
While your heart beats here
Long beyond the empty cradle
Through the coming years
I will carry you
All your life
And I will praise the One Who's chosen Me
To carry you



**Words written by a mother who carried her daughter to term knowing that her child would not survive outside of her womb.  Her daughter died 3 hours after she was born.  What an amazing testamony this woman had.

Our 1st Appointment

So we went to the fertility specialist today. He was really nice and very thorough. We sat and talked for nearly an hour about our personal medical histories, my family’s medical history, and all of the possible things that could have gone wrong with my lost pregnancies. He did an exam, which included an ultrasound of my reproductive organs. Everything from my exam looked perfect (except that he, like my regular OB, suggested I could lose a little weight). ((SIGH)) YES, I know…and I’m working on that!


At the end of the appointment, we were given the option to undergo more tests OR walk out of the office and go ahead and start trying to conceive again. I didn’t even blink when I said, I wanted any relevant test done. I want to be as informed as possible going into my next pregnancy. Given my history of losses, we were told that the possibility of me walking out without any testing and getting pregnant again and having another miscarriage AFTER a confirmed pregnancy were 40%!!! Even with everything APPEARING to be perfect, it was still 40%. That made both B and I very uncomfortable.

So the doctor gave us the list of tests that would be performed.

I have to go and get blood drawn. They will be checking for everything from clotting disorders to abnormal insulin levels and anything in between. Then, in a few weeks I will be going in for a “dye” test. They will literally inject a dye into my reproductive organs and make sure that there are no abnormalities or obstructions in my tubes (which might explain my ectopic pregnancy, and put me at a high risk of another ectopic in the future).

Now during the entire appointment my husband sat unassumingly, only speaking when spoken too. As far as he was concerned, he was there for moral support and nothing else. Needless to say he was a bit shocked and became extremely uncomfortable when the doctor handed him a little plastic cup and told him that he would be running tests on B’s “contributions” as well. To say my husband was caught off guard was quite the understatement.

It was all I could do to contain the giggles as he sat stiffly in his chair, nodding and listening to the doctor’s instructions. I have been poked and prodded and endured more embarrassing procedures than I can count. As small as this was, it felt good to know that he was going to have to experience just a small portion of what I have in the last few years.

The whole process of performing the tests and waiting for the results will take one to two months, which really works out well anyway, since my body needs at least that much time to recover from this last pregnancy. I’m not really sure what to expect, but I’m very excited that we are on our way to (hopefully) getting more information that will help us to bring that 40% down to a number that is a little less daunting.

Thank you to those of you who have showered us with prayers, love and support. We covet them more than you know.

Untitled

October 1st, 2010,- I could feel the blood rushing to my face as slammed the car door and collapsed into the driver’s seat. Within seconds my face was flooded with tears. I picked up my cell phone and called the only person I could think to call, my mom. She knew all the gory details of the past few days and she knew this call was coming. Right then, all I really wanted was to fall into her arms and hear her tell me that everything was going to be okay; that she still loved me; that God still loved me; that I was not a horrible mother. I knew she’d tell me all of those things. She did. But in those moments the guilt and sadness that enveloped me was so overwhelming that nothing she said really sunk in. The only words that I could hear were my own thoughts screaming unconscionably, “You just aborted your baby!”, “You pulled the trigger!”, “You ended your child’s life!”…


September 25th, 2010 – I stumbled out of bed excited and nervous. I was throwing Syd’s 2nd birthday party and everything had to be perfect! I had everything together. The weather was going to be beautiful. That Saturday was going to be happy and memorable; lots of smiles and laughs and lots of pictures to be taken.

Within five minutes my whole world came crashing down. The sight of dark blood on toilet paper had me in tears. I couldn’t believe this was happening again. Less than a year before we had lost a baby, and now….again. All I could think was, “Why, God?”

Somehow, I pulled myself back together. I had to. I was throwing my baby girl a birthday party and I was not prepared to give this as an excuse for canceling. So I put on my happy face, tucked away the tears and kept on moving.

I learned that day how amazingly composed one can be when they have no other choice. I made it through all of the decorating, the greeting of guests, the paddleboat rides without shedding one solitary tear. I even mustered up a few smiles for the camera.

September 26th, 2010 – More blood, and off to the ER I went. There were endless hours of waiting and one very long ultrasound to endure, and as I heard that heavy metal hospital door slam behind me, I fell apart again. I had no more information than I had when I walked in. The doctors couldn’t tell me what my heart already seemed to know.

September 30th, 2010 – My third visit to the hospital in five days. I sat in an empty hallway alone, wondering why the results of this, my third ultrasound, were taking so much longer than the ones before. The previous procedures had come up with nothing but more questions. The hcg levels in my blood were continuing to rise, abnormally slowly, but they were rising none-the-less. The ultrasound tech reappeared finally and told me I had to call my doctor. I knew it was bad news from the concern in her eyes.

I dialed the numbers slowly. I was afraid. At that moment, I didn’t really want to know. I just wanted to hide. This wasn’t really happening. The words, “You are still pregnant” pierced my ears. A lump began to grow in my throat and the tears fell freely. I knew what was going to come next, “…but the pregnancy is ectopic. The baby is growing on your ovary.” My recollection of the rest of the conversation is a lot fuzzier. I just remember walking away, knowing my child was still growing inside me and knowing that if it continued to grow, it could very well end my life.

My doctor wasted no time getting me an appointment to have a single dose of Methotrexate administered. It was scheduled for the next morning.


October 1st, 2010 – I prayed a lot that morning. I had prayed a lot the night before too. I wanted answers. I wanted to hear God say that the decision to have this procedure was okay. That He wasn’t going to be disappointed in me, that this guilt and anger that so overwhelmed me were born of my sadness and not my conscience; that I wasn’t going against everything I believed by terminating this pregnancy.

My sweaty palms gripped my keys as I walked across the parking lot and into the hospital. A million thoughts raced through my head. What would people think of me after this? What did God think of me? What would the nurses think? How would they treat me? Would they know WHY I was terminating or would it even matter to them? Would I get sick afterwards? How long would the effects of this injection last?

I was checked in quickly and led back to a room with a television, a bed and a lounge chair. I sat in the room for nearly 45 minutes watching the news and wishing for all of this to just be over. Finally, a nurse came in. She was nice. She asked about how far along I was in my pregnancy, my weight, if I had any questions about the Methotrexate literature they had given me. After my questions were answered, she disappeared again and returned soon after with another nurse and two huge syringes filled with a bright yellow concoction.

I smiled and took a deep breath. The older nurse explained that the injection had to be given in the buttocks. Maybe for them, this wasn’t a big deal, but for me this whole experience was already heart wrenching and embarrassing. Now I was going to have to drop trou and bend over the bed. I honestly felt like I was dying inside. I was so humiliated and I felt so misunderstood and so alone. As the needles sank into my flesh, it felt like a knife was piercing my heart.

The nurses left and told me to take my time; that I could leave when I was ready. I felt a small wave of relief as I collected my things and made a beeline for the parking lot…


February 28th, 2011 – It’s been exactly 5 months. I have done a lot more research on ectopic and ovarian pregnancies and while I hope to never have to make that decision again, it is a decision that I am finally at peace with. I will admit, the guilt lingered for weeks, if not months, but the encouragement and love that I received from my friends and family let me know that I could let go of the guilt, that they didn’t think less of me and that God didn’t either.

I know someday I’ll understand what all of this was for. I’ll be able to look back and see how these events have shaped me and how they have changed the direction of my life. I am already beginning to see the evidence of God’s hand in all of this, and I know that He can and will use even this for His purpose and His Glory.

I’m not really sure what I wanted to accomplish by sharing my story. I just know that God put it on my heart to share. So here it is. Take from it what you wish and thank you for reading.

Filling the Void

I signed up for Weight Watchers last night. I know I CAN make it work. I just don’t know yet if I will. I am well into Day 1 and already realizing this is NOT going to be easy. I'm going to have to learn to fill the "void" with something besides food...easier said than done when you have done it for so long.

I have had more than enough today to feel satisfied, and yet, I sit here pouting because I want to eat. Honestly, I don't know anymore if this feeling is truly hunger or if I have been tricking myself into thinking that I need to eat when in fact I am just bored, or sad, or lonely.

The fact that I am becoming less and less afraid of failure has opened me up to lots of new possibilities, and even if I don’t blow everyone away like Jennifer Hudson with her Weight Watchers weight loss, maybe at least I’ll learn a little about myself in this process and be that much closer to being a healthier, happier me.

Time will tell.  Wish me luck!

March 10th....

....is my 1st appointment with a fertility specialist.

I went to my follow up appointment today and my doctor said that usually because of how expensive the tests are they don't run tests until you have had 3 m/c, but since I have had 2 m/c and an ectopic, she felt it was probably a good time to send me to someone who knows more than her. I'm so glad and yet so nervous about seeing him. I never thought I'd have problems having children.....

So now we wait another 3 weeks to see if this doctor thinks we have a good enough case to do more research before trying to get pregnant again. On the one hand I really hope he sees something that my OB didn't see and we can get some answers as to "why". On the other hand, I want him to tell me it was all just "bad luck" and we have a great chance of having a healthy baby next time......

Only Heaven knows what the outcome will be, but I am glad that we are finally going to see someone who specializes in this kinda thing and will have the answers......if there are any.

The Last Day of Your Life

If you woke up today knowing that it could be the last day of your life, would you have done anything differently than you did yesterday? Would you have remembered to kiss your husband good-bye when you walk out the door? Would you have called your mom to tell her you love her? Would you have given your child a few extra snuggles before dropping them off at the sitters? Would you have cranked up your favorite CD and sang along, even when you didn’t know the words? What would you eat? Who would you talk to? How would you react when people cut you off in traffic or in the grocery line?

If you woke up today knowing that these could be your last hours on Earth, would you be sure to right any wrongs you had done? Would you look back at your life and know that you had made difference?

If you took your last breath today, Could people truly say, “She was a great woman!”, “She really cared about others.”, “She was a dedicated mother and wife!”, “She loved God with all of her mind, body and soul.”? What would people say about you? How would they remember you?

More importantly, what would your creator say to you when you saw His face? Would He say, “Welcome home, my faithful child!”?

Would He even know you at all?

If these were your last moments…If today was all you had…

Love Is......♥

Love is faith. Love is trust. Love is patience. Love is blood, sweat and tears. It is letting go. It is holding tight. It is give and take. Love is giving your best and embracing them even at their worst. Love is always true, is always right, and love never fails. ♥


Happy Valentine’s Day!

He loves me not.....

Today I am fighting the urge fall into the cold embrace of a companion who always welcomes me with open arms, but who has never truly loved me. No matter how many times he fails me, I keep running back to him, knowing he will only cause me more grief. Whether he loves me or not, he is constant. He is always there. He never tells me no. When my world is being ripped apart at the seams, he is the one place that I can hide. He gives me what I come for, but always leaves me feeling empty somehow.

You would think that after all this time I would have come to my senses. You would think I would be able to let him go and move on. You would think that I could find a friend who would make me better instead of always bringing me down. I know he is going to break my heart. He always does, but today, all I want is him.

And tomorrow when the numbers on the scale are larger than they were today…..I’ll shake my head and curse his name and tell myself never again……just like I did today.

The Miracle of SJB







SYDNEY JANE

 “Mommy, you were sad at the doctor’s?”

My daughter has asked me that question at least once every day since last Tuesday. Obviously my tears left an impression on her and she is still trying to wrap her little mind around the events of that day. I hadn’t intended to cry in front of her. I really thought I’d be able to hold it together. Tuesday, I failed miserably. She witnessed it all; the anxious questions, the concerned looks from the doctor, and of course my crocodile tears.

Tuesday was supposed to be an exciting day for her. She was going to see “Mommy’s baby in her tummy!” just like we had done 2 weeks before. She had associated my ultrasounds with happiness and excitement and when the mood of the moment changed suddenly, she was left very confused and upset.

Now the questions come every day. She wants to know about the baby in my tummy. She wants to understand why I was sad at the doctor. She wants to “kiss it, make it better”. Her innocence is so genuine and her concern so true. I can’t help but smile and just kiss her face when she comes to me now to ask about my baby or my tears. The rest of the world may be afraid to ask me how I am, but she continues to ask with conviction and concern, sometimes as many as 3 or 4 times a day. Even though she doesn’t understand, she still asks….and every time that she asks my heart aches a little less.

Words cannot express how thankful I am for the miracle of Sydney Jane. Her smiles light up my darkest days and her hugs and kisses make everything “ok”. She can touch my soul with the touch of her hand, and when she says “I love you!” I know that my Heavenly Father is smiling down on me.

Thank you, Lord, for the miracle of Sydney Jane and for showing us your love through her.  She has brought us so much joy and we are so blessed and humbled to have been given the awesome responsibility of being her parents.  It is a task we do not and will not ever take for granted.

I Saw God Today.

Today we went to our doctor appointment.  We had an ultrasound and to our amazement our baby was still alive!  It was measuring smaller than it should and it's heartbeat was only 106 beats per minute....abnormally slow.  The doctor sent us home with only a sliver of hope. 

6 hours exactly after we got home, I passed the baby.....and as unbelievable as it may sound, it was the most amazing thing I've ever seen!

The whole pregnancy was still in tact. The sac and the placenta were still attached to each other and somehow the sac was still "inflated". You could see inside of it and see the baby....his eyes, his little arm and leg buds, his little "tail"/spine......absolutely AMAZING and beautiful. The details were so much more than what I could ever have imagined.  The pictures in books just don't do it justice.  It was breathtaking!

God kept our little one alive so we could see his beating heart this morning.  It was such a precious gift to see our child when his spirit was still here on earth........And then God gave us this experience of literally HOLDING our baby after he had passed. It is something my husband and I both will never forget. Our child, smaller than a dime, in our hands....perfect and beautiful and finally at peace.  It was absolutely indescribable.  I got to see my baby's face today. I literally got to HOLD him...something I never DREAMED would be possible.  Out of all of this devastation,  out of what seemed to be just another disappointment, God gave us both something that will change our lives forever. He showed us His love and allowed us to see and experience something that I dare say most people never will. 

I stand in awe of my Creator.  He is so good, so compassionate, so loving.........and I am so blessed to call  Him my Heavenly Father!

Our u/s picture from this morning:

Giving It To God......

Today is a hard day.  Things with my pregnancy have taken a turn for the worse.  All signs are pointing to this pregnancy ending very soon.  At this point there is nothing to do but give this all to God....which is what I have tried to do from Day One....but now, I'm not just giving my pregnancy to Him.....I'm giving Him my fear, my anxiety, my sadness......and in return He is giving me peace.  The tears come and go, but my faith this time is unwavering.  I really, truly believe that God has a plan and that He can and will be glorified through all of this.  I am grateful for the month that I have had with this little soul and whether I have only a few more hours or a few more days or a lifetime with this child, I will continue to cherish every second.  God is in control and He has blessed me richly.  I will hold tight to His promises and continue to praise Him for His goodness. 

Hold me tight, Dear Lord.  I need your embrace today.


I Thessalonians 5:18 - Give thanks in ALL circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.

He's Got The Little Bitty Baby, In His Hands.....

My husband and I found out on January 4th that we are expecting Baby #4. (Baby #1 is Syd, Babies #2 & 3 were lost during the 1st trimester of my pregnancies). We are both starting to feel good about this pregnancy, even though I am only about 6 weeks along.

We've had blood work done to ensure that my levels are doubling as they should, and we got an ultrasound done a few days ago that confirmed that baby is growing and is located in a safe place this time. (My last pregnancy was an Ovarian Pregnancy so it was not viable and was actually a potential threat to my life, if allowed to continue growing, so we are VERY glad that this baby is located in a place that it can grow to term.)

We are both cautiously optimistic as I have had no problems so far and no indication that this pregnancy is anything but perfect. God has brought us through a very difficult time, these past 18 months and we finally feel like this MIGHT be the light at the end of the tunnel that we have been wishing and hoping and praying for.

Stay tuned as I'm sure I will be sharing what happens either way. God has brought us this far and we know that whatever happens with this little one, He will continue sustain us.

We appreciate your continued thoughts and prayers.