Um...it's about to get real up in here

um.  I could be having a baby in roughly 19 days.  Could.  As in...it's totally possible. um.  omg.

Now when people ask me when I'm due I think I'm going to start saying 3-6 weeks.  I have an appointment Tuesday with the Dr who is hopefully going to reverse my surgery here in Tonasket so I don't have to go back to Spokane to do that.  Reversal is the last week of April.  Liv could arrive shortly after.

Or she could TOTALLY be my child and take another 2-3 weeks just to drive us all nuts. sigh.

Last weekend Ken and I drove down to the Tri-Cities where I met up with my momma, sister, and 2 besties from Boise who brought me long-distance baby shower loves from my friends and family in Idaho.  We had beautiful adjoining rooms overlooking the river, ate luxurious lemon-raspberry cupcakes, (Roo...you outdid yourself once again...AND they didn't make my blood sugar spike! magic!)  and took maternity pictures at the park on the river during one of the most gorgeous days all year (Chay...your photographic eye was spot on as per usual!).  Liv kicked for Auntie Jenn but snubbed both my mom and bestie.  of course.  It was so fun to be spoiled by my Idaho family and I just want to say, Manda, Chay, and Jenn...you guys did an amazing job organizing and packing up the joy and fun of a shower and making it happen on my turf so I didn't have to travel all the way home.  As much as I wished I could go to Boise it just wasn't in the cards.  I love you guys endlessly.
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After those shenanigans we stayed with Ken's mom Saturday night and Sunday Ken's fabulous cousin, Janice, hosted another baby shower for us in her backyard with lots of help from Dorothy, Diane and Sarah and, of course, the incomparable Tami Lynn...that girl can throw a par-tay!  So much fun to be surrounded by Ken's side of our wonderful family and some fabulous friends thrown in for good measure (Hi Sarah!!!) Yummy treats, super cute decorations, cake and fun games (seriously...guessing baby food, Tami?  It's impossible if the answer is pears, zucchini and corn!  Who mixes those together?)  And...the pile. of. gifts.  I can't even.

Ken and I are so overwhelmed.  When we lost Jax we felt like everyone around us grieved him too.  We were not alone in our loss. And now we are not alone in our celebration.  We feel suffocated ( in a GOOD way!) by the celebration of our precious miracle!  Everyone who has mourned with us, prayed for us, and encouraged us, is now celebrating with us and we can't be more grateful. 

Your love is lavished on us in emotional, spiritual AND tangible ways.  Your generosity is so amazing and so appreciated. 

So here we are...a few short weeks from the arrival of our long awaited and long prayed for miracle.  I can't believe she's almost here.  And during my favorite time of the year, too!  We unpacked her stroller and car seat the other day and while neither Ken nor I is certain of how the car seat snaps into the stroller (Bridgette...I need lessons, dearest) I can't wait to take her out and show her off!

Found this at my pharmacy this morning.  Pretty much sums it up.  God is so good.

He is so good

photo @cherishadrea (Instagram)

"I’m ashamed to say that even after all God had done, I still spent many evenings worrying."  Natasha Metzler

Ditto, girlfriend.  Ditto.

I was recently reading a series of posts by a blogger I love- you can find her here:  www.natashametzler.com - and she was relaying God's goodness in a particularly trying season of their lives trying to adopt and build a house at the same time.  How God provided for them was completely miraculous but she admitted even the big miracles weren't enough to settle her worries.

I know the feeling.  The fact is, God has come through with some seriously huge miracles in trying to build our own family.  Even now, I'm celebrating making it to 28 weeks today!  Viability!  The start of my 3rd trimester!  And even staring those miracles in the mirror each morning doesn't stop me from fearing that he isn't finishing this journey with me.

WHAAAAAT???  How am I still so pitifully faithless?

"You’d think I’d believe by then, wouldn’t you? You’d think that I would have just charged ahead...God had this, y’all! He did. But I still struggled to believe.  So God just kept showing up."  Natasha Metzler

Oh how our wonderful God diligently shows up in our faithlessness to reinforce his goodness and whisper his love over us time and time again.

Every single step of this pregnancy I have plenty to worry about.  More than enough to consume my heart and blind me from God's goodness.  I'm entirely capable of blocking out his provision looking instead at all the darkness that "could" overtake me. 

The  what-ifs.  The statistics.  The horror stories people insist on sharing.  The compounding terror.  It consumes, smothers, overwhelms, suffocates.  Kills.  It kills whatever little faith I can muster.

Oh, God.  I'm drowning here!  He knows.  He didn't want me to choose this path.  He tried to keep me from it and I ignored him.

And still he gives.  Still he meets my needs.  He shows up and calms my fears. Through his Word.  In the stillness of the night.  Through worship lyrics that shuffle on my ipod.  Through others:  A note in the mail.  A surprise visit.  A small gift.  A kind gesture. A text.  A Facebook comic.  A back rub from my hubby.  An offer to make us dinner.

And I'm humbled.  Brought back to a simple place where friends become family and family reaches across miles to send love and encouragement.  Reminding me that I. AM. NOT. ALONE. It's not too much. It's not too long.  It's not too far.  We. Will. Make. It. 

"I think that was when I first started to actually believe. So like Thomas, I had to see the evidence before finding confidence."  Natasha Metzler

Oh ye of little faith.  ye=me.

Forgive me, Jesus.  I haven't let you shine in me.  I've let the enemy overwhelm me because I've listened to his lies. I can't walk this road without you...you've watched me try.  Let's start again.

"And this is the God I serve. When I’m probably breaking His heart with my faithlessness, He gives me gifts. He whispers, “I know you’re scared. I know you’re afraid. But I’ve got this.”"  Natasha Metzler

"For the LORD your God is living among you. He is a mighty savior. He will take delight in you with gladness. With his love, he will calm all your fears. He will rejoice over you with joyful songs."  Zephaniah 3:17 NLT

We made it this far...

I'm 23 weeks today.



I've never been 23 weeks pregnant before.

Whew.

I knew January was going to be a rough month.  I knew the gestational date that Jaxson came would fall in January.  My Dr wanted to order tests a bit earlier than normal that would fall in January and my timeline for watching for the same issues associated with Jaxson would fall in January.

Plus January is my least favorite month.  It's dark and cold and gloomy with nothing fun to look forward to.

I didn't know my January would end up blowing up with an ER visit, an urgent trip to the specialist in Spokane, surgery (eeeeekkkk!!!!) and 2 weeks of bed rest.

sigh.

Looking back I see the hand of God guiding us to the right decisions that I whole-heartedly believe saved my daughter's life.  If we hadn't gone to Spokane when we did I know history would have repeated itself.  And I might not have made it to 23 weeks again.

But here we are.  I'm propped up on some pillows, feeling pretty healed, if not slower getting around than I expected this early, and feeling Lil Girl kick around in my tummy happily.

We made it this far.

My hope is starting to spread that we'll make it all the way.  One Dr I saw swore that as soon as I got further with this pregnancy than I did with Jaxson I'd feel such relief.  And I do.  I finally do feel like I can relax just a little.

I even felt brave enough to start a nursery dream board on Pinterest and choose colors for a quilt my dad needs to start working on.  Little, fun, things I couldn't bring myself to dream about out of sheer terror of what might go wrong.

...And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us.  ~Romans 5:3-5

First Love

"Tell me when did I lose my first love?  Where did the fire and passion go?  Burn in me a holy fire.  Give me back my lost desire and restore in me the love I felt for you."   ~Avalon, First Love 1999

When you walk through a devastating loss there is real trauma caused.  With trauma comes debilitating fear and flashbacks called PTSD.  My counselor was the first person/resource to open my eyes to the possibility that losing Jaxson was a trauma and may well have come with symptoms of PTSD.

For those of you reading this who immediately just thought, "Well that's certainly an overreaction," I was with you for awhile.  Had the exact same thought.  Now I'm not so sure.

Trauma breaks something so deep down inside you that the depths of its effects might not come to light for some time.

I thought I wasn't naive.  I "knew" getting pregnant again would come with it's own set of challenges. I "knew" it wouldn't solve all my problems or fill that hole left in me by losing Jaxson and Kiwi.  I "knew" I'd experience new sets of fears.  I did NOT know it would surface some of those deep-seeded fears that were sown in trauma.  I did not know how deeply I would feel the fear of losing another.  I did not know how deeply I would question my faith in God's ability to carry us through these 9 months.  I did not know I would push Him away to protect my heart. I thought the joy of finally getting pregnant again would trump every other emotion.  It didn't.  It doesn't.

I've held God at arms-length just in case He breaks my heart again.  I uncover new anger at Him every day.  I cling even more tightly and futilely to what little control I have over this little life growing inside me.

Then today I decided I needed a little retreat to work through some of these emotions.  Repent.  Learn to trust again.  Worship.  Pray.

I stumbled upon a song in my worship book that was my undoing:

We've been crumbled, we've been crushed
City walls have turned to dust
Broken hands and blistered feet
We walk for miles to find relief

When the thief takes, when our hopes cave
You build us back
You build us back

When the earth shakes, when the world breaks
You build us back
You build us back

We are scared, we are poor
All our safety nets are torn
We've been humbled to our knees
From these ruins, we believe

When the thief takes, when our hopes cave
You build us back
You build us back

When the earth shakes, when the world breaks
You build us back
You build us back

Redeemer, redeem us
Restorer, restore us
Oh build us back
Though the mountains be shaken, the hills be removed
Your unfailing love remains
After all that's been taken, Your promise, still sacred
You build us back with precious stones

When the thief takes, when our hopes cave
You build us back
You build us back

When the earth shakes, when the world breaks
You build us back
You build us back

Only our God can repair this kind of brokenness.  Only our God forgives my level of faithlessness.  Only our God loves so unconditionally that he promises to build back the ruins left behind by our traumas.  What other God can I turn to?  Who gives the deep peace I need so badly?  Whose steady love rocks my fears to sleep and gently brushes them away?  Who orchestrates my songbook to flip to the one song that would meet me where my heart is at when I refused to open the pages of His Words to find Him there?  Why would he be so patient?  So kind?  So gentle with my failures?  Because He loves with a love that no human can understand.  I need only to take His word for it.  And one day at a time to let Him prove that no matter where this life leads He promises NEVER to leave me or forsake me...especially when I need him the most. 

Rambling thoughts on pregnancy after loss

Tomorrow I will be 15 weeks pregnant with my 3rd baby. 

I grew up in a family of 3 kids and I always swore (I know, you're really not supposed to do that) I would NEVER (you're not supposed to say that either) have 3 kids. snicker.

Well, well.  I mean, it's not exactly the same since my Jaxson and Kiwi babies are in heaven and not making messes in my house but the irony of being momma to 3 babies is not lost on me.

We announced to the world a week or so ago after having waited until I was solidly in my second trimester and doctors across the board were giving tentative thumbs up.  I kinda felt like a little celebrity in my tiny town of 1,800 people because the day after we posted on Facebook I saw at least a thousand of those people at the Elementary school holiday bazaar and each stopped by my Scentsy table to congratulate me and give me tender hugs.

When we lost Jax in 2012 our little town rallied around us; bringing us meals, sending flowers and "girlfriend, we're thinking of you" packages.  Someone drew me a pencil sketch of Jaxson in Jesus's arms.  Someone else gave me a necklace with his birthstone with room for more stones with more babies.  Others caught onto my obsession with birds since Jaxson was my baby bird and my house is now filled with mementos of him in various bird forms.  Our little town has always made me feel like they lost him too and they miss him too even though they didn't get to hold his tiny 1 pound body. 

So now that we are expecting again I feel like everyone is expecting our miracle along with us.  Can I just tell you how rare and amazing a feeling that is?  To feel like your home away from home is family just the same?  Thank you, Oroville.  You are our family here and we love you and cannot thank you all enough.

I don't suppose I can accurately describe what it feels like to be pregnant after 2 losses especially if you haven't experienced the loss of a child.  It's a complete bundle of excitement, nervous energy, some sleeplessness, paranoia, germiphobia, jealousy (yes, jealousy...the green-eyed monster, once moved-in, doesn't leave easily), fear, joy, curiosity, control-freak-ness, and lots of other emotions.  Being the type of person who naturally experiences multiple emotions at one time it's that feeling on steroids. 

I'm considered high-risk now and that means supplementing hormones, more dr appointments, more ultrasounds, etc.  This equates to = more nausea, more fatigue, more anxiety, and more questions than last time.  What happened with Jax?  Will it happen again?  Can we prevent it?  The list of stuff I'm avoiding is longer than usual.  I think if Ken had his way he would duct tape me to the couch and leave me there until May.  Poor guy.  He's a saint.  A SAINT, people.  I haven't cooked him a decent meal, besides Thanksgiving, since before I left town on Sabbatical in September.  He's gaining sympathy pounds and not a bit happy about it.  Sorry, Babe.  I can't imagine how he must feel.  Being the sort of person who keeps everything inside anyway, I feel his hesitation to be very excited until we get closer and closer to term.  Believe me...I get that.  But it's different for me, obviously, because I am feeling every part of this pregnancy in every part of my body already.  I can't NOT think about this baby 24 hours day.  I suppose work is helping him keep his sanity so he doesn't just wander around our house wringing his hands for the next 6 months.

But the whole thing about being hesitantly excited?  yeah.  tentatively joyful.  It's a weird mixture of pure bliss that my body finally figured out how to conceive again and sheer terror that I won't survive another loss.  Generally people with my type of story call a pregnancy after loss a Rainbow Baby but I really hate that term...at least at the moment.  It's not a rainbow baby until he/she's here. 
in my arms. 
crying.
sleeping.
eating.
pooping. 

Does that show a lack of faith?  If it does I don't know how to fix it.  Nobody ever promised me I'd be a mom here on earth and they aren't promising it now so I have to live day by day.  Each morning I wake up and my first thoughts are, "take your meds!" and after that it's, "let's make it another day, Baby."  Gimme one more day.  One more week.  One more month.  Slowly, by God's grace we might make it to May. 

And then, if everybody's prayers are heard and answered, you'll be here. 
In my arms. 
And I'll finally get to take you home...
and one day hear you call me Mom.

Withering

I was sitting out on my front porch the other day and notice my impatiens hanging basket was withering again.  Withering in the blasted heat that's blazed over our town this summer.  Withering from a wind storm that came through last week and took off most of it's blooms.  Withering from a serious lack of consistent watering.

Because of the terrible, early heat I gave up on my beloved garden this year...I'm generally so thankful to be on city amenities as opposed to a septic system or irrigation water but I would have given my right arm for the unlimited, life-giving water from the irrigation district this summer.  I probably wouldn't have abandoned my plants otherwise but all my watering was keeping pitifully small plants green with no growth.  What was the point?  I'd keep going over my allotted city water allowance and still wouldn't get any fruit.  So I stopped watering the garden and nearly stopped watering the hanging baskets.

The result has been sad little baskets with puny blooms and ever-withering leaves.

I couldn't help but see the metaphor for several other areas of my life.  Namely, my physical, emotional and spiritual health.

Each area has taken a good beating.  I'm feeling banged up, bruised, weak, and depleted.  The heat was turned on and never really brought back down to a manageable level.  I've been blown and tossed around...because of some things completely out of my control and because of sets of choices I'm completely responsible for.

I feel like I regularly douse my life with a good-long watering in one of these areas only to leave it to dry up, depleted of nutrients for days on end later.  I'll spend a bunch of time in worship one day letting the music soothe and cleanse my dry spirit but I won't consistently let the music flow through my life in a steady stream.  I'll commit to eating great and will stick with it for a few days; choosing nutrient-laden foods, cutting out the junk, and drinking plenty of water to detox.  Eventually my lack of self-control gets the better of me and I drop the charade instead letting my body run off fumes of protein and fiber and slogging through sugar, fat, carbs and caffeine.  I'll get together with a dear friend and let life-affirming conversation build me up and encourage me but eventually depression, scheduling conflicts and busyness creeps in and keeps me from connecting on a regular basis leaving me feeling lonely and isolated.

My withered hanging basket might technically have a plant in it but it's not a pretty plant.  It's not thriving or blooming or giving off a fragrance.  It droops and sags and even if I get it to perk up once in awhile it'll take dedicated care to get it back to it's former glory. 

Ahh the dedication, self-control and discipline it takes to nurture a plant, a garden, a heart, and a body.  It takes making the right choices over and over and over.  Especially when you don't "want" to.  It takes hanging on long enough to see results to make you want to to see it through. 

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.  ~Galatians 6:9

As if...I only wish I owned this backyard! 

TTC

Trying to have a baby sucks.

Whether it's just taking a long time or in my case: risking another after a tragic loss, TTC (trying to conceive...there are lots of acronyms in this world) is filled with worry, stress, impatience, calendars, temperatures, charting, too much information and...MEDICATION.

I don't even know how women trying IVF do it.  I'm just taking Clomid and I think I'm going crazy.  IVF medications and procedures are so much more costly, time consuming, stressful and side-effects prone.  Reason No #456 why I don't want to do IVF.  I'd never survive.

At first I thought I was so lucky...the 3 rounds of Clomid at the regular dose had almost no effect on me.  My Dr and I were both thrilled.  No down side!  But those rounds didn't work so we upped the ante with 3 rounds of a double dose.  At first I was just a little dizzy and I thought, no prob...I can handle this.  And it went away so I thought I was good. 

I just finished taking my second round at the double dose and lately I've been surprised at how hungry I am.  I mean, I can eat. But it's more than that...it's a ravenousness and feeling never satisfied.  After a couple of week of that unrelenting feeling I started thinking, maybe this is the Clomid!  Well after that door opened in my head I realized Clomid may also be to blame for other weirdness...namely, a deepening depression. 

Oh. My. Goodness. the depression.  I thought I was depressed after losing Jaxson.  But honestly? This has been worse.  While you grieve and mourn after a sudden loss it's a bit surreal and you feel sort of out of your body.  Not every emotion sinks down deep.  I was so anxious to try again and I was completely sure it would be easier for me to get pregnant a second time.

After 3 years and another loss the waiting gets to you.  And now I'm compounding the problem with medication trying to end the problem.  It's a lose-lose. 

I don't really even know why I'm writing this particular blog.  I guess I just want to open up this part of my heart...expose the part that would rather gloss over all this waiting and trying and telling people I'm doing OK when, in fact, I'm actually drowning.  I'm wandering deeper into the Dark Night of my Soul...I thought I'd been there 3 years ago.  This is worse.  The not knowing.  The hopelessness.  The misunderstandings.  The fear that this season will never be over.  The watching over and over as others welcome healthy, beautiful babies in their arms. 

Knowing this medication is to blame helps a little.  It explains a lot and fills in a few blanks.  Maybe I'm not crazy.  Maybe this too shall pass.  Maybe this will be the last round.  Maybe it'll be my turn next.  Maybe...

If you know other women who are TTC...please be patient with them.  Please don't spout platitudes or tell them to relax or to stop trying cuz then it'll just magically happen.  Please don't tell them to just adopt like that's a no-big-deal kind of decision.  Please don't tell them stories about how so-and-so took this weird plant extract and stood on her head for an hour every other day and that's how she got pregnant.  Please don't tell them it'll happen when it's the right time and now is not it.  None of it helps.  None of it. 

And please, please be patient with them, us, me.  That girl you know who is struggling to have a baby might be on a medication that makes her feel like a monster took over her body.  She might be in the middle of the biggest crisis of faith she's ever experienced.  She might be feeling crazy so she acts crazy.  Just go with it.  And love her anyway.