Triggers & Peace

**Written a month ago, but deciding to share before our baby girl arrives**

Many triggers have come my way these past few weeks. You see, a year ago, I sat on that exam table looking at an ultrasound image of a lifeless tiny baby form. An image that just a few weeks prior showed a heart beating away, a tiny body growing right on track... The silence was deadly. The Doctor took measurements. Silently. I couldn't look at Andrew. Nor could he look at me. He just held my hand and the tears began to fall. No explanation was needed. But, then the silence broke. The Doctor began the spiel where she explains how this isn't my fault. How it's common. How there's nothing we could have done and no way we could have known. Our little one likely just wasn't fit for this life. Those images, that moment, will never be erased from my memory. The minutes following of walking out through the office in front of the perfectly pregnant awaiting patients were painful. Oh, so painful. Not to mention that I had just finished a long stretch of night shift on at work and hadn't slept. That always helps... not. We had to wait in the car for an hour and a half for another appointment confirming what we already knew. I was hungry and tired, but my blotchy, red, tear filled face was no match for anywhere public and Andrew had to somehow use every minute to continue studying for his boards just a few days away. What now, I thought. What on earth, now?

That terrible day began months of me living in a dark place. That terrible day began months of trying to "be okay" and trying to be supportive of my newly pregnant friends. They graciously loved me through my pain and lovingly supported me through the months of treatments trying to get pregnant again. They listened to my anger about the bills that kept rolling in from the D&C my body required. I held such bitterness that my loss of a baby cost more than the birth of a baby.

...I couldn't help but smile when my "Gabriel wildflower" bloomed in the back yard this week. One single orange flower. A gift from above...

Though the weather was bright and sunny, those summer months were dark and dreary in my soul. They were stormy with confused emotions, lack of sleep, and what I believe to be acute depression. I leaned on the Lord, my husband, and friends/family as best I knew how. Then one month's of fertility treatments finally worked. I was overjoyed; but also confused with how to feel. I can only assume that others experiencing similar scenarios have felt some of the same realm of emotions. Will I always feel sad this time of year? I wonder. Was it just that I walked by that same exam room? Was is because I found my crinkled up airline ticket from the week we think that the baby was lost? Many triggers arose that week and I re-mourned our loss. Something tells me I needed to do so before our baby girl arrives. I needed to re-process those emotions and take the time to grieve. 

So, the the coast we went- surrounded by his creation. I dove into God's word. Listened to his promises with open ears and an open heart. Crying out to him, peace came over me. True peace. 

As we await the coming of our daughter, my heart and soul are overwhelmed with excitement. Andrew and I will always remember our first, our loss, the things we learned from it, how we grew, how we leaned on each other and on Christ like never before. But, with open arms, we welcome this baby... and we thank the Lord for the peace he has given.

Bump love

 

A year ago last week, we were finding out about our first pregnancy with Gabriel. Such joy filled our hearts. Abounding joy! As spring has fully arrived, I cannot help but remember those sweet weeks with our first babe and also re-feel sadness that we never got to hold that precious one in our arms. I am reminded of how spring turned into a warm and depressing summer, which then turned into a hopeful late Fall when we learned of our pregnancy with this little one in November. Winter was worrisome and fear filled my soul. Coming full circle, now the warm air fills my lungs with hope and happiness. Flowers bring luminous color that are a reminder of God's faithfulness. Our hearts are once again filled with overflowing joy and I anxiously await meeting the little human under this bump of mine. 

As Easter approaches, I think specifically of the trust Jesus had in his heavenly Father. Jesus knew of the pain and suffering he would feel on the cross. He even asked God to remove this cup from him-- to change plans so to speak. Oh, how many times did I plead with the Lord to give us back our sweet Gabriel. Oh, how many times I cried out in sadness and pain pleading for this to all just be a dream. But, ultimately, Jesus trusted God and remained faithful. Even while suffering on the cross, he reached out to the thief next to him offering forgiveness. I am challenged to have such faith, trust, and courage. It isn't easy living the day to day following heart ache. Many lessons are learned. The greatest for me being that I do not control this life of mine. As someone who lived hour to hour from her planner, this was quite the lesson to learn. But much needed. I don't know why tragedy happens, why innocent lives are lost. But, I know that I trust in God's plan for my life. Today's encouraging verse on my iPhone app reads, "But as it is written, 'what no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him." 1 Corinthians 2:9

I could not have imagined the life I have. I would not have planned it necessarily so. But I'm ever thankful that someone greater is in control. He has a beautiful plan for this life of ours. It is so difficult to see in the day to day, but even over the past year, I see immense beauty. I hope to look back 5, 10, 20 years from now and feel the same though I know that new heartaches will arise. 

Happy Easter week to you!

This was a spur of the moment, ten minute "let's get some real photos since I'm actually dressed nice" outing. Andrew lovingly agreed and did an amazing job. He has learned a lot through my photography journey and I think that he probably does a better job on the shooting portion. We went back to our favorite spot down the road. Last year's Christmas photo was taken on these same tracks and I look forward to taking more in the coming year as each season will bring something (or someone) new. 

It's strange editing photos of myself but I'm so thankful to have these and cherish each one. I only wish we brought the tripod and got Andrew in some of these. Maybe next time!

Thanksgiving always precedes the miracle

 Today would have marked the start of a 3 month count down to baby Reyna. That count down has long disappeared, except privately in my heart and mind of course. Because, this is what you think about when you miscarry. At least I do. The love for that sweet child doesn't go away. 18, 20, 28 weeks, would be getting the nursery ready, etc... These are all thoughts that run through my mind. Yes, time helps, but sadness lingers. Finally erasing all of my old OB appointments from the calendar and deleting those oh-so-informative pregnancy apps helped. Though it was hard to do so, I imagine it somewhat similar to cleaning out the closet of a lost loved one- though I know that is far worse. Difficult, but so necessary, and a healing step to moving on. 

Distractions are good. Family visitors, vacations, filling time with work or outings. Isn't that what we do? We fill and fill our time. We try to forget. We try to ignore. We "fake it" till we make it. Because time moves onward. More time and more disappointment. For a while, distractions work. Then I'm left with the aching depths of my soul, the cries of my heart, and a Heavenly Father holding me close hearing every thought and lovingly responding, 'All is okay my daughter. I will give you patience, I will give you peace, I will give you stillness of heart. Trust in me. Lay your burdens and heavy heart on me.'

I am currently reading a book called, One Thousand Gifts.  Besides making me quite tearful (of course while on an airplane), this book has been challenging me to be thankful. "Thanksgiving always precedes the miracle" (Ann Voskamp).  Hours before Jesus died on the cross, what did he do? He gave Thanks to God. What?!?  He knew what was to come, the cruel death, the pain. And he still gave thanks. Yes, he most certainly did. He gave us this example in the worst of circumstances to pause and give thanks. He models giving thanks before taking the bread and wine, before eating each meal. He models this recurring time of re-focussing on God. The reoccurring re-centuring of the mind and heart. Thankfulness for the smallest of things. The tiniest of moments. It changes the way I look at the world. It changes the way I view my day to day. It slowly changes my heart and my often glass-half-empty mindset. 

Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. 1 Corinthians 5:18

Like the author of this book (Anne Voskamp), I have started making mental note of little thanks. Little gifts throughout the day. Little bits of grace. Go ahead, try it. The season for thankfulness is nearly upon us, right? Seems a fitting time to start working this into my day to day.

1. The bright golden sun turned burnt orange during my flight home.

2. The kind, just-because-I'm-thinking-about-you text from a sweet friend.

3. The sparkle of my engagement and wedding rings.

4. The refreshing sound of ice clinking in my white mocha.

5. The warmth of socks on my feet.

7. Walking hand in hand with my love, swinging our arms to the beat of the waves crashing beneath our feet.

8. City and Colour Pandora station- love.

9. Companionship of like-minded & like-hearted friends.

10. Forehead kisses and I love you's before bed.

11. Sand stuck between my toes.

12. Sun-born freckles on my face.

13. The little 'G' that circles my neck and wrist that makes me smile.

14. Daily picture texts of my darling nephew.

15. Silly hashtag-filled texts from my dad.

No thanks is too small. None.

I have much to be thankful for. So very much.

As fall encroaches upon us, I am filled with feelings of restoration. The crisp air offers hope. The changing leaves mark a new season's story that I pray will be filled with more joy and more thankfulness.

PS- You should read this book. Especially if you are holding on to a hurt, bitterness, sadness... 

Uncomfortable

 Polycistic Ovaries- this is what I have. Yes, I'm going to talk about it. 10% of women have this. It is apparently the leading cause of infertility. Polycistic ovaries prevent ovulation (only a tad bit important part of getting pregnant) and the cysts get there because of an overall hormonal imbalance.

It's a doozy. In women like myself, it's partially a mystery in the medical world. The majority of women with PCOS (polycistic ovarian syndrome) are overweight and have insulin resistance, along with an abundance of testosterone. This is not the case with myself. I simply have cysts covering my ovaries (literally covering) and a bit of a hormonal imbalance (minus the testosterone part). Many women with PCOS can get pregnant with healthy lifestyle changes. Again- not the case with myself. 

Dealing with infertility, let alone miscarrying was never something I envisioned having to handle. Does anyone? It came somewhat as a surprise to us. But, here we are, and we are handling it. 

I used to believe that God would never give me anything I couldn't handle. This statement is often quoted among believers (from the verse 1Corinthians 10:13). Now I see the flaw. I see that the Lord will indeed give you more than you can handle. He has given us "more than we can handle" on our own. That's the key. If he only gave us what we could handle on our own, we would never need Him. We would never grow or be challenged to fully lean and trust Him. Instead, the Lord has given us this hurdle, obstacle, quest- whatever you might call it- to grow and learn what it looks like to lean fully on Him. We were comfortable before this. We were all good. Yes, there was the stress of work, school, not seeing one another, etc. But, we were good. Looking back now, I see that we were not feeling challenged in our walk with the Lord. When comfortable, we take things for granted. When comfortable, we don't see the work of the Lord around us. We were comfortable. 

In this confusing time, this painful time, we are uncomfortable. We are challenged to make difficult decisions, challenged to lean and turn our eyes upon Jesus with each one. There are many routes one can take. Each with different paths. We are navigating those paths while continuing to live our daily lives and point others to Christ's light amidst our struggles. 

I am finding peace with our loss of Gabriel, but still very much grieving the whole infertility piece. It's a daily struggle, a monthly let down. It's expensive, it comes with many nasty side effects, it's just plain hard. It means asking for strength each hour of the day. It means asking for peace each minute of the day. It means surrendering my fears each second of the day. 

Much easier said than done.

By the grace of God, I get to work with women and babies each day. By the provision of God, I work where my passions lie. It's truly a blessing. While grieving the loss of our first baby and navigating our way through this dreaded infertility, it is also only by the grace and strength of God that I get through each day at work. There is much I remain thankful for. Mostly- my supportive, loving husband. He knows just how to calm my heart, my worries. Jenna, "there's no time limit on the love we have to offer our children... no matter when they come, it will be joy and blessings." Wise words. He's certainly a gift. No other man would I ever want to walk through this life with. I remain thankful for such supportive friends and family. They keep me going. Keep me encouraged. I feel their prayers and am forever grateful. 

I have hard days, very down days. Most recently nightmares...  Satan trying to grab hold of my heart and my mind. The devil will not succeed, he will not grab a foothold. Instead, I am challenged to abide in God. To acknowledge Him in all that I do. To seek his righteousness and the stillness only He can offer.

Psalm 23 still remains my heart's prayer. It still is what comforts me in the middle of the night- just as it did as a young child (Mom- thank you for teaching me this passage- do you remember us reciting it over and over again in the Philippines when I was 6 years old and scared?).

The Lord is my shepherd;
I shall not want.
² He makes me to lie down in green pastures;
He leads me beside the still waters.
³ He restores my soul;
He leads me in the paths of righteousness
For His name’s sake.

⁴ Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil;
For You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.

⁵ You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
You anoint my head with oil;
My cup runs over.
⁶ Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
All the days of my life;
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord
Forever.

Psalm 23

bits of light

It's been 6 weeks since finding out we miscarried.

In that time, I have found little bits of light and little positives- if you will. First of all, being open about becoming a member of the 'miscarrying club' has brought forth countless sweet conversations with other members of this awful club. Some old, some brand new. These have brought both heartache and encouragement. Some of these women were farther along, some less- but we each have one thing in common- we lost a precious little life so dear to our hearts and will forever hold a piece of our hearts for those lives.

The wildflower weeds that I so sadly ripped out from the front yard after my d&c bloomed. I suppose that I missed a few. Maybe on purpose- just to see what would happen. I know it's silly, but I planted handfuls of these seeds the day I found out I was pregnant. I sprinkled them with a beautiful picture in mind. A colorful flower bed- a welcoming refuge for butterflies; you get the picture. After 12 weeks, when nothing had bloomed and only weeds arose, I went to the yard and weeded away. I scraped and pulled. All I could think of was that the same exact thing had just occurred in my womb. But, alas, the remaining 'weeds' have bloomed. Just a few, but enough. All pinks, purples, and blues. One orange flower. Every time I see that one orange flower, I am refilled with hope. I think of Gabriel, and I am brought a small bit of peace.

Though apart, Andrew and I have grown in our prayer-life. When together, our evenings are filled with heartfelt cries to our Lord. We pray for each of our pregnant friends and their darling babies- we thank God for the weeks we had with our own baby and the desire to be parents that is buried deep in our hearts. Our prayer times provide a pathway to simultaneously and fully open our hearts to each other and to God. These moments are when my heart both smiles and cries most. In these moments, I see the fullness of Andrew's heart; and I am overwhelmed with thankfulness. In these moments, I feel the depth of God's love for me. Through Andrew's embrace, I feel God's comforting arms holding me tight. For this I am thankful.

I have learned that I am not in control. I am at the end of myself. I am broken. Being the planner that I am, this lesson is one I may have needed to learn and experience first hand for a very long time. 'We can make our plans, but the Lord determines our steps.' Prov 16:9. So true. Lord, determine my steps, guide us in this path. Grant us wisdom and patience. Give me strength as I surrender my plans...


Having this level of transparency brings vulnerability, it brings judgement. But, I know the Lord will deliver, his glory will outshine, his peace conquer, his love move mountains.

Stages

Each year of nursing school, we touched on the stages of grief. Five stages. Each one encompassing different behaviors and different feelings. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance.  In the past almost 4 weeks, I can see that I've felt most all stages- some more than others. I can also see how much healing has already taken place. I look back on the immediate days following our loss of little Gabriel and see the moments of denial. Focusing on what to do next; focusing on the D&C procedure and recovery that was approaching. It was all happening, but it almost felt like it was happening to someone else- not me, not us. I then see the tiny bouts of anger, especially when returning to work (I thankfully had a long stretch off before having to go back). Not only do I work with high risk moms & babies, but also with many new mothers who won't be taking their babies home with them due to DHS involvment and extreme social circumstances. That brings the anger. The woman who called her newborn an 'F** creature' brought anger. It brought sadness for these lives that are unwanted by their mothers. Anger that these women who seem to do everything 'wrong' have perfect term babies- drugs galore, etc.  I see many moments when I played the bargaining game- the what if game. What if I hadn't eaten this or that; what if I got more than 1 hour of sleep that day; what if I hadn't worked so many nights in a row, etc. Then came the depression. The deep deep, awful heart ache. The balling in the shower, the crying myself to sleep, the tears that exploded down my face the instant I left the main entrance at work each morning and the makeup I carried in my purse each day just in case I needed a touch up to cover up my red, splotchy face (too bad I'm not a cute crying person- jealous of all you adorable criers). The feeling of always being on the verge of tears and not being able to get my mind off of losing our sweet Gabriel. The lack of sleep... those were hard days. Yes, then there came moments of acceptance. More and more each day. Acceptance that this is a trial we can get through. Acceptance that my tummy is shrinking instead of getting larger. Acceptance that we won't have a newborn for a Christmas present this year. Acceptance that I no longer have a count down to maternity leave. Acceptance that all of this did indeed happen and that we are okay. Acceptance that this is all a part of God's plan for our family. 

Acceptance that losing Gabriel was a blessing in some way or another. Because, that's what God has done time and time again- given us blessings upon blessings.

Yes, we're getting through. I'm getting through.

Yes it happens to so many women, and I wish it were talked more about- because it brings deep, deep hurt and we can support each other through it. I read that after a good ultrasound at 8 weeks, there is 98% chance of carrying to term. It doesn't feel good to be in that 2%- at all.  Maybe it would be easier if I already had children, or if I didn't have infertility issues and weren't back at square one. But, maybe it would be just as hard. I not only grieve the loss of this child, but the potential future of this happening time and time again due to my health. I have fear though I know deep down that God is in control and fear does nothing but makes all worse. I still feel it.

So, this is where I'm at and where I've been... moving through these stages and feelings like the tide coming and going.

I blog about this because I know I'll look back someday and smile. I know I'll read these posts and still have heart ache for losing this baby, but will have an even deeper trust in the Lord- because of his provision.  Because he always provides. In some way or another, we will be parents. In some way or another I will have the joy and privilege of being a mother. But I still hurt and my heart deeply aches. I still get emotional. I still am tearful at random times.

In those tearful and sad moments, I have found immense comfort in God's word. In the midst of my emotional attacks- I recite Psalm 23 and am comforted. I lack nothing with Christ. He is my comfort and my shield. He leads me beside still waters. My cup runneth over...

First post written about our miscarriage
Baby Gabriel

*Thank you to you friends and family who have been unbelievably supportive and loving-we love you and are so blessed to be surrounded by you**

Gabriel

If you missed yesterday's post, read it here. All will make more sense... 

**Thank you for all of the love and kind comments we received yesterday via facebook, email, text, etc. Feeling very loved and encouraged. This is once again a post that was written several days ago.**

After the miscarriage, one of my good friends asked if we were planning to name our baby. I had thought about doing so previously, but it felt very strange- especially losing our baby so early in the pregnancy. The more I gave it thought, the more strange it felt for our little one not to have a real name. It made me sad to think about reuniting with our child in Heaven and not being able to call him/her by name. Maybe names don't matter in heaven, but I like to think that they do.

So, we decided to name our sweet baby, Gabriel; meaning 'God is my Strength'. In the bible, the Angel Gabriel brought news of child to the virgin Mary, and to barren Elizabeth. While this baby will always be our little angel baby, I believe that baby Gabriel gave us hope. Hope for future children. Hope for a family. Hope for future pregnancies in the midst of fertility difficulties. This was his/her gift. In God we will find strength. In God I will continue hoping and praying. Gabriel, thank you for giving us this gift. Thank you for bringing us 12 weeks of complete joy. Thank you for showing us just how deeply we desire to be parents. Just how badly our hearts long to love and adore a child. You will always be a part of the story of our family. You will always remain in my heart. Sweet Gabriel, some day in Heaven, I will hold you tightly and call you by name. I will embrace you as my first child and will thank you for bringing me such joy and hope. All our love sweet angel baby.