The One With the Thankfulness

So, I'm attempting to join the Weekly Thought linkup over at Crystal's blog every week. And I'm sorta in a funk today. So I'm not sure if my thought will be....well, thoughtful, but I guess we'll find out :)

I'm pretty much a mess. I am worried, angry, scared, tired, impatient, and every other emotion in the book. There were a lot of details I left out of my summary of our ultrasound appointment, and overall I'm becoming increasingly convinced that our tech not only was rude and gave up on us far too easily, she also neglected other important aspects of her job.

However, the MOST unhelpful thing I've heard in this situation is "You should have demanded another tech!!" or "I would have spoken with a manager!!! I wouldn't have walked out!" Um, thanks. When YOU have an ultrasound and your tech scares the crap of you and makes you think YOUR baby is dying, feel free to handle the situation "properly." Are they right? Absolutely. I have already placed a call to the manager of the lab we went to, and will be addressing the issues. No one wishes more than me that we had realized how wrong things were before we left. And no one wishes more than me that this would all be resolved before waiting 2 more weeks. But for real--I didn't know. I've never had a mid-pregnancy ultrasound. I knew things didn't feel right, but I didn't realize enough to speak to someone. Next time I will. People can stop telling me now.

Being convinced of our tech's mishandling of the situation is rather encouraging, in some ways, as it leads us to believe everything with the baby IS normal, and she simply did a poor job. The "what if" still feels very real, though. And I truly believe THAT is where all my emotion is coming from. I'm not trying to be overdramatic. I do realize that the chances are very good that my baby is healthy and normal and that in 22 weeks, I will get to meet Nugget and we will have a happy life.

But I'm not gonna lie--I'm tired. I'm tired of not having a happy, fun, exciting pregnancy like so many people I know. And I get angry about it. Yesterday, I finally put voice to my feelings and cried, "I just want ONE freaking part of this pregnancy to feel normal!" And I realized that my problem is different than the one I'm saying it is. I'm very worried for Nugget. It's a big part of my funk. But it's also that I'm a little bitter about the way this has gone, and that I can't fix it.

I peed on a stick, and cried. I was scared for the next few weeks. Like, I went to the bathroom every ten minutes. And I sat on the toilet a little longer, waiting for the miscarriage to start. When I actually DID start spotting, I completely melted, and spent 4 days certain we were going to lose our baby. I got excited, but always it was dampened by fear. I didn't just get normal pregnant sick, I got pregnant sick from hell. When everyone told me I'd feel "better than ever" once I hit 14 weeks, here I sit at 18 weeks, still occasionally puking, still exhausted, still not sleeping. When we got our first ultrasound picture at 6 weeks, we sat in the car and cried because we were still so scared of spreading the news. And now, what should have been one of, if not the MOST, exciting moment of our pregnancy (excluding the actual birth!) was ruined. And I'm tired of it. I want to pee on a stick and run around and tell everyone and be happy and excited, I want to feel great and amazing, and I want to be looking of pictures of my little gender-known Nugget and dreaming of the future.

And now I realize...that's not ok. This situation isn't mine to control. And I am commanded to be thankful. I am not commanded to be thankful because everything went like I planned, or like I wanted. I am not commanded to be thankful because God did things my way instead of his way. I am not commanded to be thankful because of my circumstances; I am simply required to be thankful for ALL THINGS. And tonight, I have much to be thankful for. For now, I have a Nugget kicking around inside of me, and each little movement is a reminder that for now, my baby thrives. I have a husband who has been amazing through this entire situation; has handled meltdowns; helped me through this; been my constant support and laughter; made me smile; and loved our little baby as much as I do. I have an amazing family, friends, coworkers...I am so amazingly blessed. And tonight, I am thinking on these things. Not the things that could have been, or would have been, or things that I want to be different. I am simply thankful for what is. And I am thankful that I have been chosen to carry this life. Every moment.

The One With the Baby I Miss

I'm back from an AMAZING vacation. I was perfect. A delightful combination of time with friends, and time with hubby, plus a little beach and a little city. Loved it. Sometime soon, I shall give some fun details, maybe even pictures, of the wonderfulness we had in Florida. But for today, I'm a bit pensive. I've been thinking lots about our first little baby.

I dunno, it's weird. Sometimes when I am counting Nugget's weeks and excitedly telling everyone how big he is, or what new milestones he's learning (last week, Nugget got facial expressions and begins to pee. Nice, Nugget.) But sometimes I can't help skipping ahead to see how big Baby Ward would be now; what I'd be experiencing. For some reason in my mind, Baby Ward is ALWAYS a boy. And I wonder what color hair he would have had, and if he would have been tall or short. I kind of thought that once I got pregnant again, these thoughts would subside, because now I can wonder all those same questions about a baby it looks as though I likely WILL meet. But the two are very, very separate in my mind. Getting pregnant again HAS made it much, much easier and I am so blessed to have been given this gift so soon. But...the pain of the miscarriage is still there. More than I would have expected, sometimes. It's very weird to think there was a little person that Geoff and I made, and we (on this side of eternity) will never know anything about.

One cool thing, though, was pointed out to me a few months ago by one of my blog readers (Thanks, Meredith :)) and has provided me with much encouragement. Nugget is a child created only because of the miscarriage. If we had Baby Ward, then this little person that I can't wait to meet would never exist. And I'm so excited to see this little personality come alive; to see if he will have my frizzy hair or Geoff's freckles...and all the while knowing this little one we get to meet would never have been possible without the pain we experienced first. Sometimes it's very difficult for me to look at this pregnancy with the same excitement that I know other first time pregnancy mom's are having. I still get super nervous, even though things are going great. In a few weeks at our sonogram, I already know I'm going to be freaking out. And yeah, there's no point in worrying. It doesn't change anything. Plus, things are (statistically speaking) most likely going to go wonderfully. And we definitely trust God with this baby, as we did with our first. There are just still days when it hurts, and days when I am still sad. Sometimes I wonder if I'm being overdramatic--plenty of people have miscarriages...plenty of people have had several! But then I come back to the fact that the world is broken, and that it's ok to be sad about brokenness, and death and pain. As long as there is hope...which there is, in abundance. It's just a strange journey to travel.

Anyways, I'm off to enjoy my last 2 days of vacation. Happy Saturday :)

The One With The Weirdness

I have no idea if any of my thoughts and feelings thus far this pregnancy are normal or not. I'm sure at least some of them are. But in any case, here's our journey through the past month or so.

After my miscarriage, we knew we wanted to get pregnant again quickly. Timing, finances, everything aside, losing the baby made us parents, and wanting to continue that. I went for my followup appointment and my doctor said because everything was progressing so well physically, we could begin "trying" again as soon as we wanted. I knew the cycle after a miscarriage could be iffy, so I didn't get my hopes up for being pregnant right away...well. I tried not to get my hopes up. Then, toward the end of April, I began to feel a little...weird. I kept thinking it was signs of pregnancy and at one point was SURE I was pregnant. Then, a few days later, nothing. So, I prepared myself to just focus on the coming months. Then, Saturday night, April 25, I took a pregnancy test. Not gonna lie, I'd already taken one 2 days prior which was negative, and Geoff and I had discussed not taking anymore. Plus, I knew I'd still be early and that night was the worst time to take the test. However, about 2 minutes later.....there was a faint 2nd line. I immediately ran and showed Geoff, and because it was so faint, we both pretty much just went to bed not really processing it. Sunday morning, though, brought more lines and more confirmation--I'm Pregnant. And that's where things got weird.

There was no ecstatic jumping up and down; no celebratory dinners. Were we thrilled? Yes. We prayed and prayed for another pregnancy; this was something we desperately wanted. However, we were very unprepared for the fear that we faced. I literally went through the enst 2 weeks certain I was going to lose it. I was able to hope a little, but mostly just was waiting for it to happen. Geoff was much the same. All our conversations were "So...if we actually do get to have this one..." Never once did we allow ourselves to believe that we could meet this one. I don't think this is because we didn't have faith or trust or whatever, I simply think it's because we were scared to face the pain again.

Nearly 4 weeks later, I am still very scared. Luckily, we've seen our baby, we know the heart is beating, my hormone levels are great--all signs, so far, are pointing toward a healthy pregnancy. I'm still finding it hard to really embrace the joy of this time, but I'm trying to start a little bit each day. 

Thanks to everyone who has prayed for us--please, if you think of it, pray for us, and Nugget, and for the strength to face whatever comes our way. This is a wonderful time for us...and I plan on beginning to enjoy it more.

The One With Not So Much Handling It

Since I've blogged so much about my experience so far, and most of it has been handled really positively by both me and Geoff, I feel it only fair to post in the times when I'm not handling it so well. Not because I feel as though I owe it to my readers, since I do feel this sort of grief is very acceptably handled privately, but more because I feel like if I don't, I haven't been honest about the road that I'm walking. Facing it this way is a good way for me to able to look back and see the truth of my emotions in this and not just the easy times of it.

I'm terribly, terribly sad today. It actually started last night after the Good Friday service, and my poor husband had to watch me sob myself to sleep. In grief, there's so many different stages. I feel I've successfully passed through stage where I know my baby is gone. However, the permanence of that is still hitting me. I understand the pain of, there is no baby right now. The thought of the spring...summer...fall...and winter, when he would have been due....that keeps hitting me in little ways. I'm NOT pregnant. This baby isn't going to be here in November, he won't have a birthday, he won't go off to school. The pain of the future is becoming a little more real to me. I miss being pregnant, and I miss the little baby I won't get to meet.

That's all I have for today. God is still good. Still in control. He's convinced me of that, strongly enough that even on days like today, I still know it's true. And as I was so wonderfully reminded last night, I am NOT God. I would make a terrible, terrible God and I rest in the true God alone for my strength in the midst of the darkness. I'm tremendously thankful for the people he's placed on this road with me to love me and push me along through the bad days.

The One With All the Redemption

A few years ago, I went through a pretty difficult time. During that, there were few people I allowed close enough to give me any sort of helpful words or prayers or anything. The ones that did get through, however, were incredible. I remember reading an e-mail from my friend Bethany and at the end, she said that she was looking forward to seeing the person that emerged from this; seeing the ways that God would grow me and change me, and that she trusted that God loved me too much to waste my pain. At that point in time, I was pretty convinced that God didn't love me that much at all, and that every moment of pain was indeed wasted, so I don't recall being especially touched by those words.

Flash forward.

I was rethinking these words this week, and how powerful the love of God truly is. I was thinking about the fact that we experience pain, loss, death, grief...so many broken dreams, broken relationships. What's the point? Why? 

I don't think we'll ever understand the answers to those questions, this side of eternity. I don't think we're meant to understand the mind and ways of a God is infinitely higher than ours. I think he provides us with glimpses of his character, however, and THAT is what pulls us through. The thing that has encouraged me most in the past week and half is this simple truth: my God loves redemption.

I believe that God, at any moment, could step in and right the path of destruction we see around us. He could cure the disease, heal the sick, raise the dead. Any of it; all of it. But he doesn't. He allows us to experience heartache and the harrowing effects of our own personal sin. But I believe that goodness is coming. I don't believe that all of this will come on this side of heaven. Much of the true goodness and true redemption that is to come we must wait for. But I know that every tear will be redeemed.

And that makes it easier to experience the hard times. It's painful yes--but the true pain comes in not knowing if there will be an end. If there's really a point to it. But if God loves redemption more than our pain, we have nothing to fear. That doesn't make it easier, and it doesn't make it hurt less. But it makes it worth it. It makes us able to hold on, for just a second longer...and then another second...for however many seconds it takes for Him to redeem the pain. WE have already been redeemed. How, then, can we think our heartache would not be?

I was already thinking through many of these thoughts, and processing through what it really means to give over my heartache. Then, I went over to one of my favorite blogs (audreycaroline.blogspot.com) and found this song. It is amazing. It also was posted by a woman who today is celebrating/mourning the death of her baby who was born, and died, on this day last year. The faith I see in people around me astounds me. Again, not because they are faithful. But because HE is faithful.

the cruelest word, the coldest heart

the deepest wound, the endless dark

the lonely ache, the burning tears

the bitter night, the wasted years

life breaks and falls apart

but we know these are places

where grace is soon to be so amazing

they may be unfulfilled

they may unrestored

but when anything that's shattered

is laid before the Lord

just watch and see--

it will not be unredeemed

what amazing hope. in the midst of all of the trials of life, there is grace. grace for the moments now, and a grace beyond anything we can imagine. 

The One With All the Faith

In one of the best experiences of my life, Hubby and I went with my parents to the Steven Curtis Chapman/Michael W. Smith United Tour. We actually were supposed to go to this concert back in October, but there was a  mixup with getting the tickets, and so we missed it. I'm now so very, very thankful that we did, because this was a much more opportune time for me to be in the presence of God in such an amazing way.

You can hear all sorts of people talk about the goodness of God. You can sit in church and learn about his grace, mercy, sovereignty, and love. You can know all the verses, all the lyrics and have everything wrapped up in the neat little boxes of "Christianity." But then, you can hear it from a man who less than a year past burying his 5 year old daughter, who not only has had to wrestle with God and what his goodness really means, but who has chosen to do so in the eyes of countless other believers. I was so blessed. I knew as we walked in the doors to the sound of him leading the audience in "Blessed Be" that this concert would be like any other I had attended. As we lifted our voices to sing "You give and take away/You give and take away/My heart will choose to say/Lord, blessed be your name" I felt the tears streaming down my face as I reflected on my own loss, and my own glimpses of God's grace in the past 6 days. There were so many moments where he gave us a glimpse of his brokenness, a peak into the pain he has experienced in the past 10 months. But deeper than that was an incredible hope and faith; a certainty that won over confusion and emptiness. My favorite song of the evening was "Yours." It's an amazing song to begin with, one he recorded before Maria died. After she went to heaven, he was processing through some of his grief and realized that he hadn't completed his song. The fourth verse, now added on the re-released version goes like this: "I've walked the valley of Death's shadow/So deep and dark I could barely breathe/I've had to let go of more than I can bear/And questioned everything that I believe/but still even here/in this great darkness/a comfort and hope come breaking through/and I can say in life or death/God, we belong to you/It's all yours, God." To be able to write those words so soon after such a tragedy is astounding to me. And while I appreciate his faith and openness, I also know that ALL of the glory of his story belongs to God. There is nothing about him that makes him able to speak those words--it is ALL by the grace of God.

I can say that firmly because I know that every moment of happiness and peace and even laughter that I've experienced this week (and there have been MANY!) have been nothing to do with my strong faith, or my wonderful handling of this situation--but have been the direct result of God's grace. I am in awe that he has protected my heart so well from anger and confusion; that he has given me the strength to handle each day of this. It is 100% for the glory of God and 0% anything I've done. I'm not typically a great handler of tough times--just ask anyone who talked to me the year after my cousin died. I'm a dweller, a despair-er, a wallower. God, and God alone, has lifted me from this pit and is keeping me from the valley this time. I do not know why. But I am so incredibly thankful. I owe much to all of you as well--you have loved my husband and I tremendously well. We have had wonderful week, growing together and being blessed. 

Thank you, from the bottom of our hearts :)

The One With Handling It

It's been a long few days for us, and I'd like to thank everyone for their kind words. Each facebook wall posting, message, chat, text message, voicemail and visit has been cherished. I have gotten more hugs in the past 3 days than I have in the past month...and I love me some hugs.

We, overall, are handling our loss quite well. What I mean by that is that I am not struggling with believing lies or giving into asking questions I should not be asking. I do not think that this was my fault, or that there was anything I could do to change it. I'm not scared that this is some sign I am incapable of carrying children. I believe that these things happen, that they are outside of our control, and that this side of heaven I will never understand why I will not hold the child I was growing. I'm not going to try. One of my favorite lines from a MercyMe song is a line in "Homesick" where he says, "Help me, Lord, cuz I don't understand your ways/And the reasons why, I wonder if I'll ever know/But even if you showed me, the hurt would be the same." And I think that's a very profound point. Understanding why would not help me miss my baby any less. The sadness is coming from a loss, and I believe I am supposed to mourn that loss. I am not supposed to wallow, or sink into depression, or give into anger, despair, or any of that--but mourn, yes. I don't need to understand why this happened. I need to understand that my baby is with Jesus, and that I have completed the job I was called to do.

Geoff is doing well, too. He has been a wonderful support for me. It's funny, because SO many women say they deal with this on their own because they physical aspect of it adds so much more to deal with. In some ways, I agree. But I also think that because it happened so early in my pregnancy, we are dealing with some of the same emotions. What I mean is that, because I was so early (and I don't know if what I'm about to say is completely normal or not) I bonded much more with the IDEA of my child than actually physically WITH my child. I mean, yes, my body began to change, and I was aware of what was happening, but I wouldn't say I really felt like I bonded with the physical part of things. So I think both of us are extremely broken over the idea of losing our child, and he can grasp that just as well as me.

The harder part about dealing with the physical part of things for me is that it's such a continuing process. Without going into way too much detail that no one needs or wants to know, my biggest prayer right now is simply for the bleeding to stop. It's very hard to accept the "loss" when it's more of an ongoing "losing." I feel as though I will be able to more effectively move on and become actively involved in life again when that side of things is complete. I have a doctors appointment tomorrow to see how everything is going and making sure everything is ok. I'm very thankful that this appointment worked out at a time where Geoff will be able to come with me.

I do feel as though we're handling it well in the sense that we firmly believe God's graciousness and goodness are not absent from us and our current situation. This does not mean we are ok. Our hearts are hurting and broken, and there are many, many tears that have been shed and will continue to pour out. We miss our baby, and the excitement all the planning and talking of being parents was bringing us. Our days are long, and my nights have been longer. I have had a lot of trouble sleeping, and I'm very tired.

But again, God is good. Above all, he is working for HIS glory, not mine. Some have asked if we regret telling so many people--Absolutely not. I'm very proud and feel blessed to have carried that life for as long as I got to, and I'm thankful for everyone who shared our joy. And now we have just as many people to share our sorrow. That is what the body of Christ is for! Is it going to be hard to answer the question, "How's the baby?" Sure. Does that pain negate the sheer joy we felt for 11 days that we got to be his parents? Not at all. 

Thank you for your continued prayers. Our pain is sharp at times, and our trust in God does not diminish our sadness. We are fully confident that His glory is already being revealed in this situation, and while this is not what I would have chosen for myself, I am trusting that he will give me exactly the strength I need to get through each moment. I love you all.

The One With the Longest Day of My Life.

Baby Ward is no longer being grown in me. Now, he's being grown in heaven. It has been a long, and tremendously sad day.

Perhaps I should be sleeping. But I want to remember the details of the day as they happened. And I know many of those that love us will want to hear the story as well. Sorry if there's too much info about anything. But it's my blog...it's how I roll.

Yesterday, I had some mild cramping in the afternoon. I didn't worry too much about it, and decided just to relax, drink some tea, and take it easy for the evening. I began to feel better and didn't think anything else of it. This morning I woke up feeling pretty horrible, and was thinking this must be the day I began feeling morning sickness (until this point, I'd had no symptoms other than extreme exhaustion.) I went in for my shift at work, but was convinced by my dear friend and assistant Tim that I should go back home, rest for a little bit, and come back in the afternoon to finish out my shift. We debated for awhile (I didn't want to be a wuss) but I finally agreed and came home. I decided to try and get some food in my system, as I also needed to take my pre-natal vitamin and knew it might make me more nauseous. I cooked some eggs, and then went to use the bathroom before I sat down with my plate. I sat on the toilet, looked at my underwear and saw a big, bright red circle. Instant sobbing. I called my mom and asked her to pick me up; she immediately hung up the phone and hopped in the car. I then called my husband, who was in Lynchburg, VA and told him what was going on and asked him to come home right away. He too, hopped in his car and began the trip. I also called my dear friend Joy, who has been through this experience and was able to calm me down a little bit. Then my mom arrived, and the longest 4 hours of my life began.

As I was still not sure I was miscarrying (there was nothing so far that convinced me. just things that scared me) the ER was the place to go. However, they were having a bit of an...unprofessional day it seemed. Every step of the way took FOREVER and they didn't properly pass my charts around, so every single person I saw (which totaled 7) had to ask my name and "Why are you here?" Super fun question to answer. The lady who did my ultrasound was a nutcase. She barely spoke English, and asked me if I was pregnant. (If you don't know that, stop touching me and find someone who's at least GLANCED at my chart.) Also, in the middle of the transvaginal sonogram (ps. NOT comfortable) someone busted in while I was spread eagle. Most embarrassing thing ever. People need to knock. Always. End of story. 

(Luckily, my mom stayed by my side every step of the way today. I can't explain how thankful I am for that.)

About an hour into this experience, I went to the bathroom and knew for sure that I had miscarried, as much more evidence greeted me in the toilet. However, once you start, you can't very well diagnose yourself and leave, so you're stuck in the twilight zone of complete stupidity. I FINALLY was diagnosed with a miscarriage and got to leave. It's a very weird feeling. They tell you that you "had" a miscarriage. I called people to tell them I "lost" the baby. All this makes it sound so...past tense. It's not. I'm still bleeding as I type this. It's a pretty horrible feeling, because it's like it's happening again every time I go to the bathroom. I want it to be over.

Physically, the pain is not nearly what it could be. I was only about 6 weeks, thus my body is having a relatively easy time of doing everything it needs to. I'm still cramping, but it's nothing worse than period cramps. I'm tired and have a headache, but that's more due to all he crying I've done. Strictly physically speaking, I'm very blessed that things are going the way they are.

Emotionally, we're having a rough time of it, but holding up. I was extremely glad to get a visit from my friend Joy and even more happy to finally see my sweet, sweet husband. This sounds horrible, but I'm going to say it anyway. Geoff is very, very sad about this and it's making it much easier for me. I know many women who have said they feel lonely because their husbands don't "get" what a terrible loss it is. Geoff is grasping the pain of all of this and basically handling it as badly as me. (Not that we're doing horribly. Just that he is feeling the same pain.) As hard as it is to see him hurting so much, it's also a comfort to have his sweet tears mixing with mine instead of crying alone. I know he would comfort me either way, but to share it together is so much better.

Those who know me know that I do NOT spout off happy, Christian, bible-college things to say unless I firmly believe them. There have been times in my life when I have been so bold as to admit that I lacked the belief that God was good, or in control; times when I've openly questioned his sovereignty. If I did not believe this to the depths of my being, I would NOT say it: God is good. God is deeply good, and he has us in the palm of his hand. This world is broken. Our bodies are broken. Our lives are broken. I do not believe God "took" our baby. I believe God is mourning our loss, because this is not how life and pregnancy were intended to go. This is brokenness being displayed. I believe that God allowed us this pain, that he is above our pain, and that he is in control of every aspect of our lives. I believe that our sweet baby is now with him, and that we were his parents exactly as long as we were meant to be. 

My heart is deeply broken tonight as I type these words. I thought that I was out of tears--I was wrong. But I'm so thankful for God's grace and mercy, which will be new again in the morning, and are covering us tonight. I'm thankful for the amazing man I have been blessed to walk this road with. I will be leaning on his strength more than ever. He has been my joy, my laughter, my rock. I will need him more, and I know I can trust him to hold me. I'm so thankful for the body of Christ, which has reached out and covered us today. Our familes, friends, loved ones...each word has touched our hearts. We love you all, and are thankful for the love you've shown us. Thank you for your continued support, encouragement and prayers. Many have asked for tangible ways to help--honestly, I have no answer for you. Prayers and love are enough right now. We'll get through it. It's a long road to walk. But we will walk it with grace and strength. 

We remain,

Mommy and Daddy of Baby Ward :)