Imagination vs Faith During the Holidays

The thought of Christmas coming up and the assuredness I felt about NOT doing Santa, followed up by the dentist giving me a letter to the "tooth fairy" as essentially an excuse for not having the teeth that he had gotten pulled that day at home with him, because they were much too "sick" to be picked up at home....well it all left me feeling a little discombobulated. It left me questioning if we were making him miss out on something so fun, and where the boundaries were for these make-believe icons.

I am writing this more for me to get my thoughts out, so bare with me. My thoughts on why not to do Santa are really quite simple. My mom was AWESOME at doing Santa. I really had no clue that he wasn't a real person until I was much older than most other kids. I remember the devastation that not only did the magic of Christmas not really exist in Santa, but also the tooth fairy and Easter bunny we fake. I felt lied to. Completely let down. Betrayed. I know it may sound silly to some people, but it really changed the way that I saw holidays. Growing up I did not believe in Jesus, or really know much about Him at all. What if I had? How can you explain to a little girl that is wrapped up and has complete and utter faith in you telling her that these fictional creatures are real, that you lied to her about them....but Jesus is the real deal?

Can you imagine the questioning that would have came about with my faith, if I had believed then? It makes my heart ache to just imagine. Is that what Jesus would want for our son?

I want Matthew to believe in miracles. Not magical beings.
I want Matthew to know that you should always choose the right thing, not just during the month of December.
I want Matthew to know that Jesus loves him unconditionally, and he doesn't reward pending on a "Naughty or Nice" list.
That we work for the things we have, a jolly old fat man doesn't make nice things for us in the North Pole....in spite of the fact that sometimes I wish it really did work that way.
I want him to be thankful and not feel entitled for whatever he gets. (Maybe that should be on another post...)
I want Matthew to know that Christmas is the celebration about Jesus's birthday, and that gifts to each other during this time are WONDERFUL and FUN but not what the season is about.

On the flip side, what do the holidays, or events like losing a tooth look like for a family that doesn't step into these traditions of fairy tales that society participates in? Do we lose the magic? Not setting out cookies and milk for Santa? Not getting excited for a quarter (or a dollar) due to losing a tooth? Not believing in the Easter Bunny bringing you baskets and hiding your eggs for a hunt? And how do we teach him delicately to not dash the dreams and beliefs of other children whose parents have allowed these beliefs? Do you see where I feel I am sitting? Right between a rock and a hard place. My heart feels grieved that we have to look at things like this. I almost wish some days I didn't feel that gentle pull (or hard tug) at my heart from God leading me in a different direction than mainstream...because mainstream is easier. But I have to make sure I am following God's will for our family, and not society's perception of how things should happen.

James says we have time, not to worry, because Matthew won't understand for quite some time. But there is this ache and this hunger to try to figure out the best way to honor God in the midst of all of this. I cannot judge and say that your way is wrong if you choose to believe in the magic of Santa at Christmas. Because I do believe there is a place for Santa. He is a fun idea, and an excellent conversation piece in my opinion. Children should be able to make-believe and have an imagination. I love holiday movies like The Santa Clause with Tim Allen (Classic), Elf, The Polar Express, and Rudolf. I look forward to watching them every year. Yet, I do have to say, I am MORE excited for Matthew to officially open the book "God Gave Us Christmas" and start a tradition of reading it to him every holiday season. It does an awesome job explaining that God gave us Christmas and is much easier to find than Santa. So there is a place for Santa..., just in what capacity of a role will he play? A leading role? Or a minor one. Someone that has a lead solo, or simply someone that sings in the chorus?

I do think it would be fun and I hope to one day play Santa for a needy family, having Matthew go shopping with us to pick out toys, dropping them off without them knowing who did it, showing them the love of Christ in the Christmas season with presents, food, and a letter of God's love for them....but this wouldn't lose it's fun after December was over. People are needy year round! And Joy isn't only present in December.

One thing is for certain, Santa will not be the reason for the season in our house hold. The reason for the season lies in Jesus Christ. A little babe that was born in a manger, fulfilling a huge story that began long ago by God, who was born so that later he could die to save us all from the sins of this life. And of God, who loved us all so much, that he allowed his one and only son to suffer in spite of his innocence. Just so we could have the ability to have a bridge allowing us to cross the gap to spending eternity in heaven with them, without strict regulations and legalism that had to be followed, as long as we accepted and confessed we believed in Him.

Faith will lead Matthew through his life time. The child-like beliefs of these fantasy items are not worth the questioning of Jesus in my opinion. Am I willing to chance the outcome and impact on his faith to enjoy the seemingly innocent, short years that he would believe full-heartedly in a magical man, or bunny, or fairy...? *Sigh*

Parenting choices are hard sometimes friends.

Late Night Ramblings

"When I speak up, I feel no better; if I say nothing, that doesn't help either. I feel worn down."

Job 16:6-7

"Lord, sustain me as you promised, that I may live (and the babies that you bless us with!)! 

Do not let my hope be crushed.

Psalms 119:116 NLT (emphasis added)

This Sunday my soul yearned to go to church to find my little place at Jesus' feet and worship him with fellow believers. Pour out my heart with songs of praise flowing from my lips. I just wanted to be with Jesus, at church. Outside of the house, with full intention to find healing for my heart.

Matthew didn't have his listening ears on. We were running late, James was exhausted from the emotions of the week, the hours he has been working, and his early morning attempt to go hunting....he was sleeping. The frustration built up in me as I was feeling like a crazy lady trying to get myself and this little squishy boy that is normally cute, but exceedingly more irritating in that present moment...yelling, "I running! I running!" as he slips out the door that I opened to let the dogs out, in his socks, across the wet yard.

It was that moment that curse words may have slipped from my mouth and asked myself, seriously, what is the point? We were going to be late. The frustration almost didn't seem worth it. And we could just go inside and watch whatever movie of Matthew's choice while I got housework done. It would make it seem more productive at least.

The point was that I needed to attend church. I know that may sound silly to some. But my soul yearned for it. I haven't yearned like that to go to church in a long time. In my brokenness it seems I always know who it is that I need to run to. (I wish that was the same for all of the good days)

James and I had been talking Saturday about this loss and how essentially he hates the pain that each loss causes. The emotional strife that it places on both of us, while we are forced to go forward with our usual day to day lives. We talked about choices that we could make for testing, and where we go from here. There is a lot of pressure that I feel to lose weight and get more healthy, so much of our infertility is carried by me that I just feel worn out some days. Because I am the infertile one...yes we are an infertile couple...but it is my stupid body that causes all of the issues that we have, and I am also the one that carries the biggest heart wanting to carry babies because the experience is so amazing. To me, all of this pain and heartache is worth the moment when we are able to experience another healthy pregnancy. I believe in my heart that God will bless us at least one more time. Maybe just one more time, but it will happen. I just don't know how many more losses God is going to allow us to wade through before he lets us out of this waiting room with a doctor that comes out with joy shinning from the face instead of sorrow to tell us bad news, once again.

Pregnancy is not a promise for a baby. Just as grief is not a cookie cutter experience for all. And joy isn't only found where rainbows and butterflies roam. Pregnancy is a miracle, a blessing, no matter how short of the life. Grief and Joy both have this amazing little dance in my life. Joy for Matthew, Grief over losing another one of his siblings. Joy over knowing this last little one was a girl, grief over wondering what she looks like, what her laugh would sound like... It's a daily dance my friends. It will get better, easier some days, but the grief never goes away. It isn't always a wailing thunderstorm trying to drown out the sun, eventually it turns into a little cloud in front of the sun, or a white little butterfly fluttering by on a beautiful breezy summer day.

My heart is all sorts of achy and sad. Most of the waterworks seem to spill out at night, after Matthew has fallen asleep and I look over at James sleeping peacefully. My two favorite men in this entire world. I think about how blessed I am to have them in my life, and how I wish I could give them so much more. Thoughts about our lost babies echo in my head, memories of heartaches past, years of tracking my cycle, loss after loss, after loss. The excitement I had after seeing a positive test this time when I found the Big Brother shirt I purchased in 3T the first time I found out I was pregnant this year, because surely if that pregnancy didn't end up a happy ending...one would by the time he was in a 3T. (He wears 3T shirts most days now). I think about all the work I have to do to lose weight, and how much I have been drowning my emotions in food and unhealthy crap. Of ways to approach my doctor to have her do the labs that I wish for. Ways for God to have his glory shown in the crappy situations we find ourselves in at the moment.

Because God is good, all of the time. I never Even if I sometimes doubt question it in the midst of the struggles of this life. He is enough. He is enough, even if we never have another healthy thriving pregnancy. He is enough in my brokenheartedness. He is enough in the darkness of night when sadness invades. He is enough. He is able to heal my heart, to turn my mourning into dancing. He will make something beautiful out of this pain. He hears our prayers and cries. He doesn't turn a deaf ear to me in the middle of the night, when tears start to wet my pillow. He is enough. He holds, at the same time, my babies in heaven, and the babies he has yet to bless us with. He is Alpha, Omega, Beginning, and End. He knows no time constraints. He is omnipresent and omnipotent. He knows the plans he has for me, for US as a family. He knows the hearts that will be added to our little family. He knows what it will take to have the family he has created and planned for us.

He is enough for my dreams, even when they seem daunting to most. He is enough.

So for now, I will cling to my dreams and promises that I have heard Him whisper to my heart and ignore the nay-sayers. I will once again start praying for a clear path for how and when our family is to grow. I will fervently and audaciously pray for another healthy pregnancy, while praying that God is kind and guards the hearts of our future children that will come our way through foster care. That he will bless them with resilient hearts, mind, and bodies. That they will choose Joy in the midst of hard times, and grow to love Jesus. That our family will show them love and safety as they have never known. And that God will heal their hearts and minds from whatever was in their pasts to bring them to us via the foster system. I will continue to pray for the opportunity to come to us to adopt internationally. I will continue to pray that our family will be the family that God wishes for us to be, and that it matches up with the desires of my heart.

I think that is enough rambling for tonight, my eyes are getting droopy, and the tears have subsided. I feel at peace. God is good. He is all that He has promised. And I can definitely find Joy in the midst of this suffering my heart is going through.

I Will Carry You

"It was good therapy for me to sit on my bed in silence and pour my heart out to the keyboard. I didn’t have to see the look in people’s eyes or watch them uncomfortably search for the right words when we both knew there just weren’t any."
Angie Smith -  I Will Carry You

I decided it was time for me to read this book with my heart achy from loss I figured the tears were going to fall anyways so I might as well help them to fall. I am only three chapters in and it has been administering to my soul.

Reminding me of the years of blogging my heart out in pain and agony as we tried for a little one of our own. Blogging because people face to face were sick of hearing our journey. Uncomfortable to see our pain.  Annoyed with bitter statements.  I was tired of the looks they would unknowingly give. I started to hear statements about if we one day had children of our own.

Guarding my heart from potential hurts, and getting much needed emotions off my chest,  I blogged to women I didn't know "in real life" who knew too well the path I was walking.  They became good friends. They became my sounding board. Numbers were exchanged. With many texts sent. One  friend even sent me a gift when we finally had Matthew.

I have been blessed by this journey of brokenness. Even though some days I feel like it is a curse. Because of it,  I am not afraid of uncomfortable conversations when others are in pain. I can minister to women the way many cannot.  I know the pain of infertility and loss and when taking to others when I say I understand,  I really do because I have walked the path feeling disheartened and wondering if my hope was really false hope.

The good thing is "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever." Hebrews 13:8 NLT He is the same Jesus as when I first discovered him. When I first fell in love with Him. The same Jesus present when James and I got married. When both of us were born.  The same Jesus the day we lost our first little one. The same as when we were diagnosed with infertility. The same Jesus as when we found out we were expecting Matthew. And the same Jesus as we said goodbye to Julianna. 

Jesus is the same in our joy. In our trials. In our brokenhearted moments. He is the same in our celebrations and our grieving. He carries me through. Just as I carry the short lives of our babies in my heart.

To my little ones, I will carry you in my heart. Until I meet you in heaven and can finally carry you in my arms.

Julianna Grace.

My heart broke a little bit more this month. This past Sunday night (11/30) I took a pregnancy test after a week of heartburn, knowing my period was due soon, and unexplainable exhaustion. Even without  holding my urine long it came up positive.

Tuesday I went for my first beta. 47. I already knew it was going to be a loss by that first number but before I got the results I let my hopes soar. I created two announcements to print after good labs to have a cute way to tell James and after our first ultrasound to be able to take photos with and put in Christmas cards.

I didn't guard my heart. I got excited. I prayed to see those tiny little fingers and toes. For Matthew to be a big brother. Hope soared.

And then crashed down. Next beta was 45.something and progesterone was 11. Yesterday's beta was 11.5 So tomorrow will be my last. I called in this weekend expecting with the horrible cramps I had that miscarriage #11 would start quick and fast. Wrong seems 40 days are the lengths of my miscarriages since having Matthew.

In the meantime between second and third beta I prayed hard and gave it to God for his will to be done. Grieving the loss of another nameless baby, something that has been daunting to me...8 babies of ours without names? It doesn't seem right.... Anyways, I prayed for tiny fingers and toes I will not get to see and hold. When goose bumps ran over me and I heard Julianna Grace. I thought to myself, what? And said the name out loud and once more was overcome by goosebumps and just the knowledge that God was speaking to me. We have a daughter that is with Jesus. And her name is Julianna Grace.

I don't know how to feel any more. Blessed because of the miracle of Matthew but hurting because this sucks. Only allowing myself to cry when others aren't around because I hate the pity I see in their eyes. The questions of why we keep trying. And those that brush it off, and don't ask if I am okay. My heart aches. But is healing, when I remember God's promise to me in the basement last Christmas season "I have done it once, I can do it again."

My plan? Start progessence plus by young living, a supplement/herb my friend recommended, and get immunology testing. I want to talk to my Dr about taking lovenox sooner after ovulation. I need to get serious about losing weight. I simply do not believe there is not another reason for every loss these past 2 years to be within 2 days of the same bench mark of pregnancy. There has to be something else at play in my crazy body.

To my little Julianna Grace -- I cannot wait to see your face my precious little baby. So thankful Jesus knew your name to tell me. It blessed my heart and brought a huge smile to my face as tears streamed down. I cannot wait to hold you and look into your eyes. I love you. Say hello to your big brother and sisters for me. Let them know how much I miss them and how treasured they truly are. Until we meet I will carry you in my heart.

Blessed.

Today I was blessed to speak at MOPS about our journey and testimony through infertility, loss, and Matthew. It made me reflect and brought me back to the trenches of those two years. The moments of bitterness, heartache, and hope all flooded back to me through my old blog entries and memories that washed up in the tides of emotion. It made me think of those that prayed with us and for us, clinging to hope and God's goodness. It reminded me of a couple that sent us flowers once. And of the many women that I met along the way that helped me to feel less crazy and less alone.

During those two years I wondered if I was crazy for hoping and believing I would be a Mommy to a baby here on this Earth. I felt like the Israelites wandering and grumbling in the desert. Like Hannah drunkenly praying for a miracle. I hoped and believed that God would give me the desires of my heart even as James started to lose hope, even when family started making statements like, "IF you have kids..." (instead of when, like I believed).

Today, if you are walking through the trenches of infertility...I pray that you know you are not alone in this battle of hope and despair that washes over you month after month. I plead with you to not walk it alone, reach out to women who will understand and hold your precious heart with delicate care. Reach out to someone that will say, "I get it!" and really get it. Send me a text, give me a call, ask me to have coffee with you. I have ears that will listen.

I wanted to share this little nugget from an entry that fully made me aware of how on fire I was for God after my walk down Bitterness Lane and Hateful Avenue.

November 2011

Everything will work out for good according to God's will. Be it adoption, natural pregnancy, or ART. I can allow myself to have a divide placed between me and God, or I can focus on the future in fervent prayer. I am going to start praying for my future children. I do not know how they will come to us, but I do know they will be immensely loved, cared for, and blessed.  Through prayer I am hoping my focus on infertility will lessen as I grow deeper in love with Christ. I will focus on the blessings I have, and those I can bestow upon my children when he chooses to give them to us. 

This battle will never be over. But God will forever have my heart. HE will work things out, even when I think I am trying to work them out for Him. The scripture "In everything give thanks, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus, concerning you." 1 Thessalonians 5:18

I am thankful that God has the future planned out. That everything will work out for good. I can sit here and let worry and doubt cloud my future, or I can pray for clarity in my decisions. I can face the battle with God by my side. Clothed in God's best for me. 

I am still thankful that God has the future planned out, and that he works everything for good for those that love Him (Romans 8:28). My good may never look like your good. I will never know a life that doesn't have loss and multiple miscarriages, but you may also never know life in heaven with 10 new faces looking up at you and calling you Mom! I am blessed. My cup is overflowing. Even though in this world it doesn't make sense.

 

Sacred Land

Have you ever had those moments that from the beginning of the day God just tugs at your heart letting you know that today is going to be a day you will need to lean on me for comfort and to exude grace? For me that is so often and many times the day is filled with scattered tears falling down my cheeks. 

With pregnancy announcements, babies and big pregnant bellies becoming frequent as ehat appears to my heart as another baby boom that is coming....I know these days will be often and close together. Because while I am so incredibly happy and thankful for their little miracles that will be safely in their parents arms (and will want to snuggle their precious little bodies when they arrive!)....it reminds me of my brokenness and my grief of ten littles in heaven. I am so thankful for a God that can restore me each day and remind me who I am.

This was my prayer earlier today.

********

Lord, sometimes I want to just lay prostrate and weep because we are so blessed and though we have had so much pain in this life we now know your blessing! The amount of faith it takes to lean into you during hard times. My heart aches that others may go through life without knowing these sorrows because it truly shows how brightly you can and do shine in this world. Then my heart aches because in this world we have to experience this sorrow instead of just getting to live with you in Heaven.

And it reminds me of how blessed our babies are to experience none of this and to just go to heaven and spend time with you. Do they sit in a Bible study with Moses?  Do they get to learn about how much we wanted them from Hannah? If they fall down does Jesus get to hug and kiss them? Is my grandma there knitting them socks, hats, and goofy sweaters, while saying "Your grandma's girl" or "Your grandma's boy"? Is grandpa there saying "I might love ya, but that doesn't mean I have to like you." while leaning in to give them a prickly kiss on the cheek?

I am here God, realizing the sacred ground you have placed below my feet. Realizing that our testimony can give many comfort and hope. In desperation we have clung to you. In joy we have shared how immeasurably blessed we are. In our trials we have done our very best to leave it in Your hands.

Thank you for walking with me Lord. Opening my eyes and heart to others needs and trials so that through prayer and a kind word they can realize they aren't walking on that road alone.

Thank you for breaking me so you could show me your strength and make me whole in my weakness. You are too good to me Lord. Please help me to keep spending time with you and put a fire deep in my heart that cannot be quenched for you and your word.

You have made me humble. And showed me much mercy and grace. Forgive me when I try to take over the reigns or the pen that rights my story. For only you Lord knows what is best for me and what is truly to come. Help me to dream big dreams that coincide with your dreams for me. Help me to see prayers come to life and see miracles in the daily grind. Help me to see your blessing in disguise and rejoice because you are a God that hears and saves.

I love you Lord.

Thank you for not walking away from me and accepting me back when I strayed too far from you. I have run back into your arms like a prodigal son and have gotten to see the joy and comfort of your arms. ♡

Wished. Hoped. Dreamed.

When I was little I wished on stars.

I wish I may I wish I might have this wish I wish tonight.

I didn't know that instead of wishing there was a God sitting in heaven that sent His son to die for me....that I could pray to and ask for the desires of my heart.

But once I did and saw that God answered prayers I hoped that he would answer yes to all the things I asked for. Much like a young child begging in a toy store or for candy at the check out.

I would get sad and think he wasn't hearing me. What's the point of a big guy in heaven if he isn't even going to put on his listening ears. GOD IT'S ME....JESSICA! YOU CREATED ME....REMEMBER? CAN YOU EVEN HEAR ME?!

What I had failed to realize is that sometimes the times when you saw answers right away it was building a treasure box for your faith to rest in. Knowing God had answered once and he could do it again.

Once I realized sometimes his response was a quiet whisper or a gentle tug on my heart....I became less bitter and more excited to see God move again in my life.

And move he has. Throughout our journey I have been made weak so God can be strong and been filled with gloom so God could brighten my spirit. But sometimes I hate being the bearer of bad news.

I want so badly to just be able to shout again of my joy in a time of celebration and happiness. Instead of speaking of finding joy in the hard times and reminding people God is there in the tough times to hold you through it.

The cramps remind me that this will not be a shout for joy and celebration most likely. In honesty the wishes that I had. The hopes. The dreams....they must not line up with the plans that God has for me.

That's right friends. I was or am...pregnant. same old story. Tests are getting lighter and cramps are beginning. This is the 11th time I have been pregnant. And it seems to get easier as I lose more weight....but that echoing question of when or if God will ever let me carry a thriving life goes through my heart.

I dreamed of a big family. At least 4 kids. I just never imagined they would be sitting in the laps of those in heaven before they got to be held in my arms. It is time to change my dreams I think. My prayers need to turn more towards God fulfilling the family we are destined to have be it from foster care, a baby born half way across the world, or another little miracle carried in my womb.

I can wish. I can hope. And I can dream. But ultimately....God is the one in control of it all. ♡

And in the mean time I will remember how blessed I am to have these two handsome men in my life. 

Matthew is now saying Cheese when you tell him to and he wants his picture taken.
Can you say adorable?

Since I have been working a lot and doing school Matthew is turning into a daddy's boy.
He is pretty darn precious to my heart.

                                                         

God Has a Funny Sense of Humor

While looking through my drafts I found this completed post I never posted.  It is from April of last year.

 When I was younger, my one goal for having children was to be older than 20 because my mother had me at that age and I wanted to break the cycle.

Little did I know, that God had different plans for me and if I had gotten pregnant at the age of 20 I would have looked at it as such a gift from God.

My goal of waiting to get pregnant....changed when I fell in love with James and got married at the age of 21 and the huge desire to be a mom filled my heart to the brim. James said we needed to wait, so we waited. A year into our marriage with my monthly cycle getting longer and longer I got diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS). I will never forget the sound of the nurse's voice over the phone when she told me, "if you want to have children you may want to start trying soon because the longer you wait the more likely the harder it will be. Especially if your cycles continue to get further and further apart."

I was devastated. The thought of not being able to see a little baby that was half James and half myself was disheartening. But I still was unaware of the journey that God had set before us.

3 months into trying, I was ecstatic for the faintest of a pink line to show up! The doctors ordered lovenox for me to begin due to past history of a blood clot, progesterone to be tested, and hcg to be checked 48 hours apart. When they told me I was indeed pregnant but to remain cautiously optimistic due to the low progesterone (it was less than 10; they wanted 15 at more, 20+ even better) my heart dropped and I prayed fervent prayers for God to please, save this baby. 48 hours later, I got the news, all hyped up on dreams and extra progesterone, to quit the progesterone and wait for my miscarriage to begin.

Devastation. I don't know if I had ever cried that hard in my life, when I got the news on the playground at work that day. On thanksgiving the miscarriage began full force, and I was left putting on fake smiles while my insides were hurting.

We had unprotected sex once that cycle after the miscarriage. On Christmas I had a feeling I should test. With much joy, and uneasy optimism a second pink line popped up! We were expecting again! Surely God wouldn't have allowed us to get pregnant again this quickly if this little being wasn't to stay with us.

My hcg (pregnancy hormone) rose accordingly, but my progesterone was once again low. So that meant more excessively tired and weepy Jessica on supplements. When we went in for an ultrasound, there was the little circle of what should be a baby. But there wasn't a visible heartbeat.

So together we cried. We prayed for God to save this baby. I held on to false hope. And got told by the doctor that it was okay to wait if that is what I wished because "there isn't much tissue there anyways" um tissue?, that's our baby! I was SO angry with that doctor (and never saw her during my pregnancy with Matthew).

This time when I finally concluded that the pregnancy wasn't viable I quit the progesterone and assumed within a day the miscarriage would begin. But I was wrong. Labs showed my numbers were dropping but not like they should. It hurts my heart and stomach to talk about these things. At my mom's house in January I had to insert cytotec to help my baby leave my body. It was the most intense pain I have ever felt. That day I flushed what was once a growing baby, down the toilet. And I cried. And I became so bitter towards God.

After our second loss we did testing, SO much testing, we found out I had MTHFR a clotting disorder that also impacts your folic acid absorption. That James definitely had great swimmers. And we then tried clomid for 3 cycles....which I termed menopause in a bottle. Crabbiness, hot flashes, and great ovulation. But still no pregnancy.

At this point I read a blog that talked about how fat was her infertility. And James and I began exercising and counting calories hard core. I decided even if it didn't help me get pregnant, at least I would look darn good trying! It was my motivation during nursing school, my way to relieve stress, and I got the most fit I had been in a very very long time.

Right when I was considered no longer obese....something amazing happened! I got pregnant, and my ovulation was superb so no supplements were needed. But alas, God called that baby home again before I had the chance of seeing anything on ultrasound.

We were so disheartened, and James even mentioned just stopping trying. We contemplated birth control even with my clotting disorder just so we wouldn't have any more heartache. Thankfully we didn't. I thought it to be hilarious when our tickle toes stuffed monkey went off while doing the deed, and in that moment a renewed flicker of hope was placed in my heart. A week later, even before I could test I knew in my heart that we were expecting and this child was going to be our take home baby. I started testing...and testing....and testing and watched the pink line become darker than ever before. Until I decided to go get labs done, and even then I still didn't tell James because I didn't want to see the excitement, worry, and sadness in his eyes.

With awe and a pit in our stomach we waited for our ultrasound. And with tears in both of our eyes we got to see the most amazing thing in life...a beating heart, a baby growing within me. A baby that was ours.

And I laughed. With so much joy. God had blessed us, after 2 years and so many losses.

Our little Matthew (God's Gift) Isaac (Laughter) was born.
He is now 5 months, and has giggled only once (I told you God has a funny sense of humor).

We are so blessed.

Reflections: Our Infertility and Foster Care

HI have been working on this post the past couple of weeks. School has been intense to say the least! Add to it work and all the time spent in my car driving to all of the places I need to go there is little time left for me to reflect and get my thoughts out of my head and onto "paper".

With this most recent loss (number 8 if you missed that part...) and the fact that this month is all about foster care on the radio, I have done much thinking. And talking to God.

And talking to others about our infertility and losses and what it means for our family. I have not gotten insensitive comments this go around. Rather ones filled with hope for us to have more children and of sadness for what we have endured for that hope of maybe a baby. My heart is just sad and I am having a hard time reminding myself sometimes it is okay to be sad for more than a few days. Because infertility and loss isn't fair. It hurts and it sucks. It goes against the grains of nature of how you expect life to go. A parent is supposed to die before their children. Just as I shouldn't have to have this small (realistic) belief that each pregnancy may be another baby in Jesus' lap as I hope to maybe be able to see their face.

While I have been spared comments like "there must have been something wrong with it" this go around more than once I have gotten the questions, "if you can't have any more are you just going to adopt?"

We aren't just going to adopt. No one just adopts (just like no one goes through fertility treatments on a whim...that stuff is expensive and most insurance companies do not cover anything). There is such a huge long process and cost with adoption. Same with foster care. There is training lots of paperwork and a lengthy house study. If adopting from overseas there is those added costs and time off from work to pick them up from their country.

Regardless, if God had chosen to make us super fertile or kept us the way we are now...we would still have been drawn and called to foster care. Because just as infertility doesn't seem fair, it isn't fair the things the children in foster care have to go through. And as much as I wish I could have saved the babies I lost at least I know I can make an impact in a child's life here on earth no matter how short their stay is with us.

Between dreams I have had recently and nudges I have felt from God. Added to a dream one of my friends had confirming what I had dreamt by telling me what God had showed her in a prayer...I do believe there is one more pregnancy for me that leads to a healthy baby. But I haven't had any confirmation that we will have more than that. Biologically at least.

There are so many babies that are being grown in my heart it isn't funny. James and I have always wanted a large family. In today's age 4 kids is large. I loved being one of four. And James has joked about having 7 (so not to have to pay taxes lol). But honestly if God said we were to have 2 bio children and 5 adopted. Who would I be to say no if that was the plan he had for me...even if it meant getting a Duggar sized vehicle to drive around.

What I am saying is...I am at the point to where I have realized I NEED God in the good times and the bad. I NEED to be content with what he has given to us. Even if it is 8 babies in heaven and one in our lap. I cannot compare the path God has chosen for me to the path he has chosen for others.

We run our own race. Towards God not with each other and what we wish we could have on our own time line. I think that is one of the biggest things God has been teaching me. I truly need to trust in Him and the plan He has for us. And stop comparing and wishing for the life he has given to others.

One day we will get that hallelujah call for a baby in the hospital. Just like in my dream and the same love I felt for Matthew will overcome me for a baby that I have grown in my heart instead of my womb. And through the ups and downs of foster care maybe I will learn to appreciate even more what God has taught us through our multiple losses.

One Thing I Can Do Right.

This is a Draft I began in October 

I may not be able to stay pregnant very easily. And I may have to be watched carefully because I am high risk.

BUT the one thing I can do really well is....breastfeed.

In the beginning 6 weeks, where I was exclusively pumping, every 2 hours because Matthew wouldn't latch...you could have asked me then and I would have said even I couldn't do that right.

I persevered and now Matthew is 11 months old without any signs of him wanting to stop any time soon. I am planning on nursing for at least 7 more months.

People may think I am crazy. They find it gross when you breastfeed into toddlerhood. Yet, this is in the US only. The place with the lowest breastfeeding rates. The CDC recommends 6 months of exclusively breastfeeding your child. The WHO recommends at least 2 YEARS of breastfeeding, and further if mom and children wish.

I started out covering up in public. Thinking it was the Christian thing to do, to be modest and all that jazz. Then came the summer when there was NO WAY I was going to cover Matthew up while he nursed, and to be frank he would refuse and you were more likely to see nipple if I tried to cover him up.

Now, I do not cover up but I do my best to maintain modesty. I always wear a cami to cover up my stomach, and then I pull up my top shirt while pulling down my cami. I want to help make breastfeeding the norm, encourage women to at the very least TRY to breastfeed and if possible break our cultural view of breastfeeding being seen as weird or gross. Or better yet increase the number of mom's that make it past 6 months or a year.

Matthew is now 14 months old and is still nursing regularly. I hope to nurse til he self weans. Which I am hoping will be around 2 years. I would love to tandem feed if God chooses to bless us with another healthy pregnancy soon.  With our 8th loss recently my guess would be that it isn't going to happen as I would hope. 

I cannot stay pregnant very well but I am a nursing champion!  :-)

Audacious Prayer

I have been trying to set aside time every night for time with God (I would be lying if I said I haven't skipped a night off and on even though I started January....it is a work in progress). I have been reading a devotional, reading chapters out of the Bible, and just trying to dig deeper into my relationship with Him.

Today's entry was on audacious vs conservative prayer. Can you imagine the Bible with conservative prayers only being answered? Lazerus would have never rose from the dead. Joshua would have never beat Jericho. Daniel would have been eaten by a lion. David would have been taken down by his enemies. And Hannah would have remained childless.

The last part. Made me tear up. Hannah prayed so audaciously that they thought she was drunk. Maybe she was a little drunk...on the love and hope for her to carry a little life. She prayed so big that those looking on thought she was not of a normal state of mind.

Are your prayers audacious? Be it praying for a church building that seems impossible (and is 100% impossible without God). Praying for adoption funds. Praying for a miracle cure. Or prayers for a baby to be conceived after years of infertility and loss.

Pray audaciously and let God in. You may be surprised by the story he decides to write in your life.

Matthew is my reminder that God still answers audacious prayers. And while people look at me as if I am crazy when I say one day we will actively try for a sibling for Matthew.  I know in my heart God answers audacious prayers.

Even if it means people look at me as if I am drunk and I have to walk through tough times to get to his answer. Audacious prayer is always better than conservative prayers.