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!  :-)