4 and 7 make 11...My Journey To Motherhood

In second grade I was learning to add and subtract with chubby primary colored teddy bears. My teacher taught us many things that year, how to share everything like the Box Car Children did, how to read chapter books, and that 'four and seven makes eleven'.

Four years ago this spring I was on the journey to motherhood, but the journey was NOT going down the path that I wanted it to. I haven't blogged much about it until now, mostly because the past two years I haven't slowed down enough to, but also because it was a sensitive subject that brought about unwanted tears.

Sunday, April 1, 2007 I decided to take yet another pregnancy test, as I hadn't been feeling well for a few weeks. Not only was it April Fools Day, but it was also the day that we were throwing a shower for our friends Stephen and Amy, who were only the second couple in our small group to have a baby. I happened to have a digital test, so that morning I decided to finally test, and PREGNANT showed up right away. I tucked the test away and went about my day, slightly distracted. When we got home that night I broke the news to Jason. He was in shock. I remember him lowering himself to the floor in front of our closet and saying, "This isn't a joke?!?! This had better not be a joke!" No joke. I was pregnant.

We waffled back and forth as to whether or not we wanted to tell Jason's family when we visited the next weekend, or if we wanted to wait until we were further along. I called the next day to make an appointment, and 2 days later we were in the doctors office. My doctor decided to do an ultrasound to confirm a due date, as I am extremely unpredictable in this area, if you know what I mean. The ultrasound showed a little bean with a heartbeat fluttering away. I was 6 weeks 4 days. We asked Dr. Adam if, in her opinion, it was okay to tell family. She told us that once a heartbeat is confirmed only 2 percent end in miscarriage. She told us that it was safe to tell our family.

We made up an excuse to spend the night at my sisters house the night before driving to Kansas City to see Jason's family so we could tell my family too. We had fun telling them, they were just as shocked and excited as we were. When we got to KC we gave Jason's mom a Grandma Easter card with a picture of the ultrasound in it. We met his dad and step-mom at a coffee shop and laughed and cried as we broke the news to them. Not only did we tell our family while in KC, but we told anyone and everyone that would stop long enough for us to tell them. It was so fun!

We headed back home and went about life, preparing for it to change in a few short months. The next week, while at work, I began to bleed and headed to the ER...just one perk of working at a hospital ;) I was sent home and told to rest and relax, that it was perfectly normal to bleed some during pregnancy. The next day I had an ultrasound and my doctor reassured me that everything looked great, the heartbeat still fluttering on the screen. The next day I miscarried...just 14 days after finding out the most exciting news of my life.

The next few days were a blur, filled with entirely too much physical pain, tears and heartbreak. I was crushed. My husband tried to support me, but it was hard for him to find the balance between being supportive and being strong. I couldn't make the calls to tell our friends and family the bad news. I was so weak, somewhat of a wreck.

We buried our baby at my parent's farm, near the pond and cabin they had just built. When we buried the baby we planted a tree with it. Looking back I needed this closure. I needed to grieve openly and in due time. God was gracious in all of the events leading up to this, from being able tell our family so they could be supportive, to miscarrying at home instead of at work. It wouldn't be until later that I would see his care and love in the details.

Mothers Day 2007 was not a good day for me. The wound was raw and open. I tried to distract myself and rush through the day.

June 2007 I found out I was pregnant for the second time. I was excited, but very very reserved and cautious. We decided to tell family right away, as there is no way that we could have gotten through our first miscarriage without their love and support.

The nausea came, the fatigue was overwhelming.

A week and a half later Jason and I were at the National Mississippi River Museum and Aquarium. I started to spot a little. I remember the rest of the day being so distracting and emotional. I wanted to be strong and try to enjoy the day, but I just couldn't. I felt sick, I felt let down, I was crushed.

The next Monday I had an ultrasound which showed a sac, but no baby growing. My doctor told me that it could be too early to detect a baby and that we would repeat the ultrasound in a week. I said, "Unless I miscarry first." She said, "Yes."

Five days later I miscarried.

You would think that it would hurt less knowing that a baby hadn't formed, that my baby hadn't died, it didn't. It hurt just as bad. My grief went from sad to angry.

The next few months were a roller-coaster of emotions. Not only was I angry, tired, and sad, but I also wasn't getting pregnant. I consulted my physician and she suggested that I try a fertility drug to make me ovulate. We decided to decline at that time as we knew I could get pregnant, and weren't ready to travel down that road.

In November started to go to an acupuncturist who also practiced Chinese herbal medicine. She was a total hippie and guru, but I liked her. Originally I went to help regulate my body, but looking back I needed to just lay on a table for an hour once or twice a month and just be still. Some of my best prayer times came in the midst of that dark, cool room filled with somewhat creepy chinese music. The Lord began to work in my heart, helping me to realize that I was trying to replace the babies I had lost with a new baby. He also convicted me that I was trying to find my identity in the title of "MOM" instead of who I was because of his grace and forgiveness.

In January of 2008 I found out I was expecting again. I was a mess. I wanted so badly to be excited, I wanted the innocence back, the freedom to tell our family that we were expecting in a new and surprising way. Instead I was paralyzed with fear. I was afraid to eat something wrong, or lift something that was too heavy, under the delusion that I actually had control over whether or not my baby lived.

I made it through the first trimester. You would think that my fear would subside, and it did a little, but even after the 20 week ultrasound that showed a perfect profile and 10 little toes I was still filled with fear that our baby would be taken away at any moment. I remember telling Jason just a few short hours before being told that I had to come to the hospital to be induced that I wouldn't be able to let go of this fear until I had our baby in my arms.

Micah was born in October of 2008. And while his birth was somewhat of a train wreck, he came into this world healthy and strong.

We decided to leave the timing of our next child in the hands of God, after all, he controls every life anyway. In July of 2009 I found out I was pregnant for the fourth time. I can't really explain the emotions I felt, because I think I felt every emotion possible. I was excited, overwhelmed, reserved, and shocked. Micah was only 8.5 months old, thus the overwhemed feelings. Once again, we decided to tell family and a few close friends our news, but kept from shouting it from the rooftops until the first trimester had passed. My reservation was less, but I still struggled to find joy and excitement during the first trimester. I struggled with being bitter over this more during Jude's pregnancy than before. I really felt like something, the innocence and joy, had been taken from me. I hope that I can learn to let that go when and if I become pregnant again someday.

Jude came into this world on Good Friday 2010 as a whopping 9lb 3oz brut.

As Mother's Day approaches I am able to admit and honestly say that I am thankful for the journey that the Lord has taken me/us on over these past 4 years. While I still tear up over the loss of our first two babies, I know that the Lord is sovereign over all, and that their deaths were a product of living in a world of sin, but not a punishment for any sin that I committed. I still wonder what my baby boys or girls would have looked like sometimes, especially when I look at Lucy Butler, who is a little girl who was born very close to when our first baby was due. That being said, I'm thankful for the appreciation that I have for my two precious sons, the appreciation that only a Mother who has lost can have. I am thankful that despite living in a fallen world, I am given moments to find joy in the everyday life I'm living.

To all of you who have lost, I grieve with you. This post is for you.

Happy Mother's Day.

Micah, just a few hours old. This is the only picture you will, and should, see of me during this time. Pre-eclampsia and excess weight gain did not treat me well ;)

Sweet baby Jude!

My first moments with my second son.

Two boys and one happy, thankful mom.