Just a note :) **As a follow up to my last post about my recent battles with anxiety - thank you so much for your sweet encouragement. What beautiful friends and family I have. I am doing my best to live one day at a time and so far I am thankful for how much better I am feeling. I know it's a long journey. And I am getting lots of help! And by no means do I think I'm "all better now." But God is with me. There is joy in my days. There is purpose in my life. And there is hope above all else. So thank you.**
*Warning: This post is extremely wordy. In fact there are NO adorable pictures of my son or ANY pictures for that matter, (gasp!) I know. It's horribly disappointing. Some of you may just bail right now. But I hope you don't. And I promise to make it up to you soon. He's just getting cuter you guys. I kid you not. So just you wait. :)*
Similar to my last post, there are many things
that have inspired me to write this - both recent and ongoing - but at the heart of it
all is this : I want to be real. I want to grow. I want to reach out. I want to
live fully and honestly and happily. And this is one way I feel I can do that.
Ok here goes.
3...2...1...
No, I’m not pregnant.
I know the title had the word "baby" in it but no - I'm not pregnant.
For some, that
sentence might carry as fairly neutral or dismissive tone as I’m sure many of
you read it. For others, it might have a humorous ring to it like “No I’m not
pregnant! Can you imagine?!” or even bring a sigh of relief to some. But for
others – it brings slightly different feelings. Feelings of longing,
frustration, sadness, or real pain. And if you could feel the twisting of my
gut just typing those words – you would know where I fall in those categories.
If you could feel the
way I catch my breath and my stomach lurches when I see a baby shower
invitation, or ultrasound picture or cutesy photo on facebook announcing that
someone else is going to be welcoming a baby into their lives – you would
know how deeply I want that for myself.
If you could see me read one of the many emails I receive about
scheduling a maternity or newborn photography session and see my eyes burn with
tears and feel my heart race– you would know how sometimes my love of
photography intertwines with my own personal hurt so much it makes me dizzy.
If you could hear my
thoughts, read my heart, feel what I feel … you’d know.
Yes. I want another
baby.
I want another baby
so much that I will probably put Jet in footie pajamas till he’s 15 unless I
get one. He's in one now. I kid you not. I’m grasping at his last bits of babyhood so fiercely that I may very likely lose my mind at his 4th birthday next month. My baby is growing up so
wonderfully…but so fast.
I want another baby
so much that I’m pretty certain it’s a big part of what pushed my recent
anxiety attacks into the nightmare they became. That no matter how I tried to
not want it so much., to just live and let live. To just be thankful for what I
have been given and focus on all the wonderful things I can do in my life.
I still want another
baby so much it hurts.
It’s not that I
begrudge anyone else their babies – please! Such a beautiful blessing to be
given. I love when my friends and family become mommies. Babies are to be
celebrated and cherished. I love being an Aunt and hope to have more nieces and
nephews to come. I want you to have your babies. God bless your heart if you
think your baby makes me sad. Not at all sweet mommas.
If I shed a tear it’s
not for you, it’s for me.
I don’t want your
baby. I want my own.
We want to grow our
family and have wanted this for 2 years now.
Did most of you know
this?
Probably not.
It’s extremely
personal.
Just like my previous
post on anxiety – it’s not something we generally like to talk about. Even with
our spouses it can be difficult to open up about. It’s not something to you
dive into over a quick cup of coffee with a friend nor would it be polite
dinner conversation. It’s kinda heavy. It’s certainly serious. And it’s way too
emotional for the everyday chat with the neighbors or even sometimes with your
own family. But just like my battle with anxiety – I know that I am not alone
in these feelings. I can feel it. I can see it. And now…my heart is aching not
only for myself, but for the others, some of them very dear to me.
There are many women
I know (friends, family, even acquaintances) with whom I have discovered common
ground in these areas that I would have otherwise never known - because we don’t usually talk about
these things. Who wants to?
Infertility.
Miscarriage.
Infant loss.
When you have lived
through something I just listed above– just hearing about it is like the sting
of a band-aid being ripped off a wound that never seems to heal. Talking about
it can be like pouring salt in that wound. But keeping it inside – for me -
that has to have been the worst pain of all.
I know all pain is
relative.
Everyone is
different. Every circumstance is different. Everyone feels, copes, processes,
and handles things different. But somewhere in all those differences there has
to be some commonality.
Whether you have
struggled to get pregnant for 6 months or 6 years.
Whether you have had
1 miscarriage or 5.
Whether you have lost
a child at birth or just too soon into their lives.
Whether you have no
kids…or 2 kids…or 4…when you want a baby - you want a baby. The desire to be a
mother is one of the strongest, deepest most compelling feelings we as women
can have. There is certainly nothing else like it for me. The pain, the
confusion, the anger, the frustration, the fear, the heartbreak of the above
situations may manifest itself differently in each person. And it may differ in
one individual from one experience to the next. But at the core I can’t help
but feel like the hurt is somehow the same.
Before we had Jet, we
lost our first baby early on in the pregnancy in a miscarriage. And I will be
the first to tell you that it ripped. my. heart. out. I had never felt a pain
like that before. I’d heard of it happening. I’d had friends who I’d seen go
through it. I felt as if I could sympathize. It was sad, but there was always
that strength you witnessed in their actions and words that consoled you into
thinking “it’s all gonna be ok.” But nothing could have prepared me for fear
that gripped me at those first drops of blood, nor the stabbing in my heart
when I learned I was in fact losing the baby. My baby. My baby I’d dreamed
about since I played with baby dolls. My baby I’d already bought little white
Auburn booties for to surprise Daddy the night I told him. My baby that I loved
with all my being the instant that magical Clear Blue digital pregnancy test in
the Starbucks restroom said “pregnant”. My baby who I’d excitedly told my
family and coworkers about within 48hrs. My baby! Whom I’d only known about for
4 days but felt as if I’d been a mother always…was suddenly gone. Only a few
days to fall in love so hard – to see your life changing before your eyes in a
beautiful flash – and having it harshly taken away truly felt as if a part of
me were dying as well. Like I said. I know everyone is different. But for me,
this was the first time my heart was truly broken. I felt emptier than I’d ever
felt before. My baby was gone. And I questioned God’s plan for me, and how this
could possibly have been the right thing to happen. Will I ever know what it’s
like to have 2, or 3, or 4 miscarriages? I don’t know. I pray not.
And when I think of the mothers who have
gone 5, 6, 10. 14, 20 weeks, full term and beyond their first years and lost
their babies. My heart cannot fathom the feeling.
I was a walking
shadow of myself for weeks. There were of course ups and downs. God let me work
through pain then took it away and brought me peace. I was healing…slowly.
Too
slow it seemed most times.
Then one day
something changed. I found out I was pregnant again. God gave me my second
baby. The baby whom I found out about after a quick 6am stop at Walgreens and
practically running into the bathroom of the elementary school I was teaching
at to take the test. The baby I kept secret from everyone but family as long as
I could. The baby I was equally excited and terrified about for weeks. The baby
I prayed non-stop would be my baby. My baby to have in my arms. My baby to help
heal the hurt. And for almost 20 weeks, he was. He was my precious, perfect
baby boy.
Then many of you know
what happened next.
After some bloodwork came back abnormal,
we were sent to a perinatologist to check everything out. Everything was
“probably fine”. We just have to be sure.
And that’s when I
lost a baby for the 2nd time. That’s when the doctors told me that
the beautiful, perfect, angel boy growing inside me had a severe form of
neuro-tube defect and would most likely be incompatible with life. That’s when
they told me about my option to abort so I wouldn’t have to carry him just to
watch him die. That’s when my still fragile heart burst into a thousand little
pieces and fell in the form of endless tears from my eyes. I cried till there
were no tears left. I cried until my heart physically hurt within me. I cried
until I was numb. Out of breath. Out of tears. Out of thoughts. Then I would
stop, rest, and then cry some more.
I knew I couldn’t
abort my baby.
My baby who was still
alive and moving inside me.
Dear God I can’t do
that to him.
But I didn’t know how
I would ever survive carrying him 4 more months knowing I would have to say
goodbye. Or at best – see him on life support or in a comatose state – severely
handicapped for whatever short life he lived. I was so broken I was certain I
would never be whole again. I prayed right then to God that no one, no mother,
would ever have to feel this pain I was in. I prayed that He would just take me
and my baby right then and there - to heaven – where we could be together whole
and perfect without living another day of this nightmare. But many mothers have
lived this pain before me and many have gone on to feel this pain since. And
God didn’t take me then. But nor did He take my baby. Instead, He gave us a
miracle. A miracle in the form of a second appointment that gave us a new hope
– a diagnosis that our son had Spina Bifida – that he may never walk, would be
developmentally delayed, would have bladder and bowel problems his whole life
and perhaps a string of other issues – but that he was going to live.
That miracle – is our
Jet.
My sweet Jet
Montgomery Penny born in the beautiful month of May and who will turn 4 years
old in a matter of weeks. The funniest, cutest, wildest, sweetest part of our
lives. A dream born out of what threatened to be the worst nightmare of my
life. My baby.
Being Jet’s mommy has
been one of the most profound and rewarding experiences of my life, and this
love is more beautiful than I could have ever known.
So of course, I want
to do it all over again. J
We’ve always planned
to have more children. And we were able to get pregnant so quickly the first 2
times that it seemed like having more was only a matter of when we wanted more.
It’s up to us right? So let’s wait till Jet’s 2 and then get pregnant again. Oh
how God must have smiled knowingly and shook His head at us. His poor children
still thinking they’re in control
- not relying on His plan but trusting in their own understanding of
“how it should happen.” Little did we know…just because you’ve had a baby
doesn’t mean you’re a baby factory. And boy was that a hard lesson for this
momma heart to learn. After a few months of “see what happens” we slid into “ok
lets maybe pay a little attention to timing” then shaking our heads in
confusion started asking doctors for tips on increasing our chances and what we
should do to get pregnant. Mostly we heard “you’re both so young. No worries,
it will happen” or “the average time it takes for couples to conceive is 9
months to a year – just wait,” or my personal favorite “oh just stop thinking
about it and it will happen.”
Ok.
Sure.
Now if you’ll just
hold onto my heart and brain for a bit while I go live in a world free of baby
ads, baby clothes, and actual babies, I’ll go “not think about” it a while.
Ok so maybe that’s
dramatic.
There are certainly
days – even weeks – where I feel like I’m “not thinking about it.” In fact,
with my recent battle with anxiety and how awful I’ve felt and all the
medications I’ve been trying I’m certainly not on baby-watch right now. Deep
down I know what’s good for me and my family – and getting pregnant right now
would not be that thing. But with so many reminders (including one monthly
reminder that screams in your face “no baby in there again this time sucker!”)
It’s honestly pretty much impossible not to think about it. Yes I’ve heard the
stories of so-and-so who gave up on getting pregnant then was suddenly
expecting twins or the Mr and Mrs who decided to finally adopt then found out
within weeks they were expecting. I know. It happens. They “stopped thinking
about it” and it happened. Or so it seems.
But I’m telling you.
You can’t make
yourself stop thinking about it.
All you can do is try
to think about other things and make those your focus. Being a mommy to the
awesome little boy I have. Being a wife to my husband. Being a friend to those
who need me. Being a servant of God and sharing His love with others. Did God
put me here solely to have kids? I’m pretty sure that answer is “no”. So what
else could I, should I be thinking about? Not that I think we should feel guilty
or beat ourselves up for wanting things in life like healthy relationships,
marriage, children and good jobs that we truly love. Those are blessings God
has given us and He created us to want them. But He didn’t create us to stress
or obsess about these things. And as difficult as it is for any of us, most
especially me, to not think and worry and plan and take the responsibility for
mine and other’s happiness on my shoulders – my shoulders are not nearly big
enough.
But His are.
When I was a little
girl. I would say “when I grow up I want to be a mommy…then a ballerina.” Now.
I share that not only to show the incredibly poor planning on my part, but to
show you where my heart has always been. I wanted to be a mommy. I love my own
momma so much. I wanted to be just like her. Still do. Many would say I’ve
succeeded. So much so that we often show up dressed alike at the gym or church
or each other’s houses without meaning to. I promise. Some have questioned the
legitimacy this phenomena but as much as I love my mother – what 28 year old
girl on earth would purposely dress as twins with their mom?
Exactly.
So to have
experienced a miscarriage first, then think I’m going to lose my 2nd
baby at birth, then to want more children and have to wait much longer than I
ever, ever, planned. This has been a struggle for me. I know 2 years for some
may seem short. I guess relatively it is. I know I already have a child. I know
there are others with no children who have tried 5 times as long with no
success. I know that.
But this is my life.
My heart.
My longings.
And no one can tell
me that one person’s pain isn’t equal to another’s.
That one person’s
suffering in one area is somehow “less” difficult because of the circumstances.
Logically – yes it would seem that having a child is better than no children. I
100% agree. My boy is beyond precious to me. But does having him make me want
another baby less? No. If anything it makes me want another baby more. For once
I felt the love of a mother…when I first dreamed it….then got my first a
glimpse of it…then finally held my dream in my arms….my desire if anything grew
stronger. I love him more everyday. So how could I ever compare the loss of a
child at 2 weeks, 2 years or 22 years old? I can’t. We can’t. We can only know
what we’ve personally experienced. What we’ve felt. What we’ve lived. So in my
mind, there is no ranking the heartaches of motherhood. Whether you have no
children. Whether you’ve never been pregnant, or you’ve had a miscarriage, or
you suffered the loss of a child already born to you. The pain is incomparable.
And to try and compare our sadness or experiences to others in that way is only
harmful. Unless you do so in order to keep perspective in your own life. Such
as realizing that while so many may seem to “have it easier than you”, there
are just as many who you might find have it much more difficult.
There’s that saying
“if we all threw our problems in a box with the rest of the world’s problems,
we’d all pick our own right back up.” Life isn’t always what we plan. In fact
in my experience it’s rarely what I planned. And I’m pretty sure God is doing
that on purpose. Not because He gets a kick out of it (although He might, just
a little). But because He loves me, and He knows me, and He’s trying to bring
me closer to Him, despite my arrogant insistence that I have the best plan ever
and I can do it on my own if only He’d listen to me more.
Right.
So I write this for
me. To really search my heart and my feelings – to reevaluate my relationships
and my goals – to focus on my place in the world right now and my role in God’s
family plan.
And I write this for
you. The mothers who are blessed with children. The mothers who have lost
children. The mothers who have known the pain, heartbreak and fear that I have
in one way or another. And the mothers who are still yet to be. You are all in
my heart.
So there you have it.
Another piece of me.
A big piece.
A very current,
ever-changing, still-unsolved, daily-learning, one-step-at-a-time piece of my
life. I’m not asking for answers or tips or even encouragement (although of
course I would never turn any act of kindness away). I simply wanted to share
it. For many reasons, but mostly because this is on my mind and has been for
some time. This is who I am. This is what God has placed on my heart and after
years of keeping it one-on-one with Him and a few close friends I feel the need
to reach out. Maybe this is your life. Whether it be in some small part or
perhaps almost identical. Or maybe you simply know someone whom this applies
to.
Or better yet – you
don’t.
You’ve never
experienced this. You’re at a stage of life where this hasn’t touched you yet.
Or you’ve made personal decisions that have kept these particulars struggles
from reaching you.
But here you are.
And I’m sharing this
with you.
The question is…why?
Maybe it’s so your
eyes will be opened to someone who needs encouragement. Maybe it’s because you
or someone who know will go through something like this someday. And now you’ll
know you’re not alone. Maybe it’s only to
remind us think twice before complaining too much about children or pregnancy to someone who may be hurting – wishing your problems were theirs.
Maybe it’s to make us think before asking those seemingly harmless questions
like “when are you two going to start having kids?” or “when are you going to
have another baby?”
Because while the
answer for some may be just as simple as “oh maybe someday!” or “we’re not
ready quite yet but we want to!”
For many the answers
are hard to voice. Because the answers literally hurt to say aloud.
“We’ve been trying to
have a baby. But nothing yet. We’re still waiting.”
“We’ve been told we
don’t have a good chance at getting pregnant naturally. We don’t know our next
move.”
“We will never be able
to have children for medical reasons.”
“We were just
pregnant a few months ago and just lost the baby.”
“We’ve been pregnant
4 times and no one knew because I miscarried early each time.”
Such harmless happy
questions…with a very real potential to hurt.
I don’t say that to
cause anyone to feel guilty, or defensive or hurt. I too have asked those
questions in the past. We are human. We can’t expect each other to be sensitive
to every single other person’s personal struggles. But awareness is power…awareness can
strengthen, empower and heal…awareness is a gift., should we choose to receive
it with a open heart.
So I’m opening mine
to you.
You may not know me.
But to everyone who reads this, I hope that God will reveal His plan to you as
He has revealed it to me. Usually slowly. Often times blurrily. Sometimes all
mixed up like a jigsaw puzzle that I still can’t understand. But on occasion as
beautifully, perfectly and purposefully as only He can do. And when that
happens, it will all, everything, be clear. And may we all be so blessed as to
someday see God’s wisdom, love, and perfect plan come together … even amid the
most unwanted, incomprehensible, unplanned moments of our lives.
Nothing is "a given" in this life. We aren't promised anything - not marriage or children or a house or a job or anything. Our only Hope is in the Lord and returning to Him someday. That's the goal folks. And though it's often hard to keep my eyes on that...I will be the first to admit I need to keep trying harder.
Lord help me as I
press “publish” on this thing. Please understand this is all just my heart. I
do not claim to have any answers much less all of them. I just wanted to share.
I hope my words will encourage and not injure, protect and not provoke, heal
and not hurt.
God bless you all…and
goodnight.
