Grateful

This year I’ve started a new habit of doing Bible studies with friends in the you version app. I’ve love the motivation and accountability it has given me. I have spent so much more time in the Word than probably any other year. Every once and a while, something in the study will hit me, and today, this was it! 

• “I praise you, Sovereign Lord, for bringing good from life’s hard times and for allowing me to experience the wilderness for my good and your glory.”

I loved this! Thanking God for our trials because they were for our good and His glory. That’s definitely something I try to do. It may seem crazy, but I don’t think I would want any different outcome for my life so far. Going through four miscarriages has been the most difficult season one my life, but if just one of my pregnancies lasted, I wouldn’t have four babies waiting for me. The timing wouldn’t have worked. And I wouldn’t trade a single one of them. I rejoice in the fact that they each have a name and a personality, and I still am their mother. I will get to meet them one day! 

Going through the heartache of losing them has made me a much better person. There have been so many times I have questioned people inappropriately just because I am curious. Now I’ve been on the opposite side and know how painful those questions can be. I’m still curious, and I still have to fight back those questions, but I have such a heart for those who have gone through similar circumstances, so the fight is worth it! 

Going through my losses has given me a much greater perspective on being a parent. I’ll have rough days, but I pray that God would never let me forget the journey it took to become a parent. God allowing my trials has given me such an appreciation for one day hearing a little voice call me Mom. 

Waiting for what seems like an eternity to meet my baby helps me remember to give our birthmom space. Her time in the hospital will be her only time being the only mom. Those will be her memories, and I can imagine it would feel like an eternity to not have your baby with you every day. 

Because I have lost children, I am so much more in awe of birth parents who see their situation and recognize that adoption is the better option for their little one. That kind of sacrifice can only come from the deepest of love.

So yes, I am grateful for my losses and trials. I’m grateful that God has a plan. I am grateful that somewhere out there is a baby that God is preparing for us. I’m grateful that somewhere out there are birth parents that God is calling us to love. The waiting is hard, and sometimes sad, but it will be so worth it in the end. 

In the Waiting

We’ve truly just begun our journey in the practical sense. Yet, I’ve truly been waiting for this time my whole life! I always knew that it could take years to actually adopt, but I didn’t realize how hard it would be for me to see that time stretched out before me. 

The reality is that we have no true way of knowing how long it will be before we have our child in our arms. This is difficult for me. I’m a strong planner! I like to know how my near future is going to play out as best as I can. 

If we were connected with a birth mom who still had a couple of months left of pregnancy, we would have a little time to prepare and make arrangements, and that would be wonderful. But I have a gut feeling that we are going to get a “stork drop”, which means we will find out about the right before the baby is born or at some point after. It could even be weeks after baby is born and all the sudden we have a child in our home! It sounds exhilarating and terrifying!! 

I think in a lot of ways I would prefer the stork drop. We wouldn’t have months of building hope tampered by the knowledge that mama could decide to parent her baby. With a stork drop, the decision has already been made. 

I think what I’m coming to grasp more fully is that going through adoption is just as much of an emotional rollercoaster as going through pregnancy was for me. Only this time I don’t have to deal with the physical trauma. 

The rollercoaster all comes down to hope. With our pregnancies, MMM always felt more hopeful than I did. I had hope in my first pregnancy. I thought my gut feeling must have been wrong! I always knew I wouldn’t have biological children, but I assumed that meant I wouldn’t get pregnant. I had no concern of miscarriage. After we lost Rachel, my hope was gone. Each pregnancy after her was tinged with resignation. Even after my ultrasound with Connor, my hope didn’t improve much. 

Adoption for me is different. I have absolute confidence that God has called us to adoption. I know God has children for us in some way. Where I lack hope is in the waiting. I want to have patience in Gods timing. 

I’m part of a national support group on Facebook, and I have seen multiple couples adopting out of Utah! It’s hard to not feel discouraged that we missed out on a baby in our area, but I know that we only want the baby that God has planned for us. He has a purpose for those families that we won’t not be able to fulfill if that baby had come to us instead. 

Please be praying for us. For the right situation to come to our attention. For peace and patience in the waiting. For continued hope in God’s timing. 

Partially healed

It has been nine months since I got the second piercing in my ears. Generally, piercings in the earlobes take about 2 months to heal. I didn't dare even take my earrings out once before 5 months had passed. I knew that my body was very sensitive and difficult to heal. At five months I started taking them out to clean them, clean my ears, and would put them back in. At six months I probably started leaving them out for a few hours, seven months - most of the day, eight months - over night, and now nine months. I might leave them out for 24 hours. And even after all this time one of my piercings was bleeding and irritated just yesterday! Through this whole process it has been interesting to me how the holes would take turns being irritated. Rarely were both new holes struggling at the same time. They would switch back and forth...be okay for a day, and them go back to the cycle of back and forth. On more than one occasion I actually found my original holes getting inflamed!

Tonight as I thought about my ears, I appreciated the excellent example of grief it showed me. While I truly believe no one should tell anyone else what is the "correct" way to grieve, this illustration truly fit me to a tee.

When the trauma happens it is such a blow to the system. The five stages of grief can come at any moment and in any order. In many ways it feels like your body is fighting a stab wound to the heart and it's afraid to let anything in. It feels like every moment of every day revolves around the traumatic experience. You might want to get back to feeling normal, and being healthy again, but you have very little control over that aspect of your life. So you take a hold of the few things you can control and start to isolate yourself in fear of exposing just how wounded you truly are.

As time moves on you start to feel a little braver. You carefully prepare some limited time for vulnerability. You might have one experience that doesn't end in a break down and you feel victorious. And then the next time you go in expecting another good result and you end up with a bleeding soul. And so you hide away again, waiting for another day of bravery.

The days move on..You might even be sick of the fear of breaking down. You might be so frustrated that a potential breakdown is even a problem at all. Just to spite the circumstances, you put yourself in a position to be over triggered and expect yourself to handle it calmly and rationally. You probably know how that ends..more bleeding and the start of infection. A pain so deep being triggered in a way that causes despair of ever being truly healed.

More cycles of hiding away and then poking your head out to the light of day..over and over the same things happen. Only this time the victorious days are more common. You begin to feel encouraged that you are coming out of the tunnel of brokenness. The days getting longer and longer between despair episodes. They get so far apart that you no longer are even expecting a new stab of the cruelty of this world.

All of the sudden, without any warning, the traumatic memory is triggered by the sight of more blood. and the discouragement is even deeper than before. You thought you were doing well. You thought you could trust yourself to be better. You feel betrayed by your own self. It is hard to get past that feeling of self loathing.

Fast forward to nine months since trauma (the fact that it's been 9 months - a whole pregnancy- since receiving my piercing has not slipped my mind ) every day seems to be going smoothly. You start noticing that you seem to have healed, and yet every once in a while a word is said and you are reminded of the trauma. Now you feel slightly better equipped to handle it safely. You recognize that this is a pattern. There are things you can do to get through the triggering event. A new hope is born that healing can truly take place. Still you know it may take much much longer than others might expect.


The piercings in my ears are incredibly special to me. I wrote here about how they each indicate a baby I lost. My dear dear friend gave me the insanely kind gift of earrings with each initial. An R for Rachel, an M for Michael, and I for Ishael Grace, and a C for Conner Elliot. As their initials have been used in all four holes I have been blessed to feel my little ones so closely. Another interesting aspect of grief that I have considered is how I can grieve for one loss in different ways than my other losses. I saw that concept perfectly in the back and forth cycle of each hole deciding to be solely difficult. This also will show up as grieving for just one of them at a time. Sometimes thinking about Rachel is so much more painful than thinking about Ishael. And sometimes I feel triggered just by one loss, and not all four. It is a complicated feeling to be sure.

Over all, I think what struck me most is just how much of a growing and learning process it is to allow yourself to heal at your own pace. And how much courage it takes to expect those moments of pain and bleeding and yet still strive to push forward and heal.

I know that eventually my piercings will be completely healed. I appreciate how much my body has healed and I'm going to choose to take is one day after another..just one day at a time. But I also know that my soul may never forget the trauma it has gone through. I am prepared to always be partially healed in grief. I trust God to get me through it.

Four Holes

It has been quite a while since I've blogged. I have been diving into school and loving it. I needed a break. I went through quite a long high after my diagnosis and feeling the satisfaction of that validation. But I'm coming down off that high. I'm now at the point where I'm having to learn how to live with my diagnosis, and that really isn't easy. Unfortunately, I'm still grieving my losses. I don't know if I'll ever not be grieving. Emotionally I go both ways about what I'd prefer. If I were able to stop grieving maybe I would enjoy life more. But, would I still be able to empathize as much? Though I know I'll never truly forget them, would an end to the grief mean less remembrance of my little ones? I'm not sure. I guess the only thing to do is keep moving on one day at a time.

For a while I had been considering getting a memorial tattoo on my foot so that no matter where I went, or how ever my story ends up, I'd still have them with me. They would literally go with me every step of the journey. Unfortunately, I'm pretty prone to infections and after a conversation with my doctor, I decided that getting a tattoo really wasn't an option anymore. I was very disappointed. I had been counting on that special image to remind me of who is waiting for me!

I made myself just forget it and not focus on it. But I still had the money I was going to use for the tattoo. Spontaneously, I decided to get my second earring holes pierced again. I happened to be hanging out with a friend who came with me and even got her second holes pierced too. I was talking to her later about my original plan to get a tattoo when it struck me so hard. I may not have a tattoo for my four losses, but I do have four piercings. I literally have four holes in my body. It was such an amazing moment as I considered that those four holes represent the four holes in my heart that live in heaven. My heart will always be missing those four holes. I also really liked that they (obviously) came in pairs several years apart. Rachel and Michael were three months apart. Then Ishael and Connor were three months apart two years later. I'm really happy that I have four holes in my ears, even though it being a memorial wasn't my first thought. The holes came with pain, and they never filled back in, but they did heal.

That is what God has done for me. I do have holes for my kids that will never be filled, but God has still healed the holes. He has brought beauty from the pain and suffering. I truly am grateful for that.

Connor Elliot

I feel so... Lost. My pregnancy with Ishael was better than either Rachel or Michael. We had so much hope that things would end differently, but we were disappointed. This pregnancy was exponentially better! All my bloodwork was fantastic. We even got to see the baby's heart beat at 6.5 weeks. We knew that no matter what this pregnancy was going better than any before.

It was going better. 

But I knew something was wrong. I was 8 weeks and 6 days when I just felt an overwhelming sense that something was wrong, and I couldn't shake it. 

Things continued on and I had no signs of trouble until I hit 11 weeks. After a lot of calling my doctor we finally got an ultrasound for that afternoon. As soon as the ultrasound came up I knew the baby was gone.

Our baby wasn't moving and we couldn't see any heartbeat. The tech told us the baby only measured 8 weeks and 3 days. I strongly believe our baby died at 8 weeks and 6 days. 

Our baby lived three weeks longer than his siblings and I carried a month longer than before. 

Mentally processing that we lost another baby has been slow in coming. I still feel a lot of denial. I've been struggling to feel anything, including God. 

Friends prayed for us that God would give us a message. I still find it incredible that they prayed that. They know nothing of our history of loss and receiving names.

That night I had a dream. In the dream I actually got a text from God, which sounds so bizarre. But right then I knew I was in a dream and I just wished I could write everything down so I wouldn't forget any of it. I remember several things He said that I truly needed to hear, but the last thing He did was give me a name. 

Connor. Another name I would never have chosen on my own. There are a few meanings for Connor but the one I've laid claim on is "high desire". This baby was so highly desired! But his name wasn't completed yet. A friend reminded me about Elliot which I've had in my mind this whole pregnancy. Elliot means Jehovah is God. It truly just struck me so hard. Our baby boy was so highly desired, but our Jehovah is still God.

I don't know why God has chosen to have us walk this road, but I know His plan is better than mine ever could be. And I'm so so grateful that He gave me the chance to be a mother to my babies. It is far greater to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. 

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month

I made it to another October. The month that everyone in my same boat knows  about. I can't tell you what a comfort it was to learn that there was actually time set aside to help others understand while we grieve.

October can be tough in some ways. Michael's estimated due date (EDD) is in October. You might not understand why that would be difficult. The day he was actually lost should be more important, But getting to an EDD without a baby arriving is devastating. That day (though not many babies are actually born on their due dates) is a reminder of every wish, dream, and hope you had for your baby. 

This year would have been his second birthday. Some days it is so hard to see other kids around his age and know that's what I could have had. I would gladly go through the terrible twos, if I could just have my baby.

My life would be so different now if either Rachel or Michael made it. Sometimes it's hard to accept that I may never know what caused me to lose them. 

Now I have another EDD to "look forward to." And unfortunately it is right before Mothers Day. A day that already has been so painful will be compounded with the crushing pain of disappointed hopes. I'm going to ask in advance that you be extra patient with me on that day. I may just hide in a hole until it's over, but in your joy, don't forget the ones in great sorrow.

I do know that God had a plan, and somehow it is for my good. I also know that it's okay to ask God why. Though I don't understand it, He understands all. I truly believe that when we come to Him with "why me?" He holds us and grieves with us. He knows what it's like to lose a child. The God of the universe knows and isn't alarmed by how I'm feeling. 

God can handle your "why"... He may even give you an answer if you're listening. It may not be the answer you were wanting, but that's where we learn to trust that God's best for us is incomparably better than any plan we have for ourselves.

I want you to know, if this is a hard month for you too, you are not alone. Don't let the isolation of loss overwhelm you. I'm always willing to talk if you need it. 

Airport Opportunites

It’s amazing how God works the smallest things to be an amazing blessing. I've been learning that through this 100 day challenged, although I haven't been blogging about it. :P

I recently had a trip planned to Salt Lake City and it was quite the adventure! I got to my local airport at 4am to try to get on the first flight. I always fly standby which means I have to wait until there is a flight with an empty seat. So, I got there at 4am for the 5am flight. It was oversold, as was the 7am, 9am, and 11am flights. As each flight passed, my spirits got lower, and the other people on the standby list gradually gave up. Finally I was the first on the list and the 1pm flight came and I got the very last seat on the plane!

I made it to Minneapolis and arrived in a B gate. I knew I missed all the early flights to Salt Lake City, so I went to the G gate (on the opposite side of the airport) for the 5pm flight. I didn’t get the flight. I then made the quick decision to fly to my sister’s for the night, even though it cost me even more. This meant that I had to walk to the C terminal (back to the opposite side of the airport) to get to that gate.

I was almost to my gate when I stopped at a coffee shop for a treat.  The barista and I started to chat about my day and the flights. Eventually, he asked me if I have any kids! Dependent on the situation, I have two answers: “No.” or “two in heaven.”  I chose the latter option. You could see the realization of what I meant crossing his face.

What was amazing is how my one answer spurred an hour long conversation about God, religion, philosophy, and the gifts that God gives us. It was such a blessing for me to have that conversation and see how God is using the small circumstances to make a difference in someone’s day. If I had gotten on any of the earlier flights to Minneapolis, I would not have been there in that place and time and had such a great talk. And God is using the trials in my past in order to bring Himself into my conversations.

I know God had me there to talk to this guy specifically because as soon as we stopped talking, they changed my C gate back to a G gate!! So I had the pleasure of walking the length of the airport twice in one day.

I am just so thankful that God is planning my steps and giving me opportunities to be a blessing to others.

Balloons

This month is Pregnancy and Infant Loss awareness month, with October 15th being the specific day of remembrance. I didn't realize this until a friend of mine was sweet enough to give me a very good resource.  I found out that there was going to be a candlelight memorial service for those who've experienced loss on the 15th. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to attend, but then one of my dearest friends had a suggestion. She asked me if I'd like to send some balloons up with her. That meant so much to me....

So two days later we went to the park MMM and I got married at. It's a very special park to me, and a gorgeous one at that. It was a pretty windy day, and I'd been worried it would rain, but it cleared up just in time. My friend "S" picked up 3 balloons - a purple one for Rachel, a blue one for Michael, and a green one for her own son whom she lost a few years ago.

At first neither of us really knew what to say, but that didn't last long. We started talking openly about our losses and how they've affected us. I talked about how that day was Michael's estimated due date. Those who have miscarried will understand the pain that day can bring. I talked about the struggle of feeling like I should be nine months pregnant now and the reality of not being pregnant at all. She shared more of the pain of the loss of her young son, and some of the most difficult things for her to handle. We just talked to each other about our lost children and how to experience grief and also move past the circumstance. Above all, we both agreed that we never want to forget.

 She sent up her balloon to honor her son's birthday that just had passed. I sent up my balloons to honor those who never made it to their birthday. It was a truly powerful thing to do. We saw the wind lift our balloons and carry them away. I noticed right away that my balloons were tangled together. We watched them until they were specks in the Eastern sky, so far away from us. All the while my two balloons stayed together. It was like they knew they were meant for siblings almost close enough to be twins. Those balloons carried my notes and my heart toward heaven. I will always remember seeing them simply float away.

Remembering Rachel..and Michael..

Before I posted about my experience losing Rachel I actually had lost another little one. I just wasn't ready to share anything about it.

It was a different situation only in the fact that I didn't have the innocent excitement at being pregnant that I did the first time. I had all the same symptoms, in fact, it was pretty much a carbon copy of how things went the first time. I did all the same research that I'd done before, and I found an online community that I eagerly became a part of, and I've truly learned to love it. It is a community of women in pretty much every stage of life, and they have some great advice and support there. Anyway, it was a huge blessing for me to have this community to reach out to as I was waiting to know for sure I was pregnant. It was a really hard time though, because MMM was off on a work trip for over two weeks!

So it happened that I knew I was pregnant, and I lost it all while he was gone. It was so difficult dealing with it without him near by, but I was able to talk with him online often. Right away, I began to think 'am I going to ask God for another name', and before I could actually ask, the name "Michael" starting pounding into my head. Seriously, it was like the name was written on a nail and someone was hammering it into my forehead. It only stopped when I said "Ok, ok I get it! His name is Michael!" I can laugh at it a little now, because even in the midst of the darkness of loss, God still managed to get me out of my stupor and respond to Him.

I looked up what Michael means right then and it means "Who is like God?" I love that..I really do. It has been very special to me that my baby boy's name is Michael. It was like God was telling me "you don't need to understand why, just trust that I have everything under control". That was amazing to me. The truth is, I don't understand why I've lost two little ones already, but I do know that God is using my story and my experiences to be a blessing to others. I can praise Him for that!

Immediately after I lost him, I felt pretty numb. I almost didn't believe it was happening. It is amazing the amount of guilt one can feel for not mourning 'enough'. I felt horrible that I wasn't as sad about losing Michael as I'd been about losing Rachel. But I just hadn't allowed myself to let the mourning start. It was about a month  later that I actually started to cry and feel sad and deal with losing him. It was very difficult, and I really wish I would have let it happen right away instead of letting it build up inside of me.

Mother's Day came this year, and I could only be sad. I struggled (and failed often) throughout the day to keep my crying to a minimum, but it wasn't really working. I'm grateful for the wonderful family I have at church who helped me get through the day with patience and great understanding. One of the hardest thing I've dealt with (and still do at times) is just the worry that my babies will be forgotten by those around me. That their short existence didn't count for much. But I know now that won't happen. And even if those around me forget, I won't, and MMM won't, and most importantly God won't forget our loss and pain.

MMM was very sweet on Mother's Day and dealt with a weepy wife all day. But the best thing he did was go buy this beautiful plant for me.

My favorite part is that while it's blooming, it's blooming in two colors. The white changes to purple, but for a while you see both white and purple. So when we have a house, we're going to plant that, and every year when it blooms I'll see the purple and white and will remember my Rachel and Michael.

Rachel: Loss Turned to Gain

So, I have been thinking for quite a while about how I want to share this experience.  It is not an easy one to share, but I hope that God can use my story to bless someone else.  Maybe you have gone through the same struggle and you feel alone.  Hopefully my story will remind you that you are not alone in this at all.

A few months ago, I posted "Names" and "Name's Part Two" and discussed the importance of names in the Bible and also today. I shared stories of a friend of mine, and now I’ll share her last story.

My friend has several babies in heaven right now. Eventually it was adoption that gave them children. With her first baby gone to heaven, something special happened. She was at a Bible study when a stranger came up to her and told her that my friend needed to ask God what the gender and name was for her baby who was with Him. And that’s what my friend did. She asked, and she received.  Immediately, a name came to her mind, and this name has more significance in her life than I can tell you. But this is the story that leads to my story.

Many people probably don’t know this, but I have a baby up in heaven too. As it was, I barely had any time to be pregnant before I lost it. The pain I felt was the worst heart ache I have ever endured.  I didn’t know why then, but I think God allowed it and has been working through it to bless others already.  I didn’t know how to handle my loss.  To many people I’ve told, my loss hasn’t felt real to them because they never even knew I was pregnant. I can understand why it would be hard, but their unbelief just killed me. I needed them to know my pain, and they just couldn’t understand it.

Just like with any tragedy, or awkward situation, I had so many people trying to comfort me who were actually making me angry and upset by their careless words. There are still phrases that get me upset that people believe to be encouraging. One phrase that really got to me was “Don’t worry, you’ll see your baby in Heaven one day.”  I wanted to argue that they couldn’t know that for fact. I wanted to see my baby one day but the problem was this: I didn’t want to be encouraged. I wanted to be sad. I wanted to be emotionally distant. I didn’t want to build my hopes up for my future children just to have them dashed to the ground. It was a very difficult time for me (and still is sometimes).

But here’s where my friend’s story comes in to play. About two months after my miscarriage, I was just thinking about my baby when I remembered my friend’s story.  I was nervous to ask God those questions, but I figured I had nothing to lose. My biggest concern was it would just me talking to myself..making something up to help me feel better..not an answer from God.  But I asked anyway. I asked God what my baby’s name was. Immediately, I got a name: Rachel.  I was almost surprised that a name came that quickly! 

My concerns were taken away with that name, because I’ve never once considered naming my child Rachel. (Now if Eliana Mae came to mind, I’d know it was just me. :P) I looked up the meaning of Rachel right away. I was so curious because the name my friend had gotten was so significant. So I looked it up and Rachel means…sheep. Frankly I was disappointed.  It’s a beautiful name, but “sheep”? Really? But then the thought came to me. My baby is still innocent as a lamb and she will always be safe because she is already with her Shepherd.  A friend later reminded me that in Hebrew, words with “El” in them have the word “God” in them, so in my case, my daughter is God’s lamb. I really like that imagery. God loves her and has claimed her as His own.

That was such a comfort to me. It was in that moment that I truly understood that my baby is in Heaven. Our God loved her so much that He has given her a name. He allowed me to be her mom on earth for a short time, but now I will always be a mother. I may not have the physical proof of carrying a toddler around, but I am a mother, and no one can take that away from me.

One of the things I’ve learned in this process is how silence makes the thing we’re struggling with more powerful.  When I first was telling people about my miscarriage, it was so difficult and I could never get through the conversation without crying. Of course, crying isn’t a bad thing. It’s just not most wonderful thing if you’ve been crying all day like I was. Anyway, at first I didn’t know how to tell people. Bringing up the subject was awkward. It’s almost like the word ‘miscarriage’ is taboo.  The longer we don’t share our hurt with others, the harder it is going to be to overcome it.

Thank the Lord, there is a great community of people I’ve gotten to know who can relate to my pain. Of course I would never wish this upon anyone (on myself either), but I am so grateful to see how God is using this circumstance.  Through it I’ve been able to help friends begin the healing process, I’ve been able to help other friends understand better what I (and so many other women) am going through, and I’ve learned a whole new level of compassion.  A friend of mine had a miscarriage a few months before I did. I was so sorry for her then, but now I truly can understand her pain, and we’ve been able to talk with each other about it. That alone is a huge blessing. 

Though no one can see a physical change in me, I have changed in so many ways. Now I have a hurt that goes beyond words, but I also have the joy of being a mom.  I have the comfort of knowing another aspect of God’s incredible love for us.  One thing I haven’t mentioned yet is that I lost her so early in the pregnancy that it would have been very possible to not even know I’d been pregnant, but I feel like God wanted me to know that. I wasn’t entirely happy about that at first, because if I wouldn’t have known I wouldn’t be feeling such pain. But now I’m so glad I know about my little girl. I may not be able to hold her in my arms, but I hold her in my heart. And I know that she is forever safe in my Father’s arms. That is truly all a mom could ever ask.

The art I asked my friend at Slightly Sprightly to make for me.