2013

This year was much different. It was probably the most healing year I've experienced since Avery died. Life was relatively normal this year. Of course, it wasn't without conflict, but it wasn't fraught with profoundly earth-shattering circumstances to hurl us off course like previous years. I struggled horribly with my anxiety in the first few months and it wasn't until my writing took off that I felt some relief from that.

Possibly the most thrilling and notable detail of this year would have to be my novel. I can't stress enough how writing has saved me. I was becoming a shell of the person I'd been, so full of fear and sadness. I was constantly worrying about something, convinced that demise was certain at any moment. Writing gave me a reprieve, new thoughts to dwell on, something to be excited about. My characters became special to me and their fictional world my refuge. It might sound crazy to those who don't write, or to those who haven't experienced emotional turmoil. But this was the change I needed. 

Sure, I still have my occasional setbacks and I still have bouts of anxiety and worry, but I am no longer paralyzed by the darkness that was consuming me. My monthly doctor appointments don't grip me with fear any longer. I've learned to contain my thoughts better. 

The struggle I do still deal with is the insatiable desire for more children. As Jude gets older, it only gets worse. He is growing up alone, not even with any cousins, and I long for him to share life with someone like him. I grew up with three brothers who, to this day, remain my very best friends. It hurts that Jude won't know that bond. I find myself still holding onto hope that someday surrogacy will be possible, because that's all I have. I'm not sure what plans God has, but hope is greater than despair. 

New babies are still painful to me. Pregnant women still have me turning my head the other way. It still hurts very much and it's so difficult to be stuck in this place where everyone else around me can move along in their life while I cannot. 

I turned the big 30 this year, which I'm still in disbelief of. I don't think 30 is old, I just can't believe that I'm here already and that time has gone so quickly. Jude turned two in July and that is crazy to me as well. Didn't we just bring him home? 

We lost Bailey this year, but I was surprised to find how quickly I was able to get past it. I guess after losing my own daughter and my grandfather, the loss of a pet wasn't quite the crisis I'd imagined it would be.

Daniel left his CNA job at the health and rehab center and now works at a hospital. He's so much happier and I love that. Lately he's been caring for an elderly man in his home a few days a week and that has definitely helped us out financially. Less stress is nice! Next week, Daniel will begin nursing school to get his RN. I know that will open up so many more opportunities for him and a better life for us a family. 

I pray 2014 is gentle and kind. I pray I can continue on this better path. I look forward to watching my precious boy grow and learn. I will be finishing my book soon and will be publishing it in the coming months. I am very excited about that! 

Anxiety Returns

I believed I was all better. I hadn't felt paranoid or anxious in a few months. Not since Jude's seizure, really. It all began last Friday, when Daniel and I were out celebrating our seventh dating anniversary. It was one stupid thing after another, all strung together to pull down my happy mood.

I'm also struggling with all these pregnancy announcements, that seem to be pouring in daily. BLMs and non-BLMs. I think almost everyone who was also pregnant while I was pregnant with Jude is already having another one. I know if I had the choice, I wouldn't be ready to make Jude a big brother for probably another year, but just watching everyone else have their own choice and the ability to add another baby to their family has awakened a fierce ache. It feels a lot like the ache I had when Avery was gone and I was watching everyone else have their healthy living babies. Just so happens, last weekend, another announcement struck me at a vulnerable moment and I fell apart.

I felt so angry at God. In my head, I yelled at Him, asking Him why He chose this for me. And even if He didn't choose this plan for my life, how could He allow it while I had such a desire for the opposite? Why would He allow this desire to anchor so deeply since childhood? Then, inevitably, the guilt over my anger, mixed with the pain, and just made for a really down evening. It also set the stage for what was to come over the week.

Oddly enough, just like last April, my period decided to be late. Three days this time. I was supposed to get it Saturday, so when Tuesday rolled around, and it still hadn't come, I was panicking. The same thoughts from last year surfaced. The possibility of losing another baby or losing my life trying to get that baby here plagued me constantly. These situations are so painful for me, like being kicked right in the face. It's insulting to pray away what you wish so badly you could have. You are forced to not want what you really do want.

Daniel couldn't take it anymore and went out and bought me a pregnancy test. I never thought I'd have to take one ever again. I was so scared of what it would say. I felt like I was about to find out if I would live or die as I watched the test. When it came up with just one line instead of two, I burst into tears, clutching Daniel so tightly. I was so relieved that no one would be dying... but I was all over again, so upset that this is my reality. That I live a life like this where I'm denied so much of what I dreamed of... and having it anyway, could literally kill me... or innocent babies.

I thought things would be looking up after that. But I guess all of the anxiety and the fears came to head on Wednesday. That night, right before Daniel had to leave for work, I started having an anxiety attack. I was having hot flushes and nausea. It was coming in waves. Finally, being alone and fearing I should go to the hospital, I called my mom. I felt bad waking her, but she was exactly what I needed, especially since Daniel was at work. She knew I'd been under a lot of emotional stress lately and felt that my symptoms came from that. I hoped she was right. After all, some of my biggest fears involve my health and ending up back in the hospital like I was for my clots. But thank God, after talking to my mom for a while, my symptoms started to fade. She calmed me enough to distract me and the symptoms stopped completely.

I was so relieved that it was all in my head. I looked up the symptoms of anxiety attacks and I had almost all of them. Wow. It's never gotten that bad before. I spent the next day with my brothers and parents and I felt much better getting out of the house. There were a couple anxious moments over the weekend, but somehow I managed.

Today, I finally feel more like myself. I'm a bit disappointed that I have allowed myself to get that low again, to where I let my emotions make me physically ill. I'm aware that I can't help it, but I wish I was stronger. Some people suggest taking medication for my anxiety, but I would much rather not, if I can help it. I'm not against it and I believe it can be extremely necessary for people. But I would really like to try getting through this without it.

I really don't want to live this way. I don't want the joy of others to bring me so much pain. It makes me feel ugly. While I never wish any ill will toward them, it still makes me feel bad about myself that I don't know how to separate their happiness from my misfortune. I wish their blessings didn't trigger the inevitable reflecting of myself. I just want to be happy and enjoy what I do have, without being so reluctant. I don't want to compare myself to everyone else and feel so deprived. I pray it's something that will fade over time.

I'm hoping and praying that things get better from here and that the anxiety stays away!

Jude's 2nd Easter / 20 Months Old / Mom's Birthday

It's amazing to compare Jude this year to the tiny, baby version of Jude from last year. To see how he interacts with the activities of his second year of holidays. I love to watch him take part and enjoy it, even though he doesn't understand the purpose yet.

Jude on his first Easter

Jude doesn't understand who Jesus is yet, or what He did for us, but soon he will. It will be an honor to teach Jude about our Savior. I never got to teach Avery about the God who loves us. Instead, she saw His face before she could even see mine. On Easter, I can't help but think of those I love that are celebrating this victorious occasion with Jesus. This is our first Easter without my grandpa... and our fourth without Avery.

It's difficult not to let my mind wander to my childhood, egg hunts in my grandparents' yard, never dreaming of a day when my grandpa wouldn't be there. And it's also difficult not to see the countless precious Easter dresses that adorn the sweet little girls, and not to think about how I can never buy an Easter dress for Avery, or for any other daughter of mine. The desire for that is becoming unbearable.

Despite the hardships of this path I'm on, I am also delighted constantly by my little boy. It's an odd existence, really, to be so conflicted yet so overjoyed at the same time. I once heard it described like train tracks, with joy and sadness running alongside each other. It describes it perfectly.

Jude added so much joy to this special day. I loved his white oxford shirt with his aqua and white checkered tie (That may have been my favorite part). I let him have his Easter basket this morning while Daniel slept (he works nights and sleeps during the day... still). He got a Transformers kite, a bubbles gun, and some blue Peeps. Jude likes Peeps (It's adorable to watch him eat one). We went to my parents' house early, since today was also my mom's 52nd birthday. After Daniel met up with us, Jude went on a little egg hunt. He opened each egg, which contained a Peep, and took a bite of each one before putting the eggs in his basket. Such a silly boy!

 

 

After he'd found all of the visibly placed eggs, we brought out the kite, which I think Daniel enjoyed more than Jude did. Jude watched it for a few moments, but then continued his joyful trekking through my parents' backyard. He loves being outside and he loves walking and exploring, sometimes losing his balance in the thick grass, but getting back up to his feet immediately. I could never tire of watching him enjoy himself, watching him learn about his world.



Jude's goodies from my parents

 

My mom's birthday cake

 

I really cannot believe that Jude is already 20 months old as of today. What an eventful day! I don't know how it's possible that his birthday is in just four months. I still feel like we just recently had his first birthday! Time is seriously going much too quickly. He is growing up too fast. I'm thrilled he's growing up at all, but I wish I could stop time and live these days in slow motion. I miss my tiny baby that's swiftly growing into a little boy. I could go on and on but I'm quite certain that's another blog post in itself.

Today was a lovely family day. There could never be enough of those. :)

Day 10: Together Again

I found this quote on Pinterest recently and I've fallen in love with it. Nothing delights my heart more than the thought of being with Avery and sharing my life with her. To think that she is aware of me and loves me as deeply as I love her brings me joy.

I am comforted by picturing her in Heaven, as a beautiful little girl, running and laughing through that field of wildflowers, like the kind that grow here along the roads as Spring rolls in, during golden hour when the sun is low and everything is bathed in a glorious light. In this daydream, she knows me. She remembers that she's mine. She's just my curious, excited daughter, running ahead to explore, trying to catch a butterfly that's almost as pretty as she is.

One day, my time will come and I will leave this world. I'll find myself at the edge of that field of flowers and my eyes will find my Avery, smiling and laughing. I will know her immediately because she is mine. Immediately my heart will be whole. She will turn around and her face will light up, brighter than Heaven's sky, when her eyes meet her mama's. She'll run toward me, her curls glowing. Then finally, I will take her in my arms once again, tears of awaited joy streaming down my face. Her embrace will erase all the earthly pain I have endured without her. It'll be just a foggy distant remnant of my brief life on Earth. Avery and I will walk off, hand in hand, to sing with the angels and bask in the company of Jesus.

This will be our eternity, together forever, a Heavenly family, slowly joined by all those we love, and finding those we've lost before. This endless time of perfect beauty will one day be reality. Avery is already a part of it, taking it all in. She's just waiting for me across the field.

Flashback : 1.21.11

Today, two years ago (two years already?!), we found out I was pregnant with Jude. I remember it so well, still. Such an amazing and unbelievable day.

It was so difficult, trying again for another baby, when we were supposed to be raising our little girl but weren't. The fear mixed with the excitement mixed with the frustration. Not only was I trying for something I was supposed to already have, it was taking longer than it should. For couple who struggle with infertility, I know nine cycles is a dream. But for me, who is supposedly "normal" is that department, it was just another nagging thing. I can't imagine being one of those women who get pregnant on the first try... or even on accident. I can't fathom how that's possible.

So today, two years ago, as soon as I got up that morning, I dragged Daniel into our bathroom and took a test. I wanted to just put myself out of my misery and see that we failed yet another month. I thought it would be easier for the test to tell me than to wait for my body to. We stood there for just seconds, it seemed, as the little hourglass displayed on the digital screen. Suddenly, there was just one beautiful and alarming, glorious and terrifying word: Pregnant. I couldn't believe it. I let out a joyful shriek and threw my arms around Daniel. It was the beginning of a lovely and scary journey that would end in both victory and defeat.

Pregnancy after loss is such a rollercoaster of emotions. In one moment, you can feel both excited and scared. Both confidence and doom. The bliss is gone, but there's still so much joy in carrying life again, in the same exact spot where there was so much loss. I remember I used to think about how strange it was to have Jude dancing around where Avery died. That his heart beat exactly where hers stopped. He is the only person to be in the very place where she lived, and the very place she passed away.

Her death saved his life... Her death is the reason he is even here, just as he is. I never would have gotten pregnant two Januaries ago if Avery had lived. She'd only be 2 1/2 right now if she'd made it to her due date, so I doubt we'd even have another baby by now. Even when we would give Avery a sibling, in this alternate universe where she never died, it wouldn't be the Jude we know now. He would be a completely different person. It's crazy to think of that. I'd never change Jude, but I wish Avery was here.

I'm so grateful how everything turned out with my second pregnancy, despite the new horrors that came with it. Standing in my bathroom with that positive test in my hand, I was not promised that our second baby would make it here alive. There was so much left to uncertainty. So much fear and worry. So much hope and joy. I've never prayed more in my life than I did when I was pregnant with Jude. Most days, I begged God for his life. I thank God He brought Jude here safely, even if it was too early and not the experience I dreamed of. I'm so glad this day in our history is still a happy day, the day we found out our boy was coming.

"Mighty glad you stayed..."

Fear and healing

I never dreamed fear could have a positive outcome. It has plagued me through so many seasons of my life in the past nearly three years. My fear has kept me from so much joy. It's caused anxiety, paranoia, and even hypochondria. But this time, my fear actually set me free.

How could that be? Fear is not from God. Perfect love drives out fear. (1 John 4:18) But in this case, I believe God used my greatest flaw -- my uncontrollable, sometimes paralyzing tendency to worry and fear -- to heal a very broken piece of my being.

This terrible, unnecessary fear set deep within me four days after Jude's seizure. He had a follow up appointment with his pediatrician two days after that horrific ordeal. Everything looked great, his ear infection had even cleared up already. Jude's doctor looked through the charts from the hospital and was not pleased with the practically inconclusive blood test results from the ER. They hadn't been able to get a good sample of Jude's blood so it clumped up a lot, throwing off some of the results. He wanted us to take Jude to get another complete blood count (CBC) just to be thorough. We did just that and I didn't think much of it because Jude seemed fine and it was just a precaution.

Two days after the test, Jude's doctor called me and told me that his levels were a bit off, some varying drastically since his ER lab results just two days prior. His platelets were low and so were his white blood cells. As soon as he mentioned white blood cells, my mind immediately shot to cancer. I felt so sick with worry. The doctor explained that he believed they were both low due to viral suppression from the high fever, seizure, and ear infection. He spoke to a hematologist, who happened to specialize in oncology, just to verify and she completely agreed with him but she wanted Jude to get retested in two weeks to make sure his levels returned to normal. Cue the longest, most fearful two weeks of my life (well... Since the 31 weeks I was pregnant with Jude).

Before hanging up with Jude's doctor that afternoon, he assured me it wasn't time to worry. He expressed his belief that it couldn't be due to any cancer (because you know I asked him about it!) but he confessed his concern. When I hung up, I was close to tears and felt no peace at all. There was no way I could refrain from worrying.

All day, I had a knot in my stomach and that night, after Jude went to bed, I couldn't stop crying. I couldn't help but imagine his next results being no better or even worse. What would it mean? What if something was horribly wrong inside his little body? What if the seizure was a gift from God, so we could find out something was wrong with him before it was too late? All of these morbid fears forced their way into my thoughts. My imagination reeled with sickening visions of losing my baby. I suddenly felt like I was no longer guaranteed a life with my son. I felt like all my mothering duties may be temporary. It was a sick and awful feeling and I tried so hard to push it all away. But over the two weeks, it kept rearing its ugly head.

During that time, Jude started cutting two molars and one incisor all at once. Before we realized this, Jude's appetite changed and he wasn't eating well. Of course, my fear caused me to think something was wrong with him, that he was getting sick from whatever horrific thing was brewing inside him. Noticing the swollen gums, I felt some relief but nearly everyday, Daniel had to convince me that Jude was okay for one reason or another.

For those two long weeks, I felt like I was holding my breath. I was dreading the day we'd have to take Jude back for more blood work. I was dreading the phone call that would proceed. I imagined how my stomach would drop when my phone would ring and I'd see Jude's doctor on my caller ID. I pictured our conversation going so many ways, but naturally, against my will, what I pictured always left me feeling sick to my stomach. But then there was another side of me that couldn't wait to get it all over with. I wanted to be able to really enjoy the Christmas season and I couldn't manage to really do that with all of the fearful unknown looming over my head.

Finally, the day came and went. I prayed so much everyday leading up to it that Jude was healthy and strong. And he is. I burst into tears of relief on the phone with Jude's doctor. He knows me well enough by now and was not surprised by my reaction.

I believed in my heart that Jude was fine but my fear kept telling me I was wrong. It kept whispering ugly lies and planting that seed of worry. It really ate a hole. It festered and tormented. It was so unbearable at times. I felt so weak. I was disappointed in myself for folding so easily. Like it didn't take much for me to fall apart. That I couldn't face the situation with faith and trust, boldly and gracefully holding my head high like a dignified woman of God. But after weighing all of the things I've suffered through concerning my children, I decided to give myself a break. It's okay to be scarred by what's happened to me. I need to be patient with myself. It will take time to live confidently and to shake that paranoia.

So how did all of this fear and obsessive worry actually benefit me? During all of the stress, I kept thinking to myself how hard it was to worry so much about one person. To have so much of my heart, life, and love invested in one person. If I had to worry so much about the well-being of just one person, how could I manage that much more worry for the well-being of even more? The way I started to see it, the more children you have, the higher the chance of something awful happening to one of them. And half of my children are already dead so the odds don't look so hot. Morbid "humor" aside, I think I've endured too much for my heart to handle worrying for so many lives. I carry enough concern for Jude.

The other way the fear helped was in how much I despised the way our normal life twisted into a huge fear fest. I desperately wanted to return to our normal days. I wanted our old life. I missed it. I missed my biggest problem being how I couldn't have all the kids I wanted to have. I decided I'd gladly take that problem over there being something wrong with Jude. I willingly surrender the dreams of my future children for Jude in all his perfection. I'd much rather have "just" him than the possibility of others.

For the first time since I found out I couldn't have any more children, I am content with it. I never thought I would say that. That is the healing the fear brought. It was the lesson it taught me. Jude is enough. He has always been enough but I always longed for more as well. Now, I'm okay. Of course I would have a few more children if things were different and I still wish that were so, but It's okay that I won't have Jonah or Uriah or Ezra (a new beautiful favorite). It feels amazing to accept that. I feel more whole than I have felt in a long time. If it was even possible to love Jude more than I already did, I do.

I feel like the wounds from the babies that were taken away (past and future) have finally stopped bleeding. I feel like I can live my life now. Like I can be happy. That I don't have to be defined by my grief or my suffering. Yes, I am a baby loss mom. Yes, I have two children. Yes, my daughter is in Heaven. But I cannot live in that devastation anymore. Life is beautiful. My family is beautiful. I have so much, despite what I've lost. I know the Glory of God and the love of a husband and son. With humbled and gracious tears in my eyes, I know full well that I am blessed.

 

 

 



The last year of my twenties

I turned 29 today.

I don't believe 29 is old. That's not the shock. The shock is that I'm here already, with just one year left of my twenties. How did time go that quickly? Where did all those years go? Every year goes by quicker than the one before. As we get older, birthdays lose that touch of magic. But even so, I still enjoy being special for the day. I don't think anyone outgrows that.

Daniel and I picked up some lunch and took Jude to the park. This was his second time ever at the park. But this was his first time to go on the swings. He loved it! He would just laugh and laugh as we pushed him. Watching him experience that joy and hearing his sweet laughter was the best gift I could ever receive on my birthday.

We went to Chilis for dinner with my parents and my brothers. Jude drank from a straw for the first time! He's learning so much so quickly. He's so smart. I loved that he had a few firsts on my birthday. It made it even more special.

 

Yes, I love my new iPad (thanks, Mom and Dad!!!) but the real gift is my family. My sweet, loving husband, my amazing miracle son, my supportive, wonderful parents, my awesome brothers who are more like friends... I've lost a lot but I also have a lot. I nearly lost my life twice last summer, and I've lived to see two more birthdays since. God takes care of us. His hand is on our life. It's easy to focus on what we lack and what we long for, but I never want to forget the blessings that grace us.

 



Capture Your Grief : Day 13 // Signs

For me personally, I don't believe that Avery is at all here on this Earth, not any more than forever being a part of Daniel and me. I don't think she can physically show me signs or speak to me in any way. I'm not speaking against other people that believe in these things for their children. There's nothing wrong with that. It's just not how I see my daughter. But I would like to think that she is aware of us and that God lets her see how loved she is. I know she is in Heaven, and nowhere else, waiting for us. Saving us a place. And I would like to think that it's God that gives us signs to remind us that our sweet girl is up there with Him, safe in His embrace, loving us and waiting for the day we can be together again.

If God does send me signs that Avery loves us from above, I think it's the little butterflies, appearing for just moments, fluttering among the flowers in my yard, or along the street as I pass by in my car, or passing by me so delicately as I walk. God knows they make me think of my girl. And maybe he sends them by to show me that my girl is thinking of me.

Capture Your Grief : Day 6 // What not to say

I've had to sit and think for a long while about all the things I wish I didn't hear when Avery first died. I chose "It was God's will" because I feel it caused the most internal damage, though all of the ignorant comments still hurt. I had a hard enough time struggling with my faith and feeling angry at God. When people told me Avery's death was 'God's will' or 'He had a purpose' for it, it felt like they were saying, "God chose to kill your baby. He wanted her to die." Obviously, I know this isn't true, but when you are drowning in the ugliest despair and feeling forsaken, it might as well be. I know God loves me and His hand is on my life. He knew Avery would die, but I don't believe He chose it. Terrible things happen as a result of being a part of this fallen, evil world. It just comes with the territory. For me, hearing that God orchestrated the most horrific nightmare of my life was in no way comforting. It just made my anger worse. I did not want to be in a place where I blamed God for taking Avery. But being told "God had a reason" just exacerbated those thoughts to no end and pushed me further from Him and His healing.

Sadly, it was hard to choose just one statement, because inevitably, careless words always seem to find a  way. I understand that the death of a baby is a very difficult thing to watch someone you know go through, and it's not easy to find the right words. But honestly, a simple "Sorry" will always suffice. A little extra thought and care about your words can help so much.

 I used to write blog posts in my head about 'what not to say.' For some reason, it never happened. I guess this is my chance to share the things I wish I never heard.

This too shall pass.

We've recently experienced tragedy as well because our puppy just died.

At least Daniel doesn't have cancer or something.

Everything happens for a reason.

This will give you such a great sense of appreciation for life.

Maybe something would have been wrong with her if she'd lived.

You'll have another baby.

I can't even imagine THAT.

You have to get over this.

Don't you think you should keep her photos private? People may find them graphic and disturbing.

Was all that pain worth it??

Having a living baby is hard too.

And then the things spoken behind my back that got to me anyway... (I was unsure of whether or not I should share these, but decided to go for it.)

Nicole needs therapy.

Avery doesn't count because she didn't survive.

Don't let her watch your kids, she might hurt them or steal them.

Nicole is dangerous.

I was surprised she was nice to my baby.

How could she still miss her? She never got to know her.


I also came to find, it's almost more painful when they say nothing at all.