One month. That's all its been. Sometimes it feels like a lifetime and other times it feels like it was yesterday.
Physically things are back to normal. My energy is back. My hormones have leveled. The bleeding has stopped, lasting only a week. There was one part of me that kept wishing the bleeding would stop and the other part of me that exclaimed, "Only a week?! That's all I get?" Silly, I know. But most of my emotions have been like that. Opposite of one another, felt at almost the same time.
When the kids are acting crazy, I find myself relieved to not be expecting another child. "There is no way I could handle that." Then two seconds later, I find myself wishing that Judah was here amidst all of it. "We would have made do."
I find myself enjoying my children, loving the two of them and their crazy antics. Then saddened that there are only two that I am enjoying.
I see newborn babies and am relieved that I am not amidst the sleepless nights (oh wait, I still am). But then, I sigh, and wish I was the one snuggling that adorable infant.
I find myself relieved to be able to participate in advent activities without being sick but saddened that we are missing a member of our family.
Some days I can talk nonchalant about the fact that I've had a miscarriage. Then other days, I talk, but my soul is screaming, "This isn't fair!"
I find my heart sighing, "Oh Judah" on a regular basis. In those moments when my heart is sad that Judah is not with us, I sigh, "Oh Judah." In those moments when I wish he was here with Joel and Micah filling my house with laughter and trouble, I sigh, "Oh Judah." In those moments of relief, when I feel overwhelmed by the life I have, I sigh, "Oh Judah."
Real tears are rare. I think this sigh is my heart crying. Crying out for injustice. Crying out prayers. Crying out thankfulness.
I'm pretty much a big bi-polar mess. And I'm okay with that. I'm mourning. My heart longs for my child that is no longer here.
People have asked us if we want to start trying for our next child right away, instead of waiting like we had planned. Yes, we want another child. But right now, we need to wait. Medically, we have to wait at least another month before trying for another child. But more than that, we need our hearts to heal. We need time to mourn. Time to work through our fears. If God planned another child sooner than we expect, we will welcome it with open arms, just like we welcomed Judah. But is another child on our radar right now? No. Do I long for newborn snuggles? Yes. But for now, I will snuggle our friends and family's little ones. I will hold my two little boys tight, loving them the only way I know how. Its been one month. One crazy month.
So when Joel asks me, "Mommy are you sad?" I can say yes. Yes, I am sad. And when he says, "Is that because the baby is with Jesus?" I will say yes. When Joel tells me that the baby is no longer in his tummy, I sigh silently, my heart crying, "Oh Judah." Then I wrap Joel up in my arms, snuggle him close and thank God for my kids. All three of them.
Saturday, November 30, 2013
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Put on your courage belt
Every Sunday, our day begins the same. Okay, not really. The same sort of things go on, in various orders and speeds. The last few weeks though, before we leave for church, Joel grabs his cardboard guitar, starts singing and insists that he is going to the front of the church to sing. He loves singing and playing guitar. But every week, he gets to church and the fear takes over. You can see it in his face, he is just terrified to be there. So he doesn't go. This week when I asked him about it, he said, "I scared mommy."
Its something that resonates with both Dan and I. We both grew up in a church that didn't necessarily encourage children to "be" children. Kids were expected to sit in their seat, or go to nursery and generally behave or they would be removed from the sanctuary. While this is a part of disciplining your child and a part of learning how to act in church, there always seemed like there was no room for exploration. But something that Dan and I want to instill in our children is the opportunity to be themselves. They don't always have to follow the crowd. They can be themselves and be a part of the church. One of the many reasons I love this church is that kids are encouraged to participate and to be themselves.
I heard a story of a child who at the age of three started to shadow his mother on stage while she sang and played guitar on worship team. He took his toy guitar and played next to her on Sundays. He is now a confident young adult who leads worship and plays in a band.
Its not that I expect Joel to be musical. I just want him to be confident in who he is and the abilities he has. So this Sunday, during worship, I told Joel to put on his courage belt. I turned around to look at Micah and by the time I turned back, Joel was gone. I asked Dan where he was. Joel was at the front of the church, standing beside Irmgard who was playing piano. He stood there the entire time. He watched Irmgard play. I could see the wheels turning as he stared at the keys, wondering how they made noise. He inched close to the keys, wanting to touch, but knowing that it was inappropriate. He sat when she told him to sit and stood during the singing. He wasn't too distracting just curious. Irmgard was amazing with him (thanks again!) and he really seem engaged in the music. He was so interested in Irmgard and the piano that he refused to go to children's feature. I tried to engage him in the story, but he ran back to the piano. This kid knows what he wants!
Later that night, when I asked him about his day, he reenacted the entire situation. He told me that he "ran down the hill (the church has a slight slope to it) and ran to the big black thing. The big black thing (ahem...piano) made lots of noise. Irmgard told me sit down. I sit. I watch them play guitar. I sing songs. Big black thing make LOTS of noise."
He keeps talking about it (which means he had a lot of fun). I hope that with a little encouragement, Joel can conquer his fears. He has always been his own person (as well as a little shy and timid), answering questions in a way I don't expect (eg. Holding 3 items: how many do I have? Instead of answering three, he'll say lots). Or doing things that I haven't seen many kids his own age doing (like dressing up as an anemometer). I hope to foster his creativity and imagination. I hope to encourage him to be the person that God has created him to be (even if its embarrassing, cringe-worthy, or goes against the way I was raised). He needs to be himself. He isn't me or Dan. He is Joel. And we love him.
Its something that resonates with both Dan and I. We both grew up in a church that didn't necessarily encourage children to "be" children. Kids were expected to sit in their seat, or go to nursery and generally behave or they would be removed from the sanctuary. While this is a part of disciplining your child and a part of learning how to act in church, there always seemed like there was no room for exploration. But something that Dan and I want to instill in our children is the opportunity to be themselves. They don't always have to follow the crowd. They can be themselves and be a part of the church. One of the many reasons I love this church is that kids are encouraged to participate and to be themselves.
I heard a story of a child who at the age of three started to shadow his mother on stage while she sang and played guitar on worship team. He took his toy guitar and played next to her on Sundays. He is now a confident young adult who leads worship and plays in a band.
Its not that I expect Joel to be musical. I just want him to be confident in who he is and the abilities he has. So this Sunday, during worship, I told Joel to put on his courage belt. I turned around to look at Micah and by the time I turned back, Joel was gone. I asked Dan where he was. Joel was at the front of the church, standing beside Irmgard who was playing piano. He stood there the entire time. He watched Irmgard play. I could see the wheels turning as he stared at the keys, wondering how they made noise. He inched close to the keys, wanting to touch, but knowing that it was inappropriate. He sat when she told him to sit and stood during the singing. He wasn't too distracting just curious. Irmgard was amazing with him (thanks again!) and he really seem engaged in the music. He was so interested in Irmgard and the piano that he refused to go to children's feature. I tried to engage him in the story, but he ran back to the piano. This kid knows what he wants!
Later that night, when I asked him about his day, he reenacted the entire situation. He told me that he "ran down the hill (the church has a slight slope to it) and ran to the big black thing. The big black thing (ahem...piano) made lots of noise. Irmgard told me sit down. I sit. I watch them play guitar. I sing songs. Big black thing make LOTS of noise."
He keeps talking about it (which means he had a lot of fun). I hope that with a little encouragement, Joel can conquer his fears. He has always been his own person (as well as a little shy and timid), answering questions in a way I don't expect (eg. Holding 3 items: how many do I have? Instead of answering three, he'll say lots). Or doing things that I haven't seen many kids his own age doing (like dressing up as an anemometer). I hope to foster his creativity and imagination. I hope to encourage him to be the person that God has created him to be (even if its embarrassing, cringe-worthy, or goes against the way I was raised). He needs to be himself. He isn't me or Dan. He is Joel. And we love him.
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Kuya Boyet
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| L-R: Joel, Kathleen, Amanda, Boyet, Dan, Marijke, Stan |
What a blessing this weekend was. Boyet is humorous, joking that the only food that he doesn't like is small food. (You know, small amounts of food). That is my kind of house guest!
He told us about his two wives. He waits for the stunned silence before explaining that his first wife is asleep, and that he jokes with his second wife to 'keep it down' since his first wife is sleeping.
Aside from the humour, his passion for his work and his people was evident. When asked about the recent typhoon that hit the Philippines, he said a few words and then was silent. As a small group of new friends gathered around the table at our house on Saturday evening, we could tell that his heart was burdened. Holding back emotions and perhaps even a few tears, he explained that he was still processing the situation.
At the end of the evening, we gathered together to pray for one another. Kuya Boyet had us hold hands of the person, not directly next to us, but the person next to that (so every second person was holding hands). He had us hold hands behind our backs. He explained that this was a way to support one another. If a person was not strong enough to hold on, his friends to the right and left, who's hands were held behind him, would hold him up and keep him in the group. It was a beautiful example of community support.
Sunday School was another highlight for me. Kuya Boyet asked a simple question, "How would you like someone to support you when you are in need?" The answers ranged from giving hugs, to listening, supporting me, holding my hand etc. It made me think that when we are struggling, we really need community to support us. To help us process our grief. To be with us. I can only imagine that the Filipinos who suffered through the typhoon need the same thing. Yes, food and water are also needed. But more than that, they need to process their grief, to feel supported, and to have someone hold their hand and cry with them. Sadly, this is easier done in person. Which is a sad realization that I've had when I ask, "What can I do to help?"
It was a pleasure to meet Kuya Boyet. We hope and pray that he felt supported by the community we have here. We sent Darnell and Christina only eighteen months ago to the Philippines to build Peace Church and we hope and pray that we will continue to support one another in this journey.
Friday, November 22, 2013
2 Hours, Six Bucks...
...and our annual winter trip to the ER later, we discover Micah is fine.
You see, Micah fell off the bench in his room. No biggie.
Until, I discovered the blood POURING out of his mouth. This picture doesn't even do it justice.
He actually bit right through his chin. Yep. A hole right into his mouth. Gross. (like yogurt from in his mouth can seep out onto his chin when his mouth is closed)
He didn't need stitches or anything. The hole pretty much sealed itself. Plus, the doctor said that the skin doesn't pull the gash apart, so self healing is better than stitches. Excellent!
The only problem with this? The annual winter ER visit. This is getting ridiculous. For some reason, we've had four years in a row of winter ER visits and all for fairly silly reasons (which I'm grateful for. Rather silly reasons that deadly ones). It all started with Joel's infected finger when he was 15 days old. He was hospitalized for a few days while they treated him with antibiotics. Then Dan burnt his arm. The next year was stitches on Micah's finger after he got his finger stuck in tongs. And now, Micah's chin is split in two. Luckily, it has resulted in NO medical interventions.
(Believe me, the relief was huge. Not only because we didn't need stitches or antibiotics, but because after the last round of antibiotics, Micah woke up every 45 minutes for almost 4 months. I was fearful that my future would be filled with the same. So I am grateful that he is okay and sleeping through the night. Have I mentioned that yet? Sleeping through the night! Double win!)
Now, if only we could break this winter tradition. That would be nice.
You see, Micah fell off the bench in his room. No biggie.
Until, I discovered the blood POURING out of his mouth. This picture doesn't even do it justice.
He actually bit right through his chin. Yep. A hole right into his mouth. Gross. (like yogurt from in his mouth can seep out onto his chin when his mouth is closed)
He didn't need stitches or anything. The hole pretty much sealed itself. Plus, the doctor said that the skin doesn't pull the gash apart, so self healing is better than stitches. Excellent!
The only problem with this? The annual winter ER visit. This is getting ridiculous. For some reason, we've had four years in a row of winter ER visits and all for fairly silly reasons (which I'm grateful for. Rather silly reasons that deadly ones). It all started with Joel's infected finger when he was 15 days old. He was hospitalized for a few days while they treated him with antibiotics. Then Dan burnt his arm. The next year was stitches on Micah's finger after he got his finger stuck in tongs. And now, Micah's chin is split in two. Luckily, it has resulted in NO medical interventions.
(Believe me, the relief was huge. Not only because we didn't need stitches or antibiotics, but because after the last round of antibiotics, Micah woke up every 45 minutes for almost 4 months. I was fearful that my future would be filled with the same. So I am grateful that he is okay and sleeping through the night. Have I mentioned that yet? Sleeping through the night! Double win!)
Now, if only we could break this winter tradition. That would be nice.
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Othello Tunnels
After Flood Falls, we went to the Othello Tunnels. They were closed due to rock fall hazard. But we made the best of a bad situation and enjoyed our time there.
Both boys hitched a ride on Dan and my mom. Joel decided that he had to hold Micah's hand.
Such a sweet thing. Those boys holding hands. Now that's love.
Monday, November 18, 2013
Flood Falls
We took the opportunity on the holiday Monday to go for a small hike at Flood Falls in Hope B.C.
It was a short hike to a small waterfall.
It was a beautiful quiet serene spot (until a bunch of people showed up).
The boys loved throwing rocks into the pool of water. They could do that all day if we let them. But Dan and I got in on the action, throwing huge rocks in the pool. The boys loved watching the splashes.
My mom came with us to join in the fun.
The two of us climbed up the mountain like a pair of mountain goats.
It was a nice trail, easy for the kids to climb.
Family Picture
Licorice Root....yum!
Saturday, November 16, 2013
Overwhelmingly Blessed
We are blessed. Overwhelmingly blessed. These past few weeks have been a roller coaster for our family. We have felt the highs and the lows. We have gone on with normal life, yet stopped at times to mourn.
We have been blessed by a young mom who came over in the midst of the turmoil, to put Joel down for his nap. She put him back in his bed, repeatedly, since it was too exhausting for me to walk down the hall. We have been blessed.
We have been blessed by a friend who even though was dealing with the flu, texted repeatedly with encouraging words, until she recovered enough to be here in person. She listened to the same sentiments over and over, yet still found the words to bless. We have been blessed.
We were blessed by a family whose lives were preparing for a trip, yet found the time to drop off a meal. We have been blessed.
We have been blessed by a family who from across the world, preparing for a typhoon of the century, took time out to skype with us. They asked us some hard questions, that the answers we were dying to share with someone. They allowed us to share some of the intimate details, all while we wrangled 4 kids between us. We have been blessed.
We have been blessed by a couple living far away, who joined us for dinner via skype. They made us feel so loved as they talked with our children and us. They talked about daily life, which made us feel normal again. We have been blessed.
We have been blessed by a car-less couple who live a distance away, who begged, borrowed or stole (okay maybe not the last one) a vehicle so they could bring lunch to us. We have been blessed.
We have been blessed by a son, whose empathetic skills are outstanding. He would stop what he is doing to ask, Mommy are you sad? Is it because the baby is with Jesus? I would reply yes, and he would wrap his arms around me with a huge hug. We have been blessed.
We have been blessed by that same son, who would pull out this cute routine at just the right moment. A pound it, a kiss and a hug. We would follow with a tickle. Giggles and love would ensue. We have been blessed.
We have been blessed by a grandma who gave up her afternoon to sit in a quiet house while two children slept so I could go to an appointment without disturbing their sleep. As quickly and quietly as she came, she left. We have been blessed.
We have been blessed by an aunt who called to share her story and encourage us through our journey. We have been blessed.
We have been blessed by a mom who gave up two consecutive nights to hang out with the boys so we could have date night. We have been blessed.
We have been blessed by a little boy who crawls up to us and snuggles, just because. We have been blessed.
We have felt overwhelmingly blessed by our friends and family. We have needed the prayers of the saints, the hands and feet of Jesus and the heart of God. Thank you for mourning with us.
We have been blessed by a young mom who came over in the midst of the turmoil, to put Joel down for his nap. She put him back in his bed, repeatedly, since it was too exhausting for me to walk down the hall. We have been blessed.
We have been blessed by a friend who even though was dealing with the flu, texted repeatedly with encouraging words, until she recovered enough to be here in person. She listened to the same sentiments over and over, yet still found the words to bless. We have been blessed.
We were blessed by a family whose lives were preparing for a trip, yet found the time to drop off a meal. We have been blessed.
We have been blessed by a family who from across the world, preparing for a typhoon of the century, took time out to skype with us. They asked us some hard questions, that the answers we were dying to share with someone. They allowed us to share some of the intimate details, all while we wrangled 4 kids between us. We have been blessed.
We have been blessed by a couple living far away, who joined us for dinner via skype. They made us feel so loved as they talked with our children and us. They talked about daily life, which made us feel normal again. We have been blessed.
We have been blessed by a car-less couple who live a distance away, who begged, borrowed or stole (okay maybe not the last one) a vehicle so they could bring lunch to us. We have been blessed.
We have been blessed by a son, whose empathetic skills are outstanding. He would stop what he is doing to ask, Mommy are you sad? Is it because the baby is with Jesus? I would reply yes, and he would wrap his arms around me with a huge hug. We have been blessed.
We have been blessed by that same son, who would pull out this cute routine at just the right moment. A pound it, a kiss and a hug. We would follow with a tickle. Giggles and love would ensue. We have been blessed.
We have been blessed by a grandma who gave up her afternoon to sit in a quiet house while two children slept so I could go to an appointment without disturbing their sleep. As quickly and quietly as she came, she left. We have been blessed.
We have been blessed by an aunt who called to share her story and encourage us through our journey. We have been blessed.
We have been blessed by a mom who gave up two consecutive nights to hang out with the boys so we could have date night. We have been blessed.
We have been blessed by a little boy who crawls up to us and snuggles, just because. We have been blessed.
We have felt overwhelmingly blessed by our friends and family. We have needed the prayers of the saints, the hands and feet of Jesus and the heart of God. Thank you for mourning with us.
Friday, November 15, 2013
Special Sunday Dinner
This past week we decided to have a special Sunday dinner. A picnic in the living room, Extreme Nachos for dinner and Finding Nemo on the telly.
This is what memories are made of.
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Guitar Boys
I made Joel a guitar out of cardboard and elastic bands. He LOVES it.
I made Micah a shaker--he's sort of indifferent about it.
These two rock out together on a regular basis.
Sometimes Joel likes to change it up a bit and play the "jello" aka cello. He knows its called the cello, but refuses to call it that. So jello it is!
Joel loves music, especially Jacob Moon (his favorite singer). Getting to play guitar and rock out to Jacob Moon is one of his favorite activities.
Monday, November 11, 2013
Silly Boys
In the cabinet
Mr. Fix-it
Fun on the Blanket
Joel found our old car seat and wanted a ride
Laughter
Reading books under the table
Thursday, November 7, 2013
Judah's Story
It came as a surprise. And as quickly as we had accepted it, it was gone.
I knew I was pregnant the moment I walked into the grocery store for apples and bananas and walked out with a box of oranges instead. Oranges are my cheap pregnancy test, when I like them, I'm pregnant. When I don't, I'm not. A pregnancy test confirmed it. I am pregnant! I remember peeing on the stick, not looking at it and placing it on the counter. I prayed to God, placing the results in his hands. If this is what He envisioned, then let it be so. Just give us peace about it. Two minutes later, I picked up the test, took a deep breath, and saw two lines staring back at me. We were pregnant with our third child! We were surprised by the realization. It was not something we were planning, nor could we figure out when it happened. One night, Dan and I sat down with a calendar to try and figure out when we conceived. Nothing was adding up. But we didn't care. Surprise turned to excitement and research. What would life be like with three little ones? How would we handle a three and a half year old, a two year old and a newborn baby? What is the best configuration for car seats? How do you go grocery shopping? All of these trivial day to day things with three kids seemed overwhelming. But somehow we would make it work. We started to picture what life would be like with three little ones. We knew it would be hard, but we were excited.
But as quickly as it came. It was gone. I suspected things might be headed south when I was peeling an orange for the kids and it churned my stomach. It didn't smell good (and that's not normal). But maybe things are different for this pregnancy, I rationalized. I really started to suspect things were wrong when the "suspected" six week mark came and I wasn't throwing up (with both previous pregnancies, I began throwing up at exactly six weeks). But I didn't want to believe that this was happening. My energy was high, but maybe I'm just healthier this time, I hoped. It was none of these things. My HCG (the pregnancy hormone) levels were low- only a 17. A seventeen symbolizes three to four weeks along in the pregnancy. But perhaps my dates were wrong. Maybe we conceived later. A test four days later and my levels were 19. They are supposed to double every 24 hours. My heart dropped. Its true. I am having a miscarriage.
We were in shock. Something that surprised us only a few weeks ago, was surprising us again. Our surprise and excitement has turned to sadness and grief. We are in disbelief. There was nothing we could have done to prevent this. Miscarriage is common. And although miscarriage is something that happens to woman all the time, it is not a common thing to me. This is my first miscarriage and will hopefully be my last. And it sucks.
Emotionally, we are coping. We have periods of sadness. We spend time crying and mourning. We have been surrounded by great friends and family who are supporting us through this ordeal.
Physically, having a miscarriage has been tough. My hormones have spent time believing they are pregnant and that they have just given birth. I am exhausted. Walking down the hall leaves me winded. My hormones have been out of control. The morning after we got our second set of HCG levels, and we realized that we were miscarrying, I was a hormonal mess. The kids would look at me and I would yell. I was almost uncontrollably angry. I admit, I wish I could erase that morning from my memory. I yelled at my kids more than I care to admit. I know it was the hormones. I just wish I didn't have to deal with that. Following that morning, was a very tearful afternoon. Dan was telling me about his day, as tears streamed down my face. I couldn't control the sadness. I collapsed into Dan's arms heaving and crying. Yes, I was sad, but this was uncontrollable. I couldn't stop the tears if I tried. I have to admit, that the hormones have been the worst part of this whole situation. I can deal with the loss. I can deal with my emotions. But the hormones.....they suck. I don't think I was prepared for them.
The next day, I woke up and the bleeding had began. There is nothing quite like staring at pieces of your unborn child's lifeline escaping your body. At least the hormones had leveled out a bit.
A few days later, I went to my ultrasound. It was scheduled a few days after my positive pregnancy test. It was supposed to date our pregnancy. This was the day we would find out when our baby would join our family. Perhaps we would get to hear the baby's heartbeat. It was a day Dan and I were looking forward to. Instead, I sat in that waiting room alone. Barely holding myself together. I was surrounded by pregnant ladies, some larger than others. Excitement filled their faces, but mine was full of grief. My technician seemed hard of listening. I repeated told her that I had miscarried, yet she kept asking me if I was excited about my pregnancy, what number baby this was, and the kicker, to have a good day. Did she not just probe my empty womb? Didn't I see her face fall to that stoic expression when she failed to see a baby in my uterus? But have a good day. I'll try lady. I held myself together enough to get to the van before I imploded in a heap of tears. There was nothing left. I cried until I could cry no longer. Then I drove home to relieve Gran-Gran of her babysitting duties.
Right now, we are coping. We take it day by day. This is our first experience and we may look back at it and wonder how we coped or we may look back and wonder why it was such a big deal. But we are doing what we feel is right for our family as we cope with something that is new to us. We have never dealt with this before, so we have chosen to deal with it in this manner.
Writing is therapeutic for me. So I write. We went to listen to music at the church the other night. It soothed our souls.
One day shy of two weeks. That's all we had. From the moment we discovered this pregnancy, to the moment we found out that it was no longer. Its not long. The baby was only the size of a lentil. But there is a part of me that doesn't want to forget this little life that we had. For our own healing purposes, we've decided to name this child. I don't want these two weeks to be forgotten. I've told Dan, that if we name this child, it will be etched in my memory. I can call this baby by name. I can remember that it wasn't a situation, but a life. (Yes, I may look back at this wonder why it was so important to me, but it is right now. And I'm going to name this child, so I can cope with the situation we are facing). Needless to say, we have decided to name this child:
I knew I was pregnant the moment I walked into the grocery store for apples and bananas and walked out with a box of oranges instead. Oranges are my cheap pregnancy test, when I like them, I'm pregnant. When I don't, I'm not. A pregnancy test confirmed it. I am pregnant! I remember peeing on the stick, not looking at it and placing it on the counter. I prayed to God, placing the results in his hands. If this is what He envisioned, then let it be so. Just give us peace about it. Two minutes later, I picked up the test, took a deep breath, and saw two lines staring back at me. We were pregnant with our third child! We were surprised by the realization. It was not something we were planning, nor could we figure out when it happened. One night, Dan and I sat down with a calendar to try and figure out when we conceived. Nothing was adding up. But we didn't care. Surprise turned to excitement and research. What would life be like with three little ones? How would we handle a three and a half year old, a two year old and a newborn baby? What is the best configuration for car seats? How do you go grocery shopping? All of these trivial day to day things with three kids seemed overwhelming. But somehow we would make it work. We started to picture what life would be like with three little ones. We knew it would be hard, but we were excited.
But as quickly as it came. It was gone. I suspected things might be headed south when I was peeling an orange for the kids and it churned my stomach. It didn't smell good (and that's not normal). But maybe things are different for this pregnancy, I rationalized. I really started to suspect things were wrong when the "suspected" six week mark came and I wasn't throwing up (with both previous pregnancies, I began throwing up at exactly six weeks). But I didn't want to believe that this was happening. My energy was high, but maybe I'm just healthier this time, I hoped. It was none of these things. My HCG (the pregnancy hormone) levels were low- only a 17. A seventeen symbolizes three to four weeks along in the pregnancy. But perhaps my dates were wrong. Maybe we conceived later. A test four days later and my levels were 19. They are supposed to double every 24 hours. My heart dropped. Its true. I am having a miscarriage.
We were in shock. Something that surprised us only a few weeks ago, was surprising us again. Our surprise and excitement has turned to sadness and grief. We are in disbelief. There was nothing we could have done to prevent this. Miscarriage is common. And although miscarriage is something that happens to woman all the time, it is not a common thing to me. This is my first miscarriage and will hopefully be my last. And it sucks.
Emotionally, we are coping. We have periods of sadness. We spend time crying and mourning. We have been surrounded by great friends and family who are supporting us through this ordeal.
Physically, having a miscarriage has been tough. My hormones have spent time believing they are pregnant and that they have just given birth. I am exhausted. Walking down the hall leaves me winded. My hormones have been out of control. The morning after we got our second set of HCG levels, and we realized that we were miscarrying, I was a hormonal mess. The kids would look at me and I would yell. I was almost uncontrollably angry. I admit, I wish I could erase that morning from my memory. I yelled at my kids more than I care to admit. I know it was the hormones. I just wish I didn't have to deal with that. Following that morning, was a very tearful afternoon. Dan was telling me about his day, as tears streamed down my face. I couldn't control the sadness. I collapsed into Dan's arms heaving and crying. Yes, I was sad, but this was uncontrollable. I couldn't stop the tears if I tried. I have to admit, that the hormones have been the worst part of this whole situation. I can deal with the loss. I can deal with my emotions. But the hormones.....they suck. I don't think I was prepared for them.
The next day, I woke up and the bleeding had began. There is nothing quite like staring at pieces of your unborn child's lifeline escaping your body. At least the hormones had leveled out a bit.
A few days later, I went to my ultrasound. It was scheduled a few days after my positive pregnancy test. It was supposed to date our pregnancy. This was the day we would find out when our baby would join our family. Perhaps we would get to hear the baby's heartbeat. It was a day Dan and I were looking forward to. Instead, I sat in that waiting room alone. Barely holding myself together. I was surrounded by pregnant ladies, some larger than others. Excitement filled their faces, but mine was full of grief. My technician seemed hard of listening. I repeated told her that I had miscarried, yet she kept asking me if I was excited about my pregnancy, what number baby this was, and the kicker, to have a good day. Did she not just probe my empty womb? Didn't I see her face fall to that stoic expression when she failed to see a baby in my uterus? But have a good day. I'll try lady. I held myself together enough to get to the van before I imploded in a heap of tears. There was nothing left. I cried until I could cry no longer. Then I drove home to relieve Gran-Gran of her babysitting duties.
Right now, we are coping. We take it day by day. This is our first experience and we may look back at it and wonder how we coped or we may look back and wonder why it was such a big deal. But we are doing what we feel is right for our family as we cope with something that is new to us. We have never dealt with this before, so we have chosen to deal with it in this manner.
Writing is therapeutic for me. So I write. We went to listen to music at the church the other night. It soothed our souls.
One day shy of two weeks. That's all we had. From the moment we discovered this pregnancy, to the moment we found out that it was no longer. Its not long. The baby was only the size of a lentil. But there is a part of me that doesn't want to forget this little life that we had. For our own healing purposes, we've decided to name this child. I don't want these two weeks to be forgotten. I've told Dan, that if we name this child, it will be etched in my memory. I can call this baby by name. I can remember that it wasn't a situation, but a life. (Yes, I may look back at this wonder why it was so important to me, but it is right now. And I'm going to name this child, so I can cope with the situation we are facing). Needless to say, we have decided to name this child:
Judah Malachi
Judah meaning, "Praise"
Malachi meaning, "an angel or a messenger"
We don't know the gender of this child, but we don't mind. These names were placed on our hearts, so we've decided that they are a perfect fit for our child.
We wish we weren't in this situation. Both of us are struggling. We find it difficult to reach out. Not because we don't need help or feel that we can't ask for it. We want all the help we can get. But we find it difficult to say those words. To share why we need help. We're having a miscarriage. Just writing those words make me cringe. I don't like them. We have lost a child and that's a hard enough situation, but having to repeat those words over and over again are exhausting. We've held on to this secret for a while, not because we don't want the support of our friends and family. But because we can't get those words out. We don't know how to tell people. The pregnancy was a surprise, but a joyful one. This miscarriage was also a surprise, but a terribly sad and frustrating one. We have suffered a loss, and don't want to suffer alone. But we aren't sure of how to go about getting the word out, without having to say that terrible word over and over again.
For now, we are clinging to the hope and peace we have in Christ. We hold on to those moments as a family where we feel the all encompassing love to God. We still laugh at our boys. Joel is convinced that he has a baby in his tummy. How did it get there? It jumped in. Is it a boy or a girl? Its just a baby. How will it get out? It'll come flying out, then I put it in the microwave, press the buttons, take it out and feed it to Micah. Its those comments that make us laugh. When he asks if mommy went into the store to buy medicine to put the baby back in mommy's tummy, we cry. When he asks if I am sad because the baby is with Jesus, we know we've raised a compassionate son. Joel always has been a sensitive child and can usually sense when someone is hurt. It is because of this reason that we did not hide this situation from him. He knew before we could even get the words out. Unfortunately he is two and these are big emotions for him to process. We have dealt with some (exhausting) behavior issues, but have come at him with understanding and compassion as he mourns as well.
Losing a child affects the whole family. And our family has been affected. Its not just the four of us that mourn either. Grandparents and great-grandparents are also mourning. Our friends are mourning as well. Our community is mourning. And that brings me comfort. Even though their grief may be fleeting, we are comforted by the fact that we are being supported in our grief. We need our community right now. Having a miscarriage is a lonely feeling. Sometimes we feel as though we are suffering in silence. There is no physical evidence that anything is wrong. All we have is two weeks of faint memories and a future that is missing a member of our family.
I look around and wonder what life would have been like with another child. We went for a walk as a family last night, all holding hands and I kept thinking, we are missing a child. The boys were playing trains, and I kept wondering what life would have been like with another one around. Empty memories. This is the harsh reality of our new life. We have lost a child.
We wish we weren't in this situation. Both of us are struggling. We find it difficult to reach out. Not because we don't need help or feel that we can't ask for it. We want all the help we can get. But we find it difficult to say those words. To share why we need help. We're having a miscarriage. Just writing those words make me cringe. I don't like them. We have lost a child and that's a hard enough situation, but having to repeat those words over and over again are exhausting. We've held on to this secret for a while, not because we don't want the support of our friends and family. But because we can't get those words out. We don't know how to tell people. The pregnancy was a surprise, but a joyful one. This miscarriage was also a surprise, but a terribly sad and frustrating one. We have suffered a loss, and don't want to suffer alone. But we aren't sure of how to go about getting the word out, without having to say that terrible word over and over again.
For now, we are clinging to the hope and peace we have in Christ. We hold on to those moments as a family where we feel the all encompassing love to God. We still laugh at our boys. Joel is convinced that he has a baby in his tummy. How did it get there? It jumped in. Is it a boy or a girl? Its just a baby. How will it get out? It'll come flying out, then I put it in the microwave, press the buttons, take it out and feed it to Micah. Its those comments that make us laugh. When he asks if mommy went into the store to buy medicine to put the baby back in mommy's tummy, we cry. When he asks if I am sad because the baby is with Jesus, we know we've raised a compassionate son. Joel always has been a sensitive child and can usually sense when someone is hurt. It is because of this reason that we did not hide this situation from him. He knew before we could even get the words out. Unfortunately he is two and these are big emotions for him to process. We have dealt with some (exhausting) behavior issues, but have come at him with understanding and compassion as he mourns as well.
Losing a child affects the whole family. And our family has been affected. Its not just the four of us that mourn either. Grandparents and great-grandparents are also mourning. Our friends are mourning as well. Our community is mourning. And that brings me comfort. Even though their grief may be fleeting, we are comforted by the fact that we are being supported in our grief. We need our community right now. Having a miscarriage is a lonely feeling. Sometimes we feel as though we are suffering in silence. There is no physical evidence that anything is wrong. All we have is two weeks of faint memories and a future that is missing a member of our family.
I look around and wonder what life would have been like with another child. We went for a walk as a family last night, all holding hands and I kept thinking, we are missing a child. The boys were playing trains, and I kept wondering what life would have been like with another one around. Empty memories. This is the harsh reality of our new life. We have lost a child.
We were surprised by your life and even more surprised by your passing. You have left an impression on our hearts. Judah Malachi, you will always be a part of our family. We love you. This is your story.
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
Pumpkin Patch
Willow View Farms
Joel choosing a pumpkin in the pumpkin patch
Love Micah's expression in this one. He is pretending to pick up a really heavy pumpkin and letting out a large grunt.
Hay Ride
Joel's favorite part of the day---picking apples.
Pushing our loot home
Growth charts
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