Infertility, revisited

I've written about infertility more times than I can count, and yet, as I sit down to write this post it just feels different.   And I am very aware that the difference in this case is the 3-month-old miracle sleeping soundly down the hall.

I know how immeasurably we have been blessed.

But as I sit here, I'm letting my mind wander ahead to tomorrow, which will be December 1.  And I'm remembering that day one year ago.  It was a defining moment in our journey.  It was the day we became parents.  I'll never forget the feelings and emotions I had as we left the clinic that day, and as we approach the one-year anniversary, I find myself thinking about and reflecting on four itty bitty lives who are currently waiting for me in that frozen nursery.  I think about them, and my heart flutters in anxious, eager anticipation. 

Today I am so cognizant and aware that our journey isn't over.  In fact, the majority of it is still head. 

As soon as Blake was born, we did two things.  We set up a college fund for him, and we set up an OHSU fund for his brothers and sisters.  We're going back in the summer of 2012.  If all goes as planned, we'll make a final trip to OHSU (hopefully with a lot of babies in tow) in 2014.  Statistically speaking, each of our frozen babies will have their best shot in the baby-maker before I turn 30.   And because we are committed to them wholly and completely as their parents, and because I'm young enough for the timing to work out, that's our plan.

That's our plan.  Even writing that sentence makes me cringe, because I know that my plan means nothing.  I know that writing the words won't make it come true.  After all, our plan was to have had our first baby two years ago.  Our plan was to have two pairs of little feet running around the house by 2012.  

But our plan was flawed. 

It was imperfect.  And all those months of waiting were not in vain, because while we thought we were waiting for a baby...we weren't.   

We were waiting for Blake.

And that wait was perfect, and beautiful, and necessary.  Today, my eyebrows do funny contortions when my friends tell me about their "plan" for having babies.  While there's nothing wrong with preparing for the future and setting goals, if I've learned anything on this journey it's that my plan all along should have been complete surrender to His plan.  

So now, as we gear up for our next tango in this ongoing infertility dance in 2012, I'm feeling deeply contemplative.  It's hard, even now, to downplay the anxious thoughts that fill my heart.  Infertility is brutal.  It never gets easier.  After Blake was born, my doctor wanted to put me on birth control.  But there was no need.  I can't get pregnant on my own.  That fact always hits like a slap in the face, even though I've learned not to let it sting.  I've embraced this facet of my life as an integral part of who I am, who God made me to be, and I am willing to lean in eagerly with every step that I take in step with my Savior.

I know this is the path that God laid out for my feet to travel.  I know He has walked beside me every step of the way and remained faithful in my darkest days.  I don't feel the same fear I felt all those many months ago when we were waiting for our first miracle.  This time around, it's different.  Maybe, in some ways, the emotions are amplified because I know what's at stake.  Four little humans who are wholly mine.  My precious babies.  Blake's brothers and sisters.  I feel this season so deeply because I want them all. 

And so I'm spending this anniversary week--their anniversary week--in prayer.  For our future.  For our family.  For the babies who have now been on this earth for 1 full year and who I'm still longing to meet.  I think about them all time, wondering if they'll look like their older brother or if any of them will have green eyes like me.  They are all so precious to me, so much already a part of our family.  And yet, they aren't here with us.   

I've always found the waiting to be the hardest part, because it is so unknown.  But instead of dwell in the unknown, I'm choosing to dwell in the known:  

I know that God has the perfect plan for my family, and that it was ordained since the beginning of time. 

I know that our waiting has never been, nor ever will be, in vain

I know that my babies, born and unborn, are loved and cherished by the Father.   

I know that He has already counted all the hairs that have yet to grow on their little heads

I know that He had numbered their days long before any of us were ever born, and that nothing that happens on this earth can ever change the plan He had for their lives

And I know and trust in His timing

When I look into the eyes of my son it's like God is whispering in my ear, reminding me of all I'll ever need to know:  Your waiting has never been in vain.  You were waiting for this little boy, the one I intended for you.  I take faith in that, choosing to believe and trust that this journey has already been played out in the eyes of my Savior.  He knows my family and each member that is to be added to it.  And I know that His master plan is perfect.  As we enter into this next leg of our infertility journey, we do so with anxious anticipation as we await the grand reveal.

We're not waiting for a baby, we're waiting for our babies.  And so we will wait.  Because we are already so, so in love.

In God We Trust....right?

I've been thinking a lot lately about the relationship between an all-encompassing, all-powerful God and….science.   

Cue dramatic music here.

It’s a show stopper, right?

Maybe not.

Science and religion, or a belief in an omnipotent God, are often portrayed as going head to head in this earthly battlefield for the hearts and minds of humanity.  But I don't believe they have to be.  Instead, I believe that science and faith are complementary.

We serve a complex God, and yet the Bible tells us that God cast us in his own image. Given we are intelligent, we can then imagine that we share this with a God who made us in “His own image”.  He gave us free will and a brain and He intended for us to use both.  Science is a natural offshoot of that gift, and without it—without the quest to understand the world around us using our God-given gifts of free will and intelligence—we could only ever operate at the whim of God.  But that’s not how God made us, and that's not what He wanted.  He didn’t mean for us to be mindless followers.  Instead, he gave us the ability to question, to explore and to learn.  In our humanity, God have us the free will we would need in order to choose to follow Him.  In our individual weakness God bestowed upon each of us incredible gifts that He intended we use to further His kingdom.  I believe it is through these spiritual gifts that we come to understand the connection between God and science. 

Even so, I am well aware that there are many believers in the world today with great faith who believe that science, and more specifically, the use of modern medicine, goes against the Divine plan for humanity.  While we know that God is the Great Healer,  does that mean that we should rely on divine healing to the exclusion of any other medical treatments?

If you believe that, then I have the following question for you:  If divine healing is ours as followers of Jesus Christ, why is it that some people, despite their great faith, do not get healed?

Let me use the example of little David Hickman, who was born two months early at his grandmother’s home and then died less than nine hours later when he had trouble breathing.  He was born with a bacterial infection and underveloped lungs.  His parents, rather than seek medical care, prayed and rubbed olive oil on their sick infant.  Despite their fervent prayers for his healing, David died. 

Medical experts have since testified that the baby had a 99 percent chance of survival had his parents sought medical care.

No matter what your (or my) opinion is of these parents’ actions, I believe one thing is very clear:  David's parents did not lack the faith to see their son healed.   They prayed.  They called their family and church elders to pray over the tiny baby.  I'm sure they loved him.   

So why wasn’t he healed?  Was it God’s will that the little boy should die?

This example begs two wider questions:

Does the Bible promise physical healing?

Isaiah 53 is an often quoted passage when it comes to divine healing. Verses 4 - 5 in particular read:

“Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered him stricken by God, smitten by him, and afflicted.  But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed.

These verses are sometimes used as a reference to our spiritual, rather than physical, healing. And I can see that.  But if we look at these verses in conjunction with Matthew 8:17, where Isaiah is quoted in direct reference to the physical healings that Jesus fulfilled, I think a new picture is painted of physical healing:

“When evening came, many who were demon-possessed were brought to him, and he drove out the spirits with a word and healed all the sick. This was to fulfill what was spoken through the prophet Isaiah: "He took up our infirmities and carried our diseases." (Isa 53:4)

Furthermore, writing about 30 years after the death of Jesus, James reiterated.

Is any one of you sick? He should call the elders of the church to pray over him and anoint him with oil in the name of the Lord. And the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise him up. If he has sinned, he will be forgiven. (James 5:14-15 NIV)

Clearly, the Bible teaches that God is still in the healing business. Physical healing from sickness and disease is part of what Jesus accomplished for us by his life, death and resurrection.

So, let’s move on. 

Does seeking medical treatment or taking medicine contradict my belief in divine healing?

I am fully aware that there are some Christians who understand the taking of medical treatment as a demonstration of disbelief in God's word. After all, Jesus never sent anyone to the doctor, right?

In my opinion, this over looks the fact that doctors in those days were very primitive. We do, however, know that doctors did exist because Luke, the writer of the Gospel of Luke, was a doctor himself (Colossians 4:14).

Truly, medical treatment has come a long way since the days of Jesus. But even in the early church not all sickness benefited from divine intervention. Paul left someone sick at Miletus (2 Timothy 4:20) and Timothy was advised to take a little wine for medical purposes (1 Timothy 5:23). Epaphroditus, a co-worker with Paul, fell sick and nearly died (Phil 2:25-28). None of these hindered Paul from believing in divine healing.

Paul had a respectable record of praying for the sick and witnessing many of them receive their healing from the Lord. Just read the following accounts in Acts (14:8-18; 16:16-18; 19:11-12; 20:7-12; 28:1-9). Even today, despite the many false and exaggerated claims to divine healing, genuine cases do exist. 

The truth of the matter is that Paul had a healthy understanding of the different ways in which God can intervene to restore us to health.

It’s important as followers of Christ to understand that the gift of healing is not the only gift available and promised to us. There is also the gift of wisdom (1 Corinthians 12:1-11). As followers of Christ, we are entrusted with the wisdom to address problems that arise in this life.  We can get ourselves into serious trouble when we put God in a box and expect him to heal us in only one particular way.  Let us not forget that God is the inventor of modern medicine.  Can God choose to heal through divinity?  Absolutely.  But God may also choose to heal through the use of science, and that’s no less miraculous. 

So in answer to my own question; no, I don't believe that seeking medical care contradicts my belief in a God of miracles.  Rather, I believe it is an act of faith and obedience.   As a follower of Christ, my greatest charge is to make decisions for my family that pair the gift of wisdom with my understanding and faith in my God as the Great Healer.  God works in mysterious ways, but it's not up to me to define what that looks like. 

Thoughtful Tuesdays

Blake will be two months old next week, and as I sit here writing this, he is sleeping in his crib. I’m listening to his sweet little sleep sounds on the monitor and thinking about how right this feels.  How normal.  How perfect.  Being Blake’s mom is the greatest honor I’ve ever had in my life, and I am in love with this little boy in a way I didn’t know was possible.  I still can’t believe that I’m someone’s mommy.  It’s an unfathomable gift. 

But I’m going to be really honest; I haven’t spent all of the past seven weeks feeling that way. 

I’ve been putting off writing this post because it’s uncomfortable, and yet, I knew from the beginning it was one I needed to write.  It’s part of my story, and because I believe that God is the author of this journey, I am choosing to step forward in faith and trust in the transparency that I believe God has called me to.  And so here we go.

When we brought Blake home from the hospital, and probably for the first two weeks of his life, a lot of the time I found myself thinking: what have we gotten ourselves into. 

I cried all the time.  For no reason. 

I was terrified to be left alone with Blake, for any amount of time.

I was incredibly clingy.  To my husband.  To my mom. 

I felt guilty for feeling the way I did.  I had prayed so hard for this baby, and God had gifted us a beautiful baby boy, and yet…I didn’t feel happy.  I didn’t feel fulfilled.  I didn’t feel like I loved him as much as I should.   There were times I wished I could just walk away.  Put things back to the way they were before Blake came into our lives.

Is it as shocking for you to read that as it was for me to feel it? 

I didn’t know what to do.  I had certainly not expected to feel that way, and I certainly didn’t want to feel that way.  I had felt like I knew Blake so intimately while he was in the womb, and yet, here was this baby in my arms that felt like a total stranger.  I didn’t feel bonded to him.  I didn’t know him. 

I was so sure that God was angry with me, that He must be looking down on me and seeing an ungrateful woman who had just been given the greatest desire of her heart and yet didn’t have the grace to rejoice in it.  I felt like I was letting down my God.  I felt like hiding, and I just didn’t feel like me.  I spent many nights crying, feeling absolutely alone and scared. 

Looking back now, it’s hard to even relate to those feelings I was having.  I had so much support, and yet I just couldn’t see it.  My husband was incredible.  He was supportive in ways that I never would have expected, and reaffirmed for me time and time again that his love was intentional and unequivocal.  He loved me for me.  He understood.  He never judged.  He listened and held me.  He loved me and just wanted me to be okay.

My parents were also beyond amazing.  For the first three weeks of Blake’s life, we went to their house every night for dinner.  They would spend time with Blake, letting us take a nap, or even go on a few mini dates to give us some time to ourselves.  They never judged.  They listened.  My mom assured me I was normal.  She held me and told me what a great mom I was, that she could see it even if I couldn’t, and that someday soon these feelings would go away and I would be able to enjoy this new life we had been given as a family of three.

I clung to those words, but they just weren’t enough.  I still felt empty, and scared, and alone.  It wasn’t until a few days later, while I was sitting on my bed crying while Blake screamed in Adam’s arms in the living room, that something my mom said to me finally hit home.

She told me to let Him lead. 

She reminded me of the relationship I already had with my Savior. 

And for some reason, just that simple reminder changed everything.

I got down on my knees and put my face on the floor.  With tears streaming down my cheeks, I begged God to lead me.  To mold me into the woman He would have me be in order to raise this little boy He had given us.  I prayed for His peace, for His mercy, and for Him to fill me with the joy that comes from being somebody’s mom.  I so desperately wanted to feel that joy. 

I stayed that way for quite some time, being still and leaning in to hear His voice.  And it was in those moments of stillness that I felt His perfect peace.  I felt the intimacy of the relationship that I have with my Savior.  I felt His love pour over me, and I felt the reassurance that He loved me.  That I was His child, His precious little girl, and His love for me was absolute and unwavering.  I didn’t have to feel alone.  I didn’t have to feel scared.  He had given me the gift of Blake, and He would equip me with everything I needed to be the mother He had made me to be.  I knew in that moment that God had intended Blake for me, and maybe even more powerfully, that He had intended me for Blake, since the beginning of time.  Our lives were entwined in God’s master plan, and I could never be the woman God intended me to be without Blake..  Suddenly, I felt like I knew him a little bit more.

For me, that night was a turning point.  There were still moments and days that I would struggle, but the struggles were different because my attitude had changed.   I wasn’t trying to just survive, instead, I was leaning in, I was letting God lead and I was finding absolute joy in the new role He had given me as Blake’s mommy.    

Today, I look back and know that a lot of what I was feeling was Post-Partum Blues (not to be confused with Post-Partum Depression), which is caused by a hormone dump that occurs after delivery.   I had an especially tough delivery (which I’ll share should I ever get the birth story written) and had a lot of recovering of my own to do in those first few weeks. I was struggling to cope with all the changes all on my own. I wanted to control everything around me. 

I know, after the past two years, I really should know better.  Clearly, I’m still learning to surrender.

So why am I sharing?

Because I wanted to document the grace.  I’m so imperfect, my heart so human, and my walk so tenuously tied to the things of this earth.  How easily I forget.  How easily I stumble.  It reminds me of a DC Talk Song: will the love continue, when my walk becomes a crawl?

I think that’s a question we all ask ourselves.  It’s easy to beat ourselves up for stumbling.  It’s easy to feel like we’re unworthy of the grace. 

I felt that way during the first few weeks of Blake’s life.

But Christ died for the sinners. 

He died for the unworthy. 

His love transcends and reaches us where we are. He accepts us as His own and His grace covers our insecurities and our imperfections perfectly.  Isn’t that powerful?  As believers, our strength doesn’t come from us.  It comes from a reliance on the grace of our Savior King. 

And so I write this post knowing full well that my walk is imperfect, that my faith is imperfect….and that I’m forgiven, loved, and accepted anyway.

Today I look at my little boy and I can’t even fathom those feelings I had early on.  I can’t even imagine not knowing this little one, and not having him in my life.  That's grace. 

I hear You whispering my name, You say "My love for You will never change"

Blake Louis

Blake Louis arrived at 8:40PM on Thursday, August 18th.  After 13 hours of labor and 2 hours of pushing, he came out screaming, weighing 10 pounds 7 ounces and measuring 22 inches long.  He is perfect. 

Blake at one day old

 

 

 

Blake at 6 days old.  Tomorrow he will be ONE WEEK old.  Oh my.

 And now...I leave you with some ridiculous cuteness:

That is one adorable little guy.

Sorry to take so long for the update :)  Life has been BUSY with a newborn.  We're loving every minute, even the hard ones.  We are feeling so blessed!!  

Back (hopefully) soon with more updates and pictures of our baby boy!

DIY Pillow Duvet

So a few minutes ago, I tackled a little DIY project that I think will be aesthetically pleasing for our living room AND highly functional for our lifestyle.  Win-win. 

I've been wanting some new pillows for our couch forever.  But pillows run anywhere between $9.99 and upwards of $30 a pop.  And I'm way too cheap for that.  And, I'm seriously picky about what I want.  And, we have two dogs who are allllll over our couches on any given day.  And....I just didn't want to spend that much on something that will be transformed into a dog bed in less than a week.   

I had considered (and thought I was going to) just make a few new pillows with some inexpensive fabric and pillow forms.  But.....pillow forms are expensive too.  And between those and the fabric, I could have just bought them readimade.

So, that got me thinking.

I really only wanted new pillows to use as an accent to the green curtains that I hung up last week.  And honestly, we only have the accent pillows ON the couches when we have company over (or when I'm taking pictures for the blog....guilty as charged).  Otherwise, they're usually in a sloppy neat pile on the floor.   So it seemed silly to spend that much for something we don't really use every day. 

And then it hit me.  I didn't need to actually buy new pillows....I just needed to transform the old!

I made a quick trip to Hancock Fabrics and picked up a yard and a half of fabric, came home and got down my sewing machine, and set to work.  Our pillows started out looking like this:

Yuck.


But by the end, they looked like this. 

Much better.

What did I do? I just slip-covered them!  Think a duvet, but for pillows.  Took about 10 minutes per pillow, and when all was said and done, I was able to recover four of my existing pillows with a yard and a half of fabric that cost me a total of $12.00.  I may or may not have done a little happy dance around the living room.

I'm especially thrilled with this solution for two reasons:
1. The slipcovers are removable and can be easily washed.  This is wonderful news for a household with two dogs, a cat, and a new baby on the way.
2. On an ordinary day at home, or on a day when we won't be home and the couches will be overtaken by two lazy, dirty dogs...we can just opt to take the covers off and let them lounge all over the old pillows.  Then, if we are having guests over or entertaining later in the evening, we can slip them back on for a more finished, refined look.

I'm in love!  I still have about four more pillows to cover, but since my little experiment turned out so well....that will be tomorrow's project!

Redeemed

I spent about an hour one morning this week reading back through my posts from the last couple of years.  I ended my little trip down memory lane with big, fat tears running down my face.

Happy tears. 

Maybe that's so significant for me today because it hasn't always been the case.  So many of the tears I've cried throughout this journey have been tears of deep, profound sadness.  Tears of longing.  Tears of heartache.  Tears cried out of fear.  Tears that streamed down my face as I drove with the radio blasting, asking why, asking how and desperately pleading for an answer to my pain.

Well, now I have my answer.  The answer is, and always has been, Blake.  This little boy is the child God has been preparing us for.  This is the child that God knew, during every dark day, would someday be the one we'd have in our arms.  I can hardly wrap my head around the magnitude of that.  I can so clearly remember the heartache, the fear and sadness, but it's overshadowed tenfold by how God redeemed that heartache.  My timing was imperfect; my pleading so often in vain.  And you know what?  I wouldn't have had it any other way, because if I had gotten what I wanted when I wanted it, I would never have carried this precious little boy that God has intended for me since the beginning of time. 

The sorrow may last for a night, but joy comes with the morning.

It's absolutely humbling to look back now and see how God has worked in our lives and given us this story.  I once wrote about being in a desert, and about Adam and my commitment to preparing our fields for the harvest that we believed God was going to send.   Now, here we are, standing in a glorious downpour, and all I can think to do is raise my hands in praise to the One who has transformed our lives in such a tangible, real way.  There aren't words for the joy we feel.  There aren't words for the love that we have for the baby God has gifted us with. 

So many of you have asked me questions about infertility, or in vitro, or simply reached out and shared your own story of longing and loss.  Sometimes I hear your stories and it leaves me speechless, because the pain you feel is so tangible.  I can feel it.  I can remember it.   I know the pain of infertility is unlike anything else in life.  It's like being in a choke-hold.  It's hard to even breathe without being reminded of the heartache.  It's overwhelming. 

But I also know that God will redeem your heartache.  The desire to be a momma is God-breathed.  It's a promise written on your heart by the One who made you.  I believe that.   The path to motherhood looks different for all of us, but I know that we serve a God who will never leave or forsake you.  Your heartache is not forgotten.  Your story isn't over yet.

I am confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion 

Philippians 3:6 

If the Bible says it, we can believe it. 

For Adam and I, our story isn't over yet either.  Our journey to Blake was beautiful, it was perfect, and it was truly just the beginning.  We don't know where the rest of our journey will take us, but we do know that we are committed to walking this road with hearts full of thanksgiving and faithfulness.  How could we not?  God has already shown us so clearly that His plan is so much better than anything we could have dreamed up on our own. 

And for all of you who are knee-deep in the muck of your own journey?  I want to encourage you not to be weighed down.  Lift your eyes up to the hills!  Where does your help come from? Your help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth (Psalms 121).  There's really no one better to have on your team. 

37 Weeks

Well, we made it!  As of yesterday, Blake is officially full term.  It is such a relief to know that anything unexpected happening at this point, like, say my water breaking, is okay and normal.  And he'd be okay to come.

Thank you, Lord, for protecting our precious little boy throughout this entire pregnancy.  We continue to pray for his protection as we welcome him into the world!!

And speaking of welcoming him....our doctor says anytime!  I am progressing nicely.  I'm effaced, but not dilated yet.  Our doctor says things can change fast between weeks 37 and 40, so we just don't know.  We're on baby watch.  We go back on Tuesday to see how things are looking....

Would you pray with us now for the safe delivery of our little boy?  To God be ALL the glory for this miracle baby!  We are so in love.

I'll leave you with a bare belly shot of me at 37 weeks.  Please ignore the fact that I haven't taken a shower and I have no make-up on.