Adopted and Loved

I was staring at the latest picture of Blake today, the one where he’s sucking his precious little thumb and has his other hand tucked up so adorably by his face, and I couldn’t help but feel incredibly, immeasurably, undeservedly blessed.

I have a human being living inside of me.  God has gifted Adam and I with a little boy, and in August, we’ll get to bring him into the world.

I wrote a blog post I never published months and months ago talking about how infertility has softened my heart. I wrote about all the ways God has changed me and revealed little snippets of my own character that He needed me to work on.  He’s drawn me into Himself, and in doing so, stripped me of the blinders we so often can have when it comes to our own life.  And I’ve learned a lot.

The biggest lesson by far has been the way this journey has changed my outward view.  Walking through infertility has made me want to stop wearing my heart on my sleeve and instead wear the heart of my Savior.  God has given me a profound desire for a heart that listens more and judges less.

And that’s big, because it hasn’t always been me.

If you know me, then you know I’m an opinionated person. I’m passionate, and I believe in things strongly.  My heart breaks over abortion.  Nothing fires me up more than a good political debate.  I’m conservative in every sense of the word.  My husband calls me his firecracker (lovingly, I’m sure) and at times I have been known to be a bit sassy.  I come by these traits honestly (ahem, mom and dad) but I also know that they don’t necessarily reflect the heart of my Savior.
 
People don’t change because you yell at them. Hearts aren't softened by boisterous condemnation.  I can't change a life by judging an action.  Jesus came as a servant King.  He loved, and that’s what we’re called to do as well. 

And loving doesn’t have to mean agreeing.  Rather, it’s a conscious decision to love the person and let God deal with the sin.  How else can we be God’s transparent messengers of the Light in this dark, dark world?  It’s easy to condemn when you’ve never walked through the fire.  It’s easy to judge someone when you’ve never walked in their shoes.

And in light of all that, I’ve been thinking a lot recently about how different people approach infertility.

After walking down this road myself, I am profoundly aware that at some point, as believers in Christ, each of our paths split and morph into the unique journey that God has allowed, laid out, for each of us.  I absolutely believe that, and I can support and encourage the journeys of others around me even though they may not mirror my own.  Why?  Because God made us individuals.  He made our stories unique.  I recently went to dinner with two dear friends, and one of them put it this way: since God dwells in each of us, our relationships with Him are personal.  I can’t fathom His relationship or the whispered guidance He gives to others, and others simply can’t fathom His relationship with me.  That’s God’s plan, His design, to enter into the intimacy of relationship with each of us.

Even with knowing that, and believing that, it’s hard for me to deal well with people who look at my story, at the path Adam and I have walked, and want to judge.  Who want to somehow diminish the life of my son because of the way he was conceived.

In the past month, I encountered some very harsh criticism that hurt.  It hurt because I’m a people-pleaser.  I’m also human, and part of being human is caring about what other people think of you.  And I’m also a mom.  And as a mom, when you talk about my kid, you’d better be prepared for the claws.

And yes, it all relates back to IVF.

I’m not going to name names and I’m not going to point fingers, but I am going to share some of what was said.  I think it’s important, because I know I’m not alone in the path God has led me down, and I also know that my story is not my own.  I didn’t pick this path for myself, I never imagined myself on it, but nonetheless God has used it time and time again and allowed us the honor and joy of proclaiming His goodness and mercy and His manifested faithfulness in all three of our lives.  I am absolutely committed to being that transparent witness for what He has done for me, and this blog is one way I do that.

So I want to share more with you.

When Adam and I found out that our best chances for pregnancy were through IVF, our immediate reaction was one of fear.  I’ve blogged about that in the past.  We had visions of sextuplets, selective reduction and discarded embryos flashing through our heads, and we looked at each other and thought: no way this could be happening to us.

It was surreal.

In those early days, we were defined by our fear of the unknown.  We cried in each other’s arms, we renewed our interest in adoption, we tried to picture our family as forever just the two of us.  And through all of that, in each scenario, it felt wrong.  We weren’t fulfilled.  The God-given desire of our heart was for a family of our own; babies that were half of me and half of him.  And so we got on our knees.  We prayed that God would lead.  We prayed for the courage to go where led.  We prayed for a miracle.

There was so much God-stuff that happened during those days of fear.  I’ve blogged about it all before, so I won’t repeat myself, but what I will say is that God’s voice was clear.  We knew that God had laid this path out for us.  We knew His hand was upon this journey, and when God moves…it’s best to move with Him.

So we did.  And He led us to IVF.

I want to pause here because so often I read blogs or commentaries or articles about IVF as the “easy choice”. Couples who choose IVF are taking "the easy way out."  I’d bet my next paycheck that anyone writing those words has never experienced in vitro, because let me tell you what, it’s no easy choice.  There are a million considerations. It’s emotional, it’s physical…it's everything.  It's the commitment to a dream; a commitment to the lives of babies you have never met, and yet are wholly in love with.  There are no limits to how far I’d go to protect that.  I’d do anything. My life is secondary.  And I think that does reflect the heart of my Savior.  After all, He went to the Cross for me.  That’s the ultimate example of sacrificial love.

So when I ran across an article discussing IVF in a horribly negative light (and I use "ran across" loosely...it was dropped in my lap in a purposeful way), I was really offended.  The article referred to IVF babies as “a product” brought into the world devoid of any love relationship between mother and father.  A product?  Blake just kicked me out of sheer indignation at the thought, and I’ll come back to that in a minute.

The person who shared the article also shared her thoughts that IVF carries with it the necessary acceptance of a certain loss.  I would answer that with a question: Isn’t that what earthly love is? When you choose to love someone here on earth, you accept that at some point in the future you will lose them or they will lose you. You choose to put your heart and soul into loving someone for whatever time God gives you with them on this earth. Not one day is a given, no tomorrow is certain, and yet we choose everyday to give up that control to the One who has numbered all of our days from before we were ever conceived. That’s love, and it’s always worth the risk.

In our case, there just aren’t words to describe how it feels to long for the babies that we have yet to meet. We wanted them all, and we entrusted their lives to the Father long ago. They are our babies, the children we prayed for, and we rest in the assurance that this earth is not their home anymore than it is ours. We can’t wait to meet them, and the promise of that day to come is very real in our hearts.

Is that the acceptance of a certain loss?  Not at all, because we haven’t lost them.  Our reunion is still to come, and it will be so, so sweet.

This person also wrote that IVF is presumptive of God’s gifts. There's so much I could say here.

I think it’s presumptive to assume that anyone can possibly hope to know God’s plan for the lives of others. I think it’s presumptive to imply in any way that the life of my son was spoken into existence by anyone other than his Creator.  That he is somehow "less" of a human or lacking a soul because of the path he took into our arms.  As a mom, I have a strong desire to defend my son.  But thank you sweet Jesus that I don’t need to.  Blake’s life speaks for itself. God’s amazing mercy and grace speaks through him, because Blake is His child, and God knew from the beginning of time the exact path Blake would take into this world. And that plan for his life was perfect, because it was ordained by the Father.

And everything I just wrote is exactly what I told the person who originally posted the article. 

So why am I sharing all of this?  Because I know we all struggle with doubts.  Because I know there are always going to people who want to engage in a shouting match to see whose voice echoes the loudest.  It's human nature.  We're imperfect, and all too often that imperfection brings us into head-on collisions with one another.

But we don't have to be a slave to it.

I'm not defined by what someone else thinks of me.  I serve a God who enters into relationship with us, who loves us wholly and uniquely, and who desires the same in return.  His ways are mysterious, and His panoramic squashes my Polaroid every time.  So I let Him define me. 

I don’t have all the answers.  I know that our path is not the path for everyone, and I respect and honor those couples who feel a different pull on their hearts.  Why?  Because it’s relational.  God uses our stories and our journeys in different ways, and that’s the beauty of His design.

What I do know is that God is my carpenter, and He’s still pounding out the imperfections so that my heart may mirror His.  Until that time, I pray that He makes me pliable, not rigid, so that His work may be done in and through me.

Our Baby

Just a few of the latest snapshots of our little man, taken at 23 weeks:

 His adorable little face

The baby growing inside of me!  Blake Louis Breitenstein, due August 24th!!

Pregnancy Stats: Week 22

Since this is my journal, this post is more for posterity than for anything else.  I haven’t done a great job of cataloging all the “firsts” in this pregnancy, and everyone says I should, so I’ve decided to do intermintent pregnancy status updates so I can remember all these precious little details of my nine months alone with Blake Louis.

Bear with me.

Weeks: Almost 23 weeks

Weight Gain: I’m going to be brave and just put it out there.  I’m up 16 pounds, with exercise five days a week and healthy eating.  I’ve been holding steady at a 16 pound weight gain for two weeks, so hopefully I’m leveling out for a bit.  For a while there, I could just look at a carton of ice cream and gain five pounds.  Really not fair, considering I didn’t even get to eat it.  

Cravings:  I’ve been loving cereal, nonfat cottage cheese (I think I make Adam stop for a new carton at least once or twice a week) and grapes (red or green, as long as they’re plump!)  I’m also really enjoying fruit smoothies (although I’m not convinced that’s pregnancy-related…I always crave those this time of the year!) and milk.

Clothes:  I wear a size XS/S in maternity and have been wearing maternity pants since like week 10.  I popped out early, and the baby bump is definitely there.  I have a few maternity shirts, but mainly just wearing my normal tops. 

Movement: TONS!  I started feeling Blake move at about 16 weeks, and now at 22, it’s pretty much a constant thing.  There are still days where he moves more than others,  but I haven’t had a single day pass where I haven’t felt some serious karate kicks from this little guy.  I’m also feeling him just rolling around in there, rather than just when he kicks.  It’s the coolest feeling to put my hands on my belly and feel him squirm around.  You can also see him moving from the outside!  I've also noticed that Blake seems to be a thinker, like his daddy.  He'll be rolling around and doing somersaults inside my belly, but the moment I call Adam over or he hears one of us talk, he freezes.  It's like he's listening intently to the sound of our voices.  Once we're done talking, he starts moving around again.  I've taken to some nonverbal eyebrow wiggles and facial contortions to let Adam know when to come over and feel him. 

Doctors Appointments:  We have our next ultrasound on Monday the 25th.  In addition to seeing our little guy on the big screen, we’ll also be checking to make sure my placenta has moved away from the cervix opening.  Prayers, please!

Symptoms:  I still haven’t had any nausea or morning sickness, although my doctor tells me I’m at the point in my pregnancy where that returns for some women. I have been having trouble sleeping comfortably.  I toss and turn all night long—I’m constantly moving from one side to the other as my back/hips/boobs (sorry, it’s true) all start to ache.  I’ve also been awaken a few time by Mr. Blake himself, as his kicks get stronger.  I keep telling him that nighttime is for sleeping and I’d like him to work on getting that routine down before he makes his grand appearance in August.  Overall he seems pretty agreeable, so we’ll see how that goes. 

Basically, this pregnancy has been a breeze.  Such a God thing.  It’s hard to believe we’re only a few short weeks away from the THIRD trimester!  Pretty soon we’ll be in single digits as we count down the weeks until Blake makes his grand entrance.  We can’t wait!  I honestly can’t even describe how in love we are.  It’s incredible.  I can’t imagine what it will be like to actually hold him in my arms and kiss his sweet little face.  I’m not a happy crier by nature, but in this case…I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to stop the tears of joy from falling. 

We Love You Because...

A few days ago, I fell in love with something I found on pinterest.  And then I traced it back to this blog, where I fell in love with it even more.

Anddd I had to have it. 

 Image from eighteen25

I considered buying the print, but then I realized it would be super easy to make.  And also super cheap.

So last night, Adam and I headed out to Michaels with a 40% off coupon (well, two actually...I always bring Adam in case I want to be able to use both coupons, therefore needing to make two separate purchases.  I know, sneaky).  I wanted a simple white frame like in the picture, but I also wanted it to be cheap.  I was over the moon excited when we scored a perfect white frame on clearance for $9.99.  And I didn't even need to use my coupon!

Then, this afternoon I stopped by Craft Warehouse and picked up a sheet of black craft paper (.50 cents) and two sheets of clear vellum paper (.50 cents each....I only needed one, but hey, a backup is always good).  I also picked up a black mat on clearance for $2.50.

Armed with my supplies, I sat down and created a very simple template in Word.  I changed the wording of the original print, because I wanted ours to read "we love you because..." rather than "i love you because".  I also changed the color of the font from white to a light green to better match Blake's nursery color scheme.  After printing several test copies and satisfying myself that it was how I wanted it/it would fit in the frame correctly, I printed it on the vellum paper and set to work putting it together.

This is what I came up with:

 
Different from the original, yes...but we love it.  And it was so simple to create. 

I immediately wrote my first message:

So true.  

The dry erase board marker wipes right off the glass.  It's amazing, and I love how interactive it will be for baby Blake.  I have visions of making these for each of our babies and hanging them in some sort of art display in a hallway, so our loves will know each and every single day a different reason that mommy and daddy are head over heals in love with them.  I just love it.  For Blake, Adam and I want him to know each and every moment of his life how much he is loved and treasured and adored, and I hope that someday this will be a special memory for him.  It already is for us.

We decided to hang the finished piece on the wall right next to Blake's door.  I wanted it to be somewhere we could easily reach it to change the message (...which you can see daddy Adam already did!) and this was the perfect place.  

I'm so happy with how this turned out, and when all was said and done, we spent less than $15.  I'm already planning out all the things I'll someday write on that message board....what sweet anticipation! 

 

You've Asked....

.....and we're delivering a very small sneak peak into Blake's nursery.

We are having so much fun creating this room for our little boy.  We're already more in love than I could ever put into words.

But before I show you that, let me show you the latest picture of our little man:

SO handsome, and quite advanced, as you'll notice he is giving you the #1 sign!

And now, here's our sneak peak:

Hard to tell from the sneak peak picture, but the wall color is Rainwashed by Sherwin Williams.  And no, that swing did not come with the house.

What's in a Name?

As you’ve probably noticed, Adam and I changed up our original choice for a boy name (Elijah James) and replaced it with something new.  I don’t really have a good reason why—Adam had kind of soured on the idea of Elijah and we both knew we wanted a name that we were absolutely sold on.  Duh.  This little guy is going to be stuck with this name his whole life through, and being given the chance to name someone is a pretty huge responsibility—not to mention an honor that we don’t take lightly. 

And so after much discussion we finally settled on the name of Blake.  There was no real rhyme or reason to it.  I was driving to work one day and the name popped into my head.  I instantly loved it, and once I got to my office I texted Adam and told him I was in love with a boy name and he wasn’t allowed to nix it right away without giving it some thought.  This immediate absolutely-not response had become his knee jerk reaction in the past few weeks, and I was pretty much positive that if he hated the name I’d be crushed.

Well, he didn’t hate it.  He actually really liked it. 

So then I did the next big thing when choosing a baby name: I googled it for meaning.  At first, I wasn’t impressed.  Blake is a Scottish name that literally refers to light/blonde hair.  It means “pale”.  Uh, lovely.  But I wasn’t to be dismayed, so I kept digging.  Most names have multiple meanings when you look hard enough, and sure enough, so did this one.  Finally, I stumbled across Blake’s Anglo-Saxon meaning, which (thankfully) is much more appropriate for our baby boy.  Blake means "Attractive, Forgiven: Redeemed: Forgiven through Grace"

What a perfect name for our little miracle baby.  Forgiven.  Redeemed.  A reminder of God’s grace. 

Ah, much better.

Satisfied that we had found the name, we started discussing middle names.  Louis was at the top of our list, because it is the middle name carried by my dad. 

My dad has been my number-one fan my entire life.  He’s been a best friend, a protector, and a role model for me my whole life through.  He’s encouraged me to reach for my dreams, to believe in myself, and—most of all—to never forget how loved I am.  We share such a special bond as father and daughter, and we are incredibly close.  I have precious memories of his whispered I love you little girl and his strong arms that were always there to hold me.  When Adam and I were married, he adopted my husband right into the family—immediately considering him a son and loving him in that same huge way.   His excitement to be a grandpa melts my heart, and I hope that Blake’s middle name will forever remind him of what a special relationship it is that exists between a daddy and his child.  I have been unequivocally blessed by the man I get the honor of calling my daddy, and that’s something that Blake and I will have in common.     

Louis is also the Americanized version of my Great-Grandpa’s name, Luigi.  We love that Blake will carry a little bit of both sides of the family with him as he grows.  His last name is wholly Adam, and his middle name is wholly my (Italian) heritage. 

Interestingly enough, Louis also means “warrior”….so if you put two and two together, we’re basically naming our son Pale Warrior Breitenstein.  Catchy, huh?

In any case, we love our little boy, and we think his name is perfect. 

 We can’t wait to meet you, Blake Louis!!!

Little Sisters and Big Brothers

Some of you may know that I am the youngest in a family of two—my brother being 18 months older than me. 

Being a big brother is a big job, and when we were younger, we definitely had our moments.  I played the role of little sister really well, i.e. I loved to get him in trouble.  Just turning on the waterworks and running for mom did wonders when he wouldn’t give me the toy I wanted.  I also loved to drive him up the wall in argument when I would scream at him: talking to a wall, talking to a wall, talking to a wall!  I still haven’t lived that one down.  In the car, he would get his revenge by slugging me in the left arm (he sat on the left side of the van and me on the right) and I had what I fondly refer to now as a perma-bruise.  Probably well-deserved. 

But the truth is I drove him nuts because little sister loved to be around big brother.  I wanted to do everything he was doing.  I remember wanting to play Star Trek with him and his best friend, and while they reluctantly agreed, they gave me the role of Doctor Crusher because she always stayed on the ship—never going on “away missions” with the crew.  Basically, this meant sitting on the bunk bed while the two boys were off on their imaginary missions.  Pretty clever, really. 

I also remember going on bike rides near our house.  My mom always told my brother that he had to stay with me, because I was his little sister and needed to be looked after.  I loved to gloat about that one, and while he’d always agree at mom’s insistence, once we were around the corner he’d speed off and only come back for me when he was ready to head home.  I’m pretty sure I told on him. 

Sounds like a pretty normal sibling relationship, yeah? 

Just wait.

My favorite memories are of playing on the backyard swings with my brother, taking the dog for a walk, laughing as we wrestled with dad on the floor in front of the TV, and making memories as only a brother and sister can.

And the older we got, the better it got. I started to appreciate my big brother even more.  I looked up to him more than anyone else, and the example he set for me was always good.  Whether it was in school, or at home, or with friends, there was never a time when I couldn’t look to my big brother for an example of the person I wanted to be.  He was my hero. 

I remember how Tony always knew what he believed in, and he was always willing to stand by it.  I saw that in him and it made me want to know what I believed in too.  I remember going to my brother and asking him questions about God, about politics, and about how to integrate our faith in the society we lived in.  His answers always impressed me and made me think. He knew the Bible and would point to passages that related to what we were talking about.  He inspired me to know more, to be more, and to grow in my faith. 

I remember one time in high school—I was a freshman and he was a junior---and it was one the first days of school. We were standing in a group of his friends and some other upperclassman.  Someone asked Tony who his best friend was, and without hesitating, he put an arm around my neck and said my sister is.  I’ll never forget that moment.  My heart soared with pride. 

I think it was high school that was the turning point for Tony and I.  Our relationship morphed into a deep friendship and appreciation for one another.  He became my best friend.  We’d have brother-sister nights at the movies, we’d talking about everything (even things we didn’t want mom and dad to know….solidarity!), he rescued me (and laughed at me) when I got my car stuck in the snow on more than one occasion, we were roommates in college one year, and when I interned at the US Embassy in London my junior year of college, he visited me and we went to Italy together.  Those were some precious memories 

We’ve seen each other through all the curve balls life has thrown our way, and he’s been a sounding board and listening ear every single time I’ve needed one.  I love him more than I could ever say.  I look up to him for the person he’s always been, for the person he is now, and for the person I see him becoming.  I am so proud to call him my brother, and feel incredibly blessed that God saw fit to give me the precious gift of a big brother. 

So why am I telling you all of this? 

Because, as Adam and I began to talk about starting a family, we talked a lot about how we wanted our little girl to have the special gift of a big brother.   Adam is a big brother, too, and he understands the importance of that role.  I know what an incredible gift I was given in mine, and I’ve always wanted my little girl to have that built-in protector, that partner in crime, and that best friend she’ll know her whole life through.  I’ve always wanted her to have a big-brother hero, just like I do. 

While Adam and I would have been overjoyed with whatever God had planned for our family, we always hoped that we’d welcome a little boy first, because we both know how important big brothers are, what an important job they play, and what a precious, precious gift they represent.

And so, it is with incredible joy that we share with you the results from Friday’s ultrasound:

It’s a boy.