Not a bandaid

Can I talk about grief for a minute?

Actually, no.  I really can’t.  Because grief doesn’t last just a minute.

And maybe that’s the problem.

And honestly?  The hardest thing about going through it is that people forget.  They expect you to get over it.  They want you to get over it, and start getting back to ‘normal’.  They give it a few weeks and then stop asking. How are you doing?  Are you okay today?  How can I help? 

So why is grief so awkward?

To me, grief is an exquisite pain.  It’s a gift of humanity.

exquisite:

1.      extremely beautiful and, typically, delicate.

The deepest pain can only be accompanied by the greatest joy;  you can’t experience the debilitating pain of loss if you’ve never experienced the euphoric joy of loving so very, very fully.  Truly.   

And yet…. I feel like we’re afraid to name it. To claim it.   As a society, we gloss over it.  It feels awkward to talk about.  We desperately want people to get over their loss, we want to put a bandaid on the hurt and replace it with something new as soon as we can.

   

Last week I bumped into a sweet friend of a friend who asked me if we felt better now that we had started the process of the adoption; if that made the failed IVF cycle less painful and easier to get over...especially since we already have two kids. 

I know this came from a place of honest curiosity, but.....oh my, no.   

Adoption is not our bandaid for our grief.

What we lost three weeks ago cannot be fully understood unless you've walked the road we've walked.  We lost lives that we had prayed over daily since their conception in December of 2011.  We lost Blake and Lainey’s last two biological siblings.  We lost them.  We said goodbye to the people at OHSU who had held our hands and loved us through some of the darkest, loneliest days of our marriage.  I’ve cried with these people.  They’re cried with me.  We walked away from a $30,000+ investment in the lives of our children, born and unborn, that (had we know each outcome) we would choose to do again….in half a heartbeat.  My husband and I have held each other and cried over the babies we’ll never meet.  We’ve cried that this story is over.  I’ve mourned my infertility anew.  Repeatedly.   I’ve felt just as lost and vulnerable as I did four long years ago when I didn’t know if I’d ever have kids.  I’ve been angry that we don’t get a next month.  That I can’t have a story like that…that it doesn’t work like that for us.   I’ve asked why.
 

That’s grief.  It’s raw.   

But so is love.  And so is redemption. 

What we lost three weeks ago is not lost.  Earth is a moment, but Heaven?  An eternity.  God heard every prayer I prayed.  For protection.   Right now, my babies are being loved on by the Creator of the Universe.  They are safe.  They are protected.  God heard, and He answered.   Our journey at OHSU intertwined our lives with incredible, loving and selfless people who touched our hearts and will forever reside there.    God allowed us opportunities to be His mouthpiece.   He walked with us every step of the way, and we are so grateful for the chance to have walked in step with our Savior.  My heart is the most full when I feel the crown jewels of Earth around my neck…the arms of my children.  Infertility cannot define me if I allow my God to be my author instead.  I am His treasure.  Our story isn’t over because God is still writing the next chapters.  We are sure of that because our hearts are yearning for our Tucker.  We know this little life is out there waiting for us.   And we are again willing to walk….in step….with the Author of the desires written so flawlessly on our hearts.   He knows what He’s doing.

I know all of these things.  I believe them absolutely.  And yet, I also grieve.  That doesn't need to be hidden; I don't believe it was ever meant to be.  It reminds me that this is real.  It’s okay if it’s not always pretty.  God can handle my ugly.  I grieve the loss because I valued their lives so fully.

October is Infant Loss Awareness month.  Do you know and love someone who is grieving this unfathomable loss?  My friends, don't try and fix it.  Wrap your arms around them today, in a week, and again in a month.  In two months.  In two years.  Let them know you haven't forgotten, that their pain matters to you.  Grief doesn't need a bandaid.  Just experience it with them, and love them through it.

Remind them that this journey is so far from over.....

 

Embryo Adoption

Without meaning to, I was a little bit vague and a little bit confusing on my last post.  So to clarify: when I said we would be adopting Tucker as the tiniest of all babies….I was referring to the relatively new embryo adoption. 

And we are so stinkin’ excited we can’t even begin to contain ourselves.

Embryo adoption refers to the adoption of one of 400,000 frozen embryos worldwide, (many) of whom were created during the IVF process and were then frozen indefinitely once their genetic parents felt like their family was complete. 

Adoption of an embryo is a process very similar to that of domestic infant adoption, and yet uniquely tragic in that the actual embryo is viewed as property in the eyes of the law...not a baby.  At its core, legally speaking, embryo adoption is a legal agreement transferring ownership of the embryo from the genetic parents to the adoptive parents, and it carries with it none of the tax credits or incentives that traditional adoption allows.   

To us, this view of life is a tragedy. We believe that life begins at conception, we believe that these waiting lives are precious and worthy and our hearts are incredibly tenderized to them.  To us, these waiting embryos represent a population of innocent, precious lives that have no one to fight for them.  They have no advocates.

Each year, genetic families decide whether or not to keep storing their embryos, and from experience we know that the fee to freeze and store embryos is upwards of $500 a year.  Genetic parents who are done building their families and find themselves with ‘leftover’ embryos have three choices: (1) donate the embryos to science, (2) continue storing their embryos or (3) have their embryos destroyed. Destroying an embryo involves thawing that precious little life….and then letting it die right there on the table.

I can’t stomach it. 

This is where embryo adoption comes in.  There is no cost to the genetic family, and if they choose to donate their embryos to an embryo adoption agency, they suddenly find themselves in a situation very similar to a birth parent in a domestic adoption.  They get to choose the family who will adopt their embryos through a mutual selection process, and they get to specify what kind of adoption plan they want to write; open, closed, or anywhere in between. 

To adoptive parents, embryo adoption is unique in that the mama gets to carry her baby in her womb.   When the baby is born, the adoptive parents are the only names on the birth certificate.  Legally speaking, the genetic parents have no claim to any baby born after the embryos transfer hands.

So what does the process look like for us?

First, we complete a home study.  Our home study is the exact same study that would be completed for a domestic or international adoption, with the same costs.  After we have a completed home study, we will create a family profile to be shown to genetic families.  From there, it’s a mutual selection process.  Genetic families will be shown our profile, and if they choose us, their family/embryo profile will be sent to us.  In essence, we’ll choose each other.  Once a match has been made, the legal paperwork is completed regarding the adoption of the embryos, and we make arrangement to have them shipped to our fertility clinic OR we can travel to them.  It takes about two months to prep my body for a frozen embryo transfer, and a day for the FET to take place.  All in all, it’s a 5-13 month process to transfer day, and then….9 months to deliver a baby. 

Like I said, our heart are incredibly tender to embryo adoption.  In fact, the agency we are adopting through is the same agency we had planned to use should anything have happened to me/us and I hadn’t been able to go back for all of our own babies.   We had a plan in place for their safety through adoption, and now we find ourselves on the other side of the table. 

The obvious fear with embryo adoptions is that the embryos wouldn’t attach.  That the FET wouldn’t be successful, and we’d walk away at the end of the process with empty arms.  We aren’t naïve to that risk; we’ve been there before.  But God has so clearly and swiftly set our feet upon this path, and we are eager to walk each step with Him as He leads us to baby Tucker.  We are believing in expectation that God will be faithful each step of the way.   

I've long believed that one way God ministers to me in my own life is through music.  Truly.  In some of the biggest valleys of my life, God has spoken to and delivered hope and reassurance to my soul through song.  There are a handful of songs that bring me to tears in an instant; because they remind me of times that God clearly used them to speak to me.  The day after we found out we'd lost the twins, I was driving in my car as the song "Fix My Eyes" came on the radio.  I'm sure I must have heard it dozens of times before, but that day I really listened to the words, and this is what I heard: 
Hit rewind, click delete
Stand face to face with the younger me
All of the mistakes
All of the heartbreak
Here's what I'd do differently, I'd

Love like I'm not scared
Give when it's not fair
Live life for another
Take time for a brother
Fight for the weak ones
Speak out for freedom
Find faith in the battle
Stand tall but above it all
Fix my eyes on You
On You

I learned the lines and talked the talk
But the road less traveled is hard to walk
It takes a soldier
Who knows his orders
To walk the walk I'm supposed to walk

We're on it, Lord.  We're fixing our eyes on You.  This road is hard, and we're afraid of all the what ifs.....but Tucker?  So worth it.  

 

A New Beginning

Dear Tuck,

Hi baby, it’s your mommy.  You and I don’t know each other yet, but your face is already so alive in my heart, and my arms are already aching to squeeze you tight in a giant bear hug.   Someday I hope you’ll read these words and know that you have been loved in every moment.  I hope you’ll know that you were always wanted, and that you were prayed for by name with conviction and passion for years before your birth.  Buddy, your story is being written as I write this.

Your big brother Blake and big sister Lainey talk about you all the time.  Blake prays for you every single night, and we ask God to protect you wherever you are.    Blake says your name in his most precious 3-year-old toddler speak, and it comes out sounding more like “Tuckwer”.  It was daddy who came up with your name.  It was when I was pregnant with your sister, and we had taken a late family walk with your big brother in the stroller.  Daddy and I were dreaming and talking about future names for our babies….and daddy, with a glimmer in his eye and a grin on his face, blurted out the name Tucker.  It was completely out of the blue.  But when I heard it pass through his lips, it was almost like the name lingered there in the still breeze of that warm summer night.  Tucker.  I knew it right away.   You, my precious one, were meant to be part of our family. 

We didn’t know then what path would lead us to you.   God has given all three of you such unique stories;  such God-breathed, beautifully written masterpieces crafted by the Creator of the Universe.    I know that God has something great in store for our littlest Breitenstein; that the plan for your life will be as masterfully written as every delicious detail and plot-twist He’s written for our family through every season of life.  Tuck, know that we’ve been searching for you.  And for a little while, we thought we’d found you.  But before that path led us to you, our precious babies were born into Heaven’s gates.   We grieved that loss completely and intimately, but daddy and I also realized right away that our loss was really just a reminder that we hadn’t found you yet.  Those little loves are your siblings, and someday we’ll all reunite on golden street with incredible shouts of joy….but God’s plan for their lives was never on Earth.  We know that.  As much as we wanted and loved them….they weren’t you.  

And we’ve been waiting for you.

When God laid your name on our hearts, it was almost like he carved a Tucker-sized hole that was literally waiting for your life to fill it—to come and make our family whole.   When we lost our last pregnancy, we prayed.  We cried.  We asked God to open the door that would lead us to you.  And Tuck, he did.   God showed up in that moment and ever so tenderly righted our feet, dusted off our shoulders, and opened the door that we know will lead us to you.

And so now we walk.  Sweet love, we’re coming for you.   Today we were assigned our caseworker, who will walk us through the early steps of your adoption.   We are adopting you as the tiniest of all babies, choosing you and carrying you in the same way I carried your brother and sister.  My love, we are ecstatic to begin walking this road to you, and yet….we’re scared, too.  We’re scared that we might walk through this process and still not find you; that we’ll come home with empty arms.   It’s a terrifying thought because we want you so desperately.  

But Tucker, daddy and I have chosen courage.  Courage to go where led and to fight for you.   We know you’re worth it.  We know God has set our feet on this path and we will walk it for Him, and we will walk it to you.   

Sometimes faith means trusting that God’s view squashes our Polaroid.  Sometimes it means boldly walking where others might not choose to go, and always it means rejecting our humanity and choosing to yield control to the One who so intimately holds us in His hands.  Tuck, sometimes faith means jumping when you can’t clearly see the landing spot.   It's a little bit terrifying, but oh what a view on the way down…and what a reward when you find yourself standing with two feet planted squarely on the mountaintop.   I think that’s what it truly means to put feet to your faith.      

So Tuck?  We’re jumping.   

Just a few hours ago, I got hopelessly lost while trying to pick up a pair of pants for your brother from someone's front porch, and as I pulled u-turns in driveways and drove up and down the same street over and over, peering at addresses and clearly searching for something very specific....Blake piped up from the backseat "What are we doing, mommy??  Are we looking for Tucker?  Is he coming home today??"

Do you see?  It's you.  We all know it.    And we won't stop until we find you.    

IVF Round 3: A letter to our twins

My precious ones,

Daddy and I have been waiting for meet you for almost four years.  In every moment of each of those days, and long before, you have been desperately wanted.  We prayed over your lives daily, we dreamt of our life with you both in it, and we planned our future around the needs we knew you’d have.  

We loved you well, and we loved you completely.

Last week daddy and I got the news that, rather into our arms, you have already been born into Heaven’s gates. 

Oh my loves, how our hearts broke with that news.  It wasn’t our plan, it wasn’t what we wanted, and now my arms ache with an emptiness I wasn’t fully aware of until you were gone.  I’m just missing you. 

I know our heartache is only a product of our humanity, because you two are growing up on streets of gold.  I know you’re being held and loved lavishly by the Creator of the Universe, and that thought brings such peace to my heart.  I know this Earth was never your home, and I know that our reunion is still to come.  But, again….I’m just missing you. I can’t wait to wrap my arms around you both, to introduce myself as your mama and to breathe you in for the very first time.  We’ll have an eternity together.  I know we haven’t lost either of you.

There are just a few lingering physical signs of you.  The fading bruise on the inside of my elbow where they drew blood for the beta test, a full Sharps container reminding me how daddy and I worked to prepare my body to carry you, the first picture of you on our fridge, and today….the beginning of my period, where I will shed the lining I had hoped would grow and sustain you both until you took your first breaths.  In some ways each passing day seems to take you further from me….and yet, I know they are also bringing us closer together.   

Last week, I took a home pregnancy test and saw the word “pregnant” appear on the digital screen.  It was early for an HPT to show a positive result, and our fertility clinic tells us not to take them at all, and yet….I’m so glad I did.  I had two days of positive pregnancy tests before our blood test showed a negative result.  I had two days where I carried you and knew you were there.  I had two days where we celebrated you and shared our news and rejoiced over your little lives growing inside of me.  Do you know what a gift that was to us?!  Our clinic told us it was a chemical pregnancy….my body miscarried you so early that it was almost like you were never there at all.  In fact, many women have chemical miscarriages and never even know it.  So do you see?  Even through our heartache over losing you, I’m so grateful for the gift of knowing you.  God has shown up again, as He has in every season of this journey, to remind me that your lives are not accidental and are not given or taken by chance.  He has always held you in His hands.  And He has always held me.  It was my honor to carry you, no matter the length of time.  It is and always will be my honor to be your mommy.  It’s all I ever wanted. 

With every ounce of love in my heart,

Mommy

Life Lessons for my Daughter

• Pursue a relationship with your Heavenly Father.  Baby girl, God is the author of love, and since before your birth He has been courting your heart; loving you in every moment and knitting together a master plan for your life that has been especially crafted for you.  There is no relationship with greater eternal significance.  Invest in it.  Daddy and I pray daily that you will live your life in hot pursuit of that truth.

• Learn what it means to serve.  It’s not enough to give lip service to your faith, you’ve got to immerse yourself in the business of loving others.  Serve as Jesus served.  Live it out every single day.  Baby girl, let Jesus be seen in you, and let that be your greatest witness.    

• You will never be too old for me to rock you.  If ever you need me, baby girl, I’ll be there.

• Don’t be afraid to go against the grain.  This world is broken, and it is not your home.  Let that be your battle cry!  Your citizenship is in heaven.  God has placed you in this moment in time for a specific purpose.  Find out what it is, and use your gifts to honor the King.

• Live boldly.  Realize your dreams.  Let yourself be what others only dream of.  There is truly nothing that you cannot do. Daddy and I believe in you with every fiber of our being.  We will always be your biggest fans. 

• Pray.  About big things, little things, and all the things in between.  And not just for the hurts and the fears--don’t forget to thank God for the blessings in your life.   

• Wait.  Sweet girl, at this very moment God has already set into motion the events that will put you on collision course with the man you will someday marry.  Wait for him.  I know that isn’t a popular decision in the world we live.  I know it will be hard.  But baby, it’s worth it.  There is truly no greater gift you can give to your husband on your wedding day than the gift of yourself.  Honor your body and the commitment you have made before God with your purity.  You’ll never regret it.

•  You.are.beautiful.  You are BEAUTIFUL.  True beauty starts from the heart and radiates outward like a beacon.  “Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.”  1 Peter 3:3-4 . Strive to be that kind of beautiful.  It never fades.

• See yourself the way God sees you.  Find your worth in Him alone, not in worldly standards.  My love, God looks at you and He sees His perfect daughter, who He has lovingly created and who He cherishes.  What on earth could possibly compare to that?  You are a daughter of the KING.  The Creator of the Universe loves YOU and is actively pursuing your heart with every breath you take.  When you lose sight of that, be intentional and remember the incredibly love of the Father. 

• Listen.  Don’t just wait for your chance to jump in on the conversation.  Listen when someone is speaking.   Hear what they’re saying. 

• Rescue others.  There will be times in your life when you’ll have to decide to either jump in or walk away.  It’s often easier to walk away.   I hope you jump every single time. 

• Be a woman of integrity.  It is increasingly rare.  Have the courage of your convictions, and don’t apologize for it.

• Be where you are.  Savor the seasons of your life and be present in each moment.  None of them are guaranteed.  Don’t spend so much time trying to get somewhere else that you miss out on the gift of today. 

• Listen to your brother’s advice.  Be best friends.  By his example, you’ll learn how boys should treat you.

• Someday, you may have your heart broken.  I promise it won’t be the end of the world, even though it may feel like it.  Heart break is an exquisite pain, because it teaches you about yourself and allows you a small glimpse into what it will mean to give your heart to your future husband and know that he will safeguard it.  That is a gift of marriage. 

• Set boundaries for yourself before you ever go on your first date.   Love is a paralyzing feeling; the moment can sweep you away in ways you never intended it to.  Be intentional.  Don’t put yourself in situations that could cause you to falter.  Good girls aren’t boring. 

• Be joyful.  Root for other people!  The success of others does not diminish your own.   Don’t waste your time comparing yourself to others or wishing you have the gifts of someone else.  Champion those around you!  Pour joy into the relationships in your life.

•  Be generous.  With your time, your money, and your heart.  If it’s yours, it’s by the grace of God.  Pay it forward.

• It’s okay to make mistakes.  Baby girl, we all stumble.  There have been so many times in my life where I have literally fallen flat on my face.  Where I’ve felt like I’ve let people down, dishonored God, missed opportunities.  What’s beautiful about those moments is the redemption.  God is just waiting to pick you back up.  He wants to dust you off, kiss your cheek and whisper reassurances to your heart that He loves you.  Nothing can change that.  Nothing can separate you from that love.  So embrace the fall.  Learn from it.  And keep right on walking.

• It takes courage to apologize.  More courage than it takes to refuse one.

• Your daddy has loved you better and longer than any boy you’ll ever meet.  Watch how he loves you.  Watch how he loves me.  Your daddy is a man who loves God first and loves his girls fierce.  Find that kind of man.

• Nothing you ever tell me could make me want to stop hearing from you.  Nothing.  You are a piece of my heart.  My love for you is unconditional.  Unconditional.

• Invest in your relationship with your Heavenly Father by investing your time.  Lean in and listen to what He is quietly laying on your heart.  Just like any relationship in life, if you don’t invest….it can’t grow.

• Womanhood is a gift.  So is femininity.  It is my great honor to be able to care for and serve my family in the home.  The world will try and tell you something different.  Ignore it.

• Be brave, even when you don’t feel brave.  Especially then.

• You can always come home.  

 

You are so loved, Lainey Rose.  Never forget.