Mother's Day

Mother's Day is this week. I dread it. All the happy celebration of moms, the overwhelming TV ads, store displays, emails and Hallmark cards. I am bombarded by reminders that I have no living children. It pierces through my soul like a hot knife. A day that is so happy for so many, and should be happy for me, is a painful reminder of what should have been. Mother's Day is a day of celebration and joy for most people - and it should be! But for some of us, it is a very difficult day. It comes with pain and tears, and memories of the babies we once carried in our wombs. As Mother's Day approaches, I find myself filling up with anxiety. I am surrounded by pregnant women and new moms celebrating their very first Mother's Day. I can't even go to church this Sunday. Being at a new church I don't know how they handle Mother's Day...but I know from 34 years of experience that churches tend to make a big deal of it. And they should. Moms are the ones who give us life, and that is to be celebrated! But I can't handle it. I can't sit there and watch all the other women be celebrated while I suffer in silence. It is too painful.

I have promised to be gentle with myself this week. It may be that I'll be able to go about my week and be fine. But it may also be that I will need to take moments to take a step back. To sit and cry, to write, to sing, or to do whatever will help me through the tough moments. I don't know when or if those moments will come, but if they do I have given myself permission to take the time I need to endure them. And I just want all my friends and family to know, that if I don't seem particularly excited, or even interested, in Mother's Day it's not because I don't love and honor mothers. It's not because I am selfish or want attention or anything of a sort. It's because Sunday is a day that is just downright painful for me. I haven't quite figured out how to handle it, either. And that's ok. If people have a problem with it, well, to be honest that's their problem not mine. I deal with this week and this day as it comes, and sometimes I am ok and sometimes I am not. And this week, I am giving myself permission to be whatever I am at the moment. If you are a bereaved momma, please give yourself the same permission. Nobody but you knows what you feel inside. Nobody but you knows how easy or difficult Mother's Day might be for you. Nobody can tell you how to handle it. Be gentle with yourself dear momma, and take the moments you need to help yourself through this week.

I also want to tell the world one more thing...and you may think I am crazy, but frankly I don't really care what anyone else thinks. What I want to tell the world is this:

I AM A MOTHER.

My children aren't here on Earth, but God gave me the honor and the responsibility to carry two beautiful souls inside me. Even if it was only for a short time, they were here. I saw them both on an ultrasound screen. I heard our first baby's heart beat. God entrusted them to me for a time, and then He called them home. With both of those tiny babies, my body labored. I was in tremendous pain for days as my body tried to expel them. I delivered both of them at home, privately in my bathroom, with only my husband nearby. I cried in agony, both from the tremendous physical pain, and from the emotional pain. I cried out to God, asking him WHY?!? It is a pain I do not wish on anyone.

But the fact remains. I AM A MOTHER. If you have had a miscarriage, or a stillborn baby, or lost a baby after birth - YOU are also a MOTHER. I am tired of having to pretend that my babies weren't significant. I will meet them one day, I am sure of it. I pray that God also gives me children to tend to and love while here on Earth and watch them grow into adults. I will not give up on that. But I love my angel babies in heaven just the same.

I can't tell you how to treat your bereaved momma friends this Mother's Day, because every bereaved momma handles it differently. For me, I will celebrate with my mother, for she is the one who gave me life! I love my mother for the beautiful woman she is, and I will celebrate her. I will celebrate my grandmother, who has always been like a second mother to me. But outside of my immediate family, while the rest of the world is telling all the women of the world how wonderful they are because they are mothers, I will simply stay away. Away from the media, away from Facebook, away from all the reminders that the world shoves onto me that my motherhood will not be celebrated. Instead, I will sit quietly in prayer and talk to my angel babies, telling them that their Earthly mother loves them and I look forward to meeting them someday. And I will thank God for entrusting me to care for them for a short time, and thank Him for taking care of them in Heaven while I finish what He has for me to do on Earth. That is how I will celebrate my motherhood and honor my heavenly children this Mother's Day.

God Heals the Broken

This weekend was joyful and painful at the same time. Joyful celebrating my grandmother's 90th birthday, and seeing family I haven't seen in a long time. Joyful celebrating the resurrection of Jesus Christ in the most powerful and uplifting Easter Sunday service I've ever been honored to be a part of. Yes, there was much joy and celebration this weekend!

But there was also pain. This weekend we should have been celebrating our first child's first birthday. He or she was supposed to arrive around April 21st. Instead, our family remains incomplete and childless. 

God has kept me busy around my would-be due date the past two years. Last year, on the day I should have been delivering a baby, I ran my 2nd 5K. I didn't have time to think about what was missing because I was too busy trying to make it to the finish line. This year I was consumed with planning my grandmother's 90th birthday party and preparing for Easter Sunday services. Thank you Lord for keeping me occupied during this time!

There were a few moments this weekend when I felt the tears well up behind my eyes. I remember watching my nephews & niece play in my parents' backyard, wondering what it would be like with my son or daughter playing with them. I remember holding my 10 month old nephew, seeing such joy in his eyes and laughter in his voice. I looked for signs of my sister and my brother-in-law in him, wondering what our baby would look like. Would he/she have my nose? My husband's eyes? Whose hair would he/she get? It's crazy to think that twice now, there has been life inside me, being stitched together by God, just the perfect fusion of me and my husband...that was taken away all too soon.

There was a moment this weekend when I was reminded that God has the power to heal. Our church showed a video of several people facing battles and how God has restored them. Naturally, there was a couple in the video who had battled infertility and miscarriage and are now pregnant. The tears came, of course, but in that moment I was reminded that we are not done fighting this battle. We press on, despite the challenges. We keep going, we keep trying, we keep believing that at the end of this long road there is a child waiting for us. In the midst of this battle it is often hard to keep going. So many times I have wanted to give up. So many times I have thought, "is this really worth it?" The answer to that is yes, it is worth it. It is worth every agonizing moment.

My husband and I started watching a series called "The Bible" on Netflix last night (the same series that aired sometime last year). In the very first episode, they portrayed the story of Abraham and Sarah. God promised Abraham that Sarah would bear a son, and He did. Sarah waited many, many years for her son, but God fulfilled His promise. I was reminded last night of the dream I had years ago of my daughter Elizabeth Grace. I know that God has made me a promise, and I know that He will fulfill it. God will heal my womb, I am certain of it. I just have to have faith that He knows what He is doing. Is it always easy? No. Sometimes it seems downright impossible. But I know without a doubt that God is already working on healing me. He already knows when my husband and I will have children, and who they will be and what THEY will have to eventually overcome. He knows, because He has already written our story. 

The other day I was again pondering why it is that my husband and I have been put through this struggle. It is painful, it is agonizing, it makes me question everything I believe in. It has strained relationships...some of which have not survived. It has made me see the world much differently than I did 2 years ago. I am different because of what I have gone through. God has cleansed my soul and made me new. He knew that I would be broken into a million pieces, and slowly be put back together, each piece stronger than it was before. God knew this would be hard on me, but He also knew I was strong enough to endure it. And I also know that He heals, and I have more faith than ever before that He is already healing me. It just took me this long to believe it.

Whatever you are facing, GOD IS WITH YOU.

He is guiding you - TRUST Him

He has created a path for you - FOLLOW Him.

He says He will heal you - BELIEVE Him.

He knows what is best for you - Have FAITH in Him.

Letting Go

I've been putting off writing this blog...because it's a difficult one for me to write. It's not even one that I necessarily WANT to write, but I know I have to. I've started writing this several times over the past few weeks and never quite got through it until now.

Let me back up a bit, so you all understand where I'm coming from. It is amazing to me how God puts us in exactly the right situation at exactly the right time. This past fall, my husband and I made a heart-wrenching decision to leave our church. It was a church that we both loved and had helped us grow in our faith tremendously. We were married in that church and met some of our closest friends at that church. The worship team that I was a part of there was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. But as much as we loved it there, we also knew it wasn't the right place for us anymore. So with heavy hearts we said our goodbyes and ventured out into the world of what I call "church shopping."

It took awhile, but in January my husband and I finally felt like we had found our new church home. I can't quite explain it, but at some point my husband and I just looked at each other and said, "we belong here." This church has challenged our faith in so many ways in the short time we've been there, and every single sermon has spoken to us in a unique way. Through this season of our lives, we have been led through some tough questions, challenges, and revelations given to us by God through the pastors on Sunday mornings. My husband and I have worked through a lot over the past few months. There is no doubt in our mind that God brought us to this particular church, at this particular time in our lives, to listen to these particular people speak, to work through these particular obstacles that we are facing.

About a month ago I experienced one of the most powerful services I can remember in my lifetime. I've certainly had my share of grief over the past two years. I knew the topic of the sermon going in, and expected I might shed a few tears...but I was in no way prepared for what happened to me in that hour.

Our pastor spoke about grief, and how we deal with grief when we've experienced loss and "hit the wall" of faith so to speak. How sometimes we have to sit at that wall for awhile before we can push through it, and then how we push through it to experience God on a whole new level. I've been sitting at this wall for quite awhile, afraid of what might happen if I push through. I've pushed through walls of faith before, I've been through times of darkness. But this time has been so different for so many reasons. I've been afraid to walk through that wall. I'm still afraid, but as an act of obedience to God I have started to push through this wall. It's not easy, but it is making me grow as a person.

During the service, our pastor had us reflect on our losses. There was a little survey in the bulletin where we were to write (fill in the blank style) about our losses. What our loss was. How we felt when we experienced that loss. Those were easy to fill out. When I lost my babies, I was angry, hurt, sad, confused, questioning "why," betrayed...basically every negative emotion a human can feel. Writing these things down brought all the emotions back to the forefront of my mind. Tears began to fall. Our pastor spoke a little more, telling the story of when he lost his father and helping us work through the emotions we were all feeling. How we had to let go of our losses and give the to God in order to be able to move on. It doesn't mean we don't love the people we lost. It doesn't mean we never think about them. It doesn't even mean we're ever done saying goodbye. I don't think there was a dry eye in the room.

And then came the hard part. Letting go. I remember this moment clear as day. The sentence read "Now, I am letting go. I am saying goodbye to                     ." As the tears started streaming down my cheeks, I knew I had to write it. But I didn't WANT to write it. My hands trembled. I felt my husband put his arm around me. We hadn't spoken one word since the service started, but we both knew what the other was thinking. In that moment, I let God's spirit take over me and I felt him say to me, "you have to write this. I know you don't want to, but you have to. It's ok, I've got you." My pen hovered over that blank line for what felt like an eternity. Finally, as the music began to play, and as an act of obedience to God, I wrote it: "my babies."

I don't remember much of the next few minutes. I know there was music, and I know I couldn't sing because every time I tried more tears came. I know I felt the spirit of God surrounding me like I hadn't felt in a long time. There were hundreds of people in the room, but at that very moment it felt like it was just me, my husband, and God. I pictured my babies being scooped up into God's loving arms. I said a silent prayer, telling God that I trusted Him to take care of them until I came home to meet them. Even now as I write this, tears are streaming down my cheeks once again.

I know I was supposed to be in that very place on that Sunday morning. God had work to do with me and my husband that day. My husband and I came home that afternoon and we wrote a note to our angel babies. We told them that we love them, and that we look forward to meeting them in heaven. We told them that they have people in heaven that love them, and people here on Earth that love them. And we told them that God will take care of them while we are still here on Earth. We signed it "Mommy & Daddy" and sealed it in an envelope.

I received a Chinese lantern at a conference in January. I was never sure how I was going to use it until that morning. My husband and I have decided that, as a symbol of releasing our angel babies to God in heaven, we are going to release this Chinese lantern with the note we wrote to our babies. Because of our schedules and this crazy weather we've been having, we haven't yet found a night that we have been able to do it. But we will. It is something that will help us in the healing process, since we never got to have funerals for our babies. There was never anything we did that symbolized them going to heaven so that we could say goodbye and have closure. Now we have that.

I've realized through all this that I haven't been able to move on and heal because I haven't been able to close the door to the past. I love the babies we lost, but dwelling on the losses will not help me heal. I have come full-circle on one of the most difficult years of my life...two miscarriages and losing my cousin. It was rough. I've finally been able to let go and say goodbye. Does it mean I'll never grieve again? No. Grief can last a lifetime. There will always be reminders around us of those we lost. There will be times we wish we could share moments with them. We will always miss them. But to be able to move on is important. To say goodbye is important. I said goodbye to my babies as an act of obedience...it wasn't because I wanted to. But God knew I needed to, and God always knows better than I do!

I'm in a better place of healing now. I'm listening to God better now. I am pushing through the wall of faith that I've been sitting at for so long, afraid of what's on the other side. And you know what? I'm liking what's on the other side. I'm not quite there yet, but I am seeing glimpses of what is coming...and it is wonderful. God will provide, and if you only just take the time to listen to Him, He will guide you through. Rarely is it ever easy, but always it is worth it.

"Come near to God and he will come near to you." -James 4:8

Carry Each Other's Burdens

My husband and I attended a fundraising dinner over the weekend for a non-profit organization founded by two of our good friends. Their mission is to offer a safe place for people to go where they can talk to someone about their struggles. It's a wonderful organization that has helped so many people, and I admire our friends' strength as they listen to the world's burdens and, I imagine, hear some really painful stories. It takes very special people to do what they do. They have helped me in my own struggles as well.

The speaker for the evening was phenomenal. Deeply profound, yet able to put a hilarious twist on every day life. He talked about how important it is for people to have someone they can talk to. How important the connections we have as humans are. His whole speech was centered around this one Bible verse:

Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. -Galatians 6:2

The speaker kept coming back to this verse, repeating it several times throughout his speech. He drove the point home: We are to take part in carrying each other's burdens. This is part of being a child of God. No one should be left to carry life's burdens alone.

Too often we get so caught up in our own lives and our own struggles that we fail to see the people around us who are also struggling. I am guilty of this myself, we all are. Life gets busy, we focus on our own needs and where we have to get to next. I heard a story this weekend of someone that was so wrapped up in his own work that he failed to see that someone was reaching to him for help...and that person later took their own life. When I heard that, I thought wow, how many times have I failed to see past my own busy life and take the time to listen to someone who really needed help? I could tell you a handful of times this has happened...but I am sure there are many more times of which I am completely unaware.

So how do we become more mindful of others' struggles? How do we help them carry their burdens, as God intended for us to do? It starts with being more observant - seeing the world with open eyes, past our own struggles and the worries of every day life. It means taking the time to listen, to ask that question "do you need to talk?", even when it means putting our own lives aside for a moment. It means letting people know you care. It means taking the time even when you don't think you have the time. It means praying with people or for people (yes, even those you don't particularly like!). Sometimes it's just a hug, or a smile. But always, it's doing things for people with LOVE.

I was reminded today of the reason why I started this blog. HOPE. I didn't start it to get attention, or sympathy, or anything of a sort. I didn't start it to cause arguments with people who don't understand my struggles (though this once in awhile has been an unfortunate side effect). No, I started this blog because when I was facing the road of infertility, I discovered it was a long, lonely road. Many people stand on the side of the road and try to help, but they don't really know how. Once in awhile I come across someone else walking the road with me, and we connect in a way that I can't connect with anyone else. But those people are few and far between...although I know there are others. There are others who feel like they are alone, navigating a confusing and often hopeless road that offers very few (if any) answers. I want those people to know they are not alone. I am walking with you, right beside you, holding your hand, grabbing your arm and letting you lean on me when you're too weak to walk on your own. Sometimes I'm leaning right back against you, and we slowly move forward leaning on each other. We are helping each other carry this burden. And when the burden becomes too heavy for the both of us to carry, God reaches down and carries it for us. Sometimes He carries US, because we are just too devastated and broken to walk at all. 

But it is my hope that this blog will reach far beyond the world of infertility. I write about it because it is my burden, and others who feel lonely will now have someone to share that burden. But my hope is that others who are struggling will find this blog and be able to find hope and love here as well.

We are not alone in our struggles. We carry each others' burdens, because we are God's children and that is how He meant it to be.

Beautiful Things

As I was on the treadmill this afternoon, the song "Beautiful Things" starting playing in my earbuds. Normally this isn't the type of song I would play when working out. It's not exactly an upbeat go get 'em pump it up type of song. But I was in the middle of one of my runs when it came on and struggling to get through it, and I didn't want to waste any energy picking up my iPhone and hitting the "next" button. I needed all the energy I could muster to get through my workout today.

I often think that God gives me exactly the song I need to hear at exactly the right moment. This was one of those moments. As crazy as it sounds, this afternoon I believe was a turning point for me. All it took was a song you say? Well, I AM a musician after all! In all seriousness though, sometimes it's a small moment in time that makes the biggest difference. It's not always a huge event. Sometimes it's just 3 minutes on a treadmill on an ordinary day.

You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us.

As I listened, I knew that God was...IS going to make something beautiful out of me, out of my life. We are human, which means there is a lot of ugliness inside us. It is our nature. But God takes that ugliness and shapes it into something beautiful. He takes our trials and pain and turns it into something good. He loves ALL of us, including every little imperfection in us. It's hard to remember this sometimes. It's hard to remember that even our ugly imperfections are a part of who we are, who God made us to be. Sometimes it's hard not to focus on the ugliness. Sometimes it consumes you.

I realized today that I've been letting FEAR consume me. Fear of the unknown. Fear of failure. What if I'm never a mom? What if I don't meet my business goals? What if I can't lose weight again? What if I never do anything with my music again? I've had days these past few weeks when I couldn't leave the couch. I've ignored phone calls because I simply don't want to talk to anyone. Days have gone by where the only things I accomplished were waking up and feeding myself. To say I've been in a real funk and have had trouble pulling myself out of it. Why have I let this happen? HOW did I let it happen? Fear sneaks up on you sometimes. First it's just little things...and then it slowly builds. It snowballs into a giant avalanche until you realize you're about to fall off a very high cliff. Hopefully you wake up and climb back up the mountain. Sometimes it takes someone else to help you climb...or even to help you realize where you are.

My husband, God bless him, is a very quiet and patient man. On days when I just can't seem to do anything, he picks up the slack and does things like cook dinner and go on ice cream runs. It must be difficult as a husband to know when to say something to your wife, especially since we women tend to be a tad bit (ok a lot) more emotional than men. My husband wants to be sympathetic and just give me a shoulder to cry on. I appreciate that so much. But over the weekend, my husband finally said something to me about this funk I've been in...and that I appreciate so much more. We had a lengthy discussion about it, which turned into another lengthy discussion about what to do about having a baby. We now we have a new plan, and a new deadline for pursuing fertility treatments that I am comfortable with. We are holding off a little bit longer because we realize that I need to take care of myself right now. That was a difficult decision to make, but we both know it is the right one. Kudos to my husband for having the courage to say what I needed to hear, even if I didn't want to hear it at the time.

Fear holds us back. It consumes us if we let it. We have faith in God but are consumed by fear...but fear does not come from God. Fear is from the enemy. The enemy does not want you to win. The enemy doesn't want you to succeed. The enemy doesn't want you to do God's will. The enemy plants fears into our hearts and minds to hold us back from what God wants us to do. But you know what?

FEAR AND FAITH CANNOT LIVE IN THE SAME HOUSE!!!

We all have, and will have in the future, battles with fear. I am in the midst of a huge battle with fear. But I will not let fear win. I can choose to wallow in my own self-pity about the past few weeks, or I can get up and dust myself off and move forward. I choose to move forward. 

God will make beautiful things out of us if we only let Him. God will put the pieces in front of us, he will lay out the path...but it is our choice whether or not we pick up those pieces and walk that path. That's the beauty of the free will God gave us. We don't always know what He is doing. We can't see His plan for us...but we can open our eyes to the things He lays before us.

Sometimes, it's just a song you hear while running on a treadmill.