August 1st is rapidly approaching.
Has it really been almost a year?
I miss her so much today. Holding my son, thinking how wonderful he is, my thoughts stray to my daughter. Life is so precious I desperately wish I had been given more time with her on earth.
I do not want her life to be only considered in tears, though. She brought joy to my husband and I. And in her brief life and in her death I have learned amazing truths this past year. A summary of these things follow.
God is faithful. He is good. In the lowest and darkest of places He is there. His grace is sufficient. After Lydia's heartbeat was not found, I felt I could not go through labor and delivery, a funeral, and life after that moment. Only by the strength and grace of God I have. Christ is with me in my suffering and pain, He loves me, and I have felt closer to Him in this valley than I ever have. In all things, God is good.
Heaven is real and more wonderful than we know. Death is not something I fear. Through this past year, my desire for things in this life has lessened and Christ's return has become more desired. In the past I have felt a greater tie to the things in this world. I wanted to go to heaven, I wanted Christ to return, but I still held on to things I wanted to do or accomplish or experience before that. I am not where I should be in this regard, but I now have such joyful anticipation for Christ's return. I am ready for Him to come; I am ready to meet my Redeemer face to face. I can think of nothing I want to do or accomplish or experience first. This past year God has been teaching me to live more in light of eternity with my sight on the things above.
God is the giver of life. He makes babies. He decides how long each person lives. The life He gives, no matter the amount of time here on earth, is a gift. It is a precious blessing.
Trials, pain, and suffering can strengthen or dissolve relationships. I have experienced both this year. I am most grateful that it has strengthened my marriage. I have a closer bond and deeper relationship with my husband now.
Lastly, I am learning how to respond and interact with others in their pain and suffering. God "comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God."
(2 Corinthians 1:4)
Lydia Grace
Our first child, Lydia Grace
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Blessing of our Baby
I have had good intentions on writing a joyful post regarding the birth of our son, Isaiah. However, my free moments are typically spent in something other than blogging; namely, sleeping, eating, cleaning/doing laundry. Although the fact I've lost all my pregnancy weight in two weeks time and the chaotic state of our house suggest sleep is the activity of choice when presented with an opportunity. Though sleep probably is not accurate, more like "cat naps" between constant breastfeeding (ready to eat every hour and a half to two hours during the day?) and other duties.
The brief story:
My husband and I arrived at the hospital just before 7 a.m. on Thursday, June 9. The pitocin was started around 8 a.m. My labor progressed quickly throughout the morning and, following an epidural, my water was broken by my OB around lunch time. The pitocin was stopped and my body naturally continued in labor.
My mother, mother-in-law, sister-in-law, niece, brother, and great aunt were there for most of the day, waiting for Isaiah's arrival.
Isaiah Drew was born at 8:08p.m. that evening. He weighed 7 pounds 9 ounces (I guessed he would be that exact weight earlier that day!!), measured 20 3/4 inches long and is perfect. It was beautiful to hear him cry, watch him move and stretch wide-eyed.
We were able to leave the hospital Saturday morning. It has been wonderful having him at home. He is so precious and sweet, a very good-natured and laid back baby. I am so thankful for him!
The brief story:
My husband and I arrived at the hospital just before 7 a.m. on Thursday, June 9. The pitocin was started around 8 a.m. My labor progressed quickly throughout the morning and, following an epidural, my water was broken by my OB around lunch time. The pitocin was stopped and my body naturally continued in labor.
My mother, mother-in-law, sister-in-law, niece, brother, and great aunt were there for most of the day, waiting for Isaiah's arrival.
Isaiah Drew was born at 8:08p.m. that evening. He weighed 7 pounds 9 ounces (I guessed he would be that exact weight earlier that day!!), measured 20 3/4 inches long and is perfect. It was beautiful to hear him cry, watch him move and stretch wide-eyed.
We were able to leave the hospital Saturday morning. It has been wonderful having him at home. He is so precious and sweet, a very good-natured and laid back baby. I am so thankful for him!
 |
| less than 24 hours old |
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Induction Anticipation
As I feared, sleep eludes me tonight. Not that sleep has come easily or lasted through the night in the last few weeks, but I was hoping to get some rest tonight. Joyful anticipation and an uncomfortably pregnant body keep me awake. In six hours (probably less by the time I finish this post) I will be checking into the hospital for my induction.
The last eight weeks of pregnancy have s-l-o-w-l-y passed. They have definitely been the most difficult. I am glad this part of the journey is coming to a close. Over 100 injections, numerous doctor's appointments and sonograms, many prayers and fears, and three visits to the hospital later: it is time. With a gestational age of 38 weeks, 2 days, Isaiah will be born.
I am not anxious about the labor, I've done that before and have no qualms about getting an epidural to relieve pain. I am ready to get these contractions going so I can hold this little one in my arms. I anticipate feeling relief along with all the other emotions I will feel. Relief that he is outside of my womb where I can hold him, see him, hear him cry, watch him breathe and move.
I am one excited mama tonight!
The last eight weeks of pregnancy have s-l-o-w-l-y passed. They have definitely been the most difficult. I am glad this part of the journey is coming to a close. Over 100 injections, numerous doctor's appointments and sonograms, many prayers and fears, and three visits to the hospital later: it is time. With a gestational age of 38 weeks, 2 days, Isaiah will be born.
I am not anxious about the labor, I've done that before and have no qualms about getting an epidural to relieve pain. I am ready to get these contractions going so I can hold this little one in my arms. I anticipate feeling relief along with all the other emotions I will feel. Relief that he is outside of my womb where I can hold him, see him, hear him cry, watch him breathe and move.
I am one excited mama tonight!
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Baby Shower Blessing
A baby shower for my little Isaiah came to pass a few weeks ago! My sister-in-law did an incredible job putting it all together in a week.
Fun game we played.
It was a great afternoon with friends and family. The shower was meaningful and special to me.
Having a baby shower is such a normal thing for mothers to enjoy and I am very thankful I was able to have one for our little boy.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Answering that dreaded question
"Is this your first?"
I am asked that question almost everywhere I go.
And my answer is different, even in the same day.
It is not a simple questions for us mothers who have lost little ones in this way.
Everyone is always excited about pregnancy and babies and are so enthusiastic in their questions, especially over a first child. But it is the question I dread.
Today, following this question, I gave two different responses. To the first woman who asked today, I said, "yes", indicating this is my first child. I immediately regretted my response, feeling guilt, apologizing internally to my daughter, considering going back and telling the stranger that this was not my first baby, my first baby is already in heaven.
Later today when asked the same question, I said, "no, it's our second". In that conversation, it was sufficient and no further questions were asked. No need to explain. A response that left me with no guilt.
However, the line of questioning does not typically stop at that point. The following questions usually involve a question about whether my first is a boy or girl, or the child's age. One woman asked if my first was excited about the new baby and I said yes. (is that considered a lie? with such joy in heaven, isn't she joyful?) Other questions force explanations and my response then also varies.
I have tried the response, "My first is in heaven", both to the initial question about my pregnancy being with my first as well as to the subsequent questions that all to frequently follow. It makes for some awkward situations where the questioner looks quite uncomfortable and drops the topic or leaves the conversation entirely. Sometimes an apology comes with the look of horror, but not always. I think it just shocks most people.
I've tried a direct, "my first was stillborn" and it brings the same awkwardness and end to the conversation. I think I have yet to meet someone who responds in any other way.
Either I have guilt for saying "yes, this one is my first" or it is a conversation ender for me to say, "no, I lost my first." My husband consistently answers "no, this is my second", but he has never been asked the follow-up questions. Then there is my mother who sees and verbally acknowledges Isaiah as her first and only grandchild, but that is another topic entirely.
Ten months later and I am inconsistent in responding and struggle with the question. Maybe I always will. But what feels best to me is stating how things are and letting that person feel what they feel. They may feel uncomfortable, but they don't live with it daily. It might not make new friends, but so be it. Maybe one day my honesty will allow someone else to be open about the same thing.
I am asked that question almost everywhere I go.
And my answer is different, even in the same day.
It is not a simple questions for us mothers who have lost little ones in this way.
Everyone is always excited about pregnancy and babies and are so enthusiastic in their questions, especially over a first child. But it is the question I dread.
Today, following this question, I gave two different responses. To the first woman who asked today, I said, "yes", indicating this is my first child. I immediately regretted my response, feeling guilt, apologizing internally to my daughter, considering going back and telling the stranger that this was not my first baby, my first baby is already in heaven.
Later today when asked the same question, I said, "no, it's our second". In that conversation, it was sufficient and no further questions were asked. No need to explain. A response that left me with no guilt.
However, the line of questioning does not typically stop at that point. The following questions usually involve a question about whether my first is a boy or girl, or the child's age. One woman asked if my first was excited about the new baby and I said yes. (is that considered a lie? with such joy in heaven, isn't she joyful?) Other questions force explanations and my response then also varies.
I have tried the response, "My first is in heaven", both to the initial question about my pregnancy being with my first as well as to the subsequent questions that all to frequently follow. It makes for some awkward situations where the questioner looks quite uncomfortable and drops the topic or leaves the conversation entirely. Sometimes an apology comes with the look of horror, but not always. I think it just shocks most people.
I've tried a direct, "my first was stillborn" and it brings the same awkwardness and end to the conversation. I think I have yet to meet someone who responds in any other way.
Either I have guilt for saying "yes, this one is my first" or it is a conversation ender for me to say, "no, I lost my first." My husband consistently answers "no, this is my second", but he has never been asked the follow-up questions. Then there is my mother who sees and verbally acknowledges Isaiah as her first and only grandchild, but that is another topic entirely.
Ten months later and I am inconsistent in responding and struggle with the question. Maybe I always will. But what feels best to me is stating how things are and letting that person feel what they feel. They may feel uncomfortable, but they don't live with it daily. It might not make new friends, but so be it. Maybe one day my honesty will allow someone else to be open about the same thing.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Baby Showers and Mother's Day
BABY SHOWER
Yesterday was the date of my baby shower that has been postponed. This is the second baby shower planned for me and my baby that has not come to pass. Lydia went to heaven before her baby shower on earth and this time the shower was cancelled/postponed due to the events of last weekend. We had to make a decision on whether or not we should have the shower and based on how I was feeling at the hospital, a shower was not something I felt I was ready to enjoy.
I will admit I threw a little pity party on Friday.
I complained to my husband tirelessly about how it was not fair that this was my second missed baby shower, how I will never get to enjoy a baby shower, and how I had many expectations of how my baby shower would be. He got to the point that he said he would plan and throw a baby shower for me himself if that is what needed to happen. I tried to gain some perspective on the issue. A shower of sorts is still in the works for after Isaiah's arrival. Yet it sounded so fun to have it in anticipation of his arrival, so I feel a little cheated of this traditional part of pregnancy that many women take for granted.
MOTHER'S DAY
This is the second Mother's Day in a row that I am pregnant. I should have a baby to proudly take with me to visit my mother today. I'm praying next Mother's Day will look differently.
It's funny how Mother's Day is about our mothers, but when you've lost a baby all you can think about is the baby you lost on Mother's Day: your role as a mother to a little one in heaven.
My husband and others have been very thoughtful in wishing me a Happy Mother's Day. Maybe since I am at home with my husband and pups, this holiday does not seem as sorrowful. We did not go to church or see family, I think that helped to not face all of that (as if I have much choice at the moment).
Today I celebrate being a mother to one baby in heaven and another very close to entering the world.
My husband and others have been very thoughtful in wishing me a Happy Mother's Day. Maybe since I am at home with my husband and pups, this holiday does not seem as sorrowful. We did not go to church or see family, I think that helped to not face all of that (as if I have much choice at the moment).
 |
| First Mother's Day with Isaiah |
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Contractions, Contractions, go away!
It was a crazy weekend! Thursday night I had contractions too strong and too regular to be Braxton Hicks. My husband wanted to know if he should take me to the hospital. I was indecisive and fearful that going to the hospital would be admitting something was wrong. It brought up so much anxiety after the experience with Lydia.
The contractions stopped after midnight Thursday and I fell asleep. Friday I had a few more contractions, though not as regularly as the previous night. Since it was a Friday I thought it best to check in with my OB before the weekend. I called and left a message for her medical staff. My call was returned and I was told to come that afternoon for another non-stress test.
In less than an hour I had five or six contractions (not good at 32 weeks, 3 days). My OB was out of town for a conference which sparked another panic in me. (She was also not available initially when I was in the hospital with Lydia, coming later that day when available). Her nurse practitioner examined me, determining I was already dilated 2 cm. She spoke with my OBon the phone and sent me immediately to the hospital.
I was quickly roomed and an IV was started. Then we had to wait. And wait. And wait for the on-call OB to visit and consult with my Dr. before beginning any treatment. I was lying in bed, still having contractions, panicking because no one could do anything until a doctor called the orders. Fortunately, they were keeping constant monitor of Baby Isaiah's heartbeat (and my contractions), so we knew he was doing alright. After much longer than expected, the on-call OB, who I really liked, came and gave me the protocol for treatment, directed by my Dr.
An IV of magnesium sulfate was started and I was on that for 48 hours. It felt like fire was being inserted into my veins when the bolus dose started. The intensity abated, but I remained warm and felt yucky the whole time I received the mag. Also with magnesium you absolutely cannot leave the bed and it requires hourly checks, around the clock, by the nurse to monitor lungs, temperature, reflexes, etc. My contractions stopped, then started again, eventually stopping entirely. I was also given two steroid injections to prepare baby's lungs for delivery in case we had to deliver early.
I stayed relatively composed and not too anxious until after the crisis. It was one of those things where you can hold it together for so long while you address the problem and then you panic/become anxious/scared/tearful. Early Sunday morning I woke during yet another check from a nurse. She left and I was lying there awake, still on the magnesium. I could hear Isaiah's heartbeat. At my request I asked for the sound to be constantly loud enough for me to hear. It provided comfort. My husband and my families had gone home the previous night. He was sleeping soundly beside me. Then I started worrying. More than I had been up until that point.
It was Sunday, the first of May. Just nine months previously, on Sunday, the first of August Lydia had been stillborn. I cried and prayed, missed my first baby while being thankful for my second. Then my mind starts to catastrophize and I wonder if we will loose Isaiah too. Here we are, same hospital, same day of the week, same date of the month with problems in pregnancy...it was an emotional morning.
I was taken off the magnesium Sunday evening and did not start having contractions. Monday morning my OB examined me and discharged me from the hospital. We had been there since Friday, so it was very nice to be going home. I am on bed rest now and on meds that are used to treat high blood pressure. It is a smooth muscle relaxant --it relaxes the muscles in the uterus to keep them from contracting. It also lowers my already low blood pressure. Which is one of the reasons why I'm only allowed to shower every other day, sitting down, with assistance, among other activity restrictions.
I know so many have been praying for me and Isaiah. God is the giver of life and is the One to be thanked for my health, Isaiah's health, the contractions stopping, etc. I am thankful God has given us family who care so much, a good physician and nurses, the medical knowledge and discoveries we have to help with pregnancies and pre-term labor.
Here I am on bedrest. 33 weeks 2 days pregnant with our second. Praying he stays in there until at least 36 weeks. I know things can change at any minute, but I am resting easily now.
The contractions stopped after midnight Thursday and I fell asleep. Friday I had a few more contractions, though not as regularly as the previous night. Since it was a Friday I thought it best to check in with my OB before the weekend. I called and left a message for her medical staff. My call was returned and I was told to come that afternoon for another non-stress test.
In less than an hour I had five or six contractions (not good at 32 weeks, 3 days). My OB was out of town for a conference which sparked another panic in me. (She was also not available initially when I was in the hospital with Lydia, coming later that day when available). Her nurse practitioner examined me, determining I was already dilated 2 cm. She spoke with my OBon the phone and sent me immediately to the hospital.
I was quickly roomed and an IV was started. Then we had to wait. And wait. And wait for the on-call OB to visit and consult with my Dr. before beginning any treatment. I was lying in bed, still having contractions, panicking because no one could do anything until a doctor called the orders. Fortunately, they were keeping constant monitor of Baby Isaiah's heartbeat (and my contractions), so we knew he was doing alright. After much longer than expected, the on-call OB, who I really liked, came and gave me the protocol for treatment, directed by my Dr.
An IV of magnesium sulfate was started and I was on that for 48 hours. It felt like fire was being inserted into my veins when the bolus dose started. The intensity abated, but I remained warm and felt yucky the whole time I received the mag. Also with magnesium you absolutely cannot leave the bed and it requires hourly checks, around the clock, by the nurse to monitor lungs, temperature, reflexes, etc. My contractions stopped, then started again, eventually stopping entirely. I was also given two steroid injections to prepare baby's lungs for delivery in case we had to deliver early.
I stayed relatively composed and not too anxious until after the crisis. It was one of those things where you can hold it together for so long while you address the problem and then you panic/become anxious/scared/tearful. Early Sunday morning I woke during yet another check from a nurse. She left and I was lying there awake, still on the magnesium. I could hear Isaiah's heartbeat. At my request I asked for the sound to be constantly loud enough for me to hear. It provided comfort. My husband and my families had gone home the previous night. He was sleeping soundly beside me. Then I started worrying. More than I had been up until that point.
It was Sunday, the first of May. Just nine months previously, on Sunday, the first of August Lydia had been stillborn. I cried and prayed, missed my first baby while being thankful for my second. Then my mind starts to catastrophize and I wonder if we will loose Isaiah too. Here we are, same hospital, same day of the week, same date of the month with problems in pregnancy...it was an emotional morning.
I was taken off the magnesium Sunday evening and did not start having contractions. Monday morning my OB examined me and discharged me from the hospital. We had been there since Friday, so it was very nice to be going home. I am on bed rest now and on meds that are used to treat high blood pressure. It is a smooth muscle relaxant --it relaxes the muscles in the uterus to keep them from contracting. It also lowers my already low blood pressure. Which is one of the reasons why I'm only allowed to shower every other day, sitting down, with assistance, among other activity restrictions.
I know so many have been praying for me and Isaiah. God is the giver of life and is the One to be thanked for my health, Isaiah's health, the contractions stopping, etc. I am thankful God has given us family who care so much, a good physician and nurses, the medical knowledge and discoveries we have to help with pregnancies and pre-term labor.
Here I am on bedrest. 33 weeks 2 days pregnant with our second. Praying he stays in there until at least 36 weeks. I know things can change at any minute, but I am resting easily now.
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