Strong is in the eye of the beholder

Josh and I meet on Word of Life Island. It's a Christian teen camp that is on an island in the middle of a lake, surrounded by mountains in upstate New York. I can't even explain how beautiful it is. Josh served 5 consecutive summers and I have done 3. It was one of the biggest blessings that I have ever experienced. I have friends that I would never have had without those summers and people that I look up to so very much just from watching them serve so many years on the Island.

Part of the experience for kids and the counselors are the CRAZY activities that you get to take part in. My second summer I was a counselor (literally I lived with teenage girls for 8 weeks straight), one of my campers (cough cough, taylor mastin....) talked me into participating in a push up contest with her. "SURE! We will do it together!" Little did I know she was pulling me up there to have ME do push ups with HER in my back. I did not sign up for this. But I did it. All 5'4, 135lbs of me did what seemed like 100 pushups with her on my back. (I think it was like 10.. haha) I felt so strong. Seriously. I stood up after beating a girl that I thought was going to smoke me in this, super proud of myself.

THEN I woke up the next morning, regretting not stretching before hand and allowing her to talk me into doing that. I couldn't even lift my arms above my head. (FYI, this camper laughed at me when I begged her for help changing because I couldn't pull my teeshirt over my head) I FELT STRONG and a little stupid. Then I woke up and the reality of what I had just done, really sunk in and I was in physical pain.

Both previous pregnancies we have had we found out by ultrasound that our precious babies had stopped growing and no longer had a beating heart. Every time we are scheduled for an ultrasound (even just writing this) puts a pit in my stomach and I get physically ill. The biggest we have ever seen any of our babies was at 7 weeks 1 day. We don't know what it is like to go in and see a baby moving, kicking, waving, or sucking on its thumb. I go in every ultrasound praying we see growth and a heartbeat.

This past Friday was our first ultrasound. I woke up, went to work, and had to keep busy to prevent myself from thinking about it. When I got home, we ate, (I'm pregnant if I don't eat every 2 hours I hate life)  and then got in the car to drive to the hospital for my ultrasound. I kept asking Josh if he was nervous or felt sick. He kept saying he was ok, which made me feel a little better. Once we got there they took up to the ultrasound area. (also just a fun story, we both had on teal shirts and white shorts/pants and the old lady escorting us made fun of us for matching and asked if we planned it, cool, old lady...)

Finally once in with the ultrasound tech, she informed us that she saw the gestational sac and yolk sac but did not see a fetal pole, which means no baby yet. Obviously I panicked inside and I felt sick again. She told us that it was common not to see it before 6 weeks so not to worry. But I should be right at 6 weeks I kept thinking, something is wrong. We got out to the car after a long walk down those hallways, nearly in tears of worry, and I realized something. Both previous pregnancies I was always measuring like 5 days behind what my last monthly period said I should be. PLUS I know I ovulate late and I am pretty sure I implant late. So I probably am only like 5 weeks 3 or 4 days-ish.

There is something about a miscarriage that brings on panic. For me, I have known since I was young that I wanted to be a mom. I always babysat, I was a nanny at one point, and I LOVE holding babies. Finding out I was pregnant the first time was a dream come true. Two miscarriages later, I have a lot of panic to go around. What if I will never be a mom? If I cant carry a pregnancy to term? What if adoption is our only option and we can't afford it? Its a lot to sink in if you let it.

I know a few women that have children and then have miscarried who share some of the same panic. They had always planned on having a big family, what if they can only have 2? Their worry is just as valid as mine. So is the woman who has miscarriages run in their family and is terrified to walk down that road as well. These are legitimate concerns.

I have been told that I am so strong and courageous for writing this blog. I am not strong. A strong woman wouldn't worry and panic when anything looks like it isn't going perfect. I would be able to stand up and say that I was ok with whatever the outcome. I would be able to enjoy walking into a room with an ultrasound machine. My heart wouldn't hurt every time there is a parents only event at church or with friends and I realize that I still can't attend. So no, I am not strong.

I am weak. But I am able to get through and push through because I have decided to give my desires and moments of panic or anxiousness to God. I understand that you may feel like that is just a line. But I am being sincere. It isn't just something I am saying to help me get through the day. I believe that, like the bible says, God knew each of us before we were even in the womb. (Jeremiah 1:5) God is in control. That is such a relief to be because in this whole journey I have realized more than ever that I am NOT in control. If I was, we would have 2 children already. Our father's day would look a little different than it did today. Truthfully, I do not want to be in control, I mess things up and God knows exactly what He is doing and doesn't mess up.

Sometimes doing the easy thing, like perhaps stopping at the first miscarriage, would sound simple. But sometimes the hard things, the things that seem impossible bring upon the biggest blessings. Every woman who has experienced a miscarriage has to decide if it is worth it to try again. What is the stopping point?

It is different for each person. So if you don't understand the decisions that need to be made that is ok. But please don't judge the woman who has decided to continue trying after 2 miscarriages or 6. It isn't your place to judge where that couple is in life or the road they are taking to being parents. It hurts. Your pregnancies may have been successful the first time around and what a blessing, but no 2 roads are the same.

The girl that I mentioned earlier that manipulated (that's the perfect word for it too) into doing the push ups, is now serving on Word of Life Island this coming summer. She is going to have a chance to impact kids lives. She told me this past winter when she came to visit me that she wanted to love on girls the way I loved on her. It was 2 weeks that I lived with and loved on her. Was it easy to love on high school girls 24/7 for 16 weeks? Oh goodness no. But the determination, the hard work, the moments where I felt strong, the moments where I cried, the moments where I felt stupid, the moment I cried out to God,  were all worth it.

I am not expecting this road to be easy, just worth it.

Parents know best

I have grown up playing sports. Both my parents love sports and watch sports. I lived and breathed soccer throughout my entire youth. Actually that is a lie, I still do. I am currently a Varsity boy’s soccer coach at a Christian school. Any sport takes a toll on your body and if you play competitively, you are bound to end up with an aliment or two. My aliment is my right knee. I can pop it in and out of place. Seriously. It’s gross. My varsity coach use to look away and call me disgusting all the time. I would play, it would pop out, I would pop it back in and get back up. So needless to say I made the decision to have surgery done after the last game of my senior year.

While at the hospital I went into surgery and woke up with a woman’s hand down my shirt. I can’t even begin to tell you the confusion I had. Ha. She was taking off those little heart monitor things, and said “well that was an awkward time for you to wake up…” um, yes mam it was. They went and got my parents to come back. When my mom got back she was all agitated. I asked her what was wrong and she went on a rant. Apparently they said the surgery would take 1.5 to 2 hours. After about 2.5 hours my dad went up to ask if I was out, they were starting to worry. The receptionist informed them that it still stated I was in surgery and they would page them when I was out. At 3.5 hours my parents were ticked. They went back up to ask what in the world was going on, super worried at this point, and she said “oh she is just waking up, you can go back”. My parents were so mad.

When I was 17, I didn’t understand why in the world they were so upset. It wasn’t a huge deal, I was ok. Given I was incredibly creeped out by the lady with her hand down my shirt when I was waking up, but it didn’t ruin my experience. But for my parents, they still talk about it. My dad will still say how mad he was and that people don’t mess with someone’s family when there is a kid on the operating table.  

I took me 8 years to understand what he actually meant by that. When I experienced my first miscarriage, I decided to let everything happen naturally. I was already bleeding pretty heavily so I thought it would happen any day. My doctor was so against this. He told me that it was a terrible decision and he was giving me a few days to do it on my own, otherwise he was scheduling a D&C. It ended up being about a week, I’m not sure if he forgot that threat he had made, but I was able to do everything on my own. In a fear of possibly bleeding too much, Josh took me to the hospital. Throughout the whole trip to the ER, I had 3 different nurses, 2 doctors, 1 ultrasound tech and someone that wheeled me to the ultrasound. (I think there was a shift change somewhere in there, that’s why so many nurses and doctors) I got checked out and they informed me everything was under control and that I had passed everything that I needed to. When my actual OBGYN called them back, he went on a rant stating that I didn’t listen to him and that he wanted me to have a D&C and demanded that I have one now as a precaution.

Let me just stop there. I did ALL THE WORK. Passing a small baby still causes your body to contract. I still had to do some kind of pushing. I sat on the couch and in the bathroom in a lot of pain, all so that this heartbreaking process was over. There is NO WAY I am now going to put myself through a surgery after they have confirmed that everything that needed to be was out and I just put myself through that for what nothing? Um, no.

After a lot of finger pointing and very vivid conversation with the doctor who came back to tell me what this OBGYN recommended, they made me sign a “leaving without listening to medical personal” paper. I did gladly and was finally able to go home after 6 hours.

Being in the hospital that night was a nightmare. On top of the argument I had to have with the doctors, I also had to say out loud “I am here because I am worried I am bleeding too much from the miscarriage I just had”, 9 total times. 9 stinking times. They were incredibly lucky that I am not a super emotional person because I would have been worse than I was. It is hard enough to go through such a life altering experience, but to feel alone and like you are just being looked at like a person there to help pay the bills is too hard. No woman should ever have to sit, cry and tell you what has happened and why she knows she passed everything, 9 times. What are those clipboards for anyways? Do you not keep any information on them?

My experience at 24 with my first pregnancy was terrible. Now, not all of my experiences were bad. Once I found the right OBGYN, seriously she is the BEST, it has been fantastic. She pushed my insurance to allow my testing after the 2^nd miscarriage to be covered, she put me on medication (prenatal, folic acid, progesterone and baby aspirin) 3 months ahead of when we were going to start trying again, and ALWAYS has time to talk to josh and I if we need to. Seriously I couldn’t be happier. She gets it. She knows what I am experiencing is real.

My alert to everyone in the medical profession is this, we are real. What we are experiencing is real. I am sure that sometimes it is hard to not get caught up in it being your job and you have to get through the shift. I am sure there are moments that you are just going through the motions. (I watch grey’s anatomy, I know how it is! Ha!) All of that is ok. I am not blaming you for it; I do it with my job sometimes too. But please, from the bottom of my heart, when a woman experiencing a miscarriage comes in; don’t look at her like it is not serious. No matter how many you have seen. For that woman, in that moment, she is scared, sad, and worried; otherwise she wouldn’t be in there.

(Please know this: I know not all doctors, nurses, aids and techs are like the people I interacted with that night. Some are just as compassionate at my current OBGYN is. For that I thank you personally.)

I said before that I am on progesterone. I found out when I went to pick up the prescription that my insurance doesn’t cover it. I just got a letter in the mail yesterday giving me their reasoning. It stated that I was unable to receive progesterone if I have a history of “spontaneous abortions”. Abortions. Really? We couldn’t have come up with a better word for this. Thanks a lot insurance company for the reminder.

I appreciate it.  

"would you rather...."

Opinions. Everyone has them. Everyone deserves to have them.

Have you ever played the “would you rather…” games? It is a book of super random and weird questions and in a group of people you have to make a decision for yourself of which thing you would choose. It is tons of fun and full of laughs to listen to people’s opinions or reasoning behind their decisions. You tend to learn a lot about people or the way that they think. (WARNING: some people may legit freak out you after playing this game with them) It encourages you to have an opinion and speak it out.

Playing games like “would you rather…” is very fitting for growing up in American culture. You are taught from a young age to stick up for yourself and say what you think. When you get older you are encouraged to vote and voice your opinion. (I did for the first time this year and I felt like I truly mattered when placing my vote!) It is hard to decide where we went from being the kid that sticks up for themselves to the adult bashing people for the way they choose to live their lives.  But we have all been there.

I personally experienced the heart ache of someone choosing to be the adult that beats someone down for their life decisions in the last few years of my life. I am sure that I experienced it before in some manner, but before this, I was in high school and college where no one actually says what they think to your face. So I never really experienced it before in this capacity.

Josh and I found out we were pregnant for the first time after only a year and 3 months of marriage. It was a crazy time in life for us. We weren’t trying for a baby, we were smack dab in the middle of buying our first home, and josh had just switched jobs. How intimidating of a life change! I had some people excited, I had some nervous for us, and I actually had someone say “wow, what a stupid decision”. Hmm. Hurts a little just to read that doesn’t it.

Then we experienced the miscarriage. We kept it to ourselves and mourned. But part of my reason for going through it like we did was because I was so scared of hearing someone say, “well hey I guess it worked out for the best.” Seriously, there are people out there that say that to a woman who has just lost her baby.

The same went for our 2^nd miscarriage. At first we went through this process not talking about it. But after some time in prayer, about 3 days after my D&C, I realized I was done being afraid. Satan was winning. I thought this was all my fault. Maybe I shouldn’t have had a single cup of coffee (you can have 1 cup a day) or made sure I slept on my left side more or maybe... and so on and so on. I had taken something that was not my fault at all and allowed Satan to truly make me believe I had killed my child.

So I spoke out. I choose Facebook as my outlet. I told family and friends what was going on. I asked for prayers as our hearts were healing from our 2^nd miscarriage in one year. Now here is where the hurt comes. While I received an almost overwhelming amount of support, I had a few people that judged me for putting something like that on Facebook. After a few weeks of beating myself up for saying something I realized, each of the people who had opinions for my life decisions, were couples or women who had never experienced this kind of loss. They had children and had openly told me that they had never had a miscarriage but “this is really something too personal and weird for everyone to hear you talk about”.

Let me say this. I am a Christian. I am a firm believer in Jesus Christ and him dying for my sins on the cross. I am not ashamed of it. I also believe that every baby, no matter how small, in the womb or not, is a living person. I never really thought about it in depth until I had a miscarriage. That child was real. God KNOWS that child. So while I am pregnant this time, we are going to celebrate with everyone the living child growing inside of me. No matter if the baby stops growing at 10 weeks again or 24 weeks or lives a full long life, this baby’s life will be celebrated. If the baby passes away before the age of 90, I will mourn its loss. I am a mom. My husband is a dad. We already love this child and the 2 we have loss, very much.

I say all of that to say this. If I woman is 9 months pregnant, and her child is still born. Would you say “well maybe it is for the best?” or tell them not to ask for prayers while they go through a difficult time in life mourning the loss of their child? No. No person with a heart would say that to a grieving mother or father. So why say it to someone who is experiencing a loss at 10 weeks? That is 60 days (after finding out your pregnant) of waking up making sure you get breakfast in you to provide nutrients for your baby, 60 days of taking prenatal vitamins, an ultrasound seeing your baby’s beating heart, and 60 days of dreaming of what life will be like. It is real. The raw emotions of losing a child and the heartbreak that comes alongside of it are real. Even if you have never gone through it yourself, you can tap into the emotions of losing your own child.  What an awful feeling. For me, I have 2 children that I will not see until I am in heaven. I am comfortable talking about them, why aren’t you?

Be careful. Your opinions matter. But your opinions can hurt.

Hi, my name is (insert name here) and I Facebook stalk you.

Women.

We know we have our own language. We don’t need to be reminded of it.

If you have ever sat in a group of women talking, conversation seems to jump from one topic to the other, flawlessly, and then somehow end right back where it started, like it all tied in together. My husband purposely leaves the room (or turns the TV up) when my mom, sister and I start talking. Beyond his issues that we all sound exactly alike, talk alike, move our hands alike and the volume increases exponentially, he feels like we just talk in circles. We do. That is exactly what makes it wonderful in our eyes.

Along with our own special language, that only women seem to understand, we are oddly curious of each other’s lives (remember the crazy circles we talk). Now, some of this can get out of control and becomes gossipy. (Note: gossiping is bad.) But sometimes, we are just curious of your life events because MAYBE we have experienced it too and we want to share or lean on you for understanding.

We often stalk (yes sadly this is the correct word) Facebook, hoping that you have wrote about whether you got an epidural, how long you were in labor, OR if you experienced a (here’s that word again) miscarriage how you are doing.

So I am going to help you. You don’t have to stalk any farther. I am giving you the information, which I know you want to know… because I would want to know about yours!

Josh and I have been married nearly 3 years. It often seems like we have been married for 30 and yet at the same time feels like we flew through the last 3 years. Like most couples, 2 years was our magic number. A good time frame to get acquainted to being married and having some fun on our own, but still soon enough that we had something so exciting to look forward to. For me, I couldn’t wait to be a mom so the 2 years couldn’t come soon enough.

Most things that we put a time frame on, we quickly learn that God’s timing always triumphs our own. Therefore a year, 4 months and learning to pee on a stick later, we found out that we were expecting our first child. We were in the process of buying our first home and living in an apartment.

When I was approaching my 10^th week of pregnancy, I had some light spotting. I called the doctor right away. (Give me a break it was my first pregnancy) He told me right away that everything was normal and to come to my normal appointment the following week. In the next few days spotting turned to bleeding. My doctor told me to go to the ER. We received an ultrasound on this portable machine that looks old enough to have been used when I was born. The very nervous tech said, “Yep I see a heartbeat.” Then that was it. We were told some bleeding is normal for women and not to worry because the tech saw a heartbeat. Three days later, I woke up severely bleeding and they moved my appointment to that morning. There, everything was confirmed. No hearbeat. The precious baby had stopped growing at 7 weeks 6 days.

We chose to have this miscarriage naturally; I assumed my body was probably almost halfway there anyways. To my surprise it took an additional week to have the miscarriage.  Since this isn’t something that I knew anything about, we thought there may be a possibility that I was bleeding too much. So in the middle of the night Josh took me to the hospital. Everything thing had been confirmed that the miscarriage was complete and praise the Lord the bleeding was under control. Only my family and close friends knew of this pregnancy. So quietly, at home, with my amazing husband, we grieved.

Speed forward to that special “2 year” time frame. We decided after almost 9 months since the last miscarriage and just passing our 2 year anniversary, it was time to start trying. Now in the first few years of marriage, you try not to get pregnant. (yes I realize we were not successful at this) But when it came time to actually start trying actively, we had no idea where to begin. It took about 3 months to get pregnant. The day after thanksgiving, exactly 1 year to the day since we had found out about the 1^st pregnancy, we found out we were expecting again! What a blessing that getting pregnant is not an issue we suffer from!  (Or so we say right now)

Around my 7^th week of this pregnancy, our doctor (who we switched to and is AMAZING!) we were able to get an early ultrasound, and saw a beautiful little heartbeat and found out a due date! All of my blood work and HCG level came back normal. We were sure we were out of the woods. Then at our 11 week appointment, again there was no heartbeat. This precious baby had stopped growing at 8 weeks 6 days. There were NO warning signs for this. No spotting or bleeding. Only family and close friends knew about this pregnancy as well.

We were given the option to have some testing done on the baby and chose to go forward with that. One D&C and some testing later, we found out that our precious little GIRL had turner syndrome. It’s a syndrome where the baby is missing a chromosome needed to have a sustainable life. Turner syndrome is considered to be the cause of about 10% of all miscarriages, most likely the leading cause. Cool. Another stupid statistic we fall into. We also were told that my body is literally holding on to these babies even their heart is no longer beating, causing me to have MISSED miscarriages. Also another stupid small stat we fall into.

Speed forward nearly 6 months, and the first month trying, the Filler’s are expecting again! This time around I am on a prenatal vitamin, 4MG of folic acid, a baby aspirin and progesterone. I feel like a walking pharmacy. But I don’t care at all. This time we announced our pregnancy and openly ask for prayers. If we experience this again, we NEED the support system. If it doesn’t, I pray this gives hope to women who are so worried about ever having children

SO there is our long, and trust me I cut out a lot of details, story of where we are today. I am obviously sharing this because we don’t hear these kinds of stories. Where are all the grieving people also have stories that they WANT to share?

In the U.S. alone, over 700,000 babies don’t survive to be born each year. Millions of people must be mourning these losses.

 So, where are they?

say hello to awkward

I can’t think of moment in my life that I have been asked to talk more because I was being too quite. I’m a talker. This has happened to get me in trouble many times in my life. Including all of the moments where my husband and I are laying in bed and I refuse to quit talking. The poor guy is done listening and talking about 2 hours into his work day with junior highers. Man, do they know how to talk, it’s almost inspiring. But naturally when you are a talker and everyone that knows you knows this, the moment you start to get a little quiet, people know there is something really wrong.

For me it was experiencing something you never thought you would have to deal with to get me super quiet, a miscarriage. That word probably made you a little uncomfortable. It could be maybe because you have had one or because you know nothing about it OR because you grew up in a generation that things like this weren’t talked about. I know that word made me a little uneasy when I was single and dreaming about what my life was going to be like. I mean people say all the time, “I didn’t think that was going to happen to me”. But for me, I was REALLY positive it was never going to happen to me and my future husband. I heard, very rarely, of women who were experiencing a miscarriage and I immediately wanted to change the subject if it was brought up.  It is awkward to talk about a woman experiencing a loss of a child. No one is comfortable with that kind of a loss. So naturally, when you receive the news that you are now among the 30% of all pregnancies end in miscarriage statistic, you are in a state of shock and awkwardness. The shock is pretty self explanatory if you look up at the “I didn’t think it was going to happen to me” statement. The awkwardness is hard to put words to, until you have been there.

My grandparents have this club house that we use to play in ALL the time as a kid. My sister, best friend and I had a “no boys allowed” club. Seriously, that was the name. Thank several hours of reading the babysitters club books for the creativity. We use to hold “meetings” which really consisted of coloring on the walls or planning for attacks that the neighborhood boys may make against us. But it was a club. I knew the members and I was co- president. Having a miscarriage is like being in a super top secret club that you go to meetings with a blindfold on and earplugs in. It’s not a club that you want to be a part of. In fact you run out to your car after the meeting in hopes that no one sees you. So for a talker, in a club like this, bring on the awkwardness.

I have been tossing the idea around for a little while about starting a blog. (By the way the last sentence is probably the number one most over used statements on all opening blog pages.) At first I thought maybe to start one to look back on years from now at our first years of marriage. But I have facebook for that. Then we got pregnant and I thought “ok now I will start one to show our kids later in life”. Then I experienced our first miscarriage and I searched for days to find blogs of other women who were experiencing the same thing. Just an outlet to help me through the place in life I was currently experiencing. I came across several of them. Some were women who had experienced upwards of 6 miscarriages, some not being able to conceive at all, and some were of women who had given up hope of ever having children. I kept feeling like nothing applied to where I was exactly. Then when we experienced our 2^nd miscarriage, I posted something on facebook about what we were experiencing. I received mixed reviews on whether or not I should even have said anything. At first I felt guilty for making people feel uncomfortable, and then I just keep getting this feeling that this SHOULDN’T be something that makes us uncomfortable or awkward.

Thus begins my blog. It is not meant in any way to make you uncomfortable or awkward but maybe to help educate you. Hopefully it helps women who have or will experience a miscarriage in their life. So yes, there will be baby things and miscarriage things and things josh and I experience in life from here on out. Hopefully, it helps some of the healing hearts.