This morning on my way to church I was listening to WBFJ, our local Christian radio station. Yesterday one of their DJs died suddenly. As you can imagine, the "feel" of the station is very somber. It's been painful to listen to at moments. And, as a listener, I, too, felt like I knew this guy even though I'd never met him. (Funny how even local celebrities end up as part of our lives.)
As the people on air were praying for his wife and kids, I started thinking about how unbelievably hard that would be. I've actually been thinking a lot about death lately. My step-mother, Mary, is in the final stages of fighting cancer. Even thinking about her no longer being with us makes me tear up. (Side note: this should also explain why my eye makeup constantly looks like crap these days.)
The more I think about death (which happens to be a lot), the more I get overwhelmed. I think about the other people I'm close to in life- my husband, my family, my BFFs- and think about how I can't imagine a world without them, either.
So all of this if floating around in my brain as I'm listening to the radio this morning and I have this thought: "I would not be able to make it without Dan." I have this gut-wrenching heart check, which is quickly followed up with what I think was the Lord speaking to me: "Yes, you could. I would be there for you."
Now before you think I'm all "it would be a bed of roses" if something happened to my husband, let me tell you that I, too, was shocked by that thought. I was shocked that I felt God saying that I *would* survive something that big. I would have to, I'd have E to take care of. And while I don't even like to think about what that would look like (and my heart hurts even writing this), I think that He is right... I would be okay, because God would take care of me.
(Enter sappy Christian music playing in the background, beginning to swell because you think I am about to have some profound thought about how I love God more than any human and I'm a good Christian...)
The next immediate thought I had went something like this: "Maybe I could survive that... but I could NOT survive something happening to Elizabeth."
Yep. He (God) loves it when I call the shots.
I drove on, content in thinking my thoughts about how there is no way I would be able to function for time and all eternity if something happened to my little girl. (And before you again start playing sappy background music, I'll skip to the punchline and tell you that I'm still in this mode. I have not reasoned that I would be able to function, so heads' up.)
I got to MOMS, fixed myself a cup of tasty coffee, got my tasty plate of food, and sat down among friends and neighbors... ready to hear what Dr. Satterwhite had to say. (He's a local pediatrician who came to talk to us this morning about parenting.) Already I'd moved on from the internal discussion about death/children/family/functioning.
Dr. Satterwhite was amazing. His teaching will be posted here once it gets edited. You should all download it and hear it. Seriously. Fantastic.
But one of the things that struck me the most was his point that (in parenting, in life, whatever) God is on the throne and I am not. Not a new concept, I get that... He followed it up with something along the lines of "when you try to put your will in the lives of your children, it's as if you are saying 'God, scoot over... I got this one covered'." Ouch.
That's totally me.
He said LOTS of things I needed to hear (again, download it... you won't be disappointed), but a gentle follow-up from my earlier mind-conversation was clear. If I trust God to get me through ____ (death, life, health, healing), why would I not trust Him with ALL things... even Elizabeth's life? (gulp.) I need to momma-up and daily release my daughter to Him. Clearly, He's in control anyway, but my acknowledging it will be healthy for me, for E, for my whole family to see.
I'm not quite sure how this will all play out... but as much as I'm sure God enjoys sharing His throne with me, I think I'll scoot on back off it, and leave the controlling the universe to Him. He seems to have done an okay job so far, so I'll go back to doing dishes and planning a birthday party and leave the rest to Him.
He loves it when I do that.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
The ups and downs of our day.
Up: We freakin' love our preschool. Every thing about it. The staff is amazing... and this year E has (another) super fun teacher and a super fun class. Today while E was taking another day to rest-off her illness, she missed a packed day at school. She was supposed to have the Sharing Box today, art, and music. I emailed her teacher to see what to do about having the Sharing Box (i.e., was there a Plan B when the sharer was sick?) and she responded (which completely freaked E out that HER TEACHER would send "her" an EMAIL!!) by saying E would miss some stuff in art that they could make up on Friday. When I got to school this morning, instead of saving the art until Friday to do, she'd prepared a "homework bag" for E. Seriously. My daughter was in heaven...
Seriously. If today is any indication of what school will be like... E will be a big fan of homework.
Up: I took the college students to a movie on Sunday night. I told the chick at the theater that I needed 5 Student Tickets, and 2 for "old people" (meaning, older than college.) I clearly didn't check my receipt at the time... but today when I did, I laughed a lot.
Yep. They thought I really meant "old people". Clearly, she saw that we were 30-somethings, not 80-somethings, right? I laughed a lot.
Up: We were at the intersection of Hanes Mall Boulevard and this road:
and my ever perceptive child claimed she was thirsty. She wasn't looking up at the time. (She was, of course, reading a book in the back seat.) She said, "Mommy, I'm realllllly thirsty. Maybe we could go to Starbucks or something?" We died laughing... then she looked out her window and saw this beside her:
Yes. My child has my genes, and can smell a Starbucks a mile away... or right outside her window.
Up: Watching my child watch this video:
which looks something like this:
Clearly... she doesn't look sick, huh?
Down: one of my very, very favorite Bloggers is hanging up the Blog-gig. My friend, Jenni, from UNC days has an amazing blog. Jenni and I were in InterVarsity together and knew each other in that "we go to all the same functions and have all the same friends" kind of way that you do in college. Through her blog I have learned so much more about her... and like lots of my virtual friends, it's made me wish I'd spent more time with her when I was actually in her physical presence. So while you have the chance, before she takes it down, check out Jenni's blog to see the beauty of my friend, her family, and her writing. Fortunately for me, even though the intrawebs will miss Jenni, I'll still be in touch with her world.
Given our recent days, I'll take this kind of day any time.
(And, side note? Dan and I are watching this now:
You should, too.)
Up: I took the college students to a movie on Sunday night. I told the chick at the theater that I needed 5 Student Tickets, and 2 for "old people" (meaning, older than college.) I clearly didn't check my receipt at the time... but today when I did, I laughed a lot.
Up: We were at the intersection of Hanes Mall Boulevard and this road:
Up: Watching my child watch this video:
which looks something like this:
Clearly... she doesn't look sick, huh?
Down: one of my very, very favorite Bloggers is hanging up the Blog-gig. My friend, Jenni, from UNC days has an amazing blog. Jenni and I were in InterVarsity together and knew each other in that "we go to all the same functions and have all the same friends" kind of way that you do in college. Through her blog I have learned so much more about her... and like lots of my virtual friends, it's made me wish I'd spent more time with her when I was actually in her physical presence. So while you have the chance, before she takes it down, check out Jenni's blog to see the beauty of my friend, her family, and her writing. Fortunately for me, even though the intrawebs will miss Jenni, I'll still be in touch with her world.
Given our recent days, I'll take this kind of day any time.
(And, side note? Dan and I are watching this now:
You should, too.)Tuesday, October 12, 2010
23rd hour update...
Because life tends to be not what we intend...
Dan and I were woken up today at 4:11 (the same time she woke me up a couple weeks ago... that is either her witching hour or I need to put new batteries in my bedroom clock) with Little Miss E wanting to come sleep in our room. I caved, then she was so fidgety I told her we'd go back to her room. In what quickly became a Hinton-James-Freshman-Year flashback, I said "E, are you gonna throw up?" and she said "No, Momma, I'm not gonna.... *insert yarf here*". Yep. For the 4th time in two and a half weeks, she had the pukes.
For the next two and a half hours, Dan and I held hair back, helped wash her mouth out, rubbed her back, and loved on that girl.
Today we took her to the doctor (again) and were given some help. Our A-M-A-Z-I-N-G doctor told us that she'd seen nothing but tummy problems today at work... so there is comfort in that... but seriously. We're ready for a break. (And she HAS to get better before her birthday!)
So my time of prayer today wasn't exactly what I'd hoped. Granted, it was totally good (and a little puke-focused in the wee hours of the morning)... but it left me wanting a bit more. (Funny how that works, eh?) I'm committing another day to that focus... keep hittin' me up, people. It's been a joy and an honor to pray for you today.
Oh, and it was also a joy and an honor to watch Glee. Did anyone else catch that Kurt has great handwriting and put "Elizabeth" as his middle name?
I'll be talkin' to ya...
Dan and I were woken up today at 4:11 (the same time she woke me up a couple weeks ago... that is either her witching hour or I need to put new batteries in my bedroom clock) with Little Miss E wanting to come sleep in our room. I caved, then she was so fidgety I told her we'd go back to her room. In what quickly became a Hinton-James-Freshman-Year flashback, I said "E, are you gonna throw up?" and she said "No, Momma, I'm not gonna.... *insert yarf here*". Yep. For the 4th time in two and a half weeks, she had the pukes.
For the next two and a half hours, Dan and I held hair back, helped wash her mouth out, rubbed her back, and loved on that girl.
Today we took her to the doctor (again) and were given some help. Our A-M-A-Z-I-N-G doctor told us that she'd seen nothing but tummy problems today at work... so there is comfort in that... but seriously. We're ready for a break. (And she HAS to get better before her birthday!)
So my time of prayer today wasn't exactly what I'd hoped. Granted, it was totally good (and a little puke-focused in the wee hours of the morning)... but it left me wanting a bit more. (Funny how that works, eh?) I'm committing another day to that focus... keep hittin' me up, people. It's been a joy and an honor to pray for you today.
Oh, and it was also a joy and an honor to watch Glee. Did anyone else catch that Kurt has great handwriting and put "Elizabeth" as his middle name?
I'll be talkin' to ya...
Monday, October 11, 2010
Grilled Cheesus (Confessions of a Hypocrite, Volume 2)
Holy Mother of All Good TV Shows...
So, for a week now I've been too busy to watch last week's Glee. (And, yes, for some reason, 8 years ago when we started playing Bunko on Tuesday nights we weren't anticipating that Glee would be on Tuesdays in the future... or I wouldn't have agreed to play.)
I watched it tonight.
Do you ever wonder if things happen (like having Bunko games instead of watching it when you were "supposed" to) because you would get more out of it later (like watching it tonight?)
The episode was all about faith. Everyone who knows my obsession asked me if I'd seen it and wanted to debrief it, but I wouldn't. So, actually, no one ruined it for me. (Thank you, friends!) It. Was. Super. I love the real way that Ryan Murphy addressed religion, faith, spirituality. I love that lots of different "brands" got shown, and it wasn't neatly tied up with a revival service at the end. (Hi, elders! 'Whoops' if that makes me a "bad Christian".)
More than anything, I love that these 'kids' were sorting out big things... together. (I'll be honest... I didn't see a lot of this in my high school. In addition to the fact we didn't always express ourselves in song, we also thought people were of "Another Religion" if they were Methodist.)
Glee also made me think about some of the things we talked about at last night's College Ministry Bible Study... which is where I dropped the bomb shell on them (and now on you)....
Wait for it...
My prayer life kinda sucks.
I mean, don't get me wrong... I pray. A lot. And if you've asked me to pray for something, consider it done. I feel like my life has gotten to the place where I am in constant dialogue with God. But the danger in that constant state of prayer business? You miss out on the set-aside, reverent, intentional prayer that I think God calls us to.
So here we are, blog readers... what to do with this? Just like last week you all responded about weight stuff (and, thank you, ps... I'm working on a new "support group" that those of you who contacted me will be hearing about soon!), and then recently you all poured out your compassion and your own stories about fertility and miscarriage... now I'm asking you to help me pray.
I'm taking a 24 hour "online talking" hiatus. I know, silly, silly, silly me. 24 hours in the grand scheme of life isn't much. But given how much I comment, post, and blog... it's a lot. Rather than talk to you online, I'll pray for you. I'll still read emails (and respond if it's completely necessary), check your FB info, and look for your updates, but I won't comment. I'll just pray. Cool? And if you have something you'd like prayer for, now's your time to hit me up. I'm on it. I'll take it to Jesus (not to be confused with Cheesus) on your behalf. (He's my favorite Heb.)
So comment away, send me a message, whatever. I'll be talkin' to you later... but for now, I'm off to talk to Cheesus, er, Jesus....
(Seriously... message me your prayer requests, or comment here:)
So, for a week now I've been too busy to watch last week's Glee. (And, yes, for some reason, 8 years ago when we started playing Bunko on Tuesday nights we weren't anticipating that Glee would be on Tuesdays in the future... or I wouldn't have agreed to play.)
I watched it tonight.
Do you ever wonder if things happen (like having Bunko games instead of watching it when you were "supposed" to) because you would get more out of it later (like watching it tonight?)
The episode was all about faith. Everyone who knows my obsession asked me if I'd seen it and wanted to debrief it, but I wouldn't. So, actually, no one ruined it for me. (Thank you, friends!) It. Was. Super. I love the real way that Ryan Murphy addressed religion, faith, spirituality. I love that lots of different "brands" got shown, and it wasn't neatly tied up with a revival service at the end. (Hi, elders! 'Whoops' if that makes me a "bad Christian".)
More than anything, I love that these 'kids' were sorting out big things... together. (I'll be honest... I didn't see a lot of this in my high school. In addition to the fact we didn't always express ourselves in song, we also thought people were of "Another Religion" if they were Methodist.)
Glee also made me think about some of the things we talked about at last night's College Ministry Bible Study... which is where I dropped the bomb shell on them (and now on you)....
Wait for it...
My prayer life kinda sucks.
I mean, don't get me wrong... I pray. A lot. And if you've asked me to pray for something, consider it done. I feel like my life has gotten to the place where I am in constant dialogue with God. But the danger in that constant state of prayer business? You miss out on the set-aside, reverent, intentional prayer that I think God calls us to.
So here we are, blog readers... what to do with this? Just like last week you all responded about weight stuff (and, thank you, ps... I'm working on a new "support group" that those of you who contacted me will be hearing about soon!), and then recently you all poured out your compassion and your own stories about fertility and miscarriage... now I'm asking you to help me pray.
I'm taking a 24 hour "online talking" hiatus. I know, silly, silly, silly me. 24 hours in the grand scheme of life isn't much. But given how much I comment, post, and blog... it's a lot. Rather than talk to you online, I'll pray for you. I'll still read emails (and respond if it's completely necessary), check your FB info, and look for your updates, but I won't comment. I'll just pray. Cool? And if you have something you'd like prayer for, now's your time to hit me up. I'm on it. I'll take it to Jesus (not to be confused with Cheesus) on your behalf. (He's my favorite Heb.)
So comment away, send me a message, whatever. I'll be talkin' to you later... but for now, I'm off to talk to Cheesus, er, Jesus....
(Seriously... message me your prayer requests, or comment here:)
More Wisdom From E
Me: E, your teacher said (blah blah blah, insert proud parent stuff here) about you today. That makes me super happy. I am really proud of you.
E: Yeah, but I can only do all those good things at school.
------------
E: Daddy, your cup is trash.
(to Dan, using Duke cup.)
-----------
E: Mommy, when can I drink coffee?
Me: Probably when you are about 17.
E: Will you fix it for me then? Will you still be alive?
-----------
E: (on 3rd trip downstairs after bedtime) Mommy, where's that bed rail thing that I used to use?
Me: In storage.
E: You should put it back up so I won't keep getting out of bed.
How I love this little girl....
E: Yeah, but I can only do all those good things at school.
------------
E: Daddy, your cup is trash.
(to Dan, using Duke cup.)
-----------
E: Mommy, when can I drink coffee?
Me: Probably when you are about 17.
E: Will you fix it for me then? Will you still be alive?
-----------
E: (on 3rd trip downstairs after bedtime) Mommy, where's that bed rail thing that I used to use?
Me: In storage.
E: You should put it back up so I won't keep getting out of bed.
How I love this little girl....
I am so important, you will want to read this.
I've heard two references lately to this new Facebooking-Tweeting-Blogging Generation and how we all think that what we have to say is so important that we must share it with the world- immediately.
In that vein, I give you:
VERY IMPORTANT THINGS YOU NEED TO KNOW (right now.)
1. I am on the constant search for the World's Most Perfect Pen.
2. I am on the constant search for the Best Way Our Furniture Should Be Arranged, too.
3. My first kiss sent me an email about a year ago referencing that he was my first kiss. But I'm not sure I ever told him he was... which leads me to believe it was obvious.
4. I had 8 roommates before Dan. Unless you count Noah, who thought he was our roommate, and that would make it 9.
5. I was not "allowed" to wear skirts to school until high school. Well, maybe middle school. Now E won't wear anything but skirts or dresses. Weird.
6. Elizabeth has no idea we pay babysitters. She thinks she just has some older friends who choose to hang out with her. And I will let her believe this as long as I can.
7. Speaking of babysitters, I kinda get annoyed when people take advantage of other people to be babysitters. It's kind of my soapbox. Yes, your parents probably love keeping your kids. Yes, your sister wants to see her niece and nephew. Yes, your friends without children likely enjoy being entertained by your hilarious children. But... pay a sitter, people. (And, before I get flack for this... yes, I get that sitters are expensive. I'm not saying you should do it all the time. I'm just saying that there should be some sort of system in place so you don't take advantage of special people in your life. At least have a system where you swap sitting with your friends. Barter or something.)
8. Yes, I'm happy to keep your children. That wasn't what I meant in #7. Zeesh.
9. Yes, I tend to say the wrong things and offend my friends. (I can't tell you how many of you I've seen since this who have asked me if you hurt my feelings back then.)
10. Speaking of babysitters, I had one when I was little that used to make me and Chris (my brother) play in the yard while she sunbathed. If we came too close to the deck, she would spray us with a water hose. She also loved to listen to this while she sunbathed:
I'm not sure that was appropriate babysitting music, but it was fun times.
11. We would have likely been better off with a grandparent babysitting. Likely Grandmother and Granddaddy wouldn't spray us with water hoses.
12. My brother did not decide to call me by my actual name until... well... now? And it still sounds weird to hear him say "Becky".
13. I bounced my first check when I was a sophomore in college. It was written to the UNC Clefhangers. Thankfully, my friend Brad was the treasurer, so it was less embarrassing than it could have been.
14. I wanted to be a writer from the time I could write. In fact, in second grade I wrote this book...
about a girl named Elizabeth Johnston. Weird.
15. I've had 2 friends read my journals. Scary. So now, I just put it online for all of you to see.
16. I think my dog totally understands what I say to him.
17. I have a closet in my bedroom with nothing but shoes in it.
18. I would take a bath (vs. shower) 9 times out of 10 if I could. Except I don't like washing my hair in the bathtub.
19. I used to have a recurring nightmare about having to fight a cowboy robot. I had it every time I was sick. I usually won, unless I was really sick.
20. I cannot fall asleep at night without reading.
There you have it. 20 things you learned about me... and there's 2 minutes of your life you won't get back.
Holla.
In that vein, I give you:
VERY IMPORTANT THINGS YOU NEED TO KNOW (right now.)
1. I am on the constant search for the World's Most Perfect Pen.
2. I am on the constant search for the Best Way Our Furniture Should Be Arranged, too.
3. My first kiss sent me an email about a year ago referencing that he was my first kiss. But I'm not sure I ever told him he was... which leads me to believe it was obvious.
4. I had 8 roommates before Dan. Unless you count Noah, who thought he was our roommate, and that would make it 9.
5. I was not "allowed" to wear skirts to school until high school. Well, maybe middle school. Now E won't wear anything but skirts or dresses. Weird.
6. Elizabeth has no idea we pay babysitters. She thinks she just has some older friends who choose to hang out with her. And I will let her believe this as long as I can.
7. Speaking of babysitters, I kinda get annoyed when people take advantage of other people to be babysitters. It's kind of my soapbox. Yes, your parents probably love keeping your kids. Yes, your sister wants to see her niece and nephew. Yes, your friends without children likely enjoy being entertained by your hilarious children. But... pay a sitter, people. (And, before I get flack for this... yes, I get that sitters are expensive. I'm not saying you should do it all the time. I'm just saying that there should be some sort of system in place so you don't take advantage of special people in your life. At least have a system where you swap sitting with your friends. Barter or something.)
8. Yes, I'm happy to keep your children. That wasn't what I meant in #7. Zeesh.
9. Yes, I tend to say the wrong things and offend my friends. (I can't tell you how many of you I've seen since this who have asked me if you hurt my feelings back then.)
10. Speaking of babysitters, I had one when I was little that used to make me and Chris (my brother) play in the yard while she sunbathed. If we came too close to the deck, she would spray us with a water hose. She also loved to listen to this while she sunbathed:
I'm not sure that was appropriate babysitting music, but it was fun times.
11. We would have likely been better off with a grandparent babysitting. Likely Grandmother and Granddaddy wouldn't spray us with water hoses.
12. My brother did not decide to call me by my actual name until... well... now? And it still sounds weird to hear him say "Becky".
13. I bounced my first check when I was a sophomore in college. It was written to the UNC Clefhangers. Thankfully, my friend Brad was the treasurer, so it was less embarrassing than it could have been.
14. I wanted to be a writer from the time I could write. In fact, in second grade I wrote this book...
15. I've had 2 friends read my journals. Scary. So now, I just put it online for all of you to see.
16. I think my dog totally understands what I say to him.
17. I have a closet in my bedroom with nothing but shoes in it.
18. I would take a bath (vs. shower) 9 times out of 10 if I could. Except I don't like washing my hair in the bathtub.
19. I used to have a recurring nightmare about having to fight a cowboy robot. I had it every time I was sick. I usually won, unless I was really sick.
20. I cannot fall asleep at night without reading.
There you have it. 20 things you learned about me... and there's 2 minutes of your life you won't get back.
Holla.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Broken hearts and lost babies.
We said we were going to start "trying" to have a baby in October of 2001. In our grand scheme of life, that would mean we would arrive to Dan's residency program with me pregnant. Perfect. I could enter the world of Stay-At-Home Moms in a new city.
Then... nothing.
May of 2002, my OBGYN in Chapel Hill decided to give me a prescription for Clomid. It came with the warning that it might make me a little crazy, so maybe I should wait to start it once we got settled in Winston-Salem.
So, we got settled in Winston ("A great place to raise a family!" everyone said when we told them we were moving here.) Months passed. Each month, the painful reminder of no baby.
It appeared my body wasn't able to ovulate on it's own... but we, at that point, only figured that out thanks to the help of Clomid. No true "testing" was done... just some trial and error with medication.
December 2003, Dan went to Wilmington... on my birthday... and I was on the first day of my painful reminder that this wasn't the month we would be pregnant. (Needless to say, I wasn't in the best of moods. The one shining point of that birthday? The super sweet college students surprised me with Barenaked Ladies tickets that night at our Christmas party. Super cool.) Two days later at Bunko, I sat in my friends' home and proceeded to bleed everywhere. Horrible pain. I remember saying to my friend Holly "I don't want to sound like a wuss, but this is the worst period I've ever had. Something's not right."
The next day I drove myself to my doctor's office and was told that indeed something wasn't right: I was in the throws of a miscarriage. That same friend, Holly, showed up later at the RMH with lilies and a heating pad. I wept with tears so intense I didn't know how to function. And thanks to several friends who helped Dan get across the state, he was soon home and we could mourn together.
I remember vividly Dr. Martin saying "The good news about this is we now know you *can* get pregnant. The bad news is that you lost your first baby." Dr. Martin was a God-send for our family. He was an amazing man who took care of my physical self, as well as my emotional one. He was coming with his family to volunteer at the RMH later that evening and told me that if it would be too hard to see him there, he would stay home. Simply amazing. And, no, it was just the opposite... it was comforting to see him outside of the office, with his kids, and with his amazing caring spirit.
2004 rolled around, more "missed" months.
Then came Labor Day weekend... with the help of some Clomid (and the sad timing of Dr. Martin leaving to go to seminary! I've still never forgiven God for that one... seriously... called to ministry? What the what? *I* needed him as my OB!) I finally was able to get pregnant again. We started telling our friends. We celebrated. We planned.
In the mean time I finally graduated, all the while more reason to celebrate. When I was in Chapel Hill to take my last final, I promptly went to Johnny T-Shirt and bought 2 t-shirts: one that said UNC Alumni (finally!) and one that was a baby UNC shirt (finally!) I remember my graduation party with such happy memories... a great night. We told everyone who came that we were pregnant. I came home from the party exhausted. Andrea and Mom told me to rest. And I did. The whole next day, I rested. And then I started bleeding.
I went to the doctor's office and my worst nightmare was confirmed. I was in my second miscarriage. This time, though, I was so far along I would require a D&C. The D&C also required that I was intubated, which (at the time) was my greatest fear.
I survived both, and vaguely remember Dan getting me a Cookout Milkshake on the way home to "celebrate" that I'd made it.
January that year we decided we were done with our regular OB office and it was time to be a little more aggressive at the Fertility Clinic. Dr. Deaton and his nurse Paula were just what we needed: up until then we felt like we weren't totally being taken seriously. It was their job to be serious, and they were good at it.
Months went by with various trials of various procedures. More Clomid (it made me crazy), Metformin (it made me poopy), combinations of both (crazy and poopy), progesterone, IUI, shots... it's all a blur. January of 2006 we told Dr. Deaton we couldn't do much more: both financially and emotionally we were getting to the end of our ropes. We were not able to do IVF at that point (financially) and had decided that emotionally we'd rather start the adoption route. Lots of kids needed homes and our home needed a kid. Dr. Deaton recommended that we finish out what medicine we had left (we had already paid the $900 for the meds in our fridge at that time) and we'd try an IUI with full-force progesterone. His point was that we had nothing to lose to use what we'd already paid for... so why not.
February 16 after what looked like a "good" month, we went to the clinic for my IUI. Just a few short weeks later, a positive pregnancy test confirmed that it was, indeed, a good month.
I remained on progesterone until my 35th week. I had been told that I could stop taking it by week 10. Dan, my ever-cautious husband, pointed out that progesterone was given to women to stop pre-term labor, so why not stay on it a bit longer. At 36 weeks and 1 day, Elizabeth Jane Johnston entered the world. I began pushing at 8:25pm, and by 8:32pm (three pushes!) she was here. (Her Daddy actually delivered her: Dr. Jacobs hadn't made it into the room yet!)
We rejoice constantly for the miracle of Elizabeth, and for all that were part of our road to get her.
But I will say this: in the waiting, it was hell. From the end of 2001 to 2006, it seemed that everyone and their sister had babies:
*Lots of them had babies and didn't even want children. Really? I'd gladly have taken them.
*Some of them made comments like "I can bump into a girl in a bar and get her pregnant!" which had nothing to do with me, but I sure internalized it. Oh... that's what we were doing wrong. All that money to our doctors and we could have been bumping into each other at bars.
*Some of them said "you are the last person I'm telling that I'm pregnant, because I wasn't sure you could handle it." So, not only was I the last to get pregnant, but now I'm left out of your life.
*Some of them said "I guess your miscarriage was just 'God's will' because maybe something might have been wrong with your baby." Right. Because that matters. Something *wrong*. Jerkface.
*Some of them refused to talk about babies around me, while others talked about nothing else.
*Some of them called coming to my child-free house a "playdate"... which it wasn't.
*Lots of them didn't know what to say... so I'm about to tell you:
Then... nothing.
May of 2002, my OBGYN in Chapel Hill decided to give me a prescription for Clomid. It came with the warning that it might make me a little crazy, so maybe I should wait to start it once we got settled in Winston-Salem.
So, we got settled in Winston ("A great place to raise a family!" everyone said when we told them we were moving here.) Months passed. Each month, the painful reminder of no baby.
It appeared my body wasn't able to ovulate on it's own... but we, at that point, only figured that out thanks to the help of Clomid. No true "testing" was done... just some trial and error with medication.
December 2003, Dan went to Wilmington... on my birthday... and I was on the first day of my painful reminder that this wasn't the month we would be pregnant. (Needless to say, I wasn't in the best of moods. The one shining point of that birthday? The super sweet college students surprised me with Barenaked Ladies tickets that night at our Christmas party. Super cool.) Two days later at Bunko, I sat in my friends' home and proceeded to bleed everywhere. Horrible pain. I remember saying to my friend Holly "I don't want to sound like a wuss, but this is the worst period I've ever had. Something's not right."
The next day I drove myself to my doctor's office and was told that indeed something wasn't right: I was in the throws of a miscarriage. That same friend, Holly, showed up later at the RMH with lilies and a heating pad. I wept with tears so intense I didn't know how to function. And thanks to several friends who helped Dan get across the state, he was soon home and we could mourn together.
I remember vividly Dr. Martin saying "The good news about this is we now know you *can* get pregnant. The bad news is that you lost your first baby." Dr. Martin was a God-send for our family. He was an amazing man who took care of my physical self, as well as my emotional one. He was coming with his family to volunteer at the RMH later that evening and told me that if it would be too hard to see him there, he would stay home. Simply amazing. And, no, it was just the opposite... it was comforting to see him outside of the office, with his kids, and with his amazing caring spirit.
2004 rolled around, more "missed" months.
Then came Labor Day weekend... with the help of some Clomid (and the sad timing of Dr. Martin leaving to go to seminary! I've still never forgiven God for that one... seriously... called to ministry? What the what? *I* needed him as my OB!) I finally was able to get pregnant again. We started telling our friends. We celebrated. We planned.
In the mean time I finally graduated, all the while more reason to celebrate. When I was in Chapel Hill to take my last final, I promptly went to Johnny T-Shirt and bought 2 t-shirts: one that said UNC Alumni (finally!) and one that was a baby UNC shirt (finally!) I remember my graduation party with such happy memories... a great night. We told everyone who came that we were pregnant. I came home from the party exhausted. Andrea and Mom told me to rest. And I did. The whole next day, I rested. And then I started bleeding.
I went to the doctor's office and my worst nightmare was confirmed. I was in my second miscarriage. This time, though, I was so far along I would require a D&C. The D&C also required that I was intubated, which (at the time) was my greatest fear.
I survived both, and vaguely remember Dan getting me a Cookout Milkshake on the way home to "celebrate" that I'd made it.
January that year we decided we were done with our regular OB office and it was time to be a little more aggressive at the Fertility Clinic. Dr. Deaton and his nurse Paula were just what we needed: up until then we felt like we weren't totally being taken seriously. It was their job to be serious, and they were good at it.
Months went by with various trials of various procedures. More Clomid (it made me crazy), Metformin (it made me poopy), combinations of both (crazy and poopy), progesterone, IUI, shots... it's all a blur. January of 2006 we told Dr. Deaton we couldn't do much more: both financially and emotionally we were getting to the end of our ropes. We were not able to do IVF at that point (financially) and had decided that emotionally we'd rather start the adoption route. Lots of kids needed homes and our home needed a kid. Dr. Deaton recommended that we finish out what medicine we had left (we had already paid the $900 for the meds in our fridge at that time) and we'd try an IUI with full-force progesterone. His point was that we had nothing to lose to use what we'd already paid for... so why not.
February 16 after what looked like a "good" month, we went to the clinic for my IUI. Just a few short weeks later, a positive pregnancy test confirmed that it was, indeed, a good month.
I remained on progesterone until my 35th week. I had been told that I could stop taking it by week 10. Dan, my ever-cautious husband, pointed out that progesterone was given to women to stop pre-term labor, so why not stay on it a bit longer. At 36 weeks and 1 day, Elizabeth Jane Johnston entered the world. I began pushing at 8:25pm, and by 8:32pm (three pushes!) she was here. (Her Daddy actually delivered her: Dr. Jacobs hadn't made it into the room yet!)
We rejoice constantly for the miracle of Elizabeth, and for all that were part of our road to get her.
But I will say this: in the waiting, it was hell. From the end of 2001 to 2006, it seemed that everyone and their sister had babies:
*Lots of them had babies and didn't even want children. Really? I'd gladly have taken them.
*Some of them made comments like "I can bump into a girl in a bar and get her pregnant!" which had nothing to do with me, but I sure internalized it. Oh... that's what we were doing wrong. All that money to our doctors and we could have been bumping into each other at bars.
*Some of them said "you are the last person I'm telling that I'm pregnant, because I wasn't sure you could handle it." So, not only was I the last to get pregnant, but now I'm left out of your life.
*Some of them said "I guess your miscarriage was just 'God's will' because maybe something might have been wrong with your baby." Right. Because that matters. Something *wrong*. Jerkface.
*Some of them refused to talk about babies around me, while others talked about nothing else.
*Some of them called coming to my child-free house a "playdate"... which it wasn't.
*Lots of them didn't know what to say... so I'm about to tell you:
Say "I'm sorry." Say "I don't get it." Say "I hurt for you." Say prayers for that woman... she easily could be you, your sister, or your wife. She didn't ask for fertility problems, she didn't ask for miscarriages. She wants nothing more than to be a mother... she would take any baby she could get.
God gave us the desire of our heart with Elizabeth. We know that for lots of women, it's not that easy. God knows that at the time, 5 years and 2 miscarriages that didn't seem too easy. We don't know why our road looked the way that it did, or why someone else's ends without their own Elizabeth. But we do know that it sucks, it hurts, it's painful, and some of "them" don't make it easier. Don't walk on eggshells around those women who hurt... just walk beside them.
Some of you may be wondering what you did during our years to help or to hurt. Don't worry, I'm not saying all of this to keep score. In that moment you may have broken my heart or have been part of it healing. You may have been the worst of the "them"s or the one that made the "them"s look normal. Whatever your role, I'm thankful that it's changed now that I'm a Mommy. Be aware of the hurting women around you, and ask them what they need from you. Their road will likely be different from mine... and hopefully they will tell you what they need. The asking alone will mean a lot.
As I write this, my precious Elizabeth is sitting on our back porch reading her "calendar" (she's put several scribbled-on pages together to be her very own Daytimer. Tell me that genetics don't exist...) I look at her and my heart bursts. I prayed for this type of joy, and I'm thankful I received it. Earlier this week when I told someone that it was the 6th anniversary of my last miscarriage, they were shocked would want to remember it. But I think I'll want to remember it forever. It's part of my story, it's part of my family, and it's part of me.
Broken heart, lost babies, and all.
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