New Year, New Focus

I started this blog when I was in the midst of our infertility struggle. I started it as a place to express my emotions, to share my journey with others who might be going through their own struggles, and to keep myself accountable to trust in God, even in the hard times.

I have been blessed to hear from several friends and other individuals who have read this blog, and it warms my heart to hear that our journey has been helpful or uplifting to others as they also learn to trust through their own hard times. If God can use my story to help others, I feel incredibly blessed to be a part of that.

Today things are different. Today I am holding the most precious and sweet 3-month-old baby girl in my arms, and I can't believe I am actually here. Although my infertility story has a happy ending (for now), this is also a time of beginnings. And you know what? I am still working hard on the "learning to trust" thing.

Apparently parenting is difficult! (Why didn't someone warn me? Oh wait, I think everyone did!) Parenting while one parent is in grad school is tricky. Living 500 miles away from family and friends is hard, but once you have a baby it gets much harder! And being married to a future pastor with no idea where you'll be living in a few years, well, if that isn't an exercise in trust, I don't know what is! I am realizing more and more that trusting God is not a skill that I am going to master, but a habit that I have to practice daily to maintain. And there is no way I can do that without God's help.

I honestly don't know where I am going with this blog, but although I have learned a lot and grown a lot of over the past few years, I know there is always more to learn and grow in. I want to continue to write about trusting God through the daily struggles of life. I will probably still write about infertility, because that will always be a part of my story and I feel passionately that we need to talk about it more and be more aware of couples going through it. But I will also start writing about other topics related to faith, family, and trusting God.

That is, if this sweet little girl in my arms gives me time!

2013

What a year it has been! I think I can safely say that 2013 was the best year of my life. It has been a roller coaster of emotions, but looking back on everything I cannot believe how incredibly blessed I am.

This year started in uncertainty. We wanted to start a family so much but were unsure how to pursue that goal. In December of 2012 we had learned that having a baby naturally was highly unlikely for us. We decided not to do IVF even though our fertility doctor recommended it as the best option. This left us with Clomid or adoption as our options. In January of this year we decided to try Clomid for a month or two and then start the adoption process if we didn't get pregnant. We fully expected to be adopting by the end of January.

In February we got an incredible surprise when that first test showed up with two lines. 2013 has exceeded all my wildest expectations and hopes! I was blessed with a very smooth pregnancy and an uncomplicated natural labor and delivery. And on October 21st, my world changed forever when my beautiful daughter was born.

Looking back I cannot believe how well this past year has gone. I could not be happier or more blessed. God is very good!

January 2013

February 2013

March 2013

April 2013 

May 2013

June 2013 

July 2013 

August 2013 

September 2013 

October 2013 

November 2013

December 2013 

What I've Learned: God's Faitfulness

As I look back over the past year of my life I can't help but be amazed and how blessed I am. If you asked me what "best case scenario" would be last Christmas, I probably would have described exactly what transpired over this last year. We got pregnant on our very first medicated cycle; how very fortunate we were! And Charis is such a wonderful blessing! There are no words to describe the love and joy that we feel to have her in our lives. What a gift.

I've been thinking lately about what I've learned through this past year and the experience of infertility over the past few years. I've been trying to think about on what I've learned about God, about trusting him, and how my faith has grown through this. It is very hard to put my finger on. It would be easy to say that I have learned to trust God even when I don't see why certain things happen because He has a perfect, better plan that is better than anything I can ever imagine. That would be easy, and you might believe it. But I don't think I would. Because the truth is, I am so grateful for Charis, but there are other things going on in my life, and I knew the future will hold other struggles, and those struggles are still hard. It is still hard for me to feel peaceful and trusting and content about every aspect of my life. I still desire to control things and wish that I could have things exactly my way. And I don't know why infertility happened to me. I don't exactly see why it was necessary. While I trust God to love me and care for me, I don't think that everything in my life will be the way I want it to be all the time. And I am still learning to trust that God's plan will be better than my plan, because my plans always sound really great to me at the time. 

It is almost a Christian cliche, the idea that if you pray enough, wait long enough, have enough faith, etc. then God will give you whatever you are asking for. I think that having faith in God's providence and care for you, praying to him for the desires of your heart, and waiting patiently are all great things. I think God wants us to do those things. But I know that we will never have faith, wait patiently, or trust in God perfectly. We will never have enough faith or pray fervently enough to deserve anything from God. We cannot make God act. God chooses to act. God does know what is best for us, sometimes it is what we thought we wanted and sometimes it is not, and sometimes bad things happen just because and there is no reason for it at all.

The good news is that God knows that we will never trust him perfectly, he knows that our faith can always be stronger and we can always be more patient. His Holy Spirit living in us is what allows our faith to grow and our patience to increase. The good news is that even when our faith is not strong and when we doubt, God is faithful anyway. God loves us and desires to bless us, and he does so despite our imperfect faith, impatience and doubts.

I think that is what I have learned: even when I am not faithful, even when I do not trust God the way I should, God is always faithful. His love and the way he has blessed me this past year is overwhelming.

As it is Advent, I was listening to a sermon recently about Zechariah. That account from Luke 1 simply blows me away, and I think summarizes what I've learned in this journey about God. In this story Zechariah and Elizabeth are childless, and long to have a child. While Zechariah is serving in the temple , God sends Gabriel, an angel, to tell Zechariah that Elizabeth will have a son. Their son will be John the Baptist, who will prepare the way for Jesus' ministry. When Zechariah hears that God has heard their prayer and is going to answer it, he does not believe it. He doubts God's faithfulness. We've all done that in our own lives, and I know I've been there over the course of this journey. But notice what happens next... God still blesses Zechariah. God doesn't say, "Fine, you didn't believe me. You doubted my love. Your faith is lacking. No kid for you." Sure, Gabriel points out Zechariah's lack of faith, and Zechariah is unable to speak until the baby is born. But God still gives them a baby! God is still faithful to Zechariah despite Zechariah's doubts and unfaithfulness.

And another note about Zechariah and Elizabeth, check out Luke 1:6-7: "And they were both righteous before God, walking blamelessly in all the commandments and statutes of the Lord.  But they had no child, because Elizabeth was barren, and both were advanced in years." The Bible says that Zechariah and Elizabeth were righteous and blameless before God - it wasn't anything they did wrong that caused their infertility, it wasn't a lack of faith that kept them from having a baby, and the reason that they had no child had nothing to do with God or them. The Bible just says that they had no child because Elizabeth was barren. Things just happen. And although it seemed to take forever, and ultimately Zechariah and Elizabeth gave up hope, God was faithful to them and chose to bless them with a child. 

This story doesn't just apply to infertility. We all have things that we ask God for, things that we feel are missing in our lives, and we all struggle with trusting God at times. We want things to be the way we want them to be. But even when we are not faithful, God always is. And even though that may mean an answer to our prayer today, or it may not, we can rely on God's faithfulness. 

Baptized into Christ

Charis was baptized this past Sunday, November 24th. What a beautiful, miraculous moment that was! 

Jesus says, "Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." (Matthew 19:14) We believe that in the waters of baptism God sent his Holy Spirit to work faith in Charis' heart so that she can have a saving faith and relationship with her heavenly Father even before she is old enough to understand what that means. After all, we all have flawed understanding and none of us can do anything to participate in our salvation. It is indeed a wonderful blessing that God promises to be with us from the moment of our baptism on, giving us confidence in our salvation in a way that we could never be confident if having faith was "up to us" or something we had to do. 

I have been looking forward to the moment Charis would be baptized since before I knew I was expecting her. Baptisms are such powerful events that I have always teared up when seeing infants baptized in church - I couldn't wait to share that moment with my own children and start on that path of helping my child discover their faith and learn about God. 

Jonathan and I are both very excited about teaching Charis about God and what Jesus has done for her, and reminding her of God's gifts and promises to her in her baptism as she grows older. As we talked about baptism and how we hope to raise Charis and any future children, we both agreed that we hope to make a big deal about our children's baptismal birthdays. After all, baptism is a big deal and should be celebrated! One's baptismal birthday is in many ways more significant than one's actual birthday. On her birthday Charis was born into a sinful world already a sinner, already separated from God for all eternity. The only hope for her was Jesus Christ and the fact that He came and died and rose for her that she could live with Him for all eternity. In her baptism, Charis died to her old sinful self and was re-born into Christ. Still a sinner, but also a saint, also one who is redeemed and one with a saving faith in Jesus and what he has done for her. We were all designed to be in a relationship with God. On her baptismal birthday Charis was born into who she was designed to be. That is worth celebrating! 

As we were talking about the ways we might celebrate or commemorate our children's baptismal birthdays, we discussed whether it would be a good occasion to mark with presents. The two best days in a kid's life tend to be Christmas and their birthday, because on these days they get presents! Presents seem to be the way our culture marks days and holidays as significant and important. I thought about giving presents for baptismal birthdays, but not only does that not seem practical (and honestly the thought of another day of the year to bring stuff into my home makes me cringe - I'm already somewhat dreading the takeover of stuff and toys that will probably mark the next era of my life if I'm not careful), but it also doesn't seem right to me that presents and acquiring more material possessions are necessary to mark a day as special. That's not how I want to raise my kids. Don't get me wrong, I do love to get presents on my birthday, and I love presents at Christmas, but that's plenty! 

After some consideration, we came up with an alternative to presents that will hopefully help us mark these days as special. We are thinking of celebrating baptismal birthdays with family outings or other fun, family events. Something like a trip to the zoo, putt putt golfing, laser tag, going to a movie, or another fun activity that the whole family can enjoy and that will still be something we do not always have the opportunity to do. I know we have a while to figure these things out, but it's good to start thinking ahead. And of course, we will both strive to remind Charis of her baptism daily, not just once a year. After all, no other day in her life will ever be more significant. 

Praise God for all His blessings to us and our little girl! 

Birth Story

I went back and forth many times about posting this. I struggled with whether or not sharing my birth story was "over-sharing" or not. It doesn't get much more personal than giving birth, and I have always been somewhat uncomfortable with talking about personal things. But at the same time I love reading other women's birth stories. Having a baby is one of the most significant, special moments in a person's life, and of course I would want to share that. Also, I find reading others' birth stories to be beautiful, so I assume that some people out there feel the same way.

Looking back on the day my daughter was born, it was both the hardest and the best day of my life. How is that possible? Well, anyone who has had a baby will probably understand. At the time I was going through pregnancy and labor I didn't want to share any details with hardly anyone - it was just too personal. But now that it's in the past, I feel more comfortable with it. So I decided to post a "cleaned up" version of my story. I left out many of the more graphic details, but I still caution you - if you're uncomfortable with birth stories, obviously you should skip reading this post.

My Daughter's Birth Story

Saturday, October 19^th

I worked my full 9-hour day on Friday, but wrapped up everything I had going on at work, hoping that it would be my last day in the office. I was feeling pretty good, so I told my co-workers that I was planning not to be back the next week, but if I still felt this good, I might come in on Monday and Tuesday. I had an appointment on Wednesday, so I was planning not to work that day or from that point on.

I was having contractions throughout the day on Saturday, but they were not painful, so I thought they were still just pre-labor contractions like I had been having off and on for weeks. These were a little stronger though, and were accompanied sometimes by cramps, which was new. I was feeling so poorly by the evening that we weren’t sure if we would make it to church on Sunday.

Sunday, October 20^th

I woke up in the morning around 1:30am with stronger contractions than I had felt before. And the crampy feelings were getting very painful. I watched the clock as I lay in bed, and after about 40 minutes I realized that I couldn’t sleep through these, and they were coming only five minutes apart or so. They weren’t consistent, but the longest interval in that time frame was seven minutes. I woke up Jonathan and told him what was going on. After we timed them for another half hour or so, he convinced me to call my doctor and ask about them, since they had been coming five minutes apart for over an hour. I called the exchange, and they connected me with my OB, who was fortunately on call. She said to keep timing them, and if they got stronger and were consistent for a while longer, I could go to the hospital. We tried to sleep some more, but I couldn’t sleep through them at all, and they were getting more painful. I got in the shower and they sped up to two to three minutes apart and continued to get more painful. We ended up going to the hospital around 6am.

When we got to the hospital we went to triaging and they monitored the baby for a while. She was doing really well, and when I was checked I was three centimeters dilated and 90% effaced. They told me I could walk around for an hour and they would re-check me at 7:30. We walked around between contractions, with me leaning on the wall and waiting for each one to pass while Jonathan rubbed my back. I was feeling them in my lower back the entire time. When they re-checked me, they said I was four centimeters, and they admitted us and moved us to a Labor and Delivery room.

While in the triaging room I found out that I had tested positive for GBS. My doctor must have forgotten to mention that to me, and I must have forgotten to ask about it, because I didn’t know until the nurse said that it was in my chart. That meant that I would have to have antibiotics during labor, which had to be administered through an IV. I had really hoped to avoid an IV, so I was very disappointed, and also frustrated with myself for forgetting to follow up and ask about the results to that test. Fortunately, because of my penicillin allergy, they had to give me a different drug than the one usually administered, and the one they gave me only had to be given every eight hours during labor, as opposed to every four hours with the standard drug. They allowed me to do intermittent monitoring and administered the antibiotic during the first round of monitoring so that I would be able to disconnect the IV and move around as soon as it was administered.

While getting my IV, the anesthesiologist stopped in to see me. I was planning to go all natural, but he came anyway to talk about options just in case I changed my mind. As a young teenager I had back surgery to correct Scoliosis, and I have a long spinal fusion and rods in my back. I showed the anesthesiologist my x-rays and after looking at them for a few minutes he said that he would not give me an epidural. With how low my rods extended and all the scar tissue that was there, he thought it very likely that it would not work, or that there would be complications. He said that if I ended up needing an emergency C-section, he would attempt to do a spinal, but if that didn’t work it would have to be general anesthesia. At this point it didn’t bother me too much to know that I couldn’t have an epidural, because I had been planning to go without anyway.

We alternated between walking around the hospital and using the exercise ball for hours as the contractions kept coming. They were still coming around 3 minutes or so apart at this point and were very consistent. Around 1pm my doctor arrived and checked me. She said I was still only four centimeters. She wanted to start pitocin to help get things going, but I told her that I would not be able to have an epidural and was therefore afraid of the stronger, more painful contractions that I heard accompany pitocin. She agreed that in that case she would not recommend that route, and said that my other option was to go home. She said the contractions were not strong or painful enough to dilate all the way and that they might peter off or they might get stronger, but at this point they weren't strong enough for me to stay in the hospital if I wasn't progressing.

I went home. We got home around 2:30pm and I laid down with a heating pad and tried to take a nap. I may have gotten an hour or two of sleep in between the contractions. They slowed down to every 20 minutes or so, but never went away. I didn't know if our baby girl would still be born soon, or if the contractions would stop and I’d have to wait for days longer. It was stressful, and on top of that my doctor had told me that the contractions would have to be much, much more painful, which was scary since I was already in so much pain with each one.

Jonathan and I tried to go to bed Sunday night, but by 11:30pm the contractions were coming every 5 minutes again and I knew for sure that this was different. They were so much more painful than they had been earlier that day that I couldn't keep from crying out with each one. I tried getting in the shower, but they were so painful and coming so close together that the shower did nothing to alleviate the pain. I could barely stand up through them anymore.

Jonathan quickly re-packed the car and we went back to the hospital. We were admitted again just a few minutes after midnight.

Monday, October 21^st

When we were admitted I was five centimeters dilated and 100% effaced. I spent the next two or three hours on a birthing ball, with my head resting on the bed between contractions. I was so tired I could hardly think, and the contractions were so much more painful than they had been earlier in the day. They were coming so close together that I felt like I didn’t get much of a  break between each one. Jonathan sat there behind me the whole time rubbing my back and saying encouraging things. I didn’t have energy to acknowledge him, but having him there was very comforting. My water broke sometime around 2am. Around 3am or so my nurse checked me again and I was seven centimeters. I was glad to be making progress, but I didn’t know how I could possibly survive at this rate until we got to ten. I don’t know what would have happened if an epidural had been an option for me – I might very well have asked for one at some point. I hope I would have resisted the temptation, but I can't say that I would have with any confidence. They did offer to give me other pain medication through an IV, but I asked if there were side effects for the baby, and they said it would make her sleepy. I said I would see if I could go without, and I’m glad I didn’t give in, but I seriously considered it.

At this point my nurse suggested I get in the shower. I’m so glad she was there to make me do it, because it helped a lot. It didn’t really help with the pain, but I went from seven to ten in about an hour and a half or so in the shower. At that point I felt the urge to push, so I got out of the shower and went back to the bed. The nurse never told me not to push, she said I could go right ahead and she got on the phone and got everyone in the room as fast as she could. Thankfully, I only had to push for 45 minutes or so. My doctor got there about five to ten minutes before our daughter was born.

Those 5½ hours from midnight to 5:30am were easily the hardest hours of my life. Jonathan and my nurse kept reassuring me that I was doing really well, that my daughter would be here any minute, and that they could see her head, etc. I don’t think I processed any of that. I hardly knew what I was doing. But Jonathan tells me that the second that she was born it was like a switch was flipped – my face changed from one expressing sheer pain to the happiest he’d ever seen me. I think my first joyful thought on seeing her was she’s out; that means I’m not in labor anymore! Thank God, I’m done!  But instantly following that thought I really saw her, and she was so beautiful, so perfect, even all slimy and messy. They wiped her off quickly and gave her to me and I was able to hold her for the next hour and a half or so. I hardly noticed what happened next, because I had my beautiful daughter in my arms. She had so much dark hair, and she looked so much like Jonathan! We were both in love instantly.

After they were done stitching me up, the nurse helped me get her into position and start breastfeeding. She did very well at that, and I fed her for 30 minutes or so. They let me hold her while they gave her her shot and eye ointment, and she did so well with all of that. Eventually they took her and gave her a bath, but I could still see her from my bed and watched. One of the most amazing things was that while she was crying during the bath, if Jonathan or I talked to her she calmed down right away. It was so obvious that she knew our voices.

Our daughter was born at 5:36am, 6lbs, 1oz, and absolutely beautiful after over 27 hours of completely natural, medication-free labor. I can't take credit for any of that, though. She is a beautiful, miraculous gift from God, and the fact that I made it through those 27 hours on only a few hours of sleep - I can only thank God that I survived that as well.

I also have to be thankful in a strange way for my back surgery and for the anesthesiologist who refused to give me an epidural. Having that option off the table helped me resist the temptation to take the pitocin when my doctor suggested it. Clearly I didn't need it, as I gave birth all on my own about 14 hours after it was offered.  I really did want to go all-natural, and considering how very hard it was, I'm glad that it was really my only option because I very well might have had a much different, more complicated story otherwise. God really does know what He is doing!