To My Children Living in the 21st Century

To my Children,

You are growing up in the 21st Century. This is such an incredible time to be alive - with the click of a button, you can speak to anyone, anywhere in the world, and see their faces in real time. You can hop on a plane and see parts of the world your ancestors could only dream about. You know within minutes if something terrible has happened on the other side of the world, and you can quickly check Facebook to know if your friend has been "marked safe." You can find any information you need to help you make any decision you need to make. And you have access to incredible, life-saving medical care should you ever need it. It's a truly remarkable time to be alive. 

But there's something you need to know: You are not God. You were created and formed and given life by the One who created this world. He gave you dreams and a future and the most incredible mind. He gave you power in your words and access to himself through Jesus. He gave you free will to make choices and decisions. Decisions that truly are yours to make. But He did not make you the god of your life. You are not God. 

As you walk through your life here on earth, I pray that you will always remember that there is someone far greater and far more powerful than yourself. And oh, He loves you so much. You are the product of His heart and mind and purposes. And I hope that knowing that will give you peace. You don't have to be God. There are decisions that are not yours to make. 

Something happened this week that garnered a lot of attention in the social media world. Another state removed bans on abortion. I wish that I had to explain to you what abortion is, but I know that you already know. You will have learned about this in your school books. We will have to have early conversations about it at home. And my heart breaks to say that it will be regarded in most places as progress. As women's rights. Your freedom to choose. 

But let me remind you: You are not God. With more rights comes more responsibility. And there are responsibilities that God never intended you to have. The power over life and death was never intended to be yours. It's a power that you were not created to bear. And children, I pray that you will never take on the weight of thinking that it is a choice you have to make. It's far too much for your human heart. 

As your mother, I pray that you will never be in a position where you are faced with this choice. My heart aches to think of you encountering something so difficult. But if you do, I pray you will remember that you are not God and it is not your responsibility to make that choice.  I pray that you will never forget that the power of life and death is in the hands of one so powerful that even the wind and waves obey His voice. One so powerful that people rise up from the dead at His command. From One so powerful that He knows the end from the beginning. And you, my children, do not have to bear the weight of decisions that only He is qualified to make.

My children, I also pray if you ever find yourself in a place where you've taken on a responsibility that you were not designed for, and the weight of it is too heavy to bear, that you would know how far and wide and deep is the love of and grace of your Father. Nothing you do will ever outweigh the love He has for you.

I want you to know that I'm not blind to the pain and brokenness of this world. I see the situations that seem too heavy to bear. The mother who ultimately sacrifices her life for the baby she's never met. The father who loses his precious wife and baby. I ask why. I get angry. I cry out that it isn't fair. But I also see the family who is faced with the unknown, and knows that they can rest in knowing that the one who created their child, holds their child in His arms. I've watched the baby who was given mere seconds to live, smiling and chunky at almost a year old. I've seen the baby who was born not breathing, filled with life and breath, thriving and filling each room he enters with life. I've seen the mother who was told she may not survive childbirth watch all four of her beautiful children grow up. 

So, precious children of mine, if you are presented with choices that are not yours to make, I pray you'll find peace and hope in resting in the One qualified to make those decisions instead. The One who works all things together for the good of those who love Him are all called according to His purpose. I pray that when you face things that don't make sense and break you in the deepest way, you will never forget that your Creator loves you. I pray that you will see miracles unimaginable. But mostly, I pray that you will never forget that you are not God, and that that is a good thing. 

On the day you turn one.

Dear Daughter,

Today is the day you turn one year old. I've known your face for 365 days. I've smelled your head and known your cry. For one whole year. Though its just one day, and tomorrow you will not be much different from today, it is a big day. A special day. This is the day that we celebrate the world getting to meet you.

We get to remember the day you entered our lives. You knew it was time and you came, unexpectedly fast and without hesitation. It took a moment for you to cry, but when you did, you sounded bigger than the 3 lbs 12 oz that you were. We always knew you were a fighter - the odds were against you from the start. But God is bigger than the odds. And what a gift he gave us in you.

I'll never forget the day I saw that faint pink line - the first symbol of you. You surprised me. Oh, I wanted you. But in my human mind, I only knew the reasons the timing seemed wrong. My body needed some support to be able to support you. Babies are expensive and our budget wasn't ready. We would try later. But there you were, the faintest of lines. We told your grandparents within minutes. We didn't want to waste a minute of your existence wondering if we would lose you, like we lost your sibling. You've been prayed for since that faint pink line.

And you grew. And I grew. And we wrestled with God over the possibility of losing you. But He so graciously answered our prayers. I'll never forget that night in the ER, waiting for hours to hear if you had everything you needed to stay safe inside of me. Simultaneously begging God to protect you and declaring that even if not, He was still good. I'll never forget the doctor coming into the room and telling me that everything looked perfect. It had not been. But God.

And I'll never forget the day we learned you were a girl. My daughter. We wasted no time in sharing with the family. We bought you clothes and started planning your pink room. I'm sorry if I forever ruin pink and gold for you.

And I'll never forget the day we discovered how small you were. God is so funny the way He works. Our ultrasound was not for your size. But God. A completely unrelated concern got our eyes on you. I'll never forget the doctor looking at me and telling me, "Your baby is very small and I can't find a reason why." And so began multiple opinions and countless ultrasounds. And oh you were so small. I asked the ultrasound tech one day if you were at least growing on your curve and she responded, "Well, she's not even on the charts so there is no curve."

And then it was time. I sat in that chair, monitors listening to your heartbeat, drinking ice water and turning from one side to the other. They left me for an extra 10 minutes before moving me to ultrasound. I wasn't scheduled for a comprehensive growth scan, but thats what they did. And as I waited for the doctor, I knew something was off. I'll never forget the words, "The baby was nonreactive on the stress test, she wasn't practicing her breathing on the ultrasound, and her growth interval was bad. The recommendation with preeclampsia and these signs of distress in the baby is to induce at 34 weeks. We would like to admit you to have this baby tomorrow." I held it together the best I could, but I'll never forget calling your dad in tears and telling him it was time. I'll never forget my nurse, Nancy, giving me a big hug and telling me it was okay to cry, and that it was going to be okay. I'll never forget being wheeled into L&D.

And I'll never forget that night before you were born. The incredible nurses waiting an extra half hour to start me on my magnesium drip so I could eat one final meal. The hot flashes and blurry vision as the meds for my preeclampsia set in. The moment I finally asked for some pain meds so I could sleep. The urgent call Theresa made to the charge nurse when she couldn't find your heartbeat after my epidural. The moment at 9:45 am when I asked they check my progress, and we calmly started preparing for delivery in about two hours. And that moment 15 minutes later when you came rushing into the world. Your preemie team wasn't present. My high risk doctor wasn't present. But you filled the room, Baby girl, and I'll never forget that moment.

I'll never forget the 24 hours following your birth. I couldn't see you or hold you. Your daddy was with you, but mommy had to wait. It was one of the best days of my life and one of the worst. Mommies aren't supposed to be separated from their babies. But your daddy told me all about you and I worked hard to give you all the things you needed to start your life strong. I'll never forget hearing that the nurses at the nursing station were talking about how lucky you were to have me as your momma. I didn't think I was doing anything special to wake up and pump that gold for you, but those words were a balm to my heart as I waited to get to be with you.

And oh that moment I saw you for the second time. The most beautiful little doll I've ever seen. You looked so peaceful laying there in your "box," as your brother called it. I'll never forget your brother seeing you for the first time. He has loved you from the start, baby girl. You have the best big brother.

Then I went home. And you didn't come. And I cried the whole way. And I spent 24 days leaving the hospital without you. But I'll never forget the day I left and you came too. It was your 25th day of life. And you'd already overcome so much. You gained over a pound, you learned to eat, and you had already touched more hearts than we'll ever know. I'll never forget your nurses. Each one blessed me in a way I can't express. They made your homecoming bittersweet, and that is a good thing.

And then came your first Christmas and your first New Years. You weren't even supposed to be here yet. We were so thankful to have you safely in our arms. I'll never forget the late night and early morning snuggles. You've always given the best snuggles. And I'll never forget the five times you latched to nurse. Most of the time,  you screamed when we tried. But those five peaceful times were a gift, and I'll never forget, baby girl. Thank you.

And then when you were only 11 weeks old, something terrible happened. And I'll never forget holding you close and crying. You provided love in the midst of incredible pain. You've always been exactly what we needed.

And you grew and you grew. You weren't as chatty as your brother but you always got hangry like your daddy. You started laughing, mostly with your big brother. You met your cousins and stole hearts left and right. You started sitting, and feeding yourself, and crawling. You clap and wave and play peek-a-boo. And I'll never forget each time I packed clothes away. A season of your life over so quickly, but a new one around the corner.

And now here we are. One year old. Another season ending, a new one beginning. And I'm excited. But I never want to forget. Because you, baby girl, have been one of God's greatest gifts to me. You've taught me more about trust and surrender than anything else. You've filled our home with more love than we thought possible.

So today, on the day you turn one, I pray you always know you are loved. You are celebrated. You are wanted more than words can say. Never, ever forget that. Happy first Birthday, baby girl.

My Miracle Baby

When Noah was born, I blogged his birth story and it was one of the ways that I processed his pregnancy and birth. (You can find that here if you get done reading Emmy's story and want proof as to just how opposite my baby's birth stories are!). Then, when we lost our baby at the beginning of this year, I also blogged about it as a way to process it and share our story so that if others were experiencing the same thing, they would know they weren't alone. You can find that story here. If you haven't read that blog, go ahead and go read it, because Emmy's story picks up only a few short weeks later.

WARNING: This is long and jumbled. I have two kiddos and no time to go through and edit down. Good luck!

After losing our baby in March of this year, one of the things that caused me sadness was the unknown of how long it would take to be able to have another baby. We had been wanting to grow our family for almost a year, so when I was finally pregnant, we were ecstatic. Of course, when I miscarried less than a week later, one of my first thoughts was, "Well then when, God?" Since my miscarriage was so early, there was no reason to wait for trying again, so we went into the next month thinking we would start trying right away to get pregnant again. Bloodwork during my miscarriage suggested that a possible cause was insufficient progesterone, so we made an appointment with a doctor friend of my midwife's that has had great success in supplementing progesterone to help women not lose pregnancies.

Dr. Anselmi was very helpful in explaining how supplementing progesterone may help and he agreed that trying to get pregnant again right away would be fine - especially because your body is already somewhat in "pregnancy mode" and it can make it easier to actually get pregnant. However, we talked through some symptoms I'd had for a while and decided to run some bloodwork on my thyroid. After that, we went on our way with a prescription for progesterone that I was supposed to start taking the day after ovulation. However, when my bloodwork came back, it showed a possibly underperforming thyroid - nothing diagnosable, but enough of an issue that Dr. Anselmi said with a few days of hormone treatment, we could probably fix it. With that news, we decided to wait on trying to get pregnant again. I didn't want to lose another baby to something that was quickly fixable. A couple of days later, we packed up in less than 10 hours, and made a completely last minute two week trip out to Atlanta and Florida to say goodbye to David's wonderful Da (grandpa) and to see my family.

Now, I know this seems like a lot of backstory, but I promise you there's a reason I'm telling it. Emmy Rae wasn't even supposed to happen. We were avoiding pregnancy and I didn't take my progesterone (which, by the way, I needed as my levels were still borderline too low my entire pregnancy). When we got back from our trip, I noticed that my basal body temperature was still high on the day I expected it to drop (if you are a lady and don't track your cycles, I'd encourage you too - you can learn so much!). I decided to take a pregnancy test just in case I was somehow pregnant because if so, I needed to start on progesterone ASAP. I took the test, fully expecting a negative. So when that little pink line showed up, I was shocked. Miracle number one.

There was no cutesy way of telling David. I called him on his way home from work and told him to pick up some more pregnancy tests. When those came back positive, there was no cutesy way of telling our parents or closest friends - we called them immediately and asked them to please start praying that this pregnancy and baby would be healthy. And that's how Emmy found her place in our family and in our hearts. It wasn't "supposed" to happen, and from the very beginning, she has demanded the supernatural protection of prayer.

Fast forward to July. I was 14 weeks pregnant and had finally relaxed, knowing I was past the "danger zone" for miscarriage. I had started to allow myself to bond more strongly with the baby, instead of working so hard to protect myself in case of loss. And then we ended up in the Emergency room. I had begun to suspect that I was leaking amniotic fluid - something that is very very not good, especially that early in pregnancy. My midwife had come to my house to test the fluid and check on the baby, and everything pointed to my suspicions being correct. My normally right-on-track-measuring uterus was measuring 3 weeks behind, indicating of low fluid, and the ph level of the fluid was the same as amniotic fluid. So she sent me straight to the ER to have more specific testing and an ultrasound done. We spent 6 hours in tears, asking God to please protect our baby, doing tests, and ultrasound, and waiting for someone to tell us what was going on. (Although to be honest, we spent most of that time waiting for a room. *insert eye roll here*). When the doctor *finally* came in to give us some answers, we were shocked to hear that everything was just fine. My fluid levels were good and the test for amniotic fluid came back negative. Of course, its possible that everything was fine all along, but the words and prayers of some family members, and my mom gut, tells me that something was wrong, and the Lord intervened on Emmy's behalf. Miracle number two. 

A few weeks later, when we received a bill for over $3000 dollars, we learned that we qualified for pregnancy Medicaid even though our income was quite a bit over the regular Medicaid limit. We worked like crazy to get that active in the system. This extra insurance coverage is miracle number three. My primary insurance covers no prenatal services at all, so we were just praying that everything would go according to plan with our homebirth. Without the ER episode, we would have been in so much financial trouble later on.

Fast forward again to 27 weeks. My progesterone was monitored every two weeks to keep an eye on my levels and with this blood draw, it dropped down significantly. I had done research and knew that my placenta was responsible for progesterone production at this point so I began to question if my placenta was working properly. If it wasn't producing progesterone properly, was it also not providing Emmy with nutrients and oxygen like it should? This led me to go see Dr. Anselmi again. He put my fears at bay and said that while we could do an extra ultrasound, he didn't think it was necessary as she sounded wonderful on the Doppler and my uterus was measuring perfectly. We decided to hold off.

Two weeks later, I became concerned that my cervix was changing prematurely. I went straight to my midwife, who confirmed that I was 2 cm dilated and 40-50% effaced. She put me on modified bedrest and sent me for an ultrasound to determine if there was a reason Emmy might be trying to come early. Although my cervix didn't cause any more issues, the ultrasound alerted us to Emmy's growth restriction. She was measuring tiny. After a couple of follow ups and a third opinion, we officially transferred care to the high risk group at Memorial Central. Though it was initially hard to give up my plans for a homebirth with the midwife that delivered Noah, I felt so much peace knowing she was getting the care that she needed. I also loved the group of doctors, nurses, and ultrasound technicians that so willingly took me and Emmy on to make sure she would be born safely.

We began twice weekly monitoring and did all kinds of bloodwork. At first, we could still not find a reason for Emmy being severely growth restricted. She was consistently measuring in the less than 1st percentile. Noah was born at 8 lbs 3 oz, so I do not have a history of small babies ;). The doctor's wisdom and discernment led them to have me do a 24 hour urine catch to check for preeclampsia despite my bloodwork looking great and my having no symptoms of the sickness. Sure enough, I was spilling protein. Normal levels of protein in a 24 hour urine catch are 225 or less. My levels came back at 1040. I'm so thankful for the doctors that weren't satisfied with not checking for everything, despite me on the outside looking completely healthy.  I got into their care at just the right time and a disease I had no symptoms of was caught. They made the call to give me steroids just in case we needed to deliver Emmy earlier than 37 weeks. Miracle number four. 

On the day before Thanksgiving, I went in for my second non-stress test and ultrasound of the week. Emmy had looked great two days earlier so I assumed it would be a quick appointment and I'd be on my way to get some groceries to make freezer meals. I had no idea that I would be induced less than 6 hours later.

Emmy was not responsive on the non-stress test. Her heart rate wasn't dipping, but it was going up like it should either. I assumed she was just sleepy as she'd been moving the whole time I drove to the hospital. They took me back for an ultrasound and ended up doing a full growth scan, even though that wasn't schedule until the next week. A few minutes later, the high risk doctor came in and told me that she wasn't performing on the ultrasound like she had been, and her growth interval was not good. I would be 34 weeks the next day, and it was time to get this baby out. I didn't know this in the moment, but this decision at this time was miracle number five. 

I called David in tears and told him to leave work and come to the hospital because we were having a baby. I called my mother-in-law and asked her to please pick up Noah from his play date with David's boss' wife and daughter. David got to the hospital and we were wheeled back to Labor and Delivery. Once we were admitted, Dr. Alanis came in to explain how we would induce. He told me that I was basically the opposite of what preeclampsia usually is. It usually happens to first time moms. I was a second time mom with no issues with my first. It usually attacks mom more than baby. I was completely fine and Emmy was the one being attacked. It usually happens at term, and for me it was preterm, etc.

Because of the preeclampsia, I had to be on magnesium sulfate for my entire labor, delivery, and a full 24 hours after. I like to call mag sulfate the "death drip." It literally makes you feel so awful - crazy hot flashes, weak, headache, and its a muscle relaxant so you can't get out of bed, and you have to get a catheter to pee if you don't want to be messing with a bedpan every hour. So that was fun.

I was about 8 hours into ripening my cervix when I started begging for pain meds. Guys, I wasn't even 2 cm and didn't even have Pitocin going yet. The cervadil was causing painful but not very productive contractions and I was over it. Theresa, my incredible overnight nurse, told me that while they see inductions without any pain meds, they don't ever see magnesium inductions without pain meds. I didn't care that my plan had been to try another all-natural labor and delivery. I wanted whatever they could give me the fastest. I got a dose of IV pain meds and it was the best. Two hours later when it started to wear off, I faced my fear of anesthesia and needles in my back, and got an epidural. There was no way I was going to get from 2 cm to 10 without some pain relief. Unofficial miracle number six, ha!

After the epidural started, my blood pressure dropped quite low, and because of the preeclampsia, the nurse had to be careful to not overcompensate in bringing it back up. Then, Emmy's heart rate dropped also. As I watched the nurse call urgently for the charge nurse for help, I thought it was the beginning of an emergency C-section. They got me on oxygen, and after changing my position, Emmy recovered. We are so thankful. Because of that episode, Theresa waited a couple of hours to start Pitocin. She wanted Emmy to have plenty of time to recover and rebuild her oxygen reserve.

At 6:30 my Pitocin drip started and I started pushing the "happy button" on my epidural quite a bit more. Shift change happened with the nurses and my new nurse, Joy, was in and out of the room. I asked her when she would check for progress and she said probably not until around 11:00 unless I started feeling more pressure. Up until this point I hadn't felt too much but about 10 minutes later, at 9:45 I told her that I was feeling more and she should at least check. I had dilated to a 6! I texted my midwife and told her it was time to come because the baby would probably be coming in a couple of hours. Joy started putting the delivery tray together, and David went to jump in the shower. Before either of them could really do anything, I started feeling like I needed to push. I told them both that I was basically holding the baby in. Joy called the nurses but there was no time to call the doctor and NICU team separately so she just pulled my emergency cord to get everybody there ASAP. Moments later I was crowning and Emmy was born at exactly 10:00 am. I didn't even push and I delivered both Emmy and an abrupted placenta. Placental abruptions can kill babies. Dr. Alanis was literally scooping extra pieces of my placenta out of my uterus. My Emmy was not only born in time, but she was healthy. Miracle number six. 

Emilia Rae was 3 lbs, 12 oz, and 18.5 inches long on November 23, 2017, breathing on her own. They let me hold her for a few minutes before taking her to the NICU. It was 24 hours before I was able to see her again. Thankfully, David was able to spend a lot of time with her and he facetimed me so I could see her. She was so perfectly healthy - no need for oxygen, and her blood sugar and temperature regulated quickly. She never needed jaundice lights. I was able to pump a lot of colostrum for her and my milk came in relatively quickly. She only dropped 2 oz during her first week and then began to steadily gain.

Emmy was born two days before the baby we miscarried would have been due. The Lord is so faithful. Emmy does not take that baby's place of course. The Lord taught me important things by walking through that miscarriage and I can't wait to find out if I have another son or daughter. BUT, He so faithfully gave me another baby to love, even sooner than I'd been expecting the other one. I didn't have to wait any longer to add to my family.

If you read my miscarriage blog, you'll see that one of my biggest fears has always been to miscarry. I walked through that this year. My second fear was having a premature baby and having to experience the NICU life. I also walked through that this year, and the Lord was so present through all of it. Leaving your baby at the hospital when you are discharged is hard. Not being your baby's primary caregiver for the first several weeks of their life is hard. But seeing your baby thrive and knowing they are receiving incredible care from seriously amazing NICU nurses, is wonderful. Emmy was in the NICU for 24 days. She grew like crazy and learned to take her food orally. We prayed she would be home by Christmas, and the Lord answered that prayer.

About a week ago, the pathology came back on my placenta. We already knew it was a bad placenta. I just didn't know how bad. I haven't spoken to the doctor yet to have everything explained to me in English, but the basic gist is this: My placenta was tiny. It wouldn't have been able to keep up with Emmy. It was also infected: moderate chorioamnionitis.  Feel free to google this and try to wade through the medical journals. Essentially its a bacterial infection that significantly increases your risk of pprom, premature delivery, stillbirth, fetal death at birth, and breathing issues/long-term complications for the baby. And it wasn't a new infection. There were other problems, including the rupture, and the infection starting to affect the amniotic fluid. I look forward to asking about all of this at my six-week follow up. Right now, this is what I know. Emmy is alive and thriving, and this is miracle number seven.

Thank you to the many, many of you who covered me and Emmy in prayer throughout her life. We are so thankful for you and for the Lord who heard those prayers and clearly has quite the calling on this little life. Emilia is already a month old today! We are loving having her home. Noah is doing so well, and Emmy is the most content little girl. Merry Christmas to all of you!

Thy will be done, Lord.

The last couple of weeks have had me in constant conversation with God. Conversations that have mostly started with, "Why, God?" You see, one of my deepest fears has always been losing a child, whether that be in the womb or later in life. I've always begged God to spare me that pain because I just couldn't imagine how my mommy heart would be able to walk through it. And then last week, He allowed David and I to face what we prayed we never would: we miscarried for the first time. We lost our second child.

We have been wanting to give Noah a little brother or sister for quite some time now and the waiting has been difficult. Its been a time of trying to trust in the Lord's timing and letting go of control of our lives (which I haven't been very good at). So you can imagine how excited and relieved I was to finally see that beautiful, but faint second line on a pregnancy test. I had just made peace with the Lord that I was yet again, not pregnant, so that line (okay, all three) was such a special gift to me. I even told a close friend, "I think the Lord was just waiting for me to surrender my plans to Him." I thought I understood exactly what the Lord was doing.

But as I waited a few days and kept testing to "confirm" my pregnancy, the lines slowly began to disappear. I spent three days in desperate prayer that God would protect my baby and that the fading lines were just a fluke. I thought that surely this couldn't be in His plan after I had finally surrendered my plan. I went to see my midwife, Dana, to do a blood test but before we even got the results, I began to miscarry. The next day, Dana called and let me know that the blood test confirmed the pregnancy but I had to tell her that we already had our answer.

Because I had been in limbo for several days, having an answer was somewhat of a blessing. But it wasn't the answer I wanted, and I spent several days in tears that would just come on suddenly as I let go of dreams that I had developed in even those few days. And yet, in the midst of this I felt an unexplainable peace. I told David that it was hard when people asked me how I was doing because I didn't know how to convey that I was truly walking through deep pain that could have me in tears at any moment and yet I was also experiencing deep peace. How do you explain feeling all of the raw human emotions, but knowing the supernatural peace of God at the same time?

After several days, I was processing things as well as I could and feeling a special closeness with the Lord. And then a few days later, we found out that several others that we love deeply were experiencing deep loss as well. The news completely broke me and I began to be upset with the Lord for allowing so much pain. My "Why's?" turned into "How could you...?" I was so mad at Him. I've known the Lord my whole life and I have seen His faithfulness over and over and over again. I have seen His goodness, I have experienced His love. But the events of the last few weeks made me so mad at Him. I wanted to know why He was allowing us and those we love to experience so much pain. I wanted answers.

Well, I don't have an answer. And it still hurts. But, the presence of the Lord has been so tangible to me. I was reading Jesus Calling a few days ago and I read this: " This is a time in your life when you must learn to let go: of loved ones, of possessions, of control...You can feel secure, even in the midst of cataclysmic changes, through awareness of My continual Presence. The One who never changes...As you release more and more into my care, remember that I never let go of your hand. Herein lies your security, which no one and no circumstance can take from you." This spoke to the deepest parts of my heart.

I like to be in control. I hate being so aware of how little control I actually have. I want those I love to be okay and I want to know exactly what the Lord is doing. But reality is that I'm not God, and all of that is beyond my control. I've been learning just a bit more about what the words, "Thy will be done," mean. Even when it hurts. Even when it's even harder than I ever imagined it would be. Even when those around me are hurting and there is nothing I can do. When I don't know what the future will look like. Thy will be done. I don't know when we will be blessed with another child. I don't know what the Lord has planned for our loved ones. But I do know that the Lord is close to the brokenhearted. I do know that His grace flows deeply and His love is fierce. I do know that only He can give a peace that passes all understanding. And today, I must choose to rest in the Truth of who He is so that I do not give into the fear of the unknown.

As I continue to process all that March has brought, I am choosing to change my conversations with God from "Why?" to "Thank you..." because in the midst of hard times, I have seen His care. And I am so deeply grateful for His care. I am so deeply grateful for the hope we have in Christ. And I can't wait to meet my little baby someday in Heaven.

This song has taken me before the Lord in worship all month long:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iCR_Fa8YV2U

Thy will be done, Lord.

Let's walk this road together, Momma.

Its 6:00 am. I've been awake since about 5:00 because Noah was up to eat. Sometimes after I feed him, I'll get on my phone for a few minutes just listening to make sure he doesn't cough on spit up or anything. This morning, my news feed on Facebook broke my heart. I saw moms in all different walks of life, struggling, hurting, and broken. All kinds of thoughts and feelings swirled around in my mind and heart, and I just couldn't turn them off. So here I am on the computer sitting in the dark while my baby sleeps in his crib and my husband in bed, because I need to get some of these thoughts out. I hope they speak to somebody. And bear with me if they are not cohesive.

Being a mom is amazing and its hard. Its the tension of being in control and having no control. Its being enough and at the same time, not being enough. It's loving somebody more than life itself but knowing that its not your love that gives that child life. Its being mommy to the child God gave you and yet knowing that even your child does not truly belong to you. Its doing all you can to give your child nourishment and health, but knowing that it is God who sustains them. It is the responsibility to do everything and yet the ability to do nothing. It is learning to live in the tension. The tension that God saw fit to allow.

And we are all walking this same road of mommy-hood. It doesn't matter if you have been a mom for 25 years or 25 minutes. If your child is 30 years old or if your child is 30 days in your womb. We have this in common: we are moms. The love we feel for our child is different and we understand. Its raw, unconditional, aching love. Love that would drive us to do anything for our kids. Love that makes feeling sick every day for three or more months of pregnancy worth it. Love that keeps us up all night long with a crying newborn even though we are desperate for rest. Love that moves us to sacrifice more than we ever have before in our life. Love that will keep us up at night waiting to know our teenagers are safely home. Love that we will make us forget our own dreams to make their dreams come true. Love that drives us to the Throne of God over and over and over again. Loves that causes us to feel deeply.

We feel joy more overwhelmingly. And pain as well. And fear. And yes, we know that God is in control and we know he has a plan. But those emotions run deep because being mommy opens a whole new level of depth in our hearts.

And even though we are all walking this same road, we are often walking it alone. We are afraid to walk with other moms and we are afraid to let other moms walk with us. And we desperately want to walk with each other. We know we need each other, deeply. But sometimes its uncomfortable. We argue over things like what is okay to eat during pregnancy, tummy sleeping or back sleeping, breastfeeding or bottle feeding, cereal for baby or no cereal for baby, to vaccinate on schedule or to pick and choose or to not vaccinate at all, to sleep train or not to sleep train, to homeschool or public school. We show each other the research and try to prove our point. We want to prove that we have made the right decisions. But we forget the most important thing: we are all moms who love our children deeply and we are all walking in this tension of mommy-hood together. We have control to make these decisions and we have no control at all. We all feel the weight of our decisions deeper and heavier than ever before--deeper than we even should, sometimes.

But we are scared and uncomfortable. We don't know how to walk in the trenches together. We don't know how to support each other when the going gets really tough. What do you say to the mommy who just lost her sweet baby she never met, and yours is smiling right at you? How do you support the new mommy who desperately wants breastfeeding to get easier and it just doesn't, but it worked out just fine for you? How do you support the mom who has chosen not to vaccinate and therefore, puts your child at higher risk? How do you support the mom who makes you feel selfish because you have chosen not to vaccinate?

How do we learn to walk this road together? We learn to be okay with not always being comfortable, and we have to be okay not always being "right." We don't always have the right words to say, but when things are really hard, there are no right words to say anyways. We don't need each other to make our struggles better and we don't always need to agree. We just need each other. We need to know we are not alone. We need to be okay feeling each others pain, even when its uncomfortable. We need to know that even when we would do things differently, we all understand the deep love and responsibility we feel. Even when we are going through completely different struggles and making different decisions, we understand on some level because we are all moms. And we can get beyond ourselves, our opinions, and our discomfort to see each other. To really see each other.

So we won't always have the right words to say. We won't always agree with the decisions we make. We won't all have the same joys and the same heartaches. But we are all moms. And we need to walk this road together, in love. We have to learn to live in the tension together. We are enough but we are not enough. We have to bring each other to our Savior. We have to stand in the gap and pray for one another, because being mommy is the hardest thing we will probably ever do. And none of us can go it alone.

Noah William's Birth Story

Hey :) It has been quite a while since either David or I have written anything on this blog. A lot has happened in the last year. We found out we were pregnant with a little boy, we went to Peru to visit my parents and let David experience where I grew up, I graduated with my degree in youth ministry from JBU, we moved to Colorado Springs, David got a new job, and I gave birth to our beautiful Noah William. Ever since I had him (two whole months ago! Can you believe it?) I have been wanting to share our birth story. It has been hard to find time to do that with a newborn, but thanks to my wonderful mother-in-law, who is watching Noah, I am taking the moment to write. Most of you probably won't even care too much what my birth story was, but to me it was very special, and I want to remember it. I'm already forgetting precious details as I get further and further away from it. So for those of you who are interested, I hope that you will in some way be blessed by it. 

My story really starts when we found out we were expecting Noah. We knew we wanted to look into having a homebirth. We both knew people who had had homebirths and had nothing negative to say about them, so we did some research and decided to pursue it. While we were in Colorado Springs for Christmas, we met with Dana Savage, a local midwife, and instantly connected with her. Even though she was a bit more pricey than some of the other midwives in the area, we quickly made the decision to book her for our birth, trusting that God would provide. When we went back to Siloam Springs, we saw an OB for prenatal care, but if I had any questions or needed advice, I would just call or text Dana. She was always so helpful and it was a good way to begin developing a relationship with her. 

As my pregnancy progressed, we noticed that my blood pressure wasn't really staying stable where it was supposed to. The doctor prescribed me medication to control it, but I knew that it wasn't really as high as he thought, since I monitored it regularly at home and knew that it was always quite a bit higher in the doctors office. I'm not saying that you shouldn't listen to your doctor, but I personally felt very uneasy taking BP medication if I didn't truly need it, so I asked Dana if there was anything else I could do to help control it. She told me to eat 120 grams of protein a day, stay well hydrated all day long, and to take a walk everyday. I did that, and my BP was stellar :) I never took the medicine the doctor prescribed and I carried a healthy baby fully to term. That was just one of the ways that God took care of me and Noah throughout the pregnancy.

Right after graduation, David and I moved back to Colorado and were so excited about beginning our care with Dana. However, we knew that we owed her several thousand dollars and had absolutely no idea how we were going to do it. We only had about 4 weeks until our deadline and we really had no money. But God is so big and God is so good. Within a week of graduation, He provided more than enough through various gifts, tax returns, pay checks, and a wedding that David photographed. When we got back to Colorado, we were able to make student loan payments, pay off our balance for OB care in Siloam, pay for unexpected car repairs, and pay Dana in full at our first visit, with money left over. I share that because it was such a HUGE testament to us to how God provides for our every need. He is the provider. 

The rest of my pregnancy was pretty good, but very stressful to me at points. There were two times that my blood pressure began to get high again, even though I was doing everything that I had been doing to keep it lower. I began to fear that I wouldn't get my homebirth due to risking out of it legally. The last few weeks, especially, were hard. I just wanted my baby to be born safely, but I continued to pray that we would get to have our homebirth. I was so excited to get to have the experience of staying home for labor and delivery, and having Dana and her assistant as my birth team. And God is good. He gave me the desires of my heart. 

On August 14, I woke up at three in the morning and noticed that I was having contractions that felt different than the braxton hicks I had been experiencing for weeks. I layed awake for a while just to make sure that they were real and consistent. They were. At about 5:30 I woke David up and told him that I had been having contractions for about an hour and a half, and they were all timeable (8 minutes exactly, actually). After that we tried to go back to sleep to get more rest but of course we couldn't! We were way too excited. At about 6:30, I called Dana to let her know that I was having contractions. She told me to keep her updated and she would come around 10:30 unless I needed her sooner. I got up and had some breakfast, David went to work (and came right back home again!), and we started to get the room upstairs ready for the day. We are actually living with David's parents and they let us have their room for labor and delivery, and for six weeks afterwards! I took a shower and then my mom came over to keep me company. I was having some back labor but didn't really think anything of it. When Dana arrived, she checked to see my progress and I was making slow but steady progress. She listened to the baby and he was doing great. She also took my BP, which was staying stable (lower than it had been in a few days actually!), praise the Lord. My contractions remained close together but inconsistent until about 5:00. Dana had come back to check me and I was at about a 5. She told me she was going to call her assistant to go get food together and then they would run some errands and come back, since I wasn't progressing too quickly. She advised me to go downstairs and have a good dinner (one of the reasons we wanted to stay home! You can eat!) so I did that. 

However, during dinner, my contractions which had been about 4-8 minutes apart were suddenly coming every 2-3 minutes. I was trying to eat but had to keep standing up to lean against something because that was most comfortable to me. I let Dana know and she came right back with her wonderful assistant, Kim. After I finished eating, we went upstairs, where I stayed until the baby was born. Labor really wasn't too difficult for me. Each contraction was painful, but I had a wonderful support team encouraging me through them, and they always went away. I was even smiling and laughing almost to the end! I told David he was blessed to have a wife who was so nice during labor. :) I didn't have back-to-back contractions until the very end. I labored in the bath tub for a while, which was awesome as well, and I continued to make good progress. One of my favorite moments during the last few hours of labor was when Dana said she wanted to pray with us. It was incredibly special as she prayed for me and for our little boy. She knew his name was Noah and prayed that he would be a man who found favor in the eyes of the Lord, just as Noah in the Bible did. That moment, just Dana, David, and I, is one that I will never forget. How special to have the woman who delivered our son, pray for him before he even came into this world. 

After that moment, things really progressed. I began to wonder when it would be over because I was having a harder time with each contraction. If I had been in the hospital, this is when I would have broken down and gotten the epidural. But it got even harder. When I was about 8-9 cm, Dana realized that Noah was more posterior than we realized. We needed him to come forward so that I would be able to deliver him without any forceps help. Dana had me doing lunges against the bathtub through each contraction. It was incredibly difficult. After that, she and Kim used a sheet to jostle my belly as I let it hang down. It was right after that that Kim felt something click in my back and when Dana listened to Noah's heartbeat again, he had come forward just like we needed him to. 

At this point, my water still hadn't broken but I was starting to feel like I could push. I pushed for about 15 minutes trying to help my water break and it wasn't. Dana asked if I wanted her to break the water for me to see if it would speed things up. I was ready to be done so of course I said yes! I got on the bed, she broke my water, and I began to push. It was excruciating, as I had not had any pain medication at all. And even though I had prepared myself for the pain, I hadn't prepared myself for the amount of work it was going to be, accompanied by the pain! But only a couple of minutes later, my sweet baby Noah was born, weighing 8 lbs 3 oz, and measuring 22 inches long. He was also born with his hand on his head, so my "ring of fire" was not just a head, but a head and an arm as well. Thank you Noah for the 10 stitches I received! 

At that moment I was so relieved. I held Noah on my chest while I delivered the placenta. Everything was wonderful. I was finally holding my little boy and the pain was over. However, I didn't realize that I was bleeding way more than I should have been. Dana gave me cytotec and pitocin to stop the bleeding and neither one worked. When she tried to find where the bleeding was coming from, she couldn't, so she made the decision to call 911 and transfer to the hospital. During this time, I felt fine, just so exhausted that I really didn't care what happened. I trusted her judgment. She called 911 and they took me to the hospital. David followed with his brother and Noah in the car. Noah's first car ride, an hour after being born!

By the time I was set up in the hospital, my bleeding had stopped. The medical staff didn't even really seem to know why I had come in. They didn't really believe Dana when she told them how much blood I had lost (she figure out that I had lost about 1 - 1.5 liters, which is a lot!). The doctor stitched me up, and three hours after I got there, I got to go home. God was taking care of me the whole time, and I had amazing peace about everything, even the bill we were going to receive (which God again took care of)! 

Dana did not tell me until the next day that right before she had called 911, she prayed that God would protect me and stop my bleeding. What a blessing it was to have a woman who believes in the power of prayer to heal with me during my birth. She believes that it was when she prayed that my bleeding began to slow and eventually stop because even the doctor couldn't figure out why I had bled so much or where it had come from. To this day, there is no explanation for why it happened or why it stopped. My situation was more serious than I realized, but God gave me peace, and he protected me. He is good. 

This story is so special to me. It is special because I had a successful, natural homebirth without any pain meds. I've never worked so hard or been through so much pain in my life, but I did it. And that was important to me. It is special because God gave me the desire of my heart and let me stay home with Dana, a woman who has become so special to me, to deliver my baby. It is special because as I pushed Noah into this world, worship music was playing in the background, and his family was praying for him downstairs. The presence of God was so sweet. It is special because even though it didn't all go as planned and I had to go to the hospital, it was perfect. God showed me his power and love and protection. If I am able and it is God's will, I will deliver my next baby at home as well. God gave me my birth story as a gift to me, to be part of my story. I never want to forget the night that Noah came into this world. 

And PS: I am not against hospitals, doctors, or epidurals. I just didn't want them for me. 

I'm gonna have a baby!!

The first chance I really had to just hold him and look at him since I transferred to the hospital after he was born.

During his newborn exam with Dana. He's so little!!

Dana, our midwife and friend. She continues to take amazing care of both of us. I'll be so sad when our care with her is over!

Our handsome little man at 10 days old

Our new little family!

You, be you. Let them be them.

"Wow! You guys move fast! We dated for a whole year before we were engaged!"

"You guys want to have kids in the next few years? We definitely want at least 5 years first so we have time just to ourselves."

"You guys have been dating for how long? When are you gonna pop the question?!"

Sound familiar? Maybe you haven't heard these exact statements, but if you think about it, you have probably heard something along these lines. You've been telling somebody about you and your significant other and they immediately react with a comparison to their relationship. Or they tell you how they would do it differently if they were in a relationship.

The other day while David and I were getting ready for bed, we started talking about this. A friend of mine had been talking about another couple we know and for some reason I just felt really uncomfortable with the conversation. It wasn't just because it was bordering on gossip. It was because I have a new understanding of some of the intricacies of relationships and I realized that it was really unfair to be talking negatively about how another couple was walking the road of their relationship. I became really uncomfortable because I don't want others to be judging the way David and I walk the road of our relationship.

I'm not writing this to chastise anybody or get upset with the world. Let's be honest. I'm just as guilty as the next person. But as I've been thinking about it lately I've realized something: Why can't we just be free to be our own couple?

David is a unique man. He lived part of his life in France and most of it in Colorado Springs. He has experienced living in Arkansas, Germany, and Ireland. He is a photographer and a server at a nice restaurant in town. He cares deeply about his family and friends and has strong moral convictions. He has been Napolean Dynamite on several occasions and insisted on getting my garter with his teeth {yes, I probably blushed.} There is nobody exactly like him.

I am a unique woman. I lived part of my life in Colorado Springs and most of it in Peru. I have experienced living in Californa, Costa Rica, and Ireland. I have worked in a sweat shop and I now help a girl with some physical disabilities. I am a youth ministry major and grew up in Charismatic churches. I love to serve people {at least, that's what David says} and I love my friends and family greatly. I'm a jungle girl and city girl at heart. I drove motorcycles at a young age and have held a couple different anacondas. There is nobody exactly like me.

So if we are two unique people, doesn't that mean that we are also our own unique couple? We will move at our own pace and make decisions in our own way. There is no other couple exactly like us. Of course, I'm not saying that we don't need shared wisdom from people. Actually, we soak it up. What I'm saying is that we don't need to compare our relationship to other people's relationships! And we have no right to judge the way others walk through their relationship. We get to be ourselves. And others need to be able to be themselves.

Comparison is such a big issue in our culture. Facebook and Instagram are a breeding ground for it. I'm not against being on Facebook and Instragram because I use them both frequently. But think about it. How often do you see somebody's post about their life and get a little bit jealous, frustrated, or annoyed because they have something you don't or are doing something in a different way than you might? I do whenever I see somebody on a lake, or in the mountains, or at the beach. And ladies, be honest. There are times when we see somebody's "perfect" selfie and get jealous because she looks so perfect. We compare and compare and compare. And its not healthy. One of my favorite professors says, "Comparison breeds discontentment." Isn't that true? I have days where I'm having a pretty good day and feeling pretty confident; then I see that beautiful girl surrounded by friends hanging out in the student center. And I start to compare. And I become discontent. {Actually, I see that young mom holding her tiny baby...and I begin to desperately want one}.

Comparison doesn't do anybody any good. It doesn't do me any good when I hear somebody compare my relationship to theirs. It makes me feel like we are doing something wrong. And it doesn't do me any good when I compare somebody else's relationship to mine. They aren't me and David. They don't have to be us.

And it's not just people in relationships that make judgement comparisons. I remember what I was like before I was in a relationship. I would frequently make comments to other friends about couples I knew and about what I would do differently. I talked like I knew what their relationship should be better than they did. But I didn't. And I really don't have the right to judge the way that they walk through their relationship. There is no handbook for relationships. They are hard and they take work. People have to be able to walk the journey together in the way that really works for them as a couple.

And I'm not saying that don't think we should ever challenge our friends to walk "the straight and narrow." I hope if I ever have a close friend who is in an unhealthy relationship that is clearly not honoring God, that I will have the courage to come forward and in love speak truth. However, that isn't what I am talking about here. I'm talking about those "non-essentials" like when to meet the family. And when to first kiss. And how much time to spend together at different levels of seriousness. And when to get engaged. And how long of an engagement to have. And when to have kids. All those things that we have opinions on. That don't really need to be shared unless they are asked for by the couple.

People are all unique. So are couples. So I'm learning to just allow people to be in their relationship without feeling like they are being analyzed. Just because they dated longer before becoming engaged doesn't mean there is anything wrong with them. And just because we want kids sooner than another couple doesn't mean there is anything wrong with us. We are us. And we can be so confidently.

So be your own person and be your own couple! Let God direct you as He will. Don't compare other relationships to your own. And let your friends relationships be theirs as well. I never want to make people feel like they are doing something wrong simply because I make a point of saying how differently I would do it. Can we all just be free to be ourselves?