Tag: Motherhood

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Guest Posting “My Story”

This week I was asked to guest post (a new thing for me!) in honor of National Infertility Awareness Week, and it was a real joy and honor to spend a couple of hours writing my story out for this purpose. It is always beautiful when I feel like God is just giving me specific words to say and a particular message to share with His people, especially those who are suffering. May the Lord be praised, and may His people be encouraged by what I can share of the story He has written for my family.

Snippets and teasers until you pop over here to read my story yourself:

One of the big things about “infertility awareness” is the whole idea that we aren’t all completely aware of what infertility is. We may not know how to define it. We may not understand what it’s like. We may have no real idea who is affected by it. And that’s one of the interesting things about my story, my angle on infertility—at first glance, you may well not think of my story as one of infertility. And that’s why my story, and others like mine, are told, especially during times like National Infertility Awareness Week—to help open eyes, advance knowledge and understanding, to nurture fellowship and empathy amongst women who so often suffer in misunderstood silence.

This is my story, that God wrote for me before I was created in secret (Psalm 139:15-16)—the story that He reveals to me chapter by chapter, that I live out before Him by faith, that I don’t completely understand but that I embrace because I know He is good. I recognize that my life, my joys and my suffering, is for the purpose of glorifying Him (1 Peter 4:12-13, 5:10).
~~~

All of a sudden a new chapter of the story of my life was unfolding. It was unlovely and unfamiliar. It felt cold and harsh. Its very essence was isolating and debilitating. I cried myself to sleep so many nights, and found it hard to drag myself out of bed in the mornings. I had a living son—my womb had managed to produce life before! And, thus far, it had never taken more than two cycles of trying to conceive before the Lord filled my womb. How could infertility become part of my reality?
~~~

Whether we are facing another chapter—or perhaps simply an interlude—of uRPL in our family or not, we have realized that we just don’t know what the chapters in our story are going to look like; we can’t predict their endings; we may not always understand the storyline as we’re going through it (and maybe not even when looking back). But infertility will always be part of our story, as God has used it to shape us and use us in ways we would not have otherwise been used in His Kingdom.

If you look at my family picture, you probably would not automatically think, “I wonder if that family has ever struggled with infertility?”—which is just another reminder for us in the midst of National Infertility Awareness Week that we really are unaware of so much about infertility, its effects, its forms, its reach. My arms are both full and empty. I have children on earth, but more children who reside in the glories of heaven. I know the miracle of getting BFPs (that’s infertility-speak for “big fat positive” which is code for a positive pregnancy test), but I also know the depth of anguish that comes from my naïveté being stolen and understanding that being pregnant does not necessarily mean I am having a baby.
~~~

And that is one of the reasons why I feel God calls me to speak out about it, to share in others’ similar journeys, to offer words of encouragement and empathy on this path, so that others can share in the comfort of Christ (2 Corinthians 1:4) which He has offered to me through these locust-eaten years (Jonah 2:25) as well, even as He continues to reveal my own story to me little by little.

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“Singing” today

God’s timing is always amazing, isn’t it? This morning after spending some time in prayer, I was feeling like singing… but felt conflicted, not knowing what kind of song my heart and lips needed to pour out at God’s feet. I felt hope and joy colliding with doubt and fear. And then I remembered that something I wrote was being published on a blog today, titled “Singing.”

I wrote, “I often sing through my tears and in my confusion. This is one of the reasons that I have been drawn to the songbook of the Scriptures—the Psalms. The psalmist David encompasses such a vast variety of human experiences and emotions in his songs, and I cling to that example with thankfulness and relief,” and today the Lord used my own words to speak to myself and remind me to sing.

So I sang with the man after God’s own heart, I sang of His law, of my love for Him, of my trust in Him, of my fears of stumbling blocks around me. I sing because I can, because I need to, because I want to, because He commands me to, because He loves me to.

Psalm 119:165-176

Great peace have those who love your law;
nothing can make them stumble.
I hope for your salvation, O Lord,
and I do your commandments.
My soul keeps your testimonies;
I love them exceedingly.
I keep your precepts and testimonies,
for all my ways are before you.

Let my cry come before you, O Lord;
give me understanding according to your word!
Let my plea come before you;
deliver me according to your word.
My lips will pour forth praise,
    for you teach me your statutes.
My tongue will sing of your word,
    for all your commandments are right.
Let your hand be ready to help me,
for I have chosen your precepts.
I long for your salvation, O Lord,
and your law is my delight.
Let my soul live and praise you,
    and let your rules help me.
I have gone astray like a lost sheep; seek your servant,
for I do not forget your commandments.

Please take a few minutes and visit Expecting With Hope, which is a subdivision of Mommies With Hope, a ministry where I am a contributing writer online, and sing along with me because “even when we are speechless, the Lord gives us His book of psalms to bring us back to singing.”

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Easter Outfits

As I was just getting Easter outfits set out and prepared for this upcoming weekend, I was remembering back to just a handful of years ago when I was anticipating Easter. I remember how painful it was to pick out clothes for Gabriel ~ and nobody else. How he was my only one to dress up. He wasn’t a stairstep kid. He didn’t have siblings on earth. I couldn’t put bows on his sisters’ hair, because I can’t reach all the way up to heaven. I didn’t get to pick out matchy-matchy stuff for brothers, or even think about finding coordinating things. Sometimes he got to coordinate with his cousins (thanks to Grandmama’s excessively good taste and love of filling out the grandkids’ wardrobes), but sometimes that was more painful than fun for me.

Easter of 2011, I was raging with pregnancy hormones and new drugs, painfully aware that the baby in my womb may not survive to the next Easter. Going to church on Easter to celebrate resurrection almost made me feel like a fraud. I was stuck in death and waiting… it didn’t feel real to celebrate new life and resurrection. I went through the motions, but it felt fake. Forced. Habitual. I saw families at church with coordinated outfits. I saw little girls everywhere with bows and hats and patent shoes and purses and flowers and plastic bead necklaces.

I remember feeling like I was surrounded only by shattered dreams. And I remember that depth of anguish.
I simply can’t forget.

But here I am, just a few years later. And oh God, how merciful You are to me, a sinner… You saw fit to come down and lift my downtrodden state… You gave me stairsteps, and You even gave me a daughter. Oh God! I cry at the thought! Why would You do such merciful things for me?!

So today I cried as I laid out two little plaid shirts, grey pants, white bow ties and suspenders… and a poofy flowery dress, patent shoes, tiny tights, a big white bow… and my own THREE miracles, my little darlings I dreamed of but nearly despaired of ever holding in my arms… they will sit in the Easter service singing and praying and eating candy and shouting “He is risen, indeed!” in their matchy-matchy outfits, nearly stairstepped in size (Gabriel is like the landing on a set of stairs, haha).

And this mercy is not lost on me.

Nor is the pain that my joy could be causing someone else.

So I will pray for infertile women, suffering mothers, bereaved mamas, single women. I will pray for hurting hearts that will throb and bleed when they see my own little brood of Resurrection-Life children. They may not know what a miracle it is that I have been given this gift… but I know.
I simply can’t forget.

And so on Easter morning, I will look again at these miraculous children… these gifts of life that followed so much death and so much waiting… so much sitting-at-Christ’s-feet… so much crying to God why-have-You-forsaken-me… and I will feel mercifully, undeservedly, bountifully blessed. And I will shout with tears in my eyes as I think of all eleven of my beautiful children, “CHRIST IS RISEN!!! ALLELUIA!!!”

Christ came. He conquered. He lived. He died. He rose again. He gives us hope.
Hope even for a woman who is raging with hormones, dealing with awful drug side effects, grieving for a daughter I don’t get to hold again… hope that resurrection has happened, and it will happen again.

That’s what packing Easter outfits did to me today. It reminds me of broken dreams, and of dreams come true.
Death inevitably follows life, but for those of us in Christ, life follows death. Hosanna! Alleluia!

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The Fleeting Moments

Sometimes it is the fleeting moments that are the hardest for me to enter into with my children (aren’t they ALL fleeting though?) ~ specifically things like reading books or imaginative play. Somehow I have always found it easier to incorporate my children into my world than it is for me to enter into their world. It’s difficult to remember that reading The Bobbsey Twins may be even more important than cooking dinner; playing “hide & tickle” may have more eternal effects than having freshly ironed shirts & folded socks; going on hikes in the woods may teach more important lessons than accomplishing page after page in certain textbooks. These fleeting moments of wide-eyed wonder and full-on joy are not always easy for me to grasp, they slip right through my fingers while I sit here saying “just one more minute” ~ especially as I look up and see that suddenly an hour has passed. An hour of my children’s lives that I will never get back.

I don’t want to miss out on reading those books, feeding those imaginations, tickling those round bellies, chasing those rippling strong legs, holding those tightly gripping hands, answering those never-ending questions.

My mom and my grandma are constantly reminding me of this quintessential poem (which applies to every child, not just the fifth, of course).

Song for a Fifth Child

    by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton

Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing and butter the bread,
Sew on a button and make up a bed.
Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

Oh, I’ve grown shiftless as Little Boy Blue
(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
(Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo).
The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew
And out in the yard there’s a hullabaloo
But I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo.
Look! Aren’t her eyes the most wonderful hue?
(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).

The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
For children grow up, as I’ve learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.
I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.

So what are some of the ways that I have learned (and am continuing to learn…) to better embrace these fleeting moments with my children??

Going to the library.
It really helps to have new materials to keep minds engaged (especially Mommy’s…), to spur new conversations and new questions, so I try to keep our library bag constantly filled but also continually changing. Storytime at the library (I go to the preschool geared storytime, as it is sort of a happy medium for the age range of my kids currently) gives me an hour each week to simply sit with my kids and let someone else do the reading, and it inspires me in my own reading with my kids too.
After being at the library, we often have a good excuse to stop for french fries or milkshakes, errands at a grocery store where they have fun little cars attached to the carts, or a romp at a park. It is good to be faced with out-and-about things once a week. 🙂

Getting chores done consistently.
When I am consistently staying on top of dishes, laundry, cleaning, and other such piddly things that are basic necessities of being a housewife and homemaker, it is easier to be willingly interrupted. Doing the dishes takes less than ten minutes after each meal, but if I don’t stay on top of it, it can wind up being an hour if the sink is piled-high (same principle applies to other areas of my home work). Staying on top of my chores, and involving the children in it whenever I can, is a wonderful way to stay more consistently available to embrace fleeting moments with the little ones.

Being a homebody.
Being at home the majority of the time, not always on the run, gives me many more opportunities to slow down and embrace the kids and their lives.

Saying YES to my children.
When someone asks me to come play, to please read books, to sing songs, to go outside, to pull out board games or dance around being silly… saying yes is the best thing I can do. I don’t always do it… in fact, only about half as often as I would like to… but God is giving me grace and helping me grow this skill. With each year that flies by, I feel like I improve on saying yes to my children. May God grant me continued and deepened grace so that YES is my most frequent answer when these fleeting moments show up on my lap!

Embracing the day, or even rather, the hour.
Looking at the big picture is often overwhelming, even saddening. Embracing little moments as they come is not only more joyful for me but more profitable in the big scheme of things. It’s sunny? Okay, let’s go plant flowers and go on a walk right now ~ sweeping and ironing and changing bedsheets can wait for another hour. It’s rainy? Okay, let’s build blanket forts and eat snacks by dim flashlights while listening to books on tape ~ we can always have leftovers or nachos for dinner if I don’t get around to making a well-balanced freshly cooked meal because I’m took busy embracing little moments with my children!

Remembering Ecclesiastes.
It’s all fleeting. The housework, the yardwork, the correspondence, the educations, the playtime, the bellies that need fed, the diapers that need changed, the lives that are being lived. But that doesn’t mean we aren’t supposed to embrace it all and do it with gracious, God-given gusto. That’s exactly what Solomon in his wisdom suggests. Life IS fleeting. But LIFE is exactly what we are supposed to do. I need to remember this as I work, live, and play with my children. It may be fleeting, but it is wise to blow with the wind when I know I can not embrace it and keep it as it is.

Looking back.
Nothing gives me perspective on the rate of my babies’ lives than looking back at photo albums. How quickly they change! How fast I forget! How little a time I get to have them with me in the daily grind! Remembering and reminiscing is a huge reminder to me that embracing the moment is key in my calling.

Looking forward.
Hope for the future, confidence for what lies ahead, joy for what God is working out & working in ~ this takes faith in Him and His sovereignty. What really matters? Yes, they need clean undies and beds with sheets tucked in; they need to learn how to read and how to perform arithmetic; they need nourishing meals and bubbly baths; they need naps and bedtimes… but the way these necessary things are communicated to them is even more important. The children need hugged, tickled, read to, played with, laughed over, tousled. My children need to know that I love what matters to them, what goes on in their heads; that what bothers them, bothers me; that I’m in their corner; that my life is for theirs; that being their mommy is more than simply having given them life and sustaining that physical life ~ that being their mommy is in the big things, the little things, the necessary things, the icing-on-the-cake things, the physical and spiritual and emotional things.

So this is my prayer, my hope, my desire.
That I would be the kind of mommy God wants me to be, so that He is molding me into the kind of Grandmommy He wants me to be, so that I can best be a honed tool for the Kingdom work that He wants me to do. Life is fleeting ~ my life and their lives ~ and I want to be diligent, obedient, joyful, and embracing in the midst of the mist that is the gift of life.

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What Was, Would’ve Been, Is, and Will Be

I am seeing God’s kindness and mercy in so many details of life right now. But things are still hard, nonetheless. It has been 9 1/2 weeks since I held Heritage in my hands: ten weeks yesterday since we found out she died. Gabriel continues to talk about her, and it is really beautiful to listen to him regarding his baby sister, and he asks us to try explaining what God has done, and what we’re praying He will do next.

I am remembering my tiny baby girl and what she looked like both on the ultrasound screen and as she laid so peacefully in my hands, thinking about what it would have felt like to feel her kicking and hiccuping from inside my womb, and wondering if she will have the chance to be a big sister sometime in the future…

And I miss her all over again. What was. And what would’ve been.
Meanwhile trusting that God knows, and controls, every single what is & what will be in our future. :pray:

Isaiah 45:7
I form the light and create darkness,
I make peace and create calamity;
I, the Lord, do all these things.

Jeremiah 29:11
For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord,
thoughts of peace and not of evil,
to give you a future and a hope.

Psalm 115:3
But our God is in heaven;
He does whatever He pleases.

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Listening

It is beautiful, and sometimes bittersweet, to listen to the conversations held by a 5-year-old.
I love listening to him talk to his brother and sister, sometimes instructing, sometimes encouraging, sometimes telling stories.
And I love listening to him talk about his other brothers and sisters too.

Lately, he has not shied away from talking about Heritage Peniel. Today, in fact, he told his cousins about his baby sister, her name, and told them confidently about how the baby’s body died but how her spirit (he worded it like, “her new heart”) is alive in heaven. It wasn’t a very short conversation. He likes to talk about her. And I love to hear about her.

It is bittersweet music to this mommy’s ears.

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What is “His best”?

I have an honest confession that I need to make, but it is very difficult to make this confession publicly. I feel like I should be stronger than I am, or at least more joyful even if weak. But the true confession is that I am really struggling to cope and function on the most basic levels, and not give in to overwhelming anxiety. I am now pretty much past all seven of my past miscarriage marker dates (with the exception of one that was a missed miscarriage, and while it took my body a while to actually miscarry, her development had stopped by now)… but because the problems we are facing this time are totally unrelated to my immunological problems that caused all seven of my previous miscarriages, I feel like I am in frightening territory that is completely new, unfamiliar, unknown… and it is so terrifying.

My plethora of medications, thanks be to God, are once again controlling my immunological problems and protecting this baby, allowing my body to nurture him/her! I am SO grateful for that. It makes every pill, every injection, every past hiccup and mountain totally worthwhile. Praise to God alone for providing these things!!

But that does not help with the problem this baby is facing: that of seeming to be outgrowing the gestational sac. I had never even heard of that before, and now I’m too afraid to “research” it online because knowing the level of risk just wouldn’t really help my coping right now.
I’m trying to take it easy, as limited activity was suggested as “it couldn’t hurt and might help.”
I’m also drinking at least a gallon of water a day, again suggested along similar lines; I guess thinking that if my body is super hydrated, maybe the baby would get more amniotic fluid and maybe the sac would grow better…?

It is such a helpless feeling, especially as a mother: to know that I am doing everything I can, yet still feeling like there is absolutely nothing I can do.

One thing is for sure: I do NOT know how anyone could cope with such situations without resting in Christ and His sovereignty.

So we are thankful that we are His. We are thankful that this baby is His, and only lent to us. We are thankful that we know with certainty that Little ‘Leven’s days are already numbered, and that the Creator of all things and Sustainer of all creation is the One who not only created but sustains this darling baby.

I definitely find myself living and breathing that C.S. Lewis quote,

“We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us;
we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be.”

May God sustain us, and may He grant me the ability to cope little by little because of His great grace, so that I can follow Him with faith and continue doing what He has called me to do as the mother of this beloved child.

This morning as I read a daily devotional snippet by Nancy Guthrie, the Lord spoke to me right where I need a continual reminder today, and I am so thankful that even little things like this can be exhorting even while I sit here trembling, crying, wondering what the future holds:

Joshua 1:9
This is my command ~ be strong and courageous!
Do not be afraid or discouraged.
For the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.

Walking through life with Me does not mean that there is never any struggle, or that you will never face opposition or difficulty. It means that you can encounter whatever comes without being crippled by fear or depleted by discouragement. Instead, you can know a strength and courage that comes from your settled confidence that I am with you. I am out in front of you, leading you into the abundant life I have promised to give you. I am beside you, speaking words of encouragement and instruction, pointing out potential dangers. I am in you, filling you with My power and conforming you into the image of My dear Son. When I tell you I am with you, I do not mean I am present in a general sense, but in a personal sense. You have My attention and affection. Wherever you go, you can reach out and find Me right beside you.

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Our kids with us

“Godly parenting is a function of becoming more like Jesus in the presence of little ones,
who are also in the process of becoming more like Jesus.”
~Pastor Douglas Wilson, here

“One way you might think of parenting is like the disciple Andrew who first heard the call
to “come and see” Jesus (Jn. 1:39),
who then found his brother Simon and told him,
“We have found the Messiah” (Jn. 1:41).
Our task as parents is to be constantly inviting our kids to come with us,
to “come and see” Jesus, the Messiah, the Holy One of Israel, our Redeemer.”
~Pastor Toby Sumpter, here

Today as each of my four living olive plants require different things of me, I am seeking to hold their hands (well, three sets of hands… one of them is hidden in the womb, whose hands I do not want to reach for another seven months!) and walk together in the path of righteousness.

May God grant me the grace and wisdom to do this with patience and delighted joy!!

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We continue to call on God

For today, the Lord has mercifully granted us the gift of continued life ~ glory be to Him!

And so, while the worries are not dissipated completely for the future (our doctor still seemed very concerned), we are praising the Lord for our growing baby and the strong heartbeat we got to see again today. Thanks be to God! We are also given the gift of continuing to call on God, and beseech from Him the gift of more LIFE. Please pray with us for our beautiful little baby, that God would hear our prayers, along the lines of Jabez:

1 Chronicles 4:10
“Oh, that You would bless me indeed,
and enlarge my territory,
that Your hand would be with me,
and that You would keep me from evil,
that I may not cause pain!”

May we, as the weeks go on, be privileged to proclaim as Jabez did that “God granted him what he requested.” Amen. Please come before the Father of all mercies and Author of all life with us, to plead with Him for the life of our child! Thank you for sitting with us as we await our good Lord’s pleasure in the days and weeks to come.

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Helpless but not Hopeless

Last week one of my doctors seemed all but despairing over our Little ‘Leven’s precious life.
In two hours, we go back to see what the Lord is doing, knowing that we have no control over the life of our baby.

It feels helpless. I have been floundering back and forth between despair and hope these last five days.
So while I feel helpless and like I’m about to walk myself to the guillotine, I need to not give in to hopelessness.
I need to rely on my faithful God who has lead us through darkness before, has saved us from dire straits in the past, has shown His power in so many ways to us through the years (and particularly in similar situations to this, where lives of our children have been in the scales).
We have seen Him preserve a child we thought unpreservable. But, yes, we have also seen Him take our children into His bosom when we were unaware.

He does all things well. He is not only God of all help, but God of all hope.
I do trust in Him. But sometimes trust looks like closing my eyes, gritting my teeth, clenching my fists, and jumping off a cliff ~ not knowing what will come of the dive.
So as I prepare to trust Him for the cliff-dive that I’m about to take as I step into a doctor’s office again this morning, I seek to meditate not with helplessness or hopelessness, but hoping in Christ alone, on the following verses.

Job11:18
You will be secure, because there is hope;
you will look about you and take your rest in safety.

Psalm 25:2-6
In you I trust, O my God. Do not let me be put to shame, nor let my enemies triumph over me. No one whose hope is in you will ever be put to shame, but they will be put to shame who are treacherous without excuse. Show me your ways, O LORD, teach me your paths; guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long. Remember, O LORD, your great mercy and love, for they are from of old.

Psalm 39:7
But now, Lord, what do I look for? My hope is in you.

Psalm 42:11
Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.

Psalm 62:5
Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him.

Psalm 65:5
You answer us with awesome deeds of righteousness, O God our Savior, the hope of all the ends of the earth and of the farthest seas,

Psalm 119:116
Sustain me according to your promise, and I will live; do not let my hopes be dashed.

Isaiah 40:30-31
Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.

Lamentations 3:21-22 
Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail.

 

Please pray with us for the merciful gift of LIFE for this dearly beloved child.