Jeremiah 29:11

Jeremiah 29:11

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

My Testimony

For months I have felt it on my heart to share my testimony. I was stuck wondering when and in what way would be best to do so. I have waited for a big opportunity to arise. Suddenly, God made something very apparent. Every single day is a big opportunity to share my testimony. What is a social network or a blog if it isn't a place to share something of utmost importance?

God provided me with the opportunity to speak with and help more women in the past couple of months than I could have imagined. He made our paths cross and opened opportunities for conversation. In our journey to have our son, I chose to be very open about our experiences. I stated that if I could help one woman, that would make it worthwhile.

Little did I know how God was using my heartache and that one day I would find myself thanking Him for that very struggle. I know, it's easy for me to say now, now that I have a child... But what if I told you that I learned how to be grateful for my infertility before my sweet angel was conceived? What if I told you how God used this to teach me how to be grateful and have peace in all circumstances? That's exactly what I'm going to do.

I grew up in a wonderful loving home. I honestly never struggled much with anything other than petty first world problems during my childhood or teenage years. When I was 18 years old, I got the news and it hit me like a sack of bricks. I had always had what seemed to be hormonal issues, but never thought I would have difficulty becoming a mother. After all, being a mom was my life's goal. "Real life" began right then and there in that doctors office. I became consumed with learning all I could about pregnancy and conception. Yes, I was young but when I found out I may not be able to have a child my life and priorities changed.

I had never struggled with anything to this extent before. Anything in the past I had wanted, I could achieve if I put in enough effort. This was out of my control and in God's hands alone. It wasn't long after that I became very bitter. I didn't know how to handle disappointment. I hadn't ever had to rely on my faith and God alone before. What had I done to deserve this? Why me? I had never given it all to God before. Bitterness ate away at the core of my being for years. I was bitter toward God, bitter with my fiancé for not being bitter, bitter toward anybody who was pregnant, bitter toward anyone who made any wrong comment, walked the wrong way, talked the wrong way or looked at me the wrong way. I was angry.

I distinctly remember a wonderful lady who shall remain nameless telling me that one day I would find "peace" regardless of whether or not I became a mother. I could not fathom that thought. I was too consumed with bitterness to allow myself to ponder the idea of peace. Instead, I responded with negativity trying to get her to join in with me on complaints so many of us infertiles have. She did not. This conversation was the beginning of a turning point in my life.

My sister became pregnant with my nephew after struggling herself. I was so thrilled at the idea of becoming an aunt, but so heartbroken of the thought that I still was not a mother. I was also so lost as to why MY battle was continuing on. This was the first time I consciously made the decision to not be bitter. I prayed that God would help my attitude. I couldn't handle the mere thought of looking at my sister and nephew as he grew and not having a relationship with him. I chose to be grateful and loving as I was consumed with self-pity.

This was another turning point in my life. I learned that I had control over my emotions. I found that through prayer God would ease my pain.

Shortly thereafter, I finally conceived via our second IVF only to end up miscarrying. There was nowhere for me to fall but into God's arms. I collapsed on my bathroom floor and cried out to Him. I admitted my anger and prayed that he would help me see things from a new perspective. I begged that if He would not change His plans that He would change my plans. I prayed for the peace that I couldn't comprehend in that moment. Then I got up.

When I picked myself up off that floor I realized something. It wasn't about me. All this time all I cared about was my desires. I was making motherhood my idol. So many people told me I deserved to be a mom more than anyone they knew. I realized that was a lie. None of us deserve to be mothers. Sure, by worldly standards, yes I deserved to be a mom. By God's standards I would never stack up. Thank God for his grace.

I continued praying and growing. When the reality of a biological child seemed to be fading, I prayed more. I prayed that if God had other plans for my life that He would continue to grant me peace and acceptance of His plan. I cannot explain the miracles that He performed within my soul, but slowly and surely I was transforming. After our third IVF failed, I knew it was time to step out in faith.

I felt it so heavy on my heart to pursue adoption. I prayed that God would open my husband's heart and lead us on the right path. Although this wasn't the route I originally thought I would take to have my first child, I was excited and very open to the plan God had laid out for us.

I knew if all 3 of my IVF cycles didn't work, my frozen embryo transfer wouldn't either. In the very beginning, I knew the only way I was comfortable with proceeding with IVF is if all of our embryos received a chance to live. So even though I knew the odds were against us and these final 2 frozen embryos wouldn't make it since even the fresh embryos from the same cycle didn't result in pregnancy, I proceeded anyway with adoption in the forefront of my heart and mind.

We drove to Dallas for our final embryo transfer. The very next morning was our adoption orientation in Houston. Everything went so well and we were certain that the Lord put us on the right path toward adoption. God answered all of my prayers, all I had to do was open my heart to His plan. My heart was so full with the thought of adopting a miracle baby in what would most likely be less than a years time.

Three days later I found out I was pregnant...................

Speechless. Praise God! Because of my experience, I learned how to trust The Lord wholeheartedly and undoubtedly. I feel set apart and blessed in such a unique way that I feel many people could never comprehend. It is my hope and prayer that I can share this blessing with as many people as possible. God used my infertility in the most amazing way. Since then, I have been faced with many challenges, none of which I have questioned Him. I know He is working things out in His time and for His greater plan. I don't have to understand it, I don't even want to understand it. I just want to sit back and continue to be amazed at the work He does. Because of my infertility, I am a better Mom. My son gets a mom that is so strong in her faith that nothing can shatter us. My son gets a Mom that is thankful for every second she gets with him. My son benefitted from my struggles in having him. I benefitted from my struggles in having him. Everyone I come into contact with benefits from my infertility whether they know it or not. I am a better person. I feel His love pouring out of my soul. I want to touch as many people as I can. I am burning to share His love, His true, unexplainable love and grace. His forgiveness for all. His acceptance. He is so misunderstood. God is good, ALL the time. I am so blessed to understand the meaning of that phrase.





Monday, April 15, 2013

My Cup Runneth Over

Today is a special day because one year ago, on April 15, 2012, we found out that we were expecting. I was 3 weeks, 2 days pregnant. I have been debating for a while whether or not to write a follow-up post on this blog. Although I know it can be hard to read about pregnancy and birth, I decided to proceed in order for my devout followers that I do not know personally to read how my story unfolds. Even some of you who do know me personally, don't know the full story. If you are sensitive to this kind of post at this time, please bypass this and continue downward to previous posts to discover how I overcame my struggles with infertility.

My pregnancy was beautiful and perfect. And by that, I don't mean that I didn't go through the typical discomforts or experience the things so many complain about. What I mean is, I know what it's like to wish to be pregnant more than I wish to live on another day. I didn't spend my mornings I was hugging the toilet complaining or feeling sorry for myself, I spent them joyful (probably mentally more than physically) and thanking God that I had such a wonderful reason to be sick. I had morning sickness until I was over 20 weeks pregnant. As a matter of fact, I had just about every symptom in the book all the way up until the end.
(34 weeks 1 day)

At 16 weeks, we found out we would have a son. My 20 week ultrasound revealed that my son had what they call an "echogenic foci." This can be an indicator of Down's Syndrome. We were scheduled for another ultrasound at 24 weeks to recheck it and were assured it would most likely be gone and no big deal, but it wasn't. At that point we were sent to a perinatologist to keep an eye on it. My last ultrasound was at 32 weeks. At that point the foci was still on Grayson's heart. We chose not to share this information. I had faith in God that if he gave me a child with Down's, then my life would be better for it. Infertility shaped me, it made me more faithful and more positive (over a great deal of time.) I couldn't bare the thought that people might actually have pity on us for possibly having a special needs child. This was my beautiful son that I had longed for years. I was nothing but thankful that I was finally pregnant, no matter how many chromosomes he had or the challenges we might face.


November 23, 2012 - I woke up not feeling quite right. It was "Black Friday," so doctor's offices were closed. My best friend, Christin, went with me to a clinic to get checked out. Being 35 weeks pregnant and developing an illness of any sort didn't sound good. When they checked my blood pressure, it sounded high to me, but they didn't seem concerned. They sent me out the door with a prescription for nasal spray and allergy medicine. I went straight to CVS, not to fill my script, but to check my blood pressure again. At this point it was 167/119. I knew I needed to get to the hospital immediately. Christin then took over and drove me home to pick up Jason. Meanwhile, I called the doctor on call. We were already on our way to the hospital when Dr. Brazell told us to get there immediately.
(Trying to stay germ free at the clinic)
Upon arrival, they did a lot of tests and it was evident within the hour that I was suffering from pre-eclampsia and was also contracting (I didn't feel them). I had the symptoms of pre-eclampsia (remember that head cold?), but I failed to put it all together until I saw my blood pressure so high. My blood pressure had been excellent my entire pregnancy, and I had just been checked the previous week, so I had no reason to be concerned. My sister, Ashlee, then predicted exactly what would happen next. Shortly after, in came the nurse to confirm what we all suspected.
The next several days came as a complete whirlwind. They threw me into a wheelchair and rushed me down to labor and delivery where I was put on a magnesium sulfate drip (terrible side effects). My doctor was having Thanksgiving with family, so couldn't make it up to the hospital. The doctor on call decided within 5 minutes that I needed to be induced that evening.
At 6:00pm I was given Cytotec followed by another Cytotec at 10:00pm. At 2:00am, they began my Pitocin drip. My contractions came on long and hard. They had to try my epidural 3 different times because every time I would sit up my blood pressure would bottom out and I would lose consciousness. By this time, it was chaotic and everybody was suiting up and wheeling my bed out the door for an emergency-section. My blood pressure was dropping too low and Grayson's heart rate was also dropping too low with each contraction. Finally, they had me lay on my side and the third epidural was placed. Right then, my water broke. There was no time to hook up the medication to my epidural. I felt very intense pressure and told them to hold off on the c-section if they could. When they checked me the first time, I was dilated to a 2. They agreed that we could wait a little longer to see what happened because after my water broke Grayson and I both stabilized. Only 27 minutes later, I was at a 10 and pushing. I pushed for 45 minutes and into the world was born my beautiful, perfect, 5 pound 2 ounce, 18 inch long, God-sent miracle baby.
They rushed him off to check him out because he was 5 weeks premature. They said I started screaming "don't take my baby, bring me my baby," but I have no memory of that because the magnesium drip had me so foggy. I don't doubt that I did. I had waited my entire life for that moment. After a few minutes (which seemed like centuries) they brought him over and laid him in my arms. I think I was in shock. All I could do was hold him so close rubbing and kissing on his fresh little moist face.
(The first time I met the love of my life)

A few short minutes later, they took my son from my arms and took him to the NICU. I was then told I would not be able to see him again until the very next morning at 8 am. This was due to not being able to leave bed because of the magnesium. It was such a long day, I slept most of it away. That evening, my nurse from the night before agreed to let me go in and see him. I was determined to get out of bed, and she had witnessed what I could accomplish out of determination the previous night. I was able to go in and see him for a short while. I was too weak to hold my head up, so I simply laid it down next to his tiny body and held his hand. All too soon, I was whisked back to my hospital room. The next morning, I was taken off of the magnesium drip and was able to spend most of the day in the NICU beside my son where I belonged.
(My first time to see him in the NICU)
I was sent home the next day. The most confusing thing was having to leave my baby there. You should not have to leave your baby at the hospital. At the same time, my dream was here and thriving. I was an emotional mess of gratefulness and elation as well as sad that my newborn could not come home with me. I spent every second that I could at the hospital with him, only leaving to grab a change of clothes and a quick snack. He stayed in the NICU for a total of 8 days and that was more than enough for me.
(First day home)
This entire experience made me a better person and a better mother. Grayson gets a stronger, more optimistic, more faithful and an all around better mom because of how I struggled. I cannot look back on what I went through in trying to conceive him and feel sorrow, because I would not be who I am today if not for that experience. As this 4 and a half month old angel lays on my chest sleeping right now, I am overjoyed. My cup runneth over.
(Four months old)