The day I told you

08/26/2015

Can I be a pessimistic, whiny jerk???

I am so anxious about posting my writing. I feel like God has taught me so much through our baby and if just one person feels what I have felt or anything akin to it and can find a tiny bit of solace in not being alone... or if one person is able to reach into someone else’s darkness then I have to post it. Not like God needs little ole me to help bring Him glory… He’s got this. However, I would like to be like Jesus and love like Jesus. If that means sharing the worst days of my life, I want to do it.

What’s stopping me? The same thing that has stopped me the whole time. Likely what stops many from talking about it. The pain. I want to stay in my bubble and keep trying to cover my wounds with my hands and keep it together... But that won't fix it. No one can fix it. That's kind of the point.

Then there's fear that people are going to say some stupid stuff.

I completely recognize how selfish that is. I’m owning it. I get it.

As a human, we constantly feel the need to make people feel better. People try to make you feel better by saying things like,

 “It will happen.” 

“ I’m sure you are going to get pregnant again.”

“You are going to be a great parent.”

“It gets better.”

“When the time is right.”

“It is probably better this way.”

All of which disregards what is actually making me sad, the loss of a life.

I pray for the courage to be bold. I pray to be gracious; to see the good intentions of others. I pray for God to guard my raw heart. I pray that He would do something with this dark time in our life, and work through it for His good. As He has promised.

I need only have faith.

_______________

I have had the pleasure of speaking with many moms to babies in heaven, of praying for them and receiving their prayers. He has given me such a deeper understanding of His promises. Every time someone has called this journey beautiful, God has quietly reassured me. 

I still get nervous pressing the post button, sometimes I fight it, and anxiety and circumstances tell me that there is no point, that it doesn't make a difference. But it has to me, you have made a difference to me. 

Thank God.  

Pro NO Choice

08/21/2015

Any talk about Planned Parenthood or abortions makes me very uneasy.

I hear the words or the gruesome language people use to describe it and I wince. I cringe away.

It stirs such strong emotions in me. It makes me want to crawl in a hole.

That happened to my baby.

My husband responded to these feelings with “I’m sorry that happened to our baby, but our baby was already with Jesus on that Thursday morning and we will know why when we meet her.”

Our baby didn’t have a heart beat. Our baby was not alive.

I would have done anything to change God’s plan, to hear a heartbeat that day. But it was not my choice.

God loves us so much. He gave us the power to choose from the very beginning in the Garden of Eden; knowing Eve would eat the apple, knowing we would not choose Him. Despite His love for us and desire to be with us, He let us choose.

And we have been choosing wrong ever since.

We choose knowledge. We choose power and pride.  We choose money. We choose murder.

We look around at the death and destruction in the world with our mouths agape and aghast at what surrounds us…Why the hell that surprises us is a mystery to me.

Our very core is evil. We provide for the poor and look around to see who is looking. We decorate our houses to hear how great we are. We lie without hesitation to make ourselves look or feel better. We would “follow our hearts” into a burning pit of fire if it promised to make us happy…. Which is exactly what we are doing.  

The only thing that redeems us is Jesus. The death of a perfect man for our sin and His resurrection.

We do not see the extent of our sin, of our inherent evilness. We justify our actions until we are blue in the face: “It’s just a little white lie”

“I’m not as bad as her.”

“I’m a pretty good person.”

"It isn't a life."

“It’s not like I’m a murderer.”

Until given a choice.

In Galatians Paul is letting the churches of Galatia have it for mixing up the gospel. The people of Galatia are tying to earn their salvation by keeping the law. Paul argues that the Lord made a covenant with Abraham far before he gave the law to Moses and that covenant is not annulled by the introduction of the Mosaic Law. 

The covenant promised the coming of Jesus to pardon sin. Then what use is the law? It serves as a demonstration of our inadequacy. If salvation is through the law, we would have to keep every single piece of the law in order to receive it.  It demonstrates our substantial inability to keep the law and our utter need for Jesus.

If you recognize this as the gospel, it is imperative that you do not stay silent.

Many people have not witnessed the truth of the gospel. They are blind to it. The thought that they are a good person is enough. We know it is not. I realize that is offensive. The gospel is offensive. But to fully believe in the gospel of Christ and not tell others is unloving. Accepting people and their beliefs without telling them the truth is callous. That is not what Jesus did. Yes, He loved sinners. Yes, He everyone is welcome at His table. But He obviously offended a few. He was crucified for it.

We are called to go to the ends of the earth preaching His truth. It is not up to us whether or not people receive the gospel, but it should not be for lack of hearing it. As bearers of the truth, it is our responsibility to share it; to shine a light in the darkness and expose the depravity of this world. To point towards an eternal light.

Given a choice, we will always choose wrong. We will choose this world and our momentary needs every time.

We are what is wrong in this world.

Given a choice, we silence a beating heart and justify it by saying it is not a life, or that ours is more important.

So, don’t give us a choice. Don’t let us choose.

Graphic by Anna Merrell Photography and Design

Red

08/19/2015

I woke up early this morning to run. I went into the bathroom. I sobbed as I saw red.

I knew that it would be hard. I didn’t expect for it to bring me back to that day. The first day I saw red.

I had been up most of the night with intestinal cramps due to a nutritious flax seed smoothie.  That Wednesday morning I remembered reading something about bean sprouts being bad during pregnancy, so I asked Michael to look up flax seed during pregnancy. He text me that the opinions are mixed. Cue frantic mom. My anxiety immediately increased. I called my doctor and left a message for the nurse asking if a tablespoon of flaxseed could be dangerous for baby. I could hardly focus after that, checking my phone, worrying that I had hurt baby.

During my 10 am patient I felt something different. Something I used to feel. I returned my kiddo to his momma. My next patient had already arrived. I told them I would be right back.

I walked up the hall to the restrooms. Ever since I first started begging God for those two lines, I always checked as soon as I got in the restroom. There was always a little bit of anxiety with it. That day, I saw my fear; I saw pink. “Oh no, oh no, oh no” was all I could think. God had not given me false hope. I had had no spotting.

I was shaking. Tears filled my eyes. A lump rose in my chest. My stomach turned.

As I walked upstairs, I thought to myself, “What have I done?”

I listened to a voicemail from the nurse telling me that flaxseed will not hurt the baby.

But something was wrong.

I cried telling my boss I was pregnant and needed to leave. I told my coworker I was sick and had to leave. She turned away my patient.

I went and sat outside the doctor’s office, waiting forever for the nurse to call me back. Michael joined me, and we waited.

I pleaded with God. I begged Him, sobbing, not to take my baby.

The nurse called and told us to go get blood work done. So, we did. I needed my pregnancy hormone to be over 1500 in order to get an ultrasound. We waited and prayed for a high result. We waited for her to call us back. Two hours more we waited. When she did, she said that I was 4300, that although it was reassuring she would call to see if we could get in for an ultrasound the same day. I started to hope. God hadn’t given me false hope. He had been faithful. 
We went to gas station feeling better. I went to the bathroom. I saw red.

My heart dropped and my hope was gone. Looking back, I knew then.

I then called my parents. I text my best friends.

I sat shaking, waiting for the ultrasound.

We walked back to the room. A small part of me dared to hope to hear that rhythmic sound. As she found baby, I knew baby was too small. There was no sound.

She then told us that baby was not a 10-week fetus. That the dates could be wrong and baby could be younger. She needed to do an internal ultrasound. I knew then. No false hope.

She kindly told us that baby didn’t have a heartbeat. She used the words “embryonic demise” to describe our baby. She told me it was nothing I did. That baby couldn’t develop correctly.

We wept. I felt Michael watching me. The scenes from telling our family flashed through my mind. The view of the computer screen stuck in my head with the words “embryonic demise” ringing in my ears.  She explained our options and sent us upstairs to my doctor.

We waited in the waiting room. I stared into oblivion and tried to ignore the expectant mothers and their large bellies around me. My baby is not alive.

She explained our options. We chose.

I called my parents. I spoke the worst words to ever leave my mouth. I text my best friends because I couldn’t say the words again. I turned off my phone.

I carried baby one last night.

This Wednesday morning I woke up, and I saw red. My heart ached, remembering that day. My heart ached for my baby.

I went for a run in the dark in a thunderstorm. I cried as I ran. The steady rain and strikes of lightning a perfect reflection of the feelings inside me, running against a constant onslaught of emotions. Over and over I cried out “You are enough. You are enough.”

Despite the storm and the relentless rain, the sky lightened. The sun rose.

As it always will, even in the bleakest dark.

“ I have made you. I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.” Isaiah 46:4

The Baby Section

08/15/2015

I went in a baby section today. I have been avoiding them like the plague, for obvious uterus wrenching reasons.

Mom and I were walking through Kohl’s and my best friend had mentioned how baby girl didn’t have anything in newborn sizes. I noticed all these clearance signs and was turning before I could comprehend it. Then I was saying out loud, “Oh no, oh no, I’m in the baby section. I’m going in. Oh, no, that hurts. I’m doing it. I’m in a baby section. Oh, that hurts. My uterus is actually hurting…” And I went on like that for the entirety of the excursion through the baby section.

The uterus pain stayed. I realized it was the same feeling I get before I start my period. I eagerly await seeing two lines again. The day we grow our family again. That journey begins with the return of my cycle.

I have dreaded it. Dreaded the very tangible, painful reminder that baby is gone.

Today, the thought of cherishing the life we lost while looking forward to God creating life again lessens the dread. And I pray to not have to wait for it come.

Our Second Angel

We wanted to share with you, in hopes that you will pray for us, that we lost our second baby last week.

We were not very far along, but try telling that to our hearts.

We are hurting, but we are resting in the truth that we learned through losing our first baby. He has been faithful in that truth and the hope it brings as well as to surround us with amazing, loving friends who have been of great support.

Part of me would like to keep sharing our previous journey and hide behind it. But I don't want to hide this precious life, or our grief. Isn't that what sharing all this has been about? To make others comfortable with the darkness, I cannot hide our own. I will continue to share our journey as we encountered it. I eagerly await for you to join us where we are, although it will be a little bit before we get here.

Please pray for those around us, that God would be able to love us through them and join us in our grief.

Please pray for us as we grieve our babies, as we search for answers regarding our losses, and as we open up our home to children in foster care.

-Michael and Katelyn

Lines

08/14/2015

I have been dreading this first period. I hate not knowing what to expect, when it will be here, how bad it will be. I dread the emotions that will flood me. The real physical, tangible evidence that baby is so very far removed.

I wish I could be someone who means it when they are asked, “When are you going to have kids?” and you say, “Oh, whenever!” Or someone who just happens to realize they are a week late. That person is not me. From the moment we decided to begin “trying” in January, I have tried my best to control it, figuring out my cycle. Even when I gave that up in April, (cause who the hell has time for that?), I eagerly waited for the day I was suppose to start. And by eagerly, I mean anxiously. In fact, when I took the test for baby it was the day before I was supposed to start. I was sitting on the couch, the idea of baby had been running through my head all day and I kept telling myself to wait to take the test... Like there would be a better chance if I wait? Or maybe to keep this hope alive...because before I take it, everything is “could be”. Afterwards, I’m pregnant or I’m not. All of sudden I was up and walking to the bathroom. I made myself leave the room while I waited. I walked around the house. I begged God for baby.  I begged Him that whole week that I wouldn’t start.

When I saw those lines, I felt such joy; such absolute exaltation and gratitude to the Lord. I cried out to Him in gratefulness.

I had thought I would be able to keep it from Michael. Immediately I knew I couldn’t do that and I had no grand ideas. The test I took had expired (who knew they expired?), so I went to Price Cutter. I got another test and a cookie cake. I asked the guy to write, “You’re going to be a dad” on it. He came back with “You’re going to be a dad.” With a period. Who does that? Needless to say, he made it an exclamation point.

As I was checking out the guy bagging goes, “I hope that isn’t how you are going to tell him.” So, I said, “No, it was all they had left back there.” Jokes on you.

I hurried home to take the test and set up the camera. Michael got home as I was testing… I ran around the house trying to get everything in place. He noticed the camera... in his boxers. As he put on clothes I brought in the cake. When he came in the kitchen I held it for him to read.

It was the happiest moment. It was the tightness hug.

The knowledge that I held something so amazing inside of me, brought fear that I could lose this life. Part of me felt like I had convinced God to give us baby. Which is absurd. Nonetheless, it was in the back of my mind that day, and ever present; that I had begged him enough. As if His master plan could be changed by my pleading.

Here I am again, waiting to start. Wondering what could be. The chance that I have even ovulated in the past month is slim, but that hope fills me and with it, anxiety. The not knowing is the worst for me. It tortures the planner and control freak in me.

One line. And it kills me, because I saw two. I saw two damn lines, and now it's gone.

A New Day

08/12/2015

In the beginning when we were still sleeping in the guest room, I would open my eyes and see the light shining through the blinds, the room still dark. My eyes and my heart fighting the light, my hand on my empty stomach, and I would have to tell myself:

Baby is gone.

I am not pregnant.

I woke up yesterday morning, holding fast to the truth my heart grasped while writing...

Baby lives.

I will spend eternity with baby.
___________________


Praise God.