From Riches to Rags, and the Glory I Found There

I've literally spent years learning how to be a barren woman.         It sounds strange doesn't it? Like I had to go to school and stumble through a bachelors degree in infertility and years later I'm still working on my masters in barren-hood. Obviously I started by majoring in motherhood but somehow flunked out and realized that my credits could transfer so I'm here just trying to survive finals.       Did I take the analogy too far? It was just to show you that this is a process, a process that does require learning new things, and re-learning old things. A process that forces you to re-evaluate where you thought you were going and makes you change your behavior to be successful.       I tend to be upfront and possibly a tad blunt when it comes to infertility. Why are we so secretive about such a defining part of our lives? If my leg was amputated I wouldn't be constantly hiding it under a blanket after I've healed. Trying to not bring up the fact t

     This is a hard one... Last year John and I prayed deeply about stopping actively trying to conceive. We spent a month in prayer and asked a few people to pray for us as well. John and I felt like we needed to stop. Stop with the tests, stop with the meds, stop with tracking cycles, stop with the supplements. I specifically felt like this was just for a year, I wasn't sure what we were supposed to do after that year but I knew He would reveal it in His time.      The Lord blessed us so much in honoring Him and trusting His will for us. We have truly had an amazing year. We traveled to Brazil on a missions trip, took weekend trips to Lancaster, Kings Dominion and Va Beach, vacationed with our family in the Outerbanks, and took a once in a lifetime trip to Albuquerque, the Grand Canyon, and Cimarron! And the year isn't even over yet!!! I can honestly say this year has been one of the busiest years we've ever had.      At the beginning of the year John told me that

There are so many stories out there about beautiful "rainbow babies". For those of you who aren't familiar with the term "rainbow baby" here is a simple explanation of the term. After we first lost Kimber I loved the term. I was so convinced that the Lord would provide a rainbow baby for us and show us that He saw our hurt and was blessing us with the sunshine and hope of another baby. But our empty arms stayed empty and our broken hearts continued to stay broken. Month after month, negative test after negative test, and still no baby. We did all the tracking and all the meds and still no rainbow baby. So, where did that leave us? We were in a perpetual state of trying to conceive and were always delaying trips or plans because of "what's ifs" and "maybe thens". We would count the months and see due dates and plan around them because we just kept thinking our rainbow baby was just around the corner. As the reality of our secondar

There is a common thread of conversation amongst women who have lost a child, at almost every stage, "nobody wants to bring them up". Sometimes that is true, sometimes people don't bring up your baby. It's not that they don't remember or that they think your baby didn't matter. They don't bring up your baby because they're afraid of hurting you more. They're trying to respect your wishes and to follow your lead. But, please hear me when I say this, and I mean it in the kindest way possible, it is not someone else’s responsibility to make you feel better. Sure, it would be great if they could instantly know what you needed and give it to you, but they're human, so they can’t be responsible for our happiness.  It's time, we grieving mothers, to end our pity party and realize that we are responsible for our child's legacy, no one else. In the world we are given a "pass" to grieve however we like. Even if that means we are si

Have you ever read 2 Corinthians 1:3-4? Have you just skimmed over it? Have you thought, "oh, that's nice, comforting people is always good"? Have you thought one day someone might be there to comfort you? But, have you READ it? Have you let it sink into your soul? Have you read it and felt the calling? Have you wondered how there could ever have been a  time  it didn't mean as much to you? Have you felt the power of God's word flow from your head to your heart as He calls you into something so much bigger than yourself, so much bigger than your own suffering? I have never known comfort quite like when we sat in the hospital  holding t he  body of our only child in our arms.  I have never know joy quite like when we smiled and laughed  and shared our son with whomever wanted to meet him. We had an amazing support system. Amazing family members, amazing friends, amazing church family, and amazing nu

Kimber died. 2 1/2 years ago, he died. And it almost felt like we died too. Like our very breath had been stolen from our lungs. It literally felt like we were defying nature when we to buried our child.  I say this so you can try to grasp how broken we were at that time. Time stood still the moment he died, the second his heart stopped beating.  Have you been there? In a moment that threatened to last forever and was so unbearable that you were terrified if you would never get out of it alive? But, the world doesn't stop, it just keeps revolving. And we learned, we can't just stop either.  Slowly God asked us to move forward, step by step. Steps we weren't sure we were ready for. Steps that scared us beyond human comprehension.  But He held us as we took them, every single, unstable step. He gave us infertility and asked us to walk...to walk and to still be with Him. He gave us our son, Kimber, and He let us walk as we fell in lo

I'm so unbelievably sorry, dear one. I'm heartbroken for you, and for your family, and for your baby.  I'm sorry. Where are you at? Are you waiting?  Waiting for that third ultrasound when they can finally say "officially" your baby has died? Waiting to be admitted into a labor and delivery room that previously held excitement but now only holds devastation? Waiting for meds to kick in that will trigger your body to birth the most precious thing in your life? Waiting at home, all alone, for the cramps to start? Waiting for the world to stop spinning, because your world stopped? Waiting in the doctor's office hoping they don't confirm what you already know? Waiting for a Miracle? Are you praying? Praying that all the doctors or midwives were so very wrong, that somehow they missed the tiny little heartbeat that holds your whole world? Praying that it won't hurt as much as you think it will once the shock wears off? P

I have been writing and rewriting this blog for over a month now. I question what my motives are, what point I want to get across, whether it's glorifying to God or myself? There have been times when I have struggled with sharing too much of our struggles, and our hurts. I've wondering if sharing has been worth it? It definitely has not been easy. I always end up with the same conclusion, that with each step of vulnerability I've taken, the Lord has redeemed it...every time.  So, when He calls me to share, I share. John and I have decided to stop actively trying to have children. A lot of prayer and time and seeking advice from a multitude of counsellors went into this decision.  John and I took time to pray apart and when we came together we both had the same answer from God. It was time to stop, time to let go.  These past few weeks have been quite a struggle for me.  Its been, at times, unbearablely hard letting go of our dreams to have more children