My Broken Hallelujah

I'm starting to think God works on me through my womb.  I know, that sounds weird.  But, the reason why I started going to church was because I was grieving my infertility and needed the "rituals".  I thought it would be comforting.  Ha.  That was the beginning of God working on my heart, and it didn't take long before I realized what I had been craving and missing the whole time was a relationship with Him.  I was in the shower when I prayed the sinner's prayer and surrendered my life to God.  Strange place, but it happened and my life has never been the same since.  God took my sadness over not being able to get pregnant and turned it into something beautiful: a relationship with Him, a new church family and eventually, led us to our beautiful daughter through adoption.  After she was home and ours, and I had enough energy to reflect, I praised Him for the infertility.  If I had gotten pregnant easily, who knows how much longer I would have resisted Him.  I would rely on my self-sufficiency even longer.

But, I did not praise Him through the Dark Time.  Instead, I cried out, begging for healing, begging for fertility, begging Him to hear me and take pity on me.  I went to a place where I thought if I was good enough, served enough, changed my life enough that He would answer my prayer and allow me to become pregnant against the odds.  This is what has been referred to as the Gospel of Sin Management.   Thankfully, I go to a church led by a staff of pastors who work really hard to teach their members about going past being a "lukewarm Christian" or an "ala carte Christian" and being a true follower of Jesus.  Because of the things I was learning through them, I started to realize that my behavior would never be good enough, and that I need to abandon all hope of ever earning favor. We can never earn our way into Heaven.  Instead, I had to trust and rely on Christ, and that He had a beautiful, divine plan for my family and me, and to follow Him through it.

Today, in my new Dark Place, I am so, so grateful for the foundation that has been laid for me.  I keep thinking about Luke 6:47-49, "As for everyone who comes to me and hears my words and puts them into practice, I will show you what they are like. They are like a man building a house, who dug down deep and laid the foundation on rock. When a flood came, the torrent struck that house but could not shake it, because it was well built. But the one who hears my words and does not put them into practice is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation. The moment the torrent struck that house, it collapsed and its destruction was complete.”  And also, the lyrics from Casting Crowns, "And even though my heart is torn, I will praise You in this storm."  I am shaken, but I will not fall down.  The storm is scary, but I will not fear.

It is laughable to me, sometimes, that I thought once I turned my life and the control over it to Christ, that it would be easy.  It is easier, in some ways, in that I don't have to rely on my own strength anymore.  I can lean on Him.  But, God never called us to be comfortable.  He never promised that following Him through everything would be sweet and easy and peaceful.  Jesus told us there would be trouble.  Living on earth and being a human is hard sometimes.  There are Light Times and Dark Times.  And no, I am definitely not comfortable right now.  My heart aches, my confusion can drown me sometimes, my frustration overwhelms and takes over.  As a believer, I rejoice that my son is in Heaven and never had to experience this world.  As a mother, I mourn my flat belly, my empty womb, the loss of the life I would have had with Gideon.  

When we conceived naturally after three years of infertility, I was in shock.  I felt like I had it figured out, that God had given me two beautiful children, one biological and one adopted, and that was the end of His plans for the number of children I would raise.  I never expected Him to put me into a place where I became part of the Tribe of Women Who Lost Their Babies.  I never expected that I would so soon be back in the Dark Place After Death, and that I would have to learn to praise Him from here.  Because this place between heartbreak and healing seems cavernous sometimes, and the darkness can overwhelm me. But, once again He is working on me through my womb.  His light is shining in on me and revealing things to me.  For instance, this blog that reminds me that I can praise and serve Him from wherever I am in my life, even the place where I have doubts, where my heart is hurting and there is darkness. And song lyrics from All Sons & Daughters that remind me that God takes our brokenness, our ugliness and makes it beautiful and delightful to Him.   I want to tell everyone I see: YES, it is possible to feel hurt and disappointed and still LOVE GOD.  And trust Him.  And believe that He is good.

I will never be perfect, far from it actually.  I am a sinner.  This earth is broken and crying out for Him, and I join in.  I cry out to Him, these broken hallelujahs.  Because I love Him.  I love Him, even in my Dark Time.  I trust Him.  I desire Him.  I want to spread His good news: that God has overcome this crazy world, and that the One that created the heavens and the heavens' heavens, the God of Abraham and David and the One that holds the whole earth in His hands...He sees us, He loves us and He sent his only son to die to save us.  Yes, my son is dead.  Yes, God saw it coming.  Could He have stopped it?  Of course.  But do I want Him to change His plan for my life because I am grieving? ...Sometimes.  But, I trust Scripture when it tells me that God is working all things (even the crappy things) for MY GOOD.  And I will spread His light even from my Dark Place.

Fifteen Days Later...

I can't believe it has already been over two weeks since The Day.  That is pretty much how I've been measuring my time: Before The Day and After The Day.  Sometimes it is hard to remember what I did or what I talked about before I was pregnant with Gideon.  I'm starting to feel normal though.  Slowly but surely.  I cycle through different emotions all day.  Mainly I'm ok, my family and normal life keep me busy.  It's not so hard to be alone anymore.  Last week I couldn't be alone or quiet for too long or I would start to dwell in the sadness and the grief.  Sometimes it just overtakes me like a flood.  I grieve for my son, the life he could have had.  I grieve that I never got to meet him, or hold him, or comfort him.  I never got to see him learn to walk or smile.  These things are what plague me.  I miss the son I would have raised.

Yesterday, exactly two weeks after The Day, we went and looked at headstones.  We chose a sweet image of Jesus holding a baby.  It will also have his name, his birth date and the Judges 6:12 verse on the back.  I think it will be a perfect monument that shows our forever love for our son, no matter that we got so little time with him.

I also had an appointment with my OB/GYN yesterday.  We talked a little about what happened with Gideon's umbilical cord.  She said it looked to her like it formed wrong, rather than it being an accident from his movement, but we can never know 100% for sure.  I can't decide if that makes me feel better or worse about it, to be honest.  I try not to dwell on his cause of death.  But she did reassure me over and over how rare cord stricture is, and that I should go on to have a normal pregnancy.  We are doing the miscarriage blood panel, which checks for genetic anomalies in my blood, blood clotting disorders, etc.  I think it will comfort me to have the blood work done.  Although I've had one normal pregnancy seven years ago, I would like to just check and make sure that I'm ok to be pregnant.  She gave us the green light to start trying to get pregnant again, and prescribed Metformin for me to take, which is how I got pregnant with Gideon in the first place.  I will be considered high risk in any future pregnancies, but she explained that that is just because of bad history, not because my body can not handle pregnancy.  It mainly means extra monitoring for peace of mind, especially between 15-22 weeks. She said she'd do a quick ultrasound at every appointment, and if I was feeling nervous at any time, I could come in for a quick heartbeat check. I just love  my OB.  I'm so glad she gets it, and cares.  God blessed her with a level of empathy that some other doctors can lose over time.

I am still not completely sure how I feel about moving forward and getting pregnant again.  I will never "actively" try to get pregnant again.  I don't want to ever stress about it and just let it happen if it's meant to be.  I'm trying to trust God in His perfect timing, and His perfect plan.  Sometimes I go through phases of anger with Him, or bargaining with Him.  Like I will say to Him, "if you just let me get pregnant again quickly and have a healthy baby, then I will trust You again.  I will trust that You hear me and care."  I will rage at Him for taking Gideon so soon.  I will rage that He can't help me understand why.  Sometimes prayer seemed...pointless.  Like why talk to Him, if He is just going to ignore me anyway?  I prayed continuously during my pregnancy with Gideon for a healthy baby, and look what happened.  He allowed Gideon to die.

But, ultimately, these are angry flashes in the pan and die out quickly.  I am reminded over and over of God's sweetness.  His goodness.  His faithfulness.  I am humbled over and over and come to Him in prayers of thanksgiving, of sorrow over my bad attitude.  I trust Him, I trust that He is making all things work together for my good.  I trust that He sees my tears and wants to take them all from me, and grieves for my broken heart.  I believe He is sad that He can't reveal the whole big picture to me now, but that I will understand someday when I am reunited with Him and with everyone I have lost.  His love drowns my doubts and I fall more and more in love with Him every single moment.  He has given so much out of His love for me.  He forgives me continuously.  I will not live a life of sadness and fear, but of joy and trust that He sees me, hears me and loves me.  And for that, I am so incredibly thankful.

"Search for the Lord and for his strength; continually seek him."

-1 Chronicles 16:11

Gideon's Story

People handle grief in funny ways.  Some bottle it up.  Others, like myself, are grief spewers.  They have to get it out or it will fester.  This is how I feel.  For the second time in my life, my world has stopped while everyone else's is moving forward.  The first time was July 23, 2003 when I lost my father to pancreatic cancer.  And this second time, November 20, 2012, was when I delivered my son, Gideon, whose heart had stopped beating at 18 weeks.  This is the story of that moment.  I just need to get it all out, to heal, to share, to move forward as much as possible.  I will preface this by saying that there are pictures of our sweet boy at the end of this blog post.  If it will bother you to see him, please don't scroll down.


On August 12th, I saw my first positive pregnancy test in 7 years.  My story of infertility and subsequent adoption of our perfect daughter is a separate one.  We had basically stopped trying.  Well, I'm not sure if after years of infertility you ever stop hoping, but we were no longer actively trying to get pregnant.  So, it came as a shock that we got pregnant naturally on our own.  I will be honest and say I was instantly terrified that I would lose the pregnancy in early miscarriage.  Once we got to 10 weeks and had an ultrasound that showed a perfect baby with a strong heartbeat, we announced our pregnancy and were overwhelmed with how excited everyone was for us.  Everyone knew how long we had awaited this precious baby.  The reactions of our friends and family are ones I will forever cherish.  As the weeks went on, my belly started to grow and I started to feel little thumps and kicks. We started to make lists of boy and girls names that we liked. Those were some of the most joyful times.  I feel so blessed to have that time of pregnancy.  

On November 19th, I was 18 weeks pregnant.  We thought it would be fun to go to the elective ultrasound place and get an early ultrasound to see if our baby was a boy or a girl before Thanksgiving. My mother was with us, and our kids.  As we were driving there, I told my husband that I felt oddly numb, neither nervous nor excited.  I had no real instinct as to whether the baby was a boy or a girl. I think even then, God was preparing my heart for what was to come.
I laid on the table as the tech started the ultrasound.  She started trying to measure the baby and said the baby was lying in an odd position and she was having a hard time getting a clear picture.  After a few minutes, I asked her if she saw a heartbeat or any movement, because up to that point, I had not.  She told me honestly that she was getting nervous.  She had me shift positions a few times.  Eventually, she did a close up on the heart, showed me the four valves, and that the heart was still.  There was no heartbeat.  I felt instantly...numb.  Just numb.  I didn't cry, even as my mom and husband started to.  The tech left the room to call my OB.  I spent those next few minutes just numb.  I couldn't think or breathe, beyond just feeling like I knew something was wrong, and my instincts had been correct.  My precious baby was gone and I had no idea what would happen next.  
I did not start to cry until I had to explain to my sweet son that something had happened to the baby and the baby had gone to Heaven.  His reaction was so sweet, and that is when I lost it.  I tried to stay strong in front of him, because he is such a sensitive kid and gets very anxious when I'm upset or not feeling well.  
Honestly, I did not know what to do.  I had this irrational fear that the baby was going to come before I was in the hospital.  I felt paralyzed.  My mom loaded up the kids and decided to take them home.  My husband and I left the ultrasound place and started to head back towards town, and my OB called.  She asked me to come straight to labor and delivery and she would meet me there.  I began to text message a few friends and church staff to let them know what was going on and to ask them to pray for us, for our strength as we were about to endure something I never, ever thought we would have to endure.  I gripped my husband's hand and cried tears of grief and sadness over my baby.

When we checked into labor and delivery, the nurse that checked us in told us how sorry she was.  That was when it really hit me, what we were about to go through.  It started to feel real.  My baby had died, and I was going to have to get him out somehow.  I was terrified.  I was scared it would hurt.  I was scared to see him.
Dr. Householder came in and did an ultrasound just to confirm, and to talk me through what was going to happen.  I will never forget how kind Dr. Householder and the nurses were.  I have read stories of stillbirths and some women have terrible experiences with insensitive OBs and nurses, and I had just the opposite.  Everyone, even the food staff, went above and beyond to show me respect and kindness.  
They began by inserting Cervadil to help my cervix soften and dilate.  She explained that since the baby was so small, my cervix did not have to dilate all the way, and Pitocin would not be needed.  She did strongly suggest getting an epidural though, just because there would be labor pain and she didn't think I should go through it.  I agreed.  They had to insert an IV and draw blood first, which was terrible.  My veins tend to roll and it took the nurse four tries in different places to get the IV inserted.  That was when my anxiety started to get really high.  I began to tremble and couldn't stop.  I was already beginning to feel crampy from the Cervadil, and I couldn't relax my body enough to deal with the pain.  The nurse came in and asked if I would like Stadol until it was time for my epidural (they had to get a certain amount of IV fluids in, and check my platelets level.)  I agreed, and she gave me some.  I felt very relaxed for about 30 minutes and then it wore off, and once again I was scared, sad and hurting.  Finally, it was time for my epidural.  It was over quickly, and they gave me even more medicine for anxiety, and this time I was finally able to relax and rest.  They gave me a button to push that could bolas out the epidural medicine as needed.  
I slept off and on.  Occasionally, the cramping would wake me up.  Around 3:30 in the morning, I woke up and realized I felt a sticky wetness.  I woke up my husband and he went and got the nurse.  She checked me and decided it was time to call my OB in, because my water had broken.  
I think at this point I should mention that my doctor was not on call, but she stayed at the hospital anyway.  This touches my heart so much.  I am so grateful to her for this.  She calmly sat on the edge of the bed and had me push a few times, and my son was born.  Up to this point, we did not know he was a boy.  She looked him over and she was able to tell right away that the reason he died was because of a very tight twist in his umbilical cord, right where it met the abdomen.  This is called torsion of the umbilical cord.  It is in the family of umbilical cord accidents, which is not talked about very much.  I am still doing research in this area, and honestly it is sort of hard to find answers on whether I could have done anything to prevent it (probably not) or the chances of it occurring again.  
She asked if I wanted to see him.  She said he looked normal and thought I should hold him.  So I did.  I was shocked by how small he was.  His coloring was different than I thought it would be.  She warned me his skin was translucent, but it still surprised me.  His features were perfect.  His sweet little nose reminded me of Will's when he was born, which makes my heart hurt even now.  As soon as I saw him, my first thought was "this is my tiny warrior", which then prompted me to ask my husband if he liked the name Gideon.  He did, and we agreed that Gideon was the perfect name for our sweet little boy, now God's warrior in Heaven.  
I delivered the placenta soon after and there was some trouble there, getting it all out in one piece.  She did feel like she got it all, but I am still nervous, I will admit.  If there are any pieces left, my body will not realize the pregnancy is over and my hormone levels will be slower to return to normal.  Which means, my healing will be even slower and it will be that much longer until we can try to get pregnant again.  

I felt relieved that it was over.  I had so much anxiety over the delivery and seeing my son, and it all turned out to be so much more peaceful that I had anticipated.  My amazing, wonderful friend Jessica, who is also an extremely talented photographer, offered to come and take pictures of Gideon for us.  I treasure those pictures so much, and find myself looking at them over and over.  

I slept a few more hours and then got up and took a shower.  I was so ready to go home to my kids.  Our pastor came and prayed with us, and then completely took over the arrangements for Gideon's burial.  Up to that point, we really couldn't decide what to do with his body.  All I knew is having him cremated and letting the hospital deal with it did not feel right.  He generously offered that the church take care of his burial and funeral arrangements.  We are so blessed by our church family in so many ways, and the way they extravagantly love is...just, well....there are no words for it, except that they show the love of Christ in so many different ways.  We feel so loved and cared for.   

It is now five days later.  We made it through Thanksgiving.  We made it through his sweet funeral.  I am trying to take things moment by moment and letting myself experience all the emotions that come with the grief of losing a child.  My physical healing has been difficult.  My milk came in, leaving me swollen and tender...and feeling the let down sensation over and over is extremely hard.  Almost every time I think of Gideon, I feel the let down sensation.  My stomach returned to normal, and I'm already down 9 pounds, but I find myself grieving the loss of my rounding belly.  I feel phantom kicks, which is normal after a stillbirth, but so, so painful.  I miss feeling those wiggles and knowing it was my baby.  

Emotionally, I am starting to level out.  I pray constantly for healing and strength.  I pray that even in this horrible time that I glorify and trust in God.  All I want is to shine His light, even in my darkness.  And He is answering those prayers!  I don't understand why Gideon is gone.  I will NEVER understand.  Sometimes I get angry, and ask God why He wouldn't let Gideon stay with us.  Did I not deserve to be his mother?  Why did He need him more than me??  But, God has given me comfort.  I feel protected.  He has given me amazing family and friends.  My husband and I are closer than we have ever been.  Our mutual grief over our son has united us.  My comfort is that Gideon had a mission.  He completed it and got to go home to Jesus.  He was warm and safe and cozy for a few sweet weeks, and then woke up in Heaven with Jesus.  My father gets to meet a grandchild for the first time.  One day, I will be with him again and until then, I will focus on my family and spreading God's love as far as I can.  

I'm going to add some pictures.  One will be of Gideon, so if that will bother you, please do not look.