To my Angel Baby(ies) and my NEW Baby

Written on January 26th.  The morning we were headed in to the doc to confirm my pregnancy. 

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To my very first Baby(ies)

The sting of your loss is palpable. I can go back 5 years in an instant to that cold hospital and apathetic doctor.  Tears well in my eyes at the thought of it.  The waiting. The hoping. The praying. The painting. The writing. 

You are not forgotten. You are in a much happier place but I still ache because I am your Mommy. 

Hope because you taught us to pray big BOLD prayers despite medical opinions. 

Samuel because you were the child we prayed for so very hard. 

Well I am currently pregnant with your littlest brother or sister and the enemy is trying to steal the joy out of this experience just like he has done every time since I lost you.  But I am going to battle this out. 

We are going to be victorious. We are going to celebrate this life and this blessing and this hope.  

To my new baby. I love you. I have already been daydreaming about you and how you are the missing puzzle piece to our family. We think you may be our grand finale baby and because of that I want to cherish every single moment of this last pregnancy. I do not want to be swallowed up by fear or anxiety. 

Baby - We look forward to seeing you today. Hearing that strong heartbeat and getting sweet affirmation that you are alive and well and growing big and strong in my womb. You are fearfully and wonderfully made. You are being knit together by the most loving and creative Father and I know He has big plans for you and our family.  

So to my Angel Babies- I will never forget you. I will celebrate you instead of fearing. 

To my new baby - You are a treasure.  A blessing after a very long and hard season of bad health. You are the crescendo to the beautiful symphony of our family.  My prayer is that we can enjoy every single note. 

XO

Mommy 

My Journey with Mental Illness

We all go through seasons of heartache and struggle.  And now that I have come through a season full of it, I can look back and say with certainty that "When I am weak, I am strong."

Why? Because the ONLY one I could rely on was Him. He had the answers. And as I was at my lowest, He was closer than ever before.  This is a long read.  One where I was nervous to hit "Publish." But those are always the posts that need to be read/ heard the most, aren't they? So here we go.

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I have struggled with insomnia on and off my entire life.  It started back in grade school.  I still remember a time where my parents had to come pick me up from a slumber party in the middle of the night because I couldn't fall asleep.

It has manifested itself on and off throughout my life.  After I had children, it started to happen when I traveled.  If I was on vacation WITH Logan and our girls, I would be fine.  But on work trips or even "girl" staycations.... Anxiety would overtake me and I would not be able to sleep. I had a 30th birthday party at Hotel Zaza where I left at 1am because I couldn't sleep.  I was standing in the lobby in my pajamas crying as the music was bumping and girls in tiny skirts were dressed to the nines out on a Friday night.

This past September was no different.  I went to Austin for our Rodan + Fields convention and knew it was going to be hard to sleep, especially since it was the first time I had been away from Chloé. The first night I was up until 4am tossing and turning and panicking knowing that I had days ahead of me full of meetings, presentations, Happy Hours, and parties.  All FUN things but also ALL things I needed to rest up for.

The insomnia continued the next 2 nights and after running off 2-3 hours of sleep per night, I called Logan on Friday and begged him to drive down to Austin with the girls so I could last the rest of the weekend.  The night he showed up, I slept like a baby.  All was right with the world and we went back home on Sunday.

I called my OBGYN that Monday and told him what had happened.  I had another work trip coming up in November (A FREE Trip to San Francisco that I had earned) and I knew Logan wasn't going to be a drive away and I wanted to be able to sleep. He suggested I may be struggling with separation anxiety and prescribed me Zoloft.  He told me it took 3-4 weeks to get into my system so it would be a good trial run to get on it and see if by the time my trip rolled around in November, I would be able to sleep.

The weekend I started on Zoloft I never went to sleep.  I went an entire weekend. I was bulldozed by anxiety.  I panicked. I was sobbing. I was so tired, that I was no longer tired.  I don't think people understand how lonely, depressing, isolating, and scary it is to literally be up the entire night while everyone else in your home is peacefully sleeping. 8 hours is a LONG TIME to burn time. It's an entire work day. There were a few times where I was close to falling asleep but Chloé at the time was not sleeping through the night, so the second she would wake up, I would be wired again.

That Monday I called my doctor back and immediately took myself off of Zoloft.  He said I was officially out of his realm and I needed to see my internist.  Well, I didn't have an internist so I had to find a doctor who could see me as quickly as possible.  I called on a Monday and the earliest he could see me was a Wednesday.  To most people this wouldn't seem like a big deal, but knowing I had to endure 2 more nights of no sleep without answers was devastating to me.  I bought ALL the OTC medicines I could. Valerian. Melatonin. Benadryl. Tylenol PM. I did tea. I did warm milk. I did hot baths. I started reading instead of watching TV.  I did yoga and breathing exercises.  Nothing and I mean nothing was working.

On Wednesday, I met with my new doctor and he asked how much sleep I was getting per night. I told him 2 hours at BEST.  I was no longer tired during the day. I was shaky. I had no appetite. I was just running off straight adrenaline. I wasn't able to do much with the girls except feed them and stick them in front of the TV.  Logan had to go to work and I couldnt crash or rest because I had 2 little people I was in charge of.  My EKG came back abnormal and he said I had a heart arrhythmia but likely it was due to the lack of food and sleep.

This began the process of medicine hopscotch.  I swear I could open a pharmacy with how many pills I have now collected in our medicine cabinet. Over the next week, we tried Restinol. We tried Lunesta. We tried Ambien. We played with ALL of the doses and I maxed out on ALL of them.  Ambien didn't even make me YAWN.  We also had my thyroid tested to make sure that wasn't the cause and all my blood work came back normal. How twisted is it that I cried at this news? I wanted a diagnosis so bad so that I could understand and we could fix the problem.

At this point I started feeling like I may never sleep again. I started to become paranoid that CPS was going to take away my kids.  Tiny tasks like making dinner completely overwhelmed me and I quite literally felt like I was losing my mind and my sanity.  I would cry with Logan every night because as relieved as I was when he walked in the door after work, it also meant it was dark.... which meant it was getting closer to bedtime... and another long, horrible night of not being able to sleep.  Every time it got dark outside, my chest would start hurting and my heart rate would shoot through the roof.  My anxiety surrounding the evening time was the hardest part of my day.  In the morning, I would look around at people driving or in stores and be so envious thinking... "They have no idea how lucky they are that they can sleep." I would also wonder WHY my body couldn't do something so very BASIC and natural.  I was ANGRY. Worried. At one point I told Logan, "Babe, I am so sorry you are married to me.  I don't know if I am ever going to be the girl you married ever again."

I felt like I had lost myself. 

I felt hopeless.  No one could give me answers.  After we tried all of the medicines, my internist told me that I was now officially out of HIS realm and he wanted me to go see a neurologist.  This was terrifying to me because I had no idea if we were talking sleeping problem or something much more serious. I don't even need to mention how much money we were spending on all of these prescriptions and doctors appointments and the logistics of childcare each and every time which really did nothing for the anxiety I was already struggling with.  If I had been working at an office, I would have 100% had to take a short-term leave of absence. I was surviving my days and barely functioning.  I am so grateful for my friends and family that stepped in during this time to watch the girls and bring us meals.

The following week we met with a neurologist.  After a few short minutes, he was able to deduct that I did not in fact struggle with insomnia.  I had an anxiety disorder. He said the medicines I was on would treat insomnia but they were too weak compared to the monstrous amounts of anxiety that was overpowering everything else.  He assured me that if we could treat the anxiety, I would be able to sleep on my own.  I was relieved. The short-term solution was to keep a sleep diary and start adopting some good sleep hygiene - no caffeine after lunch time, doing the same routine each night, not exercising in the evenings, etc.  He also put me on Xanax (the BIG GUNS) to take before bedtime.  I still remember the first night when I took it, I was not hopeful at all because I had been down this road for WEEKS and nothing worked.  The next thing I remembered was waking up the next morning. Chloé had started sleeping through the night during all of this by God's grace... and for the first time in a month, I did too!  I was completely SHOCKED.  I was SO relieved. I swore up and down that I would NEVER take my sleep for granted again.

Now Xanax is not something you ever want to be on long-term.  It is very habit forming and your body can build up a tolerance to it.  Because of this, my neurologist had me meet with a counselor and a psychiatrist for a more long-term plan.

The sessions I had in counseling were priceless.  I discovered where the roots of this anxiety stemmed from and I was able to address them.  My home group prayed over me some of the most powerful prayers I have experienced.  I still remember one prayer of desperation crying out asking God if each of them could just take 1 night from me so that I could sleep.   I relied heavily on my community and close friends/ family as they walked this journey with me. Something I learned through this process is to ASK FOR HELP.  Do not be ashamed.  The people we are doing life with are the salt of the Earth.  Their hearts. Their generosity. Wow. Just makes me weep thinking about it.

There was also a night I went to church to get prayed over for healing.  That night was a real turning point for me.  Not necessarily because I immediately started sleeping, but because the dread and anxiety of the evening was replaced with HOPE and PEACE.  I also had a man that night (that I had never met) speak to me about how he felt like the Lord had given me a platform through writing and that I needed to keep sharing.  So here I am, doing JUST that.  It has taken me MONTHS to get up the courage to share this journey not out of fear for what people think, but because of reliving and re-telling the past few months that still feel VERY raw. I must admit I struggle with anxiety now about the insomnia returning and wrecking my mental health like it did last fall.  I really do. But I now have scripture to fight that battle.

I have been clinging to:

For the Lord has not given us a spirit of fear.
But of POWER. LOVE. and of SOUND MIND.
2 Timothy 1:7

And Psalm 121 stayed open by my bed every single night.

In the midst of this storm, Max Lucado also came to speak at our church.  On that night for some reason the usher marched us down to the second row. I have NEVER sat that close at church but it was evident that He wanted me to pay attention.  Max talked about the battle of Jericho and how we all have walls in our lives that need to come down.  He specifically addressed anxiety and insomnia.  It was UNREAL how God spoke through him to me that night.  Afterwards, I bought his book just so that I could talk to him and share with him the impact he had made.  Up to that point, I really had a stigma with medicine.  I thought the people who had to get on medicine (for anxiety, depression, insomnia) were those who didn't have enough FAITH.  So judgmental. So WRONG.  I opened up to Max Lucado about all this and he said "You need to be kind to yourself." He mentioned that he has taken medication to address some of these same issues and that someone in his ministry has been on medication for 30 years and he is one of the best men he knows. So when my friends and family told me these same things, it went in one ear and out the other. But when the Lord decided to use MAX LUCADO to feed me this truth, it sunk in.  Thank you GOD for his message and for his affirmation and validation that medicine DOES NOT MAKE YOU WEAK.  That is a lie from the enemy.

After a couple of weeks using the Xanax in the evenings, I decided on a psychiatrist who is a professor at Dallas Theological Seminary.  It was important that I went to someone SMART but who also shared my faith and belief system.  After an hour of explaining my month-long journey of surviving off 2-3 hours of sleep per night she came to the same conclusion as my neurologist.  She said I had struggled with a lifelong battle of anxiety.  She said insomnia is typically the first indication of mental illness.  Insomnia is rarely the root.  So out of all medications, she told me that ZOLOFT (AKA the drug that kick started this whole ordeal) was the very best on the market in treating anxiety.  She said the difference was that we were going to treat the insomnia at night and we were going to stair step up to  a full dose vs. starting me off at the recommended 50mg.  (Side bar: MOST people can start off at a full dose with no side effects.  Insomnia is a side effect in a very small % of people.)

I must admit, every single time I changed medicines it made me nervous. This time was even worse because the Xanax was FINALLY allowing me to sleep and she wanted to rock the boat.  I was not interested in the hopscotch game again but I trusted her.  Psychiatrists are EXPERTS in medicine. THEY are the people you should trust the most.  So we made the switch and it took a few rocky nights, but worked! Praise GOD for that! As the medicine was getting into my system, I felt weird.  Almost like I was floating or drunk and I was getting really bad headaches as well.  This happened to be the weekend of my anniversary and Halloween so it was kind of an icky time to be feeling so bad.

This continued on for about a month and I can tell you that Thanksgiving was the first week that I started to feel like I had my bearings again.  I was sleeping. I was able to take the girls to the park and  grocery shopping.  I started cooking dinner again.  I starting emerging from the fog and actually going to social events after months of being holed up in my house every day.  Although I cancelled my work trip to San Francisco since everything was still so fresh and raw, I was able to start working on my Rodan + Fields business again.  (I cannot even express the blessing that this business was while I took some time off.  My team kept working and the paychecks kept coming. God is the Ultimate Provider and He provided for us during these months when I otherwise would not have been able to work, through my incredible TEAM. So very grateful.)

Fast forward to today, and I am now up to the full 50 mg of Zoloft per day and I will be staying on it for the next 9 months at the recommendation of my psychiatrist.  I ADORE her and after meeting with her, I felt like I finally had someone invested in my "Case" and advocating FOR ME.  The run arounds with all the doctors felt more like I was a number, not a priority, and they were just herding cattle.  She makes me feel important and I know she is personally invested and cares about my well being.

Over Christmas when we were traveling (even with Logan and the girls) I still struggled and I am sure that is going to take some time.  I have my routine down in my house and my bed and that is LIBERATING compared to where I was a few months back. I am no longer anxious at night.  And I can tell you that I am thoroughly ENJOYING my days and life more than I can ever remember before.  I am LOVING motherhood. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I am laughing again. I am happy and filled with joy and peace by the grace of God.

I know this is going to be a scar that I carry for the rest of my life but I am hopeful that this will help someone out there with a similar struggle or story. The SCARIEST part of this whole journey was the fact that no one could tell me what was wrong. No one could fix it. And it felt like none of my doctors really CARED.

I am here to tell you to use what little strength you have to be an advocate for yourself and your mental health.  I had someone ask me "Did you ever step back and look at the blessings you had? The husband? The house? The healthy girls?" YES.  In fact THEY were the very things that were driving me every single day to find answers and to get better. Stay strong. Stick it out. I'm here to tell you, it will NOT last forever. The Holy Spirit is WITH YOU and FOR YOU. GOD knows and will sustain you until you find answers.  Don't find comfort in a diagnosis. Find comfort in an ALL KNOWING GOD who is your BIGGEST advocate.

My journey with anxiety is not over but I sure do have a new perspective on it.  Thanks to all of you who reached out concerned.  I wasn't ready to share the story until now and I really do hope it helps someone.  I can now say that mental illness can happen to ANYONE.  I would be happy to encourage you in any way that I can!

Pray for Paris

My heart sank Friday night at the news of the Paris attacks.  The beautiful City of Lights... and my favorite city on Earth was attacked.

As many of you know my husband was born and raised in the Paris area and we still have family and close friends that live there.  We were frantically checking in to make sure everyone was accounted for and thank God they were! But so many were not so lucky.   There is now a pit that lives in our stomachs as we think about what happened.

Where do I even begin with this? As someone who already struggles with anxiety, are we not supposed to go out in public? Restaurants? Bars? CONCERTS? Where will this end?

If we succumb to this fear. This anxiety... The enemy WINS. He gains territory within each of us.  Instead, lets remember that:

“Our fight is not against people on earth but against the rulers and authorities and the powers of this world’s darkness, against the spiritual powers of evil in the heavenly world. That is why you need to put on God’s full armor. Then on the day of evil you will be able to stand strong. And when you have finished the whole fight, you will still be standing. So stand strong, with the belt of truth tied around your waist and the protection of right living on your chest. On your feet wear the Good News of peace to help you stand strong. And also use the shield of faith with which you can stop all the burning arrows of the Evil One.” (Eph. 6:12–16 NCV)

The most beautiful thing I read was from Hillsong's Joel Houston:

Dear Paris, our hearts break with yours from afar, and though indeed the night seems darker than ever before, remember now, You are the 'City of Lights' - more now than ever. So remind us all, especially those who are blinded by their own hatred that even the deepest-dark can not stand a chance against even the faintest glimmer of light. You have our love, our thoughts and our prayers.  

 
Your love surrounds me when my thoughts wage war
When night screams terror there Your voice will roar
Come death or shadow
God I know Your light will meet me there
When fear comes knocking there You'll be my guard
When day breeds trouble there You'll hold my heart
Come storm or battle
God I know Your Peace will meet me there

Dallas Moms Blog Update

Here are links to my 2 latest Dallas Moms Blog posts!

One is my Do's and Don'ts List for a friend walking through Miscarriage.

Read it HERE.

The Second was really challenging to write because I had no idea where to start with how to serve the community as a FAMILY.  After doing the research though, I am excited to implement a few of these into my family's routine!

Read about it HERE.

Pregnancy Post-Miscarriage

I have had this post saved in my drafts for months now and it seemed appropriate to share today.  Why? Because on this day exactly, 1 year ago... I had my D&C after losing our first baby(ies).  It was the darkest time for me and one of the lowest points of my life.  And here I sit exactly 1 year later watching my little girl sleep soundly in my arms.  I stare down at the miracle that she truly is.  I can't imagine my life without Stella and had the other baby(ies) made it, we wouldn't have HER. This verse gave me hope then, and has such a rich meaning to me NOW. 

"And we know that God works all things together for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose." - Romans 8:28

It is amazing at what the Lord has redeemed in our lives in the past 12 months.  So much can change in a year.  

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What has pregnancy been like post-miscarriage? 

I have been asked this question a few times and I guess the simple answer is that I have never experienced a blissful pregnancy because my first one ended so tragically. Therefore, I have nothing to compare it to  I have never "tasted" anything other than a loss, followed (very quickly) by a new life.  That is my "normal."  

After we found out we were expecting for the second time, my first reaction was JOY followed very quickly by terror. I remember asking Logan and my friend Morgan to please pray with me in the car for a full-term, healthy pregnancy and a very early STRONG heartbeat.  I did not want to lose this one.  I was incredibly fearful during the first trimester.  I battled DAILY with fear... I DID, however find reassurance in my symptoms.  This time around I was nauseous all day, every day and had a lot of fatigue and low energy, but it was actually much better than last January when I would have to take 2 hours naps every afternoon and overall just felt depressed.  This time, I was just tired.  I tried my best to take those crummy moments as a reminder that things were progressing and going well.  Prayer and scripture helped the most.  I had to constantly remind myself that the miracle of creating a child is not in our hands... There is nothing we can do to take control from the Ultimate Creator.  So I just had to sit back and TRUST and hope and pray in those panic moments.  I knew that the God who formed me was also forming this baby and He knew him/ her fully already.  That gave me peace and security. 

My whole mentality changed at our 8 week appointment.  I would say up until that point, I was almost in denial about the pregnancy. I didn't want to get too excited or too attached like last time, so I guarded myself.  I remember the quiet drive to that appointment and the tears flowing down my cheeks as we listened to worship music to try to calm my spirit.  We walked in and the Doctor saw us right away.  He fit us in because he knew our story from last time and that I was going to Dallas for 2 weeks that Friday and we wanted to make sure everything was on track.  (I miscarried at 8 weeks last time, so this appointment was huge for me considering I did NOT want anything to happen to me in Dallas - away from Logan, our doctor, and our insurance!) 

We went straight to the sonogram and I held my breath while Logan squeezed my hand really hard.  Sure enough, up popped a BEAUTIFUL little blob! It looked nothing like our previous sonograms from the miscarriage- there was no mistake that this was a BABY... we were able to see its head and body, it wiggled its little nubs, and the doctor asked us the very thing that we were dying to hear... "Would you like to hear the heartbeat?" We said YES! It was music to my ears.  I burst into the happiest, most emotional, sobbing tears.  The doctor was a bit confused/ concerned with my reaction and I clarified "I am just SO HAPPY!" He then went on to say this was a very EARLY, STRONG, HEARTBEAT... word for word what we had prayed since Day 1 in the car with Morgan.  It was then that he said we had his blessing for me to go to Dallas and things were looking great and on track at 8 weeks! This was also the appointment where we got our January 28th due date and the affirmation that I needed in order to announce the pregnancy to my family and close friends while I was in Dallas. 

All that to say...  I do think that I struggled with fear more than others because of the miscarriage. Every ache, every pain, every abnormal sensation made me immediately jump to a worst case scenario panic...  But on the positive side, I don't think Logan or I took anything for granted this time and we learned the only way we could get through it was relying on and trusting the Lord.  We were (and still are) humbled, grateful, and awestruck at every milestone we reach. 

Our little blob at 8 weeks.  Little head on the right and body/ nubs on the left. 

Compared to 3 weeks old! Blob to beauty. Can you see the resemblance? haha :) 

Just 1 Week Ago...

This week I have been following the unfolding of the Sandy Hook Elementary School shootings.  I truly cannot imagine what it would be like to approach the holiday season without my little one and all their wrapped gifts under the Christmas tree that will never be opened.  It is almost too much for this Mama-to-be to handle. With that being said, I ran across this poem and it really gave me peace of mind and perspective. 

May we remember the reason for the season and what truly matters most in life.  

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twas' 11 days before Christmas, around 9:38
when 20 beautiful children stormed through heaven's gate.
their smiles were contagious, their laughter filled the air.
they could hardly believe all the beauty they saw there.
they were filled with such joy, they didn't know what to say.

they remembered nothing of what had happened earlier that day.
"where are we?" asked a little girl, as quiet as a mouse.
"this is heaven." declared a small boy. "we're spending Christmas at God's house."
when what to their wondering eyes did appear,
but Jesus, their savior, the children gathered near.
He looked at them and smiled, and they smiled just the same.
then He opened His arms and He called them by name.
and in that moment was joy, that only heaven can bring
those children all flew into the arms of their King
and as they lingered in the warmth of His embrace,
one small girl turned and looked at Jesus' face.
and as if He could read all the questions she had
He gently whispered to her, "I'll take care of mom and dad."
then He looked down on earth, the world far below
He saw all of the hurt, the sorrow, and woe
then He closed His eyes and He outstretched His hand,
"Let My power and presence re-enter this land!"
"may this country be delivered from the hands of fools"
"I'm taking back my nation. I'm taking back my schools!"
then He and the children stood up without a sound.
"come now my children, let me show you around."
excitement filled the space, some skipped and some ran.
all displaying enthusiasm that only a small child can.
and i heard Him proclaim as He walked out of sight,
"in the midst of this darkness, I AM STILL THE LIGHT."

Written by Cameo Smith, Mt. Wolf, PA

Mammaw

Miss you already.  Wish I could be there today to celebrate a life well-lived, a love story worth aspiring to, and a faith to be revered. Love you very much. 

"When Christ shall come, with shout of acclamation,
And take me Home, what joy shall fill my heart.
Then I shall bow, in humble adoration,
And then proclaim: "My God, how great Thou art!"

Heavy Heart

We had the most spectacular weekend in Montpellier. But last night as I was editing pictures and preparing the details for my recap post, I received a really hard phone call from my Dad.  My wonderful Mammaw had a massive stroke and it is not looking good. She is being transported to hospice this morning. 

I am in shock. I talked to her just 12 days ago on her 88th birthday and she was still sharp as a whip. This whole thing is so unexpected.   

THIS is why sometimes I don't think it is worth it to live so far away.  I feel so alone and helpless.  With me being pregnant AND in France, I am stuck.  Removed.  Sad.  Unable to be there for my family in their time of need.  And it just really, really sucks. 

All that to say, my incredible weekend has fallen by the wayside so that I can deal with this personally.  

Thanks for your thoughts and prayers, 

Abby 

My trip home in June... the moment where I told her that we were expecting. 

 

Last month at Stella's Baby Shower

To Our Angel Baby

This week marks your due date.... A milestone we will never reach with you.  We are grateful to have your healthy little sister growing bigger every day, but we have not forgotten the hole that you left in our hearts in February.  As I have watched the other Moms due in October grow and blossom, I can't help but wonder what you would have been like.  A darling little boy or a sweet baby girl, just like our Stella.   I do know that Stella has 1 (or 2) siblings up in Heaven keeping my grandparents company until I get to hold you on the other side. There is HOPE. 

As your due date approaches and the other moms give birth to little perfect October beauties, I want to take a moment to say we have not forgotten you.  My heart still aches for the unknown, the unexplored, the mystery and unanswered prayers that we still don't understand.  We are forever your parents and biggest fans and I know that you are in good hands with your Perfect Creator and Heavenly Father.  We will raise your little sister in a way that she will know about you (when the time is right) and how sad we were that we never got to hold you.  You have already had a permanent impact on us, our extended family, and others around the world. You have strengthened me and your Daddy's marriage, taught us all about praying BOLD prayers, The Creator, and the miracle of pregnancy and creating a new life - something we will never take for granted. 

You changed us all for the better... we will never be the same. 

You are loved. You are cherished. You are forever in our hearts and minds. A painful memory at times, but something to look forward to someday. We will have eternity to hold you, know you, and love you.  I miss you. 

All my love,

Mommy

*Below are a few pages of the art journal I made following the loss. It was my biggest coping mechanism and helped me beyond words. I needed a place to PUT things: verses, letters, sonograms, cards, pictures, etc. This was my "place." 

Do's and Don'ts: Miscarriage

The year 2012 is quickly turning out to be "The Year of the Baby." The weddings cakes have been replaced by diaper cakes as some of my friends are entering into this new phase of life.  In chatting with my friend Katie, we talked about how this whole baby, infertility, miscarriage business is unmarked territory for all of us.  Tell us to throw the most amazing bachelorette party or wedding shower including decor and games, we can have it thrown together in a SNAP! But babies? Loss? Infertility? We don't have a roadmap yet. We are ALL still growing and learning and entering this new phase of life.


I thought I would publish a few Do's and Don'ts from my personal experience.  (Disclaimer: If you said or did any of the "Don'ts" know that I most likely don't even remember and I don't care.  This was a new roller coaster for all of us. I wouldn't have known what to say either. Let's learn from this so we can be more sensitive towards others in the future. ALSO- Each girl is different. These are just the things that worked for me.)


DO:

• Say things like "I cannot even imagine." "Is there anything I can do?" "How can I pray for you?" "I am so sorry." "This sucks."
• Send cards, offer to bring meals (Logan had to cook for me for weeks b/c the last thing I felt like doing was being in the kitchen), bring by thoughtful gifts, flowers, call/ text, email, pedicures, movie night, etc. Let that person know that they are not alone and that people are supporting, caring, and loving them. 
• Acknowledge the loss.  Its the elephant in the room if you don't.  Next time you see the person ask "How are you doing?" When the cards run dry and the emails stop coming, its hard to swallow that life moves on and people move on.  It is nice to know that people acknowledge what you went through. Not every single time, but for awhile I think its important to check up on them. 
• Ask how the husband is coping.  Logan has a newfound appreciation for the GUYS who have to go through this.  He said the women get all the support and attention and so often people forget to reach out and hug the man. 
• For friends who hear the news, but find out THEY are pregnant! This was tough for my pregnant friends.  I will tell you this: It is better to be kept in the loop, than not.  It hurts 10x worse (even with good intentions) to be left out of that exciting news.  If they are a close friend, there are NO bittersweet feelings.  They are feelings of utmost joy and excitement... genuinely.  
• For friends who are already pregnant - Same as above.  Keep them in the loop concerning the sex of the baby, the names, the baby showers, the nursery progress.  Use a certain level of sensitivity, but you should never feel guilty about having a successful pregnancy. It NEEDS to be and should be celebrated!
• Be sensitive (if you are pregnant) in how much you complain about your pregnancy. The aches, the pains, how big you are getting, your cankels, you are past your due date, you aren't sleeping, etc.  There are girls who would literally kill to be 10 months pregnant, looking like a whale. I am one of them. 
• Ask friends that you know have personally experienced a miscarriage to reach out to the hurting friend (if she is willing).  I cannot stress enough how much more impactful the words are coming from the mouth of a girl who has walked through what you have.  It was so nice to ask the random, "crazy" questions to someone other than a doctor with a medical opinion. 

DON'T:

• Say things like "At least you know you can get pregnant." "You can always try again." "This was nature's way of taking care of an imperfect baby."  While all these things are TRUE, it is not what you want to hear right away. 
• The most hurtful one I heard was, "It wasn't even a real baby yet." I can't tell you how hard that was one to swallow because I totally disagreed.  I am very pro-life and from my perspective, it is a baby once that fertilized egg implanted and I believe that my God knows him/ her FULLY. 
• Downplay weird things that may be helping the person (Unless, of course... they are destructive).  I was told that my scrapbook was maybe not a good idea because it would have me "wallowing" instead of moving forward when in fact, it did just the opposite. I could move forward BECAUSE I did the book.  Just because someone copes differently than you would, doesn't mean it is unhealthy or wrong. Let the person do what is right for them.  Naming the baby, having a memorial service, doing a book, or doing nothing.  None of these things are silly or stupid. Whatever helps her find acceptance is the right thing to do and it will look different for each girl. 
• Ask "When are you going to try again?" The last thing on my mind was the NEXT pregnancy. I needed time to deal with the loss.  I wanted THAT baby, not ANOTHER baby.  
• Pretend like you know how they are feeling if you haven't personally walked through it yourself. 
• Compare.  There is a difference in pointing the friend in the direction of another woman who has walked through a miscarriage, but to point out women who had later losses or stillborns and how much worse that was and "at least yours was earlier than theirs" in my mind downplays my loss. Yes ours was early on and for that I am grateful (I guess?), but I was still very attached and the loss was very hard.  To talk about later losses as if they were so much harder invalidated my feelings over being heartbroken at "only" 8 weeks. ANY loss is a loss and they are ALL hard. 
• Take it personally if the person does not call, write back, or reach out right away...if ever.  The influx of support is AMAZING, but taking time to get back to every single person is a daunting and emotionally exhausting task. 

I hope these were beneficial. If anyone has anything to add, I would love to hear it! Also if anyone ever has questions, I am clearly a wide open book at this point :) 

A Great Loss: Our Story

I have wrestled with the decision to share our story or hold it in, because it is immensely personal.  Lately though, the Lord had laid it on my heart to get rid of my fear and tell it.  One of the reasons I felt led to share it is because as I was going through our loss alone in France, I found comfort in reading other people's stories (some I knew, some I had never met).  It helped me find support and encouragement knowing that other girls had gone through a similar experience and made it through.  So here we go... probably the most vulnerable and personal I have ever been on this blog. 


We had a miscarriage in February of this year.  


It doesn't feel real even typing those words.  To be honest, January and February were some of the highest highs and deepest lows I have ever experienced.  A roller coaster of emotions, unmatched by any other experience in my life thus far.  Now looking back, they almost feel like a bad dream that I sleepwalked through.  I like to think God gave me some sort of spiritual amnesia to help me forget how painful it was walking through the whole thing, so far removed from everything and everyone familiar to me.  So here is our story, I hope it reaches someone that needs the same encouragement I needed walking through this a few months ago. 

On January 21st, much to our surprise, Logan and I found out we were pregnant! We were shocked, elated, excited, and grateful.  Infertility is something I always feared and for some reason I truly felt it would take me months or years to get pregnant.   The timing seemed ordained since I already had a planned trip home in June of this year which would be right around my 6 month mark... we started daydreaming of a gender reveal party with my family and a possible baby shower this summer.  We also had plans of coming home for Christmas of this year for 3 weeks and were so elated to think our October baby would make his/ her debut in Dallas over Christmas break with some good, solid, family time.  Within the first few weeks, I started having some complications and scares that led our doctor to thinking I may be having an ectopic pregnancy (outside the uterus).  We had to rush to the hospital to get an emergency sonogram and it turns out everything was fine and the doctor told us there may be 2 sacks, not just 1! Twins? Seriously? We were not expecting that!  It was still very early on so we were told to come back the next week to confirm 1 or 2 babies.  We bounced into the next week's sonogram and when I saw the look on Logan's face as the doctor started talking during our sonogram, I knew something was terribly wrong. I have never been so frustrated by the language barrier. What was the doctor saying? Logan looked at me and told me that 1 sack was empty and the doctor was 95% sure the other baby was in the process of miscarriage.  He offered to "take care of it" that night, but we were hoping and praying for that 5% chance that everything was okay.  He gave us one week to see if I could pass it naturally and if not, we were told to come back in.  His matter-of-factness and apathy infuriated me: "1 in 4 women have a miscarriage." "At least you know you can get pregnant." "This is nature's way of letting you know something was wrong with your baby." "You can always try again." - NOT the things you want to hear from your doctor after receiving this news. I did not want or need a dress rehearsal for getting pregnant. 


Every single day of that week was a struggle to get out of bed. I didn't want to do anything. I lived in fear of passing the baby naturally and feeling an emptiness inside knowing that the baby could already be gone.  Gradually, Logan pulled me out of it and we started praying BIG BOLD prayers for a MIRACLE. We had no physical proof that the baby had been miscarried, so we prayed that the doctor was wrong. That tiny 5% shred of hope is what got me through the longest week of my life. 


We went back the next Thursday and our fears were confirmed.  It was not a progressing pregnancy and I had to go in the next morning for my surgical procedure.  Talk about nightmares... Logan was not able to be with me, no one was speaking English, I was surrounded by tons of doctors and nurses speaking French and I couldn't understand a thing they were saying. The last thing I remember is getting poked by the IV needle, a mask put on my face, and the huge light above me going blurry.  I woke up crying with terrible cramps, asking for my baby.  It was my rock bottom. I felt totally empty.  Logan and I spoke very few words that day.  There was nothing to say.  I was sent home at 4pm and went straight to bed.  


That following week I barely left our apartment... or rather my bed.  I cried, I prayed, I yelled. I was angry, hurt, defeated, upset.  As I shared our story with a few close friends and family,  I literally felt the heaviness start to release.  I know it was the supernatural strength God was giving me and the prayers from all over the world that He was answering.  


I told Logan one day that I didn't think I was okay letting the procedure be my closure, I needed something more. I needed a place to put our memories- the letters I wrote to our baby almost daily, the photo shoot we had when we found out we were pregnant, the 4 sonograms we had.  After reading "Heaven is for Real" a sense of purpose, relief, and peace washed over my soul.  I know that sounds dramatic, but I am not kidding - the healing tears I shed reading that book washed over my entire being.  I read the book in one sitting and when I was done, I knew I wanted to make an Art Journal for our angel baby. 


I know everyone heals in different ways and the thought of doing a scrapbook could stress some people out...but it was therapeutic for me.  I painted, wrote, journaled, found a place for all the memories I had cherished.  This baby was real.  This was our FIRST BABY, maybe not our first BORN, but our very first baby.  I have full and complete confidence that I will meet him/ her someday at the Pearly Gates. I cannot wait for that day.  After this epiphany, I no longer felt I was doing this journal in vain, it felt very real and tangible.  The best kind of closure and the least I could do in order to be a good Mommy and give this baby the love and respect it deserved.  We did pick out a girl name and a boy name and I finally finished the book before our healing trip to Italy.  Finishing it was an emotional afternoon, but I knew I needed to do it in order to move forward.  My Dad told me something that I will hold onto for the rest of my life, he said "I don't like the word closure.  That implies that something has ended permanently.  I think the term acceptance is more appropriate." I LOVED that.  I will never know why God took this baby away almost as fast as he gave it to us, but I will tell you this- being in France with none of my support group around forced Logan and I to bond closer together than ever before. Our marriage grew, our love and respect for each other grew, and our desire to become parents blossomed into a reality.  We have come out of this experience, deeper in love and stronger in our faith. 


My amazingly supportive and encouraging friend Nicki had this bracelet made for me and I truly feel like the Lord gave her these words to help me express what I wasn't able to say.  I love it and I love her.  


"Until I hold you in heaven, I carry you in my heart." 

I hope my story has somehow been shared with someone that needed to hear it.  To relate. To know that there is another girl in this world who has walked this very difficult, sad, unfair, heartbroken path. Please know you are not alone and you WILL laugh again and when you do...you do not need to feel guilty about it.  I would also encourage you to talk to people when you are ready.  It really helps to share the burden and I so appreciate my friends and family who stepped up to the plate to show us their support from an ocean away- emails, cards, phone calls, thoughtful gifts.  We felt so loved and supported even with an ocean standing between all of us.  Most of all, I REALLY appreciate the girls who supported me who had gone through a similar experience. They didn't owe me anything, but their stories, their answers to some of my crazy questions, and their support meant the most.  Knowing they truly understood where I was coming from and were able to move forward and (most) have children was such an encouragement to me. 


Thank you for reading my story and thanks to those who have supported us and continue to encourage us through this journey abroad.  It was a rocky start, but 2012 is already looking brighter.  


Bisous!
Abby