This morning, as I was up getting ready to take Kyra to school, the kids and I were all eating one of our favorite quick things for breakfast…Muffin Tops.

While eating my muffin top, I was looking at Facebook, and noticed a little ad on the side of the page for a different kind of muffin top…

Kinda took a little bit out of my enjoyment of my yummy breakfast treat. Cruel irony.Stings a little. Thanks for that, Facebook.

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

When I compare
What I have lost with what I have gained,
What I have missed with what attained,
Little room do I find for pride.

I am aware
How many days have been idly spent;
How like an arrow the good intent
Has fallen short or been turned aside.

But who shall dare
To measure loss and gain in this wise?
Defeat may be victory in disguise;
The lowest ebb is the turn of the tide.

My post from this morning was kind of sad, no? Pitiful in parts, even. However, today was not all bad. It kind of progressively got better. You see, God gave me these three kiddos, and they are lots of fun. Also, their mommy is a tomboy, and she likes to play outside. Also, she’s not above making her four year old work for his wagon rides.

At the end of our evening playing outside, where I assure you the children all got their fair share of wagon rides, I took a ride down the hill in the wagon…then another and another. I rode all the kids down, too, which they loved. We had so much fun.

I got lots of cute pictures, too. I’ll post them soon. I’m having trouble figuring out how to re-size them in the new wordpress. I’ll figure that out, and then astound you with sunshiney cuteness.

I appreciate everyone’s comments to my last couple of posts. It means a lot. I mostly appreciate your prayers. I certainly need them.

The last few days have been hard. I think I’ve ran the gamut of emotions. I began really, physically miscarrying on Friday, and I was unprepared for the intense emotions that brought with it. Saturday was particularly hard, because I had to take the kids to their Awana banquet. I wanted to be in bed, not socializing at a church event. The kids really wanted to go, though, and Chris was working, so I had to take them. The hardest part was having to repeatedly tell people that I lost the baby. I kind of dropped the ball in updating people as to what had happened, and my wonderful church people didn’t know. I’ve found the telling to be excruciating.

My mom took the kids after the banquet on Saturday, and they spent the night with her and stayed with her till Sunday night. I had intended to catch up on some of the housework and schoolwork that I had gotten so behind in, but, instead, I went to sleep. I slept all day Sunday. I think I may have been awake for about two hours the whole day, and then maybe an hour and a half before going to bed when Chris and the kids came home. Amy wins best friend of the whole universe award for calling me yesterday morning and forcing me to wake up and get off the couch. I was trying my best not to, but Amy knew I had a test that had to be taken by noon. She even dealt with me getting a little mad at her for it.

I caught a break yesterday when my professor had put the date in wrong, and the test, which was supposed to be open till noon, had been closed at midnight. I emailed her, and she opened the test up until noon today. I had been planning on taking the test having not read any of the material. The class is online, and the tests are untimed and open book. I was going to just do my best, having not read any of the four textbook chapters the exam covered. With the extra time, I read all four chapters over the course of the day, and took the exam last night. Even after reading the chapters, I still only made an 89. I’m so thankful for the extra time. Next up is a paper for Western Civ. It was due last week, but my professor gave me mercy in regards to my situation. I need to get it written quickly, though. I have absolutely zero desire to do so.

I’m kind of a mess. Emotionally, I’m very up and down. I can go from feeling very normal and somewhat happy to being completely sad and upset the next. Physically, most of the actual physical effects of the miscarriage have lessened or went away, but I have had a lot of intense leg pain. It drives me crazy. The drugging up Sunday that led me to sleep all day was largely due to the insane pain in my legs. They didn’t bother me much yesterday, but they are killing me today. I’ve also been sick to my stomach for the past two days. I feel pretty yucky right now.

One of the hardest parts of this whole thing is that the rest of the world has the audacity to keep on living. I really just needed everything to come to a grinding halt and let me sleep for a week and get better. Instead, Chris has to keep going to work, the kids keep on needing cared for, my schoolwork keeps on needing turned in, and, apparently, the house keeps on generating mess, just on an accelerated schedule. It’s all overwhelming. I need everything to just stop and give me a few days. I cleaned the main living areas of the house Saturday before my mom came to get the kids, and it was clean until they got home Sunday night. Yesterday, while I did schoolwork all day, they made quite the mess. Today, I could get caught up on more schoolwork or clean up a bit, but there is no way I can do both. Honestly, I have no desire to do either, and I feel quite incapable of doing anything but lying on the couch. I feel so sick.

I am so very thankful that this semester is almost over. I only have like three weeks left. I am taking the summer off, and I intend to relax and enjoy it. Next semester, I don’t know what I will take. Chris will still be in school, and I will be, for the first time, homeschooling Kyra, so I don’t intend to overload myself with my own schoolwork. For the summer, though, we will take it easy.

I think I need a break.

Reading back over my posts, I wondered if I had done as well as I wanted to do in being transparent, or if I had put on a good face. What I wrote was honest. It’s where I was. I was hurting, but I had also come to a place where I was able to have faith in the Lord. Since I wasn’t blogging about it until just a few days ago, I thought I would publish some entries from my journal that I wrote last week. These entries were from a very raw place. It’s all a part of the journey.

March 28, 5:38 pm:

Little One, I love you. I know you’re new to this world and I’ve not known about you for very long, but I’ve loved you from the moment I started thinking of you. I want you so badly. I pray and plead with God to let me hold you in this world. I love you so much already.

I’m afraid, Little One. Afraid that I’ll have to wait till Heaven to know you.

I’m waiting now. Waiting to know if you are going or staying. My heart aches. I want you, Little One. I love you.

I bought you a teddy bear. I hold it and pray for you. I bought you a book today…Horton Hears a Who. That will always be our story, because it says “a person is a person, no matter how small”. People may not understand how I can be so attached to you already, Little One, but you are my baby. You are a whole person, no matter how small. I will always be your mama. If you rest in Jesus’ arms before mine, I will read this book to your brothers and sister and tell them of you…about  our Little One in Heaven. If God answers my cries and lets me keep you, I will read this story to you and tell you how much I wanted you and how much I loved you.

I love you, Little One. I always will. No matter what happens, I’ll always be your mama.

March 28, 10:52 pm:

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I feel too much and too little. Alternating excruciating and numb. I prayed for tears, but I didn’t want them if this is what it costs. Sobbing at the kitchen table…alone…because my baby is most likely dead. That’s just cruel.

Cruel to know what it’s like to be held. To know there’s a measure of comfort to be had…somewhere beyond my reach. Emails saying my friends would come and sit with me…pray with me…if they could. They can’t. They live on the other side of the country. My husband’s not home.  This hurts. I’m alone. So alone. The times that I’m not make being alone now even worse.

It hurts.

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I’m being ridiculous for clinging to a shred of hope. I don’t want to be pitied. I don’t want to have to be “dealt with”. I’m not freaking out on anyone. I just want to know for sure.

March 29, 7:32 pm:

It hurts so bad.

I’ve been able to pray today. Been able to touch God. I’m okay. I am okay. Regardless of what happens, I am okay.

It still hurts, though. I feel bone-crushingly sad right now. I finished some housework. Sat down to rest. Caught up on reading blogs. Joy had blogged. I looked at pictures of her three month old. Clicked through to the pictures of her newborn niece. I probably shouldn’t have done that. There was a video clip of the new mama and baby. Those newborn eyes. I want to look into my Little One’s eyes.  I want to hold her in the hospital, and call her by her name. I want to smell her newborn smell. I want my baby.

Will it always hurt.? I’m beginning to feel like my stubborn hope is a little silly. It’s hard to give up. I want my Little One. I’m trying so hard to be okay. I am okay, but I certainly don’t feel okay. I’m sad. I’m lonely. I’m hurt. I’m heartbroken.

I feel like I’m gasping for breath. It’s crushing. It’s suffocating. Oh, Jesus, hold me up.

March 29, 8:34 pm:

Dear God, I’m feeling frantic. I’m sitting here, heart racing, feeling desperate. I can’t feel you anymore. I can’t feel your presence. I’m not angry at you. I’m not hurt at you. I just need you. Right now. I need to feel the peace you gave me earlier. Oh, God! It hurts so bad. I can’t breathe. Give me peace to guard my heart and mind. I need your grace. I got irritated at Chris for suggesting I should do his laundry. The same feelings that I had when he left me to go have fun with the kids on Monday. God, help me to remember the way he prayed for me and Little One. Help me to remember the psalm he shared with me. Help me, God. Help me not to be hurt when people talk about other things. Help me to remember that the world still turns and there is more in our lives than what is happening to me. God, help me. Help me to react right. Help me not to be selfish. Help me, God. Help me to breathe. It’s hard. I can’t pray right now, so I’m writing this prayer instead. Sometimes it’s easier. Help me, God. Help me. I heard you today. I felt your peace. Why is it so fleeting? Seeing that new baby, I was suddenly flooded with the reality of what I’m losing. Oh, God. It hurts. It hurts. I just wish I knew. I want to know what’s going on. Holding that baby in my dream, I could actually feel her weight. I am afraid I’ll never hold my Little One. It hit me so hard, God, when I saw that new baby. Realizing what I probably won’t get to do. To hold her and breathe her in. Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. I want to numb my heart. It hurts too bad. I feel alone. I feel incapable of dealing with the kids tonight. Make them go to sleep quickly. Lord, help me to remember I have three other kids. Help me to take better care of them than I’ve done. Give me patience with them. Help me to know the words to say when it comes time to tell them about our baby. God, I don’t want them to hurt, but I want them to know. Little One is part of me…part of our family…part of our story. Amy says it won’t always hurt this bad. God, can’t you make it hurt a little less until Chris is home to hold me. Please. I’m begging you. I can’t do this alone. I don’t know how I’m supposed to make it through this night. I know I have three healthy babies. I know. I know. I know, but it still hurts. I wanted this baby so bad. I loved her already. Please help me, God. Please help me.

Thank you all for your prayers and support. I received a call from the doctor a little while ago. My hcg levels had dropped significantly since Tuesday night. It appears that God has chosen to take my little one to be with Him. I’m thankful for the time that I had my baby, and I’m resting in the knowledge that my Father will hold me through what is to come.

The LORD gave, and the LORD hath taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD. Job 1:21b

Thank you all for your continued prayers. I ask you to especially pray for Kyra and Elijah. They really wanted our baby to “get to be born”.

I’m sorry this post is coming so late in the day. I know a lot of you have been checking in on me. I appreciate the comments, phone calls, and emails so much. Most of all, I can’t thank you all enough for your prayers. Last night’s update was brief, so I’ll elaborate a bit on what happened yesterday.

Faith:

From the time I left the ER Tuesday night until sometime yesterday afternoon, I really wrestled with what to do if this was an ectopic pregnancy. There is nothing that they can do to turn an ectopic pregnancy into a healthy one. It’s a dangerous situation. To briefly explain it, it is when the baby implants itself somewhere besides the uterus…usually in the fallopian tube…and therefore the pregnancy cannot continue to term. The baby grows in the tube until it has no more room to grow, and then the tube will burst. This can cause excessive internal bleeding and damage to a woman’s organs, and can sometimes result in the death of the mother. The usual treatment for an ectopic pregnancy is to remove the pregnancy either by methotrexate (a drug that is injected to stop the baby’s growth and cause the mother’s body to absorb the baby) or by surgery. I immediately recoiled at the thought of the shot, and knew that I would not be able to do that regardless. The other option is to remove the baby by surgery. Obviously, both of these treatments would end the baby’s life.

I struggled hard with the thought of having to choose to remove the pregnancy before it burst my tube. I really felt, by what the doctor had told me about what was seen by u/s, by the pain I felt, and by my gut feeling, that I was dealing with an ectopic pregnancy. It seemed to be the case. I was trying to come to terms with what I was going to do about it. I cried over my hamburger at Steak and Shake after we finally left the ER Tuesday night, when I told Chris that I just didn’t think I could end my baby’s life, even if it was destined to end anyway. I told him that it seemed like, if I were really going to have faith that God could do a miracle for me, I would have to leave it in his hands. It wasn’t cut and dry. We didn’t know what the wise thing to do was.

Yesterday morning, I called Amy to pray with her like I do every morning. I told her that I didn’t think I could do it. I told her that I believed God could do a miracle, and, even if he didn’t, I could trust Him. I told her that He had proven Himself faithful to us over and over in the past year. He proved faithful in small matters, like how someone would respond to a hard conversation He was prompting me to have, etc. He proved Himself faithful in bigger matters, like my struggle with disordered eating, etc. I felt like all of those things were preparing my heart to trust Him to be faithful in this…the biggest thing I had ever faced. I knew He could do a miracle. It was a step of faith to trust Him to do so, or to trust Him to take care of me if He didn’t.

By the time I actually was at the OB’s office, my prayers had began to focus on needing my doctor to be understanding of my decision and supportive of me. I knew this was unlikely. I had another u/s, and then we had to wait for a couple of hours before actually seeing the doctor. He came in and told us that the u/s they did yesterday was the opposite of the u/s they did in the ER the night before. They saw nothing on my left side, and they saw a yolk sac in my uterus. As soon as he said this, I began to cry. I knew that God had specifically answered my prayer. He went on to tell me that the yolk sac did not look healthy, and he expected that I was going to miscarry. The tears really began to fall then. I was prepared for this, and it was definitely better than an ectopic pregnancy. It was still hard, though. I still love this baby, and I still want my baby to live. As I cried, he offered me a tissue, and told me that, since my hcg levels continue to rise, he wanted me to come back on Friday to have more blood taken. He said that we will monitor my hcg levels, and we won’t do anything until we are sure the baby has died. If the baby dies and I don’t miscarry naturally, he said we would talk about a D&C. He said there is a chance that the pregnancy could continue, but he doesn’t expect it to because it didn’t appear to be healthy.

So, with a heavy heart, we left the doctor’s office. I really broke down as soon as we stepped through the doctor’s office door into the hallway. I’ve not cried like that in a long time. It all just seemed like too much. When we were finally in the car, I quit crying and took a few deep breaths. I knew that God had answered my prayer. Even though it still hurt, it was an answered prayer, and I had to thank Him. He proved, once again, that He is faithful. He hears our prayers, and He cares. He saved me great heartache, and, even in my sadness, I praise Him. He is faithful.

Hope:

We came home yesterday evening, after taking some time to stop in Oak Ridge to eat dinner and talk, and I lay down on the couch to try to sleep away some horrible car-sickness. I’m reminded in moments like that of the fact that I AM still pregnant, and I still get sickish and tired very easily. Shortly after we came home, my mother-in-law, Velvet, brought our kids home. She was so kind to keep our kids for us from the time I went to the doctor before I went to the ER Tuesday night until yesterday evening, letting them spend the night in between. The kids came home, and gave me hugs and kisses. Chris and I had decided over dinner that we needed to tell the kids what was going on.

I asked Kyra if she knew why Mommy had been going to the doctor so often. She said she didn’t know, but she had a guess. I asked her what she thought it was, and she said, “You have the flu?”

Chris and I smiled at each other. “No, honey, I don’t have the flu.”

She said she had another guess, “You got sick because of winter.”

I told her that wasn’t it either. I told her that Mommy had a baby in her belly, and, before I could finish my sentence, her face lit up and she started clapping her hands. I interrupted her excitement, and told her that there was a problem with the baby and it might not get to be born. I told them that God might take our baby to Heaven, and we would get to see the baby when we went to Heaven. They both thought about this for a minute, and Kyra asked, “The baby can go to Heaven even when it didn’t get saved?” Chris and I laughed a little, and explained that, yes, the baby would still go to Heaven. She accepted this, and then Elijah said, “I have a guess.”

Chris and I looked at each other over his head, and I said, “What’s your guess, Elijah?”

He said, “You have the flu!”

“No, Elijah.” I said. “The reason I have been going to the doctor is…”

Elijah cut me off and said, “I have another guess!”

Sigh. “Okay. What’s your guess?”

Elijah smiled, and said, “You have a baby in your belly.”

I told him, that, yes, I had a baby in my belly, but reminded him that there was a problem and God might take our baby to Heaven. Elijah then told us that he thought the baby would go to the devil. I sighed and let Chris deal with that one.

While the conversation with Elijah was going on, Kyra had left the room to get me a blanket, because, immediately on learning I was pregnant, she had went into “take care of Mommy” mode. She brought the blanket, spread it over my legs, and said, “I know! We can pray for our baby.”

I told her that was a very good idea, and that we could pray for our baby every day. I told her that God knows better than we do, though, and He know what’s best for us and our little one.

Kyra said, “I’m going to pray right now.” She climbed up beside of me, laid her hands on me, told Elijah to be quiet, and began to pray, “Father, thank you for this day. Thank you for the baby in my Mommy’s belly. Please help the baby to get to be born. Please help my mommy to feel good. Thank you. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

I don’t think I will ever forget that prayer. It was such a sweet moment. Tears were rolling down my cheeks while my little girl prayed for us. She had complete faith that we serve a God who hears and answers prayers. Every time I tried to remind her that there was a problem and we had to be prepared that God might take our little one to Heaven, she responded with hope. She knows we serve an all powerful God who loves us. She knows He can do miracles. In her complete faith, hope seems to be the only logical response to our situation. As a mother, I’m afraid that God’s answer will be “no”, and Kyra’s heart will be broken. She’s already hoping for a sister. Talking about having a baby again. I suppose that, in this situation, I have to take my lead from Kyra, and have faith enough to hope for miracles…while still having faith that He will hold us if the answer is “no”.

Love:

Throughout this whole thing, which is going on two weeks now, I’ve been reminded over and over of how much God loves me. He’s reminded me that my faith in him is not misplaced. He’s reminded me that He is all powerful. He’s reminded me that He still can work miracles in our life. He’s held me when I cried, and He’s surrounded me with people…even total strangers…who love me enough to hold me and my family up in prayer. I’ve come to find that Jesus IS all-satisfying. He meets every need. He comforts every heartache. He is a loving Saviour who comes to my rescue every time. I know I may have much more heartache ahead of me. This whole process still goes on. I don’t know the end, but it’s enough to know that He does. He knew the end before I knew the beginning, and I will trust in that. My Saviour loves me. He will take care of me…regardless.

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for wholeness and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you. You will seek me and find me. When you seek me with all your heart, I will be found by you, declares the Lord,

Jeremiah 29:11-14a

Thank you, Friends, for your prayers, and I ask you to continue to pray for me, my baby, and my family. It means so much.

I am too exhausted and sick to write a proper post, but I wanted to let you all know that God heard and answered our prayers. The u/s today showed the opposite of what last night’s u/s showed. There is nothing on my left side where they thought they could have saw an ectopic pregnancy, and there is now a pregnancy in my uterus. I don’t have to make a heartbreaking decision concerning an ectopic pregnancy. Praise You, Jesus! The bad news is that they said the pregnancy did not appear to be healthy. He told me he expects me to lose the baby. I go back Friday to have my hormone levels checked again. Please continue to pray. I will post a proper blog post tomorrow. I need to sleep right now. Thank you, Friends, for lifting me and my baby up in prayer.

I’ve had a long and tiring day today. I’ve had a great deal of pain all day long. I thought this morning that I was miscarrying for sure, but, when I called my doctor, he said my hcg (pregnancy hormone) levels had went up. He said I was still pregnant, and he was worried at the pain. He sent me to an ER in Knoxville. They gave me medication for my pain, and did another ultrasound. They didn’t get any conclusive results, but they did test my hcg again. It had went up again since yesterday. They told me that I am still pregnant, but they are not sure where the baby is. They could not see anything in my uterus. The only two options are that the baby is in my uterus but too small to be seen by u/s yet or that it is an ectopic pregnancy. Obviously, I am hoping with all of my heart that it is the first option.

Please pray for me and for my baby. I need a miracle.

What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can beagainst us?He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies.Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? As it is written,

“For your sake we are being killed all the day long;
we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.”

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.                               Romans 8:31-39

Regardless of what happens, God is good.