Surviving

Another week has come and gone, filled with countless hours alternating between the couch and the bed. Oh, how I miss being upright. And shaving my legs! No one talks about how to handle not being able to shave your legs for a 5 month time period. It's very disturbing.

Last week we received discouraging news. The clot was growing faster than the babies, outweighing them and crowding them. The specialist said it didn't look good and then basically sent me home to miscarry. Not what I was wanting to hear. We saw our regular OB yesterday who is a Christian man and reminded us that it is not in our hands and that he is going to remain optimistic as long as we continue to have 2 heartbeats on ultrasound. The clot had not shrunk, despite my increase in bleeding, but it wasn't bigger for the first time.

So I am desperately trying to trust God in this. Some days that comes more easily than others. Some days it's like I am suffocating with anxiety and worry for these little guys, and some days I am at peace. (Or at least at peace for part of the day). Slowly God is pulling all of us through. And in a moment of hope, I started on baby blankets. Crocheting came back easier than I though after six years off. And, since they are thinking we are having a BOY and a GIRL, I thought I could do them in any color and be safe! (The boy is the big guy stretching his legs, the girl is a little more petite)

Reagan's Due Date

I have dreaded this day for the past 4 months. Reagan's due date. Tomorrow. It's like a part of me is breaking all over again, knowing this was the day she was supposed to come. She wasn't supposed to be here last year. It was supposed to be now. But clearly things don't work out quite as planned. Or at all as planned. I miss my baby girl so much it's still hard to breathe sometimes. As I struggle with the current pregnancy, I can't help but think that if Reagan were still here, I wouldn't have to endure all this too.

We had this wonderful plan, to take her to the beach. She came with us to the mountains and to Clemson while in my belly but never the beach. We had a condo rented so we could spend 4 days remembering her short life, celebrating who she was and what she means to us. But because of the twins, travel is now off limits and we are just here at home. It feels like I am doing a disservice to her. Breaks my heart. I don't know the best way to honor her from the couch. It still feels so wrong, the whole thing. I know God is good and he has something planned for us, it is just do hard to remember or even see when we are surrounded by sorrow. Praying for a calm day tomorrow so we can remember and celebrate our precious little girl.

Home

Let's just say a week in the hospital is just too long. I was finally stable enough to come home Monday night. How wonderful it is to sleep in my own bed, not be interrupted all night long, and be completely needle free.

But with being home is a continued sense of worry and dread. Like I am just sitting around waiting to lose these babies. The clot is measuring the size of a grapefruit, the babies the size of grapes. Not good. And at our appointment today, the clot has actually grown in size. This explains why I am looking so hugely pregnant this early though. In addition to 2 babies, a pregnancy only months after things got stretched out with Reagan, I now have an extra grapefruit in there trying to push my babies off the wall.

I am a terrible pregnant person. I have to keep reminding myself that people get pregnant without complications and delivery healthy babies 9 months later all the time. Not sure why I don't get to be one of those women though...

But God continues to carry us through. We got to see the little ones moving around today, scratching their faces or waving at us. And they continue to grow, perfectly measuring 9 weeks 5 days. It is just so hard to get attached again to know the odds are still not in our favor. To know the wrong move could cause the clot to shift and push the babies out. Who would have though a blood clot could be so powerful in the uterus? I just have to keep reminding myself that God is more powerful and He is in control. Because clearly I am not.

Moving Forward

The decision to take steps forward is a challenging one. Each time we allow ourselves some semblance of joy or talk of the future, there is a pang of guilt for not doing something for Reagan. All other mothers' lives revolve around their children after birth. And so it is hard when that is not clear in my life. If I let myself, I could stay in one place forever.

And so, with much prayer, we decided to take some forward steps. To look forward to something in our future. And so in January we did another transfer. Reagan healed my body of all the problems that kept me from getting pregnant. And we are pregnant! Twins! 9 weeks. God is so good to us and we cannot wait to be parents to children here.

But things have not been easy this time around either. And we desperately need prayers. I was hospitalized on Tuesday morning after 24 hours of uncontrolled bleeding and contractions. But these two precious little ones are hanging in there. We were told yesterday morning that my water had broke. At they point, they were not sure if it was one or both babies being lost. And so we prayed desperately for the one remaining. About an hour later they did an ultrasound to check on the miscarriage and the other baby and there were 2 heartbeats! Doctors have no explanation for how that is, but we still have 2 healthy babies. I am still in the hospital, still in pain, and still bleeding without cause. But God is holding our 2 little ones safe and healthy right now when we have been told there is nothing to do but wait. And so we wait and continue to pray for a miracle.

Moving on??

Everyone wants to know how we are doing, which I definitely appreciate being asked.  But the one thing I don't know how to respond to is when people say the phrase "move on."  Apparently it is now time that we "move on."  Our daughter left us 3 months ago.  That must be the amount of time we get.  It doesn't make me angry anymore, when people say things like that to me.  It just makes me sad.  And lonely.  I'd like to think that no matter how much time passes, I will never be expected to move on.  Because you never can.  How do you ever move on?

No, instead we are moving forward.  Sounds like a technicality but it is a huge difference.  Moving on implies forgetting, not looking back, not remembering.  Moving forward is taking steps toward the future while always remembering what our precious Reagan has taught us.  My whole life has changed forever - my goals, my values, my perspectives.  Nothing will ever be the same.  And yes, we continue to grieve for her.  We miss her desperately.  And some days, I still have to curl up in a ball and sob uncontrollably.  But we now live with hope.  We will see our Reagan again.  We'll spend a billion years plus with her, longer than we can comprehend.  We will absolutely miss her for the next 60 years while we live on earth, but that will seem like only seconds when viewed with eternity.

And so we move forward.  We are taking little steps toward allowing ourselves to feel happy again.  We try to laugh.  We try to do little things for ourselves or for others.  And sometimes I feel overwhelming guilt when I do have moments where I am enjoying something, because it just feels wrong.  It always feels wrong to be without our daughter.  We have had so much heartache and sorrow in the past year, and it is so hard to not get wrapped in that, to let myself feel again.  But we are trying.

Reagan would be 3 months old today.  Happy birthday little one.  I just pray that she will know how much we think about her on these days.  And know that we will never "move on" no matter how much time passes.

Standstill

Life seems to be circling round and round.  Almost every day of the week marks an anniversary - Tuesdays are so many weeks since we found out Reagan was gone, Wednesdays are so many weeks since she was born, Thursdays are so many weeks since we saw her for the last time.  And Saturdays are the days when I remember where she should be.  33 weeks today.  Instead, she is 11 weeks gone.  My whole life is a counting game now.  When does it end?   Every week I think of where we should be.  I look around and am constantly reminded of her and what I don't have.  Pain is so great.  And the moments of peace and comfort are still mixed in there, but some days it is still hard to breathe.  Some days we still break down and sob for our little girl and all we've lost.  My heart still aches, broken.

I don't write much anymore because I don't have much to share.  I have exploded with grief and shared what we have to look forward to.  And outside of that, what is there?  Things don't go according to plan (or I'd already have 2 children...) and yet I keep trying to plan.  I keep thinking I can control something in my life, and it just never quite works out the way I want.  Sigh...

Peace

Life is still hard.  All the time.  Every day I think of my daughter and what could have been, and I find myself potentially spiraling down into despair again.  It is so hard.  Time does not seem to make it easier.  And yet, as I start to draw back in and collapse, I am surrounded my encouragement.  I get a letter or note from someone else who is praying for us.  I get a vision of Reagan in heaven, so content and loved.  I see the beautiful painting Mom did that is hanging in our room.  Or I look at her picture in my office.  And when I think of Reagan, when I remember her life and where she is now, I am filled with peace, hope, and joy.  Our little girl is safe, not wanting for anything.  She never cried - not one time in her entire life did she shed a tear. And I can take peace in that.

I am learning how little I have trusted God in the past.  Yes, I said I was trying to trust Him.  But I never really did.  Maybe in my head, not in my heart.  I trusted in the doctors.  I trusted in my medical appointments.  I trusted in the drugs they used to keep me pregnant.  And through it all, I added in prayers that God would keep her safe.  But it was really more of an afterthought.  When we first lost Reagan, I thought I would never trust God again.  Because he had taken our daughter away from me.  But for some reason, I trust Him more.  I know I can't do anything to save our future children, our little freezer babies.  The doctors can't give me more medication or run more tests or do anything that will save them.  God has a plan that at the moment does not involve us being parents to children living on earth.  The desire in my heart to be a mother, to care for our children, is stronger now than before Reagan was born because I have just a glimpse of what it will be like.  And so we pray regularly that God will keep our freezer babies healthy and that one day we will get to hold healthy children, bring them home, watch them grow.  And until then, He is sustaining me with His grace and peace.  Because left unto my own, I am weak and crumble and could not get by.  I am learning to rely on God as His grace is sufficient for me.