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.

Perspective

Okay, as I take a few steps back from my emotional breakdown on Wednesday, I have learned an important lesson.  Though writing helps me to heal and makes me feels as though I am doing something to calm myself, I should maybe wait just a few minutes before I explode publicly.  Everything I wrote was exactly what I was feeling at that point, but not how I feel all the time.  I have a tendency to write when things seem full of hope and promise, so I can share that hope with others and let them find encouragement with Reagan's life.  OR, I write when I am so consumed by my own grief that I feel like I can't go on, that I am being swallowed up.  That was where I was on Wednesday, and a few more days of peace following has helped me to move toward becoming whole again.

Christmas - yes, still not a fan.  But it's the worldly side of Christmas we are hating.  When the one gift we want, Reagan, no one can give back to us.  When I walk through the stores and see all the little pink clothes, "Baby's first Christmas" frames and ornaments, and people walking with strollers.  I long to be that person, to be out getting all these things for my daughter.  That is not possible, because she is gone.  BUT, I do still want to celebrate the true meaning of Christmas.  Because Christ came to Earth and was born, He followed God's ultimate plan and died.  Died for us, so that Reagan could be in Heaven with Him.  And without his birth, we would really have no hope.  So I am back to focusing on that, on Reagan in heaven.  Trying to figure out what she is doing, if she is watching us or praying for us, if she is having so much fun with Samuel running around.  I wonder if they celebrate Christmas up there?  Anything special to celebrate the birth of our Savior?

So thank you, to everyone who has prayed for us since Wednesday.  Your prayers have been felt as God has once again wrapped himself around me to bring me a sense of peace which can only be from up above.  Circumstances have not changed in these past few days, perspective has.  And I pray that I can stay on this side for longer and longer time periods before becoming overcome again and losing sight of the fact that Reagan is happy and healthy and loved.  And as a parent, when I think of only her, what more can I ask for?

Depressed and Forgotten

I can't do it anymore.  I can't be that strong person who is trusting that God is good and focusing on heaven. Last week, I was that person.  I was able to focus on that and dream about our future, overlooking the present pain.  Today, the present pain is all consuming.  I am drowning in my grief.  I can't take it anymore.  This is too much for any person to handle.  I can't wrap my head around it, can't understand the why.  WHY??  I want to scream that at the top of my lungs, but it won't help.  Nothing will.  I feel so empty.  And I hate Christmas, HATE Christmas.  I don't feel merry.  I don't feel thankful.  I don't feel blessed.  And I'm tired of hearing about the people who are.  I am crumbling as my heart continues to shatter.  And instead of it getting better, when the grief hits it is so much worse.  My baby girl is gone.  Gone forever.  I will not get to raise her, or see her as a baby, or see her have babies.  I am missing so much.  And I just want her back.  I would do anything to have her back.

My birthday next week is just another painful reminder.  I should have celebrated with a child several birthdays ago.  But God had different plans for me, and I came to terms with that.  But this was the year.  This was the year I was going to celebrate my last birthday before I became a mom.  Before I started getting a collection of homemade cards and cheap gifts with handprints on them that I absolutely loved.  And now it is another year gone by with me being barren.  Empty.  Broken. I hate my birthday.  It was not supposed to be like this, it's not.

I don't get to grieve the way I could at the beginning.  I can't just take a moment for myself to be sad during the day.  I can't randomly tear up with patients while treating them.  I can't break down and sob at lunch. Because Reagan has been forgotten.  Not by us, as both Andrew and I agreed things are only getting harder.  But by everyone else.  No one asks about her anymore.  No one wants to hear about her little face or our time together.  I don't want to be distracted.  I don't want you to tell me that it is going to be okay.  Because it will never be okay, never again.  And maybe I can punch the next person who tells me that the reason it is okay is because I still have more time, I can always have another one.  Like that is somehow going to replace my daughter?  If anyone said that of the families who lost children in last week's shooting, we would be disgusted and appalled.  But Reagan was just as much my daughter, even though she wasn't born.  I watched her kick.  I watched her smile.  I watched her wave at me.  And in those early moments, I planned for our entire future.  And I fell in love.  I am learning time will never diminish the pain.  Another child will never diminish the pain.  I am going to have to live with this the rest of my life.

So Andrew and I are researching new places we can move where we won't be constantly reminded of what we don't have, where we won't see all the babies who Reagan would have gone to school with.  I don't want to see my neighborhood pool where I had planned on taking her next year.  I don't want to jog around the parks where I had planned on using my jogging stroller.  There are too many painful memories everywhere.  Too many opportunities for me to break down, which I have done with surprising consistency for the past several days.  Right now we're thinking Singapore.  It's actually a beautiful country.  And as far away from here as we can get.  Now, just to save up a little more money to buy the plane tickets, find some jobs, and we'll be all set