Carrying

I've thought a lot my mothering role to our triplet and Baby B. Because of all the medical interventions, I knew I was a mother to them from the absolute earliest stage of life: since their conception. Such knowledge is a gift not many people have, and yet, it has also been the cause of a lot of heartache.

Anyway, I have deduced the following: it seems that my role as a mother to these two tiny lives was/is, quite simply, to carry them. No feeding, no rocking, no trips to the park. Only carrying. That was all there was to be for those two and me, their mother.

In my heart, I hope this carrying dignifies their lives in some way. How could we choose which one(s) to dispose of? Each of them mattered and deserved a chance at life, and I loved them with a mother's heart. And how could I not? They all attached to me, needed me, . .



Now, we have one who continues to depend on me for life, and yet, I'm still carrying all of them. And in a way, I will carry them with me forever.



I made a picture frame that will hang in our bedroom. It is a picture of how I choose to see Who is carrying them now. I would've loved to have framed a picture of me and Chris cradling these babies, but picturing them cradled in the loving arms of Christ is such a comfort . . .


I tried and tried to write a memorial to them based on this concept of carrying, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, I found a song written for someone else's baby in a totally different situation that captures the essence of how I mothered and will continue to mother these two in the coming months and years. The words that accompany it are from the song "I Will Carry You" by Selah.

I will carry you
While your heart beats here.
Long beyond the empty cradle
Through the coming years.
I will carry you
All my life.
And I will praise the One
Who's chosen me
To carry you.

The Bump

Here is what my belly looks like right now. In the past week, it (the bump) has become much more defined, though if I'm not wearing maternity clothes, I just look chubby. I'm thinking I need to get more maternity clothes. So here we are, 16 weeks in . . .

Here is what avocado-sized Baby looks like underneath my bump:

Apparently, Baby is gearing up for a growth spurt, which means I am gearing up for a growth spurt as well. Thankfully, I've been able to work out pretty regularly which does wonders for the psyche.

Anyway, that's all on the bump . . .

Movement

Today, I have been feeling signs of life: just a light fluttering, distinct yet gentle, like butterfly wings. I imagine Baby coming out of a nap and stretching and turning the way Noah used to when he was still a baby. I imagine Baby tapping gently as if to say, "I'm still here, Mommy!" The movement is so reassuring and reminds me that yes, I am pregnant. It's crazy, but I've actually had moments of, "Oh, yeah. I'm pregnant." The movement of this little one helps me to move forward--movement in the right direction.
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Before bedtime, we pray every night for "the baby on the way." Noah, every now and then, inquires, "Baby way?" (We're still working on forming complete prepositional phrases.) I tell him, "Yes, buddy. Mommy has a baby right here" and point to my belly. Well, today, at the Y while we were checking in and after he made sure he said a very energetic "HII!" to everyone around, Noah pointed to his belly and said quite loudly, "BABY!" People giggled, and I tried to explain quietly that he does not have a baby in his belly--only mommy does. I thought it was so ironic that God would use a two-year-old to force me to acknowledge the pregnancy in public, to face my fear. Movement in the right direction.
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Later on at home, he pointed to my belly and said, "Baby!" I said, "Yes, buddy. The baby is right there." He thought for a second or two and said, "Share trains!" I said, "You want to share your trains with the baby?" He gave the biggest smile and nodded his head yes. All I could do was smile and praise his enthusiasm about the baby and willingness to share his prized possessions. Again, I thought it was so funny how Noah's innocent enthusiasm moved me yet again in the right direction--toward enthusiasm and joy.

I can honestly say that Noah's excitement for this baby is a divine gift given to him because I can also honestly say that he did not pick up on it from me. Rather, I picked up some enthusiasm from him. What a sweet gift from my firstborn, from God . . .

Fear Itself

One of my best friends Ciona sent me a book in the mail that has been a great encouragement to me. It is entitled Birthed in Prayer: Pregnancy as a Spiritual Journey. I love this book for its honesty and for the joy and excitement it has about pregnancy in general. In all honesty, I have not had much joy and excitement about this pregnancy, and it is slowly helping me to uncover it . . . slowly . . .

One of the chapters deals with fear and the many fears that women experience during their pregnancies. The writers point to Jesus who did not shy away from fear: He gave His fear a voice, gave them to God honestly, and then moved forward in obedience.

So, friends, I'm going to give my fear a voice in hopes that I can continue to move forward. My mind knows that my fears are probably not going to materialize into reality, and I'm working and praying that the rest of me gets that memo. Anyway, here goes:

(1) I am afraid that I am not bonding with this baby and what that will mean for us after birth. I am afraid I won't love him as much as I love Noah. I'm afraid that somehow, my lack of enthusiasm is going to scar this little one for life.

(2) I am afraid of people asking me if I'm pregnant. I'm afraid of what my reaction will be and what I will say. I am afraid of coming across like a total freak for being blase about the pregnancy.

(3) On the flip side, I'm afraid to tell people I'm pregnant for many of the same reasons as #2. I know a lot of people at work know I'm pregnant even though I didn't tell them. Therefore, I have no idea who knows what, etc. (That's the joy of working in a small place!) Anyway, I noticed a lot of people awkwardly checking out my belly this week and asking a sympathetic, "So how are you?" I don't look that pregnant at all, but I struggle to say the words, "I'm pregnant . . . 15 weeks . . ."

(4) I am afraid to let go of my fear--for fear that as soon as I do, something terrible is going to happen.

So that's that. I'm so grateful for the Scriptures and the truth I can repeat to myself when my fear bubbles to the surface:

"So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."

Isaiah 41:10

AMEN!

Update on Duke Visit

Our Duke visit today was pretty uneventful. Baby B is still there, very much visible, though the amniotic sac around him/her is getting noticeably smaller. The doctor told us yet again that eventually it would absorb into the placenta. It was easier to see though still a downer. I'm trying to choose to not let it completely ruin the ultrasound experience . . .

Anyway, Baby A looks great according to the ultrasound tech and the doctor. We were able to see him/her swallowing amniotic fluid, wiggling, turning, etc. I still can't feel any of the movement--it's crazy to see all of that movement and not feel a thing! We have to go back there in four weeks for an anatomy scan, which will be ultrasound #6. Crazy--we only had three with Noah.

I'm still not showing much at all--I am little bit, though I think it just looks like a spare tire and that I'm putting on some weight. I'm finally feeling "normal" again, so yesterday and today I was able to work out and felt GREAT doing so. I'm so glad the first trimester is over!

Anyway, here is a picture of Baby A's profile. I think he/she kinda looks like Noah from the side, but Chris said he didn't see it . . . what do you think?

Duke Perinatal Visit

is tomorrow at 11 am. Still a bit nervous about, but I don't think I'm going to be able to approach an ultrsound with normalcy. I'll update tomorrow afternoon during Noah's naptime . . .

Road to Recovery, Part 2

Like I said in the last post, I feel like the "fog" of grief is starting to lift a bit. I'm still a little "gun-shy" with the remaining pregnancy, meaning I'm paranoid that something else is going to happen. I'm hoping the Duke Perinatal visit next week will help ease some of that and bring us to a firm place of joy. I'm still not "there" yet. Anyway, here are a few things that have helped the healing process along:



(1) I feel that we need to find a way to celebrate the life of Baby B other than by being sad. My sister suggested giving B a name, as there are plenty of names out there that work for both genders. I need to find some way to honor the life without feeling sad/depressed about it. If you have any suggestions, please comment or email me directly!

(2) My doctor from Duke called me. I know that may not sound like much help, but she was very kind about everything. She said that she heard the pregnancy had changed and wanted to check in with us. I was able to ask her about IVF having higher rates of miscarriage, and she said that because of our specific situation, she wouldn't have expected this to happen. Yes, in certain types of fertility problems, miscarriage is more frequent, but not in our situation. It helps to have answers that make sense, even if the answer is that this was just an unexpected "fluke" to our doctor. It also helped me not feel so betrayed that we weren't warned that this was more likely to happen to us because of the IVF.


(3) My friend Jana, who lost two pregnancies, sent me a book entitled When God Lets You Down. I didn't realize it, but that's exactly the sentiment I felt--that God had somehow let me down. After all, didn't we try to do everything right with this whole process? Here is the main truth presented in the book truth that transformed how I view this situation:


The apostle Paul, a man totally devoted to Christ, suffered. Acts 27 and 28 tell the story of Paul, who thought he was on his way to Rome. They encounter a storm, are lost at sea without food for about two weeks, and are shipwrecked on an island on which Paul is bit by a poisonious snake. Paul's suffering landed him exactly where God wanted him to be, not neccessarily where Paul thought he should be or even wanted to be. We can also see that clearly in the life of Christ--suffering led to Jesus completing the will of God.

I don't know where this loss is going to take us, but I'm starting to see now that it is a piece of the puzzle that will lead us exactly where we are supposed to be to complete the plan God has for us. Maybe it is to prepare me to help someone else the way Jana helped me. Maybe it will help me be a better mom to the children we are given. Who knows other than God? But I must learn to trust the process the way that Paul and Jesus and many others did.

So that's kind of where I/we are with things right now. This is, by far, one of the hardest things I've faced in my life, but know that this, too, will work together for our good . . .