Each year, at the start of the year, I think about what I would like to achieve by the end of the year - what my goals for the year are. It is something we used to be encouraged to do in our church small group and it is something that I have carried on doing. I have looked over my goals for the past few years and have thought about what they have meant to me. I am definitely an 'achiever'; I am determined (my friends might say 'stubborn') and like to see things finished well (my friends might say 'obsessive'). I rarely reach the end of a year without accomplishing my goals - or at least being well on my way to accomplishing them. But the past 3 years have seen a new goal work it's way on to my list. 'Get pregnant/have a baby' have been interspersed with my other goals. At the start of 2011 I noticed that my other goals were becoming less and 'baby' was at the top of my list. At the start of this year there were no other goals. Simply 'have a baby'.
There was one occasion last year and two occasions this year in which I thought I would achieve my goal, my dream, but one ended in a stillbirth and two ended in early miscarriage. Throughout the year I have seen my desire for a baby not diminish, by any stretch of the imagination, but begin to be matched by old goals, old passions and old desires. I am seeing things that I had buried with my overwhelming desire for a baby being brought to the surface, raised to life and set alight again.
At the start of this year, a prophetic word was given at my Church. You can read all about it here:
http://www.daveconnolly.org/2012/02/a-word-of-encouragement/
I have referred back to this blog post many times throughout the year with differing emotions. At times it has spurred me on and at other times it has made me yell at God 'where is my reward?'. I have spoke it over myself time and time again. After all, I am a member of the Church - the word related to me too, right?
As I sat in tears in the hospital at the time of my second miscarriage, waiting for the doctors to decide whether I needed to be admitted for what they thought was an ectopic pregnancy, I begged God to get my out of the situation. I bargained with him saying that if my baby was alive I would use the situation to glorify Him. I promised. And then the scan revealed that the baby was dead. Again. I felt deflated. Back in the cubicle I prayed again that God would show me how to get out of the situation that I was in. I told Him that I couldn't do it anymore. I asked Him to take it from me and, for the first time, I gave the situation to Him. I handed Him my desire for a baby and asked that He would show me what to do. Almost instantly a burden was lifted from me and over the next few days I saw my passion for fostering increase ten fold. I knew that that needed to take priority. I used to work with parents, delivering adult learning and providing support to help prevent family break up, and that passion was fired up again.
I'd like to say that that was it; that the desire went - that I gave it to God every day since but that would be a lie. There have been days, sometimes many days, since when I have felt myself slip back into that place of despair. I have needed my friends more than ever to keep my going - to remind me of how far I've come. I have cried many tears and willed my body to slip out of infertility and work as it should and then after the wave I'm ok again. But in these months the two things that have remained as really strong desires within me are the fostering and working with parents. I am beginning to relearn who I am.
And so, back to Dave's blog. I have been reading it again over the past few days and these words are going over and over in my head:
‘I have seen your perseverance,
I have seen your standing in the time of trial,
I have seen your standing in the firing line of the enemy,
I have seen you when you’ve just been holding on and just hanging in there,
I have seen your wading through the quagmire,
I have seen your faithfulness and your diligence,
I have seen you holding on to the word of God when your circumstances seem to laugh in your face,
But now I say to you,
My son, My daughter,
My church of Frontline -
But you, be strong and do not lose courage, for there is reward for your work.
2012 is the year of reward........
I would love a baby. I really would, but that is not the reward that God has chosen for me this year and there are moments when that thought is beyond painful. But He has given me another reward. He has begun to restore me and help me become the person he has designed me to be, again.
My husband and I have been approved as foster carers within the last couple of weeks and were told today that we have been assigned a social worker and to expect our first placement early in the new year. I have just completed training to facilitate parenting courses and am so excited about it. I can't wait to begin working with parents again and seeing lives transformed.
I had no goals at the start of this year, apart from wanting a baby. God has gently shown me that he has a purpose for me, other than just being a mummy to my own children. Inspite of my stubbornness he has provided opportunities for me to see new goals, new desires and new dreams. I really believe that this is my reward. And I will try and wait patiently for my own baby to come.
Please God, help me to see what you have done for me this year and how far you have brought me. Help me to know that my plans don't always coincide with your plans for me and that that's ok. Help me to know that you have a plan and a purpose for my life - a reward for me - and help me to trust you. Amen.
What is your reward??
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Friday, 21 December 2012
Sunday, 9 December 2012
Saturday, 1 December 2012
A New Chapter?
I've been building up to writing this post all week. I'm trying my best to answer questions - questions of our own and questions of people around us. With our fostering assessment nearly complete and our fostering panel approaching I'm trying to work out what the priorities are in our lives now.
Nearly three years ago a heavily pregnant lady asked me if, as a childminder, I would be able to look after her unborn baby when she returned to work. I explained that, at that time, I had no vacancies as a childminder but that I had a waiting list and would add her to it. I also explained that we were wanting to have another baby and, if that happened before she returned to work, that would need to take priority. I advised her that, although I would love to care for her little boy, I felt that due to my waiting list and our plans she may be better considering other childcare options. That is my marker for the beginning of the chapter in our lives we have been living in recently. I need to allow the page to turn and a new chapter to begin.
I know that, physically, the chances of us having another baby are incredibly slim simply from an infertility/PCOS point of view but when I factor in all of the problems I have in pregnancy and my inability to carry to term I realise that the chances seem next to nothing. This makes me wonder why I cling to it and why I struggle to move on. The other day a friend encouraged me to look back over the past year and see how far I have come. Apart from the grief and pain and how far we've come from that perspective I know that this time last year the desire for another baby was overwhelming. It filled my every waking and sleeping moment and dominated my life. I set myself deadlines for pregnancy and when those deadlines weren't met I would regress to a point of uncontrollable grief. A year on and I'd be lying if I said I didn't want another baby. I still think about it - a lot. I still dream about it - I can't control my dreams - but they are becoming less suffocating. I need to take stock and look at my life. It has been on hold for the past three years or so. A constant stream of hospital appointments, investigations, waiting and disappointment. And, apart from the improvement in our emotional well being, physically we are no further forward. We're three years older and our son is growing up infront of our eyes. I don't want to miss any more of what God has in store for us because I'm waiting and pinning all my hopes on something that may never happen. That said, I am not willing to let go of that dream - I just need to start a new chapter.
So that brings me to what is taking priority in our lives at the moment - the fostering. For the past seven years it is something we have spoken about on a regular basis. I have worked with Looked After Children and 'at risk' children and have desperately wanted to make a difference to many children's lives. Apart from a moment of panic when Emilie died, adoption has never come in to the plan. I am often asked why we want to foster over adoption and to be completely honest I don't know if there is an answer. I know that we can't pin things on 'a feeling' or a 'gut instinct' but this is truely what we feel is right for us. I am not naive - I know that the children we look after will not be our children. They will be heading back home or to their adoptive families and at some point we will have to give them up. How we will find the strength to do that I don't know but I know that it is the right thing for us at the moment. I often think about how amazing it will be to have played a part in influencing that child's life. In supporting them in making that transition to their final point of care. In keeping them safe when that may not be something they have experienced. And if I know that we have done all of this to our best ability then giving that child up so that they can continue to their next chapter will be something that I know we will be able to do. Not without pain but with the knowledge that that child will be moving forward and that we will have played a part in changing their lives for the better.
This is what is taking priority at the moment. This will hopefully be our new chapter and if we are deferred at panel we will return at the advised time and try again. I don't know what will happen if I get pregnant again. All I know is that fostering is our long term goal as a family - with or without more children of our own. I'm looking forward and trying hard to trust that God is in control. I can try to control things as much as I like but untimely it is not for me to do. The answer to the question is we feel that fostering is what we should be doing now and long term and we're not willing to put our lives on hold for that 'what ifs' any longer.
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Nearly three years ago a heavily pregnant lady asked me if, as a childminder, I would be able to look after her unborn baby when she returned to work. I explained that, at that time, I had no vacancies as a childminder but that I had a waiting list and would add her to it. I also explained that we were wanting to have another baby and, if that happened before she returned to work, that would need to take priority. I advised her that, although I would love to care for her little boy, I felt that due to my waiting list and our plans she may be better considering other childcare options. That is my marker for the beginning of the chapter in our lives we have been living in recently. I need to allow the page to turn and a new chapter to begin.
I know that, physically, the chances of us having another baby are incredibly slim simply from an infertility/PCOS point of view but when I factor in all of the problems I have in pregnancy and my inability to carry to term I realise that the chances seem next to nothing. This makes me wonder why I cling to it and why I struggle to move on. The other day a friend encouraged me to look back over the past year and see how far I have come. Apart from the grief and pain and how far we've come from that perspective I know that this time last year the desire for another baby was overwhelming. It filled my every waking and sleeping moment and dominated my life. I set myself deadlines for pregnancy and when those deadlines weren't met I would regress to a point of uncontrollable grief. A year on and I'd be lying if I said I didn't want another baby. I still think about it - a lot. I still dream about it - I can't control my dreams - but they are becoming less suffocating. I need to take stock and look at my life. It has been on hold for the past three years or so. A constant stream of hospital appointments, investigations, waiting and disappointment. And, apart from the improvement in our emotional well being, physically we are no further forward. We're three years older and our son is growing up infront of our eyes. I don't want to miss any more of what God has in store for us because I'm waiting and pinning all my hopes on something that may never happen. That said, I am not willing to let go of that dream - I just need to start a new chapter.
So that brings me to what is taking priority in our lives at the moment - the fostering. For the past seven years it is something we have spoken about on a regular basis. I have worked with Looked After Children and 'at risk' children and have desperately wanted to make a difference to many children's lives. Apart from a moment of panic when Emilie died, adoption has never come in to the plan. I am often asked why we want to foster over adoption and to be completely honest I don't know if there is an answer. I know that we can't pin things on 'a feeling' or a 'gut instinct' but this is truely what we feel is right for us. I am not naive - I know that the children we look after will not be our children. They will be heading back home or to their adoptive families and at some point we will have to give them up. How we will find the strength to do that I don't know but I know that it is the right thing for us at the moment. I often think about how amazing it will be to have played a part in influencing that child's life. In supporting them in making that transition to their final point of care. In keeping them safe when that may not be something they have experienced. And if I know that we have done all of this to our best ability then giving that child up so that they can continue to their next chapter will be something that I know we will be able to do. Not without pain but with the knowledge that that child will be moving forward and that we will have played a part in changing their lives for the better.
This is what is taking priority at the moment. This will hopefully be our new chapter and if we are deferred at panel we will return at the advised time and try again. I don't know what will happen if I get pregnant again. All I know is that fostering is our long term goal as a family - with or without more children of our own. I'm looking forward and trying hard to trust that God is in control. I can try to control things as much as I like but untimely it is not for me to do. The answer to the question is we feel that fostering is what we should be doing now and long term and we're not willing to put our lives on hold for that 'what ifs' any longer.
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Wednesday, 14 November 2012
My path
I've been feeling quite overwhelmed recently by the inexorable passing of time. Weeks are flying by and merging into months and babies are being born left, right and centre. And here I am still suffering from amenorrhea - the absence of menstrual periods and, as a result, the absence of ovulation which, obviously, is what is needed for pregnancy. I feel ok about it. Today. Last week was hard. No two days are the same, I find, and some days I am much more able to deal with things than others. I'm starting to get my head around the possibility of never having another baby. Of never experiencing pregnancy again. I can't accept this - I would love another baby and would be lying if I said I wouldn't. However, if I live every day focussing on the fact that I may or may not get pregnant I could possibly lose my
mind. For me to isn't even 'month after month' of disappointment. Instead it is a constant state of waiting and hoping that something might happen and, as it happens, I haven't experienced 'unstimulated ovulation' - ovulation without medication - for nearly a year. It's scary when I say it like that. So I sometimes wonder what is the point of hoping any more? But then I was reminded of a story at Church on Sunday. The story is of Abraham and Sarah. They were childless and old (very old!) and Sarah was infertile yet God had told Abraham that he would be the father of many nations. Impossible, when they had no children.
One day they were visited by three people who told Abraham that they would return this time the following year and Sarah would have a son. Abraham and Sarah thought this was impossible. Sarah even laughed at how ridiculous it sounded. They had tried to solve the problem themselves prior to this and Abraham had had a son with Sarah's servant - but this had caused them further problems. Now here they both were, incredibly old, and being told that they would have a son. I can't imagine how that must have felt. And sure enough, against the odds, Sarah became pregnant and had a son - Isaac.
I think about women who've come before me who have experienced infertility and baby/infant loss and how difficult it must have been for them to watch person after person announce pregnancies when they remained childless. I wonder how it must feel when they finally come out of that position of infertility and loss and finally have their baby. I don't know if this is something I will ever experience. I do know, however, that other doors are opening for me. I don't know if we'll be approved for foster care at this time or not, but I know that we both feel very strongly that it is something we should be perusing at the moment.
This week a friend quoted a verse from the following passage on Facebook:
John 18 "Very truly I tell you, when you were younger you dressed yourself and went where you wanted; but when you are old you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go.” 19 Jesus said this to indicate the kind of death by which Peter would glorify God. Then he said to him, “Follow me!”
20 Peter turned and saw that the disciple whom Jesus loved was following them. (This was the one who had leaned back against Jesus at the supper and had said, “Lord, who is going to betray you?”) 21 When Peter saw him, he asked, “Lord, what about him?”
22 Jesus answered, “If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you? You must follow me.”
It is a passage that was used in a conference talk that I attended earlier this year. I have spoken with friends about it a number of times since. I'm not sure what feelings this evokes in me; It makes me quite emotional every time I hear or read it.
There was a time, not so long ago, that I felt life was a lottery system. That God would dole out good things to some people and pain to others and I even questioned what I had done to deserve the pain. There are still times when I get angry. When I wonder why I have to endure this every single day but there hasn't been a time that I haven't felt God's presence in the situation. I know that this path is hard and I sometimes hate it but it is my path. Putting it simply, I have learnt the hard way that there is nothing to be gained from trying to follow a path that isn't meant for me. When I think about the months upon months that I have stressed about getting pregnant it now seems ridiculous to me. I knew that I suffered from infertility and have known for years yet I treated myself like someone who didn't, expecting to fall pregnant quickly and easily and then becoming angry at myself and at God when I didn't. Yet I carried on with this frame of mind. I can see now that this wasn't the right thing to do - the right thing for me. Yes, I still want a baby. Yes, there are still some days when it is all I can think about, but those days are becoming less. I have my own path to follow and at the moment I feel that this path involves foster care. I don't know if I will ever fall pregnant again - and even if I do, with the problems I have there are no guarantees that I will have a baby at the end of it. I am gradually learning that obsessing, comparing, worrying and reading up on the problems I have will change none of this. God knows what the desire of my heart is and I need to learn to trust him and follow my own path.
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mind. For me to isn't even 'month after month' of disappointment. Instead it is a constant state of waiting and hoping that something might happen and, as it happens, I haven't experienced 'unstimulated ovulation' - ovulation without medication - for nearly a year. It's scary when I say it like that. So I sometimes wonder what is the point of hoping any more? But then I was reminded of a story at Church on Sunday. The story is of Abraham and Sarah. They were childless and old (very old!) and Sarah was infertile yet God had told Abraham that he would be the father of many nations. Impossible, when they had no children.
One day they were visited by three people who told Abraham that they would return this time the following year and Sarah would have a son. Abraham and Sarah thought this was impossible. Sarah even laughed at how ridiculous it sounded. They had tried to solve the problem themselves prior to this and Abraham had had a son with Sarah's servant - but this had caused them further problems. Now here they both were, incredibly old, and being told that they would have a son. I can't imagine how that must have felt. And sure enough, against the odds, Sarah became pregnant and had a son - Isaac.
I think about women who've come before me who have experienced infertility and baby/infant loss and how difficult it must have been for them to watch person after person announce pregnancies when they remained childless. I wonder how it must feel when they finally come out of that position of infertility and loss and finally have their baby. I don't know if this is something I will ever experience. I do know, however, that other doors are opening for me. I don't know if we'll be approved for foster care at this time or not, but I know that we both feel very strongly that it is something we should be perusing at the moment.
This week a friend quoted a verse from the following passage on Facebook:
John 18 "Very truly I tell you, when you were younger you dressed yourself and went where you wanted; but when you are old you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go.” 19 Jesus said this to indicate the kind of death by which Peter would glorify God. Then he said to him, “Follow me!”
20 Peter turned and saw that the disciple whom Jesus loved was following them. (This was the one who had leaned back against Jesus at the supper and had said, “Lord, who is going to betray you?”) 21 When Peter saw him, he asked, “Lord, what about him?”
22 Jesus answered, “If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you? You must follow me.”
It is a passage that was used in a conference talk that I attended earlier this year. I have spoken with friends about it a number of times since. I'm not sure what feelings this evokes in me; It makes me quite emotional every time I hear or read it.
There was a time, not so long ago, that I felt life was a lottery system. That God would dole out good things to some people and pain to others and I even questioned what I had done to deserve the pain. There are still times when I get angry. When I wonder why I have to endure this every single day but there hasn't been a time that I haven't felt God's presence in the situation. I know that this path is hard and I sometimes hate it but it is my path. Putting it simply, I have learnt the hard way that there is nothing to be gained from trying to follow a path that isn't meant for me. When I think about the months upon months that I have stressed about getting pregnant it now seems ridiculous to me. I knew that I suffered from infertility and have known for years yet I treated myself like someone who didn't, expecting to fall pregnant quickly and easily and then becoming angry at myself and at God when I didn't. Yet I carried on with this frame of mind. I can see now that this wasn't the right thing to do - the right thing for me. Yes, I still want a baby. Yes, there are still some days when it is all I can think about, but those days are becoming less. I have my own path to follow and at the moment I feel that this path involves foster care. I don't know if I will ever fall pregnant again - and even if I do, with the problems I have there are no guarantees that I will have a baby at the end of it. I am gradually learning that obsessing, comparing, worrying and reading up on the problems I have will change none of this. God knows what the desire of my heart is and I need to learn to trust him and follow my own path.
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Saturday, 20 October 2012
Rainbow breaking through...
On Sunday I taught at our church's Kidzone - like Sunday School. We started a new topic; 'Heroes of Faith' and I taught on Noah. All week Sam has been asking about Noah. He has a couple of Noah's ark toys and so learning about Noah has got his attention! He has been asking alot of questions about the significance of the rainbow. It had fascinated him and there's no doubt in his mind that God keeps his promises and the rainbow is a symbol of that.
Fast forward 30 years or so - do I still have that childlike faith? Possibly not. I've been struggling the past week or so but am starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel now. I'm finding that the times of real struggling are getting fewer and further between and are easier to recover from, but they still hurt. Sam's asking about the significance of the rainbow has got me thinking. There are times when I feel that God doesn't keep his promises because here I am suffering from infertility and having lost three babies in the space of a year, and missing my beautiful Emilie. But then I remember that God's promise was never that I wouldn't suffer - it was that in my suffering I would know that he is near. This is one of my favourite verses: 'When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you.' (Isaiah 43:2) and I can list many verses that promise me the same thing:
Deuteronomy 31:6 Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.";
Psalm 23:4 'Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.';
Isaiah 41:10 '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.'..... And the list goes on.
I can honestly say that I truly believe that God has kept these promises and know that, inspite of how dark things have got, he has been the one constant throughout all of this. There is a term 'rainbow baby' which refers to babies born after a stillbirth. For me the symbol of the rainbow has another meaning. Like the people in Noah's time and Sam with his childlike faith, the rainbow reminds me that no matter what, God is holding on to me and won't let me go.
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Thursday, 11 October 2012
.....and weep with those who weep....
Romans 12:15 (NLT)
Be happy with those who are happy, and weep with those who weep.......
This is a difficult post to write but something that I feel I need to share. Anyone who has experienced any form of infertility and/or pregnancy/infant loss will be aware of the term 'marker baby'. A marker baby is a baby due or born at the same time as your baby was due/born or your IVF/IUI procedure baby was due. I have many marker babies for Emilie and marker babies for my first miscarriage who have just been born or are due imminently and I adore them. Don't get me wrong, it was initially very hard, but in time and with the support of my friends I was able to bond with and enjoy these babies. The support aspect is vital though. There is no way someone can experience infant loss, or pregnancy loss, and be instantly truly happy and accepting of other peoples situations if the news is not shared in a sensitive manner or if the truth is blurred. There are now marker babies for my second miscarriage growing and developing and there is a very selfish part of me that wishes it was me. Seem good friends of ours are expecting a baby at the same time as I was and they came to dinner to tell us the news. I could tell that it was hard for them to tell us. My friend wrote me a letter - which I treasure - talking about how much she valued our friendship but understood if we need space at any point. Over the past year they have truly wept with us and have sat in the dust with us as we experience the pain. We are able to rejoice in their news with them and, even though there may be difficult times to come, we know that our friendship will survive this.
Each time someone announces a pregnancy I feel a real need to rejoice with them and have started to even feel that this is my duty as a Christian. I think that this is a dangerous place to be. I was reading Roman's 12:15 and there it is, written down for me: "rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep". I have found rejoicing very hard over the past year but have tried my best, as have our friends tried to weep with us.
I often think the rejoicing is easy, isn't it? If people around you are happy their happiness rubs off on you. It's infectious. In the same way if people are grief stricken their sadness can rub off on you too. It's an uncomfortable feeling and the natural thing to do is to want to get away from that grief. Why, after all, would you want to feel that way? I know that our friends have stepped out of their comfort zone to weep with us even though it is uncomfortable for them. For this I am so grateful.
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Be happy with those who are happy, and weep with those who weep.......
This is a difficult post to write but something that I feel I need to share. Anyone who has experienced any form of infertility and/or pregnancy/infant loss will be aware of the term 'marker baby'. A marker baby is a baby due or born at the same time as your baby was due/born or your IVF/IUI procedure baby was due. I have many marker babies for Emilie and marker babies for my first miscarriage who have just been born or are due imminently and I adore them. Don't get me wrong, it was initially very hard, but in time and with the support of my friends I was able to bond with and enjoy these babies. The support aspect is vital though. There is no way someone can experience infant loss, or pregnancy loss, and be instantly truly happy and accepting of other peoples situations if the news is not shared in a sensitive manner or if the truth is blurred. There are now marker babies for my second miscarriage growing and developing and there is a very selfish part of me that wishes it was me. Seem good friends of ours are expecting a baby at the same time as I was and they came to dinner to tell us the news. I could tell that it was hard for them to tell us. My friend wrote me a letter - which I treasure - talking about how much she valued our friendship but understood if we need space at any point. Over the past year they have truly wept with us and have sat in the dust with us as we experience the pain. We are able to rejoice in their news with them and, even though there may be difficult times to come, we know that our friendship will survive this.
Each time someone announces a pregnancy I feel a real need to rejoice with them and have started to even feel that this is my duty as a Christian. I think that this is a dangerous place to be. I was reading Roman's 12:15 and there it is, written down for me: "rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep". I have found rejoicing very hard over the past year but have tried my best, as have our friends tried to weep with us.
I often think the rejoicing is easy, isn't it? If people around you are happy their happiness rubs off on you. It's infectious. In the same way if people are grief stricken their sadness can rub off on you too. It's an uncomfortable feeling and the natural thing to do is to want to get away from that grief. Why, after all, would you want to feel that way? I know that our friends have stepped out of their comfort zone to weep with us even though it is uncomfortable for them. For this I am so grateful.
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Thursday, 20 September 2012
Autumn
Autumn is my absolute favourite season. I love the weather, the colours, being able to wear my boots, going out for walks, the evenings drawing in and autumn TV schedules! This year I've felt a sense of emptiness as autumn draws in and it's dawned on me why today. I love this time of year and remember taking Sam out conker hunting this time last year. This week actually and possibly even this day. I was so tired and run down that I drove the short distance needed to find conkers and didn't stay long but he loved it. It is one of my last memories of doing something nice before Emilie died.
This week, on the way home from school, we noticed empty conker shells along the road and my heart physically hurt. I felt like I couldn't take any joy in the beautiful colours around us and the excitement of autumn activities. For the first time in memory I felt like staying indoors and ignoring autumn as it creeps towards us. And then I spent some time reflecting this afternoon....
Emilie's birthday is now less than a week away. I'm trying to call it her birthday as the word 'anniversary' seems so formal. She was born - she had a birth-day and we have decided that we'd like to celebrate. We are going away as a family for the week and I have bought ingredients to make a yummy cake. Sam has asked to make a card. And why shouldn't we celebrate? We had so many hopes and dreams for her and even though we don't get to see her achieve them she was still our daughter - she still brought joy into our lives - and we don't want the day to go by without remembering that.
Because of Emilie we have learnt what is important and spend more time together as a family. We have learnt who our friends are and have developed and built on some amazing friendships over the past year. We have learnt a lot about ourselves and have realised that our marriage, and each other as individuals, are a lot stronger than we could have imagined. Most of all, though, I think that we have learnt to appreciate what we have and in all honesty that's possibly only happened fully since the last miscarriage. I thought that miscarrying so close to Emilie's anniversary would finish us off but instead we've come back fighting, stronger than ever and ready to move on with our lives.
So, back to autumn. I think that this time of year is always going to evoke painful memories but I don't think there is a more beautiful time of year to remember our daughter. There is a temptation to see autumn as a time of hopelessness with only a long, cold winter to look forward to and I think that's where I was earlier this week. But I stumbled across this quote this afternoon: "IN AUTUMN'S vibrant colors there are reminders of summer's fullness of life , of winter's impending bleakness, and of the prospect of spring not far beyond. Autumn compels us to think about life's transience and continuity all in one..." (Allen M. Young, Small Creatures and Ordinary Places). Since Emilie's death, one of the things I've found the hardest is how quickly life seems to go by, how we seem to have been in a constant state of pain and how other people's lives have whizzed by around us. This is always going to be a difficult thing for us, I think, but I have realised that we can't stay in this place of grief and waiting forever. Life continues and so do we need to. Maybe our time to solely mourn has passed (although we will always desperately miss Emilie and nothing will replace her) and now we are entering a new season and a new time with new challenges and new rewards...
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 (NLT)
For everything there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven.
A time to be born and a time to die.
A time to plant and a time to harvest.
A time to kill and a time to heal.
A time to tear down and a time to build up.
A time to cry and a time to laugh.
A time to grieve and a time to dance.
A time to scatter stones and a time to gather stones.
A time to embrace and a time to turn away.
A time to search and a time to quit searching.
A time to keep and a time to throw away.
A time to tear and a time to mend.
A time to be quiet and a time to speak.
A time to love and a time to hate.
A time for war and a time for peace.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
This week, on the way home from school, we noticed empty conker shells along the road and my heart physically hurt. I felt like I couldn't take any joy in the beautiful colours around us and the excitement of autumn activities. For the first time in memory I felt like staying indoors and ignoring autumn as it creeps towards us. And then I spent some time reflecting this afternoon....
Emilie's birthday is now less than a week away. I'm trying to call it her birthday as the word 'anniversary' seems so formal. She was born - she had a birth-day and we have decided that we'd like to celebrate. We are going away as a family for the week and I have bought ingredients to make a yummy cake. Sam has asked to make a card. And why shouldn't we celebrate? We had so many hopes and dreams for her and even though we don't get to see her achieve them she was still our daughter - she still brought joy into our lives - and we don't want the day to go by without remembering that.
Because of Emilie we have learnt what is important and spend more time together as a family. We have learnt who our friends are and have developed and built on some amazing friendships over the past year. We have learnt a lot about ourselves and have realised that our marriage, and each other as individuals, are a lot stronger than we could have imagined. Most of all, though, I think that we have learnt to appreciate what we have and in all honesty that's possibly only happened fully since the last miscarriage. I thought that miscarrying so close to Emilie's anniversary would finish us off but instead we've come back fighting, stronger than ever and ready to move on with our lives.
So, back to autumn. I think that this time of year is always going to evoke painful memories but I don't think there is a more beautiful time of year to remember our daughter. There is a temptation to see autumn as a time of hopelessness with only a long, cold winter to look forward to and I think that's where I was earlier this week. But I stumbled across this quote this afternoon: "IN AUTUMN'S vibrant colors there are reminders of summer's fullness of life , of winter's impending bleakness, and of the prospect of spring not far beyond. Autumn compels us to think about life's transience and continuity all in one..." (Allen M. Young, Small Creatures and Ordinary Places). Since Emilie's death, one of the things I've found the hardest is how quickly life seems to go by, how we seem to have been in a constant state of pain and how other people's lives have whizzed by around us. This is always going to be a difficult thing for us, I think, but I have realised that we can't stay in this place of grief and waiting forever. Life continues and so do we need to. Maybe our time to solely mourn has passed (although we will always desperately miss Emilie and nothing will replace her) and now we are entering a new season and a new time with new challenges and new rewards...
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 (NLT)
For everything there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven.
A time to be born and a time to die.
A time to plant and a time to harvest.
A time to kill and a time to heal.
A time to tear down and a time to build up.
A time to cry and a time to laugh.
A time to grieve and a time to dance.
A time to scatter stones and a time to gather stones.
A time to embrace and a time to turn away.
A time to search and a time to quit searching.
A time to keep and a time to throw away.
A time to tear and a time to mend.
A time to be quiet and a time to speak.
A time to love and a time to hate.
A time for war and a time for peace.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Wednesday, 5 September 2012
Another day - another miscarriage...
Well, it's been a while since I posted on here. The reason for this is that I found out my IUI had worked but didn't want to 'go public'. We were elated. It seemed like such perfect timing - just in time for my miscarriage due date and Emilie's anniversary in a couple of weeks. It separated this pregnancy from my other losses perfectly and seemed to be making the (difficult) month of September more bearable. Things seemed to be going well; I could feel myself growing and I felt sick and exhausted. Beyond exhausted actually. And then the bleeding started. Again.
I tried to ride it out and wait until my scan appointment next week but the pain became so bad that I couldn't ignore it and had to go to the EPAU.
I cried uncontrollably and the medical professionals filled up with me as they prodded my stomach, noted the amount of pain I was in, noted the amount of blood around my cervix and the fact that my cervix was open - and swollen. They then began to act very quickly due to the risk of ectopic pregnancy. I was told I'd be admitted until I could be scanned but thankfully an emergency scan spot became available. As I waited for my DH to arrive I was ushered out of cubicles and towards my scan before having a huge breakdown in the corridor. I couldn't go for a scan by myself and suddenly began to lose the plot. I am so grateful for my maternity hospital. The staff are amazing and I was escorted down to the scan room by a lovely nurse before DH arrived. I informed the sonographer of my history to forewarn her of any possible breakdowns I might have but managed to hold it together pretty well. An onlooker might think differently!
She scanned for what seemed like an age before confirming that, thankfully, it wasn't ectopic but judging by the size of things I had lost the baby in the past week or so.
So now we're back to waiting.
I listened to this song last night and wanted to post the lyrics. This is how I feel...
JJ Heller - 'Your Hands'
I have unanswered prayers
I have trouble I wish wasn't there
And I have asked a thousand ways
That you would take my pain away
You would take my pain away
I am trying to understand
How to walk this weary land
Make straight the paths that crooked lie
Oh Lord, before these feet of mine
Oh Lord, before these feet of mine
When my world is shaking, heaven stands
When my heart is breaking
I never leave your hands
When you walked upon the earth
You healed the broken, lost and hurt
I know you hate to see me cry
One day you will set all things right
Yeah, one day you will set all things right
When my world is shaking, heaven stands
When my heart is breaking
I never leave your hands
Your hands that shaped the world
Are holding me
They hold me still
Your hands that shaped the world
Are holding me
They hold me still
When my world is shaking, heaven stands
When my heart is breaking
I never leave you
When my world is shaking, heaven stands
When my heart is breaking
I never leave
I never leave your hands
I tried to ride it out and wait until my scan appointment next week but the pain became so bad that I couldn't ignore it and had to go to the EPAU.
I cried uncontrollably and the medical professionals filled up with me as they prodded my stomach, noted the amount of pain I was in, noted the amount of blood around my cervix and the fact that my cervix was open - and swollen. They then began to act very quickly due to the risk of ectopic pregnancy. I was told I'd be admitted until I could be scanned but thankfully an emergency scan spot became available. As I waited for my DH to arrive I was ushered out of cubicles and towards my scan before having a huge breakdown in the corridor. I couldn't go for a scan by myself and suddenly began to lose the plot. I am so grateful for my maternity hospital. The staff are amazing and I was escorted down to the scan room by a lovely nurse before DH arrived. I informed the sonographer of my history to forewarn her of any possible breakdowns I might have but managed to hold it together pretty well. An onlooker might think differently!
She scanned for what seemed like an age before confirming that, thankfully, it wasn't ectopic but judging by the size of things I had lost the baby in the past week or so.
So now we're back to waiting.
I listened to this song last night and wanted to post the lyrics. This is how I feel...
JJ Heller - 'Your Hands'
I have unanswered prayers
I have trouble I wish wasn't there
And I have asked a thousand ways
That you would take my pain away
You would take my pain away
I am trying to understand
How to walk this weary land
Make straight the paths that crooked lie
Oh Lord, before these feet of mine
Oh Lord, before these feet of mine
When my world is shaking, heaven stands
When my heart is breaking
I never leave your hands
When you walked upon the earth
You healed the broken, lost and hurt
I know you hate to see me cry
One day you will set all things right
Yeah, one day you will set all things right
When my world is shaking, heaven stands
When my heart is breaking
I never leave your hands
Your hands that shaped the world
Are holding me
They hold me still
Your hands that shaped the world
Are holding me
They hold me still
When my world is shaking, heaven stands
When my heart is breaking
I never leave you
When my world is shaking, heaven stands
When my heart is breaking
I never leave
I never leave your hands
Sunday, 5 August 2012
Pin Cushion
So I'm feeling a little bit like a pin cushion having had 2 weeks of Menopur injections to try and stimulate my ovaries. The good news is it's finally worked and now we're trusting that the medics know what they're doing in timing the IUI procedure. So much trust is needed and I don't have much left. Last week someone said to me that it is God I need to trust as he has the final say. I'll be honest, I'm finding it really hard. So much has happened over the last 2 years or so to challenge my trust and I find myself asking 'why?'.
My community has been rocked over the past 2 months with the critical illness of an 8 year old boy. The doctors have now said that there is nothing else that can be done for him yet his parents and friends still cling to their faith knowing that God is bigger. I don't know what the outcome of the situation will be but I do know that Jesus said (Matthew 5:45 (NLT))
'...he gives his sunlight to both the evil and the good, and he sends rain on the just and the unjust alike'. We were never promised an easy ride but we were promised that God would be with us in times of adversity and difficulty.
(Isaiah 43:2 (NLT))
'When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you'. I am completely in awe of the little boy's family's faith and trust in God.
Recently I have found my prayers changing from begging for pregnancy to reminding God what the desire of my heart is and asking him to allow what's best for us to happen. I have wanted to be a mum for as long as I can remember. I work with children and I sometimes prefer being around children to adults (!). It's who I am and what I do and everyone knows that. Had Emilie survived we would probably be looking into foster care by now which is something we've always wanted to do; we have been desperate to make a difference in the lives of children who need it. So, we have made the decision to look into foster care now anyway regardless of where we are in the treatment journey. I feel like we could put our lives on hold forever but for us it's been over 2 years of waiting and hoping and I feel that we're ready to move forwards. Don't get me wrong - the desire of my heart is still to be pregnant and have our own baby but foster care has always been the long term plan for us. And why wait?...
My community has been rocked over the past 2 months with the critical illness of an 8 year old boy. The doctors have now said that there is nothing else that can be done for him yet his parents and friends still cling to their faith knowing that God is bigger. I don't know what the outcome of the situation will be but I do know that Jesus said (Matthew 5:45 (NLT))
'...he gives his sunlight to both the evil and the good, and he sends rain on the just and the unjust alike'. We were never promised an easy ride but we were promised that God would be with us in times of adversity and difficulty.
(Isaiah 43:2 (NLT))
'When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you'. I am completely in awe of the little boy's family's faith and trust in God.
Recently I have found my prayers changing from begging for pregnancy to reminding God what the desire of my heart is and asking him to allow what's best for us to happen. I have wanted to be a mum for as long as I can remember. I work with children and I sometimes prefer being around children to adults (!). It's who I am and what I do and everyone knows that. Had Emilie survived we would probably be looking into foster care by now which is something we've always wanted to do; we have been desperate to make a difference in the lives of children who need it. So, we have made the decision to look into foster care now anyway regardless of where we are in the treatment journey. I feel like we could put our lives on hold forever but for us it's been over 2 years of waiting and hoping and I feel that we're ready to move forwards. Don't get me wrong - the desire of my heart is still to be pregnant and have our own baby but foster care has always been the long term plan for us. And why wait?...
Saturday, 30 June 2012
Over the Edge...
Today I did an abseil! It has been in the diary for a couple of months and I'll admit, as much as I love outdoor pursuits I was kind of hoping I'd have a reason not to do it in which case John would have done it in my place. But all that said, I'm so glad I got to do it! I've had a really difficult week this week knowing that my treatment hasn't worked again but knowing that I'd get to do something that I wouldn't be able to do if I was pregnant has been a little light at the end of the tunnel!
You can find out more about the amazing work 'Streetwise', who we were fundraising for, does here: http://www.streetwiseproject.com/ and you can sponsor us here: http://www.justgiving.com/Streetwiseabseil
And here I am - a dot on the edge of a cliff face!
A friend came to see me last night to have a catch up about how I was getting on. We chatted about Emilie, about heaven, and about how much I long to see her again. We talked about how I feel when I see Sam devastated because he has lost or broken something and how much I long to make things ok for him. She reminded me that God feels exactly the same about me, even though it sometimes may not feel like it. She encouraged me to defer God's promises for my life back to him and to focus on his character not as a punishing, vengeful God but as a loving father. I found this last night when I couldn't sleep and it reflected perfectly what my friend had spoken to me about so I wanted to share it:
My Child,
You may not know me,
but I know everything about you.
Psalm 139:1
I know when you sit down and when you rise up.
Psalm 139:2
I am familiar with all your ways.
Psalm 139:3
Even the very hairs on your head are numbered.
Matthew 10:29-31
For you were made in my image.
Genesis 1:27
In me you live and move and have your being.
Acts 17:28
For you are my offspring.
Acts 17:28
I knew you even before you were conceived.
Jeremiah 1:4-5
I chose you when I planned creation.
Ephesians 1:11-12
You were not a mistake,
for all your days are written in my book.
Psalm 139:15-16
I determined the exact time of your birth
and where you would live.
Acts 17:26
You are fearfully and wonderfully made.
Psalm 139:14
I knit you together in your mother's womb.
Psalm 139:13
And brought you forth on the day you were born.
Psalm 71:6
I have been misrepresented
by those who don't know me.
John 8:41-44
I am not distant and angry,
but am the complete expression of love.
1 John 4:16
And it is my desire to lavish my love on you.
1 John 3:1
Simply because you are my child
and I am your Father.
1 John 3:1
I offer you more than your earthly father ever could.
Matthew 7:11
For I am the perfect father.
Matthew 5:48
Every good gift that you receive comes from my hand.
James 1:17
For I am your provider and I meet all your needs.
Matthew 6:31-33
My plan for your future has always been filled with hope.
Jeremiah 29:11
Because I love you with an everlasting love.
Jeremiah 31:3
My thoughts toward you are countless
as the sand on the seashore.
Psalms 139:17-18
And I rejoice over you with singing.
Zephaniah 3:17
I will never stop doing good to you.
Jeremiah 32:40
For you are my treasured possession.
Exodus 19:5
I desire to establish you
with all my heart and all my soul.
Jeremiah 32:41
And I want to show you great and marvelous things.
Jeremiah 33:3
If you seek me with all your heart,
you will find me.
Deuteronomy 4:29
Delight in me and I will give you
the desires of your heart.
Psalm 37:4
For it is I who gave you those desires.
Philippians 2:13
I am able to do more for you
than you could possibly imagine.
Ephesians 3:20
For I am your greatest encourager.
2 Thessalonians 2:16-17
I am also the Father who comforts you
in all your troubles.
2 Corinthians 1:3-4
When you are brokenhearted,
I am close to you.
Psalm 34:18
As a shepherd carries a lamb,
I have carried you close to my heart.
Isaiah 40:11
One day I will wipe away
every tear from your eyes.
Revelation 21:3-4
And I'll take away all the pain
you have suffered on this earth.
Revelation 21:3-4
I am your Father, and I love you
even as I love my son, Jesus.
John 17:23
For in Jesus, my love for you is revealed.
John 17:26
He is the exact representation of my being.
Hebrews 1:3
He came to demonstrate that I am for you,
not against you.
Romans 8:31
And to tell you that I am not counting your sins.
2 Corinthians 5:18-19
Jesus died so that you and I could be reconciled.
2 Corinthians 5:18-19
His death was the ultimate expression
of my love for you.
1 John 4:10
I gave up everything I loved
that I might gain your love.
Romans 8:31-32
If you receive the gift of my son Jesus,
you receive me.
1 John 2:23
And nothing will ever separate you
from my love again.
Romans 8:38-39
Come home and I'll throw the biggest party
heaven has ever seen.
Luke 15:7
I have always been Father,
and will always be Father.
Ephesians 3:14-15
My question is…
Will you be my child?
John 1:12-13
I am waiting for you.
Luke 15:11-32
Love, Your Dad
Almighty God
You can find out more about the amazing work 'Streetwise', who we were fundraising for, does here: http://www.streetwiseproject.com/ and you can sponsor us here: http://www.justgiving.com/Streetwiseabseil
And here I am - a dot on the edge of a cliff face!
A friend came to see me last night to have a catch up about how I was getting on. We chatted about Emilie, about heaven, and about how much I long to see her again. We talked about how I feel when I see Sam devastated because he has lost or broken something and how much I long to make things ok for him. She reminded me that God feels exactly the same about me, even though it sometimes may not feel like it. She encouraged me to defer God's promises for my life back to him and to focus on his character not as a punishing, vengeful God but as a loving father. I found this last night when I couldn't sleep and it reflected perfectly what my friend had spoken to me about so I wanted to share it:
My Child,
You may not know me,
but I know everything about you.
Psalm 139:1
I know when you sit down and when you rise up.
Psalm 139:2
I am familiar with all your ways.
Psalm 139:3
Even the very hairs on your head are numbered.
Matthew 10:29-31
For you were made in my image.
Genesis 1:27
In me you live and move and have your being.
Acts 17:28
For you are my offspring.
Acts 17:28
I knew you even before you were conceived.
Jeremiah 1:4-5
I chose you when I planned creation.
Ephesians 1:11-12
You were not a mistake,
for all your days are written in my book.
Psalm 139:15-16
I determined the exact time of your birth
and where you would live.
Acts 17:26
You are fearfully and wonderfully made.
Psalm 139:14
I knit you together in your mother's womb.
Psalm 139:13
And brought you forth on the day you were born.
Psalm 71:6
I have been misrepresented
by those who don't know me.
John 8:41-44
I am not distant and angry,
but am the complete expression of love.
1 John 4:16
And it is my desire to lavish my love on you.
1 John 3:1
Simply because you are my child
and I am your Father.
1 John 3:1
I offer you more than your earthly father ever could.
Matthew 7:11
For I am the perfect father.
Matthew 5:48
Every good gift that you receive comes from my hand.
James 1:17
For I am your provider and I meet all your needs.
Matthew 6:31-33
My plan for your future has always been filled with hope.
Jeremiah 29:11
Because I love you with an everlasting love.
Jeremiah 31:3
My thoughts toward you are countless
as the sand on the seashore.
Psalms 139:17-18
And I rejoice over you with singing.
Zephaniah 3:17
I will never stop doing good to you.
Jeremiah 32:40
For you are my treasured possession.
Exodus 19:5
I desire to establish you
with all my heart and all my soul.
Jeremiah 32:41
And I want to show you great and marvelous things.
Jeremiah 33:3
If you seek me with all your heart,
you will find me.
Deuteronomy 4:29
Delight in me and I will give you
the desires of your heart.
Psalm 37:4
For it is I who gave you those desires.
Philippians 2:13
I am able to do more for you
than you could possibly imagine.
Ephesians 3:20
For I am your greatest encourager.
2 Thessalonians 2:16-17
I am also the Father who comforts you
in all your troubles.
2 Corinthians 1:3-4
When you are brokenhearted,
I am close to you.
Psalm 34:18
As a shepherd carries a lamb,
I have carried you close to my heart.
Isaiah 40:11
One day I will wipe away
every tear from your eyes.
Revelation 21:3-4
And I'll take away all the pain
you have suffered on this earth.
Revelation 21:3-4
I am your Father, and I love you
even as I love my son, Jesus.
John 17:23
For in Jesus, my love for you is revealed.
John 17:26
He is the exact representation of my being.
Hebrews 1:3
He came to demonstrate that I am for you,
not against you.
Romans 8:31
And to tell you that I am not counting your sins.
2 Corinthians 5:18-19
Jesus died so that you and I could be reconciled.
2 Corinthians 5:18-19
His death was the ultimate expression
of my love for you.
1 John 4:10
I gave up everything I loved
that I might gain your love.
Romans 8:31-32
If you receive the gift of my son Jesus,
you receive me.
1 John 2:23
And nothing will ever separate you
from my love again.
Romans 8:38-39
Come home and I'll throw the biggest party
heaven has ever seen.
Luke 15:7
I have always been Father,
and will always be Father.
Ephesians 3:14-15
My question is…
Will you be my child?
John 1:12-13
I am waiting for you.
Luke 15:11-32
Love, Your Dad
Almighty God
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