I want this blog to be unique…
I don’t want it to be all about me, how I have everything figured out, and you should just pull up a chair while gleaning from all this awesomeness.
Nope, not even a little bit.
I know I am supposed to have this blog… to write, share, and relate… But here is the problem:
I have only had so many experiences and can only reach so many people with them. It dawned on me a while back that I am surrounded by moms/women with beautiful stories.
I have determined to use space to bless more women with the bravely shared stories of others.
There is something so beautiful in knowing that you are not alone.
Without further a due this is my childhood friend Megan… I remember hanging out in her room listening to TLC and jamming to “Waterfalls” but today is about something much deeper. Today is her story and I am going to warn you… it is a bit heart wrenching. This is the longest guest post I have ever shared and there is a good reason for that… I think you need to read every word. So have at it. Read it. Share it. This is such a real struggle for so many but we all have a hard time talking about it.
Have you ever just known something to be true? Deep down in your gut, it’s there. There’s no way to prove it, but you know it in your heart to be true?
That’s how I felt about motherhood. I had feared ever since a young age, much too young to be concerned about such things, that I would never have my own children. Something deep down told me I would struggle.
I had no relationship with God as a teenager. As a child, I would sometimes attend our local church or Awanas with Christen and her family (P.S. thank you Siegmund family, for planting the seed of desire in my heart as a child). But that’s where my knowledge of Christ ended.
Thanks to a few tremendous losses in my teenage years of friends and family, and to not having that relationship, I abandoned it altogether. I didn’t know how to deal with the sadness, the pain, the FEAR. Well into my early adulthood, that relationship was still nowhere to be found. And I lived in constant fear, gripped by anxiety and depression that I learned to hide well.
Fast forward to the beginning of what would become my marriage. My husband Brian was raised in a Christian home. When we started dating in 2009, his Grandmother sat me down in front of his whole family, at a Christmas get together, and told me she could not condone our continued relationship unless she knew that I had accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior.
In all the emptiness and searching I’d experienced in my life, at that moment, I knew that it was true. There is a God, Christ is my saviour, and in this man is the husband God had chosen for me. That moment is the moment my faith was restored and I started to see the shimmer of hope in my life again.
We started trying to have a baby in December of 2010. Well, more like we just weren’t really trying to stop it. We weren’t married, we didn’t really care, we wanted to have kids together. It didn’t happen. After we were married in September of 2011, we REALLY started trying. And still, nothing. I started wondering. What was wrong with me? What if my worst nightmares were true? I couldn’t have kids? How is that fair? Where was God in all of this? Why couldn’t I get pregnant? I felt lost again.
In December of that year, the most exciting thing happened! I was LATE!!! Test number one… POSITIVE!!! Test number two… POSITIVE!!! WE WERE PREGNANT!!! Doctor appointments were set, we were ready for this adventure, we were so filled with joy!
A few very short weeks later, however, our world came crashing down. I could never describe the pain as I realized what was happening. I was home alone, paramedics were called, Brian came rushing home, and I will never forget the urgency in the paramedics voice when he turned to my husband and said, “If you don’t put her in the car right now and get to the E.R., we are putting her in the back of the ambulance…” They feared I was experiencing an ectopic pregnancy, that my fallopian tube had ruptured, and now my life was in danger. We spent the night in the E.R. praying. The ectopic pregnancy had been ruled out, thankfully, but we still had no answers. I was sent home and told to follow up for blood work.
A few days later, it was confirmed. I had miscarried. Our first Angel Baby would have been born in August of 2012, instead I would be sitting with empty arms, wondering why. To say my faith was shaken that day, would be an immense understatement.
I was angry with God. I questioned again, how a God that’s said to be so great to His children, could take away something so precious. Had I done something to deserve this? Where was He? Why was this happening? My fears swallowed me whole. My nightmare was becoming reality. And the enemy had a firm grasp on my heart.
I am forever grateful for my husband’s quiet but steadfast faith during this time. He prayed with me, he prayed over me, without me ever knowing sometimes. He taught me how to find comfort in our loss, how to seek peace within our Christ, even if he didn’t know he was doing it, he was. He still does.
In a relatively short time after our first loss, we became pregnant again. In May of 2012. I was terrified. I wasn’t sure HOW to be excited because the fear of another loss was all consuming. I cried A LOT. My first appointment came, and Sticky was there, we were on the right path! But wait, the nurse wasn’t happy about something. A few appointments later, I had been diagnosed with Graves Disease and Hyperthyroidism. A very probable cause for our difficulties getting, and staying, pregnant.
I was now labeled as a high risk pregnancy. I now had to be medicated. Sticky now had to be monitored to be sure that not only the antibodies from my disease, but also the medication I had to take for it, were not crossing the placenta and affecting my baby. Anxiety took hold. Once again, I was taught how to turn to prayer.
Brian was teaching me, again, how to turn to Christ. This was our strength through the next 9 months and multitudes of doctors appointments. My husband was with me at every single appointment he was able to break away from work for. By my last trimester I appointments three times a week… I think he missed two.
In January of 2013, after a very quick but scary labor and delivery, we were blessed with our Rainbow Baby. A healthy and THRIVING baby boy. There were a lot of tears and a lot of smiles. And so many prayers of thanks.
I knew a love at that moment that I had never before known existed. Not the love for my husband, nor the love for my son, but the love of THE Son! It overwhelmed me, I looked into my son’s eyes, and I saw the love of God for His children shining back at me.
The first moment I was alone back at home, in the shower, I fell to my knees and I heaved and sobbed my thanks into the steam that surrounded me like the warm embrace of a father comforting a small child. I was home. He had heard our prayers, He had blessed us, and in HIS arms, I was HOME.
At five weeks old, my son was hospitalized. RSV. My son lay for five days in a hospital crib. His body was dying and there was nothing we could do. I was dying right there with him.
My Mother-in-Love drove down from Phoenix to stay with me in the hospital while Brian was at work. And we prayed. She showered her love and her prayers over my son. He was anointed with oil and prayed over by my dear friend and Sister in Christ, Naomi.
We had an army of Prayer Warriors that had no idea who we were raising my son’s name up to be healed. I had never before witnessed the fervor with which these people prayed over us. In those five days, to the astonishment of the doctors, I witnessed the true power of prayer. My son was allowed to go home.
I was once again able to hold him without worrying about pulling on his IV or knocking his Oxygen off his tiny little nose. We still had a little ways to go once we were home, but recovery came. And at almost three years old, he’s fine. No sign the virus had ever taken hold in his tiny little lungs. HALLELUJAH!!!
After Damon’s first birthday, Brian and I decided again, to stop taking precautions to prevent another pregnancy. There were health concerns for myself, but as long as my doctors told me my thyroid levels were within normal ranges, we could make it through another pregnancy. I was pregnant again by June of that year. Things were going fine, I was finally allowing myself to REALLY be excited, I was due March 3rd of 2015. I felt like this one was a girl, and my heart was overwhelmed.
Right after my husband’s 30th birthday in July, my world crashed down around me yet again. We went to have an ultrasound to check on baby because I’d started bleeding again. Nothing. No heartbeat, no movement, baby measured two weeks smaller than she should be. I had miscarried again. My heart broke. This time I was far enough along to require a D&C. I was terrified.
But again, God proved his presence in my life, even through my heartache, by what happened in my OR Prep. My OB/GYN was originally not going to be able to perform my surgery and I was not comfortable with the doctor scheduled to do it. That morning, with fear taking me over, ready to walk out of the hospital, my doctor walked by my bed. She hadn’t known I was there. She made some calls, she set her office straight, she had finished her mornings surgeries early, she made it so that SHE could perform mine.
In the OR, as anestesia took it’s hold on me, I started to cry and I asked her to pray with me, and she did. I thought it had been a dream. At my follow up appointment, I asked her if it had really happened, and with tears in both our eyes, she hugged me tight, and told me it wasn’t a dream, and that she would continue to hold me and my husband in her prayers. I felt so blessed to have had a God-fearing woman in charge of my operation and standing by me through all of this uncertainty.
After the second miscarriage, my health began another downward spiral. It was becoming more and more difficult for me to get through the day and to care for my son. Brian and I began to wonder if this was God’s way of telling us not to try again. That Damon was meant to be our only. We weren’t really sure how to feel, I wanted another baby, and we again had started to slack off in prevention.
In February of this year, we learned we were really good at making Angels. Before I’d even known for sure I was pregnant, I’d lost another baby. Had this one stuck, I would be due next week, October 11th. The timing in Christen asking me to write this is such a blessing. To be able to get all of this out of my head rather than to dwell on it over this next week is just another testament of God’s timing in our lives. So thank you Christen, for listening to whatever it was that made you invite me to write this.
Through all of this, I’ve learned that while there is no greater pain than losing a child, even if you’ve never seen their face, there is also no greater comfort than knowing you will one day hold them in Heaven. While celebrating four years married and six years together this past September, after many heart wrenching discussions and a lot of pleading prayers, we made the painful decision that another attempt would be too much risk to my health.
I also realized, however, that all of this heartache and loss had brought us closer together as a couple.
It has renewed our faith and made us stronger, more able to handle what is thrown at us, we now know how to “Let Go and Let God.”
It’s taught me how to seek comfort in my Lord.
It’s taught us how to be together in Christ, to build a marriage that serves Him.
It’s taught me patience, and understanding with my son.
It’s taught me immeasurably of gratitude and humility.
I am a better mother to my son because of my losses because God has taught me to cherish him and let go of trivial things. Let the laundry pile up and squeeze that boy tight instead.
God has taught me the true meaning of unconditional love. And I am so grateful to have been blessed with this yearning for Christ while my son is young, so that I will be able to raise a son that will grow into a strong and faithful man.
I have a long way to go, a lot of learning to do, I’m still a Baby Christian after all, but through my husband and my son, my family, and a few incredibly strong and patient Sisters in Christ, my heart has been opened to HIM. And I am forever grateful.
Thanks for joining us for (MOM)entous Monday.
As if Megan weren’t amazing enough already… she also has her own design company… Megan Hayden Designs! Check her out.
If you have a story you would like to share… Contact me!
Let’s bless people with the story of our lives… it turns all that pain into purpose.
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