So much to pray for....

If you read this...and you pray...please just send up a general "Lord, watch over all of those people on Lori's heart" because there are so, so many!

Pray for our sweet church secretary who was in an awful car accident...pray for the mommy who is looking at some very possibly heartbreaking news on Friday...and the mommy who is in the middle (almost at the end, really) of a very confusing and scary situation that she is in--and that it works out the way it SHOULD...pray for the mommies about to deliver their babies any day...pray for the mommies who are praying to get to the point where they are about to deliver their babies any day...pray for the mommies who know that when they DO deliver their babies, they will NOT get to keep them and raise them...pray for those mommies who don't have their children here with them on earth and are trying to bring a brother or sister into their lives...pray for those who are desperately trying to become mommies...pray for those who have just lost yet another baby...pray for those who are being attacked by all sorts of things..pray for my brother...pray for our appointment tomorrow....

Good grief...there's so much going on right now.

Thank you.

Well, nuts....

So, went for my baseline ultrasound this am. For IVF, this is essentially where they check to make sure your body is not going crazy, is being obedient to the drugs that were given (if any) to suppress your ovaries, see how many possible follicles we may be working with and get the "Good to Go" for starting the drugs to make those follicles produce lots of fabulous eggs. (Only 11 follicles, though, so already starting on mediocre at best!)

Theoretically, I was to start those stimulating drugs Friday. (Ironically, I'd have to take them at our dead child retreat.)

My nurse called today and told me that my estrogen was high and my lining was too thick. Probably because I had such OPTIMAL conditions for the frozen transfer. So, she told me to continue taking birth control today, tomorrow, and Thursday and check on Friday.

Super. Friday is when we were planning to be in Nashville.

So, my sweet, sweet nurse tells me that she really thinks it's important to go to the retreat, so she told me to gulp one that minute, tomorrow am and go in Thursday am for a check and pray it will be better.

Best case scenario is that it is. And the cycle gets pushed back about 4 days.
Worst case scenario is that it isn't. And the cycle gets pushed back even further.

Which really messes up a lot of plans I had for May.

Aggravation.

And yet...as aggravated as I am, I am more heartbroken for a couple of women I have *met* in the last four months...sadly, because they also have lost babies.

Well, in the last week, two of those women who have been blessed with subsequent pregnancies have miscarried.

Friends--unless you've been here, you can't even imagine what the thought of a brother or sister to your child means. What hope the mere thought of him or her inspires. Not to replace the baby who died, ever, but to have some joy again at the thought of mothering another miracle.
Maybe seeing in a brother or sister what you sadly only now see in a picture.

And when that hope is given, in the form of a subsequent positive pregnancy test...and then lost in hearing, "I'm sorry, there's no heartbeat,"....I can only imagine the utter devastation that comes with that and I just am so sorry.

For their privacy, because honestly, I don't know if they want all sorts of people going by and commenting, I'll not say names.

But please, please, please....lift these women in your prayers! Lift them to God and beg Him for some peace and comfort for them.
Lift mothers who are pregnant with subsequent pregnancies and are holding their breath for an entire 9 months because they are terrified the same thing (or something else tragic) may happen.
Lift women who are going through all sorts of hell on earth as they are thankful for the miracles of medicine and technology and yet, putting their poor bodies (and hearts and minds) through such rigorous treatments for the simple little dream of mothering a child who lives.
Lift those who suffer....for there is so much of it and my heart just hurts. I don't know what else to do but to ask for prayers and bring my own to God.

Weighing on my heart...

Something has been weighing on my heart since last Sunday and Mark's sermon.

Had Matthew lived, he would have had some serious issues.

Serious.

I have not really had the courage or the strength to really broach *just* what happened to Matthew and what was said about him and what was done. I have not had the courage to research vasa previa more. I have not had the courage to even try and understand any of it any more because frankly--it doesn't change anything and it just makes my heart hurt.

So, after listening on Sunday, that night, we did our Hanging on to Hope devotional. This was week 8 and Nancy (Guthrie--if you have a hurt heart, she's been there and writes about it beautifully--this book has spoken to us so much in 8 weeks) focused on --wait for it -- DEATH.

Yep, after hearing that death is a deliverance and healing from the horrors of this world, that night we read about something that tied right in with that.

After, I asked John some questions I haven't been brave enough to ask. I asked him if Matthew really lost a lot of blood. (Yes.) I asked him if Matthew was without oxygen for a significant amount of time. (Yes.) I asked him if Matthew would have had serious, serious issues had he lived. (Yes.) I asked him if the doctors had told him that if he survived, Matthew would not have had an easy life. (Yes.) I asked him if he really and truly believed that knowing all of this, did he feel Matthew was better off in Heaven. (Yes.)

Oh friends....please, please, please do not think that John thinking that means that he was not prepared to go to the ends of the earth to ensure that Matthew's life would have been the best life it could have been if he survived. He WAS! I WAS! He told me the NICU doctor from Georgetown had told him Matthew was very sick and was facing some serious issues and he meditated on that the whole drive up there. In his head, he thought about what that meant and how we would deal with it. And deal with it we WOULD!

But...would Matthew ever say my name? Maybe not. Would he ever even walk? Maybe not. Would he have been able to eat or would he have needed tubal feedings? Who knows? Would his life had been the life it would have been 10 minutes before he was born and the vessel hadn't broken? No. Not anywhere near it.

We see little boys and girls with disabilities all over the place and look at each other and say, "We'd take that in A HEARTBEAT."

And we would.

But, in continuing to think of the many, many, many prayers offered for my precious little boy--prayers for him to be ok--I have to really be honest and ask if I think those prayers were answered and he's ok.

I'm not sure I can answer that right now. In my heart, as a mother, I absolutely would not want my son to suffer even one second. In my heart, as a mother, the thought of my son being cradled by Jesus Himself is what I'd want.

But in my heart, as a mother, with unknown possibilities swirling around what could have been, I still ache for him to be right here with me.

Doctors, Deliverance and Death

I preface this saying that this post is based on a series of sermons that my pastor at Leonardtown Baptist Church has been giving over the last few weeks...

So, I'm going to be very transparent here. I have been mulling over the purpose of prayer for several weeks. A dear friend and I talked about it and she had such a good statement: Without communication, there is no relationship. So, at the very least, prayer is necessary for a relationship with God.

I also know the Bible tells us to pray. Jesus prayed. He told us HOW to pray. So, obviously, we are to pray.

BUT...here's my struggle. What is it that I am to pray for? If I believe as I claim, that there is a plan for each and every life and God knows it from the beginning to end, what is my prayer for? Is it going to change the way something happens? How could it, if the 'plan' is the 'plan' regardless of my prayer for something different. Moreover, if we are asking God to intercede and heal people, on what basis are we asking that? And even more pressing, on what basis does He decide to do that? Why does He pick one baby to save and not mine? Were our prayers not good enough? Had we prayed harder, or more people had prayed, would that have changed anything? I can't believe that it would--because if it did, that means that enough fervent prayer could have saved Matthew and that just doesn't sit right with me. Especially in light of the fact that I know people around the world were praying.

So...when we ask people to pray and heal someone--if it happens, we claim miracle. If it doesn't, we claim what? God said, "No," to that prayer? Maybe...but then that makes one start asking questions that I have thus far not: "Why NOT?" "Why NO to my son?" And again, I go back to my belief that God is not up in Heaven plucking babies for a plan. Nor do I believe He needed another angel--He's GOD for Pete's sake! He needs NOTHING from us. Nor do I think He created Matthew, saw what a beautiful little boy he was and said, "Hmm...should have kept that one. Taking him back."

As I said, I am clearly, CLEARLY struggling with prayer. I have been hard-pressed to offer any to God out loud. I'm relying on the prayers John offers for our food and our days. I'm relying on the prayers of our many friends and family. I'm relying on the Holy Spirit to offer my prayers for me because I am just having a hard time doing it myself.

But today...the service today did not really give me the "Aha! THAT's what I was looking for!" with reference to my understanding the purposes of prayer and what we are to petition God for, but it DID bring to light something else. Though I sat and cried and cried as he spoke, I know what he said was for me.

We have been discussing the various names of God. Two weeks ago, we discussed God as I AM--our All and All. Last week, he preached on Jehovah-Jireh--God as our Provider.

Today was Jehovah-Rophe--God as our Healer. I knew it would be hard to sit through, as things are still so raw. My pastor talked about how God takes away our bitterness as our Healer. He used the story of Moses taking Israel out of Egypt--they got through the Red Sea only to find the water on the other side was bitter. He delivered them...and made the bitter water sweet. Then, as many Southern Baptist preachers do (and possibly one reason I love being a Baptist because the sermons are so nice and grammatically geometric!), he made his second alliterative point:

God heals through deliverance...My pastor said something like this: "We ask if God still heals? Does He still heal? How can we say he does when we pray and people aren't healed? Is He still healing? Yes, He is.

He heals: 1) through doctors;
He heals: 2) through deliverance of circumstance
He heals: 3) and this one is the one no one wants to hear or talk about, but is nonetheless precious healing, He heals through death."

That's right. He delivers us from the horrors of this world through death.

Now, trust me...sitting there this morning, listening to that, I thought, "DEATH is better than my arms??? DEATH is better than Matthew's mother???"

And if I am really true, and believe what I say, it is.
In death, Matthew is whole. He is not hurting. He does not cry. He is literally at the feet of Jesus. And though it may not be better to us, it is certainly better in God's eyes.

My pastor is right. No one, including me, feels comfortable saying that death better than life on this earth.--But like I said, if we REALLY believe what we claim, then as uncomfortable as we are, it's truth nonetheless--what can be better than the feet of Jesus?

SO--the point of this all is that in my struggle for the purpose of my prayer to God...my heartfelt and deepest prayer to God that my little boy would be ok...my prayer was answered and it wasn't "No." It was death. Death on this earth. The loss of him in my arms. The ache I will feel for the rest of my natural life.

It's my arrogance and desperation as a human and a mother that tries to cloud Heaven being better than my arms. It's my rebellion in wanting what I WANT. And yes, I know it's because I am human that I am this way and I feel that I am totally justified in the feelings. Well, maybe not justified in the truest sense, but certainly justified as a human feeling them.

My beliefs are being challenged on a constant basis. Hourly I make decisions to trust what I know has to be true. This morning was hard, and did challenge my beliefs...but in my pastor being honest and approaching something that we as humans who love life don't want to hear--he helped answer a question that has been raging in my mind for days and days.

That rare, tiny piece of clarity seems to be so far from me so much of the time. I am grateful for it today.

For the record: I HAVE learned that in prayer, I need to be far, far more specific.

Two weeks...

Today, in 6 minutes, my sweet little boy would have been two weeks old.

Why write right now? I don't know, really...I've had so, so many things I want to say and tell Matthew and then I remember that he'll never read the words anyway and the purpose of the whole blog-turned-yearly-book was for his memory...well, in truth, I figured he may be interested in it, but his wife would have probably been more interested in it.

His daddy wanted me to keep writing. This would have been his book, and his daddy wants me to finish through the end of the year at least as I planned. Of course, I planned to start his new book with new posts on January 1, and that will never happen. John has been an amazing, amazing husband (though I already knew this) and if this is important to him, I certainly can comply.

I'm not ready to write about the funeral, though the outpouring from our church, the military, my school, the community and total strangers was and still remains unbelievable. Frankly, it was a blur, and high in the competition for the hardest day of my life. I can say that many, many people have told us how deeply it affected them, and we again are touched by so many.
It's hard to believe it was just a week ago. And yet, it's been a lifetime.

We have been surviving...that's the best thing I can say. We have amazing family, friends and support from so many various groups of people. I am still in shock, though, and honestly go through periods of absolute disbelief to total and udder grip-me-to-the-core reality. It turns out that it was NOT a placental abruption that happened, but a condition called Vasa Previa. Rare, like being struck by lightning, and most times, devastatingly fatal for the baby and life-threatening for the mother. I've said it before and I'll say it again; Dr. Shonekan's quick actions not only gave us several precious hours with Matthew, but saved my life. Truly. Our nurse at Shady Grove told me she knew of one other patient where the baby was lost and the mother went into strokes and was very touch and go because it was not known about, as in my case. If you are to research this, as I've done a little, I can say with all honesty that there was no way this would have ever been diagnosed. I *had* the heavy monitoring because of his kidney condition. I *had* the color Doppler. Dr. Polko examined the placenta with the pathologist herself and said that the vessel was so tiny and so close to something (can't remember what) that no one would have ever been able to diagnose it without a crystal ball.

Friends, your comments and posts and thoughts have been truly what has sustained me. So many comment on my bravery and my amazing attitude and I want there to be no disillusion. I am shattered. I am not brave; bravery is facing it when you have a choice not to. I have no choice, my life has to go on. I have a husband who loves me and whose heart's desire is to one day again hold a son or daughter, and for longer than a few hours. For him, I'll move Heaven and Earth to try and make that happen.

And my faith? I'm SO trying. I promised God that even if the most horrible happened, I'd try my best to be one of those 'strong and inspirational' people who glorify Him regardless. I never, ever dreamed that He'd call my bluff on it, but that matters not; the miracle of Matthew is one that I must be forever grateful to God for, and keep my promises. And if I am very honest, Matthew was the answer to prayer. God was faithful. He existed, he lived and he was given to us by God.

Please keep us in your prayers. These are dark days. We covet your prayers and encouragement. There's much more in my head, but my heart just can't keep me writing right now. Instead, I'll post another picture from the amazing angel who photographed Matthew for us....This one makes me smile because it shows how LONG Matthew was....I've been saying that for a while! I have other pictures, ones that I'll try to post as my heart can bear to do so. Looking at them is so, so bittersweet.

A bit of this...

Let me tell you...so much on my mind. This may be long (or I may get sick of rambling and stop) and for that I apologize in advance. So, forgive the ADHD going on here....

First, Mom to 2 Anglels (who has THE CUTEST SHIRTS!) had a post about a Vera give-away on her site. I went to the site, Be Thou a Knight and not only loved the site, absolutely and positively identified with Lianna. Go there and you'll see why. Anyway, the cutest bag (which would replace the one some inconsiderate JERKS stole at DISNEY) is offered as a give away as part of a program to help build her IVF fund. I read a bit of her blog and saddened to see that she had gotten posts similar to some I've seen here (and immediately deleted) that trashed her for trying IVF, being selfish, etc. I don't know why people haven't figured out that if you don't like what you are reading, STOP READING. I guess it's just more fun to belittle and defame; hurt and hurl hate just because your life is miserable. Well, kudos to her for continuing her quest to be a mom, no matter WHAT path she chooses, and I totally entered the contest. Yes, I'd LOVE the bag, but I know every bit helps...we don't have much, but hey...if I don't eat at Taco Bell this weekend, and instead win a Vera bag? Yeah, worth it.

Next, on to my beef with Kodak. And Kodak, don't go getting crazy on me. I'm still a customer, I still root for the home team and won't even consider Fuji. I'm just frustrated with your Lab. And website. And service. But other than that, I'm great. Last week I got an email that said if I didn't order $19.99 worth of products, all 4 gig of my pictures stored for the last few years would be gone. Not all that fond of the change in service, but no biggie...I truly do think Kodak has the best quality out there and prefer it to Fuji. I'll use the service, I have lots before. So, I ordered two mini books, some prints and a card. Amy, if you are reading this, one of the books was for your birthday and now won't even come close to getting there on time, so sorry. Blame Kodak. Anyway, today I get an email that says the books were cancelled. No explanation, just due to service terms. I called Kodak and a lovely young gentleman named Ignacius tells me that the lab cancelled the books for "Unexplained Reasons" and I need to recreate and resubmit. (Apparently it is the day for incompetence. See Mala for more...) I told him that was unacceptable; I needed more than unexplained reasons. After much more wait, he tells me that the lab said there was a brand name in one of the images and they cancelled it. WHAT? So stand in front of a Gap store naked and you can't print that picture because you can see the GAP sign? The poor guy was obviously getting some line from the lab, but said that was Kodak's policy--they don't print images with brand names or logos in them. WHATEVER. Supervisor, please.

I told the supervisor that I wanted an explanation and NOT that there was a brand name issue because I was looking at a KODAK printed book that had picture on top of picture of my family from last summer with brand names ALL OVER THE PLACE. He puts me on hold forever and then says, "Only one book didn't ship. The one that didn't print didn't print because there was an image error uploading." So where the HECK did that first guy's story come from? For clarification, Kodak WILL print a picture of me naked standing in front of GAP because there is NO policy about brand names or logos, just copyright for the pictures. Sounds reasonable, right?
(For the record, actually, Kodak will NOT print a picture of me naked standing in front of GAP because NO SUCH PICTURE opportunity will exist!)
Long story short--after an hour--I still have to create the other book and resubmit. Uh-huh...I'll get right on that. For the record, there is NO LOVE LOST with Kodak. I still will use them, still find them better than most photo companies (even with the price because of the quality) and all is well. Just AGGRAVATING.

And not a good day for it. My uncle passed away, suddenly, last night. Now, it should be stated that though my mom's family (my dad's for that matter) is pretty large, it is safe to say that there's a lot of ... disconnect, for lack of a better word. I have oodles and oodles of cousins that I couldn't name if you gave me Hawaii as the prize for it, and am not really that close to my numerous aunts and uncles. Or, I guess as close as I'd like to be. In any event, close or not, there were a couple of brothers that I know my mom felt particularly close to and with whom they shared some rough days as children. This uncle was one of those brothers. I actually was just really reconnecting with him after a bit with Facebook, and my cousin was going to go visit him in two weeks with his new granddaughter. It's just sad, and makes me think of my mom as well. So, rest in peace, Uncle Dewitt.

Last, we saw the famous Dr. Polko yesterday. Around these parts, she is THE OB-GYN. We liked her. In truth, she was pretty laid back (not like me) and different than Dr. Davis (notes, white board, type A, the works) but just as fabulous. SO far, I cannot imagine us being anywhere else. Even though they were running late (an HOUR!) it was worth it. Dr. Polko gave me a prescription for PT 2-3 times a week because of the pelvic/sciatic pain. She said she totally knew it hurt and wanted to help. Loved that. She looked at pictures of baby from last week, and said they were adorable. Loved that. She told me she was fine with my caloric intake (though I think I need to up it a bit, but not too bad) and that all the labs looked fine. Loved that. She listened to baby with the fetal heart monitor and said she was "Wiggly" and "Ornery" (she kept moving all over the place every time Dr. Polko got a heartbeat. VERY MUCH my and John's child!) Loved that! Best of all, she said I could have a C-section if I wanted to! LOVED THAT! She told me I'd pay now or I'd pay later, but either way, I'd pay. I'm fine with that, and think I'm going to take the route that will let me pay as I IMMEDIATELY sit down after birth. I'll be glad to pay as I tinkle or poo with no pain or stitches tear. On that note, I'll pay as I poop IN PRIVATE instead of spread eagle for all to see on the table. Yep...Operation Air-Lift Baby M will now commence.

Okay. Seriously, enough rambling. If you read this, please continue to keep the families of Kyrgyz (and all adoptive parents and children everywhere) in your prayers. Please pray for my uncle's family and their heartache. Pray for Lianna and her IVF success, as well as the success of all those who desperately wish to become pregnant. Pray for the poor puppies and kitties (and all the stray animals of the world) because that darned commercial KILLS me. Pray for people all over the world who are persecuted for their beliefs and their desire to help the hurt. Pray for the hurt and suffering. Heck...just pray. I'm thinking there's lots of us who could use it.