Guys, woah! March- we’ve left our little space here, alone, since MARCH!? And I’ve had conversations this week that have been so gracious and mindful…and also emphasizing the giant network and support that we’re so, so BLESSED with… and so we’re back.
It’s hard to follow our last post… did I say “ours?” Oops… clearly I meant Trey’s… To be honest, following that is a little intimidating. His transparency is something I embrace… something I love more about him each and every day. And while this space has been mine for sooooo many years, sometimes forgotten, other times ignored, I feel like he completely revived it, hitting it wayyyy out of the park… and now, you all have to settle back in, with me. So….I’m going to give it a shot to bring so many of you up to speed because you have overwhelmed us with your friendship and love throughout this journey.
As a gentle reminder, please do not comment on Facebook. We strive very diligently to be sensitive to some of our friends who are walking a similar path and we know from personal experience the wrestle of heart drops and envy, woven among the thin, delicate threads of joy for friends when anything “baby” is posted. We fight so hard not to let our own journey interfere with our friends, but also… we’re human. (I’ll post more on that some other time…) But for now….
I didn’t sleep last night, nor the night before. And the night before that, it hurt bitterly to lay on my back because of the bruises that are slowly taking form as they voicelessly tell the story of our pregnancy (until proven otherwise.) That’s infertility terminology for PUPO.
I. AM. PUPO. (for a second time).
This time in some ways easier than the first, and in many others, harder too. We had every intention after the first FET (that stands for Frozen Embryo Transfer) to post here for our team of prayer warriors both near and far to stay an integral part of our journey. But the emotions and the stress and all of the “what if’s” circling my mind forced us to hold the news tightly within our inner circle. But we knew surrounding it all, that our God is still in control, whether you knew or they knew, God is still in control.
…so when our first pregnancy ended up being “proven otherwise” my natural response was, God is in control. A shrug, a hopeful smile, and an aching heart that internally fell apart was not far behind.
05.02.18
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When we had our first transfer on that sun-shining May day, I wore this shirt. Because through it all, we’re still so blessed (and because I was eating bread and cold cuts). If you missed it someplace along the way, we stick to a paleo-diet at home. At some point I will start posting some really cool staple recipes. I digress…
We are still so blessed. We arrived this far, all by God’s grace, to transfer LIFE into my belly. If you know us, you also know that we are strong believers that life begins at conception… and so guys, up until this point, we had 8 lives depending on us. 8… when during our darkest, quietest, most personal moments, have felt like we might never have any. BUT EIGHT. What a BLESSING. That’s all God and science!
We cried when we saw our little embryo for the first time. We held hands and prayed a really hard prayer for God’s will to be done. And when we watched on the screen as our baby fell into his safest home, I felt the mom in me start to unravel this deep, deep love that some of you already know. My voice cracked as I said “there it is!” because the intensity of that kind of love came crashing so hard on my heart.
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Yet, when we got home, I was guarded. I hid that love someplace.. and stuck to the whole “take it easy” stuff, mostly. And as our “waiting days” grew longer, I again felt the blessing God was giving me; I knew. I knew every cramp was telling me, “not yet.” And so when the nurse called 4 days later, the shock of her “I’m so sorry” felt less intense.
I’ll share what was intense; my dear, sweet, friend telling me, “I’m so sorry for your loss…because Nicole, it’s still a loss.”
I skipped a baby shower that weekend; something I told myself I would never do, but did anyway. I did the ugly cry when a relative announced her own pregnancy; something I told myself I also would never do…but did anyway. People say this journey is one for the strong, not the weak… some how there are days when I feel more “the weak” and definitely less a part of “the strong.” And those were “those” days; the days when if I relied on nothing else, it’d be God’s Word telling me THIS.
You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope… With less of you there is more of God and His rule. (Matthew 5:3, The Message)
Less me, more God.
That’s where our beautiful Spiritual Healing has taken over. We’ve been attending the church plant that I’ve previously mentioned, and God speaks. Every Sunday, He speaks clearly and loudly, and He’s moving in Mom; I can hear her worshipping Him again and so tears fill my eyes as I worship Him with her… And with less of me, there is more of God.
He teaches me to keep trusting Him (actually, using so many of your voices). We’re still blessed! We have 7 more lives depending on us. And once again, I am PUPO.
As with everything else, we toyed with the idea of being open… like, would you all really want to know the intimate status of our pregnancy? Guys, even if you didn’t want to, now you do. To be honest, the countless inquiring for our latest updates, the kind thoughts, and the MANNNYYYY prayers sent our way gave us a really easy answer. DUH. Why wouldn’t we be open about this too?!
07.06.18
This transfer day was a little different, but I did still eat bread and cold cuts. I still held my husband’s hand tightly as we were introduced, once again, so closely to our babies. But I didn’t cry the intense tears of love for my children. I cried some precious tears for my dad. AND HOLD UP- I know it seems wrong on so many levels to be thinking about my dad while making babies… but I feel him so closely with me this time around… I do.
He promised me, outside of theology obvs., some really great babies. He promised to be with God, to make sure we really did get the best, to even ask if he could hand-pick them so we’d have only girls. And for some reason, that’s all I’ve clung to this time around. I haven’t slept the last few nights because I miss him really badly, like the freshness of his death has come all over again. But I don’t cry in front of mom; Trey holds me, mascara stains my pillow, and I hug the sweater of his barely-there scent that lingers. Yet the only hug of comfort that has a chance of working is my baby who got to spend even a small bit of Kingdom-time with dad. Does any of that make any sense to you…..at all?!?!? Me neither.
There’s one thing that does: who God has proven Himself to be, and how He has continually beckoned us to fall flat on our faces in trust and praise every day throughout the battle of despair and hopelessness, has built me to be the strongest version of myself (and for the record, I think my dad would have been really proud of us).
Beholding these gracious moments that God has blessed us. P.S. you know this is because of your prayers, right?
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pps. also beholding the hope that my husband never fails to bring to the table…err… stirrups.
