Oh Love That Will Not Let Me Go

This post isn't about how hard life is, or how bad I have it. It's about a God who redeems, who is just waiting for us to call out to him; who is so faithful every time we call upon him. I want to describe what the process of being far from him and being brought near again was like for me recently and to encourage you, if you feel like you are seeking him yet he is still far: he is coming; he hears you; he sees you; he loves you and he is working.

For reasons that seem too many to list, I've spent basically the last 24+ hours crying, feeling bad, being tired, or feeling overwhelmed (mostly a combination of these things all at once). My sweet, sweet husband has been a great encouragement to me, praying with and for me, and encouraging me with Bible verses about how near God is, and how good he is. But when you feel far from God sometimes that kind of thing can seem like head knowledge that has no bearing on your heart or mentality. I am grateful for how Jeff loves me like this, even if at the time it didn't help bring me out of my slump. At breakfast this morning I prayed that Jesus would remember his words in Matthew 28, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." Jeff later suggested I stay home from church this morning and enjoy the peace and quiet while he took the kids to church, and as tempting as that was I felt my spirit encouraging me to go to church and partake in communion because that was what I needed more than eating Pop Tarts and watching corny Hallmark movies on Netflix.

Our call to worship was a passage from Isaiah, part of which read "You shall no more be called Forsaken, and your land shall no more be termed Desolate, but you shall be called My Delight Is in Her...as the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, so shall your God rejoice over you." (Is. 62:4, 5). I thought, "Wow, what a nice thought! That God would actually think those things about me. I certainly feel desolate right now, so I'm looking forward to not feeling that way." Yes, I needed to hear that. I felt God moving towards me.

Then, our assurance of pardon was a passage from Romans which included Romans 5:3-4, "Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope," In crept my cynicism and I couldn't help but smirk. I thought "Oh yea, I'm really rejoicing over here in my suffering. Looking forward to the part about hope, Lord!" And then God rushed in.

We sang "How He Loves" and I couldn't get through the words.

He is jealous for me,

Loves like a hurricane, I am a tree,

Bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy.

When all of a sudden,

I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory,

And I realize just how beautiful You are,

And how great Your affections are for me.

And oh, how He loves us, oh,

Oh, how He loves us,

How He loves us 

In that moment, he was near and his love for me was real. My heart felt it and I cried tears of relief. That morning I had prayed for the rest the Jesus promises, and I had been wanting to feel that divine rest but in the midst of parenting a 2 and 4 year old, and being pregnant, and settling into a new house, it had eluded me. But here, in worship, God finally came! His Spirit awakened my heart and I was freed from the fog of discouragement and unhappiness that was weighing me down. I thought about how happy I was to be in church, to be with the people of God, praising God together, and listening to his words being taught alongside my brothers and sisters. I strongly believe if I would have listened to a sermon at home, or sang all those same songs at home in my living room I would not have experienced what I did during this sweet time of corporate worship.

As our pastor taught from the book of Hosea, he expounded upon how Hosea is a picture of what God's love towards us is like, in Christ. He loves me not because he needs me, but because he JUST DOES; he pursues me when I turn to other things to fulfill me; his love is a one-way love that never gets tired of loving and always gives more than it gets back; it's unconditional; it's not dependent upon my ability to perform but upon his promise to love me (and he ALWAYS keeps his promises); his love endures, there is no exit strategy. As the Jesus Storybook Bible describes it, it's a never-stopping, never-giving-up, always-and-forever love. 

We took communion after the sermon, and we were reminded that when we feel unlovable, unworthy,  and messed up, we might feel like running from God but really that's when we need God the most. And that's when he shows up and he shines, he LOVES us like that, just like when our kids come to us with scraped up and bloody knees, snotty noses crying and need to be consoled. Jesus said he came to save sinners, not those who think they are already good enough. The more aware I am of how short I come of being "good" the more God has to work with! In those moments when I have nothing to give, God rushes in and says, "I have been waiting for you to get to this place." The root of my sadness and discouragement, and most of my sin, is forgetting how much God loves me. When we forget this, the Gospel becomes irrelevant; situations seem impossible; being hurt seems unbearable. But when God's Spirit works within us we are reminded and we believe that we can do all things through Christ, who strengthens us (Philippians 4:13). 

I am thankful God is near. I am thankful for a church that consistently and faithfully preaches God's word and allows room for him to work in the hearts of his people. I hope that this post encourages you if you are in a rough patch and you are in Christ: God is coming. He loves you because he promises to love you always, it is not according to anything you have or haven't done and he will never stop loving you. Because he loves you, you can endure and he will bring your heart joy. "Weeping may endure for the night, but joy comes in the morning" (Psalm 30:5). If you aren't a follower of Jesus I would encourage you to come to him. He is inviting you to come to him and find true rest, true joy and true life. I lived the first 20 years of my life without him, and the last 9 years with him, and I can tell you there is no life apart from him. Anything you think you know about Jesus, forget it all and ask him to meet you. He is faithful, he is willing and he will meet you with a love that will not let you go.

Jonathan's Birth Story

On this day 4 years ago, I had been on bed rest in in the High Risk Pregnancy Unit of Florida Hospital for 1 week due to preterm labor. I had just slept through the night for the first time since being admitted there without a single contraction. I had been moved from Labor & Delivery to High Risk, back to L&D, back to High Risk, and this morning I was finally being moved to the Ritz of the High Risk rooms. I had a shower, a mini fridge, a big room where my mom and Jeff could visit with me and relax while I spent the remaining 16 weeks of my pregnancy on bed rest. My mom went to a nearby grocery store to get me some snacks and drinks to enjoy during my hospital stay. Jeff was packing up to head home to go to work, finally not concerned since it seems like my body was resting from a week of preterm contractions.

As he was preparing to leave, the nurse came in to give me the all-clear to take a shower: only my second one since being admitted. I was thrilled. I stood up to take a shower, and felt pressure in my pelvis that I hadn't felt before. I ignored it thinking it was due to me being bedridden for so long. Once I returned to bed the nurse came to check on me and I asked her if she would please check my cervix due to the pressure sensation I was feeling. She was in no hurry to do so since I was no longer contracting; "It's probably a UTI from being on bed rest," she assured me. We asked Jeff to wait to return to work for a minute while she got the on-call doctor to come check me out.

The doctor, nurse, and another medical resident came in and checked my cervix. "You haven't had any contractions?" she asked. "Nope!" I said confidently. Looking alarmed and concerned she informed the nurse that she could feel what she thought was either my baby's head, or the bag of amniotic fluid that he was  swimming in bulging through my cervix. I was dilated 4 centimeters, and my 24 week baby was coming.

"I HAVE A 24 WEEKER HERE!" the nurse was yelling as she rolled my bed, with me in it, into the hallway - back to the Labor and Delivery unit. "24 WEEKER!!" she would alarm everyone as she was rolling me down the hall. I was calm, I was embarrassed as stunned nurses and patients watched me roll by. This was the 3rd time I had been rushed to the labor unit in preparation for our baby to be born and I wasn't so sure he was coming today because I wasn't in labor.

She left me in my 5th new hospital room, and the labor and delivery nurse started asking all her questions. I began to feel some back pain and pressure that was new to me. After about 20 or 30 minutes I was writhing in pain. I felt like I was either going to puke, or poop, or both. I told my mom, "I don't know what's going on but I feel horrible!" "You're in labor, honey," my mom informed me.  "Oh," I thought, "this is what it's like. But I'm not supposed to be! I'm only 24 weeks pregnant! My baby isn't supposed to be born yet! The doctor said 30% chance of survival if I can't keep him inside me until 28 weeks!" I began to panic. "Don't push," the nurse said. That was like telling a drowning person not to try to breathe. I couldn't help it. My body began pushing my baby out, rejecting the life it was supposed to be protecting and nourishing.

A gush of fluid came out and Jeff ran out into the hallway to tell the nurses what had happened. I was taken across the hall into the operating room in case a c-section was needed. The doctor did an ultrasound and saw my baby's head was only 6 cm, and I was dilated 4. I had some sort of infection indicated by the color of my amniotic fluid. The baby had to come. I pushed, and delivered the top of his head. I pushed again and delivered his shoulders. Once more, I pushed and his hips, legs and feet were delivered. I am assuming this is how it happened, although I can't be sure because my eyes were closed most of the time, and all I could think was "This can't be happening...this can't be happening..." I opened them after he was born in just enough time to hear the tiny creature in the nurse's hands attempt to squeak before he was passed through what looked like a drive-through window. I heard Jeff exclaim, "Praise God!" and I thought how inappropriate it was to praise God at a time like this. What, exactly are we praising him for, because there is nothing here to be thankful for. I laid on the operating table as the nurses, medical students and doctor finished the delivery process. Mind blank, but also racing. Failure, embarrassment, and relief all coursed through my head and heart. I heard Jeff on the phone with his mom telling her the news and her hollering and crying.

 I can hardly remember what happened to me after that, except for being wheeled into the NICU in my wheelchair to see my newborn. He was laying on a warmer, like all babies, and he had 10 fingers and toes, perfectly formed. Everything was where it should be. But his eyes were sealed shut; his skin was almost transparent; he had no hair and reddish skin; his leg was as big around as my pinky. I was numb. I did not feel like this was my baby. No feelings of love washed over me. I just examined him and went to my hospital room.

Jonathan the day he was born.

A nurse came in and explained the process of pumping milk to me, and how important it was for my baby to have that once he was able to take milk instead of the concoction currently going through his IV. Then a doctor came in and explained he had a severe bacterial infection, and that in combination with the prematurity made him doubtful our baby would live to see the end of 72 hours. More numbness.

I didn't actually cry about any of this until the next day. My head and heart couldn't reconcile it with my faith or my expectations.

At that hospital, they would play a little lullaby tune every time a baby was born. You could hear it in the room, in the hall, even going to the cafeteria. Every time it played was like a dagger in my heart reminding me another bundle of joy was being brought into the world. I wondered if they played it when my baby was born? Probably not. He wasn't to be celebrated - he was an emergency to be put on life support.

The first time his daddy got to hold him.

I had no idea God had planned this for me since before I was born. I didn't know he used things like this to reveal himself to his sons and daughters. I didn't know in things like this, even this, that he was good and to be praised. Thank God for my experience!

Obviously our little emergency survived, and today is his 4th birthday. Our little miracle. He wasn't supposed to live; if he lived he wasn't supposed to walk or talk, and if he did those things it would be very poorly. But he was supposed to be born. My Father saw to it. All his ways are good. We are fearfully and wonderfully made, each one of us.

1000 Gifts

The other day me and my family went to the park after dinner to enjoy the warmer weather before bath and bed time.  The kids were playing with daddy and I was sitting on the swings.  I had a thought that was very unlike me: "I wonder how high I can swing on this swing?"  I got a good running start, hopped up, pulled myself back onto the swing and started pumping my legs.  My hair was blowing in the wind and I noticed Isaac was watching me, looking amazed.  Even Jeff was watching me with a big smile.  I was swinging high above them all, it was a strange feeling to be acting that way.  I normally would just sit on a bench, or sit on the swing and resist everyone's attempt to get mommy to play.  "I just want to rest!" is my usual response.  But not that day.

I just started reading a book by Ann Voskamp called One Thousand Gifts, and I'm only half-way through, but it's already had an impact on the way I see my every day life.  The gist of it is that thankfulness is at the root of living a joy-filled life; seeing the gifts in the every day.  The book birthed a  Joy Dare, where every day of the month you write down 3 gifts.  At her blog, A Holy Experience, Voskamp has some pretty (free) printables to help you to write you gifts down for that day.  I have printed out each month's ideas and glued them into a journal specifically for this purpose.  I have only started in January and didn't write every day, but I am already up to 55 gifts (and those are just the ones I took the time to write down!).

This exercise does two things for me:  one, it helps me to really see things in my life as opposed to just going through the motions, (or trying to get everything done that needs to be done and get the kids to bed for Pete's sake!)  Instead, I am looking for the things in my every day life that I take for granted.  Most days, I have my journal and pen lying in the dining room so I can jot something down at the moment I recognize it.  Secondly, doing this is like building up your spiritual bank account.  I acknowledge that God is good, and everything I have is a gift (James 1:17 says "Every good and perfect gift is from above, from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.")  But what about on the hard days?  When I get horrible news?  When things go terribly wrong?  I haven't had one of those days in a while and it's not a matter of if but when.  What will my response be?  When I'm going on a week of depression and discouragement?  Hopefully I'll have a tangible, visual record of all the grace God's shown me in my arsenal to combat the lies I'll be subjecting myself to in those dark times (because they will come).  I will need reminders that God is and has always been good.  As the book talks about, even in the dark times he is STILL good.

So if you still haven't figured out your new year's resolution, or like to take "challenges", try this one.  I can sometimes struggle with contentment, and get so bogged down in the daily to-do that I forget I am ALIVE!  My time on this earth is not guaranteed to be as long as I plan on it being.  I may not live to write another blog post.  I may not wake up in the morning.  The time is now to recognize how good and graciously God has dealt with me.  My kids pulling at my shirt tail for juice is a gift; the beautiful brown shades in our hardwood floors is a gift; the smell of a candle burning, a wet kiss from my toddler, a hot shower, eating dinner together, a car that's worn out because of all the places it's taken our fmaily: all good gifts that I may never live to see again.

So that's my speil.  Just thought I would share it with you because I think a lot of other people are like me and need to realize today is a gift, tomorrow isn't for certain: stop taking everything for granted and LIVE.

My confession (don't judge me)

It's funny what the Lord does when others are praying for you.  In the last post, I asked for prayer for our family, for boldness and courage to follow the Lord in his leading.  I had one specific issue in mind that I was not sharing with the public.  The Lord indeed gave us boldness and courage, but he did not lead us down the path that I was mentally referring to when I asked for these things.  

"Many are the plans in the mind of a man,
    but it is the purpose of the Lord that will stand."  - Provers 19:21

As many of you know, Jeff is a Church Planting Apprentice, which means he will hopefully be starting a new church body in our city.  We hope to have a women's ministry in that new church, as well as a children's ministry and of course I, being a mother and a woman, would love to serve in these ministries at our future church, and help my husband's ministry in this way.  However, the thought of it on top of being a stay-at-home mom, involved in small groups at church, being involved in MOPS, and being a nursing student is overwhelming to me.  I have never really been much a part of either type of ministry aside from helping out occasionally, and don't know the first thing about leading these types of teams.

Jeff and I began a conversation last night concerning these future church plant things, during which I became emotional and immediately bogged down in details and scheduling (that's just how my brain works, I am not a big picture type of person - I need to know when, how, who, and what am I gonna do with the kids?).  That conversation led to another about homeschooling, which I had already written off, for no particular reason other than a) I don't know how to do it and b) I am intimidated by it.  There's a lot of benefits to homeschooling though, but I am in nursing school so I won't have time to, and once I'm an RN I surely won't have time for it.  But I'll be making enough money to send my kids to a private school.  

I began to evaluate what I'm doing here.  As far as ministry, I really want to help but I have other things already going on. How am I supposed to do all these other things, too?  Maybe God will send a woman to join the church plant that is passionate and skilled at these ministries - problem solved, oh me of little faith.  As far as school, I have a wonderful, supportive family who keep my kids happy and safe while I study and attend class; we have enough money saved that we are not going into debt to pay for school; the material comes very easily to me, I make great grades and I really enjoy the subject content.  Once I graduate, I'll be making great money, have a flexible schedule, have a meaningful job, and finally be able to afford Christian school, a bigger house and cars that don't leak and creak.  All the stars align for me to do this now, and the future payoff will be totally worth it. 

But just because it is totally doable doesn't mean it should be done.  I started to look at the reasons why I was pursuing nursing school: money, recognition for being a hard worker and smart, the satisfaction of "doing it".  These things in and of themselves are not particularly bad, but they are bad for me.  I am drawing life from these things.  They make me feel worthy and important, like I am really doing something with my life.  What would my alternative be if I didn't do nursing school?  A thankless job of raising kids and making a home for my weary husband?  Staying home with my kids all day to play with and teach them?  Meeting my husband for lunch occasionally, or taking a vacation whenever we want?  Having a cleaner, more organized home that's always ready for visitors?  Nourishing my relationship with the Lord during nap time instead of scrambling to get chores done so I can do my school work?  Selflessly serving my family with no regard for tests or assignment due dates?  Being more available to learn from godly women how to serve the women and children in our church?  Reading for fun instead of grades?

Once I evaluated all of this I thought: this is crazy.  God is providing for me the things that bring true life, yet I am voluntarily bearing a burden and striving for things I don't need.  I heard the Lord's still small voice: 

And my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus. - Philippians 4:19

But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. - Matthew 6:33

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith 
- Hebrews 12:1-2

I am chasing worldly recognition and financial security by the work of my own hands (and I have a degree so technically I could go to work if ever I needed to without being an RN).  I have been on a hamster wheel of sinful self-reliance and seeking after the ooh's and ahh's from others (and let's be real, no one really gives two whoops what I'm doing!  How prideful and arrogant of me.)

The funny thing is as soon as this recognition comes, it is gone and I am striving after something else.  Yet I already have all the approval and adoration I could ever need because it comes from my heavenly Father in Jesus Christ.  I have the divine "Yes!", there is no other approval needed.  Seeking any other is sinful and self-exalting.  Jesus is calling me to step out of the boat of the security and values of the world, and onto the waves of faith and service where He is waiting; oh Lord, help my unbelief.  

So friends, thank you for the prayers, God has used them effectively and surely.   I won't serve patients on their death beds, but I will diligently teach my children and others about the One who overcame death for them.  I won't seek admiration from others for my work ethic, but long to hear acclaim from my Lord: "Well done, good and faithful servant."  In a moment of clarity, I surely have found my calling.  

From the Valley of Vision:

Lord, high and holy, meek and lowly,
Thou has brought me to the valley of vision,
where I live in the depths but see thee in the heights;
hemmed in by mountains of sin I behold
Thy glory.

Let me learn by paradox
that the way down is the way up,
that to be low is to be high,
that the broken heart is the healed heart,
that the contrite spirit is the rejoicing spirit,
that the repenting soul is the victorious soul,
that to have nothing is to possess all,
that to bear the cross is to wear the crown,
that to give is to receive,
that the valley is the place of vision."

Hello, again!

It's been a whiiiiiile since this blog was updated!  I thought I would resurrect it since writing is cathartic for me, and our family is on a pretty amazing journey with the Lord.  Jeff is a Church Planting Apprentice in our town, I am beginning nursing school, and we have our two amazing little boys.  

There are potentially some very exciting things on our family's horizon, and since we have so many family and friends who we don't see regularly I'd like to use this to stay up to date with you all.  

If you could, please be in prayer for our family that we would make wise decisions regarding our family, but that we would also be bold and courageous to do what we feel would honor the Lord the most (even if it's scary to us!).  

Thanks friends!  Be in touch soon!

Our family at Boktoberfest in Lake Wales.

Baby Pool

Some of your played in our family's baby pool.  People guessed Isaac's weight, length, birth date, birth time, and hair color.  The results are in...

DOB: 3/08/12
Time: 8:44 a.m.
Length: 20 inches
Weight: 7.14 lbs
Hair color: brown

My mom (Granny) was the overall winner.  She guessed 3/09 (my due date) as the birth day, 7:32 am as the time, 21" and 7.5 lbs with brown hair.  The rest of the people ranked:

Danielle S.
Uncle Rusty
Jeffrey (Daddy)
Nanny (Paula)
Uncle Ryan
The Blasio Family
Nanny Deese
Aunt Brittany
Papa (Jeff)
Brittany M.
Shannon L.
Tiffany B.

I wanted to think of something cute to give the winner, but since it's my mom I guess another healthy, handsome grandson will have to do :)

Isaac Jeffrey is here!

Our family has been home together since Saturday afternoon.  Isaac fits right in (of course!) and Jonathan is such a sweet big brother.  Here are some pictures from the first day they met, and the day Isaac and mommy came home.

Of course Jonathan is just a blur - he is such a busy body!



So sweet, already showing little brother some love.



The C-section went really well, everything was right on time!  We arrived at the hospital at 6 am and we were so excited to know we were going to meet our son. 



The final preggo belly picture

All the nurses we had were so amazing and kind, it helped to make this experience a positive one from the beginning.  Like I said in the last post, we had really high hopes for Issac's birthday.

They wheeled me in to the operating room around 8:15 and did the spinal, removed my cerclage, and then went to work on delivering the baby.  There was a huge light directly above me that was surrounded by a metal disk, and in its reflection I could see everything the doctors were doing.  It was so awesome to see a little butt, then a little back followed by a head being pulled out from my stomach.  Until I saw something I couldn't identify at which time I knew I should look away or toss my cookies.

They let me get a glimpse of Isaac but took him out of the room quickly because it is so cold in there.  As the doctors stitched me up Daddy went to get Isaac cleaned up.  Jeff is so not good with blood or anything relating to blood, but he cut Isaac's cord which really surprised me!

He also thought to take a lot of pictures and video of Isaac's first bath and everything else that I couldn't be there for since I was still in surgery.  He is such a good husband and daddy!

When I was finally able to meet Isaac I was so overwhelmed.  God has been SO good to us for no reason other than that HE is good, and he loves us. 

I pushed myself to get out of bed and walk to the bathroom that night so the nurses would allow Isaac to stay in the room with me alone (their policy is if you have IVs the baby cannot be alone with you in the room and I wanted daddy to sleep at home in his comfy bed).  I finally was able to pass all their tests around 11 so I was really happy about that.  I hardly slept a wink that night, I was so busy nursing and just looking at Isaac.  He is such a miracle in a totally different way than Jonathan, but still a miracle.

I was able to prove I was strong enough to go home 2 days later instead of the usual 3.  I missed my home and being with my family so much.  They sent me home with a lot of pain meds which has helped but here I am 4 days post surgery and I am still pretty sore, but getting better every day.

We are so excited about this new addition to our family - Jeff and I must say at least once a day, "Can you believe we have two sons?!"  It's so crazy, but so amazing.  There is nothing like it.  It's also so cool that having another child just makes your heart grow so much.  I worried I would miss the days of it being a family of 3, but Jonathan has been more joyful than ever since we've all been together, and Isaac has been a really easy baby so far as well. 

Remembering Jonathan's birth...

As we approach the birth of our second son, I have been thinking about the birth of our first.  Here is what happened.  I expect tomorrow to be much different...

Last June, I went into preterm labor (before 37 weeks pregnant).  I didn't know that was what was happening to me until I went to the Regency Hospital in my hometown and the doctor told me so.  He said the baby would likely not survive if we chose to have him, and if we wanted to be aggressive about saving him I could be flown to a hospital 30 miles away. 

Less than an hour later Jeff was driving as fast as he could to get to the hospital in Orlando, and I was en route by helicopter.  I was drugged up on magnesium sulfate which made me feel like my skin was burning from the inside out.  To make matters worse I was flying in a helicopter that was more like a fishbowl with no A/C.  The paramedics that were with me were sweating through their flight suits.  I felt bad for them.  I also physically felt bad, and I kept telling myself "Don't pass out, we're almost to the hospital..."  In hindsight, it may have been the perfect place to pass out seeing I had medical professionals with me.

Once I got to the hospital I was rushed to the labor and delivery floor where the doctors did an ultrasound and saw that the baby was ok.  The Mag (magnesium) was working and my contractions had stopped, but I was already 70% effaced (translation: there wasn't much barrier between my baby and birth).  I was so hot and thirsty.  Jeff was by my side keeping a wet wash cloth on my forehead.  He kept asking the doctor if I could have water and hours later he finally allowed me to eat some ice chips.  Around midnight I was allowed to eat, but anything I ate I threw up.

The rest of the night I tried to rest.  I had electronic monitors on my stomach to monitor my contractions and the baby's heart rate.  Since Jonathan was so little at that point (I was 23 weeks along), he kept moving away from the monitor and the nurse would have to come back and and readjust it.  Whenever I had to get up to use the bathroom, I had to wake Jeff up, have him help me unplug myself from the monitors and pull my IV cart with me.

Once the doctor felt sure I was not on the verge of delivering a baby, I was moved to the high-risk unit, for women who, for whatever reason, were in danger of having a baby.  The room we were in was the size of a shoebox.  There were much bigger, nicer rooms we were told, but they were all occupied and as soon as one became available we would be moved.  Jeff had to sleep in a recliner that reclined only to a 45 degree angle, so he had to sleep with his feet propped up on the bed as there was no room in our tiny room for an air mattress or cot.

I did pretty well in that tiny room.  I had contractions still, but they were not strong and my cervix was holding strong.  I had a medicine pump in my leg which is basically a needle attached to what looked like a pager (like what was cool before cell phones).  I kept the pager clipped to my hospital-issued underwear (those are SO sexy) and the needle was always in my thigh.  It gave me medicine every so often to keep the contractions away. 

After a couple of days we were awakened to the wonderful news that we would be movin' on up to the east side, ie the new high-risk rooms.  These rooms were spacious, had wonderful views, mini fridges and a lot of them had their own bathrooms (with showers!)  But wouldn't you know it, I went into labor not long after we were moved to our beautiful room.  So back to L&D we went, and if I remember correctly I was back on the Mag.

Hours later, once I was cleared again, we were at the bottom rung of the high risk rooms, and went right back to our shoebox.  It was only a day until we were moved to a better room, so we were thankful for that.

Once we got back to our nice room, we settled in.  I had my mom bring me a bunch of snacks for the mini fridge and got all my books and stuff situated in my bed-side table.  I was in it for the long-haul and had made it to 24 weeks (which is the "edge of viability" - the earliest a baby can be born and have a fair chance of survival). 

A few days later I awoke with a lot of pelvic pressure and feeling like I had to pee all the time.  The nurse thought I had a UTI so she was going to test me.  Jeff was preparing to head home as he had to prepare to lead worship at church.  I had a feeling that it wasn't a UTI and that something might be wrong (although I had no contractions for over 24 hours), so the nurse told Jeff to stay until a doctor could examine me.  A short time later, the doctor came in and did a pelvic exam.  "I'm not sure, but I think I feel the baby's head... Yes, that's a head.  She's 4 centimeters dilated." 

That was it.  I was being rushed back to L&D with the nurse loudly announcing to everyone "WE HAVE A 24 WEEKER!"  She kept telling me how remarkable it was that I was so calm and I thought "Why wouldn't I be?"  I wasn't having contractions, was in no pain, and thought they'd probably put me back on the Mag and things would go back to normal.

About an hour after they moved me to L&D, the contractions were hurting.  I was gripping the side of the bed and couldn't talk when they came on.  The nurses were acting like it was no big deal, so I was trying not to freak out although I knew this was very different from the other times I had been to L&D.  After about 15 minutes of the painful contractions I informed the nurse I was either going to puke or mess the bed because of the intense pressure I was feeling.  Her advice was "Don't push."  "Yeah right!" I thought.  My mom and Jeff were with me trying to keep me calm until the doctor could come see me.  I started feeling like I had to push or I'd die, so I did and my water burst.  Once that happened Jeff ran out into the hallway to get a nurse. 

After my water broke, I felt immediate relief and the contractions stopped.  Nonetheless, Jeff was suited up in his paper suit and we were being taken to the operating room.  The doctor did an ultrasound and saw I was dilated to 6 centimeters, and Jonathan's head was barely 5 cm.  "This baby is coming, you're going to have to push."  I couldn't bear to open my eyes.  I was hyperventilating and can remember the nurse telling me, "Blow out the candle...in through your nose out through your mouth...blow out the candle."  I wanted to hit her.  I didn't want to face that I had failed at staying pregnant and I certainly didn't want to deliver my baby 16 weeks before he was due.  But I pushed when they told me to, I think it was 3 times.  Once he was born I remember Jeff telling me to open my eyes and see my son.  I didn't want to.  I didn't want any of that to be happening because it was a sure death sentence for my first child.  But I did.  I heard him whimper once and then they passed him through what looked like a drive through window into the NICU.  The nurses all remarked how great it was that he made a tiny noise. 

I remember Jeff saying, "Praise God!" once Jonathan came out.  I thought to myself "Why is he saying that?  This is a horrible situation."

I laid on the table in a daze while the doctors and nurses did whatever they had to do to me.  I tried to block everything out.  I felt ashamed and like a failure.

About an hour or so later I was put in a wheelchair and taken to the NICU to see my son, Jonathan, which means "gift from God".  I had never seen anything so tiny and helpless as he laid there squirming, IVs running through his tiny body, eyes fused shut.  I didn't have much experience with newborns, but I knew they weren't supposed to look like that.

Later we were put in our new room on the maternity floor.  I could hear babies being rolled up and down the hallway, where their mothers were waiting in their rooms to nurse their little bundles of joy and cuddle with them.  I, on the other hand, got cozy with a breast pump and waited for the visit from the neonatologist.

The news was grim: Jonathan was born at less than 2 pounds with an E. Coli infection in his bloodstream, and it may or may not be in his spinal fluid and brain.  His lungs were severely underdeveloped.  In short, he was very sick and all things considered the outlook was not good.  The doctor told us he would know more if Jonathan survived the next 48 hours.

Until I was discharged from the hospital a couple of days later, I would pump and Jeff and I would take the milk down to the NICU where it would be put in a freezer for if and when Jonathan was ready to tolerate it.  We spent a lot of time by his incubator praying for him and crying, but trying to be strong in front of our family, who was as distraught as we were.  I can remember one day in the cafeteria with my mom where I finally broke down crying, saying "I should still be pregnant.  It isn't fair that he is struggling to live.  He should still be safe inside me."  I had to be reminded that he was sick inside of me and had he not been born, he might have died.

The day I was discharged, we were blessed to have a room at the Ronald McDonald House to go to, so we were only a block away.  I had been at the hospital for a week already, though, so we had a lot of stuff to take with us.  I had been given flowers and an "It's a Boy!" balloon, which was tied to the wheelchair.  As I was being wheeled out with all my stuff and my balloon, I tried to avoid all the looks that asked "Where is the baby?"

I cried driving the block from the hospital to the McDonald House because we were leaving our baby behind in a medical institution, and there was no body and no amount of money that could get him out.

116 days later, we were finally able to bring him home with us.  We had dreamed of that day for so long, and a few times we thought death would claim our son before we had the chance to bring him home.  But thank God for saving our son.  Jonathan has lived up to his name in every sense; God has truly given us such a great gift.

Jonathan the day he was born, and now at 20 months old.

Tomorrow morning around 8:30 we will meet our second son, Isaac.  I'm not sure what his birth story will be like, but God is faithful and he is good; I have high hopes. 

If you want to read more in detail about Jonathan's hospital stay, click on the CaringBridge link at the top of the page.
 

The last Monday I'll be pregnant

So maybe it's not THE last Monday, but for this go-round it is!

For my friends and family who haven't seen me lately -

39 weeks and looking very round.

Me and Jonathan - he is so silly!

March is a big month for us.  On top of having a new baby, my mother-in-law, myself, and my sister-in-law all have birthdays this month.  Our wedding anniversary is this month.  AND the Hunger Games comes out!  I am really looking forward to what else the Lord has in store for us besides what's on my calendar. 

God willing, the next time I post it will be to show off a beautiful newborn boy!  Three more days...

We're having a baby this week!!

This is one of the most exciting posts I've written!

The baby has been breech for months, so my doctor has scheduled a c-section for this upcoming Thursday.  The hospital called yesterday to give me all the info I would need to be ready.  I think the hardest part is going to be going without food or coffee in the morning, but then again I will be so excited I think I'll manage!  If I was smart, I would have weaned myself from coffee by now, but we just got a Keurig so there's no way that's gonna happen now - those things make coffee fun!

I spent the day getting last-minute things done:  cleaning the ball-and-chain (aka Medela pump); buying replacement pump parts and slow flow nipples; gathering clothes that need to be washed in the special baby detergent; and getting our family's new ride - a minivan!  That's right, we have a minivan.  I never thought I'd drive one (I actually always said I'd never drive one.  But as a young, wise, baby-faced, Canadian-born pop singer said: "Never say never.")  Anyway, after comparing multiple cars in our price range nothing compared to the van for a family with 2 car seats and a 75lb furry son (aka Wesley, our chocolate lab).

If you are reading this, I hope you are as excited as we are!

Full Term baby!! (PS I am not a theologian).

We made it!  Thirty seven weeks pregnant - I have to admit there was a time when we doubted if we'd get this far.  I am so relieved and can't wait to meet our healthy, chunky termie!  FYI: termie is what parents of preemies/people-in-the-know call full-term babies. ;)

I wanted to share that info. but I also wanted to share something of a more spiritual significance and I hope someone can benefit from it as I did.

To begin, I read my Bible using Professor Horner's Bible Reading System.  If you click on the name it will take you to a pdf that explains it - I highly recommend it for many reasons, one being that you cover 10 chapters a day, some are in the Old Testament and some in the New.  Some days, like today, the chapters overlap and a theme emerges that makes me think, "Hmm, guess that is an important concept to God."

I began in Numbers 11.  The Israelites are complaining about the "good ol' days" back in Egypt where although they were slaves, they had all the food they wanted, but now all they had to eat was manna (but they were free).  So God tells Moses that the people will have enough quail to feed them for days; they'll have so much they'll be sick of it.  And Moses replies, "God, we have over 600,000 soldiers with us!  Even if we kill every animal we own and catch every fish in the sea it won't be enough."  Of course, he forgets he is talking to the CREATOR of the UNIVERSE.  But instead of belittling Moses, God just says, "Is there any limit to my power?"

Lesson: God doesn't like when we complain so don't do it, and don't doubt God's resources.

After that chapter, following the reading system, I go to 2 Corinthians 6 where Paul describes all the hardships he has endured.  Throughout all the beatings, starving, freezing, sleepless nights and heartache, he still recognizes that there is great hope in Jesus.  He doesn't look at his relationship with God in terms of all the bad things that have happened to him - he views it despite them.  He still talks about his "purity, understanding, patience, kindness, love and power of the Holy Spirit."  He has every right to be sick and tired of it all, but he clings to these fruits of the Spirit and finds peace and relief in them.

Lesson:  I haven't been through anything as bad as Paul describes, yet when life stresses me out, I neglect to see the great gifts God has given me in my life.  Not material things, but the intangible eternal things, like the ones Paul mentions.  Circumstances shouldn't dictate my attitude - Jesus should.

So all this is starting to click in my head now.  Next in the system is 1 Peter 5.  In verses 6-7 Peter says, "So humble yourselves under the mighty power of God, and in his good time he will honor you.  Give all your worries to God, for he cares about what happens to you."  Later in verses 10-11 he says, "In his kindness, God called you to his eternal glory by means of Jesus Christ.  After you have suffered a little while, he will restore, support, and strengthen you, and he will place you on a firm foundation.  All power is his forever and ever.  Amen." (emphasis mine)

Lesson:  I am going to suffer, but that doesn't mean God doesn't care about what happens to me.  He is kind, and he promises to provide for me from his unlimited resources.

To top it all off, I then read Psalm 121: 

¹ I look up to the mountains—
does my help come from there?
² My help comes from the LORD,
who made heaven and earth!

³ He will not let you stumble;
the one who watches over you will not slumber.
⁴ Indeed, he who watches over Israel
never slumbers or sleeps.

⁵ The LORD himself watches over you!
The LORD stands beside you as your protective shade.
⁶ The sun will not harm you by day,
nor the moon at night.

⁷ The LORD keeps you from all harm
and watches over your life.
⁸ The LORD keeps watch over you as you come and go,
both now and forever.

This is what put me over the top and I thought, "I have to write this down!"  So I decided to share publicly in case there was someone else out there who God is trying to reach with his message of perseverance under trails.  We can keep going and we can even be HAPPY (?!) when we face trials because God LOVES us and he is keenly aware of all we are going through!

As my due date approaches, I have found myself becoming more and more anxious.  Since the baby is still breech, the doctors did not remove my cerclage.  Since they didn't remove it, I need to report to the hospital immediately once I start having contractions so they can remove it and I can dilate without injuring myself (assuming the baby has flipped head-down).  However, if the baby is still breech chances are they will administer an emergency c-section and remove the stitch at that time.  I have been having Braxton Hicks contractions lately that are much stronger than before, so I am constantly wondering, "OK, is this it?  Should I be getting ready to go?"  I am trying to mentally prepare myself for the hard work of labor, but I may have a c-section and not need to worry about pushing and breathing through contractions.

BUT, in light of everything I just shared with you, I am wasting my time with these thoughts.  I even wasted my time and yours by writing that last paragraph because the God of the universe, who has the power to raise people from the dead, is creating this baby inside of me and he will bring him into the world just the way he wants.  God cares about me, and the baby.  He wants me to be at peace and to trust him.  He has given me a full-term pregnancy and I have not had one single issue during the last 37 weeks, praise God for that! 

To sum it all up (I am speaking to myself here, but you probably need to hear this too):  STOP COMPLAINING!  The Lord is trying to do work in your life, and it will be an awesome work because he is infinitely more wise than us and he loves us!  Stop longing for the "easier times", and stop looking at the negatives.  Remember all the good that there still is; dwell on the blessings you have despite the tough circumstances you are in.  Then, as Peter said, "After you have suffered a little while, he will restore, support, and strengthen you, and he will place you on a firm foundation. All power is his forever and ever. Amen"

³³ Seek the Kingdom of God above all else,

and live righteously, and he will give you everything you need.

³⁴ “So don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries.

Today’s trouble is enough for today."

-Matthew 6:33-34

Heads or tails?

We have made it to 35 weeks pregnant!

At the beginning of this pregnancy our goal was to get to 28 weeks, and God has exceeded what we asked and hoped for!  We are so excited to meet our little man, who had a name until last night when Mommy started second-guessing it.

I weigh more than I ever have (which in this case is a good thing!).  I am incapable of taking a flattering picture at this point in pregnancy but here is the idea:

Baby is still breech (heads) so we are hoping he flips soon (tails).  I read about some techniques that supposedly help a breech baby flip, and I even tried them, but I wasn't comfortable doing them so I am just going to wait it out and see if he flips or not.  When I'm reading or watching tv my hand always wanders to feel for his head up by my ribs (where it always is), and every day that goes by it seems like he is most comfy there.  Worst case scenario, he stays breech and I have a c-section, but then I get a baby with a pretty little head instead of a cone-head! :)

So the countdown is on.  We still haven't gotten the office ready to be an office/nursery.  We actually aren't even sure the office will be the nursery.  We have an awesome swing and bassinet ready to go while we try to figure it out, though.

So head up or down, natural or c-section, one way or another this baby is coming soon!

Wow, it's been over a month since the last post.  I guess I have been busy nesting and resting and not thinking about writing. 

The biggest thing that we've experienced is Jonathan starting to walk.  This would be a great place to insert a video but I don't have one (what a bad mommy!).  I do have a picture of him mid-stride, though.



Hands up and out to the sides and laughing as he walks.

Obviously, we were so excited when he started taking his own steps.  He still crawls when he needs to get somewhere quickly (like down the hall to his room), but almost half the time he prefers to walk.

He has also learned to identify things using words.  A few of the words in his arsenal: pup-pah (puppy), meh (meow, which he says when he sees our cat), cah (car), baou (ball), tuh-DOU (touchdown...don't ask why he knows this).  Then he has code words that only we know the meaning of:  ha HA ha means he wants to watch a Three Little Pigs cartoon he is currently obsessed with; bah bah BAH bah is Brown Bear Brown Bear; ba ba BA is Yo Gabba Gabba.  It might sound far-fetched but I am telling the truth: we have decoded some if his jibber jabber.  There are still some things that he says that I have no idea what he means, but the important thing is that he is communicating!

I am now in my third trimester (33 weeks to be exact).  It isn't as bad as the first, but it is pretty uncomfortable.  We have made it almost 10 weeks further than we did with Jonathan which is so amazing to us!  We never thought I'd be pregnant for so long and it is such a blessing to be able to experience this and have the peace of mind that this baby will (hopefully) have a much less eventful beginning to his life than his brother Jonathan did.  I am scheduled to have the cerclage removed on Feb. 15, my last day of being 36 weeks pregnant (that's 1 day shy of being full-term).  BUT so far baby James is breech.  If he doesn't flip by then, they will not remove the stitch and schedule me for a C-section, then remove the stitch at the same time.  I know C-sections happen all the time, but I am really looking forward to labor (weird, I know) and will be disappointed if I can never experience that (our local hospital does not do VBAC). 

BUUUUUT God is sovereign and He knows what way is best for me and James, and whatever God ordains is right. 

Jeff is still in school at RTS in Orlando.  He is gearing up to start his Spring semester and has already begun yet another online class.  I can tell when he is starting new classes because a steady stream of books starts to arrive in the mail.  We bought a huge bookshelf about a year ago, and we have a good collection of books then, but now it's overflowing like crazy.  Almost all the books on there are theology-related, and about 1/3-1/4 are books that have been purchased just since Jeff started seminary.  I have never seen a person go through so many books in such a short amount of time!  But, I have never lived with someone pursuing a Master's degree, either, which is in a whole other league compared to a Bachelor's, not to mention that RTS is a prestigious school so they are going to make you work to be able to call yourself an alumnus.  How he does it all while still performing his duty at church and being an AWESOME dad and husband I will never know!  But thank God he is able.

So that's the Skipper household in a nutshell.  I wanted to write about an awesome series I have been reading on the meaning of marriage based on Paul's teaching in Ephesians 5, but that will have to wait.  So much good stuff in there, though!  If you want to read it yourself, here are the first 2 parts:

Part 1: A Picture Perfect Marriage

Part 2: The Wife's Role

6 Months Pregnant and Wiser

We are 26 weeks and 4 days pregnant, which is 15 days further along than we were when Jonathan was born (yes, this is how I measure my pregnancy - by how much further we are this time!).

24 weeks pregnant with current baby boy.

23 weeks pregnant with Jonathan.

I am going through some new things that I didn't get to with Jonathan, such as maternity pants becoming too tight; stretch marks; forceful kicks to the bladder; becoming easily winded; drinking disgusting liquid for a glucose test (that's tomorrow so technically I haven't experienced it yet but I hear it's unpleasant); and weighing more than I ever thought I would.

Because of all this, it's common for women in my stage of pregnancy to start to phase out of second trimester bliss and into third trimester misery.  I am susceptible to that, but I just read a letter written to a preemie named Charlotte by her mom, and it hit me hard (you can read it here).  How can I possibly complain about this?  Have I already forgotten the sleepless nights, the constant burden of having a baby who was born too small and too soon?  Is it possible I don't remember the weight of knowing I couldn't just take my baby and go home, yet somehow I was expected to take care of myself?  I have been so caught up in life as I now know it, that the horrors of the NICU seem like a distant memory; carrying my newborn around as he is connected to a continuous flow of oxygen and strapped to make sure he is breathing and his heart is beating is a faint memory.  I hardly remember the hours of physical therapy we have been through - some of it so strenuous that Jonathan would cry for 20-30 minutes straight while the therapist tried to teach him the most basic developmental skills that came unnaturally to him because he spent so much time laying flat in the hospital.

How dare I take one second of this pregnancy for granted; how could I possibly complain about any of this?  God was (and is) so good - He brought our baby Jonathan through what seemed like certain death and he is the light of our lives.  And now God is giving us another great gift by allowing our second son to stay safe inside of Mommy where he should be.  And if that makes me uncomfortable then so be it!

It's sad that after all we've been through I can so easily forget that pregnancy is nothing compared to the nightmare that is prematurity, and I am not exaggerating.  But this is my wake-up call and I will not complain.  I lost the privilege to be one of those complaining pregnant ladies who says, "I can't wait to get this baby out,"; prematurity stole it from me just as it stole the joy that comes with having your first baby; I was robbed of being wheeled out of the hospital with my newborn and everyone telling me "Congratulations!"  Instead, I couldn't bear to open my eyes to see the birth of my son - I felt ashamed and saddened that he was born; people gave me weird looks as I was wheeled out of the hospital with flowers and "It's a boy!" balloons, but no baby.  No matter how thankful I am for our son Jonathan, I would never want to endure that situation again.

Now it looks like I will get that chance to have a "normal" pregnancy.  We have 3 more months to go, and I thank God for every day I get to experience.  And I recognize I wouldn't realize the brightness of this gift if it weren't for the darkness I experienced by it being taken from me.

My Prematurity Rant

I usually don't get caught up in "celebrity" stuff, but being Prematurity Awareness month I can't hold my tongue. 

Michelle Duggar (of the TLC show 19 Kids and Counting) is pregnant AGAIN.  She had her last baby at 25 weeks due to severe preeclampsia (read about her last pregnancy here).  She has an estimated 60% chance of developing that condition again with this pregnancy, to which the only cure is delivering her baby; so she has a 60% chance of having an extremely premature baby, who in turn has a high chance of not surviving, or suffering from life-long medical complications (read about extreme prematurity here). 



As you probably know, I had an extremely premature baby last year (at 24 weeks).  Doctors are still not positive why he came so early, but they think it was due to an infection of the amniotic fluid, or an incompetent cervix.  I had a surgical procedure to strengthen my cervix (I am currently 22 weeks preggo and holding strong!), and I am being monitored for any infections or signs of preterm labor.  In short, although I had one preemie, the odds are not in my favor of having another one (unlike the Duggar baby  machine).  I'm saying this to qualify myself as someone who can speak her 2 cents.

You may be asking "Why does it matter if she has another one?"  Well, for one thing, the nature of preeclampsia is so dangerous, that seeing as she already has 19 kids and 2 gandkids, it is an extreme risk to impose on herself and her unborn baby.  Along with the stress on the rest of the family that accompanies having a baby in intensive care, preemies as early as hers is likely to be have medical problems that last long after hospital discharge.  My son Jonathan, for example, is 16 months old and is still undergoing physical therapy; breathing treatments; brain MRIs every 6-12 months; and monthly vaccinations to protect him from a common cold virus (RSV).  And he is considered a 24-weeker miracle!  Many babies born before 28 weeks have all these problems but to a more debilitating degree.

In addition to the health risk to her and her baby, a preemie costs a lot of money.  I am sure the Duggars' insurance and money from their TV show is sufficient to pay any hospital bills, but taxpayers can still end up footing at least some of the bill  Any baby born below 1200 grams automatically qualifies for disability under SSI and receives Medicaid during and for up to a year after their hospital stay.  NICUs are expensive places:  Jonathan's total bill was over $1,000,000, and he was only there 4 months!  (I say "only" because there are many babies, some born later than him, who stay much longer).  If you continue to qualify for Medicaid after discharge (which baby Duggar may or may not), it pays for all medical treatments then, too.

In short, considering the tremendous burden she is putting on her body, plus the cost of having a preemie and the health risk she is running with her unborn baby I say why take a chance on having another unhealthy pregnancy and birth?  It is not fair to the baby, knowing that he or she may have to fight for their life for months in a hospital.  It isn't fair to ask your family to sacrifice and go through the horrible NICU experience again.  In some cases, having a preemie is preventable, even if that means you just don't get pregnant anymore.  Having a uterus does not mean you should use it!

Side note:  I realize there is a chance she will have a totally healthy pregnancy and carry full term, and I sincerely pray that is God's plan for her.  I know God can heal and accomplish things when doctors and statistics say it isn't possible.  That being said, I still believe in human responsibility and decision-making.  I could consider walking across I-4 as cars zoom by at 70 MPH and trust that God loves me and will care for me, but the chances of me getting hit and killed by a car are so good that I probably wouldn't take that chance.  God loves me so much that he gave me a functional brain with which to process such information and make the best decision I can.  I am thankful for that, and pray others would use their brains, too.

Thanks for letting me rant!

20 Weeks Preggo!

Since the last blog post I have gotten more pregnant, yay!  I have seen the doctor probably 3 times since the last post, and each time everything looked great!  We are so encouraged that we will carry closer to full-term (if not all the way).  I guess I will have to post the obligatory belly picture soon since I am starting to show.  The baby is moving constantly, and I love to feel him or her kicking and squirming, and watching my belly jump around.  I can't help but think of Psalm 139:13-16 that say,

For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.

It is so comforting to know that while we can see an imperfect picture of our baby on a sonogram, the Lord sees him or her perfectly, and is forming that little body inside of me; each day of his or her life is already known by Him.  Thank God nothing comes as a surprise to Him!

We go to the Maternal-Fetal doctor next Friday for yet another check up.  We haven not decided if we will find out the baby's gender, but getting ultrasounds every 2 weeks is making it very hard to hold out til March!  Once we hit 24 weeks preggo, I think the ultrasounds and doctor appts. are not going to be as frequent.  The goal is 40 weeks, but 23 weeks is when I went into preterm labor with Jonathan, so these upcoming weeks the doctors are going to be watching me and baby like hawks.

Speaking of baby J, today would have been his due date and first birthday!  Crazy that he is already 15 months old.  Like the Psalm above said, the Lord had each of his days ordained from conception, and although we weren't expecting J to come 16 weeks early, God was.  We thank Him every day for the mercy and faithfulness He showed us in the NICU, and even now.  Jonathan is the light of our lives and such a testimony to the power of prayer and the goodness of God.

Jonathan hanging out with Daddy on Little Gasparilla Island.

The weather has finally cooled off a little here, it is in the 50s outside right now, but it will warm up to the low 70s later.  I have a pumpkin cooking in the crock pot for some homemade whole wheat pumpkin muffins, no canned pumpkin in this house!  We'll see how those turn out (you can get the recipe here).  One thing is for sure: this Fall weather really makes me feel domestic!

The much-anticipated cerclage surgery

Yesterday I had the cerclage surgery that I have kind of been dreading.  The main reason was because of the anesthesia, which turned out to be not so bad.  We got to Florida Hospital around 5:30 am and I got called back about 40 minutes later.  They started my IV and I met one of the nurses named Karl.  He was really friendly so that helped ease my nerves.  Then I met the anesthesia team and they were also really friendly - so far, so good.

Once I got back to the OR they had me sit on a table and prop my feet up on a stool, hugging a pillow - the position for an epidural or a spinal (I had the spinal).  I had heard from my pregnant friends that epidurals (which are very similar to spinals) involve big needles and are painful, so this is why I was dreading it the most.  I was hooked up to a heart monitor that beeped with each beat of my heart, so as they sanitized the skin on my back, I would start to think about a big needle aimed at my spinal cord and the beeps would get faster.  I tried deep breathing to bring them back down because I didn't want the whole room to know how nervous I was.  I'm sure they could see it all over my face though because they were all talking to me about pretty much whatever they could think of.  That was really nice of them. 

The nurse anesthetist numbed the area first, so once she got to administering the actual anesthesia, it just felt like someone firmly pressing on my spine, and it was no where near as bad as I thought it was going to be.  They extracted some of my spinal fluid, then replace it with the drugs that made me numb from the waist down.  Within minutes my feet started to feel like they were asleep, and the sensation spread up my legs.  As I described what I was feeling and asked if it was normal, the nurse assured me it was, and looked very pleased that I was feeling that way.  The surgery team laid me down, hung a cloth in front of my face so I couldn't see anything, and the doctor got to work.  The other nurses and nurse anesthetists talked to me for the next 20 minutes while an IPOD that was on shuffle played everything from Whitney Houston to Lady Gaga.  It was such a relaxed environment and once the surgery was over, I was so happy that it had gone nothing like I thought it would.

In the recovery room, I had to keep trying to bend my knees and lift my hips off the bed to prove the numbness was gone.  After about an hour, I passed that test and got to move to a second recovery room, and Jeff was able to join me.  I finally got to eat some crackers and have some Gatorade, since I was ordered not to eat or drink anything after midnight the night before my surgery.  Jeff and I looked at pictures of Jonathan on his phone, and watched an episode of some Gordon Ramsay show where he traveled to India and made Indian food from ant eggs and such.  For my final test I had to use the bathroom.  As I got up to walk over there, my knees almost buckled under my weight.  As I clung to the nurse and Jeff, I was able to make it to the bathroom.  Sadly, there was no action in there and I had to stumble my way back to bed.  I downed the rest of my Gatorade and waited.  After almost 2 hours, a bottle of Gatorade and 1 1/2 liters of IV fluid, I began to worry that I would never be able to use the bathroom (even though I really had to), but I decided I had to try again, and I managed just enough for the nurses to let me go.  I was in so much pain from my bladder still being full and from the surgery that I was not very happy on the way home.  I got feeling back to my hips and abdomen about an hour later though and it was glorious!

Since then, I have been taking Indomethacin to help with the cramping I get occasionally as a result of the stitch.  My entire spine is sore as well, and when I can't take it anymore I take a Hydrocodone and fall asleep.  I try not to take too much medicine for the baby's sake, even though both are fine for pregnant women. 

So, that's my surgery story.  I go for a follow up in 2 weeks to make sure the stitch is holding up and my cervix isn't getting shorter.  I have been instructed to be a couch potato for the next week, which is kind of nice right now because I am still dealing with some soreness.  But once I start feeling better, it will be hard.  I also can't pick my baby up anymore and that it SUPER hard!  But in 6 months, hopefully we will see the fruit of all this. 

The hormones of pregnancy and our experience the last time has made it hard for me to be super positive about the cerclage.  Something like 90% of women who have one carry full term, which is encouraging.  But I can't get rid of this "wait and see" mentality.  I think it will be easier for me to be more positive once I get past 24 weeks (God willing).  I know that God is with me, but I don't know what He has in store for me with this pregnancy and to be honest, that's hard.  I know what the Bible says about worrying, and my future, and God's sovereignty.  Even still, it's hard.  But I am trying to pray myself into trusting Him no matter what, and not worrying about the "what-ifs".  I know my family and friends are praying the same for me.  And so far, this pregnancy is a million times better than the last one, so that should count for something, right?  At least we know what to watch for and are trying to prevent it from happening. 

So, here's to carrying full term!  Only 25 weeks to go...