Miscarriage

Yesterday will be a day that is forever etched in my mind and heart. Stephen and I have been sitting on top of a big secret for the past four months but it all changed within the blink of an eye. We found out yesterday that the sweet baby we were expecting passed away sometime after my twelve week appointment. 

I knew something was wrong when they couldn’t find the heartbeat with the Doppler and had two people try. Then, another professional with and ultrasound machine came in and I’ve seen enough ultrasound images to know that the baby wasn’t moving and wriggling around like it had just three weeks ago. Numbness came over me as people came in and out of the room as they tried to make a game plan. Everything was compounded by the fact that my doctor was in a delivery and not able to be at the appointment. It didn’t feel real and still doesn’t. It’s hard to believe that for 11 weeks I found my myself hovering over sinks and toilets and to make it to what is considered to be the safe zone in pregnancy, only to be reminded that there is no safety net.  Life is precious and I don’t understand why this has happened, but ultimately I’m left to trust that God has a better plan. 

Look, life is difficult and our lives haven’t been void of pain and heartache. This is yet another “thing” to add to a list of “things” that you don’t ever want to experience. We’re now in the middle of this, waiting to hear from the doctor on what’s next. Most likely I will be admitted to the hospital later this week for a procedure of some kind to be done. I’m more anxious about that than being swallowed by grief. My heart is heavy knowing that we’ve lost one of the most precious gifts and blessings that this life has to offer, but I am not overcome. Yesterday as they preformed all the ultrasounds, I watched my TWO wild and crazy little boys run around the room opening doors and making trouble. Both of which are very much so our miracles and daily reminders that God’s plan is sufficient and good. I’ve seen Him work in ways that I can’t even comprehend but I know He is present and in this miscarriage with us. Our pain is real and I’m sure that the next few weeks will be trying as we sift through and process what’s happened, but we won’t give up. We will continue to press on and know that God WILL provide. 

Weeding Through Emotions

As I stood above his crib, watching his little body sleep, I couldn't help but feel a little heartbroken, mixed with sheer love that I have for our special Easton Bauer. As most of you are aware, Easton has been through more in his short 22 months of age, that others won't even come close to experiencing in their entire lifetime. To add yet another complexity to the heaping mound, this past Monday I took him to a developmental pediatrician where she gave us her medical opinion of having an early suspicion of autism. While she didn't clinically diagnosis him, she wants us to be very cautious over the next six months, watching how he grows, interacts, and develops. To say that it's been a tough week-mentally, for me, as a mom, would be an understatement. I have this sweet cotton top, blue eyed boy, with a very complex heart and his current limitations are already an uphill battle. Now, add to that, the medical claim that he is exhibiting characteristics of another disorder, and enter a heart broken mother. Autism is not a terrible diagnosis, or doesn't have to be, but oh how I had another realm of parenting expectations shattered. I'm just sad for my boy. I hurt when he hurts, even when he doesn't know he is supposed to hurt. The beauty of being a kid is that you don't know any different. You don't know the struggle it is for your parents to carry around heavy burdens, you don't know you have a crippling disease that will have several limitations on your life, and you don't know that being an adult is harder than it looks. Once having been a kid, and then taught kids, all I wanted to do and often heard kids say was they wanted to be an adult, but "adulting" is hard. It's fun but comes with its own set of problems and realities. How many times do we, as adults, catch ourselves saying, "Oh to be young again!" But in reality, I wouldn't change it. Even though life is consistently keeping us on our toes and Easton continues to maintain his special needs, life is still good. Sure, we're in the knee deep, raw and nitty-gritty of life, but everywhere around me, I can see God's blessings and mercies (when I choose to look). Easton IS alive! His heart IS working! God bless that crazy little complex heart of his that allows him to keep going, day in and day out! His life is a miracle and even when we are faced with less than stellar news, we get the pleasure of doing life as family of four. I don't know if that will always be the case, so why do I find myself over analyzing the mess out of what a doctor might think he has, when it robs my joy of enjoying him today?

Last weekend, I spent two painful hours gardening, which really equated to pulling a bunch of dumb weeds. It was hard and as I was doing it, I found myself looking around at neighbors flowers beds that looked perfectly manicured (done my someone else I'm sure...and thinking about why we couldn't just figure out how to pay someone to do ours too😂). But, as I was pulling all my weeds, I know they have the same darn things in their flower beds. I'm finding that my own weeds are comprised of fear and anxiety but they manifest differently in everyone's lives). It was easy to look at my neighbors' yards and think that they weren't doing any hard work but comparison happens to be a thief of joy...when who am I kidding, we've all got  weeds. Do you know what happens to grow amongst the weeds and in the exact same soil as weeds...that's right, flowers. It's just that sometimes the weeds are so distracting that I forget to stop and just enjoy the flowers. Take this week for example. I've been so caught up in my own anxieties and insecurities about Easton, that it has robbed me of enjoying all of the blessings in my life. Life is hard. Weeds suck and are hard to pull up. On the surface they pull easily but sometimes they are deep rooted and it takes a lot of patience and prayer and consistency to get to the root. My prayer for the rest of the week is to pray for those things, diligently. To pray for my own heart in the matter, to find where I'm being persistent to a fault, just looking for things to go wrong or how Easton just did another "odd" behavior. He's not even two and has a lot of growing to do, but then again, so do I. Being a special needs parent is really daunting but really rewarding. My hope this week is that I would be able to trust in Jesus to sustain my heart and mind, to enjoy the "flowers," even when it feels like I'm surrounded by absorbent amount of weeds.

So, what's ahead for our sweet Easton, who's laugh is infectious and has a playful disposition. Well, we wait and watch how he develops and interacts with others over the next six months. With his heart and condition being so complex, he hasn't had the opportunity to be around many toddlers and kids, so as we're finding our rhythm and meeting other heart families, and families who want to help us acclimate to the area, we're making play dates and being intentional with others. Easton's complex little heart is helping us be more intentional with new families up at the hospital, walking the same road we started almost two years ago. We do know that Easton does have some sensory issues, along with a severe speech delay (and an eating disorder) and he is really too little to diagnosis with anything. What he lacks in words, he makes up in laughs and silliness, as he continues to remind his momma that weeds and flowers grow in the same soil.

Wide Load

This morning the boys were sitting quietly and playing (in their respected areas) and my heart couldn’t help but feel burdened and weary. It’s hard to pinpoint the exact point in time where life seemed to shift in unexpected ways, but in all honesty, each one of us has had shattered expectations when it comes to life. Sure, my life is complicated and we’ve walked through a lot that most haven’t had to, but we aren’t the only ones struggling. I’m not the only one with a “wide-load” bumper sticker stamped on my forehead. I say wide load because lately when I’m out with the boys, pushing the double stroller, for some reason, I must look like an 18 wheeler on interstate with an additional truck behind me carrying that bright yellow “wide load” sign with flashing lights. I normally just chuckle and say no, but as I keep plowing along and begin to think, I do have a wide load…I come with a lot of baggage. AND that’s ok (or that’s what I’m realizing)
I think most of us probably do. I don’t necessarily have any skeletons in my closet, but life has been, well life. It’s hard. It’s riddled with the mountains that need moving, but not void of the joys and pleasures that come with doing life-with a spouse, with family, with community.

As I continue to stroll around the store (with my wide load), encountering people, there’s a four word question that Is quickly becoming a pet peeve of mine, “How are you doing?” Do people I see in the grocery store, or at the park, or just anywhere, really want to know how I’m doing? As I think about my life as of late, what should I pick to share...the heartache of an infertility battle that we fought through( and won). A high risk pregnancy. A baby born with a complex and rare form of heart disease, who is praise God, growing into a toddler (and complete boy). About getting pregnant just six months of Easton’s life and his first open heart surgery. A second open heart surgery for my 13 month old, being 37 weeks pregnant with Bennett. Having a life in two cities for healthcare purposes. Deciding to move. Looking for jobs. Putting our house on the market and Stephen leaving his last job that took care of us so well. Getting into a really awful work situation and leaving that job. Our house selling but no where to go. Finding a new job. Living with my parents, with our kids for two months. Single parenting while Stephen is in Houston working and me back with my parents. How much COBRA cost. Our new house. Stephen’s new job (which he is enjoying). Another heart CATH…..AND THE LIST CAN GO ON AND ON AND ON. When people ask the question, it’s more so out of habit or etiquette, but the older I get, I’m tired of the response, “I’m good.” It’s not true. Well, it’s not the honest truth. I might be good in that moment, but when I take a step back and look at the grand scheme of things, we’ve been through A LOT. We’ve been through so much that an “I’m good” rids me of the ability to be able to share our story, to share how God has continued to be good to us, even when I can’t seem to steer my way out of a paper bag.

As I think about this new opportunity we have on our horizon, it’s exciting yet daunting. Tomorrow we move into our new home! We finally get to put down some roots here in Houston and we are looking forward to what is in store here. I know the focus of our move here was to provide Easton with a better life and the opportunity to do and see more because we will be closer to his health care team. For Stephen and I, we want to use this opportunity to be more intentional with others. Forming relationships at this stage of life (with young babies, especially a medically needy one), it’s hard to not just want to settle for surface level, small talk friendships, but since life is life, I want to find people to do life with here, that are willing to dive into my problems, and vice versa.

This morning, as I was trying to be productive, the mom guilt ran high as we watched our umpteenth episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, but I felt the tug on my heart that I needed to sit down and write. I didn’t know what direction this blog was going to go in. Putting pen to paper (or this case just fingers to keyboard), always feels like a lifted load off my shoulders, helps ease the burdens of my heart and mind. Helps me to be honest with myself that yes, life lately has been wide load, but it’s alright to not be “good” all the time.