my third child...
My intent was to share with other women that they were not alone...
I wanted other people to know that miscarriage, still birth, and baby loss happens...
that it is real, and there are women who go through it... often twice, three times, or more...
I wanted my words to possibly help even one woman know that she was not the only one..
and that there are support groups...
and organizations...
and people who can help...
and who care...
I did not know at the time, however what was ahead of me in that year...
the year we first chose a family word...
FAITH...
David warned me. He told me that word was like setting ourselves up...
I knew... God would do what God would do and He would allow what He would allow...
This was our chance to step out and say we trusted Him, that we had FAITH. He agreed.
Well, as many of you now know, that word clearly defined our year that unfolded in front of us. Two thousand thirteen was a year full of challenges... and not small ones. Just before Mother's Day, we discovered we were pregnant again. We were thrilled and a bit nervous, but mostly excited. We kept it mostly to ourselves, telling only a handful of people. We found out at fifteen weeks we had lost another baby... Five days later, I was diagnosed at the age of twenty-eight, on our sixth wedding anniversary with a pulmonary embolism, a large clot in my lungs. Over the next four days in the hospital, I learned I had an inherited clotting disorder that was likely the source of ALL of this.
The following six months were all about getting better. I had my blood drawn so frequently, I made friends with two of the ladies who worked there, to the point where I would not go to any other lab... ever. I was constantly adjusting my medication to align with my INR levels from those blood draws. Meanwhile, I was still in a lot of pain most days, so I was on pain medication for it. When the time came for my scan and then my six month follow up, I was nervous but so excited. On my Daddy's birthday, I found out I was free of Coumadin and the pain was gone. I no longer needed the pain medication either and I had no side effects. I felt like I got a huge present on my Daddy's birthday. It felt freeing...
It was around this time I finally started to feel well enough to take better care of myself. Someone I knew from church posted about P90X3. I had already had some past success with P90X and I loved the idea that I only needed to work out thirty minutes a day with this one. A month in, I was hooked and a month after that, I was signed up as a Beachbody coach. I was on board, excited and I was changing my life. I was losing weight, building muscle I did not know I had and I was seeing a future. I was seeing a chance for life after multiple losses and a pulmonary embolism. I was living a life on aspirin but that was not going to define me. I was going to get healthier, fitter and be more in control of my own life, and I was going to take my family along for the ride... because if anyone deserved it, they did. David had seen me at my worst. He had not only stuck by me but he had supported me, encouraged me and seen to the kids needs whenever I could not. My kids never saw me different it seemed either. They loved on me and knew I was not whole somehow but they cared and wanted me anyway. My family needed this. So I was going to make these changes for them.
Something interesting happens when you immerse yourself in something... it changes you. It takes you to on an adventure that you cannot predict. You think you are in control but each of those decisions takes you somewhere else. Yes, I wanted to lose weight but I was learning that with that weight loss, I was getting stronger, and not just physically (which was pretty awesome on its own, let's be honest) but I was starting to think more for myself. I was not depending on David for as much. I was starting to do activities I enjoyed again. I was cooking, baking, running, swimming, writing more... I was making decisions firmly again; I was not waffling so much. I was building confidence back that I once had but it was different this time. It was ALL different this time...
It sure seemed that way. I was twenty-five lbs down, I was working out six days a week. I was eating better than I had ever before. I was working out at least an hour each day and I was setting goals and challenges and not letting injuries or other obstacles stop me. They were aiding me, teaching me more about myself and who I was, who I could be. I liked it. I was ready to crush more programs and goals and take on the world! Truthfully, I felt like my own version of Wonder Woman. I knew who I was and no matter what happened next, I was confident I could handle it; David and I could handle it. We were equipped, prepared and in control. Good news or bad news, the world was ours.
And then we found out we were pregnant... We had just celebrated our seventh wedding anniversary. We were less than a month out from Joy starting first grade. David had just received a promotion at work and our sweet kiddos seemed genuinely happy. No one had been sick in months. I tell you the honest truth, I froze...
Since the moment my hematologist cleared me of my pulmonary embolism, I was ecstatic, not just because I was healed... but because I wanted so badly to have my baby... my rainbow baby... the one that fulfilled the promise that we were able to still have kiddos, the one that meant my hematologist was right and we now not only had a reason for my losses and six additional months "out of commission" but for a solution to it as well. In theory, it all made sense and it seemed great....
Reality is cruel some days. For so long, you just pray and imagine and wonder what it will be like one day to have your greatest dream come true and when you are on the brink of it, all of your worst fears and insecurities come rushing right back. And during the first sixteen weeks of my pregnancy (twelve since I found out), that is where I was. My blood pressure was higher, my days were quieter. I was more withdrawn. I initially excitedly told people, only to be reminded each day that anything was possible and we were not safe yet. Additionally, I had morning sickness like never before, as well as fatigue day in and day out. Parts of me physically hurt so much that I could not figure out how to even walk for exercise... me... the person who had thrived on and lived on and ingrained in myself this idea that exercise was a part of me...
A part of me... Fitness had become a piece of the person I saw myself to be long term, the person I was developing and becoming as an adult... as a mature, healthy, well-rounded adult... It was THAT important to me that I crumbled repeatedly at the thought of not showing that side of me... over and over and over again. I wanted so much to prove to women that you could be fit and pregnant. I wanted to be that woman who looked like she could take on the world, even when I was thwarted by pregnancy annoyances. After all, I had seen other women do it, read their posts and seen photos of what they were eating during pregnancy, how they were continuing their fitness regimen and how great it made them feel... and how much better their labor was because of it. And then I realized... I was jealous. I was jealous of the women who did not feel pregnancy the way I did this time around or at least did not appear to feel it the way I did.
Sixteen weeks arrived, and thanks to a sweet friend and a special at our ultrasound place, we got to see our princess, kicking around... with a heartbeat... I think that is when I finally let my breath out for the first time in this entire pregnancy. The daily injections of Lovenox were working. My body worked. My baby looked as healthy as her older brother and sister did. She was even measuring ahead by a week already (thanks to her father's genes, haha), just as her older siblings did at that point as well. She was the cutest baby we had seen in a very long time. And when we picked up Joy from school that day, she shrieked and turned around and told one of her teachers she was going to have a sister. My heart lit up like letters on a Wheel of Fortune board.
Over the next few weeks, I found strength and some energy and started to walk again. I was still sick as a dog most days but I was seeing the hope I had not seen for months. Just that picture of my newest little girl kicking made me smile. And not more than a week after we saw that ultrasound, I felt those first kicks, right on schedule, just like her older brother and sister. My back still hurt as well but I kept trying to stay positive as people reminded me over and over that she was fine, growing, even thriving... The closer I got to the New Year, the more hopeful I got, the more ecstatic I got. I started thinking about running new challenge groups, one right out of the gate in the New Year. A group of ladies committed to check in and get a health tip and talk about what it meant and apply it as able. It was simple and for 21 days, that is exactly what many did. It helped remind me of something I had forgotten...
We have seasons in life. Some of them are longer or shorter. Some are ridiculously fun. Some are more challenging. Some pass by without being noticed. Some contain combinations of challenges, fantastic news, and moments that pass us by. But the point is, seasons exist. And each season ultimately comes to an end, transitioning into another. I have often noticed they overlap as well in certain areas. Anytime when I am in one of my harder seasons, I remind myself that it will not last forever, no matter how long it may seem at the time. This is what we went through during our Year of Faith. And when the following year hit, our promise was to be content, no matter what. Considering that year had no huge hurdles, I think there were times we questioned if we were more faithful than content... And yet, she was conceived during this year, found to be a girl during this year, one growing and thriving inside of me like I had only dreamed...
I often think of two-thousand-fourteen as our transition year. We had it rough for a year, worked out some kinks and frustrations the following year and then we needed to make some serious decisions during two-thousand-fifteen. We wanted to leave the excuses behind us. No one would make us feel inferior. No one would determine whether or not we were happy or content ;-) No one else had the power over us. Only God was in control. We would be setting goals and making plans (to the best of our abilities). We would be embracing this year like no other. We would LIVE. I always make sure to emphasize (I hope) that this word is a verb, an action. It is NOT passive by any means. We would trust God. We would do what we could within His will. This included David's job, my working, our children, our living situation... absolutely everything...
So it may or may not surprise you to find out that one of those aspects of my life that I have struggled most with in recent weeks is confidence... I lack it. As I work on my business, I question myself constantly. I wonder if I am pressuring myself to the point of failure. I constantly question whether I am a good enough mother or not. My son did not get a good lunch. My daughter did not get much time with mommy today. Homework did not get finished. The house is still a complete mess, possibly worse when David walks in the door at night. There is a tantrum and not only do I not know how to stop it, I do not know what is causing it. I tell my kids to wait. One of them breaks something. I worry if I am eating enough. Will my baby be okay? It is a constant battle these days.
So in light of this constant struggle as of late, I decided to try an experiment... nothing fancy but with my thirtieth birthday approaching in the next few months, I decided to ask around thirty friends for a word that describes me, no other instructions included. Now some simply declined and some gave me multiple ones. Some gave me words that really made me think. Others repeated a word another had given me, some of which I did not expect to see even once. Now where am I going with this? It is about perspective. The people who know you best, the people who care about you... they do not see your flaws like you do. Now, they may be the ones to approach you if something really is off because they care but they do not sit there and complain about you constantly and anything that may be "wrong" with you. So, why do I? How is it even possible for me to LIVE when I am so focused on all of these negative aspects I see in myself, a human trying to do my best? It really is not possible to LIVE fully. So I decided to delve in and see how I was actually perceived...
Some of the words I have struggled with the most are strong, beautiful, and brave...
Why? Because I have fought against a perception that I feel weak most of my life, because I am a woman who does not often see the beauty in who she truly is unless I am feeling good, and because when life fell down around my family and I, I did what I thought I needed to do, never once seeing it as anything other than that.
A word that surprised me... enduring...
This goes along with the words, strong and brave, I struggle with it a little but like the perspective. I truly believe without God, we would be finished and I would be forever depressed in a hole. I do not believer I could endure life without His continual promises.
Some words that encourage me... compassionate, supportive, genuine...
I love to hear these kinds of words! I need to remember them! These are things I strive for on a regular basis so it is nice to see that I am emanating them to others.
"Sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together." ~ Marilyn Monroe
I came across this quote and could not help but see it as incredibly meaningful for where I am now. It has been more than two years since we said goodbye to our first angel and there are days I still cry and mourn his loss. There are days where I still question God. And as far as we have come in our journey as a family, it still makes us sad. I have always found a way to explain to others that it has to be a part of something so much bigger but I have only been able to point to my best guess as to what that is. Perhaps, it was not just so I could share with you my journey and to help others but to help us see how important health is... and life. Without the passing of our dear Squirt, I would have never started this blog. I might not have seen the depth of how God can work in one person ,one couple, one family... as He has in ours. Upon losing Little One and being diagnosed with a pulmonary embolism and Factor V Leiden all within about a week during the summer of two-thousand-thirteen, I became more open to the fact that perhaps God has bigger plans for us as a family and I needed to make some changes.
As previously mentioned, I have struggled with my own self confidence and opinion of myself at times... often actually. I have been hyper-aware of how I believed I was perceived and always felt like I needed to fight against this idea that I was weak, frail, miniscule, unimportant... I have never wanted to upset people, ruffle feathers, branch out too far. If it was comfortable or a little outside of my comfort zone, I could be happy... but I never pushed much. I never wanted to offend people by accident. I did not want to open up my insecurities that far. I was scared. I am scared. So maybe it is about learning that its okay to pray big dreams, work hard to achieve them and try hard enough to reach people that they just might be offended, but do it in a way that still shows my care and love for them. I do not have to be timid in sharing any part of my journey or any part of my future or any part of how it has changed my life or my family's for the better. This is who I am and this is who I want to be. I want to break free and share...
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In about seven to nine weeks, we will be welcoming a new baby girl into our family. We will be in yet another new phase of our family and our lives and in a lot of ways, we will have come full circle from that day in January when we received the worst news of our lives to date, that we had lost our baby, Squirt. It by no means erases our memories or thoughts of our babies gone too soon or my health going into limbo for so long. It does not negate our views on family or life. If anything, it just enhances them and makes them that much more clear. I have learned SO much about who I am as a wife, a mother, a baby loss mother, a Beachbody coach, a friend, a daughter, a sister and a woman in Christ... Through all of our struggles, God has remained FAITHFUL and I plan to return the favor. I plan to LIVE this year, no excuses... I will be INTENTIONAL and GENUINE even when it hurts, even when others do not like it. I will push harder and work more carefully to achieve my goals and set up a future for my family that I am proud of... and I will never, ever forget how God blessed me with the absolute best friend and husband in the world, my David!
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That is all for now...
As always,
Melis
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Copyright Photos @Sara Story Photography
sarastory2008@gmail.com, (831) 588-7345
