The Tummy

I faced "female problems" from my early teen years. Thirty years later, this picture was taken last week, a few days before my final hysterectomy, which will hopefully lay the consequences of a diseased reproductive system to rest once and for all!

You see, this was actually my second hysterectomy, going back to take my cervix, remaining ovary, and once again (as has been surgically required so many times over the past 20 years) clean out the mess and pain created by Endometriosis. I am 43 years old and dramatically entered menopause in full force last week.

There had been absolutely NO CHANCE of that belly hosting the life of a baby for nearly seven years since I had surgically said farewell to the body of my uterus and first ovary, yet to look at me, all bloated and inflamed, it would have been a common presumption to think I was well-along into pregnancy!

This got me thinking and reflection on our decade of active infertility. My tummy HAS looked like this before, sometimes, at least six in fact, from the hard-fought blessing of carrying a child within! For all those stretch marks, I am rewarded far beyond anything I had ever dared hope during our infertility years, with three living children in my home today, ages 15, 12 and 9. I do not take them for granted. I so wish I could have worn a t-shirt (or neon sign on my forehead) that read something like, "Don't hate me infertile friend. This baby has been 7 years in the making!" Just because I was finally pregnant, the feelings of infertility were not magically erased! I readily still related much more with the infertile word than the fertile one!

Our living miracles' known siblings who never got to come home would be 20, a likely twin of the 15-year-old, 14, and 13. I am ever so blessed that my womb was their entire earthly home, yet they are still missed! Pregnant tummy mis-speaking about the state of my fertility once again, in each of their cases.

More strangely, my tummy has looked like this before because of the very reality of not being able to conceive! Illness and swelling such as I just pictured , from Endometriosis or other reproductive illness, but also sometimes from PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome), in response to fertility drugs, fibroid tumors, and/or due ovarian hyper-stimulation! What insult, added to injury, to "look pregnant" simply because of whatever condition(s) is causing sub fertility in the first place!

So next time you see a "pregnant" woman, don't presume! Maybe she is. Maybe she isn't. Either way, there may be much more to her story than meets the eye. And to the lady I naively asked how far along you were, 20-some years ago, before I knew better, I'm still so very sorry for the tears I brought to your eyes that day. Please forgive me!

When I Die

Today's  #NHBPM topic suggestion is “Write about what you want to happen to your blog/ community when you die."

Honestly, I realized how very little I care last year. My husband, my children (living or dead), my writing, my books, my blogs, Hannah's Prayer, none of it even remotely even crossed my mind or mattered anymore, in the moment where I actually came face to face with Eternity.

Later, my concern was for my husband, for my children, but I still don't remember much thought of any of the rest, from the hospital. From a more "grounded" perspective (as in, what mattered to me before and what matters now, from an earthly perspective), I'll try to answer this question from the light of believing how very much people matter and the resources I hope to leave available to others.

So what do I want to happen to your blog/ community when I die? I actually have no concern for the ongoing, long-term perpetuation of Hannah's Prayer. This ministry has far outgrown my narrow vision, long ago. God has raised up generations of faithful leadership there and I believe it may well continue well past my lifetime. I don't even have to be involved any more (I choose to because I am so very blessed by the ladies there) for one lady to reach out to the next and the cycle of blessing to keep unfolding.

I would like to think that as long as the information in it remains medically relevant (I intentionally addressed much more of the emotional and spiritual issues of infertility/loss, than the medical, in hopes of creating a more timeless resource) and/or HP continues to exist, that Hannah's Hope will remain in print. I well-remember what it was like to look for such resources and not be able to find them. I would like to think that such encouragement remains accessible for decades to come, though I know the book has already outlived the generally expected shelf-life of such a title.

Since I am currently in the process of writing 3 more books (I hope to start querying publishers for the first in December or January, though it took about 15 months for HH) I would also hope that each of these new projects have a long publication life as well. Each of their related blogs is listed below.

As for this very blog, I don't know there is much of long-term consequence here, other than one post of eternal significance that I would hope might be read at my funeral.

It is very strange writing about my own death, not having any idea if we are talking near future or many decades still away. It is kind of like a pregnancy due date, I have a general idea of what the normal expectation for my span may be, presuming all continues as anticipated, but I also know thing can happen prematurely or unexpectedly. If God wills to prolong my earthly days, I may well change perspective on some of these ideas, yet again. But no matter what happens, or when it happens, I want my loved one to rejoice with me that the only really important wish of mine has finally been fulfilled once I get to go Home. :)

Today I am thankful that this lifetime is so very insignificant in the span of Eternity!

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First Published Book: Hannah's Hope : Seeking God's Heart in the Midst of Infertility, Miscarriage, and Adoption Loss

Book-in-progress on drawing on the fruit of the Spirit in times of trial: Harvesting Hope from Heartache

Next book-in-progress: 6 strokes at age 39, Stroke of Grace

Future manuscript in the plans: Given Me a Thorn, the apostle Paul's story as applicable to living with chronic illness

 
 

Mom Will Miss You

To put today's post in context, you probably should read the first few paragraphs of this post first.

Unless anyone has a living child, after loss, this might sound rather morbid, but it was humorous (especially after the fact, when I was relaying the story to my husband a couple of hours later) to me. Saturday, when I was having an emotional meltdown, one of the reasons I was crying was because it should have been about Noel's 17th birthday, had she actually been born near her due date. Actually I was crying more for me, thinking, "She got to go to Heaven and I didn't."

Our 6-year-old came up to me right as I was trying to stop crying and asked me what was wrong. I told him that it should have been his big sister's 17th birthday and I was missing her. Then our 9=year-old came up and asked what was wrong, so I told her the same thing. Because of the combined impact of the strokes and my tears, she couldn't understand my answer and asked her little brother to explain.

His explanation was, "Mom's going to miss you when you have your 17th birthday." I started giggling right through the tears. "Wrong big sister, Sweetheart."


Hard to believe we "would have" one starting her senior year of high school or first year of college this year! You are still loved and missed, Noel. I am so glad it wasn't our living daughter I was crying over this week, as I couldn't imagine living without any of the children we are so blessed to have in our lives today! But one child never "replaces" another and I still do miss Noel, Joel and Hannah too!

Weeks 5-8

Don't you love my consistent, weekly blogging technique? ;) May I make up for my lack of writing by sharing my my rose garden with you?

Since my last update, we have finished school weeks 5-8 of My Father's World in our 1850 to Modern Times year (year 5 of the 5 year cycle for those of you who are familiar with the program). We've covered states and capitals (they have the states down cold, but we still have a few capitals to get straight), Abraham Lincoln (Did you know Thanksgiving was established to thank God for Civil War victories?), the Civil War, and lots of great science activities.

Big J. and I read "Across Five Aprils" last month and now all of us are reading our way through the entire Little House on the Prairie (Laura Ingalls Wilder) series. We finished "On the Banks of Plumb Creek" last night and the kids are itching to start "By the Shores of Silver Lake" today. I don't want to get too far ahead in history with our reading as I love the way MFW paces reading suggestions to tie right into the history lessons, but I also never want to discourage my children from loving books, so we are reading pretty far ahead (and including a lot of extras as only two of the Little House books are directly scheduled into the year). This week we are talking about other world events that were happening at the same time as the U.S. Civil War.

J. Bear, or "Dimple Man" as I recently told him I should start calling him on the blog, is working hard on finishing Kindergarten so he's ready for 1st after Christmas, but he's already tagging along with his older brother and sister in much of what they do as well.

Princess R. (3rd grade) is making huge strides in reading! A few weeks back she struggled when letters were "too small" because reading was such hard work. Yesterday she brought me her Bible (small print!) and surprised me with, "Mom, I was reading this Proverb today and wanted to share it with you..." Then she flawlessly read me the entire verse and struck up a conversation about it. :) We are doing some math review with the Princess to really make sure her foundations there are strong before moving forward again, and Dimple Man (K) is trying to keep up with her review, even though it's first/second grade level. The sibling competitive spirit is an interesting dynamic to watch unfold as they each challenge one another to do their best.

I am greatly looking forward to having all three of them together on the same core program (obviously with age appropriate adjustments for each child) doing Exploring Countries and Cultures next year before Big J. (now in 7th) heads on into high school the year after next. Time is marching forward so quickly!

A couple of weeks ago the boys had a special day out with their Dad at the local water park while Princess R. and I enjoyed a Mommy and Daughter day. We baked cupcakes, did craft projects, and had a dolly tea party.

I actually forgot all about my planned culmination of the day, giving R. her Laylie Colbert A Life of Faith doll (I was able to pick her up on close-out pricing a few years ago, before the company retired the doll line), a wonderful companion for her as she starts "Meet Addy" in an America Girl glass at homeschool co-op this Thursday. I don't think R. minded too much that I forgot that day because she was a totally out-of-the-blue surprise yesterday. R. said, "Mommy, it feels so strange to get an amazing gift like this in the middle of the year!" :)

In addition the the doll class, R. will be taking an acting class (also based on American Girl history stories) and ballet. Big J. is taking a cooking around the world class, watercolor, and a class my Dad, Ralph Camp, is teaching on Biblical Hermeneutics (the art and science of interpreting literature). J. Bear will be taking self-defense, a world cultures class, and a preschool class that while possibly a bit too "easy" was the best choice for his attention span given the other possible selections offered that hour. I think my silly boy will need some time for snacks, play and run-around between his two more attention-demanding classes, don't you? (This picture captures his personality perfectly.)

And one more time, I have to share my beautiful roses. This garden is a gift from my husband, and planted in dedication of all our children, both these three living miracles and all their siblings in Heaven. Our oldest, Noel Alexis, was due just to be born 16 years ago, earlier this month.

Choosing Joy

17 years ago last month, my husband and I, just three months into a new marriage, set out on the intentional path of striving to expand our family. Our oldest living son turned ten this week, so obviously that dream was slow to be realized!

Through those first seven years we had just two positive pregnancy tests. One resulted in our oldest's birth. The other led to the miscarriage of our sweet Noel Alexis. It was 15 years ago tomorrow morning that the bleeding and pain began. Tears for a few hours, followed by five months of numbness.

In hindsight I now see that my total lack of ability to process any form of emotion after Noel's death was more than just "denial" or "normal grief," but rather grief compounded by post-partum depression. (A journey I would again face on a much grander scale after the birth of our second living child, our daughter who will be seven next month.) It took me nearly half a year to allow myself to say the words, "I was pregnant," or "I had a miscarriage."

When I finally did choke the words out, the flood of sobbing, body-wracking tears last for hours! The emotions that had been pent up for months, not allowing a smile, a laugh, a tear, stayed close to the surface for the next few years, never giving me a moment's notice of when they might spring forth. I had irriational thoughts, like wanting to walk up to total strangers and simply announce, "My baby died." Infertiltiy is brutal. Miscarriage is torture. To miscarry our only known child in the midst of a many-year battle through infertility threatened to drive me to insanity with the intensity of my grief.

While on the one hand Noel's death intensified the infertility experience to a more painful level than I could ever have imagined, on the other hand she brought a strange measure of healing as well. I found joy in knowing that after more than two years striving for motherhood, that I was now, and forever more would be, somebody's Mom! Once I could admit to myself that Noel's brief life had not been a dream, simply a "late period" as I tried desperately to convice myself, I found some measure of hope and comfort in the fact that she had actually touched my womb, even if all-too-briefly.

Naming Noel was a very helpful step for me. Rick and I, not knowing if I had carried our son or daughter, but both "feeling" she was a girl, prayed long and hard over the right choice of a name. We chose "unisex" manes with meanings that touched our hearts, spelling Noel with the male spelling but pronouncing it with the femine pronouncation. We figured if "she" actually was a son, then he would forgive us in Heaven, but giving "her" an identity that I could relate to was so very important to me. Her name means "Christmas Minister of Needs" for she came and went over the Christmas season and ministered deeply to the hearting heart of this infertile want-to-be mother. I read of how "Mary treasured all these things in her heart" and my heart treasured the knowledge of the daughter I would some day see face to face in Heaven.

I hated when well-intended friends would try to comfort me with, "Well, at least now you know you can get pregnant." From anyone else, those words seemed to invalidate my child's precious, unique life and the profound loss to have her missing from ours. But when not minimized by other's "at least" statements, to be honest with myself it also was a relief to realize that we were truly "only infertile" and not utterly sterile, that there was hope of future conception.

But it also terrified me that if it had taken two years to conceive in the first place, even with medical aid, that it might be a very long road to a second child. And now that I had a "history of miscarriage" my innocence was shattered. Getting pregnant was just the first step, but the expectation of a living, bring-home-baby at the end could no longer be taken for granted in my heart and mind.

If you have stuck with me through all this rambling, you are probably wondering what does any of this have to do with "choosing joy"? With the dawn of 2009 God impressed upon my heart that my "theme word" for this year was to be Joy. He's confirmed it over and over, and while my husband may wonder where that joy has been (because he's seen me in some pretty black places with my health this year - 10 weeks in a foot cast, followed almost immediately by 5 months of IVs - physically exhaused, grumpy and especially wrestling to process all the emotional anguish of news about this retrovirus), I have to say that God's joy has been more tangilbe to me this year than in any I can remember since we started the infertility journey 17 years ago. I may not always be "happy" but God's joy, bouied by hope, and sustained by peace that passes understanding, has been tangible in ways I cannot put into words.

Here, in this week where we mark the birth of Christ, the death of our first daughter, the birth of our first living son and the due date of the child who would have been turning 8 but is also awaiting us in Heaven with two siblings, God gave me a beautiful reminder of all He has taught me this year:
The Christmas stocking I've had since childhood had too many holes for my husband to use to put some goodies in on Christmas Eve. So we pulled out a couple of "extra" stockings we had picked up one year when we were out of town for Christmas and had forgotten our regular stockings at home. One bears the script "Noel" while the other says "Joy." In past years, without hesitation, I would have instantly grabbed "Noel," thinking much more of the daughter who was not there to share in our celebration than of the Christ-child who's birth I should have been focusing on. This year, with only the slightest moment's indecision, I eagerly reached for "Joy" instead.

Birthday Reflections

Dec. 21 already. Amazing! I'm reflecting on "birth" right now - the birth of the Son of God (that came at the cost of a Father's greatest grief), the birth of our first living miracle (10 years ago this morning I was just starting labor), and the births we never got to enjoy, our little ones awaiting us in Heaven.

Joel Samuel, who shared a due date (2 years later) with his big brother and would now be turning 8, has been especially on my heart these past couple of days. His name means "The Lord will repay the years the locusts have eaten," and we named our son in faith that after so much heartache (deep financial struggles, multiple failed adoptions, miscarriages...) God surely had something more in store for us than years of tears and loss that had marked our first decade of marriage.

We had no idea what form that "something more" would be, perhaps emotional, spiritual or even physical tangible blessings, but we clung to the hope that His "more" would be perfect in His right timing and that He would not leave us adrift in the despairing grief that threatened to sink us. My heart is full with all I want to write on the kindness and grace God has washed over us in the eight years since Joel left my womb for Heaven, including two more living miracle babies! Yes, there have been hard times too, like my recent diagnosis of a retrovius (XMRV is one of only 3 known human retroviruses, the most well-known being HIV), but God has been so gracious through it all.

It seemed for so long we were the ones grieving, in need of tangible financial or other help. This Christmas, when so many are struggling, we live in a warm home with bountiful food, God's blessings overflowing. My eyes tear as we hand warms socks and an energy bar to the man with the cardboard sign on the corner, as my husband quietly walks forward to pay for lunch for the man who digs through his pocket and turns to walk out of the fast food joint because he doesn't have the change to cover a value meal, as we place a few small gifts of love in a friend's arms to put under the empty tree in her tiny apartment. We do it for Jesus. We do it for Joel.

[Edited Dec. 26 to say, after dedicating this entire post to Joel, I realized belatedly that it was actually Hannah Rose who shared a due date with our oldest J. She is the one that would have been turning 8. Joel would have been due in September, as we had two back-to-back miscarriages.
There, Mommy-guilt for having mistaken dates surrounding the lives and deaths of my children, now somewhat relieved by this admission. As this is a mistake I still can't believe I would ever make "in my right mind," and especially one I'm still shocked that it took me nearly a week to even realize I had made, I'm chalking this one up to CFS/XMRV "brain fog". :( ]

Yesterday we enjoyed the blessing of a long, leasurly lunch with Rick's parents to celebrate Big. J's addition to our family 10 years ago - such a wonderful change of pace after 19 weeks of spending my Sunday afternoons hooked up to IVs! (On top of that, my hives are even starting to clear up. What a blessing!) We'll celebrate him again tomorrow (his actual birthday) with my side of the family.

My brother, sister(in-law) and nephews got in from Washington yesterday evening and spent the night with my parents. We will be seeing them in a couple of hours and spending the next 10 days together, so you might not hear from me much until the end of the year. As a "Christmas gift" I wanted to point you to a current blog give-away for Joy Dekok's wonderful book, Rain Dance. It takes on some heavy topics (infertility, post-abortion syndrome, grief - topics that scared me away from the book for far too long) but is an amazing read and will touch your heart. Enter to win your own copy at http://www.crazy-for-books.com/2009/12/blog-tour-review-giveaway-rain-dance-by.html

Such a Vivid Dream

I hadn't even been thinking of her much lately, certainly not focusing on dates. It snuck up on me quite by surprise this year, Noel's due date, Sept. 2. It was "Labor Day" that year that she was due, the day I was to have been "in labor". Since all my babies have come early, she probably whould have been an August baby instead...

I guess a mother's heart just can't forget, try as I might. For last night in my dreams I held a very vidid conversation with a friend all about Noel and how she was "about to turn 14". I didn't even realize until late in the day that TODAY was Sept. 2 nor connect that the dream was about this very date.

I know I'm rambling, but I can't go to sleep without at least saying, "Happy birthday, my sweet child. You were the first to touch my womb and Mommy will always hold a special place in my heart for you. I miss you even still and look forward to finally wrapping my arms around you and getting to know you some day in Heaven."

What would it be like to have a teenage daughter, a young woman on the verge of becoming an adult, in our home today? This wasn't God's perfect plan and I honestly can't imagine such a different reality than the one we live right now. But every now and then I can picture her and wonder about what could have been. Needing to focus once again on God's beautiful plan for our family just as He chose to build it rather than getting caught up in daydreams (or night dreams) about what can never be.