Three and One

Since 2013 is winding down, I thought it would be a good time to post an update about my girls. My, how they're growing, as little ones tend to do! We've been busy at our house with birthday season this Fall. Lily turned three in September, my hubby's birthday is in October, and Anna turned one in November - on Thanksgiving Day this year. It has been a crazy, fun, and special time!

It's hard to believe that Lily is three. She's truly a joy, this special girl. She's just the right mixture of silly and sweet, girlie and dainty but not at all a diva, clever and smart. She absolutely loves Peter Pan (the old Disney cartoon), so that's what we did for her party theme. In fact, it also provided the theme for our whole family's Halloween costumes this year (more on that later).

Here are a few pictures from her Neverland-themed party in September:

Next came October, and we continued the Peter Pan theme with our costumes. Lily wanted to be Captain Hook (love her imagination!), so we dressed Anna up as Smee. Their daddy was Peter Pan, and I was Wendy. We had a blast!

November was a special month, as it was Anna's first Thanksgiving and her first birthday, all on the same day. Anna is a little Mommy's girl (quite a change from her big sis). She loves music, loves to dance, and loves to eat. She adds so much joy to our family!

We chose a theme of butterflies and pinwheels for her big day. Here are a few photos from her party:

It has been a fun year of firsts for Anna. She is quite a bundle of energy! Having two little ones close together is fun, but it's also more challenging than I ever imagined. Of course, we're still joyful every day for the opportunity to be parents to these two precious gifts.

To wrap up, here's a collage of all of Anna's month-by-month pictures to show how much she has grown and changed:

What a year it has been! I hope this time of year finds you counting your blessings as well, as you celebrate the holiday season with family and friends.

Aaron Joseph

This is the sixth and final post in the series I've been writing about the babies we miscarried. The time felt right to give them all names and to revisit the experience one by one, as a way of remembering and as a memorial. I appreciate the opportunity to use this blog as a step in the healing process, and I'm grateful to those who have faithfully read along, commented, encouraged, and prayed. These precious ones will always be part of our lives. I'm honored to call them by name.
Emily Grace, Callie Elizabeth, Luke Daniel, Adam Louis, Agnes Faith, and Aaron Joseph
***

Just four months after we lost our fifth baby, I discovered I was pregnant for the sixth time on December 11, 2006. It was really soon but we felt like we surely must be close. We'd had dozens of tests run, discovered a uterine septum and had surgery to correct it, and were planning to try the progesterone supplements and blood thinners again. Since our specialist was an hour's drive away, we were working with my local OB/GYN for lab work and treatment in the early stages of the pregnancy.

Pregnancy number six would be another roller coaster ride. We spent a long time with things up in the air, not knowing whether it was going to work out or not. It was hard and it was emotionally exhausting. And it was all happening right around the holidays, which seemed to make it harder.

Early signs showed that the pregnancy was going well. The first HCG results were higher than my previous pregnancy, and the progesterone was high. I started the nightly Lovenox injections in my stomach right away. A week later, on December 18, the HCG was rising as it should be. We scheduled an ultrasound at a local imaging center on December 21 but were only able to see a gestational sac. It was a start, but we had to leave that day knowing we would spend the Christmas holiday with the big question hanging over our heads. Oh, how we'd been hoping to spend Christmas with the knowledge that our baby was okay and growing.

We decided to go ahead with our travel plans. Spending that time surrounded by our family seemed like a much better idea than staying home alone and worrying. We packed up a basket full of injections, put the progesterone suppositories on ice, and headed for Louisiana and the comfort of home and family. As soon as we got back home and the office was open, I called to schedule more blood work on January 2, 2007. HCG came back: 95,000! After a week and a half of waiting, it was wonderful news! We planned for an ultrasound and the doctor told us that we should be able to get a look at our baby with numbers that high. We knew better than to let ourselves start celebrating but we felt sure that we would at least have an answer, one way or the other.

The ultrasound on January 4 didn't go as we hoped. There was a yolk sac this time but still no growing baby. We knew it wasn't good but we continued to hope and pray for our miracle. Later that evening I had a little bit of bleeding. My heart dropped into my stomach as I thought it was the end. To my surprise, though, the bleeding tapered off and then quit. I had another lab appointment on January 9 to be sure the numbers were still rising. They were. It was ultrasound time again. It had now been a month of injections, desperate prayers, and worry. And hope. Always hope.

We returned to the imaging center on January 15. At ten weeks along we knew we should be seeing our baby. As soon as the image of the yolk sac was visible on the screen, we could see that there was still no growth. No flickering heartbeat. Just an empty sac. This pregnancy had been a blighted ovum, which is when a fertilized egg implants but doesn't develop into an embryo. Conception occurs and your body prepares for pregnancy, but the yolk sac remains empty and the baby does not grow.

 I had a D&C on January 22, 2007. It was three days before my 30th birthday. There was no party, no big celebration. My sweet husband had arranged for many of my friends and family to send special cards and letters, which he gave to me in a big bag on my birthday. My mom came and made my favorite cake: chocolate with chocolate icing. We spent a quiet day at home as I recovered.

In a way, after six times, I'd gotten used to dealing with the tough news and even the surgery and recovery. But you never ever get used to the pain and devastation of loss. Each and every time brought such overwhelming sadness and disappointment. And guilt. You name it. There were so many emotions and unanswered questions. We had to accept that we would probably never have those answers this side of heaven. Our specialist told us with regret that even she didn't know what else she could do to help us. We knew we'd reached the end of the road with her. The call came from the OB/GYN who told us she didn't think we'd ever have a baby. I felt like I'd hit rock bottom.

There's a familiar expression that I think applies here: "Don't put a period where God has put a comma." That's how I felt. I wanted a second opinion. And honestly, if another doctor looked at me and said no, and if we felt God leading us to stop, then we knew we'd need to find the strength to put it all to rest. But I just couldn't let go until I knew for sure. One thing was certain that even I in my weakest times never doubted, though. We were going to be parents. We just didn't know yet if our family would grow through a successful pregnancy or through the gift of adoption.

The weeks and months (and eventually, years) that followed were hard. We found a new doctor in the big city and had our first visit with him on July 16, 2007. For the first time we truly felt that we'd found a doctor who had the knowledge and experience to help us. The best part was that even after all he knew about our history, he didn't think we were a hopeless case. After six pregnancies and six miscarriages in six years, we had hope again. And it would keep us going as we faced something we didn't expect -- three years of infertility. But that's a story for another day.


I love the name we've chosen for our sixth baby. Aaron is a boy name that we've both loved for years. Joseph is my father-in-law's middle name, and was also my maternal grandfather's middle name. While getting ready to write this post I looked up the meanings of these two names we'd already picked, and what I read confirmed that they were right. It's one of those things that forms a lump in my throat and brings tears to my eyes.

Aaron means "mountain of strength."
Joseph means "God shall add."

This pregnancy holds a lot of meaning for me. Looking back at it now I can see that it was in some ways both the end and the beginning. Of course I didn't know it at the time, but praise the Lord, it was our last miscarriage. It was the end of a very long and painful chapter in our lives. But it was the start of a new decade of my life -- my thirties -- and while one chapter (well, it felt like an entire book) was closed, another was opened. I can look back on it years later and remember the sorrow I felt while at the same time appreciating that the old was gone and we were right on the edge of a new, fresh start. There were two beautiful miracles right around the corner. God shall add. And He had been my mountain of strength.

Aaron Joseph,
We had so much hope for you, precious boy, but we know that you are safe with Jesus right along with your brothers and sisters. Thank you for keeping hope alive within us and for showing us that the Lord would be our mountain of strength. We love you and miss you so, so much.
Love, Mommy

Happy New Year (almost a month late)!

Hello friends! Thanks for the sweet comments about the birth of our second little miracle. Anna is doing great and will (already!) be two months old on Monday. She is a very sweet baby and is a joy to have in our family. We are thrilled that she is here, and that we have two beautiful daughters after such a long season of waiting.

Anna has a sweet personality, loves to be held and talked to, and loves to eat! She's a little butterball and is much chunkier than Lily was at this age. Fortunately Anna and I got off to a great start with breastfeeding and it is still going smoothly. Lily is adjusting well and enjoys being a big sister. She pretty much does her own thing most of the time, but she likes to help and occasionally asks to hold Anna or just stops by to hold her hand or give her a kiss. Having two girls is super sweet! I look forward to watching them grow together and form a special bond as sisters over the years.

Adjusting to two children 26 months apart has been a challenge for me as a stay-at-home mom. I LOVE being at home with my girls; it's just been a matter of trying to find (and being flexible with) an ever-changing new routine. Things are settling down now that we are two months in, though, and Anna has a pretty decent sleeping pattern. We have moved out of the zombie parent stage and are now just your average tired parents. :) Both girls are actually napping right now and my hubby is running errands. It still comes as a nice surprise when I have a bit of "free" time. I'm happy to be able to dust off the laptop and update the old blog this afternoon!

We had a busy but joyful holiday season and were fortunate to have our families come to us this time since we weren't keen on traveling with a newborn. Anna got to meet all of her immediate aunts, uncles, and cousins even though she hasn't made her first trip home to Louisiana just yet.

You might remember that I was diagnosed with melanoma last spring, right after we found out we were expecting Anna, and that I had surgery on my right arm last June. Just as an update, I had my 6-month checkup in December, which included a chest x-ray -- common after a melanoma diagnosis since it can spread to the lungs. My x-ray showed some spots on the right lung, so I had a follow-up CT scan earlier this month to check those out. Yesterday I heard that the spots are benign (thankfully!), but that they want to do an ultrasound of a suspicious-looking lymph node under my right arm. (Hopefully it's just due to the fact that I'm breastfeeding, but they are very thorough at this hospital and I'm glad!) I'll be scheduling that pretty soon. It's all still pretty standard and routine, but I continue to deal with this melanoma almost a full year later and am hoping to soon get the all-clear. I often remind people -- YOU! -- to keep a close eye on anything unusual on your skin and see your dermatologist for regular checkups. It's always better to catch these things early, and I'm so fortunate that it happened that way for me!

January always brings feelings of starting over, and I'm feeling that in many ways as we start 2013. We're settling into a new home with a new baby this January. And yesterday was my birthday, so I'm starting off a new year in that regard as well. Thirty-six years old, and life is looking so much different from how it looked just a few short years ago. We're sometimes stressed, oftentimes overwhelmed, but always, always THANKFUL and deeply JOYFUL for the gifts we've been given.

I wish you all a happy and healthy new year, and continue to pray specifically for those who are continuing along on the infertility journey. Please drop me a line, send an email, or leave a comment and let me know what's new with all of you!

Here are some family pics we had taken in early December to use for our Christmas cards. Hope you had a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year -- even though it's almost February! :)

2012

Here we are, one week into another new year.

Before we had Lily, New Year's was always one of the most difficult times for me. Sure, I guess that somewhere deep down there was just a smidge of hope that it might be our year to have a baby. But honestly, as the years passed, that hope for me had begun to shrivel and shrink until it was almost completely unrecognizable. It had become a challenge to face another year that may contain yet another miscarriage and even more heartache and longing.

As this new year approached, about two weeks before Christmas I found myself in a familiar place -- my bathroom, waiting for the results of a home pregnancy test. (It was negative.) It wasn't the kind of situation where we'd been planning and trying and scheduling doctor visits, and now today was the day to test. Instead, it was more of a wait-a-minute-I'm-several-days-late kind of situation, one where I thought that maybe, just maybe, there could be a baby there without all the stress and worry and agony over what might happen if we tried again, and without all of the dates and schedules and medicines. I thought there could be a slim chance, so I did something I hadn't done in almost two years. In fact, I hadn't done it since January 20, 2010 -- the day we found out I was pregnant for the seventh time and the pregnancy that gave us our take-home baby.

So, I woke up that morning and opened a fresh box of pregnancy tests and waited to see if my world was about to change in one way or another. It didn't.

And I was disappointed. But instead of letting it overwhelm me, I scooped up my toddler and went to the kitchen to feed her some breakfast and tried to carry on with our daily routine. During the next week I waited for that confirmation to come but it didn't, so I took another test a week later just to be sure. Still negative. Just two days before the new year -- a new cycle. A fresh start, so to speak.

And so 2012 began for me in a way that was familiar but not necessarily welcomed. It would have been a wonderful, amazing surprise, but I'm not despairing. As for trying again, we're trying not to stress about it. For right now, it would be wonderful if it happened, but we're not letting it consume our thoughts. We're just living in a place where we want to be content with where we are, with our family of three, but we're still allowing ourselves to dream that the Lord may give us another child.

We're hoping. We're trusting. And we're following His plan for our family in 2012.

The Old and The New

It's nearly 11 PM, three nights before Christmas. Lily is nestled all snug in her bed (and so is my husband, in ours) and our bags are packed and ready for us to leave early in the morning for a week of traveling to see family in Louisiana.

I'm quite used to being the last one awake in the house. I've always been a night owl. Tonight I'm thankful for a couple of hours of quiet before we begin a fun but busy Christmas week. It's allowing me a little bit of time to reflect on some things about the year and about Christmases past.

There are so many things that are different in our family now, things that have changed quite a bit in the past couple of years. The obvious one, of course, is that we have a child. We have a daughter sleeping down the hall, which, when I truly think about it, still amazes me. Before last year we'd had eleven Christmases together as a married couple without children, and now we're approaching our second one as parents. Last year's Christmas felt so foreign as we were adjusting to life with a three-month-old. It was beautiful and very special too, but it's nice this year to be able to feel so much more settled. And this year we are back to our old driving route, making a big circle (or more of an oval, I guess) from SE Texas up to N Louisiana, back down to SW Louisiana, and home again to Texas.

The year 2010 brought other changes as well, though, besides the birth of our long-awaited baby. In February of that year, my mom, stepdad, and younger brother moved from the little house in the country that we'd bought just a couple of months before my twelfth birthday. It was a kind of sad little wood-frame house that had lots of quirks from the start, but we were glad to have found a place we could afford that was back in the town that my sister and I called home. We had left all of our friends at school a few months earlier and moved in with my grandparents while my stepdad worked a job up in New Jersey, with the intention that we would all move there eventually. We didn't, though, and I was delighted when we moved back "home" and I was able to re-join my sixth grade class and, more importantly, my friends.

It had been a very tough transition for us girls at a new school and in a new town (my mom's hometown), although Mom would have loved to have stayed, I'm sure. My sister struggled at the new high school, not popularity-wise but with keeping her grades up. I felt completely isolated and didn't make a single friend at the elementary/middle school, and it was hard to be away from my sister for, really, the first time in my life (our previous school had grades K-12 all in one building, so we never were very far apart). And so that little house wasn't much to look at, but it was a way for us to move back home and back to the small school and friends that we loved.

The little house in the country did improve a tiny bit over the years. My mom and stepdad had the bathrooms remodeled after a few years, and when my sister and I married a couple of handy guys, we began to help out with improvements here and there as a family (painting the old, dark-paneled walls, changing the flooring, etc.), but always dreaming of seeing our mom in a much more comfortable, sturdy home someday. Mom had done her very best to make that house a home, but it required lots and lots of work. It was poorly insulated, which made it very hot in the summer and quite chilly in the winter. Mom had to clean the walls a few times a year because of mold and mildew, and the ceiling boasted some pretty interesting designs due to water stains from a leaky roof. The house was becoming much more of a burden and we began to start looking at options for them to finally move to a new house. Mom doubted it would ever happen, but lo and behold, a buyer appeared and after much work to get the house inspected and make necessary improvements, it actually sold. We helped them move during the early months of my pregnancy with Lily, and I have to say that we all felt like a weight had been lifted when they spent their first night in a brand new, beautiful home.

I never, ever thought I would miss the little gray house in the country. But it turns out, I do. I would never want to change their living situation back to what it was by any means, but it has been strange to realize that I actually miss turning at the only landmark in that tiny town (the little white post office), driving down that old dirt road, sitting on the porch swing, and listening to the familiar, soothing sound of trains rumbling down the railroad tracks at night -- a sound that lulled me to sleep nearly every night from my preteen years until I left for college. I miss that small bedroom right off the front porch that I shared with my sister until she moved out to attend college. And I miss that same room after we painted it blue for my baby brother, who took down our frilly curtains and our posters of cute boys and filled it up with dinosaurs and little boy things instead.

After they moved out I used to think about what it would feel like to drive by the old place and see what changes the new owners would undoubtedly make. I thought that, if my pregnancy was successful this time, it would be fun to take our child by there someday and show her the little house where we used to live and where her aunt and I spent our formative teenage years. The house wasn't full of all good memories, definitely, but we did have some good times there. And as you know, my baby arrived safe and sound in the fall of that year, but she'll never be able to see the house. We won't be able to show her anything except photographs and the land where it once stood because just four months after they moved out, there was a fire at mom's old house. Fortunately, no one was home and no one was injured, but the house was eventually torn down completely. It's all gone now: the wooden porches that Mom swept clean almost every day, the windowsill of our old bedroom where two of my friends carved their name (they had the same name -- James), and even the big sweet-gum tree that stood right beside the front steps. All gone.

I've been thinking a lot lately about the old and the new and gradually realizing that change is really okay. Sometimes it's great, but sometimes the changes take some getting used to. "Going home" still feels pretty different and new to me, but we're already making new memories in Mom's new house and it's kind of sweet to know that Lily will only think of one place when she looks back on going to visit her Granny. It'll be a place that holds lots of special memories from her childhood, memories that we're in the process of building for her even next week as we gather under that new roof, in a house that is only about a year older than Lily herself.

So there are lots and lots of new things for our family these days, but we're settling into some new routines and enjoying the changes. Having a little one around is helping us to see things from a new perspective, too, and it encourages us to roll with the changes and make some brand new traditions as we go along. Chuck and I were recently discussing how, even though we've been married for more than 13 years now and even though we were always a family even before we had Lily, this family of three thing is a new dynamic. In a way it feels like starting over.

Sometimes starting over can be a very good thing.

Catching Up

Hello friends! It's been a while but I'm finally taking a few minutes to update the blog. November and December (so far) have been their typical busy months for us, but things are going well and we are anticipating the Christmas season. I have only a few gifts left to buy and the house is cozy and decorated, so those are things that are making me smile these days.

Speaking of things that make me smile, Lily Rae is doing great! She continues to be our joy and answer to our heartfelt prayers. In lieu of a long, detailed update, I'll just hit the high points in this post:
Our girl is 14 months old and weighs 23 pounds. She just cut tooth number five, with the sixth one soon to follow (that's 3, almost 4 on the bottom and 2 on top). The little stinker is still not walking, although she can stand independently and "walk" pretty well when holding on to things. She can even climb up onto the couch all by herself, but she won't take steps unless she's holding onto something. It definitely could happen any day now, or she could decide to tease us for a few more weeks/months!

Lily has always been a champ when it comes to eating. She loves fruit and vegetables and chicken and ham. Her favorite food right now is mandarin oranges, and she squeals with delight when I give her her sippy cup of milk.
Her sleeping patterns were still fairly unpredictable at night (meaning she was waking up several times a night and generally pretty restless) until about a week ago when something finally clicked, thank the Lord. She has been sleeping through the night again for about a week now and all three of us are much happier people.

Personality-wise, Lily is one of the most affectionate children I've ever met. She is incredibly sweet and loves to give hugs and kisses. This is one of the many things that I love about her. She truly has a way of making people feel loved and special. For many months now her daddy and I have prayed that, most of all, Lily would grow up to love God and love others, and we really feel like those seeds are being planted early in her little heart.

As Christmas quickly approaches (our second one as parents), I'm overwhelmed and humbled and joyful all at the same time. After so many years spent waiting and wondering while our hearts were aching, we are grateful to God for the healing that has taken place through the birth of a child. Appropriate thoughts for this month as we reflect on the true meaning of Christmas and the birth of our Savior.

I was just thanking the Lord tonight for so many amazing answered prayers in my small corner of the blogging community. So many of my long-time blog friends have welcomed their miracle babies in recent weeks and several others are getting ready to have their babies, some through the miracle of adoption. My heart swells with joy and my eyes fill with tears when I think about, collectively, how far we've come. I know the heartaches that have led to this point and I can't help but rejoice with those of you who are rejoicing this year, while always, always praying for those who are still waiting and hoping.

To close this little update, here are a couple of recent pictures. The first is a family pic taken last month that we're using for our Christmas cards this year.


And one more of a happy little girl who's all ready for Christmas!

Wordless Wednesday (We Love Fall!)

My First Mother's Day

Sunday was my first Mother's Day to celebrate.

I feel like I've been a mother before this year, of course, but this was my first one with a baby in my arms. In previous years I had the heart of a mother, but I'd never been able to hold my babies, see their faces, or even know their names. Unfortunately, no one really recognizes you as a mother in that case, besides maybe a few caring family members and special, sensitive friends.

I think it will always be a day of mixed feelings. I can't erase all the years of hurt that I used to feel on that day, but I will rejoice for the child that I've been given. I'll always miss the six little ones who aren't here, and I'll always feel a heaviness in my heart for all of my precious friends who will be hurting and grieving and dreading the day.

For a long time I didn't know whether I'd ever be on the other side of recurrent miscarriage, but I did know that if it ever did happen to me, I wouldn't care about feeling honored or celebrated on Mother's Day. For me, the gift was my daughter, my miracle, my answered prayer, and my healing heart. It wasn't a day about me; it was a day about the power of my God. Although it was a long and rocky road to get there, He finally brought the two of us together in His own time and His own way. Sometimes I didn't wait patiently. Sometimes I felt angry, confused, bitter, and hopeless. But God mercifully made a way for a baby to grow in my womb, and that's what I celebrated on Mother's Day.

I wanted to have a simple, sweet day with my husband and daughter, and that's exactly what it was. It was a beautiful day here in Texas, and although I specifically told my husband that I didn't expect gifts, flowers, etc., he did all of that anyway (which is true to form). It was really, really special. After a sweet morning at home just the three of us, we went to church in a nearby town where we'd been invited to watch my dear friend's daughter perform in a play. It wasn't a Mother's Day service at all, but the pastor did recognize the occasion briefly during the welcome. I was touched that, on my first time in church on Mother's Day in probably 5 or 6 years, this particular pastor made a point to pay tribute to all women present. He had the men and children come forward to take a flower and hand it out to mothers, grandmothers, aunts, teachers, or any other women who had impacted their lives, and I thought that it was done just right. It was a far cry from some of the really isolating, lonely Mother's Day church services that I'd experienced in the past. I'm sure it may be true that my heart is different now, but I genuinely felt that it was the kind of moment that would have left most women in just about any circumstance or stage of life feeling pretty appreciated and special. It was great.

We had lunch with our friends afterward (I was so proud that Lily again sat so well through the entire service!) and returned home to a fun afternoon of ice cream and a walk in the park. It was a perfect and lovely day.

Of course I did miss not being with my own mom on that day. We knew after being there for the past two weekends that we wouldn't be together for Mother's Day, but my mom was able to spend the day with her mother, who hasn't been doing well lately. And my sweet mom sent me a precious card that touched my heart so much. I wanted to share with you what she wrote that brought tears to my eyes when I read it.

Stace,

It is with great awe of our heavenly Father that I am able to send you this card. Years ago I found this card... I kept this waiting and praying for God to give you a miracle and the desire of your broken heart. Oh, what a beautiful blessing He gave to all of us... our sweet, precious, and beautiful Lily Rae!
You are the wonderful mother I always knew that you'd be. Cherish each minute, because they grow so fast. My heart just overflows with love every time I see her. Enjoy your first Mother's Day, and to God be all the glory!

I love you,
Mom

To God be the glory!
Amen, Mom. Amen.

Mother's Day 2011, My Longing Fulfilled

For Mother's Day

Mother’s Day has been an emotional day for me for a number of years. It’s one of those days, like so many holidays, that can bring up a lot of hurt when you’re on the outside looking in. When you are a mother without her children here on earth or are struggling with infertility, it can be such a painful, hard day.

For years I tried to handle this day not by ignoring it altogether, but by focusing on celebrating my own amazing mom and the special women in my life. I made sure that I was surrounded by my family on that day every year, as often as possible. We were almost never home on Mother’s Day, choosing instead to spend it with my family or my in-laws so that my mind wouldn’t be on all that I’d lost.

We announced our first pregnancy to my mom on Mother’s Day nine years ago. I was so full of joy and excitement on that day, and boy was I naïve, too. Miscarriage was nowhere on my radar. I knew some women who had been through it, including my own mother. My mom lost the baby she was carrying after she had me, and she has always talked with us about that loss. She wanted that baby and was very sad when her pregnancy ended too soon. I know she still thinks about him or her more than thirty years later, wondering what might have been. I sometimes wondered what it would have been like to have a younger sibling close to my age, but I really never thought about miscarriage happening to me. I certainly never ever imagined that it would happen to me six times, and that my body would fail to support a pregnancy over and over again.

My husband and I were talking this week about how having Lily has changed things for us. She has changed everything, but perhaps not only in the most obvious ways. I told him how this Mother’s Day feels so different. In the past, I missed the babies that we lost so much. It’s a different kind of missing, though – not the kind where you miss someone you once knew and have a memory of their face or their laugh or something you did or shared together. I missed them in the sense of feeling an absence. My life was missing them, or to be more clear, they were missing from my life, and in their place was a huge, empty hole. Lily hasn’t taken their place, but she has filled that hole in my heart and fulfilled the desire that I had to have a child and be a mother.

In a way that I didn’t expect, though, she makes me miss the babies I miscarried from a whole new perspective. Now that I have Lily, it makes me realize much more clearly what was lost. We didn’t just lose six fuzzy images on an ultrasound screen. We lost our children, each one unique and special and loved. Now that I’ve seen Lily’s round, rosy cheeks, looked into her dark eyes, and heard her squeal with laughter; now that I’ve rocked her to sleep every single day for seven and a half months, I realize more than ever before that I will always miss the babies that we didn’t get to keep with us. She makes me understand how much I did love them and how much more I could have loved them every day. As long as I’m here and they are not, they will be missing from my life. And as long as I go on missing them, I will all the more appreciate the miracle that I’ve been given.

My perspective is very different this year for Mother’s Day. I suspected it would be so, but some of the feelings have surprised me. Most of all, of course, I feel full and happy and grateful. I don’t feel that emptiness anymore. I’m profoundly thankful and humbled that I have someone here who calls me “Mommy.” Well, she can’t talk just yet, but there’s a sweet baby girl whose face lights up when I enter the room and who thinks I’m the funniest person in the whole world (even funnier than Daddy!), and I can’t believe I get to be her mother.

Flowers, cards, and gifts are all lovely things, but I have my gift already. It’s so much more than I ever dreamed, and it’s more than enough.

As always… praying for those of you who are waiting, especially on this day.

First Easter

Mommy and Lily - Easter 2011

We had a wonderful first Easter with Lily this year!

The three of us went to Louisiana to stay with my mom for the weekend (and Lily and I stayed all week). We all attended Easter services at my sister's church, where her father-in-law is the pastor. It felt really good to be back in church again. You may recall that the small mission church where we had been serving for the past 8 years closed just about a month before Lily was born, and we have not yet looked for a new church home. We were happy to be able to take Lily to church for the first time on Resurrection Sunday! My family occupied an entire pew that morning, and it was so good to be there and worship together.

Showing off her Easter outfit :)

I truly had no idea how Lily would do during the service. I was fully prepared to spend at least part (if not all) of it out in the foyer with her, but she surprised me by sitting quietly in my sister's lap the entire time! She enjoyed the music and played with a toy during the message and we never heard a peep out of her. She hammed it up a bit toward the end for the folks sitting behind us, too, making sweet eyes and cute faces at them. I was so proud of my little Easter Lily! We were just delighted that she did so well, and while I'm sure it probably won't go that perfectly every time, it encouraged me about starting our quest soon to find a new church where we live.

Of course, Lily got some Easter baskets filled with goodies: board books, teethers, and small stuffed animals that are perfect for her right now.


We were happy to share little Easter surprises with our sweet nephews, too. I'm so glad I could be there to spend lots of time with them during their Spring Break. My 8-year-old nephew lost his two front teeth just before we arrived, and boy was I happy that it happened before I got there. Pulling teeth has always, always given me the creeps!

A trip home to Louisiana wouldn't be complete without awesome food, and we had plenty of it! I ate rice and gravy to my heart's content, and Lily was happy as a clam because someone was always available to hold her and play with her. It was lots of fun being there to celebrate and go out to eat for my sister's birthday, too.

I finally got my long hair chopped off later in the week as well. My last haircut was about 8 months ago, so you can imagine how good it felt! It was also a treat to be able to watch the Royal Wedding with my mom. We got up and watched it together in the wee hours of the morning, oohing and ahhing over every little detail. Did you guys watch and enjoy it as much as we did?

Lily and I had a lovely week away, but we sure did miss Daddy! He came back to get us the following weekend and I know he was happy to have his baby girl back home.

A (Happy) New Year

Before Lily came along, New Year's was always one of the hardest times of the year for me. I know that many people dealing with infertility have a hard time around the holidays, particularly at Christmas. That was tough, too, but for me it really hit after Christmas.

I guess it was largely because being with my family made me feel secure and happy and made me (almost) forget about the familiar sadness of being without the children that I'd lost as well as the one(s) I wasn't sure I'd ever have. The warmth surrounding Christmas with family and what it means to me as a believer in Christ, the joy of sharing the holiday with our sweet nephews each year, and even the beautiful decorations and music that I anticipate all year long always helped get me through what could have been a very sad time. But when all of that was over and we returned to our quiet house, the empty feeling would return. My undecorated home after the holidays even reflected how I felt: empty and cold.

On top of that, January is my birthday month. Exactly one month after Christmas I turn one year older. Because of recurrent miscarriage, that wasn't really a happy time for me anymore. I dreaded another year gone and all of the lost opportunities of having our baby while my age kept increasing.

Every new year had me wondering if it would be the year that we would bring home a baby. I would start each one with a mixture of hope and dread (mostly dread), unsure of what it would hold.

Of course this year was different. While I don't feel that infertility is no longer a part of my life, I didn't start the year with it at the forefront of my mind as I had previously done. It felt... refreshing. It truly felt as every new year should -- like a new beginning and a fresh start.

I still struggle with coming home after being with family in Louisiana all week. I think that will always be hard for me. The past few months have been a struggle for me as I've been thinking a lot about "home" and where we may live in the near future. No, we have absolutely no plans to move; it's just been on my mind lately. Ever since Lily was born, I'm just not sure Texas is where I want to be. (Nothing against The Lone Star State!) I have A LOT more to say about this, but I think it's a topic for another post!

Anyway, back to the original subject... new year... starting over...

The other day I was cleaning out the cabinet underneath our bathroom sink. The sink had been draining slowly and my husband was getting ready to take a look at the pipes, so I figured it was a good time to clean out some stuff we don't use or need anymore. I threw out two boxes of (expired) ovulation predictor kits. There was one box of home pregnancy tests with one unopened test remaining. It was the same box that gave us the two pink lines for Lily one year ago. The test doesn't expire until the end of this year, so I decided to hang on to it. It felt good to throw out the OPKs, I have to admit, but seeing the pregnancy test made me realize that my concerns about my future fertility aren't over. But, with that being said, I prefer to spend my days enjoying the child that we finally have rather than worrying about what might happen in the future. I can't help but think about it every now and then, of course. I still pray that our days of dealing with recurrent pregnancy loss are over for good. I have no idea whether we'll be able to have a sibling for Lily. Thinking about it at this stage makes my stomach hurt, so I try not to let the subject occupy my thoughts for too long.

I still think it's a miracle that we had a successful pregnancy last year and that we started 2011 with a smiling, happy 3-month old. It blows my mind. My husband and I still ask each other pretty frequently, "Can you believe she's here and we get to keep her?"

I'm anticipating this happy new year with all of the special memories we'll be making with our precious girl.

Lily Rae at 3 1/2 months, January 2011

Three Months

My girl is three months old today!

Time has truly been flying these days. I can't believe how quickly Christmas is approaching, especially when I think back to this time last year and all that has happened since.

Last year, this day was CD1 (cycle day one) and it was the day that brought clear proof that our first IUI had not been successful. I wrote a post that day called Maybe Someday, and reading those words again brought back those emotions I felt when I wrote them a year ago. It was hard getting that news a few days before Christmas -- a holiday that we all know can be tough when you're without children of your own. The news had been difficult, but we had plans to try again with the new cycle. I remember that at least that part was encouraging. The end of my hopes for the previous cycle brought with it a fresh start and another chance at a pregnancy.

We'd been waiting three years. It had been that long since our last pregnancy. That was disappointing to me, but I welcomed the break from experiencing heartbreaking miscarriages. I wasn't sure how I might handle a seventh loss if that's what would happen, but I was finally putting my heart back on the line again. The IUI route was totally new to us, but it was a decision we'd put much thought and prayer into. By December 21, 2009, we had a clear plan for IUI #2. The only issue was that it would be tricky to do a timed cycle during the holiday season. With that in mind, though, we decided to go through with it and just do whatever we needed to do, which included a break in the middle of our time with family in Louisiana to drive back to Houston for a doctor visit and then all the way back to Louisiana.

It all seemed well worth it when we went to the doctor for the ultrasound and saw that I had a nice big 29mm follicle that was ready to go! I had the trigger shot to guarantee that I'd ovulate, and we would return in a couple of days for the insemination. My hopes came crashing down, however, when we found out a few hours later that the IUI was canceled because there would be no doctor in the office on the day after New Year's -- when we needed things to happen. I knew right then that our chance was gone. We'd had a plan and it was going beautifully, but I hadn't anticipated this. We returned home from our travels feeling lower than we'd felt in a long time. I remember telling my doctor over the phone that our chances weren't good at all. Because of the traveling, my husband and I hadn't been "together" in nearly a week and I was sure we'd missed our chance. He reassured me that we could try again next cycle.

As you already know, the cycle that began on December 21 last year, that 29mm follicle, that chance that I thought we'd surely lost, turned into my beautiful baby girl who turns three months old today. She's my reminder that God doesn't need my plans in order to make things happen. That day was the beginning of my "Maybe Someday," even though I wouldn't know it for about another month.

This Christmas finds me in such a different place when compared with last year... and the previous eight Christmases or so.

There is a new ornament on my tree.


There are three stockings on my fireplace.


And, finally, there's a miracle in my arms.


Wishing you a Merry Christmas and a year full of miracles in 2011!

Thankful

This year it's easy for me to say that I'm thankful. I have an amazing baby girl who is healthy and happy and here to stay, and that's something that I wasn't sure could ever happen. That is certainly reason to give thanks to the Lord! My heart is full of joy for this holiday season.

For many years it was hard for me to say what I was thankful for. Don't get me wrong; it's not that I wasn't thankful or didn't appreciate my loving family and precious friends. I have a husband who loves and supports me no matter what, and I loved the life and the home that we'd made together. All of that was true, but at the same time my heart was hurting. I knew that, if asked at Thanksgiving what I was thankful for, I wouldn't be able to speak without breaking down. For a long time I allowed the wonderful things in my life to be overshadowed by my grief and heartache.

It was around the time that I began to blog and really open up about my feelings about recurrent pregnancy loss that my heart started to change. I felt like there might be some meaning in all of this and some way of reaching out by sharing my experience. I had no idea how large the community of IF bloggers was when I started, but finding it really helped to give me a sense of purpose through that trial. To know that there were others out there who understood was also a huge help for me. Before long I was once again able to feel thankfulness -- even though I was still in the midst of a painful struggle.

Soon I realized that I could be thankful not just in spite of what I'd been through, but because of it. Let me be clear about this, though. I'm NOT thankful for miscarriage. I wish I had never gone through that horror in the first place and I wish that no one else ever had to experience it either.

But I AM thankful for...

• Learning to lean on my Heavenly Father, and knowing from experience that He will never leave my side, even when I'm full of fear, doubt, and anger.
• Learning that with God, nothing is impossible.
• Seeing firsthand that I was much stronger than I ever thought I could be.
• Reassurance that I married the most caring and loving man who would stick by me through thick and thin.
• Renewed faith in the love and support of family and friends who prayed for us so faithfully.
• An entire online community of new friends who encouraged me along the way and helped me find some good in a bad situation.

I could really go on and on! All of this came out of some pretty dreadful years when I felt like I was struggling just to keep my head above water. Those are the reasons why I can look back on that time and be thankful for what came out of it. I can now be so grateful for where I am today, Thanksgiving 2010.

Thank you for contributing to that, for sharing in my joy now and for holding me up when I needed support then. Wishing you all a very Happy Thanksgiving!

Mother's Day: Halfway There

It's time for Mother's Day again, a day that is often so painful for those of us who live with infertility and/or pregnancy loss.

This year the holiday has found me in a different place. It is the halfway mark of this pregnancy, 20 weeks, and in more ways than one I feel halfway there. I still feel as though I have one foot in and one foot out.

This year I will be wished a "Happy Mother's Day" by people around me. Obviously I think that's a very sweet sentiment. I don't want to hold back my feelings of joy and celebration about this little miracle inside! I feel like I've been climbing a rocky, steep mountain for almost a decade. As anyone would do when they can finally see the summit, I feel the excitement of it and cannot wait to reach that point. A sweet friend who climbed her own mountain told me something wise that has stuck with me for a couple of years. She said that the longer we climb, the more our perspective changes as we work to get higher and higher. It's true. When I look around, I see things differently than I did 2 years ago, 4 years ago, 6 years ago. There are some who have to climb much higher than I will, and I'm sure the view will be different up there.

As excited as I am about being halfway through a pregnancy, a goal we feared we might never, ever reach, I can't forget that my path along the way is marked by six tiny crosses. Although our babies don't have actual graves here, we live with the memory of them as we move forward. This baby I'm carrying won't replace the ones we've lost. Of course we will welcome her with so much love and so much joy when she arrives, so much so that I can hardly imagine the complex emotions that I'll be feeling on that day, but we will always remember how much love and how many hopes each of those lives represented. We wanted all of those babies and we love each of them so deeply.

I guess what feels funny is that this year, at 20 weeks pregnant, people will observe me and declare me a mother. I haven't tucked my own children into bed at night or sent them off to school or cooked them a single meal... yet. I don't feel like more of a mother than I did on Mother's Day 8 years ago, the day we announced to my mother that we were having our first baby. That, to me, feels like a lifetime ago. I am so much closer to my dream of bringing home a baby, and that does mean so very much to me. But all these years I've felt like a mother without her children, the kind of mother who only gets recognized by those closest to me, those with particularly sensitive hearts and sympathies, and those who have walked this same lonely road.

I wish we lived in a world that recognized a 6-week pregnancy as just as real and just as loved and wanted as a 20-week pregnancy. It's so sad to me that so many women who have been through pregnancy loss are excluded from this day. And there are those who spend their days hoping and wishing for a pregnancy that hasn't happened yet. I believe that they are mothers, too. I've met a lot of people who haven't had children and yet have the heart of a mother. I wish Mother's Day could be a day where all of those beautiful women felt recognized and appreciated.

So, this year I feel halfway there. My heart is overwhelmed with joy at the idea of holding my precious baby! I still can't believe this is the year that it will happen.

My heart is also saddened because of the sweet babies we didn't hold.

And it's saddened because so many are still hurting and still waiting.

I want to acknowledge all of the mothers out there, whatever your story, and all of the amazing women who continue to climb mountains. Happy Mother's Day to YOU, sweet friends.

Another Year Over And A New One Just Begun

Thanks so much for all of your comments and support over the Christmas holiday. I haven't looked at blogs in over a week (and hope to get caught up with all of you soon!) but I was mostly able to keep up with e-mail over the holidays. I hope everyone had a great Christmas and New Year. Christmas at my house with my in-laws went well, and we spent the following week in Louisiana with my family. We just returned home Saturday night. We both slept for 12 hours straight and then we spent all day Sunday taking down our Christmas decorations. It was exhausting! I still have loads of cleaning to do, but I'm taking a few minutes to update the blog. The cleaning can wait just a little while longer, I'm sure!

I always find the New Year to be bittersweet. It's great to have a fresh start and to be hopeful about what may come, and it's also great to say goodbye to a year that seriously let you down. But after so many let-downs, it gets harder and harder to hope that this year will be different.

January is undoubtedly a hard month for many. I always hear on the news that it's the most depressing month of the year. When I was younger I liked it because it's my birthday month, but now even that has become tainted by my infertility struggle. I feel like I want time to stand still until I get all of this worked out, but it just keeps marching on, ready or not. Now when the new year starts, I can't help but be overcome by numbers and the milestones I now associate with January:

5 years since my first laparoscopic surgery in January 2005.

3 years since my sixth miscarriage in January 2007.

3 years since we were last pregnant.

2 years since my second laparoscopic surgery in January 2008.

This month I'll turn 33.

And we're now entering our 9th year of trying to add to our family.

I don't want to start the new year feeling burdened and defeated and frustrated. Honestly, I would love to be able to write about a much more positive outlook for 2010, but I just don't think I'm there yet.

As much as we loved being with family to ring in the New Year (and we truly did), it has been a rough start. As you know, just before Christmas I found out that the first IUI didn't work. I knew that the start of a new cycle was going to be crazy around the holidays, but we were committed to it. Our week in Louisiana was interrupted by a quick trip back to Houston for the CD12 ultrasound (which we had on cycle day 11, New Year's Eve, since the office would be closed on Friday). The trip was fine, but when we got there I was very unhappy to discover that Dr. G wasn't there and the person doing my ultrasound was my very least favorite nurse in the world. I was able to keep my composure and just get on with the scan, and we had 4 more great looking follicles, including one huge one that would be ready to ovulate on Saturday. I got the trigger shot and we drove all the way back to Louisiana and made it to my mom's by noon. On our way into town to go get lunch, the nurse called to tell me that there wouldn't be an IUI on Saturday after all. There would be no one available to do it that day.

Needless to say I was incredibly disappointed, not to mention angry. January 2nd? What is so important about that day that NONE of the doctors in that entire office are working? I could honestly understand if it had been Christmas Day. But the day AFTER New Year's Day? I still can't believe it. I felt like we'd been through all of the trouble and scheduling and anticipation for this entire cycle for nothing. And I know that it may not seem like such a big deal, but waiting another month and feeling like we've lost this one is huge to me. We get only 12 times a year to try (if we're lucky), and it is definitely hard to watch an opportunity pass us by.

Although I know it's really just a minor setback, I haven't been handling it well for the past couple of days. I have all kinds of ugly emotions going on and I know that I seriously need to put it behind me and move on. January is all about starting over, right? We're only four days in, but I really hope that 2010 will have much better things in store.

Merry Christmas!

"O ye beneath life's crushing load,

Whose forms are bending low,

Who toil along the climbing way

With painful steps and slow;

Look now, for glad and golden hours

Come swiftly on the wing;

Oh rest beside the weary road

And hear the angels sing."

(from It Came Upon A Midnight Clear)

Chuck and I want to wish you all a very Merry Christmas! You are all so often in my thoughts and in my daily prayers. I know that the holidays can be particularly hard for those who are waiting for their children, for those who have experienced loss, and for all of those who are childless not by choice. I pray that we will all find peace and joy this Christmas season, even despite our circumstances.

With love and prayers,
Stacey

Christmas Past

Each year when December comes around and it's time to decorate for Christmas, one of my very favorite things is getting out some of the old ornaments that have been around since my childhood. After I got married and had a home of my own, my mom let me have a few special things from Christmases past. They are not valuable in the sense that they cost very much money, but to me they are worth so much. These ornaments were on or under our tree or placed somewhere in the house every Christmas for as long as I can remember. I consider it a joy to give them a place of honor in my home today. They serve as a reminder to me for many things.

Here is the old nativity scene that Mom always placed at the foot of our small tree:


And here is one of our favorite old ornaments that my sis and I always called "the mouse in the chimney":


You see, we didn't have much when I was growing up. The things that are special to me and have a special place in my memory and in my heart are not fancy. Times were very, very hard for a very long time. When my sister and I were little, our mom would put up a small tree. Most of the decorations on it were ones that we had made at school or church, because it's all we could afford and because those meant the most to her anyway.

I don't really remember Christmas of 1978. It was one month shy of my second birthday. It stands out in my mind, however, because of a few old Polaroid photographs and because of the stories that have been told about it. Christmas was certainly unique that year. It was the year my dad won $200 playing pool, and he and my mom decided to spend it all on Christmas! Here's what our biggest childhood Christmas Day looked like:


Wow! It was a really big deal to us. Although I was too young to remember the day, I do remember playing with that basketball goal and that baby carriage for years to come.

We only have pictures from two of those early Christmases because they were the only ones during which we owned a camera. After only a couple of years, the Polaroid stopped working right and my dad tossed it into a field in Kansas during a road trip. I've always wondered if anyone ever found it!

The next couple of photos come from the following Christmas, 1979. It was thirty years ago this year, and one month before my third birthday. This is more like what a typical Christmas would have looked like at our house. There wasn't any bonus from any barroom activity that year, but I'm quite sure my sis and I were just as excited about Christmas Day!


If you look very carefully, you can see the little nativity under the tree. I even think I see the mouse in the chimney toward the top of the tree.


(That's me in yellow and my sis in green.)

Later I know there were many years when we had no tree and knew there would be few or no gifts. Fortunately, Mom knew better than to invent stories about Santa Claus. How would you explain to poor kids that even though they'd been good, Santa wasn't coming? I have always appreciated the fact that our mom made the decision to tell us that Santa was just a story that people tell for fun, but it wasn't real. We didn't burst anyone's bubble with the news, either; we just felt like we were in on a grown-up secret.

Mom knew that one day we wouldn't care that we didn't have mall photos with the man in the red suit and white beard, because she knew she had tucked the true meaning of Christmas away in our hearts. Her gift was that we knew that Christmas was about Jesus: Emmanuel, God with us. She taught two little girls that God loved us whether we were bad or good, and He blessed us with the greatest gift of all even though we were poor. That was something that we could believe in and hold on to.

So, that's what I focus on when I remember Christmas past. Sure, it was hard to see others with their new toys and games and clothes year after year. The true lesson and meaning of things is difficult to recognize when you're a child, but it is one that I hope will stick with me forever.

Sometimes I still need a reminder that Christmas isn't about things. It's about a Savior, it's about love, and it's about family. It's a great lesson for Christmas: past, present, and future.

Change of Pace

As they often do around this time of year, things have really been picking up around here. We returned home late Sunday from our Thanksgiving travels. It seems I have been working virtually non-stop on laundry, with breaks here and there to do some online Christmas shopping! We put our Christmas decorations up last Monday so it would be taken care of when we got home from Thanksgiving. We are so happy we did that.

It was great to walk in and find it already done and looking so festive and welcoming.



This week I also worked on addressing Christmas cards, which Chuck dropped in the mail for me on his lunch break today. We send out an insane amount of Christmas greetings each year. This time it was around 165! How many do you send?

We still have some shopping, wrapping, and outdoor decorating to do, but I'm finally starting to feel at least somewhat prepared for the holidays. There's even a chance of snow in Houston tomorrow!

We'll be leaving town again this weekend to go visit my family. Today my sweet little nephew N turned 7 years old. We are excited to celebrate with him over the weekend. When I spoke to him several days ago, he asked me if our bags were already packed and ready to go! What a sweetie.

This season always brings about a change of pace with all the activities that take place. The title of this post, however, signifies another change as well.

After discussing some of our concerns at the consultation with our doctor in October, we decided to step things up a bit. Although I know it may be hard for many of you to believe, we are now in the middle of our first cycle with the aid of fertility drugs. To clarify, in 8 years of trying to have a baby, my husband and I have conceived 6 times on our own, with each pregnancy ending in miscarriage. We have been under the care of fertility specialists for many years now, but it is only in the last 2 years or so that we have had trouble conceiving. Although we were never opposed to fertility drugs, we never needed to consider them before now. All this time our story has been about loss much more than it has been about trying to conceive. Even now it's hard to think of making something happen to achieve pregnancy when our true concern is what will happen AFTER. At the same time, we know that we will never find out until we take that step.

And so, this cycle marks my first experience with Clomid. I was nervous about taking it the week of Thanksgiving because of our plans to be away from home, but it went okay. I wasn't much more emotional or moody than I normally am. :)

Yesterday the first ultrasound showed 4 follicles, but only one that really looked promising at 18 mm. I have another appointment tomorrow to see how things are progressing and we will go from there. All of this is a huge change of pace for us, and even sharing all of these specifics feels so out of the ordinary for me. It feels like I'm reading an entirely different blog!

We are trying to remain as hopeful as we can. As wonderful as the idea of pregnancy is, remember that it is also a very scary time for us. While we would celebrate any life that we are given for as long or short a period of time, another loss would be devastating. A positive test is just the beginning and not the ultimate goal. Still, I'm asking the Lord to answer our prayers. I'm asking Him to intervene. I'm begging for a miracle and pleading for a fresh start.

Now that I've let the cat out of the bag, I will post some updates on how this cycle is going. It is a HUGE step outside of my comfort zone, though, as this area of my life feels so fragile and so tender still. My natural instinct is to keep it protected. For some reason it has been far easier for me to share the emotional side of my struggle than it is to divulge the physical day-to-day happenings.

You guys mean so much to us and your support is appreciated more than I could ever express. I can't thank you enough for choosing to walk this road with us! We would appreciate any of your prayers and well-wishes as we try to become more aggressive in our pursuit of this dream.

P.S. For any of my real-life friends who might not know what some of this stuff means, please feel free to email me and I'd be glad to fill you in. Love you guys!

'80s Rock, Thankfulness, and a Giveaway

It's a strange title, I know, but I promise it's all going to come together by the end of this post. Keep reading!

Earlier this week I was so excited because my favorite band in the whole wide world released a new album. I've been waiting for the November 10th release date for months and months and it was finally here! That evening my dear husband picked up the new CD on his way home and delivered it into my eager hands.

I'm a child of the '80s. I was born in 1977, so most of my school years were spent in that glorious decade of big hair and rock-and-roll. Honestly, I've been a fan of Bon Jovi for almost as long as I can remember. I was about 9 years old when my sister and I bought our first Bon Jovi tape. We listened to it all the time, but it was with their next album, New Jersey (1988), that I became a true fan for life. I played that tape in my sister's Walkman until I knew every single word to every single song. It was four more years until they released another album, so I had plenty of time to memorize every line. One of the things I love most about this band is that they didn't die with the '80s. They released two more albums (not counting the greatest hits one) during my high school years in the early '90s, and the brand new CD is their sixth one in our current decade. I absolutely love these guys and the way that their sound has grown and evolved with the times. The music is different enough from their early days of synthesizer-heavy anthem rock to be current, yet it's still true to their original style.

Can you tell that I'm a fan? I am, people! If you haven't listened to Bon Jovi in a few years or twenty, give them another try. Their lyrics are positive and hopeful and the music still rocks. The new CD is called The Circle. I personally enjoy all of the songs on this particular album that deal with overcoming obstacles, like We Weren't Born to Follow, Thorn in my Side, and Happy Now. Check it out HERE or HERE.

We're changing topics now, but I'll come back to this later, I promise.

Sometime around the third or fourth week of October of every year, my house begins to look like an amazon-dot-com warehouse. It means that my Christmas shopping has begun! My husband and I save money here and there all year long so we can do our end-of-the-year gift giving. I got my first couple of brown boxes in the mail today and they were full of all kinds of surprises for our family and friends.

There was one little thing that I had ordered for myself because I just couldn't wait for Christmas. I don't know how many of you are familiar with The Pioneer Woman, but she has a fabulous blog that is chock full of the most delicious recipes you've ever tasted. I have tried three of the recipes from her blog in the past few months and I haven't been disappointed. In fact, I've been amazed! Here is a photo of my sister cooking the Pioneer Woman's pot roast at my house earlier this year:


The Pioneer Woman just published a beautiful new cookbook, which is the gift I gave to myself. I didn't just order one copy, though. I also bought one for my sis, on the grounds that she may even get it early if she's really, really good. Oh, and I bought a third copy to give as a Christmas gift to some lucky family member or friend.

Oh yes, and I bought a fourth copy... for YOU!

Because it's November and because I am so thankful for each and every one of my special bloggy pals (I really mean that), I'm doing my first-ever giveaway! And let me tell you that you don't want to miss this prize. The cookbook is amazing. I know you will love the beautiful photographs and the step-by-step instructions that this cookbook offers.

Now, I know you may be wondering what this has to do with '80s rock? Well, in order to enter for the random drawing, I want you to leave a comment telling me YOUR favorite song from the 1980s. I won't pick a winner based on your answers -- that's just for fun. The winner's name will be chosen completely at random. Leave one comment from today, November 13th, until midnight on November 17th. I'll announce the winner here on the blog AND in your email if you display an address on your blog profile. If you don't have an address displayed, I will also try to let you know via a comment on your blog. Don't forget to check back to see if you've won the cookbook! You'll be asked to email your name and address to me (staceysthoughts@gmail.com) so I can send it as soon as possible. I want you to have this lovely book in your hands before Thanksgiving arrives!

Just to clarify: I'm not giving away a Bon Jovi CD! I'm giving away a cookbook! :)

Okay, so let's hear your favorite '80s song. I think I might have to go with Bon Jovi's own Livin' on a Prayer. And it cracks me up that now, thanks to Rock Band on the Wii, my sweet little nephews love that song, too. They can sing every word! They know all about Tommy and Gina. :)

Now it's your turn. Ready, set, go!

Feeling Down

Holidays do funny things to me. Let me tell you, I'm a sucker for seasonal things. Here in Texas we don't exactly have all four seasons outside, but every year I'm determined to celebrate the season inside my home. I just love holidays. Even if no one (besides my husband and myself) ever saw the decorations, I would still decorate!

That's why this post is hard for me to write.

Lately I've noticed that it's getting harder and harder to conjure up those same old feelings of joy for holidays. I think with each passing year, the emptiness in my heart and in my home become harder to ignore.

Certainly there is joy and happiness and love in my heart and in my home. My husband and I are very happy with our marriage and in our little family of two. But there is a huge, unfulfilled desire that neither of us can ignore. We want children. We want to be parents. There is a void there for us both. There is an empty place in both of our hearts and in our home where our children should be. The holidays remind me of this.

Last week was so hard for me. I couldn't keep my eyes dry for very long, and it seemed that I was surrounded by a flood of emotions. The truth is, sometimes I struggle. Sometimes I feel like I don't do anything that makes a difference or amounts to much outside of these four walls. Sure, as a homemaker I have lots of responsibilities at home. I keep the house clean and the laundry done, on top of many other daily tasks. This is probably true for many people out there, but sometimes I don't feel needed. I don't feel necessary.

Oh, I imagine that there are parents who have those feelings, too. And sure, you can call it a pity party if you want. I'm just keeping it real and keeping it honest.

Halloween was just the very beginning of the whole holiday season. I don't recall ever being this affected by it in years past. Although I'm not necessarily a huge fan of Halloween in particular, I felt a huge absence this time. It was pretty quiet here. We spent the weekend with friends who were visiting. Our doorbell was rung only twice by trick-or-treaters that night. My sister sent photos of my adorable nephews dressed up in their costumes (they were a very handsome duo of Luigi and Wolverine). Countless friends posted pictures on Facebook of their cute little marauders. And I felt sad. Even in the days leading up to it, I felt so empty and so burdened by our situation.

Last Friday we went to see my two very favorite Christian artists, Bebo Norman and Jeremy Camp, in concert. It was a fairly small crowd and it was a special treat for me. We had great seats and it was a great show. I was particularly touched by the words to a couple of familiar Jeremy Camp songs that I've heard over and over again:

I still believe in Your faithfulness
I still believe in Your truth
I still believe in Your holy word
Even when I don't see, I still believe

and

I will walk by faith
Even when I cannot see
Because this broken road
Prepares Your will for me

It truly was like a balm for my hurting heart, because I'll admit, right now I don't see. I cannot always see the big picture in this.

I know that the holidays are just getting started. I hope as the weeks pass and as my decorations change from autumn to winter, from Thanksgiving to Christmas, that we might begin to feel the excitement that usually comes with it. I hope that we'll focus on the many good things that have kept us happy and strong for all these years: our family, our friends, each other, and our hope and trust in our Lord.

Even when I don't see, I still believe.