All In A Weekend

It's the Monday after one of those weekends that seems to encompass just about everything: highs and lows, storms and sunshine, and joy and sorrow.

Friday afternoon I wasn't expecting a storm, but the skies darkened and suddenly we were under a severe thunderstorm with lots of lightning and rain. I'm sure I noticed it a bit more because it hit just as we were leaving the house to go have Lily's picture taken at a photo studio. The storm blew through fairly quickly, though, and left us with much cooler temperatures (a blessing where I live, even in April!) and a near perfect forecast for the rest of the weekend.

We came up with the idea of spending our gorgeous Saturday at the downtown zoo. It would be Lily's first trip ever, and it was a perfect way to celebrate that our girl was turning 19 months old that same day. We called her aunt (my sister-in-law), who lives in town, and she was excited to meet us there for a fun morning. We arrived around 9:30 and just in time to watch the elephants eating breakfast and getting their morning baths. We saw lions, giraffes, bears, monkeys, and all sorts of animals, and Lily had a fantastic time running and playing as we wound our way through the zoo until just after noon. We had snacks right next door to the giraffes as they had their lunch, and Lily tried (and loved!) cotton candy for the first time. It was a perfect day and one we'll remember as a family for years to come.

Lily was fast asleep before we even left the parking lot. She had played hard and was exhausted, so I was glad she'd have nearly an hour to nap in the car as we drove home. She was still out when we decided to stop and pick up food as we got closer to home. Chuck went inside to order while I waited in the car with Lily. I pulled out my phone to check messages and facebook and such, when I saw some devastating news. A precious couple we know from the town where we used to live were involved in a serious car accident just hours earlier. He was in critical condition; she did not survive. I sat there stunned in the car. My poor husband had no idea what was going on when he came back to the car and found me sobbing. We made some calls to friends and family to see if we could find out more, and bits and pieces of information came in about the wreck.

I'm so sad for this dear family. What a beautiful person she was, and I was blessed to call her my friend. Chuck and I had gone to see them when we were last in town, at Christmas. We had a great visit and were so happy to introduce Lily to them for the first time. I'm thankful for that last time I saw her smiling face this side of heaven. They are in their sixties and have two grown sons and several young grandchildren. My heart aches for them right now, as I pray continually for God to comfort them.

We spent the rest of our Saturday in a bit of a fog, wondering why things like this happen and praying for the healing of our friend's body and his heart. We carried on with the necessary tasks -- getting Lily fed and changed, and starting on plans for supper. A few hours later I was cooking while Chuck took Lily in the back yard to play. They came in, we ate, and started getting ready for bed. Before her bath, Chuck mentioned that a mosquito had bitten Lily on the side of her face, next to her eye. Mosquitoes are rampant here, and of course she's been bitten before despite our best efforts to keep them away. The last bite she had recently near her elbow, though, made her arm swell up quite a bit. I hoped she wouldn't have the same reaction this time... but by morning it was clear that she would. Her eye was extremely puffy, and by the end of the day it was swollen completely shut. We'd called her pediatrician's office and talked to the nurse, who told us the correct dosage of Benadryl to give her. After a few hours the swelling hadn't gone down so we took her to the weekend clinic near our house. The doctor there examined the eye itself and said it did not look red and she had no fever. We felt better about it and were given medicine to make sure it doesn't get infected. She's still getting Benadryl, too. I had hoped that it would look much better when I got her out of bed this morning but the eye was still swollen shut. I know she's fine, but it sure looks pitiful! Poor baby girl.

It was one of those weekends, full of the good, the bad, and the unimaginable. Losing a friend so suddenly certainly puts everything into perspective and shifts your focus to the things that really matter. I hugged my family a few extra times this weekend, thanking God for each minute that I have with them.

Brief pregnancy update: I'm 8w1d today, and as far as I know things are okay. Hoping for a good report at the next ultrasound on Thursday.
Thanks, friends, for the supportive comments on my last post. I'm glad you guys understand that, even after you have a baby, life is full of ups and downs. I'll keep writing about them here. And I'll always thank God and give Him the glory for the blessings in my life, and keep praising Him through the storms as well.

Consultation and Jumbled Thoughts

My mind is racing today and I'm finding it difficult to rest right now even though Lily is napping. I thought it would be best to just write it all out here and hopefully feel some relief.

Yesterday was my first trip to MD Anderson as a patient. I've been to the big, famous cancer hospital twice before with two different friends who were receiving treatment for breast cancer, but this was my first time to go for me. I can say from experience that, every time you go there, it's a memorable and a sobering experience.

I want to start by saying this: I know that I'm going to be okay. I don't wish to sound remotely melodramatic about this melanoma diagnosis. I know that, while it is a very serious and potentially fatal disease, I'm fortunate that mine was found early and can be treated successfully with surgery. I have friends and family members who have fought different types of cancer -- some who have survived and some who have not. Knowing that my chances of even undergoing any type of chemotherapy or radiation in this case are between slim and none, I would never compare this experience of mine to any of those life-threatening ones.

It is a scary thing, however, to face cancer of any kind growing in or on your body. And scarier still, for me, is the fact that I'm already in the riskier stages of pregnancy. I was reassured yesterday by no fewer than three doctors that they will take the utmost care of me and my baby, and I believe that they will do just that. I know that, even without the skin cancer diagnosis, I would be feeling just as nervous about simply being 7.5 weeks pregnant right now.

I didn't get as many questions answered yesterday as I'd hoped, because for some reason my pathology slides had not arrived. This was disappointing because the doctor wasn't able to review them and decide on exactly what my treatment will be and when. I do know that I'll be having surgery, and my doctor was pretty sure that he wants to wait until I'm in my second trimester to do it. He said that, especially considering my history with first trimester miscarriage, he wants to go the safest route. That means it will probably be at least 6 more weeks. I hate to have to wait, but obviously I trust his opinion (he is the best melanoma surgeon in the country, after all!) and I'm willing to do whatever is best for the health of the baby. So, at the least, I'll have the skin around the area of the mole removed to make sure they get all of the cancer. At the most, I'll have that surgery plus a procedure to test the lymph nodes around the site. We don't know if that part will be necessary until he can review the slides, so I'm waiting to hear back from them on that and to get the date scheduled. And I met with more than one doctor who reassured me that there will be someone from maternal fetal medicine who will monitor the baby before and after the surgery and make sure everything is okay.

I know that I'm in good hands and will receive excellent care. But I'm being perfectly honest with you when I tell you that I'm stressed. Really stressed. It's unnerving, to say the least, to spend the day talking to doctors about cancer and surgery and pregnancy all at once. It felt like an out-of-body experience when I signed a consent form to participate in a research study about cancer and pregnancy. It was one of those I-can't-believe-I'm-doing-this kinds of feelings. All the while, though, I couldn't help but think of people (a few I know and so many that I don't) who have sat in rooms like those and heard much, much scarier things. Several years ago I had a dear friend who learned toward the end of her pregnancy with her third child that she was facing leukemia. I still think about her all the time, and how brave she was and what her struggle must have felt like as she fought for her life with three young children at home. That sweet friend is in heaven now but she is often in my thoughts.

I'm grateful that that isn't the road I'm on right now. And although it's so hard to imagine, I know that my God would see me through a trial such as that one just as He did my friend, who took the time to call and encourage me about recurrent miscarriage even as she fought leukemia. Actually, I feel very very weak when I think about people as strong as she was.

Even though it feels scary, I know that this is going to be okay. I'm not saying that I know for sure that everything will go exactly the way I want it to and be perfect. I don't know that. But I know that, whatever happens, the Lord will take care of me. Perhaps you don't believe the same way that I do, but I have complete faith and trust in my God. I've been through miscarriage before and I know that if it happens again He will see me through. I've been through surgery before, too, and I know I won't be alone when it happens again.

Although I feel uncertain and shaky right now, I'm keeping my eyes on Him because it's all I know to do. The words to this Bebo Norman song have been playing in my head and comforting me today. Thought I'd leave you with the chorus:

I will lift my eyes to the Maker
Of the mountains I can't climb
I will lift my eyes to the Calmer
Of the oceans raging wild
I will lift my eyes to the Healer
Of the hurt I hold inside
I will lift my eyes, lift my eyes to You

Heartbeat

For two weeks I've been telling myself that, by tonight, we would be either very happy or very sad. At today's ultrasound we would hear either good news or bad.

Today, it's good!

We were able to see a very tiny baby with a healthy heartbeat of 123.

It was a huge relief for today! I have to take this one day at a time and enjoy each and every victory, so in that regard we are very happy and relieved. Because of my experiences having miscarried at 9 weeks and 10 weeks and 11 weeks, I know that I won't fully take a deep breath until we are well into the second trimester. That's not pessimism speaking, friends. It's my life and it's how I approach things now, but it doesn't mean that I don't have faith and hope that this baby will survive! I'm counting on that and praying with all my heart that we will keep getting more good news, two weeks at a time.

At my first appointment, I explained to my doctor that my cycles had been a bit long for the past few months. Already he suspected that I ovulated late, so with today's ultrasound and the one from two weeks ago, he adjusted the dates with that in mind and said that everything looked right on schedule. I do have to readjust the dates here, though, and I sure hate to have to back them up a little. Today I'm officially 6w4d, so that will be 7 weeks on Sunday. And my new due date is December 2.

I'll sleep well tonight knowing that this first big step is behind us. We're anticipating the next ultrasound on April 26. I have the consultation with the melanoma surgeon coming up on Tuesday, so I'm eager to get that done and find out when the surgery will take place.

Things are crawling along and I can't help but wish that I could fast forward through the rest of this month (and maybe the next one too?) to arrive at a place that is a little more stable and peaceful. But we're hanging in there... one day and one step at a time.

Today, there is life to celebrate. There is a tiny little heart beating away. And that makes my heart very happy.

The "M" Word

Thank you for all of the sweet and supportive comments, friends. I'm doing well. So far so good, although I can't say I don't spend some time thinking about the "m" word -- miscarriage.

Right now I'm 6 weeks, 2 days. I know it's true for any pregnancy, but these next 5-6 weeks will be critical. I can't help but anticipate the next ultrasound appointment next Thursday. When I was pregnant with Lily, my second ultrasound was at 6w5d, and we saw and heard that wonderful little heartbeat that began to put our minds at ease. I'll be three days further along with this baby at the time of the ultrasound, so I'm hoping and praying that it will be good news. I'm desperate to see that heart beating. Thankfully my appointment is early that morning, so I won't have to wait all day to find out if it's good news or bad.

With a history like mine, I can't help but think about miscarriage sometimes. I am, however, feeling hopeful and find myself making plans and daydreaming about a family of four. At this point, though, all I can do is hope and pray. And wait.

In the meantime, I got some other news this week about another unpleasant "m" word.

Let's back up to two weeks ago, March 23, two days before I got the positive pregnancy test. I had my annual checkup with my dermatologist that day. It had been a little over a year since I'd seen her last because of being busier in general with a toddler. Last time I was in her office, I was 7 or 8 months pregnant. (Imagine trying to fit all of that into a paper gown!) My husband and I have been getting these checkups every year for the past 10 years because we are both fair-skinned and have several moles that we like to keep an eye on. Hubby has a family history of skin cancer, from both his mother and grandmother, and our routine visits paid off about 5 years ago when our doctor found an early melanoma on his back and was able to remove it. Since then we've been even more careful to keep our checkups up to date.

At my appointment two weeks ago, the doc decided to biopsy a mole on my arm that had grown quite a bit since my last visit a year and a half ago. In the past 10 years I have had three previous biopsies: from my arm, my back, and the top of my head. All have come back negative for skin cancer, until now. I got a call this week to come in and "discuss" my pathology report, and I had a sinking feeling that all was not fine. So, I heard that other "m" word, melanoma, on Wednesday.

The two good things about this are that we caught it early, and that I happen to live near a city with an excellent cancer hospital. I have an appointment for a consultation on April 17 with the melanoma surgeon there, and then we'll schedule a date to have this nasty thing removed. I'm ready to get it over with, just for peace of mind. There's never a good time to learn that you have cancer growing on your skin, but it's particularly unnerving for me to think about it at all while there's a baby growing -- hopefully -- in my body.

I know it's all going to be okay; it has just been a lot for me to deal with all at once. The early weeks of pregnancy generally provide just about all the stress I can handle! It's been a tough week for me, but I'm holding out hope that the next few weeks will hold signs of a healthy, growing baby and a quick resolution of this melanoma on my arm.

Again, thanks for your words of encouragement and thanks for your continued prayers for us and for baby.

I Don't Know Why

Sometimes I find myself wondering about why things have gone the way they have on my fertility journey. Not that it's necessarily important for me to know all of the "whys" and such, but I can't help but wonder, you know?

I don't know why the years that I thought would be my young, child-bearing years (namely, my twenties) were fraught with so much difficulty. I never imagined that almost that entire decade of my life would be spent searching for answers and wondering why I couldn't carry a baby full-term. I don't know why, but my faith, my ability to hope, and my resolve were tested in ways that I'll never forget. I saw six positive pregnancy tests during those years but never gave birth to a living baby. I still have a lot of scars from that time in my life, both physical and emotional.

I don't know why, during that time, we had a few doctors who gave up on us. One fertility specialist shook her head in disbelief when an ultrasound revealed that our baby had died in the womb at 9 weeks. It was our fourth pregnancy and it had been going well. She said she didn't know how to help us anymore. Another doctor, my ob/gyn at the time, told me (over the phone, no less) that she didn't think I would ever have a biological child.

I was reading a novel recently where one of the characters was talking about an aunt and uncle who had never had children. She described them as having a closeness that only barren couples seem to have. I don't know why, but we were that couple. My husband became my best friend during those years, and the trial of recurrent pregnancy loss brought us together in a way that I don't think anything else could have. For all we knew, we were facing a future together, just the two of us, that may not ever include children. I think we both deeply felt that somehow, someday we would become parents, but there were many years of uncertainty. I do feel fortunate now, looking back, that we had 12 years of marriage together before our daughter arrived. During those years we grew and changed and matured in ways that I hope make us better parents than we might have been a decade ago.

After I turned 30, we faced three years of unexplained infertility. Sure, I was apprehensive about getting pregnant again after all that my twenties had held, but we had begun to hope again and were forced to wait. And I don't know why, after the waiting was over, our seventh pregnancy made it to the second trimester and then the third, and resulted in the birth of our precious daughter. The Lord changed my story in 2010, when I was 33 years old. I don't know why that was the right time, but I'm so thankful that it happened.

And now we are in the early stages of pregnancy number eight. I struggled with whether or not to write about it here before reminding myself that that's what this blog is for. It's really the only place I feel most comfortable sharing my deepest fears and my unbridled hopes. This is always, always a scary time for me. I'm asking you to walk with me again, if you're willing. Will you wait with me and pray for me? Will you pray with me that this baby will survive and hope with me that, instead of being our seventh in heaven, this will be our second baby on earth?

The details are that I got a positive pregnancy test on Sunday, March 25. I went in for blood work the following Tuesday, March 27. My beta level was 1384, so we had our first ultrasound scheduled for Thursday, March 29. We were able to see a gestational sac and it measured normally for 5 weeks, 1 day. My estimated due date is November 27, 2012. We will have another ultrasound in two weeks, on April 12. I'm hoping with all my heart that we will see a tiny baby with a healthy heartbeat.

We are a bit surprised, but very happy and very nervous. The fact that our most recent pregnancy was successful gives us a boost of confidence, but we know that each pregnancy is unique and different. We know there are no guarantees. We are not remotely ready to make any announcements, so please if you know me in real life or are my facebook friend, please keep this to yourself and don't share it with anyone else until we are comfortable enough to make it more public. Thanks for being understanding and for choosing to walk beside us again. I hope you know how much it means to us to have your support and prayers!

I don't know why we've been given another chance at this, but (deep breath)... here we are.

18 Months

I know I've been off the radar lately when it comes to blogging. Sure, things have been busy as always, but I think I've been away mainly because I've been spending most of my free time reading books. Lots and lots of them! On top of that, we've had nice springtime weather and I have a little girl who has rediscovered how much fun it is to play outside. And so, I haven't found much time for writing or, sadly, reading blogs this month, but I'm going to try to ease back into it slowly but surely.

Since it's been a while, I thought I'd write a (relatively) quick update on Lily since she hit another milestone this month -- turning 18 months old on March 21. Life has been good lately, and I'm realizing what a fun stage we've moved into with our growing toddler. She loves to run and play, especially outdoors, and is such a sweet, joyful girl! It makes me very happy that my girl still loves books. Each and every day we read dozens and dozens of books. She never seems to get tired of it and of course I love holding her in my lap and reading stories. As much fun as we have together during the day, I'm pretty positive that the highlight of Lily's day is around 4:15 PM -- when her daddy gets home. My oh my, you have never seen a happier child in your life!

We just had Lily's 18-month checkup with her pediatrician yesterday, so here are her "stats:" She weighs almost 26 pounds (75th percentile) and is 33 inches tall (90th percentile). Lily recently cut her third molar, which was tooth #11, so her smiles now show a mouth full of pearly whites. She is a healthy, growing girl who loves to eat her fruit and veggies, which makes me so very proud. I was afraid that as Lily got older she might become more and more picky with food, but she is still a wonderful little eater.

Sleep had been a struggle for us for a terribly long time. It seems that we had a pretty good sleeper until she turned 7 or 8 months or so, and then we began to have trouble. Night time routines were generally pretty smooth but Lily would wake up at least two or three times a night and want to be rocked back to sleep or simply held. Nap times were a challenge, too, because she never wanted to be put down. We knew that we needed to make a change, so we began working with Lily a few weeks ago to try to get her to fall asleep (and stay asleep) in her bed. I never dreamed it would have been so hard for me to give up rocking my baby, but it was! I found it much harder than giving up nursing. I knew it was for the best, though, and I'm so happy with where we are now. It may have taken 18 months, but we now have a girl who walks to her room ready to get in her bed after bath, stories, prayers, and cuddles. We put her to bed around 8 PM and we don't hear a peep until around 8 AM. Finally, we have a much happier, well-rested household!

Lily has been trying to say lots of new words lately (at least making an attempt), but the ones we hear most often are: Mama, Dada, hi, uh-oh, oh wow!, oh yeah!, up, all done, all better, banana, night-night. She also knows several animal sounds, but her favorites are bow wow, meow, and moo. Lily still signs "more," "all done," "eat," and "please," and she shakes her finger when I tell her "no, no, no." She occasionally says a few extended family members' names, too, if we've been around them for a weekend or so. Sometimes I worry that there hasn't been a really big language explosion yet, but I know she's doing just fine and is steadily learning new words. It certainly amazes me how much she understands lately.

One of my favorite things to watch her do is hand motions -- to songs like the Itsy-Bitsy Spider or Zacchaeus, or some motions that we've made up to go along with a few of her books. It's too cute, and it's lots of fun to watch her learn.

That's life with our silly, chunky, sweet 18 month old. What a precious and fun age! I'm enjoying it immensely and I'm still so grateful to be her mommy.

Treasures

I think it's pretty safe to say that when you're going through infertility it's hard to find the bright spots most days. Life still has its joys, of course, but I mean it's difficult sometimes to recognize any good that could possibly come out of a trial when you're still so deeply submerged in it. I know that, personally, I spent day after day and year after year trudging along with my shoulders hunched and head down, bracing myself for another disappointment and just trying to make it one day at a time. It was hard to keep picking myself up after another loss... and another... and another. It felt (and still feels) like a burden, a struggle, and an uphill climb.

Thankfully, in the midst of all that, my husband and I worked to make some happy memories. We wanted to someday look back on our waiting years and see that there was still joy to be found -- but it took a few years for us to get there and actually put it into practice. That doesn't mean there weren't still a lot of hard days. It just meant that we tried to make the best of it. We spent lots of time with our families, we spoiled our nephews, we tried to be more spontaneous and do more fun things together, and we traveled. We went to Vermont, New Hampshire, Maine, San Francisco, Florida, Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island, Washington, D.C., and New York City. We saved our money for vacations and seized every opportunity to turn work trips into new adventures. We used money we'd been saving for baby furniture to buy a new camera and I documented our new memories in scrapbooks. And now, years later, while I don't view my battle with infertility as over and done (although I pray it is), I can look back on portions of that time fondly. Those memories are some of the treasures that have come out of that trial.

That's what this post is about. Treasures. And by far the most amazing treasures that I've found over the past decade have been people. Our family members and some of our oldest and dearest friends stuck by us during that time and prayed their hearts out for us. That's a treasure. It means more to me than I could ever express. Sometimes people I didn't even know that well sent a card or told me how they were touched by our situation and our faith. That always encouraged me to keep going, and it helped me to learn to be more open about sharing our struggle because I knew that others were hurting too.

Suddenly there were lots of new people in my life who had also been through miscarriage or infertility. There were others who understood all the devastation and disappointment, the guilt and the grief that we'd been going through. All at once I could use this blog to sort out my emotions and fears, and read about other people who were facing similar circumstances. And it all came at a time when I needed it the most. That was a treasure.

Soon I began to feel such a kinship with my blog friends. Over the years it has worked out (not coincidentally, I believe) for me to meet a few of them in person. It has been one of my favorite things about blogging and one of the biggest and best treasures to come from this trial. Even now that I don't blog as much as I used to, I've been able to keep up with several friends and get to know them a little bit better on pretty much a day-to-day basis through facebook and email. Oh, how I wish I could meet all of them in real life!

What really amazes me now is to be able to see all of our paths in hindsight. None of our experiences were exactly the same. Some were more similar than others, but all of them were about longing and loss in one way or another. I always felt an extra special bond with those who shared not only my fight but also my faith. It's just one of those common denominators that often makes an instant connection.

My first in-real-life blog friend experience was in February of 2009 when I met Tammy. (I originally wrote about it here.) I didn't really "know" Tammy that well when it worked out for us to meet, but we didn't want to pass up the opportunity and I'm so glad we didn't. Our friendship has blossomed ever since that day. Thinking back to where we both were in 2009 and all that has happened since is pretty incredible. Tammy and her husband are such a precious couple, and it was a joy to watch as they brought home their beautiful daughter, Hannah, at Christmas just a couple of months ago! I am still over-the-moon excited for them.

Just a few months later, in May 2009, I found myself on vacation with my whole family in a cozy and beautiful cabin in Tennessee. While we were planning the trip, I realized that we wouldn't be very far away from a dear blog friend in North Carolina, Beth. It was settled: we were going to set up a meeting! (Read more about our meeting here.) Beth and I had been communicating frequently through email ever since I'd first discovered her blog the previous year. I felt an instant connection with her and we'd formed a fast friendship. She and I shared so many griefs and fears together, and amazingly, we've celebrated with these dear friends as they've welcomed not one, not two, but THREE gorgeous boys into their family since then! It still gives me goosebumps just thinking about it.

Fast forward to just a little over a year later, in July 2010. I had discovered a while before that one of my sweet blog friends lived not too far from my hometown in Louisiana. I knew then that I was destined to meet Crystal during one of my trips back home, and I was so touched that our first meeting happened at my baby shower. (I wrote more about it here.) We were expecting Lily in September, and it was very sweet to share that time together as Crystal was also expecting her miracle baby boy that December. Our meeting is a very special memory of an amazing, almost ethereal time for me -- for us both, I'm sure, as we found ourselves in the middle of our long-awaited and much prayed for healthy pregnancies. It has been a special treat to be able to visit with Crystal and her adorable son twice more since then, at Christmas of 2010 when our babies were tiny and again last Christmas as they toddled around and played together. This friendship has been such a sweet gift!

That brings me to 2012, and the addition of a fourth friend to this special list of treasures. At the end of last month on our way back from visiting family in Oklahoma, we were able to stop by the home of my blog friend, Jessica. Our trip would take us within just a few miles of their house, not far from the interstate, and it was the perfect opportunity for our families to meet. Jessica and I had an amazing moment not long after she found my blog when we realized that we'd attended the same college. We never knew each other there, but before long we also made the connection that she and my husband had both grown up right there in that small college town and had -- brace yourselves -- graduated from high school together! Oh, I just love the way God works things out. We had a wonderful visit with Jessica and her husband, and we were thrilled to be able to meet their precious new miracle girl, just 7 weeks old. It was the kind of meeting where everything just clicked and it was as natural and easy as being with old friends. We are so thankful that we got to meet these friends face-to-face after sharing in the struggle, and it touched my heart to watch our daughter play in their daughter's room. What a blessing it was!


To each and every one of the special friends we've "met" along the way, I hope you know what a treasure YOU are.