Dancing With God: What I've Learned from Each of my Children

This past Saturday was our church's annual women's Christmas brunch. We were joined by ten women from our sister church in Dallas, Texas. Each year we invite someone to come and speak at this brunch, and this year we invited one of the women from our sister church to offer the message. She spoke from her personal journey. She shared stories, and she challenged us to dance with God. It was one of the most challenging and beautiful messages I've heard in a while. She spoke about dancing with God in all of life's circumstances, and I had to wonder, have I danced with God to the best of my ability over the past thirteen and a half months? This question got me thinking about what I've learned from both of my babies, and whether or not it's possible for the dance to be different depending on the point in the journey.

Dancing with God: My first pregnancy
My first pregnancy started out with much joy tempered by the discovery that we needed to say goodbye to our first cat, Anje (pronounced An-ya). Within the first week of my pregnancy, we also had the first of two major scares. I started spotting right at five weeks, and made my first visit to my doctor much earlier than we were expecting for an ultrasound. I continued to spot off and on through week eight. During week seven, I spent a day in the emergency room with a more major bleeding issue. I started off my pregnancy with Faith plagued by anxiety because of these events. I have to wonder when I look back now if some of my anxiety wasn't my body's way of letting me know that something was wrong. I think during these weeks the dance was a cautiously joyful dance. I was incredibly grateful for the gift of the child we were expecting.

I think the dance became increasingly joyful over the weeks. By the time we reached the last days of my pregnancy with Faith, I was wholeheartedly dancing. The dance faltered and stuttered when we found out that we'd lost our baby girl. It never stopped, but the tone of the dance completely changed. It slowed down and became a melancholy sway. It was the dance of one who has no choice but to fully lean on the One who is leading. Over the months, this was the dance that taught me about grief and loss.

Through this dance and the beautiful experience of knowing my daughter for even a few short months, I learned about myself. I learned about grief. I learned about what it means to be vulnerable. I learned lessons that have changed me as a ministering person. I learned that ministering to the hurting and grieving is about listening, but not just listening to what is said. It is about hearing what is not said, what the heart of the grieving person wordlessly needs.

 I learned about joy. I learned about the joy of new life, about doing your utmost to enjoy every moment of every life that blesses our world. I learned about gratitude, about finding gratitude no matter your circumstance. I learned so much from my daughter and the experience of losing her, but more than anything, I learned to know myself in unexpected ways. God used my daughter to show me what it means to rely on God fully, to show me that God has shaped me into a woman whose strength comes from the Spirit within her.

Dancing with God: My second pregnancy
My pregnancy with N was truly a roller coaster of emotions. Looking back, I know the end of my first pregnancy left me feeling like I was midway through an unfinished race. We wanted a child so much. There were less than three full months between the end of my pregnancy with Faith and my pregnancy with N. In so many ways, the grief was still very fresh when we found out we were again expecting. The first weeks were weeks of ecstatic dancing. There was so much joy and peace. I think I a part of me knew that this second pregnancy was different right from the start. Holding on to that feeling was more of a challenge.

As the months passed, the physical pressures of the pregnancy combined with the grieving process to slow the dance from its initial ecstatic pace. It became a slow and steady dance, moving forward day by day, never stopping the motion, sometimes moving more joyously, other times moving hesitantly.

My second pregnancy taught me even more about relying on God. It taught me about the power of prayer in ways I never expected. Those were months of learning to accept my own personal miracles, learning to trust in the good gifts of God.

Dancing with God: Motherhood
I've been a mother for over a year, but it is only within the last eight weeks that I fully entered motherhood. My miracle arrived early, and our journey together has been a joyous and challenging one. The dance during his arrival and our first few weeks together was one of learning to adjust. It was all about learning to accept that even though our path was not what I had planned it was still good.

Over the weeks since N's arrival the dance has become increasingly joyful. It is a dance that reflects the goodness of God. It is a dance that longs to welcome others to join in. Taking N to church each week, singing to him songs of God's love, telling him stories, reading to him from God's Word, these are all new parts of the dance.

Advent has begun, and we are in waiting once again. Last year, Advent was one of darkness for me. This year, Advent is all about the Light. The Light felt far away and distant last year. This year, the Light has grown and expanded within me. It is spilling out (seriously, it's spilling out in excessive decorating, wearing silly Christmas socks, listening to Pandora's Jazz Holiday station incessantly, and making a variety of Christmas projects!!). This year, the dance is growing more and more exuberant each day. The anticipation of welcoming the Christ child and the joy of the wait are things I haven't experienced in quite this way before.

If your Advent is one of darkness, may you feel the presence of God as you journey through the waiting. May you have patience with yourself and your darkness. May your dance continue even if it is just a slow and melancholy sway.

If your Advent is one of Light, may you shine brightly. May your Light give hope to those in darkness. May you hold in the Light those around you who journey through their darkest days. May you dance exuberantly even if people are watching.

Whether your Advent is one of darkness or Light, whether you are dancing with joy or moving to the beat of grief and sadness, whether you are marking off the days on the calendar in anticipation or as signs that you have survived another day, may we all feel the Presence of the Spirit journeying with us as we wait this Advent season.

One Year

In two days it will be one year since my first post on this blog. In many ways it feels like yesterday that we lost our baby girl, but in other ways it feels like a lifetime has passed. As I write this post, my son is sleeping on my chest. I'm not sure I could have imagined one year ago where I would be today. There are no words to describe my gratitude for the blessings that have come this past year. There are also no words to describe the tears and grief of this past year. My God is the God of both blessings and tears. My God has placed wonderful people in my life including my husband and my son and has used them to bless me with joy. My God has counted and saved my tears and has walked with me my through the darkness of grief and loss.

One year ago I posted the story of my blog's name. I had no idea how prophetic the song "No Matter What Goes Right" would be for this last year. M and I experienced what has undoubtedly been one of the most trying times we've encountered in the six years we've know each other. As the song says, "when couples fight their troubles it unites their hearts." Our hearts have been united through shared loss. But just as the song promises, our hearts have also been and continue to be united through shared joy. Both of our children have bonded us together in unique ways. "No Matter What Goes Right" has become a promise for me over the last months, a love song that rings true in my heart in many ways.

As much as I love my husband, the words "no matter what goes right" have also become my promise to myself, to my God, and now, to my son. I will hold the lessons I have learned in my grief dear to my heart. I will allow them to mold me into a better version of me. I will use them to minister to others who are experiencing loss. I will strive to live in gratitude in all situations but especially no matter what goes right.

I post the song again as a reminder to myself of where I've been, how far I've come, and that no matter what goes right, love will always surround me. Please excuse the quality of the video.

Grieving the loss of a plan

All through my pregnancy, M reminded me that pregnancy had caused me to lose my filter. I had (and maybe still have) a tendency to provide way too much information. I might be about to do that again, but I think these are things that need to be shared.

Yesterday, N and I made a trip back to my doctor. Between the c-section, lack of sleep, trouble breastfeeding, and general adjustment to life with baby, my emotional state has been completely out of wack.  I decided to get some help before things got any worse. I have officially been diagnosed with Postpartum Depression (PPD). Two pregnancies in less than a year and a half, the loss of a baby, and a family history of anxiety and depression, put me in a high risk category for PPD. I was warned by a number of doctors and nurses leading up to delivery, and we were watching closely to make sure I got help early if I needed it. I do.

In addition to getting help getting my emotions back on more positive footing, we have decided at the suggestion of my doctor and N's doctor to let go of breastfeeding. This has not been an easy decision. I fully expected to breastfeed N for at least the first full year, but it just isn't worth fighting him over it anymore. Neither one of us need the additional stress right now, and in order to be sure I that I am able to be the best mom possible, this is something I need to let go. I plan to continue pumping either as long as I am able to or until I'm ready to let that go as well, so N will continue to get some breast milk, but this was certainly not the plan from the start.

My doctor said yesterday that I need to allow myself time to grieve the loss of my plans. I've always been a planner. I like knowing that I have a plan for every situation. I will have entire conversations in my head so that I can be prepared for whatever comes up and have a plan for what I will say if the conversation goes this way or that way. I had a plan for welcoming N into the world, a plan for bringing him home, a plan for the first weeks of his life and beyond. I was not planning on having a c-section (but my doctor reminded me yesterday that I really did do everything I could to avoid the c-section). I was not planning on bottle feeding or having to supplement with formula. I was not planning on needing extra recovery time or fighting PPD. I have to allow myself time to grieve the loss of these plans in order to move on and embrace my new reality.

N is perfect. He is healthy and strong. He cries when he's hungry or needs to be changed, but he's quiet otherwise. He's a great baby, and I am blessed. But, I still need to allow myself time to adjust my expectations to my reality, to get emotionally healthy again, and I could use some prayers as I do.

He's Here!

He's here! Most of you (or more likely all of you) already know this and have been wondering how we're doing so here's an update!

1. This is Nikolas Johannes. He was born on 10/11/12 at 11:55 pm. He weighed 7 pounds 13 ounces and was 19 1/2 inches long. I seem to need to keep learning the hard lesson that not everything goes according to plan. We went to the doctor one week ago today and found that my blood pressure had risen considerably. My doctor recommended induction, so Thursday morning at 6 am we arrived at the hospital to start pitocen. Long story short, it took over 14 hours for me to be ready to push, and after 2 1/2 hours of pushing, it was clear that I was wearing out, so we ended up having a c-section.

2. Coming home from the hospital with a baby was everything I'd hoped it would be and more. He's a really good baby. He only cries when we're changing his diaper and when he's hungry.

3. We have been having feeding issues. At first, Nikolas seemed to be having feeding resistance issues. He'd start eating and latch on well only to push me away seconds later. We've been to see the lactation consultant at the hospital twice in two days. Last night, I realized after purchasing a new electric pump that my milk supply is not enough for him right now, so we're having to supplement with formula. Prayers for all of us would be appreciated. Mom's emotions are pretty raw after little sleep and major surgery. We really want to get this breastfeeding thing down, but it's been super frustrating and there have been many tears (mostly on my part!).

4. M heads back to work tomorrow for a really long day. He's got a teacher work day from 8 to 12 and parent/teacher conferences from 12 to 8. This will not be a good day for any of us. I'm pretty nervous about not having M here to talk me down when I get overly emotional, and I think it's going to be hard for him to be gone so long from both N and me.

5. I've realized that some of my raw emotions are stemming from the fact that Sunday will be the one year anniversary of Faith's birth. Spending time with N has been wonderful, but it's also reminded me how much I miss my baby girl. Sunday will be hard.

Another whine...

I am uncomfortable. I am tired and I am uncomfortable. I am quite sure I will be pregnant forever. This baby has decided he's never coming out. That is all.

37 Weeks

Today marks 37 weeks that Baby Graber has been growing and changing and getting ready to join our world. We have officially reached full term! Baby Graber will no longer be premature or preterm if he arrives at this point.

Yesterday's doctor's appointment went well. Baby Graber made his presence known during his heartbeat check by kicking the doctor! It also appears that he's dropped in the last week, and my doctor's years of experience tell her that means we have between one and two weeks left. She seemed fairly confident that we'd be back for our appointment next week, but there's a good chance the one after that will be canceled because Baby will be here! I'm very ready!

Today's projects include a few final preparations for Baby Graber. His many things have been stashed in his room waiting for him. Now it's time to find homes for them. I've also got a few sewing projects left to finish. Nothing major, fortunately, but things I want to complete before we bring Baby Graber home and I no longer want to spend my time on them for a while. We've also had a bag packed for the hospital for the last week or so, but today I want to go back through it and the list from the hospital of what to bring and double check that we've got everything we need. (Did you know they recommend bringing a small paper bag in case of hyperventilation. Not sure if it's for me or for M...)

All that's left now is to wait for labor to begin... (Everywhere I go people have started to be surprised to see me. "No baby yet, huh?")

So Many Thoughts... Post Three

If each of today's three posts had its own title the first would be called "That Time Again," the second would be called "Someday," and this last one would be called "Sometimes." Hopefully somewhere in one of the three you've found something worth reading!

Sometimes, as we get closer every day to welcoming Baby Graber, I start thinking about doing all the little things with him that I didn't get to do with Faith and I just want to cry. The tears are both happy and sad. They are tears for what I didn't get to do with my first baby, things I wanted to do, things I didn't know I wanted to do, things my heart still longs to do. They are tears of joy because I will get to do these things and more with my son.

Yesterday we were at the hospital to preregister for delivery. There are an abundance of things to sign, choices to make, things they need to tell you about hospital policy and security and what to expect when you take your baby home. I have been warned about "purple crying" and told that it's okay to make sure your baby is safe then walk away until you are calm enough to go back to him. I've realized that even being angry and annoyed and frustrated enough to need to walk away is something that I am looking forward to because it means he's here.

I am looking forward to changing stinky diapers and complaining about explosive messes and telling everyone who touches him to "wash your hands." I am looking forward midnight feedings and snuggling on the couch and being able to stare into each others eyes and knowing that we see one another. I'm already planning in my head what he'll wear to meet this person or that person, how we'll introduce him to his family, even how we'll introduce him to Simon and Lilly. Sometimes when I think about these things, good and bad, messy and exciting, I just want to cry both for what should have been and for what will be. And, in the midst of these tears is the never ending impatience for labor to begin, the longing for these last days or weeks to go by quickly, so we can take that first family picture and share this new little person with the world!