Different

Ever since Christa's birthday, I have been thinking a lot about this time last year. It's been hard not to, and I think it's because these were the days we were celebrating our pregnancy with our Teeny-bear. We had shared our news with family and friends, via video, at Christa's party, and were happily celebrating the 4th of July and getting settled into our new town with one baby and another on the way.

Even though we were in the process of moving, I had strong feelings about having my first doctor's appointment with the same doctor who delivered Christa. I had a great pregnancy and delivery with her, and although I give God credit for that, my doctor was awesome! Plus, I hadn't had time to ask around about our new local doctors, so we scheduled an appointment in Augusta, thinking we could stop off on our way to the beach.

One year ago today, we donned Christa in her newly purchased "I'm the Big Sister" t-shirt, while Cline wore his "New Dad" polo. I took Christa to a Chick-fil-a breakfast, and held her on my knee while I gagged in the bathroom in much the same way I had during my early pregnancy days with her. We drove to the same hospital and walked into the same office that we had walked into so many times when we were expecting Christa. We checked in with the same receptionists. We waited in the same waiting room, and the same nurses called me back to get my blood pressure. We walked through the same walkway and waited again in the same secondary waiting area. I imagined having the same chatty conversation in my doctor's cozy office and had a page full of questions about how we might logistically work out a long-distance delivery. We had the same excited anticipation about hearing the baby's heartbeat for the first time.

The same ultrasound tech who did my later ultrasound with Christa called us back to the same ultrasound room. I changed into my paper drape and laid down on the same ultrasound table, noticing the same, annoying "no picture-taking policies." (Stupid malpractice lawsuits!)

The ultrasound started off the same. We looked at my uterus and saw the baby. Teeny-bear looked the same to me as Christa had at that point. But when the ultrasound tech turned the machine off without letting me hear or see the heartbeat, things started to change. I asked about the heartbeat, and she said she couldn't pick one up. At first, I was annoyed, thinking it was too early, and I'd have to worry all weekend over nothing. But as the seconds ticked away, I started to realize that I was on a very different table... in a very different room. I had a different conversation with Cline as I searched for some hope that my dates were wrong, even though I was certain they were correct. Cline gave me a different hug, and we cried different tears. A nurse let us stay in the ultrasound room until the doctor was ready to see us... not in his warm and cozy office, but a very different exam room.

We had a different conversation with Dr. Burns about what to do, and he confirmed our different instincts. My questions about long-distance deliveries were replaced with different questions about this unchartered territory. After the appointment was over, I called my mom in a different tone of voice, and we left on a different vacation, trying to figure out how to go back into a very different world.

I've pretty much chronicled our life since then - we've had our ups and downs, and I'm pleased to say it's been mostly up.

On my due date, we took some small gifts to the Labor and Delivery floor, to be given out to all the babies born that day. As we were awaiting our security clearance to get back to the nurse's station, a woman approached us, and asked us if we had a baby back there. We said no, and she went on to tell us that her granddaughter was behind the locked doors, sick and on a ventilator, and it was just killing her that she couldn't be with her. I gave her one of our gift bags, and told her we would pray for her granddaughter and their family. She said she felt like we were supposed to meet that day. Maybe we were. I hope her granddaughter, Emma Kate, is at home and healthy today.

One year later, life has gone on for us. We are settled in our new town, and even found a different doctor, close by, who we like and trust. We are excited to welcome a new and different daughter into the world in just a couple of months. But we still think about the baby we lost. And knowing that there is no biological way we could have had this baby without losing the other one is... well... different.

One day, we will get to have all of our children together. We very much look forward to that day. In the meantime, we love and enjoy the two precious daughters that God has entrusted us with. And we love and miss the baby He took with Him one year ago today.

Today

Dear Teeny-Bear,

I was supposed to meet you today. I was supposed to be too excited to sleep last night, or hurriedly packing a hospital bag while Cline called a grandmother to sit with Christa. I was supposed to be teaching Christa that you do not actually like to have your eyes poked, and it would not be a good idea for her to push you around in her doll stroller. I was supposed to be taking pictures of the two of you together and teaching Christa how to give her little sister sweet, but gentle kisses. I was supposed to be terrified of going to the bathroom and unable to climb stairs today. I was supposed to be dependent on prescription strength Motrin for the next week. I was supposed to drink my morning Coke with a fear that it might cost me a couple of hours of precious sleep later on. I was supposed to be deciding how much you did or didn't look like Christa.... or me... or your Daddy. I was supposed to be fanatically reviewing my books on newborn care and sending relatives to get last-minute necessities. I was supposed to be acutely frustrated that we do not have a Babies-R-Us nearby. I was supposed to be e-mailing friends and posting pictures of you on this blog. I was supposed to meet you today.

I am not doing any of the things that I was supposed to be doing today.

You, sweet baby, were supposed to be in heaven today. You were supposed to be held by arms that love you even more than I do. You were supposed to be listening to lullabies sweeter than anything I've ever heard. You were supposed to be in a place without any tears or pain or anything bad at all - a place where you won't be poked and prodded all day. You were supposed to be so captivated by all of the wonder around you that you don't even realize your mommy and daddy are missing. You were supposed to be praising and glorifying God in person today.

You, little one, are doing all of the things that you were supposed to be doing today.

So, I will cry a few tears today, and then maybe try to do some other things that I am supposed to be doing. While you are praising God up there, I will praise him as best as I can down here. That's one thing we can both do today. And one day, we will praise Him in person together. On that day, after He places you in my arms, maybe I will know the reason why things were supposed to be this way today.

I love you,
Mommy

All in All, A Good Day

Hello all! Well, we've made it through the day at the Dr.'s office. Things went surprisingly smoothly, seeing as how my Dr. and I made our plan after 5 p.m. on Friday afternoon, and Cline and I just sort of showed up first thing this morning. We got my labs drawn almost immediately, and had the sonogram done by 9 a.m. The sonographer greeted us with, "It says your Hcg level is a 3. Is that right?? We're really doing this ultrasound for a 3?? Are you sure the level's not 30??" We nodded our heads in agreement that logic says we should be able to ignore a 3, but there we were anyway. As soon as the screen pulled up, it was obvious that I would, in fact, be needing the D&C. We met with the Dr. shortly after the ultrasound, and I was in the OR by 2 p.m. Everyone was so nice, and Cline and I had complete confidence in them the whole day. The surgery wasn't long at all (less than an hour total), I got a good nap, and the Dr. said things went great with no complications. Praise God!
We're staying in Augusta tonight, just in case anything happens, but plan to head to Rome and get back to our normal routine tomorrow. I feel great (knock repeatedly on huge piece of wood), and ignored the advice to avoid greasy foods, opting for a large plate of pasta alfredo for dinner, so I'm hoping I don't live to regret that later tonight! I feel much, much better than I did on Friday, and am hoping that I will actually be cleared from this at my follow-up appointment next week.
Thanks for all your prayers and notes. Augusta friends, it looks like I'm going to miss you this time :( but I'd love to catch up next week when I come back, so call or e-mail me if you'll be around! Rosi, want to drive up from Orlando for a mini-reunion?? :)
I'll be in touch in the next few days!!

A Little Drama

Hello everyone! I hope you are all doing well. For us, it has been a rough week. Let me explain.
When I posted my last miscarriage update, I told you that I was basically done other than some "minor testing" to be done later. Well, "later" has arrived, and the "minor testing" has turned into 2 weeks of lab work and a trip to the Dr. on Monday for a sonogram, more labwork, and a possible D&C. Long story short, my HCG levels (the hormone that your body produces when you are pregnant) still haven't returned to zero, the ultimate goal. My level, as of today, is 3. I might have to have surgery for a 3. Does that seem a little crazy to anyone else, or is it just me?? (Just to give you some perspective, my level was 80,000 at my first lab draw 2 and a half months ago, so we've come a long way). At any rate, my doctor is worried that there might still be a small cluster of cells stuck in there somewhere, and it's time to get rid of them however we have to.

Sooooo, to Augusta we will go on Sunday night so that we can report first thing Monday morning. I never switched doctors thinking it wasn't the best idea to switch in the middle of a medical situation, and never dreamed we'd still be dealing with this now. Frankly, I am dreading the ultrasound. I was supposed to be finding out if my baby was a boy or a girl about now, not finding out if I need to have an outpatient procedure done or not. I'm not quite sure how I'm even going to walk into the room at this point, but maybe the adrenaline will kick in on Monday. Hopefully, my hormone levels will be down to zero by then and the ultrasound will be clear, but if that's not the case, we'll try to go ahead and get the D&C done that day.

If you wouldn't mind, please keep us in your prayers. I am sure everything is going to be fine. But I love babies, and want more children very much, so I'm feeling a little paranoid right now that there may be more complications to come. I always freak out over any little thing whenever this particular body system is concerned anyhow, and these new developments aren't helping matters. In retrospect, I should have had the D&C as soon as we confirmed that the levels were dropping. But hindsight is 20/20, and we made the best decision we could with the information we had at the time.

By the way, September 29 is Chili's "donate all profits to St. Jude" day, so mark your calendar for dinner if you live around here. As long as I'm feeling up to it, (and I'm planning to), we're going to support this cause and would love to get a local group together. More about that next week!

It Was the Best of Times; It Was the Worst of Times

Hello all! I want to tell you a story tonight that got me thinking a little bit. Have you ever had one of those moments that seems very small and insignificant, but when you think about it a little more, you see a valuable lesson in it? My high school English teacher called them "ah-ha moments." I had an "ah-ha moment" tonight, and I want to share it with you. Here it goes... true story.

About two years ago Cline and I joined the rest of the Jacksons at a great Cajun restaurant in Atlanta called Papadeaux. It's a very tasty restaurant, and a bit nicer than the ones we usually eat at. But the family was enjoying a rare day together, and that is where everyone wanted to go, so we splurged. I had been to this restaurant maybe once as a child, but hardly remembered it. The meal started off well. We laughed and talked as we do whenever we get together. I mentally argued with myself about whether or not to get sweet tea, which I very much wanted. However, Cline and I had been trying to get pregnant for several months at that time, and I had high hopes that this was the month. I didn't want to do ANYTHING that might jeapordize things and force me to wait a whole 28 more long, agonizing days for this dream to materialize. I ordered my sewage, tasteless nothing, water and excused myself to use the restroom while we waited for our food. As I prepared to answer nature's call, I quickly realized that this was not the month I would be getting that happy, positive pregnancy test (which I had become convinced that my body was physically incapable of producing). I was devastated, as I had been every month prior to that one, and Satan quickly started whispering things like you're never going to be a Mommy and you can pray and hope all you want to, but it's not going to work into my fragile, heart-broken mind. I composed myself, and returned to the table, trying with all of my might to pretend everything was alright. I immediately ordered and guzzled a large glass of sweet tea. Despite my efforts, the rest of the meal was pretty miserable, and I couldn't wait to get to the car so that I could cry and talk things out with Cline.

Fast forward two years. Tonight, we took Cline's brother to the airport. Since we were already in Atlanta, and it was close to dinnertime, we decided to treat ourselves to a nice meal that was not so easily accessible during normal evenings. We discussed several options, and decided on... that's right, Papadeaux. I had not been to this restaurant since that day two years ago. As we entered through the doors, I briefly remembered the not-so-great experience from before, but quickly turned my attention to the tasty food, not giving deeper matters another thought. Cline, Christa, and I enjoyed a delicious meal together, and I downed about 6 glasses of sweet tea without the slightest hesitation. As we were packing up to leave, two kind women at the table next to ours commented on how cute and well-behaved Christa was. We immediately credited our amazing parenting skills, our keen sense of toddler-fashion, pure luck and the Lord's blessing that we do, indeed, have such an enjoyable daughter. They gushed a little more, and as they proceeded to compliment her, my mind immediately compared that proud and joyous moment with the sad and frustrated one two years ago. I mentally thanked God for the wonderful blessing that is my child, and for a few moments, I sat in awe of God's perfect timing for our life. I remembered, as I have many times, that if I had been pregnant that month, or any of the other months I screamed and threw things because life didn't seem to be going my way, then I wouldn't have Christa today - precious, perfect, Christa.

Just over a month ago, our family took a miserable and depressing trip to Myrtle Beach after receiving some shocking and devastating news. A few of you have been nice enough to e-mail me and ask for an update, so here it is. I had the miscarriage the weekend before last. It was quite the unpleasant experience. In fact, as I laid on our bed writhing in pain, begging Cline for an epidural or a strong whack to the head, whichever could be delivered faster, I began to rethink our decision not to have the D&C. But, like all things, the pain subsided after an eternity, an era, a couple of hours. I still have to do some very minor testing in a few weeks to be absolutely certain that my body has returned to normal, but I've essentially been cleared medically. Emotionally, we are doing fine. There is a void in our family now, and a baby (girl, we guessed) will always be missing. But in that void is God's love and peace, and He is taking good care of us. We are enjoying the many gifts in our life, and looking forward to whatever good and perfect things are in store for us. And maybe, just maybe, not too many years from now, our family will return to Myrtle Beach with two precious, perfect blessings.

It Was Supposed to be a Happy Day

"Be still, and know that I am God." Psalm46:10

Hello everyone. We learned some terrible news yesterday; it does not appear that we will get to meet our new baby on this side of heaven. We went to our first doctor's appointment, fully anticipating the joy of hearing the heartbeat and finalizing our due date. However, the ultrasound did not show a heartbeat, and our doctor said that measurements and blood tests indicate that our baby stopped growing at around 5 weeks.

We are shocked and dumbfounded. For a change, I have not been worried at all about this pregnancy, and enjoyed every moment of it, excitedly telling everyone I knew. I'm glad that I did not spend what little time I had with my baby living in fear. But we are heartbroken right now, and spending time at the beach, regrouping as a family.

We were given 2 options - schedule a D&C or wait and let nature take it's course. While we have gone back and forth several times on what the right thing for us to do is, our plan right now is to have confirmatory blood testing and a sonogram on Monday, and see what happens from there. We are clinging to our faith, right now, a little confused about why God would bless us with such a sweet surprise, if it wasn't ours to keep. But we know that we serve a loving God, who wants good things for us even when bad things happen.

We also know that we serve a loving God who performs miracles, even in this day and age, and we welcome your prayers for this. We know it is possible, and would love nothing more than to be shocked and dumbfounded in a happy way on Monday. But we also believe our doctor when he says there is a 99% chance that we will not get to welcome our Teeny Bear into this world as we planned, and we are not clinging to much hope that a miracle is what is in God's plan for us right now.

We are grateful to have wonderful, supportive, friends and family, a much-trusted doctor who shares our values, and a loving God, whom we have handed this whole situation over to. Please pray for our family, as this is a difficult time for us as we seek clarity. As much as I love having clear answers, I don't think this situation is meant for me to understand. Luckily, I don't have to understand to believe that God loves our family and loves our little baby.

The best place for you to leave your thoughts for us is here in the comment section. If you don't have a Google account, simply click the small circle next to "anonymous" right under the box that you write your actual comment in. We have our cell phones with us, but have so far not been up to talking much. I'll update this site as I am able to, as the next few days and weeks unfold. Thank you for your prayers and support.

"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted, and saves those who are crushed in spirit." Psalm 34:18