My miracle turned 4.

As a lot of you know, Tatum is my miracle baby. I lost 2 babies before her, thinking that I was never going to be able to have another child. BUT fortunately for me and for this world, God had other plans. And now, the way I see it, as sad as it may sound, had I NOT lost those babies, I wouldn't have the sweet, dimple-faced, emotional, loving little girl that I have now.

It is so hard to believe that she's no longer the "Baby Tatum" Spencer so sweetly called her when she was teensy. She's tall for her age and every time she asks me to straighten her hair, it makes me a little sad inside because I can see a glimmer of the teenager she's going to be in what will seem like no time at all. But despite the sadness that she's no longer my little baby girl and she is inevitably growing up, I am so very proud of her. You definitely can't make her do anything she doesn't want to do until she is absolutely ready, which has been evident since she was a tot and didn't walk til 17 months old-when she knew she could do it without falling... But just the other day, after an hour of sitting at the McDonald's play structure, she finally, in her own time, went and played with the other kids. I was so proud. That's something she never would've done, even a few short months ago.

She and Lucy recently moved into one room together and I was curious to see how everything would work out and I am pleased to say that Tatum is such a sweet little mama to her little sister. When Lucy cries, she calms her down, when she loses her pacifier she brings it to her. I love her to death and am so excited to see what God has in store for her as she maneuver's through this next year and the years ahead.

God is good.

It's been a long three weeks but our prayers have been answered.

3 weeks ago, after our mid pregnancy ultrasound, we received news that our baby boy had choroid plexus cysts on his brain. The doc scheduled us to be seen with the perinatologist from OHSU to do a more detailed level 2 ultrasound.

I was terrified. Worst case scenario if they found any other markers: our baby had Trisomy 18 - a chromosomal defect where there are 3 number 18 chromosomes instead of two... Not compatible with life and would most likely die in utero or soon after birth.

A bit scary, no? Words cannot explain the fear I felt. I turned to God. I prayed. I let Him have this little boy knowing that He would take care of my little man. I can't say there weren't nights when I cried myself to sleep begging God for the health of my unborn son.

But here I am with proof in my belly that prayer works. We had our ultrasound today and the cysts are completely gone and our baby is absolutely healthy and NORMAL... Exactly what we wanted. Thank you Jesus. And thank you friends and family that prayed on our behalf.

A tough one to swallow...

I don't even know where to begin with this post. In fact, I've debated, more than once, to not even write it. On more than a few occasions I have sat at my computer ready to write only to be driven away by fear. And now my fear is that I may have not completely dealt with what has happened. So here I am, opening my heart up about something so very private in hopes that someone will know of his or her existence. Because that IS a huge fear of mine, that this baby will go unnoticed.

Most of you know by now that I am pregnant! I am 18 weeks tomorrow and we find out the gender next Friday. I am so very excited to see what this baby will be and if we will be an even team or a house full of estrogen!

That same "most" also don't know the journey I've gone through with this pregnancy. It began on December 15th, 2011, when I saw that 2nd line. Tony and I knew that we wanted one more baby and we figured why not sooner rather than later? So as I sat there for those 3 minutes that seemed like 3 hours, I prayed. I poured my heart out to the only one that was listening, God. I wanted another child and I knew eventually he would give me one, so if I wasn't pregnant this time, I'd be okay. But I REALLY was ready for that baby.

He heard me.

A couple of weeks later, I was just DYING to get to my first doctor's appointment because I knew that it meant an ultrasound and I could see that wee bebe on the screen for the first time. It never gets old. It never gets less exciting. I am always nervous. Our appointment wasn't for another week but I made up some excuse about thinking I " might have an infection..." so they squeezed me in. After finding out there was no infection, duh... I asked if there was any way that we could just take a peek to make sure I wasn't crazy and that I was indeed pregnant... Seeing as they have a roaming ultrasound machine, the doctor obliged.

What I saw on that screen came as a complete and utter shock. TWINS. How could this have happened! They don't run in my family, the don't run in Tony's family. What? Are you serious? Feelings of complete terror mixed with overjoyed excitement literally made my body shake. I could not wait to get home and tell Tony!

Much to my surprise, he was nothing but ecstatic! Not even a worried look. That guy's like a rock. My nervousness quickly turned to excitement. We could do this! Sure going from 3 kids to 5 wasn't in our plans, but it seemed to be in God's. And there's one thing that Tony said that I still can't get out of my head... When I had lost my first baby after having Spencer, the ultrasound tech told me that not only was my uterus tilted (which made it harder to conceive) but that it hadn't fully fused together when I was in my mother's womb and the result was a heart shaped uterus... So back to present day, Tony turned to me and said, "maybe that's why God gave you a heart shaped uterus, one side for each baby."

We started researching what to expect with twin pregnancies, carseats and everything in between.

At our next appointment we waited in anticipation to see those 2 sweet babies. But where the second one was supposed to be there was just an empty sac.

"I'm sorry, but that baby didn't seem to continue to develop."

I can still feel my heart sinking to my stomach and the lump in the my throat restricting my ability to breathe.

I remember how I felt when I had my previous miscarriages. The loss, the pain, the emotional turmoil, wondering how this could happen... This time was... different. I was still pregnant. There was still a little healthy baby growing inside me that needed me. How could I get past the grief and move on to the happiness? I still don't know how to answer that.

And then there's the comments meant to cheer you up but do the exact opposite... "You wouldn't want twins anyway. They're so hard." But that's what I had. And I would have managed. I was already in love with BOTH of those babies.

"God only gives you what you can handle." Are you saying I couldn't handle having twins? Because I could have. I would have. I would have loved those babies. I did love those babies.

Maybe that baby is just hiding. At the next ultrasound we'll see them both! That happens! "Please God... I CAN handle it. I CAN do this. Please. But Tony said that's why my uterus is shaped like a heart. Why is this happening again? I'm healthy..." I pleaded with God.

Every time I hear about someone having twins, my heart beats faster, I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes. Every time someone asks, "you're so big, are you sure you're not having twins?" I bite my tongue. I try not to lash out. To scream "YES, yes I was having twins. But now I'm not. Thanks for the reminder."

I like to think that when this baby is born that all these feelings of hurt, pain, anger and frustration will be washed away. When I had Tatum, after losing 2 babies, the joy that I felt was indescribable. I had finally gotten the blessing that I so longed and prayed for... my sweet perfect baby. I pray each day that this is how I'll feel. That I will be so excited and overjoyed for the blessing that is this baby. But my deepest fear is that I will feel something entirely different... disappointment that there should have been another baby. That there should be 2. That if or when my child comes to me and says, "Mom, I wish I were a twin," that I don't break down and completely lose it.

My heart is broken and I pray that this baby will mend it.

A bittersweet anniversary.

A year ago, yesterday, my life took a turn for the worse. Our family began on what I would consider the scariest time in my life. It was a Wednesday and Lucy was sick. 

Not only was my baby girl sick, but she hadn't eaten in 2 days. She was only 7 months old and had no interest in solid foods so I was at a loss of what to do. I called the nurse and they had me take her in to see the doc on call. I had Spencer and Tatum with me and I had promised them (both of which were sick, Spencer had pneumonia and Tatum had the awful cold that started it all) an ice cream cone if they were good at the doctor's. 

So we sat there while they checked Lu over, checked her oxygen levels, and gave her a breathing treatment. The kids were getting ance and I was getting zero answers. Finally, the doctor came back in.  

You need to take her to the hospital and have her admitted so we can get a handle on this.

One of the worst phrases a mother can hear. 

With all 3 in tow, we headed to the hospital and began on a 10 day journey of ups and downs, prayers, nurses saying that they couldn't do anything more for her and she was getting worse... Moments that nightmares are made of. 

After 5 days in the Salem hospital with empty promises from doctors that were never fulfilled, we were sent to Doernbechers Children's Hospital. 

 

After 7 days without eating, they gave Lu a feeding tube. And instead of treating her with more steroids and medications that were doing more harm than good, they treated her with oxygen. After a mere 5 day stay, she was back to eating and ready to go home.

 

Looking back, there were so many middle of the night scares when we thought she might just give up and stop breathing. The nurses told me most babies would have given up by then. But knowing who she is now, the hardheaded, strongwilled, feisty little girl that she is... God made her that way for a reason. He knew the struggle she would have to go through and created her to endure it. And I am so grateful to Him- for making her so strong and for helping her and us through that terrible time in our lives.

For the whole story, head to my archives and read all about her journey...

My Bucket dilemma.

I have a bit of a dilemma and I'm asking for advice... 

My sweet little boy, Spencer, came up to Tony & I today and asked if he could be baptized. I was a little more than taken aback by his request. He's 6 years old. SIX YEARS OLD. How can a six year old boy even begin to  understand the magnitude of this request? I suppose I shouldn't be this surprised. It was last year at this time that he asked Jesus to come live in his heart. This little boy is wise beyond his years and has a heart the size of Texas.

"Do you know what it means to be baptized?"

That I believe that Jesus died for me and He loves me.  

"Why do you want to be baptized?"

So that all of my sins are washed away.

"Did you know that your sins were washed away when you first asked Jesus to live in your heart?"

They were!?

"Yep... Do you still want to get baptized?"

Yes.

"Why?"

Because I want to live the way Jesus wants me to and I want everyone to know I love Him.

So here I am with this problem. I want to grant him his request, but is he old enough? Does he fully understand what he's asking? Am I holding him back by saying no? Am I forcing him into something he may not fully "get" if I say yes? I would love ANY and all feedback on this one... I don't want to break his little heart, but I'm not sure he's ready and I want him to be fully aware of his decision and to do it for the right reasons. 

This little man of mine just has a heart for Jesus and I don't want to disappoint him.

6 years ago my life changed forever...

Spencer asked me last night, "how was I born?"And this is what I told him:

6 years ago today, in the middle of the night my belly started to hurt. Every 5 minutes it would hurt. When Daddy finally woke up at 5 in the morning I told him it was time to go to the hospital. I walked around the hospital with Daddy for 8 hours to try to get you to come out, but it didn't work. You wouldn't listen! Surprise surprise. ;) So the doctors gave me some medicine to help you come out and you STILL wouldn't listen. Then the doctor popped the bubble of water around you with a big crochet hook to try and get you to come out and you finally said okay. So I pushed REAL hard and I pooped (insert an insane amount of 6 year old little boy laughter).

Then I pushed again and out you came! And you were HUGE! The doctor put you on my tummy and I said, "He's an angel. An angel sent straight from heaven." (insert said little boy's sweet little "awe") And that is how I became a mommy for the very first time.

Your face was so red and swollen and you didn't have a chin (insert giggle) and you had dark black hair and looked like a little eskimo baby. Scratch that, a BIG eskimo baby. And the whole time we were at the hospital the nurses would pop their heads in and say, "I just wanted to come see the 10 pound baby! Oh my goodness! He's so huge!" 

And here you are 6 years later, even HUGER. So grown up, so sweet, so smart and so loving. It's hard to remember you were ever so "little." Sometimes when I am feeling nostalgic, I'll pick up a 10 pound bag of sugar in the grocery store and think about my baby boy. I am so proud of the little boy with the HUGE heart that you have become. I love you Spencer, Happy Birthday!

Grateful.

I decided to organize the "office." I know, to most of you that have been to my house, it seems like quite the feat! BUT, after 2 1/2 days of gutting and purging, I can finally say that it is ALMOST done. :)

So last night, as I was going through some paper work, I came across this:

I know this piece of paper and 3 pieces of card stock wouldn't mean much to most, but to me, they represent an extremely depressed time in my life full of disappointment and pain.

If you look closely, you can see the date: 3/16/07, the day I found out I was pregnant with baby number 2. I had bought Spencer a shirt and painted the words "big brother" on it, took pictures of him in it, and added a page to his scrap book so we could always remember how happy we were at that moment in time.

I was so excited.

But that excitement soon turned to sadness when we ended up losing the baby. I remember being so angry, feeling so hurt and confused. I took out the pages from the scrap book and tore up the pictures. I never wanted to be reminded of the hurt again. I guess I forgot to discard the page itself and tucked it away somewhere, not ready to let go of what had happened. A couple months later, I was pregnant again. This time would be different, this time I would have a healthy baby in the end. But this time was the same, but even more painful. How could this happen? I was healthy. I had a healthy first baby. Why? Still confused, a couple months later, yet again, I was pregnant, but this time I was terrified. I spent my entire pregnancy scared that this too would end in pain. But it didn't. It ended in Tatum.

So here I am, over 4 years later, looking at this piece of paper, this physical reminder of pain, and yet I feel so overwhelmingly happy.

I can honestly say that 2007 was one of the hardest years of my life. There was a point I truly believed God was punishing me for something and I was only going to be able to have one baby. But here I am 2 babies later. God had a plan for me. I am not in control, I never was. I think God wanted me to learn that so that I could truly let go and embrace the plan he has for my life. I would never want to ever experience the loss and disappointment I experienced that year ever again, but I also think that I wouldn't be where I am with three beautiful babies if it weren't for that loss. I am so very grateful for my children. And who knows, maybe I'd still have 3 babies, had I not lost those 2, but I wouldn't have TATAUM. I wouldn't have LUCY. And I wouldn't know and feel deep down in my gut how truly blessed I am to have them.