A Prayerful Thanksgiving Eve

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day. It is also the day that Ethan was "officially" expected to arrive. While I think so many people can look at the loss of a child, in the way we lost Ethan, and think, "oh they should be over it by now.", the majority of those individuals have no clue just how profoundly lives are changed by the life, birth, or death of a child, no matter the stage of development. As we sit pondering the holidays this year, it is amazing to see that our lives are light years away from where we would be if Ethan hadn't died. It may be hard to grasp, but nearly EVERYTHING is different now. Relationships with friends, family, even our own marriage has been changed by his life, and his loss.

As those friends that are expecting their babies in the next week or so prepare for the births of their children, we are sorely reminded of Ethan's absence. While it's truly not personal, the approaching births of these children is truly heartbreaking for us. The unfairness of those couples delivering a big, and healthy baby, while my tiny baby sits on a shelf in an urn in my dining room is immeasurable. There's no way around that. Our lives are changed forever by Ethan's life, just as theirs will be changed forever by the births of their children.

I would love to sit here and type lovely words about how happy my little boy must be in heaven, and while I truly, truly believe that,I'd much rather have him here with us. Today, all I can do is pray for the strength to be thankful. Thankful for his Ethan's life, thankful for the time that we were able to spend with him after his death, and most of all thankful that he IS happy in Heaven, free from the hardships of this life.

If you have a free minute today to bend God's ear, you might ask him to lend us the strength to get through tomorrow, and the grace to be thankful for the time we had with our son.

Just Another Day

The boys were loving every second of summer vacation. The kids had already made a habit of sleeping in. They lazed in their beds until late morning when the warm sunshine and sparkle of the wading pool finally lured them out somewhere around 11:00 am. As was our habit on these new found days of endless nothingness to do, we ate breakfast (which may as well have been lunch) at the patio table, and then proceeded to enjoy just being outside. I sat with a cup of coffee as they milled around, played with cars and chalk, and tested their willpower to stay away from the pool until they were given permission.

Today when the inevitable question came "Mommy, can we go in the pool?" the answer was "Not yet, maybe later when we get back from the baby doctor." Now, "baby doctor" is a term that I used loosely to explain the traveling back and forth to my midwife's office. I'm sure she'd strongly oppose this practice, but it served my purposes at the time. I remember thinking while getting ready for my appointment how insignificant it felt. Just another quick check up, smack dab in the middle of a very long pregnancy. I pretty much just threw on a pair of denim capris, a pink t-shirt, threw my hair in a pony tail and headed out the door with my already large brood of children. I expected the whole thing to fly by so quickly that I didn't even bother to feed them lunch....after all they'd JUST eaten breakfast.

So there we were...me and my four little ones, just like we'd been 5 days ago. Sitting in the waiting room....waiting. Erik and Alex had been awarded "big boy status" and were now allowed to remain in the waiting room unattended while I ran through the necessary motions of the appointment. Ian on the other hand was allowed to bring one toy into the exam room, and (thank God for midwives) Ella just sat on my lap for the entire thing. We went through all of the normal stuff. Weight, urine, blood pressure, measurements, ect. Then last but not least, and my FAVORITE part of every appointment, the heart beat.

But there was only silence. And then Ian fell off his chair. She tried again, and there was silence. And then Ella, sitting on my legs, started to fuss. She tried a third time, and then said she'd feel better if I had an ultrasound. There was no drama, no hysterics. Amazingly, I was completely calm. We just heard him the other day, he was fine.

I walked down to the ultrasound room with Ella on my hip, and Ian holding my other hand, and I wasn't worried at all. It took all of about 1 second for me realize Ethan was gone. The very moment I saw him on the ultrasound, it was obvious. He was perfectly still, no flicker in his chest, no gymnastic routine, no punching, no kicking. The only movement was from my own heart beat, his little head moved with my own pulse. No one in the room even said a word. Not the tech, not Laurice, not even I did anything but nod my head. The silence seemed to strech out for an eternity. Then there were a few brief "I'm sorry's" and I remember asking if they could take my kids out of room so I could call my husband.

I barely remember the phone call to him, or the next one to my best friend. I only remember saying " he doesn't have a heart beat." What happened between the time that I made those calls and the time my husband got to the office, I have no idea. I think they asked what hospital I wanted to go to, and maybe a few other medical type questions.

It's amazing how surreal it seems now looking back. I honestly thought we were in the "safe zone". Everyone tells you...12 weeks, you're out of the woods, 14 weeks you're home free, and by 18 we were ready to paint the nursery.

In an instant, everything we'd planned for had changed, and I had no idea what would happen now. Then came the explanation of what we could expect at the hospital.

The Power of a Name

Life was busy, our 2 older boys were chomping at the bit for summer vacation, end of the year parties were taking up a good chunk of my time, and our little girl was FINALLY walking (which of course resulted in her being into EVERYTHING). Between the kids, house, dogs, cat, and husband I was tired all the time. As the next few weeks passed, I mulled, stewed, and lost sleep over the new OB practice, and finally decided that I needed my midwife. So, after A LOT of deliberation, I called and scheduled and appointment to talk to her about a home birth. (yes, I said home birth!) She was so sweet, got in me in right away, was SO understanding about my need to have some control over our birth. It was a Thursday afternoon that I sat in her office balling like a baby about how much I hated the doctor I'd seen, how I'd missed her, and that I wanted her (and no one else) to help us bring our son into the world. She laughed, and cried with me, and then did a quick check on the little guy. She measured, and listened to his heart beat, everything was perfect. We were a tad behind on our monthly prenatal, so she scheduled us to come in the following Tuesday for a full check up. That was fine with me, I could listen to the doppler "chugga-chugga" all day everyday.

I left the office with a sense of relief, and an urgency to find a name for the little guy. We were stuck on a name. I wanted Owen in the WORST way, and Daddy thought Owen was the WORST name ever. He liked Elliot, and I just couldn't wrap my head around it. We made lists, emailed them back and forth, eliminated, revised, and narrowed, and still we could not agree. Finally, on Father's Day after work, in the car, on the way to unplanned dinner out, we agreed on Ethan. YAY...he had a name! I've always been amazed at how much closer I've instantly felt to my babies once they've been named.  It was barely 10 minutes later that I am sure he passed away.

For the most part he was quiet in the womb, he gave a gentle nudge now and again, but at the end of week 17 he was much less active than I remembered my other children being. BUT, again, I was tired, busy, and had 4 other children to care for. As we were seated at the restaurant, I felt a few quick movements, and then what I could only describe as a lurch. It was enough that I stopped talking mid sentence and put my hand to my belly. Then I giggled, and said " I guess he likes soda". After that I felt very little, but I "knew" he was fine, we'd just heard his heart beat on Thursday, and I was NOT in the business of panicking.

Love at First Sight

It wasn't long before news of our news had spread far and wide. My bulging belly was causing a bit of a stir out in public. No one actually said anything, but I could see people looking (a lot). My guess was that they were trying to figure out if we had some religious opposition to birth control. Hmmm, we were pretty normal looking. In any event pregnancy was in full swing, and our biggest concern was WHERE were we going to have this baby?

Our beloved midwife had recently stopped doing in-hospital births, leaving us with few options for the kind of birth I had enjoyed with our daughter. We searched far and wide (like a 100 mile radius) for other midwives offering the same services, without much luck. It seemed to us that given my increasingly short labors traveling 75 miles just wasn't going to be an option. So it was with much apprehension that I decided (however temporarily) on a large obstetrical practice with the hopes that I could just tell them how our birth was going to be.

At 14 weeks pregnant, off we went to our new doctor. The day was filled with apprehension for me. I had so dearly loved my midwife, and here I was about to meet one of 10 doctors who may or may not deliver our baby. The only consolation was that we did have an ultrasound scheduled before our appointment with the doctor. Getting a sneak peak at our little peanut six weeks earlier than we would have with the midwife was VERY exciting.

So, there we were, lights off, belly bare and ready to go. The tech was so sweet, and in no time there was our baby up on 3 screens. We watched in delight as he flipped and flopped. The tech took her measurements, and all but confirmed that we were having a boy. He was measuring perfect, and healthy. His little heart flickered in his chest at 150 times a minute, he kicked and punched and rolled around showing off his gymnastic skills for us to see.

I just can't explain the relief that comes from a healthy ultrasound. Knowing that our baby boy was safe and healthy and growing right on (or just ahead of) schedule was peace of mind for us like no other. At this point our biggest concerns about our baby were what to name him, and what color to paint his room.

Sharing Baby Number 5

We had waited nearly 14 weeks before we shared the news of our last pregnancy. We'd had a miscarriage 4 months before, and wanted to be "sure" things were o.k. before we told everyone we were expecting. Our pregnancy with Ellise was absolutely perfect, not one concern; a completely natural birth with our AMAZING midwife Laurice Dunning, and a beautiful baby girl. Once we found out we were expecting again we couldn't wait to share the news with our friends and family.

While, I think most of our family was initially shocked, we found that nearly everyone we told was practically jumping for joy. Again, and again when I told other moms, I was met with overwhelming support, excitement, and congratulations. I had expected the opposite. (5 babies? Are you CRAZY? Were you TRYING?) I was pleasantly surprised at how warmly our new addition was embraced. To add to our joy,within two weeks we found out that 2 of our friends were also (surprisingly) expecting within a week of us!!! Oh, what fun we would have with our new babies!

What had started out as an unexpected surprise had turned out to be a huge excitement. I remember sitting at a traffic light thinking "Wow, God knew what he was doing." While I had always felt blessed with beautiful children, the new pregnancy had somehow flipped a switch inside me. I found myself looking at our life, taking a contented breath and thanking God for a wonderful marriage to my life's best friend, healthy, fast growing children, and a life that I just could not be happier with. God had been particularly good to us, and I was more grateful than ever.

Trust in the LORD with all your heart
and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways acknowledge him,
and he will direct your paths.

Proverbs 3, 5-6

The First Morning

I just had a feeling. There wasn't anything specific, I felt fine, and I wasn't late...I just knew. I guess after 4 babies, a mommy can sense a new pregnancy immediately. We hadn't exactly been planning for another baby quite yet, but there's something about a positive home pregnancy test that changes your entire outlook on the future.

I walked into our bedroom where my poor unsuspecting husband had barely so much as opened an eye to the day, sat on the side of the bed, and said something that I think came out like "can I talk to you I'm pregnant" in one breath. So much for all of the creative ideas I had running through my head of how to give him the news. The poor thing sort of looked at me blankly for a moment...and then said "how do you know?" as if he thought maybe I'd seen it in a dream, or had some other unreliable source of this very exciting, but surprising piece of information. At this, I eagerly whipped the pregnancy test from my robe pocket like it was some sort of newly discovered treasure. (sadly, in my enthusiasm I forgot exactly how dangerous this can be, and managed to baptize my shell shocked hubby with the contents of the test stick) After a couple of "I'm sorrys" and a good laugh, we both laid back, took a deep breath and contemplated this new chapter in our lives. It was official, we were expecting a baby.

The first few days that we knew we were pregnant were a bit like a walk in the backyard on a foggy morning. We knew it was familiar ground, but everything appeared different. Little did we know then how different everything would soon be, and how irreversibly our lives would be changed by the little person growing inside me.