Hi friends...for my own purposes, I wanted to post that babycenter.com says:
Fingerprints have formed on your baby's tiny fingertips, her veins and organs are clearly visible through her still-thin skin, and her body is starting to catch up with her head — which makes up just a third of her body size now. If you're having a girl, she now has more than 2 million eggs in her ovaries. Your baby is almost 3 inches long (the size of a medium shrimp) and weighs nearly an ounce.
Eeeee...the bean is the size of a shrimp. Fun! Tom loves shrimps. He loves shrimps with a passion. He will always order the shrimps off the menu, and if someone serves it, he smacks his lips and proclaims, "Mmmm....shrimps!!!" He loves our little shrimp, too. He is a shrimps-lover. :) (And yes, I know the plural of shrimp is shrimp. We just like to say shrimps. It's more fun that way.)
Speaking of Tom, and since the babycenter post mentions the bean's head, I wanted to say that I am pretty scared of birthing the bean. Koreans in general are cursed with larger than normal heads. I, for one, have never liked or worn hats because they sit funny on my big fat head. Tom recently became interested in biking and went to get a helmet from the bike store a couple of weeks ago. He came back from his trip very dismayed because he tried on the "universal" size and it didn't fit! His own words: "What is bigger than the universe?" Haha. So funny. He cracks me up. Anyway, he got a special helmet for his lovely head (safety first, kids!!!). That means, between my big head and Tom's big head, and the fact that Koreans tend to have big heads...I am in some serious trouble. Sigh. It'll be all worth it, though...I'll happily bear the pain (in theory, at least) if we can just hold our little bean with its big fat head in our arms. :)
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
singing i go
This is my dear Grandma Mun. For some reason, she's been on my mind today. She was a faithful, devoted woman of God who loved her children and her grandchildren with a tender heart and ferocious loyalty. She left this earth a little over a year ago at the age of 94 to join our heavenly Father, but she has left a lasting impression on my heart, and the hearts of all of her children and grandchildren. She was the most beautiful to me when, as a young child and teenager, I would wake up early in the morning to her beautiful, sometimes off-key, singing and passionate prayers.
The hymn that my siblings, cousins and I remember her singing most is one called "Singing I Go." The words...when she sang those words...there was such heartfelt emotion and joy. I took for granted all that she suffered through in her life before I was even a twinkle in her eye, and just assumed she could sing those words because her life was never that bad. How naive I was! Now, as I've seen just a glimpse of what she might have endured, the trials she might have known, I have a deeper appreciation for her faith and devotion...for the way she way she clung to Jesus in the worst of times. But the more awesome reality is that HE was holding her all along! And the same HE still holds me today! Wow...what an awesome God we serve! I love this hymn. It was my Grandma's life song. And along the way, somehow it's becoming my life song, too.
Singing I Go
The trusting heart to Jesus clings, nor any ill forebodes,
But at the cross of Calv’ry, sings, Praise God for lifted loads!
Singing I go along life’s road, praising the Lord, praising the Lord,
Singing I go along life’s road, for Jesus has lifted my load.
But at the cross of Calv’ry, sings, Praise God for lifted loads!
Singing I go along life’s road, praising the Lord, praising the Lord,
Singing I go along life’s road, for Jesus has lifted my load.
The passing days bring many cares,“Fear not,” I hear Him say,
And when my fears are turned to prayers, the burdens slip away.
He tells me of my Father’s love, and never slumb’ring eye,
My everlasting King above will all my needs supply.
When to the throne of grace I flee, I find the promise true,
The mighty arms upholding me will bear my burdens too.
Monday, May 24, 2010
a house divided
Currently craving: Soft pretzel with McDonald's hot mustard.
Happy Monday, folks! We had an eventful weekend. Besides leading praise, my not-so-little cousin, Paul, visited this weekend and we had a fun-filled family time. We never really go to see all of the things that made me fall in love with DC in the first place, the monuments, the museums, etc., unless we have visitors, so it was nice to go and see some of the sights. I am pretty pooped, though--I haven't walked around that much since before I got pregnant!
Last night was both great and disappointing for me--great because of the Suns' victory over the evil Fakers. Tom and I are a house divided. I am a die-hard Suns fan...and Tom, well, as great as Tom is, his only flaw is that he is a die-hard Laker fan. It kills me. For those of you who don't know, the Suns and the Fakers are currently in the Western Conference Finals for the NBA playoffs. The Lakers took an early 2-0 lead in the series, but the Suns fought back and beat them last night. Yay, Suns!!! Sigh. I love them. Even if they end up losing, I love them. And since I'm hosting the little bean, so does the bean. The bean is a Suns fan. :)
The disappointing part of last night was the Lost series finale. I won't go into detail, but I stayed up after the Suns game, and watched the recorded show until 1:15 am. Quite frankly, after season 3, the final 3 seasons were pretty much a disappointment. I only hung on because I thought that eventually they would get around to answering some of the questions that lingered after every stinking episode. And I thought, surely, some of the major questions would be answered. Nope. Blah. How disappointing. I am glad it's finally over and I can have that hour back in my week. Now, we just have to get 24 out of the way, and I'm good to go.
Our genetic counselor called today. Our blood test shows that our risk for Downs' Syndrome is 1:7621, the equivalent risk for a 20 year old (if only I had the energy of my 20 year old self!!!), and Trisomy 17/18 is 1:10,000. This doesn't completely eliminate the possibility of our bean having health issues, and I just want to emphasize that this doesn't mean that we love our bean any more or would've loved our little bean any less if the results had been different. God makes each little bean perfectly, in His own special way and for His own special purposes, and I can testify to that as a result of being an auntie to the babies and kids I've known in my lifetime.
But I would be lying if I didn't say that we are thankful for the results today. It has given us some much-needed peace of mind. Thank you, Lord.
Happy Monday, folks! We had an eventful weekend. Besides leading praise, my not-so-little cousin, Paul, visited this weekend and we had a fun-filled family time. We never really go to see all of the things that made me fall in love with DC in the first place, the monuments, the museums, etc., unless we have visitors, so it was nice to go and see some of the sights. I am pretty pooped, though--I haven't walked around that much since before I got pregnant!
Last night was both great and disappointing for me--great because of the Suns' victory over the evil Fakers. Tom and I are a house divided. I am a die-hard Suns fan...and Tom, well, as great as Tom is, his only flaw is that he is a die-hard Laker fan. It kills me. For those of you who don't know, the Suns and the Fakers are currently in the Western Conference Finals for the NBA playoffs. The Lakers took an early 2-0 lead in the series, but the Suns fought back and beat them last night. Yay, Suns!!! Sigh. I love them. Even if they end up losing, I love them. And since I'm hosting the little bean, so does the bean. The bean is a Suns fan. :)
The disappointing part of last night was the Lost series finale. I won't go into detail, but I stayed up after the Suns game, and watched the recorded show until 1:15 am. Quite frankly, after season 3, the final 3 seasons were pretty much a disappointment. I only hung on because I thought that eventually they would get around to answering some of the questions that lingered after every stinking episode. And I thought, surely, some of the major questions would be answered. Nope. Blah. How disappointing. I am glad it's finally over and I can have that hour back in my week. Now, we just have to get 24 out of the way, and I'm good to go.
Our genetic counselor called today. Our blood test shows that our risk for Downs' Syndrome is 1:7621, the equivalent risk for a 20 year old (if only I had the energy of my 20 year old self!!!), and Trisomy 17/18 is 1:10,000. This doesn't completely eliminate the possibility of our bean having health issues, and I just want to emphasize that this doesn't mean that we love our bean any more or would've loved our little bean any less if the results had been different. God makes each little bean perfectly, in His own special way and for His own special purposes, and I can testify to that as a result of being an auntie to the babies and kids I've known in my lifetime.
But I would be lying if I didn't say that we are thankful for the results today. It has given us some much-needed peace of mind. Thank you, Lord.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
oh say can you see???
Well, friends...we're almost officially done with our first trimester. Yay! We had our first trimester screening today and got to see our little jelly bean. Tom and I were both holding our breath and were pretty nervous, since our last ultrasound had brought some bad news. At first, we saw the little jelly bean waving its hands at us, saying "Hi, mom and dad!" or maybe saying, "Geez people, what is going on out there? Can't a poor little bean get some peace and quiet?" It was too cute. But we couldn't breathe a sigh of relief until we saw its beautiful heartbeat. Here's a pic from our ultrasound today--the bean's head is on the left side, and one of its hands are near its mouth.
The genetic counselor said that everything measured well, but we still need to wait for blood results to determine the exact probability of potential health issues. The bean seems to be measuring a bit small, but the genetic counselor said it was probably because it was curled up in fetal position (ha!) and refused to stretch out for the ultrasound tech so she could get an accurate measurement.
Frankly, we didn't really feel compelled to do this screening, since we love our little bean regardless of what health issues we might face, but I scheduled it more for my peace of mind after our last ultrasound. I just couldn't wait a month to see the bean. We did get to see Elioenai's body again. Still so still and little. We'll probably see our little Elioenai during the next couple of visits (if we get an ultrasound each time) before she completely absorbs into my body. It really hit me today that each milestone in the little bean's life, even after it's born, will be tinged with sadness. I don't know how hard it's going to be and how much it will hurt as the months and years go by, but I know that I will always think about Elioenai, and what she would've looked like, what her giggle would've sounded like, and how she and the little bean would've been like together.
I know this sounds so selfish to so many people--I know I should be thankful that we still have our little bean. I know that there are so many out there who wish they even had one baby and think, "if only...." Trust me, I know that feeling all too well. But I can't help how I feel. I just feel like there should be two babies in my body. I should have two babies in my arms in November....
Anyway, I don't mean for every blog entry to end so sadly. On a lighter note, Tom tricked me into singing the national anthem at his work's Asian Pacific American Heritage Month event. He owes me big time. It reminded me of when we were little and my dad would make me and my sisters sing the American and Korean national anthems at the Phoenix Korean soccer tournaments. I hated being dragged out of bed at the crack of dawn to go and sing for all of those old people. (Who, in retrospect were probably younger then than I am now!) I haven't sung the national anthem since high school--but anyone who knows me, knows how much I love America. Not surprisingly, I got really emotional while singing it just thinking about all the men and women who have died for our country, and how the flag of freedom has endured throughout our history.
As an added "bonus" (Tom tried to entice me with this so-called bonus), Kalpin Modi, aka Kumar of Harold and Kumar, was the guest speaker. He was not that great of a speaker and really had nothing compelling to say, but I got to meet Kumar. I felt compelled to ask him if he really loves White Castle burgers that much. Or if he enjoyed his time in Guantanamo Bay. Or about Pastor Daniel's doppleganger, John Cho. But I was a good girl and resisted. At least the reception food was tasty. :)
Okay, now I'm officially spent. To all a good night!
The genetic counselor said that everything measured well, but we still need to wait for blood results to determine the exact probability of potential health issues. The bean seems to be measuring a bit small, but the genetic counselor said it was probably because it was curled up in fetal position (ha!) and refused to stretch out for the ultrasound tech so she could get an accurate measurement.
Frankly, we didn't really feel compelled to do this screening, since we love our little bean regardless of what health issues we might face, but I scheduled it more for my peace of mind after our last ultrasound. I just couldn't wait a month to see the bean. We did get to see Elioenai's body again. Still so still and little. We'll probably see our little Elioenai during the next couple of visits (if we get an ultrasound each time) before she completely absorbs into my body. It really hit me today that each milestone in the little bean's life, even after it's born, will be tinged with sadness. I don't know how hard it's going to be and how much it will hurt as the months and years go by, but I know that I will always think about Elioenai, and what she would've looked like, what her giggle would've sounded like, and how she and the little bean would've been like together.
I know this sounds so selfish to so many people--I know I should be thankful that we still have our little bean. I know that there are so many out there who wish they even had one baby and think, "if only...." Trust me, I know that feeling all too well. But I can't help how I feel. I just feel like there should be two babies in my body. I should have two babies in my arms in November....
Anyway, I don't mean for every blog entry to end so sadly. On a lighter note, Tom tricked me into singing the national anthem at his work's Asian Pacific American Heritage Month event. He owes me big time. It reminded me of when we were little and my dad would make me and my sisters sing the American and Korean national anthems at the Phoenix Korean soccer tournaments. I hated being dragged out of bed at the crack of dawn to go and sing for all of those old people. (Who, in retrospect were probably younger then than I am now!) I haven't sung the national anthem since high school--but anyone who knows me, knows how much I love America. Not surprisingly, I got really emotional while singing it just thinking about all the men and women who have died for our country, and how the flag of freedom has endured throughout our history.
As an added "bonus" (Tom tried to entice me with this so-called bonus), Kalpin Modi, aka Kumar of Harold and Kumar, was the guest speaker. He was not that great of a speaker and really had nothing compelling to say, but I got to meet Kumar. I felt compelled to ask him if he really loves White Castle burgers that much. Or if he enjoyed his time in Guantanamo Bay. Or about Pastor Daniel's doppleganger, John Cho. But I was a good girl and resisted. At least the reception food was tasty. :)
Okay, now I'm officially spent. To all a good night!
Monday, May 17, 2010
12 weeks: in the lime-light
Yesterday, we entered our 12th week and our sweet little jelly bean is now the size of a lime! According to BabyCenter.com:
The most dramatic development this week: reflexes. Your baby's fingers will soon begin to open and close, his toes will curl, his eye muscles will clench, and his mouth will make sucking movements. In fact, if you prod your abdomen, your baby will squirm in response, although you won't be able to feel it. His intestines, which have grown so fast that they protrude into the umbilical cord, will start to move into his abdominal cavity about now, and his kidneys will begin excreting urine into his bladder.
Meanwhile, nerve cells are multiplying rapidly, and in your baby's brain, synapses are forming furiously. His face looks unquestionably human: His eyes have moved from the sides to the front of his head, and his ears are right where they should be. From crown to rump, your baby-to-be is just over 2 inches long (about the size of a lime) and weighs half an ounce.
I read this to Tom yesterday, and right on cue, when I read the part that says, "if you prod your abdomen, your baby will squirm in response," Tom poked me hard in the stomach. Ouch. Nice.
Twelve weeks is a huge milestone for pregnancy, as it is the point where the risk of miscarriage decreases significantly. To celebrate, Tom and I stopped by Home Depot after church and bought some flowers to plant in our yard and our pots. We got some daylilies to plant near our garage and around our mailbox, and begonias for the walkway and our pots. It was nice to spend some time doing something outside together...while Scoutie sat in the grass and watched her silly humans. I am super-duper fatigued today, even though Tom did most of the hard work while I supervised. (He's so great.) I think being able to enjoy the pretty flowers this summer will make it all worth it. :)
The most dramatic development this week: reflexes. Your baby's fingers will soon begin to open and close, his toes will curl, his eye muscles will clench, and his mouth will make sucking movements. In fact, if you prod your abdomen, your baby will squirm in response, although you won't be able to feel it. His intestines, which have grown so fast that they protrude into the umbilical cord, will start to move into his abdominal cavity about now, and his kidneys will begin excreting urine into his bladder.
Meanwhile, nerve cells are multiplying rapidly, and in your baby's brain, synapses are forming furiously. His face looks unquestionably human: His eyes have moved from the sides to the front of his head, and his ears are right where they should be. From crown to rump, your baby-to-be is just over 2 inches long (about the size of a lime) and weighs half an ounce.
I read this to Tom yesterday, and right on cue, when I read the part that says, "if you prod your abdomen, your baby will squirm in response," Tom poked me hard in the stomach. Ouch. Nice.
Twelve weeks is a huge milestone for pregnancy, as it is the point where the risk of miscarriage decreases significantly. To celebrate, Tom and I stopped by Home Depot after church and bought some flowers to plant in our yard and our pots. We got some daylilies to plant near our garage and around our mailbox, and begonias for the walkway and our pots. It was nice to spend some time doing something outside together...while Scoutie sat in the grass and watched her silly humans. I am super-duper fatigued today, even though Tom did most of the hard work while I supervised. (He's so great.) I think being able to enjoy the pretty flowers this summer will make it all worth it. :)
Thursday, May 13, 2010
heaven is the face
I mentioned a few days ago that I had a sense of peace about Elieonai...and as I've been processing my emotions, I've been reminded about the great paradox of loss for believers. The reason I have such peace is because Elieonai has a full, beautiful life that is infinitely better than we could ever offer. So...we grieve not for Eli's loss, for she has gained everything we long for...but we grieve for our loss, for our pain. We will never get to see Eli's beautiful face, hear Eli's sweet laughter, receive Eli's sloppy kisses, or feel the weight of Eli in our arms here on earth. But I can't even imagine the joy we will have when we are held together in our heavenly Father's arms!
I've always loved Steven Curtis Chapman's beautiful music and admired his heart for adoption. My sweet cousin, Uno, sent me these two clips today, and they are just so touching. For those of you who don't know, SCC and his family adopted three beautiful girls from China. About a year and a half ago, their beloved Maria Sue died in a tragic car accident. I was so moved watching SCC sing because there is such sorrow there...the sorrow of a father who has lost his beloved child. But I also sensed that, as God has given him these words, there is a deep comfort...a comfort that can be only given by our heavenly Father to His beloved child. I guess I was especially moved because music has been so instrumental in my worship of God throughout my life...the Holy Spirit is able to minister so powerfully to me through music!
So, without further ado, I leave you with the two clips that Uno sent me. Thank you, Uno. You have ministered so deeply to my heart today. Heaven is the face of our little Eli.
I've always loved Steven Curtis Chapman's beautiful music and admired his heart for adoption. My sweet cousin, Uno, sent me these two clips today, and they are just so touching. For those of you who don't know, SCC and his family adopted three beautiful girls from China. About a year and a half ago, their beloved Maria Sue died in a tragic car accident. I was so moved watching SCC sing because there is such sorrow there...the sorrow of a father who has lost his beloved child. But I also sensed that, as God has given him these words, there is a deep comfort...a comfort that can be only given by our heavenly Father to His beloved child. I guess I was especially moved because music has been so instrumental in my worship of God throughout my life...the Holy Spirit is able to minister so powerfully to me through music!
So, without further ado, I leave you with the two clips that Uno sent me. Thank you, Uno. You have ministered so deeply to my heart today. Heaven is the face of our little Eli.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
11 weeks: how sweet it is
Today, I am 11 weeks and 3 days. I wanted to write a post to my little earth baby today, who looks like this:
Dear baby,
This week, you are about the size of a fig. You are like two packets of sugar -- 2 inches long, and 1/3 of an ounce! How sweet are you?!?! All your organs are now formed and functioning, and the websites all say that you are moving around a lot! Of course, we already knew that you are quite a mover and a shaker...at our last ultrasound, you wouldn't sit still for a picture (just like your old dad...heehee).
I'm sorry that I've been so sad lately. I just miss your twin, Elioenai, a whole lot. I wonder if you miss your buddy, too. But words cannot describe just how much I already love you and how excited I am to meet you. I can't believe I'll get to hold you in about 6 1/2 months...your daddy and I have been dreaming about that day for so long now that it hardly seems real. We've got so much to do in the meantime...but could you just do one little thing for mommy, and stay put and continue to grow, grow, grow? There are grandmas and grandpas, aunties and uncles, and older cousins and friends out here who are asking God to bring you out safely, and they are all dying to meet you!!! Of course, Scoutie can't wait for her new playmate, either! You guys are going to be best buds, I just know it!
I loved you before I ever saw you, my little sugar, and I'm falling in love with you more and more each day....
Love,
mommy
Dear baby,
This week, you are about the size of a fig. You are like two packets of sugar -- 2 inches long, and 1/3 of an ounce! How sweet are you?!?! All your organs are now formed and functioning, and the websites all say that you are moving around a lot! Of course, we already knew that you are quite a mover and a shaker...at our last ultrasound, you wouldn't sit still for a picture (just like your old dad...heehee).
I'm sorry that I've been so sad lately. I just miss your twin, Elioenai, a whole lot. I wonder if you miss your buddy, too. But words cannot describe just how much I already love you and how excited I am to meet you. I can't believe I'll get to hold you in about 6 1/2 months...your daddy and I have been dreaming about that day for so long now that it hardly seems real. We've got so much to do in the meantime...but could you just do one little thing for mommy, and stay put and continue to grow, grow, grow? There are grandmas and grandpas, aunties and uncles, and older cousins and friends out here who are asking God to bring you out safely, and they are all dying to meet you!!! Of course, Scoutie can't wait for her new playmate, either! You guys are going to be best buds, I just know it!
I loved you before I ever saw you, my little sugar, and I'm falling in love with you more and more each day....
Love,
mommy
Sunday, May 9, 2010
mother's day
Happy Mother's Day to all of you moms out there. This day has been a hard day for me in recent years...but I am so thankful for my mom, my mother-in-law, all of my friends who are such wonderful mothers, and all of my friends who still long and dream to hold their babies in their arms, who are so deserving of a special day like this one.
Frankly, I felt a little nervous about celebrating Mother's Day...since much of the world would look at me and say, "she's not a mother!" But I realized that I am a mother. I am a mother to six sweet babies...one we hope to see in about 29 weeks, two who are waiting for us to come and get them, and another three we will see on the other side of eternity. Tom and I decided to name our newest glory baby (with the help of Helen eemo) Elioenai, which means "my eyes look to God."
This morning was hard...it was hard to sing the words "you give and take away," knowing that God chose to give and take away Elioenai in such a short timespan. It was impossible to hold back my tears, and again, they flowed so freely. But I felt a strange sense of peace throughout the day...not just peace, but thankfulness that Elioenai is already in heaven and is whole...in the presence of God. And Elioenai will never know pain or sorrow...but will always know joy, love, and worship...how amazing is that? It doesn't make me any less sad, but it does bring me a little bit of comfort.
Blessed be Your name.
Frankly, I felt a little nervous about celebrating Mother's Day...since much of the world would look at me and say, "she's not a mother!" But I realized that I am a mother. I am a mother to six sweet babies...one we hope to see in about 29 weeks, two who are waiting for us to come and get them, and another three we will see on the other side of eternity. Tom and I decided to name our newest glory baby (with the help of Helen eemo) Elioenai, which means "my eyes look to God."
This morning was hard...it was hard to sing the words "you give and take away," knowing that God chose to give and take away Elioenai in such a short timespan. It was impossible to hold back my tears, and again, they flowed so freely. But I felt a strange sense of peace throughout the day...not just peace, but thankfulness that Elioenai is already in heaven and is whole...in the presence of God. And Elioenai will never know pain or sorrow...but will always know joy, love, and worship...how amazing is that? It doesn't make me any less sad, but it does bring me a little bit of comfort.
Blessed be Your name.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
tears in His bottle
You have kept count of my tossings;
put my tears in your bottle.
Are they not in your book?
Psalm 56:8
Our sweet baby is gone. In my dream last night, I was picking out a baby coffin for my baby, and I woke up in tears. I have cried so much over the past 3 years that it is hard to believe there are any tears left...but they still flow so freely, and I am so so so tired.
I can't believe that both my babies are still inside of me...one so vibrant, and one so still. One who will, Lord willing, grow and one who will be "absorbed" back into my body. I don't know how to grieve for my lost baby and be joyful about the one who is still here with us.
I am leading praise this weekend at our church, and had picked the song "Blessed Be Your Name" before we found out about our sweet baby. Never before have I felt the joy and the pain in these lyrics so intensely. I believe the Lord has given me this song for this time. I know that everything I have, including my sweet babies, belong to the Lord...He gives and takes away...and today, this day, in the midst of my deep sadness, and even though I don't understand why this had to happen, my heart will choose to say, "Blessed be Your name." Our sweet glory baby will just have heaven before we do.
Blessed Be Your Name
In the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name
Blessed Be Your name
When I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed Be Your name
Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
Blessed be Your name
When the sun's shining down on me
When the world's 'all as it should be'
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name
You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name
put my tears in your bottle.
Are they not in your book?
Psalm 56:8
Our sweet baby is gone. In my dream last night, I was picking out a baby coffin for my baby, and I woke up in tears. I have cried so much over the past 3 years that it is hard to believe there are any tears left...but they still flow so freely, and I am so so so tired.
I can't believe that both my babies are still inside of me...one so vibrant, and one so still. One who will, Lord willing, grow and one who will be "absorbed" back into my body. I don't know how to grieve for my lost baby and be joyful about the one who is still here with us.
I am leading praise this weekend at our church, and had picked the song "Blessed Be Your Name" before we found out about our sweet baby. Never before have I felt the joy and the pain in these lyrics so intensely. I believe the Lord has given me this song for this time. I know that everything I have, including my sweet babies, belong to the Lord...He gives and takes away...and today, this day, in the midst of my deep sadness, and even though I don't understand why this had to happen, my heart will choose to say, "Blessed be Your name." Our sweet glory baby will just have heaven before we do.
Blessed Be Your Name
In the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name
Blessed Be Your name
When I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed Be Your name
Every blessing You pour out
I'll turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
Blessed be Your name
When the sun's shining down on me
When the world's 'all as it should be'
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name
You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
bittersweet morning
We went in for our 10 week appointment today. At first, everything was exciting. We saw both babies, and Baby A was bouncing around, having a grand old time. Then, the doctor got silent and said after a bit, "I'm sorry, I can't find a heartbeat on Baby B...and it isn't moving." All I remember after that is the doctor saying the words "common," "25%," "IVF," and "don't worry."
This is a heartbreak like no other. Goodbye, sweet baby. You were not common to us. You are not a statistic to us. You are our one-of-a-kind, special baby and I am glad I got to have you for even these 10 short weeks. I may never hold you in my arms, but I will always hold you in my heart.
Here is the last picture of our babies together. Baby B is on the left.
This is a heartbreak like no other. Goodbye, sweet baby. You were not common to us. You are not a statistic to us. You are our one-of-a-kind, special baby and I am glad I got to have you for even these 10 short weeks. I may never hold you in my arms, but I will always hold you in my heart.
Here is the last picture of our babies together. Baby B is on the left.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
hannah's hope
I've gotten quite a few emails lately from friends sharing about their own infertility journeys and asking me more about mine. It's quite humbling that God has allowed me to share my story with them, and even more humbling to be entrusted with such precious and personal information. I guess this is exactly why I started sharing about our struggles with people in the first place....when we first received our diagnosis, the most dominant feeling I had was isolation. This was not a feeling that resulted from people shunning me or excluding me...rather, it was a self-imposed feeling of loneliness. It just felt like no one I knew could understand the depth of my pain. That's not true, of course...but that's how I felt.
Truth be told, I think I always had a sense that this would be my struggle, even from a very young age. See...from the days of Sunday School until now, every time I heard the story of a barren woman in the Bible... Hannah, Sarah, Elizabeth, Leah, the list goes on...my heart would be torn to shreds. I had a weird sense of sisterhood and kinship with these women, as well as the inexplicable knowledge that, if God so chose this path for me, infertility would be my greatest struggle. So I guess I always just knew. I now know that God was preparing me for this time.
As I hear the stories of my friends who struggle with infertility now, my heart still tears to shreds. I wish I could just give them all a big hug and I wish something I could do would make it go away. Unfortunately, it doesn't quite work like that. All I can do is pray and offer support. It can be a long, lonely road...but it doesn't have to be. My prayer is that each of them will find as great of a support network as I have...prayer warriors that will rally around them, and lift them when it seems that they can't go on themselves.
There is a book called Hannah's Hope, written by Jennifer Saake, who founded the online forum hannahsprayer.org that I mentioned before. In Hannah's Hope, Saake takes the story of Hannah from 1 Samuel and imagines what was going through Hannah's heart and mind, and discusses the emotions that come with infertility. I found this book pretty early on in my journey, and I found it to be extremely comforting and helpful in processing my feelings. It's also a great book for those of you who know someone suffering through infertility, as it gives some insight into how an infertile feels (sometimes it's so embarassing to share those feelings!) and also gives some practical advice on how to be a "burden bearer." It's a quick read and I highly recommend it.
To all my infertility sisters...I am praying hard for God to bring you all that you desire. xoxo
Truth be told, I think I always had a sense that this would be my struggle, even from a very young age. See...from the days of Sunday School until now, every time I heard the story of a barren woman in the Bible... Hannah, Sarah, Elizabeth, Leah, the list goes on...my heart would be torn to shreds. I had a weird sense of sisterhood and kinship with these women, as well as the inexplicable knowledge that, if God so chose this path for me, infertility would be my greatest struggle. So I guess I always just knew. I now know that God was preparing me for this time.
As I hear the stories of my friends who struggle with infertility now, my heart still tears to shreds. I wish I could just give them all a big hug and I wish something I could do would make it go away. Unfortunately, it doesn't quite work like that. All I can do is pray and offer support. It can be a long, lonely road...but it doesn't have to be. My prayer is that each of them will find as great of a support network as I have...prayer warriors that will rally around them, and lift them when it seems that they can't go on themselves.
There is a book called Hannah's Hope, written by Jennifer Saake, who founded the online forum hannahsprayer.org that I mentioned before. In Hannah's Hope, Saake takes the story of Hannah from 1 Samuel and imagines what was going through Hannah's heart and mind, and discusses the emotions that come with infertility. I found this book pretty early on in my journey, and I found it to be extremely comforting and helpful in processing my feelings. It's also a great book for those of you who know someone suffering through infertility, as it gives some insight into how an infertile feels (sometimes it's so embarassing to share those feelings!) and also gives some practical advice on how to be a "burden bearer." It's a quick read and I highly recommend it.
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