Anything could happen...

Its been a while since I have updated on what has happened in my life, so I will share with you now. 

So last August I half jokingly said to my husband that we should sell our house for profit, pay off a bunch of debt, and buy a new home all because "the market was right". He heeded my words of wisdom and we sold our house in 3 days. I wept as I called him and let him know our counter offer had been accepted and we were moving forward. While I knew when we bought our first home that we never intended to stay forever, I guess the shock of how quickly things happened gave me no time to process. I am a creature that doesn't handle change well. The hunt for a new home started and I thought it would be easy to find something we could both agree on that was in our price range. Apparently everyone else got the memo, because as soon as a house went on the market there were three full priced offers and it was sold in a day. My hopes of sealing a deal before Christmas was looking dim. We found a nice house on the east side of town that was a short sale. Now if you have ever dealt with a short sale, there is nothing short about it. We lived with my parents for two months while things got smoothed out. Here's the funny thing; the house is the same layout as our last home, minus one bedroom and mirrored. We laughed and said at least we knew our furniture would fit. In November we got to move into our house and the work continues to progress. New carpet, paint, flooring, cleaning. It is moving along slowly, but it moves.

During this time, our church was going through a series on the life of Abraham. If you are familiar with his story, you know that he and his wife Sarah were promised a child from God but had to wait many, many years to see this promise fulfilled. There were a few Sundays where I sat in my chair with tears streaming down my face thinking how Sarah's pain matched my own. She became so desperate to give her husband a son that she offered up her maidservant to be the mother of his child. Haggar became pregnant with Abraham's first son and she flaunted her pregnancy in front of Sarah. Sarah wrestled with anger, hurt, disappointment, rejection, loneliness; all the things I wrestled with in my own journey. But because our God is sovereign, Sarah did become pregnant with a son and she named him Isaac, meaning "laughter". 

Through this series I had to work through a lot of stuff. I had to give a lot to God. And thankfully I finally became okay with where we were at. I even found myself being able to 

encourage others who are facing the same painful reality. 

Christmas came. This is hard time of year for me. My thoughts go to how we should have four stockings hanging up on the fireplace mantle. I made two memory ornaments for my babies in heaven. It was an emotional yet beautiful project. In the dark living room, only the lights from the Christmas tree were on, I hung up Elijah and River's ornaments and stared at them for a while. Not with us physically, but now they would always be here for Christmas. 

We had a wonderful time with our families. Ate way too much food, had lots of laughs, and just enjoyed being with those we are blessed to have with us. Guy and I cozied up at home that Thursday night not knowing that things would be different in the morning. I was expecting my cycle to start at some point over the Christmas week, but it never came. So Friday morning I found myself, once again, six in the morning peeing on a stick. Two pink lines. The best of all Christmas surprises. I again shoved the freshly seasoned pregnancy test in Guy's sleepy face and asked if he saw them too. We both sat in bed with goofy smiles on our face. Bewildered that we once again were pregnant yet also a little fearful that 

we were once again pregnant.

I'm now into my second trimester of my pregnancy. Feeling so crazy blessed that I have a little human growing in there. I'll update you more on what God has been showing me through the last 14 weeks. But this is a rather long addition to the blog and I just needed to share how good God is. He is faithful to keep His promises. They never come when we want them to. And sometimes they don't come without pain. But they come when God planned for them to. 

You and I'll be safe and sound...

A stall feeder that's still full is a sad thing. Just hours earlier, my sweet friend was eating her snacks. 

Now she's gone.

Misha came into my life 13 years ago. I was a horse crazy girl who just wanted to be special to someone. She was a tall, white horse with a tender heart. 

I worked at a youth ranch that rescued abused and neglected horses. Misha was their first ever rescue. She was severely underweight when they found her. The man who owned her joked that her only purpose would be for dog food. She became so much more than that. She helped hundreds of young kids, like myself, learn how to ride and how to love.

She had a quirky personality. She hated her ears to be touched. Hated having her bridle taken off because her teeth had been hurt in the past. And she never liked to go slow. 

I rode her in 25 mile long endurance races. We were a top 10 pair most of the time. Through the long days of training and preparation for these races, Misha and I became very bonded to each other.

The year that I turned 16 she became my horse.

I would ride her for hours out on the BLM by my house. Most of the time I didn't know where we would end up, but I didn't care and neither did she. I trusted her and she trusted me.

When I got married, I had pictures taken in my wedding dress with her. I would have ridden her into the ceremony had Guy not thought it to not be a great idea. 

As life tends to do, my time became spread very thin. The moments with my friend consisted mostly of me brushing her and talking to her. I don't think she minded it too much.

And then October 19th came. My friend let me know that it was time to go.

The moment is burned into my mind. It plays back like a slow motion movie or nightmare.

I told her how good she had been to me. Thanked her for being there for me.

And like that...she was gone. The only words I could muster through the sobbing was "oh God...". 

The vet and Guy left me to be alone. I laid on the ground with her for I don't know how long. I didn't want her to cross over by herself. I cradled the happiest moments of my childhood in my arms. 

I think that every little girl should get to be so blessed to know the love of a horse.

I do believe because of them I am a little bit of a kinder person.

I have memories to last a lifetime that many can only dream about.

God blessed me beyond words through my Misha girl. And for that I am forever grateful.

Just close your eyes, the sun is going down. You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now. 

 

After the storm...

A few weeks ago I took a road trip with my mom, brother, and aunt. We loaded up the trusty 'ol Subaru and hit the open road for North Dakota by way of Montana. Why North Dakota you ask? Why not? There's miles of fore spacious miles of grasslands, oil rigs every where, and seldom is heard a discouraging word. 

Actually, the main reason for the trip was to see where our roots began. My grandmother passed away from breast cancer when I was not yet two years old, that makes my mom to be in her mid-twenties at the time. From what I've heard, she was a hard working woman who had a kind heart and knew how to cook any type of meat that was brought home in the back of a truck. 

Her grandparents came from the Bohemian regions to Dickinson, North Dakota. They settled there and started a wheat farm and a cattle ranch. She grew up in a sod house with dirt floors. 

She met my grandfather and moved to Oregon. A few generations later, here I am.

Road trips give you a lot of time to think. Our first day of the trip I think we traveled for 10(ish) hours because "Wicked Betty" (our gps who earned her name after leading us astray more than once) led us through peach orchards on the boarder of Washington and then wanted to shoot us back across into Oregon. We managed to make it to Missoula with not much hassle from Betty once we got into Montana. Later that night we found out we could have shaved off an hour or so of travel time had we gone upstream a bit more. Oh well.

So, with lots of time to think and mother nature letting me know I was barren once again, my thoughts went to the usual place. These times suck. And it seems that this is always when Facebook is bursting with photos of happy families with their new precious bundles and pregnancy announcements are everywhere. I just wanted to cry, but crap, we were only one day into this nine day excursion. And I hate crying about this in front of people. 

The skies in Montana are beautiful. We were able to see a great thunderstorm the night before and a golden sunrise the next morning. We consulted Yelp for a local coffee establishment but foolishly trusted Betty (strike 2 of 6) to lead us there. Thank God for smart phones. The coffee shop was open and spacious. Very inviting. As I perused the bags of coffee I stumbled upon a green mug. Green is my favorite color and I do have a thing for coffee mugs. It was hand painted and when I read the words I knew I had to have it. 

"There will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears"

How appropriate. 

I feel it was The Lord reminding me that this time will pass. That I'll get through this. 

I've stared at this mug a lot through out the weeks. When the tears choked my throat, I thought of this saying. Told myself that this isn't it, even though some days feel like it is.

The tears may cease here. They may only cease when I am staring at my Creator. But this isn't it.

So, everyday I get out of bed and put one foot in front of the other. I try my best to be gracious and look forward to the day with no more tears.

"And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears. 

And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.

Get over your hill and see what you find there,

with grace in your heart and flowers in your hair"

~Mumford & Sons~

"After the Storm"

And I am always yours...

"This is the start, this is your heart. This is the day you were born..."

I held a pregnancy test at six in the morning, staring a the word I had been waiting for for two years to see. Pregnant. 

For six weeks I carried you and sung to you. Imagined what your face would look like; if you would have my eyes and your daddy's nose. I couldn't wait to meet you.

 

"These are the scars deep in your heart, this is the place you were born. And this is the hole where most of your soul comes ripping out from the places you've been torn."

Three weeks later, after much prayer and holding on to the small wisps of hope, you left us. And my heart was torn. I didn't know how I could move on.

"But I am always, always, always yours"

  Do I miss you? You bet. 

Even though I never even got to see your heart beat, I know I loved you.

Do I wish things were different? With everything I have, I do.

The silver lining to this garbage dump of a situation is this: 

I know I will get to see you again. I know that.

 

 

August 27th, 2011 was one of the hardest days of my life. It shattered everything I thought that I knew. Not every mom gets to be a mother. Life can and does throw you curve balls and what it comes down to is are you gonna swing? Or walk out?

I asked Guy why it was so hard to let River go? He concluded that losing him/her was my first real heart break. It's true. 

I was a pretty tenacious child. If there was something I wanted, I made a way of getting it. I could influence people like no other. People liked me. There was pretty much nothing that I could not do or have if I wanted it bad enough. 

Then we decided to have a baby. Snap! Babies are easy! Two years went by and I began to doubt that babies were as easy as I thought. Then I finally got pregnant and thought everything would be fine. The "M" word never crossed my mind. That Saturday in August changed the way I view life. No matter how bad I wanted it, how hard I fought for it, no amount of money could buy it, I was no longer pregnant. 

It has changed a lot of how I view things. It makes me realize how blessed I am. Yeah, that is a strange statement. But I have an amazing family that has stuck by us through all this...ick. My marriage has grown deeper. Sorrow works in strange ways. I have grown in my relationship with God. Some people may ask why He wouldn't want us to have kids. Think He can't be all that loving if something so yearned for, He hasn't granted. I don't know myself nearly as well as The One who created me. He knows my potential, the depths of my love, the strength of my will, and the desires of my heart. I have to trust that He knows what He's doing when He gives and takes away. I've had some bad days, but my track record for getting past them is 100% so far. 

And there is only One I can attribute that to.

Is the struggle over? Nope.

But I am going to swing for the fences.

 

"Hallelujah, I'm caving in. Hallelujah, I'm in love again. Hallelujah, I'm a wretched man. Hallelujah, every breath is a second chance."

I will follow you into the dark...

                  This is a wonderful week. Not much in our lives have changed; actually they have gone a little crazy. But what makes this week wonderful is that it's the week of the 4th of July. And as I stepped out onto my porch this morning, I saw this: 

Another morning that we are free. Another morning that God has given us.

The past three years have been pretty hard on me. We lost River in 2011. I lost one grandpa in July 2012. I lost the other grandpa "Pop" this past January, and then Elijah in April. Needless to say, there has been a lot of loss.

Pop was an avid photographer. He always had a camera. He would always ask me how my photography was going. The last time he asked, I said it was going very well. What he said next still brings tears to my eyes. He told me he was real proud of me. After he died, I said "...even if I never make another cent off my photography, I will continue to take photos in memory of Pop". 

Now grandpa. Grandpa was a man of many culinary talents. He hunted, gardened, canned, cooked, and ground meat. Back in the day, all of us grandkids would gorge ourselves on the blueberry bushes he had. We'd run through the fields and toss apples at each other. I will always remember the gardens grandpa would grow every year. The corn towered above you. There were too many tomatoes to eat. Squash and cucumbers grew like weeds. Grandpa had the best garden. My mom and her siblings just recently sold grandpa's house. So many memories sleep there. The times in my life I wish I could freeze. In an effort to commemorate my grandfather, I have started my own garden. Very humble and pathetic compared to his, but I am trying. This is from a butternut squash that I harvested from his garden last year:

It is a well known fact that deer lurk in all the dark places in housing developments here in the high desert. The first night I put my tomatoes in the ground, a stinking deer came along and made a midnight snack out of them. After weeks of covering my precious seedlings, they soon became too large to fit in the confines of my poorly constructed chicken wire cages. Building a fence around the raised garden beds was kinda out of the question. Say hello to my little deer repelling friend:

 It's called the "Scarecrow". It's a motioned sensor sprinkler that only goes off when something provokes it. It works. I know from experience. As far as I can tell, the deer are staying away, which is good, because there would be a late night stake out for this girl if they ate my bounty. 

Lastly, what is blooming are the wildflowers I planted in memory of my babies. I planted them from seeds. I chose the cheeriest mix I could find; they are supposed to attract butterflies and hummingbirds. I have been eagerly watching the seeds grow, trying to figure out what flowers they will be. Much like the anticipation of meeting your new baby for the first time. This one lone flower sticks out among the green leaves of the ones that have yet to blossom. It brings a small smile to my heart seeing this. I do think of my babies and how I so wish they were here with us so they could enjoy their flowers too. But that is not the plan that God has for us at the moment. So I will enjoy the flowers throughout the summer and anticipate their sunny faces next spring. We trust in God that He will give us another day and hope in His timing.

And dread the day when dreaming ends...

                                     Have you seen the newest rendition of Le Miserables? You know the one that lasts like forever and only about ten words are spoken and the rest is song and dance? Though it is a love story, the scene when Fantine (Anne Hathaway) is singing her heart out about how life is not the way she thought it would be just caused the tears to stream down my face. "Oh Fantine, our stories are so different, yet the emotions are the same". When Anne belts out "I dreamed a dream", I can't help but think that this is how I sometimes feel. "...so different now from what it seemed. Now life has killed the dream I dreamed."

I was recently asked what are the good and bad things I have learned through the loss of my two babies. This is something that I have actually thought about some; what infertility and loss teaches you. I answered the questions uninhibitedly. Even though my babies weren't "babies" in the eyes of some, the emotional and mental turmoil of losing them, to me, was just as hard as if I had seen their sweet faces. Sadly, society doesn't recognize these losses as substantial or worth acknowledging. We've come a long ways in the last decade, but still have a ways to go. While I do not wish to downplay the pain of a mother who has lost her sweet baby at birth, I don't want my pain of losing my children before I could even see them swept under a rug.

So, back to the question, what have I learned?

Cons:
The loss of innocence. Somewhat like in Fantine's song, when I was young I never even thought that I would have such trouble having a baby. Going through these losses stole that sweet innocence and naivety from me. I had to realize that some women will never become mommas. And that the loss and pain is real.
The loss of joy. I have joy. Even in sadness, I have an unexplained joy from God. The loss I am talking about is when I do become pregnant again. When I found out I was pregnant with Elijah, I was excited, but that excitement was shrouded by the thought "what if it happens again?". I was so afraid to tell anyone for the first few weeks because I didn't want to disappoint again. The night I told my dear friend about it, I stood there and bawled and gasped that I couldn't handle another miscarriage. She reassured me that God knew what He was doing, and even if it didn't turn out the way I wanted, I knew I could get through it and see the other side. I have made it to the other side stronger and with cleared revelation through God's help. But I know that the next time around I probably won't allow myself to believe it at first in an attempt to protect my heart.
You can never look at a pregnant woman the same.  Ugh. Remember when I said I was brutally honest? This was the worst one for me to admit. I have come to terms about this. There will always be a pregnant lady in my life. That's just how it is. I am happy for friends and family who welcome little ones into their lives. Though there is happiness, there is still a sting of pain and shame that makes me turn my eyes away from a pregnant belly and decline invitations to baby showers. Most days are better than some, but some days it's all I can do to breath in and out.

Okay, enough with the bad. There is good.

Pros:
I have a deeper understanding of God and His ways. Though I cannot answer why bad things happen, I know that God has everything in His hands. On those days where I am having a rough time, I have found so much comfort in resting in knowing that God is my Heavenly Father and He wants good things for me. He reserves the best for me and spares me from things that would hurt me in the long run. Through my human eyes, this doesn't make sense. And that's okay. God doesn't have to reveal His master plan to me. I only need to be still and let Him fight for me.
I have a better relationship with Guy. Heartache and pain can do either one of two things; bring you closer together or tear you apart. We're no exception and it has not been a walk in the park. Guy has seen me in my darkest days, un-showered and sans make up (sorry honey!). I have watched my rock and best friend shake and hurt and know that there is nothing I can do to make it right again. Things have happened that could have driven us apart, but we have fought to stay together. He is my lobster and I want to walk claw-in-claw with him until the end (anyone 'Friends' fans?). We have gone to a new level in our relationship that has strengthened us for pretty much anything. I praise and thank God for my husband and wouldn't want to be going through this fire with anyone else.
I'm able to give hope to women and couples. It's not just to those who are going through infertility and loss, but all the trials of life. Every experience is different, but the way we handle them is almost always the same. We can either let it consume us or we can let it fuel us. It is a daily choice for me to not let this become my identity. I don't want to be known as Maddy-the woman who can't have a baby. I want people to be able to say that because of me, their life was a little bit richer. Like Tabitha in the Bible, I want to be known for always doing good. It's a choice. Every. Day.
I have started eating better. This one is silly, I know. But it's true. ;)

I have related with the painful words that Fantine sung alone in the dark. But the difference is that I do have hope. Life may have stolen my innocent dreams, but God is revealing His plans for my life. He holds me when I cry in the dark; I am not alone. He is restoring my heart daily.

There you have it. I bared my heart. The good and the bad. Not so that you can pity me or (hopefully not) hate me. But to just shed a little bit of light on what is going on.

 

Are we just going to wait it out...

             "Everybody says that time heals everything but what if the wretched hollow, the endless in-between. Are we just going to wait it out? Sit here cold?"
                                  
There are 6.2 million women in the United States that are affected by infertility. 6.2 million women who will never know the feeling of having her baby kick in her belly. 6.2 million women who will not get to experience something that seems so natural.
                         July 8, 2009 is the day that I would unknowingly join the 6.2 million.

                          Three weeks ago I went and had some extensive blood work conducted. I can't even tell you all the things they were looking for. It's somewhere in the lines of folic acid mal-absorption, blood clotting, protein deficiencies,...the list goes on. I've had a very welcomed peace these last few weeks. An unexpected joy really. A freedom that God granted me. I realized that I am more than this situation. I do not need to be weighted down by this. I can have joy through this trial. I've felt pretty darn good the last three weeks. And then this week started; my peace is truly being tested. To someone who is infertile, finding out that people who are close to you are pregnant always seems to send a small jab of sadness to your gut, no matter how "fine" you are.This week I learned of two.
Today I received the phone call from my doctor regarding my test results. When we decided to do the lab test, I told myself that if there was something that could be fixed, I would want to keep trying to have a baby. If there was nothing, we should continue with pursuing adoption. So as my nurse proceeded with small talk, I waited for the news. Deep down I was hoping for something. At least there would be answers as to why it's taken almost four years to start our family. "We've looked over everything and we can't see anything wrong". Great. My heart sunk a little. "Dr. Carlson would like to talk to you about the next step". great....
Guy and I had decided a while ago to not seek out medical intervention if we could not conceive naturally. So any In-vitro or Intra-uterine procedures are out of the question. For personal reasons and I'll leave it at that.

                           We are going to meet with my doctor next month just to discuss everything thoroughly and to give us time to process the situation. Adoption is back on the table. But the what ifs still hang in the shadows of my mind. The longing to know what it feels like to feel my baby kick and to not be able to see my feet still ache in my heart. But we still serve The God who raised the dead, Who walked on water, and even made barren women mommas. Yes, this is a valley that we are walking through right now. But He is still the same Savior yesterday, today, and  forever. Even though it seems dark right now, we are not alone on this journey.