A letter for my boy, on your first birthday.

Oliver Lee,

I can't believe it's been 365 days since I first held you in my arms. That moment only solidified that fierce, protective love I've had for you since they day we learned of your existence. Not every day this year has been easy. In fact, most have been hard, but every single day I have been thankful that God chose me to be your mommy. I am not the same person I was a year ago. I've felt deeper, cried more, felt more intense joy. I've worried more, and I've learned to trust more. I've grasped desperately for control, and I've learned to let go of control. I've asked the ever burning question "why?" and I've learned thankfulness.  I've wrestled intensely with God, and in the end, I've come to trust His goodness and love for me all the more. We've had our setbacks, but we've had our huge victories. I'll never forget the first time I looked into your eyes- and three months later when you first looked into mine. How can I do anything but praise the One who created you? 

Us special needs parents are often referred to as "advocates." And we are. Many times we're the only ones fighting for our babies. But Ollie- for as many times as I've had to fight for you, there is One who has been fighting even harder for you from the beginning of time. And He doesn't just fight for your health- but He fights for your heart. He loves you, He created you, He even died for you.   Perfect vision and health cannot replace the joy to be found in knowing Jesus. And nothing would bring me more joy as your mommy than to someday know you've given your heart to Him. He fights for you.

I don't know what struggles you'll have growing up. But I know you'll have some. I mean, don't we all? And people can be so unkind. Kids on the playground can be unkind. Don't let anger stir up. Don't let bitterness take root. I pray you'll stand up for yourself with kindness and confidence- not just because you're you and you're special (although you absolutely are!!) but because you're HIS. That's the only identity of yours that matters. And goodness boy, just love those people. Love people so so deeply. Because we are so deeply loved. 

Your name means "peace." We picked that name for you even before you were born. It's been so significant for us this year, and I pray it's a name that becomes increasingly true of you as you grow up. 

Oliver Lee, I love you so so much. I'm so proud to be your mommy. Happy birthday. 

Cornea Transplant

This has been a very big week for us!  I wish I had the time and space right now to fully express in writing what the Lord has been doing in my heart for the past 3 1/2 months. And someday, my hope is to be able to share all of that. Truthfully, I think I'm just at the beginning of what the Lord is doing in me as a result of my Oliver. But for now, I will just share an update of the surgery this past week and how he is now doing. Thank you to the MANY of you who I KNOW have been praying for him and our entire family. We can't even express how much it means to us to know that we have prayer warriors across the country lifting up our baby boy before The Throne.

On Monday afternoon we received the phone call we have been waiting for – a cornea was found to transplant into our baby boys eye! And, as we knew would happen, surgery was scheduled for a mere 2 1/2 days later. Thursday morning at 6 AM we checked into the surgery center.  Anxiety was high, as to be expected. I hadn't really slept much the couple nights before leading up to surgery. Such a mix of emotions! On one side we were thrilled that this was finally happening! This is the surgery we have been praying for since our boy was born! But on the other side – and at the moment more prevalent – was fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of putting our baby under anesthesia, fear for the result of the surgery, fear for what else might be discovered once the surgeon got in there. And on the third side (can there be three sides to this?) was heartbreak for the family whose child this cornea had once belonged to. It was very hard to process through what our excitement meant for another family.

After getting him checked in and kissing my sweet boy goodbye, we went out to sit in the waiting room. What a surreal moment that was. We were told surgery would only be about an hour long.

Surgery actually ended up being about three hours. Thankfully we had a nurse come out to see us at about the two hour mark and tell us that Oliver was doing fine – the surgeon was just needing to take his time –  but that still did not take away all of our concern from the surgery taking so long. Additionally, there were some people in the waiting room getting very irritated at their own procedures being so far behind. Their grumbling and swearing under their breath was only adding to our anxiety. The receptionist kept telling them the doctor was running behind due to "complications" in his first case (which was us!) "Complications" was not the word we wanted to hear. We did however meet one very sweet couple in the waiting room that were such a godsend to us!  They told us they knew that we had a little one back there in surgery, and that they had no problem waiting. They were happy to know that the surgeon was taking the time he needed on our baby. That was a gift!

Finally surgery ended (what felt like 17 hours later) and we got to go back and see our baby boy. He was groggy and very fussy from not having eaten for the past 12 hours, but he was awake and doing well! I felt like I was holding him for the very first time all over again. At that moment I didn't even care about the result of the surgery, I was just happy to have him back in my arms.

The surgeon explained to us why the surgery ended up taking so long. Without getting too graphic, apparently once he got in there he discovered that Ollie's iris was bulging out due to some pressure in the back of his eye. It was completely unavoidable, but the surgeon ended up needing to cut some of the iris away in order to fit on the new cornea. Unfortunately, the iris may cause some future vision problems for him, such as glare, but nothing super significant. And as far as we are concerned, any improvement in vision for him is great! Considering he most likely had no vision at all and that eye to begin with.

Now for the good news: our surgeon feels very optimistic about how the surgery over all went. He said the cornea fit on perfectly and although we still have no way of knowing for sure what the result will be, he is feeling confident that Ollie should have some restored vision! Also unexpected good news: while under anesthesia, he did a thorough exam on Ollies left eye (the less cloudy one) and he seems to think that his vision has actually improved in that eye!

Two days later, Ollie is doing so good! He's such a trooper! He isn't a huge fan of the shield over his eye- his little fingers have somehow managed to pry that thing off a few times! We have to put in eye drops about 12 times a day- but he's doing great with those as well. He has very little need for pain meds at this point, and is eating and sleeping normally (still through the night!) We're so thankful for his progress! We still don't know what he can see through it- and may not for some time.

This surgery is just the beginning of a long journey for us. This is a marathon, not a sprint. But the surgery was a big first step in helping our son. The main thing right now is for us to watch for signs of rejection. It will be a full year before we know for sure that the surgery was successful.  At that point, we may start to discuss transplanting the other eye, but that is not the biggest concern. Mostly, we are just spending our days loving our son and trusting our Heavenly Father who made him. We have no choice but to lean on His sovereignty and goodness. And of course, we covet your continued prayers.

Oliver Lee- a story about peace.

Apparently Im only blogging once a year now ;) Regardless, I wanted to get this all written out before I forgot any details. I'm excited as I watch Ollie's life story unfold before us. We have only seen a tiny glimpse of what The Lord might do through his life!

We found out we were pregnant on Tuesday, October 4, 2014. I was at work when I took the test and was overjoyed! Another baby! I couldn't wait to tell Evan, but I wanted to get the timing right. That night was youth group, and Evan was teaching. In order to not break his focus on the night, I decided not to tell him until we got home later. We sat on the couch after getting home late and I handed him a small gift bag. Inside I had placed the pregnancy test I had taken earlier that day. After an excited leap from the couch, Evan's simple response was, "Ok, here we go!" Yes, here we go.

Nausea and tiredness kicked in almost immediately and wiped me out. I'm sure in part due to the fact that I was also chasing around our 13-month old daughter who had just started walking. Our 8 week ultrasound revealed a strong heartbeat. We were so thankful for this healthy little life! The usual anxiety kicked in for the next several weeks as we waited to be "in the clear," though the persistent pregnancy symptoms I continued to feel comforted my fears about the safety of our baby. The day before Thanksgiving, we went in for a 12 week appointment and heard a healthy little heartbeat for the first time! We were so thankful and couldn't wait to start sharing the news with others that weekend!

Though I continued to battle anxiety for the next few weeks, by the time our 20 week ultrasound came, I felt mostly excited as we were about to see our baby for the first time and find out if Clara was getting a baby brother or sister! We were called back to the room and settled in for our appointment. The very first thing the ultrasound told us was that we were having a little BOY!! I was SO excited to bring some blue into our family! The appointment continued as normal, all body parts being measured and noted. The very last thing the tech checked on was his kidneys. For minutes, she searched and searched and could only detect the left kidney. The right one was no where to be found. Additionally, she told us at the end of the appointment that she had discovered some cysts on his brain. Cysts that could mean absolutely nothing, or could be indicators of some serious genetic issues. He had no other concerning markers, but because we had declined genetic testing in the first trimester, we had reason to be mildly concerned. We were referred to a parinatal specialist and sent home.

Now, I know so many others have received much much worse news at ultrasounds. I'm not going to pretend I can relate with those who have discovered the loss of a baby or serious health issues. I'm not putting myself on an equal ground with those who have experienced deep devastation. But having experienced even this, I can say that any news other than perfect health can be absolutely wrecking for a mother. As we waited for our appointment with the specialist the following week, my mind spun in circles with worst case scenarios and what-ifs. I hoped that our appointment would bring good news and an end to worry, but what I didn't realize is that God had something very important to teach me.

At 21 weeks we met with the perinatal specialists to seek some clarity about what might be going on with our boy. We were relieved to discover that the cysts on his brain had already disappeared, and a quick blood test revealed that there was nothing genetically concerning. But there was still no right kidney to be found, and we were scheduled to check again in 3 weeks.

We come to 24 weeks pregnant. Still no kidney to be found, but something else was discovered. Our baby had a varix in his umbilical cord. As best as I can understand, in non-medical jargon, here's what was happening: the cord connection between me and him was fine, but inside his own body, where the cord was delivering vital nutrients for his development, the cord was kinked and bubbled. The danger with this condition is that the cord can become clotted, resulting in stillbirth. The baby and I would be closely monitored, and if at any time the doctors were concerned with his safety, there would be a possibility of a premature delivery. Even though the odds were on our side as long as we were closely monitored, I was still terrified. For the next few months I continued to see specialists every few weeks, and beginning at 32 weeks I was a weekly visitor with the high risk doctors.

We faced many ups and downs at our frequent appointments. At 28 weeks we found his right kidney!... In his pelvis. At the same appointment, the doctor thought he saw a possible hole in his esophagus, which miraculously disappeared by the next appointment. I battled anxiety throughout my entire pregnancy. I had so little control! It was so scary needing to see high risk doctors every week. But God was so good to me, and my pregnancy ended up being such a sweet time. I watched The Lord challenge my ideas of what I thought was "fair" and begin to tear down my idols.

Praise The Lord, every appointment continued to show a healthy baby. The varix never went away, but the flow of the cord remained strong. I was scheduled for a 39-week induction on June 4. (The risk of stillbirth increases as it gets closer to the due date, so they wanted him out by that point). Wanting to have a natural labor, I prayed specifically that The Lord would bring the baby earlier than 39 weeks so that I could bypass needing to be induced. And he answered!

We're now at the birth part of Oliver's story. (Thanks for still reading!). I love reading birth stories. I love watching birthing videos, and seeing birthing pictures. I love all the gory details that are a part of bringing life into this world. But I realize that few people share this love so I'll try to keep this portion of his story as clean as possible :) if you don't care about this part of his story, feel free to skip to the bottom. I include it here because there are some details of his birth that I see are pertinent parts of his life story.

At 1am on June 2 I began to feel labor contractions. I had been feeling contractions for a couple days at that point, but they were painless and inconsistent. Evan had fallen asleep watching a movie, but I hadn't told him yet that I suspected I was in labor. I knew once I did he wouldn't be able to sleep anymore! For the next hour I continued to time contractions, growing in excitement that we might be meeting our boy soon! The contractions weren't regular, coming every 7 minutes, then 15, then 10, but they were increasing in pain and duration! Evan woke up around 2am and saw that I was sitting up in bed, wide awake. "What's going on, babe?" "Oh nothing. I think I'm in labor, but go back to sleep." Haha, yea right! Evan was suddenly wide awake! We continued to time contractions for the next hour or so, keeping in contact with the on-call doctor at the hospital. Around 3:30 am we decided it was time for us to go. My brother came over to stay the night with Clara, and we headed out! We arrived at the hospital shortly after 4am and were encouraged to discover I was 4cm dilated and officially in labor! However, shortly after arriving at the hospital my labor slowed down significantly and the nurse began to talk about the possibility of us being sent home. Unfortunately, the monitors soon showed that our baby's heart rate was having a very difficult time with the contractions. (Our doctor had warned us that his cord condition could make his heart rate extra sensitive during labor, and I would therefore need constant monitoring). When I wasn't contracting, his heart rate was strong in the 140's, but every contraction was dropping it down to the 60's. The conversation with the nurses quickly switched. Not only were we not being sent home, but we were very possibly going to face an emergency C-section. As a last-ditch effort, the nurse asked me to lie on my side (I had been sitting up since arriving at the hospital). Miraculously, laying on my side took the pressure off the cord and his heart rate stabilized. I was brought into labor and delivery.

By the time I had reached 6cm dilated, my labor again slowed down, almost to a complete stop. This was such a huge change from my labor with Clara! (She was born within two hours of arriving at the hospital, and I was expecting another very fast labor and delivery). By this point my usual doctor had arrived at the hospital and came in to check on us. Here was our situation: for the sake of the baby, labor needed to progress. My water hadn't broken yet, and even though breaking it would have been a successful way of moving labor along, keeping it intact was giving an extra cushion to the umbilical cord. Changing positions would have also been helpful in moving labor along, but laying on my side was the only thing stabilizing his heart rate. We were kind of stuck. Even though it wasn't ideal for a natural labor, my doctor recommended pitocin to increase my contractions. At this point, I knew I just needed to be willing to do what was needed to bring my baby safely into the world. I was put on the lowest dose possible, which was just what my body needed to kick back into gear! After an hour or so of STRONG contractions, I turned to Evan and told him I really felt like I needed to push. The nurse came in to check on me, but told me I was only 7cm dilated. "Keep going!" She encouraged. I was sure I was further along than that... And I was right. At the very next contraction, I felt the baby crown! Evan frantically called the nurse back in and a host of other nurses and my doctor followed. At 12:48pm, after one push, Oliver Lee Skelton entered this world. 6 pounds, 3 ounces, 18.5 inches long. What joy and relief!

The name Oliver means "peace." (Lee is the middle name of both of his grandpas!) We chose this name, partially because we loved it and it fit with our criteria of classic, old fashioned names, but mostly because of its significant meaning. Throughout a high risk pregnancy, we really felt The Lord teaching us over and over again what it means to have "peace that transcends all understanding." I had to learn in those times of fear and uncertainty, that The Lord had ultimate control over the life of my child. He is sovereign, good, and can be trusted completely! What I didn't realize at this moment was that The Lord wasn't done asking us to trust Him...

Which brings us to our current situation with our sweet Oliver. Many of you know the things that are going on, and to many of our friends this will be news. Not because we are trying to hide any information, but simply because we didn't want our son's current situation to be the  first or main thing that we talked about. We needed times of simply celebrating his safe arrival and sweet little life without always focusing on the negative.

A few short hours after settling into our room at the hospital, we noticed that Oliver's eyes didn't look right. Instead of seeing clear eyes with pupils, we only saw a white cloudiness. We asked several nurses if they had any idea what was going on, and no one had any answers for us. I was terrified. Was my baby blind?? I couldn't help but fear the worst. The night before we were discharged from the hospital we were finally able to see a pediatric ophthalmologist. He was able to rule out glaucoma and cataracts, but was still unable to tell us what was going on. And, most importantly, what the state of his vision was. We were sent home from the hospital with a referral for another ophthalmologist, and very little answers. I was overwhelmed and scared. It didn't seem fair. First a complicated pregnancy, and now my baby might not be able to see?

Yet again, The Lord sweetly and gently reminded me of his goodness and control. HE created Oliver. Just as he is. HE alone is sovereign, and can be trusted with our baby's life. I was yet again being taught to have peace.

Fast forward to now. In his 5 weeks of life, Oliver has seen many eye doctors and specialists. He has had several tests done, and we are thankful that we finally have some answers! Oliver most likely has something called Peter's Anomaly, where the cornea of the eye does not develop properly. We don't know yet why this is- he will be seeing a geneticist at some point to try to determine why this happened. Treatment is a cornea transplant surgery. We are currently on a list and waiting for a donor. We are so thankful, though, because tests have revealed that most likely, the only issue is the cornea. His eyes seem to be healthy underneath, and our doctors are optimistic that after surgery and recovery, he should be able to see clearly!

We still have a long road ahead of us. There is no guarantee. Transplant surgeries always come with the risk that his body would reject the new tissue. We don't know for sure what his vision will be like afterwards. It could be 100 percent, or he could still really struggle. We're probably looking at contact lenses for the rest of his life. But I can truly at this point say that I have peace! The Lord has been so good to us... Oliver is such a little miracle already, regardless of the outcome of his surgery.

If anyone is looking for ways to be specifically praying for us:
1. Pray for the success of the surgery! That our sons visions might be fully restored!
2. Pray for the family of the donor. Corneas need to come from a deceased person as close in age as possible. Which means that in order for Ollie to have this surgery, another small child needs to pass away. This breaks my heart.
3. Pray for continued peace and trust!

4. And ultimately, pray that God would be glorified. We already see Ollie's life as such a testament to the goodness and sovereignty of God- pray that others might come to know Him as a result!

Joy in the tiny.

God has a funny way of surprising me. Turns out it's a really good thing, because I try too hard to make my life comfortable and predictable. 

It started a few months ago. I was in a season of serious discontentment. I was discouraged about the lack of money in our bank account, and dissatisfied with the lack of space in our apartment. For years I've been dreaming of the day when we could stop writing rent checks and step into the grown-up world of a garage and my own washer and dryer. Our lease is up August 1st, so we were 'planning' (I've learned to use this word veeeeery loosely now) on renewing our lease for one more year, then starting to look at houses once Evan graduates next spring. I figured I'd just tolerate 800 sq feet just a little longer, then I could *finally* get what I wanted. 

Then we got our lease notice. They were increasing our rent by $100 a month. For us, that's an outrageous amount of extra money that we don't have. So now what? We started looking around our area at other two bedroom apartments, hoping we'd find one comparable that we could afford. Turns out our complex wasn't the only one affected by the market. Everything had been raised a ton. We couldn't afford to live anywhere!  

Then. An apartment opened up. In the basement of some of our dear friends. With one bedroom.  I didn't seriously consider it for a while because, duh, we can't take our family of three into a one bedroom apartment! It's just not possible! But God was closing every other door except the one of that little basement apartment. I prayed that God would change our circumstances. 

A funny thing happened. Something did change. But it wasn't our circumstances. What changed was my heart. God began to bring questions to my mind. Why did I think I deserved something bigger and better? Am I so prideful? Lord, what are you wanting to teach me through all this? Communal living could be very sanctifying. I do want to live simply. I began to realize how much I had bought into the "American" mindset. [Bigger. Better. More. Upgrade. I deserve it.] The truth is, I deserve nothing. God has been so, so good to our family. And all I do is complain. I've decided to give gratitude a try. 

And so, at the end of this month, we will be moving our little family of three into a quaint, little, one bedroom basement apartment. No, it's not where I pictured myself 4 years into marriage with a child. I pictured a house and an SUV. But truthfully, I'm looking forward to it. It will be an adventure for sure, and it will take some strategic space planning, but this next year will be so, so, good for our family. I know it. We can only grow from these kind of experiences... If we are willing to be stretched outside of what is comfortable.  

We're holding our plans much more loosely now. Sure, a house would be great next year. But it might not happen. And maybe not even the year after that. But God is faithful, and we are thankful. May I not too quickly forget this lesson.

mommy lessons.

     

       Well, my baby girl is already 11 weeks old. She has been fed, and is sorta content in her musical vibrating bouncy seat right now, so maybe I should grab this opportunity to finally write this blog. (By the way, surely there is a market for these seats in adult sizes. I think we would all be less stressed)

         Thinking back to when Evan and I got married 3 1/2 years ago, I remember feeling like a mirror was being held up to show me my selfishness. I thought, "wow, Im selfish." Then I had a baby. Now my thought is, "wow, Im the most selfish person in the whole world." Sanctification is the process by which we become more like Christ, and less like our sinful nature. Im discovering that there are few things more sanctifying than becoming a parent. The past 11 weeks have been filled with so many emotions: frustration, exhaustion, sheer joy, anxiety, and the list goes on. In the midst of so many emotions however, the Lord has been so gracious in teaching me a few things here and there. By no means have these lessons been learned (in the sense of completion), but here are at least the top 6 that I am in the process of learning.

      1. God is a Father. This attribute of His has never been so real to me. Nor had I ever really grasped what is means that He is our father. I think Im starting to to get a glimpse of it. Firstly, it means sacrifice. I can easily think of the things I have sacrificed to be a parent. My body, my time, my hobbies, my sleep. And, even though at times I pout about the loss of these things, ultimately, I am happy to make the sacrifice. I wouldn't trade her in for anything. But these sacrifices are so small. What did Christ sacrifice for me? His life. He gave His life so that I could be brought back into a relationship with God. He gave His life to give me freedom from sin. And ultimately, I am given life eternal with Him in heaven someday. And He did it because He loves me. Thats awesome. Way better sacrifice than some flabby skin and a few less hours of sleep. Secondly, it means love. Unconditional, unfaltering, faithful love. I feel this for Clara. But what I feel for Clara looks more like I kinda like her compared to how God loves me. Wow. And, as much as I want to give Clara good things, how much more does my Heavenly Father want to give me what will turn out for my good.

     2. Do not be anxious about anything. But in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, with transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:6, 7) I have had quite a journey with anxiety. I don't have to look for things to worry about. They come to me. So imagine the wreck I am with this little bundle of potential anxiety living in my house. There are so many things that could go wrong. SIDS, illness, deformity, under-development, failure to thrive, getting into a car accident, picking the wrong college, dating a bad guy... there are so many things that could happen to Clara. (trust me, I have exhausted the list). BUT, God did not give me a spirit of fear. I have to make the conscious choice every day to hand her over to Him. She does not belong to me, she has been entrusted to me. He loves her far more than I ever will. And no amount of worrying or google searches will give me anymore control. She is His, and I have to trust Him with her life.

    3. Be here now. Celebrate the little victories. Don't wish away moments. This one is a hard one for me. When she was born, I couldn't wait until she smiled at me. Now she smiles at me, but I cant wait to hear her giggle. That first month of sleepless nights, I couldn't wait for her to sleep a solid 8 hours. Now she does that, but I cant wait until she sleep longer. And is able to cry herself to sleep instead of needing to be walked around the house. I couldn't wait for her to start interacting with toys. Now I cant wait for her to be able to sit. and crawl. and walk. and drive. Its so easy to look forward to the next stage and totally miss what she's doing now. And, just because she slept for almost 10 hours one night, doesn't mean she wont want to see you at 3am the next night. Its ok. Be glad for the 10 hours. Take it a night at a time.

     4. Don't play the comparison game. I think every mother has dabbled in this at some point. There are strong opinions about every possible decision you'll every have to make. And they start before the baby is even here. Natural birth? Epidural? Doctor? Midwife? Then the baby comes. Vaccinate? Schedule? On-demand feedings? Breastfeeding? Formula? Pacifiers? Cry it out? Apparently, no matter what decision you make, you're ruining your child. I know all moms are mostly well-intending, but its never helpful to hear things like, "Well, my child...." or "Well, what I do is...." Every child is different. Every parent is different. There are many things that Evan and I have had to simply pray about, come to a decision, and stick with. And sure we'll take some advice... if we ask for it :)

      5. Give yourself grace. You'd think this would be easy. Since my name is Grace. But I think that God ordained my name to be something I would really struggle with. I've had to learn that its ok if my day doesnt go as planned. Sometimes the dishes don't get done. Sometimes I dont get a shower. Sometimes, pregnancy weight takes a while to go away. Sometimes in the midst of having an infant, I havent completed my to-do list of cleaning the house, doing a pinterest craft, working out, saving the world, and getting homemade whole-ingredient dinner on the table by 5. (And sometimes, I sit down to write a blog, and I only get about a paragraph done at a time because, well... I have a baby.) Sometimes the only thing I have accomplished during my day is loving my baby girl. And thats ok. In fact, it sounds like a pretty awesome day to me. God's grace is sufficient. His power is made perfect in my weakness.

      6. Dont forget about daddy. Evan is so awesome. He is truly the very best man to be my husband and Clara's dad. He is pretty much super-man when it comes to balancing working, being a full-time grad student, being the youth director at our church, and loving me and our daughter. But even super-man needs loving. Super-man needs a wife who encourages, cares, listens, and prioritizes time with. Its really easy to forget about him when the baby is sucking the life and energy out of me (in a good way, of course...). But the best gift we can give Clara is us having a strong marriage.

     I know I have only scratched the surface of what kind of lessons parenthood will bring. But thank the Lord that there will be more lessons. I'd hate to get cocky about this whole thing.

Clara Felicity - A Birth Story

September 7, 2013.

 Pretty normal saturday morning. I woke up around 9am that morning after not sleeping well. I was tossing and turning for most of the night, due to quite a bit of lower back pain and indigestion. I didn’t think much of it... after all, I was 39 weeks pregnant. I was used to my body hurting. I remember sitting down on the couch with a bowl of cereal when I started to notice some contractions. I had been having braxton hicks contractions for a few weeks at this point, so I figured thats what I was feeling. These, however, seemed pretty consistent. Just for fun, I started to time them as I sat there. 5 minutes apart, lasting only about 30 seconds. Totally not painful. So, I just kept eating breakfast. Around this time, Evan walks into the living room and sits next to me. We sit in silence for a little while... me continuing to feel non-painful contractions every 5 minutes. I recall we were a little irritated at each other that morning. Of course, I don’t remember what it was about. Finally, I turn to him and rather non-chalantly say: “Babe, I think I might be in labor.” His response... “Well, I feel like a jerk.” Suddenly we weren’t fighting anymore.

We continued to sit and eat breakfast while I explained to him some of the symptoms I was feeling. Lower back pain, indigestion, and consistent non-painful contractions. “Its probably nothing...” I said. “If anything, it will take a super long time to progress into anything.” At this point, I think Evan was starting to freak out just a little. “Should we go to the hospital??” Nah....

 We had planned that morning to head up to Arvada (a city about 45 minutes away... and the opposite direction of the hospital) for a end of summer festival they had going on. Somehow, I convinced Evan that we should still move forward with our plans. After all, my labor would surely progress slowly. Besides, walking around in 90 degree weather would probably help things move along a bit. Before leaving, though, we DID finish packing the hospital bag and quickly installed the carseat (super prepared, here).

 So, away we went. We did call our doula, Melissa, on our way... just to let her know that labor might be coming soon... but probably not. Seriously, I was not convinced I was in labor. It just didn’t feel like labor. I always pictured some big dramatic-middle-of-the-night, frantic run-around kind of moment. This was definitely not it.

 We spent the whole morning in Arvada, checking in with our doula every couple of hours. The update was always the same. Still 5 minutes apart, still lasting about 30 seconds, still not painful. Finally, around one o’clock, I started to not feel very good. We figured it would be best if we headed home. We could rent a movie, eat some food, and keep timing contractions. On the drive back, my contractions started hurting just a tad more. But, not big deal. After all, I probably wasn’t in labor.

We got settled into our couch around 2 o’clock. We browsed netflix as I attempted to eat some cheese and crackers... not super successful, as I had started to feel a little nauseous at this point. We were about to start a movie when Evan got a call from one of the students in our youth group. “Can I get a ride to the library?” Evan told him no, we were busy, but I persuaded him to go. He would only be gone for 10 minutes, and I could time contractions on my own. Reluctantly, Evan headed out the door.

Almost immediately after he left, I was hit with a contraction that literally knocked me onto the floor. Then 3 minutes later, another. Then 3 minutes later, another. OUCH. I think by this point I was starting to be convinced that I was in labor. Evan still gone, I made a phone call into the hospital to let them know we were probably going to come in. My OB was on the other line. “They hurt, huh?” I could barely squeak out a yes. After hanging up the phone, Evan walks in the door to find me, head down on all fours, on the living room floor. “Thats it! We’re going to the hospital!” He didn’t need to tell me twice.

Thankfully, our hospital bag was already in the car, so he grabbed my purse and helped me to my feet and towards the door. We were in the doorway when my water broke. Better grab a towel for the car. We called our doula on the way to the hospital, who was shocked to hear how quickly I had progressed. After all, just an hour earlier my contractions were still not painful at all. She agreed to meet us at the hospital. We continued to time contractions during the 25-minute drive there. 3 minutes apart, 2 1/2 minutes apart, 2 minutes apart. And PAINFUL. Each one more than the last. By the time we got to the emergency entrance, I could barely waddle a few feet before needing to stop and hunch over a bar along the wall. Evan parked the car while a nice nurse checked me into triage. I was already 5cm dilated. Evan and our doula got to the room right as they were taking me up to Labor and Delivery. It was about 3pm. Contractions continued to progress with more and more intensity as I laid doubled over in the bed. Since I was determined to have this baby naturally, I declined the epidural. I was still feeling pretty confident I could go without.

But my confidence started to waver pretty quickly. Labor progressed so fast that it wasn’t long and I was having only about 30 seconds of rest in between contractions that lasted for over a minute. An hour after checking into the hospital, my contractions had progressed to about 10 seconds in between.

Honestly, this whole part is pretty fuzzy to me. I remember a lot of pain, and thats about it. I remember feeling really dizzy and nauseous at the peak of each contraction. I remember the pain being so intense that I started to shake. I remember forgetting to breathe like I had practiced, and instead screaming at the top of my lungs. I remember my doula trying to recommend other positions, and barely being able to get there because I didn’t have enough rest in between contractions. I remember Evan trying some counter pressure on my back and me screaming at him, “GET OFF ME!” I remember hitting a point where I decided I would much rather be dead. I wanted the epidural, or a gun. Whichever one was available the fastest.

 Suddenly, I felt this incredible need to push. I told Evan that, and our doula ran to get a nurse. We had only been at the hospital for about an hour and a half, so everyone seemed pretty shocked that I was wanting to push already. To their surprise, I was 10cm dilated and ready to push. This was probably the worst part. The part where you can literally feel the baby on the way out and the nurse tells you not to push. How am I supposed to not push?? My body is pushing, with or without me! Thankfully, it only took about 2 contractions for them to get the bed all set up and my OB into the room (But it felt like 20).

Suddenly I was pushing. This was the dramatic scene you see in the movies (how come they never show all the labor leading up to it? The pushing is the easy part!). I had started to hyper-ventilate a bit at this point, so they put me on oxygen as my doctor explained to me how to push. Who knew there were instructions? Its not the same as pooping.

 Suddenly I hear, “Grace, the baby’s heart rate is dropping. She’s still ok, but we need to get her out now.” I was overcome by a fierce, motherly determination and I began to push with far more might than I realized I had in me. It only took about 10 more minutes and she began to crown. Suddenly, my sweet baby’s head emerged. The umbilical chord was wrapped pretty tightly around her neck, but those nurses were so quick. The chord was clamped and cut before she was even all the way out. One more push and I was no longer pregnant. “Its a girl!” Its amazing, suddenly, all the pain was gone. It was 5:05pm. Only two short hours after arriving at the hospital.

 She didn’t cry right away. Due to a really fast labor and not a lot of oxygen, her tiny little body was in a bit of shock. Instead of being able to hold her right away, the nurses took her under the warming lamp and began to suction her mouth and nose and get her to make some noise. Evan ran to her side, while I lay in the bed, staring at my daughter from afar. I didn’t really know how to process what was going on, but I was a little scared.

 Suddenly, a cry. A beautiful, soft, but strong cry. And just a minute later, a tiny little life placed into my arms. I just stared. She was mine. She was healthy and beautiful and perfect and she was mine. 7lb, 5oz, 20 in long. A head FULL of hair.

 The next hour was filled with doctors and stitches and cleaning and all kinds of other stuff that i don’t remember.

 Our lives have never been the same since that day. I would need a whole other blog to begin to touch on the many things I have learned in the past 7 weeks. Things about myself, things about God, things about patience and perseverance and joy.

 Clara Felicity means “bright joy.” We named her this, not only because we love the name, but also because this is our prayer for her life. That she would know deeply rooted, true joy. Not an emotion-filled happy feeling, but deep joy. Joy that can only be found in the hope of the gospel, and the unwavering grace and love of our Father. Clara Felicity, you are such a gift.

The morning of. Walking around, not convinced I was in labor :)

Immediately after she was born. No longer in pain, Evan and I crying tears of intense joy together.

Getting cleaned up.

My sweet girl.

Holding her in my arms for the first time.

Proud daddy :)

Evan was absolutely my rock during labor. So blessed to have him by my side.

Proud mommy :)

The most beautiful baby we'd ever seen. Ever.

playing the waiting game.

Well, here we are at 37 weeks! Anytime between now and 4 weeks from now, a tiny little human will make her way into my arms. Its crazy to think that we are full term... and yet, I could still have a month of all this left! We have started the walking and praying for an earlier-rather-than later delivery. Up until about 4 weeks ago, I had been loving being pregnant (mostly). But now that I have a waddle and the girth of a small house, Im more than ready to be done! God has been so good to us during this pregnancy. Every single appointment has resulted in nothing but a bill of a perfectly healthy little girl growing inside me. Of course, anxiety has found its way into this pregnancy quite often, and its been really amazing to see Gods faithfulness in that as well. He has given me nothing but reminders of His constant love and grace... and slowly but surely I am starting to learn what it means as a mother to surrender your children to the Lord. He created her, formed her, and loves her more than Evan and I ever will. What a blessing to be given the gift of carrying her. I know that my journey with trusting her into the Lords hands has only just began, though. As I sit here on the couch, kankles up on the ottoman, I thought it might be fun to put together a list of all the things Im looking forward to once this sweet girl has left my womb. (It goes without saying that what I am looking forward the most is of course holding her in my arms... this list is specifically pregnancy related).
 Sleeping on my stomach
Sleeping on my back
Fitting into shoes again
Fitting into normal clothes
Standing up without fearing wetting my pants
Sneezing/coughing without fearing wetting my pants
Seeing my feet
Walking without swaying back and forth
Painting my toenails without breaking a sweat
Sushi
Coffee
Getting off the couch on the first try
Getting out of bed on the first try
Getting off the floor without first needing to get onto all fours and sticking my butt in the air
Doing the dishes without getting winded
Walking up stairs without getting winded
Doing my hair without getting winded
Brushing my teeth without getting winded
Doing anything without getting winded
Singing more than a few words at a time
Hugging my husband without bending forward
Cuddling with my husband
 Having an ounce of energy past 10am
 And many more... But these are the ones that are constantly on my mind :) Just a few weeks from now, and this blog will have pictures of our little angel. Until then, I just *patiently* wait for Gods perfect timing.

Pregnant.

Pregant. The word was clear on the little plastic stick, but its been a bit of a process for the reality of that word to sink in. For starters, this pregnancy wasnt "exactly" planned. (It wasnt exactly not planned either, so ill let you figure out what that means). Regardless, it threw Evan and I for a bit of a loop. When we found out in the middle of January, I was barely 5 weeks along. I wasnt feeling pregnant at all, so it was pretty much just a word on a stick at that point. But, since the stick said so, we made an appointment with my doctor to verify. He confirmed the same thing.. although it was just words coming out of his mouth. Take prenatal vitamins, he said. Here are some names for an OBGYN, he said. Another appointment. Scheduled for 8 weeks along. At this point, I had started to feel some of the effects of this parasite living in me, taking away my energy and my appetite. I still didnt think it was possible, though. Surely when we get there, the doctor will say it was all a mistake... there's nothing in there. But when the screen showed a tiny little blob of life with a tiny little flutter in the middle (doctor called it a "heartbeat") I realized that there really was a little life inside of me. I dont know how it got there (well, i do), but it was there. I was so happy. For about a day. Then the fear got really intense. Anxiety has been a struggle of mine for quite some time. It was about a year ago this time that I went on medication, saw a counselor, and began my road to healing. But even the best help in the world doesnt take it away immediately. Being pregnant, i was no longer able to be on my medication. Add in a large dose of pregnancy hormones, plus a whole 'nother life to worry about, and your result is a basket case. (In fact, my poor mother heard the news via panic attack.) Lies from the devil filled my thoughts: "You dont deserve a baby, this one will die. " "There's a 3 percent chance of miscarriage at this point. You are that 3 percent." "Even if your baby manages to make it, it will probably be disabled." I was overwhelmed. Thankfully, im not in the same place i was a year ago. God has been good. Healing has taken place. But its a fight. With medication no longer in the picture to fall back on, all I was left with to fight with was Truth. I say that as if its some sort of puny weapon... Truth is the ultimate protection against the devil's lies. I just need to fully embrace its availability to me. The devil is powerful and sneaky, but my LORD has ultimate victory. I have returned to my counselor, and am anticipating yet another year of growth. Which, is hard. But always worth the work. In the meantime, our baby is growing and developing healthily :) Our 12 week appointment revealed a very healthy, active little human, with a storng heartbeat, and all crucial body parts right where they should be. Now at 14 weeks, my energy and appetite is back, and my belly has made a very sudden but welcome entrance. I have resorted to yoga pants, and retired the jeans for good. Before getting pregnant, I wasnt sure how i would mentally handle all the weight gain... but I have to admit Im rather in love with this little bump on my front :) I covet your prayers more than anything else. For the healthy development of our baby, yes. But more than that, for my increased trust in the One who not only holds my life, but that of my unborn child.

all consuming fire

The Lord is a consuming fire. I think i have an accurate picture of just how comsuming that is. In the last couple days, entire neighborhoods and so many homes have been engulfed. Including one belonging to some dear friends of ours. For the time being, where we are is safe from the fires, but with the weather conditions as they are... there's no saying what these fires are capable of. I cant help but put myself in the place of so many people who have been evacuated from their homes. A few minutes to grab some important items and you're out... not knowing if you will ever enter your home again. The question i keep asking myself is: "What would i grab?" Sure, I thought of a few things that might be important to have. Passports, birth certificates, wedding pictures, maybe some tax documents, and our cat. But then my mind drew a blank. My eyes scanned our apartment and did not land on a single thing i couldnt live without. Furniture, decorations, electronics, books. I have a closet FULL of clothes and shoes. None of them are things that i HAVE to have (although Evan might disagree with me on the books part). The point is, i was suddenly convicted of my greed and materialism. How much i love shopping and having new stuff, how much i complain about lack of money, how much i find my identity in my appearance and the appearance of my home. Now, i dont think that Im supposed to stop caring about everything we own. God has blessed us with good gifts, and we are supposed to be good stewards of them. Im supposed to take care of my body, my belongings, my home. But to place my identity in them is sinful. Stuff is stuff. It is not eternal. Especially in many parts of CO these days. Just a good reminder of what i need to place my value in.

road back to hope.

my hope in writing this is to encourage those going through the same thing, as well as to challenge the stigma attached to so-called "mental disorders" and therapy.

I havent blogged in quite a while. This has nothing to do with a lack of time, but rather a lack of words to say, and even more so a lack of courage to be honest. But now the time has come, and its amazing to even expereince myself sharing all that i am about to.

What i have expereinced in the last 6 months is really no stranger to any of us. At least, if we are completely honest with ourselves. And to some degree or another, i would admit that, in my life thus far, it is not necessarily something totally new or surprising. But what i will also admit that i have never expereinced it in such a crippling capacity as i have the last 6 months. What is it?

Anxiety.

Gripping, darkening, reality-shaking, hope-destroying anxiety. The kind that appears so suddenly you are taken completely off-guard and instantly find yourself living a small, self-consumed box where you lie in wait for some tragedy to occur. The Lord has been so gracious, that at this point, i cant even remember all of my symptoms. All i know is that i was afraid of everything. Every cold meant i had cancer, every time i couldnt get a hold of my husband meant he was dead, and every bill we recieved in the mail meant that we were doomed to become homeless.

Initially, i was in denial about the whole thing. After all, i had two good reasons to be immune to such anxiety. One: I had my degree in counseling. I knew all about anxiety disorders, all about how they present themselves... i had written papers on the very thing i was experiencing. Surely someone who had a degree in helping someone else through anxiety couldnt experience it themselves. Two: I am a Christian. I "knew" that God was sovereign and faithful and loved me and such... everything that I am supposed to say. If i knew so much about God, why was i afraid of Him?

My denial worked for a little while.. until the panic attacks came on. You really cant know the scariness of what they are like until you have one. But essentially, i had lost control. I knew it was time for help. So, after much prayer and getting a recommendation from our pastor, I made an appointment with a Christian Counselor. She was kind, caring, compassionate, listened to all i had to say, and suggested the very thing i feared the most:

Medication.

Now let me just state something quickly: I am not anti-medication. Through my study of abnormal psychology I have taken the time to process and formulate my opinions about using medication to even out brain chemistry and aid in mental disorders. I would have no problem recommending it to someone else.. but not me. After all, medication was for crazy people. And yet, there was no denying that something had a firm hold on my ability to think clearly. And at this point, i guess i was willing to try anything. And so, the next day i found myself picking up a prescription for anti-anxiety drugs. Me.

As the days and weeks passed, i found myself getting better. In my counseling sessions, i processed through many years of hurt. I renounced Satan's hold on me. I explored my fear of God's sovereignty, re-discovered His love for me, and heard His voice more clearly than i had in years. I felt safe and secure and untouchable in His arms.

Let me make something very clear: medication did not cure me. But what it DID do, was clear my mind enough to make me capable of processing. Capable of discovering and repairing the root of my anxiety. I finally feel free of bondage.

I learned many things through this process:
1. God will do whatever it takes to bring you back around. I had grown so apathetic in my faith, it took me getting to a place of absolute brokeness to fall back in love with my Savior. And im thankful for it.
2. Medication and Therapy does not make you crazy. We all deal with anxiety, depression, and other issues to one degree or another. Its time we are honest and stop being afraid to talk to someone.
3. Vulnerable = strong. I swore i would never tell anyone about what i was going through. I was embarrassed and ashamed. And yet, here i am. My family knows, my close friends know, and now everyone who reads my blog knows (so... two more people). Being willing to share and ask for prayer and support was key in my healing.
4. I am not fixed. Anxiety will continue to be a struggle for me. Fears still come. the difference is that they no longer have control over me. I am safe in the arms of my Savior.

Psalm 86:4-7
Gladden the soul of your servant,
for to you, O Lord, do I lift up my soul.
For you, O Lord, are good and forgiving,
abounding in steadfast love to all who call upon you.
Give ear, O Lord, to my prayer;
listen to my plea for grace.
In the day of my trouble I call upon you,
for you answer me.