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Pendulum

Boy, where do I start this time?

I think I will just be sporadic, with excerpts from an email to dear friends, and some thoughts I want to write about while they are fresh. This post may not be for the faint of heart... grab a cup of tea before reading on.

I woke up at 6 this morning to some bleeding (not much, but definitely enough to know it was blood). I felt a trickle as I woke up, and more as I stood. I used the toilet and confirmed what I felt. I sat in the bathroom and breathed out loud, "okay..." My head and my heart began to race. We already had scheduled the Dr.'s first appointment of the day, so I got in the shower to pray, cry, and prepare for the day. I prayed that God would walk closely with me. I prayed that God would receive Evelyn with sweet music and roses. I told God how afraid I was of the coming hours, and most fervently I prayed that God would prepare my husband to hear of my bleeding (he was still asleep). After my shower I told Josh, and took some time to snuggle my sleepy almost-3-yr-old. I called the on-call doctor to see whether we should go to our appointment or straight to the hospital. She told me that unless I was bleeding heavily, to go to the appointment and make decisions from there with our doctor. I did my makeup (with shaking hands), packed my bag and an overnight bag for my boys.

On the way to the doctor I felt all kinds of things. I felt sick to my stomach, still a little shaky, I felt cramps, I felt on the verge of awful pain- both in my heart and in my body. Josh and I called and texted all the people we felt we needed to- arranging our support people, and the plans for our boys. Dr. Hulton got right with us- took my blood pressure, and prepared for her in-office ultrasound. I had stopped bleeding. My blood pressure was normal (grateful!), and I laid on the table for the ultrasound. I felt blank inside as she put the gel on my skin, and turned on the machine. We could see Evelyn's little head, and then... we saw her heartbeat. It was slow, very slow: 58 beats per minute. (normal range is 120-160). Honestly, we were shocked that her little heart is still fighting. Dr. Hulton checked again, and her heart rate sped up to 122. She checked my cervix and nothing seemed abnormal. What a strange pendulum we have been experiencing. This morning I thought Evelyn was gone, and yet we are back home, awaiting God's next move.

We are fighting hard to hold on to truth: God knows. God cares. God loves us beyond our imagination. God is in control. God is not out to crush us.

Pray, as we endure.

I still feel cramping, but not enough to be alarmed. For now we are just breathing, waiting, praying...

I saw a picture of me a few weeks ago, taken when I was 6 months pregnant with Jonathan. I had this perfect, tight, basketball-shaped belly. Today, almost 6 months along, I have an odd, squishy, low bump. It feels so strange. If I'm in the cold for very long, the tissue under my skin feels oddly a little chilly. When I feel that, I feel so empty. I feel strange, carrying around mostly useless tissue. I feel confused, helpless as my Momma instincts are kept at arm's length. If my daughter was out of the womb and dying, I would spend every waking moment at her side, holding her hand, looking at her, verbally telling her my love and God's love. Instead, I go about my days, doing normal things but feeling so not normal. I can't feel normal, knowing my daughter is in the process of dying inside me. I feel at a loss, not even knowing moment by moment, if she is still alive...

I don't know if I've written about this yet or not, but I had a hunch from the very beginning that something was not right. I had a few dreams, and a few wisps of thoughts, "what if this baby is not okay... what if we lose this one...". Thoughts like that are very much not my personality, and I had no reason to be thinking that way, with two healthy little boys running around. As we approached our gender-revealing ultrasound I knew I needed to deal with the fear I was feeling. I came to one of our pastors' wife, and told her what had been on my heart. She prayed with me, and told me a piece of her story: one of her daughters was a "high risk" pregnancy, and is today completely normal! After we heard the news about Evelyn's condition, she told me that she had lost her last baby, to a very similar condition at 20 weeks. I'm so grateful for her through this- seeing that she survived, and soaking in both her identification of my pain, and her words of truth. As things progressed, and our network of people joined us in prayer, a flood of connections has come to me. Some of you have passed on stories to me: both your own, and of friends who have similar experiences. Thank you for sharing all that with me. Hearing and reading others' stories has directed my heart on the right path: Hope, in the God that walks with me. Not necessarily hope in a miracle, but hope in the knowledge of the kind of God He is. I don't know what God is doing with the pendulum I'm on, but: He loves us, OH HOW HE LOVES US. I cling to that!

Comments

  1. You and your family...especially baby Evelyn Rose...are truly loved by not only me and so many, but by God! Feel blessed that God has entrusted you with a very fragile and beautiful baby girl! That he knew that YOU all would stand firm by Him and trust Him in all of this and hold to the knowledge that He will NEVER leave your side through any of this! So many praying and hoping for a miracle...but if not a miracle to the human eye...then in the super natural...all Glory will be our Lord Jesus Christ's! Love you guys!

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  2. It has been an honor to walk this out with you and Josh, wondering what any of your today's would bring. Of course we know that God's hand is upon her and all of you. I wish I was one who lived in reality, but my faith goes up TO the throne and quotes God's word's back to Him. I don't ask for miracles, I expect them! Not in arrogance but because my faith does not know how to expect anything less than God's best. I am so sorry for your pain and everything that goes with it. As Krsity said, there will be a miracle, either in this world or the heaven's but there WILL be one.
    Anna and Josh, you teach all of us a lot.
    Thank you.

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  3. I have only met you a couple of times, but I am deeply moved by your experience, and we are related. I will be praying for you and Josh through this experience. God is more powerful and loving and gracious than we ever know until He walks with us through the very hard times. May God hold you closely these days.

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