Today I have been informed in many different ways that it is National day of remembrance for pregnancy and infant loss. I have shared my story time and time again but I want to take a moment and remember with you our story/ies and where we are now.
On July 8, 2005 (23 weeks pregnant) my water broke (I had no idea that's what was going on; this was our first child). I was in the restroom doing restroom business at this time so nothing "abnormal" seemed to be going on except I thought my bladder went numb for a minute or two as I was hearing fluid but not really "feeling" anything. I carried on about my day and on into the next even attempting an outting with some girlfriends in spite of some back pains I was having. Later that evening I went out to eat with my mother, who was in town for a visit, and my husband. I started feeling real faint and weird to say the least. I asked if we could just go home (not having touched any of my food). We went home and after some severe convincing that I would be fine my mother drove back home. About 30 minutes later my back was hurting so severely that I could not sit still. My husband called our good friend whom works in ER and has two children of her own and she told him to get me straight to L&D that I was in labor. They checked me and told me that I was just having braxton hicks contractions (and that I was not worth their time basically with the attitude I received). So they made me sign a paper stating that if she was born this night that they would do nothing to save her because in their books she is not "viable" until 24 weeks gestation.... BOY I sure hope the dr.s calculations were correct in assuming I was only 23 weeks. That is a fine line when you are about to dismiss a life. So I made them explain to me why they were telling me to sign the paper and why they were telling me that I was in fact not going to deliver our daugher this night, or soon even. After much prompting I signed. The dr. attending was not my normal dr. I got STUCK with an on call dr. who... well let's just say I have not really cared for him every since he treated me the way he treated me. Again like I was not worth their time.
The next morning 6:01 AM Olivia Grace Wachsmann was born into this world kicking and squirming trying to survive while all the personnel did was watch. She in fact lived about 30 minutes while we all held and kissed our sweet, precious daughter. She finally passed in our arms. I watched her take her last attempt at breath and fall still. I will never forget the feeling of having to put on the same clothes that surrounded a baby in my womb just days before and now they were too big and awkward looking to any passerby. I hated the feeling of having to go home empty and face the "welcome home baby" room and furniture that would never know it's would-have-been occupant. The hurt was deep, too deep to share and still to this day I carry a scar from sweet little OLIVIA.
We felt the calling still to "start our family". I was very hesitant for fear of failure and more pain. We conceived in Sept of 05 and I carried until 17 weeks, again, middle of the night I go to the restroom ( all you mommies know this night time, have to pee routine)... well I felt the gush of fluid this time and recognized it for what it was. My fears come to live life in my face. I woke my husband and told him of the experience I just had but would wait til morning to call our dr. to get checked out. (As most of you know I hate taking up peoples time and have just always felt in the way so I did not want to go to the ER and be in their way with my "problems"). I went to the dr. the next morning and he checked my cervix. He said I was not dialated, he was not concerned. Then he went on to do an US and found that there was no fluid around the baby... (ummm right I told you that it all leaked out last night on the toilet). So on to the dumpy hospital full of rude people I go. I wait for my husband to get there and be by my side as I am getting cold stares from the nurses and comments are flying like hot embers through the air landing directly on their mark.... ME! Ohhhh I still get flustered when I think of them up there. Don't get me too wrong there were a select 1 (maybe 5) that were pleasant and treated me like I was a mother losing her child. Needless to say I was in the hospital for a couple days and the dr. sent me home with meds to fight off infection. Next day back to the hospital we went.. I was indeed in labor and so we went to the only place we knew to go, L&D. The nurse that night corrected that thought by way of bluntly stating that we should have gone to the ER b/c they could do nothing for me in L&D... I simply said "would you like me to go down there then"... well i guess I should have never stirred that pot because it boiled over with "it's too late now you are already up here!" I am sooooo sorry to have jumped in here and disturbed your latest issue of Broom sticks of the moth... next time I will call to see what your agenda is before going into preterm labor!!!!!! (blow it off Bri.... you will never see her again God willing!) okay... composure. SO! I had our son Samuel David on Feb 11th at 17 weeks. He of course could not and not did not survive .
Our third child, second daughter, was born on Dec 5th 2006, she was 21 weeks. My water did not break this time due to a cerclage that was done in my 17th week (they stitched my cervix shut)... oh did I mention I switched dr's at this point... The other one kept telling me "this just happens"... hmmmm not on my watch it doesn't and you are never going to get the opportunity of telling me that cheap line again. So this new dr. was a high-risk pregnancy dr and walked very slowly by my side the whole time... explaining everything I had concerns of. I went in when I had concerns about feeling like the baby's foot was all but short of kicking the couch cushion i was sitting on. She had me come in and did an US and discovered that my cervix was ballooning on top of the cerclage and the baby's foot was in that balloon kicking at the cerclage. (I knew I was almost ready to go buy her a pair of shoes and just deal with an extra growth for a little while.)... Needless to say my water had not broken this time because of the cerclage so there was still hope. (BTW this US day was already scheduled to find out the sex of the baby... HA! good thing we were nosy and had to know)... So she sent me straight to the hospital to keep me on meds and strict bed rest. YUCK! to say the least. I am way too active for bed rest.... So there I sat completely tilted the WRONG way in an attempt to keep our little girl up higher. She however was stubborn (that was my girl Ü) and wanted to join the party... eventually the stitches ripped through and I started dialating more. I was at a 6cm when I was put on some heavy duty kick-you-in-the-other-knee kind of medicine... if you have ever had Magnesium Sulfate you will know this is the stuff your momma warned you about. It is no joke... I felt like my head was going to start spinning and I was going to vomit green stuff everywhere (hey I haven't always been a Christian... my parents were stupid enough to let me watch that scary stuff when I was young... WHAT ON EARTH WERE THEY THINKING???) Okay so Exorcist over, now I was in a medicine induced coma or so it felt like... Days elapsed in real time and to me I was just still there, Barely! I caught pneumonia from being on "my head" and on this medicine that barely allows you to breathe. So they brought me down from the meds a little so I could get the pneumonia to back off. It worked. Then I started having contractions again and I was put back under the strong arm of the Mag... eventually there was nothing more that could be done... I had fully dialated and our precious daughter Ymali "Emma" Jane Wachsmann was born.
I have failed you in the way of explaining that in the beginning of all my pregnancies I always had dreams that they would die. They would either be cold and I could not warm them or I would see them needing me and I could not get to them to rescue them... and the last dream was that there was blood when I went into the restroom (which was weird to me b/c there has never been blood...well not in the beginning of the labor)... except the last baby when the stitches tore through my cervix... there was blood and I screamed from the hospital bathroom because I could, again, see my dream coming to pass.
There have been many ways that the Lord has used these trials to make us stronger... there have been many things that have made us weaker. I am not wavering in my faith... I know God is REAL and I know He is good ALL THE TIME... but my heart is scared to run to HIM in fear that He is going to allow everyone I love to leave me and I will be left empty yet again. I have gotten the wonderful opportunity to mother 3 boys (foster) one of which we are pursuing adoption... the others have been taken. I am afraid to pray (I do anyway because I know I am supposed to and as weak and feeble as my prayers are when I bring them to the Cross, I know the response will always be "My beautiful Daugter I am here; I know your pain, I was with you every day and through it all! I am still here! Come to me, know Me, feel ME, Tell me your heart." I cannot. I simply cannot God! My heart hurts and it is tired. I pray for everyone and everything that I feel led to with faith that you will hear my prayers and heal, restore, bless, save, captivate, refresh, comfort.... them. But for me I feel that if I let go of the pain and turmoil that He will again take our son from us (yes the one that is not really ours at the moment). I feel that God will allow him to be taken from us as all the others have been.
I share this post not to have you feel sorry for us but to ask you to simply pray for our family. We have seen some deep valleys and some days I feel they are overtaking me and I cannot climb out. I wanted to share with you my story so that you may know me better and get a feel for our life and why we have been drawn to foster/adoption.... I was a mother without a baby and I wanted to mother a baby without a mommy! I need them and they need me.
I will end on this...The day before I went into labor with our first child I asked God to give me a scripture to meditate on that day... I felt a strong leading to Isaiah 54:1-3 (which I had never really "read" before, but when I did I kind of laughed because here I was 6 months pregnant hmmmmm... Childless God? Now I know)..
"Sing, O childless woman! Break forth into loud and joyful song even though you never gave birth to a child. For the woman who could bear no chldren now has more than all the other women," says the Lord. "Enlarge your house; build an addition; spread out your home" For you will soon be bursting at the seams. Your descendants will take over other nations and live in their cities." I hold fast to that promise He gave me that day!
We moved from our small house in town to be in the country and it just happened to be a BIGGER HOUSE! As soon as we did we received our first child 3 weeks later, our second 5 months later, and our third 1 month after that (just for the record we now only have the one Ü). I see now that through the power of adoption, fostering (and possibly childbirth... who but God knows what's to come) we will raise up ALL OF OUR children to be warriors and to take over nations and dwell in those lands. It is a real good thing that we go to a church that is mission driven!!! God is good all the time!
It drives me crazy to think that had we our own little ones we would never have gotten the privelege to parent our BEAR, Moe, and Iggy!!!! Wow.. to think! Thanks for hanging in there with me. I do treasure you all!
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