The first day of the rest of our lives..

That drive to Houston had to be the longest drive of my entire life. We tried to have small talk to make the time pass quickly but it didn't seem to help. We arrived at the clinic and were escorted to a counseling room where the table was so big I felt like a child sitting at it. We waited in silence for our doctor to enter the room with our results. She walked in, sat down and began explaining a bunch of medical what I like to call mumbo jumbo. After she finished she summed it up in human words. Apparently on some blood tests it had come back that I carried Lupus antibodies in my blood without having active lupus. Which meant I essentially had what doctors deem as APS Antiphospholipic Syndrome. Which meant my blood clotted too freely and they termed it "sticky blood." Which meant that each time I got pregnant the little vessels required to a placenta sometimes formed incorrectly which was causing me to lose my pregnancies. She said women can sometimes carry babies with APS but its a very high death rate in babies. She said without treatment each of my pregnancies would have a 75-80% "failure" rate. Luckily she said with treatment I would have a much better chance of carrying a baby to term. 

As we left the clinic I felt an array of emotions sweep over me. I felt relief that I finally had answers but also fear and apprehension over the future. I grieved for all the babies I had once cradled in my womb that suffered a silent death for something none of us knew existed, I felt anger that someone didn't find this sooner and my babies had to die to find out, and lastly I felt joy. Pure joy that with my odds I had one healthy little curly headed 3 year old who was safe and sound. It was at that moment it became crystal clear that Caed was a pure miracle that he was carried to term without treatment and lived. 

The next several years seemed to fly by for me. It didn't take long after testing for me to become pregnant yet again. I was treated with blood thinners and hormones and although I was very anxious and emotionally a wreck the entire pregnancy, I only had mild actual health problems which included  mild placenta detachment early on and preterm labor. At 37 weeks, Our second daughter Emery Ann-Marie entered this world. She was 6lb 1oz and had a head full of beautiful black curly hair. 


Emy's birth helped me heal in alot of ways. For me to actually hold my daughter and hear her cry and listen to her breaths was so bittersweet. I ached for my daughter in heaven but was so thankful God had finally given me a daughter here on earth too. 

                       Emy a few hours old

                       Always smiling, Emy 7mo. 

                                                     Learning to fly a kite
                
Another several years passed, my husband and I finally decided that our family was complete. We decided that we had one beautiful son, one beautiful daughter and with my health conditions it was just too dangerous to try and have more children. That's when we began to pursue adoption. I think back to that and know we were doing exactly what we were supposed to be doing. I'm not sure why but God wanted our hearts soft toward adoption and that's just what happened. We were about 8 weeks into the process of adoption and had just got our home visit cleared when unexpectedly we found out I was pregnant. 


I wasn't sure how to feel about this pregnancy. I never got over the awkward answers at the doctors offices. The ones where they drill you with "how many pregnancies you have." It was like relieving the past each time. Having to answer, "Yes this is my 6th pregnancy." I was overwhelmed with fear, and sadness.  For some reason I felt great despair because I was just sure that I was going to lose another baby. I was advised I needed to see a high risk obstetrician this time around and look into delivering at a hospital with a Level II NICU. Since I was older and with my condition each pregnancy got more and more risky. This time 33 weeks into my pregnancy my OB informed me that my water was gone, our daughter's placenta was malfunctioning and basically dead and her activity had deteriorated.  My mind instantly went back to losing Maddison, it was around the same week gestation and her movement had slowed just before her death. Our miracle baby Quinn Addison-Mae was born by emergency c-section nearly 8 weeks early. She weighed just 4lb 7oz and she had just a few setbacks and spent a month in NICU before coming home. She completed my family in my heart. She was the miracle I wanted in my heart but didn't think I could handle going through a pregnancy again, God knew different and I'm so thankful He did. My life wouldn't of been complete without her. 

                      Quinn a few hours old 

                     Early days in NICU 

                     Finally made it home!

Our doctor informed us that he was positive that was how we lost our first daughter, my placenta had malfunctioned due to my disorder and she lost her oxygen and nutrients. It still to this day pains my heart to know that Maddison was essentially starved and suffocated by my own body and that is how she died. But each day I look at my children God has given me here on earth and it makes me so thankful. I try not to live feeling sorry for myself or for my loss and hardships but rather I try to remember that through pain comes refinement. It makes us stronger. I have learned that through my pain and loss it has ultimately made me a better mother, a better wife and a better person. 


Some days are better than others of course,.. some days I feel the void of loss so clear it feels as sharp as knives. Other days I find contentment and understanding that in this world there will be pain I will never understand. I learn to take each day at a time and when I find me getting wrapped up in the worries of life I try and remember what a gift it truly is. I remember that my journey to have a family wasn't ever easy, it was painful, joyful and trying. I didn't have those joyous pregnancies with nothing on my mind besides pickles and ice cream. I spend day after day worrying, fretting, reading, counting kicks, praying and hoping. 


I know there are alot of people out there that have walked or either will walk in my same shoes. They have suffered the pain of losing a baby and know what I'm talking about how pregnancy is after losing a child. 

I heard an analogy once about a pitcher. If I took a glass pitcher and threw it on the ground, it would shatter. We could take that pitcher and glue it back together but it would never quite hold water like it did before. That's what happens to you when you lose a child. You are shattered, you glue yourself back together but you are never again quite as functional as you are before. We are the shattered pieces and Jesus becomes our glue. We may still be able to somewhat function but we will never ever be quite the same. Because once you are shattered it is done. You will always carry the scars of being broken.