Basking

This summer is flying by, but we are trying our hardest to savor every minute. Trying to balance the "to do" lists and errands with the fun and memorable. Trying to let go of the schedule a little and enjoy the sunshine for as long as it lasts.

Lately, I am finding joy in the every day, especially as I look at these two little girls grow more and more in love with each other. They are truly best friends, and their relationship is something they created on their own. Somehow, their relationship makes me more complete, and it makes every hard day worth it.

The three of us -- "the girls" as Jeff calls us -- we are a package deal. And I love that. They drive me crazy, yes, but they also amaze me and inspire me and love me for all that I am (and all I am not).

When I look at them -- at us -- I am happy. Often frustrated, always exhausted, and sometimes overwhelmed...but happy. And to think we get to add another girl to our "package" makes me happier. I know it makes them happier too.

(*P.S.: "Power - Part 2" later this week...)

Power

Let me be honest for a minute. If you would have asked me a year ago about the "power of prayer," you would have gotten some luke-warm response from me. Yes, I KNOW it's important. I know God tells us to do it. And of course I have done it many, many, many times for those I love and those I barely know because, well, that's what you do when something bad happens. You pray for someone. (Or you at least offer to pray.)

For me, prayer had always been one of those "I need to do more" things, and like most people, it was often a clear reflection my relationship with God. It definitely needed some help. I meant to pray more -- to actually follow through on my promises to people -- but sometimes I just plain forgot, got too busy...or fell asleep.

And even when I did pray, did I truly believe my prayers were making a difference? I mean God is God, and He is going to do what He is going to do. Was I just getting another jewel in my crown because I remembered to do it, or was I actually having some sort of impact on the lives I was praying for? I honestly don't know what I thought. In fact, I never really thought that much about it all.

Now, however, I will boldly tell you that there is absolute power in prayer. I know it because I have felt it pulse through my heart. I have felt it zap away tears and energize a broken spirit. I have seen it literally move legs and ignite hope like never before. Trust me, there is power in prayer.

Ever since we found out about Brooklyn's condition, I have been amazed at the amount of prayer and support we've received. I'll never forget an email Jeff got from a woman we didn't even know after I sent out our first prayer request email. Not only did this complete stranger offer us love and encouragement (and prayer), a simple scroll down showed that she had received our email after 3 forwards. Jeff and I were in total awe.

The cards, the letters, the emails, the blog and FB comments...each one has meant more than you know. And when you say you are praying for our baby, I believe you and I am truly and eternally grateful. Prayer is literally all we can offer our baby right now, so we have no problem asking for it. Pride has no place in your life when your child's health is concerned. We will do whatever it takes for her.

*****

Soooooo...this is all leading up to two absolutely amazing prayer experiences I had in the last 2 weeks. Today I'll tell you about the first one.

Two Sundays ago, my sister-in-law and mother-in-law threw me a prayer shower. The invite list only included close family and a few church friends. I honestly had no idea what a "prayer shower" was and although I was so very thankful for the gesture, I was a little nervous about being the center of attention. I mean it's one thing when people are coming to rub your belly and say congrats, but it's completely different when people are coming to rub your belly with tears in their eyes and have no idea what to say. But it wasn't like that at all. It was A M A Z I N G.

After a beautiful lunch, my sister-in-law asked everyone to sit in a circle of chairs. She had everyone bring words of encouragement (bible verses, sayings, prayers, etc.) they prepared on a card that she put in a keepsake book. She invited people to read their card, to pray out loud if they felt led, or to just share their heart. There was no pressure and we didn't go around the circle. People just prayed and shared if they felt comfortable, and I have never been so touched in my entire life. There were tears, yes, but not because we were sad. It was just emotional and touching and
P O W E R F U L.

There is no doubt that God was in that room with us, and I felt absolutely blessed that I got to be the Mommy of such a little angel. A precious life that had managed to bring all of these people together to talk to God before she was even born. Bring all of us closer to Him...and to each other. One little life, so many prayers. SO MUCH POWER.

After we were finished, I stood in the center of the room, and everyone laid hands on my belly or just stood around me. My sister-in-law asked everyone to pray one very specific silent prayer in their hearts for Brooklyn, for me, or for our family. It didn't take long before those prayers were no longer silent and we were once again praising and asking and trusting. My heart was lifted, my love tank "filled," and my doubts and fears eased. Total and complete peace washed over me. Again and again and again.

Did I deserve all of this? No. But I will take it. All of it. For my baby and for His glory.

This was no ordinary shower. There was no registry, no pictures, no Baby Bingo, no pink safety pins to steal from your neighbor. There was no huge guest list (although we had enough dessert to feed hundreds!) and no obligatory "I have to go." I truly believe that those who were meant to be there were there, and God used them in a very powerful way. Everyone should have one of these. Seriously.

There were a few small thoughtful gifts, but most were opened after I got home. Nothing about this shower was superficial or worldly. This was about all about God.




I will forever treasure this experience, the keepsake book that will surely get me through the toughest of days, and every word that was spoken for my daughter, my family, and for me. And for those words that were unspoken, I will trust those to God. I know He will use them in an amazing way.

There is power in prayer. Not only because of how absolutely empowered I was after this experience, but because what happened in the days following. And it wasn't what you think.

Not that I'm trying to keep you hanging, but I realize that this post is getting long enough, and I have even more to say about experience #2. I will tell you that Brooklyn's condition appears to be the same, but I will also tell you that there a lot more hope around here lately. Keep praying.

Uplifted, A Haiku

What an amazing week. There is a spiritual war going on around here, and after tonight, God is totally winning. So much to share -- about Brooklyn, about prayer -- but I don't quite have the time or energy tonight, but I will. I have to. I promise.

For now, I leave you with a haiku I wrote earlier this week thanks to the encouragement of my blogging friend Stephanie. It sums up what I experienced -- not once, but TWICE! -- in the last 5 days. Absolutely amazing.
 
Hands on my belly
Silence. (Tears) Warmth. Peace. Power!
Strength for tomorrow

Foto Friday: Twirl

I am by no means a photographer and my camera probably deserves the ridicule of anyone who knows anything about capturing a good shot, but lately I have been intrigued by photography and have made it a goal to try and capture moments when I feel happiness oozing from my little ladies. I even ditched JC Penney and set up an on-location photo session with a real photographer last weekend for our family photos -- and boy do I have some AMAZING shots to share. But first I have to narrow down my 70 favorites to about 10...so you'll see them in about a year. ;)

Until then, here are a few I snapped during one of the many daily dance parties that happen around here. Dresses and skirts are the clothing of choice for my girls (besides Kendall's bathing suit, but that's a whole other story...). However, there is one very important criteria...they must T.W.I.R.L.

If they don't, well, they might just as well be pants.

So while the shots from this past weekend may have some fabulous shots of pink twirling dresses and an adoring Daddy, these will have to do for now. Happy Friday everyone!

And, of course, there is always time for a quick pose or two...

Brooklyn Update: On the Move

Today's non-stress test and ultrasound were mostly low-key with no dramatics.

(That is, if you don't count my hormonal breakdown in the middle of the OB office when I realized I got my appointment time wrong and they wanted me to reschedule. Needless to say, my tears and a whole lot of begging still got me in before noon. We even made a new 3.75-hour appointment time record!)

So besides that, Miss Brooklyn cooperated, and we passed our non-stress test. Our ultrasound, however, showed that she is indeed a busy bee and is back to a breech position. Yes, she managed to do a complete 180 in the last 3 weeks, so we may be back to that C-section after all. Only time will tell if our wiggle worm will go back "into position" or if she's ready to stay put.

The good news is that she is clearly moving around just fine in there. Plus, my mind has now been "prepped" for either type of delivery, so it's in God's hands. He knows which is the safest delivery route for her, and I am happy to do either. At this point, I just want her to be born so I can hold her! (Although a prayer or two for her to wiggle back would be nice... :)

Her ventricles were measuring a little larger (which helps determine the amount of excess fluid in her brain), but the increases were small and were in line with normal growth. Both ventricles are at about 21 mm. So while we have surpassed the dreaded 20-mm mark -- which some say is cause for concern -- we are trusting that God will protect Brooklyn's brain. However, please keep praying for the fluid to decrease. How awesome would it be to see that miracle happen?!

She is still a little peanut (about a week behind "schedule") but is up to 4 lbs and 7 oz. She is facing away from my belly, which means her spine is literally pressed up against my belly button for the whole world to bump into. I swear this child wants to give me more gray hair. But then again, she fits right in with her big sisters. We make them spunky around here!

My next OB appointment is next week, but I have no idea when I will have another ultrasound. I did manage to get a quick profile shot out of the technician this time, but I didn't want to push it since I was already on borrowed time.



(In case you can't make it out, the photo shows her looking up -- you can see her nose, lips, chin and little bit of her chest. That may be her arm over her head...not sure.)

So that's the latest. Keep praying, please! Only 5 more weeks to go!

To The Man in Our Lives

Happy Father's Day to a man who would literally do anything for his girls, whether that means putting on some Mickey ears, making holiday crafts, whipping up pancakes every Saturday morning, or reading Fancy Nancy fifteen times in the course of a week.

A man who is more than a father, but a Daddy that will kiss the owies and get right in there and be a part of their little lives.

A man who I completely trust with the precious hearts of our girls.

I love you, sweetie, for the man that you are to our children and to me. We are so very blessed to have you as the only man in our lives!

Drama Queen

Did you know that an OB appointment can last 7 hours? No really. You didn't? Well, it can.

Did you know you could turn that harmless appointment into a fun-filled trip to labor and delivery, complete with a call to your hubby to get his butt downtown a.s.a.p.? You know, just for kicks...

And did you know you can then top it all off by driving home in 2 hours of Chicago traffic during rush hour when there is a complete downpour?

Oh, yes, yes, you can.

That, my friends, was my Tuesday.

And, yes, I would REALLY like some WINE with that whine. Please, please have a glass for me. Or two. ;)

Now, first of all, let me say that everything is totally fine and that the drama here is totally intended. (But, of course, we all know there is at least a smiggin' of truth in sarcasm.)

Anywho...

Needless to say, Tuesday's appointment wasn't as "uneventful" as we had hoped. Well, in the end it was (a blessing, I know!), but not without some drama.

I really, really hate drama. I try to avoid it at all costs, but I'm afraid I'm turning into a drama queen. Seriously. I've never even broken a bone, but now? Well, I feel like it's always something.

And it's not like a "poor, poor me" kinda thing -- honestly. It's more like a "this is getting embarrassing because I need you to now watch my kids for 7 hours because I can't seem to sit on a fetal monitor without something fluke-ish happening" kinda thing. I mean really?

So here's what happened: I went for a typical OB appointment (no ultrasound), which started with a stress (NST) test. I got downtown in record time, so I was feeling really good that we were going to break our current 5-hour minimum: NST, pee, weight, belly measure, and see ya next week!

Notsomuch.

I was hooked up to the NST machine, chatting away with my nurse while Miss Brooklyn was happily displaying her latest moves via line graph, when BEEP, BEEEEP, BEEEEEEP!!!!

Nurse runs out; another runs in. Doctor comes in. "Turn on your right side. Turn on your left."

Chaos, chaos, chaos.

"Turn back over and let's get that heartbeat again."

No more BEEEEEEPS! Just beep, beep.

Calm.

Me: "What just happened?"

New female OB I had just met who looked like she was straight out of Grey's Anatomy: "Your baby's a bit of a trouble maker. Her heart rate dropped significantly for a while there, but she looks fine now. We just want to monitor you over at labor and delivery for a few hours. We'll do your OB exam over there."

Me: "Uh, okay."

So I call Jeff and waddle across the street to triage, call my absolutely angelic sister-in-law babysitter, get hooked up again, and snooze until my now-stressed hubby arrives. Oh joy.

Brooklyn is fine, but yes, she is a trouble maker. It appears that she decided to grab hold of the umbilical cord and give it a good squeeze, which made her heart rate plummet just enough to freak us all out.

But all is well now.

She is moving plenty, and I feel fine. And this grabbing thing? Well, it doesn't surprise me. I swear this girl has a hold on my bladder and squeezes it any time she feels the need for a good laugh...and lately, that is quite often. :)

I too can laugh about it all now, but I'll admit it wore on me a little Tuesday night after I finally got the girls to bed and I was waiting for Jeff to get home from his second trip into work...ya know, at 9pm.

But we all need a good cry now and then, right? And thank goodness I decided to give in and buy that heavenly bag of chocolate the night before when I went grocery shopping. Now THAT was a God-send for sure.

So there's some more drama for ya'll. I have an ultrasound next week, so we'll see what happens. At least I get to see Miss Queenie herself and those grabby hands! Seriously, could I write a better script?

Sting

I sit on my bed, belly up, with a needle in my hand.

I am finally listening to my OB and attempting to take my second daily shot of blood thinner that somehow has taken me 10 weeks to accomplish. There is just not enough time in the day.

This needle, this shot, has nothing to do with Brooklyn. It is to protect me. Yet as I get ready to give the shot, she moves and I am distracted. She shifts, and the right side of my belly sticks up and contorts and is uneven. How that still amazes me.

I carefully put my hand on what I am sure is her backside. The tears start to fall, and I pray hard for healing. I pray for power in my hand. I hold her the only way I know how to right now, and I talk to her out loud and in unspoken words that go straight from my soul to my belly. She kicks, and my heart jumps. I am now smiling through the tears, and I know it is time to give the shot.

As the needle goes in my belly, it stings. Some shots hurt more than others, but today it’s not that bad. A breath of relief sneaks out. It’s the little blessings sometimes.

Yes, there are bruises on my belly. Bruises that were never there before this pregnancy. They are bruises I can hide and never show. But that wouldn’t be fair.

Because I am not alone. We are all hurting, somehow, some way. I am no different than anyone else going through this life. Life stings, and at times it may feel like too much pain to endure. But we do. We get through it.

The bruises fade, and we move on. But we never forget the sting.

And that’s where I know I am different….but in a good way. I could get angry. I could hold on to the pain, bury it deep within my body. I could focus on the hurt, the black and the blue, and give in to my human nature to sit in the sadness and dwell.

But that is where He comes in.

He doesn’t take away the sting, but He will heal the bruises and, most of all, He will fill the brokenness that goes so far beyond my skin. He will replace those bruises with all the colors of the rainbow, making the black and the blue beautiful and in perfect harmony with the bigger picture He is painting.

If you don’t know who He is, I am talking about God. And He makes all the difference in the world.

You see, I will get to hold the baby in my belly, look at her face, and I KNOW that I will be in awe of the beauty He has created. Not only because the Bible says it ( Romans 8:28 ), but because I feel it…even now. And that feeling is so much stronger than the sting.

I am still healing, yes, and it still hurts. But the assurance, the promise that lays before me is what I bury deep within my body. And even though there is another shot in my near future, there is also a life to live, a man to love, little girls to take care of, and much happiness to be had.

I will not be wounded. I will be better.

For me,
for her,
for them,
for Him.

Foto Friday: F is for Fun

So, I realize this blog has gotten a little heavy lately. I write when I feel led, and today I feel led to lighten up a little and share some of our family fun.

Truth be told, I was born a scheduler and rule-follower -- especially when it comes to our girls -- which means that sometimes I have to be reminded to chill out and just live. They are only little once, and the best part about being a Mommy is that you get the chance to be little all over again.

One thing that I have definitely learned over these few months is that life is truly what you make it. You can either jump in and laugh, or sit and miss out on all the fun. So I have vowed to change things around this house -- making it more playful and more joyful and full of l.i.f.e.

That started with a promise to make this summer as fun as possible...balancing planned trips with last-minute adventures and all-out silliness (and getting some work done in between). Although my hormones are trying REALLY hard to work against us, I think we've gotten off to a great start!

(Cue lots and lots of photos... Enjoy!)



Impromptu trips to random parks we drive past


Home-made popsicles on the deck


Touch a Truck day!






Home-made pizza WITH lots of gooey (dairy-free) cheese


Making sure we are dressed appropriately for every occasion ;)




Lots of fun with glitter (which Jeff just loves...)




Tickle fights with Daddy at bedtime


And last but not least...getting creative when Mommy is in bed sick all day (and Daddy is on the clock ;)

Faith Like a Child

When actions speak louder than words...

Whispers

It’s absolutely amazing how God has revealed himself to us these last few months. Sometimes it’s in quiet whispers as I look out the window or soak in the smell of a giggling ponytail bouncing on my lap. Other times, I swear He has been right there in the room, very loudly telling us, “I am here.”

Even in the weeks leading up to our first ultrasound, I feel God was whispering in an effort to prepare my heart, even though I had no idea what was to come. I vividly remember sitting on the couch with Jeff a few days before the ultrasound, telling him that sometimes I had a small feeling we might have a child with special needs simply because I thought Emma would be so awesome with him or her. Jeff quickly dismissed the idea—and so did I—assuming it was nothing more than “third-child paranoia" and nerves.

As I’ve mentioned before, we also decided to find out the sex of our baby this time—Jeff’s idea—and I admit I was pretending to be more excited about it than I was. It honestly didn’t matter to me. I also have never been a huge fan of saying, “As long as it’s healthy” simply because what if the baby wasn’t healthy? What if she had 9 fingers instead of 10? Did it matter? Would you not love the baby the same? I can honestly say that those words never sat right with me…especially now.

On the day of our ultrasound, Jeff and I were on the phone (he was meeting me there), and I asked him if he was excited. He said he was, and I teased him about the baby being difficult so that we wouldn’t be able to find out the sex. But then in all seriousness, I said, “We do need to remember what this ultrasound is really about. It’s not about girl or boy—although that is bonus information—it is about our baby and his or her health.” He agreed, and we hung up as I arrived at the ultrasound facility.

Now don’t get me wrong, the information we received in that ultrasound room took both of us completely by surprise. I plan to write about that experience in the future, but I can tell you I will never forget Jeff’s reaction. Watching a heart breaking before your very eyes is an image you can’t escape. The red cheeks, the confused eyes, the nervous hands…it’s like it happened yesterday. I will never forget that night -- ever -- even though I was in total shock. Even today, the reality of it all surprises me and catches me off guard as we go about our daily routine. Sometimes I think that is a sign of pure acceptance, while other times I wonder if it’s God giving my heart a break.

So it’s not like I had this “I already knew” moment, but as I look back, I can hear the whispers. The small preparations He made. The way He opened my heart to His possibilities, His plan—a plan that was so far removed from mine.

And while I have lots of “yelling” moments to tell you about as well (stay tuned!), I have learned to listen closely for His whispers.

Sometimes they provide what I feel might be very real information, but most of the time, they just provide a whole lot of comfort when I need it the most. Sometimes they come from a little girl who stops mid-eating to quietly pray for her sister’s “sick legs,” and other times they come from another little girl who stops mid-play to announce in her proudest (and loudest!) voice that she is going to be a big sister.

No matter the volume of His voice, I am trying to listen hard these days…and that usually means ignoring the world a little bit.

In my hallway, a framed image reads:
“Make time for the quiet moments as God whispers and the world is loud.”

I am still learning to listen, to drown out the other voices, and I am far from perfect. Before this experience, I admit that I would pick and choose when I followed God’s lead. I'm sure He has tried to tell me a lot these last few years, but life is busy, and well, it’s easy to get caught up in the meaningless jibber-jabber that is all around us. I can only imagine what I've missed, the murmurs of Truth I've ignored.

But now, it is different. Everything is different. I am different.

I am listening.

"Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know."
Jeremiah 33:3 NIV


"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
Jeremiah 29:11 NIV


“You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will take me into glory.”
Psalm 73:24 NIV

Quick Update...All is Well

Good news at our ultrasound today! Brooklyn's ventricles are about the same size as last time, which means the fluid in her brain is stable and not rapidly increasing. Praise God!

Of course, we would like all that fluid to simply disappear, but one step at a time. For now, we are rejoicing in what was actually a pretty uneventful appointment. Jeff was able to meet me there this time, so I feel kinda bad that we were in and out of the ultrasound pretty quickly. No sneak peeks at her cute little nose or even those kicking feet. But we both realize we can't expect every single appointment to be some momentous occasion, and honestly, it was kinda nice that it wasn't. Hearing a simple "all is well" is more than okay with us these days.

Miss Brooklyn is weighing in at a petite 3 lbs, 1 oz, which puts her at about the 23 percentile and definitely within normal growth rates. (A very good thing!) However, because she is a little bit on the smaller side, our OB is being cautious and would like to make sure she is getting enough oxygen, which means he wants me to start having weekly (yes, WEEKLY) NST tests...ugh!...on top of seeing me for regular appointments every 2 weeks...ugh!....and an ultrasound every 3 weeks...grumble, grumble, grumble...

Now, I don't mean to be whiny preggo, but I would be lying if I didn't admit that this makes me a tad frustrated. These appointments literally take half a day. Today, for example, was 5 hours from the time I left my house until the time I picked up my little ladies. Five hours! Last time was 6 hours. That's a long time for my wonderful babysitters (love you, sisters!) and kinda exhausting for this mama. BUT, it is part of the deal, Brooklyn is totally worth it, and, well, we gotsta get used to it. So suck it up I will.

Our OB is willing to let me do some of the NST tests at Palos, so I don't have to go out there EVERY time, which I suppose is a little better. Right?!?!???? Yes, yes it is (...as I inhale five more peanut butter M&Ms...)

Anywho... she is still in position for a normal delivery (which they are really encouraging us to do), and she is really moving a lot -- hands and feet! Jeff gets to feel her move all of the time, and both girls love talking to my belly and making her kick. (I swear she knows their voices!) I know how much joy it brings to my heart every time I feel her move, and it is so awesome that they get to enjoy that now too. We get to rejoice as a family, and it only makes us that much more excited to meet her.

So, my friends, that is the scoop. As always, thank you for your prayers. You are all taking a part in our baby's life and our family's journey, and we are eternally grateful for the work your prayers have done. Next ultrasound in 3 weeks...let's hope it's just as uneventful! :)

Foto Friday: 29 weeks...

...and I can no longer see my toes! :)

Update on Brooklyn

We had another ultrasound yesterday. As if getting another peak at our peanut wasn't enough, we also got lots of new information.

First, the good news! Miss Brooklyn is kicking around in there!!! Yes, her legs are moving! This is the first time we have been able to see that. Up until now, they were not detecting any leg movement. We still don’t know if this indicates specific movement from the knee down, but it is encouraging. God is so good!

Also, she is no longer breech and has moved herself into "position," which is making a normal delivery (not a C-section) a very real possibility. We are waiting to see if our neurologist agrees with our OB that this is a safe option for Brooklyn’s condition, but our OB seems very confident that this will be more than fine based on the defect’s lower location and its size. Yesterday’s ultrasound showed that defect is measuring “small,” which is another yahoo!

Either way, Brooklyn’s birthday is scheduled for July 27. BUT if she's anything like her sisters, she may decide to show up a little sooner, which would be fine with us. We can't wait to meet her!

She is also growing just fine and all of her organs look great, so we are more than overjoyed!

Unfortunately, we did get a bit of discouraging news. The fluid in Brooklyn’s brain has increased and has been upgraded from “mild” to “severe.” This increases the chance of her needing a shunt once she is born, could make breathing a little difficult at first, and also increases the chances of cognitive challenges later on in life. We remain hopeful that the fluid will level off at this point, but our next ultrasound in 2 weeks will give us a better idea if this is progressive or not.

Our OB is hopeful that the fluid will not increase, and so far, it is not causing her head to swell, which is very good. Still, we are concerned and asking for prayers on this very specific item.

And, by the way, your prayers are working more than you know! All of our anxiety about our appointments and switching doctors has clearly been bathed in prayer, and God is showing His presence in very real ways.

As you already know, we are very confident in our neurologist, but I haven't had a chance to share that my OB nurse actually prayed for me at my first appointment (yes, PRAYED!), and yesterday’s ultrasound was performed by a gentle woman who had lost her own child to a more severe form of Spina Bifida. (More on those stories later...) We KNOW that these were not mere coincidences.

"For where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them."
Matthew 18:20 NIV


Jeff and I are so thankful for all of the prayers and support we have gotten up until this point, and we feel very confident that your prayers -- and God's awesome power -- will help the fluid in her brain subside. We continue to trust and hope in His plan!


"Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be your name,
your kingdom come,
your will be done
on earth as it is in heaven."
Matthew 6:9-10 NIV

Up

She tells me she wishes she could fly.

I totally know what she means.

The weight of this world is so heavy sometimes. Too heavy.

But lately, I find myself floating. Floating somewhere between Heavenly hope and worldly reality.

This in-between, this waiting. It's confusing. Some days, I really don't know what I feel.

As I float, I work hard to keep my eyes focused on the prize, even when the gravity of it all tries so hard to keep me down.

I look at my girls; I try to live in the blessings. I try to ignore the rain and concentrate on the sparkle of the glitter that is providing so much joy. Sparkle that is making our day brighter, even if it is a little bit messy.

It's a choice, happiness. To have an Upward perspective. To hope. And I thank God every day that I have that choice because without it, my feet would never leave the ground. Even if that means I have to float a little before I fly.


(Emma's preschool Teddy Bear Picnic balloon release)

but those who hope in the LORD
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.
Isaiah 40:31 (NIV)

Dandelions & Tulips

Saturdays are my favorite day of the week, especially in the spring and the summer, when the weather gets warm. Jeff is (usually) home and takes the girls outside to work with him so I can have a little "me" time, which usually involves toilet scrubbing and laundry. But nonetheless, I get a little break.

However, it isn't long before I hear a tap at the door or several urgent doorbell ringings. As I open the door, I am greeted by two little girls with hands full of dandelions and faces full of smiles. "Here, Mommy, for you."

I love that. And I don't think it will ever get old. Ever.

A few weeks ago, we had a Saturday that followed that exact series of events. As I relished the moment, I filled a plastic cup with water, gently placed my gifts inside, set it on the kitchen counter, and happily went back to cleaning the bathroom.

A quick water break led me back to the kitchen, where I noticed that the plastic dandelion cup was actually sitting next to a glass vase full of purple tulips Emma and I bought a few days before in honor of Brooklyn. We both agreed she would like them, so we "splurged."

As I saw the contrast of those two vases, my human nature took over and I started to go there...

Brooklyn will probably never be able to run around the yard on a Saturday morning with her sisters.
She will have to watch them from afar.
And she will never bring me bouquets of dandelions...at least not without a lot of physical effort.

When these types of moments come, I have learned to literally look Up. And just like every time I choose to that, God revealed something amazing to me. This time, He drew my eyes back to the tulips. The beautiful, beautiful tulips.

How in the world did I miss their beauty?

And then He fixed my eyes on both flowers:

The dandelions...bright like the sun, full of life, carefree, and a bit wild.



The tulips...purple like Royalty, peaceful, carefully constructed, and a bit more fragile.



Both created by God. Both beautiful in their own way. Both perfect in His image.

My mind was then drawn to a short essay someone sent my Mom days after we found out about Brooklyn:

WELCOME TO HOLLAND
by Emily Perl Kingsley
c1987

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......

When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."

"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."

But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.

So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.

It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."

And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.

But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.



Interestingly enough, going to Italy has always been a dream of mine, and Jeff and I were fortunate enough to literally go there a few years ago. It lived up to every expectation I had, and we absolutely loved it there.

But I know we will love "Holland" as well, and I'm pretty sure it will surpass all of our expectations.

After all, I hear they have lots and lots of tulips there.

A Piece of Me

I had my first dream last night. Well, my first dream that wasn’t really a dream at all, but more like a glimpse into the future.

I was in the hospital awaiting surgery. My Dad was there and so was my friend Katie. There was a mother and a daughter in the waiting room as well, both of who seemed to have symptoms of Spina Bifida. The daughter was joking with the mom that she didn’t have any real problems, but the mom was arguing that she did. They were smiling and laughing together. And next in line for the surgery.

I was trying to be brave, and I couldn’t see my Dad for a second. And then I caved in and hugged my friend Katie. I was crying. I told her I was scared. I had never been operated on before. She said, “I know,” and cried with me.

Then it was time to sign my name in at the surgery check-in. But instead of my name, I was supposed to write my relation to those in the waiting room. I wrote, “daughter, Mommy, friend.”

Only neither Emma nor Kendall was there.

And that’s when I realized I wasn’t the one really going into surgery. It was Brooklyn. But I couldn’t see her, which actually makes sense. She isn’t here yet.

I was woken up from my dream to the sound of Kendall crying, and I as walked to her room, I realized just how real my dream was.

Every time Brooklyn goes into surgery, it will feel like I am the one going in. A piece of me getting wheeled into that room. I can’t phantom that feeling yet, but I know I will have to feel it many, many times in the years ahead. I am scared.

But I do know I will have my family there and my friends. They will hug me and cry with me. They will be—and have been—there to support me every step of the way.

And my daughter will have to remind me every time that she is the one going into surgery.

But I will argue that is not the case at all.

More Hope!!

Today was an awesome day! We met with the pediatric neurologist, and she is absolutely wonderful. She is extremely knowledgeable (well, duh... she is a brain surgeon), but she is also extremely compassionate.

I was so nervous about meeting her... about finding out all sorts of clinical details from some genius doctor who would talk over my head and give me all sorts of gloom and doom scenarios. I expected this to be our reality check. A day when we would receive knowledge that would take away the comfort of the "unknown" and leave us with just our faith. I prepared myself for the worst, knowing that no matter what we learned today, I would still choose to hope for the best.

But that wasn't how it was at all. Immediately, I felt at ease when I met the doctor. She was very friendly (and quite fashionable I might add!) and was interested in what we wanted to know. She was very forthcoming with information, but waited for our questions and truly took her time with us.

She started off by saying that no matter what our ultrasounds are showing her, it does not give us an indication of what Brooklyn's condition will be. She has seen a wide range of scenarios, and every child is different. Common sense, sure, but I expected a medical professional to be more black and white. But let me tell you that all that gray is a HUGE comfort to us.

She told us that she has seen children with defects in the upper part (thoracic) of their spine walk successfully, while others with very low (sacral) defects can't walk at all. In other words, you really don't know those types of details until the baby is born. Brooklyn's defect is in the mid-lumbar/sacral area, so there is a lot of hope that she will be able to at least walk with braces. Her clubbed feet will have to be adjusted, but once they are, walking with assistance is a very real possibility.

Long term, she may or may not end up having to use a wheel chair. That will depend on her quadriceps strength, her weight, and her personality. It will also have to do with how much we motivate her and encourage her to be independent. The hospital really encourages independence, something I know Jeff is extremely committed to and ready to tackle. Heck, if he has his way, she will be running marathons! I am committed to this as well, but I know it will be hard as the Mommy. As the neurosurgeon told us, she will have to pick up her toys and make her bed, even if she has to do it differently than her sisters. We have to push her so that she can have a full life, even if it that means it's a little hard on us in the process.

The neurosurgeon also told us that she wasn't concerned with the fluid in her brain (hydrocephalus). It is only mild, and it is very common. Once the defect in Brooklyn's back is closed, they will closely monitor the fluid levels in her brain. In fact, the goal is to NOT use a shunt (to help drain the fluid in her brain) unless absolutely necessary. I won't bore you with all of the medical details, but while shunts have saved many, many lives in the last 30 years, they also create lots of complications (infections, mortality, etc.). So whereas 20 years ago they would have quickly put in a shunt, they now wait it out to see if the body can heal itself and learn to absorb the fluid. It's a little more of a "cutting edge" approach, and Jeff and I are on board 100%. This may mean that Brooklyn will be in the hospital a little longer (an average of 3 weeks), but every day she gets older and stronger without a shunt is an advantage. The surgeon assured us that if they see any evidence that a shunt is needed, they will definitely use it. And they will only release Brooklyn from the hospital when they are sure she is stable and truly ready.

We also learned about possible feeding challenges (very common), learning challenges (math can be difficult), and the logistics of moving Brooklyn from delivery to surgery, as well as the series of events that will take place while she is at the hospital.

In the midst of all this information, we also talked about personal stuff...my pregnancy, our girls, her children. She referenced her other patients by name, and she told us she couldn't wait to meet our little girl. I believe her. She made sure to introduce us to the very nice office people I talked to on the phone. They were just as friendly. As Jeff said, we felt like we were becoming a part of a family. And that was such an amazing feeling.

I can honestly say that Jeff and I could not feel more confident that this is the perfect surgeon to operate on our baby. No matter what the outcome, Brooklyn is going to receive the best care. I know these people will not only take care of our baby, but care for her.

Once again, our prayers were answered. Keep 'em coming! :)

And Away We Go...

Appointments.

That is basically where we are at right now. Lots and lots of appointments. I was putting them off, I admit, because that meant time away from the girls and really, I wasn't ready for that yet. I know that will be a big part of our life from here on out...but it is honestly a part I dread.

Funny how it's the little things that can get to you. I've always been that way though. I can handle the "big things" pretty easily. Maybe because I know only God can handle them, but it's the little things that I struggle with. It's the day-to-day stuff that makes me feel like I am lacking and that I am somehow failing. And letting the girls down is now a looming fear that creeps in way too often.

Many of you know that Emma was with us the night that we found out about Brookyln's Spina Bifida. Not the best situation, but in many ways, it helped relieve us of the decision as to what to tell her, when to tell her, etc. She knew from the start, whether we liked it or not.

Well, on the way home that night, I was trying my hardest to figure out the right thing to say to my little girl as I was still trying to comprehend it all myself. I told her that Brooklyn might have "sick legs." I told her that even though she might not be able to do all the things we can do, she is going to be a perfect addition to our family. She will teach us about God in ways we never imagined. She will be special, and she will be a very important part of our family.

After my pep talk, I was feeling pretty good about my words and the fact that I was doing a good job of hiding my breaking heart, when from the backseat came the smallest little voice...

"Mom, does that mean Brooklyn will be more important than me and Kendall?"

Silence.

My worst fear...spoken by a 4 year old that had more wisdom and understanding than I ever imagined. My worst fear...before I even knew it myself.

As I desperately tried to backtrack -- telling Emma we are all made special by God in different ways and all play an important part in our family -- I felt a horrible sense of failure.

Even as I become more informed about all of the challenges we have ahead of us, it is still my biggest fear: Taking care of all three of my children in a way that makes them all feel loved, special, and important. Making Emma and Kendall feel loved even though Brooklyn will be getting lots of attention. Making Brooklyn feel loved even though she can't do all the things Emma and Kendall will be able to do. Making them understand that they will each make me proud in different ways. And that I love them all equally.

I know this is a struggle every mother with more than one child has. But somehow it has now been magnified...by like 100. Maybe it shouldn't be and maybe I'm the one magnifying it, but I would be lying if I didn't say it literally makes my heart ache.

The comfort I have is believing that God will also use this experience to make Emma and Kendall the people He intended them to be... compassionate, caring, accepting. We want more for our children, and I think this does give my girls an opportunity to experience life in a more challenging, but more fulfilling way. I just pray God will help me guide them in this direction. That the stress won't take over and that the moments we are together make up for the time lost. For the confusion.

So the decisions are being made. Assuming all goes as planned at all of our appointments next week, we will deliver at Northwestern, and Brooklyn will get her surgeries at Children's Memorial. I will have to have a C-section, which means there will be a few days when I sit in a hospital room by myself while Jeff waits in another hospital for our baby to come out of surgery and my other babies are at home being cared for by someone other than their Mommy.

These are days I have to choose not to think about. Because the thought of those days tear. me. to. p i e c e s.

I know this will not be easy. But God never said it would be easy.

As my bible study lesson so perfectly revealed to me this week...

"For it has been granted to you that for the sake of Christ you should not only believe in him but also suffer for his sake..." (Phillipians 1:29)

If my God can die on a cross for me so that I can spend a perfect eternity with my children, the least I can do is use our short period of worldly suffering for His Glory.

And I pray with all of my heart that all three of my girls learn to do the same.

Meet Brooklyn Hope

Today we had our fetal echocardiogram and -- praise God! -- our baby’s heart looks healthy. The doctors weren’t really worried there was anything wrong, but any time they discover abnormalities, they usually check out the heart just to make sure there are no other issues. Up until this morning, I wasn’t worried either, but as our appointment time got closer, I admit, I was scared.

We went to the same place I had my ultrasound, so needless to say, the feelings were welling up and my heart was heavy. My mom was there for comfort, and she kept me strong. But as I sat down on the same table in the same room we originally got the news, it took everything in me to keep it together. Thankfully, our ultrasound technician was extremely kind and was happy to chat, which kept my mind at ease.

Although a pediatric cardiologist still has to review the ultrasound tape to confirm that all is well, the technician said our baby’s heart looked “perfect.” Thank you, thank you, thank you, God.

As if that wasn’t enough, our technician also gave us a few more praises: She confirmed that we are indeed having a girl, and she gave us more than a few photos of our little sweetheart.

God is so awesome. This was supposed to only be an ultrasound of my baby’s heart, but by the grace of this technician, I got to see her precious face, her active hands, and even those tiny little toes. She waved to me, and at one point, gave us a thumbs up as if to say, “No worries, Mom, I am okay.” I can’t describe the joy my heart felt in that moment. Another image imprinted in my heart forever.

Also, now that we know for sure that our baby is a girl, I want you all to know that her name is Brooklyn Hope. Or, as her Daddy already calls her, “Brooke.”

When we first found out we were pregnant, Jeff and I quickly decided on names, and it was always going to be Brooklyn for a girl. But I admit, the night we found out she had Spina Bifida, I was tempted to change it. The next day, however, we decided her name needed to stay exactly the same because she was the same baby God had put in our life just 3 months before. He created her and has known her all along, and we wanted to honor that with the name our hearts chose in the beginning. She is our baby no matter what the details are, and we love her just the same.

Her middle name, however, did change. Originally it was going to be Marie, which is my middle name and my Great Grandma’s name. But we knew we wanted to also honor God and the impact Brooklyn was having on all of us, and “hope” just seemed to fit in so many ways.

“And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God.”
Romans 5: 2b

While we certainly hope for our baby’s healing, more importantly, we have learned that God provides hope, comfort, and strength even in the darkest of days. Hope in Him gives us perspective, peace, perseverance, and even praise when challenges take us to places we never thought we’d be.

He is the light in our sorrow. A light that is so brilliantly shining through our little girl, that even she knows, it is all going to be okay.