Chosen

When I was pregnant with Ella, it was easy to praise God daily. I had never been so happy, felt more beautiful, or enjoyed a season of my life so much as those 38 weeks. It was such a magical time in my life...finally becoming a mother.

It has never been easy for us to get pregnant. We have endured much heartache through the years while yearning and waiting on the Lord to bless us with the family we so desired. Last November, we thought we had been through the worst after enduring a miscarriage after finally conceiving. So when God placed these two babies in my womb in February, it seemed that like this was all part of his perfect plan. But a month ago, it all started to go down hill. I still believe in His plan, but I've yet to see the perfection in it.

Sometimes I just want to scream out "How much more can I take Lord? I cannot do this alone. I need your grace and mercy and healing hands to keep my babies tightly knitted in my womb until they are ready to survive in this world. God, please help me. Open up my eyes so I can see you at work here. I want to give you everything...but, please, don't take away my son and daughter."

The truth of the matter is that God already has their birthdays picked out for them. Only He knows how it will all work out in the end.

I am the woman He chose to carry this little girl and boy. And He CHOSE ME. He knew that I would fight for them until the very end. I want to praise Him for choosing me...but, how do you thank God for something as difficult as this? Why me God? I do not want this as part of my testimony. I just want to bring home two more healthy babies. I want to watch 3 kids play in the backyard...swinging on swings, building forts, and picking flowers that they aren't supposed to pick! I want to take one of those silly family pictures where we are all wearing red, white, and tan with matchy outfits from the GAP. I want to decorate two nurseries and take twin newborn photos with little knit hats.

I have made 24 weeks plus a few days. I have survived 5 weeks of strict bed rest. Many say that I must be a very strong person or that I must have great faith. The truth is, I am neither of these. When I speak of the hope and faith that I have, it is because the holy spirit has intervened and given me a moment of peace. In reality, I sometimes feel like I am barely getting through this.

It is NOT the bed rest that is especially hard. I've actually gotten used to that part, although I definitely have my moments where my heart aches to take Ella for a wagon ride. It is not the medication pump in my leg 24 hours a day, the eating meals while laying flat, or monitoring I have to do several times a day and sending the strip to my nurse via a modem that really is hard either. The hardest part is still having all day long contractions and never knowing if this going to "be the day." It is the anxiety of knowing that, if my children were born today, they would face long term problems.

I am begging God for a few more weeks.

When the leaves fall...

22 weeks pregnant with our sweet twins

It was not my intention to go so long without giving an update. I'll try and be better. It has taken my body and mind a couple weeks to come to terms with my new normal and get used to being on this medicine (it keeps my resting heartrate at 120 beats per minute...so I feel like I am running a marathon even though I am laying down. It also makes my hands shake like I have Parkinson's...but, that has gotten a little better). I am mostly in good spirits though. I have a day here and there where I feel really down in the dumps, but I've had some really great days too. I have REALLY enjoyed spending more time with my dad (who has been watching Ella for me most days of the week). He'll spend the night for a few nights and has been great with Ella. Of course, he spoils her rotten...but, she is very loved. Ella is loving that someone is letting her eat doughnuts for breakfast and dessert every day of the week! This would have made the old me crazy...but, the new me is just so grateful to have people take care of her and love her.

I have been hesitant to say that this past week has been uneventful (for the most part, that is). The babies are still holding tight and seem to be growing well. I have managed to acquire enough medicine on my dresser to open a small pharmacy. I shudder to think how much this pregnancy would cost us without insurance...my medication pump alone (not including the medication itself) is $130 a DAY to rent. I'm so grateful that, so far, we have not had any problems with our insurance helping pay. Praise God that that is one stress that we have not had to endure as of yet.

I have come to terms that I'm not going to have this fairy tale pregnancy where I strut around with a glow and cute maternity dresses around the mall or park. I really don't want to look back on all this and think "that was an awful few months." Hard, yes...but such a blessing in many ways as well. I have gotten to spend so much special time with friends and family (because of my need for all day help with Ella), that I never would have gotten before bed rest. Don't get me wrong, I HATE depending on people for everything. I HATE that my time with Ella is so limited and that her whole world has been changed by my lack of being able to care for her. I cherish our time of coloring in bed, having picnics in bed, and snuggling while watching "Pwincess Foggy" (interpretation: The Princess Frog) for the 500th time. She says that "mommy has a booboo"...that seems to make sense to her. Hopefully she won't think the babies are a "booboo" when they get here. Ha!

Speaking of my sweet little love...this is what happens when mommy is on bed rest and grandaddy lets her pick out her own outfit...

She gets her sense of style from her daddy.

Dear Ella,

Your laughter, sense of humor, and love have seen me through many long hours the past couple weeks. You have adapted to all this change so well. I look forward to the cool fall breeze and watching the leaves change colors and fall from the trees with you. Although life will be busy with the three of you, I know that you and I will once again hold hands through the park, swing on the swings, and read "Alice in Wonderland" (your favorite book right now!) again. When the leaves fall, know that I will be waiting to jump in the leaves with you...hand in hand.

Mommy

Celebration...

It is the 4th of July. It's the evening you are supposed to grill out hamburgers and hotdogs, go see a fireworks show, and sing "I'm proud to be an American." But, I have chosen a solitary evening...laying on my bed while the neighbors shoot off a great display that I pretend is just for me.

I have sent Andrew and Ella away for the night to enjoy some time at the lake with other family. My sweet love has set me up with a refrigerator in our bathroom to help me get through the evening and any other days I find myself alone.

But, do not feel sad for me. The solitude is actually kind of nice. It's been a time I can really just sit in silence and pray to God. I find myself wondering if prayer really matters, which I know is foolish. My mind races wondering how my whole life will play out at the end. Will we bring home two more healthy babies...these babies that I already have fallen in love with? Will I ever REALLY understand God's love? Why does God sometimes chose to intervene and sometimes not?

I could paint a rosy picture and say that I have complete faith God will work a miracle. But the truth is that I don't know that. He may or may not chose that for me. And I can't pretend that that doesn't leave me feeling sad and frightened. Sure, there are times during the day that I feel blanketed in prayer and feel optimistic. I don't lay around all day feeling scared...quite the opposite actually. But I have to be honest and allow myself to feel normal emotions. I wouldn't be real if I said everyday I sit with this enormous amount of faith singing "God is good". He is good...I just don't always feel that way. I have been known to shake my fist at Him from time to time.

While the rest of America is dressed in red, white, and blue, playing with sparklers and eating watermelon, I lay here having my own celebration. Another day of bedrest is definitely a blessing. It is one more day that has been given to me as a gift. It is one more day that I get to carry these two babies, feels their kicks, and be their mother...and that is reason to celebrate.

Carnival Ride

Gosh. This past week has been full of ups, downs, fast speed, and slow speed.

So let's start with good news as I feel that that is really what the focus should be:

I did have a placenta abruption with baby boy, but he seems to be doing good. This poor little guy gets the rotten deal in all this...he's really low, his placenta tore, and he has less room than his sister. He is such a trooper though and my abruption seems to be healing. YAY! Baby girl is just floating around like there is nothing going on...she's spoiled already!

My cervix hasn't changed in the past couple days, so I think that is very encouraging. Of course, I had one rude doctor who came in this morning who seemed think the medicine and bedrest were ridiculous and aren't going to change the outcome of this. He wanted me to stop the pump, not be on bedrest, etc. He said this "isn't going to change the outcome". I decided to just politely tell him that "something is helping all these problems, so I'm not just going to stop doing these things."

I really just wanted to say "maybe you need some faith in Jesus you big jerk"...but, I decided that wasn't very Christian like of me.

Anyway, so things for the moment seem to be stabalized again. Again, we will just go home and keep on praying and believing.

We'll let God be the decision maker on this carnival ride...not the doctors.

Thank you for all the love, enouragement, verses, etc. I couldn't get through this without the love of you all. Please know that I read and cherish all comments and notes sent. I have been unable to respond to all of them, but I definitely read them all and pray those prayers with you.

Sarah