Today is June 13, 2011. Wyatt is 5 1/2, Bradford is almost 3, I am 35 and Chris is 38. The last time I posted something it was over a year ago. Somewhere down the line, 2010 turned out to be one of the craziest years, filled with many wonderful things, achievements, memories and love, however, there were some things that weren't so fun to endure. I can honestly say that God took me to a place where I had never been before. He had me so down in the dumps and feeling like I couldn't catch a break, that the only place I had to go was directly to Him. In my running to Him, He caught me like only a loving, merciful and graceful Father could do. And for that I am plain grateful. And humbled. He showed me there are things in my life that need to change. And I pray every day that I will live to please Him. And rely on Him and ONLY HIM!
Beginning in February 2010, I took a routine visit to my OB/GYN for my annual check up. I mentioned to her that I would be turning 35 the end of this year and we were thinking about having another child. I told her that I had developed uterine polyps between my pregnancies with Wyatt and Bradford, and after successful removal and benign biopsy, Bradford was conceived the next month. She said, well let's just get you down to ultrasound and see where you are today. Long story short, the polyps were back. UGH I thought. I know that in order to conceive again, I'd have to have another surgery. Polypectomy and D&C. So I did it. And the procedure was fine. No problem, I'd done it before. However, a few days later, I received a call from the Doctor who wanted to review my results. Last time they had told me over the phone that the polyps were benign. This time they wanted to see me. Not good. As I sat there in his office, he told me, "Don't panic, but one of the polyps showed that you have endometrial hyperplasia...don't panic...it is NOT cancer...but is considered a precursor to cancer..." After hearing the "c" word, I don't think I was breathing well. I knew I was crying. I knew all I could think about was my husband and children. I really tried not to panic, but I'm not that good, so I did. So I was put on this medicine called Megace which is what they give to stage 2 cancer patients. It made me feel fat and very sluggish, but overall I was OK. After the 3 months was up, I went in for another laparascopy to see if the medicine was doing it's job of burning up my endometrium so nothing could grow on it. Thankfully, nothing had grown back and the tissue samples he took were benign. PRAISE THE LORD!
Well, fast-forward 6 weeks. One day I wasn't feeling well at lunch and realized I was "late." So I took a pregnancy test and...what...seriously...it was positive? Really? We were shocked needless to say, but oh so overjoyed! I did the math in my head and this baby and Bradford would be 2 years and 9 months apart...the EXACT same distance that Wyatt and Bradford have between their ages! And this baby was due the day before Easter! Wow...so perfect.
I was about 8 weeks along when one day, our precious dog, Shelby, suddently darted out to scare some workmen from our side yard (because she's so fierce...she couldn't be more gentle and loving). I realized that shortly after she made it to the gate, she couldn't walk back to the door. I knew that the week before she had hurt one knee while playing with her pal Gracie, but now it seemed like BOTH legs were out. We were able to get her an appointment on Monday September 13, she had surgery on the first knee September 14, she came home looking pitiful on September 15 and I was a basket case. She looked terrible and seemed to be in so much pain. I have such a soft spot in my heart for animals, especially for my own dog. But I knew she would get better!
We had our 9-week appointment with the doctor on September 16. I can't explain it, but I had a bad feeling before we even had the ultrasound. I wasn't trying to be negative, I just couldn't shake the fact that something wasn't quite right. Unfortunately, the ultrasound confirmed that feeling just a few minutes later. Anyone that is reading this that has ever had a miscarraige, you know how it is. Devasted. Really, that is the best word to describe it. Since I already have two children, I know how it feels to love a child with every part of your being. I will always think of that baby...we saw the heart beating on two occasions...I really had no reason to think something was wrong, other than my suspicion that morning. After my 3rd surgery in just 6 months, this one was the icing on the cake. But somewhere in all of this craziness, I felt God telling me, "I've got you." "Trust me." And I still feel Him. And I hear Him. I've learned to recognize His voice. That's where He needed me to be. Utter trust. Utter dependence. Well, we did find out that our baby had a genetic disorder called "Trisomy 16." It had the full portion that is incompatible with life. Most babies that have this die before the 1st trimester is over. The chance of recurrence is slim, thankfully. I rest in the fact that WE WILL MEET this person one day! What a feeling!
So Shelby had her 2nd surgery 6 weeks later, and she and I were both recovering together this fall. She's a tough girl. Never gave up. Always wanted to move and get better. I realized, in a weird sort of way by watching her recover, that's what I needed to do as well. Keep moving, never give up. Take care of the children that I DO have. Cherish Chris.
My 35th birthday, Thanksgiving and Christmas were all wonderful this year. At the end of 2010, we were really ready to put it in the memory bank, but it ended on a good note, so for that we are truly grateful.
Grateful. When you can go through rough times and come out on the other side and say that you're grateful for the trials that have come your way, I believe that's a good thing. "Consider it pure joy my friends when you go through trials..."
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