Monday, August 10, 2015

twelve weeks.

This week, I should have been 12 weeks pregnant. This week, I should be calling friends and family members who didn't know yet, posting cute photos on Facebook of my husband and me holding adorable ultrasound photos, and telling the world about our baby. 

Instead, I'm curled up on my couch thinking about what could have been, un-following everyone on Facebook who has a new baby because my heart can't handle seeing that, and coming here to remind the world... 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage. 

image source

And though I have been "getting better," and I've felt much more alive and much more like myself over the past few weeks, hitting this 12-week mark has a lot been harder than I anticipated. When I would have been sharing our happy news, I'm feeling the loss all over again. 

So my message today...
  • If you have suffered a miscarriage, you are not alone. So many others share your pain and grieve alongside you. I know it hurts. But I promise there's hope. Don't be afraid to speak up about your experience -- you don't have to bear the burden alone. If you need someone to talk to, please, send me a message. 

  • If you know someone who has suffered a miscarriage, will you just let her know that you still remember her loss? Assure her that she and her baby are not forgotten, that her grief matters, no matter how long it's been. Please don't pretend to understand what she's feeling if you haven't been through it. Just let her know she's loved. 

Monday, August 3, 2015

Where summer meets fall...

white caps on Berner's Bay
Today was the warmest, sunniest day we've had here in a couple of weeks. Outside in a t-shirt, sandals, and lightweight pants, it definitely felt like summer.

At the same time, there were signs of the soon-coming fall all around: The wind was blowing hard, making whitecaps on the usually-calm bay. The fireweed blossoms have turned to their final fuzzy stage before dying off. And I found a dead salmon on the beach. Yes, fall is coming, even on what was otherwise a very summery day.

Windy!
After lunch at the Dining Hall, I took a walk down the beach, camera in hand, and oh, it was beautiful. The sun on my back, the wind in my face, seagulls and bald eagles flying over my head, waves crashing on the shore. It was a moment that the world was breathtaking. It was a moment that made me happy to be alive.

What does that one line say? "Heaven meets earth like a sloppy wet kiss." That's what that moment was like. Pictures don't capture it, because there are no sounds, no smells, no feeling of wind in your hair in a photograph. But here it is, and I hope you are some fraction of as enamored with this day as I was.

The fireweed blooms turning to fluff is a sure sign of summer's end.


Saturday, July 25, 2015

Help me choose a name!

Okay, ladies, I need some decision-making help! (if you know me, you know I'm one of the most indecisive people on the planet.)

I'm looking into starting a new blog/website specifically dedicated to writing for young women. The audience would primarily be
  • Single adult ladies
  • Engaged women
  • Newly married wives
                (note: all the life phases I've been living in for the past few years!) 

Topics might include: Devos and spiritual insight relevant to these chapters of life, pieces of my story, and practical articles about relationships, marriage preparation, single life, etc. I'll probably even write about our miscarriage experience to help other young couples who are dealing with that. 

It's still very much in the planning stages. However, what I'm debating on right now is a good name, and wow, what a tough decision! I do plan to keep this Dreams That Move the Mountains blog going for personal updates for family and friends. This potential new site is a totally different project. Just FYI :-) 

Okay, back to the name thing. Choosing a good name is so important, and a choice I'll have to live with indefinitely. I want something that will be appropriate to both single and married women...and no cheesy Christian-ese stuff! 

So, ladies, here's a list of potential blog names I've come up with so far. Will you help me out by voting on which is your favorite? If you have a different idea, feel free to suggest it in the comments! 


Which blog name is your favorite?

Grace and Becoming
Love and Longing
Be Still My Waiting Heart
Lovely Longing Hearts
Graceful Journey
Quiz Maker

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

Love Will Get Us Through

A couple weeks ago -- just a few days after our miscarriage happened -- Brett came in from working, opened his computer, and said he had a song playing in his head that he wanted to listen to. He found it saved on his hard drive, a song from an obscure singer from Canada named Dan Powers. I'd never heard of him or the song, "Love Will Get Us Through," but as we listened to it, the words of the chorus wrapped around my heart.

It's not enough to love you

Oh I wanna hold you


Yes. Yes, those were the words my heart wanted to say to my unborn baby, my baby whom I love but never got a chance to hold. It's not enough.

~   ~   ~

These days -- nearly a month past the loss -- I'm doing much better. Most of the time I feel pretty much like myself. But going back to normal is kinda scary, and at times I almost feel guilty for feeling better. I don't want to just move on and forget about the baby. I don't want other people to think that's the case.

But I know the Scripture, "Can a mother forget her child?" (Isaiah 49:15, paraphrased) is a rhetorical question. I won't forget. But I also don't have to dwell in continual sadness for the sake of remembering. I am free to laugh with my friends and participate in life and embrace the joy of the Lord...while accepting the pangs of grief that arise at unexpected moments...and knowing that I will never lose the love I have for my unborn little one. It's okay to move forward. God's Word instructs me to:


"We do not want you to...grieve as others do who have no hope." (1 Thessalonians 4:13)

"Forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on..." (Philippians 3:13-14)

"Behold, I will do something new, now it will spring forth; will you not be aware of it?" (Isaiah 43:19)

"Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy." (Psalm 126:5)




Wednesday, July 15, 2015

Sadness With Joy



First off, I want to say how grateful I am for the outpouring of love, support, and prayers from so many people, following my first blog post about our miscarriage. God has absolutely used all of your comments, messages, emails, and texts -- and for the ones here with me at camp, your daily hugs and check-ins -- to wrap His love around me and hold me up in this time of grief. Thank you for caring. Thank you for speaking kind words. Thank you for acknowledging the legitimacy of our loss. Thank you for praying. Thank you, those of you who have shared YOUR stories of miscarriage and infertility -- you remind me that this is a shared grief and I am not alone in it. Thank you all.

It has been 2 1/2 weeks since we lost our baby, and those days have been nothing short of a roller coaster. The physical after-effects and the insane hormones can drive a person crazy, if the actual grief wasn't enough. For several long days, I struggled with depression -- unable to get out of bed in the mornings, and a lack of desire or motivation to do anything except sleep and eat cereal (yes, I wanted cereal all the time, go figure). Thank God, that heaviness has lifted. Smiles and laughter are starting to come back, sometimes forced, sometimes genuine. I'm slowly easing back into "normal life."

"Normal life"...with an ever-present sadness. 

God is using this hurt for His good purpose and His glory. I can already see that, and I rejoice in it. This has opened up doors for wonderful conversations, opportunities to share both sorrows and comforts with others who are grieving, and chances to "give a reason for the hope that is in" me (1 Peter 3:15). If Brett and I had to endure this loss, then I'm incredibly thankful to see God using it for good, to know that it's not being wasted. 

photo from Etsy
At the same time, we still have to wake up every day and remember that our baby died. I'm still coming to terms with the fact that I will never know my first child. I still have to see pictures of women with their pregnant bellies and newborn babies, and fight the awful feelings of jealousy, because I really am happy for them, deep down. I still wrestle with the fear of having another miscarriage. And I still wonder, every day, what our little one would have been like if he or she was able to be born.

Yes, there's a sadness that remains, but there's a peace and a quiet joy in the midst of it. God has a hope and a good future for us. I rest in believing our baby is in His arms. We are not of those who "grieve with no hope" (1 Thess 4:13). God is pulling us closer to Him and closer to each other as a couple. He has surrounded us with people who care. He is good, and we're going to be okay.

Tuesday, July 7, 2015

Held for a Moment, Loved Forever - Our Miscarriage Story


This is a difficult post to write.

Because miscarriage is a sensitive subject. People don't talk about it much. And honestly, there's part of me that really doesn't want the whole world to know it happened to me. But God has been teaching me this year about being real and vulnerable, and this situation should be no exception.  There's also a part of me that feels our story needs to be told; that believes that somehow, in sharing this, I'll do my part in breaking the awkward, painful silence that surrounds the subject of miscarriage in our culture.


I knew I was pregnant within a few days after it happened. We weren't trying to get pregnant, but we hadn't been very diligent in preventing it that month, either. Obviously, there were no definitive physical signs yet, but I just had that intuitive feeling. Before it was possible to know...I knew.

For a week and a half, I meticulously recorded all my little symptoms and counted the days until I could take a home pregnancy test. Sometime during those 12 days, a friend came out to visit for an afternoon with her 6-week-old son. I cuddled baby Elias, mesmerized by his tiny handsome features, and was in awe of the two babies I held at that moment. It was like a sweet secret between God, baby Elias, my baby, and me. No one else knew yet.

Finally, the day came, and there were two pink lines on the test -- positive! My heart pounded with adrenaline, excitement, and joy as I tiptoed back into the bedroom, woke my husband, and told him the news. We laughed, cried, hugged, prayed, and laughed some more. What a surprise blessing from God! For the next few days, we tried to let this big life change sink in and become real to us. One of my favorite memories from that week is lying on our bed one afternoon during our off time, talking about what we would name our baby. That weekend, we called our parents and siblings to share the news with them, and the following week, we announced our pregnancy at the weekly camp staff meeting.

The announcement photo we made to tell my family about our baby.
On Friday, June 26th, we went for my first prenatal appointment. I was six weeks pregnant, so it was too early for an ultrasound, but the midwife talked to me about how I was feeling, gave me advice about my diet, and took blood for the standard prenatal blood testing. We were given a due date of February 18th. We scheduled a physical and another meeting with the midwife, and planned for the first ultrasound in mid-July.

And then Saturday came. I was bleeding when I got up that morning, and the cramps began soon after. Realizing what was happening, I stood over the bathroom sink, forehead against the mirror, and sobbed. I told Brett, and he prayed with me. I called the midwife. By 1:00 that afternoon, all the horror was over. My baby was gone, and I was left physically and emotionally empty.

In the days since then, I have experienced a full range of emotions, from overwhelming sadness to anger to hopelessness, including at times feeling completely void of emotion. Tears come at random, unexpected moments. I feel like I don't know who I am anymore.

Because as any mother can tell you, from the moment you know you're pregnant, you are a mom. And it changes you. It changes your heart, your thinking, your priorities, your identity.

I became a mom at the end of May. And at the end of June, I became a mom whose baby died. That one month has changed my life.

Brett made this little memory box, where I can keep our announcement
photo, our baby names list, etc. It's a good tangible piece of closure for me. 
Yet God is carrying me through. In the midst of all the grief, there is hope because of Jesus. Scripture has been comforting, especially the Psalms, and so have certain songs. Our first dance song from our wedding was "You Are Mine" by Enter the Worship Circle, and the words of that chorus have been echoing in my mind the last couple of days. I think of it as our for better or for worse song -- no matter what happens, we're together and God's got us. My husband has truly been Jesus to me during this time, and it's amazing to see how God is growing both of us and our faith through this trial.

And although suffering a miscarriage can be a very lonely and isolating experience -- many people are uncomfortable and don't know what to say, so they simply avoid or ignore the situation -- still, God provided a handful of people who have been a great help, a comfort, and sometimes simply a breath of fresh air to my hurting heart. I am thankful for those people who aren't scared away by the pain but are there to embrace me in the midst of it.

I rest assured that -- as one sweet friend reminded me -- death isn't God's plan. We're not meant to understand or accept death, she told me, because it was never how God wanted the world to be. Death and heartache happen because the enemy is in the world, and someday Jesus will redeem it and wipe all of our tears away. In the meantime, I can continue to trust that He is good...and trust that He will use this story and our baby's short life for His glory.


Sunday, June 21, 2015

I'm still alive, and here are some photos to prove it.

Okay, y'all, so I'm literally sitting down and forcing myself to write something on this blog today. It's been about 3 weeks since I've posted anything, and if I want to stick with my goal of "blogging regularly" (that's obviously loosely interpreted), I need to post something today while I have the time.

The only problem is, I don't really have anything brilliant to say today. So instead, I'm going to give you a few pictures of life lately. Here we go.

This is what a bunch of baby campers in the rain looks like. Aren't they adorable, in their colorful little rain jackets?!?! I just love them.

 This is a panorama I took at the Mendenhall Glacier. You can see Mendenhall Lake, a glimpse of the glacier in the right corner, and Nugget Falls to the right. Sorry, I can't remember the name of that mountain. 








And this is just a cute picture of me and my sweet hubby. Love that guy.


This is what a 4am airport run in Alaska in the summer looks like. Yes, sunrise was about 3:45 that day. We took a group of people to the airport, came back to the dorm, closed our thick curtains, and went back to bed.

This is me eating a halibut burger. DE-LI-CIOUS.

And that's my photographic summary of life lately! :-)

Monday, June 1, 2015

Things I Learned in May

Things I Learned in May

I'm joining Emily at Chatting at the Sky today for her "What I Learned in May" link-up.  Check out Emily's post and the other ladies' links, too!
Here are a few things, in no particular order, that I've learned in these past 31 days...


  • Weed-eating isn't as fun as I used to think it was. 
I used to love running a weedeater back when I worked at Camp Ba Yo Ca, so the other day I enthusiastically volunteered to help my husband out by doing so. Turns out it's not so enjoyable -- getting pelted in the face and arms with flying pebbles and grass? No thanks.


  • After a month of sun, I'm ready for rain.

Let's be honest, us Alaskans don't know what to do with this much sunshine. It's fantastic, don't get me wrong! I love the sunshine more than the rain, for sure. But a whole month with only 2 days of rain? Seriously, are we even in Southeast Alaska? The dust and the flies are getting ridiculous. Never thought I'd say this, but... time for a few rainy days.

  • Condensing your life story into 5 minutes is hard.
During Summer Staff Orientation here at camp, we each shared our testimonies and were limited to about five minutes each, since there were so many of us. Yeah. That's challenging. I feel like I left out lots and lots of important stuff.

  • When you live at work, time off isn't really a real thing.
Even when we're "off," we're thinking about work, talking about work, and often, actually working instead of being off. It's a tricky boundary. 

  • Hubby and I can eat a whole bag of these in one sitting.
                                      
Seriously, if anyone wanted to send us a bunch of these in the mail, we wouldn't be very mad ;-) 

  • Marriage really is challenging.
People always told me the first two years of marriage are the hardest, and I never believed them. I always thought, "Nah, the first years would be the best, right? Honeymoon phase!" But you know, there's a lot of adjustment, learning, growing, compromising, and stretching involved in these first months. All of that is amplified when you live in a Christian community bubble and work in full-time ministry. It's all good, it truly is! Definitely not easy. But good. 

  • The valley is still my favorite place at camp. 
                                  

What have you learned this past month? 

Saturday, May 16, 2015

Glorify HIM, not me!

"Let your light shine before men in such a way that they will see your good works and glorify your Father who is in heaven."  (Matthew 5:16, my emphasis)

"Beware of practicing your righteousness before men to be seen by them; otherwise you have no reward with your Father who is in heaven."  (Matthew 6:1) 

This is a good reminder for me. Really, this is something I need to be slapped in the face with, just about every day. Especially here at camp. Why is it so easy to get into a mindset of performance? To think that I deserve recognition or thanks for anything I do?

The good works that my Father has given me to do (Ephesians 2:10) are meant to point people to Him and give glory to Him...not myself. Never myself! If I never get recognized for my service, it's okay. As long as my heart is pleasing to the Lord and people can see Him reflected in my good works, I must be satisfied and joyful in that.

Father, remind me daily that I deserve nothing. I am not my own, but You have bought me with the price of Your blood; therefore my life's purpose is to bring You glory! May my heart be joyful, willing, and humble as I serve, and may people around me see Your light reflecting in me-- for YOUR glory, not mine. Amen.