Wednesday, February 29, 2012

commUNITY


Greg and I have started a community art project. We ask people to paint what they believe community to be on these black and white squares. Some day we hope to fill the whole side of our garage.

Monday, February 27, 2012

Walking With Them

Jen,

Recently, I was driving through Birmingham, the same route I would go to visit our Fertility Specialist’s office. It’s weird but every time I drive past there I have these mixed emotions. It’s the same feeling I used to get when I would drive to my appointments when I was trying to get pregnant. I was very anxious and nervous and not once did I feel confident that this next test or procedure would be the one. There were no guarantees and only God knew what would happen. These moments of intense emotions remind me to pray for our couples who are trying to conceive.


My heart has been heavier for them lately. Maybe because I now have a third child and never thought I’d be here without having to wait very long. Getting pregnant this past time more easily (11 months of being “open” to it) feels surreal and I know I did not accept the pregnancy as quickly as the others. I guess I was in shock and can’t believe it really happened. I mean, I got pregnant like a “normal” person and there was no anxiety involved. Having to work harder to have babies has been a part of who I am and I think this has thrown me for a loop. I was accepting that trying for long periods of time was a part of what I had to do to have children. I have such a heart for these women who are waiting for their babies and I don’t want them to look at my story and think I don’t remember or understand how they feel. I don’t want to forget because the journey has refined me in ways I am so grateful for.

I remember when we began praying for people who were trying to get pregnant and the Lord continued to give us more and more people to pray for. One woman’s name, we’ll call her Leah, was given to me by a dear friend and for some reason I knew this one was special to me. It’s hard for me to just pray for someone and not let them know that I’ve been through a similar situation, so we began to e-mail and talked once on the phone. I remember you started e-mailing with her as well and together we prayed for her. Recently, I was wondering how she was doing and in my response to her e-mail wrote the following:

I know this sounds funny because I know we don’t know each other well, but I do think and pray for you often. After each child has been born I have these weepy hormonal moments the first few weeks and I remember the first week after Ada was born I thought of you and cried. Not because I felt sorry for you, but because I really want your prayers to be answered. In the midst of infertility it is so hard to pray for ourselves. This is where Jen and I come in. We can pray for you. We can be your voice.

Exodus 17:10-13

So Joshua fought the Amalekites as Moses had ordered, and Moses, Aaron and Hur went to the top of the hill. As long as Moses held up his hands, the Israelites were winning, but whenever he lowered his hands, the Amalekites were winning. When Moses’ hands grew tired, they took a stone and put it under him and he sat on it. Aaron and Hur held his hands up-one on one side, one on the other--so that his hands remained steady till sunset. So Joshua overcame the Amalekite army with the sword.

I would love for us to be your Aaron and Hur.

One of the reasons we started this blog is to pray and love those who are waiting for their children. I’m excited about what is to come next!

Ann
__________

Ann,

I am excited, too. If not only to share the stories of these couples, but also to remind us of the divine and unpredictable nature of conception. The stories are real and close to home, and every single journey is unique.

Jen

Friday, February 24, 2012

Remembering

Ann,

I remember it like it was yesterday, although I only think about it this time of year. We were sitting at a restaurant and a family–three generations–was seated nearby. They were passing around a new baby like a hot potato. I was fine, actually feeling joy for them, until someone held up the baby Lion King-style. That’s when I lost it. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks and the tears fill my eyes. I tried to get it under control but after we paid our bill we took a little walk where I really let loose.

We were a couple days away from Lent, and around Easter I was scheduled to have another procedure (likely my last, regardless of outcome) to try and conceive. It’s really hard to describe the emotions, and yet I can feel it in my chest and throat the minute I go back there mentally.

We had been on this journey for about 5 years, and even though I was by no means weary of the procedures, there’s only so many times you can try. This felt like a turning point one way or another: if we got pregnant and delivered a healthy baby, great; if we didn’t, what was next? Neither of us felt like we fit in suburbia without kids, and Levi pastored a church full of young families.

I had been so good about pulling on genuinely happy emotions for the dozens and dozens of friends who added to their families during these years, yet I was beginning to grow tired of baby showers and meal deliveries to new moms.

I was weary of the questions and unsolicited opinions from friends, family and strangers, I’m sure with good intentions. I’d heard my share of advice on how to have sex, how to truly relax, how to let go of wanting a biological child and adopt, and how their neighbor’s sister’s niece got pregnant after all these years, and all she did was go to Hawaii!

Dealing with infertility is a very lonely experience. I cannot imagine walking through it without the support of Levi and you. You were the one I called when I learned how to give myself shots, you were the one I vented to when I was on a hormone-induced rant.

In the weeks to come I’d like to tell some of those old stories here. I hope you’ll relive them with me and take a fresh look at how much we’ve learned.

Jen
___________________

Jen,

What is crazy I remember you telling me this story like it was yesterday but it has to be at least three years ago! I can feel the pit in my stomach as you shared watching those people hold their baby. I remember not knowing what to say because even though I, too, had my share of visits to the fertility doctor, my daughter was conceived in the first round of “tries.” What words of comfort can you give to someone when you really have no way of seeing the future?

I also remember feeling relieved that you were admitting how much you wanted a child. You were so good at being genuinely happy for others that I felt it was unfair that you weren’t always able to express your desire for a baby.

You and I have been praying for our friends who are waiting for their children. I’d love for us to be able to tell others about the feelings we had and how to walk alongside friends who are going through the same. We have discussed wanting to eventually have a place where we can lift up those who are waiting for their children and soon this will be the place.

I’m looking forward to remembering with you, and maybe even learning something new, about your journey towards your beautiful children.

Ann

Monday, February 20, 2012

Can You Hear Me Now?

Jen,

Great news! June is now wearing both of her hearing aids on a regular basis! This has been two years of ups and downs.

As soon as June was able to put her hands to her ears my mom made special hats that covered her ears tightly. This way she couldn’t get her little chubby fingers on those pretty pink aids with nice rubber ear molds that were oh-so-fun to put in the mouth. Despite the fact that she probably heard a lot of rustling from the hat next to the aid’s microphone, we were happy she was hearing as many sounds of speech as possible before the age of two.



Last August she was 20 months old. The hat hadn’t been working for some time and she was wearing her aids on her own and was not taking them out of her ears as much. When we went to stores I would check before we left the house to make sure they were in, then before we left the car to go in a store, then a few times while in the store and then would check again when we got back into the car. Needless, to say it was a bit stressful for me. I dreaded the day where we might lose an aid. Michigan has a great insurance program for children with a hearing loss where the insurance will pay for an aid if lost once during five years. Its a great program, but five years for a young child is a long time.



One day we went to Joann Fabrics and then to Meijer. Catina tends to my little hawkeye and tattles on June if she’s grabbing her aids, which can be nice. I did my usual check a million times in and out of the stores but didn’t check when we left Mejier until we got to the post office. I looked in her ear and there was no aid! I searched and searched the car and started to panic. I called Joann Fabrics just in case and immediately started driving back to Meijer. I loaded the girls back into the cart and retraced all our steps scanning the aisles for a tiny pink hearing aid. I never knew the Meijer aisles were so stinking huge until I started looking for this little aid. Why did we not choose neon green instead of pink?!

Long story short, after weeks of calling lost and found, her audiologist and the insurance company, then switching audiologists, borrowing a hearing aid until finally a new one came in, writing a required letter to the insurance company stating how I will prevent an aid from being lost again (because I lost this one on purpose?!), the little stinker would no longer even tolerate putting the aid in her ear. She started freaking out when it was in and would scream and cry. She continued wearing her right aid but not the left and then one day wouldn’t even wear the right. We tried rewards, bribing and even force, but the aid was not staying in.

One day we visited her cousins, and when she saw two of them wearing aids she asked for them. I didn’t bring hers that day and so she wore her cousin’s old aids without a battery and was doing great. I went home and put hers in and she cried. I then put in her aids without a battery and she was fine. Really? We decided to give her a couple week break and not push the issue because we weren’t sure if it was a hearing issue or her being stubborn. We even began to wonder if the Lord had healed June.
After being persistent, I was able to get her to wear the one aid again but she would not wear the new one. She would yell “LOUD!” because to her it really is louder. She wasn’t used to it. We started discussing a volume button with her audiologist thinking maybe if we gradually made the aid louder until it was at the proper loudness than maybe that would help. The audiologist said we couldn’t put a volume button in until we had the latest test. Another long story I will not bore you with which includes switching audiologists.

Last week after bath time June asked to put her aids in. I put the one in assuming we were just putting in one but she reached for the other and said “in.” O.k. I told her if she wanted it in we’d have to put a battery in it. She repeated “battawee.” I put the battery and the aid in her ear and she was fine. Completely, fine, Jen! WHAT?! Then the next morning she asked for them both again and has been wearing them for over a week now.



I have no idea why she decided to wear them but I believe part of it was the Lord telling me that He will help me through all of these “special needs.” With Him, our schedules of four therapies between Ada and June, doctors appointments, preschool, dance class and living life we’re going to be o.k.

Thanking Jesus for being with us and taking the load off when times feel a bit crazy!

Ann
____________

Ann,

This is such an answer to prayer, that she is wearing her aids–even asking for them!

Jen

Friday, February 17, 2012

Silence

Ann,
My favorite part of the day, second only to the periods of happy, content play from our three boys, is the hour after bedtime.
After kids are tucked away, there is a lovely, deafening silence that is a shock to the system compared to the laughs (or screams and cries) from only minutes before. As I scurry around picking up toys and books and milk sippies, I am overcome with gratitude for my day spent with them. Having the chance to reflect on the day allows me to mentally rehearse the moments I will reenact to Levi later that night.
The moment also puts a lump in my throat as I recall the not-so-lovely silence of our home only a couple of years ago. I recall standing in the empty bedroom rocking back and forth, crossing my arms across my chest, trying desperately to imagine the weight of a child snuggled close. I remember praying for the smell of poopy diapers to fill the room, for an abundance of toys that would get caught underfoot. I remember praying for a loud house–a house that I knew would make me as anxious as it would overjoyed! I cannot express with words the gratitude I feel as I experience just that every single day.
I’m feeling especially thankful lately for these priceless moments of reflection that gently put order and perspective to my days, days that can sometimes leave me harried and unsettled.
Jen
_______________
Jen,
These are the moments that God is teaching us about and I believe we will learn more than ever this year that the present is a present. Thank you for sharing this as a good reminder of how long we prayed for our children and how in the midst of chaos we are grateful for the craziness; not so long ago we were at a standstill with silence as our background noise.
There are two different types of time. Chronos time is what we live in. It’s regular time, it’s one minute at a time, it’s staring down the clock till bedtime time, it’s ten excruciating minutes in the Target line time, it’s four screaming minutes in time out time, it’s two hours till daddy gets home time. Chronos is the hard, slow passing time we parents often live in.
Then there’s Kairos time. Kairos is God’s time. It’s time outside of time. It’s metaphysical time. It’s those magical moments in which time stands still. I have a few of those moments each day. And I cherish them.”
What I am admire about you and hope to emulate is your sense of Kairos time. I am hoping this year I learn to incorporate that more than ever. Next Wednesday is Ash Wednesday which begins the Lenten season. I am asking the Lord to teach us something deeper about this lesson and to help us to apply it to our lives.
Ann

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Couch Fort



At least once a week our couch turns into a fort, boat, house and/or castle. Check out the fairy wings! Catina was teaching the baby fairy how to fly. (Photo taken by Ann)

Monday, February 13, 2012

Making Cookies

Dear Jen,
Catina likes to help clean and bake a lot. I love the spirit behind her efforts and I am learning to become patient with her. I know that when we bake together the kitchen blows up. I also know that after she wipes the table down I will secretly need to wipe it again, but I do not want to discourage her from helping. I’ve seen moms redo what the child has done in front of them and I wonder what that does to them. At some point do they just want to throw the rag down and say forget it? That mom will just do it over anyway? I also am trying to teach her so when she does wipe a table I ask her to try to cover every spot. She’s only five so I know she won’t be perfect at it but I want to teach her well.

For Catina’s birthday she wanted Hello Kitty cookies. She insisted on frosting them herself so I created a sample and she copied it. She really did a great job but it did take a lot for me not to jump in and want to take over. Its probably better that she did them because my perfectionism would’ve taken over and I would have hated half of them. Since she did them I loved them all!
Praying I can keep this in mind throughout all my girls’ lives.
Ann
_________
Ann,
She did such a great job on her cookies! Adorable.
Even with my very young kids I’ve had to think about this lesson more than once. Just letting them sprinkle their own spices on their food has been an excersice in discipline for me. (Do you know that when they sprinkle spice on their own food, not every piece gets a flake? I don’t think you understand, it’s not distributed evenly!) But I have absolutely no doubt this is one of those character traits that is being refined by parenthood. My want for them to feel proud of their accomplishments supercedes my desire to have things just so. (Or at least that’s what I’m going to continue repeating to myself until it feels real.)
Here’s to chaos and messiness and joyful, learned children!
Jen

Making Cookies

Dear Jen,
Catina likes to help clean and bake a lot. I love the spirit behind her efforts and I am learning to become patient with her. I know that when we bake together the kitchen blows up. I also know that after she wipes the table down I will secretly need to wipe it again, but I do not want to discourage her from helping. I’ve seen moms redo what the child has done in front of them and I wonder what that does to them. At some point do they just want to throw the rag down and say forget it? That mom will just do it over anyway? I also am trying to teach her so when she does wipe a table I ask her to try to cover every spot. She’s only five so I know she won’t be perfect at it but I want to teach her well.
For Catina’s birthday she wanted Hello Kitty cookies. She insisted on frosting them herself so I created a sample and she copied it. She really did a great job but it did take a lot for me not to jump in and want to take over. Its probably better that she did them because my perfectionism would’ve taken over and I would have hated half of them. Since she did them I loved them all!
Praying I can keep this in mind throughout all my girls’ lives.
Ann
_________
Ann,
She did such a great job on her cookies! Adorable.
Even with my very young kids I’ve had to think about this lesson more than once. Just letting them sprinkle their own spices on their food has been an excersice in discipline for me. (Do you know that when they sprinkle spice on their own food not every piece gets a flake? I don’t think you understand, it’s not distributed evenly!) But I have absolutely no doubt this is one of those character traits that is being refined by parenthood. My want for them to feel proud of their accomplishments supercedes my desire to have things just so. (Or at least that’s what I’m going to continue repeating to myself until it feels real.)
Here’s to chaos and messiness and joyful, learned children!
Jen

Friday, February 10, 2012

Piesporter

Ann,
As you know, my husband is never short on hobbies to explore. And he doesn’t just talk about it, he masters everything he tries and then readies himself to take on something new. (I can’t complain, who doesn’t like maple syrup? Thank goodness he listened to me when I nixed the bee harvesting idea, though.) I don’t typically participate, but this Christmas we thought it would be fun to make wine to share with family and friends.
Levi did all the work, I stepped in at the 11th hour to help bottle and design the labels. It was actually really fun, and of course it’s a nod to the boys. 





Wish we could have celebrated together and toasted our families with this yummy piesporter!
Jen
__________________
Jen,
First off, the labels are the cutest! I wish liquid could go through the mail so that I could have a bottle of this displayed in my kitchen.
We’ve talked about this before but this is one of the many reasons you gotta love Levi. He is so quirky with his hobbies and interests and he actually follows through with his ideas. That looks like way too much work for me! Thank God you are his wife who goes along with his crazy schemes as if they are normal.
Ann

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

New Box of Crayons



I love opening a new box of crayons! It reminds me of Mrs. Williams class, 4th grade. (Photo taken by Ann)

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

The Three Little Kittens

Dear Jen,

Do you remember this nursery rhyme?

Three little kittens they lost their mittens, and they began to cry,
“Oh mother dear, we sadly fear that we have lost our mittens.”
“What! Lost your mittens, you naughty kittens!
Then you shall have no pie.”
“Meeow, meeow, meeow, now we shall have no pie.”
The three little kittens they found their mittens,
And they began to cry,
“Oh mother dear, see here, see here
For we have found our mittens.”
“Put on your mittens, you silly kittens
And you shall have some pie”
“Meeow, meeow, meeow,
Now let us have some pie.”


I was reading this to Catina one day a few years ago and it hit me that its not good to lose something but at times it will happen. We will lose items because we are imperfect and life circumstances impede. I’ve always beat myself up when I lost something. This is something I am trying to change. I want to stop speaking harsh words to myself about a mistake I have made. I would like to move on quicker from this emotional cycle I put myself in.

This past summer we lost one of June’s hearing aids and it has been quite the ride, with it taking forever to get a new one, insurance approvals, switching audiologists, and then once she got her new aid refusing to wear it. It has been six months and she still refuses to wear her left aid. At times the old voice creeps up and says “How stupid of you! How could you lose such an important item?!” June was in a grocery cart and at some point the aid fell out or was pulled out and thrown. We don’t know what happened and there really is no way for me to keep my eyes glued to her aids and shop at the same time. I continue to remind myself of the truth that these things will happen. It’s evident that at some point June will lose her hearing aids and most likely more than once. I want to teach my kids that we need to be responsible as we can be but that things will happen, but why can’t I learn this lesson myself?



Thursday I went in for Ada’s one month check-up and forgot the chart that I so meticulously kept of her feedings and removings (poops and pees!). HOW COULD I FORGET SOMETHING THAT I USE EVERY HALF HOUR?! All in all it really didn’t matter. Ada has now been declared at her birth weight and we will continue as-is for a little while longer with added calories to my breastmilk. Again, the tape in my head began to play about how careless I am. Right before the doctor left the room he turned to me and said “There are two great things going for Ada. One, she has a great family! Two, she is very healthy.” Forgetting the chart really wasn’t a big deal but for a moment I was letting it consume me.

Hard lesson to learn and even harder to teach! Thoughts?

Ann
______

Ann,

I know you get what I’m about to say, but it’s one of those things that doesn’t hurt to hear again: I don’t think this is really about losing things. I believe it’s about allowing yourself to have a misstep. I know how forgiving you are of other people when they have moments like this, but you don’t give yourself the same grace.

This reminds me of Learning To Tell Myself The Truth by William Backus. He makes some great points about the tapes and images we play in our minds, barely even realizing their presence. The challenge is to replace them, and the lies they create, with Truth. It’s unbelievably hard, but critical. (I wish I was speaking from experience but you know I’m a huge culprit of the negative tape.)

I think it goes without saying that practically speaking, you almost never lose or misplace things. If we were running a lemonade stand I would definitely elect you to carry the cash. I think pretty much anyone who knows you would say the same thing. But I don’t think your track record really matters; what’s important is that you let God’s Truths permeate and give yourself the same grace you give everyone else!

Jen

Friday, February 3, 2012

Happy Birthday, Sweet Boy

Saturday will mark the one-year anniversary of Hayden’s birth. It has been a year full of semi-sleepless nights, endless smooches, and a million giggles.
After the twins were born we thought it would be foolish to use any kind of contraception (yes, that word makes me uncomfortable, too). We knew it would be great to have children, but certainly didn’t think it would happen “naturally” after so many years of infertility. We laughed when the doctor called it “taking a chance,” and we decided to see what would happen.
During those barren years I would complain about women who had “surprise” pregnancies. Are you sexually active? Are you contracepting? (Offically uncomfortable, by the way.) Then it’s not a SURPRISE, it’s just UNPLANNED. Very different situations, people! In case you’re wondering: No, crow does not taste good.
I was scheduled for a cesarean on February 4th. Bags in hand, we kissed goodbye the 14-month-old twins, along with my parents who had traveled in from Michigan, and we headed out the door. Compared to having two other deliveries totally unplanned and early, it was surreal to be all, “See ya later! It’s almost noon and we have a date with a butcher knife!”
I’d given birth to Elisabeth vaginally (should I have put a warning at the beginning of this post or what?) but delivered the twins by cesarean, so I knew what to expect. The moment I dreaded most was the poke. If you’ve had a c-section you know exactly what I’m talking about. You just pray that you can’t feel it, as it ensures that you are properly numbed and ready to be sliced open like a pot roast.
“OK, let me know if you can feel this,” Doc E yelled over the curtain, lowering her sterilized scissors.
“UM, YEAH, I feel it.” This is not what I remember.
“Really? Hmm. What about…”
“YES, I FEEL IT,” I clammored, trying not to yell.
“Let’s wait a few minutes and see if some extra anesthesia will help….”
“What about now?” she asked again.
“It’s better, but I can still feel it.”
“Well, that’s not where we’re cutting, so you should be fine.” Doc proceeded to slice into my skin, and I instantly realized I was in a horror film.
“OW, OW, I FEEL IT! I FEEL IT!”
I was thankful when she apologetically declared I was going to be put under general anesthesia.
An hour later I opened my eyes in the recovery room and realized I’d been tossed onto a tilt-a-whirl. I immediately shut them and, not wanted to complain, kindly said, “Woah, I am super dizzy.” Since my going-under was unplanned, I hadn’t been given the anti-nausea medication that is typically administered. So although I felt perfectly fine, I couldn’t open my eyes or sit up without…well, I just couldn’t. It’s not like having the flu where you think I’ll just sit up slowly and make my way to the bathroom. It’s not an option. You just cannot open your eyes.
Five hours later our 10 pound, 2 ounce baby boy had not yet been named. Although we had an idea, I couldn’t imagine confirming the name without having seen him! Levi tried to show me a picture but I couldn’t even open up my eyes long enough to look. It was ridiculous. I knew the nurses were giving him formula and I was getting emotional about missing those bonding hours and chances at nursing. But after the fourth medication, all of a sudden I felt fine. My mind stopped spinning, I sat up, gulped a gallon of water, and said, “Gimme that baby!” We knew instantly the name Hayden fit, and his middle name, Kendrick, was my maternal grandmother’s maiden name.

Our glorious meeting was everything I’d dreamed it could be. Up until that moment I had never experienced a baby cooing and nuzzling in my hospital room with me. Elisabeth had died while I was still in the delivery room, and the twins were quarantined in the special care nursery. Everyone had told me to send Hayden to the nurses at night so I could get some rest, but I wanted nothing more than to smell him and nurse him and mother him every second I could.
Hayden is the sort of baby who makes people giggle with his fat cheeks and dimpled smile and loving disposition. He is busy and funny and active like his brothers, but incredibly content and independent, too.
Praise God for surprises.