Shared: On Hope

I found this beautiful story of hope today.  That seems to be my ongoing theme right now, so I want to share it with all of you.

May God bless your day!

This was taken after Brendan's Spring band concert.  He plays the violin.

On hope and diagnosing miscarriages

"Hope means hoping when things are hopeless, or it is no virtue at all... As long as matters are really hopeful, hope is mere flattery or platitude; it is only when everything is hopeless that hope begins to be a strength."

~ G. K. Chesterton

Speaking of hope, here is Nicholas with a sweet friend who, by birth, is a couple weeks older than him.  But she was born at 26 weeks, weighing only one pound.  To have her at our home, running around, smiling, and hugging her big friend, is a reminder that we always should hope!

I do not know yet how my situation will end, but I want to share the website Misdiagnosed Miscarriages again, for anyone who may be going through a similar situation.  (I particularly liked this page.)

I am in shock at how quickly the midwife I first saw -- after not seeing a heartbeat on a 6-week ultrasound -- was willing to just sign me up for a D&C.  And she said she did not think I should wait more than a week before having a D&C.  Yet another midwife said I could take my time -- it is my body; of course I should take my time, and feel confident in whatever decision I make.  She said many women come in at 10 weeks, and never realized their baby stopped growing very early.  As long as I watch for signs of infection, I should be fine waiting for a natural miscarriage.  And then I will know no mistake has been made.

This is not to say women should never choose D&Cs.  I can see why that would be a good choice for many women.  This is to say women should never feel pressured to rush into a D&C.

Yesterday, when I spoke to a nurse at the Pope Paul VI Institute, she told me they don't even perform 6-week ultrasounds anymore, because they had so many incidents of not finding a heartbeat at six weeks, and then finding one at eight weeks.  Now, the earliest they will perform routine ultrasounds is 7-1/2 to 8 weeks.

I trust the Pope Paul VI Institute so much, because my experience with them during my last pregnancy showed them to be so compassionate, well-educated, and willing to fight for my baby, at a point when the "standard" medical community was willing to stand by and throw up their hands.  I will have to share that experience another time.

The Misdiagnosed Miscarriage site shares that in the UK, they are even changing standards so that most miscarriages are not diagnosed before nine weeks.  Because they were making mistakes.

These are the lives of women, children, and families that will never be the same.  A misdiagnosis is not acceptable.

Of course, miscarriages do happen.  Sometimes that heartbeat will never be found.  But hopefully, we can help women find some peace of mind, and the knowledge that a she has made her own informed decision, rather than being rushed into something someone else feels is right.

Holding on to Hope

I have been away from blogging for a while.  But with good reason.  I am pregnant!  And since I have experienced previous pregnancy losses, for me a new pregnancy doesn't just mean it's time to wait.

 

It is a time to wait.  But also, I have my progesterone monitored through the Pope Paul VI Institute.  So there are blood tests and things to organize.  And in the case of this pregnancy, while I was originally just concerned about the progesterone numbers, the hcg is causing the most worry.

 

In the midst of finding out I am pregnant, and going in for blood work,
we celebrated Luke's First Communion.  It was a beautiful, blessed day!

It is not doing what doctors would expect hcg to do.  And so they sent me in for an ultrasound yesterday.  A week earlier, at five weeks, everything looked like it should (I had gone in because the hcg had them worried about an ectopic pregnancy).  There was no heartbeat yet, but I was told that was to be expected.

 

One week later, apparently no heartbeat means they do not expect the pregnancy to be viable.  That is what they told me when there was still no heartbeat at yesterday's ultrasound.

 

I was heartbroken.

 

 

Although I had been a bit surprised when I found out I was pregnant, there seemed so many reasons to hope.  Although I, probably like most people, had my moments of fear, I knew there was definitely enough love in our family to share with a precious new life.

 

And every time I opened my Magnificat, those reasons for hope seemed to be emblazoned on neon signs.  Every verse was so encouraging, every time I reached for God's Word.

 

Like the day I found out I was pregnant, on the Feast of St. Joseph the Worker: "Over all, his glory will be shelter and protection: shade from the parching heat of day, refuge and cover from storm and rain." (Is 4:6)

 

Kate had a dance recital on the day of Luke's
First Communion! She was so beautiful!

Or the day I was concerned about how we would provide for six children: "Look at the birds in the sky; they do not sow or reap, they gather nothing into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are you not more important than they?" (Matt 6:26)

 

Or just before I walked into my first ultrasound, on the Feast of Our Lady of Fatima: "The eyes of the Lord are upon those who love him; he is their mighty shield and strong support, a shelter from the heat, a shade from the noonday sun, a guard against stumbling, a help against falling." (Sirach 34:16)

 

And, "My God is the rock where I take refuge; my shield, my mighty help, my stronghold." (Ps 18:3)

 

 

I understand that the combination of no heartbeat and the hcg numbers strongly suggest this pregnancy will not have a positive outcome.  But still, I am choosing to hope. (There is a website, Misdiagnosed Miscarriages, that suggests miscarriages are sometimes diagnosed too early.)

 

A favorite college professor of mine once said that if you are the fastest runner in a race, it's not really that you hope to win.  You expect to win.

 

Apparently there is something about the virtue of hope that grows when the odds are stacked against it.

 

Padre Pio said, "Pray, hope, and don't worry."

 

I try to pray.  I hesitate to hope.  And I worry much too often.

 

But for this baby, over the next two weeks, I am going to take a leap.  I am going to pray.  I am going to hope.  And I am going to try not to worry.

 

God will be with us.  He always has been.  As the Book of Job says, and as I was so grateful to hear a beautiful song express on my way home from the doctor yesterday, "The Lord gave and the Lord takes away.  Blessed be the name of the Lord." (Job 1:21)

 

 

Remember the story of the persistent widow, who received a just judgment simply because she refused to stop asking (Luke 18:1-8)?  God wants us to ask for the desires of our hearts.  So I will ask for my child.  And if His answer is "no," I pray I will trust it is because He knows something I don't.

 

But at least I will know I asked.  For Nicholas, I knew I had to take progesterone shots; I knew if anything happened to my pregnancy and I hadn't tried that, I would always regret the decision.  With the shots, I knew I'd done everything I could.

 

 

For this baby (in addition to the shots), all I can do is pray (I did that for Nicholas as well, but it was a different situation).

 

Will you join me in prayer?  I am praying specifically for the intercession of St. Gianna Beretta Molla.

 

My next ultrasound is scheduled for June 3.  At that time, we will know so much more.

 

Until then, I am going to take a deep breath, and be grateful for the miracles of life that surround me -- including the one we haven't yet met, but already love.  Until then, I am going to hope.

 

Catching up

Happy Easter!  So much has been happening!

Easter Sunday brought us warm weather and SUNSHINE!
We spent a lot of time sitting on the patio with Doug's family,
while the kids played.  Doug's dad doesn't like to sit too long,
so he and Nicholas began working on the flower beds.

Nick likes to help outside.  He just likes to be outside.  Always.
We can no longer say the word "Go" unless we either want
to take him out, or don't mind a small fit!

 

 First Communion

My son Luke makes his First Communion Saturday! 

Last weekend, there was a mandatory retreat for the First Communicants and their parents at our church.  My husband had to work, and then Nicholas became sick, so I did the only thing I could think to do -- I sent my 13-year-old daughter Meghan in my place.  I am so thankful for her eagerness to help her brother, and to spend time with him.  These two have always shared a special relationship, and it was very touching when I came to pick them up and saw them sitting, and laughing, together.

Last night, we attended a special dinner and rehearsal for the First Communicants.  When it became clear that our part in the practice was done, I asked Luke if I could leave a bit early, to help get the rest of our children in bed.  He just grabbed my hand and said, "No, no.  I'd rather you stayed here!"  It has been so enjoyable to walk with Luke through his preparations this year.

Meghan watched the other children while we were gone.  There is something really wonderful about realizing you have gotten to that point in parenting where you do not always need to find a babysitter -- because you have raised one.  Meghan has a particularly close relationship with Nicholas, so that helps a lot too!

I received this text from her toward the end of the evening, after I asked how Nick was doing: "He's a busy boy.  That's all I can say.  Right now he's shoving stinky socks up my nose and asking for gum."

I can't explain it, but that text just made me laugh, and feel so proud, and love them all so much, all at the same time!

We gave Luke his own First Communion retreat, with just Nick and Doug and I. This is now a tradition with our children. The retreat house where we took our other children has closed, so we took Luke to a nice dinner to the Adoration chapel, and Mass. He loved it, and so did we!

Spring Break and Cleft Lips

My children had the week after Easter off for Spring Break.  We spent a couple nights at a Great Wolf Lodge, and then visited my grandparents, who live nearby.  Everyone had so much fun!



Our children with my Nana and Opa.  We're very blessed, because
my Nana will be here for Luke's First Communion as well!

One challenging part was that Luke commented a couple times that he felt like people kept staring at him.  I didn't know what to say, and I didn't know if it was true, or if he was being overly sensitive.  Then, while I was in the hot tub with Luke and Meghan, a 6-year-old boy came up and asked what was wrong with Luke.  I explained he was born with a bilateral cleft lip and palate that the doctors had repaired it.  Then the boy continued on with some questions that could have been nothing but hurtful to Luke.

Again, I was so grateful for Meghan, because she quickly distracted Luke, and disappeared with him to the Lazy River.

At times like this, I would love to ask someone with an older cleft child: What do you say when your child says people often stare at them?  And, is it OK at some point to simply tell a child they shouldn't ask hurtful questions right in front of someone (or anywhere)?

I always try to answer with a smile, like it's the most natural thing in the world.  I hope that helps Luke deal with these situations with a smile -- and then to just keep going on with the more important things in his life -- when he gets older.

Nick really enjoyed the water park -- especially these little fountains.

 

Struggles and Helps

We hosted Easter, somehow it seemed after our trip like every bit of laundry in our house ended up getting washed, and now I am preparing for Saturday's First Communion/Dance Recital/Celebratory Party.  And honestly, it feels like that is just the little stuff that has been going on the past couple of weeks.

I'd like to share some words that recently encouraged me.  This quote is from a calendar of Mother Teresa's words called "Heart of Joy."  I received this in college from my Grandmother, and the words touch my heart just as much today as they did then.

"Prayer unites us with Christ.  Simply open your hearts to him.  Also, simply accept what he sends you. With a big smile, generously give him what he asks of you.  God will do the rest, never fear."

 

Also, from yesterday's readings: "There broke out a severe persecution of the Church in Jerusalem, and all were scattered throughout the countryside ... Now those who had been scattered went about preaching the word." - Acts 1:1b-8

 

Seriously, there broke out a "severe persecution," but Jesus' followers, while they left Jerusalem, continued to spread His word.

 

Because of this, people in the places they went experienced "great joy" -- joy that would have been unattainable if the Church went silent when faced with hardship.

 

May we find joy in His word, and may we spread His word with our lives!