I (Brianna) have been remembering lately how God has remained faithful even when I didn’t trust Him. Even when it was hard to see that He was in the midst of things, He was there working things out in His way and in His timing. this can be so hard for me, as I have realized how much of a “control freak” I can be. This story is about our journey of infertility, loss of hope, trusting in God, and our first miracle baby, Luca. It helps to set the stage leading up to Zechariah. This is the first post we have co-written, and it is a long one.
Before Jeff and I got married, I was told that my chances of getting pregnant were small. This devastated me, all I ever wanted was to have a family; I wanted a houseful of kids. The thought that this would be difficult never occurred to me. I remember crying to Jeff and telling him that he could just break up with me and find someone else because I couldn’t guarantee him children, and who knows what the journey would look like. I am so thankful that he didn’t let that doubt change his mind.
I (Jeff) had always wanted biologic children but my love for Brianna was stronger than that desire. We immediately started talking about adoption and how to build a family that way. It’s a desire that has stuck with us and we hope to fulfill soon. Until God made it clear otherwise, we were going to try getting pregnant first.
When we got married, we talked to another doctor, who reiterated the first, and even went as far as to tell us if we couldn’t get pregnant in six months, we needed to get help, as my body would make it very difficult to conceive. So after 6 months of trying, we met with an infertility doctor and started treatment. Intimacy was thrown out the window, we were just trying to conceive now. Our world revolved around infertility – appointments, treatments, surgery, ovulation strips, timed intercourse, and pregnancy tests.
We had three failed fertility treatments. Each time we heard “I’m sorry, you’re not pregnant”, and were devastated. I started to blame myself and hate myself. I started to question my identity and God. Each time another friend told me they were pregnant I wanted to be happy for them and at the same time I would hide in my bed and sob.
Why was it so easy for them, yet so hard for me? What was wrong with me? God, where are you, can you even hear me, are you even there? These prayers, screams, and cries were constant and each one a reminder of what I had – empty arms, no baby. With each failed treatment my anger and hurt towards God and my body grew.
One day after the third failed infertility treatment, I was in the shower sobbing. Like ugly, uncontrollable sobbing. I was rolled into a ball on the floor of the shower and I heard a voice, a tiny voice, “why are you crying, by this time next year, you will be holding your baby”. Now, I am NOT someone who “hears” God speak, and I actually thought I was crazy and said NOTHING to anyone, not even Jeff for several months. I didn’t want him to think I lost it completely.
That day we decided to take some time off of treatments. My body was starting to suffer, with headaches, fevers, and body aches, all signs of major stress. I was scared and mad at Jeff for even asking that we take a break, but reluctantly agreed. We stopped trying, and started to reconnect as a couple. We did more things together that didn’t revolve around trying to conceive, and even went to Italy for a much needed vacation.
Getting pregnant can be extremely taxing emotionally. Thankfully, enough of you don’t understand that; sadly, more than would care to admit, do understand it deeply. We had been warned about how infertility could be destructive to our marriage, but it didn’t hit me until this point. Losing out on emotional intimacy both physically and mentally was hard. I began to dread the chore, and knew how much it was affecting Brianna to feel like she was failing me, herself, and her family. I had to become stronger spiritually for both of us so we wouldn’t end up a statistic. Italy gave us time and fun away from reality to reset.
About a month after Italy we decided that we were ready to try again, and we had enough left in savings to do a round of IVF. We went to the specialist who told us that I was ovulating and that we should try and get pregnant immediately. We went home and “followed directions”. A week or two later the doctor called me and said that they made a mistake. When they had taken the ultrasound they mistook something else for an egg. They asked me to come into the office and take a pill to jump start my period.
I called Jeff who immediately said it didn’t feel right. We talked with my parents who also had their doubts. I asked the doctor what would happen if I took the pill and was pregnant – it would abort my system. Again they argued and assured me that there was no way at all that I could be pregnant, I did not ovulate and they made a mistake.
We went to 90% of the appointments together, I was there to support Brianna and our future family. I was there watching the ultrasound screen as they skimmed over Brianna’s fallopian tubes searching for those little bubbles where future babies hide. I can remember seeing the follicle that would become our little boy. For me, it was an easy choice – no pill. I had seen the follicle and knew we had a chance, waiting a few more weeks for another chance if we didn’t get pregnant didn’t bother me.
A week later we had a positive pregnancy test! I was so surprised and hesitant that it was a mistake. I made Jeff go back and buy 7 more. 8 positive tests later, it was evident that we were indeed pregnant. Had we listened and taken that pill, Luca would have been aborted instead of laughing with his brother and daddy as I type in the next room. That reality isn’t something we take lightly.
Man, pregnancy was rough. I was sick. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY! For the WHOLE pregnancy. Water was disgusting, cereal was life, and I don’t do good without coffee. Ask Jeff.
At the 20 week scan they found out that Luca was Intra Uterine Growth Restricted (IUGR). Turns out it’s kind of “contagious” – both Zechariah and Ezra would go on to be labeled IUGR as well. He wasn’t growing very well and there was a chance that I would have to deliver early. Twice a week stress tests, twice a month scans, and constant monitoring of Luca began. At 36 weeks he fell below the 10th percentile and they sent me to the hospital to be induced.
If you haven’t been pregnant before take this advice – late in the game, start taking a go bag with you everywhere! Luckily, our doctor recommended it to us because Luca was so low on the charts. We had our bag packed and ready to go, especially we just moved an hour away from our hospital.
At the last development scan they told us to head to the hospital for Brianna to be induced. Luca’s stomach and head growth percentage dropped so low, induction needed to happen. So we hopped in the car and started back from Oakland. While Brianna was on the phone with Labor & Delivery they told her to go grab dinner and come in after because they were full and busy right then. We took the opportunity for one last good meal before heading in.
It is a funny thing to say, but, we were fortunate to have become familiar with a lot of the nurses by the time we were admitted. Whenever they could they would make Brianna more comfortable by getting us a nice room and giving us extra care. That went a long way towards making Brianna’s 27-hour labor less terrible.
After an eternity it was time to push. An hour and a half later, I was still pushing. His head had gotten stuck under my pelvic bone, and I had to push for another 2 and a half hours before my tiny 4 pound 14 ounce miracle came into the world.
He had trouble screaming at first (in fact it took about a week for him to learn how to cry and scream). Then he started having breathing problems, so they took him to the nursery where he was given air and an IV. That was just the first five minutes. I had imagined and was looking forward to my baby being placed on me right away and holding and bonding with him. Instead after a quick picture, he was whisked way, with Jeff running behind to the nursery for extra help. Not something any mama wants to go through.
In the nursery he started throwing up and whenever we tried to feed him he would throw up almost immediately. Because his stomach was underdeveloped, he struggled to digest food. They were afraid that his intestines were inside out. Fun fact he was the youngest and smallest child the doctor had ever put an NG (nasogastric) tube in.
Funny how something happens and you realize it is a God thing. The doctors were discussing sending him to the Children’s hospital, when they called to schedule an x-ray and found out that the best doctor in the field was at our hospital. He just happened to have 15 minutes in his schedule and wanted to see Luca immediately.
Talk about good and bad timing.
By this time Brianna had been “kicked out” of the hospital. She had recovered and was discharged. Luca wasn’t ready to go home though. The hospital was a nice, big, brand new hospital in the town we had just moved out of that was more of an anomaly than common. That meant there were not hospitality options for family of those in the hospital. So we ended up at a motel five minutes down the road.
We took turns driving back and forth from the motel to the hospital to get rest, food, and cleaned up. It was during one of those trips that I was showering when the call came in about the x-ray. I had to jump out of the shower, get dressed, and drive back up to the hospital. By the time I got there everything was done and over with. Luca’s intestine’s were fine.
To wrap things up, after days Luca was able to digest his food and stopped throwing up. After 6 tiring days in the nursery we were finally able to take our little miracle home.
I wish that I could tell you after this I fully started trusting in the Lord. I mean he did save my baby. He did deliver on his promise that one day in the shower, (I was holding Luca a year later). My baby is turning 6 next week. But, I still struggle with trusting him, I still struggle that he is a good God, despite all the good he has given me. Truth be told I am still angry that Zechariah is up in Heaven and not running around after his brothers. I still feel cheated that I never got to bond with any of my babies right after birth and instead had to watch them either be whisked away by doctors, or birth an angel baby and hold his lifeless body.
Its been a journey for me. This isn’t what I expected when I dreamed of having a house full of kids. It’s still hard for me when I see a pregnant woman, or hear of how great others pregnancy and birth stories are. Even though I am so incredibly happy for them, a piece of my heart sits broken. Because I know I can never be pregnant again, and it hurts deeply, despite my joy for others.
It’s a daily choice to be grateful for the many blessings God has given us. It’s a daily choice to remember the miracles and blessings instead of focusing on the hurt and the pain. So Today, I am choosing to be so incredibly grateful and thankful that 7 years ago he spoke to me in a quiet voice, that almost 6 years ago His promise came true, and that today I have the amazing privilege of being Luca’s mama.
Finding Peace after the Storm 