Trust + Birthdays

Nothing like waiting for a baby to make you want to write stuff down...if not, you just might go insane. With the pregnancy finish line so close (and somehow oh so far), your heart and head end up all over the place. But I have had a little practice sorting it out in the past, and I may have even picked up on a couple things along the way.


Through all 5 of my pregnancies I've learned lessons in sacrifice, surrender, humility, patience, sorrow, gratitude... it's almost impossible for a pregnant woman not to. But mostly I've learned to practice Trust... and you'd think I'd have it down by now, yet it's a daily choice, by the moment really, to take your grip off of that reed basket you know you're trying to steer and just let go, again and again.

My oldest's birthday is tomorrow; I don't know how, but she's going to be 7! About 9 months ago, when we told her this new baby's due date, the possibility of interference with her own birthday, or worse, her big party, was of top concern. She's prayed about it, shared it with our church, wrote homework assignments about it, whispered it to my belly button for months... 

"Hi, I love you, but please don't come on my birthday."

One night this week it was at the top of her prayer requests once again and after a day being filled with contractions coming and going, I knew I had to say something. I tried to explain to my precious daughter (ironically, redemptively, humorously?) the concept of our own desires versus God's will - trusting His plan, not ours.

Now this is the same discussion that our adult group just had the other week, and even we struggled/struggle to really get it. But I always bring it back to my Jesus, and even He, yes the Perfect One, experienced this.

He knew His hours were running out and the very same people that had just welcomed Him into the city with shouts of praise would scream out "crucify him" come tomorrow. And Jesus prayed. Through literal blood, sweat, and tears, He prayed for His own desires.

I paraphrased to my little-big-girl that before Jesus went to die on the cross for us he told God,

"I don't want to do this whole thing anymore, please don't make me do this..."

But He didn't stop there, He followed it by saying,

"But more than what I want, I really want whatever You want, God."


She ask me to repeat it, she closed her eyes to hear it harder.

Jesus confessed to God his honest desire, His (dare I say self-seeking?) needs. But... over-arching it all, Jesus prayed this: I Trust You God and Your Good Plan, for me and for everything. 

"Your Will be done, not mine." ~Luke 22:42


With each season, with each baby, with each moment, have Your way. I Trust You, again and again.

 

(With all that being said, the doctor told us today to plan for a birthday party tomorrow and a baby by next week. The almost-7-year-old jumped for joy  :)

Resource

I'd just like to take a second to offer myself as a resource for anyone you may know facing an unexpected pregnancy. 

I have some life experience to pull from, but also actual training and time spent as a counselor at a pregnancy clinic which may be useful to someone out there.

Currently, I stay home with my three little ones. But what with Facebook, texting, e-mail, etc., I've realized I'm still available and able to help. I can at least talk through options, provide information, and just be a listening ear.

Feel free to message or e-mail me (michelle.umbehauer@gmail.com) and/or pass this information along however you may want. 
Thanks.

Rejoice Today

I can't believe we are just 2 weeks away from becoming a family of 5! And this baby could be arriving even sooner with things already getting revved up in there. But with final weeks of pregnancy, anxious feelings tend to weigh heavy on me. Not so much the fearful, uneasy kind of anxiety, but the antsy, impatient kind. Less like worrying and more like hurrying. Just wanting to check off another day to get to tomorrow. You know, wanting a big X asap over today, so the upcoming circled date might come a little sooner.

But how dare I? Honestly, I've been gifted the opportunity to wake up this morning, breathe, see, move, feel, love - and all I want to do is get on with it all? Rush right through? I've said before that worrying is the opposite of trust. In that same way, God has shown me that hurrying is the opposite of gratefulness. Being so consumed with what's next that right now just isn't good enough. So focused on what's ahead of us that we don't take the time to look around us. Planning for tomorrow without enjoying the fullness of today.

The waiting game that comes with delivering a baby is filled with overwhelming eagerness, but we've all been there somehow... if I can just make it through til that vacation, after the holidays I can enjoy things again, once I get this test out of the way I'll go back to being happy. Think of all the days during the countdowns that can be counted as a waste because of the ungratefulness for the now and the hurrying for the next.

Psalm 118:24 declares, 

"This is the day the Lord has made. 

We will rejoice and be glad in it."

We will rejoice...today. We will be glad...today. God has made this day and it is here right now, how could we be anything less than fully thrilled in today. Doug and I had Fred Hammond's lively version of this Psalm
sung at our wedding ceremony with tambourines and all; maybe a little too energetic for some, but the day you get married is certainly a day to rejoice and be glad. The day you leave for the ever-awaited trip, of course you're glad in that day. The day a baby's enters this world - no doubt you will rejoice! But what about the inbetweeners - each of those are still THE day the Lord has made.

After feeling a little anxious this past week, God reminded me of some real things that humbly returned my hurrying into extreme gratefulness. One year ago today, I was actually pregnant. Pregnant with a baby that we eventually lost; in fact, we lost her on the date that this baby is due. But now, a year later, we are blessed and ready to welcome a child we intend to hold on this side of heaven. Yet, this past spring, we thought we weren't going to have that opportunity either, with a rough early pregnancy that had nurses shocked to see a sustaining heartbeat. But now at full-term, how can I do anything, but rejoice and be glad?? Be thrilled and sing for joy because of what God has done (Psalm 92:4).

I came across own words recently that I expressed just weeks after our miscarriage. After the follow-up appointment, I penned that I had to "...let one woman go before me in line because she was clearly overdue and obviously uncomfortable. I felt my face starting to burn up, heated with the overwhelming desire to feel the awkward agony that this 40-week pregnant mother was feeling. Oh what I would do to have that beautiful distress."

About a year ago, I was jealous, practically in tears, desiring to be in an overdue, pregnant women's (tight and uncomfortable) shoes, and now here I am at full-term entertaining thoughts of "hurry up and let's get this over with"? Nope, God used my own words against myself to remind me to be grateful, to rejoice, right now, today. The days filled with beautiful distress and awkward agony are good, good days. For all of us. And here I am in them, so I will rejoice and be glad - today!

Hide & Seek

Here we go again. It sounds so nonchalant, but when I grabbed the phone to tell my husband I was bleeding, it felt like a reoccurring, familiar nightmare. Not even 6 months ago, we lost a baby around 8 weeks. It was traumatizing, an exhausting experience for me; the process of healing was long and raw. Random tears and sometimes shakes. A longing for a baby.  I’d been given the gift to see her via ultrasound, a beating heart and a little figure looking at me. “Mama?” And then weeks later, late-night in the ER, contractions, delivery, the contents of my womb. My little one swept away into a take-out container, gone forever. I’ll never hold her on this Earth. 

But now - months later, after much healing and prayer and the news of another child – again? For the first few weeks of this pregnancy I felt like a mad woman every time I was in the bathroom, like a kid watching a scary movie through cracks between his fingers. That’s how I’d pee. But in week 11, almost out of my first-trimester, after a couple of check-ups and having just announced the pregnancy to the family and Facebook World days before, the fear was dissolved, not on the mind at all. But then, after going for a nice jog with some friends on one of the first mild days of Spring, I came home to blood. So much blood. I cried on the toilet, whispering at the top of my lungs, “Jesus, Lord…”

The ride to the doctor’s was in complete silence. My husband reached over for my hand and quiet tears fell when I looked at him. His heart was hardening, mine was breaking, again. In the room (the undress from the waist down room), blood spilled down my legs, staining my socks, and pooling on the cold tile. The more blood, the more tears. Spilling all over. “I’m so sorry,” the nurses were already murmuring to me. Then the ultrasound machine was wheeled in, an overly-familiar procedure for me. “Just to check, ok?” I closed my eyes as she squeezed the goo over my belly, a little pressure. “This baby’s moving!” she almost shouted in true surprise. “We got a heartbeat.” I gasped for air as if being submerged under water for the last hour and finally released. A gasp, to keep up with the swiftness of emotions. Lowest to highest in a matter of seconds. It’s enough to knock you out. Another loud whisper was all that followed. “Praise God, thank you…”

It seemed that all the bleeding was from the placenta and the only prescription: bed rest. “Let the height of your activity be reading and folding laundry,” she said. I nodded, still smiling, the baby was fine! Alive and well. It took a awhile before realizing what bed rest with two other babies at home would mean. It’d mean constant help. On Day 4, I heard my son screaming upstairs. My Help had laid him down for a nap and was coming back soon. I just sat on the futon weighing out my options, essentially choosing between children, or that’s what it felt like. What if he fell out of his crib? I could just peek my head in, but then I’d have to climb the stairs. So do I really just sit here? Choose the unborn child over the toddler right now?

The back and forth battled in my head. The worst part (or the best, I’m not sure) is that I felt fine. I wasn’t in pain, didn’t feel ill, the bleeding had stopped. But I had to be still. Just still. God, help me be still.

And when I was still, and accepting of help, and humbled, and trusting, it was peaceful. Can I say…enjoyable? For the first time in a while, I had stretches of alone time to fill. I spent hours in bed, gazing outside in complete awe of the blooming Magnolia tree framing my bedroom window. Beyond that were horses playing and bathing next door, and the constant excitement among the birds was all the praise music I needed. I had a lovely novel, endless ice water, and the envelopment of the warm breeze circulating throughout our old farmhouse. Everything was taken care of, all I had to do was be still. In those quiet moments, I felt so close to God. So cared for. I was stuck here, but He was right next to me. I was content and full of faith. Full of Him.

And now, I’m beyond thankful to be doing well with baby strong. But back to the day-to-day routine. The wake-up, the breakfast  with cartoons, the clean-up, the school lessons, the naptimes, the lunches, the clean-up, the meltdowns, the cooking, the eating, the bathing, the bedtimes. Aaah, then comes some quiet time, quiet time usually filled with something sweet, several sit-coms, and snoring for sure. And at the end of it all, I can’t help but ask where was God today?  I definitely wasn’t in awe of His presence when changing diaper #6. He seemed so much closer in the quiet breeze, that Magnolia!

But I know – He’s not the one hiding. He’s still right here, I’m just too distracted by life off of bed rest. Hiding in the constant going. I’m not being still because I don’t have to be. But in the still, I could hear Him and feel Him. So close. In the busy, I’m seeking, seeking, seeking, but too busy to be still, listen, feel. So I’m the hider and the seeker?  But that won’t ever work.

I need to be like faithful Moses who kept right on going because he kept his eyes on the one who is invisible. ( Hebrews 11:27) Not the girl who kept right on going, so much so, that she missed the One that day.  No, I want to keep my eyes on Him always, in the routine, in the noise, in the diapers. I’ll run with endurance the race God has set before me. And the only way to do this is by keeping my eyes on Jesus, my champion, who initiated my faith and is perfecting it daily. (Hebrews 12: 1-2)

Everyday, constantly still. Not hiding. Exposed. Available. And always, always with my eyes on Him.

“Be still, and know that I am God!”

~ Psalm 46:10 

Wailing to Dancing

"I prayed to the Lord, and He answered me. He freed me from all my fears. Those who look to Him for help will be radiant with joy; no shadow of shame will darken their faces. In my desperation I prayed, and the Lord listened; He saved me from all my troubles. For the angel of the Lord is a guard; He surrounds and defends all who fear him." ~Psalm 34:4-7


It's been a month now since Doug and I lost our little one. I'd be well into my second-trimester by now. Probably with a name picked out already, and maternity jeans starting to reappear in my closet. I'd be sure to do my chest presses and crunches on an incline and stay far away from my favorite peppermint mochas and sushi. But our date night last week ended at our favorite sushi spot and I got my first Starbucks of the season this weekend - bittersweet. I haven't had it in me yet to put away the pre-natal vitamins and my whole winter wardrobe still consists of beautifully bulky, high-waisted sweaters that I treated myself to when we found out we were expecting. The little things. Things I wouldn't have given any thought to before all this, set off the aches and involuntary tears.


When I went to the OB/GYN for my follow-up check a few days ago, I looked around in the waiting room and found myself surrounded by pregnant women and their anxious husbands. I even had to let one woman go before me in line because she was clearly overdue and obviously uncomfortable. I felt my face starting to burn up, heated with the overwhelming desire to feel the awkward agony that this 40-week pregnant mother was feeling. Oh what I would do to have that beautiful distress. My eyes welled up, but I managed to hold them back. Then the nurses smiled and welcomed me until they read my file, and then things quickly turned solemn with a lot of "I'm sorry for your loss" type things. As it's standard to do, I had to pee in a cup for a pregnancy test. "Think of it just for laughs," the doctor said. But I wasn't laughing. At the end of it all, the doctor told me everything was perfectly healed and my body seemed "ready again."  "You can start trying whenever you want now," she said. Surprisingly, I didn't feel happy about that at all. I was glad she deemed me "normal", but I was prepared to wait months like the hospital had told me. But now we're actually talking about another baby? What about this baby? The one I just lost. The one I'm mourning over still...that's what I want to talk about. I felt like an insane person about to cry over seemingly good news - emotions ricocheting and even contradicting each other, like only a woman's mind can do.

Before the miscarriage, I asked God to guard, surround, and defend my little baby. But like the Psalm above said, I also asked Him to free me from my fears. And when my fear came to pass, in my desperation, I prayed His Word through tears, "Hear me God and be merciful to me; Oh Lord BE MY HELP. Turn my wailing into dancing, remove my sackcloth and clothe me with joy, so my heart can sing to you and not be silent, giving thanks to you forever." (from Psalm 30:10-12)


Even though my hot tears fell again late last night at the realization that a month has passed and I still miss and ache for this baby immensely, but with God as my help, there has been much joy. Over and over, God has reminded me that through Him, I will meet this baby and my family will all be reunited in completeness and perfection one day. He has placed people and their shared experiences before me that have comforted and amazed me. And I have a new appreciation for my husband who not only took care of every physical need around me, but also tended to my heart like it was his full-time job. Such joy. And through all this, Doug's been creating a beautifully carved wooden frame for weeks now to showcase our baby's ultrasound and heartbeat image; it's nearly finished. Not to mention, we finally have found a home. We've been given the opportunity to rent an old farmhouse complete with horses for neighbors, a wrap-around porch, and plenty of room for our kids to play and grow. Amazingly, we should be moved in by next week! I am so looking forward to hanging our memorial frame in the playroom, alongside of pictures of Baileigh and Dougie. Turning my wailing into dancing, removing my tattered sackcloth and dressing me in joy. My heart will not be silent. I will sing - forever.

You made me

I am writing right now alone in my bed, with no kids running around or even a hungry husband asking me every 2 hours what we have to eat. It's nice and quiet, I have some time to be with my thoughts and with the Lord, but it's not the typical kind of "mommy time" I desire.

Late Thursday night, Doug and I headed over to the Emergency Room; everything is "fine" now, but I have to take it easy and recover with some good old-fashioned rest. Thankfully my husband took over all of my daily duties for now and seems to be holding up alright, but I'm up here alone in bed, grateful for the break, but almost wishing I had some things to busy me right now...

Just a few weeks ago, Doug came home from work and I told him there was something on my stomach I really wanted him to take a look at. He nervously lifted my shirt and saw written across belly in eyeliner "Baby #3" with hearts all around. He was so excited, we were overjoyed. The next week I had an ultrasound and was able to see our beautiful baby's heartbeat - but the doctor was confused because they saw other stuff in there along with the baby. Tumors, masses, polyps, bleeding? They weren't sure what to call it. So the doctor just said keep coming in every 2 weeks and we'll keep an eye on the baby's heartbeat and just make sure everything is OK. We were a little scared, but my husband was sharing scriptures with me like "Wait for the Lord, be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord." (Psalm 27:14) and "Be still in the presence of the Lord, and wait patiently for him to act." (Psalm 37:7) So that's all that we could do...wait. And our kind of waiting is hopeful, prayerful, confident. Worry creeps in, sure, but we have such a Hope.

So we waited and prayed and thanked God for this life that was inside me. "Right now, we have a baby," we said. "This moment, we have 3 kids and we can be glad for that!" We knew this baby already had a unique genetic blueprint, DNA present for several weeks now that would determine every characteristic this child would have all the way into adulthood, not to mention a strong, beating heart apart from mine that I got to see with my own eyes! It was amazing because it was life, and life is something to be celebrated. So we did, but I asked Doug to please keep it quiet until the next ultrasound, for my own piece of mind. So as difficult as it was, we didn't tell our observant 4-year-old or most family and friends, but still, we were so happy and so in love already.

This Thursday, though, less than a week before my next follow-up ultrasound, I started bleeding. It started out so slight, but when I went to bed that night, it had turned intense, even accompanied by the familiar feeling of early labor contractions. "I think we need to go to the hospital," I said to my husband around 11 pm. We made arrangements for the kids and quickly left, we prayed together in the parking lot, and headed in. After settling in at the ER, I felt the known feeling of downward pressure followed by a natural push. I wasn't sure of it when it was happening, but soon found I had delivered my baby completely on my own - just way earlier than I had ever wanted to. I cried and cried as I watched the nurses put my helpless tiny baby in what looked like a plastic take-out container to be sent out to a lab somewhere. After spending the entire night in the hospital with tests and ultrasounds, it was finally confirmed that I had a spontaneous, complete miscarriage. We were sent home, babyless, around 6 a.m.

So that brings me back to right now, alone in bed, just writing, trying to get my own head around it all and trying to hear God's Word in it all...that's just how I do things. I was randomly e-mailed this Bible verse this morning,

"The Lord will work out his plans for my life-

    for your faithful love, O Lord, endures forever.
    Don’t abandon me, for you made me." ~Psalm 138:8

People have tried to encourage me by saying similar things, like everything happens for a reason or it was meant to be, and while essentially I believe this (see Romans 8:28), my eye was caught on the last part, not thinking of myself, but of my baby "Don't abandon me, for you made me." We have that promise that our God, our Maker, won't abandon us. I believe that for my baby too and I imagine that being the prayer of her heart, "Dear God, don't leave me, You made me." And I imagine God comforting her and holding her and assuring her that she will see her earthly mommy and daddy one day soon. 

 ..............

Doug and I are hurting right now, but we know so many other people have experienced this same kind of hurt, and while I wasn't sure if I was going to share any of this at all, if I could just encourage one person today who has quietly been hurting or struggling with losing a child this way, then this moment of vulnerability is completely worth it. And in the midst of this seemingly never-ending storm of a season for me, I know that God is still there and this is what I want to remember above everything else:

 The one thing I ask of the Lord—
    the thing I seek most—
is to live in the house of the Lord all the days of my life,
    delighting in the Lord’s perfections
    and meditating in his Temple.
 For he will conceal me there when troubles come;
    he will hide me in his sanctuary.
    He will place me out of reach on a high rock.
Then I will hold my head high
    above my enemies who surround me.
At his sanctuary I will offer sacrifices with shouts of joy,
    singing and praising the Lord with music.

                                                                ~Psalm 27:4-6

Waiting

So my family went away on a two-part, 14 day vacation while I was 37 weeks pregnant. I had it in my head for months, that as long as the baby and I can just hang in there until we got home from our trip, then everything would be fine and his arrival would be just around the corner. Well this "corner" is turning out to be a lot longer than it was in my head. I remember feeling this way with my daughter too, certain that another day just couldn't possibly go by without her coming... but it did, again and again.

I'm due in just a few days and last week the doctor told me I was starting to dilate. Finally.. some encouraging news, but of course it added to my anxiousness. I can't stop obsessing over it; I went for walks, swims, did squats til my thighs ached, tried some acupressure, and ate spicy food for two days straight. I had some contractions and a few signs that things were moving along, but no baby! I was frustrated... but at who? Myself? My baby? God?? Then, after a random storm led me and my daughter to Chik-fil-a instead of the pool,  I had a mini-revelation. While eating my  Classic Spicy Chicken Sandwich, a Christian song came on with these simple words... "while I'm waiting, I will praise You, while I'm waiting".

How many times, Lord, have I made the choice to praise you in the midst of waiting. Waiting not necessarily knowing the outcome. Waiting when there is nothing at all left to do. Waiting with great expectation. Waiting, waiting, waiting. And then when God finally reveals what He's been working on, I forget about all the waiting because it was so incredibly worth it. And that's exactly how it works with a baby, too. 

Psalm 40 says, "I waited patiently for the Lord, he turned to me and heard my cry." David waited patiently knowing he would be heard and delivered. Isiah 66:9 quotes God asking us, "Do I bring to the moment of birth and not give delivery?" Literally I hear, "Hey Michelle, do you think God really blessed you with this child, brought you safely to full-term, and then is just gonna leave him in there? Come on." Or in other words, does God bring us through and then not show up? Of course not, He promised He would never leave or forsake us! And aren't we waiting as Christians every single day for another huge promise God has given us - the return of His Son. "Be patient, then, brothers and sisters, until the Lord’s coming. See how the farmer waits for the land to yield its valuable crop, patiently waiting for the autumn and spring rains. You too, be patient and stand firm, because the Lord’s coming is near." (James 5:7-8) 

I'm trying to pick my crops before they are even ripe. I'm counting on my time, not the Lord's. But how humbling is something like waiting for a baby to remind you that you are not in charge, and if you can learn to wait patiently with a thankful heart instead of attempting to control and figure things out on your own, life will be a lot easier and God can do His job. So swallow your pride with me and praise Him WHILE you're WAITING.

Mid-Pregnancy Crisis

According to some of my pregnancy books, I'm officially into my third trimester today. That means I've got about 6 months down, but still over 3 months to go! And lately, especially in the last couple of weeks, I've been getting comments about my growing belly from strangers that make me want to flat punch them out. LOL Some examples? 

Cashier at the grocery store says, "When are you due, looks like any day now." Um.. try August!

Hairdresser at salon says, "Aw.. are you getting your haircut for the delivery?" Nope. 

You know...I've actually been pretty proud of myself too for keeping my weight gain steady and under control (unlike last time!) and exercising almost daily. But I'll admit my belly is pretty popped out there. 

I have a friend who is due about 3 weeks from now and people keep asking if we are due around the same time!  UGH. Her belly is clearly smaller than mine. You have to look closely to even tell she's expecting and she could go into labor any day now! But my husband lovingly calms my comparing worries by telling me, "She's over 6 foot tall, I bet the baby is standing up in there." And when I came home with my "pre-delivery haircut" the other night in complete distress over all this, he took out the camera and actually had me pose just to prove to me I still look beautiful! (Did I mention I love him??) 

While I can try to shake off most comments, the physical toll of this protruding belly isn't letting me ignore some of the truth behind them. I decided for Mother's Day this year I wanted to hike to the top of Mount Nittany with my family. It's an easy trail that takes under 2 hours and has beautiful views of Happy Valley. But yesterday I couldn't even make it up the hill to our driveway. I was huffing and puffing and about to fall over. There goes my beautiful Mother's Day dream! Lol 

Maybe now that I'm in my last trimester I will be able to handle the comments and waddling and fainting symptoms a little easier.. and no matter what I just need to remember that there is a handsome, healthy baby in there right now and there is nothing to stress over about that!