Words are so powerful. They can build you up or break you down. I have a natural God given ability to speak. I love to talk, talk to people, strangers in the grocery store, or even stand in a room full of people and give a speech. So of course talking to God is something I have always found to be rather easy. I guess I've never felt like I have to be proper with God, He can handle my conversation. And so last Friday I was on my way home from work and I was talking to God. Out loud in the car. I know the people at the light next to me must have thought I was crazy because I was rather animated in my speech. But I was telling God how hard this was, how alone and betrayed I felt and how all of this just wasn't fair. I wanted a healthy baby....why was that too much to ask. Millions of women have them every year....why did I have to be the 1 in 3000?? I was pouring my heart out. I told him that I was ashamed of how small my faith was....that it was so easy to give lip service to the issue of trust. So easy to talk about having trust in Him when times are good. Now that times were hard I wanted to be able to lean on Him, I know that He is drawing me closer to Him through all of this but I'm human and at the end of the day I still want a healthy baby. Will I absolutely accept the path that God has for me even if that doesn't include a healthy baby? I know I will...I will still love Him even if this baby dies. Do I still pray for the miracle?....yes....I want my God to overcome this for me. And I told Him that....I told Him that I needed Him to make this right but that it was "hard because I've never had to trust you to overcome death for me before." And that is when God replied to all of my talking....he was so simple and quiet when He said "that's not true."
"That's not true." How could I be so...so...I don't know...stupid? Of course Christ has overcome death! That's the basis of being a Christian!! What was wrong with me? I was walking around like the King of Kings was still in the grave. He had overcome death, the only one to have ever done so and I was talking to Him in the grave. I admitted my idiocy to God. I mjst ahve said it a thousand times....I'm an idiot. I AM an IDIOT. I'm an idiot. In all honesty I was secretly hoping for a miracle but walking around preparing for the worst just in case God didn't fix this. My strategy was to hope for the best possible outcome while preparing my heart to bear unimaginable sorrow. You can't prepare or train your heart to bear disappointment by meditating on the worst case scenario. Now I concentrate on hope while I'm building up faith.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Old time religion
I love old church hymns. I enjoy contemporary worship too but hymns are special. They have a way of expressing things to our Lord that music today just can't. It's eloquent and beautiful and classic.
Edward Mote wrote a song in the 1800's that I just love but didn't learn to appreciate until now. Edward was a pastor in London and was so beloved by his parish that they offered him the church building as a gift. Edward refused saying, "I do not want the chapel, just the pulpit; and when I cease to preach Christ, then turn me out of that." Edward's parents owned and managed a pub, which left Edward to fend for himself most of the time. He was a cabinet maker by trade, but later became a pastor.
Edward wrote this song in two days. One week later he ran into a parish member who asked Pastor Mote to visit his dying wife. It was common to sing a hymn, pray and read a portion of the Bible to those he visited but a hymn book was no where to be found. He had a few verses of this song he wrote tucked in his pocket. He hadn't composed any music to them but he offered to sing them anyhow. The wife enjoyed them so much she requested that the Pastor leave a copy of the verses with her. So captivated with how touched the woman was by these verses he took it upon himself to send an anonymous copy to a magazine. The song was later published in a hymnal and credited to various others, none of them correct. It wasn't until later that it was discovered that Edward Mote was the correct and true author of these beautiful lyrics.
It's a popular song, and most who've attended church have probably heard it. It's words are more true to me today than ever before. I cling to the only hope I know, the Solid Rock that has never let me sink. I sing this song to myself all day as a reminder that I have hope; hope that is built on a solid foundation of love, blood, and righteousness and that when darkness veils its face, I will throw my anchor into the grace of my Lord and cling tight.
My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus' blood and righteousness;
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
But wholly lean on Jesus' name.
On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand.
When darkness veils His lovely face,
I rest on His unchanging grace;
In every high and stormy gale
My anchor holds within the veil.
On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand.
His oath, His covenant, and blood
Support me in the whelming flood;
When every earthly prop gives way,
He then is all my Hope and Stay.
On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand.
When He shall come with trumpet sound,
Oh, may I then in Him be found,
Clothed in His righteousness alone,
Faultless to stand before the throne!
On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand.
Edward Mote wrote a song in the 1800's that I just love but didn't learn to appreciate until now. Edward was a pastor in London and was so beloved by his parish that they offered him the church building as a gift. Edward refused saying, "I do not want the chapel, just the pulpit; and when I cease to preach Christ, then turn me out of that." Edward's parents owned and managed a pub, which left Edward to fend for himself most of the time. He was a cabinet maker by trade, but later became a pastor.
Edward wrote this song in two days. One week later he ran into a parish member who asked Pastor Mote to visit his dying wife. It was common to sing a hymn, pray and read a portion of the Bible to those he visited but a hymn book was no where to be found. He had a few verses of this song he wrote tucked in his pocket. He hadn't composed any music to them but he offered to sing them anyhow. The wife enjoyed them so much she requested that the Pastor leave a copy of the verses with her. So captivated with how touched the woman was by these verses he took it upon himself to send an anonymous copy to a magazine. The song was later published in a hymnal and credited to various others, none of them correct. It wasn't until later that it was discovered that Edward Mote was the correct and true author of these beautiful lyrics.
It's a popular song, and most who've attended church have probably heard it. It's words are more true to me today than ever before. I cling to the only hope I know, the Solid Rock that has never let me sink. I sing this song to myself all day as a reminder that I have hope; hope that is built on a solid foundation of love, blood, and righteousness and that when darkness veils its face, I will throw my anchor into the grace of my Lord and cling tight.
My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus' blood and righteousness;
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
But wholly lean on Jesus' name.
On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand.
When darkness veils His lovely face,
I rest on His unchanging grace;
In every high and stormy gale
My anchor holds within the veil.
On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand.
His oath, His covenant, and blood
Support me in the whelming flood;
When every earthly prop gives way,
He then is all my Hope and Stay.
On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand.
When He shall come with trumpet sound,
Oh, may I then in Him be found,
Clothed in His righteousness alone,
Faultless to stand before the throne!
On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand.
Monday, November 29, 2010
early morning Monday
I woke up early this morning. Really early...before 5am. Which means by 2:30 this afternoon I'll be exhausted. My mind is on overload these days so sleeping has become more of a chore than a time to relax. Wouldn't it be nice if we could just turn off the old thinker for a few hours....just enough to feel rested? I'm exhausted, physically and emotionally. If I weren't pregnant I might actually lose weight from the stress. I'm tired of waking up feeling overwhelmed. It's Monday. Anxiety filled Monday.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Thanksgiving Eve
It is late and I'm still awake. I told Mark today that I have come to the realization that I am an old lady who just needs naps during the day. I'm lobbying for cots and naptime at work. I'm awake because I took a nap from about 6:30 to 10:00 this evening. Mark is still up because he is addicted to Goldeneye on the Wii (thanks Jesse Rine). :) But hey, I have now done 3 loads of laundry, cleaned a bathroom, and emptied and reloaded the dishwasher. Today was a day for epic cleaning at the Eckenrode house. We rearranged the living room, which meant vacuuming behind the couch. Mark had to move all of the furniture by himself, and we have a very heavy credenza...I scrubbed the kitchen floor on my hands and knees, cleaned out our office...which by the way....let me tell you that when you actually clean out your office and go through your mail you just might find a check from your mortgage company for $220 when you've overpaid your escrow account for the year. Open your mail kids, it's not always a bill. :) Isabel cleaned her room too. Yikes, I have never seen a kid that can sleep with so much junk on a bed. She will sleep with mounds of clean clothes, books, DVD's, and whatever else happens to be piled there. I'm surprised she can roll over at all.
It felt good to have a normal day. Mark and I decided to have the amnio. It was a tough choice. Keep us lifted up.
It felt good to have a normal day. Mark and I decided to have the amnio. It was a tough choice. Keep us lifted up.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
A Thief in the Night
I somehow manage to go 15 - 20 minutes without thinking about it, especially when I get busy with something at work. When it eventually creeps back into my mind it hits me like a ton of bricks, like I'm finding out again for the very first time. I don't think the sting of the news is going to go away. Everytime I think of it my stomach turns. I tell myself things like "God is good and His mercy is forever" but good grief I sure could use some peace right about now.
We're still trying to make a decision about an amniocentesis. More people have weighed in with their concerned opinion than I care to count. I know they're trying to help but their scaring me more than anything else. Mark and I need to make the decision that's right for us...and that's hard enough to figure out on our own.
Nights are hard. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night (mainly because I can't sleep on my stomach anymore) and I am so delirious I start to wonder if I dreamt it all. Then I remember and that makes it harder to fall asleep again.
I found a new singer I like alot, Kari Jobe from Gateway Church....I think that's the name of her church. Anyhow, she's the worship leader there. I have burned myself a CD with her song You Are Good...I played it at work all day. I just needed to hear someone tell me all day that God is good.
We're still trying to make a decision about an amniocentesis. More people have weighed in with their concerned opinion than I care to count. I know they're trying to help but their scaring me more than anything else. Mark and I need to make the decision that's right for us...and that's hard enough to figure out on our own.
Nights are hard. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night (mainly because I can't sleep on my stomach anymore) and I am so delirious I start to wonder if I dreamt it all. Then I remember and that makes it harder to fall asleep again.
I found a new singer I like alot, Kari Jobe from Gateway Church....I think that's the name of her church. Anyhow, she's the worship leader there. I have burned myself a CD with her song You Are Good...I played it at work all day. I just needed to hear someone tell me all day that God is good.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Pix
I looked at pictures online today of Trisomy 18 babies. Why did I do that to myself? I need to kick myself in the butt sometimes.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Four
I've known for 4 days. The news doesn't seem any easier to swallow. We're going to tell our church family this morning. I feel anxious inside. I know what everyone is going to say. I know they will cry and have symphathy for us. I'm fortunate to have grown up in this church, they are family.
It's going to be so hard to see all of their sad faces. My kids church kids are going to have a lot of questions. I'm going to try to answer them without blubbering.
Here goes.
It's going to be so hard to see all of their sad faces. My kids church kids are going to have a lot of questions. I'm going to try to answer them without blubbering.
Here goes.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Within these walls
Life can be devestating sometimes. It can go from mountain high to valley low before you can blink an eye. Right now, I'm feeling valley low. As in, shadow of the valley of death low. I'm having a baby with Trisomy 18. Me. Me? Me. I am. It's a reality.
I found out Thursday. It came as quite a shock. I had pretty much convinced myself that my first trimester nuchal translusency test was a fluke and that my blood results would come back totally normal. So when Dr. Nawab called me on Thursday I was floored. What he was telling me was valley low. Trisomy 18. A rare genetic mutation of the 18th chromosome. When babies are conceived they are given 23 chromosomes from each parent. And occassionally, 1 in 3000 to be exact, a third copy of the 18th chromosome. It causes severe mental retardation and physical malformations of the hands and face. He told me that I would most likely miscarry between 18 and 20 weeks. The only way to be 100% sure of the diagnosis was to have an amniocentesis done. The jury is still out on that one. I haven't decided yet. I read that most Tri 18 babies miscarry, and of those that make it full term 50% are still born. The rest don't usually make it to their first birthday. Those rare babies that live, they can never live alone. I believe the exact words of my doctor were "Trisomy 18 is not compatible with life."
I am faced with having to bury a baby. How will I survive the death of my child? My heart is overwhelmed with sorrow. I found this verse in the book of Psalms - "Be merciful on me, Lord, for I am in distress; my eyes grow weak with sorrow, my soul and body with grief." Psalm 31:9 Even in the hardest days after my divorce I didn't feel this tortured. I long for comfort, for peace, but there isn't any to be found. I am standing at a crossroads in my relationship with the Lord; struggling not to be angry and feel betrayed by Him, and on the other hand, struggling to praise Him when times are hard. My mind knows that God is faithful, my heart aches too badly to want to listen.
When I had Isabel, it was hard. I was young and unmarried and everyone was disappointed in me. I promised myself that when I had another baby I would do it the right way. I would would marry someone wonderful (and I did), and then have more children. I told myself it would be exciting, everyone would be happy, and no one would be disappointed. Now, there's enough disppointment and heartache to go around for everyone. I feel robbed, cheated, betrayed. My life's dreams snatched away, stolen, shredded. I look at Mark and think about how much he doesn't deserve this. He is so good, so kind, the type of husband every woman deserves. I look at his face and know that he is being strong for me even though I know he is weary himself. Life is so unfair.
I know it might sound selfish, but I don't want to raise a baby that can never fully enjoy life, never live on it's own, never know who I am. I guess I am more afraid that I will carry this baby to full term and it will live and our lives will be changed forever. We think we're tight on money now? Wait until we have a baby that needs physical therapy, medication and lifelong, round-the-clock care. Isabel will become the kid in the house that has to fend for herself. How will I be able to devote attention to her and this newborn with so many needs? It's funny, when they told me I could be having a baby with Down's Syndrome I was devestated, but when they changed the diagnosis to Trisomy 18, I found myself wishing for the Down's kid. I want to laugh at the Sarah Palin's of the world who make it look like having special needs kid is the most noble thing in the world. Of course it's easy when you make $50,000 every time you open your mouth for a speech and have round the clock nannies to help you. I'll have to quit my job. We'll have to live on one income. Selfish or not, jumping the gun or not, this is how I feel right now.
It's one thing to teach kids church and tell the kids things like "trust in the Lord, for He is good" and another thing to have to live it out by example. I dont' want to walk this road. I don't want anyone to ever have to walk this road. It's an experience I could stand to go without. But here I am. It's all I think about. It consumes every thought of every minute of every day. I sing to myself "my heart trusts in You" - I sing it, but I'm not sure if I mean it yet. I want to beone of those people who stand up in faith and say "My God is bigger than this"...why can't I? Why can I teach it to the kids at church but fail to believe it for myself? Why do I suck at being a Christian so badly? Where is my faith when I need it the most?
Inside these four walls is a house of sorrow.
I found out Thursday. It came as quite a shock. I had pretty much convinced myself that my first trimester nuchal translusency test was a fluke and that my blood results would come back totally normal. So when Dr. Nawab called me on Thursday I was floored. What he was telling me was valley low. Trisomy 18. A rare genetic mutation of the 18th chromosome. When babies are conceived they are given 23 chromosomes from each parent. And occassionally, 1 in 3000 to be exact, a third copy of the 18th chromosome. It causes severe mental retardation and physical malformations of the hands and face. He told me that I would most likely miscarry between 18 and 20 weeks. The only way to be 100% sure of the diagnosis was to have an amniocentesis done. The jury is still out on that one. I haven't decided yet. I read that most Tri 18 babies miscarry, and of those that make it full term 50% are still born. The rest don't usually make it to their first birthday. Those rare babies that live, they can never live alone. I believe the exact words of my doctor were "Trisomy 18 is not compatible with life."
I am faced with having to bury a baby. How will I survive the death of my child? My heart is overwhelmed with sorrow. I found this verse in the book of Psalms - "Be merciful on me, Lord, for I am in distress; my eyes grow weak with sorrow, my soul and body with grief." Psalm 31:9 Even in the hardest days after my divorce I didn't feel this tortured. I long for comfort, for peace, but there isn't any to be found. I am standing at a crossroads in my relationship with the Lord; struggling not to be angry and feel betrayed by Him, and on the other hand, struggling to praise Him when times are hard. My mind knows that God is faithful, my heart aches too badly to want to listen.
When I had Isabel, it was hard. I was young and unmarried and everyone was disappointed in me. I promised myself that when I had another baby I would do it the right way. I would would marry someone wonderful (and I did), and then have more children. I told myself it would be exciting, everyone would be happy, and no one would be disappointed. Now, there's enough disppointment and heartache to go around for everyone. I feel robbed, cheated, betrayed. My life's dreams snatched away, stolen, shredded. I look at Mark and think about how much he doesn't deserve this. He is so good, so kind, the type of husband every woman deserves. I look at his face and know that he is being strong for me even though I know he is weary himself. Life is so unfair.
I know it might sound selfish, but I don't want to raise a baby that can never fully enjoy life, never live on it's own, never know who I am. I guess I am more afraid that I will carry this baby to full term and it will live and our lives will be changed forever. We think we're tight on money now? Wait until we have a baby that needs physical therapy, medication and lifelong, round-the-clock care. Isabel will become the kid in the house that has to fend for herself. How will I be able to devote attention to her and this newborn with so many needs? It's funny, when they told me I could be having a baby with Down's Syndrome I was devestated, but when they changed the diagnosis to Trisomy 18, I found myself wishing for the Down's kid. I want to laugh at the Sarah Palin's of the world who make it look like having special needs kid is the most noble thing in the world. Of course it's easy when you make $50,000 every time you open your mouth for a speech and have round the clock nannies to help you. I'll have to quit my job. We'll have to live on one income. Selfish or not, jumping the gun or not, this is how I feel right now.
It's one thing to teach kids church and tell the kids things like "trust in the Lord, for He is good" and another thing to have to live it out by example. I dont' want to walk this road. I don't want anyone to ever have to walk this road. It's an experience I could stand to go without. But here I am. It's all I think about. It consumes every thought of every minute of every day. I sing to myself "my heart trusts in You" - I sing it, but I'm not sure if I mean it yet. I want to beone of those people who stand up in faith and say "My God is bigger than this"...why can't I? Why can I teach it to the kids at church but fail to believe it for myself? Why do I suck at being a Christian so badly? Where is my faith when I need it the most?
Inside these four walls is a house of sorrow.
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