Our Middle (Part 2 of 3)

Tim and I were in the stage of "not not trying" because we'd been trying and nothing happened. I hadn't been on birth control for quite some time. A couple weeks before Thanksgiving, my menstrual cycle was late and I had been feeling so tired. I was still working outside of the home at the time so on my lunch break I went to get a pregnancy test. To be honest, I had full anticipation that it would be negative. But to my surprise, there were two pink lines. I immediately cried and called my best friend. I exclaimed, "I'm so scared!" She reassured me that I could do this - grow a baby and push it out. After that phone call and taking some deep breaths, excitement settled into my soul. 

Pregnancy came easy to me. I didn't struggle with much morning sickness and enjoyed eating for two. Those first moments of feeling him move felt like a little butterfly fluttering around and then that sensation grew stronger until I could literally see the outline of a foot or hand. It was an incredible experience that I'm so grateful for! 

His due date came and went. I had a date on the calendar to be induced. The morning of, Tim picked up IHOP for breakfast and I ate my ever-loving heart out. We checked into L&D and after a low dose of Pitocin, my body started going into labor on its own. The contractions started getting stronger to the point that I felt it was time for an epidural. Unfortunately, my body did not respond well to the epidural and I was given a shot in the thigh (ouch!) to increase my heart rate. From that point, my labor slowed and my body would not stop shaking. After 18 hours of labor, it was finally time to push. Tim was right there in the action and cheering me on while also simultaneously giving me ice chips in between pushes. The stars finally aligned and G was put on my chest.

I was given a small meal and told after the meal I would need to try getting up to use the restroom. It felt rushed, but I was trusting the process. Upon standing up, my ears started ringing and my face turned flush. The nurse got a wheelchair and wheeled me in to use the restroom. It was scary, but the nurse reassured me that I would gain my strength after some rest and more food. I was transferred to the postpartum unit and soon after I started passing large blood clots. The nurse taking care of me on this unit was new and overloaded with other recovering mothers. She took note of the clots but didn't seem too concerned. G was having some issues latching so the lactation consultant was in my room every two hours to help with feedings. Later in the afternoon, she walked in and said, "Oh my! You look really pale. Are you feeling okay?" I mustered up a reply, "No, I'm still passing blood clots." She immediately called the nurses desk and told them to get a doctor. I was pretty out of it at this point but I do remember when the doctor came in. She looked concerned and said something like, "We have to do this now. There isn't time to go to the O.R." I ended up with an emergency D&C right there in my postpartum room and it saved my life. 

I hate that G's story is clouded by my own trauma, but his story is also full of God's faithfulness:

• G was born healthy and happy.
• The lactation consultant who used to work as a L&D nurse knew signs to look for.
• The doctor had the wisdom to skip the O.R.
• G was a laid back baby which allowed for rest and healing. 
• Tim stepped up in countless ways as my recovery was slow. 
• Our family helped for over a month after we returned home. 
• My sister was home for the summer since she's a teacher and was only a phone call away.
• And I could go on and on...

Was delivering a baby everything I had hoped for? Heck no! It was everything I was scared of way back in the beginning. But I'm a stronger, more emphatic woman and mother because of it.

+ If you are interested in learning more about adoption and the services we provide at Christian Adoption Consultants, I would love to chat! Feel free to email me at meg@christianadoptionconsultant.com. +

Pregnancy & Eating Disorders

It started around the age of 12. There is so much that goes into why it started, but what's important to know is that this was much more than a desire to diet or be thin. I finally got help for it in college and made significant changes in my thought patterns. Eating disorders are similar to addiction where professionals explain that you are never fully recovered, but you enter remission. I entered remission in 2009 and it was hard work. But it felt freeing to not be bound by rules, guilt, shame and low self-esteem.

Fast forward to 2014 when I got a positive pregnancy test. What a joyous and scary moment! There were so many emotions. One of those emotions was a fear of what pregnancy and a postpartum body would do to my remission. Up until that point, I'd never seen myself with a belly or being any heavier than my ideal weight. The scale had been my enemy for years and I rarely stepped on a scale since remission.  I knew that pregnancy meant a constant weighing of myself at the doctor's office because that would track the baby's weight. It made sense that they would want to know that the baby is growing and healthy, but seeing the number continually climb to a number I'd never thought I'd see was challenging. Those numbers used to be where I got my sense of control and worth from. I struggled, to be honest. I felt like I had no control, which is a scary place to be for someone who has an eating disorder. I seriously dreaded stepping on that scale each appointment because I knew it was a trigger.

However, I had a moment. A true, God-given moment. It was in my third trimester when I was making sure my outfit looked okay for the day and I literally thought, "I look beautiful...with a belly!" It's SO hard for me to admit that, but the point is that I've never thought that. Not even without a belly. I've been the first to criticize myself with every detail, nonetheless there I was in all of the pregnancy glory feeling comfortable in my own skin for the first time in my life. My body no longer needed to be thin or a certain number on a scale but instead I saw my body for what God intended it to be. His creation.

In 2009 I entered remission, but in 2015 in my third trimester of pregnancy I was healed from my eating disorder. I believe that God used this pregnancy to not only create an incredible baby boy, but He also used it to heal this broken mama. (Don't get me wrong, there are A LOT of other things I need to work on but this was the biggest demon of them all.)