Whoosh Moments

I wrote the following snapshot a couple of months ago. I was 37 weeks pregnant and very large. I was pretty grumpy most of the time but I had a few instances that my husband likes to call “whoosh moments.” They are these tiny little breaths of time that are filled with so much joy and so much love that you feel your heart can’t handle much more so it might burst and whoosh around the room like a balloon. The story below is one of those whoosh moments.

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My two year old daughter leans in close to my bulging belly, wrinkling the corners of her little mouth like she does when she’s thinking intently.
“Baby?” she whispers ever so softly.
“Yes, baby Eli is still in there,” I reply, matching her volume level. I’m laying on my back on the couch in the living room. Baby Eli Augustus is due to arrive in just over a week. I’m pretty sure Amelia understands that a baby is in there but I don’t think she grasps what that really means yet. She doesn’t know yet that Mommy is going to be very tired for a while. She doesn’t know yet that we won’t have much uninterrupted Amelia time any more. She doesn’t know yet that our lives will never look the same again. She’s no longer an only child, she’s a big sister. How will she handle it? Will she be jealous? Will she be compassionate? Will she ask to send the baby back? As these thoughts race through my mind, Amelia places a kiss on my belly. Eli kicks hard at that exact moment, right where her lips are.
“ELI!” She throws her hands in the air and falls down around my belly to give her baby brother a hug. “Luh-uuuu-ve you!” She exclaims as she gives him a big squeeze and one more kiss.
My heart burst with joy. I didn’t know it possible to have this much love flooding my system all at once. I feel like I’ve been given the most precious gift imaginable. I know in my mind that many mothers have had multiple children and I understand that most of them must have felt a similar emotion at some point. But my heart can’t grasp the idea that others could have possibly experienced this. This feeling must be unique to me. It must be unique to this particular moment. It just has to be.
Then she’s up and running. The moment is gone and her focus is now on whether or not she can feed the cat a pretend apple. SPOILER ALERT–she cannot.
I am grieved that this particular breath of time has passed, I’ll never hold it again outside my own memory. I’m also grateful that it’s gone, though. It was precious and rare and that makes it beautiful. Eli gives me a little wiggle. I still have one more week with him inside my belly.

Zacharias’ Doubt

**Feel free to print for personal use only**

I encourage you to read the daily passage in context. You can find it here.

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Part 1

“When a child loses his parent, they are called an orphan. When a spouse loses her or his partner, they are called a widow or widower. When parents lose their child, there isn’t a word to describe them.  This month recognizes the loss so many parents experience across the United States and around the world.  It is also meant to inform and provide resources for parents who have lost children due to miscarriage, ectopic pregnancy, molar pregnancy, stillbirths, birth defects, SIDS, and other causes.

Now, Therefore, I, Ronald Reagan, President of the United States of America, do hereby proclaim the month of October as Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. I call upon the people of the United States to observe this month with appropriate programs, ceremonies, and activities.”

Ronald Reagan on October 25, 1988

I have started this post about a hundred times over the past month, wanting to have something valuable to contribute to this national conversation about pregnancy and infant loss. But I don’t seem to know what to say. I am 1 in 4 but that doesn’t help you understand what I’ve gone through.

I’ve lost 2 children in miscarriage. I have 4 sisters-in-law, a mom, a step mom, and a mom-in-law.That’s a total of 8, including myself, adult women in my immediate extended family. Statistics say that out of those 8 women, 2 of us have experienced pregnancy or infant loss but that’s not reality. Reality is that 4 of us have dealt with it in one form or another that I know of. If we extend our statistics base to my extended family including cousins and aunts and such (a total of about 30 women) I can count at least 10 that have lost a child. Don’t zone out on me because of all those numbers. Stay with me a little bit longer. 
These are the losses that I know of. The number may be higher but not everyone talks about it. Not everyone tells others when it happens. The truth is that some women choose to walk through it alone. I get that. I was tempted to keep it to myself when we lost a child for the second time. I chose not to and I think you need to know why but I’ll need to start at the beginning for you to fully understand why.

Several years ago, before my husband and I were married but after we were engaged, I went through chemo and radiation. It saved my life. As a result, I wasn’t able to have children because the treatment had done too much damage. I knew it was a possibility going in but it was well worth the risk. I was alive.

After recovery, growing a little bit of hair back, and marrying the handsomest man alive, we started seeking out fertility treatments. We tried several different methods but nothing worked. Finally, after much prayer and frustration, we gave up.

It was not a defeated giving up, though. It was a God’s-got-this giving up. It was a why-are-we-stressing-about-this giving up. It was burden-off-my-shoulders giving up. My husband and I came to a point where we had nothing left within our own power to do without pouring all of our money into a treatment that may or may not work and decided to give it up to Jesus instead. It was ultimately His decision whether we would have biological children anyway. No matter how much money we spent on medical treatments, God is the ultimate Physician and it was up to Him to make it work or not.

So we stopped doing everything. We stopped all the pills, all the doctor’s appointments, everything. It was the first time I can remember that I felt real peace about what our family would look like in the future. That was October 2012. November 2012 we got pregnant. December 2012 we found out we were pregnant. August 2013 we held our baby daughter in our arms for the first time.

I didn’t really believe it was happening for a while. I needed to hear the heartbeat for myself before I believed it was real so by the time we knew (and believed) we were pregnant, it was almost the end of the first trimester, which is when most people tell others so we told everyone right away. I thought that if more people knew, it might feel more real to me. We put it on Facebook, we called family members, we basically shouted it from the rooftops! Not only was I pregnant after being told I would never be able to have kids, but my body didn’t look one bit like it had had radiation except for a few outside scars on my skin. On the inside, I looked like a normal healthy mid-20s woman. It was a miracle. We would be able to have more kids!

The pregnancy went very smoothly. The birth wasn’t perfect–nothing ever goes according to plan–but it was pretty dang close. I got pregnant again when my daughter Amelia was about 10 months old. This time we were watching for the signs so we knew we were pregnant pretty early on. I made my first appointment with the doctor, got a sonogram, and announced it on Facebook. We assumed it would all go super smooth like the first time.

It didn’t. We lost Leonard at week 10. It was heartbreaking. Absolutely heart wrenching. Nothing I have ever felt compares to the loss of a child.

It happens 1 in 4 pregnancies, my doctor told me and in my mind, that meant we had 2 more pregnancies to go before we might face this again. After  the D&C, we waited 3 months and tried again. Once more, we got pregnant right away and knew we were pregnant early on, at week 5. We went back and forth about whether to announce it right away like we did with Amelia and Leonard. If we announced it and then lost the baby, we’d have to deal with telling everyone again that we were not longer pregnant. I wasn’t sure if I could handle having to say it all again. Ultimately, we decided to announce. If we didn’t and then lost the baby, we would be dealing with a miscarriage alone and that seemed much worse than having say we had lost another child. So we told some close friends and family but before we had a chance to tell anyone else, I started cramping. Bad. We lost Sam at 6 weeks, only one week after finding out about him.

Two months later, about a week after what would have been Leonard’s due date, we discovered we were pregnant yet again. We discussed whether to wait until 12 weeks before telling anyone but quickly decided it was better for others to know. This was not something I could face without support. After telling close family and friends, we posted his first sonogram on Facebook. He was really really tiny.

Now we’re in the counting-the-days stage of pregnancy with Eli Augustus, Augie for short. We have the crib set up and the diapers ready to go. He’s almost constantly moving around. He’s much more active than Amelia was and he responds to her voice with a swift kick to my lungs. I cannot wait to hold him in my arms and see his sweet little face.

We are planning to have more children after Augie, as many as God will give us, and that means we may loose some more babies. I hope we never experience that again but I know that statistically, it’s very possible. We plan to announce each and every pregnancy, no matter how early. Now that you know my story, I hope you better understand my reasons.

1. I need support through the first trimester. I was a wreck during week 6 and week 10 with Augie. I was terrified I’d loose him too. Then I was afraid that my stress over possibly loosing him would be the cause of another miscarriage. So I started worrying about worrying too much. It was a convoluted mess of emotions and nonsense. Having friends sit by me and say “I understand. I remember this feeling exactly,” and having friends come alongside me to pray with me, cry with me, talk with me even if they didn’t understand what I was feeling, that made all the difference in the world.

2. I believe that life begins at conception and I want to celebrate that life no matter how long it lasts. Leonard and Sam were alive and life is something to rejoice in.

3. I am a broken person living in a fallen world who is saved only by the grace of God. I am not plastic or surface level. I do not live in a protective little churched bubble. I am a real person with real issues and real heartache. If I hide my struggles and my weaknesses, it is harder for others to see my need for God.

4. I have a voice and I can use that voice to raise awareness. Other women have lost babies and felt alone, isolated, guilty. I want to be apart of the movement to bring pregnancy and infant loss out of the dark so that women know they are not alone. They are loved and surrounded by others who do know what they are going through. I was amazed at how many ladies told me they had lost one or more babies after I began openly talking about Leonard. Women I had known for years and never knew they struggled through this.

I know we all deal with things differently and if you make a different choice than me, that is okay. I would even say it’s a good thing for your major life decisions to look different than mine. We aren’t cookie cutter people who all need to make the same choice for that choice to be right. But this is the decision we’ve made, the decision that is right for our family. We are going to keep getting pregnant as long as God allows. We are going to keep being open and honest about where our family is. We are going to be ready (as ready as we can be) for what God has in store for us.

Thursday Stories – Collection of a Brave Life

     In Spring of 2010, my father in law was diagnosed with lung cancer. My in-laws lived in rural Ohio at the time, and we live near Houston. Jack’s doctor wanted to surgically remove the tumor, but we weren’t so sure and wanted him to come to Texas to be seen at a top cancer treatment center in Houston, MD Anderson. I can’t even say that we prayed extensively about this, we just knew that having him come to Texas was the right thing. We urged him to come, and both he and my mother-in-law came down to stay with us while he got a second opinion. Cancer diagnosis and treatment is not simple, of course, and in the end they were with us for three months.

     All that time, so much was different in our household, and everyone was so brave. Jack, most of all, showed bravery by meeting every doctor, every nurse, every technician, every treatment with a smile, a kind word, and a chuckle. When we weren’t at MD Anderson, he was working from “home”, where he had set up his office in my kitchen. Rarely was a complaint heard from this man. My kids were brave; they weren’t used to Mom being gone so much as I accompanied my my in-laws to the various appointments, but they handled it wonderfully by helping out more than usual and giving up summer activities without complaint. My mother-in-law helped with the cleaning and missed her home so badly that summer. My husband worked his job as usual that summer and spent many evenings visiting with his parents and supported me in any way he could. As for my part, I had to be brave too, I drove dear Jack downtown every day for 3 months for radiation treatments. At least once a week we stayed all day so he could have a doctor’s visit, chemotherapy, and blood work done too. As stay-at-home mom, being gone so much was very new to me and to the rest of the family. My life felt very topsy-turvy that summer.

     Our family was very blessed by this whole experience. Jack was one of the most patient and kind men I have ever known, and I am so glad that my kids and I got to know him so much better that year. He never got terribly sick while with us and caregiving was not a big issue. His tumor did disappear that summer, and he continued to visit us every three months for check ups. In Spring of 2012, his tumor reappeared and he was advised to get treatment at home this time. He passed away in December of 2012. We will always remember his ability to smile and relax in the face of adversity, and his many quips and quotes. The time he spent in our home and with our children has truly enriched us.

     If you ask me, bravery comes when you do what needs to be done. When you don’t want to but are willing because you know it’s right. I did not really WANT to host my in-laws for an entire summer, giving up the normal school-break fun and activities, and spending countless hours in a cancer treatment center instead. But what I wanted didn’t matter. Bravery just happens because life happens. There is no need to go seeking opportunities to be brave and courageous, they will find you! You don’t need to climb mountains, face giants, or rescue victims to prove you are brave; there are lots of regular-looking folks around you facing unseen battles and being silently courageous.

     I think that when faced with a difficult decision or situation, the only way to deal with it is to draw strength from the One who gives it and to forge ahead. Make sure you are on the right path first, but that is usually obvious. Throughout my life as a Christian, God has given me plenty of opportunities to be brave. Some situations, I can say I met bravely, sometimes I cower and hesitate. I guess my thought on bravery is this–when facing difficulty, trial, fear, there is only one way to deal with it. Get through it. You can do this with or without leaning on God, you can do this with or without leaning on His Word and the Holy Spirit and the love of Christ. You can go it alone, which is also brave, but is more difficult. You can do it with Him and know that you will be stronger for it. The little saying, “If God brings you to it, then He will get you through it” is not scripture, but it’s a quick little reminder to lean on Him in hard times.

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Cheryl Hochstettler has homeschooled her 5 children for the last 19 years. She first trusted
in Jesus at the age of 20 when attending an outreach ministry. She loves to cook, feed
friends, and teach her children. She is involved in meal ministry at her church, providing meals for church family in need. Cheryl and her family moved from her home state of Ohio to the great state of Texas in 2001. Cheryl teaches history at a homeschool co-op in Sugar Land, Texas, with a group of wonderful friends and fellow teachers. She and her husband, Patrick, have been married for 26 years. They like to bicycle together and would like to travel when their children are older.

Welcome Back

My last post was May 14th. That’s 3 months and 18 days ago. That’s a total of 110 days. You could also say it’s 2,640 hours or 158,400 minutes. You might also say it’s about 9,504,000 seconds. You know, roughly. You could say that. But why would you? I already feel bad enough for going so long without chatting with you. I’m back now, though! And I have some really good excuses. Would you like to hear what I’ve been doing with my time over the last few months instead of faithfully writing to you? Here’s my list:

• Growing a baby boy–His name is Eli Augustus and we’re going to call him Augie. He will be born on October 20th. He’s so active, my entire abdomen is almost constantly moving. Seriously, growing a baby is exhausting.
• Running after a toddler–My adorable little baby girl is now suddenly very toddler-y. She turned 2 on August 15th, and she is all two all the way. Please pray for me!
• Getting ready for MOPs–I’m the coordinator this year for our group here in San Antonio, and I am super excited about getting back into it this fall! We’re going to fiercely flourish!
• Napping–I’m growing a baby and keeping up with a toddler. I need naps. Daily.
• Studying–I’ve cut back a lot on my studying, but not intentionally. I have just been preoccupied. That bachelor’s degree will happen one day.
• Swimming–It’s a small little pool in the backyard that I fill up with the water hose. Not big enough to jump into, but big enough to lay down in, and it’s awesome. Amelia loves it. I love it. We swim lots.

See? All legit excuses. But now fall is coming. Now I want to get back into a regular routine, and do things on a schedule again. I miss schedules. Don’t get me wrong, lazy summer days are awesome. But there’s a time for them and that time is coming to a conclusion. So I’m back to writing. I’ve missed you guys!

Would you like to hear about Madagascar some? Well, let me tell you, I’m pretty much sitting around waiting right now. If you remember, I planned to go in 2015 but then I got pregnant, so I decided not to go. Then I miscarried, so I decided I could go. It’s been a lot of up and down since then, including a second miscarriage. There have been several times I’ve thought, “This is happening tomorrow!” And several times I’ve realized it’s not happening any time soon. Currently, I am pregnant and I’m in the third trimester. Next summer I will still be nursing. I will be unable to travel to Mada in 2016. Perhaps the year after. It’s all in God’s timing. When I first felt the fire to go, I thought it would happen right away. I might hit a speed bump or two, but I really thought it would all fall into place and I’d be on the next plane across the world. God had other plans. God still has different plans that mine! So I’m learning to wait on Him. In the meantime, I will continue to pray for Mada and the work that is going on. I will continue to update you on what God’s doing in my life and what God is doing in Mada. And I will continue to press on, waiting for the day I will meet my sweet sisters in Christ on the other side of the planet.

I don’t particularly have anything else to say today other than welcome back. I hope that’s enough for a re-introduction! I’ll end with my favorite verse 1 John 3:18. Go read the whole chapter on Bible Gateway. It’s a passage worth memorizing.