Annika's Turn

Annika's vision has slipped a bit.  She's fighting fluid under her retinas.  Nate, on the other hand, has never been better.  So I really believe it's just a matter of finding the right dose.  She was barely 5 when she was given meds for the first time.  She's growing and her meds have to grow with her.

Two months after increasing Annika's meds by 50%, her left eye is doing better, but her right eye is still getting worse.  So we've increased her meds by another half a pill.  In a few more weeks we'll see if this saves her eye or if we have to go up again.

In good news, Annika in a champion pill taker.  That girl can down 2 pills in one swallow--no problem.  And she's 7! She takes them in applesauce.

Two months ago Emma's eyes were slightly worse.  We bought her a pill box and with her pill taking getting much more consistent her eyes are doing great.

And Nate. Can you believe that only a little while ago we were so worried?  Now he's doing awesome.  He sees 20/20 in his good eye.  I honestly never believed that would happen.

****
Since learning about our kids eye condition more that 3.5 years ago, Beck has been praying for his affected siblings.  At 5, he's been praying for them since he could pray.  He prays for them in every prayer. Every. Single. Prayer. Because we were worried about Nathan for so long, Beck always prayed for Nate first.

"Please bless Nathan's eyes," he prays.  And then almost as an after thought he adds, "And Emma's and Annika's."

But this last month with bad news for my little girl twice in a row, I know I need Beck's prayers on her behalf.  So we talked about rearranging the order--praying for Annika first.

I honestly believe that God listens carefully to small children's prayers.  And I believe that Annika will get better.

Apples vs. Oranges Part III

I was on anti-depressants when I got pregnant with my third child and despite their "C" status, I stayed on them through my entire pregnancy and another two years after.  It was tough going.  As my waistline expanded again for the third time in three years, strangers were shockingly bold.

"Do you not know how to stop this?"

"Do you understand how you get pregnant?"

I even had a woman in Zion's National Park talk very loudly (looking over her shoulder) about how population growth was ruining the world and people who had too many children were irresponsible.  Of course, I was in my third trimester holding a 19-month-old and a three-year-old on my lap, exhausted and sweaty.  Now, not only was I the height of stupidity, but also ruining the planet.  It was a heavy burden to carry.

We moved during that pregnancy and I remembered the women at church did a little spotlight on me.  I had told the woman who called that, though my daughter was 2.5 at the time, she was almost 3 and she should say that she was almost three.  She didn't.  The spotlight said that I had a 2 and a half-year-old, a 17-month-old and was expecting another baby in July.

As they read the spotlight in church, the ladies behind me whispered, "How is that even possible?"

I felt foolish everywhere I went.

****

There were at least a dozen miracles that surrounded my third child's pregnancy.  They were what I clung to, trying to remember that God was there.  That He hadn't abandon me. Those are the only stories I usually share.  And I got a happy ending, too.  Nathan James was born on July 16, 2002 weighing a whopping 9 lbs 10 oz despite the fact that he was 15 days early.

The medicine that was prescribed to push the cancer meds out worked.  Nathan had no ill effects of the medicine.  He is one of my three with Macular Degeneration, but because I wasn't on cancer meds with the girls, no doctor finds any correlation.

But I wanted to address myths about surprise pregnancy.
1. That they are no big deal.
2. That there is no mourning.
3. That the mother had a choice.
4. That the problem is temporary.

For me, this "surprise" rocked me to my very core.  And whether I should or not, I mourned.  Even as I held my new baby boy, I would tell him how very sorry I was.  Sorry that I hadn't been more excited.  Sorry that I wasn't a better mother.  Sorry that I had wanted a girl.  Sorry.

A woman I was very close to, got pregnant around the same time I did.  She miscarried and I watched as that rocked her to the core.  And despite everything, against all odds, I remained pregnant and carried a healthy baby full-term.  It didn't make any sense to me at all.

The struggle didn't end when he was born.  I had so many dark days over the next few years. My heart would break over the things I had wanted to do, but couldn't.  And all 11-years-old of him proves the permanence that a surprise pregnancy brings.

As a pro-life, God-fearing woman, I only had one choice:  to continue my pregnancy.  I'm not really sure what that means when these women would say, "They have a CHOICE."  What choice did I have?  Once you're pregnant, what choice do you have?

True, not all surprise pregnancies are this traumatic.  My 5th was a surprise too, but a surprise I was infinitely more equipped to handle.

In any event, who are we to judge?

Perhaps someone can read my story and still say it's nothing.  But it wasn't "nothing" to me.  And in the same way that we work to be sensitive to those struggling with infertility, we should be sensitive to those who are too fertile, too.  Let's not look at anyone's trial and just assume that it's no big deal.

"Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle." --Ian Maclaren

Apples vs. Oranges Part II

Medication is given a ranking in reference to how dangerous it is to be taken during pregnancy.  Tylenol and prenatal vitamins get an "A."  To my knowledge, they are the only meds that do.    Most other drugs get a B, C, or D.  Most of anti-inflammatories I've taken for my arthritis are in the C - D range.  Basically, I could continue taking my anti-inflammatory until I knew I was pregnant.  Then I had to stop immediately.  Only a handful of the most dangerous drugs get a Category X.  The meds in this category have known, terrible side effects for the unborn baby including death and major deformation.  You must not get pregnant on these meds.

When my doctor gave me the loading dose, he told me that I had to not get pregnant for at least two years.  I should let him know when we wanted to start trying.  They would have to test my blood for the level of medication still in my system.  They would then prescribe me meds to push this cancer med out of my body.  My blood would be tested again.  Then I would get the OK to get pregnant.

I knew the drill. I was religious with my pills.  Not only did I never miss, I took them precisely 24 hours apart.  I had had a bladder infection a few weeks earlier.  I knew the antibiotic I was given could make my pills quit working.  We had used condoms as a back-up.  I wasn't willing to risk it.

*****

I stood in line at the pharmacy to pick up my medicine.   Two people in front of me was my visiting teacher and dear friend, Talei.  Her youngest child was three and she and her husband wanted more kids.  They struggled with infertility.  She was there to pick up her fertility meds, hoping it would help her get pregnant.  Here I was pregnant against my will and hoping to save my baby. My two children were both younger than my friend's youngest.  The irony of the whole situation made me shake my head.

When Talei turned around she spotted me and said hi.  I told her what had happened.  "I'm so sorry," I whispered to her.

"Don't worry," she reassured me, "I'll get my baby."

Every night my husband and I knelt by our bed and said prayers.  I always began thanking God for blessings.  This day, I almost couldn't choke out the words.

"I thank Thee, " I began.

I couldn't think of one thing I was thankful for.  Things had been so hard this year.  Wendell was on his 4th full-time job.  After 4 months of marriage therapy, our student therapist ended our therapy,  thinking we could manage things.  Money was tight.  Wendell's schedule as a car salesman was terrible and we believed this was yet another in-between job while we waited for the real deal.  We didn't even qualify for insurance yet.  I felt, in that moment, completely abandoned by God.

"...for helping us get through this day." It was all I had.  I sobbed into my bed.

I mourned the loss of my body.  I mourned my loss of control.  I mourned for all that might happen to my baby. I even mourned bringing another child into a marriage in turmoil.

In the days that followed, I sobbed into my bed many times as I talked with God.

"Why me?" I asked.  "I can go up and down my street and tell you all the women who want this baby right now.  Why would you send me a baby?  We don't have a good job. I have two small children.  I don't know if I can stay in this marriage. Please, let me miscarry and send this child to someone else. If this baby has to die, let it be now.  You see, if it dies later, I'll have to have another c-section.  A c-section, Father, to get out a dead baby. Why? Why did you send me this child?"

Most of the day, I felt awash in guilt.  Shouldn't I be grateful, happy, excited?