This blog has been used for so much, but the most important is to tell my family's story. No matter what heartbeat or hiccup is going on in our lives, I can always come here to share and document the memories we create. Something I have put off sharing is my personal journey these past 5 years. It's definitely had it's heartbeats and hiccups- literally, but I wanted to document my feelings on the journey to find myself through motherhood, and ultimately to rekindle my self-confidence, if nothing else than to have it here for my daughters to read when their time to have their family comes. To remember to stay true to themselves no matter what.
I always knew I wanted to be a Mommy. Knew I wanted to take some time from being a professional and stay home to slather myself with Mommy-duties. I wanted a litter of children. My days to be filled with organized chaos; little ones at my feet, chatting with friends while we played with our brood, checking off their little milestones, and hearing the name 'Mommy' from their little mouths. It all played out wonderfully in my head. I had grown up with 3 siblings, a mother to top all others, and parents who did anything and everything to give us the best life possible. I wanted that- every bit of it and felt that with hard work, love, and commitment Pete and I could make that possible.
Sometimes (ok, most of the time;)), those thoughts that play out seamlessly in your head are less than such in reality. I am a perfectionist. I have always thought that if you put in the effort, the time, the dedication for the right reason, than you will prosper and things will be ok. Well, this has NOT been the case with starting and growing our family. I read, asked questions, lived as healthy as I could to better my body to conceive a child. To this day there is still one that hurts in the pit of my stomach: when I heard, "I'm so sorry" after looking at a blank ultrasound without a flickering heartbeat- gut wrenching. "What do you mean?" I followed doctor's orders, I was ready, I was healthy... this can't be. Of all the hard feelings I felt after that miscarriage, embarrassment of myself was the worst. I let this little one down. I let my husband and family down. This was not in the plan. I was heartbroken, lost, and devastated. After prayer, healing, testing, doctors visits, and a surgery, Pete and I DID get to see another ultrasound WITH a flicker. The beautiful flicker and fast-thumping of a tiny munchkin we would call Harper. AMAZING. I learned as I went, but embraced all that being pregnant with her was- loved every second and was so grateful that I would have her. We had done it and she would be ours. Harper was a blessing and incredible from the first moment I held her in my arms. Nothing short of a miracle. We eat up all that parenthood was. Loved the funny times, the clueless times, the chaos, and the quiet moments just the three of us. We were a family and it was unlike any feeling I'd ever had.
But I wanted the chaos to continue. We tried a few rounds of the same drug I took to conceive Harper without luck, so we tried another drug. I thought it would be safe and help 'kick my ovaries into gear' to help give Harper a sibling. It worked... and it worked times THREE! Triplets here we come. And LOTS of research, preparation, and worry here we come. I followed all the directions, did as I was told, and prayed that I would be strong enough to carry these little ones into this world. My body was not so happy: it was sick, it was exhausted, it was strained and hurting, but each week- on that screen- the beautiful flicker of three little heartbeats would greet me. We were a team- THEY were a team. Maggie, Jack, and Nora we named them. Maggie the crazy one, Jack the energetic one, and Nora the sweet and patient one. Seeing them growing big and strong each week- perfect. Everything was perfect until it wasn't. My body seemed to have turned on me... at 23 weeks and 4 days, I gave birth to my perfect little babies- just 17 weeks too early. I was devastated. Trying to stay strong for my tiny humans, my toddler, my husband, my parents. Trying to not throw pity on myself, but the blame was there. I had failed my job of protecting them until they were strong enough. It was not ok. I could no longer protect them and they struggled. I prayed. I cried. I mourned as I held two of my children as they left this earth for a place far better. I got mad. I fought the terrible thoughts in my head, held my breath, and prayed over my sick daughter who somehow found within her 1pound 3ounce self to fight like crazy to stay in this world with us. She was a rockstar and fought like no one I've seen until she was strong enough to leave the hospital- 6 months after birth. She is my hero- no doubt about it.
But the doctors and nurses gave her to us- to ME to take care of. She was still connected to oxygen, still monitored, and I was supposed to be strong enough to care for her?! Could I do this? My confidence was shot. I had buried two children and watched my baby's heart stop countless times. I was scared. I couldn't do this. How?! Why?! I was her mother. I had to. No one else could be her mom. She needed me to not be scared. To show her love. Show her how much her family and I loved her. I could do this. Be strong I said to myself. Fake it till you make it. You got this.
And I did. Those first couple months were hard. I was in shock moving back into our home. Learning our new normal. Learning Maggie's needs. Balancing them with a toddler's. Encouraging my husband to get back to his work routine as I learned mine. I could do this. I WAS strong enough. I could feel my anxiety lessoning. I was learning the lingo of pediatric therapy and insurance. Maggie was flourishing. We were growing stronger by the minute and my confidence was growing. Our family of 4 with 2 angel babies was beautiful. It was calm.
Until that screen lit up with the beautiful flicker of yet another heartbeat. Speechless. Teary-eyed. An incredible miracle. No fertility medication. No monitoring. Just a beautiful miracle of a child on that screen. Could this be?! Was my body strong enough?! But I had just started sleeping through the night with Maggie at home. I grabbed my belly and prayed- God please guide me through this. Keep this little one safe. Keep me safe. But my body wasn't so sure: medicine was needed, surgery was needed, bed rest was needed, and more medication, and two hospital stays, and lots of doctor visits. Our daughter, Evelyn was growing nice and strong, but my body was not so sure it could carry her to term. But we did it, prayer and determination from my doctor allowed our beautiful daughter to be welcomed into this world strong and healthy at 38 weeks gestation. She was beautiful and an incredible gift...
And then I was home. A 2 year old, 1 year old, and newborn all looking up at me. Mommy, we're here and we need you. I think I can, I think I can, I think I can. THAT was my motto those first few weeks. I knew I could do this. God had blessed my husband and I with these 3 beautiful daughters and I KNEW that I could get past my lack of confidence and be a good Mommy to them.
But I struggled. Somewhere in those 4 years of trying to have a family; the heartbeats and hiccups that came with it, I lost myself. I lost my confidence and strength. I knew I needed to find it. My family needed me. My husband needed me. And my daughters needed to know that their Mommy was ok- I was the woman in their life that would need to lead them by example. I spoke openly with my family, friends, and husband of my struggles. They listened, offered advice, prayed, and encouraged.
What has happened to me, to my mind, to my body in the last year has been something I cannot get past. I decided to focus on myself so that in-turn my focus would be a healthy one on that of my daughters. I invested in my health. With the help of a friend I tracked down a jogging stroller, washed it up, aired up the tires and started running. Only 1/4 mile at first before I was gasping for air and feeling like I could collapse, but each morning, the little girls and I would get out in that sunshine and enjoy the fresh air- running a little farther every time. Before I knew it, I was running a mile, than two, then three. My mind became clearer, my confidence rising. A friend of mine asked me to enter a local 5k dubbed the 'Super Hero Race' in September. My incredible husband decided he would like to run with me- in honor of OUR super hero's, Maggie, Jack, and Nora, during their birth month. It was incredible... for the mind and body. I was successful and it was amazing. After the race, I continued... I ran, I worked out, I started back with the blog, and I focused on happy. Keeping myself healthy and happy and teaching my girls how to do the same.
I spent 4 years with a body that struggled to stay healthy. I blamed myself for the miscarriage, the loss of the triplets, and the cerebral palsy diagnosis Maggie received. I spent too much time blaming myself. I decided to throw that to the curb and spent this past year on a journey to find my happy. Oddly enough, I found it in the sunshine, running, and the strength I felt in my body. But I didn't do it alone. Friends, family, and aquaintances I had met throughout this past year helped me get back to me- and I don't know if any of them ever knew it. To those that helped me pick out running shoes, invited me to playdates, encouraged me to stick with breastfeeding, took the time to teach me about Maggie's diagnosis, invited me into a mom's group for those with special needs, helped me with my littles, and encouraged me to keep on the healthy path- THANK YOU. I met goals this past year I never thought I could meet, accomplished tasks and taught my family life-long lessons I didn't know I had the courage to teach.
I write this in gratitude to those who have helped me get back to ME. Thank you. I only hope and pray that I can be there for you as you all have been there for me. I hope to encourage confidence and life-long happiness in my daughters... to encourage them to be strong, courageous woman. But when they're feeling less than- reach out- trust others, and know that you CAN come out bigger and better on the other side. God's plan is perfect. It may not be our plan, but it is THE plan. It's big, but try not to get caught up in the worry and anxiety. It all begins with self-confidence. You are worth it...
