Today My Smile is Forced

so you're pregnant again.  glowing with happiness and expectation.  

congratulations flood you, surround you, then it's my turn to smile, to congratulate. 

And I do. 

I believe in babies.  I am pro-family.  

But sometimes it hurts to smile.  

Sometimes the congratulations feel forced. 

I don't want to feel that way. I want to feel nothing but pure, unadulterated joy for you.

But the lump in my throat is real.  

The pain that comes with experiencing my own emptiness again and again won't be ignored.

Depending on the day your news catches me, smiling may come more easily. 

 I may laugh, and exude more genuine joy. 

But then there are the days when I'm struggling.  

when the grief I thought I was done with is breaking me again.  

of course when you share your news, you can't possibly know that  I'm having one of those days. 

But I am.  

And today, my smile is forced.

Jacie Nevaeh

And so after a relatively uneventful pregnancy ( if you don't count water retention resulting in swollen face, legs, and feet; gestational diabetes requiring finger pricks multiple times daily and a strict diet; and numbness/tingling in both hands), induction was scheduled for my due date, July 20, 2010. I prayed that she would come naturally, but, honestly the pessimistic side of me thought, "Why would I be so lucky?" Then again God's grace shamed and humbled me as I woke up on Wednesday, July 14 at 4 AM with definite contractions -- not the uneven cramping I'd experienced on Sunday, but timed, regular, countable contractions. I woke Conroy up at about 6 AM and we discussed when we should call the doctor. My water broke around 7 AM, urging us to make the call. Per directions, I showered and took my time getting ready so that we left the house around 8:30 AM. As soon as I reached the hospital, I began asking for an epidural, sure that I would not be able to bear the pain on my own. Around 1 PM that finally happened, just as the contractions were becoming toe-curling. The immediate relief from pain made for a quiet, relaxing afternoon as Conroy and I chatted, watched TV and solidified our decision of Jacie's name (Kiera Jewel or Jacie Nevaeh?)

Then at 8 PM, the grand moment arrived. Nurses and the doctor came into the room and started me with the process of pushing. At this point, the epidural was only offering minor relief. As a lady in another screamed, the nurse casually mentioned "... and she had an epidural."

"Don't tell me that!" I blurted, but then mentally pushed the fear of pain from my mind. There was no going back now. One way or the other, this baby was coming out! At one point in the midst of the two-hour blur of pushing, working harder than I'd ever done in my life, I thought and voiced "I can't do this anymore! It's too hard." The nurse repeated the refrain of the past hour " You're almost there! We can see the head." "Yeah, sure," I thought. "That's what you have to say..."

"Well," I remember thinking. "She's gotta come at some point, and I'm surely closer than I was when I began." Then I would look at Conroy's face and see the excitement there. I wanted to laugh in fond amusement at how like my own personal cheerleader he was as he would call out, "You can do it! She's almost out! I can see her head!"

Then, in a blur that I can't even recall, it was over and she was crying on the table next to me as they cleaned her up. I remember looking at her after they gave her to me and feeling an odd detachment. Who is this person? How can she really be my daughter? The word seemed strange to me....

God's Timing

In October of 2009, I began praying Hannah's prayer in 1 Samuel: "God give us a child, a son, that we may give him back to you..." Whether by adoption or by pregnancy, it didn't matter. November found me taking yet another disappointing pregnancy test all the while insisting to myself.... "it feels different this time." My sense of smell, never great, was amazingly strong, a symptom I'd never experienced before. But the pregnancy test must be right.... it had always been so before. Around Veteran's Day, I came down with a bad bronchial infection. I didn't know that's what it was, just that the fever and chills had given way to a tightness in my chest that worried me. So I went to the doctor's. Just before the x-ray, I mentioned that I'd just like to be sure I wasn't pregnant. Sure of another (or the same) negative result, Conroy and I chatted nonchalantly while waiting for the doctor to return, give us the negative answer, and proceed with the x-ray. Instead, she walked in with a smile and a hearty "Congratulations!" Dumbfounded, Conroy and I repeatedly pressed her, "What? Are you sure?" She probably thought we were a little crazy, but I could hardly think straight beyond the swell of emotion that suddenly filled my throat and my eyes. Our dreams come true and prayers answered-- a baby!