Strength in Grace

When I was pregnant with Lera, after we found out that we wouldn’t get much time with her once she was born, lots of little things would bring me to tears. 

Just the thought of the book “Goodnight Moon” or “I Love You Forever” would make my eyes tear up. However, the song, “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”, was even more devastating.

As a kid, I used to love this song. I remember singing it with my sister all the time. I would fantasize about how much I would love to sing it to my baby, when I was a mommy; whenever that day would come. 

I never got that chance.

And, the thing is, I wasn’t actually emotional because I wouldn’t be able to use this song as a lullaby. It was the lyrics themselves. It was the fact that the next time I see my precious girl will be “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”.

I remember telling my husband this, and confessing that it had been in my head all day, so I was super emotional. We thought that, maybe if we listened to it, we could either a) get it out of my head, or b) be able to talk about what part of the lyrics were troubling me.

He found the version that was in my head (Judy Garland from “The Wizard of Oz”), on youtube. From the first note Judy sang, I lost it. 

Completely. 

Lost. 

It.  

I mean U-G-L-Y cry. 

Needless to say, we turned it off, and I cried the rest of the way home.

Now, however, when I think about the song, it doesn’t bring the intensity of the emotions that I felt while pregnant, but has, instead, revealed an entirely new meaning to me; hope.

I think the bridge will always remind me of my Lera.

“Someday I’ll wish upon a star, And wake up where the clouds are far behind me. Where troubles melt like lemon drops and way up on the chimney tops, Is where you’ll find me.”

But the second verse, specifically the last sentence, has been striking a chord with me.

“Somewhere, over the rainbow, Sky’s are blue, And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true.”

I thank Jesus everyday that He has kept our hopes high. He has given us peace to proceed back into trying again for another baby.

And, that said, 

Stephen and I are overjoyed to announce that our rainbow is expected to arrive late May 2016. 

As excited as we are, I won’t lie, we are crazy anxious (well, mostly me; and, mostly, during ultrasounds).

So we would like to ask you to pray for the following:

For Peace. It seems like everything that is even a little familiar of last time, is sending me into a panic that I might miscarry. It is ridiculous.  I’m grateful for my patient husband who reminds me that “I have a right to be paranoid”, but at the same time, I know that no matter what, we’re (me and baby) are in the safest hands possible. May the Prince of Peace continue to remind me that he is going before me, and already has.

For our move. Please pray that the Lord will find help us the best place for us, and our (now growing) family.

For our little one.  Please join with us that this pregnancy will be 100% healthy, and that the outcome will be a perfect little person, and that every ultrasound will confirm just that.

We are so thankful for those who have been praying for us over the past year. Your prayers have been felt and answered.  I’m so happy of the peace and joy the Lord has given me despite circumstances that were trying to crush me.

May cannot come quicker.

I’m working on a next blog post, but while you wait please see the above.  

I’ve heard of Danielle Walker’s story of her daughter Alia while I was pregnant with Lera.  it was actually one of the first stories that I read during that time that I felt I could truly relate to.

She’s pregnant again, and even though I don’t know this person at all, I am ridiculously pumped for her and her family! (They are expecting a very healthy baby #3!!)

As much as I am excited for my next pregnancy, and as much hope as I have, fear is still there.  I’m already nervous for my future ultrasounds, and I’m not even pregnant! 

Thank you Danielle for this lovely article.   Its a great reminder, and I hope that others who read it, no matter what situation you are in, that you face it with faith over fear.

Hope.  

Something that satan tried to rob me of over the past year; Hope. 

The word that is so small but carries so much weight, especially after tragedy. 

Something we all need in life to continue to move forward but, for some, something so hard to find; and, sometimes, even harder to hang on to.

A little over 7 months later, and I feel like the events of the year has been a dream; an awful but beautiful dream. One which is as much apart of me as the stretch marks lining my stomach. 

Sometimes I still feel the empty void in my heart, of what should have been my daughter, which is when grief starts to sear; red and hot.  

Other times, thankfully more often than not, all I feel is love, comfort, and hope. Lots of hope. Even in the times when the waves of grief start to overcome once again, I know my heart is in the best hands. 

How great is our Father in heaven who takes such tender care of our broken hearts. I am grateful for his gentle leading, patience, acceptance and love as we still experience the waves of pain from the storm which has just passed.  

Getting our diagnosis for Lera in January was the first spark, the first light, in what seemed like the endless tunnel of continuous bad news and tragedy for our family. Having that firm diagnosis and knowing that it would be very unlikely to repeat itself felt like a physical weight was lifted off of my shoulders, and I was given peace. 

I knew without a shadow of a doubt that everything was going to be OK.  This is when the first pieces of my shattered heart were beginning to be fused together, and hope began to shine much brighter than fear.  Jesus knew I needed that physical proof that our storm had passed before I could begin to see the silver lining - and He gave it to me.

From that point on, Jesus continued to pour more hope into my heart. Each broken piece he put back together, he sealed with more of his promises;

Psalm 113:9 “He gives the childless woman a family, making her a happy mother” Isaiah 43:19 “For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness. I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.” Isaiah 61:7 (MSG) “ Because you got a double dose of trouble and more than your share of contempt, your inheritance in the land will be doubled and your joy go on forever.” Hebrews 6:15 “And so it was that he having waited long and endured patiently realized and obtained what God had promised” Hosea 2:14-15 “But then I will win her back once again. I will lead her into the desert  and speak tenderly to her there.  I will return her vineyards to her and transform the Valley of Trouble into a gateway of hope.” Psalm 34:18 “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted. He rescues those whose spirit's are crushed.” 1 Peter 1:6 “So be truly glad, there is wonderful joy ahead even though you have to endure many trials for a little while.” Psalm 103:4-5 NLT “He redeems me from death and crowns me with love and tender mercies. He fills my life with good things. My youth is renewed like the eagle’s!”

I can now say with confidence that good is coming. I don’t know when it will happen, whether it will be all at once, or slowly.  I don’t know what it will look like, or how it will start, but I do know what I will do.  

I will continue to pray and put my trust in the only one who knows my heart better than I know it myself.  The one who created me and my precious girl, the one currently dancing with her in heaven. I am standing upon the rock, and His word knowing that the Father will redeem my family.

So this is what I’m believing for our very near future:

A baby!

This may seem obvious. We got pregnant the first time because we wanted to expand our family. This desire has remained unchanged.

Now does this mean that we are looking for a “replacement baby” for the one we lost? Absolutely not.  I would never want to replace Lera.  I would want her healthy and whole so my husband and I would have the chance to be the parents we always dreamed we could be. However, that isn’t the reality I’m living in.  The reality is that she couldn’t stay with us but, I believe that because of her and the journey we endured with her that, we are better people (and better parents) for it.

For this I look forward to parenting Lera’s siblings, and the journey they will take us on.

I’m believing for more healthy children in (hopefully) our very near future, who were carried through very uncomplicated, low-risk, healthy pregnancies. Not just because I want it so badly, but because I believe, wholeheartedly, that this is what the Lord desires for us.

Abundance and joy overflowing.

Isaiah 61:7 (MSG) “Because you got a double dose of trouble and more than your share of contempt, your inheritance in the land will be doubled and your joy go on forever.”

Now I know I put this verse up earlier, and no, I’m not trying to beat a dead horse.  This is just what I believe.

We got a double dose of trouble. Our whole world, hopes, dreams, and plans for the future, literally turned into dust before our eyes.  Ministry goals, family aspirations, all shattered during the year leading up to and after Lera’s life and death.

Literally, everything is different.  Well, almost everything.

The one thing that is the same is the place we live.  We built this massive house for youth ministry, other church events, and a growing family.  

Since we are no longer in youth ministry, or even go to church in Spruce Grove anymore, the house seems, well, empty.  It became suddenly much bigger, and much colder than it ever had been before. Truthfully, between work, church and friends, we don’t even spend much time here.

So we’re taking a leap of faith, we’re going to move. 

We are going to downsize and, Lord willing, rent a much smaller apartment in the city. Many of these details are up in the air, but one thing is concrete, we need to move.

I believe this move will bring us into abundance and joy overflowing.  I think it’s the wisest option, and will give us time to save, rebuild, and figure out what our future has in store.  

All of that being said, is this at all easy for me? No, in fact, its super hard.  

We put all of our hopes and dreams into this home that we built. We truly felt called by the Lord to place a foundation in Spruce Grove, and to use this house for ministry. For a little while we did and, as the house filled, so did our hearts.  

We love our city.  We love Spruce Grove. We love the people here. We love the neighbourhoods. So, for us to leave, it is heartbreaking. 

The reality is, however, we aren’t doing anything of those things in Spruce anymore.  We’re not in ministry here, or have jobs here, so as much as we love it in Spruce Grove, we really do, we feel it’s time to move forward.

So, just as God called us here, I feel that He is asking us to leave.  For how long, i’m not sure.  We might come back, but for now we are trusting in His leading that this is the right thing for us to do.  

What I’m most grateful for, is that we serve a God that always, keeps his promises, and one who always provides more than enough. This is why I’m believing for the above. My hope, joy and peace rests in one person, Jesus. This is why I’m excited, and where my hope comes from.  

Father’s Day

Over the past few days we have had a few conversations, with different parent who remember being told, at one point or another while they were pregnant, that “you aren’t a father/mother until after your baby is born”.

They all thought this was ridiculous, and I agree.  My husband was a Father to our child, as I was her mother, through out my entire pregnancy. Also, we are still parents, even though our child is no longer with us.

Below is an account of how my husband is the best Daddy to our little girl, before and after she was born.

If you are a bereaved parent, I pray that the below is an encouragement to you. Your fight for your child was worth it, and how you continue to move forward is another way for you to parent your little one.

                    _____________________________________________

There are not many words to truly describe the admiration and love I have for my husband, Stephen.  From the moment we found out that Lera was coming, whether he realized it or not, his fatherly instinct was kicked into high gear. 

He rejoiced at the positive test, and would gladly go and buy me jugs of orange juice to satisfy my intense citrus cravings. 

He was at every obstetrician appointment. 

He rejoiced with me when we heard our baby’s heart beat, beautiful and strong for the first time, and shared it with others (always the proud Dad). 

He continually held my hand and whispered encouragement to me through each ultrasound, and as news of our daughter kept getting worse and worse. 

He wept with me, and held me up. 

He would pray for us daily, and when we got the worst of news, fasted and interceded for our little one at every opportunity. 

He updated everyone on how we were doing, and was able to articulate our pain and joy, beautifully, through the worst of times.  

When I woke with nightmares, he would calm me down and pray with me.  

He would listen to the same worship albums, over, and over, and over, and over, without complaint so I could sleep.  

When I was getting bigger due to the extra amniotic fluid, he would help me put on my shoes and socks. He would also pick up things that I would drop, which would happen a lot, as I’m usually quite clumsy, but add 38+ weeks of baby weight and I was exceptionally clumsy. 

He rejoiced with me when he was finally able to feel her little jabs.  With the extra fluid, it was not very easy.   

Right before being admitted to the hospital, he was up with me every night that I was too uncomfortable to sleep.  

He would get be warm blankets when I felt nauseous, he would draw me baths, and grab me glasses of ice.  All without complaint.

At the hospital he was buy my side 99% of the time, and during the times he had to leave me, he made sure I wasn’t alone.  

He adjusted my pillows about 500000000 times in the middle of the night, and slept on what I can only imagine to be the smallest, most uncomfortable pullout the medical system had to offer, for over a week.

He fought for me, and Lera unwaveringly, and unceasingly the entire time, through protectiveness, devotion and love.

After Lera was born, He was the most attentive Daddy.  This is why I chose the photo you see above.  Before Lera was born, we made a birth plan.  In this birth plan it stipulated that after Lera was born, I wanted Stephen to hold her right away.  I wanted him to have that special time with her, the way I saw it, I got a little over 8 months to carry our baby alive and well, I was able to get to know her likes, and feel her movements.  I wanted him to have her, and be able to hold her while she was alive, for as long as possible.  To get some special Daddy Daughter time.  

I am so happy he got this chance.  For the approximately 10 minutes that Lera was with us, she was cradled by my husband, and we poured our love on her. He gave her a shower of kisses and beautiful words, as well as watched as the life slowly left her little body. 

After she passed, he gave our baby a sponge bath, and memorized her face. Then once we were in our room after my section, he insisted on swaddling her. The only other time he let the nurses do it, was when they were teaching him, and even then, he unravelled and re-swaddled.

Once everyone left, Stephen stayed up.  He made the most beautiful birth announcement for Lera, and posted it online (you can see it here http://leragrace.com/articles/leras-birth-announcement/). Then when we returned home, he made her a stunning website, where we could share our story (www.leragrace.com), all in hopes that our story is able to touch someone else, to help them if they are in a similar situation, and bring glory to Jesus through Lera’s beautiful, short life.  

In short, he used every gift and every ounce of love that he had in him, and poured it on our little family.  Something he does daily.  

6 Months Later

Broken Vessels - Amazing Grace

On a particularly windy Wednesday at the end of April we headed, once again into the University of Alberta Hospital's Medical Sciences Building for our appointment with our wonderful Genetic Councillor Cherise.

Now, what not many know, is that we in fact, have our formal diagnosis for our Lera.  We received it in January, which was A LOT faster than we were anticipating.  We were originally told that it would take 6 months to hear back. Our Geneticist Dr. Leonard called me, and a little over a month after Lera was born, they confirmed that our Lera had Thanatophoric Dysplasia (TD) type II.

This condition occurs when there is a mutation in the FGFR3 gene, there are two types, both are always lethal.  Now our little one had type two, which is characterized by

straight, short long bones (arms and legs; more specifically the humerus and fermur),

a narrow chest, 

and in some cases, a clover-shaped skull.  

This meeting was the one where we were able to ask all of our questions and get detailed answers, in person, straight from genetics.  

Unfortunately our Doctor was unable to attend. Instead, one of her colleagues, Cherise, a genetic councillor, met with us and was amazing.  Not only did she answer our many questions, but she also agreed to let us video tape her answers for our posterity and to share with friends and family (video to come). We also received the full copy of Lera`s autopsy.

Its truly amazing how seeing your baby’s name on the top of  a piece of paper, in bold under “patient name” makes your heart soften, I even traced my index finger over the letters.  Then I began to read.  Most of what I read were things I already knew. Female newborn, birth weight 2390 g (5lbs 4oz), Thanatophoric Dysplasia (TD), Type II, “On external examination, features of a lethal skeletal dysplasia are present with macrocephaly, a narrow chest and rhizomelic shortening of the limbs”.  It told us why she had hydrocephalus, which is actually quite common for this particular type of TD.  It told us how she survived for less than one hour, and that we would receive counselling regarding this condition and that it almost always represents a “de novo mutation”.  “De novo” is a Latin expression meaning “from the beginning”, “afresh”, “a new” or “beginning again”, so this confirmed that Lera’s condition was due to a spontaneous genetic mutation during her development.  There was nothing we could have done to prevent or fix it.

She simply just wasn’t meant to stay.

Immediately upon reading the autopsy, Hillsong was placed in my head, singing “Broken Vessels - Amazing Grace”.  When I was pregnant with Lera, especially after her initial diagnosis back in September, I would listen to this album to fall asleep.  This was one of my favourite songs.  I felt that it described my situation perfectly.  At first I only saw myself in the song, and my situation.  Now I see both myself and Lera.  

All these pieces Broken and scattered In mercy gathered Mended and whole Empty handed But not forsaken I've been set free I've been set free

Amazing grace How sweet the sound That saved a wretch like me I once was lost But now I'm found Was blind but now I see

Oh I can see it now Oh I can see the love in Your eyes Laying yourself down Raising up the broken to life

In this world, my Lera was broken; her body was, so she couldn’t stay.  Now, though, I know that, through God’s mercy, she is now mended and whole. I know, and have assurance that she is with Jesus,  saving a place for us.  She is whole and spectacular. I’m empty handed, but not forsaken, we both have been set free. Lera, set free from the tiny body that would do her no favours here, and me, set free from fear, regrets and doubts.  Where there was pain, God changed to purpose.

One of the most important questions we had to ask in the meeting was, "What risk does this put us at for future pregnancies”.  

As her condition was completely spontaneous (not hereditary, whatsoever, in either of our families) we had a good feeling that the chances of repeating the same nightmare were low, but we still wanted to hear it from the doctors. It is always possible, for lightning to strike twice, but we wanted to know how close to the rod we were.  We were told that we had a less than 1% chance of this happening again.

I’m not going to lie and say that there won’t be any anxiety in our next pregnancy, because I’m only human, but I have assurance and faith that it won’t happen again.  In fact, I am about 99.9% positive that it won’t, and will be about 0.1% anxious and worried. I am however very excited.  

Truthfully, I’m excited about the family that we will have, about my next pregnancies, and the beautiful siblings Lera will have in the future.  

So my new most favourite worship bands as of late is #bethelmusic. Honestly if you haven’t hear them before, you need to! This is one of my favourite songs from this particular album (You Make Me Brave).  When I feel the most doubtful of what is to come, when i feel worried/anxious, when I miss my daughter the most, or when I just need to hear the promises of the Lord, I listen to this song. 

Sometime, I would say probably in October of last year, well enough after getting the worst news possible about out precious girl, and far enough into it that we decided to plan for the worst, we made a decision.

We were eating dinner, and my husband looked at me and said, “I was thinking about something, but feel kind of bad about it; it’s bad.”  

At this point we were telling each other everything and, usually, what he would bring up, whether good or bad, I had already thought about.  So, I responded with, “What is it? I’ve probably already thought it.”  

“Ok”, he continued, “If the worst happens, and she dies, I was thinking we should get out of town. Go on a vacation.”  

I laughed, “I have already started pricing out how much a Disney Cruise would be.” 

He rolled his eyes and asked, “If we were to leave, how long would you want to go for?”

“Like a Month.” 

“Okay.”, he said, and we shook on it.  Decision made.  

Were we giving up hope that God wouldn’t heal our daughter?  No, we prayed continually and constantly for her.  We would have much rather have sleepless nights and poopy diapers rather than a trip. We simply decided that, if things didn’t go our way, that we needed to escape. 

It was one of the best decisions we made.

So, a short time after Lera was born, and passed, it was brought up again, “Where do you want to go?” 

“I want to go to Hogwarts, and Disney World, and happy places.”

So this past February, after the most horrific pain we had ever endured as a couple, we jumped on a plane to the Happiest Place on Earth, and had an amazing time. 

We had saved up quite a bit of money for Lera’s birth; money that was to be spent on a nursery and baby stuff when she came home with us. Since she had passed, we decided to use these savings (against our better fiscal judgement) for our trip.

In hindsight, it was worth every penny. We did almost everything Florida had to offer: we went to Disney World, Universal Studios, had an magical cruise on the Disney Magic, and drove the Florida Keys with the top down in a convertible (see photos below). 

One of the best gifts God has ever given me is my husband, Stephen.  Our relationship means everything to me, and I take our marriage seriously.   Throughout our journey with Lera, during and after my pregnancy, we sought all of the mental help we could though phycologists, couples counselling, and grief counselling. Mainly we made our marriage a priority though the worst of situations.  This trip, was one of the ways that we did this.

The sad truth is that some people criticized us for this decision.  We had sort of expected it because we know that, for people who have never truly mourned before, grief is really hard to understand. 

This post if not for those people. I don’t feel that I need to make excuses for our choices. However, I feel that by sharing our reasons for the trip, it may give other people going through grief tools that can help them find a light at the end of the tunnel. I want to share what helped us find our new normal.

It gave us something to look forward to

After Lera passed away, we felt like we were left with nothing. When we started planning our trip it gave me something to do with my time, and something tangible to look forward to. 

I find it super important, especially while going through trials, to be able to look forward to something. After months of bad news, pain, loss, and disappointment, to be genuinely excited about something, was truly healing to both my husband and I.

We were able to make plans about the future that didn’t involve funeral homes, hospitals, appointments, or doctors. It didn’t involve other people, just us; and what we wanted.  It enabled us to be self focused on something that was fun.

This was desperately needed.

It gave us time to mourn

We are busy people.  Really busy people. When we are at home, our weeks and weekends fill up quickly. With ministry, friends, family, and, for my hubs, work. 

In January, after Lera was born, it was shocking how fast it was for us to get back into our usual routine. We found this super frustrating. 

We had just had a baby, but everything was wrong. Our whole lives should be turned upside down attending to a baby. However, as soon as Christmas was over, things were back to normal.  It was like it hadn’t even happened.  This huge, life changing event happened to us, everything should be different, but it wasn’t.

Leaving the country and physically getting away from our “status quo” was like a breath of fresh air.

We were able to reconnect

Through our struggle, we found that we developed a new form of intimacy.  We connected in our grief. No one, but each other, really understood what we were going through. We held each other up during the darkest time of our lives.

Our trip allowed us to reconnect through activities we enjoy, instead of just connecting through pain and mourning. 

For a period, grieving with my husband, brought him and I closer together. However, I believe that we needed to make sure that we have proper balance for our long term relationship. Doing things we enjoy together, for pleasure, allowed us to find that balance again and romance re-entered our marriage. 

We were able to re-discover what was most important

For us, our time away was a true sabbatical. We took time to pray, and ask Jesus for direction in our lives and ministry. 

Now, almost 3 months since we returned from our trip, our lives look very different. This is because our priorities, and how we look at the world around us is different. 

This is OK, and we needed the time, alone, to figure that out.

Did we grieve on our trip? Absolutely.

More than once I burst into tears feeling guilty for having fun without my baby. More than once, I would look around and think how I would trade all of this to get my baby back.  

I still would. So would my husband. The reality, however, is that we can’t.  Our trip was the first time we made some lemonade out of the lemons life threw at us.

Was it hard coming home? Yes.

Not only did we know change was coming, as far as our ministry was concerned, but we also knew that once we came home, grief would hit again.

When I came home, the house was as we had left it. I still had all of Lera’s things laid out. I looked at her tiny hands and feet, and allowed myself to cry. I missed her. I still do. 

I believe that our trip helped us deal. It became easier after coming home to continue to make lemonade. It gave me a new outlook. 

It also helped prepare me for the other, painful, “firsts” that I am now experiencing; like mother’s day, or the anniversary of the day I discovered I was pregnant. I am able to meet those anniversaries head on, and celebrate what God has done rather than what is missing.

Jesus used the warmth of sunny Florida to comfort us.  He drew us out, closer to Him and closer to each other.

Whatever you are going through.  If it is truly stressful on your marriage, I strongly encourage you to get away; for even just a weekend, or a week. It does not have to be a month in Florida.

Spend some time focused on you and your relationship.  You won’t regret it.

When I was pregnant with my Lera, I was the most fearful I have ever been in my life.  In my first trimester, I was scared about the possibility of miscarrying.  I had very mild spotting a few times, but it was still enough to make me fearful.

After my 12 week ultrasound, our first hint of real trouble, my fear increased even more.  They told me that when there are genetic abnormalities (we still weren’t positive that there was any, but the risk was still higher) that there was still a higher chance that my body could reject the baby.

Then, when the absolute worst news came to us, when I was 18 weeks, I wasn’t just scared.  I was terrified.

This is what went through my brain in an instant:

What a dwarfism mutation “lightning strike” could mean for our family.  

As ridiculous of a worry it was at the time, I was afraid that my beautiful sweet pea would be picked on as she grew up.  

I was worried what our finances would look like while supporting a child who would require serious help throughout her life, including how she would function in our very tall home, and how much those changes would cost.

I was worried about how the above would affect my marriage.

The truth was, these were all best case scenarios that were whizzing through my brain.  What we were really being told there was a very, very good possibility that our little one was not viable for life outside the womb.  So, on top of all of my other worries, I was petrified that we were going to lose our baby.  The baby we had prayed for, already fought for, and desperately wanted.

We loved her unconditionally already, and at that moment, my mother’s heart raged, and all I wanted to do was lift up my baby, cradle her in my arms, hold her close to pour all of my love onto her.  To tell her exactly how loved she was, and how desperately we wanted her.  I wanted to protect her from everything the doctor was telling us, but was left with empty arms and no answers.  

I wept and started pleading to the Lord, “Please don’t let my baby die.” I was desperate. Before then, I had thought I knew what desperation was but, in actuality, I had never experienced true desperation until that moment. The response I got back from Jesus was a simple whisper.  “Trust me.”

As all of this was going through my mind and heart, I looked up at my amazing husband, with tears streaming down my face, and asked him  “Is everything going to be OK? At the end of the day, when this journey is over, is everything, our lives, marriage, faith, going to be OK?”

I will always remember what he told me.  He said, “Yes, no matter what, everything will be OK.  But, first, it will be really, really hard.”  He was 100% right.  

It was also around that 18 week meeting that I began to feel her sweet movements regularly. This added an extra layer of anxiety on me.  I became fearful any time I couldn’t feel her; scared that I had lost her. Yet, when I could feel her, it only added to my anguish. 

As I think many women will tell you, when you start feeling your baby move, its special. I was falling more in love with each swish and kick, but in anguish that there was a very good chance that I wouldn’t be able to keep her. I started to pray for God to heal her, to have mercy, not on her, but on me, to let me keep my baby.

As things progressed I became fearful of what her delivery would look like.  It was a dreaded day for a long time.  I just wanted her to stay where she was safe.  With me. I wanted to do everything in my power to protect her. When my Obstetrician wanted to start talking about our birth plan, I even asked her “Can’t she just stay where she is?”, and she, of course, said “No, she really can’t”.  

I was afraid of what would happen.  If I had a natural delivery, would she make it through the trauma of the birth canal?  If I had a cesarian, would I be able to hear her gasp for breath, and literally listen to her die?  Would she be in pain? Is there something we could do so she didn’t have pain?  What if I had an emergency cesarian, would I be knocked out?  Would I miss her entire life?

In addition to these thoughts that were invading my brain, I had constant nightmares at night.  For about two weeks, we were restless.  I would wake constantly in fear, either crying, or just generally terrified of what was to come. I would wake my husband asking for him to pray for me and calm me so I could fall back to sleep.  It was a long two weeks.

Whether it was spoken or not, I don’t remember, we made a decision.  To cling to the Lord as we clung to each other.  We would communicate, and tell each other everything.  No holding back.  It didn’t matter if a thought we had was awful, morbid, or dumb, we would tell the other person.  Whatever ran through our heads, if it was big enough that we couldn’t shake it, or if it was rousing more fear, stress, or anxiety in our already crazy situation we would speak it out, help each other rationalize, pray fervently, and call those thoughts out as what they were.  Lies.   

Constantly the enemy was trying to break us.  We were restless and exhausted, but continued to pray.  My husband spent time fasting in prayer, begging God to change our situation.  We prayed together every night.  When I would wake up with another nightmare, I would tell my husband what my fear was, and then we would ask God to change my fear to hope, and my sadness to joy.  He was my sense talker.  I would tell him of what I was afraid of, no matter how ridiculous, and he would calm my fear.  Then for good measure, we would ask God to change my thoughts to His thoughts.   

This is how we fought, together, always.  

I believe that this is one of the main things that we did that truly saved our marriage in the midst of crisis.  It wasn’t in trouble before, but when stress like this, especially when a child is involved can take a terrible toll on a marriage. So, we took a page from Ecclesiastes 4 9-12 

“Two are better than one, because they have good pay for their work.  For if one of them falls, the other can help him up. But it is hard for the one who falls when there is no one to lift him up.  And if two lie down together, they keep warm. But how can one be warm alone? One man is able to have power over him who is alone, but two can stand against him. It is not easy to break a rope made of three strings.”  

We gave up what we could, and what we could not control.  The entire situation we gave to the Lord, we surrendered completely to him.  In that place, we found supernatural peace. We gathered more prayer warriors around us, and put our trust in Him. The nightmares vanished. My thoughts changed. He gave us rest.  

Matthew 11:28-30 became true to us “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”  He carried our burden, and gave us hope and joy.

With each ultrasound that revealed more complications, with each tear, and each hard decision, Jesus was there. He carried our load, assured us, and gave us hope. 

When time ran out in my pregnancy, and I was going into preterm labour, I was extremely anxious and fearful.  The Lord was with me in the Hospital.  We listened to worship music constantly, and continued to pray through my contractions. Where I began to feel guilt of needing to have an early cesarean, we prayed for strength.  I think that it was a great mercy that I went into spontaneous labour two days early. Everything was taken out of my control; which was, surprisingly reassuring. As hard as everything was, this gave assurance that the decisions we were able make were the right ones. We now walk without guilt, or regret. Jesus knew what I needed.  Now, I have joy over the time we had with our daughter, I treasure her memory, and I’m proud to be her Mommy.  

I think one of the scariest things we can do, is surrender everything to the Lord. Nothing is more fear inducing than giving up our control.  Over the experience I had with my daughter, and even a little after, God had done a stripping in my life.  Stripping of everything I was keeping a firm hold on. I find that when we go through a time where everything is out of control, we grip tighter on what we can keep in our control.  That is what I was doing.  It was like being suspended in air, clinging onto a ledge.  Rocks were falling all around me, and what I was clinging to wasn’t what would hold me forever, but it felt like that was all I had. As scary as it was, I had reach up to the hand that was waiting to lift me up. It was staring me in the face, for so long, but I was used to hanging off the ledge. My muscles were used to being in that position, and it was painful to move, but once I did, it was freeing. Now I can look at the view the Lord has given me, and it looks good.  

Since discovering I was pregnant last May, I have been surrounded with other pregnant women. Literally surrounded.  When I first found out I was pregnant, I knew about four other pregnancies, other than my own. By the time I delivered, that number had grown to fifteen. FIFTEEN!  There was a baby train moving through town and I was hanging off of it.

Now, please understand me correctly, I was (and am) over the moon excited for my friends. In fact, for a couple of my closest friends, I was at the hospital for their delivery, along with their families, to be one of the first to see these beautiful little, strapping  little boys. Partially because I couldn’t wait to meet them, but mainly because I wanted needed to see and hold these beautiful miracles to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that they were OK. I felt protective of them and of my friends. I didn’t want anyone else I knew to go through what I just did.

But to say that I was fine while everyone around me had perfectly healthy pregnancies, would be a lie.  In September, when we got the worst news possible, the first thing I did was go off of Facebook.  it was just too hard to look at so many growing bellies, knowing that at the end of their 40 weeks they would have a healthy baby. Meanwhile not knowing if I would even be able to see my daughter alive at all.  

So I deleted Facebook and Instagram from my phone for a season; so I wouldn’t have to be tempted by those annoying red notification badges. I also knew it would also force me to turn to God, instead of comparing myself to everyone else.  

Truthfully, I was angry.  I was angry that everyone else got to have healthy pregnancies, I was angry at the little girls I saw everywhere, and their beautiful Mama’s.  I hated going to the mall because there were strollers and pregnant women everywhere.  So I gave myself a little relief by leaving social media behind.

Was I actually angry at my friends?  No. I was incredibly joyful for them.  I was just upset that I couldn’t have it too.  Jealousy raged. I saw shades of green in me that I had no idea lived there, and I hated it.  I hated who I was becoming, so I turned to the only person who could help me.  I would open my Bible whenever I felt like checking Facebook.  I would read Psalms when I felt the most hopeless.  Jesus met me in my darkest hours. “He will cover you with his feathers.  He will shelter you with his wings.  His faithful promises are your armour and protection”, Psalm 91:4.  

Now I didn’t say the above to make anyone feel bad, or to try to guilt those amazing Mama’s that had beautiful healthy babies.  If anything it was perfectly normal for me to feel those things, because what I went through was not fair. Not one second of what I went through with my Lera was fair. Nor is it fair for anyone who had/is suffering as I did. If you have been through baby loss, stillbirth, miscarriage, loss of a spouse, parent, sibling, or even severe illness, or cancer treatments, what you are going through isn’t fair. and it is OK to be angry, upset, or even jealous; and to cry over what is going on.   It’s just important that it doesn’t devour you whole.

John 10:10 says that “the thief’s purpose is to steal, kill and destroy”, I’ve heard it said that to “destroy” is to render useless.  I realized that during this time of anger, restlessness, and fear that I was being rendered useless.  I was so angry, all of the time, and I knew that wasn't what God wanted for me.  So I started fighting it.  I wouldn’t say I became joyful because of my situation, but I found joy despite it.  Over the course of a few short months, God did a miracle in my heart, and started to breath life into it.  

“Is anyone crying for help? God is listening, ready to rescue you.  If your heart is broken, you’ll find God right there, if you’re kicked in the gut, he’ll help you catch your breath” Psalm 34:17-18 (The Message)

My suggestion to anyone who knows someone who is going through immense emotional pain and grief due to a devastating loss, someone that you look at and think, “its just not fair”, is to do your best to be there beside them and help carry them through their pain.  Not physically, but emotionally.

I am so thankful for each friend I have that didn’t run away because of my situation.  Most of my pregnant friends showed so much kindness towards me. Always asking how I am, and not letting me get away with a “fluff” answer (i.e. “fine”, “ok”, or “alright”), but genuinely taking the time to check on me.  To hear me out, and to love me.  

To those who sent messages just reminding me that you were praying for me/my family.  To those who stood with me, even when it was difficult to, THANK YOU.  You are all my miracles, more precious to me than I can adequately put into words.  

Be that person to someone.  Let them weep in front of you and be broken. Let the pain roll out of them, and show them grace and love.  Remind them of the Lord’s promises, be patient and pray fervently.  Then watch as joy begins to creep back in, and God begins to transform their situation from one of fear and pain, to one filled of hope.

After my Lera went to her heavenly home, I was thankful to have so many babies around me. Not only did it squash my fear that I would become a weepy mess holding one; or, worse yet, possibly stealing one; but having those little miracles around me has been such a blessing, when my empty arms ache a little too much, I am able to be fill them with a child I love. I still do this.

If you are going through the un-imaginable, don’t let fear get in the way of you doing what you enjoy. 

I love babies. I’ve always loved babies. Just because mine isn’t here with me doesn’t mean that I can’t still love babies, or that I can’t have fun holding, snuggling and playing with my friends babies. Those little stress relievers have given me SO much joy.  

Since January, God has moved us into a time of transition. Things that we thought were stone began to become more like sand, and things that we saw as bright light, began to look dark. Neither my husband or I knew which way to go in the darkness and we were wobbly on our feet.

What I would like to make clear, is that this had nothing to do with our daughter’s death. We just found that dreams and goals for ministry, that we have had for the last 10 years, were not coming to fruition. We felt we could no longer see where our future was heading.

So, during the four week sabbatical we took in February, we considered three options to move forward:

to continue with the status quo; which didn’t seem to be moving us anywhere

to downsize our life and put 100% into the church and our ministry; including selling our home and Stephen quitting all side work but the church

to take some time away from being busy (leading ministries and heavy mid-week involvement) to focus on family and work; to re-evaluate what God wants our ministry to be

We decided, after lots of prayer, that the best option was the last one. For a season we would step back and see what God wanted our ministry in Spruce Grove, and at Engage, to look like. 

At the same time, I also had to begin looking for a job. My maternity leave was ending (in Canada, when you lose a baby you only get 15 weeks paid leave; not the full 50), and we still have bills to pay.  I applied everywhere and anywhere. We prayed that God would open up doors for me into the right job, one that I would truly enjoy and that had a future.

During this time, we were both in the desert looking for God and asking Him what we should do, which path we should take, and I truly felt that the Lord led us into a place that is described in Hosea 2:14 “But then I will win her back once again. I will lead her into the desert and speak tenderly to her there.” So we sat, listening and waiting for God to either speak, or begin to open doors.

Although I applied like a crazy person, no real fruit came from my efforts. None of the offers I got were jobs in my field, or they wouldn’t meet our basic needs. I started to get fed up with applying and coming up empty handed, so I asked my friends on Facebook if they heard of any openings.  I got a few suggestions, and sent out my resume to each one.

One tip was from a dear friend who sent me a posting at her church, West Edmonton Christian Assembly (WECA). I never would have considered applying for a position at another church before our time away but, with all of the uncertainty and instability in our life, we decided that I would try it to see how it went; taking a leap of faith.

Of all of the resume’s I’ve sent out, this was the first interview I had that wasn’t for a temp agency or a misleading sales position. It is an administrative position that includes running their library ministry. It has lots of potential for me to truly enjoy my job, as well as lots of opportunity for growth in the role.  It would also be the first time I would be working for a ministry/church as a full time gig, not just a part time volunteer role.

I was nervous about the interview because, although the job sounded great, I saw the big change it would mean for our family. I prayed, “God if this is the job for me, make a way and make it so it will meet our family’s needs”.

I bombed the interview. At least I felt like I did.  It was, in my opinion, the worst interview I had given in a very long time. I left thinking, “What was I thinking?!! If I get this job, it’s 100% Jesus, because that was awful!”  

I wouldn’t have hired me after that interview; it was that bad.

Now, whether that was true or not is up for debate because, a week later, they offered me the position. After some negotiation, they were able to ensure the offer met our basic “must have” needs criteria and, just as my benefits were ending, I had a job.

As great as this news is, that I have a new position that I am truly enjoying, it also means more changes for my husband and I. We have to switch churches. We will be leaving Engage City Church, where we have been heavily involved since we helped plant it just over two years ago, and start attending a long established, rather large church in West Edmonton (WECA).  

It has been a very fast three weeks since I got the position and, our last Sunday, May 10th is now here. For us, this is very bitter-sweet. We love Engage. We love the church and the people there; some of our best friends. The saddest part of leaving is the people we are leaving behind.

You have been an extension of our family, and helped carry us through the hardest time of our lives. We wish you all of the success in the world, and will continue to pray for God’s favour and anointing in the city of Spruce Grove, as you serve the community here.

We are also excited about the new opportunities that await us at WECA. Hosea 2:15 “I will return her vineyards to her and transform the Valley of Trouble[a] into a gateway of hope.” We are truly excited, and greatly anticipate what God is going to do in the future. The ground beneath our feet is starting to firm up, and we can see a lit pathway of where we are to go, and things are looking brighter.  

We still don’t know exactly what the next few months will look like.  We don’t even know what tomorrow will look like.  But we know that this is a good first step in the right direction.  We feel peace, and hope for the future.

Psalm 119:105  says, “Your word is a lamp to guide my feet and a light for my path.”. Although we cannot see far enough to know where we will be in a month, year, or decade from now, we know that God is leading us to a new place. We are in God’s hands, and He is faithful.  We are in complete awe of is amazing grace in our lives and situations, and feel our strength being renewed.

We thank everyone who had been praying for us, still please continue to do so, as we wait in anticipation of what God is going to do in and through our family in the years to come.

Isaiah 46:4 - ” I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.”

This weekend is one of the weekends that I have been looking forward to the absolute least.  Really, what i would love to do this weekend is to curl in a whole and eat lots and lots of ice cream, and chocolate, with a television to binge watch Gilmore Girls or the Mindy Project on Netflix. I, however, cannot do that this weekend.  This weekend will be another busy weekend, but not the usual. This Sunday is Mother’s Day.  In fact it’s my first Mother’s Day, but instead of it being a day of celebration for me, it instead, will prove to be another reminder of what is missing.  My daughter.  My Lera.  

At first I was thinking about waiting until after the weekend to write something. Then I thought, “Why?” and I made a decision.  I am going to have a Great Mother’s Day.  Not for my Mom or my Mom-in-law, even though we are going to see them and I want them to be celebrated and feel special, but for me.  I refuse to hide.  I refuse to eat way to much junk food.  I refuse wallow. I believe without a doubt that staying at home and being miserable would be the exact opposite of what my Daughter would want.  I also believe that it is the exact opposite of what God would want.  So here is my decision.  I am going to have fun this weekend, especially on Sunday.  I am going to rejoice with my daughter on Mother’s Day at church.  Rejoice the one who has and will continue to sustain me as I heal.  The one my Daughter is currently rejoicing.

If you have read my family’s story at leragrace.com, you would know that we got the most devastating news about our little girl when I was 18 weeks pregnant.  We were told she had a rare from of dwarfism that would not sustain life outside of the womb, and that it was likely Thanatophoric dysplasia, which is characterized by small long bones (arms and legs) and a disproportionately small ribcage, too small to sustain life.  Throughout this journey we were asked multiple times if we wanted to terminate the pregnancy or induce early.  

I live in Alberta, and legally, one can terminate a pregnancy at any time before 22 weeks.  Anything after 22 weeks is illegal, unless there was something genetically wrong, then a late-term abortion could be conducted, usually by inducing labor early, rather than a D&C.  This rule is specific to Alberta, it could be similar in your Province, but generally, it is completely legal in Canada to terminate a pregnancy at any time.  

We were first given this option at 12/13 weeks after my trans-nuchal ultrasound when we discovered our little one had more trans-nuchal fluid than normal. This test can give an early warning sign that something is wrong with a baby, and based on the measurement of the trans-nuchal fluid.  With the information provided by the test, doctors can give statistics on the chance of your child having a birth/genetic defect or chronological disorder.  This test has a 5% false positive rate.  Simply explained, this means that 5% of ALL pregnancies test positive. This can help doctors reliably tell 95% of families that there baby looks healthy; and focus further testing on that much smaller 5%. (‘passing’ a trans-nuchal does not clear your baby of genetic problems, it just probably does).

Out of the 5% that ‘fail’ the trans-nuchal, a large percentage (>80% or so, from our research) still go on to have perfectly healthy babies.

We had hope that we fell in that 80+%. We also started to accept that, even if our child was not exactly as we first envisioned, it would still be OK; just different.  Never had we ever suspected that our baby would not survive.

At the 18 week mark is where we got the worst news possible, and found out that something was definitely wrong with our little girl.  At this time we were, again, offered the choice to terminate the pregnancy, I was actually told that they “didn’t want to do an unnecessary caesarian” (whatever that means).  We declined again, partially because we didn’t know exactly what was wrong with her, and we still clung to hope that God could and would heal.  During the next few weeks, of more testing and watching as her condition only worsened, I was asked 3 more times if we wanted to terminate the pregnancy.  

We prayed, a lot, and decided to choose life.  The truth was that no matter what the future held for our daughter, certain things were true already; we loved her unconditionally, and we held a trump card, in God, knowing that He could intervene.  

It was not an easy choice to make.   I felt completely robbed of the pregnancy experience I always looked forward to having, as well as so hurt that I couldn’t keep the baby I could now feel growing inside me, falling more in love with every kick and punch.  I was also so utterly, and completely afraid.  I was afraid of her dying during childbirth, I was afraid of being able to hear her struggle to breathe after she was born, or listen to her slowly die.  I was afraid that if I had an emergency cesarian, I would have to be knocked out, and I would miss her life completely.  I truly had never been more frightened in my life.  

My husband is truly the most amazing man, though this time, he listened to my fears, and calmed me down, he would pray with and for me every night, and hold me as I cried.  He wrote update after update informing people about me and Lera, as well as waking up with me when I woke with nightmares.  Near the end of my pregnancy he barely got any sleep, as I didn’t sleep.  He helped me get comfortable, put my shoes and socks on/off, and helped me pick things up when I dropped them.  All without complaining.  He is my hero, and the best gift God has ever given me.

We still prayed for a miracle, but began to prepare just in case one was not going to come. We decided, that by choosing life, we wanted Lera’s life to be the best life we could give her. We did a 3D ultrasound with our families, and got a first glimpse at our beautiful girl and got maternity photos taken. We decided that, no matter what, this was my first pregnancy and Lera will always be our first born.  We wanted to celebrate her like we would any other child.  At the end of the day what remained true is that she was ours, and we loved her so, SO much.  Joy started to trump fear.

Choosing life was so much more than not terminating, it was a change in the way we saw the entire pregnancy.

The best day of my life was December 6, 2014, the day I met my daughter.  I’ve discovered through my journey that the best days in life don’t necessarily have to be the perfect ones, where nothing goes wrong, and everything is coming up roses.  The best days are the ones where we learn, grow and experience the full extent of what life is, and life is SO much more than what we can enjoy.  We had the most precious moments with our beautiful little girl.  It was roughly 10 minutes we had with our baby, giving her kisses, stroking her cheeks, and telling her repeatedly how loved she was.  We lived 100% focused on her and showered her with all of our  love until she passed, peacefully, without pain, in my husbands arms.  We were able to accomplish the only thing that really mattered to us through out my pregnancy.  We were able to hold her close, and give her a life filled with as much love as we could pour out on her.  

I do not regret a moment of what I went through.  Each ounce of pain or joy I felt leading up to the moments I had with my baby girl were 100% worth it. She was worth it.  For her, I would do it all over again.  Neither my husband or I regret anything and are completely at peace with our decisions and actions during my pregnancy, and wouldn’t trade the time we had with our baby girl for the world.   Choosing life was the best decision we could have made for our family.

Lera taught us so much.  She taught me to be brave, and that I’m much stronger than I give myself credit for. She has shown me a glimpse of just how powerful and how deep God’s love is.  I chose life for her, but in reality it breathed more life in me.  

What I’d really like to leave you with is that if you are in a similar situation to what I had been though, that you have options. We were so completely cared for through every stage of my pregnancy, and hospice is given as an option.  Living in Canada gave us access to some of the best medical care in the country, all covered by Alberta Health Care.  Everyone treated us with compassion and empathy and gave us support as we fought through this storm, for that I thank you! If you know me or my story and have been apart of the above or a supportive role of any kind, I truly cannot thank you enough.

If you are struggling know there is always hope.  

Right after my Lera was born one of the hardest things for me to do was pray in thanksgiving to God.  I didn’t know what I was thankful for, let alone speaking thanks. Seeing the new mercies every morning was extremely difficult, but they were still there.

After surviving a terrible ordeal, whether grief, illness, stress, or even times of depression, one of the hardest things to see is the faithfulness of God.  

It’s also one of the most important things we can do.

I believe that one of the things that helped me through my grief was making a point to be thankful to God.  I didn’t start big, I started at Lamentations 3:22-23. Every night, I thanked Jesus that his mercies for me were new every morning, and that each day He is faithful. Lamentations 3 continues in verses 31-33 “For no one is abandoned by the Lord forever.  Though he brings grief, he also shows compassion because of the greatness of his unfailing love.  For he does not enjoy hurting people or causing them sorrow.”

Throughout my pregnancy, the verse that kept coming back to me was 1 Peter 5:10 “In his kindness God called you to share in his eternal glory by means of Christ Jesus.  So after you have suffered a little while, he will restore, support, and strengthen you, and he will place you on a firm foundation.”  I have felt the kindness of God while I was pregnant with my Lera.  In the beautiful 8 months that I had the privilege of carrying her I had no sickness.  You've read that correctly.  I had some minor morning sickness, my sense of smell was magnified like a superpower, and my allergies made it difficult to breathe at times, but other than that, I had over 8 months cold/flu free.  I didn’t even have heartburn.  This, I believe, was the kindness of God.  

You may be thinking, how on earth is she talking about the kindness of God, when her baby just died?  I will be glad to tell you.  

Jesus does not kill babies.

There I said it.  I believe 110% that God had absolutely no hand in the fact that my daughter is no longer with me, but with him. Simply because it isn’t in his nature.  The best account I have read about this so far is here: http://christablack.com/2014/04/how-i-know-god-didnt-kill-my-baby-girl-part-2/.  There are six parts, but part 2 I fell really expresses exactly how I feel on the subject.  She explains it much better than I could. (I LOVE this blog, seriously. Christa, if you ever see this, know that your blog has helped me more that I can describe.)

Sure when I got home from the hospital it was difficult for me to pray, thanking God, praising Him, because it was hard for me at the time to praise anything.  I was in pain recovering from major surgery (I had a cesarian), my milk had come in, so that hurt (it still happens even if there is no baby to feed), I smelt terrible, my hormones were all over the place, and on top of all of that, my baby died.  So to say that I was emotional is an understatement.  There was no crying, there was screaming, I can only imagine what my neighbours thought during those first few weeks.  All I could say to Jesus was, “My heart is broken beyond repair.  I cannot fix it, and I’m not going to try. YOU have to fix it. So here it is.”  I’m reminded of the David Crowder song “Here’s my heart Lord, speak what is true.”  At that moment I believe that He scooped me up and he hasn’t put me down since.  THAT is the kindness of God.

What I am convinced of, is this;  God intended me to get pregnant when I did, the timing was perfect.  I believe that He wants us to have children.  When we found out something was wrong with our precious girl, he wept with us.  Never have I felt God stronger, or holding me closer than when I was pregnant begging for a miracle.  Never have I heard God more specifically than when He whispered to me “I’m behind you, I’m in front of you, and right here with you, and with her.”  Again, kindness.  He saw us through the storm, and is helping us clean up the mess it left in its wake.

To all those following my blog.  I apologize.  I am changing themes like nobody’s business, and more change is still coming as I am still not satisfied with any of the themes Tumblr has to offer.  The one I really liked isn’t compatible with any mobile device (which is SUPER annoying), and now this one, looks AUH-mazing on mobile does not have any room for the title of my blog, nor a link for my pinterest page. This, for me is a bummer.  

So more theme change is coming! I hope to settle on something soon!