"This is the day the Lord has made and I will rejoice and be glad in it!" I am sure you sang it in your head just as I did as I typed it. You all know me well enough to know that I bust out in random song ALL THE TIME and I have no shame!
This morning Sophie and I headed to church just as we do every Sunday. We arrived and Sophie was snatched from me even before I was able to open the back hatch of the van to get her reverse walker out of it! Every Sunday I have been trying to have Sophie walk in to church. Not only is it the most adorable site ever, but Sophie needs to walk with purpose. She will be more motivated to walk in to something or someplace instead of just walking to walk. Besides, she may look tiny but she is a mover and a shaker and she gets heavy. Today she didn't have that opportunity because there was so much love needing to be poured out on Sophie that she was carried right in!
We choose our seats and I let Sophie stand with her walker and she doesn't seem to care that she is there. She doesn't seem to want to be in it either. I saw there were cookies and doughnuts out so I grabbed a doughnut and bribed Sophie with it. Between the smiles and the mile long shoestring drool Sophie tried to get to the doughnut but she wasn't moving without help. Worship started and I took my place on the floor in front of Sophie. We have an informal setting at church which I absolutely love! As Sophie would try to get to me I would scoot back a little further. I would reward her with a little piece of her doughnut and she would flash me that million dollar smile that goes straight to the heart every time!
Worship continued and I continued to sit on the floor while Sophie was still upright in her reverse walker. Something clicked and she started walking with her walker ALL BY HERSELF. I couldn't scoot back fast enough. Not only did Sophie walk a few feet alone, but she kept going and going and going. I am not exaggerating when I tell you that it was probably 30-40 feet on her own.
As I was sitting there crying I was watching my daughter do something we were told she might not ever do. Not only was she doing it but she was doing it so well. Like she has known all along how to do it but wanted all of us to know that she was doing it on her terms. In this moment I looked around and I could see very few people watching Sophie because they were worshiping the Lord, which they were supposed to be doing, and I was thankful for that. I have never wanted Sophie to be a distraction for anyone at church, although she is a welcomed one, and today was no different. I was in the moment watching my daughter do something we had been praying for her to do. She was walking...without someone pushing from behind or holding her walker. I didn't grab my phone and try to capture the moment because I was completely engrossed in what she was doing.
I have found myself wanting to capture special moments with Sophie with my camera instead of taking them in, breathing them in and letting the actual moment consume me. Yes, I love being able to look back on a picture and remember the moment. It brings warmth in to my heart and a smile to my face but there was nothing more special them being able to be there to see her take her official first, assisted by a walker, steps today.
As I was trying to hold back the tears I looked at Sophie with amazement. Sophie is truly the bravest person I know. She knows no fear, no limits and knows that she gets to make the rules! All in God's perfect timing!
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
Broken Beginnings
For the past year or more I have shared with you the different joys and struggles we have faced as a family. We have had celebrations, shared tears, and have been encouraged through the day to day experiences. When it comes to my children I have been completely transparent when it comes to the struggles I face, the prayers I need answered and the joys I have shared. When it comes to my children I am willing to share most everything because that is how we are able to see miracles happen, ask for prayers, and share life with one another. For me though, there is an area of my life that most people have no idea about and I think it is time to share it with you.
A few weeks back there was a post on my Facebook status in regards to turning in to my mother because I was a.) shopping at Macy's and b.) the shirts I purchased were black. My mom loves Macy's and loves black! It was a compliment and she knew that. The uncomfortable part comes in to play because there was a post made by someone in regards to who they consider my mom to be! Are you still with me?
I, Ashley Ann (Gordon) Stegg was born to Jacqueline Doherty (maiden name) and my dad Dallas Gordon. My older brother, Jerid, and I were raised by Jack-Attack (It's ok to laugh) and went to my dad's house every other weekend and rotating holidays since before I could walk. Thankfully my birth parents didn't stay together "for the sake of the children."
My dad remarried, Renee VanAken (maiden name). Since I was born in to this world she was in my life as my step mom. My dad and "Renee" went on to have 3 other children, my brothers, Brandon, Josh and J'mer (Jeremiah). When it comes to my brothers, there is no half in front of the word brothers. They are my brothers, no ifs ands or buts!
Jack-Attack remarried to Roger and they had twin boys, Cody and Kyle. We all lived together in Litchfield for a long time and then Jack-Attack and Roger got divorced. Cody and Kyle went to live with their dad and Jerid and I were left with Jack-Attack and her different boyfriends who would verbally and physically abuse her. In turn, Jack-Attack would abuse Jerid and I. The abuse would happen off and on until one day the police and CPS were at my house escorting Jerid and I away to live with my Grandmother. We were with her for 6 months. I was 8 and in 2nd grade. After the 6 months lapsed we were allowed to live with Jack-Attack again. The abuse didn't stop.
This went on until I was 12 years old. One day Jack-Attack took off with one of her ex-boyfriends for the day and I was locked outside because my cousin didn't want to let me in because he had his girlfriend over. I couldn't go in to the home I was living in because it wasn't our home. That evening I remember sitting on the swing crying. I didn't have anywhere to go so I called my dad. I told him what was going on and he told me he would be there as soon as he could get there. Jerid and I went to my dad's house that day and I never looked back. Jerid took a different path and I chose to stay with my dad and Renee.
Life got a little easier in some aspects and a little more complicated in others. I wasn't being physically abused anymore but Jack-Attack was trying to get sober, promising me the world if only I would go back to live with her and I felt guilt for some reason. I felt guilty for choosing to stay at my dad's house. That I was letting her down. What I couldn't understand at the age of 12 was that she had let me down long before that.
Over the days, weeks and months I struggled with getting in trouble at school, stealing from the locker room when I was in 7th grade, smoking cigarettes behind the dugout at football games and lying to my parents about it. I never had anyone care enough before so it didn't matter what I did. I can remember sitting on my parents bed in their room and Renee telling me that NO MATTER WHAT I DO, she will always love me. Those words changed my life forever, for the better. That moment, Renee became my mom, in every aspect of the word. She was my rock, my biggest fan, my supporter. So was my dad, don't get me wrong, but I was closer with my mom. The mom I never had until that moment.
Over the years life was so much better. Jack-Attack didn't contact me one time when I was 14 for 10 months and told me it was my fault. Typical behavior for an alcoholic. My mom was still right there for me when I sat in my room in disappointment. I had basketball, volleyball and track where we would travel back to Litchfield and Jack-attack never made it to one of those games even though she lived 5 minutes away. She wasn't the one making the effort to see me, it was me making an effort to see her.At the age of 16 my dad and Renee got divorced and my dad gave me the best gift I could have ever imagined. When my parents announced their divorce I didn't know what would happen to me. Was I going to have to move with my dad since I wasn't technically Renee's? Was the only real mom I ever knew going to be taken from me? NO! My dad was so selfless and asked me what I wanted. He let me choose. And my mom WANTED me. She didn't want me for the child support because she wasn't entitled to any for me. I wasn't legally hers. Dad, if I never thanked you, I am now! Thank you for loving me enough to do what was best for me, for all of us.
As of today, in my adult life, I have removed Jack-Attack from my life completely. I refer to her as my egg donor because to me, that is all she is. My grandma used to tell me that I needed to respect her because she brought me in to this world and over the past year or so she has changed her tune and I am so thankful. As of today, when I talk about my mom, it is Renee that I am referring to. Most of you wouldn't have known any differently.
I made the decision to not have Jack-Attack in my life because of the person she is. Jack-Attack is a severe alcoholic that can't take responsibility for how her life has turned out. She is unable to show love. She has so much hatred inside her heart that there isn't room for anyone or anything else. I refuse to subject my children to her. My children know what it is like to be loved unconditionally and that is all they ever need to know of love. They are so blessed to have their grandmas, grandpas, Nana's and Papa's and their Grammie and Grandpa Jimmy. How blessed are my kids!?! I was once told that I would have to answer to God for how I treat my "family". This person has issues, just like Jack-Attack. Because I don't put up with their BS and have them in my life, although they are technically family, they think I am wrong. Ok, that's fine with me! Doesn't break my heart.
As stated in the beginning of this post, this isn't something I share because I didn't feel anyone needed to know. It was in the past and that is where I thought it needed to stay. I was wrong though, I needed to share it. How can I be completely transparent about my kids' life and not my own? This past is what has shaped me in to the person I am today. My mom is the reason I am the mom I am today. Without her I would have failed. To this day we joke and I tell her that one day she will remember giving birth to me!
We have always been told that we look so much alike and that she could never deny that I was hers...and she doesn't!
I don't share this with you because I want you to feel sorry for me. I share this with you to show you that no matter how bad life was or is or gets that there is always something good that can come out of it. Jesus makes beauty from ashes! He works everything for our good and His glory!
I was broken, now I am blessed!
A few weeks back there was a post on my Facebook status in regards to turning in to my mother because I was a.) shopping at Macy's and b.) the shirts I purchased were black. My mom loves Macy's and loves black! It was a compliment and she knew that. The uncomfortable part comes in to play because there was a post made by someone in regards to who they consider my mom to be! Are you still with me?
I, Ashley Ann (Gordon) Stegg was born to Jacqueline Doherty (maiden name) and my dad Dallas Gordon. My older brother, Jerid, and I were raised by Jack-Attack (It's ok to laugh) and went to my dad's house every other weekend and rotating holidays since before I could walk. Thankfully my birth parents didn't stay together "for the sake of the children."
My dad remarried, Renee VanAken (maiden name). Since I was born in to this world she was in my life as my step mom. My dad and "Renee" went on to have 3 other children, my brothers, Brandon, Josh and J'mer (Jeremiah). When it comes to my brothers, there is no half in front of the word brothers. They are my brothers, no ifs ands or buts!
Jack-Attack remarried to Roger and they had twin boys, Cody and Kyle. We all lived together in Litchfield for a long time and then Jack-Attack and Roger got divorced. Cody and Kyle went to live with their dad and Jerid and I were left with Jack-Attack and her different boyfriends who would verbally and physically abuse her. In turn, Jack-Attack would abuse Jerid and I. The abuse would happen off and on until one day the police and CPS were at my house escorting Jerid and I away to live with my Grandmother. We were with her for 6 months. I was 8 and in 2nd grade. After the 6 months lapsed we were allowed to live with Jack-Attack again. The abuse didn't stop.
This went on until I was 12 years old. One day Jack-Attack took off with one of her ex-boyfriends for the day and I was locked outside because my cousin didn't want to let me in because he had his girlfriend over. I couldn't go in to the home I was living in because it wasn't our home. That evening I remember sitting on the swing crying. I didn't have anywhere to go so I called my dad. I told him what was going on and he told me he would be there as soon as he could get there. Jerid and I went to my dad's house that day and I never looked back. Jerid took a different path and I chose to stay with my dad and Renee.
Life got a little easier in some aspects and a little more complicated in others. I wasn't being physically abused anymore but Jack-Attack was trying to get sober, promising me the world if only I would go back to live with her and I felt guilt for some reason. I felt guilty for choosing to stay at my dad's house. That I was letting her down. What I couldn't understand at the age of 12 was that she had let me down long before that.
Over the days, weeks and months I struggled with getting in trouble at school, stealing from the locker room when I was in 7th grade, smoking cigarettes behind the dugout at football games and lying to my parents about it. I never had anyone care enough before so it didn't matter what I did. I can remember sitting on my parents bed in their room and Renee telling me that NO MATTER WHAT I DO, she will always love me. Those words changed my life forever, for the better. That moment, Renee became my mom, in every aspect of the word. She was my rock, my biggest fan, my supporter. So was my dad, don't get me wrong, but I was closer with my mom. The mom I never had until that moment.
Over the years life was so much better. Jack-Attack didn't contact me one time when I was 14 for 10 months and told me it was my fault. Typical behavior for an alcoholic. My mom was still right there for me when I sat in my room in disappointment. I had basketball, volleyball and track where we would travel back to Litchfield and Jack-attack never made it to one of those games even though she lived 5 minutes away. She wasn't the one making the effort to see me, it was me making an effort to see her.At the age of 16 my dad and Renee got divorced and my dad gave me the best gift I could have ever imagined. When my parents announced their divorce I didn't know what would happen to me. Was I going to have to move with my dad since I wasn't technically Renee's? Was the only real mom I ever knew going to be taken from me? NO! My dad was so selfless and asked me what I wanted. He let me choose. And my mom WANTED me. She didn't want me for the child support because she wasn't entitled to any for me. I wasn't legally hers. Dad, if I never thanked you, I am now! Thank you for loving me enough to do what was best for me, for all of us.
As of today, in my adult life, I have removed Jack-Attack from my life completely. I refer to her as my egg donor because to me, that is all she is. My grandma used to tell me that I needed to respect her because she brought me in to this world and over the past year or so she has changed her tune and I am so thankful. As of today, when I talk about my mom, it is Renee that I am referring to. Most of you wouldn't have known any differently.
I made the decision to not have Jack-Attack in my life because of the person she is. Jack-Attack is a severe alcoholic that can't take responsibility for how her life has turned out. She is unable to show love. She has so much hatred inside her heart that there isn't room for anyone or anything else. I refuse to subject my children to her. My children know what it is like to be loved unconditionally and that is all they ever need to know of love. They are so blessed to have their grandmas, grandpas, Nana's and Papa's and their Grammie and Grandpa Jimmy. How blessed are my kids!?! I was once told that I would have to answer to God for how I treat my "family". This person has issues, just like Jack-Attack. Because I don't put up with their BS and have them in my life, although they are technically family, they think I am wrong. Ok, that's fine with me! Doesn't break my heart.
As stated in the beginning of this post, this isn't something I share because I didn't feel anyone needed to know. It was in the past and that is where I thought it needed to stay. I was wrong though, I needed to share it. How can I be completely transparent about my kids' life and not my own? This past is what has shaped me in to the person I am today. My mom is the reason I am the mom I am today. Without her I would have failed. To this day we joke and I tell her that one day she will remember giving birth to me!
We have always been told that we look so much alike and that she could never deny that I was hers...and she doesn't!
I don't share this with you because I want you to feel sorry for me. I share this with you to show you that no matter how bad life was or is or gets that there is always something good that can come out of it. Jesus makes beauty from ashes! He works everything for our good and His glory!
I was broken, now I am blessed!
Wednesday, September 3, 2014
Trust Him
As I sit here and start putting my thoughts in to a familiar type face I wish I could truly convey the true sense of being completely humbled.
As you know Sophie's heart was still being monitored closely because her left pulmonary artery was narrow and wasn't allowing the proper amount of blood flow through. Because of that Sophie was going to have to have surgery. On July 23rd Sophie underwent some testing to see what type of surgery she was going to need, but we were told surgery was happening the very next month.
We all know the end of the story as well, Sophie was healed and doesn't have to have surgery after-all. I told Dr. Butto the day we left his office, on July 16th, that there was still time for a miracle and he said, "Anything can happen." I got the feeling from him that he really didn't expect it to happen although he was trying to appease me. But it DID happen! Healing happened!
Here is where I need to be completely transparent. I have an issue with trust. It may come from the childhood I had with my biological egg donor always letting me down, even through adulthood, until I decided I didn't need or want her in my life. I tend to not see the best in most people and I truly am working on it. I also have an issue with trusting God. Do I know He will never leave me nor forsake me...yes! Or that He loves me daughter even more than I do? Of course I do, but there is always a BUT!
For example, after I received the call on the 25th of July telling me that Sophie didn't need surgery any longer I didn't fully believe them. When I would share with people the good news I caught myself saying, "As of right now Sophie doesn't need surgery." Why did I have to add in the words "as of right now"? I added it in because when I was speaking with the nurse she said it like this: "Dr. Butto looked at her scans and said everything looks good and she doesn't need surgery. He will confirm with the radiologist just to make sure he isn't missing anything."
Ok, so I knew when she called me that it was a true healing, but because she said Dr. Butto was still going to confirm with the radiologist I took that as there was still a chance he could be wrong, EVEN THOUGH that morning I prayed these exact words: "Let me receive a phone all today telling me Sophie doesn't need surgery." The Lord had given me exactly what I prayed for and I still doubted Him. Yet He still loves me.
Why am I just now sharing this with you? That would be because I just received the phone call last week that the radiologist confirmed that Sophie didn't need surgery. Once again, I didn't trust. I couldn't trust Him because there was a voice in my head saying "at this time" and "confirm with the radiologist". Once I received the first call I should have had no doubts and ran with it.
That's the ugly side of our human nature. Jesus is just asking for me to trust Him and it seems like it is conditional for me, yet His love for me is completely UNconditional.
The past few weeks at church we have been challenged to pick a word that describes an area of our lives that need work. Then we needed to pick a verse in the Bible that has that word in it and apply it to our lives. From there we were challenged to pick a thought and then a statement.
For me it was a no brainier, my word is trust.
My One Word: Trust
My One Verse: Psalm 118:8 "It is better to trust in the LORD than to put confidence in man"
My One thought: I will learn to trust YOU alone
My One Statement: I AM
(Jesus gives us the authority on Earth to use I AM, just as He told Moses to say "I AM" sent him.) When ever I think of Sophie and the things she will be healed on, I say I am (She is) Healed, I Am (She is) Perfect....
As you know Sophie's heart was still being monitored closely because her left pulmonary artery was narrow and wasn't allowing the proper amount of blood flow through. Because of that Sophie was going to have to have surgery. On July 23rd Sophie underwent some testing to see what type of surgery she was going to need, but we were told surgery was happening the very next month.
We all know the end of the story as well, Sophie was healed and doesn't have to have surgery after-all. I told Dr. Butto the day we left his office, on July 16th, that there was still time for a miracle and he said, "Anything can happen." I got the feeling from him that he really didn't expect it to happen although he was trying to appease me. But it DID happen! Healing happened!
Here is where I need to be completely transparent. I have an issue with trust. It may come from the childhood I had with my biological egg donor always letting me down, even through adulthood, until I decided I didn't need or want her in my life. I tend to not see the best in most people and I truly am working on it. I also have an issue with trusting God. Do I know He will never leave me nor forsake me...yes! Or that He loves me daughter even more than I do? Of course I do, but there is always a BUT!
For example, after I received the call on the 25th of July telling me that Sophie didn't need surgery any longer I didn't fully believe them. When I would share with people the good news I caught myself saying, "As of right now Sophie doesn't need surgery." Why did I have to add in the words "as of right now"? I added it in because when I was speaking with the nurse she said it like this: "Dr. Butto looked at her scans and said everything looks good and she doesn't need surgery. He will confirm with the radiologist just to make sure he isn't missing anything."
Ok, so I knew when she called me that it was a true healing, but because she said Dr. Butto was still going to confirm with the radiologist I took that as there was still a chance he could be wrong, EVEN THOUGH that morning I prayed these exact words: "Let me receive a phone all today telling me Sophie doesn't need surgery." The Lord had given me exactly what I prayed for and I still doubted Him. Yet He still loves me.
Why am I just now sharing this with you? That would be because I just received the phone call last week that the radiologist confirmed that Sophie didn't need surgery. Once again, I didn't trust. I couldn't trust Him because there was a voice in my head saying "at this time" and "confirm with the radiologist". Once I received the first call I should have had no doubts and ran with it.
That's the ugly side of our human nature. Jesus is just asking for me to trust Him and it seems like it is conditional for me, yet His love for me is completely UNconditional.
The past few weeks at church we have been challenged to pick a word that describes an area of our lives that need work. Then we needed to pick a verse in the Bible that has that word in it and apply it to our lives. From there we were challenged to pick a thought and then a statement.
For me it was a no brainier, my word is trust.
My One Word: Trust
My One Verse: Psalm 118:8 "It is better to trust in the LORD than to put confidence in man"
My One thought: I will learn to trust YOU alone
My One Statement: I AM
(Jesus gives us the authority on Earth to use I AM, just as He told Moses to say "I AM" sent him.) When ever I think of Sophie and the things she will be healed on, I say I am (She is) Healed, I Am (She is) Perfect....
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
Compassion...To Give or Not Give
Yesterday was the first of many days that I am going to have that piercing feeling of being stabbed in the heart over and over again.
Yesterday was the first of many days where I am going to have to stand up and fight for my daughter because she can't fight for herself.
Yesterday was the first of many days where I am going to have to pray for compassion on people instead of wanting to inflict pain on them...even if they are just teenage boys!
In our neighborhood we have several boys who play together that are all around the ages of 11-14 and for the most part they all get along well. It just so happens to have hit the fan this past week while we were on vacation. I am going to protect the names of the kids here so I am changing them!
This is the conversation that happened between 2 boys in the neighborhood:
Ralph - Your mom doesn't have any friends, all she does is water her flowers.
Frank - my mom has friends so shut up.
Ralph - Your brother is going to end up retarded just like Shane's sister!
Frank said nothing and punched Ralph in the mouth!
Yesterday Frank told Shane what happened and my son's heart is broken. He is angry, mad, sad, and every other emotion you can think of. Shane loves his sister more than anything else in this entire world. For him, yesterday was the first of many days he would have to stand up for his sister.
When Dan told me about this my heart sank in to the lowest part of my belly. It was like I was on a roller coaster ride and I was just tipping over the highest peak and racing downhill. That kind of feeling but not in a good way. My heart instantly hurt for Sophie, for Shane.
And then I was angry!
I contacted the mother of Frank and we had a conversation about what happened. She is equally as upset but it is different for her. She doesn't have a child that is non verbal or one that doesn't walk yet. As much as it sucked to hear that from her son, this is the reality that we live in every single day.
Unfortunately, Ralph's mom isn't someone who will do anything about what was said so there is no use in going to her about this. Ralph is 12, I believe, and it isn't like I can go and deal with him. So, as my great friend told me last night, I need to show him compassion and have Shane do the same.
Do you know how hard this is?
Compassion wasn't the first thing that I thought I should do or give. Compassion is something I show to hurting people, kids, animals, elderly. Not some punk kid who runs his mouth. Then I am reminded by the same friend that hurt people hurt people. Stepping back and looking at this kids home life it is obvious to see where it stems from. He doesn't have a dad around and he and his mom talk to one another like they are buddies in a bar.
So, today I ask for your prayers for me to be able to show compassion to this boy.
Moving forward I ask all of you to stop and think about what comes out of your mouth and how it can affect someone else. Choose to affect them in a positive way!
P.S...Sophie blows them all out of the water!
Yesterday was the first of many days where I am going to have to stand up and fight for my daughter because she can't fight for herself.
Yesterday was the first of many days where I am going to have to pray for compassion on people instead of wanting to inflict pain on them...even if they are just teenage boys!
In our neighborhood we have several boys who play together that are all around the ages of 11-14 and for the most part they all get along well. It just so happens to have hit the fan this past week while we were on vacation. I am going to protect the names of the kids here so I am changing them!
This is the conversation that happened between 2 boys in the neighborhood:
Ralph - Your mom doesn't have any friends, all she does is water her flowers.
Frank - my mom has friends so shut up.
Ralph - Your brother is going to end up retarded just like Shane's sister!
Frank said nothing and punched Ralph in the mouth!
Yesterday Frank told Shane what happened and my son's heart is broken. He is angry, mad, sad, and every other emotion you can think of. Shane loves his sister more than anything else in this entire world. For him, yesterday was the first of many days he would have to stand up for his sister.
When Dan told me about this my heart sank in to the lowest part of my belly. It was like I was on a roller coaster ride and I was just tipping over the highest peak and racing downhill. That kind of feeling but not in a good way. My heart instantly hurt for Sophie, for Shane.
And then I was angry!
I contacted the mother of Frank and we had a conversation about what happened. She is equally as upset but it is different for her. She doesn't have a child that is non verbal or one that doesn't walk yet. As much as it sucked to hear that from her son, this is the reality that we live in every single day.
Unfortunately, Ralph's mom isn't someone who will do anything about what was said so there is no use in going to her about this. Ralph is 12, I believe, and it isn't like I can go and deal with him. So, as my great friend told me last night, I need to show him compassion and have Shane do the same.
Do you know how hard this is?
Compassion wasn't the first thing that I thought I should do or give. Compassion is something I show to hurting people, kids, animals, elderly. Not some punk kid who runs his mouth. Then I am reminded by the same friend that hurt people hurt people. Stepping back and looking at this kids home life it is obvious to see where it stems from. He doesn't have a dad around and he and his mom talk to one another like they are buddies in a bar.
So, today I ask for your prayers for me to be able to show compassion to this boy.
Moving forward I ask all of you to stop and think about what comes out of your mouth and how it can affect someone else. Choose to affect them in a positive way!
P.S...Sophie blows them all out of the water!
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
Destined for Divorce
The ugly, brutal, unfortunate, anything but pretty reality is that 80% of couples who have experienced a loss of a child or has a special needs child within the first 5 years of the marriage/relationship will end up divorced. It is safe to say that Dan and I were destined for divorce even before we got married. This statistic has been heavy on my heart this week. This week has as much as an impact on my life as holy week does. This week, June 1-8, is a reminder of the absolute hell Dan and I went through to bring our babies, Denton and Quinton, in to this world only to have them be taken away.
Five years ago this week was the hardest, most painful for of cruel and unusual punishment that we have ever had to endure. It all stated with our 20 week u/s where we found out we were having a boy, then that there were identical twins, and then that one wasn't developing. The next day we were asked to have an abortion. Something I never dreamed anyone would ever as me to have. I had to make a life saving, for Denton, decision that would require emergency surgery in Cincinnati, OH within the next week but that didn't happen. Denton and Quinton came in to this world far too early five years ago on June 8th, 2009.
As I reflect on the last five years I see heartache, pain, frustration, fear, bitterness, anger, uncertainty, confusion, sadness, vulnerability, love, patience, understanding, acceptance, peace, strength, kindness, wisdom and hope! I listed these things the way I did because the first few years I felt like I was being sucker punched in the gut every time I turned around. Shane lost his mom to a heroine overdose, two months later Denton and Quinton were born and died, Sophie was born (one of the ups over this time period), Sophie had 4 surgeries before the age of 2, "D day" (diagnosis day) and the therapies and paperwork and fights with insurance and IEP's was more than any one person should have to endure. It wasn't until the past few years that I have been able to feel and see the positive out of all of this.
What a journey this past five years has been. I am thankful to say that although Dan and I were destined for divorce before we said 'I Do', we have become a better couple through all of our struggles. We have learned to lean on one another for support, give each other space to process, that we grieve differently and that we are still grieving the loss of Denton and Quinton five years later. I can honestly say our marriage is the best it has ever been. Has it been perfect, absolutely not. Has it been smooth sailing all the way through, nope! Have we learned that together we can face whatever life chooses to throw at us, yes! We are better together because of our children, all four of them!
Join me on Sunday in remembering sweet Denton and Quinton. Shed a tear or two if you would like, I know we will.
Happy 5th birthday boys, Mommy and Daddy, Shane & Sophie love you!
Five years ago this week was the hardest, most painful for of cruel and unusual punishment that we have ever had to endure. It all stated with our 20 week u/s where we found out we were having a boy, then that there were identical twins, and then that one wasn't developing. The next day we were asked to have an abortion. Something I never dreamed anyone would ever as me to have. I had to make a life saving, for Denton, decision that would require emergency surgery in Cincinnati, OH within the next week but that didn't happen. Denton and Quinton came in to this world far too early five years ago on June 8th, 2009.
As I reflect on the last five years I see heartache, pain, frustration, fear, bitterness, anger, uncertainty, confusion, sadness, vulnerability, love, patience, understanding, acceptance, peace, strength, kindness, wisdom and hope! I listed these things the way I did because the first few years I felt like I was being sucker punched in the gut every time I turned around. Shane lost his mom to a heroine overdose, two months later Denton and Quinton were born and died, Sophie was born (one of the ups over this time period), Sophie had 4 surgeries before the age of 2, "D day" (diagnosis day) and the therapies and paperwork and fights with insurance and IEP's was more than any one person should have to endure. It wasn't until the past few years that I have been able to feel and see the positive out of all of this.
What a journey this past five years has been. I am thankful to say that although Dan and I were destined for divorce before we said 'I Do', we have become a better couple through all of our struggles. We have learned to lean on one another for support, give each other space to process, that we grieve differently and that we are still grieving the loss of Denton and Quinton five years later. I can honestly say our marriage is the best it has ever been. Has it been perfect, absolutely not. Has it been smooth sailing all the way through, nope! Have we learned that together we can face whatever life chooses to throw at us, yes! We are better together because of our children, all four of them!
Join me on Sunday in remembering sweet Denton and Quinton. Shed a tear or two if you would like, I know we will.
Happy 5th birthday boys, Mommy and Daddy, Shane & Sophie love you!
Thursday, May 8, 2014
...Something to be thankful for!
I was reminded of this again this morning as Sophie and I went on her preschool tour. Yes, I said preschool. If you are wondering how that happened, let me know because I am still wondering myself.
As I looked around the room I saw children that looked like they were completely "normal", I saw children who had obvious physical and mental challenges. Then I turned and looked at Sophie with a smile on her face, looking around checking everyone out. I saw her move about the room trying to explore the brand new places that were just waiting to be blessed by the presence of Sophie. The toys that were just waiting for Sophie to chew on because she thinks EVERYTHING goes in her mouth. (I mean everything....it was a worm last week. A REAL, LIVE, DIRTY, WORM!!)
In that moment, I knew Sophie was going to be ok at the Porter Center.
I have been told in the past 3 years that the LISD Porter Center is one of the best Special Education schools around us. We have heard testimonies from people who have moved to this area because of the teaching and support staff at the Porter Center. Hearing this information from others is comforting to a point, but seeing Sophie in that setting, with other kids her age was more comforting than I imagined.
I have been truly struggling with the idea of Sophie starting preschool. I am sure all parents go through this. I am sure all parents are worried that their child could get hurt at school, or be left out, or have a hard time adjusting. But what all parents don't worry about is the fact that Sophie can't come home and tell me about her day. She won't be able to tell me if a teacher was mean to her, or if she got hurt, or God forbid someone abusing her.
I am sure some people reading this think I am crazy and I shouldn't be worried about this and I would ask you to please not minimize my fears because they are real BIG fears. Imagine your child starting preschool. What fears, worries, concerns did you have? Now imagine if your child couldn't tell you about their day!
When we were taking the tour I saw a little girl crawling up the small incline on her way in to the Motor Skills Room and the teacher right along side of her, crawling with the small girl's communication device in hand going up the incline together.
In that moment I knew Sophie was going to be more than ok at the Porter Center.
Every single person we spoke with was kind, gentle, and couldn't wait to get their hands on Sophie. We even had a teacher from the older kids come in and want to meet Sophie because she had heard so much about her. When asked if Sophie is ok with strangers I smiled and said of course and they treated Sophie like one of their own. Held her, played with her, and snuggled her!
The tour continued and I was informed that because Sophie needs special care compared to some other kids, Sophie will have an extra person in whatever room she is in. She will have what they refer to as a Medical Assistant in the room. Sophie will need diaper changes, help with feeding, drinking, walking, sitting in a chair, using her communications device, etc. It blessed my heart to know that Sophie would have all this extra help, just for her. Just to keep her safe!
In that moment, I knew I was going to be ok with Sophie going to the Porter Center.
I am thankful for the wonderful experience we have had with the LISD, Early On, The On My Way Toddler Group and all of Sophie's therapists, teachers and support staff. As we get ready to transition Sophie to preschool, where Dan or I won't be there, we are going to remain thankful for the experiences we have had and will continue to have with the LISD.
To keep me accountable I have compiled a list of what I will choose to be thankful for on this not so simple road we are on:
I choose to be thankful for Sophie's communications device.
I choose to be thankful for the wheelchair/Stroller that we will have for Sophie to be safe.
I choose to be thankful for the Medical Assistant to be in whatever room Sophie is in to give her the additional attention she needs.
I choose to be thankful for the amazing team behind us every single step of the way and the promises that we have in them not giving up on us, but more importantly, on Sophie.
I choose to be thankful that a place such as the Porter Center exists so that my daughter can get the education she deserves and needs!
This isn't going to be easy for me or for Dan, but I am choosing to remain THANKFUL!
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
Why Not Me?
I was sitting in a room full of beautiful mom's and one dad last night listening as we poured out our hearts on the very unique grief journey that we are facing, or have faced. My heart is still heavy today as I replay the stories of a few moms in that room. I know we aren't supposed to take home the stories of other moms, but this was a particularly difficult night. Maybe it is because we are approaching our 5 year mark since delivering Denton and Quinton, maybe it is because we are in the midst of Holy Week, maybe it was because of the blood moon? Whatever the reason, I am thankful. Thankful to be blessed by each person represented in that room, each baby that will never be forgotten, each tear stained face. Today, I am thankful!
I have heard many people use the words "Why Me" when speaking of trials and tribulations that go on in their lives. I have used those words as well and have never thought twice about the impact they serve. Why Me, has recently changed for me to Why Not Me?
I have really thought about what it meant for me to utter the words, why me. Do I really think that I am so different from every other person on this planet that bad things shouldn't happen to me and my family? Do I think I am special enough, christian enough, good enough to avoid the hardships of life? Am I somehow untouchable when it comes to crappy hands being dealt out in life? This may come as a surprise to many of you, but NO, I am not any of those things when it comes to how this life here on earth is being played out. I am just the same as you, just the same as the millionaire across the country.
I was sharing last month with some ladies in my Tiny Purpose group and we discussed that the loss of a child is something that we wouldn't wish on anyone, not even on the person who we can't stand the sight of. For me, I feel when I say, Why Me, I am saying why can't someone else experience the loss of a child/children instead of me. Why can't someone else have a handicap child instead of me. How can I wish that on someone else? I can't and therefore I have changed the way I think about it. Last month I finally said it out loud in the presence of other moms and dads that have gone though the loss of a child and it was liberating!
Now we are in Holy Week and here I am again thinking of the words Why Me! Jesus died on the cross for me, for you, for all of humanity. What did I do to deserve this? Nothing, I didn't have to do anything for Jesus to die on the cross for me and I am completely humbled and in awe of that fact. Even if I was the only person on this earth, He still would have died on the cross for me! Closing my eyes and envisioning Jesus on the cross brings tears to my eyes. His pain, His suffering all because He loves me!
The pain of losing a child is a pain that I can't even being to describe using the adjectives we have as part of the English language. It is something that NO ONE should ever have to experience. Having a child with special needs is something that I wish didn't have to exist in this life at all. And to think that when I suffer and when I hurt, Jesus hurts too because He loves my babies even more than I do!
So, Why Not Me?
I have heard many people use the words "Why Me" when speaking of trials and tribulations that go on in their lives. I have used those words as well and have never thought twice about the impact they serve. Why Me, has recently changed for me to Why Not Me?
I have really thought about what it meant for me to utter the words, why me. Do I really think that I am so different from every other person on this planet that bad things shouldn't happen to me and my family? Do I think I am special enough, christian enough, good enough to avoid the hardships of life? Am I somehow untouchable when it comes to crappy hands being dealt out in life? This may come as a surprise to many of you, but NO, I am not any of those things when it comes to how this life here on earth is being played out. I am just the same as you, just the same as the millionaire across the country.
I was sharing last month with some ladies in my Tiny Purpose group and we discussed that the loss of a child is something that we wouldn't wish on anyone, not even on the person who we can't stand the sight of. For me, I feel when I say, Why Me, I am saying why can't someone else experience the loss of a child/children instead of me. Why can't someone else have a handicap child instead of me. How can I wish that on someone else? I can't and therefore I have changed the way I think about it. Last month I finally said it out loud in the presence of other moms and dads that have gone though the loss of a child and it was liberating!
Now we are in Holy Week and here I am again thinking of the words Why Me! Jesus died on the cross for me, for you, for all of humanity. What did I do to deserve this? Nothing, I didn't have to do anything for Jesus to die on the cross for me and I am completely humbled and in awe of that fact. Even if I was the only person on this earth, He still would have died on the cross for me! Closing my eyes and envisioning Jesus on the cross brings tears to my eyes. His pain, His suffering all because He loves me!
The pain of losing a child is a pain that I can't even being to describe using the adjectives we have as part of the English language. It is something that NO ONE should ever have to experience. Having a child with special needs is something that I wish didn't have to exist in this life at all. And to think that when I suffer and when I hurt, Jesus hurts too because He loves my babies even more than I do!
So, Why Not Me?
Monday, February 24, 2014
Be Bold
Eyes are closed, I'm standing, swaying back and forth to the music that is slowly coming to an end. The praise team leads in to another song of worship. My hearts starts beating faster, I can feel the tears start to dampen my cheek bones and make their way down my face until they form a perfectly little drop that rolls off of my jaw line. I begin to sing along.
The splendor of a King, clothed in majesty
Let all the earth rejoice
All the earth rejoice
He wraps himself in Light, and darkness tries to hide
And trembles at His voice
Trembles at His voice
How great is our God, sing with me
How great is our God, and all will see
How great, how great is our God
Age to age He stands
And time is in His hands
Beginning and the end
Beginning and the end
The Godhead Three in One
Father Spirit Son
The Lion and the Lamb
The Lion and the Lamb
Name above all names
Worthy of our praise
My heart will sing
How great is our God
How great is our God, sing with me
How great is our God, and all will see
How great, how great is our God
I don't know about you but when I walk in to church and see that we will be partaking in communion I instantly know that we are going to have a good service. A good service usually entails that we are going to be in the presence of God. Being in the presence of God isn't something that is extremely comfortable at all times. Comforting, yes. Comfortable, not always. So as I am worshiping all I can do is sing and let the tears fall. I couldn't do anything else.
Next we go in to a time of prayer. The room was surrounded with people who were ready to pray for you, for whatever you needed. As I sit down in my seat, I am silent. All of a sudden, it is revealed to me that I need to increase my faith in Him. I am more aware at that moment than any other time that I am much more demanding in my prayers when it comes to praying for other people than I am when I am praying for something I need, or my family needs. My heart starts to race, my breathing gets heavy and I start to sob. How is it that I can believe God is going to heal others, give them the desiers of their hearts that I pray for, but not my daughter? That is what it boiled down to. I was unable to move, I was just stopped, taking up permanent residence in my seat. As my friend Renee took my daughter up to be prayed for, I still couldn't move. I knew they were praying for healing over her heart and for that I am thankful.
I left church yesterday knowing that I have some work to do. If I can believe for others then I need to start believing for myself. Not just saying I believe it, but really believing it. I have seen miracles happen, I have heard testimony of sickness being removed from lives without explanation from doctors. I know God heals. But why it so hard for me to know that same truth when it comes to my prayers for Sophie?
There is my heart, out on a platter for you. I am asking for you to pray for me. That I may feel the Lord working on my heart. That I too, will pray just as boldly for my daughter's healing as I do for other people.
The splendor of a King, clothed in majesty
Let all the earth rejoice
All the earth rejoice
He wraps himself in Light, and darkness tries to hide
And trembles at His voice
Trembles at His voice
How great is our God, sing with me
How great is our God, and all will see
How great, how great is our God
Age to age He stands
And time is in His hands
Beginning and the end
Beginning and the end
The Godhead Three in One
Father Spirit Son
The Lion and the Lamb
The Lion and the Lamb
Name above all names
Worthy of our praise
My heart will sing
How great is our God
How great is our God, sing with me
How great is our God, and all will see
How great, how great is our God
I don't know about you but when I walk in to church and see that we will be partaking in communion I instantly know that we are going to have a good service. A good service usually entails that we are going to be in the presence of God. Being in the presence of God isn't something that is extremely comfortable at all times. Comforting, yes. Comfortable, not always. So as I am worshiping all I can do is sing and let the tears fall. I couldn't do anything else.
Next we go in to a time of prayer. The room was surrounded with people who were ready to pray for you, for whatever you needed. As I sit down in my seat, I am silent. All of a sudden, it is revealed to me that I need to increase my faith in Him. I am more aware at that moment than any other time that I am much more demanding in my prayers when it comes to praying for other people than I am when I am praying for something I need, or my family needs. My heart starts to race, my breathing gets heavy and I start to sob. How is it that I can believe God is going to heal others, give them the desiers of their hearts that I pray for, but not my daughter? That is what it boiled down to. I was unable to move, I was just stopped, taking up permanent residence in my seat. As my friend Renee took my daughter up to be prayed for, I still couldn't move. I knew they were praying for healing over her heart and for that I am thankful.
I left church yesterday knowing that I have some work to do. If I can believe for others then I need to start believing for myself. Not just saying I believe it, but really believing it. I have seen miracles happen, I have heard testimony of sickness being removed from lives without explanation from doctors. I know God heals. But why it so hard for me to know that same truth when it comes to my prayers for Sophie?
There is my heart, out on a platter for you. I am asking for you to pray for me. That I may feel the Lord working on my heart. That I too, will pray just as boldly for my daughter's healing as I do for other people.
Thursday, February 13, 2014
Beauty From Ashes
It is with a heavy heart that I sit and type out my thoughts this morning. I have so many of them going though my mind and part of me doesn't even know where to begin. The other part of me is telling me exactly where I need to begin. As I pray for Heather and her family as she awaits the birth of her 21 week old baby, I can't help but remember the birth of my sweet Denton and Quinton. As I try to think of things I could say to comfort her, I am silenced and in the silence I am reminded of the beautiful life my son's had. Short yes, beautiful nonetheless.
It was a cold day in February 2009 when my body knew something wasn't as it once was. I was at work and I decided to buy a pregnancy test on my lunch. Who does this at work? I went to the bathroom, peed on the test and waited 2 minutes, just like the directions said. I had never taken one before and I knew I didn't want to screw this up! After what felt like an eternity of waiting I looked at the test, held my breath and bam....it was blank. There was absolutely nothing on the little rectangular window. How did I screw this up is what was going through my mind. Because I didn't want anyone to see what I had been doing I took the test and wrapped it in toilet paper, put it in my pocket and transferred it to my purse. I don't know what possessed me to look at the test again but I did, about 15 minutes later and there was a pretty pink + sign. Could it be? Really? It must be a fluke because if I was really pregnant then it would have come up after the 2 minutes. I wasn't convinced so I left work, went to the drug store and purchased a 2 pack of the First Response pregnancy test. I went to the same bathroom and followed the same instructions. Before I could even bring the test up to eye level after peeing on it, there was another pretty pink + sign. One would think that would have been enough to convince me but let me tell you this, over the first 8-10 weeks before my first doctor's appointment, I bought 10 tests. Yes, 10!
The first few weeks went by and Dan and I were still trying to process that I was pregnant. We weren't married so I had an overwhelming feeling of guilt. I let God down, is what I thought. I let my parents down also, is what I told myself. None of that was true by the way. Just still thoughts that the devil tried putting in my mind. God and my parents still loved me and they were going to love this baby; more than likely more than they loved me! :)
At the first doctor's appointment I was so overwhelmed with all of the information they were feeding us. Dan had been through this before but it was a first for me. The paperwork they give you for "reading material"....enough said! Then came the cold wand they put a rubber glove over and then I was able to see our baby for the first time. I was instantly in love. More in love with Dan at that point as well. It was estimated that I was about 9 weeks long and we could see the heart beating so strong.
The days and weeks continued and I started to show. At that point I decided it was time to announce to our parents that we were pregnant. Everyone was so happy and tears of joy were shed. I remember making the phone call to my dad and I was so scared to tell him because I didn't want him to be disappointed in me. Guess what, he wasn't!
As the pregnancy continued I did everything right. I stopped smoking (yes, I was smoking cigarettes. Gross, I know!) I stopped drinking caffeinated beverages. I took my prenatal vitamins and ate healthy, ummmm.....healthier! Everything was perfect. I was around 17 weeks pregnant and I felt the first movement. Dan, Shane and I were outside and I felt the little flutter on the left front side of my belly. It was the creepiest yet most exciting feeling I had ever experienced. It came, it went, I cried.
Then comes the 20 week U/S on Monday, June 1st. For us, it was 21 weeks due to scheduling. My bladder was full, my heart was beating so fast that I honestly thought it was going to explode, and then they called my name. We made our way down the long hallway to 1 of 2 U/S rooms. It was the room on the left, the room I will never step foot in again! As the tech started the u/s Dan was holding his breath because he was hoping for a boy. The tech said we were having a boy and we were so happy. As the appointment continued Dan thought he saw her put 2 in the field that asked how many fetuses. The tech told him it was just one but it was something they needed to do just for paperwork. Dan asked 2 other times if it was just one baby and they told him yes. The techs left the room to make sure they had all the pictures they needed and were going to show them to the radiologist. Dan left to go take Shane his book bag at school. We were all in a hurry that morning. I was sitting in the room alone for what felt like an eternity.
The door opens and in walks the 2 techs and the radiologist. Without any warning the radiologist tells me that I was pregnant with twins but one was developing as a tissue and that I was to go to my doctor right away, she was waiting for me. The room went white. Honestly, white. I could hear their voices but I couldn't make out what they were saying. I thought my heart was racing before, it was nothing compared to what it was at that point in time. I left the hospital and started calling Dan. He wasn't answering. "Why in the hell wasn't he answering", is what I was yelling. I called my mom. I sobbed as I told her what was happening and that I couldn't get a hold of Dan. I went home, Dan wasn't there. I don't know what it was but I turned my car out of my driveway and went to his buddy's house and there was Dan's car. I ran up to the door, didn't even knock and told him we had to go. He could see that I had been crying. As we are walking towards my car I tell him what is going on. He was totally caught off guard. His excitement of having a baby boy had turned in to fear of the unknown, confusion of having twins, and sadness that I was hurting and he couldn't do anything about it.
The next few days were filled with appointments. I saw my OB, a High Risk OB and then my OB again. I was asked to have an abortion, let nature take it's course, or have surgery to help the healthy twin have a chance at life. Dan and I chose for me to go to Cincinnati to have surgery. I was put on bed rest and awaited surgery. Surgery was scheduled and I was to be in Cincinnati in 2 weeks. My mom flew in from Colorado because we thought surgery would be sooner. My parents from Hillsdale came in to spend time with us and we were just surrounded by family.
Sunday morning, June 7th I woke up to a quarter sized blood spot. Dan rushed me to the hospital where they did a bedside u/s and saw that my babies were still alive. They checked everything out on me and my cervix was still closed. I was sent home with the understanding that I was to be taken to Cincinnati the next morning.Dan got me home, I rested and ate a little bit. I woke up and had to pee every couple of minutes. I was peeing myself, so I thought. This went on for a few hours and Dan finally said "Are you going to let me take you to the hospital now?" I agreed. On the way to the hospital I had 7 contractions in a 5 minute drive.My contractions were back to back.
I will spare you the other details but I was finally admitted to the hospital once my water broke. The moment that happened I started sobbing uncontrollably. I knew what it meant. Dan told me it was going to be ok. No it isn't, I yelled at him. The nurses tried to comfort me by telling me that maybe it was only one sac that ruptured. I knew better. Dan asked me not to look because the amount of fluid and blood that came out of my body he said looked like a scene from a horror movie.
Labor continued. Family was in the room with me and they were freezing. Apparently, I needed my room to be sub zero temperatures. Sorry guys! Monday, June 8th in the wee hours of the morning I gave birth to Quinton first. He was rushed out of the room because of his physical appearance. I never got to hold him, touch him, see him for myself. I could only stroke his body with my finger pressed up against the glossy finish of a 4x6 picture. A few minutes later Denton was born. He was born not breathing but he had a heart beat. My doctor asked me to hold him and I refused. That is the ugly truth. Before you judge me and shake you head and ask yourself how could a mother refuse to hold her own baby, know that it took everything I had to go through the cruel and unusual punishment of laboring them knowing that they wouldn't survive. Kind of puts you in a dark mental place. Dan held Denton and he and my doctor urged me to hold him. I am so thankful they did. I held Denton in my arms. His tiny little, perfect little body was in my arms. He looked so perfectly formed at only 21 weeks 3 days. He looked like his brother, Shane. He had a crooked little pinky finger, just like the Stegg boys (His daddy, brother and Uncle Andrew). He had the start of a uni-brow, just like his daddy and brother. I am so thankful I was able to hold him because I can still remember the color of his skin, the perfectly formed body, the peaceful look on his face as his heart stopped beating while still in my arms.
The next few months were hell. Absolute hell. I would wake up in the middle of the night and sob. I would do it in hiding because I didn't want to make Dan sad with my sobbing. I didn't know it at the time but he knew I was doing it because he heard me. I was so sad. So heartbroken. I was lost. I was pissed off at the world, angry, and full of grief. I didn't know then that today I would be able to sit here and type this out without being sad. I didn't think it was possible. I thought that I would have been that way forever. It got better, it still gets better every single day. Today, I am thankful!
So, Heather, I offer you this. I am praying for you. I know that this is hell for you right now, in this very moment. I know that you would give your own life just to have your baby's life spared. I know that your heart is in your throat, but it will soon find its way back to the spot it belongs. I know that you feel like life won't ever be the same, and you are right. A piece of you is gone and you will never get it back. As ugly of a time that it is right now, there is beauty in the life your baby brought. Beauty in the strength that you will dig deep inside to find just to get out of bed in the morning to take care of your beautiful daughter at home. Beauty in the love that will grow even stronger between you and your husband. Beauty from Ashes my friend!
It was a cold day in February 2009 when my body knew something wasn't as it once was. I was at work and I decided to buy a pregnancy test on my lunch. Who does this at work? I went to the bathroom, peed on the test and waited 2 minutes, just like the directions said. I had never taken one before and I knew I didn't want to screw this up! After what felt like an eternity of waiting I looked at the test, held my breath and bam....it was blank. There was absolutely nothing on the little rectangular window. How did I screw this up is what was going through my mind. Because I didn't want anyone to see what I had been doing I took the test and wrapped it in toilet paper, put it in my pocket and transferred it to my purse. I don't know what possessed me to look at the test again but I did, about 15 minutes later and there was a pretty pink + sign. Could it be? Really? It must be a fluke because if I was really pregnant then it would have come up after the 2 minutes. I wasn't convinced so I left work, went to the drug store and purchased a 2 pack of the First Response pregnancy test. I went to the same bathroom and followed the same instructions. Before I could even bring the test up to eye level after peeing on it, there was another pretty pink + sign. One would think that would have been enough to convince me but let me tell you this, over the first 8-10 weeks before my first doctor's appointment, I bought 10 tests. Yes, 10!
The first few weeks went by and Dan and I were still trying to process that I was pregnant. We weren't married so I had an overwhelming feeling of guilt. I let God down, is what I thought. I let my parents down also, is what I told myself. None of that was true by the way. Just still thoughts that the devil tried putting in my mind. God and my parents still loved me and they were going to love this baby; more than likely more than they loved me! :)
At the first doctor's appointment I was so overwhelmed with all of the information they were feeding us. Dan had been through this before but it was a first for me. The paperwork they give you for "reading material"....enough said! Then came the cold wand they put a rubber glove over and then I was able to see our baby for the first time. I was instantly in love. More in love with Dan at that point as well. It was estimated that I was about 9 weeks long and we could see the heart beating so strong.
The days and weeks continued and I started to show. At that point I decided it was time to announce to our parents that we were pregnant. Everyone was so happy and tears of joy were shed. I remember making the phone call to my dad and I was so scared to tell him because I didn't want him to be disappointed in me. Guess what, he wasn't!
As the pregnancy continued I did everything right. I stopped smoking (yes, I was smoking cigarettes. Gross, I know!) I stopped drinking caffeinated beverages. I took my prenatal vitamins and ate healthy, ummmm.....healthier! Everything was perfect. I was around 17 weeks pregnant and I felt the first movement. Dan, Shane and I were outside and I felt the little flutter on the left front side of my belly. It was the creepiest yet most exciting feeling I had ever experienced. It came, it went, I cried.
Then comes the 20 week U/S on Monday, June 1st. For us, it was 21 weeks due to scheduling. My bladder was full, my heart was beating so fast that I honestly thought it was going to explode, and then they called my name. We made our way down the long hallway to 1 of 2 U/S rooms. It was the room on the left, the room I will never step foot in again! As the tech started the u/s Dan was holding his breath because he was hoping for a boy. The tech said we were having a boy and we were so happy. As the appointment continued Dan thought he saw her put 2 in the field that asked how many fetuses. The tech told him it was just one but it was something they needed to do just for paperwork. Dan asked 2 other times if it was just one baby and they told him yes. The techs left the room to make sure they had all the pictures they needed and were going to show them to the radiologist. Dan left to go take Shane his book bag at school. We were all in a hurry that morning. I was sitting in the room alone for what felt like an eternity.
The door opens and in walks the 2 techs and the radiologist. Without any warning the radiologist tells me that I was pregnant with twins but one was developing as a tissue and that I was to go to my doctor right away, she was waiting for me. The room went white. Honestly, white. I could hear their voices but I couldn't make out what they were saying. I thought my heart was racing before, it was nothing compared to what it was at that point in time. I left the hospital and started calling Dan. He wasn't answering. "Why in the hell wasn't he answering", is what I was yelling. I called my mom. I sobbed as I told her what was happening and that I couldn't get a hold of Dan. I went home, Dan wasn't there. I don't know what it was but I turned my car out of my driveway and went to his buddy's house and there was Dan's car. I ran up to the door, didn't even knock and told him we had to go. He could see that I had been crying. As we are walking towards my car I tell him what is going on. He was totally caught off guard. His excitement of having a baby boy had turned in to fear of the unknown, confusion of having twins, and sadness that I was hurting and he couldn't do anything about it.
The next few days were filled with appointments. I saw my OB, a High Risk OB and then my OB again. I was asked to have an abortion, let nature take it's course, or have surgery to help the healthy twin have a chance at life. Dan and I chose for me to go to Cincinnati to have surgery. I was put on bed rest and awaited surgery. Surgery was scheduled and I was to be in Cincinnati in 2 weeks. My mom flew in from Colorado because we thought surgery would be sooner. My parents from Hillsdale came in to spend time with us and we were just surrounded by family.
Sunday morning, June 7th I woke up to a quarter sized blood spot. Dan rushed me to the hospital where they did a bedside u/s and saw that my babies were still alive. They checked everything out on me and my cervix was still closed. I was sent home with the understanding that I was to be taken to Cincinnati the next morning.Dan got me home, I rested and ate a little bit. I woke up and had to pee every couple of minutes. I was peeing myself, so I thought. This went on for a few hours and Dan finally said "Are you going to let me take you to the hospital now?" I agreed. On the way to the hospital I had 7 contractions in a 5 minute drive.My contractions were back to back.
I will spare you the other details but I was finally admitted to the hospital once my water broke. The moment that happened I started sobbing uncontrollably. I knew what it meant. Dan told me it was going to be ok. No it isn't, I yelled at him. The nurses tried to comfort me by telling me that maybe it was only one sac that ruptured. I knew better. Dan asked me not to look because the amount of fluid and blood that came out of my body he said looked like a scene from a horror movie.
Labor continued. Family was in the room with me and they were freezing. Apparently, I needed my room to be sub zero temperatures. Sorry guys! Monday, June 8th in the wee hours of the morning I gave birth to Quinton first. He was rushed out of the room because of his physical appearance. I never got to hold him, touch him, see him for myself. I could only stroke his body with my finger pressed up against the glossy finish of a 4x6 picture. A few minutes later Denton was born. He was born not breathing but he had a heart beat. My doctor asked me to hold him and I refused. That is the ugly truth. Before you judge me and shake you head and ask yourself how could a mother refuse to hold her own baby, know that it took everything I had to go through the cruel and unusual punishment of laboring them knowing that they wouldn't survive. Kind of puts you in a dark mental place. Dan held Denton and he and my doctor urged me to hold him. I am so thankful they did. I held Denton in my arms. His tiny little, perfect little body was in my arms. He looked so perfectly formed at only 21 weeks 3 days. He looked like his brother, Shane. He had a crooked little pinky finger, just like the Stegg boys (His daddy, brother and Uncle Andrew). He had the start of a uni-brow, just like his daddy and brother. I am so thankful I was able to hold him because I can still remember the color of his skin, the perfectly formed body, the peaceful look on his face as his heart stopped beating while still in my arms.
The next few months were hell. Absolute hell. I would wake up in the middle of the night and sob. I would do it in hiding because I didn't want to make Dan sad with my sobbing. I didn't know it at the time but he knew I was doing it because he heard me. I was so sad. So heartbroken. I was lost. I was pissed off at the world, angry, and full of grief. I didn't know then that today I would be able to sit here and type this out without being sad. I didn't think it was possible. I thought that I would have been that way forever. It got better, it still gets better every single day. Today, I am thankful!
So, Heather, I offer you this. I am praying for you. I know that this is hell for you right now, in this very moment. I know that you would give your own life just to have your baby's life spared. I know that your heart is in your throat, but it will soon find its way back to the spot it belongs. I know that you feel like life won't ever be the same, and you are right. A piece of you is gone and you will never get it back. As ugly of a time that it is right now, there is beauty in the life your baby brought. Beauty in the strength that you will dig deep inside to find just to get out of bed in the morning to take care of your beautiful daughter at home. Beauty in the love that will grow even stronger between you and your husband. Beauty from Ashes my friend!
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