pregnancy

A Hard, Hard Season (My 11th Pregnancy and Postpartum)

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 2 Comments

I haven’t written very much in the past 3 years.  I haven’t posted anything on my blog since 2023.  I have so much inside, and it is time to get it out.  I fear exposure and being too vulnerable, but I also know my story is not just my own. I know there are others out there who have lived through a hard, hard season and may be haunted by the trauma left behind.

I want to tell my story of God’s goodness in it all!

               The year 2023 started with many God encounters.  I experienced the love of God as my father and my mother in deeper ways than I had before.  Jesus started opening my heart to His romantic advances.  I had knowledge of this divine romance, but had little experience with it. Jesus was wooing me!  Waves and waves of His love would roll over me culminating at the Women’s Encounter in March (called Waves) when I discovered that I was pregnant at 47 with baby 11. I was so thrilled!  Intimacy produces good fruit, doesn’t it?

               I had so much faith for this season.  I prayed that God would redeem all trauma from my 10th pregnancy and birth. I prayed for supernatural healing and for the best pregnancy and birth yet!  I heard through a couple sources a word from God, “I will give you all that you have asked for (1 Kings 5:8).” 

               I asked for a homebirth that would redeem the nightmare homebirth turned ambulance ride from 5 years ago.  But the health care professionals I reached out to labeled me “high risk.”  God worked a miracle!  I friend introduced me to a “Crunchy Mama” Facebook page which introduced me to a “Homebirth” page which introduced me to a midwife who was currently pregnant with her 10th, in her 40s, and had successfully delivered many women like me at home.

               I struggled to get through the first trimester, but that is always the case for me.  I was looking forward to the second trimester and taking the family vacation we had already planned for June.  That beautiful, glorious vacation at a house along the Loyalsock Creek began my descent into despair.  I had been hoping to be full of energy for every family outing, but I had to push myself to do anything.  I still was nauseous from the first trimester, but the aches and pains plus varicose veins from the third trimester were already upon me. I had picked out the cutest outfit to wear on a date with Chris, but alas, I was already too big to wear it! Feeling old, big, and ugly; I still looked for a God encounter.

God speaks to me on every vacation we take, and this year we had revisited the area where I had first spotted an eagle. I had purchased a photo of the eagle at the Hills Grove General Store right before I walked outside and saw the eagle in person!  That was six years ago, and what a wonderful adventure it has been, learning to soar with God above the earth. I tell all about it in previous blog post , and part 2

               We planned a trip to the same store which is now called the McCarthy Mercantile.  It looked much the same, but no eagles inside or outside! That was on Tuesday. On Wednesday I was talking to God about seeing an eagle again. It had been such a long time since I had seen one.  We were leaving Saturday morning, and I didn’t want my God encounter to slip away.  I was standing by an open window, listening to the rushing water of the creek outside. What a calming sound.

               “This time it isn’t about the eagle.  It is about the water,” I heard God say.

               Oh, it was so good to hear His voice!  But what did He mean?  I loved the symbol of the eagle dearly and missed it.  I pictured the waterfall that Much-Afraid beheld in Hinds Feet on High Places. The water was joyfully leaping down the mountain, to be broken on the rocks and to flow ever lower until it met with the expanse of the ocean. 

               “Am I supposed to be like that? To go lower and lower and to pour myself out like a drink offering?  To not care if I live or die.  To be happy about sorrow and suffering?”

               This thought was not nearly as thrilling as soaring like an eagle.  Even though I knew that God is always good and loving, I felt discouraged.

               “This isn’t what I wanted, what I was hoping for,” I whispered to Him.  If He offered me comfort, I did not hear it.

               As the second trimester was nearing the third, I couldn’t resolve my severe anemia, and I blamed it for all my weird symptoms like shortness of breath, extreme fatigue, and an unsteadiness that hindered me from walking in a straight line.  I was supposed to be out walking, but I felt like I couldn’t walk!  I was supposed to be doing exercises, but I felt like I could hardly move. I finally received an iron infusion and prayed that it would work since my midwife had been threatening to transfer my care to Divine Mercy Hospital.

               It worked, at least my bloodwork said it did.  But I felt no different. I wondered how I was going to get through my third trimester with this feeling and my core muscles already threatening to give out on me completely. Despite God’s love for me, one thought kept returning.

               “If God loves me so much, why would He want me to suffer?”

               In September I had a dream that felt very spiritual.  In my dream, I was on vacation in the mountains at a Christian Retreat Center.  I was sleeping so much that I hadn’t even seen the mountains.  I saw two of my other friends heading out for a hike, and I didn’t want them to think that I couldn’t handle my pregnancy, so I rushed to follow them.  My five-year-old daughter Aria joined me. 

               When we stepped out to take a walk, we found ourselves viewing a cityscape like New York City.  We were in a high rise with floor to ceiling glass and the view was amazing!  I saw some very large birds flying among the skyscrapers and stepped closer to the glass.  Could they be eagles?

               One bird started flying straight for me and in excitement I thought, “This could be my God Encounter!”

               The eagle flew right up to the glass and hovered there. It was much larger than I had first thought.  Horror filled my heart as I saw what the eagle really was. It was covered with fluffy white feathers, and one wing had been mangled.  The bloody twisted bones protruded where the feathers had been stripped.  But it’s face!  Not the face of an eagle but the face of a man.  A man with chalky white skin and pink and red makeup drawn haphazardly around the eyes, like a clown you would see in a horror movie.  Oh, how I wished that Aria wasn’t with me to witness this dreadful sight.

               I saw the expression on the ghastly face.  It was smiling at me. No, smirking at me.  It knew something I didn’t know and was wickedly happy about it.

Mocking me as though it was saying, “So you have trusted God?  I am going to enjoy picking you apart bit by bit.”

               I woke up with a start and didn’t know what to think.  The next few days the face of that eagle would flash through my mind and each time my trauma response increased.  Finally, I sought God and asked Him to explain it to me.

               He answered in His gentle way, “That is how you are seeing me right now.  You feel sorry for yourself because you feel mistreated by me. You wonder if I am good and you wonder if I love you.  Take that belief system to the ultimate end and you get a God who delights in torturing you.  That is not who I am.”

               I felt ashamed!  Yet unable to get out from under it.  Finally, I told Chris about the dream and how I felt about God telling me that it is not about the eagle this time but the water.  He helped to bring me out of my hormonal haze and show me reality. He saw the water as a very positive thing. He sent me a video of water flowing over a dam so I could hear the sound whenever I needed it.  When I listened to it, I heard, “Nothing bad has happened.”  I was fearing and worrying over many things, but none of them had manifested…except my sorrow and suffering.  How to bear up under it?

               Pastor Charles had been doing a series on Strongholds, and I realized that I had one: a mindset impregnated with hopelessness about situations contrary to God’s will that I had accepted as unchangeable.  I was sitting in church listening, but pain in my back and neck wouldn’t allow me to stay any longer. I had to get up and go to the bathroom.  A dear friend and prayer counselor, Lori, was in the ladies’ room, and she asked me how I was doing.  I probably mustered a “pretty good” or “ok”, but actually I was in the depths of despair.  Lori looked me in the eyes and said, “Are you depressed?”  I don’t think I have ever answered “yes” to the question before, but I did this time.

               She whisked me off to her prayer room and, oh the tears and wonderful words of God that were released there.  It was a lifeline to keep me going.

               I texted Chris, who was still in the service, about where I was.  He forgot to check his phone, so after the service, he had many of the women scouring every nook and cranny of the church to find me.  He was worried enough to organize a search party, and I felt so loved!

               The rest of my pregnancy became about trusting moment by moment, getting as comfortable as I could, and sleeping.  I was able to sleep 14 hours a day and still felt exhausted, but how glorious was the sleep!  I began to visualize how I wanted my labor to go.  The bulk of the contracting and dilating would happen while I slept.  I would wake up to discover that my baby had dropped into position.  He would slide out easily. I wouldn’t be pregnant anymore!  I could eat whatever I wanted!  I could sit and nurse to my heart’s content!  I could meet this mysterious little man who flipped and twisted and laid himself out diagonally inside me.

               At 38 weeks I received a phone call from my midwife. She explained that my bloodwork came back with some very bad numbers, and she was worried that I had a condition I had never heard of before (some rare form of preeclampsia).  She used a lot of words, but I understood almost none of them.  She wanted me to pack a bag and go to Divine Mercy to be induced immediately!   I wanted to collapse in bed and wail, but I had visitors sent by Ashlyn’s case worker to set up care for her.  I got through the meeting and received another call from the midwife. 

               “I called Divine Mercy. They told me that your bloodwork isn’t as bad as I thought. I can monitor you until you deliver, and if your blood pressure doesn’t go up and your bloodwork doesn’t get worse, you should be fine. But you must take your blood pressure twice a day, eat protein every hour, and double your water intake,” she said. 

Now I had many more hoops to jump through to secure my homebirth but…phew!  I was incredibly relieved!!      

               This baby was going to come early…any day now, I just knew it.  He was so heavy and so low, he just had to be ready.  My midwife had explained that mothers of many babies tend to go late because their bellies have been overextended and the baby isn’t in line with the birth canal.  I faithfully taped up my belly as far as I could manage with kinesiology tape and tried not to bother with how itchy it was. Everyday I went to bed with the expectation, “This could be the night.”  Every morning, I woke up pregnant.  I experienced contractions while I slept. Just mild ones that wouldn’t wake me up but would be in my dreams. Finally at almost 40 weeks, I stopped thinking that baby Camden would come early and just said to myself, “I made it through this day, I can make it through another,” and would fall asleep in peace.  Now I was getting stronger contractions at night that would wake me up, but I was able to go back to sleep.

               Finally on Dec 4th, only 3 days overdue, the glorious morning came when the contractions didn’t stop.  I experienced a redeeming home birth that played out much like I prayed that it would.  Except that it wasn’t easy or pain free. It was the most painful of the 11. 

And there was a little trouble afterwards with a sudden flow of blood that convinced the midwife and my husband that I was minutes away from dying.

This prompted a 911 call and a flurry of activity that changed the entire atmosphere: from relaxed and comfortable bliss to frantic and jarring fear.  Thankfully, I quickly stabilized, and the ambulance was canceled.  Chris said it was the prayer team he had assembled in a matter of seconds.  The midwife said it was Camden who saved me as he nursed and looked at me with wide eyes.  I said I was never going to die and felt just fine (until I tried to stand and walk).

Overall, it was a beautiful, fast homebirth to a robust and healthy boy! I was so thankful!

There was the small detail of a strange man pushing his way into my bedroom to ask me questions while I nursed my baby, still laying naked on my bed. The ambulance hadn’t been canceled after all! That indecency haunted me for months afterward.

               I finally asked Chris, “Why didn’t any of you think to cover me in that moment?”

               “You should be glad to be alive!  You need to remember all the miracles God has done for us,” he would reply.  And he would list them again and again.  I wrote them down and meditated on them.  It was truly stunning what God had done for us!

               Yet I found myself weeping often: when Camden wasn’t gaining enough weight, when I recovered so slowly, when I noticed how hard it was on the rest of the family, when I felt like a burden, when I wasn’t even good at my main job – nursing.  Finally, Chris called Lori and had her talk to me while I lay on our bed, exhausted.  Again, I was able to release tears and trauma and except His love.

That was the turning point where I left depression behind and embraced this new season before me. I love the newborn stage and tried to enjoy every minute: through homeschooling, through nursing and making of homemade formula, through Chris’ transition from a good, steady income with health insurance to owning a business with no guarantees.   We also had so many good times with our children and many opportunities to experience grace.

Summer and then autumn came again. I felt God leading me to homeschool my two high school boys in addition to the other 3 younger children.  I had never done high school before because it was just too difficult. It is just like God to give me this assignment while I was still feeling like my pregnancy had left me much weaker than before. He believed in me.

I had pruned my life down to the essentials: sleeping, eating, praying, taking care of my family and then cleaning, cooking, and homeschool if there was time.  It was hard to get the family all to church. Hanging out with friends became a very rare treat. I had dropped out of women’s prayer.  I wasn’t posting any blog articles or interacting much on social media.  In October I felt compelled to dedicate Camden at church.  I just had to release a spoken testimony about this miracle baby, or I was going to bust!  He was happy, healthy, and developing perfectly.

A few days after Camden’s first birthday I was able to attend the Women’s event in December. It was very powerful and Marcey started us out with a quote from “The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe”.

Aslan said to Lucy and Susan after his resurrection, “Climb onto my back, we have far to go, and little time to get there.”

I pictured Grace carrying me all this time.  That was the only way I was going to get anywhere important.

Marcey said, “This will be the ride of our lives. It will be hard, but I don’t want you to disqualify yourselves. We need all of us. We need to surrender to Him.”

She was speaking right to me and igniting a fire.  I didn’t just want to survive; I wanted to run my race again and let Grace carry me to places unknown.

Each woman had been given a little journal with a personalized word printed on the inside. My word was, “UNBROKEN.”  I pulled mine out and started writing.

We watched a clip of the movie and Aslan was talking again after his resurrection, “If they [those who had killed him on the stone table] would have understood the power of sacrifice, they would have interpreted the ancient prophecy differently.  When someone who has committed no treason, willingly gives themselves up, the stone table will crack, and death itself will begin to move backwards.”

The power of sacrifice – the phase seemed to burn into my mind.

“Is that what you have been doing in my life the past two years?” I asked God.  Each moment of weakness, pain, depression, shame, and seeming defeat that I had gone through…could it be that there was power in it?  My sacrifice to carry my 11th miracle child contained within it little gems of power to bring God’s glory to the earth?  I didn’t realize it at the time, but perhaps my feeble attempts to praise God and follow Him through the sacrifice were like little altars, the smoke of sweet-smelling incense rising to heaven and pleasing God?

A vision of the evil eagle from my dream popped into my mind again.  It still plagued me from time to time.  It brought shame when I remembered it, because I thought it was just my subconscious mind showing me how I viewed God, a reminder of how far I had fallen from my lovesick devotion prior to becoming pregnant. 

I heard a whisper from God, “Your enemy showed you his face.  He thought he could take you out, take your baby out, take your family out. Not once did he pluck you out of my hands. Your life and purpose were secure the entire time.  You remain UNBROKEN.”

Peace began to chase away the shame.  I asked God what I should do with the image of the devilish eagle.  I began to surrender to God and saw a rushing river.  The water was so dark, it was black.  I couldn’t see how deep it was or where it was going.  The eagle circled above the river.  Dark water in the form of great black arms reached for the bird. The water pulled my enemy down into the river and the eagle was completely consumed, never to be seen again.

I prayed, “I surrender to your river, your living water.  It feels like a risk – I can’t see the bottom; it is so dark. I can’t discern where it is going.  I don’t know what will happen to me.  Will I sink, swim, or float?”

It seemed like I received an immediate answer from the LORD as Yadira’s voice broke through, “This is a new day.  You have been tested and purified.  You have been given a double portion of faith. A new assignment.  You are being commissioned for a new assignment.  Surrender to whatever God wants.”

A new surrender

A deeper surrender

A holy surrender

The perfect conclusion to a hard, hard season.             

How God Encountered Me at the 2023 Women’s Encounter

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 5 Comments

Last year at this time I wrote about “How God Encountered Me at the 2022 Women’s Encounter.” I ended the article with a look into the future, “I know that I will find Him in unexpected ways in the midst of the ‘Waves’, The Women’s Encounter March 24-25, 2023.”

That was an understatement! I found God in extremely unexpected ways…here is my story…

I was so excited for “Waves”, the Women’s Encounter in March 2023. Not only could I take in the presence of God in the worship, hear His voice through the preaching, and connect to other women, I could also pray on the ministry team. I looked at my calendar about a week before, and I realized that I would be experiencing my time of the month all Encounter weekend.  Not ideal, but I had no worries. 

              On Thursday I thought my period was coming early.  Out of the blue, a wave of sorrow crashed into me. I wasn’t even aware that I had wanted to be pregnant, but just then I felt empty, alone, and forsaken. Immediately I was bombarded by thoughts like,

              “I am not as important without a new life inside.  I am not as valuable.  I could disappear right now, and no one would notice.”

              Despite fighting against these thoughts, I fell into a depressed funk, so different from my previous excitement and hope.  Friday night of the Encounter arrived, and I was still expecting my flow to start any moment.

               Worship was beautiful.  Jesus came to me in a vision.  He and I were standing on a beach, face to face.  The waves were lapping at our feet. It was just Him and me. No earth, no universe, no other people.  I had never done anything right or anything wrong.  I had been stripped to my most elemental being, the being He had created. Nothing was required of me except to receive His love.  Yet I couldn’t help but love Him back!  Suddenly it didn’t matter if I was carrying the tiny seed of a child, or if I was empty.  He loved me.  Just me.  Always and forever me.  And I was His perfect match. 

              Peace washed over me. Little thoughts still skirted around the edges of my mind, in and out of the peace.

              “What if I am pregnant?  Will I be strong enough?  What if I am not pregnant?  Will I be sad?  What if my fertility is at its end? What if it isn’t?!!!”

              I received my scripture, Matt 6:33-34 (MSG):

“Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God provisions.  Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met. Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don’t get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes.”

I viewed the rest of the weekend through incredible peace. At the same time, I had babies on the brain. Yadira spoke about “This time next year.”  What incredible things would God do in us by this time next year?  I kept thinking, “Maybe I will have a baby at this time next year.”

              Sue spoke about the WAVES (Women Accepted for Volunteer Emergency Service) during WWII when women were released and activated to help in the war effort, to do things that women had never done before.  I kept thinking of women returning to their homes with unexpected pregnancies or other unforeseen circumstances to embrace motherhood in new and amazing ways.

The first woman I prayed for during the ministry time said she wanted to have a baby.  I was so excited and said, “That is one of my favorite prayers.  I have faith for that!”

              Saturday morning came and still no period. I was a bit distracted and didn’t even know what was coming out of my mouth during the prayer times. I found out later that at least one woman felt that my prayer for her was a word from God that gave her fresh fire for her ministry.  This just proves that God really can speak through anyone at any time if He wants to.  I also got to pray for two wombs to be filled!

              Sunday morning came, still no period. Our family went to church, and when it was time to take communion, I found two wafers in my small container. I felt that communion was significant, and it was healing me.

              During the lovely sunny afternoon, Chris announced to me, “I can’t wait any longer.  I am going to pick up a pregnancy test right now!”

              Soon we were both in the bathroom watching two confident lines burst forth. Chris and I just looked at each other with equal parts awe, wonderment, and shock. 

Funny how two little lines can change everything for all eternity!

              Excitement and some fear came rushing in.  My last pregnancy and labor, five years prior, had been very difficult and traumatic.  I asked Chris if he would fast and pray for me and the baby. His eyes became misty, and he gave me a heartfelt, “yes!”

              Still on a high from the Women’s Encounter, I felt that this pregnancy would be a redemption of all that went wrong last time.  This became my constant prayer.  Since my encounter with Jesus had been so amazing, I was expecting this pregnancy to be glorious, easy, and fun!

              I started to feel more tired, dizzy, and forgetful. I had cramps off and on with spotting for weeks. All the emotionally charged fears began to come.

              I tried to remember my verse, “Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don’t get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow.”

              After Easter, I felt my normal first trimester symptoms. They were different and worse than ever!  Perhaps it was the severe anemia. Soon I had the sick feelings of the first trimester and all the aches and pains of the third trimester manifesting at once, and it was only June!  My due date was Dec. 1st.

I began to think that this pregnancy was going to be the hardest thing I had ever done.

              I began to lose heart.  I began to believe the voice of the Accuser that told me that I was a wretch for going back on all God had shown me.  Soon I was battling depression.  I was accusing my own loving Father by saying, “I am willing to carry as many babies as you have for me, but why do I have to suffer so much to do it?  I thought you loved me.  Why do you want me to suffer?”

              I encountered many good scriptures about suffering, but hope and joy seemed hard to find.  I could sleep for 14 hours in a day and still be exhausted. Every time I went to lay in my bed, I would see the little glass bottle from the Women’s Encounter on my headboard.  It contained sand and a single word, “Stronger.”  God showed me so many scriptures about strength and how strength comes from God.  I would say to myself with the small amount of faith I had, “God is making me stronger and stronger” and then I would surrender to His arms and to sleep.

              I tried to live in the presence of Jesus, in His love.  I got little glimpses, but it seemed much harder than before.  I wished I had already learned the lessons from the various speakers at the Waves Encounter.

Patty had shared about how God can rescue His promises from the depths of the grave.  When we face trials there is the temptation to trade what we know (the faithful love of God) for what we don’t know (why did this trial or tragedy happen).  I had fallen to that temptation and now I felt that God had betrayed my trust in the worst possible way. Disappointment was my constant companion.

              A friend of mine who does prayer ministry helped me through this.  She encouraged me to let God love me in my disappointment, to let Him love me through my feelings of betrayal.  He wasn’t shocked or angry about how I had reacted to suffering.  His love remained the same.  He wanted to love me no matter what shape I was in, no matter how I raged against Him.

              I could relate to what Katie had shared at the Encounter when she felt lost at sea during a hard season.  She found that Jesus was in the boat with her.  He was crying with her.  He understood her emotions and she could trust Him. I was relearning that simple truth.

              After the most painful contractions I had ever felt, my baby boy was born on Dec 4th, strong and healthy.  The following weeks were full of joy and sorrow.  Depression threatened me again as I searched for the bliss of childbirth and nursing.  I would talk to Chris about it and start crying, “It just hasn’t been what I was expecting.  Labor was hard.  Camden isn’t nursing well. The midwife is concerned about his weight gain. I am sooooo tired!”

              Chris got in the habit of talking about all the little miracles that happen before, during and after birth. 

              “Just think about the miracles today,” he would tell me, and I remembered Janelle’s testimony at the Encounter. 

              “Gratitude is the way forward through grief,” she had said. So gratitude became my habit again.  I stopped begging God to do what I wanted. I began to ask for grace to be and to do what He wanted. I asked Him what He was doing.  

After some time passed, my pain went away, my baby was nursing like a champ, and he and I were sleeping at night.  

I began to see:

The answers to my prayers. 

The fulfillment of His Promises.

The little miracles that revealed His love for me. 

              I had a healthy pregnancy at age 47.

              I gave birth at home with only 4 hours of intense labor.

              My baby was healthy and strong, with an APGAR score of 10!

I watched as God redeemed all the trauma from the last pregnancy and birth.

              Looking back on last year’s Encounter, I think that the more impactful the encounter, the more glorious the vision, the more earth-shaking the revelation; the harder the subsequent journey. 

              Why? Jesus knows what we need to become like Him. He knows what is coming next.  He wants to love us, encourage us, and get us ready for deeper places with Him.

I have found that the only way to keep my peace during the journey is to surrender to the waves of His love.  To let them carry me where He wills, knowing that the promise is sure, and the reward is better than I can imagine.

My Experiences with the Realities of Abortion

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 5 Comments

As a young teen I was asked if I supported legalized abortion, and I said no.  Then I was asked about cases when the mother had been raped.  My answer was, “Well, in that case it wasn’t her fault, so she should be allowed to get an abortion if she wants to.”  I didn’t understand what abortion really was, what it entailed, or what it meant for the baby or for the mother. 

                At age 14, I had an incredible salvation experience where Jesus came into my heart, the scales fell off my eyes, and the entire world looked different to me. I started going to a non-denominational church, reading the Bible with awe and wonder, and learning to hear God’s voice. 

                After high school I spent a year with Youth With A Mission doing their Discipleship Training School and their School of Evangelism.  I learned so much about God, the Bible, marriage, families, education, homeschooling, and abortion.  We had a teacher, Bev Kline, who ran a ministry for pregnant women in crisis.  They offered support, counseling, and a home to live in.  This incredible woman told our class her story. She had had two abortions and spent many years under incredible pain and guilt.  She found healing through Jesus and now spent her life extending that healing to others.  She tried to talk to women considering abortion, to spare them the heartache she went through.  Bev helped many women keep their babies and see them thrive in their new lives as single mothers. She helped others lovingly give their babies up for adoption.

She had found a purpose and passion in life and was filled with peace and joy.  But she never forgot the birthdays of the two children she had aborted and looked forward to meeting them in heaven someday. Bev is still loving women by running Living Alternatives.

                During that time I saw pictures of the small humans that had burns all over their tiny bodies because of saline injection abortions.  I saw pictures of tiny legs ripped from a tiny torsos by forceps during an abortion. Abortion was becoming real to me. Here are some similar images.

Here is a link with many images of babies post abortion and explanations of the different types of abortions. Please be aware these images are very disturbing.

The reality of abortion is extreme cruelty to the most vulnerable humans among us, not the “evacuation of fetal tissue.”

                We also had another teacher who started a pro-life group.  He explained how abortion was the same to God as the sacrificing of children to idols in the Bible. Some ancient cultures had this practice.  Israel had a period of leaving the LORD and worshiping the idol Molech, and/or Baal who required that children be burned in fire to appease his wrath.

“They have filled this place with the blood of the innocent. They have built high places to Baal on which to burn their children in the fire as offerings to Baal— something I never commanded or mentioned, nor did it even enter My mind. So behold, the days are coming, declares the LORD, when this place will no longer be called Topheth or the Valley of Ben-hinnom, but the Valley of Slaughter.…”

Jer 19:4-6

In America today we are too educated and sophisticated for idols made of metal or stone. Now our idols are called Selfishness, Convenience, Greed, and Fear and THOUSANDS of babies a day are being sacrificed to these idols.

This teacher also explained to us the procedure called “Partial Birth Abortion” which was legal in some states.  

“Partial-Birth Abortion (Brain Suction) – 4 to 9 months of pregnancy

Guided by ultrasound, the abortionist grabs the baby’s leg with forceps. The baby’s leg is pulled out into the birth canal. The abortionist delivers the baby’s entire body, except for the head. The abortionist jams scissors into the baby’s skull. The scissors are then opened to enlarge the hole. The scissors are removed and a suction catheter is inserted. The child’s brains are sucked out, causing the skull to collapse. The dead baby is then removed.”

Wisconsinrighttolife.org

There was no difference between this baby and the baby whose mother wanted to keep him – no different in form or biological structure, no different in value to God.  The only difference was location. The baby who was still partially in the womb could be legally murdered. These babies feel the pain of abortion at least by 20 weeks but probably much sooner.  Here is the scientific proof. https://illinoisrighttolife.org/yes-an-unborn-baby-can-feel-pain-in-an-abortion-heres-the-scientific-proof/

In the girls dorm at YWAM there were no TVs, computers, or phones. So I picked up a huge book about the origins of Planned Parenthood and read the entire thing (I think it was 400 pages long!) I learned that the founder, Margaret Sanger, despised both blacks and Christians.  She lived a very promiscuous lifestyle.  She felt that abortion was the answer to society’s woes: to set women free from traditional morals and of course those burdensome babies.  She also said that abortion would be very useful in controlling the populations of the pesky lower forms of humans, mainly the Negros.  As she began to market her idea, she used the slogan, “Every child a wanted child” and promised that a utopian society would surely follow. 

As we can all see now, Margaret Sanger was a very false prophet.

Planned Parenthood started entering the schools and providing “sex education” which was supposed to help prevent unwanted pregnancies.  Teenage pregnancies began to skyrocket, and it turned out the “sex ed” was actually creating more clients for her abortion clinics.

I knew a woman who had an abortion when she was young. It left emotional and physical scars so that later when she got married, she could not get pregnant. After much struggle and help from health care professionals, she was able to bring one miracle son into the world. She developed an abstinence based sex-ed course. She was invited into many schools.

I also learned from that book that 80% of women who had an abortion reported negative side effects, many long term.

It was becoming clear to me that abortion was devastating to the mother as well.

I have since learned that women who lose their baby before 20 weeks, whether through miscarriage or abortion, have a much higher risk of breast cancer and that risk goes up with each baby that is lost.  On the flip side, for every month a women nurses a baby, her risk for breast cancer goes down.  I have virtually no breast cancer risk after nursing my 10 babies.  What does this tell me?  God created our bodies to work a certain way and when we violate His design, there are negative consequences.

There are so many documented complications following abortion from increases in many kinds of cancer, poor general health, problems with future pregnancies, and on and on. The most concerning is the death rate in the year after abortion.

“According to the best record based study of deaths following pregnancy and abortion, a 1997 government funded study in Finland, women who abort are approximately four times more likely to die in the following year than women who carry their pregnancies to term. In addition, women who carry to term are only half as likely to die as women who were not pregnant”

afterabortion.org

What do you know?  Pregnancy is actually good for women because God’s creation is good and He loves women.  Pregnancy taken to the birth of a full term baby can actually protect a woman from DYING!

A year after YWAM, Chris and I got married and started having babies. We were learning first hand how our babies were being fearfully and wonderfully made by God who was knitting them together in my womb and bringing them through astonishing developments week by week. This was not a clump of cell. This was a miracle!

                In quick succession I had a girl and two baby boys.  My fourth pregnancy produced a beautiful baby girl, Ashlyn, who was diagnoses with a rare chromosomal disorder.  Soon we realized that she was developmentally delayed and had unexpected abnormalities in her body.  Yet she is such a vital part of our family.  Most children like her never make it out of the womb alive.  80% of Down syndrome Babies are aborted in America. In some countries it is close to 100%.

I met a friend a few years later who took a special interest in Ashlyn. She even organized a fundraiser to help get Ashlyn the special therapy she needed.  One day she told me her story.  She was close to her due date with baby number 3 when the doctors realized that her child had some sort of problem, likely chromosomal in nature.  They urged her to abort.  Abortions in the third trimester were not legal in our state, so she and her husband traveled to another state.  The abortion was preformed and she got a picture of her dead daughter.  She and her husband had since divorced.  Her older daughter was practicing self -harm.

I listened to my sweet friend and I heard a torture that I have never experienced in all the hardship of caring for a child who is physically and mentally handicapped.  I wouldn’t wish that type of pain on anyone.

In the last year I have watched the movie, “Unplanned”, story of Abby Johnson who went from Planned Parenthood’s Employee of the year to a Pro-Life advocate. Please read her book or watch her movie. It explains so much about what it is like inside the abortion industry and what it is like to have an abortion.  The turning point for Abby was when she was called in to assist with an abortion for the first time.  It was her job to hold the ultrasound probe so the doctor could see the baby in order to suction it out.

  When the suction tube came near the small baby, Abby saw it recoil and move out of the way.  It tried to find a safe place but the little body could not escape.

                “Beam me up Scotty,” said the doctor as the baby was ripped from the womb and ended up in a bloody heap in the machine.

                Just a few weeks ago I was able to attend a Kick Off Rally for our local chapter of 40 Days of Life, the Pro-Life organization that helped Abby get out of the abortion industry.  I met many precious Catholics who have been standing and praying in front of our city’s Planned Parenthood since 2006. They have pictures and stories of the babies and mothers they have saved from abortion.  I was able to tour Little Bee, a mobile ultrasound unit by Undefeated Courage.  They park in front of Planned Parenthoods in the area and offer free ultrasounds for pregnant women.  Planned Parenthood always does an ultrasound for any client wanting an abortion, but only to determine price.  The client is never allowed to see her baby moving on the screen, never allowed to notice the beating heart. 

Four out of five women who receive an ultrasound on a mobile unit decide to keep her baby.  She can plainly see that what is in her womb is a human child, HER human child.

                I also learned about Rachel’s Vineyard, a local ministry that helps women heal from abortion.  Their pamphlet reads, “One in Four Women will become a victim of abortion by the age of 45.” 

Interesting, I had never thought of it that way.  But now I understand why the woman is a victim too. She is being lied to by her culture, celebrities, media, lawmakers, educators, and her health care providers.  Most of all she is being lied to by Planned Parenthood counselors who are trained to sell a product. They only product they have to sell is abortion.  The pain, grief, guilt, and negative side effects are downplayed or never mentioned.  Her baby is referred to as “the pregnancy”, “contents of the uterus”, or “fetal tissue.” She is never told that her baby is a real human baby, a life worth living, and a life worth saving. 

She is never told that when God gives a woman a baby, it is His way of showing His favor and giving her His highest blessing. She is never told that babies are always a blessing and never a curse, that the child in her womb may become the best thing in her life.

                I love to talk about pregnancy, labor, birth, and everything to do with babies and motherhood.  It is my great passion in life!  Women sense this and seem to open up to me.  I have heard so many stories over the years!  Many times I have heard a woman say,

“I wish I would have had more children.”

“I don’t know why I didn’t have more children.” 

“I wanted more children.”

                I have never once heard a woman say,

“I have too many children.” 

“I never should have keep this child of mine.”

The Naming of Aria Iolani

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 7 Comments

It was an early Sunday morning in July.  Most of the family was still in bed.  I was on the computer Googling “names meaning eagle” and hoping no one would come down the stairs and see what I was doing.

I felt rather silly, looking up baby names.  I was 41.  I already had 9 beautiful children.  I had no reason to think that I would ever be blessed with another one.  I would say from time to time, “I think I would like to have a baby in my 40s.”  My husband would always respond, “You’re crazy.”

I felt a little crazy just then, but I felt compelled to do it.  I just had to know what names were out there that meant “eagle.”  Over the past few years God had used many amazing encounters to convince me that I was meant to be an eagle.  I was beginning to let go of who I thought I was (a quiet girl who was deathly afraid of heights) and believe who God made me to be.

I found many names that fit the bill.  However, I needed an “A” name for a girl and a “C” name for a boy to follow the pattern of all our other children.  I could find no suitable boy name, try as I might!  A girl’s name struck me as though it were jumping off the computer screen .

Aria Iolani

 Aria:

Hebrew from Ariel – lion or lioness of God

Italian – air, melody

Sanskrit and Persian – noble, honorable

Teutonic – intelligence of an eagle

Iolani (ee-oh-lahn-ee):

Hawaiian – hawk of royalty, bird of heaven, to soar like an eagle

How perfect!  How beautiful!  A dream had been planted in my heart; a tiny seed carrying the perfect name. A dream that I would one day have a daughter who would bear this name.  A daughter who would have the vision and intelligence of an eagle.  A daughter who would know her identity from the womb. She would not have to live 40 years on the ground before it began to dawn on her…she was meant to FLY!

A few months later, in December, I found that I was pregnant.  The revelation came at a time I didn’t expect.  It didn’t seem like the right time for another baby.  But …perhaps this dream in my heart had been a dream in God’s heart all along.  Perhaps now was THE TIME!

My oldest daughter, Areli, loved the girl’s name I had found!  The boys did not like it, mostly because they wanted the baby to be a boy.  Chris liked the named “Aria” but wasn’t sure about “Iolani.”  It was too hard for him to remember and pronounce correctly, and he thought it would difficult for others as well.

I checked out a bunch of books from the library about Hawaii since Areli was planning on going there for school in the next year or so.  I discovered that there is an Iolani Palace in Hawaii, the only royal palace in the United States.  That settled it.  “Iolani” was THE middle name!

I was excited but told myself that this baby could easily be a boy.  Soon sickness and other pregnancy discomforts (that I had never experienced before) came upon me.  The dream of “Aria Iolani” was still a lovely thought, but it was overpowered by the thoughts of a victim pleading for release from her prison.  I understood that all that was going on in my spirit was being experienced by my baby’s spirit as well.  I tried to be thankful and upbeat.  I tried to speak over my baby love and peace and truth.  Half the time I doubted the truth myself.  That God really loved me and that someday I would feel good again.

Many fears started to plague my mind.  What if there was something wrong with this baby?  What if there was something wrong with my body?  And the worst fear of all, what if this child had a chromosomal abnormality like Ashlyn had?  I love Ashlyn and I am still amazed that God would trust us with such a special child.  Still, I always thought that having two special children would be absolutely too much to handle, and I would break under the strain of it.  With each pregnancy there has been a small chance, and each time this fear rears its ugly head.  This pregnancy the fear was worse than usual, almost suffocating me at times.

I didn’t go to church for two months.  Finally I was feeling well enough to go to a Sunday morning service.  As I entered the balcony of the sanctuary, I heard the Helsers leading worship.  I felt the sweet presence of God, and I longed to linger there forever!  They were singing, “Mt. Zion.”

We have come to Mount Zion

City of the living God

Heavenly Jerusalem

By his blood we have come

I felt God’s presence.  I felt peace and joy.  I felt safety and security.  The fears dissipated.  Hope started rising.  This is where I should have been living this whole time.  This is where I wanted my baby to live, even in the womb.  I felt sad that I had been such a bad mother so far.  I had tried to abide in the presence of God in my own home.  But most of the time I just felt sick and discouraged.

Here at church I could feel His presence, as though Mount Zion was a reality I was dwelling in. The song continued:

Thousands of angels dance around his throne

Thousands more sing out new songs

And elders throw their crowns down

As all of heaven sings out

 

“Baby, this is where you are to live all the time,” I told the precious little one.

                “I know, mama.”

I heard a sweet little girl’s voice say these words.  At least I thought it sounded like a girl. I knew it was my baby.  This was very unexpected and unusual.  It wasn’t said in a sassy voice as if to imply that I was being dumb for thinking my baby didn’t already know this.

It was said in a comforting voice as if to say, “Mama, you worry too much.  I am just fine.  I just recently came to you from heaven.  I could see those angels in person, and I can see them still.  I am still surrounded by His presence.”

I felt more at peace than I had in a long time.  My baby was more aware of spiritual realities than I was.  She was most definitely an amazing child.  I began to remember all the fears I had confronted during previous pregnancies.  One by one those fears had fallen by the wayside, replace by peace.  Almost across board just the opposite had proven to be true.

I didn’t need to worry about this baby’s health, well-being, or intelligence.  She (or possibly he, I had to remind myself) was extraordinary…a super baby!  She (or he) had just spoken to me from the womb for goodness sake!

DSC_0413 (2)DSC_0417 (2)

On March 30th we had an ultrasound that revealed a perfect and beautiful baby girl!  My dream was growing inside me.

Aria Iolani

About four weeks before my due date, Aria dropped.  She was sitting low and I was uncomfortable.

“At least she is head down and in the right position.  She is getting ready to be born, and it won’t be long now,” I thought.

Each week she dropped a little lower.  Each week I was more uncomfortable.  I kept having signs that labor was near, but no real labor would come.  The last week, each day felt exponentially worse than the day before.  My due date, August 16th came and went, and Aria became my first baby that was actually late.

Finally my water broke the night of August 17th.  The next day labor still had not started, but my homebirth midwife came over to check on me.  I was already dilated to 5 cm and Aria was at +3 station.  The midwife said that babies normally are not that low unless the mom was already in labor.  We both thought that once labor started, Aria would be born quickly.  We were wrong.

Labor finally began around 3pm on August 18th but it progressed very slowly.  I was listening to worship music, scriptures, and birth affirmations.  I was enjoying God’s presence.  He was speaking to me and showing me visions of Himself.   Before I knew it, it was evening.  I didn’t feel like I was in transition even though I was dilated to 10.

Then it got difficult.  I never really had a difficult labor, so it was a new experience.  Aria was so close to being born, yet she wasn’t being born!  I am sure it was difficult for her too, but her heart-rate remained steady.  Finally after an ambulance ride, an epidural, Pitocin, and some sleep; Aria supernaturally came into the outside world at 2:33 am on August 19, 2018.  I felt no pain and consciously did nothing at all.

I simply slept and prayed, “Jesus, you do this because I can’t.”

I woke up to the slightest bit of pressure.  My midwife looked under my covers to see that Aria’s head was crowning!

She was born quickly and placed in my arms.  The rest of the room faded away.  There was only my baby.

Aria Iolani

She was beautiful and peaceful.  I noticed her eyes first.  They were open wide and moving slowly back and forth, scanning and taking it all in.  To me they looked like the eyes of an eagle.

DSC_0197 (4)

She is now six weeks old.  Aria had not been as sleepy as my other newborns.  She is more alert and her eyes are always looking.

DSC_0294 (3)DSC_0260 (5)

The midwife saw her at three weeks and said, “She seems more like a 6 week old that a 3 week old.”  At 3 ½ weeks she began to really look at our faces and smile! The most adorable smile.

Not all is prefect of course.  My recovery had been much slower this time.  Aria finds it hard to just fall asleep, and she spends a good amount of time crying when she is tired.  She also had the worst case of thrush I have ever seen.  Then came the baby acne.

But when I nurse her and look at her baby face, I am so thankful for the chance to have her as a daughter, my 10th child.

DSC_0086 - Copy

What a rare and precious jewel.  When I prayed for her during my difficult pregnancy, God showed me so clearly that Aria is vitally important – to this family, to this world, and to eternity.  She was not an extra baby or an optional baby.  She NEEDED to be here.  Just like every single baby ever to be conceived.

Of course to me Aria is amazing!  Brilliant, observant, and born to fly.

DSC_0133

Aria Iolani

A dream come true.

Discouraged Much? Me Too!

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 4 Comments

I was looking forward to 2018 with great expectations.  This is what I wrote in my journal about the coming year.

The Best is Yet to Come

Best Year Yet

Open Doors

God Encounters

Becoming Eagles

When the New Year arrived, it came in a way that I didn’t expect.  During January and February I became very discouraged. Three major sorrows had come upon me.

Sorrow #1 – I felt sicker than I ever had in my life

I discovered that I was carrying a new child of destiny in my womb. It was a dream come true, and I was elated!  I felt wonderful with my last pregnancy, so I thought this one would be even better.  Wrong!  I had never felt so weird and nauseous before.  I had never thrown up so much before!  I have never had hot flashes and cold chills before.

When I believed that 2018 would be the year that I would become an eagle, I imagined writing more.  So many beautiful God stories were in my heart, crying out to be crafted into words.  Maybe I would even put together a manuscript and work on a book!  For Christmas my husband and children surprised me with a new laptop…OF MY VERY OWN!  I was so surprised and excited!

I also thought I would be able to be more involved at church.  Oh, all the beautiful times of prayer and worship and God encounters that awaited me!

Yet January and February found me sitting on the sofa or sleeping in my bed with a weak body and a fuzzy brain.  It was hard to think about anything except how to avoid throwing up again. I tried to write, but I couldn’t.  Sitting at the computer even for a few minutes made me feel even sicker!  (It still does so this article was a bit of a struggle to produce.)  I didn’t go to church at all.

Sorrow #2 – Finances

God was going do wonderful things in our finances this year.  I was sure of it!  Early in the New Year Chris got promoted to full-time at UPS.  This was amazing, happening more quickly than usual.  However, it didn’t play out so well in real life.  First of all, peak was over, so his hours went from 70 hrs to 50-55 hrs a week.  That is normal, just life at UPS.  However, because of a rule that says all full-time employees have to be paid for at least 8 hours each day they are called in to work, Chris lost the opportunity to pick up 4 hours of air-rate overtime on Saturdays.  This had a significant impact on each paycheck.  In addition, full-time employees have to pay more union dues.  We had less instead of more, and it was feeling like a struggle again.

Sorrow #3 – Lack of Healing

It has been difficult for me to believe in miraculous healing.  I do believe theoretically, but I just haven’t had much experience in my own life.  This year I felt faith arising!  Perhaps this was the time that I would see healing with my own eyes!  We were planning a double foot surgery for Ashlyn, but what if God would heal her first?

I took Ashlyn to a healing room.  It was lovely, and the people were beautiful, and I felt the goodness of God.  Prayers were prayed, but nothing happened with Ashlyn that I could see.

They also prayed for me for two specific health problems.  The following week those two issues became significantly worse. Talk about being discouraged!

One of those issues was varicose veins.  I had bad veins in my right leg since my 4th pregnancy which was 14 years ago.  14 years of no shorts, no dresses.  14 years of feeling rather ugly and old.  Last June I had the worst vein removed and the faulty vein repaired.  It took three days of surgery with local anesthesia.  It required one incision and 58 small holes.  The recovery was more painful than I had expected, and I wondered if it was really worth it.

It was supposed to heal and leave me with a normal looking leg.  Yet I had to attend my daughter’s High School Graduation in baggy, frumpy pants to accommodate the bandages.  I developed a dream in my heart that encouraged me greatly.  My son’s graduation would be next June.  I would attend that important event in a pretty summer dress!

In this New Year, I was so excited to be pregnant without those horrible veins!  No pain, no awful compression stockings!  As this pregnancy progressed, I noticed pain in my leg again.  It was awhile before I realized that it was new veins popping out on the back of my leg.  The leg that still bore 59 little scars.  Slowly the veins traveled down my entire leg.  After receiving prayer, they began to hurt so much that I had to wear a compression stocking.

My beautiful dream had officially died a pathetic and mournful death!

The Sorrows are so small

Now that I am in my second trimester, I can look at my life and see a hundred joys outnumbering those three little sorrows.  I can give thanks for a thousand different blessings each day!!!

Still, I feel discouraged.  If only things were a little different in certain areas.  If only I didn’t feel my faith slipping away.

One Sunday morning during worship I gave my discouragement to God.  Still I wished for my sorrows to be gone.  Then God helped me to realize.

There is something Deeper (than my reality).

There is something more Real (than my circumstances).

There is something more Important (than my discouragement).

Like this baby growing healthy and strong.  Like the delight that God has when He looks at me.  Like the fact that this suffering is nothing compared to the glory that will be revealed in me, the glory that will be revealed in my daughter.  Like my character being formed into the character of Christ.

Like Becoming An Eagle!

I had asked God to transform me into an eagle this year.  To help me to worship Him until the wind of His presence surrounded me.  To help me to stretch out my wings in faith.  To teach me to fly.  To teach me to see EVERYTHING from His higher perspective.

He has been answering my prayer this whole time.  No one ever learns to do something new without practice.  All these sorrows are training me to rise above and SEE!

“Your eyes will see the King in his beauty, and the highlands of heaven far away.” Is 33:17 Living Bible

This has been His promise to me.  I have asked Him to help me live in it.  I have asked for a difficult thing…

But it is worth it!

 

P.S. Just a note to all of my followers.  I am so delighted that you enjoy my writing! I probably will not be posting much until August or September when I hope that I will be reconciled to my laptop.  Praying you will bask in all the joys!

P.P.S. Ashlyn’s surgery well very well!  She has been recovering beautifully and I am so thankful.

The Heartbreak and Joy of a C-section

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 6 Comments

As a young girl, I read that one out of every ten babies in the United States was born by C-section.  I remember thinking, “If I have ten children, I will probably have a C-section in my lifetime.”  But who really has ten children anyway?  So I dismissed it as a very unlikely possibility.  Despite the fact that cesareans have become more and more common (one out of every three births), I estimated that my chances were dropping.  I was healthy and strong, educated in natural childbirth.  I had beautiful, easy deliveries…eight of them!  Although theoretically, I knew that anything can happen in this life, and I was not exempt from the risks of childbearing, I never thought it would happen to me.

I was so excited to be pregnant with my ninth child.  I became even more excited when I found out that it was a girl!  I had longed for a girl for so long, that I had almost given up.  I felt the overwhelming joy of a dream come true.  Yet along with it came a suffocating fear.

I had never before worried about the life of any my unborn babies.  I just loved them, prepared a room for them, and anticipated a future for them.  Yet this time I began to wonder if my preparations were in vain.  What if I never got to hold my baby girl in my arms?  What if I never got to dress her in all the pretty clothes?  What if the sweetness and the tenderness of who she was, left my life forever?

I didn’t speak of these thoughts.  If I uttered them out loud, they might become more real.  Finally one night I tried to explain it to my husband, and I began to cry.  Why was I crying?  The baby was healthy and moving around in my belly.  This had been my easiest pregnancy yet.  There was no reason to worry.

“I think you have fear with this baby because she is so connected to the promises of God,” Chris said.  At that instant I realized that it was true.  We had already named her Annalise Promise which means “Oath of God” and “Graced with God’s Bounty.”  Her name was a sign to us that we would be entering a season of promises fulfilled, promises for abundance.  We had always prayed for that season. We had been looking for it ever since we had gotten married, straining our eyes across the horizon for any sign that the prosperity might be on its way.  We felt deep in our bones that God meant for us to have more than enough of everything we needed, everything our children needed.  Yet we hadn’t been able to live in that prosperity, cycling between the highs of great opportunities and the lows of dashed dreams.

Now we were having a girl whose very name meant the Boundless Generosity of God, and I was terrified that I would never be able to keep her or God’s Goodness, that both would slip through my fingers no matter how hard I tried to grasp them.

Of course I realized that God does not work that way.  This fear was not from Him, yet He would take it from me, I was sure.  I laid my fear at His feet and He gave me hope and joy and promises!  He had me read Zephanaiah 3:14-20 over and over again.  I could almost hear Him rejoicing over me with happy songs.  I could feel Him hold me in his strong arms.  I could sit back and watch him fight for me and gain the victory!  I did not have to fear disaster! He was holding my little girl in His hands and she was safe!

My other babies were always head down in my womb, settling into a familiar position that I knew so well.  But this little girl would not do that no matter how much we talked to her, coaxed her, and prayed for her.  She would flip and turn and end up in all sorts of positions.

I was becoming quite nervous about her position as I headed into week 37.  Our whole family had been hoping for an Easter baby which was only days away, yet Annalise was still not head down.  I would lay in bed at night, tired yet unable to sleep.  My belly was so big, I found it hard to breath.  I could feel her do flips inside of me.

“I think we need to get another ultrasound to check on your placenta.  If it is too low, that may be why the baby is not able to descend.” Mary, my midwife said as I was getting close to 38 weeks.

I had no intention of getting another ultrasound, but the night before Chris had expressed concern about the same issue.  I felt peaceful that Annalise was safe and sound in God’s hands, but for Chris’ peace of mind, I agreed to go in and get checked.  I prayed that if all was well, I would go into labor before the ultrasound.  A peaceful homebirth was my heart’s desire.  I would rehearse the wonder and beauty of it in my mind to cheer my weary bones.  Yet I also prayed, “Don’t let me give birth at home if you want me in the hospital.”

Labor did not come and I found myself lying on a table in a darkened room.  It only took the ultrasound tech a few minutes to see that placenta was covering the cervix.

“I am so sorry!” Mary said, “I know how much you wanted a home birth, but we just can’t deliver you at home.  If the placenta is born first, your baby could die.  You will need to choose a hospital and I suggest you go in tomorrow.  It would be better to get a C-section as soon as possible so you don’t go into labor.”

I was in shock.  I couldn’t believe what was happening.  Yet, I knew that it was what God wanted.  Otherwise He could have easily moved that placenta and brought labor on the week before.  When I returned home from the ultrasound, all I could manage to do was cry.  Most of my other eight children were around the house playing or doing homework after school.  My oldest daughter hugged me and said, “It will be ok, Mama.”

I tried to believe her.  I cried and grieved the loss of my perfect homebirth. I had wanted to be close to my other children.  I had wanted a fast and easy recovery that would allow me to continue taking care of the needs of the home and homeschooling.  I tried to wrap my brain around the fact that I had offered my body to God as a living sacrifice, to carry this child of promise, and He was going allow doctors to cut into me tomorrow.

The next day Chris and I began the work of getting ready to go to the hospital. As soon as Chris’ mom had heard about the situation, she had started driving to Pennsylvania from Florida.  She would be able to get to our house by the evening to take care of the other children.  How that eased my mind!

I sent a prayer request to all the ladies who had been to my baby shower a few weeks earlier.  I also called my mom to explain the situation.  She had been hoping to be at the birth, but I told her that I had to get surgery and she probably wouldn’t be able to see the baby until hours afterward.  Mom happened to be at the ladies meeting at church.  She stopped the meeting right then and there and asked for prayer for me!

A lovely thing began to happen.  As I was trying to get ready, rushing around the house, up the stairs and down the stairs again, I started to receive emails and texts and calls from loving friends.  They were praying for me and speaking encouraging words and offering help!  One dear friend even prayed out loud for Annalise while I turned on the speaker phone so Annalise listen.

I was feeling an overwhelming sadness about having to endure a C-section, but I didn’t want Annalise to feel sad.  I didn’t want her to feel like she was being torn from her safe haven too early or experience anguish on the day of her birth.  The prayer I heard coming from the other end of my phone brought peace to my body and soul.

“Annalise will be so peaceful.  It will be a sign to you.”  I heard my friend pray.

Chris and I arrived at the hospital in the early afternoon.  Mary was already there.  It took hours for the staff to assess me and determine that the placenta was not actually covering the cervix but was dangerously close, only .9 cm away.  Studies had shown that 90% of women with a marginal placenta like mine bled during labor and required an emergency C-section to save the life of the baby.  Thankfully, I had not yet gone into labor and we could have a planned C-section.

It took several more hours to prep me for the C-section. During this time I felt oddly peaceful.  God was in control and it was going to be ok. Finally at 8pm I was taken into the operating room where the anesthesiologist started the spinal.

“No pain.  You will feel no pain, only pressure.  No pain,” he kept saying over and over again.

I must admit that I didn’t believe him.  How could I feel no pain at all during such a major surgery?  Yet almost immediately, I started to lose feeling in my lower body.  I started feeling woozy. My body felt so heavy.  I was so tired, that I could hardly respond to the questions the nurses would ask from time to time.  Before I knew it, Chris was next to me.

I heard the voice of a doctor instruct the intern on how to begin.  I had never seen the doctor’s face.  The intern had introduced himself and explained the entire procedure beforehand.  He said he had done at least 50 to 60 C-sections in the past. He was friendly and I liked him a lot. The doctor, however, was gruff and rude to this nice intern, acting like the intern had never done a C-section before.

“NO, not like that! Not like that! Here, let me do it!”  I heard from the other side of the blue curtain.  I really experienced no pain at all!  It was amazing to me.  It almost felt like this procedure was happening to someone else.  Even the abrasive voice of the doctor and the extreme pressure on my pelvic bone couldn’t bring me out of my medicated haze.  But more than that, I felt the peace that surpasses understanding.  I knew that God had every detail of this birth planned out for the best.

“She is almost here.” I heard Chris say with joy and excitement.  I just couldn’t muster up excitement myself.  I felt pushing and then a weight was lifted.  I was lighter!

“She is here!” Chris said.  Quickly the little bundle was taken to a table just a few yards behind me.  I couldn’t see her, but I could hear her.  She was crying for all she was worth!  A good sound.  I wanted to call out to her.  I wanted her to know that I was close by, that I was so excited that she was here, but I didn’t have the energy.  Someone brought her to me and placed her on my chest.  She was little and perfect.  I was too numb to hold her, so she was whisked away again, this time out of the operating room.  Chris went with her and suddenly I was alone…so alone.

I was lying on the operation table in the middle of the large room.  I was vaguely aware of nurses and doctors working to stitch me up.  They were talking among themselves, but not acknowledging me.  I knew that the bright lights were highlighting my nakedness and my gaping wound.

“My baby is here!  She has been born!”  I thought to myself. “Yet how could this really be considered her birth?  I didn’t give birth.  Is today really her birthday?  I didn’t push her out.  The doctors pulled her out.  It didn’t feel like a birth.”

As these thoughts floated around in my clouded mind, sadness descended.   Instead of feeling the overwhelming relief and bliss that enveloped me after the birth of my other eight children, I felt a stark and cold loneliness.  I wouldn’t allow the weeping to begin.  I knew it would overwhelm my consciousness.  I didn’t want to meet Annalise in the recovery room with tears.

Soon I was being wheeled to where my baby was.  She was placed into my arms and I got my first really good look at her.  Her face was tiny and beautiful, and she was looking up at me with open eyes.  So serene.  So peaceful.

IMG_4047

She was a sign to me that everything was going to be ok.  I would heal.  The sadness would fade.  I had suffered loss, but it hadn’t been the disaster I had most feared.  My little girl was safe.  Safe too were all of God’s promises.  Our finances were still in an unstable place.  But I was certain that we would see His goodness.  I was sure that Annalise would live a life marked by God’s generosity.

DSCF8695

The bliss didn’t rush in and seep into every cell as I had hoped.  It crept in slowly.

DSCF8720

 

It increased slightly with every look into her eyes, every touch of her soft skin, every time she nursed.

DSCF8702

 

My heart was full of sorrow and joy, but the joy would overtake and overwhelm, one miracle moment at a time.

 

They are Lifting Their Brave Little Heads

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 2 Comments

snow on crocus

It is still winter in Central Pennsylvania despite the fact that it becomes spring today.  Spring seems to be talking much too long to catch up with the calendar.  Breakthroughs in our business and personal lives seem to be taking much too long to break through.  This baby seems to be taking much too long to grow.  It is true that I am not even to my due date yet, being 35 weeks.  Yet my body keeps complaining that surely it must time, that it cannot continue under this heavy load any longer.

A week ago I started having signs of preterm labor.  This has never happened in any of my previous eight pregnancies.  It was weird and unexpected and unsettling.  I would have loved to give birth and be done with pregnancy.  I would have loved to hold my little girl in my arms!  Yet, it just wasn’t time yet.  She wasn’t ready yet, and who knows what problems could have popped up.  I would have to forfeit my cozy homebirth for a hospital birth where every little bit of the process is monitored.  My tired and sore body feels like it cannot go on…yet it can and it must.  Just a few more weeks!
Thankfully the contractions went away and peace has settled again.  What’s a few more weeks?  It is a privilege and an honor to provide a safe place for my baby to grow until the fullness of time.  I would continue past my due date if I had to (though I sincerely wish I do NOT have to!)

robin

My daughter took some lovely pictures that caused me to take heart again and see the beauty of the here and now.

robin 2

 

This brave little robin and these courageous young crocuses have lifted their heads despite the adversity to become harbingers of a new season.

snow on crocus 2

They proclaim that nothing can hold back the sunshine and warmer temperatures!  No woman is pregnant forever!  Every promise has it’s time of fulfillment!  And it will be the perfect time and well worth the wait.

 

Christmas and the Seasons of My Life

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 3 Comments

november-december 249

I love the Christmas season.  I am sorry to see it end so quickly.  As I enjoyed the sights and sounds and smells of this glorious time, I remembered all of the Christmases that I have known.

As a child, the magic of Christmas emerged from the basement and took residence in our home once again, as we hung our stockings, trimmed our tree and set up the manger scene.  I would study the solemn cast of characters in the small wooden stable all covered with moss.  I would lie under our artificial tree, looking up through the branches at the multicolored lights and soak in the wonder of it all.  We would attend our Quaker Meeting’s yearly tradition; a potluck dinner (with an entire room full of desserts) followed by a carol sing and candlelight service.

november-december 585

I would sit on a bench in that meeting room surrounded by the scent of evergreen branches and the flickering, golden light.  I would listen to the members of the congregation read the Christmas story from the Bible.  The words sounded so beautiful and sacred to me.

I remember the Christmases of my teenage years.  I had a small group of friends who were all very talented singers.  I could sing a melody clear and true.  My friends could harmonize any song in the most beautiful way.  We began a tradition of gathering at my house and then venturing out into the cold to sing carols to my neighbors.  The most beautiful music I have ever heard was made by our voices lifted into the frosty night air.  I felt so blessed to be a part of that wonderful sound of praise.  I have not been able to make such beautiful melodies matched with such lovely harmonies since that season, and I miss it, especially at Christmas.  I console myself with the thought that someday heaven will be filled with music like that all the time!

I think back to our very first Christmas as a married couple.  We were excited to have some family and friends over to our very first place for Christmas dinner.  It was only a tiny apartment with no real furniture, but it was ours.  We got a little tree and decorated it with the set of tiny, wooden ornaments that my grandmother had given us…our only ornaments!

christmas thingys 001

Those precious little things have since gone into hiding, being choking hazards and not suitable for a house perpetually inhabited by at least one baby and one toddler.  But that Christmas, there were no babies yet.  I wanted to make some dessert for our dinner, yet I hadn’t planned ahead.  I had only flour, sugar, and some Hershey Kisses.  I made a trip to the closest gas station (the only place open on Christmas morning) and made some short bread.  That evening, everyone piled into our small kitchen to eat around card tables, and it seemed a very joyous occasion.

I remember Christmases with little ones.  It was hard to keep the ornaments on the tree, and the wrapping paper was much more appreciated than the gifts themselves.  I remember the 7 Christmases that I was pregnant.  I wasn’t feeling very good during most of those, and didn’t care if we even put up a tree.  But I still enjoyed the joy and excitement in those little faces.

One of our children was conceived over the Christmas holiday.  What a precious gift!  The baby was a boy, and all our boys have names that begin with the letter “C.”  Chris and I joked that we should name him, Colorado Christmas Conception.  We decided to go with Chai Erik instead!

This year was a lovely Christmas.  I was pregnant but feeling very good!

november-december 148

 

We had our 8th annual Christmas party with a house full of friends and caroling around the neighbor hood.

Chai demonstrating the joy of caroling!

Chai demonstrating the joy of caroling!

We attended the candlelight service at our church and felt that holiness again.  On Christmas morning our house was full of two parents, one grandmother, teenagers, preteens, children, and a toddler.

november-december 441

november-december 353

We had a little of everything from toys to video games,

november-december 502

november-december 573

from big helpers to little messer-uppers.

november-december 451

  A glorious chaos of noise and joy,

november-december 385

frustration and love!

november-december 401

I wanted to soak in every detail of the present Christmas, as I knew it would never come around again.

november-december 389

The teenagers will be thinking about college.  The preteens will become teens.  The younger ones will grow into more mature ones.

november-december 485

We will get older and wiser and never be quite the same people we are right now.  Only God knows what each new Christmas will bring.  My vision of Christmas future is a huge dining room table surrounded by my children, their spouses, and their children; my grandchildren!  There could end up being quite a lot of them…perhaps 10, 20, 30, or more!

Looking back over all the Christmas seasons of my life there is a common thread.  Always there is Jesus, lying in the manger; whether he is small or large,

christmas thingys 020

made from wood or ceramic,

christmas thingys 029

set up high on a self or cradled in the arms of a child.

christmas thingys 038

Jesus is always there.  Yet the baby Jesus is just a symbol…a symbol of God’s amazing, crazy, unfathomable love!

christmas thingys 017

Jesus is a baby so longer.  He grew and became a man.  He pleased his Father in every way.  He was obedient in everything, even obedient to die on a cross.  He was revealed as the Lamb that was slain before the foundations of the world.  He decided to die for us before any of us were even here.  He set us free to enjoy all the wonderment and joy that the human heart can possess!

Yet looking back, I also see him as a Lion.  The Lion of the Tribe of Judah, always at my side, whether I knew He was there or not.  A strong and ferocious kind of God; violent in dealing with my enemies and fears and doubts, unrelenting in His jealousy for me, bold and courageous in the ways He loves me, yet soft and gentle when He draws me near.  That Lion was always with me; during the innocent years of childlike faith when I would talk to Him every night before falling asleep.  During the cynical early teenage years when I sat in that candlelight service and thought how foolish someone must be to believe that a baby born in Bethlehem was actually God.  During my last years in High School, discovering the wonder of a real God who loved me just as I was.  During my young married years when I didn’t know very much about anything.  During all of the pregnancies and births and babies and toddlers and growing and learning and sorrows and joys.  Jesus was there!

The Great I AM limited Himself to the smallness and helplessness of a baby just so He could always and forever BE WITH US!  May we never get over the miracle of Christmas; that the Lion and the Lamb, the Almighty God IS WITH US!  And we can spend eternity exploring the height and depth and breadth of His great love for us.

Merry Christmas!!!

God Needs Me?

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 3 Comments

“He can do all things without us, but He had chosen to do them through us.” – The Call by Rick Joyner

I was pregnant with baby number eight.  It had been three years since my last pregnancy, and I felt the strongest, the healthiest, the most alive I had ever felt!  That was…until the morning sickness settled in.  It was actually “all day but much worse in the evening sickness”.  I had not felt horribly nauseous during my previous pregnancies, more like continuous car sickness.  How I had wished I could stop the invisible car and just get out!  I was optimistic that this pregnancy would be the exception, that I could say with a smile on my face and a twinkle in my eye, “I love being pregnant!”

Just the opposite had happened.  I had never felt so bad!  My days consisted of sitting on the sofa with my eyes closed, trying to feel better.  My children ran around unattended.  Home school, which we should have started a month ago, remained untouched.  My older children did all the chores around the house and kept it running, though not as orderly or smoothly as I would have.  My precious firstborn girl, Areli, carried an enormous burden.  She heard my pitiful pleas all day long.

“Areli, could you make me some eggs?”

“Areli, could you fill up my water glass?”

“Areli, could you see who is crying upstairs, please?”

I tried to be a good mom; but mostly I whined, moaned, slept, felt sick, got sick, and slept some more.  I felt useless and wretched.  I knew theoretically that despite the weakened state of my body, my spirit could still soar high above my circumstances, like an eagle above the clouds.  Yet, after days, weeks, and months of feeling crummy, my eagle had forgotten how to fly.  My mind kept thinking about scriptures such as

“For our present troubles are small and won’t last very long. Yet they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them and will last forever!” 2 Cor 4:17

I knew that it was true, but it didn’t help me feel any better.

I thought about my joy in a newborn baby and how it was all worth it.

But it didn’t make me feel any better.

I reread every “Above Rubies” magazines I had ever received to encourage myself.

My mind was encouraged but my flesh still felt miserable!

My body felt like it was not capable to getting up off the sofa and doing anything productive or enjoyable, yet my mind continued to churn, swirling in descending circles.

“I just want to die.  I can’t live like this.  Why do I have to suffer?  Why does God allow me to feel so horrible?”

Pregnancy is such a miracle, a blessing, a gift!  So why did I feel so bad?  My suffering was nothing compared to other women I knew, who kept almost nothing down for nine months, yet my suffering felt like too much for me to bear.

The question I kept asking was, “Is this worth it?” and I knew that it was.  A new life is always worth it.  After a mother is holding that precious bundle, her sorrow is turned into joy.

Then the question became, “How much is a human life worth?  How much pain and sorrow is one life worth?  How much would I suffer for one human life?  Would I get pregnant and do this all again for one more human life?  How much is a life worth to God?  How much suffering did Jesus endure?”

The only conclusion I could come to was this; one human life is worth IT ALL!  There is no limit to the value God puts on a life, no price too high to pay, no suffering too severe.  Jesus suffered more than any of us.  He went through betrayal, slander, hatred, lies, scourging, mocking, and the cruelest execution ever conceived.  He felt the wretched, incurable sickness of the evil of the entire world. And he bore the effects of that twisted iniquity; separation with all that is good and beautiful and holy, his Father.

He said that his suffering was worth it because of the joy set before him. (Hebrews 12:2) That joy was human life, redeemed and set free.  He said that I am worth it.  He said that you are worth it.  He said that the child in my womb was worth it.  If Jesus was willing to suffer for my child, shouldn’t I?  After the suffering of His soul, he saw the light of life (my life, your life, my child’s life) and he was satisfied. (Isaiah 53:11)

I knew that my suffering wasn’t in vain, but I still didn’t feel any better.

“God, give me a vision of this child!  Something to keep me going,” I prayed.

In my mind’s eye I saw beams of life coming from this child and shooting out to the far reaches of the earth.  This child would be a blessing to me and my family, yes.  But he would also have an impact on the entire world!  How?  I have no idea!  But if I could have some small part in sending life to the whole of mankind, sign me up!

Then I heard God’s loving voice.

“Thank you for being available.  Without you, I couldn’t bring this child of destiny into the world.”

Then I felt the peace that only God’s voice can bring.  I felt His gratitude sink deep into my soul until I was saturated by the unbelievable goodness of it. God needs me?  The all powerful God NEEDS ME to be available?  What if I had said that seven children were quite enough, and that there were too many children in the world already?  THIS particular child, with unique DNA from his father and from me that could never be duplicated, would have never existed!  His very individual purpose and destiny would have never been manifested.  His precious personality, which was a dream in God’s heart since before the world began (Ephesians 1:4), would have never been realized.  And now he exists…because of me!  I cannot think of anything more powerful.  I cannot think of any higher honor for God to give me, than helping Him to create something of inestimable value and eternal impact.

I never could say during that pregnancy that I enjoyed being pregnant.  But I could say that pregnancy was when I relied on God the most and sensed His presence the closest and felt His glory the heaviest.  And the moment that precious Babe was born…I could say…

courage 5

courage feet

HE WAS TOTALLY WORTH IT!