Faith and Hope

This is an email that I composed for a friend of mine. It is deeply personal, and talks about a few things that I've never dreamed of sharing with so many. However, when I went to press the send button, I clearly felt like there might be someone else as well, who would find comfort in the things I chose to share with my beautiful friend. I'm hesitant to share such personal things. Honestly, I don't know how long I will keep it posted on the blog... but I hope whomever was meant to read it finds it helpful.

To my sweet friend,

The last time I saw you, we were sitting together on a little wooden bench in the Nursery, watching our little ones play. You asked me how old I was, and if that influenced my decision to have another baby. You confided in me that you were struggling to know if your family was "complete." I have thought back on that moment many times in the months since, and wished that I would have been able to express myself better. I wished that the setting would have been more conducive to me telling you about the journey I had been on that lead me to the desire to be pregnant again. I hope that I can express some of those feelings to you through this letter. It's long, and it's personal... but it is something that I have regretted not having the chance to share with you.

All of my babies have been meticulously planned for (right down to the month that I wanted their birthdays to be... I know, I'm a bit of a control freak).  My first 4 babies came very easy, and I got pregnant with baby 5 right on schedule as well-- but at 13 weeks I miscarried. I know a lot of people who have miscarriages pick them selves up and dust themselves off without much trouble. I was not one of those people. It broke my heart. It broke my children's heart. It took a lot of courage for me to decide to try for a baby again. But I knew I wanted another baby... so I was excited about 4 months later when I found myself expecting again. I had always LOVED being pregnant. But when I had the miscarriage, it stole some of that care-free bliss away from me. This time I went into the pregnancy with an extremely guarded heart. It was a coping mechanism I suppose. It didn't seem to make it any easier when I went in for my 12 week ultrasound and they couldn't find a heart beat.  To make matters worse, they discovered I had had a Molar pregnancy, which is when a cancer cell takes over the pregnancy. So, in one single instance, I learned that I was no longer pregnant-- and now had a mild form of cancer that I would need to have removed immediately.  I was not allowed to try for another baby for an entire year while they monitored me. That year was very difficult. I remember longing for a baby.  I knew that once the year was up, even though my chances of having another Molar pregnancy were 10 times greater than before-- I wanted another baby. Honestly, I NEEDED a baby to heal my wounded spirit. It didn't take long for me to get pregnant again. I remember at my first ultrasound how relieved I was to see a baby kicking around in there. The entire pregnancy, I worried. When Creed was finally born (my easiest labor and delivery by far) I cried tears of relief.  I finally had  my little miracle baby, and he was safe and healthy! However, about 4 hours after he was born, I had some complications that resulted in me nearly bleeding to death.  Later, the doctor told me that it was a miracle that he was in the hospital at the exact right moment to save me or I would have died.

So, with the history of the miscarriages, the molar pregnancy, and the near death experience/painful 6 month recovery after Creed-- I was completely content with the idea of my family being complete. I was utterly surprised when I started feeling the little spiritual nudges that were telling me that there was another baby meant for our family. At first, I ignored it-- in fact, I tried to ignore it for over a year. It got to the point that it became an all consuming issue. I worried about big things, like my age and pregnancy complications, and protecting my children's hearts...and dying.  I worried about little things, like the fact that we wont have a matching dining chair or the same matching picture frame for the new baby.  After so much fasting and prayer, I realized that the truth was, I was scared.  It wasn't a matter of my will vs. Heavenly Father's plan for me. It definitely wasn't that I didn't want a precious baby. I love being pregnant, I love having children, I wanted another sweet baby... but I was scared. I realized that I was allowing fear to guide my decision instead of faith.

I wasn't surprised when I was pregnant a mere 3 weeks later, because I knew that I should have let this baby come a long time before I finally did. I was so thrilled, and absolutely in love with this determined little spirit from the very first instant. My deep love and desire for this baby from the get-go was terrifying because I knew how quickly things could go wrong. Before every appointment, I mentally prepared myself for the "bad news".  It was stressful. I remember one night Ryan reminding me of my resolve to be guided by faith. I told him that I was very secure in the faith that I had-- not necessarily that things would go the way that I wanted-- but in the fact that I KNEW that whatever happened was what Heavenly Father wanted to have happen. I trusted in Him and His plan... even if it included a crappy ending. I actually rolled over that night giving myself a figurative pat on the back for knowing that I honestly would be okay no matter what the outcome. What happened next, as I lay there in bed, was perhaps the most clear spiritual experience I've ever had. The spirit clearly said to me (as I thought, "my faith is good..."), "Yes, but you are forgetting HOPE." I was dumbfounded. I had never even pondered on the principle of hope... ever... in my whole life. The Spirit then went on to teach me a sermon about the importance of hope. It goes hand in hand with faith, but it is not the same as faith. I realized that Heavenly Father does not want me to spend this pregnancy expecting the worst... he wants me to hope for the wonderful outcome that I so strongly desire. In that moment, and the days since, I have really tried to cultivate hope. I still worry-- I wish I didn't. However, I can truly say that, because of hope, I have allowed myself to love this baby completely and wholeheartedly. I know this baby-- it's spirit is familiar. I have enjoyed this pregnancy so much more than I was allowing myself to. Because of the decision to nurture hope, I have found my faith (that I smugly felt so secure in) deepen and mature. I don't know what Heavenly Father has planned, or how this  "pregnancy story" will go, but I do know that I have been so blessed by the principle of hope.

So, I suppose that the short answer to your question is, "yes-- I did worry about my age when I decided to get pregnant. And, I had a lot of other legitimate reasons to worry. But my decision also included SO MUCH MORE!" Does this mean that the answer I got is the right choice for everyone? Definitely not. However, I do think that the truths I learned on my quest -- that of letting faith guide your choices instead of fear, and cultivating hope as a part of that faith-- those truths can apply to everyone.

Love, 
Kristen

I thought the hand up by it's face was so sweet.

Isn't that just the most amazing little angel face?

I love the perfect little ear in this one, and that nose looks so much like my other babies that it blows me away.