Knighten Days

It is March 1st, 2022 I should be holding, or at least about to welcome my 6th child into this world. My 4th son. My sweet baby, Nathaniel Dean, baby Nate.  I wasn't sure if I wanted to try for another baby. It had taken us 2.5 years and so many fertility treatments and different doctors to finally get pregnant with Henry, and I knew that if we started trying again, and i wasn't able to get pregnant naturally, that I would be heading to do another embryo transfer. I wasn't sure that I wanted to do another embryo transfer because all the hormones were so hard with Henry. So, I prayed.  I practically begged God to let me get pregnant easily and naturally. He heard me, and I was pregnant within 2 months of our decision to have another baby.  I was so excited and, frankly, stunned. It only took two months! As I sat in my friend Ashleigh's garden, showing her the two little lines on those first tests, we talked and planned for the spring. My baby would come in the early spri...

  Two weeks later. Two weeks since I began to worry that I was losing this baby too. Two weeks ago, I went to bed with some hope. But I would wake up with that hope replaced by fear, massive blood loss and nothing to show for it. It’s two weeks later. And my point is, my body is still healing. I did my hair last night. Thought I would change it up and let it be curly. I was excited to go back to church and see my people. But I woke up in the middle of the night with a terrible migraine. I had to stay home. Probably due to hormones sorting themselves out. Because it’s been two weeks after all. Two weeks is forever to wait for your first paycheck. It’s forever when you get to see your best friend after years apart, or when you’re counting down to a big adventure. It’s forever when you are waiting on two pink lines… But two weeks is barely anything when your body is healing or when your heart is grieving. As it turns out, it’s not much when you are rebuilding red blood cells either! ...

February 12th February 16th 4 days. 96 hours of life happened between these first two pictures.  In the first, I was bursting with joy and love for this sweet baby I was finally meeting. The sweet baby my friend had delivered while I was down with COVID. I was so enchanted by her.  In the second picture, I am holding my own youngest baby, who isn’t really even a baby anymore. I just call him that to soothe my heart.  In the first picture, I was imagining how I should be holding my 4th son, my 6th child in just a few short weeks. I was due to deliver him in just two weeks. I also imagined how in just 7 more months, I would be holding my 7th child instead.  In the 2nd picture, I am just shy of 36 hours post-surgery. I began to miscarry just hours after the first picture. I went to the emergency room with heavy bleeding that only kept getting heavier. I ended up under general anesthesia for a procedure to empty my womb so that the hemorrhaging would stop. ...

 It’s officially Valentine’s Day. I want to share what love looks like, and how amazing my husband is.  This might be too much info for some. Or too graphic for others. Or even completely unromantic. But life is intimate and graphic and messy and unexpected.  Over the last 5 months, I have gained a new appreciation for what love looks like. I’ve always known my husband was amazing and loving and attentive. But in the last five months, he has held me and cried with me when we lost our son. He held our son and rocked him when he was born already gone from this world. He cared for our other 5 children when I couldn’t do more than sit on the edge of the bed barely stringing together coherent thoughts.   Today, I was going to announce that we were expecting again. I have an ultrasound scheduled and I had a cute little video reel planned. But instead, I am in bed recovering from an emergency D&E to stop the hemorrhage that accompanied my miscarriage. My husband sp...

After I lost Nate, my sweet son, I felt alone.  Not in the physical or emotional. I had people. I had my husband, who was amazing and attentive and found his healing in helping me heal. I had my sister, and my close friends who reached out and listened and didn’t expect me to be ok. I had meals and gift cards for food delivered so my family could eat. But I felt alone in my spirit.  I questioned God. "Where are you? Where have you been?" You see, I had prayed for this baby. Begged God for him. It took years of trying and treatments and pills and shots and doctors to conceive Nate’s older brother Henry. So when we said we wanted another baby, my prayer, my plea was that it would be easy. That I would get pregnant on my own, and without delay.  My prayer was answered. We were pregnant within a month.  I was so nauseous and sick. But I was thankful because that meant a healthy baby. I got back genetic testing that said my baby was healthy, and I was thankful. I had an u...

When you are overcome with grief and pain, it’s so hard to understand why the world doesn’t stop.  In those moments, it feels like it should.  It feels like everyone should pause.  Like everything should just wait.  Just give you a second to catch your breath.  But it doesn’t. Time moves forward. Life goes on. Even those closest to you, who feel the pain of your loss almost as deeply as you do, continue to move forward while you seem frozen where you are.  In this moment, in this place, it feels like we are all taking a moment to breathe. To pause. To acknowledge the loss, so thank you all, sincerely, for coming. Our son, Nathaniel Dean, Nate, will never be celebrated for his first step, his first birthday, his first words, getting his license, his first date, his wedding day, the birth of his first child. So today, we celebrate all the things that could have and would have been. We also celebrate the joy our sweet Nate brought us. He was prayed for and lov...