Let Them Eat Cake

The Lord has been working on me… the often painful, but always rewarding kind of work.  Not content to leave us as we are, Christ comes in and prunes, searches, encourages, and matures.  I hope I can start writing again and share more about what I’m learning.  But we’ll start with a story about some stale cake. 

There has been a slice of cake in our freezer chest for almost seven years.  In recent months, the presence of this cake was sending me into a major funk, messing with my already-fragile postpartum emotions.  This particular piece of cake, which once brought hope and encouraged faith was now only bringing despair and longing.

The cake has been saved, moved across states, and stored since John’s baby dedication at church when he was almost seven months old in August, 2009.  You can read the label on the tupperware holding the remaining slice:

“John's cake to eat when he crawls.”

Back in 2009, I decided to save the piece with John’s name on it as a sign of faith and hope, even if the answers to our prayers for John’s growth and development lingered.  It provided a way to move forward in trust, while knowing we had that symbol waiting for us when the proper time came.  Looking back, I honestly don’t think I ever thought I would still be praying for my seven year old to simply crawl or sit up independently, despite his severe challenges and poor prognoses as an infant.

So you can imagine how, as the months have rolled into years, this cake sitting at the bottom of our freezer chest has brought mixed emotions.  I get a glimpse of it from time to time as I rummage through that chest to pull out frozen meat or veggies, most often to be used for John’s food we make and puree.   And as I’ve caught those glimpses recently, I have been downright depressed.  It felt like a slap in the face—like another reminder of all the dreams we had that never came to fruition, for a life with twins and the type of life we pictured for John even after burying Warren. 

I spoke to a couple of close friends about what the heck I should do with this cake that was now majorly bumming me out.  I felt the whole situation was a big Lose-Lose.  If I kept it, then the cake remained this depressing reminder of what has NOT happened, how the Lord has NOT provided in these particular ways, and how we can shift our focus off of the wonderful things John IS doing and how the Lord HAS provided in his and our lives.  And yet, if I threw it out, I thought that would indicate I was “giving up” on John and possibly an aspect of my faith in God, too.  As though I were throwing in the towel and surrendering to defeat in this area.  My sweet mom even offered to store the cake in her deep freezer if that would bring more peace.

When explaining my predicament and anguish to a dear friend, she whipped out an amazing quote that had been posted on Instagram that week:

“Go and love someone exactly as they are.

And then watch how quickly they transform into the 
greatest, truest version of themselves.

When one feels seen and appreciated in his own essence, 
one is instantly empowered.”

-Wes Angelozzi

This wise friend proclaimed, “M.E., you need to get that cake out, eat it, and celebrate exactly where John is!  

Then get rid of it!!” 

A light bulb of joy and peace went off in that moment.  She wanted for me exactly what God wanted for me: to enjoy John exactly where he is.  And what a gift to have friends that can boldly speak the truth we need to hear!  To have her and countless others who will continue to pray for John and however his journey is to unfold (just as I do for my other children), but to also pray for freedom for us in the present situation.  To know that “different” is not “less than,” as my counselor always reminds me.  To set aside some of the striving and deep longing that has marked much of my journey since 2009.  To continue to pray for development and to provide opportunities for John, but to also shift my perspective on what that development may look like and to get rid of this albatross around our necks.  To celebrate life, God’s goodness, and our sweet son, as he is today: a sweet 7 year with two teeth missing (big boy!), contagious laughter, the relationships he forges, and the joy he brings to so many.  As a person, not a milestone in the "What to Expect When You're Expecting" book.

The plot thickens.  I mulled over my friend’s brilliant suggestion for a couple days, finally telling Meade, “Alright, I have a plan.  We are going to get the cake out and eat it.”  Then I let him know that Friday night was the night.  You won’t believe this.  As I was about to take the cake out of the freezer, this text came in from a sweet friend who used to faithfully help us with John’s “patterning” (the exercise we did with him for years that required 3 adults in hopes of promoting the neurological input and connections needed to spur development and, specifically, crawling).  She now lives many states and miles away and had no idea that her out of the blue text was confirmation and a gift of love straight from the Holy Spirit.  Here’s the screenshot of our exchange:

John HAS grown and developed since those patterning days, and it is a wonderful thing.

So eat cake and celebrate, we did:

And it wasn’t too bad!!   And then, let me tell you how GOOD it felt to throw the rest away, container and all!  John, like every child, is special and unique and deserves to be celebrated for who he is, for who God is growing him to be, and for how God sees him in light of eternity: whole in every way.

Here is what the cake looked like in its original glory:

John remains a precious child of God.  We claimed Ephesians 2:10 for our twins when they were born, and they are both still living this out, even if it looks different but never less than we expected:

“For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”

 -------

As an afterword, Michael was dedicated to the Lord this past Sunday at church.  It was a special time as we brought our entire rambunctious crew up on stage with us and both sets of grandparents beamed from the front row.  I thought I would include a picture of each of them at their respective baby dedications, all wearing the beautiful christening gown that was made for Meade and worn by him as a baby (our boys have also worn camo booties underneath!).  And yes, the best quote of the day was Daniel pointing to Michael, saying, “He looks like a princess!”  Yes, he sure did.  :)

John's dedication in 2009:

Daniel's dedication in 2011:

Andrew's dedication in 2014:

Michael's dedication on Sunday (you can see the booties poking out):

And of course, Warren is always in our hearts and remains a precious gift to our family:

Carrying On

“Great is thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me…

Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow,

Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside!”

-Lyrics from the hymn, Great is Thy Faithfulness;

also see Lamentations 3:23 and Ephesians 1:18-20

So, sometimes our family is a spectacle.  Okay, quite often our family is a spectacle.  Whether it’s on the streets of New York, like this summer, at church, or during an attempt to all eat out as a family (and then we quickly remember this was NOT a good idea… and so we will stay home and order in until amnesia strikes again).  I actually quite like it and certainly adore our wild brood, but I digress.

Anyway, one such occurrence took place a few weeks ago at one of John’s doctor’s appointments.  In my pregnancy-nesting mode, I was packing in all of John’s new and routine doctor’s visits before the baby was to come.  And if you recall, baby Michael decided to come 4.5 weeks early, and, therefore, I was that crazy mom calling doctors’ offices prior to my somewhat emergency C-section to reschedule many of these appointments. 

     Me: “Umm, I’m in the hospital about to have our baby today, so I’m going to have to reschedule that appointment for John next week.” 

     Doctor’s secretary: “And why are you still on the phone with me?”

Fast-forward two months… John, Michael and I are in the waiting room of a new local neurologist’s office at one such rescheduled appointment. Still feeling it would be inappropriate (MEAN) to leave 3 children with a sitter, Michael accompanied John and me to this appointment.  Once called back, the walking spectacle—comprised of an almost 7 year old in an umbrella stroller being pushed by a Mommy wearing a nearly 2 month old strapped to her chest in a worn out Baby Bjorn—made its way through the next door.

Then I see it.  The scale.  A scale for people who stand.  Not for my 35 pound, almost 7 year old who cannot sit independently.  I should have suspected it.  I should have weighed him beforehand, reported the number, and avoided this part of the appointment as I have done in the past.  Instead, I channeled my inner Wonder Woman (which all moms possess), attempted a confident smile, and told the nurse I would stand on the scale holding John (while still having the baby strapped to me) and then she could subtract my weight (plus the baby’s) to get John’s weight.  I’ve done this many times.  But this was the first time with another person strapped to me. I mustered all my strength (which isn’t much post-partum) and leaned over to pick John up out of his stroller, hoping it would work, hoping I wouldn’t hugely embarrass myself.  It did.  Super awkward, but we managed to get the weight and moved on to the next portion of the appointment.

But what made me stand still in my tracks was what the nurse said as the spectacle that was us, all 3 of us, stood on that scale. She remarked in her Jamaican accent, “I guess it’s true what they say: A mother can always carry her own.” 

This encouraged me tremendously.  This nurse was used by the Lord, and she probably didn’t even realize it.  Maybe I’ll get to thank her one day.  The Lord spoke through this woman to address an area I had been doubting, grieving in advance, even.  With my minimal post-partum might, I had not been feeling very “good” at lifting and transporting our sweet John.  While my mind quickly fled to the worst—that I soon wouldn’t be able to lift him at all, either because he is getting bigger or because I am getting weaker—my sweet (and much saner in that moment) husband reminded me that I have just had a baby, that I will regain my strength, and that I am capable of carrying my son.  A mother can always carry her own.

The greater lesson I am learning here is that the Lord will continue to provide— He will make a way, even if this looks differently as time passes or circumstances change.  Despite the unknowns of the future for John or for any of us, God promises to carry us… and that is how we are enabled to carry that which He has entrusted to us.   

We carry on as He carries us.

“He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; He gently leads those that have young. He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; He gently leads those that have young.”

-Isaiah 40:11

 Maddie and Poppy meet baby Michael for the first time in late September!  All the boys are thrilled!

Great-Granddaddy above and hand in hand below.  William Chester and Michael Chester.

We celebrated TEN years of marriage on October 22nd!  Baby got to accompany us on our date. :)

An Unexpected Turn of Events!

A week ago today, I arrived at 1:30 pm for my 35 week appointment at my regular OB practice.  The doctor pulled out the Doppler, and then I planned to be on my way to get John and take him to one of his doctor’s appointments.  I’ll be honest, with high risk OB visits every couple of weeks throughout my entire pregnancy with the full-fledge high tech ultrasounds, I don’t get too worked up over the Doppler… especially when I feel the baby kicking and know all is well.  However, this time, the doctor had a difficult time picking up a consistent heartbeat and then, when she did, it was a little lower than the normal range.  As she went into the hallway, I heard her order an “emergency ultrasound,” and I was quickly escorted across the hall with not a minute’s wait in the waiting room.  The baby’s heartbeat was still a little low, but then came up, then decelerated again, but then remained in the normal range the rest of the time.  But I was told to waddle as quickly as I could to the hospital portion of the medical campus to see my perinatologist for another ultrasound.  There, the baby’s heartbeat was normal the entire time.  Huge relief!   

And yet… my doctor told me they wanted me to stay overnight for heart rate monitoring in the hospital.  I figured something else was up (and had even asked about the umbilical cord), but it wasn’t until I was admitted to the hospital that I was informed the cord was wrapped twice around our baby boy’s neck.  My main doctor (not either of the ones I had seen that day) called and told me the baby would most likely be delivered the next day, if not before, depending on how the night went. 

Here I am, finding myself in a hospital bed hooked up to monitors, without a hospital bag carefully packed, without my husband (who I asked to still take John to his doctor’s appointment… yes, I’m a little nuts), without coming home to my boys as I promised, preparing to deliver a baby who would only be 35 weeks 3 days on the next day, which also happened to be September 11^th. And my parents were supposed to be heading out of town on the 12^th for a week.  I had planned to have another VBAC.  Our cord blood kit from Duke wasn’t supposed to arrive for another week.  I was also supposed to be getting blood from the Red Cross that was a match for me (I have a lot of antibodies and a health condition making for a rare cross match) to have on hand for whenever I went into labor.  I thought we had another month, not being due until October 13^th. 

Honestly, most of the important things at the house and with my children were in good shape.  And who needs a legit “hospital bag” anyway?  We were able to procure a different bank’s cord blood kit at the hospital, and who cares about what many might consider an unfortunate birthday (9-11)? Mostly, I was concerned about the baby’s health, knowing after months on bed rest with the twins how important each additional day and week is within the womb.  I was grateful knowing lung development is typically complete by 32 weeks.  However, I was still concerned about respiratory and feeding issues and possible NICU time.  I just didn't feel we could handle more NICU time after John’s 3-month stay and of course never getting to bring Warren home from the hospital. 

The tears flowed as all of these questions were raised and discussed among our doctors and family.  Simultaneously, I couldn’t deny the excitement rising up in my chest… would I meet my newest little boy tonight or tomorrow?   The Lord truly provided in these moments despite the fear and anxiety I must truthfully acknowledge.   Dear friends stopped by on Thursday and Friday to visit and pray with us and simply distract us with their love and personal updates.  Additionally, my cousin and his wife were in the hospital having just welcomed their precious little girl the day before. I was able to visit with them along with my aunt and uncle.  I also felt comforted knowing that many were praying for us.  

I cannot stress how crucial it is to have a body of believers you can count on to intercede for you, especially after life’s crises and tragedies have come your way.  In these tenuous moments, it can be downright hard to lean into the Lord’s arms, to trust, and to assume the best.  Sometimes, I simply cannot go there. But I trust that others are going there on our behalf.  

Back to this wild week… we wondered if it would be worth it to simply remain in the hospital a few more days while monitored so baby boy could cook a little longer.  My doctor convinced me that even that approach was risky, and that we had a healthy baby in there and felt it best to “win while we could win.”  This was further confirmed Friday morning with another ultrasound, now showing the cord wrapped around the baby’s neck THREE times.  By this point, I definitely had a peace about a C-section that day.  And I wasn’t even disappointed about not getting to attempt another VBAC.  That was why we attempted it with Daniel and Andrew and were grateful to be successful in that… so we wouldn’t have to end up with too many C-sections and that, if and when the time came to need another C-section, we wouldn’t need to count them on two hands.  What's more, the blood I would need in case of an emergency came in before the procedure... another blessing. 

So this is the story how our fifth beloved son entered the world, Michael Chester Stone, on September 11^th, 2015 at 5:55 pm via C-section with my doctor at the helm, assisted by one of his partners who was on call that day.  Dream team for sure.  Meade and I truly felt at peace and were overjoyed when we heard our baby boy cry out as he was brought into the world.  He weighed in at 4 pounds 15 ounces, measuring 18 and 1/8 inches long.  Beyond grateful that the cord issues was caught exactly when it was!

Despite some grunting/minor breathing issues for a couple of hours, Michael received great Apgar scores and was healthy and strong overall.  He never required intervention or intermediate or NICU care.  And he was able to come home with us on Monday.  Praise the Lord!  We are in love!  Thank you for continuing to pray, especially as the early newborn days can bring anxiety triggers and bittersweet memories and emotions.  Pray we will fight fear with faith and embrace joy despite mourning.  Trusting God in both life and loss, as this blog is all about – that He indeed is making all things new!

 

Proud big brothers meeting baby Michael

A few more tidbits or feel free to skip to the additional pictures at the end…

Michael’s name: It took us longer this time around to come up with a name.  For one, we’ve already given out 8 boy names.  Secondly, the pressure kind of builds with each additional boy name as you want them to go together and love each name as much as the one before!  Michael completely fits this little fellow, and we love the significance behind both of his names.  Michael is one of Jesus’ mighty, warrior archangels in the Bible, the protector of Israel.  Additionally, Michael means “defender of God’s people” and “who is like God.”  What’s not to love?

Chester is my father’s middle name, a man I greatly admire in every way!  He is one of the most godly, devoted, caring, disciplined, wise men I know – full of integrity and character, traits we pray over Michael’s life.  Chester is also my brother William and grandfather’s middle name, also wonderful men who we admire and love dearly!  So glad Michael can share a name with all three of them!  Our first-born and John’s twin, William “Warren” Stone, was also named for my dad.  I love that Michael Chester shares a name with the same men for whom his older brother in heaven was named.  Very special for us!  Grateful for all five of our sons.

Birthday significance of September 11:  Michael actually shares a birthday with my awesome sister-in-law, Monica, along with a couple of other dear friends, and it is also the wedding anniversary of another treasured friend.  Additionally, September 11^th is the anniversary of John’s last seizure… this year marked 6 years!  It is a day we celebrate and, now, we have another extra special reason to rejoice on what has become a patriotic day and symbol of strength for our country.

A significant passage of Scripture that has been on our hearts during this pregnancy… very representative of God’s redemptive work in our family and the joy Michael brings to us:

Psalm 126 (The Message):

The Message

1-3 It seemed like a dream, too good to be true,

    when God returned Zion’s exiles.

We laughed, we sang,

    we couldn’t believe our good fortune.

We were the talk of the nations—

    “God was wonderful to them!”

God was wonderful to us;

    we are one happy people.

4-6 

And now, God, do it again—

    bring rains to our drought-stricken lives

So those who planted their crops in despair

    will shout hurrahs at the harvest,

So those who went off with heavy hearts

    will come home laughing, with armloads of blessing.

NIV  Verses 5-6  (LOVE this section from the NIV)

Those who sow with tears

    will reap with songs of joy.

Those who go out weeping,

    carrying seed to sow,

will return with songs of joy,

   carrying sheaves with them.

Aunt Monica, the birthday girl, Uncle William, Honey and B.
Uncle Cole, Maddie and Poppy will be meeting baby Michael soon!

At home!