Tag Archives: purpose

June 7, 2014 · 4:40 pm

Where I’ve Been

I realize it’s been a while.


As much as I adore getting to do what I do, I tend to struggle with regular blogging when I am working in the publishing industry. When you are working  as a Project Manager with dozens of others on their writing all day, at least for me, the thrill to write out my own thoughts tends to gone by the time it hits 5pm. Frankly, I seem to be more excited about my authors’ projects than my own writing these days. If you knew the whole back story of the last 2+ years and what drew me back into the industry I abruptly left, you would probably have a deeper understanding of why I feel such redemption through my work. Maybe one day, years from now, I will feel comfortable publicly sharing all of those details; today is just not that day.

In any case, as you have probably noticed, my public writing is fueled 99% by what I’m processing with the Lord; it’s emotional, it’s vulnerable, and rather intense — just like me.  🙂 I do want to start writing about some of the tangible parts of our adoption journey, as many have you have requested. To be honest, it just hasn’t been one of my top priorities. As I’ve written about before, the present is a very busy season for us. I’m having to be very intentional with my time or I don’t even get done the things that help our household run smoothly. Sadly, me sitting down on the couch after work and writing a blog post is not a way in which my over-stressed husband feels loved; he likes things like food, calming walks and eye-to-eye contact. To combat the constant busyness, though, I am going to sit down soon and try to get a blog “schedule” figured out, so stay tuned.

Before I go, thanks for all your prayers, private messages and support during this season of my life.  It means more than I could ever say to know that they are people, many I don’t even know all that well, are praying for us and are unborn children. As we tarry on, the Lord continually reminds me that He is enough and always has been.

A fear-driven question, “What if you are never a mom?” daily pops in my head. I’m training my heart and mind to automatically respond, “Then, Lord, You are still good.” Do I always want to say that? Of course not. I desperately long for motherhood. Even though it’s oh so difficult, I don’t want to waste this season of waiting. After all, it isn’t about what I want, anyway; it’s about how He wants to use my life for His glory and my good. In the end, when I put things in eternal perspective and take my emotions out of it, my ultimate desire is to know the Lord, with or without motherhood.

Have your way, Lord. Have Your way.

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January 5, 2014 · 7:15 pm

What 2013 Taught Me

I don’t know what yours was like, but my 2013 was quite the year.

2013 was a year I’ll certainly never forget and wouldn’t necessarily want to re-live. I won’t, though, go as far as to say I wish I could just re-do 2013 all over again. Though it was excruciatingly hard, the lessons I learned within the crazy that was my 2013 were well worth the pain and will never, ever be forgotten.

I’m not going to re-hash my entire year in this post, as there is plenty of posts already written (even whole series — read here and here) about much of what transpired in my life last year; others part of my life have remained more private, as they should.  If you haven’t been reading my blog the past year, just know I, even one with a wild imagination, could never have written the journey through which the Lord asked me to walk in 2013, especially the first 8 months of it.

As much as you’d like to think differently, you can’t change the past. You can only move forward. 2013 was what it was and it’s my job to learn from it, embrace the brokenness that came in many areas from it, and walk in 2014 full of joy and hope, just like I did when I walked unknowingly into the madness that was last year.

So, what did 2013 teach and/or remind me?
Well, lots of things.

Here’s some examples, in no particular order (except the 1st one):

  • God is still good and sovereign. Absolutely nothing can change that fact.

Though 2013 was my hardest yet, my steadfast belief in God’s sovereignty and goodness did not change. Were their moments I struggled with why God allowed me to become unexpectedly pregnant, let alone why He then allowed our child to die? Of course. I’m a human, after all. I am a human, though, who has seen the hand of God all over their life time and time again, even when things look the darkest from an earthly perspective.

  • My life is not about me.

After almost dying at 19, I am blessed to know from a young age that my life is not about me but instead the glory of God being displayed through how I respond to not only life’s highest highs but also its lowest lows. Though I know I didn’t do it perfectly, I hope that this year I brought Him glory through how I dealt with the circumstances He allowed into my life for my refining and His glory. I pray I do the same in 2014, no matter what happens.

  • My marriage is rock solid and can withstand anything that life throws its way.

I didn’t say my marriage is perfect, because it most certainly isn’t; it does involve two humans, after all. 😉 It is, though, rock solid, and it just keeps getting better. 2013 was the hardest year yet for our four-year-marriage. I’m thankful to say, though, that everything we went through this year brought us even closer together, horrible miscarriage included. During this year, at times, we fought a lot. At times, we cried a lot. At times, to be honest, we struggled a lot…but we came out on the other side a stronger, more unified couple. We came out a better definition of two people living “one flesh.” We came out of the struggle closer to the Lord on an individual basis as well as a corporate one. As  a couple, we came out of 2013 changed, changed for good! I can’t imagine displaying God’s love for the Church through marriage with anyone else than my best friend.  He rocks my world. 🙂

  • I long to be a mother more than sometimes I even know.

This could, and eventually will, be the subject of a whole post. Stay tuned. 🙂

  • Adoption (at least our journey) is hard – really hard – but so worth it. We can’t wait to meet Noah and Hannah and pray they join our family at the same time. 🙂

The giant mountain of paperwork hasn’t even been the hardest part. Being married to a really detailed-oriented person, though, definitely helped in that area. 🙂 No, the paperwork has been a breeze compared to other things, mostly emotional in nature, through which we’ve had to work; some of those things are just a part of the usual process (and will be written about in another series) and others are unique to our particular situation. No matter what comes up, though, the important thing is we’re committed to working through it; we’re committed to finding our children and bringing them home. No matter what, we Paynes don’t ever give up.

  • People like other people’s drama and shy away from public expressions of grief.

I learned this lesson back in the Spring/Early Summer. I had thousands of people (mostly strangers) suddenly flocking to my blog to read all 21 posts about our hard-to-believe adoption/surrogacy/pregnancy/miscarriage/adoption journey. Only an 1/8 of that audience read, though, after the 13th installment of the aforementioned series when I was heartbroken, and therefore devoted three blog posts to redeeming my miscarriage; most of the sharing of my posts stopped, too. Not surprisingly, most of that audience (and shares) returned once again when the other more-appealing series resumed for the last 7 posts.

Don’t get me wrong. I sincerely appreciated the concern (or curiosity) others showed (either through reading and/or contacting me) during my large series full of twists and turns. I just was rather shocked that my readership went down so much when I took a break from the other series (since I was initially hiding (even from my own parents) the fact I was sick post-miscarriage) to publicly deal with the intense grief that came with all that drama people loved to read. Though they were much, much fewer in nature, the private messages I did receive from that miscarriage series made the emotional exhaustion from writing them well worth it. It also reiterated to me just how important it is for me to obey His voice and live as transparently as possible, so that He can use me to encourage others who often feel alone in how they feel. I was amazed how alone so many women who have had miscarriages felt; it made me incredibly sad. It shouldn’t be this way, and as long as I’m alive, I will continue to be as real as possible (on that issue and others) so that others feel the freedom that comes with living without satanic shame.

Though I was humbled by my viewership this year, I don’t write for certain stat numbers. I write in order to be able to breathe, to connect with my Creator, to glorify His name and have Him do whatever with it He wants.  Your guess as to what He does with it in 2014 is as good as mine. No matter how many read, it’s all for Him!

  • Living “transparently” doesn’t have to mean giving anyone and everyone 24/7 access to your life, emotions, time, thoughtfulness, etc. without requiring anything from them; no, that would be toxic and will eventually leave you feeling burnt.  Having Christ-inspired, personal boundaries is one of the healthiest things you can do for yourself and others.

I wrote about this topic in my “mid-life crisis” series.

  • Though he came in contact with thousands, and was followed intensely by 12, even Jesus’ inner circle only consisted of 3 people. Yours will look about the same; don’t kid yourself into believing otherwise.

Not every friend sticks closer than a brother, and that’s OK. Life is full of relationships, each with their own level of closeness. Oftentimes, those in relationship aren’t even desiring the same level of closeness, but unless they’re willing to be honest with one another, one just assumes (and prays) the other will “get a clue”. Somewhere between sometimes and usually, the other party eventually does get a clue and is consequently left confused; that is, unless you’re like my former self, and then often you are left clueless for far longer than expected. In my case, for most of 2013, I also didn’t believe in personal boundaries, so my addiction to emotional harlotry didn’t help my case.

Some friendships are for a season, then fade, then come back again. Some never come back. Some evolve and change over time. You can be someone’s friend without giving them permission to know every single thing about you and vice/versa. You, unbeknownst to me until this year, can also do this while still upholding Christ’s call to love. In fact, sometimes the most loving thing you can do is let things change inside of, or even let go of, a relationship that is near and dear to you.

In rare cases, you will find those with whom your soul connects in a way that is, if I can say, not of this world. You will find people who just “get” you without you needing to explain yourself. They will give you the benefit of the doubt but be willing to confront you when needed. They will desire your good above their own, always without question. They will guard your heart as if it were their own. In your divinely-inspired friendship, you will give and take in a natural, beautiful exchange of wills. Cherish those people. Protect those people with a fierce and loyal love this world does not know.

  • With God’s help, you really can survive anything. Better yet, you can not only survive but thrive while in the midst of the deepest pain, no matter its nature.

I learned this valuable lesson in the physical realm back in 2005 and the emotional realm in 2013.

So what will 2014 bring?

I read a quote on New Year’s Eve that really spoke to me:
“A new year is at hand,” the king said. “We cannot tell what it will bring. If it brings peace, how thankful we shall all be. If it brings us continued struggle, we shall remain undaunted.”
King George VI

That is my prayer for 2014, that I remain undaunted in my commitment to the Lord and His sovereignty and goodness, no matter what befalls me this upcoming year. Whether it be another year of not having the opportunity to be a mother, another year of disappointments and confusion, or even death. By God’s grace, as long as I’m alive, I pray I remain undaunted in my commitment to Him.

Lord, let it be so.

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November 20, 2013 · 6:30 pm

Cosmic Shift

Drafts. A post. Lots more drafts.
That’s been the extent of my blogging the past several months.

Tears. Refining. More Tears. Did I mention tears?
That’s been my life the past several months.
Much of that just hasn’t been put into words, here or even in-person.

Why?
Well, because…

Sometimes the most powerful, gut-wrenching yet healing moments in life leave us simply so undone we (even I) am unable to utter a sound, let alone wax poetically about the cosmic shift occurring within. We are unable to ascertain just exactly what our Creator is doing in the miry depths of our disheveled soul, which can leave us feeling vulnerable to the core and, at times, scared of what is next. All I know is that, if we surrender to the beautiful chaos, when He’s done chipping away and putting back together, we will never be the same. I will never be the same.

Thank you, Father, I will never be the same.

More to come. 🙂

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November 5, 2013 · 7:30 pm

Where Our Adoption Stands

Don’t worry. Our plans haven’t changed (again).
As I told you last month, we’re still adopting. 🙂

Sorry I haven’t really updated you all on our progress lately.
I guess working through my mid-life crisis, and life itself, just got in the way.
There’s been a lot going on here at the Payne’s, I guess you could say.

November is National Adoption Awareness Month, so I figure it’s time to update you again!

I have some exciting news, though, on the adoption front!

If you didn’t catch it in last month’s update….

As of mid-September, we have an official, completed home study! 😀 😀 😀

This makes us officially “legal” and able to take a child, if one would be offered to us. In case you couldn’t already tell, this is a huge, huge deal and was a giant hurdle to cross.

Last time I checked, though, even if you’re legally able to say “yes,” to a child, it’s rather rare to just get called out-of-the-blue and offered the opportunity to parent one, not that it couldn’t happen if the Lord saw fit, though! 😉 

That being said, logistically, we’re making progress.
Not enough, though.
There’s still much work to be done. :/

To be completely honest, October wasn’t a fun month for me. I had grandiose hopes and dreams for the month with our call to fasting/prayer for our adoption, ones that (for the most part) did not come to fruition. When God wasn’t meeting my expectations for the month, I oftentimes struggled with feeling depressed, emotionally tired, confused, alone, and every other negative feeling the enemy tried to throw at me. I didn’t always stand firm on the promises of the Word. Many times, I let my circumstances, ones that weren’t changing fast enough for my liking, determine my level of joy instead of my confidence in Him and Him alone.  Many times, though I was participating in my own call for prayer and fasting, I wasn’t actively participating. Instead, I was just going through the motions, tapping my foot, waiting for Him to “just do something” because we were doing all that we could do and seemingly getting nowhere. Consequently, during those distracted times, I missed out on seeing what the Lord was doing in our midst, even if those things upon which He was working weren’t at all for what I had been praying so fervently and weren’t exactly fun to process.

You see, God certainly did move in October; it was just mostly in ways I hadn’t planned. In hindsight, I am reminded of the verse in Isaiah 55 (v.8) which tells us, ““For My thoughts are not your thoughts, Nor are your ways My ways,” declares the Lord.”

The Word tell us that man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart (I Sam. 16:7). How does that relate to us?

The Lord showed me that oftentimes I, like most people naturally do in my situation, have been coming at the adoption from a purely logistical (“outward”) standpoint. After all, if you know anything about adoption, there are a lot of logistics to think about. When I wasn’t thinking about the logistics, I was thinking about our child and the awesome privilege and responsibility it is going to be to be their mother. Obviously, these were all good things on which to ponder. God, though, in His divine sovereignty and goodness, has been coming at it all along from a holistic standpoint. Moreover, because He so lavishly loves us and longs to reveal Himself to us, He has been thinking not only about not only our precious child and all the details that go with bringing them home to us but, just as importantly, about ME, about US, this whole time, too. 

Though we (especially I) couldn’t see it for the longest time, He hasn’t left us in the desert. We aren’t aimlessly walking around year-after-year, experiencing trial after trial, locked out of the “Promised Land” of parenthood because we’re being “punished” for whatever reason. No, He knows exactly what He is doing, and, contrary to the lies Satan would have me believe, His goal isn’t to break my heart; actually, it’s quite the opposite. No, before He allows us to enter the new “land” of parenthood, He sees the utmost importance in beginning to heal our hearts (in particular mine) first before He moves us elsewhere, especially into such an important season as the one upon which we are about to embark.

No, He isn’t purposefully withholding parenthood from me to torment me. No, instead, He longs for me, for us (individually and corporately), to feel whole before He moves us to a different, very challenging land. The Lord loves us, and our children, enough to tend to our hearts before He ever brings them into our lives.

Sure, He could have parted the waters by now and easily allowed all the tangible, logistical things to fall into place for us to be able to adopt. We could have been richly blessed with a child (or more than one) and going about our lives with our newborn(s) feeling extremely tired but blessed. He chose not to, however, because we never would have felt completely whole. Consequently, things never would have been completely as they should, and the Lord loves us too much to allow that.

He loves us too much to allow us to gain what we want tangibly but, in the process, settle spiritually and emotionally for much less than we could have with Him and with each other as husband and wife. He loves our children too much to leave their parents (i.e. us) as broken beings unable to fully embrace and appreciate our family for what it will be. All this time, He hasn’t been withholding from any of us but instead protecting us, and for that, I am eternally grateful.

Though I couldn’t say it much last month, I am so thankful for that fact. I am so thankful that God did not abandon us in October but instead was preparing and healing our hearts, in particular our marriage, in ways that are crucially important for the well-being of our family once we finally do become a family of three (or four 😉 ).

So, where do we go from here?

  • Well, we pray. And then we pray some more. We have extended our October month of fasting/prayer into November and would love to have your support in our efforts to be bathing our adoption in prayer. You can find an outline of our specific requests (which have been updated) by going here.
  • We refuse to lose heart.
  • As Charles Stanley would say, we “obey God and leave all the consequences to Him.”
  • We stand back in awe and wonder and watch Him move.

Lord God, thank you for how You’re moving. You are all we need.

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October 1, 2013 · 8:04 pm

October & Adoption: A Call To Prayer & Fasting

I just love October! 😀

Every year, I wait in anxious anticipation for these 31 days of Fall bliss. Though we are apart much of the year, my love for October never wanes. Every year around this time I look forward to my pilgrimage to Mennonite Mum Mecca (what I’ve lovingly named a local nursery), so I can pick out my gargantuan mum (for only $5.50!!) for my front porch. I unashamedly dig through the pumpkin bin at Meijer (go ahead, judge me!) for the largest, most uniformed-in-size pumpkin, because they’re all the same price but far from created equal. Oh, October, it’s true – You and your gorgeous foliage, crisp air which begs for boots and sweaters to be worn, and granted permission to indulge in all things pumpkin makes you oh so beautiful to me. 

While reflecting on my love for October this morning during my devotional time, the Lord gave me an idea to make these 31 days not just fun for me but spiritually meaningful to me. Really, Lord, you’d do that for me? Yes, please! The best part? All of you get to be involved! 🙂

From October 1-31, we’re asking people to join us, as we boldly come before the throne of Grace regarding our adoption. Now that we’re officially “legal,” due to having a completed home study (insert huge sigh of relief) as of last month, now seems like a perfect time to start our quest to involve others in our journey to parenthood.

[Update: We are extending our call for prayer & fasting into November. Additional prayer requests are below in bold.]

Will you join us?

Before we begin, here are some things you need to know:

  • We as a couple are committing to being in daily prayer, as we have been, for our adoption.
  • We firmly believe the Lord is working in our midst and is going to make us a family of three, in His timing and way, for His glory.
  • We trust and believe that the Lord has known our child before the foundation of time and has specifically called us to love and raise them.
  • We are committed to loving our child with reckless abandonment and doing everything within our power to bring them home to us.

Especially during this month of corporate prayer and fasting, though oftentimes our situation can make us feel isolated and, we rejoice in the fact we’re not alone. We know that there is POWER in corporate prayer and are excited to see how the Lord uses this sacred time to strengthen our (and your) faith and further our adoption for His glory. I saw the power of a corporate call to prayer around this time 7 years ago, when I was finishing the first edition of Breathtaking, and am expecting just as awesome things to come of this time around.

We believe the Word calls us to pray not only in an expectant, but also a specific, manner, so we’d ask that you partner with us to pray/fast for the following:

Prioritized, Immediate & Specific Requests:

#1: The Lord’s Glory – Most importantly, that through all aspects of our adoption, the Lord would be glorified.

“Yes, Lord, walking in the way of your laws, we wait for you; your name and renown are the desire of our hearts.”
Isaiah 26:8

#2: Child(ren)’s Birth Parents:

  • Pray that they both will come to know the Lord, if they don’t already know Him.
  • Pray that they both the birth mother and birth father (if applicable) feel nothing but loved and respected by not only us but everyone with whom they have contact while the adoption is being finalized.

#3: Our Marketing Plans:

  • Please pray for me as I work on completing the “life book,” which will be used as a tool to introduce potential birth mothers to us.
  • Pray for wisdom and clarity on what to include (as this will be the first impression birth mothers are given of us) and how to disseminate that information.
  • It may sound silly, but as one who is not crafty by nature and is highly sentimental/takes this stuff really, really seriously, the “life book” planning really stresses me out, so please pray for peace to reign when I’m working on it.
  • Pray for the website design and our friend, Becky, who is helping us with both the “life book” and the website. We hope to launch that site (“The Paynes Adopt”) in the very near future.

#4: Our Finances:

  • Adoption is very, very expensive and can come with many unplanned expenses (potentially traveling out of the state, etc.). Please pray that we are able to complete our adoption debt free, which has always been our goal, no matter if we adopt within the state of Ohio or not.
  • Pray for me as I look into adoption-related grants and plans strategic and planning well-received fundraising ideas to help supplement our adoption account. *If you have ideas for fundraising, please feel free to share!

#5: Our Spiritual & Emotional Health/Stress Level:

  • This process can be extremely emotionally-taxing for both of us for different reasons. The stress level at our home can run very high right now, as we prepare tangibly and emotionally to add a little one (or two) to our home with potentially only a few days’ notice.
  • That we will keep our hearts open to what the Lord would want to teach us during this season of waiting and walk into our adoption spiritually and emotionally whole individually and corporately-speaking.

If you would feel comfortable sharing with us your commitment to join with us in concentrated prayer this month for Baby Payne, please either send me a message or join our Facebook group dedicated to our month-long event. If you are wanting to commit to praying certain days, please feel free to share that with us, as well. Obviously, we will continue praying after October ends, but we’re rather excited about seeing how God moves amongst us this month!

Thanks in advance for your prayers! God, have Your way!

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September 25, 2013 · 1:39 pm

8 Years: Reflections on Life Post-Transplant

“Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly beyond all that we ask or think, according to the power that works within us, to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations forever and ever. Amen.”
Ephesians 3:20-21

“My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.“
Psalm 73:26

8 years.
2,922 days.
70,128 hours.
4,207,680 minutes.
252,460,800 seconds.

It’s been 8 years since I was wheeled through those double doors and taken back for my double lung transplant. It’s been 8 years since I said goodbye to a room full of family and friends, never knowing if I’d see them again this side of Heaven. It’s been 8 years since the Lord saw it fit to rescue me from my physical brokenness and save me from the brink of death in a matter of just 12 hours for my good, but most importantly, His glory. It’s been 8 years, but those years have been so very full, it feels more like a lifetime…and then some.

So much – so much more than I ever could anticipate – has happened since that time. It would take several blog posts to go through it all, but thankfully I’ve already written about much of it in my book, Breathtaking, as well as documented the most recent happenings here on the blog. If you only recently started following my story during the series on our adoption/surrogacy/miscarriage/adoption journey (thanks for reading, btw :)), I’d encourage you to get to know my life prior to 2013 through my husband’s and my book, if you get the chance.  It truly is a miraculous story of God’s sovereignty and goodness amidst human suffering, a story I could never, ever conjure up on my own in a million years. When I occasionally stop and read portions of the book, or even blog posts I have written this year, to remind myself of how faithful the Lord has been to me during my 27 years of life, I sometimes have a hard time believing that the person I’m reading is about me.

The ways in which I have seen God move in my life are staggeringly beautiful and constantly leave me face-down in a posture of humility before my King, as they should. On days like today, when the vivid memories come flooding back, and the tears fall like fresh rain, I am once again left speechless and so in awe of the work He has chosen to accomplish through me instead of choosing to take me Home years ago, which He so easily could have done. Words can never express my gratitude for the 8 years I have had to walk this earth. No matter how many more years I get, I have been blessed beyond measure to have had the fullness of life I have experienced since September 25, 2005. He didn’t have to practically raise me from the dead for Him to be sovereign or good. By His sheer nature, He can be nothing but those things and more. Friends, He didn’t “owe” me 8 more years, and He certainly doesn’t owe me any more.

He may not owe me any more, but I’m still a human. I still desperately want more time with the ones I love, especially my husband and my children, with whom I have yet to get to spend any time. If we’re truly honest with God, ourselves and others, we all want “more” of something. Whether that be something as simple as more understanding of why a life circumstance had to occur, more children, more money, more friends, more prestige, more whatever. At the end of the day, though, Jesus is asking us – is asking me – if we (I) ultimately only want more of Him, no matter if we get our desire for “more” ____.

That’s a hard pill to swallow (and believe me I’ve swallowed thousands of pills in my life), though, when more of Him may never mean more of the thing you so desperately want. You want the good news, though?

He promises He’ll always be enough.
Always. No exceptions – ever.

I wish I could say I live like I believe this 100% of the time. Like all humans, my finite mind has a hard time sometimes grasping why certain things have to happen. To be honest, 2005 was a lot easier for me than 2013 has been thus far. I know that will sound dramatic to some. It is what it is, though. I can’t really articulate for you all the ends-and-outs of exactly why that is. That is my reality, though, whether you (or I) understand it or not.

As I continue through my post-transplant journey, I admittedly struggle at times feeling like a ticking “time bomb.” In some ways, this feeling has gotten better as time as gone by; in others, it has become harder to escape. 8 years out, 1 year always feels like 5 years, if not more. In the beginning, 1 year would feel like a decade.

After all of these years, I think I’m finally starting to realize why:

The longer I live, the more people die who began their transplant journey around the same time as me (60-70%); that’s a fact of life I can’t change. I don’t have to be a slave to it, but I can’t hide under a rug and act like it doesn’t exist. Consequently, though I know beyond a shadow of a doubt God can choose to have me live another 50 years, time certainly doesn’t seem on my side. Just like an older person who most likely has lived at least 1/2 , if not much more of their life, I am left with not only a keen awareness of time but this insatiable desire to not only be a good steward of my time but also for more – lots more – of it in general. To not be enslaved to the awareness of life being but a vapor (James 4:14), I also have to daily (especially during this season of barrenness) give my desire for control over my time on earth over to the Lord, the One who numbered my days before time existed.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m a firm believer that being cognizant of time isn’t all a bad thing – hardly so. In fact, I believe (for me) having a healthy awareness of post-transplant patients’ life spans, and thinking through how your family is going to be taken care of if/when you’re gone and unable to be there for them, is not only the responsible thing to do but the Godly thing. That’s why I took the time to plan out my funeral 8 years ago when I was faced with the very real possibility of death. I refused to leave that difficult task on my parents to do with the help of my close friends, who also would have been grieving (though not as deeply) upon my death. My mom didn’t understand my reasoning for such planning at the time. Understandably so, she refused to take part in it. It had to be done, though; at least it had to be done for me, if even only for a few months, to live with a clear conscience. Even though  God had other plans for my life, and those written-out funeral plans were obviously never used, I know to this day I was obedient in doing it, even 8 1/2 years after sitting down with a group of people and planning out something that never came to fruition.

Now, 8 years, a loving marriage and Lord-willing soon-to-be, precious children later, my focus has shifted from my parents and close friends to my husband and children. My love for my parents hasn’t waned in the slightest (in fact, it has grown as I prepare to be a parent myself), but my priorities have changed and rightfully so. I still want more time with my parents, other immediate family and friends, of course. After all I had been through, I had no idea how much marriage, and the oneness (spiritually, emotionally and physically) that comes with it, would change the way I process time. After my surgery, I was made aware of how precious time truly is, but my urgency for spending my time well has only been heightened since marriage. I’m sure it will become even more sensitive once our children are here. Now I just don’t think about how I’m spending my God-given time and what type of legacy I am leaving. I also have a  physical longing to be a good steward of my time with my spouse and kids. I daily long to “redeem the time” we have with one another. I’m consciously aware that my days with them are (most likely) fewer than we all would like and for which we would ask, and that knowledge changes the way I view everything.

To illustrate my point, I’ll give you an analogy:

Sometimes I feel as if I am standing within an hourglass made of impenetrable glass, which is quickly burying me with sand, i.e. lost time.

As I look out at 99% of the world, in particular those my age, I see those whose glasses seem to be pouring much more slowly than mine. They are standing only knee-to-waist deep in their sand and hardly aware of the urgent feeling they, too, will one day feel to “redeem the time.” For most of them, that realization of their finiteness will come many years later in their journey called life. Due to feeling as if they, even those older than me, “have all the time in the world,” I see mostly a generally worry-free attitude when it comes to redeeming their time left on Earth.

As for me, no matter what the speed of others’ glasses, or how hard I try to move at their speed, I can’t crack the glass or slow down my sand. As a result, I continue to be (or feel as if I a being) swallowed up at a much faster rate than the vast majority of my peers. Those who are my age, including my own spouse, are naturally more concerned with their grandparents’ and parents’ hourglass at this point in their lives than their own.

As Christians, we easily say that none of us are guaranteed tomorrow. Most of us are planning on easily living at least 70-80 years, though, because that’s what statistics tell us we’ll most likely get.  In the process of living all of those years,  it’s easy to lose sight of the beauty and importance of redeeming ever single day, even the mundane ones. It’s easy to “bank” on things happening in life for you (whether graduating from college, marriage, having children, succeeding in your career, retirement, etc.), because after all, that is the natural trajectory of the vast majority’s lives. Furthermore, as people are moving through life and its natural ebbs and flows, most don’t consciously take their finite nature to heart, at least not every single day. This is especially true of those living within the first half of their natural lifespan.

People don’t consciously think about their own hourglass until tragedy strikes.

A few times in life, one will inevitably be rocked to the core and left to deal with a loved one’s mortality. This uneasiness is most likely first felt through the death of grandparents, in particular a close grandparent. Usually, after the initial blow (through the death/sickness of whomever is closest to them — usually the oldest loved ones still living at the time), life eventually returns to “normal.”

When tragedy strikes the younger (peers, spouses, children), however, it tends to “wake people up” a little more than when the elderly pass. Depending on how close and young the dead loved one was, the sting of death seems a little deeper, because all of us (no matter our religious affiliation) know the young aren’t “supposed” to pass away. We feel the effects of the Fall a little more during those tragic times.

Still, the formative life-changes that come from these times of grief, even in its most tense form, usually do not fully garner our attention to our own life clock. Even after the gravest of situations, the urgency to “redeem the time” wanes until the next tragedy, which starts the process all over again for a few days, months, or possibly a few years. 

Most of our lives are not lived under the part of the mantra that says “for tomorrow we die” but instead the former part, which says “live, drink and be merry.” And so we do. Like the old Tracy Lawrence song says, “time marches on,” and it does so without much thought from us most of the time.

Eventually, though, everyone starts to acknowledge their “sand.” After usually a very long, full life, people “suddenly” become aware of their hourglass filling up. They seem shocked and act as if it happened just overnight. As we all know, though, aging,  and consequent loss of time, is a natural progression; it is one that occurs whether we pay attention or not. Some life events, such as illness or a major birthday milestone, just make us more aware of that fact. Major life changes, such as graduating high school or college, getting married, having children, a mid-life crisis, or retirement can also remind us, at least for a bit, that life is indeed moving along.

Eventually, not only do people have to come to grips with time passing, they are faced with their pending death – the end of their “sand” falling – whether they’re ready or not. Psychology experts will tell you that it is during the last years of one’s own life, that deep reflection on one’s own life occurs for the first time for the majority of the human race. Some are eased into this pattern of thinking very slowly and reflect on-and-off for two or more decades before their demise. Others, however, are shoved forward into dealing with their mortality in a more tangible way when they are suddenly diagnosed with a severe illness (such a cancer or heart disease), diagnoses which can even come with a possibility of death for some. For many individuals, due to lack of self-actualization throughout most of their lifetime, oftentimes this period of end-of-life reflection brings up past regrets and disappointments in their personal, professional lives and even spiritual lives. It can conjure up feelings of  past hurt and shame and cause one to feel the consequences of the weight associated with a lack of fulfilled dreams, forgiveness for oneself and/or others, or a pattern of disobedience to God. Sadly, for some (even Christians who are confident in their eternal home), the darkest period of their life is the very end of their life – a very, very sad fact, if you ask me.

Whether we’re ready or not, whether we are at peace or not, the fact is this: We all die.

The question is this: Are we going to not only die well, but more importantly, live well? Are we going to live with conviction for the glory of King, the Author and Finisher of our faith, or are we to try be the masters of our own fate until that no longer works for us?

 Fast pouring glass or not, whether we choose to acknowledge our glass throughout life or not, in order to have peace, Jesus still has to be enough – in all things.

He has to be enough in life and in death. He is the Keeper of the glass, after all. He is the One who determines the number of our days, not us or a statistician who promises us far more, or maybe far fewer, days than we will actually live.

For me, that means a desire for more of Him has to be more than my desire for more time. On a tangible level, that means daily balancing the tension I feel to not focus so intently on my hourglass I feel paralyzed, but to be responsibly aware of its contents, nonetheless. That daily tension causes me to be cognizant of our finite nature, and therefore wanting to live my life to the fullest, but also wanting to be capable of relaxing and enjoying life while I have it, too. Some days, I walk the mental tight rope better than others.

Bottom line: I have to balance my keen awareness of the time at hand (which is a unique gift I’m thankful to have) with also a permission for myself to join the others and, at least in a way, “live, drink and be merry,” as long as I’m doing it for the glory of my King. After all, I’m not dead yet. 😉

Thank God, I’m not dead yet. 🙂


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September 11, 2013 · 11:36 am

Life After A Mid-Life Crisis

I recently had a mid-life crisis.
Sounds fun, huh?
Not so much.

During the emotional turmoil which was that season of my life, I discovered (and shared about how) I was a relational harlot – for years. The crisis is over, though, and life has thankfully moved on. I’m officially a recovering relational harlot at this point. From the messages I received after my post, it sounds like some of you are moving into that category, too. Good for you! I don’t know about you, but I couldn’t be happier. I pray the same for you, as well.

So, not only has life post-crisis moved on, it’s changed – a lot.

Some days I willingly embrace my new-found relational freedom. Other days, like a drug addict in rehab, I crave my former life and wonder if I was really hurting myself as much as I have recently come to make myself believe. No matter if my feelings align or not, I’m daily left to make a conscious decision to still live as authentically as I always have (and always will) but not as transparently as I – and everyone else – have become accustomed.

After a few minutes of doubt, some prayer, and a lot of grace with myself, I feel confident in my decision once again…until the next time, when I repeat the process over and over again. I guess that is what people de-toxing from old, unhealthy habits do. As I “get healthy,” I don’t want to get so caught up in not going back to my old relational habits that I am tempted to move the complete opposite way, which wouldn’t be healthy, either. That wouldn’t be profitable and would just lead to another rehab program down-the-road. No, thank you.

I’m daily committed to finding the happy relational medium.

That means…

  • I’m learning how priceless my marriage is and how much my husband means to me and deserves my undivided attention. I’m learning relationships are few and far between where both parties, whether in a marriage or a friendship, are being mutually transparent and giving; they may be rare, but they truly are a taste of Heaven on Earth.  I am more consciously aware of these relationships’ value and uniqueness. Moreover, I am more devoted to cultivating these few relationships, especially with my spouse, instead of giving so much of my heart to so many and not getting much (if anything) in return. I’m learning you can be loving without giving all of yourself to every single person.
  • Furthermore,  even though it feels so wrong to even say that, let alone do it, I’m learning self-preservation, at least in a way, is Godly and good. I’m left to show more wisdom and pursue “wide-open” relationships with people who don’t question my heart (You want to really hurt a hyper-relational, honest-as-they come type of person ? Just question their motives.) and desire to reciprocate the transparency I’ve always so easily given. Moreover, because I’ve consciously preserved myself and not expended myself (even if sincerely) to the point of emotional depletion, I’m left with more emotional energy to “love” the masses from a healthier distance without unintentionally needing anything from them or getting hurt when they don’t (for whatever reason) accept my genuineness.
  • I’m on my phone a lot less. This is still a work in progress (ask my husband), but I’m slowly losing my desire to constantly “connect” with people via text, to “Like” everyone’s latest status updates on Facebook, and everything else that can easily deceive you into thinking you have a close, mutually-giving relationship with someone when you have the furthest thing from it.  My phone doesn’t blow up nearly as much as before, because I’m intentionally taking a step back and not initiating contact with most. I’ve slowly realized that, because of my former propensity to live life wide-open with everyone and therefore share all my cards to anyone who breathes, I have been duped all along into believing this sentiment was mutually being practiced by far more than who actually reciprocated that level of transparency. Ouch. Admittedly, after years of being the pursuer, I’m wanting to be, and working on being, pursued. Though it’s hard,  I guess I’m learning that timeless lesson, “You teach people how to treat you.” People are rightfully used to me being the pursuer; that’s what I’ve always done and enjoyed, after all. Well, not anymore. I’m sure I’ll increase my pursuit with time (never to the extent I did before), but during this time of transition, I’m not setting myself up for failure. I don’t want to go back to bad habits, and they do die hard. In the meantime, I’m learning the few people who do regularly contact me, without me always having to contact them first, are the ones who deserve my attention the most. My love and appreciation for said individuals has only grown and matured. 
  • I spend time with Jesus a lot more. Since my phone hasn’t been occupying my time as much, I have had much more time to devote to the Lover of my Soul, Jesus Christ, during this season. Not surprisingly, He hasn’t changed. He has waited patiently for me to climb up into His lap, tell Him my troubles, and let Him slowly heal me to the core. I listen to sermons a lot more, in particular those on relationships and how most people function with each other (I’m realizing I really am rather strange). I review almost daily how the Lord ministered to (and very much loved) the masses, yet was obviously closer to the 12 disciples and even closer to the “inner circle” of 3. I am encouraged by the fact that, if Jesus didn’t feel guilty for not giving Himself fully to every single person, I don’t have to feel guilty either. I journal prayers and talk much more to the One who knows me better than I know myself. I love you, Jesus. Thank you for never giving up on, and believing in, me.
  • I’m choosing to be more guarded with most, yes, but also refusing to become someone I’m just not, i.e. cynical and cold. Though I wish it were possible to healthily give so deeply of yourself to as many people as I’d like without hurting yourself, I’m learning it just isn’t. No amount of sincerity can change that fact.  On the other hand, becoming bitter and cynical isn’t an option for me. Sure, I have my moments when I think about some past relationships and realize it wasn’t really the way I perceived it and feel hurt. There’s even past relationships that, now when I think about them, make me feel extremely burnt. That’s when, though, I find myself having the most compassion, even for the people who caused me the most hurt. I find myself praying for them and their families. I find myself genuinely wishing them nothing but God’s best. I told you before, I’m not very good (at all) at holding a grudge. I refuse to stop loving people. Doing so, would just deny a very large part of who I am — a very outwardly giving, caring person who loves very deeply very easily. I’m just learning I deserve to be loved, too, and that starts with me properly loving myself through putting up relational boundaries.
  • I’ve realized that, for years, I haphazardly left so many more very personal pieces of me with a much larger population than whom has left valuable pieces of themselves with me. In a way, because of my carelessness, I’m left feeling like a prostitute who has given away her body far too many times. I wasn’t just cordial with the masses. I didn’t just “kiss” all of these people. I emotionally went to bed with humanity, exposing all my “goods” for the whole world to see. I’m now dealing with the consequences of my emotional promiscuity. I honestly still don’t really know what to do with that fact but face it and move on; what else can you do?

Yes, as my good friends (a girl can dream, right? ;)) Rascal Flatts would say, I’m movin’ on…

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August 27, 2013 · 7:30 pm

Why We Are Not Pursuing Surrogacy

Sorry it’s been a while.
I’ve been too busy living my life to have time to blog about it.
I’m back, though. 🙂

In case you missed it, we finally are done with the “Why We Halted Our Adoption” series. I’m just as relieved about that fact as you, believe me.

Why is that?
Well, because that means that after about 6 months, which included planning on going forward with adoption, being suddenly approached about surrogacy, suffering a miscarriage, and waiting out possible health complications from the unplanned pregnancy, our plans to start a family are back on! 😀

Not only are our plans for a family back on, they are in full swing, but we’ll get to all of that soon. We must deal with first things first, though. Before we can discuss how we plan on going forward with our journey to parenthood, we have to talk about what we are not planning on doing – at least not right now.

Long story short: Surrogacy is not currently an option for us.

It was far from easy coming to this conclusion, and it certainly wasn’t a decision that was solidified over night or without plenty of tears. We, especially I, really struggled with the whole thing, to be honest. I spent many nights praying, begging the Lord to just make it crystal clear to us what we were supposed to do with the selfless offer we were given literally out of the blue, an offer that to this day hasn’t been taken off the table by the other party.

I’m not going to lie. As much as we were floored (and humbled) by the opportunity to even be offered the ability to have a child through surrogacy, and as absolutely thrilled as we were with the prospect of safely having a biological child, our (especially John’s) strong, gut-reaction was to say “No” to surrogacy after finding out the costs surrounding it were going to be a lot higher (due to lacking fertility coverage like we thought) than we had anticipated or could afford without taking out a loan.  A lot higher – like $30,000+ higher (i.e. double what we thought) AT LEAST, that is if things went smoothly on the first try.

Hold the phone, people. I’m not married to Jimmy Fallon. $30,000 in the Payne (and I’m sure your) household is a huge chunk of change, and that was a conservative number. It could go a lot higher. To my husband, the more frugal one of the two of us, the new cost of pursuing parenthood through surrogacy might as well have been a $1,000,000. Not good, not good.

Though the new price caused us serious pause, we (especially John) struggled through our fear of not being good stewards of our God-given finances, should we go forward with surrogacy and have to take out a loan. We’d saved the past 3 1/2 years, but we hadn’t saved $50-80,000, hardly so. We hadn’t completely closed the door at that point, though.

We’re Christians and believe in the concept of God being Jehovah Jireh (the LORD as Provider), after all. We knew if He wanted us to pursue surrogacy, He’d provide the finances; we were absolutely sure of that. As I’ve always said, God doesn’t call the equipped but instead equips the called. We just weren’t sure if He was pulling us toward surrogacy or not.

Though due to the nature of how surrogacy became an option, many would (and did) argue that God had obviously made His will known and wanted us to go forward with pursuing it for His glory, it just wasn’t a black and white issue to us, especially to me. It was a really ugly, opaque shade of grey. If you know us, we are very much people who view life through very clear hues of black and white, so admitting we were struggling with making up our minds was hard for us. Though to our amazement (and yours) the idea of surrogacy had literally fallen into our laps, before we even found out about the new price tag associated with it, we really wrestled with the idea of spending out all this money (loan or not) to have our own biological children when so many children are waiting for their forever homes. Once we found out how much having a child through surrogacy was going to actually cost, that internal struggle just became that much harder.

We struggled with passages in Scripture that called us to take care of the orphans, and others which commanded us as Christ-followers to “die to self.” On the other hand, we also struggled with how it obviously wasn’t a sin for others (including our own parents) to have children of their own; they didn’t adopt nor deny their God-given desire to have biological children. Did that mean that just because the method by which one obtains a biological child may be different, and the financial cost may be astronomically higher, the outcome of having a blood-relative child through surrogacy really isn’t a sin (just thinking out loud here)?

Opinions on what we should do very much favored us pursuing surrogacy, no matter the cost. Clear answers, though, were few and far between. We felt torn in more ways than one.

Then life happened. A lot of life. During all of this, we got unexpectedly pregnant ourselves, miscarried, and were left to deal with the loss of our biological child, a child we never imagined we’d ever conceive on our own. Talk about an unexpected, hard and fast detour in the road called life. Though that detour was filled with plenty of heartache, it also came with a blessing in disguise. We found something out that provided the clear answer for which we had searched for weeks. 

While we were dealing with my health being adversely affected by the miscarriage, we were made aware that the imunosupression medicine that most likely caused the miscarriage not only can affect any pregnancies that occur, but there is new evidence that is warning that it could also adversely affect your EGGS themselves. 

There is still not enough research to make a conclusive decision, since there hasn’t been enough post-transplant women of child-bearing age on it. Just knowing there were even shreds of evidence that pointed that way, however, was troubling enough for me. I knew the drug was toxic for a pregnant woman in any stage (especially the first trimester), which is why we never planned on becoming pregnant and consequently why I miscarried. The thought of my actual eggs being altered by this drug,  though, made feel physically sick. I have taken that drug every day, every 12 hours for almost the past 8 years. I had consumed literally thousands of these pills, during the years of my reproductive prime, without any knowledge of how much this nasty (but life-saving) drug could be affecting my fertility. 

To say I was disheartened is an understatement. Who wouldn’t be?

Even though I’m obviously extremely thankful to even be alive after everything I’ve gone through, and know I have no room to complain, I’m still a 27-year-old human. I’m also a woman, a woman with a God-given desire to have the ability to have children. I’m still a woman who wants to believe that, even though I can’t carry our child successfully, my eggs – my contribution to the creation of a human being – are full of life and not death. I’m still a woman who wishes my first child was currently still residing in utero instead of in Heaven. I’m still a human whose heart has been broken too many times to count.

At the end of the day, like you, I’m still a human who, a lot of the time for many different reasons, feels very broken and battered by the Fall and longs for Jesus to come and make everything new, as He’s promised to one day do.

Today is not that day, however.
So we wait.

While we wait, life does not always go as planned. Instead, unlike what prosperity teachers will tell you, life hurts; sometimes it causes what feels like absolutely unbearable pain. We press on, however, knowing that God is good and sovereign, no matter our circumstances.

No, He is not surprised by our circumstances or angered by our consequential emotions about said circumstances. He was human once, after all. All He asks of us is that in the groaning, during the daily war for our heart and our hope, we trust. All He asks is that we believe He is who He says He is, that we believe He has us in the palm of His hand when the waves of life come (and they will) crashing down upon us, that we do not lose heart in the One who has overcome the world.

Though the answer didn’t come the way we imagined, He gave us what we asked – a clear answer. That answer for our family, at least for now with the possible side effects from this particular medication, is a resounding “No.” Maybe someday I will be on different medication and that answer will change. I don’t know. I also don’t pretend to fully understand why He took us, and the precious, willing surrogate and her husband, down this path, either. In my finite thinking, it really just doesn’t make any sense, to be honest. Even though I don’t understand, I’m called to trust that His ways are higher than our ways, as are His thoughts (Is. 55:9).

So, for now, we move on. We don’t just “move on” as ones without hope but instead as those who trust and believe in Ephesians 3:20-21, which tells us:

“Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly beyond all that we ask or think, according to the power that works within us, 21 to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations forever and ever. Amen.”

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August 23, 2013 · 11:55 am

Joy Through Infertility – Another Perspective

Sorry it’s been a while.
I really wasn’t planning on being gone so long.
Then life – lots of it – happened.
One day here soon, we’ll get to (most) of that. Promise. 🙂
If you need to catch up on our journey, now is the time.
Things will move faster from here, Lord-willing.

For the time being while I sort out this new season of life, I wanted to share with you a powerful piece I read today by one of my favorite writers, Holley Gerth. Even though I’ve never met her (or honestly talked to her), I absolutely adore her transparency and was extremely blessed when I read this today.

Thank you for your heart, Holley. It is astonishingly beautiful.

I’ll be back soon to update you on where we are in our ever-changing journey to parenthood; exciting things are happening! God is faithful. 🙂

When God Changes Your Plans {An Infertility Update}

Nurture Bracelet by Lisa Leonard

Nurture Bracelet by Lisa Leonard

Friends, this post has been a long time coming. And I’m going to ask for your grace in advance. Because it makes me knocking-knees nervous to write it. Infertility is such a personal subject for many different reasons besides the obvious. But enough of you have asked and I’ve done enough praying that I just want to give you an update.

Before I start I want to include this disclaimer: If there’s one thing I’ve learned on this journey it’s that everyone’s story is different. What I’m sharing applies to my hubby and I alone.

When Mark and I married in 2000 we thought starting a family would be easy for us. Doesn’t everyone? When we officially began the process to become parents about five years later, we soon realized that wouldn’t be the case for us. Long story short, we went through years of grief, loss, doctor’s appointments and some serious wrestling with God. Out of that process came my first devotional book, Rain on Me {recently released in a new edition as Under God’s Umbrella}.

During that time, over seven people on separate occasions prayed over me that “God would bring new life through my words.” I tucked each of those statements away in my heart, not sure what they meant. God provided many other instances where he used people, even women I didn’t know, to speak into my life that I was not barren. And one day I looked at the Scripture passage about Eve who was called “the mother of all living” and I knew in my heart that every woman is a mama. Yep, every single one of us brings life into the world in some way.

And mine was not going to be through physical kiddos.

It took me years to even dare to whisper that to the closest people in my life. Our culture is so focused on physical family that it felt scandalous–and possibly unchristian–even to speak those words out loud. When I began to, the response was usually, “Have you ever thought about adoption?” The answer: Yes, of course we had. We had thought, prayed, wrestled with it. And yet we never felt like God was directing us that way. That was also an extremely difficult decision in a generation that is passionate about adoption {and rightly so!}.

From time to time I would ask God again, “Are you sure we’re on the path you want us on?” And inevitably within twenty-four hours someone would send me a note saying, “I’m not sure why I’m sending you this but I think God wants me to tell you you’re already a mother.” Truly. I wrote every single time that happened in my journal.

So I’m here, friends, almost ten years from the time we started this journey. And I want to tell you this: my heart is healed, my life is full, and I’m a word mama to the hearts of thousands of women around the world. I’m truly, deeply blessed.

We could have gone out and found a way to get a baby. We live in a culture where we can make that happen. And it would have done away with a lot of the hard questions we’ve had to answer the last few years. But if we had, it would not have been God’s best for us. I would have been like Sarah and whatever option I chose would have been my Hagar.

So I’m officially announcing that our infertility journey is done. We are in a new season–one of so much life, growth, and joy. One I wouldn’t have chosen but now wouldn’t trade because as David said in the Psalms “better is one day in your courts than thousands elsewhere.” In other words, I want to stay in the center of God’s will. I trust him to continue filling the mama-longing in my heart {Ps. 84:11}. I trust him to take care of me when I’m old {Is. 46:4}. I trust him to have a plan that is greater than mine {Rom. 8:28}.

And in that I can rest.

Even more than rest, I can rejoice.

It is well with my soul.

I am a mother. And it is good.

XOXO

Holley

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July 12, 2013 · 8:28 pm

Why We Halted Our Adoption: The Possibilities – Part 16

So in Part 15, life just got more complicated.
I won’t lie. In the midst of it, I found myself many, many times mumbling, “Is it over yet?”

You ready for more?

Let us review: Why did we halt our adoption?

The simplest answer is because we cannot afford to pursue adoption and surrogacy at once.
*For more on why we before 3 weeks ago we never dreamed surrogacy would be an option,  and how we were both finally at peace with moving forward with our adoption plans, please see Part 1.
*For more on the Facebook message I received 3 weeks ago from practically a perfect stranger that would rock anyone’s world, please see Part 2.
*For more on our surprisingly spirited 1st reaction to that message, please see Part 3.
*For more on the questions we both had, and the emotional struggle I went through, once the surrogacy option was presented to us, please see Part 4.
*For more on the initial, God-filled meeting I had with the woman who strongly felt God may very well be calling her to be our surrogate, please see Part 5.
*For more on the extremely disheartening news we received the day after I met with the woman who appeared to be an angel sent by God to carry our biological child, please see Part 6.
*For more on the strange, but strong, intuition I was feeling just a little over a week after our dream of surrogacy seemed to be slipping from our hands, please see Part 7.
*For more on all the signs that just weren’t going away and ultimately pointing to my intuition being most likely true, please see Part 8.
*For more on the dramatic turn of events that took place one early morning, please see Part 9.
*For more on the painful drive, and then wait at the hospital, I endured while waiting to hear if my intuition was true, please see Part 10.
*For more on the internal conflict I felt when I found out my intuition was wrong, please see Part 11.
*For more on the decision I made to go seek a second doctor’s opinion on what had (or hadn’t) happened, please see Part 12.
*For more on how we found out we had actually miscarried our baby, please see Part 13.
*For more of how the miscarriage affected me emotionally,  and why I chose to share my grief, please see Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3 of my “Redeeming Miscarriage” series.
*For more on the messiness of life, in particular my life, please see Part 14.
*For more on what I never told you had happened after the miscarriage, please see Part 15.
___________________________________________________

“Your antibody count was up to 17% on Monday.” 
“My what?”

If you’ll recall from Part 15, my transplant nurse and friend, Ashley, explained to me the ends-and-outs of the transplant science surrounding antibodies, a science which is not clearly understood and fairly new. I wish there was an easy way for me to explain it all to you, but just remember that antibodies aren’t something you want, and they can lead to antibody-mediated rejection. If you want, you can read this article about different types of rejection, which talks a bit about this type of rejection. Be forewarned, it’s heady! I’ll abbreviate it for you by saying this:

In transplant-speak, “antibody-mediated rejection” is a fancy name for “bad news.”

So far the only research-proven ways one can definitely contract antibodies after transplant (i.e. not from your donor) are through blood transfusions and pregnancy.They may not be the only ways (like my virus, which is the only thing that makes sense at that time), but they are certainly the reasons supported by the most evidence.  

I hadn’t had any blood transfusions. I had, though, been pregnant and was now losing our baby. While standing there learning about yet another life complication, I was exhausted, a bit short of breath and definitely not feeling myself – not good. We had to wait 6 weeks or so, though, to re-test, due to my body needing to regain some stability after my unexpected miscarriage. 

So, that was that. The waiting game was about to begin, a waiting game that would last much longer than expected.

I hung up the phone and aimlessly roamed the aisles in Meijer.
I was overcome with confusion and not in the mood to drive.
I physically trembled as I tried to take it all in.
Now what? What is happening to me, to my life? Seriously, Lord? 

I prayed (OK, begged) God for protection and peace, mustered up enough energy to drive myself home. Once again, I picked up my phone. This time I called my husband, John. I did my best in my diatribe to him to play it off like nothing was wrong and I wasn’t worried, so he shouldn’t worry, either. Only a small part of me believed the positivity coming out of my mouth. I wasn’t my usual “glass half full” kind of self at that point. The extreme hormonal shift occurring inside of me because of the miscarriage, as well as the grief that came with our loss, had me feeling extremely emotionally unstable and prone to crying. I didn’t want to cry about this to John, though. I had already been uncharacteristically inconsolable several times the previous few days; he’d been through enough of my emotional instability.

There was nothing we could do at that point but pray and wait.
For 6 weeks.

During that time, I thankfully began feeling much more like myself, emotionally and physically speaking. It didn’t happen overnight, but the symptoms I had been physically feeling (including the shortness of breath, which was the most concerning) the day I first learned the word “antibody,” all subsided and were a somewhat distant memory.

Our baby was far from a distant memory, but the horrible physical aftermath from the miscarriage was thankfully over….oh, wait. I forgot. It wasn’t, far from it.

After weeks of waiting, the day (a Monday) finally came that I could go get my “all clear” from the transplant team. It was my hope that in a matter of just a few hours, I would no longer  have to worry about there being any medical reason why we couldn’t proceed with starting our family in a way that didn’t involve me attempting to conceive (not that we were “trying” before) any more children; doing so would only put my health, and the baby, in jeopardy. I certainly wasn’t emotionally ready at that point to go back to thinking about welcoming another child into our home. I wanted the delay in moving forward with our plans, though, to be our decision, not that of my medical team. I wanted to be able to re-start the adoption process, or go back to surrogacy if that was the way we felt led, at any point. I didn’t want someone else giving me a timeline of when I could, or couldn’t, pursue a family – the family I so desperately wanted.

The truth is, after feeling the deepest emotional pain I had ever had in my entire life (including the time I almost died), I honestly just wanted to feel in control of my seemingly ever-changing, never-predictable, always-hard life.When my pulmonary function test came back that day even lower than the time before, though, God reminded me that He was still in charge – not me.

92%?! That just couldn’t be…but it was.
A perfectionist and self-competitor when it comes to these things, I literally took the test 15 times – on two different machines. Though I gave it a valiant effort, try as I might, I simply couldn’t get the # to rise.

Though that number is considered extremely high for post-double lung transplant recipients, it was very, very low for me. After looking at a graph of all my pulmonary function tests since my transplant in September 2005, my worst fear was realized:

My lung function (FEV1 — max. amount of air blown out in 1 second) hadn’t been that low in over 6 years. In fact, it had only been that low 2 times since the day 7 1/2 years ago I traded in my 14% lung capacity lungs for some “new” ones.

Besides my test 29 days post-transplant (88%), that low of number had only happened once since late 2005 and not after a test which already showed declining lung function (like my last one). I couldn’t even recall what was going on during that time when I saw the date on the screen. Who knows. It could have even been a fluke. It didn’t matter, though. The numbers had gone all the way back up the next time and the dozens of times since then; many times I had even been over 100%.  Now, though, it was down and in a considerable fashion. I though the 95% I blew out 6 weeks prior was bad. I wasn’t prepared for my “new” number. I didn’t care if it was better than most lung transplant recipients best results. I wanted my numbers, the ones to which I was accustomed. My team wanted them, too.

Something was definitely up, and it wasn’t looking good.

My doctor (love him) and I sat there and had a long chat. Any change in lung function (especially two tests in-a-row with decreases) is always a point of concern. Coming off a miscarriage, I was a very special case. I was the first post-lung transplant patient who had become pregnant with whom my small center had dealt. Their lack of experience with those of my kind wasn’t uncommon. Even the biggest, most notorious centers don’t see hardly any people in my situation; pregnancy after transplant isn’t really recommended, after all.

I wasn’t just going through the normal, hard recovery from miscarriage. I was also having a decrease in lung function, and possibly a rise in antibodies; neither were good. If that wasn’t enough (it felt like more than enough, let me tell you), there was also another possible explanation for my decreased lung function.  Once again, the dreaded words “Laryngopharyngeal Reflux,” i.e. “silent” reflux, and “Nissen Fundoplication” were said.

Nothing sparks uneasiness into the heart of a transplant patient’s heart (at least this one’s) like those four strange words. It is an understatement to say they were the last words I ever wanted to hear at that point.

I think upon hearing them, I even said out loud “Shoot me now.”
I just couldn’t help myself.

I didn’t want to be a part of the majority of transplant patients who had been diagnosed with “silent” reflux post-transplant and had to go on to have the horrible (in my mind) Nissen procedure. I didn’t care if there was the possibility that I was unknowingly (hence “silent” reflux) aspirating stomach acid into my lungs, causing corrosion and consequently my lowered lung function. I had absolutely no desire to deal with the effects of the surgery, in particular the fact that if I endured the procedure, I’d never, ever be able to throw up again! 😦

After some discussion, my doctor and I came to a consensus – we had to do something and had to do it now. We didn’t even have my antibody count back yet, since my blood had to be shipped to OSU for them to process the complicated test, but that didn’t matter. Before things went more South, something had to be done. We couldn’t sit back and just watch everything play out. My health could be in serious jeopardy if we did.

A bronchoscopy to get biopsies of my lungs was ordered for later that week, as well as a 24 hour impedance study (think tube in your nose and holster on your side for 24 hrs.) to check for the “silent” reflux issue.  John and I both were to suddenly take off work to go down for 2 days of testing. Things were getting serious – and fast.

The possibilities of what was wrong were before us, but were the answers close behind?

Part 17 to come!

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