Beauty from Ashes

Chiffon, tulle, and satin spilled from the racks, transforming the room into a thing of beauty with little effort.  This was a place of magic, this bridal store that held within its confines the dress that I would wear when I pledged my life to my forever love.  My hands couldn't help but reach out and touch the gowns that I had spent hours perusing online.  The "perfect" dress was already pulled in anticipation of my arrival and as I stood in the dressing room I drank in the moment, overwhelmed by the magnitude of emotions that coursed through my veins, overcome by the reality of the event, this moment in time of which little girls dream.  The satin skimmed against my skin and I relished the feeling of "my" gown as it hugged my body in  all the right places.

I stepped onto the platform fully expecting to love what I saw yet instead I HATED it.  This dress that adorned my desk in countless pictures was not at all what I was expecting, not at all what I was wanting.  My mom instantly noticed the distress on my face and my sisters ran to pull countless options from the overflowing racks.  Dress after dress was met with disappointment until only two remained.  One a beautiful mermaid flare that fit like a glove, but covered with lace, an option I had never even considered, it didn't seem like me.  The other an A-Line adorned with beautiful scroll work forming a cross on the train and delicate pearl detailing along the bust.  The design I loved, the fit I despised.

Not willing to commit to either I left the salon frustrated, irritated, and saddened by the prospect of being unable to find "the" dress.  My mom felt like it would serve me well to take a step back so we went to a local mall.  My sisters were concerned, none of the joy that should be present on such a day was evident in my demeanor.  When I squealed over the procurement of a denim jacket they all felt the day was lost. 

Pregnancy for me is much like that trip.  It was something I dreamed of, something I prayed for, something I looked forward to with joy and anticipation.  Yet after two miscarriages, one micro-preemie, one full term delivery, the diagnosis of an incompetent cervix, an emergent cerclage, and 14 weeks of bed rest, it is instead a journey riddled with trepidation, anxiety, and fear. A constant awareness that the light at the end of the tunnel just might be a train.

No one prepares you for the "ugly" side of this experience and in truth no one can.  Each road is different requiring first hand travel for knowledge to be gained and wisdom garnered.  No one can explain the depth of hurt that follows the loss of a child or the sea of emotions that accompany seeing your daughter fight for a life full of unknowns.  No one can prepare you for the emotions that come when the bottom falls out once again or foresee the sacrifices required to bring a healthy child into this world.

We headed back to store for one last attempt and were met at the door by their seamstress who was convinced she could combine the fit of the one with the design of the other.  I slipped into the A-Line again and watched skeptically as she pulled and pinned, clipped and folded the gown, shaping it into something new entirely.  After what seemed liked hours she stepped back and told me to look.  I did, and was amazed at the transformation that had taken place.  Something I despised had been turned into a thing of beauty...

 



Our Lord, like the seamstress, is waiting to make something of beauty from situations that to us seem impossible. We are promised in Isaiah 61:3 that the Lord will "...provide for those who grieve...to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of His splendor."  Sometimes we just have to open our eyes.     

Please Lord may mine be open...

26 and 3

August 16, 2005 started out like any other morning. 

3am
ERR...ERR...ERR...ERR...  Flailing in the darkness I silenced the alarm that threatened to  disturb my sleeping husband and quietly as possible I rolled my ever growing body out of bed.  Replaying the events that had taken place the night before I had to giggle,  "Hurry up Bethany otherwise we are never going to be able to take a walk," my mother called.  I groaned and pushed heavily to my feet, my back protesting the movement.  "I just don't think my body is made to be fat."

I showered quickly and dressed for the day amazed at the way my belly stuck out from under my uniform making it appear as though I was wearing a tent instead of a shirt and after struggling to tie my shoes I tiptoed to the door.  Opening and closing it without a sound I stepped into the dark.  There was something about the stillness of the morning and the crisp feel of the air surrounding my body that made me feel alive, new, in awe.  The stars were just beginning to fade as I climbed into my car and headed to work.  Unwilling to break the silence I mentally ran through the list of things that needed to be accomplished before the day was complete. 

4am
Work...meeting with my advisor...walk...groceries...the list continued until I pulled into my parking space and turned off the engine.  My abdomen tightened as I opened my door but I shrugged it off due to the normal aches and pains of pregnancy.  I was 26 wks and 2 days so the growing and stretching was in full swing and after the loss of two babies I was relishing each kick, pull, and jab no matter how painful they might be. 

6am
I went about my morning duties occasionally noting the recurrence of the tightening.  Over and over I would feel the twinge and although I was convinced that I was imagining things I began a log.  Within an hour a pattern was evident.  My mind raced as I typed "signs of preterm labor" into the search engine on the office computer. 

6:30am
I clicked on the March of Dimes link and my heart stopped, the world around me fading into the background.  Contractions...change in VD...pelvic pressure...low, dull backache...pelvic cramps...abdominal cramps...six symptoms and I had four. The incessant ringing of the phone seemed to last an eternity as I waited for the on call doctor to pick up.  Finally he answered and after a five minute discussion I was asked to come in for observation.  "I am sure you are fine" were his words "Everything was perfect on Friday..."  "Let's just be on the safe side" 

7am
Dialing my husband's number I once again waited anxiously.  He answered in a groggy state of mind trying valiently to make sense of the rapid stream of words being hurled at him.  Finally, something broke through and he understood that I was on my way home and we had to head to hospital.  Hanging up I crumbled...what was going to happen, how would this end up?  The trail of questions left little room for any other thoughts.  Motor memory took over and before I could comprehend what had taken place I arrived home.

7:40am
Silently I changed out of my uniform and into pink lounge pants, a white maternity tank and a NIKE ball cap.  Reassurances poured in as news spread of the situation yet for some reason I was unable to feel any of the hope that they tried to give.  Over and over prayers were whispered.  Pleas that everything would be alright.  That the baby growing within me would be safe.  That the labor (if that was what it was) could be stopped. 

8am
My mom arrived and the three of us headed outside to load up.  I was climbing into the back of the truck to lay down when I heard the hubs say something about a camera.  Angry, I thought how a camera was unneeded...even if this baby did come today there was no way they would make it.  Attempts at small talk did little to calm my nerves and soon a heavy silence fell upon the cab, each of us enveloped in our own thoughts, our own "what ifs."

9am
Within an hour we were on the elevators that would take us to L and D.  I felt sick to my stomach and the tightness that had subsided during our trip had returned. The unknown that waited beyond those doors was overwhelming.  My feet seemed glued to the ground as they opened.  I couldn't do this.  I shouldn't have to do this.  This wasn't supposed to be happening.

One foot followed the other until we arrived at our room.  This just wasn't right...I had dreamed of the day I would deliver our baby but never did the dream go like this.  It was always surrounded by feelings of joy and happiness not trepidation and fear.  Numbly I changed into the hospital gown and answered question after question from the nursing staff.  Charts were filled out, tests were run, but all with a certain nonchalance. 

10:30am
The midwife arrived, boisterous and bubbly, convinced that although I was contracting, this baby was far from being born.  She reviewed exercises that would help with my lower back ache, even going so far as to get on all fours on the hospital floor to demonstrate, and discussed options for treatment if an infection was evident. 

The on call doctor stepped into our room and he repeated many of her sentiments, sure that nothing would take place anytime soon.  He ordered that a shot of surfactant be administered "Just be on the safe side..."

13:15pm
The calm was beginning to return, the medical professionals were convinced that it was "nothing" so it must be.  I joked with my mom...apologized to my husband, I know I woke him but I would make it up, promise.  At that moment a nurse walked in holding my lab reports.  The peace shattered instantly.  The fetal fibronectin (fFN), a test indicating the possibility of labor within two weeks...had come back positive.  The joking and nonchalance disappeared as options were presented and plans were set into motion for a transfer. 

14:00pm
The hubs was sent downstairs to grab a bite to eat while arrangements for the helicopter could be made.  Right after he left the contractions came on like a tidal wave and what was going to be a flight including myself and my husband now had to include a doctor willing to fly with me in what was considered an unstable condition.  The on call doctor agreed and plans were once again put into motion.  Despite their best efforts the contractions still couldn't be controlled and what they thought would be hours at the earliest turned to minutes at the most.  My mom frantically called my husband "It's happening..."  There would be no time for a helicopter, no time for a transfer, the baby was coming, and it was coming NOW.

14:45pm
Our room was suddenly flooded with nurses and staff, all rushing to make the needed preparations for our child's imminent birth.  I grabbed my hat and pulled the brim over my eyes trying to drown everything out, concentrating instead on breathing through the contractions.  The husband, trying to take my mind off of the situation began discussing names.."Brayden Luke if it's a boy right? And Mayce Grace if it's a girl?  How are we going to spell Mayce."  "M-A-Y-C-E" escaped before I could give it much thought.

15:34pm
Moments later I was told to push.  With each contraction both the fear and the pain became a little more overwhelming until the words "It's a girl" cut through the darkness.  I looked up to see this TINY but perfectly formed little girl that they said was ours.  She cried once before being rushed off to the waiting nurses and pediatrician, each of them frantically pulling from all of their medical training as they struggled to stabilize our precious little bitty. 

 

While they worked on her, the midwife and obsetrician worked on me.  Within minutes they knew the source of my preterm labor.  An infection raged within my body and Mayce's only hope of survival was to get out.

Shortly after her arrival our pastor joined us in recovery and upon learning her name he announced that she was certainly an example of "God's aMAYCEing GRACE."  Although I agreed with him in the moment is wasn't until much later that I was able to see how true that statement was.  God's hand had been evident the entire time I was just too blind to see it.

He had then just as He has now provided a way for our sweet little girl. 

Today on January 29, 2013? I am thankful to be 26 and 3.