LucyJayne Lorraine

It had been years. Kind of crazy to think about actually. We had started trying about the same time we moved to Florida. Sophie wasn't even 2 yet. And here it was, over 4 years later. Sophie was halfway through kindergarten, James was in his last year of elementary school. We had moved across the country 3 different times, and lived in 5 different houses. A business started and lost, 9 marathons completed, different assignments in church, lots of vacations, lots of memories. And all the while, we were waiting. Wanting. Hoping. For this little one to arrive. 

I'll spare you the details of the why we weren't getting pregnant. But basically, I was constantly having very early miscarriages during that entire time and just didn't realize it. And then as mentioned in my previous post, His Name Was Fawkes, we had a late miscarriage the spring of 2014. It wasn't until that loss that I realized just HOW MUCH I wanted another baby. Losing him was beyond hard. And before I had gotten pregnant with him I had come to terms with the idea that we just weren't meant to have any more children, and that was okay. Our path lead some other direction I thought. But then, I got pregnant, and it stuck. And we were soooooooo excited and I realized it was what I really wanted, more than anything. And then, as you already know. We lost him. And that was just, the worst. So, we decided to do whatever it took to have a baby. And so off to the fertility specialist we went. Once again, I will spare you the details of all this. We all know how babies are made. ;) Haha. 

It was the Savannah RocknRoll Marathon. November 8th 2014. I hadn't super trained for it. Just enough that I wouldn't die while running the thing. The race started and I started running. And I realized a few things... every dang step I took, my chest hurt. Like, a lot. A super lot. Also, I had to pee like no other. My mind started doing all the math and I thought, "holy crap I think I'm pregnant." Finished the race, with a 3:50 time, drove home, took a pregnancy test and boom! It was positive. Now, I had taken several positive tests over the years, and still no baby. So I didn't jump for joy just yet. I shared the news with Ben, and to be honest both of our reactions...we were scared. Not of being pregnant, but of being hurt. We were happy that we had gotten pregnant, but neither of us could get excited. I wanted to, but I just couldn't.

Morning sickness kicked in right away. And I mean RIGHT away. I thought I was just being over dramatic about it, but then when someone comes up to you and tells you you look very green, you know its for real. And it wasn't just morning sickness, it was 24 hr-shoot-me-now-cause-I-am-wishing -for-death sickness. Nauseated constantly. Could smell every. dang. thing. And it made me run to the nearest sink, garbage, or toilet. Oh man it was awful. But, as friends told me, being sick is a good sign that things are going well.  And then in my mind I would think, I was pretty sick with Fawkes too. Once again, could not get excited, did not want to get hurt.

And then it happened. I started bleeding. A lot. In an instant I was angry. So angry. I couldn't even cry about it. I was just mad that once again the rug was being ripped out from under me. I was 8 weeks along. Ben and I went to the Dr. They did an ultrasound. No heartbeat. Of course. The Dr said our date could just be off and that was why we weren't seeing anything. He did see that I had an internal hemorrhage and that was what was causing the bleeding. They told us to come back in one week to see if there was any growth or heartbeat. If so, great. If not, well then this was another miscarriage. 

That was a very. very. long week. I couldn't even hope or pray for this baby to make it. I couldn't even believe that that could happen for us. It had been years of loss and I just figured that was how it was going to be. I was reading the New Testament at the time. And I read the story about Peter walking on the water, and then falling, and Christ saying "Oh thou of little Faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?" and I thought, "why can't I pray for a miracle? Why can't I have a miracle?" And so, I prayed. And I called a few family members and asked them to pray for me. Ben called his family as well and asked them to pray. His parents are currently in Korea as Mission Presidents. So we literally had people all over the world praying for this little baby to make it. And I prayed. I prayed like I have never prayed before. I pleaded for a miracle. 

And then, a small voice said to me "I'm still here. I'm still here." I suddenly had this tiny bit of hope, that my prayers were being answered, that this little one of ours was indeed, still here. 

The day of the ultrasound came. I have never been so nervous in all my life. My blood pressure was through the roof as was my heart rate. I wanted to hope, but didn't dare to. I wanted to believe that the baby was "still here", But I also fully expected to hear the Dr say, "I'm sorry..."  The Dr came in, started the ultrasound, and there, the most beautiful thing my eyes have ever seen, a tiny very fast little heart beat. I broke down. I asked over and over, "There's a heartbeat? Are you sure? There really is a heart beat?!" And I just lay there sobbing. It was one of the happiest moments of my entire life. 

I carried that ultrasound pic with me everywhere I went. I would pull it out and remind myself that yes, there was a heartbeat. And yes, miracles do exist.  

Christmas was right around the corner, we were basically having weekly ultrasounds to keep on eye on the internal hemmorhage and it seemed to have finally disappeared. Baby was growing as expected, so on Christmas morning we decided to tell the kids. Sophie jumped up and down and did a little fist pump while shouting "YYYYYYEEEEESS!!".  She was by far the most excited about the news.

The pregnancy continued on as expected. The morning sickness started going away around 15-16 weeks, and for that I was very very grateful. We still hadn't announced to the world that we were expecting, just the family. We were waiting for the baby to be just a little further along just in case. Ben and I were still pretty paranoid about losing this one. I guess that's just how it goes after a lot of loss. Every appt I was nervous that they wouldn't find a heartbeat, or that something else would be wrong. And every appt, baby was fine. I was fine. But I still worried. Constantly. 

The day of the 18 week ultrasound came. I was considered high risk due to my history, and so we got to have some high tech ultrasounds done where they can literally see everything of everything. It is amazing. We would find out the sex of the baby at this appt. I knew it was a girl, mostly because of the experience I had had at the Temple as told in my previous post. And so you can imagine how thrilled we were to see that we were indeed having another little girl. And that, this baby girl looked perfect. Everything was developing just as it should be. We decided that it was now safe to announce our pregnancy to the world, and for the first time, Ben and I felt like we could actually get excited about this little baby girl. 

And so the fun began...shopping. And lots of it. We didn't own a single baby item and so had to buy everything new, but we didn't mind. It was so much fun putting together a new little nursery and picking out a crib and bedding and clothes and carseats and a stroller and list never ends. 

  Here I am at 18 weeks.

 Here I am at 25 Weeks

 And here I am at 36 weeks plus some days

I am going to tell you something right now. I was so grateful to be pregnant and to be having this baby, but oh my gosh. By this point I was way past done being pregnant. I was so so so over it. I could no longer eat more than child size portions because there just wasn't room for it. If I laid down at all ever, stomach acid just found its way right up and out. Baby girl was transverse (sideways) and had been since I was 28 weeks. So imagine a head in one rib cage and a butt and a pair of strong kicking legs in your other ribcage and imagine that for a moment. I couldn't sleep on either side because of that, and couldn't sleep on my back, so I could only sleep by propping up a bunch of pillows around me tried to sleep sitting up. It wasn't awesome. At all. 

And then there were the constant labor pains that weren't doing a darn thing. Gah!!! On many occasions I had contractions lasting 1-2 minutes and were 2-3 minutes apart. This would last all night. Or for several hours during the day. The pain was just kind of constant. I was out of my dang mind miserable. I would cry to Ben almost every night that I just could not handle another day. But then, another day would come and go, and I was still pregnant & beyond miserable. For. The. Love.

My due date was July 24th. But because of one, yes one ultrasound out of so many, they had changed my date to August 1st. Even though all the other ultrasounds had her measuring at July 24th or sooner. And here in FL, they do not induce you. They just don't. unless you are very very overdue or there is an obvious problem. So, I was figuring that I would have to be pregnant until August, in the humid summer heat of Orlando, FL. Shoot me now. 

So here I am, huge pregnant. Biting peoples heads off (seriously I owe an apology to a cashier at Tj Max) And once again I have contractions. All night long. So bad that I can't settle down at all. I'm trying to breath through them. They are very regular. 2 minutes apart and lasting 90 seconds. And getting stronger. If that isn't labor, I don't know what is. Around 5 am I finally decided to wake Ben up. We head to the hospital, which is 35 minutes away. We pull into the parking garage and BAM. my contractions stop. completely stop. GAH!! So frustrating. We didn't even go in, just turned the car around and went on home. It was a miserable day. 

They next day I went for a good long walk. No pains whatsoever. I let my kids invite friends over and we went to the pool. At this point I was in a lot of pain. But not contraction pain. Just, my whole body just hurt. So going to the pool and relaxing sounded good, and yes it felt good. We came home and the rest of the day I just hurt. But once again, nothing regular. Nothing like a contraction, just whole body awful pain. It got to the point that I couldn't even walk. That's when Ben said, "We're going to the hospital, now." I could barely make it out to the car. On the drive over, the contractions picked up. They were coming hard and fast. We found our way to labor and delivery. I really really wish I would have had Ben video me walking into that hospital. I was in so much pain and was doing that amazing crazy breathing. And everyone, everyone, was staring at me. It was amazing. 

We got to Labor and Delivery and tadaaa! I was at a 5! That means they have to admit you! YAY!! It was finally time to have this baby!!! But first, they had to give me antibiotics. 2 rounds of them, 4 hours apart. So, they basically stopped my labor and hooked me up to an IV.

 Here I am right after they admitted me. I was so happy to finally be having this baby, but also ready to not be in pain. :)

 And here I am I think just after they gave me that beautiful epidural. So grateful for that.

After they finished giving me the antibiotics, they started me on pitocin to get my labor going again. The contractions started up again, and I remembered Sophie's birth, and just how painful that was without an epidural and thought, why in the heck am I even doing a minute of this. So, I got the epidural. I was at a 7 at this point.  Now, it was time to just wait and watch the little chart that showed how painful my contractions were and be so grateful that I was not feeling them. haha. My friend, Amy Hillis came at this point, with her daughter Maddie and my daughter Sophie. We had talked about it, and Sophie wanted to be there when baby Lucy was born. I thought it would be special. So we sat, and talked. And then, pop! like a balloon, my water broke! I have always had my water broken by the Dr, so it was crazy to feel it happen on its own. And it really just felt like a balloon popping inside of me. It was kind of cool actually. 

So I told the nurse and as she came in to check me, the Dr was coming by to check on me too. I said I was feeling a little pressure so the Dr took a look and said "oh my gosh this baby is coming out, now." And sure enough, she was.  The nurses worked super quickly at this point, got me ready to push, legs up and everything (such a lovely position...) And then I pushed. and pushed again. And pushed one more time. 

And she was here.

Purpley red and crying and sucking on her hand she was here. My little Lucy.

And shocker, She looked just like James. I laughed and laughed and cried and laughed and cried. They put her in my arms and I held her to my chest. I couldn't believe it. She made it. She was a little beat up from the delivery, squished and red marks all over (she was my biggest by more than 2 inches) But she was here. Safe and sound and in my arms.

Welcome to the world little LucyJayne. 

Born July 24th, 2015

7 lbs 12 oz

20.5 inches long

 Look at Ben's happy happy face here. He loves this baby of ours. So, so much.

 This. This right here, is happiness.

 I love this picture. So much I love this picture.  You see, I need this baby. I can't even describe it really. But when she was placed in my arms, I felt all the hurt, all the pain, all the bitterness of past years trials just melt away. Like venom being sucked from a wound, it all just left me. It was like taking a breath of fresh air for the first time. This little tiny thing, she saved me. I didn't even know I needed it, but I did. She healed whatever was still broken inside me. And I am forever grateful.

 Here is the proud papa. Like I said, he loves this baby. Loves loves loves this baby.

 Me and my girls. I am the luckiest.

 And here we are, all settled into our room. That room was tiny and awful, but I had little baby there, so it made it all okay. She had some issues with her blood. It seems our blood got mixed somewhere in there so we had to stay a little longer in the hospital while they kept their eye on her to make sure her blood figured itself out. It did. And she's fine.

 And then it was time to come home from the hospital. We put her in the car. And I cried. Cried because I thought of all the other times we had brought our babies home from the hospital and cried because I knew this was our last time bringing a baby home from the hospital.

And here she is, home. Where she belongs. Where she is needed and loved so so much. She was born on my brother's, Jay, Birthday, but we had already decided on naming her Lucy Lorraine after Ben's mom, Susan Lorraine. We wanted to still keep Lorraine and Lucy as names, but we really wanted to name her after her uncle Jay who has always been one of my best friends. So, after several days of consideration we decided on naming her LucyJayne Lorraine. And I love it. And I love her. 

She is my everything.

His Name was Fawkes

Fawkes Marshall Morrise. That was the name I had wanted to name him. I knew it was a boy. I knew he was a strong warrior type. I imagined him doing a lot of great work on this earth. But that, sadly, was never meant to be.

I know I haven't posted in almost 2 years. I think I stopped posting because it all just became too painful. Life was too painful. 

We moved, well I moved us, across the country. Literally, from FL to CA. It broke my heart to leave FL. Ben was in Chicago for 4 months working constantly one the business and I was left to get our family out to CA. So, that's what I did. It was physically and emotionally exhausting. Just getting everything packed and sorted and arranged was almost more than I could handle. But single moming it on top of all that and leaving everyone I knew and loved to a new place and starting all over again? It was just too much.

There was one weekend in there, our tenth anniversary actually, where I flew out to Chicago for 3 days to see Ben. Hadn't seen him in over 6 weeks. I had just finished the move out of FL and was working on finding us a home in CA. I remember when the weekend was over and I was once again saying goodbye to another person I loved, I lost it. Completely. I silently cried as I went through security, and then found myself a bathroom stall and bawled my eyes out for a solid hour. My heart was just constantly hurting. Too many goodbyes.

Well, I eventually made it to CA, found us a home, arranged to have our truck of belongings delivered and unloaded and was so eager to get things put back together. We had been without a home for 6 weeks and were more than ready to have a pace to call our own. The truck arrived and they started to unload our stuff. Sadly, it was not a good day. I don't know what happened or how, but in one way or another most of our things were damaged, if not completely destroyed. Broken glass was everywhere, boxes were completely smashed, every dining chair was so scraped & scratched there were chunks of wood missing. The back and sides of dresses were torn off. Couches stained and torn, book shelves and coffee tables broken. My new washing machine was in pieces. And broken dishes, lamps, & pictures everywhere.

 I remember looking at the pile of broken things and feeling like I was trying to clean up from some natural disaster. Like a tornado hit or something. As everything came off the truck and I saw all the ruined things I just kept telling myself "it's just stuff, it's just stuff, it's all replaceable, it's okay". And then I found the things that were replaceable. I guess when the guys had loaded the truck they pulled out my hand quilted pieced quilts and blankets from their boxes and used them to pad different furniture items. The quilt my sister had hand hand appliqués for Soohie when she was born, had several holes through it and an entire piece/square ripped out. That's when I lost it. The guys unloading the truck left. I went into my kitchen, sat in the pile of broken everything, held that little quilt and bawled my eyes out.

I remember thinking that would be the low point. That that moment right there in the kitchen would be the worst that it got. And that things would surely look up from there. So, I got myself and my kids some dinner. And while we ate I told them that I was sorry for crying over things, because things are just that...things, and what mattered most to me were my kids. And I had them and they were my greatest treasures. We went back to the house. I didn't know where to start, all the blankets...every blanket sheet, linen, curtain etc was either completely ruined, or just super dirty with holes all through it. I dug through and found the least awful ones. Put them in a mattress and put my kids to bed. Then I stayed up all night. Picking glass out of everything, hammering this that and everything else back together. It took about a week, but eventually I got most things back in order or replaced it. Once again, I thought that moving disaster would be our low point on this CA adventure. 

It wasn't. I'm not going into detail about everything that went wrong. But just know, that literally everything went wrong. School. Was a nightmare. An absolute nightmare. It wasn't until after Harrison had been in school for quite some time that I found out that his teacher was making an open mockery of him in class. She constant made him feel dumb and always gave him zeros on every assignment because his handwriting went outside the lines. I also found out later that he had been being bullied, a kid was taking his lunch every day. Sigh. Poor poor little buddy that never tells me what is going on. It was a really rough year with him. But I don't wonder why. 

Then there was the business. It was doing fabulously while they were in Chicago, just seemed like this awfulness was going to be all worth something  bens dream of starting a company was really happening, and for that for him I could deal with all the crap going on. But then they got to CA. Tech land USA, right? And It just went steadily downhill from there. Let me tell you what a punch in the gut it is to give something your everything, your absolute everything (finances included in there), only to see it fall apart and fail. That's a pretty deep hurt. 

And then there was the loss of our friends. I have never had trouble making friends. My heart ached every single day missing my friends in FL. They had been the best friends anyone could ever ask for. They had become family to me. And to lose them, just broke my heart. But, I was willing and wanting to make new friends and new connections. We didn't know a soul out there. But there was always church and that had always given us a good batch of friends. I am really not going to go into detail here...but let's just say no friends were to be made. Not one. 

I could keep going on and on about all the things that went wrong in CA. Yes there is more. And during all this time I just kept praying praying praying for more strength to get back up on my feet to continue on, to make it through this hard time. I felt so abandoned. I was so alone. I kept praying for comfort, peace, love, anything to help me know God still loves and cares for me and my family and sadly, I got nothing. Everything just kept getting worse.

Until one morning in December. You should know that we had been wanting and trying for another child since before Sophie turned 2. She was now almost 5. We had had multiple miscarriages, all very early on though.  Having another baby was my greatest desire. I was of course grateful for the 3 I had and had come to the realization that they might be all I get and for that I was just grateful that I ever got them. So, I really tried to just fully enjoy them and not get down about not having more. 

But then to my surprise. I was late. Not wanting to disappoint Ben or anything I didn't even tell him. I just got a pregnancy test and took it. It was positive. I sat there in disbelief. I cried and cried tears of gratitude. I immediately said a prayer of thanks to my Heavenly Father for this great gift. I knew my prayers had finally been answered, that he was listening to me and that yes, he did love me. I shared the news with Ben and we were over joyed. Nothing else mattered. It was okay if everything else fell apart because we were getting what we truly wanted, a baby. 

It seemed I knew that little spirit from the get go. His presence just seemed stronger to me than my other kids. I knew it was a boy. I knew he was the strong warrior type. I could imagine him doing great things on this earth. As a missionary, maybe a leader of sorts. Ben and I couldn't help ourselves, we started picking things out. I knew what crib I wanted, the running stroller I was going to get. Heck, we even bought a few clothes for this baby boy of ours. One of my favorite things was a pair of black converse newborn shoes. Just too cute!!!

As the pregnancy progressed and I got sick and nauseated and everything that comes with that I didn't even care that I was sick cause I was just so grateful and excited to be having a baby. As life continued to fall apart around us, it was okay, because we were getting our baby. Every morning, every night. My prayers were filled with gratitude for this little one. And then I would beg. Plead. That this baby would make it here safe and sound. That I would get to hold him in his arms. That my kids would get to know and love him too. I remember saying over and over that it was okay if we never made it back to FL. It was okay if I never had friends again. It was okay if the business failed completely. Just please. Please.

Let me keep this baby.

Well, I hit the 3 month mark. And we gave a sigh of relief. That is the riskiest stage of the pregnancy. We were sure we were good to go. So, we told our kids. They were so excited. They talked constantly of this new baby and what we would name him/her and who would get to share a room. It was so fun to watch their excitement. 

My kids had a week long break from school the last week in February. We decided to make the drive out to UT and visit family. And possibly see some snow, something my kids hadn't seen in years. We had a great visit. But, on our last day there I woke up with full on Labor pains. I couldn't walk. I couldn't move. I knew what those pains were and I knew it wasn't good. 

As I laid on a bed waiting for the pains to subside. And literally shaking from how painful it was. My sweet baby girl

Sophie climbed up on the bed next to

Me. Put her brown blankie over me. And laid next to me, and sang me primary songs. I thought my heart would burst.

The pains eventually went away, but then that night, the bleeding started. And I knew this baby wasn't going to make it. I told Ben and we sat in bed holding each other and just cried together through the night.

I knew there was nothing that could be done at this point. So we just drove ourselves on home the next morning and once we arrived in CA, went to the hospital. There, they confirmed what we already knew. The baby was not developing right, and the heart was no longer beating. They showed me on the ultrasound that I was literally about to pass everything so, I wouldn't need a D&C. Just go home. Do it there.

It was awful. Messy. And so so so painful. I lived in a bathroom for 2 days straight. And then, just like giving birth to a full term baby (just not near as painful) I felt pressure to push and there was what was left of our baby. It was done. He was gone. I was broken.

I went to my room, Ben was sitting on the bed, crying with me again. At that moment I was broken. Completely. There was nothing left. Nothing. I couldn't get "back up on my feet" again. I couldn't keep going. I was done. I was just...so broken. And so I said a prayer. I told my Father in Heaven that I was broken and that there was no fixing me. But that I needed. NEEDED. To feel his love for me that day. 

That day, the sewage in my house backed up and began to flood my house with raw sewage. And I was running buckets of poop water outside to keep my house from flooding. We had to have the water completely shut off and they wouldn't be able to fix it for another couple days. That was my day. At the end of it, I wondered how that was an snswer to my prayer. 

It was. The landlord refused to really fix the plumbing. As it turns out her house can't even handle toilet paper. That was a deal breaker for us. You need to be able to flush. She terminated our lease.

2 weeks later we had packed up and moved back to FL. God did love me. He knew where we needed to be and opened the door to get us there.

I'm not going to lie, it was beyond exhausting trying to pack up and move right after miscarrying...as in days after... But I was so happy to be coming home that it was okay and the pain of losing Fawkes was momentarily pushed aside.

We came back, and it became clear to us that we had made the biggest mistake in ever leaving FL. This was our home. These people were our people. Our ward welcomed us back with open arms and hugs and kisses and kindness and food and help and love over and over again. We were overwhelmed with happiness to be back where we belonged.

However, after things settled and we got moved in. The pain of our loss started to sink in with me. My heart hurt. I had wanted that baby so badly, I had wanted to be his mom more than anything. And he was gone. I felt cheated. I felt like he had been taken from me. I would look back on the year we had just had and wondered where in the world had God been through all of that?? What had I done to offend him? I had always given my all to the church and always believed that My Father in Heaven would not abandon me, yet it felt like he had. It looked like he had. I wanted to believe so much that he was there somehow and I just couldn't see it. And so that is what I hung on to. The thought that he was really there, somehow, I just hadn't or couldn't see it. I still felt hurt from the loss of our little one. But, I put my focus and energy on my kids and that was that. We were happy here in FL, and that softened the wound.

 It wasn't until last fall, sometime in October, that my eyes were opened. It was the most random day. My good friend Amy Hillis came over to help me get some furniture refinished. And we sat and talked and laughed and had a great day together as we often have. And after she left, it hit me. God had not abandoned me while I was alone in CA. He knew what I needed before I even knew it. He had given me the best of friends here in FL, that he knew would help me get through the rough times in CA. Amy Hillis called me throughout my stay in CA, she talked and got me through everything including the miscarriage. I wasn't alone. I had never been completely alone. God had not absndon me. He had been there all along. I felt deeply humbled. 

And then, just a few days after that, I went to the temple with some friends in the ward. I went not looking for or expecting anything. Just had this feeling that I needed to go.

And, as I sat in the celestial room. There suddenly next to me. I could feel the presence of my little boy, Fawkes. And I knew then that he had never been taken away from me, that he had only been given to me. That he was mine. And would forever be mine. That he was a special gift. The tears wouldn't stop, but they were tears of joy. I was filled with such happiness and gratitude. Yes, he had moved on, I wouldn't meet him in this life. But I know that one day, this boy and I will be reunited. And for that I am forever grateful. 

And then as I sat there, to my even greater surprise I felt another spirit on the other side of me. A little girl. One that was ready and waiting to come to our family. And now, here I sit, 36 weeks pregnant with our baby girl. My heart is full.