Here is the story of our sweet miracle, Freddie:
Wednesday, February 20, 2019: Drew is away on business, Jude's birthday is tomorrow, and I just peed on a stick and found out I was pregnant. I was feeling overwhelmed, excited, nervous- all of the things! I couldn't believe it... and almost didn't want to- it was too good to be true. We tried for years for Jude, this only took a few months! I called Drew, my mom, and then the doctor.
With Jude, my doctor in Nebraska had me come in right away to test my HCG levels and then again a few days later to make sure the levels had doubled. When my doctors office here called me back, I asked if I could come in to get the HCG levels tested and they said come on in!
Easy-peasy: I went in, got tested, and they called back and said levels looked great and to come back Friday. The next few days were spent celebrating Jude's birthday, preparing for his party that Saturday, and going back and forth between feeling excited and nervous about the new baby.
Friday, February 22: I went in to the doctor to get the HCG levels rechecked first thing in the morning, then spent the rest of the day palling around with Drew and watching The Profit (Drew had the rare day off and Marcus Lemonis was calling!). It was time to get Jude from school so Drew went to pick him up. Around 4:00pm I get the call from my doctors office: from the nurses tone I could tell she was about to give me bad news.
"The levels did not double. We will need you to come in Monday to double check but this is most likely an 'abnormal pregnancy' (code for not viable- chemical pregnancy or miscarriage)."
I was devastated and in shock. Drew got home with Jude just as I got off the phone with the nurse. I burst into tears as I told him the news and did not stop crying for the rest of the night. Crying increased to sobbing in the fetal position in my bed.
I cried harder than I ever have in my life. I don't even think what I did that night could even be called 'functioning'. My sister asked what the levels were because maybe they ALMOST doubled but the doctor was just being safe. We got online to look at my medical records and discovered that the levels had only gone up by 20 - not even close. Even all these months later, I remember the pain of that long night.
The next morning I felt like my heart had been completely removed. I wavered between feeling dead and feeling devastated. I called a dear friend who had experienced miscarriage and just sort of asked her what to expect. She gave me such incredible love and support and answered all of my questions. She is truly one of the strongest women I know- as are any and all of you who have experienced miscarriage.
Jude's birthday party was later that day and I'm honestly not sure how I got through it. I still couldn't tell you who all showed up from his school because I was so out of it. I probably made a horrible and unfriendly first impression to many parents but I could barely speak, let alone carry on full-on 'get to know you' conversations. When everyone left, I remained in the party room with two of my best friends and I just broke down to them. The sadness I felt built up and I exploded with tears- I had spent the morning waiting and wondering, "Will it happen this morning? Am I going start bleeding at my sons birthday party?" They listened and hurt right along with me. After the party we went out to eat all together at Charlestons and they helped me feel slightly more human again.
*I cannot stress enough how important it was to me to have such amazing friends during this time. Lisa, Meagon, and Nicole: You are life-changers.*
Sunday was more of the same. I just couldn't bring myself to go to church and see people, so I stayed home and watched the service on my laptop while I took a bath. I'd barely eaten anything the past few days and for some reason, I felt the strength to eat a little that morning.
Something hit me and I realized that I still had the baby at that moment, and decided the baby was going to get some of it's brothers birthday cake.
I spent the morning in the bathtub, eating birthday cake and singing songs of worship with the venue praise team as tears constantly flowed down my face.
That night was the Oscars and I had a viewing party already scheduled because I so desperately wanted Lady Gaga to win best actress for A Star Is Born (btw, I'll get to talking about stars later).
I spent the party just basically waiting and dreading the appointment I had to face the next morning.
Monday, February 25: I did my best to get ready for the day, constantly praying for comfort and peace. I went into the kitchen only to find that my dear friend, Meagon, had snuck an encouraging card there right before she left the night before- girl, you have no idea how much that meant to me.
As I drove to the doctors office, I knew what I was about to face. I just wanted to be in and out- I didn't have an appointment, they told me to come in first thing and they'd do the blood work and call with the results later.
One thing I knew: I did NOT want to cry in there.
I prayed the whole drive, "Please Lord, don't let me cry in the doctors office. I don't want people to see me."
For some reason I just felt embarrassed and I didn't want any sort of attention. If I could've made myself invisible I probably would have.
In the past when I've prayed that I wouldn't cry in a situation (I'm a BIG time crier), I couldn't cry if I tried. I knew God was holding my head high and keeping my eyes dry!
This time was different. I parked in the lot and immediately burst into tears. I made one more plea to God to dry me up, composed myself as best I could, and walked into the building.
When it was my turn to go to the blood work guy, I sat down in his chair and he immediately remembered me.
Brief aside: I love this guy. He reminds me of my dad- just kind of sarcastic and dry with the perfect amount of 'grouch'. You know- the kind of 'grouch' that isn't mean, just adorable? At my first blood work appointment, he made fun of my black and white boots and said they looked like skunks. This guy makes me smile.
Anyway, he remembered me.
He goes, "You just had the HCG test- how'd the last one go?"
"Not good." I said and the waterworks started.
Crap.
Now I'm crying in public.
In the doctors office.
In front of medical professionals and strangers.
"Oooooh boy, me and my big mouth!" the man said as he nervously popped his head into the hallway and then said to someone, "Is Stacy (my doctors NP) available????"
"No, she's with a patient, what's going on?"
"Uh, this girl...."(gestures to me)
*nurse walks in and comes right to my side*
"What's wrong sweetie?" she asked.
"I'm going to loose my baby." I managed to get out through sobs.
I then told her what was going on and she wrapped her arms around me and said, "Oh honey! I'm so sorry!!! We've all been through that, too.... it's so hard. I'm going to be praying for you!!!!"
Instantly I felt a bit of comfort wash over me.
He took my blood, and I thanked them both for their kindness.
Just as I was grabbing my coat, another woman came into the room and said, "You guys needed me?"
It was Stacy. I hadn't met her before that day.
They told her my situation and she said, "Here, let's go find a room."
We went into an empty exam room and she looked up my chart. For the next 20 minutes, Stacy answered all of my questions and told me what to expect in a miscarriage.
She was honest- didn't sugar coat or give me 'false hope'. She was so kind and comforting.
She let me know everything was going to be ok.
I left feeling I'd just received a hug from Jesus. I had gone in feeling like my life was over (however irrational that sounds), and left feeling like I had hope. This miscarriage was going to suck, I didn't want it obviously- but now I felt prepared...and like I had a team of people who had my back.
Think about it: if I had gone in like I wanted to- dry eyes, in and out- I would have never experienced the kindness and comfort of the medical staff.
In my car I teared up and just prayed, "God, You showed up. Thank you."
That's why He let me cry. I know it.
Knowing that God cared enough to comfort me in such a physical and tangible way helped me feel like I could get through this. I knew it would still be hard and devastating at times, but I'd be ok.
I went through my day with peace. Still sad, but improving. I waited to get 'the call' to let me know the next steps of the process. It was a long day. I picked Jude up from school and just waited some more. I knew the office closed at 5:00pm so I only had a few more hours to wait.
Then my phone rang. I took a deep breath and answered.
"Is this Lauren?"
"Yes."
"Hi! So everything looks great! The levels doubled so it's all good!"
......
"Wait, what? Um...what? I'm sorry, what? *heh* What? Sorry..so I just...what??" (Repeat that a few times) "I'm sorry....I was just not expecting that. I just spent like 20 minutes talking to Stacy today and she was preparing me for a miscarriage."
Then she said something I'll NEVER forget...
"Well, prepare for the opposite!"
We made plans for me to have follow up appointments and then hung up.
I could NOT believe it. The joy and shock were overwhelming.
Through happy tears, I looked up and said, "God....wow. You showed me Your goodness already, I knew You were good even with the bad that was happening. I don't deserve this. You didn't have to, but You did this..... wow. Thank you."
*Note: they said beforehand that tests can be wrong and that's why they were double checking. I believe the miracle is in those numbers, because the test was not wrong. My levels on Monday hadn't doubled from the past Wednesday, they doubled from Friday. My heart knows I received a miracle.*
I called my mom and texted my few closest friends who knew and immediately Nicole calls me and is ecstatic. I told her I was so happy and in shock and I felt like my world had just turned upside down... then I said (because we're both fans of Stranger Things), "I'm in the Upside-down!!"
To which she replied, "You've got a little demogorgon in there!!"
Later that night, we both took our sons to t-ball practice together where we met a woman who, when I told her my sons name was Jude, told us that she had a son named Revelation. Nicole turns to me and adorably says, "Uh...did she just name your next child?!"
Thus, this little baby was dubbed Revelation Demogorgon (or little RD for short).
The next few weeks were filled with ultrasounds to keep an eye on the progression of baby RD. It was nerve wracking every time but baby was always doing well....in the beginning he was measuring a tad small though (which is amusing now).
We had SO many ultrasounds. Before the big anatomy scan, we had one that had us starting to prepare for a little baby girl! I was excited because I was going to name her after a dear family friend who had passed away the previous year.
Anatomy scan: it's a boy!
Once again, "prepare for the opposite"!
Initially, I had a hard time switching over from 'girl' to 'boy' in my brain, but mostly because I was so proud to name 'her' after our friend, and I had NO clue what to name a boy.
We had Jude's name picked out for years! I felt like a bad mom somehow that I didn't have a name so I didn't know 'who' he was.
In terms of names, I like different, but not crazy. Meaningful. Inspiring.
It took us a while, but I think we nailed it.
Little RD became Freddie Mark (Mark, after my dad <3 p="">
Jude had a hard time with the news for a bit, too. He wanted a sister so badly and was even chanting "I want my girl!" as we were heading to the back yard for the confetti cannon gender reveal he had requested. Blue confetti exploded everywhere and Jude's heart shattered...he burst into tears and didn't stop crying for about 20 minutes. We were trying to help him process his feelings and we asked him why he wanted a sister and he burst out,
"Because some boys are mean and some boys are nice but all girls are nice to me!"
Drew asked him, "Jude, do you think a brother will be mean to you?"
His big blue eyes, still filled with tears, looked up at us and he nodded.
We assured him that his brother is going to love him more than he loves anyone! Once he heard that he felt happy about having a baby brother.
At 30 weeks we had another anatomy scan (something we didn't do with Jude, but is standard now I guess?). Going in I was like, "I swear, if we get another 'opposite' and he's a girl, Imma be upset!" haha.
Well anyway, Freddie was still Freddie, but he was measuring big (ironic because he had measured small before and I prayed that he'd be ok- God showed us! haha!) and the fluid around him was greater than normal. The doctor said it could mean anything from he pees a lot to he has a chromosomal disorder or the extra fluid could cause fetal death.
Drew heard one end of the spectrum, I heard the other. Cue my worrying tears. We had to do another ultrasound at 35w to make sure everything was ok. It was the same (too much fluid), so we had to do non-stress tests every week until delivery to make sure everything was ok.
(Non-stress tests are comprised of being hooked up to a heart monitor for about a half hour to make sure Freddie's heart was behaving appropriately, followed by another anatomy scan type ultrasound.)
Because of all of that, I chose to be induced as soon as I could. This kiddo had given me many scares- I needed him out of me so I didn't worry about what was going on inside me, haha.
Plus, at the last non-stress test ultrasound, they measured him to be almost 10lbs....so yeah.
We were scheduled for induction on October 22- 39weeks on the dot. The night before we thought my water may have broken (I was induced with Jude as well so the spontaneous water breaking thing is unfamiliar to us) so we went in to check and, nope, it hadn't. I had apparently just sat in something wet outside- it sounds silly now, but I was so ready to go I think I was reading into anything I could.
When we went in that night, they said to call ahead in the morning to make sure they had a room for me so I didn't have to wait in the lobby for six hours or something. They had apparently been overrun with births as of late and often were out of rooms. I asked if it's possible we wouldn't even be seen on our scheduled day and they said it was definitely possible. Me and my hormones were not happy with that answer to say the least.
Don't show me the finish line and then move the finish line!
Anyway, crankiness ensued.
On the morning of the 22nd, I got ready and had Drew call the hospital because I was pretty sure if they told me to wait, I might not have been so kind to the nurse who absolutely didn't deserve my hormonal wrath.
I can't tell you how overjoyed I was to hear Drew on the phone with the nurse saying, "You do? Great! We'll see you soon!"
Hallelujah here we go!
From 7:00am on, we spent the day watching Great British Bake Off while I got pumped with amazing drugs. The nurse would check to see how things were progressing every hour, and each time, it went up a centimeter.
I was at a 6 when Drew started to get hungry and told me after the next check, he would leave and grab some food. I was like, "Babe just go now! I'm still 4cm away....he's not going to go 6 to 10."
A few minutes later the nurse walked in to check me and announced, "Alright, you're at a 10! Ready to go!"
It's the first time Drew not listening to me was a good thing (hahahaha).
While we were waiting for the doctor, the nurse checked Freddie's position and discovered he was facing upward. They were going to need to flip him to face downward and her first idea was for me get on all fours, because a lot of times the baby will just flip on their own when that happens.
Y'all...when I say my epidural was good.....it was GOOD.
I was dead from the waist down.
This idea....well....
So we're attempting this all fours thing and I managed to get my upper half turned around and tried with all my might to bring the lower half with me. The nurse was helping me turn over and for some reason my brain thought 'we did it! I'm successfully on all fours!'. I looked down only to discover my legs were not where I thought they were, but were, in fact, so far to my left side that they may as well have been attached to someone else.
It didn't hurt....it also didn't work...but it was hilarious, so I guess that's something.
They flipped me back over and when the doctor arrived, she flipped Freddie no problem and on we went. Time to push.
I apparently impressed the doctor with my pushing abilities because she kept saying how amazing I was at it. Again: dead from the waist down- "Thanks! I'll just take your word for it!"
I was pushing so hard I needed oxygen between contractions....I just wanted this boy in my arms!
Luckily, this didn't last long at all: I pushed through three contractions and he was here!
2:56pm: I finally got to hold my beautiful, 9lb 4oz, 21.5in long baby boy.
My living, breathing, beautiful miracle.
Best day ever.
Here are some treasured photos Drew and I took at the hospital:
"A Star Is Born" is an amazing and perfect film (that I never want to see again) that had come out the previous fall, and for some reason when we were trying to get pregnant, thinking of a baby always made me think 'a star is born'. Not like star as in 'celebrity'.... I don't know exactly how to describe it, but just the symbol of a star stuck with me and spoke to me. Whenever I needed uplifting, stars would just 'show up'.... go ahead and think I'm crazy, but I think this is how God works sometimes.
For example: the very first time was the Sunday before I found out I was pregnant. I knew the upcoming week would give me an answer one way or the other. As we were in church singing, the lights from the stage were projecting onto the ceiling above us. They're usually just circles, but that day... they were stars. That was just the beginning.
To me, stars represent God's love and protection for me and this little boy. Freddie has many star print items as a constant reminder of this.
Today, as I'm writing this, I'm surrounded by Christmas decorations and I can't help but think of my (as a mom) favorite part of the story of Jesus' birth:
Luke 2:19 "But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart."
I have so many treasured things in my heart from this whole experience. Freddie's existence has already made such an impact in my life. That first lesson of "prepare for the opposite" really struck me. I tend to be a worrier, and if I don't have anything to worry about, I'll find something or make something up haha.
The other day Drew told me on average we all have good things happen to us about 90% of the time, but we spend 90% of our time worrying about the other 10%.
That really stuck with me because what I thought I was doing (or rather, the way I justified what I was doing) by worry all the time was preparing myself for anything and everything. I expected the worst because somehow that'd mean I'd never be disappointed. Lately I've realized my 'preparing' is only robbing the '90% good.' And yes, bad things may come...but will worrying ever actually prepare me for them?
Prepare for the opposite started to mean accept the good, expect the good, and look for the good.
Live a life of gratitude, not worry-- this is something I'm working on, and hopefully it'll become natural to me more and more each day.
I'm thankful to have Freddie, my star and physical reminder of how good the opposite can be.
Like I said at the beginning of the post, I see writing this as pondering and preserving my treasured memories. I look at things like this as kind of like a scrapbook I can take with me via my phone or computer and be reminded of each passing anniversary.
My children are my treasures and my legacy and I want them to always have plenty of evidence of my love for them wherever they are....even when they're off at college or with their wives in their own houses and Drew and I are on a beach somewhere relaxing :).
I love you, Freddie Mark.
You are so precious.
You are so important.
You are going to do great things.
