The Moberg Family

Category: Baby Tres Bien

  • Life, Loss and Celebration

    I have always been that person who has wanted to wait until it was “safe” to tell people about our pregnancies. I will tell the very, very closest, those safest to my heart right away, but I will wait to tell the rest. I have called this “my safety zone.” I’ve never been a big fan of grieving while “the masses” looked on and this was my way of making sure I didn’t have to. We’ve always waited until we’ve seen an ultra sound, made sure that baby was in the right place, and made sure there was a heart beating strongly. I know, according to the books, you’re not out of the “danger” window until around 12-13 weeks, but since I get so sick during my pregnancies–and everyone has always told me that as long as you are sick, you KNOW the baby is okay–I have figured we were “safe” once we saw that heartbeat and as long as I was still throwing up. As much as I don’t enjoy vomiting every day, it’s been a comfort to me with each of my pregnancies. With each heave, I take comfort in the “fact” that my baby is growing well.

    One of my initial thoughts after we lost the baby was, “Oh, no…my plan of waiting until it was “safe” didn’t work! We’ve told EVERYONE…Oooooohhhhh noooooooo…..” Total and absolute dread followed at the thought of having to tell the world the terrible news. Shame for celebrating our baby consumed me. And I immediately began changing my “safety zone” in my head: “Next time, I’ll wait until 13 weeks! Oh wait, I have friends who have lost babies even after 13 weeks. That’s still not safe. Okay, I’ll wait until 20 weeks! That will keep me safe! Oh, wait….I have very good friends who have lost babies after 20 weeks. That WON’T keep me safe. I’ve got it! I’ll wait until my due date to tell the world!! Oh…wait…I know that even women who carry babies full term give birth to stillborn babies…”

    I played out various scenarios in my head–like, waiting until my next child’s first birthday to share the news with the world. But I knew, in reality, that even THEN I wouldn’t be “safe.”

    I know I have only one choice that is “safe.” And I know exactly what that choice is…so, daily, I drop my tense shoulders…I let down my walls, I lift up my head, and I let the Lord IN…I set my terrified eyes on HIM. I lock my weeping heart on HIM. Because I know…that in Him, and Him alone, will I find safety…will I find shelter…will I find refuge…in the shadow of His wings, I am safe.

    The Lord has had me on this journey of learning what it means to TRULY rely on Him, and Him alone, for years, but he has had His thumb on this issue very strongly for the last 2 1/2 or so. And I will be honest, I thought I was mostly done. I mean, come on, at least at 90% or so… But my tendency to want to find safety in statistics, in the past, in others’ stories, in science, in ANYTHING other than the Lord has reared its fierce head boldly since we lost our baby.

    When tragedy occurs, we all just want to be safe. We all just want OUT of it. We all just want to have control over SOMETHING that will secure in our hearts and minds that we won’t ever meet tragedy again. I have wanted, desperately, to find something seemingly-safe to cling to. I have wanted to cling to the statistics to assure me that this will never happen again. I have wanted to cling to the fact that I have two of the most incredible children on the planet to assure me that, of course, I will get pregnant again and carry another baby full term. I have wanted to cling to the stories of my friends, who have lost babies and gone on to have more. But even as I have begun to put my hands on each of those “securities,” I knew instantly that my fingers would never be able to take a grip on them. They are too slippery, too unsubstantial, too meaningless. And now, I can’t even hope in my nausea. I won’t even “know” that my baby is okay because I am throwing up. Because that’s not true. Those statistics, those stories, my children…they are all great encouragements to me; they do give me hope to some degree. But they are not MY HOPE. They cannot be the places my eyes are set.

    God holds life in His hands. 

    That’s it. That’s the end of the story. I can focus on my health, I can time whatever I want to, but GOD HOLDS LIFE IN HIS HANDS. 

    I can read, I can plan, I can study, I can take the perfect prenatal vitamins, but it is my GOD who holds my babies’ lives in His hands.

    No king is saved by the multitude of an army; A mighty man is not delivered by great strength. A horse is a vain hope for safety; Neither shall it deliver any by its great strength. Behold, the eye of the LORD is on those who fear Him, On those who hope in His mercy, To deliver their soul from death, And to keep them alive in famine. Our soul waits for the LORD; He is our help and our shield. For our heart shall rejoice in Him, Because we have trusted in His holy name. Let Your mercy, O LORD, be upon us, Just as we hope in You. [Psa 33:14-22 NKJV]

    I hope in THE LORD…not the “safety zone” of pregnancies, not the nausea, not the statistics, not the past. My hope, my trust, is in the LORD.

    And so, my perspective has changed entirely. You know, I will never get to have a baby shower to celebrate the life of my third baby. I will never get to plan his or hers first, second, or third birthday party. I had 2 months, once we found out we were pregnant, to celebrate my baby’s life. And you know what? I DID. WE did.

    We rejoiced over our baby’s life!!

    Oh, how we REJOICED over this little one in our family!! And I have no regrets. It was NOT a waste that we celebrated, despite what fear wants to tell me! I am so grateful that we did. I am so grateful for our friends and family who wholeheartedly celebrated with us!! I am so grateful that we took pictures, made a (virtual) announcement, and didn’t withhold our great news until it was “safe.” I am so thankful we didn’t miss out on our short window to celebrate the life of our littlest love. We made A LIFE, and we celebrated that life wholeheartedly. THANK GOD.

    All three of our children :).

    I was a bit taken aback, honestly, by the sympathy that came from “the masses” towards us. I didn’t think I wanted it or needed it, but I was so blessed by the way MANY came around us when they found out we had lost our baby. If you are reading this now, you are probably one of the people who did that, and I want to tell you how grateful I am for your love and your care. We live in hard times, where the lives of babies inside wombs are not valued as they should be, and yet you valued our baby’s life and then grieved with us when that life was gone. Thank you.

    It’s just that I LOVE to celebrate, and I can’t believe I almost let that part of me be stolen. I’m sure I was created to celebrate. Jesus loved to celebrate too, you know! He loved weddings, right??!! 🙂 I love throwing showers, I love finding excuses to make a fun gift for someone, I LOVE IT ALL. And it’s because I love LIFE. I love people, and I love life. It brings ME to life when I get to celebrate others. Weddings are MMYYYY FAAAAVORITE….not because I love details and coordinating colors and themes and parties in and of themselves, but because I love TO TRULY CELEBRATE the fact that two people have chosen to lay their lives down for each other and become one before God and their closest friends!! That is a day to be CELEBRATED!! BIG TIME!!! Does celebration always have to look like a well-planned out party or gift? Oh, of course not. But HOW FUN to go ALL OUT and NOT WITHHOLD A THING to celebrate someone or something like CRAZY. I LOVE to celebrate LIFE.

    I never want to quit celebrating. I never, ever want to quit celebrating LIFE. I never want to celebrate only when it’s “safe.” I want to be wholehearted and, like the woman many of us strive to be like, I so desperately want to “laugh at the days to come” and not fear them (Proverbs 31). It feels ridiculously scary, still, to think about (whenever that day comes) celebrating our next pregnancy boldly. So, so scary. And I have no expectations on us for when the “right time” will be to share. But, I do know this: without faith it is impossible to please Him, and my safety lies in Him…FAITH in HIM. And I want that truth to always drive our celebration, whether we share at 4, 10, 13, or 20 weeks next time.

    Some trust in chariots, and some in horses; But we will remember the name of the LORD our God. They have bowed down and fallen; But we have risen and stand upright. Save, LORD! May the King answer us when we call. [Psa 20:1-9 NKJV]

    WE HOPE, with all our hearts, that we will have another baby one day. But we will not hope in the fact that the statistics say we should or shouldn’t…If God grants us the blessing of another child to care for and raise here on earth, then it is solely by His mercy. Some trust in statistics; But we will remember the name of the LORD our God. We hope in the LORD. And though it feels so scary, I am promised that when I trust in His name, I will NOT be overcome by fear, but instead I will rise and stand upright. Praise be to God!!

    Oh, Lord. Give me the strength, the hope, the faith to celebrate LIFE, even when it feels so scary. Give me the faith to trust solely in You, the One who holds life in His hands. Amen.

     

  • In His Shadow

    In His Shadow

    What do you do?

     

    You stare at the ultra sound tech, who was gentle and quick with the news, and you ask stupid questions over and over, like, “what do you mean there’s no heart beat?”

    When there’s no answer that comes from her mouth, and only several unsatisfying, “I’m sorry’s,” you turn to your husband to explain.

    You look at your husband and ask, over and over again, “how can this be?”

    When he only answers by squeezing your hand tighter and with silent tears that stream down his cheeks, you keep asking, over and over.

    You get off the table when the ultra sound tech leaves you alone and you curl up on his lap and cry hysterically, still asking the same question and shouting, “no, no, no” to no one in particular…but deep down you know you’re talking to God.

    You are moved to the doctor’s room and you wait together, crying and in disbelief.

    The doctor comes in, and with your head buried in your hands and tears puddling on the floor beneath you, you ask, “WHY am I still throwing up? How can this be?”

    You are convinced, when you ask, that she will respond by saying, “What? You’re still throwing up? You’re still so sick? Oh, well, then of COURSE the baby is still alive. There must have been a mistake.”

    But she does not.

    You ask a hundred questions that you’ve had to come up with on the spot.

    And then you leave.

    You hold your husband’s hand and close your eyes over and over again, hoping that if you blink hard enough you’ll wake up from this reality that feels far too unreal to be real.

    And then suddenly, you are grateful. You have never taken your children for granted, you have always known they were miracles, but suddenly, right then, you are more grateful to God than ever before for the two lives he has already given to you to raise and love on this earth.

    Your husband says, “let’s go get our kids and hug them tight,” and you know he is thinking the same thing.

    You somehow drive home, in separate cars, and walk into your familiar, messy house. Everything is the same, just how you left it, yet everything is so different.

    You sit on the couch and tell your 3 year old that we are not going to get to meet the baby in your tummy as we had planned. We will not get to hold the baby or see the baby, the baby will not get to sit in the extra high chair like he talks about every night at dinner. You tell him we will meet the baby in heaven, and when he asks when we get to go there you don’t know what to say.

    He asks a few more questions, that you mostly don’t know how to answer, and then he jumps up and proclaims that he wants to play.

    You are sad that he doesn’t get it, and so grateful that he doesn’t have to.

    You put the kids down for naps.

    You cry. A lot.

    You lay in bed with your husband and cry so hard together that you soon can’t discern whose tears are whose.

    You sleep. Sort of.

    You wake up to the sounds of your two children laughing and playing hard with your husband, and you are so grateful hear the sounds of LIFE flooding your home.

    You fight your nausea and head downstairs to be with your family.

    Your husband hears you and runs to greet you at the bottom of the stairs with red eyes and a kiss.

    You cry a little more in his embrace.

    Your children run to you, and you cling to them with tears streaming down your face.

    You play with them, gratefully.

    You jump and down and shout hooray when your 3 year old puts his poops in the potty.

    And then you turn around and laughter spills from your heart when your daughter puts her big brother’s underwear on her head–again–like a hat.

    And then you cry some more.

    You grieve and grieve and grieve.

    You cry with your husband.

    You cry with your best friends.

    You pick yourself up, get the kids dressed, and go eat sushi.

    You delight in your son using chopsticks for the first time.

    You delight in your daughter who boldly walks up to every stranger in the restaurant and says, “hi!”

    You go to the park.

    You cry on the way.

    You get home, get the kids in bed, and cry with your husband some more.

    You process.

    You pray.

    You grieve.

    You cry.

    You thank God, for the hundredth time that day, that you married a man who values LIFE, and who fights for life.

    And then you thank Him again.

    You take a pill and try to sleep.

    You wake up and you remember…

    You see that your husband is not next to you, and then you hear him…downstairs, in the middle of the night, crying and crying out to God for a miracle.

    You go back to sleep.

    You wake up after fitful sleep and see that it’s morning. Your heart aches, and then you remember why.

    You see that your husband is still not next to you.

    You pray. And pray and pray.

    You think. About everything.

    You wonder…

    You call out to your husband.

    He comes running in the room, with red, red, wet eyes, and proclaims scripture after scripture to you, declaring God’s goodness, declaring hope…all through a broken, broken heart.

    You cry, and thank God again for your husband.

    You thank God for his weakness in this moment, and also his strength.

    You go back to the doctor for another ultra sound…just to see…just to see if God had performed a miracle.

    You see instantly that the miracle was not the kind you had hoped for.

    But you get to see your baby on that screen again, and you love your baby, somehow, even more than the day before and the day before that.

    Your littlest baby…

    You remember that your littlest is in the arms of the One who formed him or her…understanding and experiencing His love more than you ever have.

    And you are grateful. And sad. And grateful. And so, so sad.

    You realize this is all far, far too much for you to understand.

    And so you look up.

    Because what else can you do?

    You look up.

    You are surrounded in darkness, so you look up. And you see Light.

    You look up through your tears, you look up through your grief.

    And when you look up, and see Him, your grief is comforted. Not less, but comforted.

    When you look up, and you know…you KNOW…that this sweet little one will never know pain, will never experience hurt, will never taste sorrow…when you look up and you know THAT…then you can breathe again.

    Because your littlest is in the arms of the Lord. The arms of the Lord.

    You wish with everything in you that your baby was still with you. But when you look up, you are okay. Because the alternative is so rich…you know the alternative is Glory Himself. In the arms of the Lord.

    You wonder how you will put one foot in front of the other. Walk out of the room. Love your family well.

    And then you remember…

    You remember him on your bed,

    you meditate on Him in the night watches.

    Because He has been your help,

    Therefore in the shadow of His wings, you rejoice.

    Your soul follows close behind Him,

    His right hand upholds you… (Psalm 63)

    How quickly you forgot. But at least you remembered…as soon as you looked up.

    Yes, you are in shadow, but you are in the shadow of His wings.

    And so, you rejoice.

    Somehow, in His strength, you rejoice.

    Rejoice in His salvation.

    Rejoice that One died so that we ought never need taste the pain of death.

    You know there has been no eternal death here…no, your baby is with the Lord.

    Your baby has passed into LIFE…life with Life Himself.

    You know there is no eternal death. Only eternal life.

    You believe that His goodness cannot be overcome by darkness.

    You don’t know how in this moment, but YOU KNOW.

    You know you will remind your soul to hope continually,

    and you will praise Him yet more and more. 

    Your mouth shall tell of His righteousness and His salvation all the day,

    for you do not know their limits.

    You will go in the strength of the Lord GOD;

    You will make mention of His righteousness, of His only (Psalm 71).

    Though this feels very much like “the end,” you know it is just the beginning for your littlest one.

    And so, while nestled in the comfort of the shadow of His wings, you look up.

     

    By you I have been upheld from birth;
    You are He who took me out of my mother’s womb.
    My praise shall be continually of You.  Ps 71:6

     

    Oh, sweet baby, you are up in heaven now, praising Him with all of your heart, mind and soul. Yet still, our heart will ache for you until the day we can hold you in our arms, alive. Goodbye, our most precious, precious baby…Goodbye for now.

     

     

     

  • 8 Weeks!

    March 3, 2014: 8 weeks along

    I feel…

    -Grateful for new life. Grateful for the Lord’s mercy on me every day.

    -Up for the challenge.

    -Hopeful.

    -Aaaanndd…nauseous most all the time. 🙂 But not necessarily like I’m going to throw up all the time…only really when I’m eating and gag reflex is really bad. Or when I don’t eat quickly enough, I throw up. But I will take being nauseous over throwing up ANY day of the week!!!!

    -Super, super weak. Gone are the days of getting out of bed AND making the family breakfast AND unloading/reloading the dishwasher by 8 am. Getting out of bed is my max :). And sometimes I can even make the family breakfast on a good day!

    -Like I’m eating all the time. Because I–literally–am. This is the HARDEST part by far…trying to find SUBSTANTIVE (i.e., MEATY) things to eat every 1-2 hours, day AND night (although at night I can get by with snacks). Whew. And then it takes me 30-60 minutes to eat said meal. So by the time I finish eating, I’m onto preparing the next meal. All of this is extremely difficult with two little ones running around…and not to mention that I have to focus and go to my “happy place” in my mind to make it through each bite without gagging/throwing up. A wee bit challenging when my kids want to sit in my lap as I eat, take bites, and ask me questions about EVERYTHING. But hey, we’ve survived this far :).

    -so grateful that this pregnancy is overall so much better…

    What’s working…

    Lavender essential oil to help me sleep (miracle in a bottle). Apple sauce in squeeze pouches and Zone bars throughout the night. Brian brings me two hard boiled eggs and apple juice before I get out of bed. My tummy settles, I nurse Selah and then go downstairs for the third hard boiled egg. Make the family breakfast and then 30 minutes later, make 5 or 6 sausage links (dipped in maple syrup!) for my second (fifth?) breakfast. Hot dog for an early lunch. Nap with the kids. Macaroni and cheese for second lunch. Big snack of some sort, twice. Dinner. More macaroni and  cheese for second dinner. Bed.

    There you have it–my schedule. It’s what’s working right now, and keeping me from clinging to the toilet ’round the clock!!

    The Vomit Count…

    THREE TIMES. THREE times, folks!! That’s A MIRACLE!! When we found out I was pregnant, Brian said, “I think you’re going to throw up a maximum of three times.” I rolled my eyes and laughed…that’s usually a good average–per day–during one of my pregnancies. But so far–he is RIGHT! And I will NOT be ashamed to shout that he is right from the rooftops if, indeed, I make it the rest of the 9 months with no more upchucking. Please, Lord…

    Biggest challenge of the month…

    Besides the fact that Elliott, Selah and I have all been sick the last two weeks, the biggest challenge has been trying to wean Selah. I decided about week 6 that as much as I didn’t want to, I wasn’t up for losing the extra calories. So we began the process on that Monday. On Tuesday, she got sick and a tooth started to pop through…great timing :). So we did our best, but it was too hard to wean a teething, very sick and congested baby. Plus, she still won’t really take a bottle (or a sippy cup) of milk very well so the one feeding I had dropped she wouldn’t really drink any milk. And it was important to keep her as hydrated as possible. She’s now been sick for two weeks 🙁 so I’m hoping this upcoming week she’ll finally be over it and we can start the process again…

    What’s out?

    Going to the grocery store with the kids. Sheesh. I can barely stand up to get my 12 meals prepped every day, in addition to their 5-6 meals a day…just thinking about loading my 1 and 2 year old in and out of the car–twice–to get groceries makes me want to cry. So I promised Brian I would keep the kids alive during the day and he promised to do the grocery shopping :).

    What’s in?

    Cheeseburgers….THEY’RE BAA-AAAAA-AAAA-CK!!! Really, any kind of MEAT is my saving grace these days. And Mac and Cheese. So much mac and cheese (hey, at least it’s organic and whole wheat :)). And Ginger Ale, the natural kind.

    Quotes of the month:

    6 weeks, 1 day: “So does this mean you’re going to stop being able to look at me now?” –Brian, after I had had my first super nauseous day. (You may or may not remember, but during my ENTIRE pregnancy with Elliott, if I even LOOKED at Brian first thing in the morning, I would immediately throw up. It wasn’t that way with Selah’s pregnancy, but I think he’s still scarred from the experience, haha!!)

    6 weeks, 2 days: “Hey! We’ve got this! We’re in the home stretch now!” –Brian, after I had relayed some sentiment about how this was just the beginning… 🙂

    6 weeks, 3 days: As Brian saw the very pronounced baby bump protruding from my tummy: “Awww!! Look!! Our beautiful little baby bump!!” Me: “Or, a beautiful little taco soup bump…either one!” 🙂

    8 weeks: “Hmm…I probably shouldn’t have had as many cups of coffee as I did this morning because I can’t get this needle in your arm!” –the nurse, trying to draw blood from my arm for a blood test. Yes, EXACTLY what I want to hear as she goes for prick number 3 to try and get the needle into my vein… :/

    Some things I have been overwhelmingly grateful for the past 4 weeks:

    -That I’m not a single mom
    -That I have incredible friends who care deeply for me
    -That Brian is amazing
    -That we live in AMERICA…hence, food options that I (sort of) trust everywhere I turn.
    -That we live 3 minutes away from a Carl’s Junior
    -That I’m throwing up less than ever!!
    -That the Lord’s mercy is always abundant and right on time. 
     
    8 weeks!

    Well, there you have it…one month down, and FOR-EV-ER to go………. 🙂 Thanks for journeying with me! 🙂

  • An Irish Toast!

    An Irish Toast!

     

    Baby 3 Announcement page 1

    Baby 3 Announcement page 2

    We are SO thrilled to announce we have another little life growing in my womb… Baby Trés Bien, due October 12, 2014!

    Why the nickname, you ask? Well, it’s just the only nickname that kept coming to mind when I found out we were pregnant. It’s baby number 3, which is where the “tres” came from. However, as many of you know, Brian speaks spanish with a French accent. Hence, the “tres” (trace) turned into “trés” (tray)…which, of course, must be followed by “bien” to complete the French phrase. How good our baby number 3 is!!! Trés bien!!

    Elliott’s reaction: Well, Elliott’s been asking for “another Selah” for a LOOONG time… 🙂 From time-to-time he would ask me, “You have a baby in your tummy?” Or he would say, “I want another Selah!” So, needless to say, we couldn’t wait to tell him the news. When we sat the kids on the couch to tell them, this was roughly the dialogue:

    Me: “Big guy, we have some fun news to tell you!”
    E: What?
    Me: We’re going to have another baby! You’re going to have another little brother or sister!
    E: Or like Selah. 
    Me. Well, the baby probably won’t be JUST like Selah, but it might be a little girl or it might be a little boy.
    E: Right now?
    Me: No, it’s gonna take 9 months…it’s gonna take a long time. So you’re going to have a birthday and then Selah is going to have a birthday–
    E: SELAH ALREADY HAD HER BIRTHDAY!
    Me: Well, you’re right–
    E: Why her have TWO birthdays??!!
     Me: Well, she’ll turn 2 years old for her NEXT birthday.
    (insert lots of talk about birthdays…) 🙂
    Me: The baby is in my tummy right now, but the baby is SO tiny. Over the next few months the baby is going to grow bigger and bigger and bigger.
    Brian: So in a few months Mommy’s tummy is going to be a lot bigger, and then you’ll know that the baby is growing big and strong inside Mommy.
    E: Big and strong like you! (pointing to Brian) And like me! And like ME!!! And like Selah.
    Me: Do you think the baby will be a boy or a girl?
    E: Um, a boy.
    Brian: Do you want a brother? A boy like Elliott? Or do you want a girl like Selah, another sister?
    E: Another Elliott.
    Brian: You want another Elliott? Buddy, that sounds so fun!
    E: And I want another Selah. Who’s his mommy?
    Me: Well, buddy, I’m going to be the baby’s mommy.
    E: He’s going to be a big boy, like me. And he wear these? (pointing to the jammies he had on)
    Me: Well, maybe one day, if the baby’s a boy, he can wear those clothes. But when the baby is born we’ll give the baby baby clothes to wear. 
    E: How the baby get in your tummy?
    Me: God put the baby there!
    E: Who be the baby’s daddy?
    Me: Daddy is the baby’s daddy. 
    E: Who will drive her?
    Me: Well, buddy, Daddy or I will drive the baby wherever he or she needs to go. 
     

    Selah sat on the couch next to Elliott yelling, “BABY!!!” at the top of her lungs periodically throughout the entire conversation :).

    So, stay tuned as we journey through another pregnancy as a family. October feels SOOOOOO far away, but hopefully with two littles running around and a summer to look forward to, the time will go by quickly. Click here to read about my first (real) month of pregnancy, even though it is officially “Month 2.”

    THANK YOU FOR REJOICING WITH US!!