It's a Wonderful Life.

I'm moving forward. Some days I cry, some days I laugh. Most days I do both. I am adjusting to not being pregnant anymore and I'm adjusting to going from happy to devastated at the drop of a hat or the kind words of a friend or the sympathy card in the mailbox. I am moving forward through grief and loss, but I am also embracing joy and hope.

Christmas is almost upon us and the tree is up. The twinkling lights pull me right back to childhood. The familiar carols that never grow old brighten my spirits and bring movement to my feet. There are so many happy moments in this season that keep me smiling. The tears are still never far, but lately neither is the smile--and for that irony, I am thankful.

My hands are always full with my three wonderful kids. I love them so much and even more each day.

My hubby and I watched "It's a Wonderful Life" the other day.  I hadn't seen it in years. As we sat down to watch, the first thing I said was "Why don't they make a new one of this movie? It's so old!" But then as we got into it, I realized I know why they haven't made a new one. They don't need to. It's so pure and raw. It's so well done. I found myself getting so lost in it. And now as a parent, I understand so much of George Bailey's feelings all the more.

When Bryan and I met, we were at missions college. We had big dreams and big plans. We wanted to travel the world, preach the Gospel, get our hands dirty. We kept those plans and dreams well into our first years of marriage. We faced set backs and redirections but we kept the same vision. "Take the Gospel to the ends of the earth." And then we boarded that plane for South Africa. We landed and we hit the ground running. But an unexpected second child was on the way and the bank account was emptying. Our dream crumbled to dust right in our hands and we were lost. We came back to the States with a couple of suitcases and a couple of kids. We were confused. This wasn't the path we set out on. Bryan took a job he never wanted and I settled in at home to raise our kids. Far from the African continent and further from our starry eyed dreams.

A couple states and another kid later, and we still aren't where we thought we'd be. I don't know if the dreams that were whispered to our hearts will ever come true, but we are waiting on God. We have a lot of nights like George Bailey had. A lot of nights where everything goes wrong and we ask--just like George-- "Why did we have to have all these kids" and  "Why do we have to live in this crummy little town?"

But what if we didn't have it? What if the mess and the cribs and spills and the crayon covered walls and the dirty diapers and the crying at 1 am.. what if it was all gone?

What if Peyton with her clear blue eyes and her wild blond mane and her constant questions and her never ending passion and her constant asking to paint and her forgetting to pick up the crayons and her getting up seven times out of bed to ask for water and her "I love you Mommy" and her helping with cooking and her caring for her siblings and her dancing around the house with her party dress and her bouncing curls and her graceful movements... What if she was gone?

And what if Britany with her pudgy little hands and her smooth olive skin and her "mommy, help!" and her tearing of books and her spilling of milk and her smeared banana hands and her deep chocolate eyes and her full pink lips and her running nose and her little accident prone body and her slobbery kisses and the way she curls up in my arms and melts into me.... What if she never existed?

And what if Hunter who pulls at my hair and wakes me at 1 with his constant demand for my attention and his fussiness when I'm my most tired and his big blue eyes and his charming big grin and cuddles and his squirming and his putting everything in his mouth that he shouldn't and his screaming at me from across the room to hold him when all I want are 5 minutes of peace and his happy little face when I reach for him and the feel of his silky soft cheeks and the joy I feel when he reaches for me from across a room.... What if I'd never known him?



See, my life may have turned out quite differently from how I thought, or planned, or even dreamed. But my life is wonderful. And I wouldn't trade any of it for all the lofty dreams and sparkle in my teenage eyes. I never knew then what I know now. Love. The love of a marriage, the love of a family, and the wonderful life that those things have brought me.

God knows what He's doing. And, for the most part, we don't.

Just so you know, Part 2 will be delayed.

A few people have asked me when I'm going to post part 2 of Hunter's story. I have to be honest with you and say, I'm not sure when.

What I will say is that Hunter was able to leave the NICU and come home to us on March 28th-- 13 days after he was born. I want to say thank you all for the continued prayers, love and support you extended to us during such a dark time. Hunter is thriving at home, and is gaining weight even faster than his doctors had hoped! He is a happy and content little one month old :) Looking at his perfect little face you'd never know what he's been through already.

The reason I'm not posting part 2 just yet, is because since Hunter has been released from the NICU, our home has been filled with more laughter, joy, contentment and peace than we have had in a while. Each time I sat down at my computer to type out the darkest moments of our journey, I simply couldn't face the sadness. It's not a tempting choice to face all that pain when you're standing in a place of so much happiness. Does that make sense? Hunter's time in the NICU was the hardest thing we've been through. We dealt with possibilities that we've never even before had to think about. We dealt with emotions that we hadn't even dreamt up in our worst nightmares. The scary reality of possibly losing a child was so painful, that frankly, I'm just not ready to re-live it all.

So for now, I want to let you into the joyful part of Hunter's life rather than the painful part. One day I will type it out... mainly because I do want Hunter to one day know in full the road he's walked and the amazing things God has done for him and through him already. But for now, I want to dwell in this place of happiness and remarkable gratitude. Because this is how we face Hunter's life.

Hunter's Birth Story & Journey Home (Part 1)

It's taken me 11 days to even tell you that my son was born. 

That's because those 11 days have been the most intense, most sobering, most heart breaking and yet most faith growing days of my life.

Hunter Zion Flores was born on Thursday, March 15 at 6:53 pm. 

He was born at 35 weeks, 3 days gestation.

He was 6 pounds, 4 ounces and 20 inches long.

One hour after birth, Hunter was taken to the NICU (neo-natal intensive care unit) in 

respiratory distress. 

As I write this post, he is still not discharged. 

Please join me in prayer that my son will soon be home in my arms. 

His journey is already a long one with many parts and pieces. 

I've only begun to scratch the surface of writing them down, but I know that one day I will want to remember. Not the heartache of it all, but the triumphs. 

I want to remember the faithfulness of God and the gentleness of His heart towards us in this time.

This is part 1 of Hunter Zion's story:

My darling little boy, 

I wanted to write this all out while it is still fresh in my mind. You are only 3 days old, and already so much has happened since your birth that is clouding my memory. I want to write this all down so that one day, we can read it together and I can tell you about the great things that God did in your life from the very start. 

You were conceived last August. Your life was intended to be, sweet boy. God placed you in my womb with His very hands and spoke you into existence. My love for you began growing the moment I learned you were inside of me. 

When your daddy and I found out you were a little boy, we were overjoyed! I don’t think I’ve ever seen your daddy stand taller! We were so excited to know that a son would be joining our family. We began praying that God would give us a name for you. A name that was strong and firm, that represented who you would be. We knew we wanted you to be Hunter. We loved the masculinity of the name and the way it rolled off our tongues. We loved that it meant seeker, pursuer. We began to pray to ask God what your middle name should be. We wanted a name that would complete your first name well. What would it be that you would seek? After what would you chase? One night, your father and I were praying about your life. God lead us to several passages in Scripture that talked about seeking God on his holy mountain. Mount Zion. We knew then that you would be called Hunter Zion--Seeker of God’s Holy Mountain. Pursuer of God’s presence. 

My pregnancy with you went well. I felt really good for most of the pregnancy and was enjoying feeling you move and watching you grow. Twice while I was pregnant with you, I did bleed a little bit and it frightened me. I didn’t want to lose you. Both times I got on my knees and asked God to keep you safe. Both times He responded and stopped the bleeding. 

You were such an active baby in my womb. I felt you rolling and kicking and flipping and punching. You got the hiccups often which were so fun to feel! I started to learn your patterns--when you would sleep and when you were most wide awake. After your big sisters were in bed for the night, you would come most alive. It was like you knew you had Mommy & Daddy all to yourself and were ready to show off for us! We loved that special time with you. 

When I was about 7 months along with you, I started to feel a little itchy. I was concerned because while I was pregnant with both your sisters, I had a condition called “Cholestasis” which made my liver enzymes go a little off balance. It’s a dangerous condition that, if not treated, can cause babies to die in the womb. I got tested for it, but was told that I did not have it. I breathed a sigh of relief, yet wondered why the itching continued. A couple of weeks later I asked to be tested again. I felt like the itching was getting worse. My doctors confirmed that yes, I did indeed have Cholestasis. (I was about 34 weeks along.) As the week went by, my itching only worsened. The medication they had given me wasn’t seeming to help at all, and I was miserable. I went for another test to check the levels of bile acid in my blood. We waited three days for the test results to come back in. Those three days, I didn’t sleep hardly at all. My skin crawled and itched so much that I tore into my skin trying to get relief. Through those days, however, I thanked God that you remained active and healthy inside of me. I went two times to have you monitored so we could confirm that you were still okay. You were perfect. On Tuesday morning, March 13th, my doctor called me to let me know that my levels were dangerously high. The risk level of Cholestasis dramatically increases at level 40, and I was at level 88. It was no longer safe for you to remain inside my womb. In order to make sure that you would be alright, they had to induce my labor. They wanted to wait 48 hours in order to give you steroids that would hopefully help in maturing your lungs. As soon as those steroids were given, they would induce. 

All kinds of thoughts began to run through my brain. On one hand, I was so excited that I would finally look at your face and hold you in my arms in only 2 days. But at the same time, I was terrified. I was only 35 weeks along… you would be born a month early. I knew that there were a lot of risks that went with having a baby so early, but unfortunately the risks were greater of you staying inside my womb. Although they can try, there really is no way to know for sure whether a baby with Cholestasis is going to live or die from one day to the next. The heart beat can be strong one day, and gone the next. For your safety, and for mine, you had to come into the world much sooner than expected.

I prepared myself for your arrival. I busied myself working in your room and eating healthy meals to prepare for labor. I prayed and prayed over you and dreamt of you each time I was able to sleep. 

On Thursday morning, March 15th, we got a phone call asking us to be at the hospital at 10:30 am. We kissed your sisters and left them with your grandma. We got in the car and prepared ourselves to finally meet our beautiful son. We prayed over you unceasingly. The sun was shining brightly and it was so warm for a March morning. 

When we got to the hospital, things were moving more slowly than we expected. It took some time to fill out all the paperwork, talk with the nurses and midwife, and discuss options for starting labor. We agreed to have my water broken and then we would see if labor would begin from there. I was 4-5 cm dilated and 80% effaced when we came in. Your head was at +1 station. My midwife broke my water and immediately I was exactly 5 cm and 90%. After my water was broken, we agreed to wait for labor. A couple of hours went by with nothing more than a few small contractions. We continued to wait. Your daddy and I walked around the hospital in hopes that would help things move forward. We enjoyed looking out the big windows in the birthing center and seeing the bright sun shine through the windows. 

Finally around 4:00 we realized that labor wasn’t coming as quickly as we thought it would. And because at this point, we knew it was safer for you to be out than in, we decided to start Pitocin (a drug that helps induce labor) Once pitocin began, labor came quickly and painfully. The contractions were fast and furious. I knew I wanted an epidural, but I wanted to wait. I was in so much pain, but I knew the pain was bringing you closer and closer to me.

Finally after a lot of pain, when the contractions were so close together that I could barely catch my breath between them, they ordered the epidural for me. I had a lot of contractions while they were trying to place it, which all made it very difficult to sit still. Finally, once the epidural was placed, I was able to lean back and focus on you coming into the world. I continued to feel my contractions, however, and the anesthesiologist confirmed that my body was moving faster than the epidural. You were coming quickly. 

Not long after, I felt ready to push. I pushed only three times, but it was fast and intense. Pushing you out was extremely painful and I couldn’t help but yell out. Just when I thought the pain couldn’t get any worse, I felt the rush of your body leaving mine. When the midwife placed you on my chest, I gasped at the sight of you. You were so beautiful. Your cries filled my heart with joy and I allowed my body to relax after all the work I had just done.

I cuddled you in my arms and cherished your scent and the feel of your warm little body. I hushed you as you cried and stroked your sweet head. We cuddled like that for about an hour. I didn’t tear at all when you were born so we were able to really enjoy that time together. Daddy kissed your head and we both gazed into your eyes. You were so alert and obviously taking in the sights of the new world around you. 

When you were about an hour old, the nurses agreed you should be weighed. From there, things happened so quickly. I remember rejoicing when they told me you were 6 lbs 4 oz. I couldn’t believe how big you were for being so early. I was so happy that you were strong. Then all of a sudden, I remember seeing more and more people come in to the room. My pediatrician was one of them. The next thing I knew, she was telling me that you had to be taken to the NICU. You weren’t breathing well. My intense joy suddenly turned to fear… Suddenly they were placing you in my arms and telling me to say goodbye. The tears fell as I kissed your head. “Probably 24-48 hours.” They told me. They might as well have said it would be a lifetime. My arms immediately felt empty and so did my heart.

Your daddy went with them to take you to the NICU. Suddenly I was alone with my midwife and your pediatrician. They were comforting me, patting my legs and telling me you would be just fine. My eyes blurred from the tears and suddenly the pain of the labor I’d just endured felt nothing compared to the pain in my heart.

I asked if I could go see you as soon as I was cleaned up. They said of course. As I was getting ready to leave, they gave me some medication through my IV to help stop the itching from the Cholestasis. As soon as the medication went into my IV, I started to feel faint. I couldn’t focus and I was so dizzy. I felt like I was going to vomit or fall over, I wasn’t sure which. The nurse helped me get back in bed, and I laid there, frightened and wishing only to see you.

After what seemed like forever,  I opened my eyes and felt like things were a little clearer. I was still feeling light headed, but I was better enough to go see you in the NICU.

To be continued soon in Part 2.