Feliz Cumpleaños a Nathaniel

Happy Happy 4th Birthday, Nathaniel!

This is the first time we have celebrated Nathaniel's birthday in the U.S., so it felt extra special. While we enjoyed having our own family around, it was a bit sad to think that our friends in Nicaragua would be missing his birthday for the first time.

We had a piñata (of course!!), which the boys were quite excited about. We played some Nicaraguan worship songs while getting the food ready (shish kabobs, burgers, hot dogs, mashed potatoes) and enjoyed chatting with family while the cousins played together.

Nathaniel takes a shot at the piñata. The winter coats added a "special" touch :)












Kabobs on the grill, mmmmmm....

























My first 3-D cake. It was a bit intimidating, but turned out better than I expected. One word of advice: Use the office clips to make sure the two halves do NOT come apart!



It is amazing to look over the past 4 years and see where God has brought us. You see, Nathaniel means "gift from God"; he is literally our miracle child.

After our baby girl died, we had another unexpected pregnancy a few short months later. This child was not to be, however, as the doctors discovered it to be a very rare and life-threatening ectopic. After several surgeries, blood transfusions, ambulance rides and ICU stays, the doctors recommended that we not have any more children. It would be too dangerous, for both the baby and myself.

The problem was that my uterus had been badly damaged from the ectopic. There was a high risk of uterine rupture with any future pregnancy. And when the uterus ruptures, the baby usually dies. And if the mother is not in the hospital when it happens, the mother dies from massive internal bleeding. Pretty serious stuff.

We checked with several specialists, even going to the chair of the perinatology department in Hershey Medical Center. He only asked me: Would I be willing to die for a chance at another baby? Would I be willing to leave my husband without a wife and my toddler without a mother? He did not recommend another pregnancy.

We were devastated. Devastated.

We felt so alone and torn apart at the seams. Where did we fit in? We couldn't go to infertility groups for support, because getting pregnant was not an issue. We found ourselves in a strange state, a place where we could get pregnant easily, but were told not to. It was a very dark and depressing time for us.

We spent a lot of time on our knees, praying and asking God what we should do. What His will was for us.

Six months later, we found ourselves pregnant again, much to our doctors chagrin. But we felt confident that God would protect us. Protect us meaning, that the baby would be okay. I was prepared to have a hysterectomy, knowing it was a very real risk.

However, we were not prepared to hear what the doctors had to say. The doctors did an ultrasound right away, to see how things looked. Later that day, the doctor called me and told me that the heartbeat was very slow. Too slow. Too slow meaning that I should expect to miscarry. I listened in stunned belief. My heart stopped. I had no words.

Did we not hear God correctly? Did we make a mistake?

We questioned God, we questioned our faith, we questioned our sanity.

Meanwhile, a nurse called and told me to call them "when it happened". They didn't even schedule another OB appointment for me, so sure were they of their diagnosis.

So we waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And 6 weeks later, I was still pregnant and ready to go into my 2nd trimester.

I called the doctor's office and asked if I should schedule another appointment. I don't think "surprised" accurately explains their reaction.

The pregnancy was stressful, to say the least. I was ready to be done with the whole 9 months and have a baby in my arms. God and I talked a lot. And it was lonely. Few people knew how to support us. They wanted to be happy for us, but I struggled with fear on a daily basis. I couldn't read pregnancy magazines or think about preparing the nursery. I didn't really want to talk about being pregnant. I was in denial, in a strange sort of way. It was the only way I knew how to deal with the stress of it all. It was difficult for our friends and family too, I'm sure.

I started having regular contractions around 32 weeks, and by 35 weeks was having significant pain. I went in for my regular appointment and the doctors were fairly upset at the amount of pain and contractions I was having. They mentioned that I should have been on bed rest during the whole third trimester. An ultrasound was done, revealing an exceptionally thin uterine wall. But the problem is, nobody knows HOW thin it gets before rupturing. An amniocentesis was done, but the baby was not quite ready.

So the doctors decided to wait. A C-section was scheduled in another week, but I had a feeling I was not going to make it.

3 days later, I awoke with an urgency in my brain and a clear voice telling me to get to the hospital. I knew God was speaking to me. My pain had increased dramatically overnight.

So we went to the hospital and what do you know? My uterus ruptured in the OR, before the doctor had a chance to open me up. I was 36 weeks that day. I wondered what had happened when the normally talkative nurses suddenly quieted. I've learned that quiet is never a good sign.

Although our son had to remain in the NICU for 8 days due to respiratory distress, I thank God and give Him all the glory for giving us another son. That is why, 4 days after he was born, we named him "Nathaniel". God is still in the business of doing miracles.