Storms are bound to come. Some are harder and more powerful than others. Some are more devastating than others. Some last longer than others. Some teach us something. Sometimes that lesson is about survival, about how to weather the storm, and get through it. Sometimes the lesson is about how to come out on the other side stronger than you were before. Sometimes the lesson is about taking it moment by moment when you don’t know what’s going to happen, just to turn around and see that you made it.
The calm after the storm is such a beautiful thing: the winds and the rain stop, the waves calm down, the birds start chirping, and the sun breaks through the clouds in an undeniable display of perfect beauty. Rays of light touch the earth, right where the storm was raging not long ago. It’s a moment where you look back and see that you made it when you didn’t know if you would. Then, not always, but sometimes, there’s a rainbow. There’s a vivid and colorful sign stretched across the sky where you can’t miss it. It’s a sign that God was with you through it all. When the storm was raging, when fear and worry were present, when you didn’t know what was to come, he was there. His grace and presence were there, just as he promised.
We look back on some of the storms we’ve weathered as a couple, storms that brought grief and the loss of six embryo babies, and we see that we were never alone. We see God’s grace when we see the sun’s rays shining down, we see his grace when we see that God made us stronger through the storm, and we see his grace and mercy when we see a rainbow – both in the sky and in our arms.
We thank you God for allowing the hard, dark stormy days to make the rainbow that much sweeter.
I can’t believe you’ve known me since I was 16. I can’t believe we’ve been married for 13 years. I can’t believe we have a daughter! When I look around, I can’t believe this is my life. I take a picture with my mind’s eye and frame it.
When I hear songs about people looking back on their lives, wondering where that first love is now, I smile. I smile because I know right where you are. You’re standing in our living room at 2:45am rocking our tightly swaddled baby girl.
13 years looks different than any other anniversary. They’ve all been sweet, something we’ve looked forward to, and worthy of celebration. Some years have been sweet because we walked a hard road and our love was strengthened and we survived, learned, and grew together. But this year, year 13, is sweeter than we could have imagined.
There aren’t any candles or roses or lingerie this year (let’s just be honest). There are irrational tears (from me, not her… dang hormones). There aren’t any exotic getaways or weekend trips this year. There aren’t any extravagant gifts or large bouquets of flowers or lip stick notes on the mirror. There’s a kiss goodbye as you leave for work, with a sticky note on the watermelon container in your lunch, telling you how I feel about you, and these past 13 years. There’s God’s grace guiding us every step of the way. It’s his grace that has led us to this point. It’s by his grace we have memories to frame.
I love that you’ve known me since I was 16.
I love that you’re still my first love, and that I’m yours.
I love the pictures framed on my desk. They’re my favorite memories.
I love what this new season looks like.
I love that our marriage now includes a daughter. I always wanted a baby with you because I love you and I wanted to share this adventure with you. I wanted to see what a little of me + a little of you would look like. I wanted to see what you would be like as a dad to our baby. And this 13th year, I’ve been blessed to see it, to see you and her in our living room, swaying back and forth.
I love that the hard times, the tears, the loss, make the good times that much sweeter.
I love what this 13th year looks like.
One week ago he held my hand.
One week ago there was an unforgettable, joyous moment that we shared.
One week ago there was the birth of a little girl.
One week ago there was the birth of two people becoming parents.
One week ago at 4:11pm Noella Pearl DeAtley was born, joining our lives, and our family.
One week ago God’s grace was displayed.
One week ago love was born.
I tell him I can’t wait to see how little she’ll be in his arms.
He tells me I’ll always be his number one girl.
We can’t wait to see her little face in real life. Not just on the screen, or in the ultrasound picture – as absolutely amazing as that’s been.
We’ve had 12 years and 11 months together, just the two of us.
We’ve loved these years with just the two of us. We wouldn’t change them for the world. But we’re also excited and ready to take on this next chapter, for this whole new volume of love in our household.
We ask God to keep us close as a couple, and as a little family. We want to fall back on the lessons our marriage has taught us along the way. Lessons of communication and not assuming where the other person is coming from, lessons of grace (where there’s sleep deprivation, there’s a need for grace), lessons of forgiveness, lessons of choosing the other person before yourself. I want us to always say, “you’re my favorite” to each other as we always have. Because everyone wants to be someone’s favorite. I want him to still text me, “missing my girl” from work. Lately he’ll also text, “how are my girls?” and it’s the sweetest thing. I want us to find time to be together, to talk about the day, to put our marriage first. Because marriage is and always will be the foundation of our little family.
I don’t know what that will look like, of course. But these are things that are special to us. And the thing about bringing baby into the picture after 12 years and 11 months together is that we have been faced with so much life up to this point: changes, transitions, and ups and downs, that we can hopefully find our place as a family of three, as a couple with a baby. We know God’s grace will guide us, as it has before, in so many different situations.
We’re just days away now, and we can’t wait to hold this little girl that we’ve prayed and fought for. Come on baby! We’re ready when you are. XOXO.
Our house looks especially beautiful in the morning light. It comes in at just the right angle and shines in through the big window by the kitchen table.
We’re still stumbling around in awe that we actually own a house! It’s been so fun settling in, knowing we can actually settle, and not just ‘temporarily dwell’, and that we can make it our own. The boxes are slowly disappearing, we can see the floor, and the nursery has already been painted!
Shawn sits at the table each morning before work wearing his dress pants and dress shoes, and his white undershirt (the shirt and tie are a last-minute kind of thing). He looks so good sitting there, eating the breakfast burr-it-o (they say it in a slow three syllables here in west Texas) he made, and sipping his steaming coffee from the “S” mug I bought on clearance last week. I sit at the table in my pjs and watch him eat his breakfast, and I look down at how far away I am from the table, because my belly is so big I can’t scoot any closer.
I look at him, my belly, and the morning light shining in on our new house, and I ask him why life is so good right now. I ask him why God is blessing us so much right now.
I’m thankful he’s never shocked or offended by my questions. He just thinks for a second and responds, “God has always blessed us.”
He’s right. God has always blessed us, God has always offered us grace, provided for us, took good care of us, given us fun times, and special relationships. Things just look different now. His blessings are coming in the form of many answered prayers – and all at once!
For some reason my mind went to when we lived in the village. It was a long, hard year in many ways. Maybe that’s why my mind went there: if God was blessing us now, was God blessing us then, too, like Shawn said he was? Even when it was hard? My mind went to our puppy Roxy and what an absolute joy she was to us. She was a comfort when I was sad that there was no doctor, let alone a fertility specialist, and we couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t get pregnant, even after six years. God provided a place for us to live. Even though we didn’t have running water, he provided a sweet lady who we could pay to help get water from the well, and from that a friendship developed. When we were discouraged with ministry, God provided a way for friends (and some people we didn’t even know!) to all pitch in and fly us home for Christmas. It was by his grace we found a pool where we could go and cool off, and buy ice cold Cokes in a bottle.
God hasn’t left our sides, even through the ups and downs, the transitions, the years of waiting, and not only that, he’s blessed us along the way. His character is beyond what we can figure out. We just have to trust him. In both the good and hard times.
And when we look around, and all we see are evident blessings, we throw our hands up and say, “Thank you.” We also have to remember that his blessings are nothing new. Sometimes we just have to look for them.
After so many years of not knowing if I’d ever be pregnant, I told myself that if the day ever came, I would appreciate and embrace every milestone, and that I would try really hard not to worry. Because if I was pregnant, that would mean that God had worked in big and unimaginable ways. If I was pregnant, that would mean that we had beat 10+ years of infertility (and the grief / pain that came with it). So why would I waste any time worrying when we had crossed the divide into what we could have only hoped for.
While we have embraced every change and milestone with glee, the worry has been a little more challenging for me to fight off at times.
With every step into the unknown, there’s the possibility for worry, and with every potential to worry, there’s an opportunity to trust. Even when it feels risky. As in, a high risk pregnancy. As in, we worked hard to get here. What if something happens? What if God brought us this far to teach us another (unwelcome) lesson on loss and grief?
When baby girl was just five days post-conception floating around in my belly as a microscopic blastocyst (it will never get old thinking back to how we got a front row seat to that), I would ask Shawn, “What’s the baby doing in there?” “She’s doing what she’s supposed to be doing.” He’d say, with that firm assurance that I love so much about him. He said the same thing when I wondered, worried, or doubted what was happening in the first few quiet weeks of pregnancy, when I didn’t even “feel” pregnant yet. “What’s the baby doing in there?” “She’s doing what she’s supposed to be doing.” And he was right. She was doing exactly what she was supposed to be doing. She was growing.
Now, in my 32nd week of pregnancy, having seen so many beautiful milestones unfold before us, I still ask sometimes, in a shy voice, with his big hand suddenly making my big belly seem small, “What’s she doing in there?” I wonder if she’s moving enough, if she’s where she needs to be, if she’s growing on track, and I question what’s happening when all is calm and there’s no movement. “She’s doing what she’s supposed to be doing”, he reassures me, knowing how many prayers are behind this belly, and the anxiousness we feel to hold her one day soon.
From day one, to a growing baby at 7, 12, and 16 weeks of pregnancy, to where we are now, she’s been in the palm of God’s hand.
Even when the hardships of the past threaten to make me fear the outcome of the future, she’s secure in God’s hands. I choose faith over fear, because no matter how we feel, or what risks play with my mind, faith trumps fear. If we allow it. So we take that, and walk boldly into the unknown of growing a baby we’ve prayed so hard for.
I found this swaddle blanket at Magnolia in Waco, when we were there last month. I love it so much. I love seeing her as a little embryo on this blanket, and her little ultrasound profile (sucking her thumb – SWOON), but I really can’t wait to see her newborn self on it. In faith, we move one more day closer to that day.
The world would call us TTC (trying to conceive) sisters, which I roll my eyes at. I guess I don’t like to be put in a box. Especially one with cheesy acronyms. But it’s amazing how many of these ‘sisters’ I’ve met since we moved back to the US.
There’s a common connection and we just… happen to meet. Sometimes it’s at work, sometimes it’s online, sometimes it’s through a friend of a friend, and sometimes it’s the girl you’re talking to while having your nails done. Of course chance isn’t involved at all. It’s God aligning our paths. When we were in the deep waters of treatments and tests, I didn’t really cross paths with anyone in a similar boat as we found ourselves. It was lonely. It was hard. Maybe God used that time to soften this mean ol’ heart so that I can shed compassion more easily now. Who knows.
But these friends that I meet have blessed me so much. I just FaceTimed with a friend of a friend for an hour and a half about the IVF process. We talked about the big, intimidating protocol they hit you with, the numbers, dates, and dosages highlighted, and how it’s scary, but in many ways freeing to open up about the hardships of infertility.
It encourages me to talk to them because it brings up the past, it brings up what did and didn’t work for us, and how God worked along the way. These things may never escape our memories, but they tend to dull a little bit if we don’t bring them back up, or think about them from time to time.
When I re-tell our story, I’m often reminded at how amazing some of the smaller details are. For example, this new friend was asking if we found an OB we liked here in San Angelo. I was reminded how that all came about. It was during such a busy time that I don’t think I really paid enough attention to it. We just found out that I was pregnant, we were packing up our whole house, and moving from Wyoming to Texas in a matter of 7 days. Holy cow! Meanwhile, I was still under the IVF care at my clinic in Denver, and they were managing my dosages, etc. They wanted me to find an OB in San Angelo as soon as we arrived. As in, a day or two after we arrived. We were moving to a place we had never even visited before, and we didn’t know a soul! How was I supposed to know which OB or hospital to go to? So I got on Google (as one does) and looked up OBs in the area, glanced at one or two reviews, and thought, “She should work. And if not, I’ll find another doctor later on.” So I called and made an appointment for the day after we were to arrive. Long story short, we love our doctor. Her care has been amazing. She is spoken highly of in the community, she’s dealt with IVF patients, and the issues that make me high risk (Factor V, risk of blood clots), and she’s the perfect kind of laid back/prepared that we didn’t know we needed. So talking back through all of that, and seeing how this new doctor and staff worked long-distance with my IVF clinic for the few weeks that I was weaning off my meds, I realize that things could have gone very differently. It could have been a doctor or a situation that we didn’t like. But it wasn’t.
In talking with these friends, with these ‘sisters’ who are in a place I’m all too familiar with, I’m reminded that God goes with us through the hard times. I’m reminded that he’s in the story, he’s in every outcome, and I’m reminded that he’s the God of chance encounters meet-ups that were meant to be.
Friends, I’m praying for you as you move forward in this treatment. I’m praying that God will be your peace when you’re tempted to worry about the outcome and the results. I’m praying your circle of family and friends will be encouraging, that you’ll find someone who can be there for you (drive you to appointments, text to see how you’re doing, bring you soup when your almond-size ovaries are the size of oranges and you’re exhausted), and I’m praying for God to work in big, and unexpected ways through this upcoming treatment. You’re not alone.
I know, I know. It’s hard to believe that we moved back from Africa TWO years ago. A lot has happened in two years. You can say that again! But more than the moves, the different transitions, ‘IVF take 4’, the miracle baby, and the lessons we’ve learned along the way, we’ve seen God’s hand leading and guiding us. When we boarded that plane to move back two years ago, having no earthly idea where we’d end up living or what we’d be doing, we would have never imagined that we’d be where we are today. His grace has followed us. His grace has been sufficient for us.
Over these past two (whirlwind) years…
– We’ve lived in three states. Colorado, Wyoming, and now Texas. [Click on highlighted words to read a blog post.]
– We’ve enjoyed the occasional video chat or phone call with our African friends. It’s always a good way to brush up on our French, too. Technology continues to make the world feel just a little bit smaller. But often times, not small enough.
– I gathered a lifetime of stories working as a caregiver in Cheyenne, and now I’m meeting some great people from our new community making smoothies at the hospital’s health club. It’s the perfect for-right-now laid back job.
– It seems like no matter where we live we cross paths with French-speaking Africans. I met one in San Angelo just last week! SO cool! I could tell by the way he was walking and his mannerisms that he had to be from Africa. Sure enough.
– We’re expecting a BABY in August! We’re still amazed. And grateful more than we could ever express.
– We’ve made up for lost time by traveling around our own country: Steamboat Springs, Denver, Bad Lands, Mount Rushmore, Deadwood, Vegas, Waco, the Grand Canyon, Nags Head, Whitestone, Tennessee, Austin, Fredricksburg, San Antonio, Blackhawk, and Alaska.
– We continue to take in (and not take advantage of): running water, berries, AC, the English language, seasons, sidewalks and grass, being in the same country as our families, pork, good pizza, you know, little American luxuries like that.
– Shawn started a career with Denver Mattress in Greeley, Colorado (my hometown!) where we were living when we first moved back. Again, we were transitioning from ten years as full-time missionaries, with 6 of those years serving overseas. We had NO idea what was next or what we’d do, or how long it would take for us to find a job. God opened the door for Shawn to start working at Denver Mattress, fast forward to today, and he’s now the manager of his own store here in San Angelo. It’s been so cool to see God’s provision for us since we’ve moved back. It was a theme I wrote about last year at our one-year “Ameriversary”.
– We have a house under contract! Woohoo! This is another big dream we’ve had for many years, but when you’re a missionary living all over the place, well, it’s not always an option. But here we are! Getting settled, and signing a mountain of paperwork with great anticipation.
This is no doubt a sweet, and exciting time for us. All we can do is turn and say, “Thank you, God.” We can’t explain the hard times, and we can’t explain the good times. We can’t explain why God does what he does when he does. But we know that he is always good. We can trust his character. With him on our side, thefuture is bright (song by Tenth Avenue North).
As a follow-up from this blog post, here’s another except from my IVF journal:
It’s 9:14pm, just four days before Christmas. It’s the evening before my first of two beta blood tests. The test that will initially tell if I’m pregnant or not. I am feeling more excitement than fear. I’m feeling more excitement than I thought I would the eve before our big day. Tomorrow could go one of two ways. I’ve been on and off nervous since the transfer, which is to be expected, and completely normal (if you ask me). I’ve been nervous wondering what’s going to happen, if it will work or not. I’ve been curious, always curious, what the embryo is up to in there- knowing we transferred it, but not knowing much more than that. I’ve been nervous for “the” phone call. The one where they call to give you the results. I know how these calls have gone in the past. But this isn’t the past. This is a new day, with a new hope. At least that’s what I’ve been trying to focus on. I’m ready for some good news. I’m ready for a congratulatory phone call this time, with positive results. I’m ready for tomorrow to be a day we’ll never forget. I’m ready for this to be a Christmas where we see a miracle unfold before our eyes. I’m ready for the news that a baby is coming in August. Tomorrow’s the day we find out the results of this long IVF process. I’m excited, nervous, anxious, and hopeful. God, we pray for you to hold us tight as we walk, once again, into the unknown. We pray for a miracle. We pray that 12/22 will be a very special day in our lives as Shawn & Jenn.
12:10pm Blood work for beta test #1 is in, and now we wait. NO BIG DEAL. Just waiting by the phone all day to find out if I’m pregnant or not. *Heavy sigh*. A lot of time, energy, money, hopes, dreams, continued efforts, prayers, pain, and hard work have led us to this point. There’s nothing we can do now but wait, hope for the best, and try not to go crazy wondering what the results are going to be!
4:01pm “The call” came later in the day than I would have liked. The phone call with the results came late because the lab was down. Shawn (at work) and I were ON EGG SHELLS ALL DAY waiting for that call. After lunch with Jamie, and stopping in to see Shawn at work, I went to Target to walk around and kill some time. And then it came. THE CALL OF ALL CALLS. Nurse: “How are you, Jennifer?” Me: “Anxious!!” Nurse: “Oh, ok! Sorry about the delay, our lab was down. But it’s good news! You’re definitely pregnant!” Me: *freezes in the magazine aisle of Target*. “Really?!?! *Begins to tear up and laugh with joy.* “WOW!” Then the nurse went on and said it was a really strong first beta, over 200. (Anything under 5 is negative.) I was (still am!) stunned. Overjoyed!!! I decided to go surprise Shawn in person since I was still in the neighborhood. When I pulled into Denver Mattress, he wasn’t with a customer, thankfully, because I really didn’t want to have to leave and come back, or to tell him over text. We went right into his office, he closed the door and I said with all the excitement in the world, “I’m pregnant!!” He was so, so, so happy. We were both in shock. He kissed my belly and had tears in his eyes. The dream is becoming a reality. Our Christmas wish, our Christmas miracle, HAS ARRIVED.
May the sharing of our story dare you to hope, to dream, to keep praying, to keep climbing. May it remind you that your story is not over yet. May it show you that God is always at work- through the sweet and the bitter times, he is there, he is God, is able.
I try not to appear too desperate. I try not to be a stalker and follow people on Instagram two seconds after meeting them. I try not to wear my “let’s be friends” trucker hat too often. (J/K I don’t have one. No but really, guys, if anyone has one… I’ll take it.) I try not to be too in-your-face with the get-to-know-you questions. But also… I can’t help it! We’re new here, and naturally, we’re looking for friends. More than that, we’re looking for a community. We’re looking for family. (Because our family in Colorado and our family in Ohio are just a little too far away!)
With our 14 previous moves as a couple, we: 1.) didn’t know how long we’d be living there, and 2.) we were placed into somewhat of a pre-existing community (with the exception of living in the village). If the move was for Bible college or part of our missions training, we had instant community, if it was for French school, we met classmates (aka: insta-friends) people in the same boat as we were, and with the same schedule as us. If the move was for overseas missions, we had co-workers, fellow missionaries, and others we’d be working and living amongst to befriend. See what I mean? A natural community was often a part of it for us. That doesn’t mean instant friendships were born, or that it was always that easy, it just means that we had a natural place to meet people in a common place as us.
Rewind to our move to Greeley, Colorado and it was easy (despite the transition / reverse-culture shock side of things) because for the first time ever (since I was married), I was living near my family. Plus we reconnected with some of my high school / longtime friends and their spouses, and it was pretty easy. We found ourselves in a great small group which was clearly meant to be. Then we moved to Cheyenne, Wyoming, and we knew then that it was just a temporary place for us, as we were waiting for Shawn to get a promotion. We knew that the next place that brought Shawn the promotion to manager would be our final stop as far as we knew. It would be a place where we’d settle. With 110ish possible places it could have been across the USA (spoiler alert: we ended up in Texas), we prayed and prayed that God would bring us to the right town, with the right community, and the right church, and the right friends.
It feels so good to be where we’re planning to be for the unforeseeable future (albeit foreign to our former nomadic lifestyle). It feels good to settle somewhere for once. To have a go-to Mexican restaurant and a church we now call home.
But because we’re planning to stay, and because our family is growing, and because we don’t have family here, I’m feeling extra “rushed” to find friends. Not just people we know in the community, but people who text me random tidbits about their day. People who know what’s going on in our lives. People who come over for burgers on the grill and invite us to the lake. You know?
Living in Africa taught me a lot about friendship. You have to work at it, number one. You have to make the effort to find and keep friends. Both parties need to ‘gain’ something from the friendship. For example, in Senegal Fatou helps me with my French, and I buy a kilo of her mangoes. We both win. Expats become friends because I have the rare Reese’s Pieces that we all want/miss/can’t find, and you have AC in your living room. Also, neither of us have family here, and we’re both learning how to adapt to life in this host culture, so a deeper and possibly faster bond is formed.
So that leaves me with a lot of thoughts about friendship in this context here. In the context of being back in the USA, and in the context of being in Texas. What do people ‘gain’ from being my friend? I know what I gain because I’m new here, and we need those family-type friends who you get together with for a fun 4th of July shindig. It leaves me with questions about how many friends one needs. How do Americans make and keep friends? Are we too busy? Do people just click? Is there a chance that someone with family and friends and an established community still needs another friend? How do guys connect?
With every move, and every new place we’ve lived, God has provided amazing friendships for us. He’s provided friends for me, friends for Shawn, couple-friends, older friends for the seasons when we really needed them, life-long friends you text about anything and nothing (or just a funny meme), friends who have taught us something, friends we’ve grown with, and friends who have shaped the people we are today.
We know that God has friends for us here. We know because those friendships have already started to form into something sweet and unexpected. I had lunch at a really good Thai restaurant with a new friend last week. That’s a milestone moment for me because we moved here just a few months ago knowing exactly zero people. We have a small group of friends already wanting to throw us a baby shower. I had coffee with a super cool girl from church recently. All of this is God’s grace as we continue to settle. It takes time. It takes putting some of these lessons and observations about friendship into practice. And… it may take a trucker hat about friendship. Just sayin’.