Walk With Me

*This is a personal post with potential emotional triggers. 

Living in a developing country presents new aspects of life that I had never experienced growing up in a developed country. Clean drinking water straight from the faucet, trash truck pick up twice a week, good medical care, and food always available at local stores are a few of those advantages. It's now normal to drink the filtered water and a having a grocery list rarely gets accomplished in one spot. The realm of medical was always on the back burner of my reality- I knew it was there and had heard stories from others of their personal experiences, but really was never impacted by it.

We were told by Fiona that we needed to go get an ultrasound at the pharmacy (apotik) in the next town over. We were told that due to a death in his family he would not be practicing that night and for us to come the next day. Sure... the next day... wait, but I want to know now (developed country mindset).

So we returned to the same local pharmacy that did the ultrasound for Kate.

To make an appointment you have to physically put your name on a list and wait until the doctor comes and calls your name. It's almost like a walk-in clinic, but there's a rank and order. We dropped Kate off with a close friend, because we didn't know how long we would be waiting. The wait was short. The lack of privacy is a reality- the assistant told me to take off my pants and underwear. She was holding a blanket by her legs, but wasn't using it to cover me. "This is normal here. This is normal here." The doctor did two types of ultrasounds. The machine was grainy and undefined. During the second ultrasound he asked me repeatedly if I was pregnant or if I had taken a pregnancy test and even at one point said there was no baby there. We finally found the baby, but there was no way we could tell if there was a heartbeat. He attempted to run the Doppler, which shows the heartbeats of momma and baby. There were no heartbeats to be heard, and I'm certain that I had an active heartbeat. Feeling like there were no answers given, we returned home to wait until the next evening. 

The next day (Friday) we went to the apotik we were originally meant to go to. We registered, got some dinner, and came back to wait and people-watch, which is really just you watching other people who are watching you! The machine was beautiful- clear, modern, and reliable. The doctor found the baby on the first touch down of the ultrasound thingy on my belly. There was our baby tucked away safely. He was immediately able to tell there was no heartbeat and explained that the baby had died. It was a brief experience. No sympathy. No time for crying. Just facts and more facts of what was to come. The doctor recommended taking care of things immediately and wrote a script for admittance to the hospital on Monday. 

We didn't go on Monday. Instead we took the weekend to process things and make decisions. My body was showing no signs of miscarriage. No cramping, no bleeding, nothing other than the disappearance of pregnancy symptoms. Fiona said we could take our time. My back burner thoughts of medical care here was quickly becoming a reality that I couldn't avoid. I weighed the pros and cons of having a natural miscarriage vs a DNC at the local hospital. My main concerns were my personal pain level and what to do with the baby after the baby passed. Through prayer and seeking advice from Josh and others, I decided that the procedure at the local hospital would be the best fit for me. 

Instead of going to the hospital on Monday, we went to Fiona for one final ultrasound just to make sure we were not terminating life. There was no beat, and we decided to go to the hospital on Friday. 

The Beginning of Processing It All

Tired. All the time tired. 

Nauseous. A little of the time nauseous. 

Pregnant? 

Test.

How do you read this thing?? 

Yes. 2 lines = pregnant, even in Indonesian. 

We arranged for an appointment with our lovely midwife, Fiona. This is the second time Fiona has seen a photo of my pregnancy tests to confirm. Kate and I went to the clinic, and Fiona used the ultrasound machine and we saw an image of an itty-bitty baby. 

Over the course of a month I would go back and we would try to get a measurement of the baby for a more accurate due date. Fiona found a heartbeat that was strong and fluttering beautifully to a beat that only my baby's Maker knew. August is your due date. Each measurement showed little growth. Where I thought the baby should measure further along, the baby's measurement was actually smaller.

Our family began to plan and dream of a life of 4. Dreading the midnight cries but longing for midnight snuggles. Dreading the pains of labor, but anticipating that first look of love and imagining the proud Daddy face when he sees his baby and watching Baby Kate become Big Sister Kate. We began to plan our trip back home, dreaming big of the route we would take. We told our family, enjoying the reactions and sharing in joy that life was given to our family. 

Tired. Yes, but not all the time.

Nauseous. No. It stopped on Sunday. 

Yes!! I'm clearly out of that stage!! 

I shared this news with Fiona in the clinic while Kate played with the borrowed toys available. We used the ultrasound machine, the same machine that finds babies in the village and shows mommas who had only felt the movement, but now are seeing life for the first time inside their bellies, to measure. Baby measured around 8 weeks, again not matching Momma's mental measurement. We used the [same] machine to find the [same] fluttering heartbeat. This time the [same] machine found no flutter. The beat that only my baby's Maker knew was gone. 

Impossible. 

Still full of hope. 

A possible mistake? 

Several scans confirmed the same answer. No heartbeat. No life. Just a beautiful, tiny image on a screen of a face we will only imagine, until we meet our Maker who formed our baby's beat. We have hope that our baby is healthy and whole. My Jesus, who has held my hand while walking through uncertain paths and has sometime just held me up steady on my feet, is the same One who is carrying our Little One. He will protect and care for our baby. 

Seeking Hope. 

Full of Hope. 

"But I know whom I have believed, 

and am persuaded that he is able

to keep that which I've committed

unto him against that day"

Josh and I have committed many things to Him, but the most important and most precious are our babies. 

Against All Odds

There are a few friends of mine who live in these *luxurious* places that provide electricity almost immediately after the power goes out. The power goes out and a few seconds to minutes later a generator kicks on providing power! It's incredible. This does not happen at my house. We have a generator and can [and do] use it when the power goes out, but I have to drag it outside and crank it up by pulling the cord like you would use to start a lawnmower- which also has never been easy for me.

So I feel like the days I use my slowcooker/crockpot I'm making a huge gamble. I'm placing everything (dinner) on the line in hopes that the power will stay on for the 4 or more hours I'm (really the machine is) cooking dinner. I take even more of a risk if I leave the house while the crockpot is in use, because what if the power goes out and I'm not there to start the generator- dinner could be ruined!! At this point in my life, providing a yummy dinner that is kid and parent approved becomes how I measure success in my life... This is a safe place where I can share these things that only come out when writing, right?? Don't judge me. Please, don't. 

One week I used the slowcooker **two nights in a row**. Against all odds the electricity stayed on the WHOLE time and a delicious meal met the needs or my family AND dinner guests! My friend recently blogged about being a risk taker by playing sports in an environment with poor health care... I feel like I'm living on the edge when I use my slow cooker 2 nights in a row! 

Here's a recipe that I have made recently in the slow cooker: 

Greek Chicken from http://www.humoroushomemaking.com/crock-pot-greek-chicken-pitas

• ½ cup sliced onion
• 1 pound boneless, chicken thighs
• 1 ½ teaspoons lemon pepper seasoning
• 1 garlic clove, minced
• ¼ teaspoon cinnamon
• ½ teaspoon oregano
• 1 teaspoon salt
• Pita Bread
• ½ cup sour cream
• Chopped tomato

1. Lay chicken in the bottom of a greased crock.
2. Place onions on top and sprinkle garlic and spices c over everything.
3. Place lid on and cook on LOW for 6-8 hours.
4. When chicken is done, remove it from the crock and shred it with two forks.
5. While chicken is out of the crock, stir in sour cream. Add chicken back to crock and stir well.
6. Ladle chicken onto warm pita bread, using it as a taco. Sprinkle with tomato. Fold over and serve.

Yield – 4 servings

We did not have pita, so it was served over rice. It was a hit!