Dear Internet,

Some days I hate you. Some days I find you extremely helpful. Some days I wonder if the government is watching me through you.

However, there are some days when I want to give you a big ol’ sloppy kiss. You wouldn’t mind would you? I mean, it isn’t at all awkward with all your wires and cables and “cyber parts” right?

Why am I so fond of you right now? Well, a few days ago I got an email.

A really special email. I got an email from a wonderful girl named Danaly. She found my site through a mutual friend (six degrees of separation, right?) anyway, she knew that I had some pregnancy drama and wanted to know more about this pesky little genetic mutation we have in common (MTHFR). No, I’m not cussing at you via acronym. It is the name of a specific gene that, upon mutation, can cause high homocysteine levels and lead to increased risk of blood clotting (oooh man do I sound smart!).

When I first found out about my MTHFR diagnosis, it was after three miscarriages and a whole bunch of heartache. You can read more about what went down here. The day my doctor told me about my mutation, of course I went straight to you Internet. You had a bevy of information for me to sift through and like the many women before me, I gained my Google PhD in fertility research. I researched and read bulletin boards and looked for other women who had to take injectable blood thinners during pregnancy.

However, in all of my research and all of my reading, I never found someone who’s case was entirely similar to mine. I never actually talked to another woman who had faced this random diagnosis. Until the day Danaly emailed me. She emailed me with a ton of questions. As I read the email my heart burst! I was happy to answer as I could - finally, someone to talk to who knows what homocysteine levels are! A bird of a feather.

 It really is no matter that it wasn’t a joyful subject that brought us together. Internet, you must understand that us women…we like to relate to one another. Haven’t you seen two total strangers start talking about birth and breastfeeding and next thing you know they are like old pals? Women need to connect, and because of you Internet, last friday two little genetic mutants did.

Internet, you’ve made me a happy gal this week. One who believes in your goodness, despite your incredibly ridiculous porn content.

So Internet…what do you think? You want to go steady?

Love,

Jenn

 On March 13, 2004 at 9:02 p.m. Isaac Thomas Stone came into this world. His birth was magnificent, if only for the fact that he weighed 9lbs! I was in labor for 26 hours; I had two epidurals, neither worked. After pushing for more than 2 hours, they used a vacuum to assist in delivery. It was traumatic for me but as of today, 4 years later, I can barely remember the pain. All I remember was seeing him for the first time and thinking that I would never be the same again. And I wasn’t.

My pregnancy with Isaac was fairly uneventful. Life was very difficult at the time I was pregnant, as we lost Kevin’s mom to a battle with cancer when I was about 3 months pregnant. It was very emotionally tough the 6 months between D’Lynne’s death and Isaac’s birth. However, his birth brought healing and comfort to a family in need. Isaac will always remind me that God is a Healer.

Isaac got his name from the Old Testament story of Abraham and Sarah. Sarah was 90 when God told Abraham they would bear a child. Sarah laughed at God. So, a year later when their baby was born, they named him Isaac, which means laughter. Even in grief, our household is full of laughter and I thought it was appropriate for our first child to be representative of the joy that exists between Kevin and me.

Isaac was a colicky baby, allergic to milk at first. He started out as pretty difficult but by 8 weeks old he was sleeping through the night and giving me very little grief. He crawled at 6 months, walked at 10 months and was pretty much speaking sentences by 18 months. He was and still is an over-achieving typical first child. He has a pretty serious personality and he really likes to understand the world around him and how it works. When he was little, he always had a furrow in his brow. We called him Walter because he looked like a grumpy old man.

Isaac loves music and movies. He will memorize the songs to movies and sing them all around the house. These past few months he has been learning his letter and is fascinated with how things are spelled. I suspect that he will be reading some beginner books in the next year. He derives so much joy from learning. You can see the satisfaction in his eyes when he grasps a new concept. It is contagious.

Isaac is also famous around our house for being precocious and saying very adult things at opportune times. The minute we laugh, he gets this mischievous look on his face and starts thinking of what else he can say to astound us. When he does this, it reminds me of myself as a child and I smile on the inside as I see a part of myself in my firstborn child.

 On March 8, 2007 at 5:35pm Joshua Kenneth Stone came into this world. He weighed 7lbs 7 oz and was hungry immediately post partum. (Little did I know, this baby would prefer to be on my chest, not just post partum, but 24-7 for the next 4 months) I arrived at the hospital at 7 a.m. that morning, received an epidural that worked and 9 hours later he arrived with only 3 pushes. His birth was much easier however; my pregnancy with him was where I paid my dues. I had to give myself Lovenox shots twice a day from week 7 to week 36. After that I switched to Heparin, which was comprised of 4 shots a day until week 38, when he was delivered. I took the shots to combat a genetic mutation called MTHFR. While I only have a single mutation, not a double, it was determined that the MTHFR was causing clotting in the placenta and was the reason for my previous miscarriages. At week 7 we thought we were going to loose Joshua’s pregnancy, however the Lovenox shots kicked in just in time to fight the over coagulation my body was demonstrating.

The above picture was from the night before I had Joshua. Note the bruises on my belly from the shots and the cankles. Gotta love the 3rd trimester!!!

After my third miscarriage and my diagnosis with a genetic disorder, I had a breakdown. I assumed that I would never have another child. Not because I couldn’t but because I didn’t think my heart could take another possible loss. As I sat there that day after my doctor’s appointment I opened up my Bible and asked God to tell me something, anything, that would bring me comfort. This is what He said:

“But this precious treasure, this light and power that shines within us is held in perishable containers, that is, in our weak bodies. So everyone can see that our glorious power is from God and not ourselves.” 2 Corinthians 4:7

It may not seem like much but I could hear Him saying that although my body was weak, He would deliver a child through me so that He could have the glory. He is a keeper of promises, even when circumstances seem grim.

Joshua’s name is also from an Old Testament story. His name means, the Lord is God. Essentially it is the declaration that God is Almighty and He is the only One. In the midst of my personal anguish over miscarriage, God was and still is, sovereign. Joshua is representative of that sovereignty.

Joshie was an easy baby for the first few weeks. He slept well, he ate like a champ, and he smiled a lot right at 4 weeks. After that however, things got a little tough. He decided at some point that sleep was unnecessary and by about 10 weeks old, could go most of the day without a nap. He has been slower to reach all of the “milestones” but his temperament has developed into a sanguine, affable, joy of a child. He is usually ready for anything and his favorite thing is to get in the car and go someplace.

As of his 1^st birthday, Joshie still isn’t walking but he is very close. He can crawl amazingly fast and he prefers that mode of transportation at this point. Joshua is infatuated with his older brother and will do anything to get close to him. I hope that this continues, as it is my deepest desire that my children have a close relationship.

I know, mostly, what this next year will hold for Joshua, first steps, words and lots of learning. What I don’t know is how I am going to handle my baby turning into a little boy. The second time around it is so much more difficult to let them grow and be independent.

I am a habitual pregnancy test taker.

I don’t know what my problem is but I always think I am pregnant. This makes absolutely no sense because I have been pregnant 5 times and I know what pregnant feels like. So why am I so faked out all the time? Well other than I am crazy, I’m not really sure what the answer to that question is.

For those of you wondering to yourself, “pregnant five times, what???” Well, I have two beautiful little boys but they didn’t come without a hell of a lot of heartache and 3 miscarriages. I have a genetic mutation that causes clotting in the placenta during pregnancy. You can read about it here.

I have been wondering how to write about all that I went through with my pregnancies. I love to write and I was writing long before I ever decided to post my thoughts on this page. Yet curiously, when I am in real emotional pain, I cease to write. There are months missing out of my journals and this website where I just couldn’t articulate the hurt in my heart.

Yet now that I have come out the other side, I want to write about all of the pregnancy drama because maybe it will help someone out there. I remember sitting at work surfing the internet looking for someone to put into words the situation I was experiencing. I found a lot of comfort in Tertia’s writing and also in Julie’s. I never even commented on their sites but I read them every day, hoping to find commonality with someone in my loneliness and quiet desperation.

I will write more about what I’ve been through, the lovenox shots, the d&c’s, the bi-weekly stress tests, the hospital stays, the ridiculous amount of bloodwork, etc. I know that the 4 years of both successful and unsuccessful conception changed me in ways I am barely even aware. The loss of a baby breeds a lonely ache so strong, your core is rocked. However, for now, I just wanted to open the door and begin the process of seeing what is inside.