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We are grateful our family is complete. We will never forget our experience and continue to pray for those suffering against the uncertainty and pain of infertility. However a new stage in life has led to a new blog. I would be honored if you would follow me there as I share my year long effort at bringing greater glory to God.

After coming out as a Trump supporter I experienced days of extreme anxiety. In part due to a small number of personal attacks, difficult conversations with close friends, and the more frequent connection to social media it caused.

Plus the resentment machine in my head was hard at work imagining all the thoughts people had that they did NOT share on social media. I assumed every moderate or progressive friend I had ever had now hated me.

But after prayer and reflection I realized it was more than that.

I was in sin.

In today’s culture of acceptance many people consider the mere idea of sin oppressive. But for me I recognize that God wants me free from sin because it almost always causes me harm. Discipleship and the journey toward removing sin in my life have given me peace and freedom.

When the anxiety stretched into a second week I realized something was wrong. 

When I am close to Christ and following His will I just don’t experience persistent anxiety. I might have a sleepless night or two, but not the kind of life altering stress I experienced in the days that followed the post.

But what was my sin? That I voted for Trump despite knowing his past and his character?

No (although I know many of you disagree).

My sin was that as a disciple of Christ I stepped out of the messy middle.

I made being a conservative my identity over being a daughter of Christ. 

I made social media my mission field and invested countless hours into it instead of studying my bible and engaging with my husband, children and friends.

I began to approach the world with a new selective bias and look for ways to support my position versus seeking His truth. 

And at times when I was attacked I got angry. Like really angry.

I was tempted to go back into hiding with my political beliefs and let others with much less to lose do the fighting for me. But that is not what God is calling me to do. God is calling me into the messy middle. That’s where He wants me and that is where I live for about 3 and a half years until an election comes along that forces me to pick a side.

In my last post I shared some of the reasons I more often identify as a conservative. To oversimplify it, I believe our God endowed us with certain unalienable rights and among these are Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness.

God could have breathed life into us without giving us an opportunity to choose Him or to choose sin. But in His omnipotence, He recognized that kind of “happy zombie” existence would be no kind of life at all. I believe the free will He gave us serves as a model for how our government should be structured as well. 

Often I think the Republican party gets this part right which is why I tend to vote that way (but not always!). Unfortunately though when a party gets it wrong it usually gets it very wrong.

I will share just one example of many that will likely upset a shrinking number of my more conservative friends.

Marriage.  If I am to put my free will money where my mouth is, then I believe you can legally marry whoever you want because to do otherwise would mean imposing my particular flavor of religious belief and practice on you. I also like to think that Jesus would have wise counsel that might be very different than culture of the day but He would still allow the practice. My particular belief surrounding God’s design for marriage is wholly irrelevant to the conversation. I am free to enjoy my marriage in the way I understand it and it is not made less sacred by someone else’s practice of it.

I could also talk about climate change, racial equality, globalization and many other areas where my beliefs are smack dab in that messy middle. And believe me in future posts I will! However my point here today is that I don’t want to blindly tow any political party line without questioning, learning, and praying for God’s will for me, my family, community and our country.

As Christians it is very difficult at times to discern our role in the political landscape because the battlefield is one that the devil delights in using to divide us and it is covered with land mines. However, I do feel we belong in the fray. 

At times we may be called to be lions. 

At times we may be called to be lambs. 

But at ALL times we should put His Kingdom over everything, even what we feel is right for our country.

I am a sinner but thankfully I serve a God from whom grace flows freely. You have my commitment to work to be more like Him in all things while also using my voice and challenging ideas. I am very concerned about the direction of our country and the lack of thoughtful and grace-filled discourse on both sides. In stepping out of my echo chamber and sharing these ideas I will probably make even more people in this binary world unhappy. 

I am praying for God’s strength in helping me be ok with that because intellectually and spiritually His is the approval I ultimately seek.

Thank you to those willing to extend that grace to me as well as I continue to learn and grow in faith.

*inspired by Andy Stanley’s “This Human Race”

After 22 months and five days it comes to an end. We are ready. You are easily distracted and often forget me. I am content and I am tired. It is time.

But I will miss…

Watching you hold hands and play with one another while you eat

Feeling your sweet smelling breath on my cheeks as you sleep on my chest completely satisfied by my nourishing milk

Starting my day snuggling with you while you play, then nurse, then play, then nurse

Ending my day with you gazing sleepily up at me as you fill your bellies and prepare to drift off for the night

But I will not miss…

Packing my pump bag the night before a business trip, knowing we are soon to part

Forgetting things like power cords and storage bags and paying to have them shipped overnight to my hotel

Pumping in the middle of the night to keep my supply up while everyone in the house, including the two of you, peacefully sleep the night away

But I will miss…

My beautiful toddlers pointing at my chest and jointly exclaiming “Bo bo! Bo bo!? in a way that is both a declaration of unparalled excitement and a desperate request

Soothing you by holding you close and letting you suckle your pain, fear and unhappiness away

Traveling light when we traveled together because we never had to pack a bottle or formula to leave the house

But I will not miss…

Having to watch the clock and be on schedule to nurse or pump every day with no vacations or even a break

Lugging my pump through TSA never knowing if I am going to need an extra 20 minutes so they can painfully take apart my pump bag and scan every single bag of milk

Pumping in public places and restrooms because there is either no nursing Mother’s room or its being used by another working mama

Desperately deploying various home remedies to cure various maladies like sore nipples, mastitis, and clogged ducts

But I will miss…

Knowing that what you get from me is the best that you can possibly get 

Connecting with you in a way that is only possible in that moment

Looking down at you when the world is quiet and dreamily soaking it in knowing that though I am tired I am a mother and there is nothing I would rather do than what I am doing right now

Being the only one and only thing in the world you need

The last time we nursed I suspected it would be our last. It was the morning after Thanksgiving. I had to remind you it was time. The two of you appeased me but wanted to move quickly on to reading books and playing with toys. It was memorable but not as special as the night before. The night before you were both so tired from the day’s events that for the first time in a long time you nursed like you did when you were newborns. Fully intent on me and the work at hand with Wesleigh on my left side and Max on my right. You reached for each other like old times and held hands but your eyes remained locked with mine until it was done. It was almost as if you knew. But how could you have? I didn’t.

However after watching you that next morning as you played and barely knew I was there it struck me that it was time.

You have done so well with the change and don’t seem to miss it. We will make new connections in new ways. Soon you will forget altogether as you continue to grow and become more independent.

These memories are like many others that will fade for you until they are gone. For me these memories will last a lifetime and beyond.

(more…)

A great coach will always call a time out if they have one prior to the last big play of a game.

That’s where we are, the last play of the game and we are ready to inbound the ball and throw it to our best shooter for our hail Mary pass.  But before we do we are taking a little time for our family and focusing on our priorities, priorities that have been out of whack over the last few years while dealing with infertility.

If you have experienced infertility treatment, you know its easy to let your biological calendar run your life.  When you add in the fact that my job requires travel and extensive planning, making time for family can feel impossible.

Since the day Spork was born, we have yet to make time to go on a real family vacation.  All our travel has been for treatment, work, reunions or funerals.

My daughter has more frequent flier miles than most adults, but sadly not a single one of those trips has been for us to spend time away from work and home to really connect as a family.  If you have followed our journey, you know that we make the most of our fertility trips. We have seen Broadway shows, toured museums, and visited numerous zoos between monitoring appointments.  We have shopped till we dropped in New York City. Bill and I even thrashed some gnarly pow pow out in Vail and Breckinridge when we were seeing the famous doctor at that Denver clinic.

But its not the same as taking a trip that is just for us.

That’s what we are finally doing in two weeks.  Sure its only four days, but it will be four days at none other than Disney World!!! This will be the very first time either my husband or daughter has been to the Magic Kingdom. I know it will be amazing and well worth putting treatment on hold.

Added bonus? I won’t have to inject anything. I won’t have to be up at 5 AM to drive to a clinic for daily ultrasound and blood work. We will not be worrying about whether surgery will fall on the day that we selected to buy tickets.

In short, we can’t wait. All three of us are excited beyond belief.

And it gets even better.

When we return from Disney, Bill and I will be going to a couples retreat for a long weekend as well.  Originally I shot this idea down because I wanted to be able to dive right back into treatment after returning from Disney, but Bill and I agreed that it was time to put God at the center of our lives and put infertility on the back burner.  The Lord is doing such amazing work in our marriage and we feel this time will be well invested, especially since we hope to be dealing with raising a child while pregnant soon.

When we return from the retreat we will start our very last fresh IVF cycle.  I know I haven’t reported the results on the second cycle yet. I simply haven’t had the time. It went well at first, but of 10 of the embryos we created only one lived long enough to be genetically tested. Miraculously though it was chromosomaly NORMAL!!!  Praise God!!!  So we now have two normal male embryos.

When we decided to try embryo banking we signed up for three cycles. When we start again at the end of this month we know that whatever happens this will be the last one.  This will be the last time I take the hormone injections and the last surgery. Its hard to believe it will be the eighth full cycle. Its almost impossible to imagine what life without treatment will be like.

I am almost ready to hang it up, though. In the beginning I was fighting so hard to have another baby, and fighting to control something that was beyond control. Now I have peace that these last steps are what God wants for our family. I don’t know if there will be another baby at the end of it, but I feel a sense of serentiy and purpose in it all.

I will spend more time writing about faith and fertility soon and will likely change the focus and design of the blog to be more centered on the intersection of those two things. As you can imagine, there are many conflicting emotions among infertile Christians about how to tackle infertility as people of faith, and many churches have opinions as well. It should make for some lively discussion which I will pray will help others as they navigate difficult questions about God’s will for our lives, medical intervention, and even deep concepts regarding life at conception. These are all areas that have challenged us in the last few months as we returned to our faith and began to question our treatment decisions.

But that is for another time. Right now its time for the Winslow’s to huddle up with our arms around each other before we break and wait to see what comes of our breathtaking last shot.

Until then, prayers for God’s will to be done in us are appreciated. We will be praying for all of our brothers and sisters in infertility as well.

We are back.  Back in treatment. Back in Michigan after our first trip to the clinic. Back to the blog.

Well, not really back to the blog. Not in a meaningful way, anyway. With the new job, a preschooler, treatment, and my reinvigorated faith I don’t have the time to devote to the blog that I once did.  In the downtime I have these days I am attending church or bible study, reading daily devotions, or just generally fueling this great renewed love.  It has given me tremendous peace during this cycle, so I haven’t needed the blog as an outlet.

However I do want to document and share the process with others. So here it goes.

I went to New Jersey for the first of three embryo banking cycles on October 25th.  As usual, I was on a high dose of stimulation medication, but this time we also added daily low dose HCG.  The cycle started out pretty rocky with follicle sizes all over the map.  I had one large follicle take a strong lead which meant that it was unlikely for many of the very small follicles to catch up and develop into mature eggs.  After much debate, we decided to let the large follicle grow larger than normal, knowing that it meant that egg would likely disintegrate. In a fresh cycle, a doctor may not do this because it runs the risk of creating a situation where the lining is out of synch with the timing of embryo development.  This worked well for us though because we were freezing and not transferring the embryos.

Normally I take stimulation meds for 11 days prior to being ready for retrieval.  This time I responded much faster. So much faster that we had to pay a king’s ransom to change Bill and Evelyn’s flight to have them come join me in time for the procedure.  Their arrival was a nail biter with one cancelled flight and a delay.  I finally picked them up at La Guardia at nearly midnight instead of Newark as planned.  But they made it. A mere 7 hours prior to a procedure that would have been a bust without Bill there to do his part.

The procedure was a raging success and nothing short of a miracle.  The day prior to the retrieval the doctor was predicting 6 to 8 mature eggs total given the timing difference in follicle development.  It was disheartening news given that in the last several treatments I had many, many more. Still,  I prayed that God help us realize our desire to have a child in any way He saw fit,  Whether it be from one egg or 20, I just prayed that our miracle was on the way.

After retrieval I was still loopy when the nurse showed me the number of eggs we retrieved circled on a piece of paper.  Fourteen!  It was far more than expected, but didn’t mean much until we knew how many were mature.  We received the call the next day and learned that 12 eggs were mature and 9 fertilized successfully. I was overwhelmed with joy and knew immediately God had His healing hands on this process.  These results meant that we obtained a mature egg from every follicle I had, except for two and one of those was likely that very large lead follicle we let go.  This was amazing since just the day prior many of these follicles were 3 millimeters or more smaller than the targeted 14mm prior to retrieval and likely to contain immature eggs.

I feel the Lord’s hand in this cycle in such a profound way and I know whatever happens, it is exactly as it should be. We have turned this over completely to God.  Still, we are not afraid to ask for help. We are not afraid to ask for healing.  We are not afraid to ask for our heart’s desire to be delivered to us. And above all we are not afraid to ask for prayers. We believe in the power of prayer and hope that anyone who prays and is reading this adds us and our embryos to their prayer list.

In fact, my belief in the power of prayer grew even stronger after I allowed three amazing strangers pray with me last Sunday at Gateway Church in New Jersey.  It was a very special church and I feel God led me there to be prayed on that day when I and my body needed it most. If you ever have a chance to visit, I encourage you to check it out. It’s the kind of church where the members feel like family, children dance in the isles, and the music is so good you feel like you are at a concert.

We will learn how many make it to the blastocyst stage to be biopsied and tested on Tuesday.  I remember this waiting period well and was beside myself with worry the last time. This time is different. This time I know that whatever the result is, its not in our control and I believe that God will lead us to our next child.

Matthew 17:20 “Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed you can say to this mountain, ‘move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”

I just haven’t had the words.

That phrase explains so much in my life right now, and its definitely an perfect explanation of why I haven’t been blogging for many, many weeks.

At first, I disappeared simply to take a little time away from all things related to infertility. It wasn’t a conscious decision, it just happened. I was considering a new job and wanted to lay low during the interview process, plus I was thoroughly enjoying summer and pretending that I wasn’t infertile.

I fully intended to return to the blog as soon as our first of three embryo banking cycles began in July. But that plan and the excitement of those cycles seem like a distant memory after all that has happened over the last several weeks.

It started with a phone call from my sister on June 23rd at 2:30 in the morning. There are very few phone calls at that hour that bring good news. I could tell from the tone of Kelly’s voice that this was going to be bad.

Then she told me to “brace myself.”

Dear God, I thought. No! What is it? Who is it? Images of everyone I loved passed through my mind in the few seconds it took for Kelly to tell me what had happened. Was it my Mom? My brother, sister, or— God help us—one of my three precious nieces?

It wasn’t them. But it was bad. Real bad.

“Brianna’s dead, Alisa. She is dead. She was in a car accident and she is dead.”

Brianna is my 17 year old cousin, one of two children of my late father’s youngest brother.

She was driving home with a friend from a fishing trip at 10:30 that Sunday night. A man (allegedly) operating under the influence with 6 previous DUIs ran a stop sign and crashed into her causing internal bleeding that could not be stopped, leaving her friend in a coma and facing months and possibly years of rehabilitation.

In an instant my cousin was gone and her friend’s life and the life of everyone she knew was forever changed.

Two days later we loaded up the car and went to Kentucky to spend time with the family and attend the services.

It was hands down the most moving, difficult, and spiritual service I have attended. My Aunt Tonya, Uncle David, and Cousin Brice were inspiring. They were so strong as they stood for hours greeting people, hugging them, and offering comfort at a visitation that went nearly three hours longer than scheduled due to long lines for a girl who had clearly made an impression on so many.

Such an impression, in fact, that four people accepted the pastor’s invitation to come forward during the service to learn more about accepting Christ. That’s not something you see every day and helps paint a picture of Brianna. It says volumes about the kind of life she lived.

Her memorial service also greatly affected me on a very personal and spiritual level. I privately decided to rededicate my life to Christ. I know others in the family did the same but none of us felt a funeral for one of our own was the time or place to go up front to declare this decision to the world.

We spent the next few days in Kentucky, sad to be together for such a terrible reason, but finding comfort and peace in being with our extensive family there. Our last night in town we sat outside late into the night talking to Brice, Tonya, David and the whole Taylor clan. We told funny old stories and lit Chinese lanterns in Bri’s memory. It was somber, but I left Kentucky feeling like even though the family would never be the same, we were going to be ok.

We travelled to Kentucky in a caravan of Michiganders with 4 children under the age of five. It was a 10 hour drive which easily became 12 with bathroom breaks and food stops. The kids had been troopers all week so we decided to take them to Holiday World in Indiana on the way home. We learned from what happened with Bri that we should embrace time with family while we have it. We aren’t promised tomorrow. The kids had a great time and we arrived home Sunday afternoon physically and emotionally exhausted.

I went to bed that night thinking that while we had many years of pain and healing ahead, the worst was behind us.

I was wrong.

Early the next morning I awoke to another phone call from my sister Kelly. Again the unusual hour and shaking in her voice told me that I was about to hear bad news. When she told me what happened, I thought she was joking. But this kind of prank would be far too cruel for anyone to play.

Late that Sunday night, almost exactly one week from the moment of Bri’s accident, her brother Brice was in an ATV accident. He was driving home from a small memorial service at a friend’s when a deer ran through the parking lot of the church where services for Brianna were held just a few days before.

His parents were right behind him on a side by side and saw Brice hit the deer. He wasn’t driving fast or irresponsibly, nor was he wearing a helmet. Brice sustained serious head injuries but it took doctors several days to understand the extent of the damage. We were told the first 72 hours were critical.

The waiting was excruciating. We were still in a stupor from the loss of Brianna and emotionally and physically depleted from our two day trip home. We didn’t know if we should head back to Kentucky immediately in case it was our only opportunity to say goodbye, or to wait to hear the prognosis knowing that these types of accidents can require years of recovery time.

We chose to wait.

I will never forget being on our sun porch on July 3rd when we received that call, breaking down and hyperventilating when my brother told me that Brice wasn’t going to make it. I don’t think my two year old daughter will forget it either. She was so worried about her Mommy and why she was crying so hard in Daddy’s arms. 

Brice officially passed on July 5th. 

We headed back to Kentucky again for Brice’s services on July 9th. This time wasn’t as inspiring, there was too much heartache and earthly worry for that. Plus there was media. The service was held in a much larger church to hold the anticipated crowds and was televised live on the local news station. As different as it was, it was still too much like Brianna’s funeral, but instead of smiling and showing us hilarious selfie videos of Brianna, Brice was being laid to rest.

It was surreal and I was already starting to question my newly reinvigorated faith.

We stayed in Kentucky a few days after the service to be with family and to celebrate the birthdays of both Brice and Bri. Brice would have turned 21 on July 10th the day after his funeral, and Brianna would have been 18 on July 11th.

We once again released Chinese lanterns at an informal family potluck between their two birthdays. As we lit the lanterns we listened to the songs that were created for each of them and played at their funerals. We watched in awe as the lanterns flew into the night sky toward a pair of stars, the only two visible stars that night. As we listened to their music, the lanterns lined up in the distance to form a perfect cross and headed straight toward those two stars.

I knew at that moment Brice and Brianna were with both my earthly father and my Heavenly Father. My faith would never be shaken again.

We haven’t been the same since then and we won’t ever be the same as a family. My faith is strong and my heart is full of peace and love, but there is still great pain. In fact I think the whole thing was so unbelievable that we haven’t even begun to fully experience the pain. The distance from my family in Kentucky makes that hard too.

We have postponed our next IVF cycle until October. But even now I can’t imagine pouring my energy into trying to get pregnant again. I will pray on it and put it in God’s hands the same way I do everything else now. At least there is that. I now fully trust God and know that I can handle anything life throws at me.

I believe in a greater purpose and have turned over control.

Up to this point I never believed that “everything happens for a reason.” Its a topic my middle sister and I have long been at odds over and I still contend that its just not true, but for a far different reason than she might expect. This experience has taught me beyond a shadow of a doubt that everything most certainly does not happen for a reason, everything happens for a million reasons.

Brice and Bri’s accidents each would have been very different if the timing had been off by mere seconds. They might still be here if the man that hit Brianna’s had bothered to brake or the deer that ran into Brice had been spooked just a moment later. But in those moments that lives were lost, lives were changed. We won’t know all of the million reasons why while we are here on this earth, but I know just a few:

• Two siblings were called to be together in heaven, surrounded by a love greater than any they could know in this life.
• At their funerals, four souls were publicly led to the love of Christ at along with countless others silently moved to believe anew.
• Many people were given new hope and perhaps even a chance to know God when they received Brice’s organs.
• And of course, a 38 year old woman was given new peace about infertility, a new appreciation for her family, and a renewed faith in God.

I am not naive. I know that while much good has and will come from these terrible tragedies, much pain has come too. I just pray that God continues to surround those in pain here on earth with love and the assurance that someday we will be reunited with them and His purpose will be clear.

In weaker moments I feel guilty for the way my life has changed for the better. Sometimes I fear this happened for just for me. I fear that it took something so terrible to get my attention and cause me to cultivate and nurture my faith in ways I haven’t in years. But then I remember that I am not the only reason. That there are a million of them and the beauty and purpose of all this will become clear to us someday.

Until then, we will pray every night for those who are hurting.

And we pray every spare moment for my aunt and uncle. May God give them peace today, and joy again someday.

That’s all I can muster for now. There is so much more to their stories, but its hard for me to tell. This doesn’t mark a return to the blog for me, I am still not ready for that.  But its a start and hopefully a step toward healing and understanding too.

 

Links to their memorial songs:

 

It has been a whirlwind week with consultations with two different doctors and all the paperwork and prep that goes along with it. We also celebrated Bill’s 39th birthday on Thursday (better him than me in the fertility game!). Add in a hectic work schedule and it should be clear why I haven’t posted an update on our plans and consultation.

Today’s post is short and sweet as well. I bought Bill cooking classes for his birthday and we are headed there momentarily. However I wanted to let my dear friends and supporters know what we were up to as it relates to next steps in our pursuit of Spork’s sibling.

Dr. Superman was everything we expected him to be. The consultation went well and we have decided to give the new clinic a try. We will be cycling in July but are banking the embryos from three cycles and genetic testing them all. This means we won’t actually transfer until early next year which is a little disappointing but we are both excited about the fact that this is our best shot at another baby. We also like that we won’t have the ups and downs that go along with transferring after each of three stimulation cycles. So instead your average every day fertility roller coaster with a number of peaks and valleys it will be more like The Top Thrill Dragster, one enormous, anxiety provoking, and exhilarating ride when we get to transfer next year.

The road will still be a tough one. We will have only one month off between each stimulation cycle assuming the cysts that have plagued me are kept at bay. I know it will be physically demanding and of course outrageously pricey.

Still, I am sure it will be worth it. God, I pray it will all be worth it.