Welcome

This blog will retell the story of Stickers' beginnings and the medical community's refusal to believe this pregnancy was even possible.

I have been pregnant seven times and have the wonderful task of raising three wonderful children. I am grateful that four angels await me in the arms of God.

Stickers was the name given to our youngest child while he was still growing inside me. We were continuing a family tradition of giving our baby a name soon after we were pregnant so the child was not referred to as "It" or "The Baby." We were never interested in knowing the sex of our babies before they were born so they had to be gender neutral.

I have grown in my belly a J.R., Jordan, Sam, Peanut, Flipper, Stickers, and Faith. Those growing bellies grew to become Braylie, Kevin, and Carson. Babies Jordan, Sam, Peanut, and Faith are buried at the tiny country church cemetery where we go to renew our spirit and hear God's word.
 
I nicknamed my first pregnancy J.R. because it was common for babies to be referred to as junior and I wanted something just a bit different; a name not a title.

My second pregnancy was lost as I found out I was pregnant so I chose a name  gender neutral because I did not know for sure, although I have always felt Jordan was a girl.

My third pregnancy was a whirlwind. On Thursday I had a positive pregnancy test. On Monday night I couldn't sleep so I kept my husband awake until we came up with name. Tuesday morning while I was at work I began to have cramping and spotting. My husband took me to the ER where I was told everything was fine and if I wanted to take the rest of the day off work and relax. I sent my husband back to work only to call him a few hours later to inform him I had woken up in a pool of blood. Our baby Sam (named for Yosemite Sam because we were going to have a Loony Tunes nursery) was gone.

After a discussion with our older children (J.R. plus the 2 children from my husband's first marriage) the oldest decided that Flipper was appropriate four our next pregnancy because it was likely the shape of the baby at the time.

Peanut was our meant to be baby. We had been talking about adding one more child to our mix only to discover the decision had already been made. We were expecting Peanut to join us in October, in time for my sister's birthday.

At our 13 week checkup the doctor could not find a heart beat and sent us for an ultra sound to confirm Peanut's age. Our baby was gone. We cried, the nurse cried, our doctor was great. That Friday a D&C was performed. It was an awful experience I was in no way prepared for.

We accepted the loss like champs. How could we call the baby meant to be and then question the loss? We knew that for whatever reason, Peanut was meant to be in every way possible. I was upset that now God held in his arms more of my children than I did. This comforting vision was also very sad.

Exactly one month later, when I hadn't experienced what I was told to expect I took a pregnancy test which was positive and we were beyond overjoyed. We called the doctor who saw us that afternoon and sat us down with a somber tone. She explained that the test was likely positive due to hormones still in my system from the last pregnancy. A series of blood tests were scheduled to confirm hormone levels. Within a few days it was obvious, again a child was growing inside me.

As the medical professionals explained the unlikelihood that this pregnancy would continue because of the recent loss we prayed for our little trooper. Non-viable pregnancy is a medical term used for pregnancies deemed not possible to continue. I had hear this term before, and I hated it.

My seventh and final pregnancy ended with the birth of our daughter Faith Hope. Born at 8 weeks, 5 days gestation we were in no way prepared for the grief this tiny little baby would bring to our lives.

Each of my children have been a blessing (even though the three on earth sometimes try to disguise this). I look forward to retelling the story of Stickers' journey and how our family has triumphed in the face of so much tragedy.