I Surrender All ~ I thought I was living a surrendered life, until I actually had to surrender it.

Wednesday, June 27, 2007~

“I've been craving so many sweets lately,” I hear myself say as I pack my plate for a second time at my weekly Bible study. The words penetrate the air around me and immediately I think, “Could I be pregnant?” No, certainly not, we are taking precautions, I silently assure myself.

The lingering thought pursues until I walk into the store. I stare blankly at the pregnancy tests. I never thought I’d buy one of these again. When I get home, I wave to my family and rush into the bathroom. Each time I have taken this life changing test, I see the results instantly. This time is no different. I gasp! There it is…a second line, a new life, my fourth child.  Holding the test, and my breath, I walk outside to find my husband and three kids catching lightning bugs. I walk over to my husband as my kids dance around me grasping into the summer air for the tiny, twinkling lights.

“How was your study, he asks?” Without saying a word, I simply hold up the answer.

Tuesday, July 31, 2007~

Still in a state of disbelief, I sit in my doctor’s waiting room. My mind wanders back to the birth of my first child, a beautiful baby girl, Remington Lark. 

I relive the moment that she opens her eyes and looks at me for the first time. I trace the outline of her big, plump lips, her pink chubby cheeks, and her tiny, pointed ears. Tiny pointed ears! I have given birth to a fairy. Wonder envelopes me like a warm wind. “Thank you, Lord,” I whisper. A still small voice whispers back, “Welcome to the magical journey of motherhood.” 

Twenty-two months later, Savyn Lindy, another baby girl, joins our family. With a name as unique as she is, this world is now a better place. Her heart is as big as her beautiful smile. She radiates, captivates, and frustrates, in her own savvy way.

When I find out that I’m pregnant with my third child, I make it clear, I want a boy. As soon as he is born, my husband shouts, “It’s a boy!” I feel instant joy as I reach for my first son, Brandon Michael. He is here, and my family is complete. There is something so pure, so enchanting about the love of a child. So why do I feel so conflicted about having another one?  Before I can rationalize this feeling, the nurse opens the door.

“Ricci Semple", she calls out and suddenly I’m back to the here and now.   

I wait for the doctor and my thoughts scatter. How is another baby going to fit into our busy lives? I’ve had three children in five years…two girls and a boy. Done. Complete. Interrupting my thoughts, the doctor knocks and opens the door.

After my exam, he says, “You seem to be about 7-8 weeks along, but I’d like for you to schedule an ultrasound." 

“Why, is there something wrong?" I ask.

"No, it’s to get an accurate due date," he assures me. I nod, all the while thinking, can you just check again? Are you absolutely positive that I’m pregnant?

I turn to leave, and the nurse hands me the complimentary black nylon baby bag.

“Congratulations!” she beams. I force a smile and accept the bag. I already have three of these, I think, I don’t need another one. Bothered and bewildered, I make my way home. I am officially a mother of four.

Monday, August 6, 2007~

Today, I turn thirty-seven and I’m having another baby. Feelings of welcome anticipation are slowly replacing the shock and disbelief I’ve been carrying with me. I make it a daily habit to surrender my life to God’s will, so I know this baby is His plan for our life. It has to be His idea because it certainly isn’t mine.

Later in the day I read a devotional. “God doesn’t choose the qualified, He qualifies the chosen.” I write it down and stare at the words. I didn’t decide to have another child. God chose this for me, for us. This baby will be a blessing. This truth settles over me and the beginning feelings of excitement emerge. One day later, I wake up one year older and centuries wiser.

Tuesday August 14, 2007~

The weight has lifted, the fog has cleared, and I breeze into the doctor's office for my ultrasound. The technician and I make small talk as she glides the handle over my stomach. She tells me I am measuring twelve weeks and four days. As she continues, the look on her face

changes.

“Are you going to have the NT testing?” she casually asks then explains that all women over thirty-five are offered a test that measures the fluid at the base of the babies’ neck to help determine the probability of a chromosomal abnormality.

“I guess I’ll have it done," I answer. "Why, do you see something?” I could tell by her hesitation that she does. At my prompting, she admits, “I’m a little concerned with the neck.”

"A little concerned with the neck,” I shriek! She tries to reassure me that everything is probably fine. Probably fine and concerned with the neck are words you do not want to hear at an ultrasound.

Monday, August 20, 2007~

One week after the neck comment, I have another ultrasound. I search the nurse’s face for any sign that something is wrong. I turn to look at the screen and see my baby waving.

My eyes well up. I blink and think…stop this, don’t cry. Everything is fine, I assure myself again. I don’t even notice that the doctor has come in and is standing by my bed.

He introduces himself and tells me, “It’s the nuchal translucency fluid we are measuring.” I try to concentrate on what he is saying, but my eyes dart from him to the tiny

image on the screen. Finally, he says, “We like to see the fluid levels under two, and your baby is measuring at a five.

This, I hear.

“What does that mean?” I ask. I'm not even sure what he says but I can read it in their faces…something is wrong with my baby. He tells me about CVS testing where he can withdraw fluid from the placenta and check for any chromosomal abnormalities.

I want to scream at him, I’m not even supposed to be pregnant! I ask to call my husband and as soon as I hear his voice the emotions start pouring out. “Something is wrong with our baby.” In between sobs, I tell him that the fluid levels are too high, and the doctor is suggesting a CVS test. My husband tries to calm me and suggests that we both come in to meet with the doctor.

While I'm attempting to schedule a time for the next day, the nurse hands me an ultrasound picture. I glance down at the small figure waving. There are two little words printed on it...Hi Mom and Dad. I can't hold back the tears.

“Come in around 11a.m.," the receptionist tells me. Her face is covered in sympathy.

Everything looks the same, but somehow my world is different. As I drive home, my heart is racing and the what ifs begin to consume me. Suddenly, something catches my eye. A big hawk swoops across the front of my car and lands in a nearby tree. I slow down to see him, and a scripture rises up to save me.

“Be still and know that I am God.” ~ Psalm46:10

I pull over and repeat the words aloud, “Be still and know that I am God.” I lower my head and the small voice whispers, “Be still, my daughter, and know that I am here.” I glance up at the hawk, sitting so majestically, so still, in the top of the tree. I breathe. And then, I smile.  God, the hawk, and I have won the first battle.

Tuesday, August 21, 2007~

My husband and I drive to meet with the doctor, and I can only stare out the window. It's a hot, sticky day and my mood is as damp as the air. Sitting in the waiting room, I casually flip through an Atlanta Home magazine trying to keep my mind off of the upcoming conversation. I picture myself living in this cool, downtown loft when the nurse opens the door.

She nods our way, "The doctor will see you now." Another nurse calling me back to reality. She guides us into a small room with one round table and three chairs. The doctor comes in and shuts the door. He motions for us to sit down and starts to talk about our baby. I feel nauseous.

After hearing words like lethal chromosomal abnormality we decide to have the CVS testing. The procedure itself is not that bad. And it’s not that good, either. We are told the preliminary results could be back in 48 hours and the doctor would give us a call. On the way home, I don’t see any hawks, I don’t hear any little voice and I begin to feel defeated.

Before pulling into the neighborhood, Bobby stops the car. He shuts off the engine and turns to me. Our eyes meet, his focused, mine misty.

“You are mine. I am yours. And we are His.” He takes my face in his hands. “Whatever the results, God is in control.” The words are simple and profound, coming straight from his heart. And, somewhere deep within mine, I believe him.

Over the next couple of days, I google words like cystic hygroma and increased nuchal translucency fluid. I read about trisomy 13, 18 and 21 (which is the technical name for Down syndrome). I go to message boards and read stories about women, waiting like me, to find out the results of some procedure.        

Thursday, August 23, 2007~

After what seems like two years instead of two days, the nurse calls. 

“Unfortunately, there aren’t enough cells to get the rapid results so it will take a couple of weeks before we know anything. I’m so sorry,” she says, and I can hear the sympathy smile through the phone. After I hang up, I wonder aloud, “What are you preparing me for, Lord, and why do You need more time?”

The next two weeks are surreal. It is also a time of pure magic. God uses this time to assure me that His love and His plans are unshakable, undeniable, and unbelievable.

During this waiting time, I start a bible study based on the life of King David. On the first page, the following words are printed just for me. “Do not look at appearance or height. The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” ~ 1 Samuel 16:7  

One sunny afternoon, I take my kids to the park. I plop down on a bench and immediately notice a little girl with Down syndrome. Her smile lights her face and I find myself intensely watching her. She slides, swings, and masters the monkey bars. Just like the other kids. Laughter booms as she runs around the playground. She’s happy, playful, and full of life.

Later that week, I’m looking through a book and a scripture written on an index card lands at my feet. At that time Jesus said, “I praise you Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned and revealed them to little children.” ~ Matthew 11:25

I remember reading an article referring to people with Down syndrome as “forever child-like.” Not such a bad thing. Children believe with all of their hearts and love with all of their souls. My three children bring wonder, radiance, and joy into my life over and over again. Wonder, Radiance and Joy. These three words remind me of God. And these three words remind me of my children. As I kiss each one of them goodnight, I say a prayer of thanks. I continue to wait for the call. But I truly know that I am not waiting alone.

Thursday, September 6, 2007~

The phone rings a little after 5pm.

“We received your test results,” the doctor says. I breathe.

“Your baby is positive for Trisomy 21.”

I want to say that I already know and it’s okay. But instead, I exhale. The doctor continues and my thoughts settle on one simple question.

“Do you know the sex of the baby?”   

“Yes,” he pauses. “The baby is female.” 

As I hang up the phone, I can’t help but smile. It’s a girl.

Friday, September 7, 2007~

I'm in my sunroom when my eyes land on a small decorative plate hanging on the wall. It’s a little girl with angel wings. I think about my baby. My angel baby. I take the plate and turn it over. The inscription reads…Angel of Hope. A scripture settles into my mind, “And now these three remain: Faith, Hope and Love. But the greatest of these is Love.” ~ 1 Corinthians 13:13

This will be her middle name. Love. Bree Love. I run my hands over my stomach and allow myself, for the first time, to connect with this beautiful baby growing inside me.

“Welcome, Bree Love,” I whisper, “I love you.” 

Sunday, September 9, 2007~

Before I am out of bed, I come up with every reason not to go to church. Practically everyone at our church knows we are expecting but no one knows our recent diagnosis. I want some time; to rest, to think, to read, to pray. The small voice whispers…Go to church, you need to go to church. Reluctantly, I get in the shower.

Before the sermon begins our pastor introduces someone, and she walks to the stage. She talks about becoming a member and the reasons why she feels our church is so special.

“You see, our youngest daughter has Down syndrome.” She tells of many blessings her daughter has brought into her life. My tear ducts explode.

Is there a spotlight on my head? We just found out, so I know no one else knows. “I know,” the voice whispers, and once again God is talking right to me. And I am listening.

On the ride home, I notice my friend, the hawk, circling high in the sky. I watch the graceful movements, close my eyes, and fly with it.

The rest of my pregnancy is rather uneventful. I have monthly ultrasounds to check for heart problems, blockages, proper growth, etc. Each visit brings good news, and she is developing great. At one of my visits the doctor shares some startling statistics with me.

“Ninety percent of women who receive a prenatal diagnosis of Down syndrome choose to terminate.” he says. I stare back at him, trying to wrap my mind around this fact.

“Ninety percent, I ask, as in 90?” 

“Yes, he answers, Ninety percent.” 

This number stuns me, saddens me, and most of all…it haunts me. Over the next several months, I read books like Expecting Adam, by Martha Beck, Angel Unaware, by Dale Evans Rogers, and Angel Behind the Rocking Chair, by Pam Vredevelt. These women tell of incredible experiences. Words like joyful, peaceful, kind, generous, and loving are used to describe their children. A calling is put on my heart to share my story with the world.

Saturday, February 2, 2008~

Entering my ninth month, I re-read Laurie Beth Jones' brilliant book, The Four Elements of Success.

She writes, “I believe that the four natural elements are fascinating reflections of the different characteristics of God.”  I agree. She explains four different personality types of wind, water, earth, and fire. Based on her descriptions, my children fit perfectly into these elemental personalities. You see, I have my wind, my Remi. She fills me with such wonder. (Remember, she is a fairy!) I have my fire, my Savyn. She is so passionate she ignites those around her. I have my water, my Brandon. He refreshes me with his joyful nature and his eyes are as blue as the sea. I think I am complete. Only God knows I still need the most important element. The grounding element, and the only one that contains all the other three. Earth. My Bree Love. I know she will anchor my family and bring to us a simple wisdom as pure as a walk in the woods. “A planting of the Lord for the display of His splendor.” ~ Isaiah 61:3

My daughter will come into this world, not necessarily to learn, but to teach, and I can't wait to meet her.

Thursday, February 14, 2008~

My due date is still two weeks away, but Bree Love begins her descent today. It’s the day the world celebrates love. God’s perfect timing. My contractions are steady but not too strong, so I rest and try to enjoy the day with my family. I decide to call the doctor in the morning and get ready for bed. The night is still, hushed, and magical. I want to feel this moment, so I open the window to breathe the air. It's crisp and cool, unlike that hot august day not so long ago. I think about our journey so far and how much God has taught me, already, through this precious child. 

What do I know for sure? God is with me, guiding me, loving me. Whatever I am facing, I will rely on the abundant power of prayer. It is the only true source of solace. Even when my mind seems to fill with worry, doubt or fear, my heart remains full of faith, hope and love. And when fear starts to circle and consume my thoughts, I simply close my eyes and take flight. I rise above it, and by grace, glide through it. When I do, love wins. Love always wins.

I never really sleep, but I rest. I rest in knowing that God loves me and all I really have to do is love this child. And this I can do. I confidently curl up around a pillow and whisper, “We can do this, Bree Love, no doubt about it, we can do this.”

Friday, February 15, 2008~

I arrive at my doctors fully expecting to be sent to the hospital.

“It’s time,” he verifies.

I rush home to meet my husband. My mom arrives and we hug our children with promises of a new baby soon.

On the ride to the hospital, the contractions are closer and stronger. The cool breeze rushes through the half-open window to soothe and comfort me once again. We get to the hospital and settle into our room. The next several hours labor on and then, just like that, she is here. When I hold her for the first time, I tingle. I brush my finger across her soft cheek, and she looks in my eyes for the first time. There are no words, there is only love. Rejoicing love.

Saturday, February 16, 2008~

Outside, the night sky brightens as sunlight tries to peek out from the increasing rain clouds. A knock startles the quiet space, “Hi, can I come in?” the nurse asks.

“Sure,” I whisper.

Holding a clipboard, she walks over to Bree, who is peacefully sleeping in her bassinet.

“She’s beautiful,” she praises, and I wonder if she knows.

I glance down at the clipboard and see, Bree Love Semple. Girl. Down Syndrome. Words on a page, I think, defining my child, changing the way people treat her.

“Yes, she is beautiful, and magical, too,” I declare. Our conversation turns more personal as she asks about Bree. She pulls a chair closer as I relive the last nine months.

 “I expected to come in and find a sick baby and a sad mother,” she confesses. “But she’s not sick and you’re not sad.” 

“No, she’s very healthy and I’m very happy.” 

Before she leaves, she thanks me for sharing our story. I can tell that it has moved her in a profound way. I snuggle close with Bree and whisper in her tiny ears, “See that sweetheart, not even a day old and already teaching this world a thing or two.”

My head falls into the pillow as rain begins to softly pelt the window. Just before my mind drifts away, the small voice whispers…It is well with my soul.

And it is.