After the Storm...

After I had a miscarriage and lost my precious baby, people kept mentioning "rainbow baby" to me and I had no idea what they were talking about. I later learned that a "rainbow baby" is a baby one has after a loss of a baby whether due to miscarriage, still born birth -- some type of infant loss. Rainbows follow a storm. I read something that said, " the rainbow does not negate the storm, but acknowledges it and creates something beautiful." The rainbow is a sign of hope.

I will never forget my first baby: my first positive pregnancy test; my first time telling my husband i'm carrying his child; my first time carrying a life inside of me. As I remember our first precious baby, Micah, we stand in awe of God's goodness and faithfulness. Five months after our devastating loss, we found out we were expecting again. There were a lot of feelings I had to deal with; feelings and thoughts I had that almost made me walk in fear. But time and time again I was reminded of how redemptive this story was. I was reminded to choose courage over fear. I was reminded that no matter what: God is good and He is faithful.

Now here I am, staring at my beautiful 5 week old nugget napping and quite literally living his best life. I get this wild and amazing opportunity to be his mom. I heard someone say that as moms we become co-creators with God as we carry this life inside of us and then afterwards we get to help in sustain that life. THAT BLOWS MY MIND. As I'm up at crazy hours of the night, exhausted with cracked nipples and tears filling my eyes, with a gassy and cranky baby, with seemingly no answers-- I need to remember that this little boy relies on me. He needs me. And oh how sweet it is to be needed and wanted; the comfort he feels when pick him up; the love he feels when i'm feeding him and we're looking into each other's eyes, because no one else matters at that point-- it's just Mami and Zion.

My rainbow baby, my redemption story. Zion has helped me to realize just how strong I am. I've learned that choosing courage over fear is an every day act (heck, it's an every minute act!). I'm continuously learning that I most definitely do not have it figured out and this isn't meant to be done alone or in isolation.

To those still waiting for their rainbow baby: I am so sorry you went thru that loss to begin with, but I am praying for you. I am here for you. I can't wait to hear your story of restored hope and redemption. Love you. More importantly, God loves you...and he loves your baby.

Love you all so much.

xo

Zion Anthony Hazard 

Born 1/6/2020

Our Rainbow Baby

Overthinking

Isolation is a scary place to be. You feel alone, secluded, and desperate for answers. Well, that's how I felt anyways. My pregnancy has been going fabulously well and i'm physically feeling really good; aside from some heartburn, some morning sickness, nausea, hip discomfort, and exhaustion-- but it comes with the territory and I'm embracing it all. Plus, I've heard such horror stories from people and I've decided that this pregnancy has gone relatively well in comparison to some nutty stories I've heard. Regardless of feeling physically great, I found myself emotionally all over the place.

I'm usually an over thinker at heart, so there is no surprise there; but pregnancy took it to a whole 'nother level. Over thinking: what life after this baby will look like; leaving work; returning to work; expectations I put on myself as a wife; being a pregnant wife; being a wife and a mom to a baby; being a pregnant step mom; being a step mom with an infant... the list went on. My overthinking led me to be in this weird place of isolation. A place that caused me to internalize my feelings, feeling secluded and alone. I often wondered if my feelings were normal or acceptable. Were the thoughts I had something that others felt? Did people feel alone as a pregnant step mom? or just as a step mom in general? Or alone as a wife unable to explain the journey of pregnancy to their husband? There was no rhyme or reason to me feeling this way other than the pressure I put on myself. And rather than talking about how I felt, I let it fester and continuously walk in mindless circles wondering if others felt the way I felt. I put such an enormous amount of pressure on myself in all areas of my life that it gets mentally and emotionally exhausting.  I had to consciously decide that enough is enough. Tired of the isolation and seclusion and overthinking sucking the joy out of what is suppose to be such a special time in my life.

That's a decision I have to continuously make: stop holding it in, speak your truth, and don't let it fester. Why? Because the people around me and myself deserve better. I'm not perfect at it, but I've gotten better-- some areas of my life have gotten better; some areas better than others. But i'm a continuous work in progress. I'll always be a work in progress. That's the beauty in life. We're all a work in progress-- always. I'm working on not overthinking; working on sharing how I feel (and figuring out the best time to share and how to, but that's a whole different blog post); working on not comparing how I feel to how others feel-- my feelings are my feelings. I don't need to worry if others feel the same way.

Here's to the last month and a half of this beautiful pregnancy; such a delicate and wonderful time in life. A time that I get to joyfully share with my husband, my step daughter, my mother, my sisters, and people that love us so incredibly much. Ain't it like the devil to try and steal my joy and keep me on an island of isolation? But enough is enough. God has blessed us with this remarkable miracle and the joy and emotions that come with it all are so wild.

What are you working on? Stay with it, keep your head up, and keep working on that progress.

xo

***HUGE shout out to Kim Lyn from https://kimlynphotography.com for these amazing photos***

Find her on instagram and book with her!

Coinciding

Such a weird feeling; sitting in the bathroom with two positive pregnancy tests-- both telling me that I am carrying a little nugget in my belly. I found out I was about 6 weeks pregnant the same day I would have been 33 weeks pregnant with Micah. You see, I had a miscarriage towards the end of last year and I still tend to carry that pain with me-- often thinking how I would feel, how big my belly would have been; you know, all of the I wonder type scenarios.

But I can't help but feel a sense of joy and excitement and just a feeling of being super pumped that my body is ready and is carrying a baby! I held my breathe until my 10 week appointment, my first ultra sound. And what a beautiful moment that was. To see my nugget moving all sorts of ways and at one point it looked like that sweet baby was just staring right at me thru that screen. We got to see a healthy and beautifully growing baby on that screen. 

Before my ultrasound I had finally made a decision that week-- to not walk in fear during this pregnancy. This baby's life should be celebrated and embraced. Walking in fear robs me of the small milestones, of the joy that comes with carrying a life inside of you. I don't want to worry every time I go to the bathroom or every time I have an appointment. Believe me, its hard to not think of the worst case scenarios every time. It's a constant act of handing it over to God-- every single time. Fear will not take away my experience with pregnancy --- this miraculous and fascinating and wonderful experience. I thank God during my morning sickness, because I didn't get that chance last time. I thank God for the nausea, because I missed out. I embrace the fatigue and hunger because these are all signs that my body is changing and accommodating for this little precious nugget. What an opportunity! What a joy! My face is breaking out and my emotions are all over the place, but i'm pregnant. I'M PREGNANT. 

It's odd; having joy and grief coincide. But they do and they can. And that's totally okay.

xo

Not Stopping

I made this vision board in the beginning of 2018. On it, as you can see, I mentioned slowing down, finding a house, growing our middle school youth group, making a mark in society, reading more, encouraging intentionally and purposefully, growing as a step mother, becoming a mother of my own child, and more. 

A few days ago, I had a breakdown and cried and cried and cried and cried and cried some more. I couldn't figure out why. I started to think of all the ways I failed in 2018; as a mother, as a wife, as a teacher, as a friend. Moments that I replay in my head over and over again and criticize myself about; totaling my Honda civic that resulted in me being annoyingly skittish in the car; being insecure as a step mother; feeling inadequate as a wife; losing my baby at 9 weeks; leaving a job that I loved and felt safe in. Let me make it clear that no one has made we feel this way. If anything, people are encouraging and me telling me I'm brave and strong and courageous. Instead, I felt unsure, scared, and defeated. I made myself feel this way. 

The devil is cunning and seeks to destroy us. & God won't let that happen. I don't trust in my ability, because clearly I get in my own way and in my own head. But I have a hope. Even while broken and beaten, I have a hope and I cling to that. 

So I decided to think about what really happened in 2018; I had the opportunity to carry a child in my womb and feel the joy of becoming a mother-- telling my husband that he was going to father my child, telling our families about another child entering our worlds and the seeing the joy on all of their faces was worth it all; hearing that baby's strong heartbeat was worth it all. We had the opportunity of buying a house that is becoming a home-- a place we get to call our own. Our friends and family have come over into our table-less kitchen and have shared laughs with us and more memories are still waiting to be had here. I had the opportunity to switch positions (totally my choice) and have my very own classroom with the most lively 20 students that I get to learn from every day. I've had opportunities to travel, meet new people, spend sweet time with my step daughter, grow as a wife, and had such genuine and magnificent conversations with so many amazing people. 2018 may have been filled with moments that hurt me and tried to break me, but it was also full of moments that helped me grow, that stretched me, and helped me realize that I am stronger than I think. I have a beautiful life filled with beautiful people. 2018 was filled with lessons that have exposed me, but also helped me. Life is going to constantly throw curve balls, but that's life. Bring it. Because I have my God, my husband, my family, and friends and they stick close to me. 

Don't do life alone, friends. 

xo

What Coulda Been...

The second I found out I was pregnant I thought about what I would put on the baby registry. It was all so brand new and I had so much fun doing my wedding registry that I couldn't wait for my cute little hershey kiss of a baby to have all the beautiful things. I would eye Target's baby section HARD.

Now, when I walk by the Target's baby section, I look away. When I see a cute little baby bump I smile, but I hurt a little on the inside. When I see cute little chunka babies I coo in awe, but I'm wishing I knew what my chunka would have looked like. "What could have been..." 

I think people wonder if I'm mad at God or if I'm resentful or walking around crying. I'm not. But I'm hurt. I'm sad. I wonder about what he would have looked like and be like. What would we have looked like once he came. That's all I can do; wonder. I am going to be OK and I will move on in life. But that does not lessen the hurt or the fact that I would have been 12 weeks pregnant tomorrow had his beautiful heart not stopped. I want to feel every bit of this, because feeling hurt is what keeps me connected to this baby somehow; to my baby. I'm not walking around moping and sobbing; but my heart aches for a baby. A baby that had a due date of July 1st; a baby we anticipated; a baby we loved and longed for; a baby we treasured the second that 1st pregnancy test said PREGNANT. Even more when the 2nd test said pregnant. And even more when we heard his heart beat at just 6 weeks old. She even said, "That's a strong heartbeat!" Ugh, I loved him. I love him.

I don't blame God but a very small part of me blamed myself. The one place my baby boy was supposed to be safe and develop was in me and that didn't happen for some reason. All these scenarios played in my head. No one blamed me, but me. I do that to myself though. I am my harshest critic. I even critique how I grieve. I need to let me be. I appreciate everyone being so sweet and kind and patient as I figure out what to do next and how to just be. Please don't stay away because you are pregnant or have a little chunka. I want to see them-- but sometimes it is just a little difficult for me; but I still love them! It's something that I just have to deal with. Some days are better than others. That's just where I'm at right now and I need that to be OK.

So now, life continues. You cramp, you hurt, you cry, you grieve, and you live I guess. There are people that don't know that will ask, "When are you guys having one?!"-- ouch. And that's just what it is.  Life is crazy, unpredictable, and beautiful. How can something be all those things at once?  It just is. That's it. I need to stop overanalyzing and over complicating and just know that God is holding me close. Period.

This post is so scattered with so many different thoughts, but that's how I am lately. Scattered with all these different thoughts, feelings, emotions. I'm on the floor desperately trying to pick up different pieces of a shattered situation. But that's just it, I don't have to do that. Yet I find myself doing that all the time. I need to remember that God has got me; he always has and always will.

sigh...

Giving Thanks

I could not wait for the long weekend of Thanksgiving. I looked forward to time with my family, to sleeping in, to delicious food, to being reminiscent of all the great things I've had the opportunity to experience, and to just catch my breath for the first time in a while. Our lives have been so nonstop, so busy, and so go - go - go. Thursday came and I woke up WITHOUT an alarm. I was in all my glory. I also had a special announcement to make to my family. I was giddy and silly and all sorts of nervous and excited inside. The day was better than I imagined. I started the night by playing heads up with my family which is always a good time. We played and yelled and laughed so incredibly hard. The night ended with my husband's side of the family-- which consisted of a dance party in the kitchen at like 10 o'clock at night. We danced and smiled and had no intentions of letting the fun stop.

My special announcement to the fam was a hit. I wore this shirt and they all couldn't help but just love on Jamaal and I in celebration.

Dare I say the day was pretty perfect. 

On Friday, I woke up on cloud 9 from the day before. I was so happy to tell the family the good news. Finally, things seems to be coming together-- our lives are taking off and we're adulting hard and we're loving it. Again, I woke up with NO alarm. I couldn't believe it. No alarm makes me so happy. No one was awake. The house was peaceful. It was just me and my little kidney bean sized baby in the living room enjoying the quiet and hot cup of coffee. As the morning went on, I realized I really wasn't feeling well. I decided to call my doctor and they prompted me to go to the hospital. Long story short, my friends, 4 hours later, we get the absolutely horrifying news that our little baby no longer had a heart beat. No heart beat. That is what replayed in my head over and over and over again. 

I only knew about this baby of ours for 3 weeks. In those 3 weeks, my step daughter, husband, and I came up with names. I pictured our lives with him (we like to think it was going to be a baby boy). I imagined his room. I imagined his hair and eyes and chunky thighs. I envisioned our baby shower. I couldn't wait to tell my friends and to tell the public. I have friends that are pregnant and I can be pregnant with them! But no. Not this time. In a split second all that was gone. No heart beat. Now all I have are cramps and other symptoms that constantly remind me that my baby didn't make it. I don't know why, I don't know how. But he didn't. 

But I still thank God. I thank God for family and friends that are loving and supportive-- friends and family that have cried with me and just held me and are patient with me. I thank God for a step daughter that loves us and is sensitive enough to actually comfort me and share in the hurt with me. I thank God for a husband that is patient and comforting and strong and loving. I thank God for christmas music that has reminded me of His goodness above all else. I don't know why and I don't know how, but I know our days to have a baby will come. I'm still hurt and i'm still very much sad, but God is still good. 

I'm not sure why I found the need to write this. Maybe it is a release for me. Maybe it is for people to know that we go through things. Maybe it was to let others know that they are not alone. If you've experienced this then I'm sorry. It's such a weird type of grief or sadness because you haven't met this person yet, but you know that you know that you know that you love them already beyond measure. It's like this opportunity was just taken away. Like what? 2 seconds ago it was there and now it isn't? 

It's so hard. It's so sad. It's devastating. 

But we will keep believing for a healthy baby. We will keep giving thanks. We will keep going, because if we don't hold on to hope then what else is there to hold on to?

Balance

I'm really good at the art of doing. Like really good at it.

I enjoy getting things done and checking things off my check list. I love to: get the laundry done during the weekend,  make sure that my sink isn't filled of dishes before I go to bed; plan events for the youth at church; water and repot my plants; and many more crazy boring and mundane things but they bring me joy-- truly. I think it's more of the joy knowing that things are getting done and letting others relax and converse while I get things done. 

As much as I love to get things done, it robs me of a lot of stuff. It robs me of moments. Instead of sitting watching a movie with the fam to unwind, I'm desperately trying to get the laundry done by the end of Sunday so I don't have to do it during the crazy work week or I'm trying to get to the dishes we just used from dinner because I might just lose sleep at the thought of a full sink at night. 

But like anything in life...

balance. 

Balance drives me nuts. 

I use to imagine balance as a snarky lady with the perfected side eye look of disapproval. She would look at me disappointed, rolling her eyes hard when I would do things one way or another and not include her. When I did include her, I was nervous and thinking of all the things that needed to get done. I had a hard time enjoying balance's presence because I was busy having my to do list on my mind. I was awkward and anxious with racing thoughts. She would scoff and wouldn't even try to comfort me. 

But in reality it wasn't balance making me feel that way. It was me-- all me. My mind can get weird. I'm so incredibly hard on myself. I drive myself insane!

Balance is actually gentle. She is sweet and doesn't force anything on me. She invites me, but doesn't push. When I finally accept her invitation, she doesn't talk at me; instead, she listens while I talk and share and try to figure things out. For that, i'm grateful.

It's ok that I enjoy doing things, but I don't want it to take away from those precious moments in my life. Finding that balance of doing things and getting things done to slowing down and savoring moments with the ones I love. 

Balance is good. Balance is necessary. 

Slow down, Anais. 

Slow down every now and then, friend. 

xo