1/22/2015 7 Comments Cherry TomatoesAbout an hour before dinner, Teaghan was eye-ing the plump red cherry tomatoes from the counter top. In fact, she had asked to eat them, but seeing as how they were for dinner, she was told to wait. In regular Teaghan-the-Diva fashion, she began to pout: bottom lip out, arms crossed in front of her, feet stomping, eyes heavy, and heart whining. After telling her to "quit pouting", I noticed about 10 minutes later she was still sulking. Over a few cherry tomatoes. "Teaghan" I said, "we aren't going to whine over a few tomatoes. There are plenty of other things, far worse, to be sad about, but we aren't going to whine in this house." Maybe I was giving myself the pep-talk. Maybe I was reminding my own flesh how to respond to crappy situations in life. See, hours earlier, we sat in the doctors office, for a routine ultra-sound. The heartbeat was fine, and the baby's hands moved across the screen. But this time, the tech abruptly stopped and called for a doctor. Moments later, we were being told about a condition called Anencephaly. Where the neural tube, during the first few days of life after conception, develops poorly. The baby continues to grow, without developing a brain or skull. I feel like I'm supposed to say I cried when they told us. But the ultrasound tech cried harder than I did. I wish I could tell you God had prepared me and shown me the details before we walked in the office. But He didn't. But He did provide the words I would need to hold onto. Just days earlier, I was encouraging our congregation with the truth of Isaiah 43. Telling them not to be afraid, because God is with them. How He is with them amidst the fire and walking with them through the storm. How He gives nations for them, because of His incomprehensible love for them. Little did I know that I would need those very truths to survive the afternoon. I wish I could tell you that I've been alright with all of this. The truth is I've sobbed my eyes out. The truth is that my head hurts from trying to answer all of my own questions. The truth is that our baby won't survive outside of the womb. The truth is that it hurts deeply and is immeasurably sad to think of an innocent baby who has and will do no wrong, being in such a condition. The truth is I'm terrified at what comes next. The truth is that everyday will be a pause and re-evaluation of what to do next. But the truth is that God is with me. The truth is that He is our strength. The truth is that He has called this baby by name and has redeemed her. (Yes, it's a girl.) The truth is that we are walking through deep- oh so deep- waters, but He is there, and the trouble will not overwhelm us. The truth is though we are walking through fire, we will not be burned. The truth is that though we are surrounded by hardships, they will not hurt us. To tell you I'm angry and mad would be a lie. Through all of the horrific news and information, no one person is to blame. Please, oh please, don't tell me you're " sorry" for us. You didn't cause any of the hurt. I know you're searching for words to try and say that could ease the pain, but sorry is not the word. Instead, tell me you're praying for us. Instead, tell me you're here for us. Instead, tell me You're believing for a miracle. We still have a few appointments left to gather information and make our decisions. And we will fight the good fight of faith until the end. We believe that God is the great physician. That no doctor on this earth can give a final report. That nothing is impossible for God, as the hands that knit this baby together from the beginning. We aren't trying to be unrealistic either. We understand that sometimes life is hard, and that's a bridge we will cross when we come to it. We are believing for a miracle until it is finished. No scan or report can determine who holds the keys to life and the death and the grave. Please don't tell me that God had a "plan" for this. God's plan is for life- abundant life. It is the enemy who is roaring around like a lion trying to steal, kill, and destroy. And while he may have his moment, he will not also have our faith. This baby may not "live" long here on this earth. But she will experience life more abundantly than you or I, soon. She will have eternal rest and peace and never experience a void of the presence of Jesus. The hardest part through all of this, has been explanation. We were made to live and move and have our being. And in a fallen world, death and fatal circumstance are difficult to understand. I don't have all of the questions answered. I wish I had a manual to reference every time one of them came up: what will this baby look like? How long will she live after birth? Do we induce delivery now and end the inevitable? How do we tell our other kids? What do we tell other people? How do you explain death to a people created to be immortal? I find myself sinking into the abyss of flooding questions often. And I find the only way to come up for air is to sit in His presence. I don't mean that in a hyper-spiritual way either. But literally, when I cannot think straight and cannot bear the weight of the diagnosis any more, I have to run into the arms that carried all of my sin, shame, and death on a cross. He's the only one capable of carrying such a load. And I have to allow Him to carry me through, or I won't make it to the end. I cry less than I expect. And then when it's quiet and lonely I cry more than I imagine. But I find myself sitting and thinking of Teaghan and those tomatoes, when it gets so very hard. There's too much to be grateful for. Too much to be thankful for. Too much He's already done for us- that I can't imagine whining about this. I can't fold my hands across my chest- I must lift them up to the Maker and Creator of Life. I can't stomp in anger and frustration, only in joy and triumph to dance on injustice. I can't furrow my eyes downward- I have to look up into the face of Jesus where peace and hope are found. I can't whine and cry and pout about a crummy diagnosis- I have to shout out in praise that He is good! And He is strong. And He is with me. And He will not fail. And He has called me and this baby His own. And He has plans for good and not for harm. And He is making a way where there seems to be no way. And He is fighting for us. And on our side. I cannot and will not allow the enemy a single drop of sorrow - to add to his collection of what he's taken from me. Does that mean I don't get sad? Wrong. It's immeasurably sad. It's heartbreaking. But I serve the God who is the mender of the hurting and He binds up the broken-hearted. Does it mean I don't get angry? Wrong again. Sometimes tears turn to rage. But I war not against flesh and blood- but against principalities of darkness. And I must fight to bring down everything that tries to exalt itself above the Name of Jesus. Does it mean I have the answers? Ha. That's almost laughable. All the studies and research in the world would never be enough. And yet the God who answers prayer is at my beck and call and is waiting to deliver me. He is a strong and mighty tower- to whom I run- and am safe! Does it mean I don't loose sleep? I'm up at 2:39am blogging. You tell me. But I know that The Lord gives sleep to those whom He loves. And that when I lie down, my sleep will be sweet. And that He is the author of peace, and I can give Him my worries and fears in exchange for rest. So now what? Again, every day will be a re-evaluation. We simply don't know. But we are walking by faith and not by sight. We would ask for your faith and prayers. If you have a horror story or a glim fact or a waivering doubt- keep it to yourself. I have enough doubt to keep at bay for myself. If you want more faith, start listening to the word. faith comes by hearing the Word. Start reading it out loud. Memorize it. Get it in your heart. If not for me then for you. But stir yourself up. Pray in your prayer language. In your closet. In your car. In the bathroom. Pray without stopping for a miracle. And watch what God does. His miracle might be forming a brain from nothing. After all, He made man from dust and woman from a rib. He can do it. But the miracle may also be that we are able to live life here on this earth, without our heads hung low and in anguish over loss. Both of which would be miraculous. Lastly, because like I said, explanation is the most difficult, I want to divulge some of the medical facts to you reading- because people and their curiosity tend to be one of the most painful parts of this process. And rather than having to re-live the facts over and over each time someone asks, I'll just write them here once: Anencephaly affects 1 in about 1000 births. It can have varying degrees of severity, most of which are fatal. The baby is alive and moving and has a heartbeat, because of my body doing the involuntary functioning for her. Once outside of the womb, the portion of the brain responsible for carrying out involuntary processes, is missing, and survival is at most a few hours to a few days. We are getting a second opinion at a specialists office. We want certainty before we make any further decisions. We also believe in life at conception, and want to give this baby the best life possible- be it in or out of the womb. Anencephaly is a neural tube defect that occurs for unknown reasons around the 26th day of life. No one could have known, and no one is responsible for the diagnosis. It is just a diagnosis. And doctors have been wrong. We are not set on a "false hope". But are preparing for the worst while hoping for the best. As sad as we are, we probably will not attempt to have more biological children. The risk of complications like this in another pregnancy, is slim. We aren't done for the sake of fear. We are done because we were done long ago, and the physical toll of pregnancy on my body is long and hard. If we want more children later, we will adopt. We will need lots of prayer. We are walking day by day, moment by moment. Not only is it a difficult situation, but we have four other small children to care for. Please be petitioning on our behalf over the course of the next few weeks and months. Your prayers really are the most valuable. "Grander earth has quaked before Moved by the sound of His voice And seas that are shaken and stirred Can be calmed and broken for my regard Through it all, through it all, my eyes are on You. Through it all, through it all it is well. Through it all, through it all my eyes are on You, and it is well, with me. Far be it from me to not believe Even when my eyes can't see That this mountain that's in front of me Can be thrown into the midst of the sea Through it all, through it all, my eyes are on You. Through it all, through it all it is well. Through it all, through it all my eyes are on You, and it is well, with me. Let go, my soul, and trust in Him. The waves and wind still know His name. Let go, my soul, and trust in Him, the waves and wind still know His name. The waves and wind still know His name. It is well with my soul. It is well with my soul. It is well with my soul. It is well, it is well with my soul. Through it all, through it all, my eyes are on You. Through it all, through it all it is well. Through it all, through it all my eyes are on You, and it is well, with me." (It is well, Kristine DiMarco, Bethel Music)
7 Comments
Chocky Warrinerq
1/21/2015 10:41:05 pm
The Warriner Clan is lifting the Curzio`s up in prayer!!! Bri, you are beautiful woman of God, continue to stand on Christ the solid Rock!! We Love you!!!
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Maria Southard
1/21/2015 11:34:37 pm
Bri prayers for you all! I have to tell you that He is Mighty and Powerful and yes He makes miracles happen. Baby James is a living miracle of His. I was misdiagnosed with a bad disease when I was about 13 weeks pregnant with baby James. The disease was going to give the baby birth defects,etc. But after much praying further testing showed that I didn't have anything and that the baby was healthy.
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Katia Wickmann
1/22/2015 12:07:37 am
praying for discernment and peace!
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Barbara George
1/22/2015 04:19:25 am
Bri, You are right the enemy comes to steal kill and destroy! First of all I hear the word coming from your heart as you speak. That does not make it any easier(especially when you have a brain that is trying to reason this out because you are a fleshly being) Know that when I was pregnant with your cousin Tiffany I was in and out of the hospital throughout the whole pregnancy. To save time, they told me everything that could go wrong since I was diabetic and how she could be affected from it. I held fast to my faith and what the word of God
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Barbara George
1/22/2015 04:33:05 am
Bri Know that uncle Dave and I are praying with you guys for a glorious outcome! I was in and out of the hospital the whole time I was pregnant with Tiffany. They were always telling me what could and probably would be wrong with her. I just held on to the Word of God. She is fine and one of the smartest people I know. The devil tried to get me off track many times. ( I can not say he did not succeed a few times) If we were not human and did not have a brain...sometimes we would be fine LOL! I hear the Word of God pouring out from your heart! Just grab on to His shirt tails and don't let go! It is fine to ask others to help you lift your hands at this time. Lots of hugs! And know that we are always here for you.
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Dawn Papp
1/22/2015 10:55:59 am
You never cease to amaze me. Your faith, your strength, your wisdom, we are praying for God's healing in more ways than one. Our love goes out to you and the family.
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AuthorBri is the mom to four little people, the wife to a gentle giant, and a lover of Jesus. She's figuring out the best ways to parent by trial and error, and sharing her struggles, successes, and stories with you! Archives
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