As I wrap up this series, I’ve a story yet to tell.
See, I’d be greatly amiss if I told you the stories of all of the amazing women in my life but failed to mention one in particular… if I didn’t tell you about one more very special human who has made, of all women, the greatest impact in my life. She’s created more culture and influenced who I am as a person more than any other woman ever could.
I believe this is a story worth telling. A story worth hearing.
So, let’s begin.
Even Before I Was Born
It was the summer of 1991.
My dad (who was serving in the U.S. Air Force) had just returned from a year long remote tour in Alaska. My brother was about 16 months when my dad came home and my parents decided it was time to try for round two.
Not long after, they found out they were pregnant with me. They were excited and very prepared to welcome a second child into the family.
But it wasn’t long before things took a turn for the worse.
I mean, there was nothing wrong with me. I was just fine.
It was my mom.
She’d been pretty sick during her pregnancy with my brother, but still able to continue her work (she also served in the Air Force) through the pregnancy and could keep enough food and fluids down so as to not concern the doctors.
But it became quite clear upon becoming pregnant with me that my mom has a condition called Hyperemisis Gravidarum.
The American Pregnancy Association gives this definition: Hyperemesis gravidarum is a condition characterized by severe nausea, vomiting, weight loss, and electrolyte disturbance…. More severe cases often require a stay in the hospital so that the mother can receive fluid and nutrition through an intravenous line (IV).
(Fun fact for ya: Kate Middleton has this condition, and thusly much more research has been done on it in the past 10 years or so.)
See, my mom didn’t just have really bad morning sickness with me. She was desperately, desperately sick. She couldn’t keep anything down… like at all. She’s told me of how she would lay by the toilet because the vomiting was so constant. Now, all of us have been there with a bad stomach bug, but this wasn’t something that was going to go away in a day or two. I was there to stay for nine months and that can feel like forever when you’re in a constant state of nausea, weight loss and dehydration. If you’ve been there, for pregnancy or any other reason, you know that’s a dark and difficult place to be.
This wasn’t something a trip to the ER for fluids or a medication would fix. They tried that. Nothing seemed to work. My mom would be sent home only to return soon after, again dehydrated and unable to hold anything down.
Finally, my mom’s OB told her that he was going to admit her to the maternity floor for constant monitoring and IV fluids.
Side Note: Before I tell you the next part, which might be easy to judge, I want to say that it’s hard to explain how awful this condition is if you’ve never been there or cared for someone who has. I appear to have the same condition as my mom, but not to the same severity. (HG is statistically worse with girls and as many of you know, I’ve got all boys.) But even without being sick to the point of a hospital stay, I can honestly say that my first trimesters have been some of the darkest times of my life. I am a miserable, vomiting human for a good 18 weeks, puking anywhere from 4-12 times in a day, and then an occasional vomiter for the rest of the 9 months. I’ve calculated that I’ve probably puked somewhere in the ballpark of 1200-1500 times throughout my three pregnancies. Until about 18 weeks, eating and drinking are a chore rather than a joy and the deep and uncomfortable ache in my insides is a nearly constant companion. There is, quite honestly, little joy for my coming child at this stage… my emotions and feelings seem to go numb. When the light at the end of the tunnel seems so far off… it’s a dark and depressing place to be. Knowing my mother was far worse off than me, I’ve thought of her many times throughout my pregnancies.)
That being said, at about week 6 of the pregnancy, my mom hit a very low place. Laying there in the hospital bed, terribly nauseous, feeling horrible and hardly able to move or speak without vomiting, she knew she had at least 6-8 more weeks to go before there would be any possible relief. (I know from my more subtle experience that 6-8 weeks feels like an eternity when your body feels so at war with the little human inside.) She had a 18 month old she couldn’t care for and an exhausted husband working so hard to hold everything together.
It was at this point that my mom, who was a Christian and had always been pro-life, began to strongly consider an abortion.
When she told my dad, he was heartbroken but also torn for the intense sickness racking my mother’s body. When he left the hospital that night, my mom had made the final decision to end her pregnancy with me and has said that she was even to the point of finding out the cost and process and could possibly have gone through with it the following day.
This one decision could immediately cause her miserable sickness to come to an abrupt end.
But that night… as my mom lay there in that hospital bed broken, exhausted, and feeling she couldn’t go on… God decided, for reasons only he knows, that I needed to live. He decided to save my mom from such a heart wrenching choice.
You see, though my mom isn’t one to claim to hear “voices” or a personal “word from the Lord” … to this day she says that, as she lay there in the darkness, she heard what seemed to be an audible voice break through the stillness of the night. The message was simple.
“You can’t do this.”
That was all. That was all that was said and it was all she needed to hear. In that moment my mom knew with certainty, that no… she couldn’t do this. She couldn’t abort her child. She couldn’t give me up to end her suffering.
And by God’s good grace, she didn’t. My mom made a decision that night to heed that voice. God was the giver of life and she chose to rest in him. She chose to cling to him for the strength she didn’t possess herself.
Now, you might ask whether God blessed my mom’s decision to keep me by taking away her sickness? No, he didn’t.
God blessed my mother’s decision by granting her the strength to carry on.
Her medical team would soon realize her need for a catheter to keep her fluid intake consistently high enough for her to hold food down. She would remain in hospital for another two weeks after this and then be sent home on an IV pole for the remainder of the first trimester. Even when that was over, she would then continue to vomit at least once, every day for the rest of the pregnancy.
Her doctor told her that in the 20 years he’d been practicing, he’d never seen someone so sick as my mom.
If my mom had had that abortion, many wouldn’t have blamed her and her sickness would have immediately subsided, but she knew there was so much more to that decision.
So she chose life. My mom chose to sacrifice and to suffer so that I could live.
She’s told me many times that the first words she said to my brother when he was born were, “I love you.” And the first words she said to me were, “I’m sorry.”
But see, when I think of what my mom went through to bring me into the world, when I think of the pain, darkness, and long months she endured so I could live, all I can say is “Thank you.”
My mother let me know from before I was even born how deeply she loved me and how dedicated she was to honoring God with all that she was given, even when it cost her.
My mom could have made a very different choice… but she didn’t. She gave me life and I am forever grateful.
Culture Created
My mom created a culture that spoke loudly of the precious gift of life.
In a world that teaches that life is cheap, to be given and taken on the whim of “women’s choice”, my mom realized there was only one choice to be made. Life has great value, it must be protected and my mom’s decision made it clear that she truly believed that, even when it was far from easy.
Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward. Psalm 127:3
My mom created a culture that looked upward rather than inward.
In a world that tells women to look to themselves for strength, my mom’s story reminds us that as humans we have limits and that “inner strength” will one day run out. Yet there is a fountain and wellspring of life and strength and endurance to be had in Christ, and it alone will sustain in the darkest of times.
The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and he helps me. Psalm 28:7
My mom created a culture that encouraged patience in the waiting for the joy that is to come.
In a world that tells you to toss it out if it doesn’t bring you immediate joy, or asks more than you feel you can give… my mom was willing to endure, willing to wait, to hold on, to suffer for a time… for the joy she knew was coming. She named me Bethany Joy as a way of remembering.
…giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world. John 16:21
My mom’s story makes mine possible and brings to me the reality and truth of Psalm 139:
My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
in your book were written, every one of them,
the days that were formed for me,
when as yet there was none of them.
My mom’s story has also enabled her to encourage and bolster women suffering from HG. Women who believed they couldn’t go on. When they were in their darkest moment, she came along beside them and let them know that their child is a gift, a gift of such worth… that, by God’s grace, they can endure and there is a joy coming that will make the pain so worthwhile.
I praise God for my mom’s story and determination… for the reminder that a life has worth, that it is to be cherished.
That it’s worth suffering for… worth sacrificing for.
Her pain and her triumph were both her gain and mine.
P.S. We’ll wrap up the series next week with Part 2: The “post womb” stories. This wasn’t my original plan, but gosh… she’s just too amazing to cover in a day. š
My Family Freedom 