Everyone has a story...

This is a long one...sorry

Everyone has a story…

Isn’t it true that everyone you meet has their own unique story? It’s what makes life so interesting when you are getting to know someone or when someone you have known for a long time shares deeper places with you. Each journey seems to be unique to that person with their own set of challenges and triumphs. Jeremy and I feel like we are embarking on a remarkable adventure right now-- getting the opportunity to be parents. But this part of our story, like so many others, did not come easy.

Many of you know this but Jeremy and I have struggled with infertility for three years. We were told in August this year, “You will never have children together.” I cannot sum up or even put into words the kind of pain that infertility inflicts on a couple. It is a deep, guttural, empty ache and if you are reading this and have had to endure infertility I am truly sorry (and I know that is not enough but I can at least understand a small piece of what you are feeling). I was looking back at some journaling from the time we were in the midst of our struggle…

“A guest speaker was talking about going through the deep waters of our lives. These are the seasons in life when things have crashed around you, you have hit the lowest low, the bottom of the barrel and then some. These moments are unable to be expressed with words because the words simply cannot express the pain and depth of feeling. He went on to say that when we have these moments and we feel like we are treading water, unable to move in any direction, terrified that at any moment our strength will go out and we will sink and be overcome, that is when God is most near to us, that is when He is carrying our weight.”

I wrote… It sounds a little like a hallmark card but when I think about the deep waters that I have experienced in my life and how they have changed me I can say that in those darkest moments I never once questioned the presence of God in my life. He has been my constant comforter. I can feel his sadness over what I have to go through, I can feel his broken heart as he watches me grieve, and his absolute acceptance of me regardless of how dark my life has become, and how much I have lost hope. I believe that even when I have lost all hope in myself, he still has hope for me.

A book I just read called Angry Conversations with God talked about the dark places as well. “A sixteenth century monk wrote a treatise called Dark Night of the Soul. When we first know God, he lavishes us with blessings and signs of his love, the way you do with your children when they’re small. But God wants us to grow up. So he removes his blessings. The sense of his presence. And even signs of love. Because he wants us to trust what we can’t see, to believe we’re loved even if we can’t feel it, to walk by faith and not by sight. And maybe he wants me to love him for himself, not for what I can get out of him. Well, if that’s where I am, then okay. I can be here. I’m in my own Dark Night of the Soul. And I’m just waiting for my sun to come up.”

I can completely relate to this as well. There have been many times in this process and in life where I feel like I am waiting for the sun to come up. Learning to love and trust God in the midst of life crashing down around me has been a process. Believing that God has a plan for me, he knows the desires of my heart, and even though his answer is sometimes “No or Not Now,” he is still good and his love is never failing.

During our journey with infertility we tried to adopt but one agency rejected us because of my medical history of having cancer. Other adoption agencies had closed doors at the time we were looking. Most infertility treatments were not an option because of our circumstances and the ones that were available were not what we wanted or we worried that my body couldn’t handle the stress of it all.

Through many different events, doctors, tests, and closed doors we were told by one doctor that the only thing we could try if we wanted to have ‘natural’ children was Invitro (this previously hadn’t even been an option because of our circumstances). Invitro is not covered by insurance, is very invasive for the woman, involves a lot of and a very strict regiment of drugs, and the place we found had a 70% success rate—which they make very clear in the beginning it doesn’t always work. Not to mention the moral and ethical views about invitro. But again God was faithful; he provided a way even though it was going to take some major sacrifices and steps of faith.

And here we are…almost 26 weeks pregnant with twin babies, a boy and a girl. As the guy at the pedicure place said “Oh, you so lucky!” Yes—I can’t express how truly thankful we are for this gift. It seems to me that it was meant to be…God knew all along the babies that he had for us. And in the midst of the struggles that Jeremy and I have been through I can tell you that we have found a deeper and more profound love and commitment for each other.

We wanted to share these pieces of our story so you could get a glimpse of why we chose the names we did. So the names of our babies are:

Baby Girl--Elliana Rae Slaughter

Elliana is Hebrew it means “my God has answered me.” Rae is English meaning “doe.” We are going to call her Ellie or Ellie Rae as a nickname. The other cool thing about her name is that her first and middle name have a letter that corresponds to a letter in our moms, sisters, and grandmas names--Elnora, Mary, Dorothy, Arleen, Sherilyn, Dianna, Shanna, Sarah. Elliana Rae will have a little piece of each of them in her name. What a tribute to all of the wonderful women who have poured into our lives.

Baby Boy--James Mark Slaughter

This name we chose more for the men who have impacted our lives in a substantial way, our dads. James Reid—is Jeremy’s dad, James is a family name. Mark—is my dad. We wanted to choose a strong name for our baby boy, the books of James and Mark in the bible are some of our favorites­­­ as well—there are profound truths in each and each points back to Jesus. James is Hebrew and means one who supplants, Mark means warlike. So to sum up his name he is a supplanting, warlike, slaughterer—reminds me of Mel Gibson in Braveheart.

So there they are James and Ellie. Please keep them in your prayers as we take one day at a time. Our prayer is for their health and growth and that my body would allow me to carry them for as long as I can. Thanks for taking the time to read this…I know it’s a long one.