"HE IS ABLE"- Pregnancy This Time Around

It's been over two years since I have written a blog post, and I haven't regretted it one bit. Raising Brady has been such a delight, with joyful memories and lessons learned along the way. As of late though, I've had such an itch to write again. I blame it on being pregnant. Something about being pregnant always brings out the writer in me. Today I wanted to share how this pregnancy has been up to this point, but before I do, I want to paint a little background picture first.

Those who have been around for a while know all about Brady's pregnancy and birth story. I shared it knowing that we overcome by the blood of Jesus and the words of our testimonies. Having a family has been just that, my testimony. After having Brady, God used him to speak to my heart in a variety of ways. I've been shown what unconditional love looks like, what grace looks like at a deeper level, and about sacrifice. I've also had to run to God in moments of pure frustration when I wasn't sure I could take one more cry, or hearing the word no, or any other ugly thing that a two year old can bring out of his momma's heart. When Brady turned two, there was a moment of jealousy that he didn't have a sibling on the way, unlike so many people I knew who had a child Brady's age. Funny enough, there was hardly ever questions from people asking if we were going to expand our family. I believe people were just being gracious and not wanting to ruffle feathers, knowing what we went through, but there was still a little sting that it was rarely brought up in conversations.

I'll never forget, one night as my husband and I were watching an episode of Grey's Anatomy, that at the end of the episode I just balled, telling my husband "I really think Brady was meant to be a big brother." From that moment, we began trying. From that May until December, we were met with disappointment as it just wasn't happening like we had hoped. I constantly went back and forth in my thoughts on whether this is what we really wanted or not, because when a two year old starts having their terrible two moments, you start to doubt if you can handle more. I once drove to a store after a frustrating evening and called my older sister to let it all out. In the moment, I shared that "maybe this is why God is not giving me another child, clearly I can't even handle one!" She calmed me down and said that what I just shared out loud was a lie from the enemy, and that that is not the truth at all. With highs and lows of parenting, and with no sign of a positive pregnancy test, you could see how I was confused on if this was going to happen or not.

Then at the beginning of January, things changed. My husband and I had attended a three day event at our church called "Prepare," which we watched from the comfort of our living room (because we wanted to keep with Brady's bed time.) Before the first night service began, I wrote in my journal what I was praying and believing for. I specifically asked for guidance on whether we were to continue trying for a second child or not. The guest pastor spoke on how Jesus restored the sight of two blind men in Matthew 9:27. As the message went on, I wrote in my journal the following: "People pray safe when they've lost sight. Stop allowing your experience to shape your theology. You keep praying too low to protect your heart from disappointment." The theme of "He Is Able" became my daily prayer and what I claimed over this whole thing. At the end of the night, Jearen and I were both in tears, sitting in silence for a good ten minutes after the service was over. In that moment, God aligned our hearts in unity. We both knew that we were meant to keep trying, that God was restoring our sight, and that we should stand on the foundation that HE IS ABLE.

I let my sister and a few close friends know about our prayer and how we felt God clearly spoke to us. At the end of January, even though I didn't seen this promise fulfilled yet, I held onto hope.

Another month rolled by, and I was met with disappointment again. I sat with my sadness that day, and allowed myself time to process my emotions, but I still remained hopeful.

In March, I was two days late when I took a pregnancy test. It was 4pm in the afternoon, and I know you're "supposed" to wait until the morning for the most accurate results, but I just couldn't. What I saw was a faint positive, but a positive non the less. I was in complete shock! What felt like an eternity from May up unto this point, also only felt like a minute from when God spoke to us in January. I couldn't believe it. My immediate prayer, and what I have prayed everyday since, was that this would be a long, boring, pregnancy with no complications, because HE IS ABLE to provide just that.


Since that test, I have seen His hand throughout each weekly milestone. The first time we had a sonogram, we saw a perfectly round yoke sac with a steady heart beating in this new miracle of ours.

We have seen high progesterone levels from the first round of blood work I had, indicating that I would not need additional progesterone in my first trimester. We have seen the baby continuing to grow right on schedule, and we have seen this baby completely protected from the car accident we we were in last month. With all of these things, we can't help but be thankful and praise God for these gifts and answers to a healthy pregnancy.

With all of this being said, I do have two pray request. The first is that last week I experienced one small episode of bleeding, which allowed me to get a sonogram a few hours after, with no indication of anything wrong. The doctor did say that it looked like my placenta was somewhat low, covering a sliver of my cervix, causing the bleeding I just had. The term placenta previa isn't something that is diagnosed until at least 18 weeks, and she assured me that there is still time for it to move higher as I continue to grow. So pray for just that- that the placenta moves out of the way!

Second prayer, is that because I have a history of preterm labor, I will be having cervical checks every two weeks through a sonogram. When I delivered Brady early, we discovered it was because the bleeding I had caused the tissue in my cervix to deteriorate, which caused my cervix to shorten. These checks are to be precautionary, and I am fine with that. I will also be given progesterone shots every week (again, this is due to having preterm labor history). My prayer here is that my body will do fine with these injections, and that my husband will have patience & support as he has to deal with his wife's pregnancy hormones on steroids.

I won't lie, this past week I have felt down and in the dumps about having to get these shots. I've thought the worst, and want to remember that GOD IS ABLE still, and that this pregnancy can still be long and boring, even with these shots.

If you have read this far, bless you! I am one to give lots of details in my story telling, so I know you just read through a lot. Even though sometimes the circumstances I'm in are not what I would have picked, I know that God is with me and will never leave me. Whatever your circumstances are right now, I pray you know that He is for you and has a plan for you as well.

-Becky

9 Lessons Learned During My Twenties

My 30^th Birthday is approaching in just two weeks! I know for some, that is a life changing experience, with bucket lists to cross off, big life goals to achieve and changes you want to make. Leading up to these last few weeks of my twenties, there hasn’t been many thoughts to this new age category I am going to enter. In these past two days, my mind has been flowing with thoughts of where I am in life, what I am still waiting on, what I still want, etc. Negative Nancy was setting up shop in my mind, and I immediately had to kick her out!

It’s not that I am not happy with where I am in life, because I am. I was just thinking of what I “thought” my life should look like at the age of thirty: living in that new brick home with the big yard, being a big name teacher in a well achieved school, having a better hairstyle instead of my go-to-Becky-Bun. It is lame to live life with a bunch of unmet expectations that YOU placed on yourself. It’s easy to look around on social media and think you should have different things based on what other people like, have, and do. Can I just be the one to advocate for the people who are HAPPY with what they have, and dare to say content, even though they may not have the shiniest, prettiest, coolest whatever. I can, and I will! This post is not for everyone, but everyone can read along. These are just my thoughts on what I learned in my twenties. Maybe it will encourage someone in college making decisions about what’s next. Maybe it will make someone laugh as they have an “I’ve been there-done that” memory. Maybe it will bring a sense of peace to someone who thinks they have to figure everything out this very second. And maybe, just maybe, it will bring some contentment to you and your situation. That is my biggest hope in this post. Plus, it will be fun to share lessons learned, knowing FULL WELL I still have a long life ahead of me with SO MUCH MORE to learn.

1.     College is what you make it. I went into college not having any idea what I wanted to do with my life. I just graduated high school, where I was VERY involved in all the things: drill team, choir, yearbook, tennis, FCA, and a youth group at church. Entering college, I had none of that. I had help from FAFSA to pay my tuition, went to school and church and that’s about it. I thought about rushing a sorority, but was scared that the Christian women in my life would think I was a wild child, so I didn’t. Dumb reason not to do something, but I eventually learned that you shouldn’t try pleasing other people all the time. I read the book Approval Addiction by Joyce Meyer in college. That book helped me realize that about myself and began my journey in not being so consumed of what other people thought of me. I also learned that some people start building their portfolios and work internships and hold part time jobs and still manage to make A’s in their classes. I was not one of those people. I learned I had to study for hours on end to make a decent B, and that was ok.

2.    Long Distance Relationships DO work. Entering into my junior year of college, I volunteered to work at a youth camp to be a part of the recreation team. Had I not been involved in a Christian organization on campus, I probably wouldn’t have had that opportunity. Being on the Rec Crew, I became friends with a stud of a guy who was also in college, only his campus was an hour and a half away from mine. We began dating that fall (August 15^th, 2008 to be exact) and had to do the long distance thing for over a year. I would say that phone calls, texts, weekends and events made the long distance part easy, but really it was knowing that God brought us into each other’s life for a reason. We trusted each other, and God, and I truly believe that having Christ at the center of a relationship is really what made the long distance doable. Which brings me to my next lesson…

3.    It’s OK to marry young. Jearen and I knew we were made for each other, we were in love, and we wanted to spend our lives together ASAP. We married when he was 21 and I had just turned 23. We had hand-mi-down furniture, one car, and minimal finances. To us, the material things would come down the road. Sometimes people oppose young people getting married, but I think it is because of their own fears, failed marriages, etc. Don’t let those people get you down! We made our commitment to each other on 7.10.2010 and have been happily married ever since. I understand some people wait to tie the knot until they are more financially stable, which is fine. However, that wasn’t our concern, and that’s ok.

4.    Love those friends in your life. After we first got married, I remember feeling sad that I was in a new city with no friends around. It took some time, but I have found my lifers. The ones that I share so many memories with. The ones that have seen me cry, laugh, try new things, begin a career, have a baby, suffer loss, eat good meals and share good stories with. During these past ten years, some friends have come and gone, some friendships don’t run as deep as they did once before, some just pick right back up where you left off, even if its been months since you’re seen each other. Have I cried and worried myself silly when I felt that drift of friendships? YES! But I have learned that sometimes, it has nothing to do with you. Sometimes physical distance and time does play a factor in how close a friendship feels. I have learned that as hurt as you may feel by that friendship that just sort of vanished, don’t let that hurt keep you back. Pray about your friendships. Know that the Lord is going to put people in your life for different seasons. And if one of those friendships boils back up to the surface after you thought it was over, love that friend. Life is too short to hold onto an offense. Sure, you may have a different level of friendship and you may feel leery to try to bring that depth back. Don’t worry about the depth. Be yourself. Love and be invested. If it’s just a surface level friendship, you don’t need to worry or lose sleep over what the other person is thinking of you. This goes without saying that toxic relationships need to be cut out for good, but I am really just referring to friendships that feel close for a season, then a little more distant in the next season, then close again. Just let God hold your friendships in His hand and trust that He knows what is best for you, and them! I also learned that I DON’T like doing life alone. So if I can be with a friend celebrating, or laughing, or crying, or drinking a glass of wine on a back porch, I will.

5.    Having that dream job takes time. It wasn’t until the end of my junior year of college that I knew I wanted to be a teacher. After graduating, taking an alternative certification route, working at a preschool and applying for an entire summer, I finally landed the teacher job I was working hard for. I just finished my second year teaching 5^th grade, and I realize that I want to keep growing in my career. I want to have better teaching strategies, use more technology that interest the students, have better communication with parents, and master the curriculum that I teach. Can I do all of that in a day? No. So I am learning that things take time. It’s ok to take that job that is going to help you pay the bills but may not be your dream job. You can save up and get there eventually. I am realizing that I need more years of experience before I will be some big shot teacher. I’m sure you’ve heard that saying “Bloom where you are planted.” Well, that is my thought right now with teaching. If you are in your twenties and can’t stop thinking about the ultimate job, work hard and keep reaching for that dream, but don’t just stop because of the amount of time it takes you to get there.

6.    A traditional single family home is not the only home you can love. When we lived in our apartment, we searched for a home to buy. We searched and found some beauties with terrible foundations. We then found a 2 bedroom condo that would be perfect for our budget, not to mention it was only the two of us. We closed on the house, invited friends over to paint our new home, and moved in. I never thought I would own a condo, which people assume is an apartment and think we pay rent all the time, to which we respond with “Nope, we own it.” Not trying to sound snooty, it just isn’t the home people think you should own I guess. This July we will have lived here for 5 years. It’s hard to believe the amount of blessings this house has brought us, including two dogs, a healthy baby boy, family and friend gatherings, and a safe place to live, love, and relax. I know there will be a day when we do move into a brick home with a big yard, so please don’t think I am bashing those.  I’ve learned to love this little home, knowing one day we will outgrow this place (the walls are already closing in on me, haha), and then this place will become the perfect home for a new family. So if you are living in an apartment, a condo, a mobile home, your parents home, or even own your dream home, love exactly what you have. I know that sounds hard to do with Pinterest giving you a million and one new home décor ideas and renovation projects you should tackle, but stop, take a look around, and know that you are blessed in your living quarters!

7.    It’s not the end of the world if you change churches, or step away from ministry. I feel so taboo writing this, but I cannot tell you how many times I have heard pastors say things like “God is not in the moving business.” To someone who may be on the edge of their seat, ready for a change because they are not being challenged, spiritually changed, maybe the church just isn’t the right fit for their family, they could hear that quote and feel stuck. My husband and I were on the side of things where we overly-committed because we loved to serve, but would feel drained. After attending several churches, we finally realized why we were drained. It wasn’t because of the work we were doing, it was because our hearts weren’t in it. That’s a big pill to swallow when that was your life, or at least what you expected for yourself. We were doing things because we were expected to, because we were available, because it was familiar, but we were not taking the time to actually pray about it. We stepped away from being involved and eventually found a new church. Did God strike us down? No. In fact, we feel like we have a healthy perception now of serving, and feel like we made a decision together as a couple based on prayer, having peace, and knowing that it was best for us. I am involved volunteering at our new church (which technically we have been attending for almost two years now, so it’s not so new anymore) on the Worship Team. We also learned just how important it is to have a relationship with Christ that YOU are responsible for. Not your pastor. Not your friend. You. Christ is still at the center of our lives, and we have learned it’s ok to not have a special title/position alongside our name.

8.    Family is Everything. Over the past ten years, I have had an uncle die, a grandmother die, Jearen’s aunt and Grandaddy pass away, three nieces born, parents divorce, parents remarry, a miscarriage, have a healthy baby boy, siblings graduate, siblings move, and celebrated every holiday in between. I know I am very fortunate when it comes to family. I have a Dad, Step Mom, Mom, 2 Brothers and their wives, 2 sisters and their husbands, a husband of my own, his whole family, and all the grandbabies in our family. There is an immense amount of love between all of us, and it goes without saying how when I say Family is Everything, I mean it. Does that mean that we never have fights, disagreements, hurt feelings, worry? No. But even then its far and few between. These are my people and they mean the world to me. I have learned just how important making phone calls are. How family gathers may take work to plan all the details and get everyone on board, but it’s SO worth it. We laugh until our sides hurt when we are together. We make new memories with all the little kids in the family. We share a love for baseball (even though what once was a Cardinals only family has turned into a Cardinals/Rangers/Redsox family). Don’t take your family for granted. Don’t be ashamed of your upbringing. Don’t apologize for what you did or didn’t have growing up. Hold your family tight, love them with all you have, and invite others into your fun gatherings. Many of my friends got to know my family growing up, and I am so glad they did.

9.    Be yourself. Yeah, that can be intimidating when your true self is sillier than the next person. When you love really cheesy movies and enjoy making those around you feel valued. I learned I really love having photos of everything in my life. I learned I am optimistic and I’m always looking for the bright side. I learned that I could do hard things with God’s help. I learned that I really love Texas country music. I am fine without makeup and also love getting dolled up for my man. I love being out with my friends, and snuggling up on the couch alone watching reality TV shows. I love cleaning things and throwing out anything that doesn’t get used. I love Texas Rangers baseball and yelling from my seat. I like traveling across the U.S. and find small towns fascinating. Maybe you are like me, or maybe you don’t like a single thing I just listed. But I learned in my twenties, that people will either like you, or they wont. Don’t hide away from the things you love or want to do because it isn’t popular. Be yourself. Those who are meant to be in your tribe will love you and they NEED you. I learned that I may not be this or that, but that the exact person I am is NEEDED, not just in my social circle, but in my family and in my marriage. And, I just happen to think that God needs me to be me too, after all, he did create me and give me all these things that make me, me.

I remembered that 10 years ago, none of this was on my radar. I was just a sophomore in college, with no plans for my future ahead of me. At the time I wasn’t career driven, in love, or even holding my own. Being a Christian, I believe that God ordains my steps in the direction he wants me to go. Ten years ago, I wouldn’t have dreamed up where I am now, but what a blessing it is to be here alongside my best friend, my baby boy, and all the experiences I have gained. Long story short, I AM happy to enter this next chapter of life with no regrets and no big list of things I must achieve to prove my worth in this world. Here is looking at you, 30!

The Story of BAM: Part Four

*Hey everyone! Just as a heads up: THIS IS LONG! I wrote this one early morning during my maternity leave to remember everything that lead up to us having our sweet son, Brady. There will be four parts to this story, and I hope you stick around for all four! These posts serve two purposes. The first is for memory sake, so that I can remember the moments, the details, the emotions that brought us to where we are now. The second purpose, and the one that really holds dear to my heart, is that this will bring HOPE to others. Whether it is hope for having a baby, or something else that you're longing for, my prayer is that my story gives seeds of hope to those who need it. So if you read this and you know someone who could benefit from hearing my story, please feel free to share with them. I'm a firm believer that everyone's story can help someone else, no matter how big or small you may feel it is.*

It was 2am on October 9^th, 2016 and I needed to get out of my hospital bed to use the restroom. When I went to get up, my water broke. I walked over to the toilet, and knew it was happening. I was about to give birth to my son. I called over to Jearen to wake up, saying that I think my water broke, and he rushed over. I wasn’t panicked, but laughed and said “well now what?” Mind you, we were told I would be in the hospital on bed rest for weeks, and it had only been 4 days. We had no time to take a breathing class, birthing course, nothing. Jearen called for our nurse, and she did a test to see if my water did in fact break. She confirmed it, and we just laughed again. Like ok, here we go. We literally just talked last night about being ready in case he decided to come out early, threw together a birth plan, and prayed. Like just a few hours ago. It was surreal and exciting. I was surprisingly not nervous. 

This day, although two months ahead of schedule, was here and it meant that we got to meet our son, our BAM. We wheeled off to the labor section of the hospital (I was staying in the antepartum wing) and went into a delivery room. They decided it was too small of a room since I was going to need the NICU staff, being only 31 weeks and two days pregnant. We were placed into the largest room they had, with four floor to ceiling windows. Jearen had called his Dad to tell him I was in labor, and he drove up to the hospital right away. The two of them packed up our hospital room quickly while I was given another round of Magnesium to stop contractions (I guess they thought that even though my water broke, we could still prolong labor). Jearen and his Dad were right there to cool me off with cold rags since the magnesium made me insanely hot. It went by quickly and wasn’t as intense as the first time around. The nurse measured me to see how dilated I was, and I was around a 3-4. I then asked for an epidural immediately, and because of the magnesium, they had to draw my blood first before the doctor could give me the epidural. That was literally the longest and hardest part of this labor. I began feeling my contractions and knew time was ticking. Finally the blood work took place, which meant the doctor could come in and give me my epidural.

 Jearen was very involved with my pregnancy, always at every doctor’s visit and what not. He laughed when they told me he had to sit down when they gave me my epidural. He is strong and doesn’t get sick to his stomach, but apparently, some guys pass out when they see the needle, and they have to inforce the "sit down rule". The epidural was perfect and did not make me lose all feelings of my legs as some have told me they experienced. The doctor measured my dilatation again and I was at an 8. They did a little more prep work, and then I was at a +1, meaning I was ready to push. The on call doctor, who we literally just met the day before walked in and was ready to deliver my baby. I know some women would hate not having their personal OBGYN doctor deliver for them, but I was at complete peace. I knew she could do her job, no worries. Jearen was right by my side as it came time to push, along with a nurse who I just met. When it came time to push, I did so a few times while not taking deep enough breaths. I remember the nurse and doctor being SO kind in helping me and encouraging me to basically breathe push this baby out. I was thanking them and telling them how much I appreciated their help and kindness immediately after Brady was born. 

Brady Glenn Myers, born at 7:16am, was placed on my stomach while Jearen cut the cord, and then he was taken by a NICU nurse a few feet away to be weighed and cleaned off. I just starred at amazement at him as he was being cleaned up. Our miracle was finally in the world for us to see. The sun was rising outside of those four big windows, and I just experienced God’s love in a whole new way. I had an adrenaline like never before. Brady was placed before me to kiss before being sent down to the NICU. Jearen went down there with him, and I sat on that hospital bed feeling nothing but peace. I wasn’t scared of what just happened. I wasn’t scarred of Brady being in the NICU. God blessed me in that moment in such a real way that I had nothing but Joy! I grabbed my phone that was playing Bethel Worship Music beside me, and called my sister Kim. Jearen had all of our family notified around 4:30 am when I was getting the epidural that I was going into labor. I shared with her the good news about Brady and was on cloud 9. Then I called my Dad and he thought I just drank a few cups of coffee with my chipper tone of voice. I was just so excited. I couldn’t help it. 

Family greeted me as I was wheeled down to the NICU. Jearen and I went over to where our son was, and a NICU doctor gave me a whole low down of what was going on. I can’t remember a single word he said because I was tired, his words were overwhelming, and I was on a natural high. We took our first picture with our son, and I beamed with pride. Our little 3 pound 3 ounce baby was perfect to me in every way. He would stay in the NICU for another month & a half to grow, but what a miracle. From before he was ever created, to the time he entered the world, every single thing has been a miracle before my very eyes. I am forever thankful and blessed for this gift from God. BAM, on the day you were born, you changed my life in the best way possible, and I am honored to be your mom and share your story with the world!

The Story of BAM: Part Three

*Hey everyone! Just as a heads up: THIS IS LONG! I wrote this one early morning during my maternity leave to remember everything that lead up to us having our sweet son, Brady. There will be four parts to this story, and I hope you stick around for all four! These posts serve two purposes. The first is for memory sake, so that I can remember the moments, the details, the emotions that brought us to where we are now. The second purpose, and the one that really holds dear to my heart, is that this will bring HOPE to others. Whether it is hope for having a baby, or something else that you're longing for, my prayer is that my story gives seeds of hope to those who need it. So if you read this and you know someone who could benefit from hearing my story, please feel free to share with them. I'm a firm believer that everyone's story can help someone else, no matter how big or small you may feel it is.*

For Part One, read here.

For Part Two, read here. 

I’m so glad we finally shared the news that I was pregnant with our friends and family. Over the next month, I had several episodes were I would bleed. It was terrifying. Panic and confusion would fill my mind, fearing that I was going to lose this child. I had to go to the doctor for ultrasounds due to the bleeding more often than most pregnant women, but every time I went I got to witness the little miracle inside of me growing more and more. As the weeks passed, we took some photos to announce our pregnancy with the world, and then shortly after found out BAM, Big Amazing Miracle as we called him, was a BOY! We had a Gender Reveal Party with our families and shared the exciting news. Everything kept feeling so surreal. Besides the bleeding, I didn’t have much else to complain about when it came to being pregnant. I didn’t deal with any morning sickness. I wasn’t gaining an outrageous number of pounds. I didn’t have any aversions to scents. We enjoyed the end of our Summer and beginning of Fall together. School was fixing to start back up, and my position at work had changed to only teaching one subject for the year: Social Studies. I saw it as a blessing since I was due in December and would have to have a sub for a while. 

Around mid September, I had another bleeding episode. At this point, every time it would happen, I was told by my doctor to take it easy and get off of my feet. I was put on bed rest one weekend, and wasn’t sure if I was going to make it to December. All I could think of was how the plan was for me to have this little boy before Christmas and work as much as I could before then so that I didn’t mess with the maternity leave I was going to take. My doctor called me one day after having gone in for an ultrasound to tell me that my baby looked healthy, but was measuring a little small, so they wanted me to come back in. I tried to not let that discourage me. I woke up two days later bleeding while Jearen was out of town again, and my doctor told me I needed to go to Labor & Delivery. I called Jearen’s mom and she came to the house to drive me over there. Four hours later, and after a visit with a special sonogram doctor, I got to go home. They told me that my cervix looked a little short, and that I needed to take it easy. Returning back to work the next day, I let my principal know what was going on, and it was agreed that I could sit more/teach from my desk. 

Two weeks later, I had another bleed. Same situation where the Dr. told me to go to labor & delivery. This time Jearen was home and was the one driving me to the hospital. We played worship music the whole way there, knowing that God has brought us this far, and isn’t going to leave us. We trusted that He has been in control of this whole pregnancy, and there was no reason to fear. After another ultrasound to look at my cervix, it was decided that this time I wasn’t going to get to go home. My cervix was shortening and the doctor said “it’s like your son is a rock, rolling down a hill. We want to slow down the momentum of him rolling (aka being born).” *This is where my Dad will forever refer to Brady as Rocky now*. I was now on hospital bed rest, and it was all out of my control. Jearen went back to the house to gather our things, and we both camped out in a hospital room for a week. God Bless this sweet man I married. He is the real deal. 

On the day I was admitted, I was given magnesium to stop contractions I wasn’t even aware I was having. It made me VERY hot and I needed ice, cool rags, and my socks to be removed STAT. We had visitors stopping by daily to check on us, and BAM just kept on growing. At 31 weeks, I had another ultrasound and could see his little hair on his head. It was precious. They told us we would be in the hospital for weeks, with their goal being me getting to go home around 34 weeks with BAM still cooking. Saturday night, October 8^th, Jearen and I decided we should get a birth plan in order. We had already had a visit from the on call doctor for the weekend (who was not my OBGYN), and she suggested just printing one from The Bump’s website and going over each part together, so we did. That was at around 8 pm. I told Jearen that it was nice of every one to be praying for us, and that they were praying for Brady to make it to 38-39 weeks, but in my heart, I just didn’t think we were going to make it that long. I told Jearen that I think it was going to happen way before then, and sought after his approval for that to be ok, haha. I asked him to pray over us and BAM, knowing God had his perfect timing already set up. That was around 9pm. Jearen laid on his pull out couch two feet away from my bed, and fell asleep as we were watching SNL. I dozed off around 11:30pm…only to be woken up around 2pm because I needed to use the restroom. Only instead of that happening, my water broke!

Part 4, The Day Brady was born is up next!

The Story of BAM: Part Two

*Hey everyone! Just as a heads up: THIS IS LONG! I wrote this one early morning during my maternity leave to remember everything that lead up to us having our sweet son, Brady. There will be four parts to this story, and I hope you stick around for all four! These posts serve two purposes. The first is for memory sake, so that I can remember the moments, the details, the emotions that brought us to where we are now. The second purpose, and the one that really holds dear to my heart, is that this will bring HOPE to others. Whether it is hope for having a baby, or something else that you're longing for, my prayer is that my story gives seeds of hope to those who need it. So if you read this and you know someone who could benefit from hearing my story, please feel free to share with them. I'm a firm believer that everyone's story can help someone else, no matter how big or small you may feel it is.*

If you missed Part One, you can read it here.
We were driving home from a trip to see my family in Houston when Jearen and I were discussing our house. We wanted a bigger home, but also knew several things needed to be improved in our current home. We spent the four hour drive detailing every house project we wanted to take on. We were already pregnant at this point, and we didn’t even know it. We were itching for a change, not knowing that the answer to that change was going to be a baby on the way! The time came for my period to roll around, and because the doctor told me he wanted me to call when it came, I was more ready for it to come than usual. Day 1, 2, and 3 all passed without any signs of my cycle starting. I’ve been there before though, with things being late, so I didn’t want to get my hopes up. Then days 4,5, and 6 swept by with nothing to show for it. I was beyond nervous. I had wasted so much money buying pregnancy test before with only negative outcomes that I really didn’t want to buy more. But I did. And along with the regular priced test, I also bought a few (ok 5) from Dollar Tree because I’ve read that they are just as good. I came home, waiting for the next morning to arrive so I could take the test when the timing was right. I took the test at 6 am, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, there were two lines. It was faint, but it was there. I cried from shock, but my heart was still so hesitant that I doubted it. Maybe it was wrong. I woke up Jearen to tell him about it, and he felt the same way I did... hesitant. So I tested again the next day and got the same two faint lines. Then we decided I should wait a few days. Six tests later, all positive, it was becoming VERY real. I was pregnant. And excitement was met face to face with fear. 

Fear that this child wouldn’t make it to my womb. That it would be stuck and we would find ourselves in the same predicament as we were in January of 2014. I immediately called the fertility specialist I had just seen a few weeks ago, and told them about the positive pregnancy test. They told me that the wanted me to have some blood work done first, and then they would see me to have an ultrasound. Jearen and I prayed hard that this baby would make it to my womb. It became our biggest prayer. Most women don’t even give it a second thought if they see those two lines on a test. Due to our past though, it was very clear to us just how every part of becoming pregnant and staying pregnant was a miracle. 


I went in for blood work, and they called me at work the next day to confirm the pregnancy. I was excited, but still very concerned about where the baby was in my body. They had to draw my blood three times to check my HCG level. On the day that I was scheduled to have my blood drawn for the second time, I was at work. I had just finished class and was heading to lunch, when I felt like I was bleeding. I went to the restroom and sure enough, what looked like a full period was happening. Fear immediately took over. No one besides Jearen knew I was pregnant. I knew I needed to leave to see the doctor right away, but how? I pulled my trusty bff coworker out of the breakroom, and spoke quickly as I began looking like a ghost of my situation. She told me to go and she would handle everything at school. I drove all the way from Duncanville to Las Colinas feeling sick to my stomach, like I was about to puke. Jearen was on a work trip out of the state, and was having to hear about all of this via phone call. I walked into the doctor’s office without an appointment, and they told me that unfortunately, there was nothing they could do for me. They told me to go ahead and get my blood tested as I had already scheduled, and then once they get those results back, they would bring me in. I shakily drove myself over to get my blood drawn, just a mile from my house, then went home to curl up on the bed and watch Gilmore Girls. I was alone, cramping, and scared. I took off work the next day if I remember correctly. The day after that I had to put on my game face because we were going on a school field trip to the Zoo. I got the phone call that said my HCG level was still going up via my blood work, so they believed I was still pregnant. I was told I had a small blood clot that had caused the bleeding, but was nothing for me to worry about. Once Jearen was back in town, it was time for us to get an ultrasound done.

Hands held, we walked together into the ultrasound appointment. We prayed together before the nurse walked in, and then it was time to see the baby. We shared with the nurse our nervousness because of the ectopic pregnancy, and then not even 5 seconds into the ultrasound, the nurse said, “Well you don’t have to worry about that this time, because there is your baby.” I could not believe my eyes. My prayers were answered. There before me, on a black and white screen, was a little speck of a human being that made is safe to my womb. We held it together, but as soon as the nurse walked out, both Jearen and I were in tears. Our hearts were so thankful, giving all the praise to God. We both decided that we wanted to tell our family that weekend the good news. At this point, I was 8 weeks pregnant and I was about to let the secret out. My first phone call was to my sister Kim. I face timed her as she was cooking dinner, and showed her the sonogram photo. Tears were flowing from both sides of that phone call. We drove to Stephenville to share the news with my family that weekend, and Jearen shared the news with his family. Another miracle before our eyes, this was only the beginning.

 Stay tuned for Part Three!!

The Story of BAM: Part One

*Hey everyone! Just as a heads up: THIS IS LONG! I wrote this one early morning during my maternity leave to remember everything that lead up to us having our sweet son, Brady. There will be four parts to this story, and I hope you stick around for all four! These posts serve two purposes. The first is for memory sake, so that I can remember the moments, the details, the emotions that brought us to where we are now. The second purpose, and the one that really holds dear to my heart, is that this will bring HOPE to others. Whether it is hope for having a baby, or something else that you're longing for, my prayer is that my story gives seeds of hope to those who need it. So if you read this and you know someone who could benefit from hearing my story, please feel free to share with them. I'm a firm believer that everyone's story can help someone else, no matter how big or small you may feel it is.*

I’m going to start this story by giving a brief description of what lead up to the arrival of our son, Brady Glenn Myers. Okay, maybe not as brief as I am one to give all the details in a story (sorry husband, I know that annoys you, lol). From the moment we found out we were pregnant, we were elated. Every single moment felt so surreal. Like why now? Why us? We felt so privileged. Our pregnancy came as a bit of a surprise, as I only had one fallopian tube remaining after an emergency surgery that almost cost me my life. I was pregnant at the end of November of 2013, and we had celebrated big and shared the news with our closest friends and family during the Christmas season. However, at the beginning of January 2014, heartbreak came as I had an ectopic pregnancy causing the baby to be stuck inside my right fallopian tube, and surgery to remove my ruptured tube took that sweet little angel to Heaven. To read more about that, click here. From that moment on, we had tried to get pregnant again with no success. I was having to face the reality that having children may never be in our cards, and that came with months of sadness and defeat.

Jump forward to the spring of 2015. I had gone to a fertility specialist to be examined. They were going to check out my left tube to see if there was any blockage. The exam (known as an HSG) was painful, but I breathed my way through it and left in tears. I remember sitting in my car right after, feeling so broken. I remember feeling like I was no good for Jearen, a waste of a wife who would never be able to have his children. I felt alone. I didn’t understand why I was the one going through this. And this was just after the exam. The same feelings showed back up after the fertility specialists rushed me through a consult to basically tell me that IVF was the only answer. I remember that day well. Jearen was with me for that consultation, and as we got home, I broke down. I couldn’t believe it. I stood in our dining room crying, as my sweet husband held me. He looked me in the eyes, and told me all of the following:

• We were just going to have to believe God for a miracle.
• If it just wasn’t meant to be for us to have kids, that that was ok too.
• He loved me no matter what.
•  I wasn’t a waste.
• I was everything to him.

Oh that sweet man of mine. Those words began a journey of healing for me. Healing for the child we had lost. Healing for the news we just received. Healing to trust God no matter where He takes me. *I told you I love details….so this is most likely going to be a LONG story, but it is one I always want to remember*

Then came the summer of 2015, just a few months after my healing journey began. We went on a family trip to Hawaii and celebrated our 5^th anniversary as we were there. It was a beautiful trip! I do remember though crying to my husband as we were walking down a pier, apologizing for not having a kid by now. Our “goal” was to have a kid by the time we were five years into our marriage, and we used to talk about that all of the time. Imagine being a planner like myself and not being able to say you were successful in making something you always planned happen. Oh man, I’ve learned so much through this. Especially how to let go of control, and little did I know then how much control I would have to give up. After that trip to Hawaii, we traveled to Boston for a week for Jearen’s job, and then to Belize with other parts of our family. That trip was amazing too, but it was a scuba diving trip for Jearen and his brother, so while they spent most of their time exploring in the ocean, I was lounging by the pool reading and working on my tan burning.

As I was doing that, I read a book by Pete Wilson called Plan B. Basically saying how sometimes our life doesn’t turn out the way we plan, and that’s ok. It was a life changing book for me, in the sense that I finally found a peace to not being pregnant. And that was hard, being that many months leading up to that moment were met with tears flowing as Aunt Flo showed up, or the testing stick was another negative, yet again. The day after I finished the book, as we were on this trip, I started my period (sorry TMI, but this IS a story about becoming pregnant, so…) and I had complete peace. Like OK God, I trust you. I am not mad, sad, angry, or bitter. The following months brought about the same kind of peace. And truth be told, I gave up in trying to get pregnant. I didn’t want the pressure. I didn’t want to feel confused. I basically gave up trying.

A year went by, and my husband brought up trying again. Maybe all we needed was a second opinion. And lots of prayer. We had this discussion as we were on a romantic getaway to Chicago for Valentine’s Day that Jearen worked up all on his own. The day before our trip was over, we finally had “the talk.” I had pushed this topic of child bearing under the rug because hello, it hurt. Moving on with life made more sense and was less painful then discussing seeing another specialist for a second opinion. But, that is what we decided to do. Several weeks after our trip, I found myself walking into a different fertility specialists’ office, feeling as though I was literally going to poop my pants be sick from being so nervous. I was too far into my cycle to be examined by another HSG exam, so the doctor told me to call back once I have started my period so that they could schedule me in to be seen. He made me feel like I didn’t have to rush out the door which was nice, and gave me lots of hope.

 Having been told IVF was my only option before, this doctor made me feel like there were several other options we could try before ever having to come to that. I remember asking him “So should we still try in the meantime?” And he said, “YES! Just try a little sooner than you have been.” Ok, sounds good. I have a plan now, and it doesn’t include IVF at this point. So, I went home, and we “tried”…and then tried some more. Two days after the consultation, we conceived. On our own, without IVF. It was JUST the beginning of this miracle.

Come back for The Story of BAM: Part Two!

-Becky

How To Start A Hobby When You're Afraid of Criticism

If you have been holding back from truly enjoying a hobby because you're afraid of criticism, or have thought you weren’t good enough to do something you really wanted to do, this blog is for you. I want to encourage you today that if you have a hobby (or want to pick up a hobby), don’t let what other people may or may not think about you stop you!

While I was sitting outside enjoying the Texas weather this week, I realized how much I missed one of my favorite hobbies: blogging. I logged onto my blog to see when I had posted last; surprised to see it had been over a year since I had written anything. Besides the obvious excuse of time getting in the way, working full time, and having a baby and all, I was left thinking of how much I worry about other people’s thoughts when it came to me blogging. There has been so much I have learned through this new season of motherhood that I find myself wanting to share, but then never do because “what if so and so hates it?” Or I think “I am not a “Mom Blogger” so whatever I have to say won’t matter as much.”

 I can be so hard on myself sometimes, and in learning to be exactly who I am, I have to realize that it’s ok if not everyone likes me. That is a hard pill for me to swallow, but its reality. I even reposted a message about not being everyone’s cup of tea this morning, which was just another reminder of why I wanted to post this blog today. I can’t allow how people perceive me to be the lens in which I view myself. After having that short revelation, I decided that I am going to blog again. I started a blog back in 2010, and in my seven years of blogging, have I reached stardom or fame? Heavens no! Have all of my posts been thought provoking or challenging? That would be another no.

As I looked back at my old posts, I recognized that blogging will always serve as a hobby for me.  I don’t have to be perfect. I can simply enjoy it for the two reasons I created a blog in the first place: to capture my life, and to encourage others. #simpleasthat The photo below is of my husband & I snorkeling in Hawaii. Scuba Diving is a hobby of my husband's, because he is WAY braver that I, but I would say snorkeling is a hobby of mine now that I have done it twice. Let this photo be a reminder to go out there and try something you wanna do!

There is no pressure here in this hobby of mine because I am not getting paid here, and this is certainly not my career. This is where I think a lot of us get hung up when it comes to our hobbies. We expect perfection from ourselves. On the other hand, we compare our hobby to someone with the same interest, and rob ourselves of the joy that experience/hobby has for ourselves.

Maybe you can relate. You may really enjoy photography, but think sharing with the world will leave you with critics. Perhaps you make a mean lasagna (I have still YET to even attempt this dish!), have your own recipes, and enjoy cooking up anything and everything, but feel as though you don’t compare to someone else you know who has the same interest. I feel as though many of us keep our hobbies hidden. I’m not necessarily saying you have to go overboard and live stream yourself doing your hobby everyday, but I am saying don’t be afraid! Your hobby can be a number of things: singing, speaking, mothering, saving money, hosting fabulous parties, being well organized, playing a certain sport, working out, crafting, fishing, you name it. I love tennis, and consider it a hobby of mine, even though I am TERRIBLE at it and my husband thinks I should take some lessons. #cantstopwontstop

My challenge for you is this: find a hobby that you are interested in and GO for it. Do it despite being afraid. Do it despite how good at it you are. Do it despite what others may think of you. The beauty of a hobby is that you can learn, grow, and just enjoy the experience. No one is expecting perfection. No one is saying your hobby has to look just like so & so. Just do you, Boo Boo! Now go out & enjoy that hobby of yours!

What have you wanted to try? What hobby have you desired to pick up but have been too afraid to begin?  I’d love to connect with you and cheer you on!