Happy 4th Birthday, Beckett Mason

4 years. Our baby boy is 4 years old.

Each year, as November 12th approaches, I take some time to reflect. It is an absolute blessing to raise each one of our children. Their older sister surely taught us so much about that. But, as I watch Beckett Mason successfully swim 12 feet across the pool, sing songs from his first year of preschool, recite a learned Bible verse, or talk to his dinosaurs during imaginary play on the living room floor, there are times that my eyes well with tears. Those tears are tears of gratitude and tears that know how undeserving I am to raise this child.

This year more than ever, I feel it pressed upon my heart to share Beckett’s story from the perspective of WHAT GOD DID that night. We are living in a world that lacks hope; that lacks a belief in the power and sovereignty of our God. If you need a reminder of God’s power, mercy, compassion, and love for us, His children, I pray this encourages you today.

We are raising our 4 year old son today because of the divine intervention of our gracious Lord. He performed a miracle on November 12, 2016, and there is no other explanation for why we are raising Beckett as a healthy 4 year old boy who has met every single developmental milestone. The doctors at the University of Minnesota look at us, and they tell us that there is no medical explanation for our son. None. What happened four years ago today does not make sense.

When Beckett was pulled out of me via an incredibly emergent c-section, he was dead. It took me a long time to be able to speak of that night this way. Beckett had no pulse, and he was not breathing. He had very little blood in the veins of his body. A team of people resuscitated our son for 18 minutes. Protocol in resuscitating an infant is around 10 minutes, but this team continued to work on Beckett for 18 minutes until the Holy Spirit breathed the breath of his life into his lungs. Three days later, upon being “warmed up” after undergoing neonatal therapeutic hypothermia, he underwent an MRI. It was completely and absolutely normal. Our neonatologist all but ran to our NICU nursery to tell us. They had never seen something like this.

Awhile back, our pastor gave a message in which he said, “We just have to invite Jesus to the party.” When things began to go very wrong during labor, and I knew that we were in very emergent danger, I had zero control. There was absolutely nothing I could do except for begin to pray. As a number of doctors and nurses began working to bring Beckett’s heart rate back up, I began to pray, quietly. I remember that I couldn’t even think of the words to pray, so I prayed the most basic 5 words I could think of. They are the five most powerful words I have ever uttered in my entire life. “Lord, please protect our son.” I began to say these words over and over, quietly. Then, I began to get louder and louder. As they ran my bed down the hall to the nearest OR, I was screaming these words. In desperation, I screamed these words until I was given medication to go to sleep. I invited Jesus to the party that night, and He performed a mighty miracle.

Every part of this story is God’s. Those words I uttered just before Beckett was born, they weren’t mine. They were the Holy Spirit's. 

I often ask myself, “Why?” Why us. Why did Beckett survive? Why do we get to raise him? Why do some families experience similar things, but they don’t get to raise their babies? Why are some babies resuscitated for much less time, and they experience severe developmental disabilities or pass away? God’s view is so much larger than my own, but He gives me tiny little glimpses of how He has used Beckett’s miraculous story. As Jesus says, “Unless you people see signs and wonders, you will never believe.” On this side of heaven, I will never see the broadness of the impact the miracle of Beckett’s birth has had. 

Today, my prayer is that you may read Beckett’s story and be reminded that no matter what, our God has got this. He sits on His throne. He sees all, knows all, and He loves us, His people. We may not understand why we must endure earthly circumstances, but through it all He is good.

Kylie Ryann Byer's 5th Birthday

5 years ago today, I watched that same sun rise in the same sky. It was one of the most difficult and saddest day of my life. That same God who showed up that day to comfort my broken heart is with me today. I walked down the same stairs I do every day to leave our home. I walked in the same hospital doors as I have three times since to deliver three more babies. But, me - I am not the same. With every ounce of my being, I now know that there is a God who loves me. And, I know that with Him I can do hard things. I can deliver a baby into this world who I am not going to get to raise. I can hold her and kiss her and snuggle her even though I know that her soul is already with Jesus. I can hear the cries of other babies in the hallway when deafening silence filled our room. I can stand up and walk out of that hospital empty-handed and into a home with a crib already upstairs.

The greatest gift that Kylie gave me is this: I know that no matter what - NO MATTER WHAT - God shows up. He loves us, He comforts us, and He can be glorified in any and all situations. When hard or scary things arise, I have great peace in knowing that God is in control and that He will create beauty out of every situation. That beauty may not look exactly how we want it to look, and it may not come exactly when we want it to, but God's plan is always better than ours.

Kylie Ryann Byer, thank you. Thank you for making me a mother. Thank you for all that you have taught me. I look at your two sisters and your brother, and I wonder what you would have looked like - what color your eyes and hair would be; how tall you'd be; how you'd like to wear your hair. I wonder what you'd like to do and play each day. This year, you likely would have gone to kindergarten. I can't help but to admit that I am most definitely not ready for the school years yet. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to see the joy when parenting is hard because man, you've made me so grateful to get to raise your siblings. Sweet girl, I love you so. Some day, I will hold you in my arms again. Until then, keep teaching me - to love God and people better every day. Happy 5th birthday, my girl.

Taking Our Little Humans to Church

Our son has a Little Tikes truck. In the winter time, we bring it inside. Every day, it’s driven around our kitchen and living room; through the hall of our main floor. Almost every day I hear a little voice say, “Bye Mom.” I ask, “Where are you going?” Our boy responds with, “Starbucks” or “Church” 99% of the time. The first – you be the judge of that one. Maybe Mom has a bad habit she needs to kick. Come to think about it. Nah. I’m not kicking that one any time soon. It’s a treat for a lady who’s about to welcome our 4^th baby in under 5 years. But, in all seriousness, our son’s second response has had me reflecting.

“Church” is a location we often frequent. Sundays, MOMs Group, planning meetings for Mom, dropping expense sheets off, refilling the MOMs Group storage area. Our two kids are in tow for almost every one of my adventures. And, here’s the thing. The building that houses our church community is a place they love. And, this is something I am so incredibly grateful for.

I am not naïve, I know there will likely be a time in our life that our children do not want to make the 10 minute drive to church; to sit in the seats of the building that has become so familiar to our family. But, I pray that we are building a foundation of love for a place that they are always welcome – where Jesus is so evidently present and where God calls us by name. Maybe, in the process of making their own way, they will not make it a priority to visit God’s house on a weekly cadence. Sure, that will make me sad, but here’s what I do hope. That they remember the days they gleefully ran through the halls of our big church, where they chased their friends round and round in the lobby and their mom had to apologize to church patrons on a regular basis, where their parents spent a few dollars on coffee cake and donuts after every service, where the Children’s Ministry staff knew them by name and loved on them so well, where the fountain was a great place to wash their hands, where they got to hand out programs to a bunch of people “all by themselves.” I hope they remember the times they were “talked to” by Mom and Dad after screaming out in laughter as the prayer ministers prayed with our hospitality team before service. I hope they remember the times they got to so joyfully and proudly asked the maintenance crew to open the doors to the “cave area” under the church stairs to retrieve needed items in storage.

Oh goodness, there are seasons where it’s hard. We sit in the atrium during service for several months after giving birth to a baby. I visit the nursing room smack dab in the middle of service many weeks in a row. Our toddlers go through seasons of tears when we drop them off for Kid’s Church. We shove granola bars and milk in their faces and tell them to eat quickly as we make the 10 minute drive to our church building. But, through all those seasons, even on days when I wonder why we even came, I realize that we are planting seeds.

Those tiny hands being dipped in the fountain, those little feet running the hallways, those mouths eating coffee cake after almost every Sunday service… those same hands, those same feet, those same mouths are going to be the Church’s future disciples; His future disciples. If there are days when you’re wondering if it’s even worth it to get all these little people to church, the answer is “yes.” It is 100% worth it. These seeds we are planting right now in our tiny children’s hearts may take many years to grow, but grow they will.

Past Experience Shaping Our Current Reality - Our 14 Week Appointment

At it’s most basic, trauma is defined as a “deeply distressing or disturbing experience.”

A routine 14 week appointment. Three kids alongside me. One roaming the appointment room, the other two strapped into the stroller. Three sucker sticks sticking out of three little mouths. Crackers litter the floor. Interrupted conversation with my doctor. Questions answered. Blood pressure good. Reassurance provided.

Then comes the doppler. I lay down on the table. My toddler asks me, “What you doing, Mom?” With a smile plastered on my face, I tell him that we get to hear baby sister’s heartbeat. My doctor squirts the gel on my belly and the doppler is brought to my skin. She searches. She’s making small talk. I’m responding. My heartbeat begins to quicken. She continues to move the doppler around. I hear my heartbeat thumping in my ears… it’s getting louder and louder. My doctor is still talking to me – chatting about kids or something. I can’t focus anymore. I finally say it aloud. “I’m starting to panic.” She’s still searching with her doppler. I can tell she's making small talk to try and keep me calm. She finds my heartbeat. I surely know the difference by now. Baby’s is much faster than my own. She says, “That’s your heartbeat.” I breathily reply, “I know.” She tells me not to worry. She tells me this is the most difficult time in pregnancy to find baby on the doppler. My heart is racing. Tears begin to prick my eyes. A thousand thoughts scroll through my mind. “Okay. Maybe we aren’t having a baby in February. How will I tell Patrick? We will get through this…” And then, there it is. The most beautiful sound begins to pour out of the doppler. Our girl’s heartbeat. I begin to sob. I apologize to my doctor. She takes my hand and assures me that my emotions are okay. "We’ve gone through so much." Now, my toddler asks me, “Why you crying, Mom?” I tell him that I’m just so happy to hear baby’s heartbeat. I am emotionally exhausted.

Our past experiences shape us. Until this pregnancy, I could not internally admit that we’ve experienced trauma. That’s for other people. We’re okay. I’m okay.

And, I am okay, but I do realize and accept that our past traumatic experiences overshadow every pregnancy and delivery we experience. No matter what, God holds us in the palm of His hand. It’s okay to feel the emotions that I feel. “But I trust in you, Lord; I say, “You are my God.” My times are in your hands” – Psalm 31:14-15

God's reminder of His presence the morning of this appointment

Baby Byer #4 (GIRL)

Here I am. It’s been awhile since I put my fingers to my keyboard. Why yes, my pen goes to paper most days, sending up prayers to our Father, asking Him for so much and thanking Him for increasingly more.

What has brought me here today? Let’s get real.

FEAR.

We are 17 weeks 6 days pregnant with our fourth baby. Praise our good and gracious Father. Our baby is a girl. God has given us three girls and brother B. Oh man, He is good. Every day, I thank Him for each one of our children. Every day, I ask for His protection, for health, for His blessings to rain down on our kids.

At any given moment, I can tell you exactly how far along I am in a pregnancy and exactly how much time is left. I just need to make it to 37 weeks, and these babies are ejected from my body. Tomorrow, I will be 18 weeks along. By God’s amazing grace, that means I have exactly 19 weeks to go until this baby will be in my arms. From the day we learn we are expecting, we long for that day. We long to take a deep breath out and breathe in our newborn. We long to touch and feel and kiss our child. We long for the day we will not worry that we may never meet our child.

It is our past experiences that have brought us to this point. We did not get to meet Kylie on this side of heaven. And, three years ago, we thought we may have to leave the hospital without our baby for the second time. I know that God does not call us to live anxiously, and boy does He provide peace. But, I am human, and here is my greatest fear.

That God’s plan may be different from my own.

I trust Him. I trust Him fully. I have seen His goodness in the midst of pain. I have seen the way He has shaped us through our experiences. And, I can honestly say that I wouldn’t change a thing about our life journey. But, I do not desire to feel the grip of pain and grief we have experienced before. I do not once again desire to feel the immense fear of an unknown future for our child with a grim diagnosis.

Here’s something else I know (from a Zach Williams song).

Fear he is a liar

He will take your breath

Stop you in your steps

He will rob your rest

Steal your happiness

God is so much bigger than our greatest fears. He will carry me through this pregnancy. He will provide, no matter what the outcome. He will grant a sense of peace that can only come from Him. He will allow me to rejoice in a new life. And, He will be glorified.

So, here it is… Baby Byer #4 (GIRL), by God’s amazing grace, will join us in mid-February!