Karmen Smith

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Honored & humbled by this opportunity

by Karmen |

“You never get a second chance to make a first impression.”

Right?

None needed for this gal.

When you say, “Courtney Westlake”  I say, “A woman of grace. Exhilarating.”

Courtney and I met at She Speaks last July.  From the moment she and I had our first exchange I knew she was someone I wanted to know more about and a woman I was sure I would never forget.

Courtney’s story and her daughter, Brenna Helen Marie shook my soul.  Brenna was born on December 19, 2011, with a rare and severe skin disease called Harlequin Ichthyosis (har-la-kwin ick-thee-oh-sis).

I am humbled and honored to be guest posting for Courtney’s series Celebrating Beautiful today on her blog, Blessed by Brenna.

Click here for today’s post. Surrendering to a Life for Christ: a guest post by Karmen Smith

 

romans

love y’all

karmen

 

 

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Filed Under: #iheart, #KarsonsStory, be brave, blog, Fabulous Friends, faith, infertility, Inspire, Life ~in our neck of the woods, Loss Tagged With: Blessed by Brenna, Celebrating Beautiful, Courtney Westlake, guest post, She Speaks

Honored & humbled by this opportunity

by Karmen |

“You never get a second chance to make a first impression.”

Right?

None needed for this gal.

When you say, “Courtney Westlake”  I say, “A woman of grace. Exhilarating.”

Courtney and I met at She Speaks last July.  From the moment she and I had our first exchange I knew she was someone I wanted to know more about and a woman I was sure I would never forget.

Courtney’s story and her daughter, Brenna Helen Marie shook my soul.  Brenna was born on December 19, 2011, with a rare and severe skin disease called Harlequin Ichthyosis (har-la-kwin ick-thee-oh-sis).

I am humbled and honored to be guest posting for Courtney’s series Celebrating Beautiful today on her blog, Blessed by Brenna.

Click here for today’s post. Surrendering to a Life for Christ: a guest post by Karmen Smith

 

romans

love y’all

karmen

 

 

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Filed Under: #iheart, #KarsonsStory, be brave, blog, Fabulous Friends, faith, infertility, Inspire, Life ~in our neck of the woods, Loss Tagged With: Blessed by Brenna, Celebrating Beautiful, Courtney Westlake, guest post, She Speaks

this part sent me into a tail spin

by Karmen |

 

so I got this today

jeanne

Whaaa? pregnancy & Infant loss awareness day?

 

um, no.  I had absolutely no idea.

 

“Is this for real?” was my reply

 

Only God y’all, only God could orchestrate this week to be the week to move forward in posting this particular part of our journey..

 

Months I’ve wrestled with God….now?  wait? write other chapters? why do you want me to start with a sad one when I prefer to laugh?  Come on God, not this one.

 

Today we’re at part three ….the chapter of life that sent me into a tail spin

(PS- if you’re just joining us you can catch up by reading here

 

****************

 

I could hear my friend’s voice and I knew she was there. I was so very thankful that she was there.

 

She whispered calm words of encouragement as she built a plush barricade of pillows around my womb.

 

I heard the beeps of the monitors and felt the compressions of the blood pressure cuff, but I just couldn’t look.

 

Somehow it helped not seeing all that was going on around me like if I didn’t open my eyes that it wouldn’t really be happening. You know, the “out of sight out of mind” kind of thing.

 

I felt my friend beside me and heard the exchange between the paramedic and her, but still I just couldn’t make myself open my eyes.

 

J rode with the rest of my people to the hospital and that was best.

 

 

It was a lot to process and I knew he needed some time.

 

 

The forty-five minute ride was brief, yet it felt like it lasted forever. I felt every bump in the road, every swerve, every turn.

 

But mostly, I remember praying.

 

Hoping for the best, expecting any thing.

 

When we finally arrived and I heard the ambulance doors unlock, I opened my eyes.

 

The receiving nurses were gracious and hopeful, “We’re going to take good care of you and your little one, honey. Don’t you worry about a thing,” as they whisked me to a tiny little room with no windows.

 

My family and closest friends were already there.

 

 

The hallways were full of people, full of love. It was all very humbling, very surreal.

 

 

My doctor’s friend came in shortly after we had arrived to introduce him self and assure us that we were in the best possible place.

 

He brought us up to speed on the possible risk for infection and insisted that we consent to an amniocentesis. That’s a big word for a big needle that he was going to insert into my womb to test for infection. Be near me Lord Jesus.

 

In no time the doctor and his team had returned with the news that infection was indeed present and that we needed to induce labor immediately.

 

He went on to say that should we delay, the infection could progress and could do damage that would prohibit us from ever having children.

 

“Induce? Are you sure? We’ve been trying to get labor stopped and now you want to induce??”

 

I was trying to absorb his words and the neonatal team’s encouragement.

 

I saw his lips moving and could see the sympathy oozing from their eyes and I remember thinking, this is just too much.

 

While the little fighter inside of me kept kicking and fighting the fight of its life.

 

As the doctors spoke my aunt and my momma were on each side of me massaging my raging womb.

 

The baby was stressed. We all were stressed.

 

The nurses did their best to comfort us as the anesthesiologist proceeded with my epidural.

 

“Here we go again,” is all I could rally as J, Momma, and I entered the stainless steel delivery room.

 

J’s Aunt D’s words rang in my head, “Hope for the best, expect anything.”

 

With every one in place the doctor implored, “Are we ready?”

 

Breathe Karmen, just keep breathing.

 

Everyone else was able to muster a grin with the doctor’s words,

 

“Babies at 24 weeks can survive and do well. “

 

Our little angel, Karson Elizabeth did not.

 

She passed during delivery.

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Filed Under: #bookproject, #iheart, Everything Else, faith, infertility, Loss Tagged With: friends, infant loss, sad

when was "the dark night of your soul?"

by Karmen |

You know that thing you need to do and have a burning desire to do but you don’t know exactly how to do it and before you know it your frozen with fear of getting it wrong so you just, don’t.

Yes?

Me too.

That’s exactly where I am with writing the manuscript for the book.

It’s the molehill I’ve transformed into this GINORMOUS mountain.

I’ve become the Queen of Procrastination.

Fearful that it will be  just another story.

Shakin’ in my boots scared, like scaredy-cat scared, doing my best to convince myself that it really doesn’t matter whether I write the book or not.

But then this:

We challenge our boys to do at least one brave thing a day.  We say,

“Be brave.  Fear not.”

fearnot

 

What’s a scaredy-cat momma, wanna be author to do,

“Do as I say, not as I do.”  knowing that.won’t. stand-  OR go with this:

BE BRAVE!

I’ve got to.  If I want brave kinds I’ve got to be brave.  I’ve just got to.

So.

I’m done playin’ chicken y’all  (at least for tonight, somebody remind me tomorrow), I’m going to start sharing the sample chapters that I do have written and we’ll see what happens.

Hopefully, as I release my clinched, fearful fist and faithfully surrender my anxiety this mountain-like molehill of a manuscript will actually become a reality.

Because we’ve gotta start somewhere.

 

****************************************

 

“I think we should go now.”

 

My words confirmed what I had been passively tolerating as I lay on the couch.

 

I had covertly been trying to talk myself out of labor for over an hour.

 

Replaying the afternoon of yard work over and over in my head.

 

Maybe I shouldn’t have jumped the ditch of burning leaves? Maybe I shouldn’t have raked so long?  Maybe I shouldn’t have wrestled with those tree limbs.

 

Regardless of what I should or should not have done, the shower had not helped. The rest had not helped. The quiet pep talk on the couch had not helped.

 

The rhythmic pain in my back followed by the tightening of my stomach was growing more intense.

 

Careful not to cause any unnecessary alarm I sat up and said, “I think we should go now.”

 

“Go where?”

 

“To the hospital. Something is wrong.”

 

No other words were spoken. He quietly gathered his things as I shuffled slowly yet as quickly as I could to find my shoes.

 

Within a half hour we had registered and were waiting patiently in the waiting room of the emergency room when I felt an abrupt urge to go to the restroom.

 

Alone in the restroom, I began to grasp the urgency of our situation. There was no doubt, I was in labor.

 

My face must have said what I could not.

 

J let the attending know we were headed up to labor and delivery, pronto!

 

The wheelchair, admission to the hospital and how my people got there so fast was all a blur.

 

I was having an undisclosed conversation with myself as the nurses worked feverishly to get me hooked up to the plethora of monitors.

 

“I can feel it outside of me. I’m not supposed to be able to feel it kicking outside of me. Not yet.”

 

The nurses informed me, “We are going to start you on some medication that should stop your contractions.”

 

My doctor came by shortly thereafter to encourage us, “I am going to do everything in my power to stop this little one from coming too early.”

 

He affirmed I was indeed in labor, dilated to three and a half with bulging membranes.

 

“Bulging membranes?” “What?”

 

His words terrified me without even knowing what they meant.

 

I soon found out that bulging membranes meant the baby was hour-glassing which explained why I could feel it kicking on the outside.

 

Doc informed us that he was going to tilt my bed with the hope that gravity would help us out.

 

As he continued the nurses began adjusting my bed and before he left, my head was near the ground, my feet high in the sky with my bed at a degree that resembled that of a forward slash.

 

The nurses proceeded with such grace as they strapped  big compression contraptions on each of my legs.  I felt like an alien.  And I looked like one too.  The sweet little smiling nurses assured me the compressions thing would help with circulation.

 

They’d soon finished leaving us alone at last.

 

J, Momma and I sat staring at one another when I BURST into hysterical laughter!

 

“Can y’all believe this??

We are in labor, AGAIN and I’m lying here with my head near the ground and LOOK at these gigantic things on my legs!

Can you believe this is happening??”

 

I’m sure they didn’t know what to say.

 

What would you have said?

 

It was there in forward slash position, in pre-term labor facing a second loss that I embraced the cliché’,

 

“LAUGH or CRY?!”

******************************

If you are new here,  welcome.  Today’s post is a snippet of a chapter that be included in the book that tells our story.

A story where pain, passion and purpose COLLIDE.

I’ll be sharing more about this particular season that plummeted me into the dark night of my soul over the next couple of days.

I’lI share with you how I shook my fist at God and let ya’ know how that turned out (not pretty) but until then feel free to  CLICK HERE or here to take a look back at a couple other posts that I’ve written about that tough season.

PLEASE share it with your loved ones who have lost or are struggling to conceive.

 

Thanks y’all

karmen

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Filed Under: #bookproject, #iheart, blog, Everything Else, faith, infertility, Inspire, Loss Tagged With: Karson, laugh or cry?, preterm labor

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