My Journey To Motherhood

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I am not a doctor, none of the information on any of these pages pertaining to the Ketogenic Diet or Adrenal Fatigue should be considered medical advice and should not replace the care of your personal physician. I am simply eager to share the information I have learned while on my own journey to health. Before you embark on this journey, please consult with your physician.

I have wanted to write this story for quite some time now, but have struggled to find the strength to do so.

Reading the story of other women’s struggles has given me both the inspiration and boldness to share my own story – fraught with struggles, fear, heartache, disappointment, glimmers of hope, anticipation, and joy. It is the story of my journey to motherhood – a role I have longed for since I can remember and the greatest earthly aspiration I have ever had.

As I shared in my guest blog “All I Ever Wanted” on From Here To Eternity, my greatest ambition was to be a mother.  It was what I dreamed of for as long as I can remember: that, and to be a singer.

I had managed to fulfill the singer role.  I had studied music and had years of worship leading experience under my belt while teaching privately on the side.  Now I was singing and playing keyboards in a highly acclaimed Croatian worship band – Bez Kompromisa (No Compromise).  We had already recorded one album – on which I played keyboards – and had played for various national and city-wide festivals.  Yes – I had accomplished that goal in life. 

But motherhood?

Six months after we got married we found out we were expecting our first baby.  I was literally beside myself with joy.  I was sent to have my hCG levels tested and they came back low. I wasn’t happy with my doctor. Something about him didn’t sit right with me so I requested a change with my insurance, a process that took one month. By the time my request was approved, I was already 9 weeks along. On the morning of my ultrasound, I had a mixture of anticipation of seeing my little baby and some fear that something may not be right; but chalked it up to typical pregnancy fears

I climbed off the tram  and began down the walkway to to doctor’s office – my heart pounding like crazy.  I could hardly wait!!!  The doctor accepted me into the office and I lay on the table.  His silence during the ultrasound made me nervous.  And then I heard the words that would echo in my head for months to come…

“Something isn’t right”. 

It was weird.  Almost like I had expected those words to come out of his mouth.

“The baby is measuring too small and there is no heartbeat”.

Those words would haunt me and keep me awake at night.

Trying hard to digest the news that something was wrong with my baby, I sat on the tram and headed to the church for our weekly Bible Study.  I wondered how I could avoid questions about the ultrasound?  Everyone knew that today was the big day.  I was supposed to be joyful and show off a black-and-white picture that no one could make out.  But instead all I had were doubts and a possible impending miscarriage.
The doctor had advised us to wait two weeks – that maybe something would happen and the heart would start beating on its own.  My husband and I sat in the church office where we called my mom and tried to absorb the news that our baby likely wouldn’t make it.
It never fails that something dramatic occurs while my husband works third shift.  That is what happened a week after my ultrasound.  I began having bouts of weakness, low-grade fever, and an overall feeling of being unwell.  I called my sister and came to take me to the hospital.  They did an exam and ultrasound and confirmed that I had certainly had a missed miscarriage.
A missed miscarriage is when a miscarriage occurs (a loss of life) but the body fails to fully miscarry.  I was now 10 weeks into my pregnancy and in danger of septic shock.  The next evening I returned to the hospital even weaker than before and in a lot of pain.  A couple of hours later a the operation was over and our baby was gone.
No one was ever able to explain what happened.  Maybe there was a serious defect, maybe my body was unable to undergo a pregnancy.  Only God knows why. 
It was up to me, now, to leave it in His hands – something much easier said than done.
I found it very difficult to accept the miscarriage. I had a horrible fear of a second miscarriage.  Not only that – I had read that after three miscarriages it is doubtful a woman will carry a pregnancy to term.  All I could think of is “one down….” – sort of like Strike One! Three strikes – you’re out!

When I found out I was expecting a second time, I was terrified.  In fact, I was so terrified that at 5 1/2 weeks I went to my doctor for a check up, even though I knew it was too early to see or do anything.  The check up only compounded my fear.

“Umm…so, do we need to do any tests?” my doctor asked.  

How was I supposed to know?  Isn’t he the one with “DR” before his name?  But it was obvious that he was as worried as I was, which didn’t help matters at all.  I couldn’t understand what he was worried about. He was the one that promised us that our second pregnancy would go fine.  “99% of the time the second pregnancy is normal” he had said, “I’ve never had a patient who has had two miscarriages in a row”.  

Maybe I’d be his first…

He sent me home with forms for various tests that all had the word “abortus imminens”.  I don’t know Latin – but I knew what that meant.  My head began to spin. 
I called my doctor’s office. “Everything is just fine”, the nurse assured me.  “We put that on there for a paper trail, just in case.  But everything is just fine – we would have told you if something was wrong.” She said very confidently.  “So, I just need to take it easy?  It says, ‘strict bed rest'” I asked.  “Yes, just take things easy – but everything is okay”.  I felt better.  Somewhat.
But the next morning I began bleeding.
As soon as the doctor’s office opened I called and let them know.
The doctor’s voice was very strict – and strained, “I told you – strict bed rest.  Didn’t I tell you that???  Do not get up except to use the restroom and then lay back down again!” 
I was confused. Didn’t the nurse tell me yesterday that everything was alright?
But by the next day, after much pain, I had miscarried our baby at 5 weeks.  Another procedure was done to make sure no infection set in, a procedure that was later questioned.  It was all so very traumatic and I felt dead inside.
Strike two. 


“Rosilind, you have to lay this at the feet of Jesus.  What if you never have children?  What if motherhood is not God’s plan for your life?  Would you be able to accept that?”  My mom posed the question that I had been avoiding for months. 
I had a referral form to see a specialist at the hospital where I had miscarried the second time.  I had been unable to see him – he just never seemed to be in.  I was frustrated.  I didn’t want to try for a third time until I was sure everything was okay with me.
In the meantime, Z and I took a trip to the States.  It was his first time flying in an airplane – and while he was not impressed with flying, he had a good time.

While we were there, my parents set up and paid for a consultation with a specialist who uses holistic medicine concerning women’s hormones.  I did two saliva tests: one that showed my cortisol levels were extremely low and that my adrenal glands were fatigued. 

When my parents came to visit us in Zagreb, a month after our return from the States, they brought with them several whole food vitamins that I began taking.  Those vitamins, coupled with a lifestyle change, so dramatically changed my health that I suddenly realized how fatigued I had been! 

My mom also brought me the book, “Calm My Anxious Heart“, by Linda Dillow – a book that changed my life!

I realized that I had to accept whatever calling God had called me to.  Was I called to be a mother?  Only God could know that.  Could I accept the fact that He had possibly designed my destiny that I may never bear children?  I knew I had to come to the place of contentment, no matter what my future held for me. 

By the time I had finished the book, and the study questions in the back, I had come to the place where I knew that if I have children, then praise God and if I never have children, then praise God and my house will always be clean!  It was a very freeing place in my heart and I could praise God for the lessons learned in this heartbreaking journey that I could rest in whatever lay ahead. 

It was also important for me to go back to my broken dreams, sweep up their precious fragments in my hands, look at them, embrace them, and then examine them for any nuggets of wisdom God had wanted to teach me there. 

That part was not easy.

To go back and relive those emotions.  To revisit pain and loss.  Yet, I knew I had to, it was part of letting go, and it was part of allowing God to heal the wounds.

I am so glad I allowed Him to do that.  I can tell my story without pain.  Do tears fall?  Yes.  Because I am overwhelmed by His goodness, faithfulness, and overwhelming love and care for me.

So, Dear Reader, if you have experienced such pain, allow Him to give you the strength to scoop up those shattered fragments of your dream; embrace them, hold them; let Him help you find a treasured lesson among them, and then let them go.  Take from your loss the sweet nectar of His faithfulness and then let Him gently take from you the pain so that all that remains is a wonderful testimony of His goodness, faithfulness and love.  It will free you as it has freed me!



My husband was working morning shift and I was bored.  Very bored. 

“I wonder if those dollar store pregnancy tests I bought in the States really do work”, I wondered.  I had no reason to believe I might be expecting.  I was just bored.

No one was more surprised than I when I got a + sign.  In fact, I was so shocked that I took another one…and a third one.  All had + signs!

Then I heard the “reminder” ring on my cell phone.  Either I had an appointment today or it was someone’s birthday.

I picked up my cell phone and began to cry. It said

Mother’s Day

Only God could do something that special.

My husband tried to convince me to wait until the second trimester to share our news but I knew, from the deepest depths of my heart, that this time was it.

Besides, the glow on my face would have been evidence enough.  So, we went to church that evening and by the end of service everyone knew our good news.

A baby was on the way!

Pregnancy for me was both wonderful and exhausting.  Wonderful in that I enjoyed every movement and just being pregnant in general.  Despite my previous miscarriages I was not overly fearful or anxious.  Naturally I had little fears that came to me every now and then, but I was able to deal with them with the tools I had learned from the book I read and verses of scripture dealing with fear.  Overall it was quite peaceful.  
My little Alien at 13 weeks (the only ultrasound picture I could make out – just like hundreds of other little mommies who wont admit they don’t know what they are looking at! *grin*)


At 37 weeks I transferred my visits to the hospital where I planned to give birth.  The doctor immediately began to suspect something wasn’t right.  This completely blindsided me.  He to test for gestational diabetes.  Mind you, we just had been to my in-laws for our Christmas visit (this was just two days before Christmas) where we had joyfully eaten our hearts out.  The entire morning before my doctor’s visit I had been making Christmas cookies and candy, and of course “tested” everything…needless to say – my blood sugar was soaring.
Since he had put a rush on the test, I went in the next day – Christmas Eve – to take the test.  One of the numbers was elevated and thus they diagnosed me with Gestational Diabetes.
By the second visit he had added that I had too much amniotic fluid and that I was too heavy and ordered me into the hospital the following Monday for further blood sugar tests.


At 38 1/2 weeks I arrived at the hospital only to find out that they intended for me to stay there until the baby came. My blood sugar results came back with numbers between 5-7, proving that I did not have Gestational Diabetes, but they kept hospitalized to the end. 
By 40 weeks I was no where near delivery and the doctor determined that I could not safely deliver the baby. On January 15th a C-section was arranged for Monday. 
I was devastated.  I had prepared for delivery, not a c-section. A c-section wasn’t even on my radar! But by Sunday evening, January 17, I had traded despair for anticipation and couldn’t sleep the entire night.  I couldn’t wait to see his face!  I was both excited and a bit scared – I could only hope that he would be a healthy baby.
When I heard Robi cry for the first time, tears ran down my face. Could it be true?  
I am finally a mother!  

21 months later our Robert Jukic was joined by an Andrej Jukic.  Two boys as opposite as boys could be. But we are a family full of love and joy.

A gift from the hand of the Father!

Update number two:

Our sweet little Mila and Zlatko Jr. were joined by Nada and Marko. You can read about the 2nd half of this Journey in my post: 3 Things I’ve Learned About Pain.


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