The Waiting

This is not really a yesterthought. This is just right now.

The last time I tinkered with my blog template, I added a pregnancy ticker. I figured I had made it past that fateful seven week marker (all three of my past lost babies only lived to seven weeks in utero.) It was "safe" to hope and share our good news.

Two days ago I woke up to a warning sign. I was invited to have an appointment with the on-call doctor. I usually see midwives, but when there is a concern that would require an ultrasound, they refer to the doctors in the office. I was seen by a male doctor, whom I had never met before. He was kind and professional and it was evident that he respected a patient's dignity and modesty and for that I am grateful.

The ultrasound revealed no heartbeat and the baby measured 9weeks 6days (I would have been 12 weeks yesterday). My last ultrasound was at 9weeks 5days and showed a strong heartbeat. The baby died on June 12. Once again we grieve and wait.

I called my sister yesterday and she sounded as bereft as me. I took great comfort in her audible sobs. That may seem strange. Let me explain. I certainly do not expect anyone to cry. Truth be told, I, myself, dread crying in front of others. My face shows that I have been crying for hours afterwards. But my sister's grief showed me her compassion for my suffering and her own sorrow for the loss of a member of her family whom she will never get to hold or know.

I have encountered so many different reactions when sharing that we have lost a child.

• ...you can "try again"
• ...oh, just be thankful for the five children you have already,
• ...there was probably something wrong with the baby, this is just nature's way of "taking care of things."

I could dissect what does not promote a culture of life in those statements, and especially what does not bring comfort in those statements, but I'm focusing on what does bring comfort:

1. A shared tear by someone who truly cares. Someone who knows that a baby is a person. A person whose life is valuable, regardless of what they "contribute to society."
2. A simple "I'm sorry for your loss."
   
3. "I will pray for you." Isn't that among the greatest of gifts?

Some people do not know what to say. It is likely to be especially awkward for those who are immersed in or surrounded by a culture that does not embrace human life as sacred. I have to remind myself not to take misguided comments as uncharitable, but to remember to be patient, kind and loving and give others the benefit of the doubt. After all, I was not always on the path I am on now and I have no room to judge anyone.

I never dare ask God for a baby. He has blessed me so abundantly already. I figure they were all thought up at the beginning of time. He knows how many children will be entrusted to our care. One can only wonder what lies ahead and at a discouraging time of such heartbreak and the immediate future seems so bleak. The joy and hope that comes with a newborn is so amazing it is unfathomable and even though I dare not ask, I certainly hope that I will experience that elation again in God's Good Time.

When speaking with my sister, I told her how the doctor, despite his professionalism and sensitivity, had made me feel really old. Anyone over 35 is at "advanced maternal age". She encouraged me by sharing that our maternal grandmother had many, many miscarriages, but she delivered her seventh child at age 45 and her eighth at 47! As a young adult, I was blessed to have spent time with our aunt who was her eighth child and she is one of the loveliest people I have encountered - beautiful inside and out. My grandmother's 7th child (and only son!) passed away a few years ago after a tragic automobile accident. God rest his soul.

I cannot imagine giving birth at age 47 (which is nearly a decade away), but if that is God's will, I could only accept it with great joy! Even though I am ebbing and flowing through waves of numbness and grief, I will not give in to despair. Lots of Grace and prayers will sustain me.

If you are inclined to offer up a prayer, please also pray for our children. They are sort of acting indifferent this time. In the past, they cried with great disappointment. Our sweet Timothy, who does dare pray for a child, has been begging for another sibling. He was so delighted when found out we were expecting. Today asked "Why do babies always die?" I replied "Babies don't always die. You were born, weren't you?" In fact, he was conceived just five days after our second baby was lost to miscarriage on 6-15-98. I reminded him that we often do not understand God's reasons but we do know that we have four very special souls interceding for our family.

To the dear hearts at 4Real who are offering prayers for me, words cannot adequately express the great comfort you have given me.

May God bless and keep you!