One Year Ago
One year ago . . . .
. . . I sat in the doctor’s office, breathlessly waiting in hopes they would give me an ultrasound to see my unborn child for the first time.
. . . I winced in pain as she did the exam.
. . . I heard the words, “I just don’t see anything.”
. . . I was assured it was probably too early, but I knew better.
. . . The suggestion that maybe I was having twins, one viable one not, was presented.
. . . I left the doctor’s office confused, scared, and unsure of where to turn.
. . . I began a process of waiting, hoping, and praying.
. . . I loved my baby as much as I could as I waited.
A year and three days ago . . .
. . . I received a phone call that shook me to my core.
. . . I sat in a hospital room waiting to sign permission to kill my baby.
. . . I received a dose of chemotherapy.
. . . I desperately asked God “why?” but felt no answer.
. . . I dropped my kids off with friends for a pre-arranged sleepover. SO thankful for that time. Little did we know when we made the plans what the day would be bringing, but God knew.
. . . I completely lost it on the drive home, barely making it home safely.
. . . I curled up on the couch in the fetal position feeling like the worst mother on the planet. I signed permission for them to kill my baby. And I claim to be pro life. I cannot count how many times I was told growing up that you cannot terminate a pregnancy to save the life of the mother, and that is exactly what I had just allowed to happen. The guilt was intense. So thankful for a friend who came to pull me out of that.
. . . I went on a preplanned date with my husband, ate the most horribly calorie packed item on the menu, and simply didn’t care.
. . . We watched MegaMind. I will never watch that movie again.
. . . I went to bed, knowing I had made a decision I would live with for the rest of my life, and still wondering if it was the right thing to do.
Today
. . . I remember the baby I wanted and lost.
. . . I praise God for the friendships that carried me through the past year. I am so blessed to have a few people in my life who truly understand and accept the fact that, regardless of how much time has passed, this event has changed me.
. . . I rejoice in the new life growing inside of me, a life that would not be here had November not occurred as it did one year ago.
. . . I can say even though I still do not understand that my God is good, has never ceased to be good, and has a perfect plan.
. . . I still wonder if I will ever fully understand
If you know someone who has lost a baby, no matter how early they were, the anniversaries are hard. It is especially hard if they had something active to do with the loss. I do not know if it gets easier with time, because this is the first anniversary for me, but the due date, the date of the loss, and even the date they found out they were pregnant are burned into their minds, and it is not easy to forget. One of the best things you can do is remember with them. Today, I remember our baby, and rejoice that I will someday see my child again.
If you are one of the friends who held me while I cried, offered your love and support, and remembered with me, you know who you are. Thank you is not enough. But it’s what I can say. You will forever mean the world to me, and I only hope I can offer similar help to someone else at another time.
. . . I sat in the doctor’s office, breathlessly waiting in hopes they would give me an ultrasound to see my unborn child for the first time.
. . . I winced in pain as she did the exam.
. . . I heard the words, “I just don’t see anything.”
. . . I was assured it was probably too early, but I knew better.
. . . The suggestion that maybe I was having twins, one viable one not, was presented.
. . . I left the doctor’s office confused, scared, and unsure of where to turn.
. . . I began a process of waiting, hoping, and praying.
. . . I loved my baby as much as I could as I waited.
A year and three days ago . . .
. . . I received a phone call that shook me to my core.
. . . I sat in a hospital room waiting to sign permission to kill my baby.
. . . I received a dose of chemotherapy.
. . . I desperately asked God “why?” but felt no answer.
. . . I dropped my kids off with friends for a pre-arranged sleepover. SO thankful for that time. Little did we know when we made the plans what the day would be bringing, but God knew.
. . . I completely lost it on the drive home, barely making it home safely.
. . . I curled up on the couch in the fetal position feeling like the worst mother on the planet. I signed permission for them to kill my baby. And I claim to be pro life. I cannot count how many times I was told growing up that you cannot terminate a pregnancy to save the life of the mother, and that is exactly what I had just allowed to happen. The guilt was intense. So thankful for a friend who came to pull me out of that.
. . . I went on a preplanned date with my husband, ate the most horribly calorie packed item on the menu, and simply didn’t care.
. . . We watched MegaMind. I will never watch that movie again.
. . . I went to bed, knowing I had made a decision I would live with for the rest of my life, and still wondering if it was the right thing to do.
Today
. . . I remember the baby I wanted and lost.
. . . I praise God for the friendships that carried me through the past year. I am so blessed to have a few people in my life who truly understand and accept the fact that, regardless of how much time has passed, this event has changed me.
. . . I rejoice in the new life growing inside of me, a life that would not be here had November not occurred as it did one year ago.
. . . I can say even though I still do not understand that my God is good, has never ceased to be good, and has a perfect plan.
. . . I still wonder if I will ever fully understand
If you know someone who has lost a baby, no matter how early they were, the anniversaries are hard. It is especially hard if they had something active to do with the loss. I do not know if it gets easier with time, because this is the first anniversary for me, but the due date, the date of the loss, and even the date they found out they were pregnant are burned into their minds, and it is not easy to forget. One of the best things you can do is remember with them. Today, I remember our baby, and rejoice that I will someday see my child again.
If you are one of the friends who held me while I cried, offered your love and support, and remembered with me, you know who you are. Thank you is not enough. But it’s what I can say. You will forever mean the world to me, and I only hope I can offer similar help to someone else at another time.
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