I remember being SO angry at first. I felt trapped in an unhappy, unhealthy situation. I recall railing at God daily. I remember all the unspeakable thoughts that I'm too ashamed to put words to. I hadn't even had the chance to wrap my mind around the idea of welcoming another baby into my world when it started to happen... again. My body was threatening miscarriage. So, my Dr. prescribed a slew of "solutions" to a problem I honestly wasn't sure I wanted to solve. (To this day, I beg forgiveness for that thought every time it rears it's head.) Ultimately, I decided I could not bear the weight on my soul if I had chosen not to do anything. So I began all the lovely hormone treatments my doctor had proposed and suffered through blood draws every two days, and then every week, for 14 weeks.
I never would have guessed that THAT could be the easy part. Not two weeks later, I got a phone call from my kind-hearted doctor explaining to me that the quad screen results had come back abnormal. There was a 1 in 26 chance that my baby would have Trisomy 18. Having a fairly firm handle on the medical side of things, I knew that this was just a ratio with a high incidence of false results. I knew that this meant we would be encouraged to go forward with an amniocentesis. However, I also knew this meant there was a 25 to 1 chance that my baby was perfectly fine. It felt like everybody around me was overreacting. I vaguely recall feeling like I was the comforter rather than the comforted. Like I was the one being strong when the people around me were freaked out. I can't tell you how many times the "termination" option was brought up, regardless of the fact that I had just spent so many weeks fighting to keep him alive. I began researching Trisomy 18, and it was heartbreaking, to say the least. "Incompatible with life." Those words echoed in my head every minute of every day. But true to my nature, I wanted to be well-versed in what that meant for us, for him, what the options were, etc. So, I consented to the amnio. We learned that day that it was another boy, but I was so distracted by what was to come during the procedure, that I don't remember saying a single word or even trying to pretend like I was excited to know the gender. :D And then, the amniocentesis failed. My best friend, Jessica, sat with me through the entire procedure and watched them stab me in the stomach with what I'm certain was a 4-foot long needle! Lol... but, the baby kept moving into the fluid-pocket. I let them stick me at least twice and then they gave up. I remember feeling quite confident that God was going to deliver me a healthy baby boy, but was never too far removed from the fear that He wouldn't. I educated myself on comfort care and the various things we could do to improve his quality of life IF he were to be born with T18. I prepared myself the best I knew how for what might be coming, knowing there was the possibility of meeting him and losing him. All the while telling everyone "I can't explain it, I just believe in my heart that he is okay and he is healthy. And if he isn't, then I believe God will take care of him AND us."
Mason was my first lesson in trust with the Lord. You see, I didn't truly know what it meant to have a relationship with God then, but He made sure I knew we were in His hands and at His mercy during that time. It was also my first lesson in His grace. He gifted me with the whisper of this baby's name, Mason (brick-layer/stone worker) Elijah (Lord is my God) ...and I never questioned it, even though I had 5 other names in mind. :) Then, some 20 weeks later, I delivered a totally healthy baby boy. ... 7lbs 11oz, 19.5 inches long ... and as perfect and precious as they come. Jessica likes to poke fun at me because even at that moment, I didn't cry. I got ever-so-slightly choked up and let out some ragged sigh of relief. And promptly fell asleep. ;) lol It is only now that I realize Mason laid the very first bricks of my foundation in the Lord, my God. His name means more to me now than it ever did. Mason has been the greatest blessing. He is so loving, hilarious, eager, and adorable. He has blessed his brother with an amazing bond that I could never have imagined for them. Glory to God... those boys are in a love affair with each other. :) Nearly 19 months later, it is Mason who teaches me to lift my hands in wholehearted surrender and give praise to the Lord! I couldn't have handpicked a more perfect child to round out our little family of 3. To think of all the wretched thoughts I had in the beginning, to fighting the fight for his life (which was never really in my hands), and all the fear I bore in silence... I wouldn't change a second of it. Mason was made just for me and my burgeoning journey with Jesus. Mason was a vessel for Jesus' love, grace, and comfort. And he still is. As he laid in my arms tonight, I traced his fingers with mine and thanked God repeatedly for this gift He shared with me. I took in the sweetness of his face, the smell of his hair, and the purity of the consumption in my heart. He was never anything other than my very own abundant blessing... ♥
"And the child grew and became strong; he was filled with wisdom, and the grace of God was on him" (Luke 2:40 NIV)
Oh, now he is sweeter than ever! Love that boy. What a journey Jessica. Love this
ReplyDelete