Monday, June 18, 2012
I don't particularly care for the month of June. Even with Father's Day, anniversaries, and birthdays, it 's a difficult month for me.
You see, June 16 was the due date for our second baby, who is now in Heaven.
It was the fall of 1985 when my hubby and I found out that we were expecting blessing #2. Our firstborn was 2 years old, and we were beyond thrilled at the thought of another baby on the way. We immediately began praying for a healthy pregnancy and baby. The early days of the pregnancy were typical for me: lots of morning sickness and tiredness. The morning sickness was difficult, but I knew that it was a sign of a healthy pregnancy.
Then, at about 10 weeks....cramping and spotting. We were terrified. We prayed, hoping that it wasn't what we were afraid it was. I called my OB, but I couldn't be "worked in" til the following day. The waiting was agonizing. We kept praying, but neither of us slept that night. I held on to the fact that I was still having morning sickness.
Next morning, I headed to the OB's office and they did a pregnancy test first thing. (They didn't check for a heartbeat. I still question that.) I was still pregnant!! I felt a such relief! After my appointment, the OB walked me to the front desk and told me what to expect should the symptoms worsen. Then he told me (in front of the nurses and receptionists - and as loud as he said it, I'm pretty sure people in the waiting room could hear him), "Don't get your hopes up. The pregnancy will probably not survive." With that, he tossed my chart on the desk and went on to his next patient.
Now, first of all, with those words he crushed what hopes I had of carrying this little one to term.
Second of all, I wanted to shout at him, "This is not a pregnancy!! This is a baby!!" But I was too shocked and saddened by his cruel words to respond. (And no - I never went back to him again.)
As I drove home, I had a sinking feeling in my stomach .
A few days went by and the spotting turned in bleeding and the cramps turned into contractions. The morning sickness had lessened. We knew what that meant. Still, we prayed, asking him to spare our baby. The Lord answered our prayers. He said, "No."
The next part I choose to block out of my memory..and I'll spare you the details.
And I'm not 100% sure of the gender, but deep in my heart, I believe that our baby was a little girl. That would mean that we have 4 boys and 4 girls.
I haven't talked much about losing the baby, especially during the years right after the miscarriage. People just didn't talk about things like that back then. They just kind of swept it under the rug. But ignoring it doesn't mean it didn't happen. Even though we never got to hold her, she was still a baby..our baby.
But I have talked about it more over the past several years, especially with our five younger children. And the love to talk about her...and they ask me questions about what she might be doing in Heaven.
I answer every question as best as I can, and it's actually therapeutic for me. It's a form of grief therapy, I suppose.
I know that even though we don't have her here on earth with us, she is still our child. And I don't want to ever forget that. So last June I decided to make myself a bracelet in her memory. Not that I want to be reminded of the horror of losing a baby, but to remind me of the hope of seeing her again. It is an unbelievable comfort to us to know that our little one is, as hymn writer Fanny Crosby wrote, "Safe in the arms of Jesus".
Here is a photo of what I call my Memory Bracelet...
After all these years, I still grieve for her. But the Lord has been so good to me, blessing me with more than I could ever ask for.
And I can truly say, "...The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the Name of the Lord." (Job 1:21)
Psalm 27:13 "I would have lost heart, unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of God in the land of the living."
Thanks for reading, friends.
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