Wednesday morning, we had our anatomy ultrasound for our fourth pregnancy. I did not expect it, but I was anxious and couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t that I was afraid that this baby would have the same issues; they told us that was highly unlikely to repeat itself. It wasn’t that I was afraid ANYTHING was going to be wrong. I think I was afraid to admit that there was a little life inside of me just in case something was wrong. Up to this point, I had been trying to treat this pregnancy as though it could end up the same way and that meant keeping myself a little detached.
This is not the reaction I expected. I expected to cherish and celebrate every milestone, knowing that it could be all I get from this baby. Instead, I tried not to think about the baby I was carrying. I convinced myself that everything about this pregnancy was abnormal and I was not going to be heartbroken if something went wrong. I was going to expect the worst and avoid getting attached.
So after hearing that we had a healthy baby boy and seeing on the ultrasound how normal and perfect everything was, I couldn’t justify this separation. I spent the evening with my hands on my belly unable to deny the life inside it.
We had even gone to the high risk perinatologist because of our history and they have a reputation for finding things wrong when there really isn’t anything wrong. We were expecting to hear something even if it was a “small” thing like a choroid plexus cyst like Bo had. But they told us that everything looked good. All of a sudden, I had no indication that this pregnancy was abnormal like the last.
Praise God for his goodness to me. Because that is what it is – God’s goodness. I do not deserve a healthy baby because of all I have been through. God does not owe me anything because I lost my brother, my baby and my sister in the span of two and a half years. I am not entitled to another breath, let alone another child.
My family brings me so much joy. Bo gets smarter every day and Maggie gets bigger and more independent by the second. I can’t believe she’s potty training already! At breakfast today, we prayed for Pickle and thanked God for keeping him healthy. As always we asked Him to give Pickle to us whole, well, easily and alive. Bo asked me, “Why does God keep stealing people I love? It makes me sad.”
What a question. Haven’t those of us who have lost a loved one asked this too? We talked about how God created everything so everything belongs to Him. He didn’t steal anything or anyone. We talked about how no matter how sad something makes us, whatever God decides for us is right and good. We talked about how children are a gift from God and not something that we are owed. We talked about how it’s okay to be sad about it even if we know God did what was right. Bo seemed satisfied with those answers, but insisted that he is still very sad that Pickle won’t get to meet Aunta Nina and sad that he can’t play with Uncle Bubba anymore and sad that Luna is up in heaven instead of with us. I told him I was too. Then he asked for some orange juice.
That little boy is a gift straight from God – his little brain, the giant thoughts that come out of it, his beautiful heart and innocent faith. My little girl’s smile and bright eyes make my heart open up like a flower. Her raspy little voice saying, “good morning mommy” makes me forget to be sad and reminds me to feel blessed. Because I am blessed. And no matter what happens to this baby, I am still blessed.