So it turns out that making a baby isn’t always easy, and it doesn’t necessarily happen according to our time frame. We didn’t have a short or easy journey getting to this point. Many tears have been shed and prayers have been prayed to create this little bump. We sent two angels to heaven before this one decided to stick around.
When we first decided to give it a shot, pregnancy came quickly and ended just as quickly. We were distraught, but optimistic that the next time would work. We hadn’t been pregnant long enough to connect with the baby, so we felt shock more than grief. We decided to wait 6 months before trying again due to life circumstances, but when we again said, “Okay, it’s baby time!” we expected it to happen just as quickly. But it didn’t. Months went by. And more months. And more months. Months of hoping and praying. Months of negative pregnancy tests. Months of losing heart. And in the midst of it all, I lost my dad.
A few months later, to our surprise, we had a positive pregnancy test. We hugged and cried tears of happiness, and I felt this was part of God’s plan of redemption. But right around 8 weeks, I started to spot. Just a little bit at first, and then a lot. An ultrasound revealed our baby and its happy little beating heart. “But,” the tech said, “I don’t think you’re as far along as you think you are. You’re only measuring 6 weeks 5 days.” Those words struck a chord of fear into my heart because I knew it wasn’t right. So I asked, “Could that mean the baby isn’t developing how it should be?” She shrugged. “That’s possible, but unlikely.” And we were sent home wondering if our baby would live or die. The bleeding stopped for a few days, and then returned. A week after the first ultrasound, I knew it was over. We went in for a follow up and were told, “I’m so sorry, I’ve looked and looked, and I just can’t find a heartbeat.” Our baby had lived for three days after the first ultrasound, then peacefully passed away.
And we despaired. Days of not wanting to get out of bed, of feeling that the future was bleak. Days of going to work and having to put smiles our faces. Days of yelling at God, asking him how he could take so much from us, why he didn’t protect the life we prayed so hard for. We wondered what was wrong and if we would ever be able to have children. Soon after, I prayed, “Father, please give us a child in 3 months.” And on the third month, he did.
We still have fears. We still pray protection over this little life. We still ask why and we still grieve for the two children we have lost and for my father. But we praise God for today and this moment, and the future to come. And we have to believe that the rainbow comes after the storm, and that healing can come from brokenness.