Two years ago today, my life turned upside down. We received the news that our baby boy had many medical problems, most likely attributed to trisomy 13.
Oh, I miss him. I miss feeling him move just slightly in me (he was never overly active… he must have needed to save his energy for his precious 63660 seconds seeing his papa and brothers and family and friends, too).
I looked today for his ultrasound pictures from that day. I had forgotten that the ultrasound tech never gave them to us. We didn’t get his picture for six more days at the echo ultrasound for his heart. Yet, I can still picture in my mind the image of what we thought was him sucking his thumb. I can still see Johnny over in the corner saying, “Boy, the baby has a big nose.” I can still see the purple on the screen of the second ultrasound of that day (we had four and the amnio, which I never thought I would have ever consented to). I still feel Dr. Felix giving me a hug before delivering the news. I still hear her saying, “Best case scenario…worst case scenario.” I still picture the high risk OB and her tech who stayed late to give us some answers.
And, although I lost it for a while, I still have hope. God has brought me through every tear, every lost hair, every sleepless night. He has wrapped His loving arms around me and displayed His awesome love and power with, in, and through all the people who continue to support us.
And, in other ways He comforts me. Earlier this week, I read an article that discussed how researchers have shown that women will sometimes have male cells in their blood stream. That can only come from having carried a little boy in their womb. I find some comfort in the thought that a small piece of him may continue to live in me.
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We are Jedidiah. 