Archive for December, 2012

December 31, 2012

What brings sadness and joy as time progresses?

The joyful news that Heather is leaving to work in Seattle.  I am overjoyed for her, for her career.  But, knowing that both she and Nathan (he left this fall) are no longer at News Channel 5, just causes an ache in my heart.  Heather and Nathan brought something to our time with Jedidiah that we could never have had without them.  They are incredibly precious to me.  Their hearts—so giving, so loving.  Their talents—such blessings.

Lord, God, thank You for them, and please bless them as they continue on their journeys through this life.  Thank You so very much that You allowed our paths to cross.  From the moment of receiving Jedidiah’s diagnosis, we wanted nothing more than to ensure his life brought You glory.  You used Heather and Nathan to bring that prayer into reality.  Thank You and hold them close.  Amen.

December 9, 2012

The thrill of hope

Don’t I feel foolish. The ONEless video had a precious little with trisomy 21 (down’s syndrome). All the little ones were saying, “I am ONEless.”  His sign said, “I may have one more chromosome… But I am ONEless.” I lost it; my heart broke into pieces. I started sobbing, ran out of the sanctuary. Ugh. Grief is a process.
I typed that up as soon as I calmed down (yes, on my smart phone during church).  Then, the worship band began “O Holy Night.” The line “the thrill of hope, a weary world rejoices” felt like a hug from the LORD (and then again when Pastor Pat spoke specifically about them in his message).  I remembered the moment He restored my hope after we lost Jedidiah.  I remembered the aching, emptiness; I had just felt it anew.  Yet, there is hope.  I don’t know how to describe the difference in the depth of my emotions from yesterday to the moment of seeing that precious little boy today.  I missed Jedidiah yesterday, but my heart did not physically hurt like it does now, just wanting to lay down and cry until I sleep.  Today, I ache; the sobs are so close to the surface; my eyes are moist.  And, still, there is the thrill of hope… this weary mom rejoices.

December 8, 2012

2 years ago… the ultrasound that started it all.

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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