I’ve been MIA for a few days, and to tell you the truth I think I’ve been MIA in the real world too. I haven’t felt like doing much of anything lately and my heart is broken. Does anyone ever feel like sometimes God hears us in the most dreadful of ways.
Let me rewind. Back in February my fertile friend told us they were pregnant just after two months of trying. Horrible of me to say, but I was devastated. I thought for sure that we were the next in line. But we weren’t. I have to admit, I was angry, sad and yes, jealous. I prayed a lot about it. I asked Him to forgive me for my jealousy, and anger. But I also prayed that He would take care of her and her little one. I asked Him why it wasn’t me. Had I done something wrong to not deserve to be in her shoes? I found myself thinking back as far as I can remember and apologizing for every single bad thought or action that I had done over the course of my life and pleading with Him to give us our baby. I was happy for her, but I just couldn’t feel the excitement that I knew she felt. I know, I’m a horrible, awful, wretched person. But over the months I became more and more happy for her. I knew that come November I would be able to be a part of a child’s life. If not my own, then someone that I care very much for.
On Saturday I had asked her to call me on Monday just to let me know how her OB appt. went. Monday evening she did as I asked, but only to tell me that she had lost the baby. My world stopped. How could something like this happen? She was 22 weeks and although had not gained much weight, she was still healthy and so was the pregnancy.
Phone calls spread like wild fire. We all jumped at the opportunity to be there for her, and we all were. When I walked into the L&D ward, I couldn’t imagine that I would be here for this. A fleeting moment passed where I found myself praying for her, the baby and me and DH. “Please Lord, take care of them. And please give me the chance to walk through these doors as a patient and not a visitor.” Selfish I’m sure.
As we all entered her room and offered hugs and condolences, I noticed the shock in her face. She had been crying, but seemed to be over that part, and now just trying to sort everything out. Her DH. while not visibly crying, had the most lost look on a person I had ever seen. We stayed with her as long as we could. They brought her the pills to begin labor and as we left I found myself bargaining with God again.
Tuesday evening had come at a pain staking slow pace. We went to visit her after watching her girls and within minutes she had delivered. A boy. What they had been praying for all along, though they didn’t know for sure until he was born. He was tiny. Only about 8” long and maybe a pound. I didn’t expect them to share their experience withall of us, but they did. We went into her room, and wrapped in a tiny blue blanket with a white knit hat on his head there he was. There was the root of all our excitement and happiness.
Nothing could have prepared me for what we were about to experience. She had asked if we all wanted to hold him. I politely declined because I was afraid. Then the priest came, baptized him and asked for that little baby to be with his mother in spirit for the rest of her life. I lost it. I began to think about my own angel, and asked for my sweet baby to be with me. In that moment, I knew that I had to hold him. He was her baby, and it was important for all of us to recognize that regardless of how graphic it was. She asked for my DH to hold him too. “Do you want to hold my baby?” Those words have been forever ingrained in my head. I put my fears aside, and held him. I looked at him with some fear, but knew that I could not look at him for what he looked like, but for what he was supposed to be, and for what he meant to all of us, especially his mom and dad. My DH held him and as I watched him swallow his tears, I could see every one of his fears. Fears for them, and for us.
It was just a matter of hours that we had been at the same hospital for our 4th IUI. An IUI that we have been so optimistic about. Now, although trying to stay optimistic, our fears are now more real than ever. In this moment, as if it were a ton of bricks that hit me I realized that no matter how many shots, follies, tests, sperm cups, dildo cams and “bargains” made with God, life is not something that any of us can control. I needed to let go of my control of this. This sweet tiny baby boy, who laid lifeless in all of our hands, was just another reminder for all of us just how powerful fate, karma, God, science, whatever you believe in, is.
While everyone around me wept, my tears stopped. I had found myself realizing that bargains aren’t prayers, and that I have to accept His will for whatever it is. I know now, that I don’t have all the answers to life, and I never will. Some things, while as random as they may seem, are planned with great precision. I don’t have a reason for why this baby never made it to this world, and I sympathize for the world who has missed out on this baby and the great things he would have accomplished. But in the few hours that we got to spend with him, he made one of the biggest impacts in my life, and everyone elses’ that was there with him. The priest told his mother that he and all of the lost children are in God’s hands. I have to believe that. I have to believe that God’s purpose, while it may seem cruel, was the right thing to do. Just as I have to believe, that my infertility, and loss while painful, has a higher purpose.
Many of us have lost our angels, and I like to think that maybe they are all in this same garden some where just waiting for the right time to return to their parents. Some will wait until their mother and father come for them in heaven, while others will return to live with them here. Therefore, it gives me great comfort to know that both my friend and I will once again have our babies, whether on Earth, or in our own gardens in heaven. I can only hope though that we are both lucky enough to have them here with us.