So, way back in October, a dear girl stranger across state lines was joined to me by the thread of tragedy.
At a routine checkup at 15 weeks, the doctor couldn’t detect a heart rate for her little baby.
They squeezed her into an ultrasound room and when she saw her baby kicking and squirming, she was elated. But, like me, that wasn’t the end of the story. The heart rate wasn’t detected because it was so slow – 80 beats per minute. (Normal is anywhere from 125-160 or so.)
There were other issues. Some things were bigger than they should have been. Mom was in the “older” category.
“Come back in two weeks for another ultrasound….if this baby makes it that long.” She was told.
Google can be such a friend. Sometimes. (Have you ever tried identifying a house spider?) And sometimes it can even introduce friends.
Google: “trisomy 18 and homeschooling” seemed to be the key to this one. She found me, and I found a friend who knew.
She knew what it was like to think that perhaps not being pregnant anymore would be easier than what we could be facing. And she knew what it was like to feel guilty over those sorts of thoughts. And then not to feel guilty about them. And to have unintentionally harsh words said by others close to us.
And she knew what it felt like to be alone. Where the meals and messages and prayers and cards lifted spirits, but still couldn’t reach deep enough to truly touch those spirits.
And suddenly, something rather providential happened. I wasn’t alone anymore. As awful as her situation seemed, I was grateful. Because I needed her. And she needed me. And our hearts were knit through computer screens and fingers typing and emails and facebook photos of our kids.
We were walking down the same rough road – just a few weeks apart – on the same journey. Oh it felt so comforting to have a friend to walk along with.
Go forward a couple of weeks to November. We had found out we were having a boy. We named him Kyle Nathaniel. She had her ultrasound. We were both rather certain of what her outcome would be, fearful of the worst.
But her text was short and I could feel the joyful elation coming through her words.
“Kim, Baby is alive. A boy. Heart fine. Bladder good. praise Him!”
All of a sudden, two roads diverged. My new friend was now walking a very different road for me. Yes, we were both still pregnant; we both were having boys; we had been given the same potential diagnosis.
But her boy would live. Mine would not.
Yes, I was happy for her. But how do you express that without the human tainting of the strong desires of your own heart. No, I wasn’t jealous. I was just alone. Again. I was glad she didn’t have to go through what I was…but I couldn’t understand. Why her boy and not mine?
I’ll finish this beautiful match making story soon.
Welcome to July – the month of goodnesses. I have so many stories of the good things that have happened to us in the past few months. I just have to share all of them. You’re gonna be amazed as I am at the God I have?
Stay tuned and Jump here to read part two.