Disbelief

Warning. This post discusses loss. 

I’m still in a state of shock.

Total disbelief that our daughter is gone.

I’ve never lived in belief that nothing bad happens. I know it does. I have very close friends who I’ve walked alongside as they’ve travelled down this road before. Further in their pregnancies. Perfect babies born silently.

It makes no sense.

And, yet, I never considered that this could happen to us.

We are older with this baby. There are additional risks. Statistics. Blah blah blah.

And, I had more information about this baby than any of my other babies at this point. We’d had 2 ultrasounds. Perfect results from both. At 13 weeks and 3 days, I saw my little girl happily squirming around. She looked like she was dancing. She lifted her arms, put her hands to her mouth and appeared to wave to the ultrasound machine. She was adorable. Joyful. Yes, I felt like I knew her personality at this young of an age.

When I went to my regular check up appointment last week, I was concerned. My little fluttering baby was no longer fluttering. I couldn’t feel her the night before. I knew that was a possibility given we were only 17 weeks along, but I was concerned because I felt flutters earlier in the pregnancy and now felt nothing.

We will never know this side of heaven why her perfect little heart stopped beating.

I have faith that God is walking this road with us.  But, I do not pretend to understand the why. Mary-Linda is loved deeply and we believe the Lord grieves with us and did not plan this for her life.

Jeremiah 29, verses 11-13 says “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you. You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart.”

We never expected to leave the hospital this way. Without our baby girl in our arms. Huddled up. Hoping. Praying. Asking for God to get us through and bonding together.

The loss of a child is unbearable. It’s unimaginable and we can not walk this road alone. I am thankful for each of your prayers. Every prayer, every meal, every playdate, every hug- it confirms that we are not in this alone. Even when we feel so isolated. I’ve learned one thing from this experience.

My children give THE BEST HUGS.