One Year Ago Today....

As many of you may recall, on March 31, 2008, at our 20 week ultrasound, we were told that our baby was to become an angel. Approaching this anniversary date has affected us in ways that have been somewhat unexpected. Neither Brandon or I slept well last night and we both are just feeling a bit unsettled today. I have already had two good cries this morning...and will probably have another one tonight as I remember sleeping a year ago in a lonely hospital room, uncertain of what the morning would bring. I will be overcome with gratitude that tonight, I get to sleep beside my husband, with my children in the rooms next to ours, feeling our unborn daughter kick and turn inside of me. I will be overcome with sadness that the baby I carried one year ago is not here with us.

We were unaware, on this day one year ago, of the journey that was beginning for us. We were hopeful, that with enough bedrest, hydrotherapy, and IV fluids, that our baby would be okay. Reflecting back on the experience, I think we would have been much more scared if we had known, at that time, what the next few months would hold for us as we carried a baby that we would never get to bring home. God has great wisdom in only dishing out information as we can take it, although when in the midst of a crisis, the lack of answers is perhaps the most frustrating part of the process.

We would learn what it meant to simply "get through". We would face our worst fear...saying goodbye to one of our children. We would have to explain to our children that things don't always work out they way that we want them to...and sometimes, God calls even little babies to come and live with Him. We would feel discouragement and loneliness unlike any other. We would be told, over and over again, that the right decision, in the eyes of some, was to terminate the pregnancy. And we would learn, for a fact, how much we value the life of our children....born or unborn. We would also learn what an incredible support system surrounded us, as, on this night one year ago, my family stood around my hospital bed, holding hands, saying a prayer for Brandon, Connor, Kylee, and I, and for our unborn son. It was the beginning of so many prayer circles formed on our behalf.

Incredible. And painful. Anniversaries, particularly the first ones, are so difficult. When in the midst of a difficult time, the stress of the situation causes your body to go into overdrive....in a way, almost preventing you from experiencing the emotions that would accompany the situation in a different circumstance. But months or years later, that "overdrive" sensation is gone, and you are grieving the loss in a way that is perhaps even more raw than when it actually happened. It is very healing, but also very difficult.

Today is also the nine month anniversary of the day we met Caden. I have spent time this week looking at pictures of him and can't believe how strong the longing to hold him is. His naked little body, his gorgeous red hair, his sweet little cheeks...all formed so perfectly. Seeing the love in our family's faces as they gazed down at him. It's amazing.

Baby boy, we love you more than words can express. And, as painful as the journey that began one year ago today has been, we are so thankful for the days we had with you.

You were worth all of it.

Approaching Friday...

Many kind folks have inquired as to when our 20 week sonogram is. I appreciate it that people have asked, because it means they understand, on some level, the anxiety that surrounds this typically joyous landmark of a "normal" pregnancy. Our sonogram is this Friday.

On March 30th of last year, our world came crumbling down around us. Our 20 week ultrasound quickly spiraled into a real-time nightmare as we saw the lack of fluid around our son.

Knowing that our baby girl has kidneys and a bladder has helped to relieve some of this fear as we prepare to walk into the sonogram room this time. However, there is a residual anxiety that we carry with us as a result of our experience with Caden...so we are grateful for your prayers. We have decided to take the kids with us, hoping that getting to see a healthy baby on the screen will bring healing to them. They are counting down the months until this baby joins us here at home.

Pregnancy after loss is incredibly healing. I wish I could express how different our approach and reverence for this little life is following the loss of our son. Every landmark is even more precious...every little kick a huge blessing. We know these moments are to be treasured...and the realization that some babies' lives, like Caden's, consist only of the time they've spent in their mother's womb drives this point home even harder.

Moments of uncertainty are also magnified...the fears, the knowledge of what all could go wrong...tell me that we won't fully enjoy this little one until she is here with us on the outside...breathing and moving in our arms. Every appointment brings my heart up into my throat...will we hear or see her heartbeat? Is she okay? Will there be fluid? It's a far cry from the typical "How much weight have I gained THIS time?" type worries I had in my pregnancies with Connor and Kylee.

The other thing I have learned, thanks to our journey with Caden, is that we are entirely powerless to control the outcome of this pregnancy. And if, heaven forbid, we were asked to go through another loss, He would get us through it. I praise Him through that uncertainty, and trust in His plan for this baby...praying that she gets to come home with us, but knowing if, at any point, we get bad news, we will celebrate our daughter's life for what it has been so far. This viewpoint is a blessing and a curse. We are soaking up each and every day that she is with us.

We will let you know what Friday brings. And in the meantime, thanks for your prayers.