It seems like we are in the exact same place that we have been since grief first entered our lives nearly five years ago but that’s not entirely true. It is similar but different because with each new life is a person – an unrepeatable, unique person – with a story to share.
Similar to my struggle to write about Marian Grace, I found myself uninspired and unable to write about latest beloved little one, Dominic Michael. I can only wish this post was my announcement that I have a healthy baby due in November but rather it is a recount of my son’s short life so it is not forgotten. This is about Dominic Michael and his life – his irreplaceable, beautiful, eternal life.
And for months, I had wondered if I would ever be pregnant again. A year doesn’t seem like a long time but when you are in the midst of yearning this deep desire it can feel like an eternity.
Dominic’s story may be similar to his siblings but in many ways is different. My inner dialogue didn’t change much and I quickly felt guilty because I had gotten laxed on taking my prenatal vitamins and other meds my doctor had prescribed. With so many prenatal losses, hopelessness began to creep its way into my heart despite having most tests came back ‘normal’ and no solid explanations as to why there has been recurrent miscarriage. It felt like the odds were stacked against us but from the moment I saw those two pink lines, things were different – new life had begun and became a family of eleven.
For this pregnancy I enlisted a few more prayer warriors, especially from other young mothers whose friendship has brought about healing in ways I am eternally grateful. Their love and compassion for me as a person, a friend and a mother has healed the hurt done by many others.
While many complain about morning sickness and fatigue, I hoped and prayed for it. In my twisted logic, I thought if I had overwhelming morning sickness and/or fatigue then it meant that everything was just fine. The morning sickness never came and things didn’t turn out just fine but I know it’s not because I didn’t have morning sickness.
Also, I opted to not have my blood drawn every other day like all my other pregnancies. My doctor said we have done the blood work so many times before that we know what is ‘normal’ for you. I was hesitant but agreed it would be less stressful to go in once a week and just let it be. This took a lot of patience and trust.
Before every blood draw, I received the Sacrament of Anointing. So much peace and relief followed. It was all in God’s hands. I always knew that but after being anointed the grace was overwhelming. Little doubt could penetrate the mantel of grace. All my draws were beautifully increasing – thank you, Jesus! At the moment when we would begin to hear bad news, we got good news. My hormone levels reached record high numbers for me. I was blown away and overjoyed.
Many who were praying and even my doctor and her receptionist shared that they just had a ‘feeling’ that things were going to work out this time. I found myself beginning to share in the same sentiment.
I began wondering what the following months would be like and how different our lives would be to finally have a baby to hold and raise.
I thought about creative ways to ‘announce’ our rainbow baby. I thought about which room in our new house would be the nursery. I thought about how my pregnant belly would look for my 30th birthday this summer. I thought about Dominic and my niece, Michaela, being only a month apart and growing up together with Gabriel. I thought about what this baby would look like. If he would have Rex’s cute nose or my eyes. I thought about finally being the parents standing before our church seeking baptism for our child.
But just as quickly as my thoughts of the future came, things took a turn when we had an early ultra sound appointment during Easter week. We were hopeful and excitedly waited for my doctor to come into the room. I was almost nine weeks pregnant, still super early but should have been able to hear or see a heartbeat. Sadly, there was no heartbeat. My doctor compassionately touched my hand and said I’m so sorry. She gave Rex and I a few minutes to be alone.
I wept. It doesn’t get any easier hearing this news, even though we’re all too familiar. Rex led us in a prayer of thanksgiving for our little one. As we walked out the doctor’s office all of our hopes and dreams of raising our sweet Dominic diminished knowing that he has joined his siblings.
Again God has broken my heart open. Through my grief, God reveals Himself and calls me into a deeper relationship in Him. This is the Year of Trust and I know all too well that, “God’s ways are higher than my ways.”
Yet, despite all the loss and grief, I haven’t lost hope. I believe that, God-willing one day, we will be holding and raising a beloved little one. Call me naive or unrealistic but my God is the God of the impossible. And no matter what life brings, we have nine personal intercessors… for now and we will open heartily welcome however many God blesses us with, yet still hope to raise at least one here on earth.
“For nothing will be impossible for God” Luke 1:37
Praying for you,