A sweet friend directed me to a site last night that reminded me today is National Day of Remembrance for pregnancy and infant loss. On one hand I hated remembering and on the other I knew that it was a necessary reminder.
There is nothing that grounds you in reality more than the loss of a friend, parent, sibling or worse a child. The reality however does not always have to drop you into a depressive state. We all know it's horrible to lose someone, but I would hope you know this world is not our end. So it's time for me to tell the story again. I believe part of the ongoing grieving process of losing someone is to retell the story and realize the blessing in it. Here is my story:
On September 8th 2006 I sat anxiously awaiting the result of my 19 week ultra sound. For the event, my husband sat at my side and my mother and father stood watching the ultra sound tech scan my belly. With great excitement, we waited to hear the words "this is definitely a boy". Those words were perfect...and then preceded by sentences like "this looks normal" and "that is on track". As her words permeated the air, our perfect moment was covered with false assurance, and my heart began to sink. Why would she have the need to point out what was RIGHT? Slowly, she reached up, shut the machine off, turned to my mom and dad and said: "Why don't you go to the waiting room for a bit while I talk to mom and dad here." The world was crashing and the bed I was sitting on was the only thing holding me up. Everything in that instant seemed wrong. The color of the paint on the walls, the bed was cold, my hands ceased to work and my eyes could no longer see. The next words we heard were slow, precise and definite: "I believe your baby has Trisomy 18...." and then the long explanation of what that meant to two people who had never even been aware of the term. The short of it? Our baby was not going to live. We drove to a specialist within minutes where the #2 Doctor in the world for ultra sound technology confirmed the diagnosis. We were asked 4 times that day to terminate. We responded 4 times that day there would, under no circumstances be a time we would be responsible for ending this life. If God's will was to take our son, we would let Him do it on His terms, not ours.
Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months and a name was bestowed on our son: Isaac Matthew Pipkin. He continued to thrive and live in me. The hardest part of the process was knowing as long as he was inside me, he was safe. However we grounded ourselves in the reality there would be a time when he HAD to come out. He had to meet his fate and journey on to the next thing God had planned for him. We had to meet our fate and journey on to the next thing God had planned for us. We lived day by day in the trenches with God. We begged for Him to ease our pain, we cried in His arms and spent many nights reading the words in Isaiah "our God is an everlasting God..." this was not the end...
On January 2nd at 39 weeks gestation, Isaac met the pain of the world and never drew a breath. You may read this and think 'how horrible' but here is where it gets good. God spared us and our son in more ways than one. When Isaac's heart stopped beating minutes before he was born I was spared the torment of holding him, watching his every move, listening to his every breath...wondering if that was the last one. I held him in my arms, examining every toe, every fingernail...he was a perfect 3lb baby. He was beautiful and he will ALWAYS be my first son. I held him in my arms while God held me in his.
I believe Isaac still lives, this is not the cliche "he will always live in my heart", his life is real and he is thriving. God has a plan for Isaac and it's a plan that can not be understood in human terms. I believe that about all our babies lost before they get to have life here on earth. We lose them in our understanding, but we gain them for eternity. Our world is so temporary. If a God could create THIS for us, I can't imagine what he has in store for us in our future life. I have said it a million times and I will continue to say it, I am blessed above mothers...my son was chosen by God before he had to make the decision to chose God. We raise our babies into adults and agonize over whether they will make that choice. The right choice.
God never promised life was going to be a blast of fun. What I can tell you is when you hit the bottom of desperation and He picks you up to hold you close, the peace that is promised to us, THAT peace is real. There is joy in pain. There is blessing in trouble. There is calm in the storm. God is good even when....and even if....
God is real, He chose Isaac and He is holding out for you...
