27 June 2010

Caught Between Two Worlds

Returning to our story. Continuing on from the post - "The Hardest News to Break."

Our grief slowly began to transform into hope and everyday we held tightly onto it. Hope was what picked us up after those devastating phone-calls and gave us the motivation to carry on.
Our hope was firmly connected to our faith. We held onto the hope that our baby may be able survive this condition (for how long, we did not know). Looking back, hope was very important to us, it helped us to keep going. How do you go on living day to day with a life growing inside of you without hoping that a miracle could take place? It would have felt like we were giving up on her. It was a confusing time for us - we were 'grieving' yet no one had died and we were 'hoping' even though we were told that there was no hope. We held onto hope but grief was still part of our everyday lives. We had lost the 'joy' of having a healthy pregnancy and a healthy baby.
Sixteen weeks into the pregnancy we went to visit the hospital's chaplain. He was a lovely man. One of the first things he said to us was, "Remember - your baby will always be 'your daughter' and she will always be your 'fourth born child'. This will always be so."  Hearing that was a great comfort to me, this was fact and it could not be taken away from me. But not all the chaplain had to say that day was comforting. During our discussion on faith I asked him if he thought there was a chance that our baby could live - to this he answered... "No." What? Are you serious? No hope? The carpet was swiftly ripped out from under me. No, please don't take my hope away from me! What am I to think now? The chaplain however was simply telling me the truth, and I began the painful journey of accepting reality. But where does that leave me now? What do I pray for? Hope for? It was all so painful. Oh my darling baby - what does this mean? 
I confided in a good friend about the roller coaster ride of hope and reality that I was on. What was I to do? She suggested that I hold on to 'small hopes' - one step at a time. Yes, that sounded reasonable. My first hope was for my baby to live past the 20 week mark. Babies born after 20 weeks gestation are registered by law and receive a birth certificate. It was important to have my little baby recognised as having been here, a part of our lives and a part of this world. Yes, little hopes were going to be better than no hope at all.
However, despite all our hopes, dreams, struggles and grief we ultimately knew that the end result rested securely in the hands of the Creator of Life. All we really needed to do and could do was - trust.

2 comments:

Sarah said...

We were in that same boat Jules. We had to hope- we had to believe- to make it through those difficult weeks. And that hope was encouraged by the boys "condition" improving...things looking better...whilst knowing they would likely still grow out of the placenta and still need to be born super early. We wanted 30 wks. We got nearly 25.

I couldn't give up on our boys either- I so understand that. We still hoped for a miracle- that they'd somehow survive this...I think that grieving was pushed aside for me because I was so hoping that God would perform this miracle.

I am also so thankful our boys were recognised by law as being born. They will always be our 2nd and 3rd born children and our twin sons/brothers. I will always be a mother of 4 now...even if I only ever have 2 (God willing) here with me.

sigh- my heart aches for you my beautiful friend.

Anonymous said...

I'm thankful for the trust we have in God, love Beth

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