In the immortal words of Langston Hughes...
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
When the answers to our prayers are "no" or "not yet", what happens to those questions in our hearts? Or our faith in God? Do they wither like the overripe fruit on the vine? Do our hearts become rotten or infected? Maybe they become leaden and take us to the depths of despair. Or do they fill with anguish to the point of bursting?
I came to realize last week that our dream of having another baby has been deferred. R. and I discussed baby names over lunch before we went to our first OB appointment. Today we were going to hear Baby K's heartbeat for the first time, and I for one could hardly stand the suspense. I was ready to pull down my pants in the waiting room and grab the gel and doppler and find the heartbeat myself. In my mind, things aren't official and fine until that first sound of a strong heartbeat, so needless to say I was anxious.
The midwife searched for a while, and after no success, got us an appointment to have an ultrasound because she knew I would worry until I heard the heartbeat. Once we got settled into the ultrasound room, the tech worked for 45 straight minutes, pressing so hard into my flesh that I thought she was going to break the skin. I'm fairly certain I didn't breathe that entire time. She excused me to the bathroom at one point so we could try something different. As I walked in there and shut the door, the knot in my throat was neary choking me. I prayed that God would be with me again like the time in Shreveport when T. died. I could tell this day was not going to end well.
In the end, I was almost 10 weeks along, but the baby measured 7 weeks and did not have a heartbeat. My worst nightmare had come true. This little one had left us as quietly as he or she had come. No idea about the gender of the baby. No idea whose eyes or nose it had. So many questions and no answers.
The following day I had to have a D&C. I was emotionally wrenched, physically exhausted, and completely scared about the procedure. I was so blessed to have wonderful doctors and nurses attending to me, and an OB who was kind and gentle with his words and presence. Physically I have felt very good, as good as can be expected after it's all said and done.
But emotionally this is still such a punch to the gut. R. was holding my hand in the pre-op area, being both my strength and my comfort through his own anguish. I've never seen a man with such a tender heart and positive, firm resolve at the same time. I absolutely could not have endured this without him emotionally and physically by my side. We both agreed that it is so amazing how much you can love someone that you've never met. And the fact that he's ready to try again as soon as the doctor gives us the obstetric "green light" blesses me so much. I am so thankful that God placed this wonderful man in my life, and I feel that we are even closer now as we go through this experience together. Being a pessimist by nature, I believe that God is using R. to encourage me to have hope and to not let this deferred dream ache longer than it should, or to allow it to spiral my heart down to miry depths.
Another person witnessing hope to me is my son, Bud. Li'l G took the news harder than he did, but Bud is the minister of prayer in our home, taking charge of blessing our meals ever since he was just a little pipsqueak. Now, at every meal after asking the blessing, he asks God to take care of our baby and to send us another one. *sniff, sniff* Didn't Jesus ask us to have childlike faith? If my five year-old can trust in God to handle this situation and bless our family according to God's will, certainly so can I.
My heart still yearns to have the little one we lost, but it is even more hopeful of happiness to come. In the meantime I will focus on the family that I have been blessed with thus far and taking care of my body so that, in God's time, I will be as prepared as possible for another pregnancy. A heartfelt thank you to all of those who have lifted us in love and prayer and blessed us with kind words and friendship.
"The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul..." Psalm 23:1-3 (KJV)
