April 29th

Having one of those, “I know I need to blog cause I feel like a hot mess” moments.  So, bear with me.  After blogging about the Jubilee Duggar episode the other day, I decided I HAD to watch it.  So, I gathered a few of my dearest friends and we sat down to watch it.  With sangria. 

Even if you haven’t seen it, you can imagine how sad it is.  It’s heartbreaking to even the average person.  The Duggars find out, at a routine diagnostic ultrasound, that their precious baby has passed away.  There is no heartbeat.  After it originally aired, so many of my Infant Loss Mommas had Facebook status updates about how hard it was to watch…

What I wasn’t expecting was that it brought back so many memories for me.  It’s been three years tomorrow, since we had our diagnostic ultrasound for Gabriel.  The day we learned he would soon die.  The day we were told we “should terminate the pregnancy,” and that we shouldn’t feel badly for making such a decision because there was “no way he would survive once outside the womb.”

We walked into that day so naïve, so innocent.  We were still undecided about whether or not we were going to find out the sex; I wanted to, Kyle did not.  We actually thought that was the hardest decision we’d have to make that day.  Mind blowing.

Memories of that day are just flooding into my head.  Part of me doesn’t want to re-live them, the other part of me hopes I never forget – because they are part of the very short life of our little angel…  The way our lively, casual conversation with the ultrasound tech turned into silence as she searched and searched with her wand.  Hearing our doctor say, “I’ll be praying for you guys” as he walked out of the room.  Having the compassionate nurse cry with us as she escorted us out a side door, so we didn’t have to walk in front of the other pregnant patients in the waiting room.  Arriving in Frederick for the specialist to confirm the fatal diagnosis…  the girl at the front desk smiled and said, “How are you today?” as I wrote my name on the clipboard.  I just looked at her.  No words.  She apologized for asking such a silly question.

The ride home was really quiet.  I just cried and cried.  We arrived at home with both my mom and Kyle’s mom waiting for us to return.  We had a decision to make.

I remember thinking - I can’t go into labor, and give birth, to a baby I know will die.  But, I was already 20 weeks.  So, even if we chose termination, I would be delivering a baby.  I remember thinking - How am I going to be strong enough to continue to physically grow, and feel more and more kicks, knowing the end result?  It was too much.  I felt at the time that it was a hard decision.  But, now I realize there was no decision to be made.  It was never my right to decide when Gabriel would pass away.  I would, after lots of prayers and tears, decide to “carry to term” and cherish every moment I had with my little man until he left this earth.

Sometimes I look back and have regrets, but it’s never about choosing to carry to term.  I wish I enjoyed every movement, every kick, every second I was allowed to hold him that close to me while I was pregnant.  I wish I was more selfish about my time with him once he was born.  Don't get me wrong, I am glad I allowed everyone who wanted to meet him and hold him to have that chance, but now that I know I only had two hours, I wish I spent those one hundred and twenty minutes just staring at his face, and kissing those cheeks, and cuddling that little body.  And, call me crazy (unless you've been in my shoes, cause then you'll totally understand), I wish I kept him with me longer after he passed.  Slept with him in my arms, even.  Because even though I knew his spirit had left his body, that tiny body was all I would ever have on this side of Heaven.

As I type, the tears are just flowing.  And I know that’s good.  It’s healing to release them.  If there is one thing I am very grateful for, it’s that I know I will be with him again.  I will have much more than two hours with Gabriel soon, an eternity, in fact.  How amazing!  How grateful I am that he is in a better place, that he will never feel pain or sorrow or rejection.  That he’ll never have acid reflux, or a skinned knee, or a broken heart.  No, his days are filled with worship, happiness, and joy. 

Momma misses you, Gabey baby!!!  There is not ONE DAY that has passed in these three years that I have not thought of you and longed for you to be with this family.  You are so loved and so, so missed.