Going to the doctor’s office to have the first ultrasound to look for the heartbeat of our baby or babies and to find out if there was one or two, I was a nervous wreck. I had never had an ultrasound that showed a live baby, and we were so hoping that we would see two little heart beats, proof that both babies were alive and well. We had told God we wanted His will, but I hated the idea of having to say goodbye to another child.
Arriving at the office, we signed in and sat anxiously waiting to be taken back. I tapped my foot, took out my phone, and tried unsuccessfully to make small talk with Read who was equally anxious. We were finally called back to the room to have the ultrasound and I got ready and hopped up on the table expectantly. First the sonographer showed us a baby with a heartbeat and we were ecstatic rejoicing over our little miracle. Then she said, “It looks like there’s only one. Is that okay?” There was a split second when I considered telling her it was not okay; to keep looking until she found my other baby. The realization hit me that we had lost another child. God had given us one live baby instead of two.
Next we met with the nurse practitioner, and she gave us follow-up instructions, then she hugged us both and congratulated us on a healthy baby with a strong heartbeat. It was such a bittersweet appointment; we were so grateful for one miracle baby, but finding out that there was only one live baby meant that one more of our children had died.
Once we made it to the car, we just sat there staring straight ahead, trying to come to grips with our conflicting emotions. The joy of seeing a live baby on the ultrasound; the sorrow of only seeing one live baby on the ultrasound. The joy of seeing a precious beating heart; the sorrow and realization that we would never meet that other precious child this side of heaven.
Read expressed his disappointment, but I stubbornly refused to acknowledge my grief yet. I had cried so many tears over the loss of seven other children; my heart wasn’t ready to deal with the loss of number eight. I so desperately needed to be happy and joyful and excited about our good news. We had lost so much; I felt a dire need to focus on the joy before dealing with more pain and loss.
Please do not misunderstand me, we are so excited about this coming baby. We talk, we plan, we hope, we dream; but there’s still the realization that there are other members of our family missing. When I stop and allow myself to work through all of the emotions, it becomes a little overwhelming; and so I turn to the Lord and ask Him how He expects me to deal with so much. Then I am gently reminded that He gave His only Son for me so that I can enjoy eternity in a perfect place with Him and all my children. That, in the midst of the sorrow, is my greatest joy.