Confusion, as the ultrasound tech leaves to get the doctor. Hushed voices on the other side of the door. Poking and prodding. No tell-tale “thump,thump,thump,thump”, the sweetest sound you’ll ever hear. We never heard it. Condolences all around. The pregnancy stopped progressing at 8 weeks. “So sorry for your loss.” “You can try again soon, you are so young.” “A blessing in disguise.” Disgust. Pain. “Why God? Haven’t you taken enough?”
Tears. Sedation. Surgery. Recovery. No medication for the ache inside, for the aching of an empty womb.
A caring priest pours prayer, power, and oil of healing on our heads. “You are parents.” “The vocation of parenthood is to welcome souls that will glorify God in Heaven. He’s already there. Mission accomplished.” “Give him a name, a name you can call him, and remember.”
Michael John. “Who is like God? and God is generous.” He gives and takes away. Blessed be His name.
This month, our first baby, our little one in Heaven, would have turned two.
Read it all here.
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