WARNING: This is the last in a series of 5 posts that get increasingly more dark and raw with each telling. Some readers may find the content triggering or difficult to read. Keep noticing the dates and remember that you haven't gotten to the end of the story yet. Remember that even in these dark moments, we were never alone. This one is rough. And it's long. I promise it's about to get better. Hope is coming.
June 3, 2022
It's been 3 weeks and 4 days since the appointment with Dr. K that changed everything. Only 2 weeks and 4 days since the MFM appointments that confirmed anencephaly. It has felt like a month AT LEAST.
We've been stupid busy.
From Monday, May 9th, to Saturday, May 14th, we canceled all plans. I cried constantly with barely any breaks. Michael worked hard and tried to squash his feelings. I talked to him about that and over the first weekend I kept finding him sitting someplace quietly "trying to feel." I personally couldn't bear to see anyone else at all that first week.
May 15th was our first Anencephaly Awareness Day - the day the elders prayed for us and we skipped church to go to the zoo.
May 16th was the confirmation appointment.
But then Tuesday, May 17th, my sanctuary from having company had to end. One of my longest friends lost her grandma and she wanted to sit and cry together. I had been in the mood to do that when I heard about her grandma. But this was the first day I hadn't cried all day and I was worn out and didn't want to start crying again. So I sat with her but I didn't cry.
On Wednesday, May 18th, I went to her grandma's visitation. I couldn't stay for the service and burial because I had Theo of course so I had to get him home to eat lunch and take a nap. I cried on the drive there and on the drive back. Her grandma was such a lovely and warm woman. I always felt welcome in their home.
It was also hard going to that knowing I need to plan a service and burial for Abigail. It was my first social gathering since May 9th when my world started to end and I wasn't ready to start telling new people about Abigail.
We had tried to take Theo to our neighborhood park in the week prior and got stopped by a neighbor, J. She wanted to know how the baby was doing. I watched her grow more silent and politely horrified as I explained what we had learned. I told her that we named her Abigail. That we'd been advised to abort her but that we've chosen to carry her for as long as we can and to enjoy every day we have with her. That was the first time I had to tell someone I don't really know and I didn't think that was gong to come up so soon.
I've since learned that what I said really impacted her. She told the other neighbors. One of them came running across the street when he saw me trying to leave the house with Theo on another day. He said J told him. He repeated word-for-word what I'd said to J. He wanted me to know how beautiful he thought it was and that there are a lot of people praying for us. I know his family is Christian so I assume that means he's told people at his church.
As much as I'd like to be able to take a walk in my neighborhood again without having to have these horribly painful conversations, I am so grateful he ran across the street to say that. Every parent wants their child to be great and make a difference. It means the world to me that Abigail has inspired someone already.
On Saturday, May 21st, we tried to take Theo and Abigail to our favorite family destination, an orchard, to pick strawberries. We've never done that before - we always go in September for apple picking. But we're so terrified she won't make it that long and we wanted to bring her to our favorite orchard.
We had breakfast in the restaurant and then got in line for the wagon but before we got on they closed down. A storm was coming and lightning had been spotted. We barely got inside before a HUGE storm hit. We went home. My BFF and her husband visited us and I was so thankful they made a special trip. They live 3 hours away. I needed her.
Monday, May 23rd, was two weeks since finding out. I couldn't hold K off any longer - she's been a good friend and she wanted to come help - so I asked her to come play with Theo while we got some chores done. I ended up sobbing in bed because we'd gotten a care box we weren't expecting that opened up all my emotions again. K found me like that.
I did end up going grocery shopping while she played with Theo and Michael did dishes. But I felt like a slug trying to shop. I couldn't think clearly.
On Wednesday, May 25th, I went to dinner with M. She paid. I picked up Dairy Queen on my way to her house afterward. It was a process and took longer than I wanted. I kept hearing the Holy Spirit...or feeling Him tug at me. Like "Hey, we could talk while you wait in traffic." I said "Nope!" and turned up the radio. I don't want to talk to Him. I don't want to hear what He has to say. I think I know already what He wants to tell me and I don't want to hear it. I don't mind telling Him how I feel though. There's a very stirred pot in my kitchen that was given some vigorous treatment while I screamed at Him and told Him just how pissed I am at Him.
I finally got our blizzards and I watched the Rifftrax of Twilight with M. It was just what I needed. Laughing helped. I desperately need more laughter.
On Friday, May 27th, K&R and our friend JS came over to play games. I talked about Abigail more than I ever had out loud in person.
We have had similar plans with people every day since then.
This past Wednesday, June 1st, S&S had their baby. Baby C was born at 9 pm. 7 lbs, 15 oz, 20.25 inches. I've been so incredibly anxious knowing S's time was coming. I've been obsessively praying for God's mercy. I know it's irrational but I'm suddenly terrified for every baby. This past week I could barely breathe at night thinking her time was coming and being so absolutely petrified that something would go wrong. I don't know if I've ever needed information like I needed from him when I found out she was in labor. I absolutely needed to hear that they were all okay. To see those first pictures of the baby, know if it was a boy or girl, hear the name for the first time. Know that both S and the baby were healthy and safe.
I woke up yesterday, June 2nd, not knowing anything more than that the baby had been born. I cried all morning. It was the most difficult morning I've had since that first week after my initial appointment with Dr. K. I was supposed to take Theo to a children's museum yesterday but I couldn't get up out of the chair in the living room. I was overwhelmed and exhausted and dejected. I'd barely slept the night before - constantly checking my phone for updates from S&S. I wept a lot.
I did finally get Theo up - way late around 9. I took him to the children's museum. He had fun but I felt awful. I was crampy and dizzy and weak. I thought I was losing Abigail and would have to call Michael to come get us from the museum. I couldn't think straight to calculate how long it would take to get to the hospital. Would I hemorrhage like the nurse had warned me I might? How could I bear losing her so soon? I just kept praying and telling God I wasn't ready, please not yet. I ended up sitting on the floor of the museum while Theo played, my head between my knees, eating half of Theo's snacks from his bag.
And now it's today. Friday, June 3rd. I'm still overwhelmed and exhausted. I'm constantly worried about Abigail. I wake up crying most mornings. I desperately want some alone time with Michael. Our finances seem to be worse and worse. I'm not sleeping well. My hips hurt all night and I often wake up early and cry all morning. I'm so scared Abigail will pass without us knowing.
Dr. K's office called to remind me of my anatomy ultrasound they had coming up the next Monday. I had to call them yesterday to remind them I've been transferred to MFM and have them cancel all my appointments. It was really difficult. Dr. K had promised she'd take care of that. I wish she had. That anatomy ultrasound was supposed to be when we found out gender. We had planned with family and friends to go to a beach and do a gender reveal photo shoot. Everything has changed.
My next appointment is on June 15th. I don't know what to expect but I'm terrified she'll be dead. Michael is coming with me.
In just 3 days I'll be 20 weeks along. Half-way. Too far away and too far along at the same time.
I'm starting to have to make plans for Abigail's last moments and how we'll say goodbye when I should be looking forward to bringing her home and introducing her to Theodore. It still feels like a nightmare. When will we wake up? How is this real?
I've surrendered my plans.
I wanted to have 3-4 children between 2019 and 2025 so that we'd be "done" by the time I'm 32. It's now 2022 and we've only made one baby to keep. There's no way I'll have 3 more between losing Abigail this year and 2025 - just 3 years from now. So I've decided I want to keep trying. Will Theodore be our only surviving child? We talked to a family at the pool last week. They said they were never able to get pregnant again. Their son is 7.
I decided I give up on having a number of children I want. I want a lot. I never thought I'd be the woman who wanted a big family but now here I am.
I've read so many stories about people who carried babies with anencephaly full term. And so many of them have had multiple healthy children since their worlds ended like ours has.
We pray together before Theo's nap every day and he has started praying (in gibberish) along with me sometimes. After I made the decision to go back to his normal routine, I decided to filter my words in our prayers. One time I was praying for Jesus to heal Abigail but I didn't use her name or say "baby" or anything that I thought would clue Theo in to what we were praying. I was shocked when he started praying too. I didn't understand all of it - most of it was gibberish - but I did catch the word "baby" and his serious tone. I believe he was praying for his baby sister. I've stopped filtering my prayers.
We've told him that mommy and daddy are really sad because his baby sister has a boo-boo on her head. He's been talking to my tummy and touching it and asking for baby to come out to play. We told him that we want her to stay inside because the doctors can't heal the ouchie on her head - only Jesus can. So when she does come out, we will have to say goodbye so that she can go be with Jesus in heaven. I'm never more angry than when I think of what is being taken from Theo.
Lord,
please. I feel like you've stopped hearing me. Or turned your face from me. You've hidden or no longer show your love to me. Lately all your answers feel like "nos."
Please heal Abigail. Please send us a rainbow. Never allow this to happen to us again.
Please.
In Jesus' Name,
Amen
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