My Child is a Gift

Recently I joined a Facebook group for other mamas who have carried to term with a fatal diagnosis.  After sharing my story and my blog, I was honored to be invited to participate in a "Blog Hop" for bereaved parents.  I hope that reading our stories will bring healing to our readers.  Writing brings healing to me, as does sharing my journey with others who have walked this path.  Thank you for reading my son's story and visiting my blog!

When you're finished reading my post, return to the blog hop over at She Brings Joy.

Being a child-loss mother comes with a roller-coaster of emotions.  Elation and happiness, shock and disbelief, anger and fear, pain and mourning.  Sometimes the emotions threatened to overwhelm me.

I was on a high mountain top upon finding out I was pregnant, elated with adding another child to our family.  My husband and I dreamed of the way our future would be, excited that our daughter, Alice, would be a big sister.  Those first few months of pregnancy, we were blissfully unaware of how our lives were about to change forever.

On October 1, 2014, my husband and I went in for a routine ultrasound at 21 weeks of pregnancy.  Immediately the technician could tell something was wrong.  Our baby had extremely low levels of amniotic fluid and polycystic kidneys.  A follow-up appointment confirmed a fatal diagnosis of Potter's Syndrome.

We were in shock.  We were angry.  Why would God put it in our hearts to have a child that was going to be ripped away from us?

Though things did not turn out the way we wanted, we have come to see our son Jonah's life as a gift.

My child is a gift, not a choice.
When we received Jonah's diagnosis, some doctors encouraged us to terminate the pregnancy.  They tried to scare me, saying that carrying this baby was a serious threat to my health.  (I never had any health problems.)  They said, your child is so abnormal, why carry him when there is no chance of survival?  (My child is loved and wanted, even if he doesn't survive.)  They said, you need to end this now so you can start to "get over it" and get on with your life.  (I will never be able to get over it.)

My husband and I chose to carry our son because he was a gift from God.  He was wanted and loved.  From the moment he was conceived, Jonah was a person.  Even though his kidneys and lungs didn't from properly, we could still hear his heart beating each and every time we went to the doctor's office.  As long as his heart was beating, I would carry him.  Ending his life was never a choice we had the right to make; we left it to God to decide.

My child is a gift, not a burden.
Because of the low amniotic fluid, I could feel every little kick and movement starting around 14 weeks of pregnancy.  Feeling the life growing inside of me was such a gift at first.  But after the diagnosis, it was bittersweet.  While I appreciated the sweet moments of feeling my son alive and well, each movement reminded me that he would not be staying with us.

During the last month of my pregnancy, I felt burdened.  It was very uncomfortable carrying Jonah, because there was no amniotic fluid to act as a cushion between him and me.  The grief was constantly hanging over us.  The fear and dread would not go away; knowing that we would never bring Jonah home from the hospital, and planning a funeral instead of a baby shower.  But we were committed to honoring God by carrying Jonah, and no amount of discomfort could change my mind.  We were blessed to deliver Jonah a few weeks early when I went into labor.  The burdensome time was over.  But looking back now, feeling his life within me was a gift.

My child is a gift to others.
Because of Jonah's life, others have been blessed.  I have been a Christian for as long as I can remember, but it has always been hard for me to share my faith with others.  Because of Jonah, the doors are open wide to share my faith and what God has done in our lives.  Throughout this journey, my husband and I have been committed to standing firm in our faith and being a witness to others.  (Watch him share our story with our church family here.)

When Jonah passed away, we set up a memorial fund at our daughter's preschool.  With the money that was donated, a kind and talented community member built a playhouse for the children at the preschool.  (Read more about Jonah's Schoolhouse here.)  This awesome structure is a gift to the children of our community, and it reminds me of my son each time I see it.

My child is a treasure in heaven.
I recall a time toward the very end of my pregnancy, when I spoke with another mother who had lost her infant son.  She said to me, having a child in heaven is a treasure.  At the time, I thought that sounded crazy.  How could all of this suffering and saying goodbye to my child possibly be a treasure?!  But now, after some time has passed, I can understand how she was right.

Matthew 6:19-21 (NLT) reads, "Don't store up treasures here on earth, where they can be eaten by moths and get rusty, and where thieves break in and steal.  Store your treasures in heaven, where they will never become moth-eaten or rusty and where they will be safe from thieves.  Wherever your treasure is, there your heart and thoughts will be also."

Philippians 3:20-21 (NLT) reads, "But we are citizens of heaven, where the Lord Jesus Christ lives.  And we are eagerly waiting for him to return as our Savior.  He will take these weak mortal bodies of ours and change them into glorious bodies like his own, using the same mighty power that he will use to conquer everything, everywhere."  

I am confident that my son is in heaven.  He will never get sick or experience heartbreak.  He will never be subjected to the conditions of this imperfect, fallen world.  Instead, his body is now perfect, and he is enjoying eternal fellowship with God.  Because God gave me the gift of my son, my heart and thoughts are now fixed on the eternal, and I have a greater awareness that this world is not my home.  Though I have suffered here and will always miss Jonah, I know that I await an eternity with him in heaven.  What a treasure!