:: This post is not for the faint of heart ::

I could write a scathing blog post about the insensitivity of the general populace. I could. I did. I won't post it though, because while anger is part of the grieving process it isn't very productive and it really is only a cover for pain. And there is nothing wrong with pain. There is nothing wrong with being sad.

Although, I will say that sometimes people do really mean well. They try their hardest to make the best of every circumstance when sometimes you really don't want to hear it, or you just want someone to sit down with you and say, "man, what's going on is really unfortunate." Sometimes just the fact that someone said something at all can get me going. It's really unfair to expect people to know how you are feeling at every moment of the day. 

I will say, however, that for me most days are pretty swell. I am pregnant and happy. I have one child and another on the way. Brooklyn is most likely to be a joint-custody child. Heavenly Father will allow us a visit at the beginning, but then she will live with Him. I know this. 

What frustrates me, however, is that when people see me they don't know what is going through my head or my heart. They see a 22 year old girl who is pregnant with a child that has a "concerning diagnosis". And she's smiling. I have seen the look on a doctor's face all too often lately. It's hard to explain unless you've seen it but it's a look of concern overlaid by a look of professional nonchalance. It always comes before they ask, "And your daughter's diagnosis has been explained to you?"

I think in a few months after Brooklyn is born or in a year or so when people begin to forget about the events that took place in my life 'so long ago' people will stop asking me to relive the moment when I knew Brooklyn would have a short life. I assure everyone who is reading this blog, that there is no part of "Trisomy 18" and "Double outlet right ventrical" or even "Not compatible with life" that I don't comprehend. I am smiling because I am making the best out of my own situation. I am the one who is living with a child in my womb, a time-bomb, if I may. I am the one who feels her kicking from within. I am the one who asks people to feel her move. I am the one who thinks about her first thing in the morning and pictures her swaddled in my arms before I go to sleep at night. I am the one who has picked out her headstone, who has consulted with mortuaries, met with doctors and picked out fabric for a burial gown. And in the end I am the one who will give birth to the sweet, darling baby girl in my womb. 

 

There are days when I can't breathe. When Bentley goes to sleep and I just sit at my table and cry. When I think that the day will come when she will be born and things will go terribly wrong and that I will just stand by as my little girl passes through the veil into the spirit world. I lay awake at night wondering if it will be quick or if it will be slow. And my heart aches. The closer I get to delivery the more images flash through my head, small scenes of what may come to pass. And no, it doesn't help when doctors discuss specific complications that result in death in such a nonchalant tone. That's my child they are talking about. And she hasn't passed yet, so let's not talk about her in the past-tense.

And she is a blessing. This whole experience is a blessing. Yes, there are moments when my heart is breaking--but then there are moments when I get to hold my son and enjoy my daughter a little longer and my heart is full of gratitude for the blessings that I have. I don't know that I am handling my situation any better than the next person, but through all of this, the ups and downs and the sadness and the frustrations I know that everything will be okay. 

How?  You really want to know how? Genuinely?

When my heart aches and I just want to cry, I kneel down in a room my myself and I pray unto my God. I pour my heart out to Him. I pour my heart out to His son for he is the only person who can even comprehend my situation. Not only that, Jesus felt every emotion that I am going through and He is perfectly qualified to hold me in his arms and say "Everything will be okay." 

And I feel peace.

It's not always right away. He always lets me get my feelings out of the way and then I feel His peace wrap around me like a blanket and while, sometimes, I may still be sad It's not unbearable anymore. God has always opened up His windows in heaven and showered my family with blessings. I have made promises to Him and He has made promises to me. He will provide for my family spiritually, emotionally, physically. Everything will be okay. And when they aren't okay, He will hold my hand so that they will feel okay until I can figure out what to do next. 

And He has provided so many wonderful resources in our modern day, wonderful resources that women could only wish for 50 years ago. 

There are ultrasounds which allowed me to learn about Brooklyn before she was born--and see her. I get to see her every month!

There is a free grieving counselor through Angel Watch in the Utah Valley and other services like that for women and families going through infant loss.

People make bears for momentos and make plaster molds of your infant's hands and feet.

Funeral homes give you free usage of their buildings and charge minimally for their services.

Professional Photographers volunteer their services through NowILayMeDownToSleep.

There are support groups and kind people who serve and uplift all the time.

We have been truly blessed.

And yes, sometimes I am sad. Sometimes we need to be sad. It helps us keep perspective. But in the end it will all be okay. I have my family forever. And nothing could be more comforting than that. Death is not the end of all things. On the contrary, it is the beginning.

And I look forward to a beautiful beginning with my daughter in the afterlife.