This is a blog post I have been wanting to write for many weeks. It has been filling my heart and my mind daily. The idea of a miracle has always been there, lurking in the deep places I tend to avoid. Yet somehow it is never far from my mind.
When we first received our news back in February, I began to wrestle with the idea of a miracle. Growing up, and even in the moments before we entered the doctor's office that day, I fully believed in miracles. There was no shadow of doubt in my mind that we have a God who has in the past, and continues today to perform great miracles.
But the moment we heard the words "incompatible with life" I began to question, I began to doubt, and I began to search. It was a three month struggle for me. Even as I tried to push the doubts aside, they only seemed to grow stronger. I questioned why a God who loved me would ever choose to put me through something so awful. I questioned what I had done to deserve this fate. I questioned why it was me that had been chosen to go through this. I questioned why my baby would not even be given a fair chance at living a full and beautiful life. I had so many questions, and was left with no answers.
In the days following I didn't want to hear the words, God has a purpose for you, God has a better plan, or even, you will be able to try again. Those words made me even more angry. I didn't want to hear that God has a better plan, or that God has a purpose, when all I want is my baby. This baby. I just wanted everything to be okay. I didn't want to hear the reasoning or the positive outlook. Because the reality is that there was not anything positive about what we were going through.
And so my journey of searching,and praying, and reading began. Each morning I would wake up with the thought of a miracle in my mind. But I stopped those thoughts immediately. Why should I ever let myself get my hopes up, when I know I will just be crushed in the end. After all, I had allowed myself to get my hopes up that we would be blessed with a happy and healthy baby, and look where that got me. I just could not allow myself to believe in a miracle, it hurt way too much.
But yet I continued to search. The years that I had believed in a God who performs miracles would not allow me to just forget. But through the entire journey I have found it so extremely difficult to believe that a miracle could take place. We have been given no hope medically for our baby. All my research has led me to the realization that there are no survivors of the Limb Body Wall Complex. Our doctor told us that there is only a 50% chance that our baby will even survive inside the womb. There is a 0% chance of our baby surviving in the outside world. How do you believe in a miracle when the odds are completely against us?
Somehow, through all my doubts, I never wavered in my belief that God could perform a miracle on our baby. I just never allowed myself to get my hopes up. It hurt too much. We had our first doctor appointment scheduled for exactly one month following the terminal diagnosis. The night before, Josh and I had prayed with all our hearts for a miracle to be found. We asked for an ultrasound, just to see if there was any change. I allowed myself to hope. I allowed myself to believe. I wanted it so badly. I wanted to hear the doctor say that they were wrong. I wanted the doctor to be speechless at what we saw. I wanted everything we had gone through during that awful month to be gone. I wanted my baby to be whole. But when that blurred black and white image appeared on the screen we knew immediately. Our baby was still broken.
But as we walked out of the doctor's office that day I felt such peace. No longer did I feel angry at the condition of my baby, I just felt love. My baby was still my baby. Nothing would take that away from me, not even an awful, terrible, horrible terminal diagnosis. So in that moment I began to see miracles in a new light. I began to see my baby as the true miracle. The fact that my baby has life is a miracle. The fact that my baby has a heartbeat is a miracle. The fact that Josh and I can grow closer to each other and to our baby is a miracle. I have been surrounded by tiny miracles right from the beginning. I just needed to open my eyes and be aware.
I have slowly began to realize the truth about a miracle in our situation. I honestly feel like God has made it clear to me. I will continue to pray for a miracle, knowing that despite the worst of odds, God can do amazing things. If he chooses to restore my baby to wholeness it will be a great and beautiful miracle, and I will rejoice greatly. But I also believe that God can perform a miracle of a different sort. It may not be the way that I would ever hope for as a mother. But He may perform the miracle in heaven. The true miracle may be bringing my baby into the loving arms of Jesus. In heaven my baby will experience no pain, no brokeness, and no sadness. Either way, I believe that God already has, and will also in the future bring a miracle into our lives. That miracle may provide us with a happy and healthy baby here on earth, or it may be a happy and healthy baby in heaven.
Each day I begin my prayer by asking my Heavenly Father to perform a miracle on my baby, but I also pray for His will to be done. It is hard to trust and leave it all in his hands. But through my struggle in the past months I have come to the realization that the only way to continue on is to trust. I know that I serve a God who is holding us in his mighty hands. He will perform a miracle on my baby. I will continue to pray for a miracle.
"You are the God who performs miracles; you display your power among the peoples."