June 6, 2011 (Day 18) Ok, God I think I am angry now

I haven’t been able to write for a few days. Between Ava’s birthday festivities, trying to get away as a family, and coming in the reality of all new emotions, I have had writers block. The best way to describe it is that I think I am finally angry and it’s blocking my ability to be vulnerable and emotional. Up until now God has been so gracious to protect me from feeling angry or questioning why. The very second we found out I just accepted it and with a great amount of pain and tears moved forward each day. As reality is beginning to set in, I am realizing that I am angry, so deeply angry. Not at God, but at our circumstances. 

It began on Thursday with a horrible doctors visit. Our doctor doesn’t value life the way that we do and he has basically given up hope that our little baby will ever make it. During our meeting he used phrases such as “an inconvenience” “is it worth it?” and my favorite “odds are not likely”. It felt like a slap in the face to wake up every day carrying a baby that means everything to me and then have your only source of medical hope basically tell you to give up, but still make plans “just in case.” 

On Friday our ever non compassionate doctor called and left a message on my cell phone updating us on a change in the diagnosis. Our diagnosis went from slim to none. After consulting with a cardiologist he was calling to tell me that (direct quote) “they are both in agreement that I am at a high risk of losing my baby during the pregnancy over the course of the next several weeks.”

Bam. It was Ava’s birthday and there I was making frosting with her for her princess cake listening to the message and I felt like my heart fell out of my body. A message, that’s it. A matter of fact statement that our medical team has given the baby inside of me a death sentence and there isn’t a single thing I could do about it. I put my phone down and I looked at Ava smiling over her pink frosting and all I could do was smile back at her. I wanted to curl up and weep, but it was her special birthday, the one she had been talking about for weeks. 

We took Ava to Sea World on Saturday trying to give her a fun break from all the craziness at our house. We stayed overnight at a hotel so that we could go back for another day on Sunday. As all three of us snuggled up in a king size bed, I felt them fall asleep. As is normal, I laid awake looking into the darkness with my body exhausted, but my brain never shutting down. This is usually the time that I feel Jackson move the most. I lay there and no movements, nothing at all for hours. I began to cry as I thought, “Please not tonight, please don’t take him tonight.” Then, there it was, a small jab in my ribs followed by another kick to the side. I drifted to sleep my eyes still wet from my deepest fear. 

It’s Monday today. We’re back at home and the overwhelming amount of stress is weighing down on me. As I continue to unpack our house, I feel emotionally worn out. Every day trying to plan our next steps and every evening trying to make sure he is still alive. How much longer can we do this Lord? How much more pain can we feel? God, I’m angry. I’m angry that we aren’t getting the medical care we need and I am angry that in order to find that care means moving away and separating my family during this excruciating season. Why? 

Help me to draw near Lord. I don’t want to pull away, I don’t want to question. I want to stand in your presence and find strength. God, give me hope even if no doctor can. Give me understanding even though I am so confused with the terminology. Help me to continue walking with you minute by minute even in the my darkest days.