~~~ Flashback Post ~~~
The Second Confirmation (March 23, 2015)
Well, after two weeks and one day, the phone call with our amnio test results finally came. After being attached to my phone that entire time, I still somehow managed to miss the call while I driving Friday afternoon. I listened to the voice mail and was a little surprised to hear the test results just in a quick message. But it wasn’t anything new, just the confirmation of Trisomy 18 that we had originally gotten on our blood test. I did call our genetic counselor back, leaving her a return message, and later did have a person-to-person conversation with her.
I was actually relieved to get the second confirmation. Not that we expected it to come back different, but there was a tiny part of me that wondered if it just might, that tiny little hope in an extended second miracle. But when I heard the confirmation I was actually relieved. Nothing new to process, nothing new to consider, just a full confirmation to indeed continue on in the journey we’re already well embarked on.
We also found out it was not genetic or hereditary. “If” we were to get pregnant again (which for some reason always makes me laugh), we would probably not need to worry about re-occurrence. (However at my age, we would have a whole different myriad of things to worry about including Trisomy 21 [down syndrome] IF in fact this “miracle” were to in fact happen again.) I’m quite certain that while from a "genetic" standpoint I may not be rushing in to get my tubes tied, from a “we can’t survive doing this twice” standpoint ~ it still might be highly considered, which is both sad and crazy to even be thinking about after the lifetime I've spent in fertility treatments.
I hung up with no tears. But about a half an hour later, with thoughts of funeral home appointments, headstones, and tiny pink caskets, I found the tears quickly starting to fall down my cheeks again.
I sent an email update to our current prayer warriors. The email list is still quite small. And I can’t help but starting to think more and more about the upcoming “going public” date. Next weekend. After another long day of specialty clinic and funeral home appointments we have scheduled next week, the time will have come.
Phew. A whole new chapter to the journey, one I’m not quite sure I’m ready for, or ever will be ready for. How do you gracefully deal with and tell the general public ~ those close to you, and those who are complete strangers, that at the age of 40 I am pregnant and we don't need congratulations because Jesus has already claimed this child as His and will be whisking her off to Heaven before we will be able to raise her at home? How do you guard your heart as you share the facts, while having compassion for those receiving the news? A hardness within to keep myself together, delicately laced with a compassion and tenderness to soften the blow for those outside….
Why in the world did God choose me, choose us, to walk this road… live this tale, share this journey? I do not want this responsibility and I do not want this reality.
I had this great conversation a few days ago with our pastor’s wife, a wonderful and amazing women whom I love. We talked in a whispered voice in church lobby during the start of our second service, her husband up front welcoming and captivating the crowd with the Good news.
We laughed and talked about fun stuff, about antiquing and thrift store shopping, and then she asked how I was doing, how I was really doing… And I was able to talk, to share, to be honest and real for just a few moments. I told her it was hard having hardly anyone know, but I knew it was going to be a whole different kind of hard once people start finding out. I told her there are good days, days when I don’t hardly cry, and there are days, and unexpected moments in each day when I’m overtaken by sadness, grief, and emotions and how I felt it was so hard trying to not completely fall apart all the time.
She looked at me a little oddly, and compassionately with teary eyes, and she asked why in the world I thought I felt I couldn’t fall apart? I told her that our youngest doesn’t know, that we have a teenager in the house I’m trying to protect from watching me hurt on an extreme level. I’ve watched my husband cry and fall apart so many times and feel I needed to be strong for him, to not fall apart on him, to not let him see me falling apart, to not make him worry more about how to deal with me or be annoyed by me with all my tears and emotions. I talked about how I knew people are going to be watching me go through this. Watching how I handle myself, handle the grief, handle the situation, how I handle all of it. While I’m not famous by any means, I do realize that through both my cake business, and my church staff position, I am a person of high visibility and perceived strength. Knowing people are going to follow our journey, watching me, maybe even judging me, and knowing that I want my faith to always be evident, it makes me fearful of walking through this all, through the watchful eyes of the public.
She gave me such a wonderful answer by encouraging me to not worry about what others thought, that I was absolutely allowed to be sad, to grieve, to be emotional, to be real, to be vulnerable, and to not have it all together.
It's ok to not be ok.
And I was again reminded of my life’s motto… to live life fully, with intentionality and authenticity. It’s that trait about me that have left people loving me, or feeling far too uncomfortable around me and hating me. {insert smiley face emoji}
Yes, this season of living authentically will not be easy, I will need to be public, and share, and be seen. I will need to let others in, while knowing when to keep them out. I will need to be true to the work and weavings I clearly see God doing through this journey, while being honest in the doubts, fears, and anger I also experience through it all. I have to trust that through the good and the bad, through the happy and the sad, that how I live ~ what I do, what I don’t do, what I say, what I don’t say, will in fact carry me from today to tomorrow and on to the day after that and beyond, in a true spirit of myself, my family, and my faith.
I've found that when I'm overcome by those moments of tears and emotions, I just allow it. I'm allowed to be sad, it's ok ~ this situation sucks, and I dare you to find one person who will disagree with me. I cry, I sob, I let it out. And then I take a deep breath, wipe my eyes, reapply my mascara, stand back up, and try look for the sunshine again...
One day at a time, one moment at a time, one hour at a time.
{ Click HERE for our next journal entry "The Start To Our Goodbyes" }
{ Click HERE for our previous journal entry "Can't Find The Words" }
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