I am not a word scholar, therefore I truly love my pocket-size thesaurus. I learned a new word three years ago that changed my life, “fetal demise.”
We had joked after my second healthy pregnancy and delivery that I could “pop out” beautiful strong babies. I was a baby machine!
God had a different road for me to walk during my third pregnancy.
After the “first trimester scare” when a majority of women miscarry, I assumed our third pregnancy would be routine. I was scheduled for a routine 16-week check up when my life would change. Without experiencing any physical problems I was told (and shown) my baby’s heart had stopped beating. An ultrasound I will never be able to forget.
That day and every one since has been anything but “routine”.
I had no idea that my 17-week-old baby’s heart had stopped. I had no idea I would have to be induced and experience a 24 hour delivery. I had no idea I was now a “1 in 4″ statistic. I had no idea our baby was our first daughter.
Due to some physical complications after delivery, my recovery was long and difficult. I had to lean on His Word more than any other time in my spiritual walk. More than happy phrases in a history book, His Word comforted me when no one else could possibly say the right thing. Not even my husband’s hugs and silence could fix the hurt.
His Word brought healing and hope to a devastated mama’s heart.
Never once did I question God’s love for me or my daughter. If anything, God was able to use our trust and faith in Him as an example to another mom experiencing a miscarriage, and two unbelieving friends.
Before my routine appointment, I was not an eternal thinker. I was not heaven-hopeful. I took health for granted. I wish I didn’t have to learn it this way, but I will not easily forget.
God changed my thinking and my daughter gave me the gift of true gratitude.