Falling in Love

Time is a funny thing - when we first got Joy's diagnosis, five months seemed like a long time to carry this child I knew I couldn't keep.  Now, a few years later, I started to think that five months was really quite brief and that I was mentally exaggerating this time in my life.  But now it's been over a month since I've posted here, and it feels like a long time...then I realized that I started writing here on Joy's diagnosis day, so I was pregnant during all these days that have passed since I've started the blog.  I guess when you're living life day by day, five months really does last awhile!

So anyway, as soon as we made the decision to carry Joy, I knew this would be a difficult and unique experience for me.  Maybe that's an understatement? What I mean is that I had been in other challenging and uncomfortable situations with foreign travel or life decisions, but most of these were places that I had put myself, so I at least felt the illusion of control.  But in carrying Joy, there was no such illusion! 

During these months, I had so many prayer requests.  I did pray for myself and for Joy, but there were many times when I just didn't have the words.  I was (and am) so grateful for those around the country whom I knew were interceding on our behalf.   Though we would have loved nothing more, throughout this time, we had a sense that God's will was not to heal Joy.  I believe that one must be careful in saying we know God's will, and I don't believe that He couldn't heal her, but just that He would not in this situation.  That might sounds kind of harsh, but as we prayed and others prayed for us, God was beyond faithful to us and we saw Him in ways we never could have imagined. (You'll have to keep reading to hear more on that...)

When I first got Joy's diagnosis, I thought I would just wait out these five months as my duty to God and my daughter and then be happy when they were over. But as time passed and Joy's birth grew closer, that changed. Like any pregnant mother, I began to get to know my baby and I fell in love with her.  Joy was a mover and a shaker - she was always kicking and moving and letting her presence be known.  It's as if she was saying "I'm not going to be here for long, but I'm going to make the most of the time I do have!".

So as my due date (July 20) approached, though I was more than ready not to be pregnant anymore, I was filled with dread as I knew it most likely meant saying goodbye to my baby.  The last few weeks were a roller coaster.  It is common for mothers who are carrying anencephalic babies not to go into labor on their own (the speculation is that the babies don't produce the hormones to send a mother into labor and their soft heads also don't have the ability to apply pressure to the cervix).  So I wasn't surprised when July 20 came and went with no sign of a baby.  I also wasn't surprised that my blood pressure was up at my weekly check up - my high blood pressure had caused me to be induced a week early with Liam.  So I was mentally prepared for an induction at 41 weeks, but much to my surprise, my blood pressure was back to normal. So we kept waiting...up and down...up and down...

The Maternal Fetal Medicine Doctor I had consulted with was prepared to let me go to 43 weeks before inducing labor, but as I approached 42 weeks, the midwives and I decided that it would be best for me, mentally and physically, to have an induction at 42 weeks.  I think the waiting game at the end of pregnancy is always stressful, but this had an extra element of stress. I felt like a ticking time bomb!   Although part of me was not ready for to set an end date, (can you ever really be ready for an event like that?) I had a sense of relief and peace, and knew it was time to get ready to meet our daughter...