The Worst Part

I made the mistake last night of looking for Trisomy 13 stories before bed. With our little one due in a little over eight weeks and this being his likely prognosis, I’ve been searching for sunlight in the storm. Needless to say, it didn’t turn out well. Because it’s such a devastating condition, the vast majority of testimonials are about savoring the few hours these parents were able to spend with their children… their entire life in those few hours. That’s the part that rips my heart out – everywhere we go are families. I can’t walk down the street, go for a drive, shop in freaking Lowe’s let alone a grocery store without running into parents who are experiencing life with their children. Ironically, the hardest place for me to go is church. Every part of me believes that His timing is perfect and the plan that matters isn’t the one that I came up with, but I have such a hard time seeing parents – fathers, specifically – entertaining their children and holding them in their arms when I only get to carry mine in my heart. To go through a pregnancy like this is the hardest thing I’ve done; knowing that we will be one of the lucky families if we get to hear our son cry or see him smile… what a world this is. Times like this lead me back to a passage in Jeremiah that helps to keep me grounded.

“For I know the plans I have for you’, says the Lord. ‘They are for good and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.”

Lord, it is all I have in me to keep from breaking. Going day to day is hard, searching for a glimmer of our boy and feeling him move in the womb are so precious because I’m afraid they are the only time I’ll get to spend with him. I pray that you deliver us through this situation, that you use me as a voice for fathers whose hearts are breaking this very moment, and that you hold my baby boy close as he waits to meet his parents again. Amen


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