They say time heals all wounds, but how much time does it take to start to feel some relief?

Lately my mind has been clouded with the thoughts of the should-have-been’s.  Last week Friday I was scheduled for my 20 week ultra sound and should have been only just discovering that our beautiful baby inside of me was a boy.  This weekend I should have been excitedly prepping our nursery for our bundle of joy, but instead I buried myself in my work.  Each morning and night I’m reminded that there should have been a growing baby bump, but instead there is just the left over weight gain from all the shots, medications, patches and pregnancy weight gain.  I should have been writing a happy blog, sharing ultra sound photos and updates on our boy, but instead I’m writing this.

Time has not yet healed this wound, but it’s slowly scabbing over.  My days go quickly but the memory of Isaiah is never far from my mind, and when my world slows down, the pain creeps in again.  I know it’s good for me to feel this pain, that I must in order to properly grieve and move forward.  Honestly sometimes I cling to it, I feel closest to Isaiah when my heart is heavy with this grief.

Even though sometimes it feels impossible, Eric and I are still looking to the future.  We met with our Reproductive Endocrinologist again about a week and half ago.  She took lots of time with us, reviewed pathology and genetic results, and talked over our options moving forward.  She was kind, compassionate, and honest with us that she unfortunately had no answers.  She was as dumbfounded and shocked as us as to what has happened and tried her best to offer encouragement.

We reviewed that pathology found nothing wrong with Isaiah’s cord.  There was no kink, there was no break.  After discovering that there was nothing with the genetics, I had hoped and prayed we would find the issue lied with the cord, that this would provide us an answer and some type of peace.  Instead, we have to accept that we will never know the reason for our Isaiah’s passing.  Ultimately, the reasoning doesn’t matter, not really.  What hurts more than not knowing the “why” is accepting that he’ll never be in our arms, he’ll never play with his brother, he’ll never hug us goodnight.  Instead we must constantly remind ourselves that he is in a better place and that God has reasoning in this  that is bigger than we can see right now.

Eric and I would covet your continued prayers as we walk through this.  We continue to try to keep our eyes forward and are praying that God will grant us another miracle baby in our near future.  Lincoln seems to be doing well, he will randomly mention Isaiah or ask a question about his brother, but his attitude and demeanor seems more like the Lincoln from before.  We all continue to adjust and are still so grateful to all of you.

“I waited patiently for the Lord to help me, and He turned to me and heard my cry.  He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire.  He set my feet on solid ground and steadied me as I walked along.” – Psalms 40:1-2