Friday, April 2, 2010

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR ANGEL IN HEAVEN – Our First Miracle

Children are a gift from the Lord; they are a reward from him.
Children born to a young man are like sharp arrows in a warrior’s hand
Psalm 127: 3 & 4


"HOPE MAKES ALL THE DIFFERENCE"
Today we pause to say a very HAPPY BIRTHDAY, to our first little miracle, Sara-Marie Abigail Price, who was born sleeping on April 2, 2006, (four years ago).

For all those who do not know the story of our first little miracle, I crave your indulgence.

After more than a decade long of struggling with infertility, we learned that we were expecting in September, 2005. We were so ecstatic, my husband and I hugged each other and dance around the room.

As the pregnancy progressed, I found that I just could not embrace and enjoy it, as I had dreamt of doing for so long. Each month we visited our doctor, despite the very good reports, I just could not shake the feeling that something would go wrong. I sometimes dismissed this feeling though, thinking it was only jitters from having waited so long and as a result of previous miscarriages, only to have it return shortly afterwards

In the seventh month of our pregnancy, the day after a lovely baby shower was thrown for me, we visited our doctor, for what we believed would be another routine visit with a good report. My doctor, who is very jovial and funny, began the examination, making us laugh as usual. Before long into the examination, we realized that he got very quiet and was looking at the screen of his examination machine, quite intently. He even took a seat on the examination table beside me – something he never did in any of our previous visits. This was when I knew that the feelings of uneasiness I had since the pregnancy was about to confirm that something was indeed wrong I remember my husband asking him if there was a problem and he said, yes. The room suddenly went black, I blacked out, even though I was lying down (I have never heard of this).

I came around shortly after and he asked us to join him at his desk, where he proceeded to write us a referral to a fetal specialist, to see exactly what was happening with our baby. I remember glancing on the referral and saw the term hydrops fetalis, in the space for diagnosis and he then proceeded to explain to us what this was. I really was not listening as I was still trying to come to terms with all that was taking place.

We went to see the fetal specialist and when he began the examination, I saw him turned the screen away from me and said, he did not want me to see the images. By this time though, I was ready to accept my fate, so it probably would not have made any difference if I had seen the images.

We collected the results a few days afterwards and it was confirmed that our baby had been diagnosed with hydrops fetalis, ( a severe, life-threatening problem of severe edema (swelling) in the fetus and newborn and occurs when too much fluid leaves the bloodstream and goes into the tissues). Babies diagnosed with this condition, usually have a low chance of survival.

Our doctor tried to give us hope by assuring us that he was focused on the 30% chance of survival and he challenged us to do the same too.

We waited almost a month for further testing to be done, to see if they could find the exact cause of this condition and all this time, I prayed to God earnestly and others prayed as well and I believed deeply, that things would somehow turn around for us. It was with that faith that I got up out of bed one day, and started preparing the nursery. I felt I had to do this because, if things turned around, I wanted to be ready. This was undoubtedly one of the longest, hardest month ever. The tests all came back negative and I was feeling even more optimistic.

Our doctor referred us to our University Hospital for management from then on of our pregnancy, in hopes of getting treatment for our baby intrauterine.

Sadly, while a doctor was doing my examination, he realized that there was no heartbeat. Our baby had left us without us knowing.

I was admitted the next day (being Saturday), to give birth, and in the wee hours of Sunday morning, April 2, 2006, our little miracle was born sleeping, weighing just over 2 pounds. She fought a good fight, but the battle was not hers to win. I remember I had decided that I would not look at her after she was born, because I did not want to have that image embedded in my mind, as I believed it would have made it harder for me. I however found myself actually trying to look at her, but my husband objected, I guess because he too thought it would have been too painful for me. He saw her though and it was indeed very difficult for him.

The days following this, were some of the darkest days of my life. I never cried so much in my life, and it all began the day after I gave birth and continued right through that night and into the days ahead. I was so angry with God that I refused to even talk to him, I wanted to ask him why, but I just could not. I could not even pray.

I remember being on my way home from the hospital, and found myself scanning my medicine cabinet at home, to have a mental picture of all the pills I had in there that I could take, to put a quick end to this overwhelming grief that I was in, because it was just too much for me. God stepped in though and had me tell my husband that I did not want to be alone at home in the days ahead. I told him this, after feeling very afraid that I was actually thinking suicide, and so the next day and for the rest of that week, I went to my sister’s to stay with her housekeeper, who herself, had had experience with grief, having lost her husband, and my sister thought she could help me through my grief as well.

I made it through those difficult days, largely due to the kind support of my family, especially my eldest sister and my Church family and friends. A very good friend lent me the book, When God Doesn't Make Sense By. Dr. James Dobson, and this really helped me put things into perspective. In essence, what this book is saying is that - life is about change and we are never targeted for bad things to happen to us, this is just all a part of life, and the sooner we understand this, the sooner we are able to accept what comes our way, and  trust God to help us heal from our wounds. I strongly recommend this book for anyone dealing with grief.

My Mom says, our daughter was just too beautiful, so God decided to keep her for himself and I truly believe that. My mother-in-law says that our daughter, gave herself as a sacrifice to make way for our second miracle, because my body needed cleansing from all the anxiety, depression and treatment that I had undergone as a result of my struggle with infertility. I strongly believe that too and this makes our little angel all the more special to us.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY GIRL, Your dad, your brother and I can’t wait to meet you in the sweet by and by. Continue resting in the arms of Jesus, where you belong, because you must be tired from the fight you fought to stay with us.

WE WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU.

3 comments:

  1. Thank you for sharing that story. :) I can't even imagine the sadness you must have felt during that time. Happy birthday Sara-Marie!

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  2. Oh Annetta - the pain you have endured. It is so hard. I am struggling. I have moments where I think everything is going to be fine and then i am down in the depths of despair again. I know you understand this all too well. What gives me hope is to see you living your life in happiness and with love. Thank you for your kind words of support and love. xx

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  3. Clare, it is my prayer that the empty space in your heart, will be filled again soon, so that you too can live your life in happiness and with love. What helped me through my difficult period, was that I told myself (and others told me too), that it happened before so it will happen again, and I held on to that, and. lo and behold, it did happen again, I became pregnant, six months after that miscarriage.

    Hold on to hope Clare, You and Mr. T. are such great people and I know God will again bless you.

    Remember, you are in my prayers.

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