Unfathomable Love in the Midst of Grief

I will never forget the sunny day in May of 2006 when my faith was shaken to the core. I was five months along in my fourth pregnancy and on my way to one of the many pre-natal doctor visits that every pregnant woman must go to. This one was a bit different, as it was my first ultrasound appointment. I was finally going to get to see my baby and find out if we were going to be having a boy or a girl. As I drove to the appointment, my head was filled with planning for the baby and whether or not I would finally get to dress a baby in pink instead of blue. I am always amazed at how quickly life can change, and my life certainly came to a sudden and drastic change that afternoon. Yet, in the midst of the turmoil, my faith in God was strengthened.

The appointment proceeded as they normally would. The ultrasound technician squeezed the cold gel on my abdomen that would allow them to see my baby. As uncomfortable as it was, it didn’t dampen my excitement to finally see my child. The technician pressed the ultrasound wand around on my belly, chatting with me about children and pregnancy. She suddenly became very quiet and rushed out of the room. A cold feeling ran through me, something was wrong. When she returned, I asked the technician if there was a problem and I was told that I would need to speak with the doctor. I left the doctor’s office that day in a state of shock. I was going to have a boy, but my precious unborn son had Potter’s Syndrome, a birth defect incompatible with life.

I was sent to a specialist in Fort Worth, there the diagnosis was confirmed. My son did not have kidneys, he could not survive outside of the womb. I was faced with the terrible choice of terminating the pregnancy or carrying to term. I couldn’t bear the thought of terminating the pregnancy, as a woman of faith, that went against everything I held dear. After much prayer, I decided to carry my son to term. It was not an easy choice, as I knew that everyday, I would grow closer to my son, only to lose him. In my womb, my son could live, even if it was just for a few more months. But, I knew that they would be months that I would cherish for the rest of my life.

My son was stillborn in the early morning hours of September twelfth. He never took a breath in this world, but he changed my life tremendously. As they placed him in my arms, I thought my heart would break, but I also felt the arms of God wrap themselves around me. He was there with me through it all. He carried me when I couldn’t walk on my own and he gave me such complete peace in the midst of turmoil. While I had prayed for a miracle, I understood that God might have reasons that I would never understand for my son to be called home to Him. I was blessed with nine months to love and care for my son while he was in my womb and I was so thankful for the short time I had with him.

His short life had a profound effect on me and served as a catalyst in strengthening my faith in God. God held me in His arms that day, He comforted me, and I knew that my son was safe in His arms in Heaven. I learned on that day, the depths of love that my Father in Heaven has for me. I saw His grace and mercy surround me and give me peace in the midst of grief. My life would never be the same. My faith and love for God grew tenfold in the days following my son’s death. He became really real to me for the first time in my life. He was no longer some cold, distant God somewhere in the heavens, but a Father God who loves His children with an unfathomable love that defies anything else I had ever experienced.


Blessings!
Susan Lee Rose