For 14 weeks I was given the immense joy and pleasure of carrying a new life even while God Himself was busy knitting the new creation together. God chose me, and me alone, to hold this baby. I am so grateful that I was given this time with my creator and the baby that He gave me for such a short time.
Sunday I began spotting and Monday we went to the hospital. We were given an ultrasound after many hours of waiting. She moved the wand around and poked a lot of buttons but never said a word. Finally I asked if she had seen the baby, if there was a heart beat. She said that she wasn't able to tell me, that if she did she could have lost her job. I tried my hardest to hold it together but the tears came anyway.
She then turned the sound on and I thought I heard the baby's heartbeat so I was overjoyed. I saw the screen just a bit and was able to see the beautiful profile of a tiny little face. However, there were no little fists swishing by that tiny profile. I saw where the fluttering of a little heart should have been, yet there was only stillness.
I was hoping beyond hope that what I thought I saw and what I really saw were not the same. I kept thinking back to the swooshing heartbeat I heard and just waited for the doctor to come in with good news.
When she came in, there was no good news to be heard. The heartbeat I heard was my own. The tiny baby's heart had stopped beating at least a week ago.
I knew that this little one was already at the feet of Jesus and with our little Anna, yet I still held him within. I begged for her not to do a d&c. I know that it may sound bizarre and even a little morbid, but I longed to hold him within as long as God would allow.
My Tommy's parents allowed us use of their beach house as a retreat to lose our baby in privacy. After many hard hours he came this morning. I've never forgotten how beckoning Anna's tiny hands were. Benjamin's were just the same. So tiny, yet they looked like they were just waiting to curl around my finger even though they will never be given the chance. So tiny. So tiny, but so real.
My Tommy and I are so blessed to watch our living children grow and play, yet each new achievement, each new experience brings grief knowing we will never experience those new things with our tiny Benjamin. We'll never get to hear him cry, nor will we get to comfort that cry away.
Tomorrow we will bury him at sunset and we would covet your prayers.