the ponderings of a mother

These are the ponderings of a mother in love with her children, both in my arms and in the grave. Some of these ponderings are quite emotional, some are funny, others contemplative and spiritual. All are sincere. May these writings bless you in many ways and bring you closer to the one, true God and Redeemer of all things.

Monday, January 17, 2011

More Than Contents

Lying in the ultrasound room for the second day in a row we were told, with increasing clarity, the reality of our son’s abnormalities concerning his body. These descriptions, though un-edited in explanation, rested in my heart with the gentleness of a holding a newborn life. I wept, yet loved him unspeakably. The words of the doctor seemed to be in such contrast to our son’s beating heart, which I could see, and to his flailing arm and kicking legs. He was alive and enjoying his time in his temporary home, using fully the body he was given to bear.
Abruptly, the conversation seemed to move into the choice we had to make. Would we terminate this life or carry him? If we terminate, which of the ways would we choose: D&E or induce labor?
I asked for an explanation of each option. Given a theoretical or philosophical discussion about such issues just one day before, I would have easily given a very simply, black and white answer. However, faced with all the fears myself, and within my own body, everything turned grey in a hurry.
To carry him would mean to continue the pregnancy until he passes or I go into labor. There are many unknowns with this, but not many more risks than with any “normal” pregnancy. To terminate would be in one of two ways. I would drink a concoction which would spur on labor and deliver him as any other baby, though not alive. The other way was a D&E, to dilate and evacuate. To be exact: they would “evacuate the contents” of my uterus. The words sounded like attempting to dress a tornado in a little girl’s Easter dress…one very unfitting for the other. I also noted the hole in the wall over to the side of the room labeled “vacuum”. This was not for central vac.
That evening Jeff and I made our decision: we would carry this heartbeat, these kicking legs, this flailing arm, this forming soul, as long as God and he decided his life on earth would be. And we would celebrate his life every single day we had.
I realize now that I believe strongly in the freedom to choose, and I will honor Jonan’s choice.

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