Going to the Places in Life You Never Wanted to Be

On August 22nd this is what I wrote in my thankfulness app called 1000 Gifts:

Exactly three months later, on the morning of November 22nd I wrote this:

I had no idea what was to come.  I had no idea that instead of hearing the words “Congratulations you are having a boy!” I would hear the words “Maria, we are so sorry.  You are having a son and he has no kidneys or bladder or renal arteries.  I’m sorry Maria, your son is not compatible with life.”
Stunned.  Shocked.  Floored.  No words actually do that moment justice.  No words can comprehend what it feels like to look back at those moments of documented thankfulness and crave the naivety and peace I was living with.  I took those pictures as a woman who only knew excitement, wonder, and the occasional inconveniences of pregnancy.  This woman, the woman writing this today, is one who knows suffering, loss, and pain in a way that I never wanted to be familiar with.  But here I am in, living in a place that I never wanted to go.
Today I am 23 weeks pregnant.  My son is on life support in my belly.  He will kick and have a heartbeat until the day God calls him into this world.  When he comes, it won’t be very long after that until his new home will be with Jesus.  Being pregnant has never been harder. Days have never been longer.
I have struggled over time with whether to write, what to write.  If I would ever again be strong enough to write.  Truth be told, I have to.  I have a reached a point in this journey where I feel as though I have to put in words all that has been going on.  I need to give recognition to the fact that life does not always go as planned.  I want to give honor and respect to every person who is or has suffered.  I want to stake my claim on the fact that God is good even though the fatal diagnosis of my son is not.  I want to shout to the hills the power of God’s redemptive love in the middle of this terrible crisis.
This story, God’s story, the story of my son…its not one that I ever wanted to write.  It is not one that I ever wanted to live.  But it is already jammed packed of God’s provision in a time of suffering.  It is already jammed pack with lessons and learnings about life and people.  It has already changed me to the core.  I am five weeks into my “new normal,” and I have a long way to travel on this road that I am on.
My prayer for these postings is not for you to grieve for me or my family or my son.  My prayer is that there might be one person reading this that has suffered loss too.  May we cry together?  May you know that you do not suffer alone.   May we walk this road together and may I know that my son’s life carries purpose and power.  My prayer is that the purpose of why I write, the purpose of this blog, and my passion for sharing my life will carry a new sense of meaning.  One that can only be credited to the fact that God is real and active.  If He wasn’t.  If He wasn’t here…I wouldn’t be standing.