Some time ago at our Naomi's Circle pregnancy loss support group, we had a group of student nurses visiting as part of a class assignment. At one point I asked them for questions, and one question stood out to me: "If you had known in advance that your pregnancy would end the way it did, would you still have gone through with it? Would you still have wanted to be pregnant in the first place?"
Wow, that is a profound and difficult question. Although it is hypothetical, since none of us could know before we conceived how brief our babies' lives would be, at the core is the question, is it worth it? It is a question we would not think of asking someone whose spouse or other loved one has died, because of course they left behind a lifetime of memories, so of course their life was worth living even if death came too soon or in an ugly fashion. But our babies lived such a brief time, and some of them only in the womb, not in the outside world. Is there any benefit from a brief life that outweighs the heartache of saying good-bye? Is it really true that it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?
Wow, that is a profound and difficult question. Although it is hypothetical, since none of us could know before we conceived how brief our babies' lives would be, at the core is the question, is it worth it? It is a question we would not think of asking someone whose spouse or other loved one has died, because of course they left behind a lifetime of memories, so of course their life was worth living even if death came too soon or in an ugly fashion. But our babies lived such a brief time, and some of them only in the womb, not in the outside world. Is there any benefit from a brief life that outweighs the heartache of saying good-bye? Is it really true that it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?
The answer that night from our members, without exception, was yes. Yes, each one of us would still want to have those days, those weeks, those months with our babies. No, we would not have sacrificed that time with them, even to save ourselves the pain of losing them. We loved them, we explained. And loving them changed us as much as losing them did. We have wonderful memories from them - finding out we were pregnant, telling our spouses, seeing them on ultrasound, thinking about their futures. And though those dreams were left unfulfilled, we have discovered an amazing, strong community of other parents on the same journey, and begun lifelong friendships in the process. And we have experienced the sustaining power of God in a new and deeper way.
Do we still wish we could have saved them, and that the end had been different, and that we could have kept them with us on earth? Of course. That is the strange paradox of pregnancy loss. I will always wonder how life would have been different if one or more of my babies in Heaven had been a take-home-keep-for-a-lifetime baby. But that does not prevent me from seeing how much richer my life is because they lived, no matter how briefly. Because yes, they lived. After all, a baby can't die if he or she has never lived. They lived within me for two weeks, or two months, or four months. And their lives changed mine, profoundly, and left me with memories that make me smile. And to, hypothetically, give up those memories and those changes to my character and my outlook on life, all to avoid the pain of the good-bye, is not something I would choose.
Do we still wish we could have saved them, and that the end had been different, and that we could have kept them with us on earth? Of course. That is the strange paradox of pregnancy loss. I will always wonder how life would have been different if one or more of my babies in Heaven had been a take-home-keep-for-a-lifetime baby. But that does not prevent me from seeing how much richer my life is because they lived, no matter how briefly. Because yes, they lived. After all, a baby can't die if he or she has never lived. They lived within me for two weeks, or two months, or four months. And their lives changed mine, profoundly, and left me with memories that make me smile. And to, hypothetically, give up those memories and those changes to my character and my outlook on life, all to avoid the pain of the good-bye, is not something I would choose.
I am so very thankful for the lives of my children in Heaven, for the memories I have of Naomi, Kyria, Jordan, Hope, and Christmas. I am thankful for the amazing community of parents I have met online and in real life. I am thankful for my husband and his strong faith as he led us through the times of saying good-bye. I am thankful for the health care providers who helped carry us through our darkest days and for the spiritual leaders who did the same, and for family members in both our grief and, as we healed, in our joy. And I am thankful for the promise of eternal life in Jesus, and the hope of Heaven, where my children live and where I will see them again.
RSS Feed
