A word that changed everything. But lets not get ahead of ourselves…
It's the middle of January; we find out we are pregnant. 3.5 years into marriage, we had just begun trying, and out of nowhere the Lord blesses us with a baby. We go to the doctor to confirm what our test had said that indeed, we are pregnant. Our little baby would be here October 1st. This idea of bringing a new life into the world begins to take shape. I remember sitting with Meagan thinking, “This is going to change everything.” No truer words have ever been thought. The months progress, check up after check up we are told we have a healthy little baby, heart beating 170 BPM. “It’s a girl” many tell us thanks to the high heart rate. It's late March and the count down is on to the gender appointment. “It's too early to tell it now,” our doctor tells us, “by your next appointment we will definitely be able to tell!” Labs are drawn and we are sent home anxiously awaiting the moment we will find out, boy or girl.
Do you ever have those moments when the record player of life comes to a screeching halt?
The phone call comes from Meagan’s Doctor, a test result is slightly elevated. We have a 1 in 48 risk of a Neural Tube Defect she says. I immediately begin Googling what that means and put the computer away, scared of the possiblities. We are told not to worry and that we still have a 1 in 47 chance everything is fine…but that we need to go see a genetic counselor and get a more in depth ultrasound.
24 hours pass, waiting and praying. Our appointment is here. Meagan and I are in the sonogram room waiting on the doctor. The jelly is applied and he begins the test.
…Deep breaths…Silence…Clicking on the computer… Silence…More clicking…For what seems like an eternity…
The doctor apologizes and says he is trying to concentrate and will explain everything very soon. He places the sonogram controller back and slowly turns toward us.
“I do not have good news to tell you” he replies after finishing the test. “I am so sorry to say your baby has three severe birth defects. The first and the most severe is Anencephaly. The skull and brain have not and will not fully form; I hate to tell you this, but this is a fatal defect. This will not be a viable baby.”
“Not viable? Surely this is wrong. We’ve done everything right, how can this be happening?” I think as he continues explaining our baby’s condition. He begins to explain our options: to terminate now and save the heartache and hurt of carrying a baby that will not survive, or to carry the baby and give birth to a little human who won’t make it outside the womb.
Talk about a tidal wave of emotions.
He asks us if we still would like to know the gender and tells us we are having a little boy. We leave the doctor in shock of what we have heard.
Five days later I sit here writing this post. Without a doubt this has been the hardest five days of my life. Meagan and I sit on the edge of tears at most moments. We have continued to find the complete and utter need for family and friends. They have been there, crying with us, and supporting us through every step. Our dependance on Jesus has never been greater. He has carried us through each and every day and will continue to do so; it's the kind of God that He is.
We believe He is a God that heals the brokenness all around us and Asher's story is one he will redeem. In the coming months we will be blogging about his life and all the adventures we can cram in while we have him. I would ask that you would pray for complete healing for Asher, for strength for Meagan and I and for God's Glory to be all over this journey. He cares far more for little Asher than we ever could.
We thank God for His love, we stand in awe of His power.