God is Good & Worthy of Praise

*This story contains sensitive content including death of a child*

“Are you there, God? It’s me…again.

I know I’ve asked you a million times already, but I wanted to ask one more time. Just in case you decided to change your mind.

I’m helpless. Nothing can save him. Doctors can’t save him; money can’t save him; love can’t save him. God, you’re my only hope.”

May 8^th, 2019

    Cloud nine was an understatement! It was the day my husband and I found the perfect house for our growing family; I couldn’t wait to see it in real life! It was also the day we would find out if we were having a second boy or inviting a baby girl into our family.

    We met the realtor at 3:00, fell in love with the house, and then headed straight to get a 3D/4D ultrasound to find out the gender of our baby. Our family was finally complete.

    A few months ago, we didn’t think this feeling was possible. After trying for three years to get pregnant the first time, three months came as quite a shock this time. When we found out, we just knew it was a “God” thing. We were lying in bed talking about how perfect everything was falling into place. Even the house was perfect. When we got married in 2013, we drew our dream house, and this one was almost identical to what we drew. Three bedrooms, three bathrooms, a pool, a big backyard that our kids could play in…absolute perfection.

    We walked into the darkened room where the ultrasound would take place, and I laid down on the bed. We were both hoping for a little girl, but, low and behold, it was another boy!

    And that’s where things took a turn for the worst.

    I can’t explain the feeling that came over me when the ultrasound technician got really quiet. The happiest moment of our lives, and she wasn’t sharing in our celebration. She asked me to roll over one way, then the other. She pushed the transducer further down, and moved it rapidly while taking a ton of pictures. My husband was too distracted by the fact that we weren’t having a little girl to even realize what was happening. I felt a shift in her attitude, but didn’t say anything. When she finally spoke, my heart fell to floor.

    “When is your next doctor’s appointment?” she asked.

    “Umm, next week. Why?” I replied.

    “I think you need to go in tomorrow.”

    More silence. More probing.

    My husband finally broke the silence. “What’s going on?”

    “….I don’t really know for sure, but it appears there isn’t any brain anatomy.”

    “What does that mean?” I asked.

    “Well, by this point in the pregnancy we should be able to see a defined line that makes the head look round.”

    She was showing us what she meant on the monitor, but she may as well have been speaking a different language.

    “But I don’t see anything.”

    From that point on, I don’t think I spoke the rest of the night.

    I laid in bed that night and just stared. The lady reminded us over and over again that she wasn’t an expert and she could be wrong, but it seemed unlikely. She answered my husband’s questions, and gave us plenty of pictures to bring with us to the doctor, and every one of those pictures seemed to confirm my biggest fears. This was the worst day of my life…so far.

May 9^th, 2019

    You know how you watch things on TV or read about them in books, but it doesn’t seem like those things actually exist in real life? I remember when I was in high school and I read this book about a lady that had a baby with anencephaly. I remember thinking that wasn’t a real thing, and was just something made up for a book. I mean…how can you be born without a head? That doesn’t even make sense. Is it just…like…not there?

    By 2:00 on the afternoon of May 9^th, I had already seen two doctors, driven an hour a half to see a specialist, and was now sitting in another darkened room listening to my options.

    “You don’t have to decide now, but it’s 100% anencephaly. The front part of the baby’s head didn’t develop. Because there isn’t a skull formation, the amniotic fluid doesn’t give the brain a chance to develop.”

    I just stared at the doctor. I think she sensed my shock, so she just kept talking.

    “Your options are simple. We can terminate pregnancy now or you can continue with it. The rest of baby will keep growing and he will either die in the womb or die shortly after birth. You don’t have to make this decision now, but we will support you in whatever you decide.” My husband asked “has there ever been one child that has survived?” she replied “I have heard of one case where the baby lived 7 months, not sure of the outcome, but almost none make it to birth, and even then they only survive minutes to a few hours.”

    The last 24 hours just seemed like one never-ending nightmare. When we left the facility, my husband was talking about going through with the pregnancy as if my mind was already made up.

    “Maybe God will work a miracle.” he said over and over. “He’s done it before, I’m sure He can do it again.”  

    “That’s not really how things work anymore. You heard her, this probably happened before we even knew I was pregnant. His head is done forming. It’s not just going to start back up again. That part is over.”

    “Well, we’ll just have to see what happens.”

    “Why are acting like I’m going to go through with this? How can I sit here and feel him kick me, feel him when he has the hiccups, feel him grow inside of me, knowing what I know?”

    After that, he was pretty quiet for a while.

    “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t consider any of those things. You’re absolutely right. I’m not the one that has to go through what you’re going through, and it’s not my decision. I will support you with whatever decision you make.”

    That night I was lying in bed, and my phone was buzzing off the hook. I still hadn’t told anyone what was going on, but plenty of people knew we were finding out the gender of our baby. People were excited to share in our joy, but we were still relishing in our grief. At one point, I even started yelling and throwing a temper tantrum like a two-year-old. Literally. With the legs kicking, arms flailing, and everything. One of the text messages was from my dad. He knew the situation and he was trying to send me something encouraging. Philippians 4:6-7 says “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” That was dumb. I didn’t have peace right now. I just found out my son was going to die. How can I have I have peace? This was the worst day of my life…so far.

May 10^th, 2019

    It was the day before our anniversary, and we had booked a cruise for the weekend. At this point, we figured we might as well get away for a few days to try and clear our heads so we decided to go. I woke up at 5:00 am and talked to my husband as he was getting ready to go to the gym. I told him I still hadn’t made a decision, and it wasn’t something that I could make by myself; I needed his help. On one hand, I felt like it was hopeless and I might as well end it so we can try again. On the other hand, I felt like I would be denying God’s ability to perform a miracle, and giving up on my own child.

    Before he left, my husband asked me to listen to a song. The song was “What It Means to Be Loved” by Mark Schultz. In this song, there is a couple that is told their child will not survive. The doctor asks the mom what she wants to do, and she says “I want to give her the world, I want to hold her hand. I want to be her mom for as long as I can. And I want to live every moment until that day comes, and I want to show her what it means to be loved.”

    When I heard the words “be her mom for as long as I can” I hit the floor. I begged God to forgive me, but I also begged my unborn son to forgive me. From that moment on, I was determined to be his mom for as long as I was allowed to be. I knew he wasn’t in any pain, and would never feel any pain, which made the decision even easier. I could still offer him every chance that I could. I would do my best to make every second of his life perfect.

    From that day forward, I prayed harder than I had ever prayed before. The Bible says to “pray without ceasing.” Yeah, I took that quite literally. I never stopped talking to God. One day, I felt Him talk back. I was reading the story about Abraham and Isaac. God told Abraham that He wanted him to sacrifice his only son to God. Abraham was confused, but he said “okay.” Abraham realized that everything belonged to God anyway, even his child. When I came to this realization, everything became clear. I felt God speak straight to my heart. He told me He wasn’t going to heal my son on this Earth. I knew it was true. My son was going to die and go to Heaven. And I can’t explain it, but I was okay with God’s decision. I didn’t throw anymore tantrums and yell “it’s not fair.” Instead, I just nodded my head and I said “Okay. Your will be done.” The verse my dad sent me came flooding into my brain, and I realized that the peace he was talking about really did transcend our human understanding. I was completely at peace with God’s decision.  

    After that morning, things seemed to go by pretty quickly. I went to regular doctor’s appointments and checked on the baby like he was completely normal. They continued to do ultrasounds to see if there were any changes, but I knew there wouldn’t be. Everything started to look up for me. I didn’t feel as depressed in my everyday life, and I didn’t cry as often. I started a new job that I loved, and my relationship with my husband was better than ever. It seemed that our grief had actually drawn us together. And then one day, totally unexpected, at 33 weeks and 5 days, I had the actual worst day of my life.

August 15^th-16^th, 2019

    I left work a few minutes early so I could make it to my appointment on time. As I walked out, I called behind me “see you tomorrow!” So confident.

    I laid on the table so the doctor could listen for a heartbeat…nothing. To the ultrasound room…nothing. To the hospital…you can probably guess from here on out.

    I called my husband as soon as I left the doctor’s office. “We have to go to the hospital. There’s no heartbeat.” Over the next 24 hours, I had the best care a person could ever ask for. My husband held my hand, my family kept me company, and my nurses even cried with me. When it was almost time to start pushing, my doctor came in to check on me. I started crying because I was scared and didn’t know what to expect. She took my head in her hands and placed her forehead on mine. I will never forget the words she spoke to me…but that’s between me and her.

    On August 16^th, 2019 at exactly 6:00pm, my 3-pound 11-ounce baby boy was born. No, it wasn’t when he went to Heaven, but it was when I was able to hold the little life that changed my entire life. I looked down at my sweet Tobias Anthony, and all I saw was the impact he would be able to have on others. His name means “God is Good” and “Worthy of Praise.” Despite all that he endured in his life he has continued to shine a light in our hearts. Since this day, he has inspired us in so many ways, and we have been able to share his story to encourage others. I am forever proud of my son, and I know that one day, when I finally cross over to the other side, he will be waiting for me with a big smile on his face. Complete. Whole. Perfect.