On the Eve of Valentine’s Day 2008, Bob and I went to one of our bi-weekly Wednesday perinatal echocardiograms to find out how our baby girl Molly was doing. Her cardiologist, Dr. Cuneo, shared with us that our daughter’s heart had begun to fail. She told us that if we wanted to take the aggressive route to try to save her, the time had come.
We were prepared and decided I would start taking the medication Dr. Cuneo prescribed in effort to give Molly a better chance to survive, though we understood how unlikely it was that she would be born alive or live long after her delivery.
Six years later it is surreal to revisit my words from that fateful day in our life. It is bittersweet to read about the glimmers of hope we had after our discussion with Dr. Cuneo that day. I remember how much I struggled to balance the reality of our circumstances, that I was carrying a very sick baby girl, with the hope that we might get to bring Molly home someday.
Abby is now the same age that Sean was back then. In light of that connection, this year I find myself day-dreaming about our life and our children both then and now. Abby’s life as a four-year old preschooler is so similar and yet also very different than what her big brother’s was like in February 2008. Though we tried to maintain as much normalcy as possible, for Sean’s sake, our life was far from routine.
Sean’s early childhood years coincided with our five-year journey through secondary infertility and loss. We wanted so much to have another child and to give our son a sibling. Six years later we feel so blessed and lucky to have Abby in our family, along with special memories of our Molly-girl.
In a few weeks I am helping to lead another CRHP women’s retreat at our parish. I will be giving a witness on reconciliation, in which I share about my experience learning to forgive, ask forgiveness and make peace with my regrets. I’ll talk about how our family building journey, especially losing Molly, changed the way I perceive God’s role in and influence over my life.
I used to believe that everything happens for a reason. Now I think that we can find and/or make some good come from every challenging circumstance we find ourselves in, but that God is not a micromanager.
It’s hard for me to wrap my brain around the idea that six years have come and gone since I was pregnant with Molly. As with so many things in life, in some ways February 2008 seems like yesterday and at the same time feels like it was so very long ago. I feel grateful to have this blog to be able to revisit and reflect on what I was thinking and feeling during such a difficult and uncertain time for my family and me.
Though it can be painful to go there, it also reminds me how strong and resilient we are — bereaved and blessed.
I am able to see how far we have come and to appreciate the good that has grown from our journey through secondary infertility and loss. Our struggles have made us more compassionate, as well as allowed us to use what we have learned to minister to others whose lives have not gone as they hoped, dreamed or planned.
{ 18 comments… read them below or add one }
“I used to believe that everything happens for a reason. Now I think that we can find and/or make some good come from every challenging circumstance we find ourselves in, but that God is not a micromanager.” I love this – that’s how I’d articulate my thoughts too. Blessings to your sweet family marking another bittersweet date.
Thank you! I appreciate you sharing what spoke to you, as well as your kind words and validation.
Kathy recently posted..Certainty
You have come far, and Molly has been with you every step of the way! Beautiful post.
Marianne recently posted..Scared, Cold, and Hungry
Thank you so much, Mar. xoxo
Kathy recently posted..Detour
HugsCom
Thank you, Deb. 🙂
Kathy recently posted..Holding Her
Dont know where the com came from…thinking of you and remembering Molly
Ha, ha… Thanks again, Deb. xoxo
Kathy recently posted..Ripping Off Bandaids
Sending you love.
Thank you, Tracey.
Kathy recently posted..The Prayer
Love that you share about your journey. Know that it helps others, even these years later. Hugs to you, momma!
xoxoxo
Thank you so much, Samantha. Your kind words, validation and hugs mean a lot to me! xoxo
Kathy recently posted..Withdrawal
You know, in all the time I’ve been reading your blog, I never read the archives? Wow. What a tough set of decisions and options you had to weigh. I admire your balance of realism & optimism. It is surreal, sometimes, to look back and wish you could tell your old self how it would all turn out.
Deborah recently posted..A Very Strange Day
What do you mean you have never read my archives?! 😉 But seriously, it was tough and we made the best decisions we could with the information we had at the time. That’s all any of us can do…
It is interesting to think about what we would tell our old selves, given the chance. I actually wrote myself a letter, doing just that, awhile back and shared it in this post: https://bereavedandblessed.com/2009/04/remembering-molly-1-year-happy-birthday/
Thank you for your kind words and support, Deborah. 🙂
Kathy recently posted..My Voices of the Year
I think sharing your journey really helps and inspires others. I love how you stress that either there is something good in everything or something good comes everything. It is certainly difficult to feel that at times. But, truly a great mantra to hold on to!
Melissa recently posted..Stress Free Kids by Lori Lite Provides Simple Guidance in Managing Stress for You and Your Kids
Thank you, Melissa. I appreciate your comment.
Kathy recently posted..Happy 2014!
Your blogged letters to grieving parents continue to bless me, too. Much love, L
P.S. What charity walk are your (& s & a’s) green t-shirts from?
Here via ICLW and reading your story for the first time. I’m a fellow bereaved parent and I love the title of your blog. Thank you for sharing your story and Molly’s story. Thinking of your sweet girl tonight.
Aurelia recently posted..New Year, Same Grief