Seven Years Ago

By Beck

I originally posted this back at my original, now defunct blog, and it’s always been one of my favorites. While I was reading through an old diary this week, I realized with a jolt that the events in this post happened very close to this time seven years ago , and so I thought I’d post it again, as a reminder to myself to always, always know how deeply blessed I am to have my beautiful, beloved son.

Back in 2001, I was five months pregnant with my second child. The pregnancy had been uneventful, except for severe morning sickness that had just faded. One morning, I was sleeping in bed with my then-2 year old daughter, and she innocently gave me a sharp kick in the stomach as she slept. I immediately knew that something was wrong, stood up – and began bleeding heavily.

At the hosptial, my worst fears were confirmed – they could not detect the baby’s heartbeat. The doctor and nurses at the hospital were very sympathetic – all of them were women, and nearly all of them had lost a pregnancy. The ultrasound tech at our small rural hospital had gone home sick, so they scheduled an ultrasound for the next morning in a town an hour away, and booked the next, terrible appointment after it. I was in a bleak, fathoms deep despair – this baby who had been so loved, so wanted, was gone.
The next morning, my mother, husband and toddler waited in the lobby while I went into the dark ultrasound room. I lay with my face to the wall, not wanting to see the sad, sad image, while the gentle, middle-aged technician quietly went about her work.
Suddenly, she made a sharp intake of breath. “What did they say had happened?” she asked.

My baby had died, I said.

Look at the monitor, she said, her voice joyous. And I turned my head and saw my healthy, living baby moving gently, his heart beating. It was the single most radiantly happy moment of my whole life.

On the way home, my husband suddenly stopped the car, ran into a gift shop, and came out with a blue glass heart, which has hung ever since in my window. Many things may happen to me in my life, but everytime I look at that heart, I think about this undeserved grace, the blessing of that child.

(This seems sort of anti-climactic to post, but this is what had happened: I had severe undiagnosed placenta previa, and the placenta was positioned just in the right spot to prevent his heartbeat from being heard at that point. I often have thanked God for that experience, since it scared me enough to make me accept fully the need for total bedrest for the rest of the pregnancy, and my son was born hale and hearty that winter.)

Beck blogs at Frog And Toad Are Still Friends.