Tuesday, November 15, 2011


So, I got a phone call yesterday. 11/11/11. A dear friend of mine called and had some questions about her pregnancy. We chatted about that and several other things. I felt good talking to her. I missed her terribly. I was happy for her to be having another, much prayed for, and very excited anticipated baby. It would be her third boy and seventh child. I became somewhat depressed as I mulled over that number. 7. I have been pregnant with number 7 three times now. I know that, technically, the first of those three was number seven. Ok, let's get even more technical, it was actually number 9. Anywoo... I had been pregnant three times during the last two years, hoping that each time it would be the lucky number 7. Which apparently is not my lucky number. 
My friend called back a couple of hours later. She was in the hospital, they were keeping her there. She was at a 4, and there was some green staining in the fluid. 
Her baby was born just before 6 on 11/11. 
I was insanely, stupidly jealous.
I stewed over this for several hours.
I was praying that I could find the peace I needed in my heart, when during that prayer, I suddenly remembered that her baby had passed meconium in-utero. That for what ever reason he was somehow stressed. I changed my prayer. I prayed that he would be ok. That their family would be ok.
I felt chastised.
Tonight as I was watching a movie with my husband and oldest son still at home, my daughter came out of her room and announced that my friends baby had died. That he had been born with underdeveloped lungs and that he was born without any kidneys. She had recieved a post on facebook from my friends daughter.
I was shocked and felt absolutely horrible.
My sweet friend had been so excited for the new baby. I had truly been happy for her, even if I was jealous. I was just jealous of the fact, not the person. 
I am sitting here, wondering, How on Earth did they not catch the fact through ultrasound, that the lungs were not developed, and that the kidneys were missing? I know there's a connection between the two, and if any of you know it, please post a comment, I just can't think of it right now.
I think it may be Potter/s Syndrome
Say a prayer. Light a candle. My sweet friend will need all the love and prayers you can give. I don't care if when you read this it's been a week, or a month, or even a year. The healing will be ongoing for the rest of her life. If you are reading this, you most likely have lost a much wanted pregnancy/child and can relate to what I'm saying. The pain lessens, you can eventually climb out of bed and face the day. You go on, resume your life. But, you never fully get over the loss of a child. No matter what stage of pregnancy or childhood they were in. If I am in my 70's and one of my children were to die, would it be any less heartbreaking? They would have been in their 40-50's. They would have lived life. Would it hurt me any less than losing a child during the early part of pregnancy? Or to lose a child near, or at birth? No. It would be the same. I have the belief that we will be reunited after this life. That our families will be forever families. That is in itself a comfort. But, I still struggle with the emotional loss here and now. I have never lost a child that had grown in my womb for many months, to reach the end, and then lose him/her. I have lost my babies before I felt the first movements. I never felt that connection with them as the grew and moved within me. But, I held their tiny bodies in my hand and wept over what was lost. Their mortal life. They will be mine in the next life. To hug and to hold. To rejoice with. But for now, they are missed. Each and every one of them. 
I will pray for my friend. I will call her. I will be there for her when she calls me and cries.
Because I know she will, just as I did.

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