My Heart Aches Today

I try to keep a positive note when blogging, but there are times when the only way for me to express myself is to write the words down. And I've been trying to keep my feelings repressed, but today I just can't not write about it anymore. Last week, Chris called me from work with the words I dreaded hearing: Trisomy 18.

Chris' brother and his wife have always wanted a large family and have been blessed with two great children. For the past 13 years they've been trying to have another one. I've seen them deal with failed IVF (after the babies took), clomid, miscarriages, ectopic pregnancy--and I probably don't know all of it. And through all of it they've bourne it all with grace--my sister in law is not a complainer and she is one of the nicest people you will ever meet. To see them go through all of this has been heartbreaking to say the least.

So when Chris' brother told us they were expecting, we were elated. We weren't sure this would happen, given the history, but he told us because he knew that they would need all the prayers of his family. We--along with the rest of the family--have spent a lot of time on our knees in prayer.

Last Tues. they came to KC to do advanced testing because their ultrasound had some negative findings. Then more chromosomal testing. The verdict: their child has Trisomy 18.

If you don't know, Trisomy 18 is chromosome abnormality. It is not compatible with life, meaning that the baby will either die before birth, or within about 2 weeks of birth. Chris has dealt with this in his practice--and it's never easy--but his voice shook with emotion when he he told me their diagnosis.

I know how to handle death and dying and sickness and funerals and all of that. I've been there and done that (as Chris likes to say, we're card carrying members now!). It's not like I haven't felt emotionally hurt before. When my sister's bright and intelligent son was diagnosed with autism my heart hurt more than I can even say. When I miscarried an 8-week old baby earlier this year, my heart hurt terribly. The news last week was really hard.

I wish I could do something to make their baby better, to take away the pain and hurt and anguish they must be feeling, but I don't know what to do. I wanted to jump in the car and drive to Manhattan and throw my arms around them and cry with them. But I couldn't. It was too hard. I wanted to call their doctors and tell them that their measurements were off, that they made a mistake, that the lab must have mixed up their results. This wasn't supposed to happen. I wanted to shake my fist at the world and say "Don't you know that this is the baby who's supposed to live? Don't you know what they've already been through? Why, for just this once, can't this baby be fine?" What can you do? How can you put all of your feelings into words? What more can you say than even though you cannot understand even a fraction of what they are going through you care so deeply for them that your heart literally aches for them?

All I can say is that we love you Jenny and Craig and family. Our prayers are with you.