Uncharted Waters Part 4: From Summer to Autumn|A Mother’s Journey from Death to Life #PILAM #PregnancyandInfantLossAwareness

FROM SUMMER TO AUTUMN

A new obstetrician, Dr. F, received our MRI results to give us a second opinion. At the appointment, he performed his own ultrasound. Billy stood by, arms folded around his middle, bracing himself for the news.

The doctor sighed and held my arm. “This really sucks, but the prognosis is grave." He pointed at the ultrasound screen. "There are clearly no kidneys here.  Also, the umbilical cord is wrapped around the baby’s neck. Your amniotic fluid is completely depleted, and the lungs have not been developing. Most likely, your baby will be stillborn or live one or two hours at most.”

I closed my eyes, trying to hold back the tears to no avail. Sobs burst from within, shaking my whole body.

Desperate to hold our baby, I faced the doctor. “Is there some way to have my baby now? Before it dies?”

“Forcing a delivery could only be done by abortion. Do you really want to do that?”

“No.” Abortion was not an option for me.

THE CHOICE OF GRACE

When I was a teenager, my mother told me that when she thought she was pregnant with me, she had been told by her friends to go to an abortion clinic to at least get a free pregnancy test.

She was young and divorced with a four-year-old son at the time. She hoped that maybe, the clinic would offer some help.

While waiting to meet with the doctor, the thought occurred to her that the baby might be a girl, and she always wanted to have a girl. So she left the clinic. That day, my life was spared.

Mom holding me

I could not take this baby’s life, even if it was to be a very short one. I realized that I had to carry our baby for as long as the Lord had planned.

I had to trust He would be right by my side every step of the way.

COVERED IN PRAYER

In our small group at church, we broke the news that unless God intervened, our child would not survive. Our friends cried out to the Lord for us in prayer. I also shared with my women’s Bible study group, and they all placed their hands on my belly and prayed.

What a comfort to know people cared about me, and were seeking God on behalf of my unborn child. Through email, I asked all the Christians I knew to pray for the baby. I even e-mailed the pastors I knew in Ukraine, so people were praying for us globally. A wave of peace washed over me, as I felt covered in prayer.

A miracle was possible. God could heal our child.

When April was a baby, a young woman in our church named Heather, developed liver cancer. She had several rounds of chemotherapy, but her body couldn’t take any more. Her doctor said the cancer was terminal by then, and nothing else could be done.

Our church held a prayer meeting at a friend’s house for Heather. Billy prayed with everyone in the living room. I stayed in the kitchen with April and fed her Cheerios in a highchair, adding my own desperate prayers for Heather.

At Heather’s next doctor appointment, more tests were done.

The cancer had completely vanished.

It was amazing to witness this miracle firsthand. It confirmed to me that God still does the impossible and our prayers matter.

Researching on the Internet, we found websites that helped us understand our baby’s condition. Bilateral renal agenesis is also termed Potter’s Sequence (a video is found here).  I was able to read stories of other women who had babies with Potter’s Syndrome and how they coped with the diagnosis.

I discovered thst babies form kidneys in the first month after conception.  On the mission trip to Ukraine, I was already three months pregnant, so that ruled out the baby somehow acquiring Potter’s Sequence there. There was no known cause for bilateral renal agenesis and no treatment. Nothing could be done.

Billy and I kept hoping and praying that the Lord would completely heal our baby. But, with each ultrasound check-up, the doctor couldn’t find any kidneys, my hope for this miracle waned.

I had entered an autumnal season in my life and this marked by anticipatory grief. I didn't want to be on this journey. I didn't choose it. But apart from a miracle, nothing could change the fact that death awaited us just over the horizon. 

“Yet you, Lord, are our Father. 

We are the clay, you are the Potter; we are all the work of your hand.”

(Isaiah 64:8)

For Part 1, click here.

Next post, Part 5. 

Uncharted Waters Part 3: Paradise| A Mother’s Journey from Death to Life #PILAM #PregnancyandInfantLossAwareness

PARADISE

The day for the MRI appointment came.

Taking a deep breath, I positioned myself on the flat bed before it glided into the darkened tunnel of the MRI machine.

Despite being provided noise-blocking earphones, the clang, clang, clang, clang of the MRI jarred me.  

With each reading, I held my breath until light-headed.

The tunnel looked like a coffin. My heart quickened at the thought. Squinting my eyes shut, my mind wandered to something more wonderful—paradise.

THE GARDEN

Adam and Eve, perfectly made for each other, raced hand-in-hand, through an endless garden bordered by ferns and a myriad of flowers—orchids, hibiscus, lilies, and more. The air was thick with a delicious smell of perfume and sultry earth.

Two silhouettes, outlined by the setting sun, beheld a cliff that overlooked a river. Holding hands, the fearless figures jumped in, creating rippling ringlets of turquoise that faded out into the emerald deep.

Refreshed and glowing in the sunlight, the couple strolled into the middle of the garden—a variable orchard filled with every fruit tree imaginable.

Letting go of Adam’s hand, Eve wandered into the center of a ring of trees. Her hair draped over her body like a queen’s robe.

Barefoot on the soft, damp grass, she padded forward. There was a hush and heaviness to the air.

There, towering over her, was the Tree of Life with nearly ripened fruit. Next to it, stood the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. She felt magnetically drawn to its ripe, delectable fruit dangling within arm’s reach.

A hiss tickled the back of her neck. She pivoted to face a vermilion serpent hovering before her. Its body coiled and arched around the lowest branch. “Didn’t God say you must not eat of any fruit in the garden?”

“No, I can eat of any fruit, except this one,” she said, with chin upturned, pointing to the fruit that was suspended in front of her. “God said do not eat or even touch it, lest I die.”

“Are you sure you can trust God?” bid the voice. “Reach up. Grab it. One bite and you will not die. You will become like God, knowing all sorts of things. Why doesn’t He want you to know those things anyway?”

Eve hesitated. But the temptation proved too strong.

With both hands, she plucked the fruit and took a bite, crunching hard until the juice flowed, red as blood, dripping down her chin and through her shaking fingers. Finding Adam, she offered some to him, and he ate it.

BROKEN TRUST

Shame washed over them. They felt helpless, vulnerable. Eve plucked some nearby fig leaves and shared them with Adam in order to cover themselves, but that didn't remove the deep shame they now wore.

“Adam. Where are you?” whispered God.

Both Adam and Eve peeked out from behind a tree. Eve’s whole body burned and shook at the same time.

Adam spoke first. “I don’t want to come out, because I am naked.”

God replied, “Did you eat the fruit I forbade you from eating?”

Adam confessed that he ate the fruit, but blamed it on Eve. Eve blamed it on the serpent. God was grieved and angry, because they had rebelled against him.

Instead of blessing, the earth and its inhabitants received a curse. As a consequence of the first sin, Eve would suffer in childbirth and in relationship with her husband. Adam would suffer frustration and futility in his work.

Though they deserved their punishment, God offered Adam and Eve a glimmer of grace. In His great mercy, He provided a way for all humanity to be saved. He told them He would send one of the woman's offspring, the Messiah, or King, to destroy the devil and conquer sin, shame, suffering, and death forever.

The Lord said to the serpent that when Messiah comes, “He will crush your head, and you will strike His heel (Genesis 3:15).”

Strings of venomous saliva blew in the wind as the snake opened its mouth wide in defiance, revealing its four curved teeth. Four teeth, sharp as nails, destined to wound the One and Only Son of God, the King of Kings and Lord of Lords (Genesis 3:1-22). They would pierce His hands and His feet (Psalm 22:16).

Clang, clang, clang, clang.  Then, silence.  I glided out of darkness and into light.  As I rested on the bed, I could breathe again. Holding my protruding belly, I kept thinking about the Garden of Eden in the book of Genesis, where life began.

A diagnosis of bilateral renal agenesis would mean death for my child.

Would I trust our Creator in life and in death? 

“For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.  I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well…

All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.”

(Psalm 139:13-16)

 “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you.”

 (Jeremiah 1: 5, NKJV)

For Part 1, click here.

Next post, Part 4.

Uncharted Waters Part 2: Port Terminal|A Mother’s Journey from Death to Life #PILAM #PregnancyandInfantLossAwareness

PORT TERMINAL

A few months after coming back to the U.S. from Ukraine, I went to the doctor for a routine ultrasound. As I rested on the examination bed, Billy picked up April and sat on a stool right next to me.

"So," I patted Billy's hand, which he had placed on my belly. "If it's a girl, I get to name the baby Natalie, but if it's a boy, you can name him. Deal?"

"I know just the name," he grinned and ran his fingers through his auburn hair. "Ever since I saw the movie, Return of the Jedi, as a kid, I've wanted to name my own son, Luke."                                                                                   

"I love that name, but it's a girl." I winked.

The ultrasound technician, a cheerful, blonde middle-aged woman, asked my daughter, "Are you ready to see your baby brother or sister on the TV?"

April said, "Yay!" clapping her hands.

The tech squeezed the warm gel on my belly and guided the ultrasound receiver across the area of my womb. The outline of our baby’s profile appeared on the TV screen. 

We could see a little heart beating. The screen turned red in that spot as the technician took measurements of the size, heart rate, and blood flow.

"I'm sorry, guys," said the tech, "The legs are crossed, which makes it impossible to determine the gender."

"Aw, maybe next time," I said.

As our little one moved about in my womb, the technician did more measurements. She spent a long time scrutinizing the monitor with her lips sealed into one flat line.

"You all hang tight. I'm going to need the doctor come in." She excused herself and came back with my obstetrician, Dr. G.

He used the ultrasound equipment to examine the baby and nodded to the tech with a serious look. He printed the results and handed me a tissue. “Please get cleaned up and come with me to my office.”

After wiping the gel off my belly, we followed him down the hall.

Why did the doctor check the ultrasound? Why do we have to go to his office?

Is there something wrong with our baby?

Dr. G directed us through a doorway to his mocha leather armchairs. “Have a seat, Mr. and Mrs. Griese.”  

The chair was cold against my skin, which made it difficult to relax.  I kept crossing and uncrossing my legs. My thoughts were anything but calm.   

The doctor rubbed his gray head and stared at the ultrasound results. Then he looked up. “I’m really sorry, but I couldn’t find the baby’s kidneys. It looks like there are no kidneys.

All at once, my fingernails bore into the armchair. No kidneys?! What does that mean?

The doctor wrote something on a notepad. "I’m going to have to refer you to a specialist. I think I can get you in today.” He walked to the door, waiting for us.

I felt too overwhelmed to speak. Billy and I stood and followed the doctor to the receptionist. She telephoned a high-risk obstetrician, who could see us that day.

GRAVE DIAGNOSIS

Billy drove me to the office in silence. He walked me to the door and hugged me while holding little April's hand. "I think we should drop her off with a babysitter. I'll be right back, okay?"

My brow scrunched tight as I nodded. He snapped April into her car seat and sped away.

The other women in the office, all pregnant like me, read magazines while they waited. Some of them had reddened eyes and wrinkled foreheads. I wondered if there was something wrong with their babies, too.

Billy arrived back just in time for the nurse to call us in. We were led into another ultrasound room and greeted by Dr. C, an older doctor who had white hair combed over and large square glasses. He examined the baby with higher resolution equipment, then directed us to his office.

The room was freezing. My body shook from both the frigid temperature and fear. Billy held me close to keep me warm.

Dr. C began by asking us a question, “Do you pray?”

We both nodded.

“Well, then, you need to start praying, because your baby has bilateral renal agenesis, meaning, there are no kidneys, and that’s not compatible with life.”

My chest tightened. I could barely speak. “Incompatible with life? My baby is going to die?”

Billy blurted out, “Are you absolutely positive there are no kidneys?”

“There’s a seventy-five percent chance I’m right.” His forehead wrinkled.

“How can we know for sure?” I hoped beyond hope he was wrong.

“You can try an MRI, but that might not be conclusive, either.”

“I’d still like to try it,” Billy said.

"Me too." I held his hand tight.

We left the office without saying a word. I peeked at the printed ultrasound picture of my baby, then stared ahead. The whole world seemed to darken before me.

Each arduous step to the car was an effort against the weight of my own body wanting to buckle beneath me.

Before picking up April from the babysitter, we stopped at a restaurant for lunch but didn’t make it through the front doors.

I don’t remember who started crying first, but we both sat outside on a bench weeping, wailing, and clutching each other. I could sense people walking past us, probably wondering what was wrong.

We sat there, unable to move, not wanting to eat, wishing this day had never happened.

The Lord is my pilot, I shall not drift,

He lighteth me across the dark waters;

He steereth me in the deep channels,

He keepeth my log.

He guideth me by the star of holiness

For His namesake.

Yea, though I sail mid the thunder and tempest of life,

I shall dread not danger, for thou art near me.

Thy love and thy care, they shelter me.

Thou anointest my lamp with oil, my ship rideth calmly.

Thou preparest a harbor for me in the homeland of eternity.

Surely sunlight and starlight will favor me on the voyage I take,

And I will rest in the port of my God forever.

From “The Sailor’s Psalm,” by Captain J.H. Roberts (1874)

For Part 1, click here.

Next post, Part 3.

Uncharted Waters Part 1: Embarkation|A Mother’s Journey from Death to Life #PILAM #PregnancyandInfantLossAwareness

EMBARKATION

In July of 2003, months of planning for my first short-term mission trip to Ukraine were working out. The financial support came in. I secured babysitters for my toddler. My husband would take time off to visit family so he wouldn’t miss me so much.

There was only one thing holding me back.

I was pregnant.

After praying about the risk, my desire to go to Ukraine did not waver. I would continue on and trust in the Lord to keep my baby safe.

By the time the first-trimester nausea dissipated, my bags were packed, and I was ready to go.

Early in the morning, while down on my knees, amidst tears and fears, I committed myself and my unborn child to God.

June 4, 2003

“Lord, thank you for giving me a calling, a plan, and a purpose for my life. You are Sovereign. You have power over life and death. Please give me the strength to follow your calling and reign in my heart. I dedicate myself to You and Your service and place my life and the life of my unborn child in Your Almighty hands.”

—

As I left the car and ventured toward the airport lobby, rolling my suitcase behind me, my husband and daughter waved goodbye. Being a toddler, April stared in wonder as the sliding doors shut in front of her. I don’t think she comprehended how long I would be gone. Billy knew. I could see the sadness in his eyes.

Aside from a little turbulence that made me airsick, the flight to Ukraine was uneventful. I had perfect peace the entire way. I freely conversed with the other short-term missionaries in my group and grew especially close to Sally, an Asian American from Arizona. Wayne, from Texas, would be my English co-teacher.

GREAT EXPECTATIONS

The night before teaching, we prayed and enjoyed a lasagna dinner with the Ukrainian missionaries. I felt led to share with my team that I was nervous about teaching and wondered if I could truly make any difference in our students’ lives.

“Expect great things from God,” challenged Sally. She beamed a bright smile and held my shoulder reassuringly.

 

Studying ESL lessons with Wayne, Sally, and her co-teacher, Charlie

The next day, the bus rumbled on the street corner outside our communist-style concrete apartment where we were staying. Its fumes permeated the breezeless air and added extra warmth to an already hot summer day. We boarded in silence, ready to embark on the great mission of reaching the world with the love of Christ. The whole prospect of teaching English thrilled me. The Ukrainians were known to be spiritually curious and might ask us questions about our faith.

Short-term Mission Team at English Camp

Upon our arrival, one Ukrainian student named Natalya waited outside my cabin door to walk with me to classes.

“Hablas español?” she asked.

I didn’t think I would need to speak Spanish in the middle of a Slavic country. But, it turned out that knowing a little Spanish came in handy.

Natalya barely knew any English, and I barely knew any Russian or Ukrainian. So, we figured that we could communicate with each other in Spanish—the only language we both knew. We called each other, “mi querida amiga,” which meant, “my beloved friend.”

We walked everywhere together, the Ukrainian way—by holding hands. At first, I felt a little childish, holding hands with my newfound friend. But eventually I got used to it and missed this simple way of showing affection when I came back to the U.S.

Natalya, “mi querida amiga”

Toward the end of camp, Natalya prayed during a teaching and gave her life to Christ in my presence. What joy filled my heart to see her brought into a living relationship with God through Jesus Christ. And, Sandy was right; wonderful things happen when we expect great things from God. It’s amazing how the Holy Spirit, unseen like the wind, sweeps down into the deepest part of person’s heart, and awakens it to new life.

“As you do not know the path of the wind,

or how the body is formed in a mother’s womb,

so you cannot understand the work of God,

the maker of all things.”

(Ecclesiastes 11:5)

“The wind blows where it wishes,

and you hear its sound,

but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes.

 So it is with everyone born of the Spirit…

For God so loved the world,

that he gave his only Son,

that whoever believes in him

should not perish but have eternal life.”

(John 3:8, 16, ESV)

MARKED BY LOSS

Teaching English to the Ukrainian students was a joy. I relished the instant conviviality and solidarity of sharing life with my mission team. There is something bonding about living in close quarters at a former communist youth camp, where the bathrooms are termed "squatty-potties," and between the buzzing mosquitoes and jet-lag, sleep is scarce.

Only one thing got me down.

One morning, while praying, my Bible accidentally slipped out of my fingers, off my cot, and thudded to the floor. It broke open in the middle, right at the book of Job, ripping the introductory page in half.

At that moment, a wave fear swept over me. I knew that God loved Job and was very pleased with him. But Job’s life was marked by overwhelming loss and sorrow. It made me wonder. Does God have something like that planned for me?

Next post, Part 2. 

Nineteen Years|St. Augustine Getaway #Anniversary

At three years into our marriage, sometimes I didn't think we would make it. Grief had brought out the worst in us and threatened to tear us apart.

After experiencing the death of a dearly beloved family member in 2003, our marriage was about to shipwreck. We needed a lighthouse, a way to navigate around the dangers of conflict allowed to escalate beyond acceptable levels.

Pride has no place when two people promise to become one. In order for our marriage to survive, we needed to be humble enough to ask for help. That support came in the form of friends, family, our church, and marriage counseling. The lighthouse we needed was the grace of God, exemplified in Jesus Christ. God the Father always forgives us in light of Jesus who sacrificed Himself on the cross for our sins. If we believe this, we can forgive.

It was a fight to learn to stop fighting each other.

Five years later, by the grace of God, we came to terms of peace.

Halloween 2008

For our nineteenth wedding anniversary, we chose to immerse ourselves in Old Spanish Colonial Florida in St. Augustine. Having celebrated our anniversary here before, we were able to take stock in how far we've come in loving each other unconditionally.

Casa de Solana, the house of one of my ancestors

"Above all, love one another deeply" (1 Peter 4:8) 

Anastasia Island

In the middle of our rocky years, I never would have believed we could love each other again. I thank God for His amazing grace that keeps on shining His unconditional agape' love toward us, showing the way to peace.

"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit" (Romans 15:13). 

Why my Grandpa Loved Halloween|A Life Well Lived #centenarian #Halloween

On October 31, 1916, at age five, my grandfather, Ernest Hedges almost died. You see, he was all dressed up for Halloween. Ready to go to the annual Halloween party at the one-room schoolhouse, but a fever landed him in bed.

Eunice, Ernie, and big sister, Louise

His mother and eight siblings, all except his big sister Pearl left without him.

He gradually grew worse. His skin turned as orange as a pumpkin and his fever spiked way beyond an acceptable level. Papa Hedges rushed him by carriage to the nearest hospital in town.

The ER doctor knew right away the problem. A ruptured appendix. By the grace of God, Grandpa Ernie received life-saving surgery. He recovered in the hospital for a month.
Missing Halloween had a huge impact on Grandpa. Even in his elder years he still loved to dress up.

Grandpa lived through the World War I, The Depression, and World War II, in which he was finally drafted.

In Italy, he met his beautiful wife, Cina.

After they both returned to the states, they built a home and a life. My father, Jonathan was the youngest of four children.

When my father was five years old, they moved from Madison Wisconsin to Melbourne, Florida. Grandpa was a baker and opened Hedges Bakery in Downtown Melbourne. Grandpa did the baking and Nona Cina decorated the cakes beautifully.

Grandpa and Nona's family grew.

And grew.

In 1998, Nona developed a cough that wouldn't go away. Doctors confirmed she had lung cancer, though she never smoked a day in her life.

Six weeks after her diagnosis, on July 8, 1998. she was gone.

In her memory, Grandpa Ernie wrote, Flowers for Cina, his life story, at the age of 92.

Many birthdays later, at the age of 105, Grandpa celebrated with his children, grandchildren, and twenty great-grandchildren.

Only a week later, on Halloween, October 31, 2016, exactly 100 years after he almost died as a child, Grandpa Ernie got a cold, which turned into pneumonia.

At the blessed age of 105 years old, Grandpa passed into the loving arms of Jesus.
Halloween was a special day for Grandpa. It's a day he was spared and given an extra 100 years to live.

I will always remember Halloween as a special day for a very wonderful grandpa.

In his life, Grandpa shared the love of Jesus, inspired his family and friends, and mentored his many adopted "grandkids."