Our beautiful boy . . .

Yesterday, just one month after we received news of our son's fatal diagnosis, my husband and I went to the perinatal center to see our son (ultrasound) and talk with the doctor who confirmed our son's diagnosis on May 6th. As you can imagine, sleeping the night before the appointment was challenging. I was angry with myself for not praying over the past month for the miracle that my son would be healed, that it would be God's will and that the doctors would tell us "it's a miracle, your son has been healed." I questioned God, "is it too late God?" "Can you hear me now, can i beg this of you now?" And then I realized as I had just moments after learning of my son's fatal diagnosis that God was with my Evan, with me, my husband, my daughter and my family and all I could ever do, would ever do is pray for His will to be done and ask for peace, strength and courage throughout this journey. I realized that surviving this journey would be a miracle and accepted the reality that my son has anencephaly and would not be coming home with his mommy and daddy to meet his big sister. It was a couple of weeks later that I also came to realize that God may have (more than likely has) already intervened in so many ways (ways that I don't feel comfortable sharing here now) to ensure that I would be able to continue to try my best to be the mom, wife, daughter, sister, friend that I have always wanted and tried to be. (I must admit that I have been and continue to be so fearful that this may not be true and find myself evaluating my parenting and behavior so frequently . . .even more than before, which if you know me is pretty scary! :-)
Yesterday morning my husband and I dropped our beautiful daughter off at pre-k and went off to spend time with our son. I was anxious, nervous, overwhelmed, fearful and so much more. The wait to be called was long and as I sat in the large waiting room I saw a woman sitting across from me on the far wall. I saw that she was crying and wiping away her tears. Of course, I had no idea why she was crying but I had this incredible urge to hug her, comfort her. In an effort to remain somewhat composed, instead I made eye contact with her, smiled gently, wiped my own tears, and prayed.
My name was called and my husband and I met an amazing stenographer and nurse. We entered the ultrasound room and soon after began the ultrasound. We saw our son, our Evan and for a moment everything disappeared except my husband, our son, the stenographer that beautifully described our son's every body part and movement, and me.

If you are a parent, aunt, uncle, or just have an amazing love for children you can understand me when I say that there are moments when children take our breath away. Moments when you become so full of love, warmth, peace, and joy so deep and amazing that you want to get lost in that moment. My daughter creates these kind of moments frequently (she's amazing!!). In fact, lying with her last night she did this very thing. Well, it is moments like this that explain exactly how I felt at the moment my son was kicking his little feet and legs so sweetly and we sat watching it for as long as he would allow before changing his position (stinker!). It was exactly how I felt in the moment that the stenographer wanted to take a closer look at my son's face/head and realized that my sweet boy had his arm/hand covering his forehead so that we could not see any sign of anencephaly but only his beautiful nose, lips and chin.  It was in this moment that my fears of what he might look like and wondering if I would be able to see him without washing away a beautiful picture I have of him in my mind disappeared (I am being very honest and also need to add that it has pained me to no end to think about how scared I have been and how fearful I have felt in regards to seeing my son for the first time). Evan's actions dissolved my fear in this sweet precious moment. I thought to myself, he doesn't have to be bashful, sweet boy you don't have to be shy with your mommy and daddy we think you are perfect.

We had to stop the ultrasound for a moment because our breath was taken away by our son but we were able to continue and see more of his beauty and perfection. It was phenomenal . . . he is phenomenal. My sweet husband was amazing, as always, as we experienced this together. I have pictures on a CD of these beautiful moments. The one above is the moment I described in which my son's arm/hand was across his forehead (middle/left you will see his chin, lips, nose and some of his eyes). I know if you are still reading this long post :-) you too will see how beautiful and perfect my son is.