One Year Ago – The Anatomy Scan

During the first half of pregnancy, I was so eager to find out whether our baby was a boy or a girl. We would have to wait for the anatomy scan at 20 weeks. That seemed forever away! As we got closer, we realized that we could schedule the anatomy scan for when Daniel’s parents were in town for Thanksgiving. That added an extra layer of excitement!

We anxiously waited. We had names picked out for a boy or a girl. We held off on buying any clothes. I didn’t really have an accurate hunch on the sex. One day I would say, “Yeah I think it’s definitely a girl!”, and then the next I would say, “Actually I’m feeling boy.” I had no idea! haha

I knew that the anatomy scan was to measure the growth and development of different parts of the body, but all I was really focused on was finding out the sex. I was too excited to worry about anything that could be wrong. Now after hearing so many baby loss stories, I know that the anatomy scan can be a very scary appointment. But then I was naive and hopeful. 

The day finally arrived! Daniel’s parents and I parked and walked the long path to the NC Women’s Hospital. We eagerly sat and chatted in the waiting room, hoping to hear my name called any minute. This is the same waiting room and offices where we would come months later to learn the horrible news. But that room was untainted then. 

My name was called! All four of us squeezed in the little ultrasound room. A very friendly ultrasound technician welcomed us. She asked questions about our family and whether we wanted to know whether it’s boy or girl. We quickly answered “YES!”. We were so excited!

She began the ultrasound. We could see our baby wiggling. We could see the heart beating and blood moving through the cord. She showed us the brain, kidneys, stomach, heart, lungs, liver, etc. Everything looked great! Growth was on track and healthy. When the technician framed the long-awaited “crotch shot”, there was no question. It was quite obvious….IT’S A GIRL! Daniel and I looked at each other, “We are going to have a little girl.” There was so much love in that moment. Daniel’s parents were so thrilled and happy. 

The technician took some cute pictures of her feet, her face, her body. She even did a 3D scan of her face. I couldn’t believe we were looking at our daughter. I couldn’t be happier!

After the scan, a doctor came in to go over the results. The baby girl looked healthy! I did have a small intrauterine band (not amniotic band which the doctor told me not to google). The band would not cause a problem and was out of the way of the baby. I was relieved and not at all worried. Of all the things that could be abnormal, that’s probably the best.  

We started walking out of the hospital. I whispered to Daniel, “Do you want to share the name?” He agreed. We stopped just outside the doors and told Daniel’s parents. Her name is Virginia Hope Jones; we would call her Ginny! We all teared up and hugged. Ginny was the name of Daniel’s great-grandmother who they were all very close to and I so wish I had the chance to meet.

I looked at my phone and realized I had several missed texts from my family. They were impatiently waiting to hear the results. I called my mom and told her, “It’s a girl! She is Virginia Hope Jones!” She was so excited and happy. My whole family guessed it would be a girl. I texted the rest of the family. They were all so excited! 

From that point on, we really knew her – our daughter Ginny! She was cute and perfect and healthy. We couldn’t wait to meet her in April! Little did we know, that wouldn’t happen.

That day is probably the best memory I have of our pregnancy with Ginny. That was the most time we got to see her alive. I’m so incredibly grateful for that day. I knew it would be an important day, but I didn’t know just how precious those memories would become. November 20, 2018 is a day I will never forget!

Fantasy

I awaken to her early morning cries. I slowly crawl out of bed, and pick her up. I kiss her forehead and lay her on the changing table. I change her diaper as she squirms. I zip her sleeper back up and scoop her into my arms. We head over to the rocking chair.  I realize how big she’s getting; her body and legs cross over me and her little feet slide through the hole under the armrest.  She plays with my hair as she nurses. I wonder what she’s thinking about…

Is my fantasy realistic? How would I know? 

Is it healthy to fantasize about how things would’ve been? I don’t know that either. But sometimes I do let myself indulge in the sweet “what ifs”. 

Maybe it would be better to fantasize about heaven…

I see her loved and warm in Jesus’s arms. 

I see her being rocked to sleep by my PopPop or Daniel’s Grandma Ginny. 

I see her dancing with an angel. I know she’s playful.

Is she a baby in heaven? Will she grow up? Or is she an ageless being? 

I think she’ll greet me when I die. I imagine recognizing her right away in light and hugging her so hard. 

Is heaven somewhere else? Is heaven here? Can she hear me or see me or feel me? I just want her to know I love her. I pray and ask Jesus to let her know. Maybe she already does. I hope she knows her daddy and me and how much we love and miss her. 

I remember being pregnant with her and talking to her. I told her, “We love you, Ginny! Mommy and Daddy love you so much.” I could barely get the words out through tears. I couldn’t contain my love. I was so happy. I fantasized about holding her and taking care of her then too. I asked Daniel, “Can you believe that in 3 months we will have a one-month old?!” We laughed at each other with wide eyes. 

Sometimes it feels like I’m still pregnant with her, like we are still waiting. I’m still fantasizing. I’m still hoping she feels my love. 

She is getting older in my fantasies though. She’d be 8 months old if she was born on her birthday, and she would be almost 7 months old if she was born on her due date. Would she be sitting up on her own? Would she be eating food; would she like avocados, bananas, mashed potatoes? Would we have taken her for her first road trip to the ocean or the mountains? We’d push a stroller on our walks. She’d be there with us watching OU football and picking out pumpkins. I’d be thinking about what to get her for Christmas and choosing a “baby’s first Christmas” ornament….

Back to reality — How wonderful that she gets to celebrate her first Christmas with Jesus! She probably has a better understanding of the salvation and glory of Christ than we do. That thought does comfort me, but we will still have an empty stocking. 

Will my mind always drift in and out of two realities? – the would’ve been and the actually is. Maybe one day the two will meet when Ginny and I are reunited. 

New Season

Monday, September 23 was the first day of autumn. It was also my first day at a new job. I started working exactly 1 year and 2 days after leaving my last job. Half the year I spent pregnant; half the year I spent mourning. Now it is time for a new season. 

It is bitter sweet to start working again. It feels so good to have a purpose and a to-do list and a schedule again. I feel proud of myself for actually changing careers to something less stressful and more meaningful. My new job is at a hospitality house called SECU Family House at UNC Hospitals. It is a place where patients and their families can stay while undergoing treatment. I help manage the volunteers who make the house run smoothly. I’ve been volunteering at the Family House for a few months now, and I am so inspired by the families who seem to always have hope and appreciation no matter their circumstances. This place has helped me heal, and I am honored to work there now. 

It is bitter, though, to be moving forward from this season of mourning. I know my grief isn’t over, but I also know it will not be the same. I won’t have the hours to contemplate, read, journal, and just remember Ginny like I have over these past months. I know I have to keep moving forward, but it is hard. 

I don’t want to forget her. I don’t want to forget anything about our time with her or mourning her. People tell me I will always remember her, and I know that is true in some respects. But I know I will forget some of what I’ve learned and how I feel and what it was like; I know I already have. That breaks my heart. I feel like I’m moving away from her. I don’t want to carry this heavy burden of grief everywhere, but I don’t want to let it go. It’s what I have of her. 

This time of mourning has been painful but beautiful for me. I feel so blessed that I have had this time. Most people don’t get this, including Daniel.  I’ve learned so much, and I’ve grown closer to God. This is what motherhood has been for me. 

I don’t want to think back on this season and only think of the pain. I don’t want it to be hard to remember. In the future, I don’t want to categorize it as “that dark time”. Because it hasn’t been dark. It has been life-changing and life-giving and intense. I want to think back on this season with love. I want to think of our sweet Ginny’s life, not just our loss. I don’t know how to preserve memories the way I want to. I’m hoping my writing will help. It seems strange to not want to forget a painful time, but I know those who lost will understand. 

In this new season I am trying to be deliberate about a few things. I want to avoid getting caught in the distraction of  busyness. I want to give myself the time and space to continue to mourn. I want to recognize and remember the lessons I’ve learned through suffering. But most of all, I want to remember Ginny. I don’t want her to fade into our history. Help us remember her – bring her up when you are around us. Let us know if you think of her. I will move forward, but she’ll stay in my heart.