I would now like to reminisce about the three days that I considered abortion. I was in my 21st week of pregnancy when I was told that she most likely had holoprosencephaly with severe hydrocephalus. The doctors spoke of nothing but doom and gloom, and about how they weren't sure if Marlena would be able to perform even the simplest of tasks along with the talk of vision and hearing impairment.
I was a complete emotional basket case during my pregnancy. I've always been against abortion, but there I was, considering it. It went against everything I've always believed in. I was such a hypocrite to consider it as heavily as I did, and I might I add that those three days of contemplation were the worst three days of my pregnancy.
During the night of that third day, I was driving back to my mom's house to pick up Vincent after dropping my husband off to work. I was having such a hard time. I was so lost, in such absolute despair. I saw a church with a lot of cars. I was crying hysterically when I drove up, parked my car, and walked up to the doors where some men were in a group talking. They looked at me, with concerned expressions, and escorted me inside. Tears still stained my face incessantly, one after the other, as if they were racing gravity to get down my face. I was hurting. I was alone. I was crushed. My baby, who we thought for those euphoric fifteen minutes in the waiting room was perfectly healthy, was sick. Her future was uncertain.
I found peace that night, as a woman took me into a room alone. She took both of my hands into both of her hands. As I continued to explain what was going on with my baby's brain, she stopped me mid-sentence and said, "Sweetie, that's called hydrocephalus. I'm a nurse." I was a little bit shocked. Looking back, I view this meeting as a divine appointment. I looked up to her, in the most girlish, painstakingly hoarse voice, "If I abort this baby, is that murder?" She paused for a moment and said,
"God breathed life into your baby."
I felt like these words were being spoken through her by Jesus himself. The conviction in her soft, pleasant voice when she spoke this sentence flowed into my soul. I didn't just hear these words, I felt them. She took me into the main area of the church where they were having a special guest speaker that night. I cried the rest of the night, holding both hands on my big belly, praying for a miracle. My family was pretty angry with me after I got home, because I didn't exactly tell anyone where I was or what I was doing. I just had to go. I had to find out more about the only One I had to turn to. Now I know that He is real. Miracles are still happening. Jesus is still working through people to help us. I am so, so thankful.
Earlier today I saw a girl while I was picking up some groceries who was there at the church that night. I haven't been back to that church since that night. A couple friends encouraged me to try out Renew, a church of a small, but tight knit congregation. I love them so much! So I started to learn more there and embarrassingly, haven't been back to the church I went to that night. The girl that I saw there remembered me. We used to ride the school bus together a while back. As I spoke more with her about everything I've just blogged about, she realized who I was talking about. She gave me her phone number and name and we connected again today after almost 10 months. It was only for a few hours, but she set the foundation for my state of mind for the rest of my pregnancy. Of course I had days where I'd freak out, but during those harder days, I always knew from that point on that I had Someone to put my faith in and turn to.
I look at my perfect, beautiful girl, now at six months old, and words just can't describe how thankful
I am for her.