After yet another of Airdrie's physiotherapy appointments yesterday I spent a bit of time in thought, in retrospect of the past 12 months. More exactly what I was thinking and feeling a year ago, 7 months pregnant.
|August 2013-- 3rd trimester|
We had been in our new home country for right around 6 weeks and were still adjusting, but loving all the newness of Scotland and the adventure we were embarking on.
We had known for 6 weeks that there was a problem with our 4th child discovered by ultrasound just the day before moving.
Most nights Mark and I cried ourselves to sleep, whispering our greatest fears, our hopes, our dreams, the what-ifs. The unknown enveloped me like a cumbersome fog that was unshakable.
We truly had a diagnosis spectrum that went something like "will not survive much past birth" to "slightly handicapped." And that's it. That HUGE scale of what to hope for, what to pray for.
|Airdrie's first picture in Scotland|
My question always was, "What if God is asking the ultimate from us?" It was always unvoiced, Mark didn't have to hear it from my lips, my parents and in-laws didn't need to read it in a text, we all knew and were in an awful state of suspense.
As a matter of fact it wasn't until this past April, when Airdrie was 5 months old, that I ever heard someone vocalise our fears. It was when my father introduced Airdrie to their home church in Colorado and he said concerning her birth, "I went to Scotland expecting to do a funeral."
In August 2013 I took this photo of a picture I have in my house, given to us by a friend in Missouri. It was packed up and en route to Scotland before we'd ever had an ultrasound that would find something amiss with our baby girl.
I walked by it one day and read it, as if reading it for the first time:
Straight from Romans, straight from God. A truth recorded centuries ago that would have enormous impact on me. No matter the outcome, God is working it for good.
The friend who gave us this picture was also such a blessing to me in this time as she faced similar trials when they found problems in utero with her daughter over a decade ago. I would email her regularly seeking encouragement and understanding.
Some of her words written a year ago that really touched me:
"...blessed is having a loving Christian husband who is able to hold you and cry with you and reassure you that God is and will always be there. Blessed is having three beautiful healthy children that will all be blessed by this special little girl whether you are allowed to have her with you here on earth only for this precious nine months, or for years to come. Blessed is having the love of so many people, showering you with constant prayer and encouragement..."
Even now we don't know the full extent Airdrie's condition will impact her life but I'll add to that list even in our unknown, "Blessing is having a baby who's very smile is an indicator of God and His goodness."