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March 2002, Vol.3, Issue 4 Rachael’s Gift
Somehow, I knew something just wasn’t quite right. Looking back, I
wonder if God was trying to prepare us for what was to come. The
sonogram for our 3rd child came at 20 weeks of pregnancy
and my husband Brad and I were anxious to have it over with so we
could be assured that everything was ‘normal’. It wasn’t. Our baby
had several physical abnormalities: the most serious of which was
the underdevelopment of the four chambers of the heart. Further
tests were necessary to determine specifically what was wrong.
Shock, fear and total disbelief numbed our minds and hearts for the
next two days before our 2nd doctor’s appointment. A
level II sonogram and an amniocentesis confirmed I was carrying a
Trisomy 18 baby – Edward’s Syndrome. These babies, by some unknown
cause, have an extra 18th chromosome, which causes
substantial defects in all their major organs and produces 1 in 8000
live births We will never forget the overwhelming, intense pain upon
hearing the doctor’s next words. “This child isn’t compatible with
life - you should consider terminating the pregnancy.” I don’t think
I’ve ever felt closer to my husband in that moment as we held each
other and wept and felt each other’s hearts break.
The second half of our pregnancy was emotionally very difficult.
Sharing the news with our two other children, Meghan, 5 at this
time, and Ben, blessedly oblivious at 3years old, and our extended
families and friends was hard on everybody - who knew what to say?
Comments from unknowing strangers wishing me well with the baby were
bittersweet. We prepared for the chance that Rachel, as Meghan had
named her, might live, if only for a short while, while preparing
for her death by planning her funeral. At one week before my due
date, our 2nd daughter and third child was born on
January 7, 1999. She weighed in at only 3 lbs. 7 oz. And 16½ inches
in length. For two irreplaceable hours, Rachel was held in loving
arms while her weak, frail body hung on. She died peacefully and
left a beautiful impact on our lives.
As the next few weeks passed, the meals stopped coming, the friends
and family calls slowed down and life went on, as it should for
everybody else. Our journey, however, had just begun. A good friend
had told us about Journey of Hope and although I had been going to a
support group alone, the idea of something for our children was just
what we needed. As a family, we started faithfully attending the
Tuesday night meetings and found it was truly the highlight of our
week. My children couldn’t wait to go and loved being part of such a
positive, caring group. Brad and I found that we seemed to talk more
openly about our grief in the comfort of our intimate adult group.
For a solid year, the Journey of Hope was the warm, soft blanket we
wrapped ourselves in as we traveled through the roughest time in our
lives. The Journey of Hope was a crucial part of our grief recovery.
It gave us strength and courage as we tried to get pregnant again
(Jackson Neill Clapp is now 19 months old and a bright shining star
in our lives). It is in giving that we receive...and so I am
grateful and proud to now facilitate the same adult group that my
husband and I attended. What a gift it is to be that warm, soft
blanket for somebody else. |
