At this point, EVERYthing I had gone through was worth it. I was pregnant... with twins. The ups and downs, the pills, the hormones, the shots, the bills, the surgeries, the pain - it all didn't matter anymore. Jesus came through and even though it was a really rough couple years, we made it. We would be parents!
My pregnancy progressed and I was so obsessed with it. I took a million photos every day; it was all I thought about. I praised Jesus and celebrated His goodness. He was a healer and He was making me a mom.
8 weeks into the pregnancy, we miscarried one of the babies. There was no heartbeat and although I felt so sad, I was comforted by the one baby that was growing and thriving.
Once we were out of our first trimester, we told our family and friends and we all celebrated together!!! It was so amazing.
In December, we went for a routine 15 week ultrasound. I was hoping we could find out the gender of our little angel! However, instead of finding out if we'd be having a boy or girl, we found our baby was not doing well like we'd thought. There was no amniotic fluid surrounding the baby and the baby's kidneys were covered in cysts making them completely useless. Now, if the fetus has just one kidney with this disease, they can still survive. Our baby had it in both kidneys. The odds of this happening are 1 in every 20,000 fetuses and they are random. Not genetic, not caused by eating habits, exercise habits. Just random. Fetuses with MCDK in both kidneys ... do not survive. My baby would not survive. The rest of that appointment was a whirlwind in which I blacked out for most of. I vaguely remember a genetic counselor offering us options and an explanation of what was happening, but I couldn't wrap my head around any of it. How could Jesus do this to us? After ALL we had gone through to get pregnant, how could He take this baby away from us?
Despite the useless kidneys, my baby still had a heartbeat, so I refused to end everything right then. Over the next few weeks, we got multiple opinions from other doctors, prayed relentlessly, talked to our pastor almost daily, and DID. NOT. GIVE. UP. HOPE. I just knew Jesus was using this as an opportunity to perform one of his crazy miracles- He was going to heal my baby just in the knick of time and I would be a walking testimony.
Weeks went by and every check up was the same- same diagnosis, no progress, no miracles. On December 29, 2016, 20 weeks into our pregnancy, our daughter Aria James was born and went to live with Jesus. I was 26 years old (the age God told me I'd be a mom).
I can't even begin to describe the feelings that came with losing my daughter like this. I was so angry with God. I didn't deny His existence, but I felt nothing but anger towards Him. Nothing made any sense. This was not what people tell you about who God is and this is NOT at all what you expect from someone who is supposed to love you with this unfailing love. Our pastor kept reminding us that this isn't the end... God will never take something without giving us something even better in return. At the time, there was NOTHING that I could imagine that would so far outweigh this brokenness.
For the next few months, my husband and I were completely broken. We continued to see our pastor and she prayed for us, cried with us, listened to us vent about being completely let down. We shut ourselves off from our family, our friends. I stopped going to work. I lost all hope in being a mom and with that, I lost myself.