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Grief is quite mysterious. Why does it hit at the strangest times? I went to the doctor’s office today and it hit me. I had imagined bringing Uriah in and showing him off to the staff. All I had to show off today was my fat rolls. Tears…

Monday morning came with not much change. I waited for Jesse to get to the hospital before going to see Uriah. To be honest I can’t remember much from this day. Uriah had never quit having the “hiccups.” I asked the nurse that morning what they were. She said she had just asked the doctor that same question. He didn’t believe they were hiccups at all. Instead he thought them to be a spinal reflex of some sort. He thought that sometime the night before Uriah was born either the umbilical cord became twisted or the placenta started to pull away from the uterus causing Uriah to not get enough oxygen. Uriah then tried to breath and this is what caused the reflex.

The doctor that delivered Uriah came to see us that morning. He sat on the other side of Uriah’s bed and just stared at him and shook his head. He said, “Hannah, I’ve been doing this for over 30 years and have never seen anything like this.” I immediately wondered if this was supposed to make me feel better or worse. I was so angry. I wondered then why it had to be Jesse and me that had to go through this? I knew we would be hearing people say that God wouldn't give us more than we could handle. I hate when people take that verse (I Corinthians 10:13) out of context. The verse is saying that we will not be tempted above what we are able to handle, and that God will make a way for us to escape the temptation. This was not a temptation, and yes many people said that to us. After the anger passed I started to ask God, and myself, “Why us?” Was it because we were strong enough to handle it? I don’t think so. Was it because we deserved it? I don’t believe that either. Was it because the devil wanted to prove to God that we weren’t serious about serving and loving Him? I’m leaning toward believing this. I then asked myself, “Why not us?” Why did I think myself so special that something like this couldn’t happen to us? Since starting this blog I have been amazed to find how many people have had to deal with infant death. What made us any different or better than them?

We waited half the day Monday to find out if they were going to do a second EEG on Uriah, and then the rest of the day to find out the results. We didn’t hear anything until early evening. The results were that nothing had changed. In my heart I had known that this is what they were going to tell us, but I sure had hoped for quite the opposite. I tried so hard not to cry. Jesse and I were standing there staring at our son and I just buried my head in his shoulder and cried. I realized then and there that I would never hear Uriah cry. I would never see him try to toddle through the house. I would never hear his giggle. I would never feel the warmth of his body next to mine. I wouldn’t be able to rock him to sleep or sleep with him on my chest. I wouldn’t get to stand up for him to his siblings for getting into their things. I would never see him on the basketball court, on stage, on the baseball field, or running over the hill to see his grandparents.

Jesse and his mom went back home that night with heavy hearts. I went to bed wondering if I really wanted to live. I talked with three different friends that night. They were all so loving and caring. They helped to lessen the pain as I fell asleep. Jesse and I had to decide within the next few hours what we were going to do. How does a parent decide to take their son off of a respirator? This is not a decision any parent should have to make.


Patricia said...

So beautiful even with all the medical materials. Praying for you all of you.

Grace said...

Tears,continued prayers, and hugs.