Just after moving to Portland, I remember reading a blog from a friend. He talked about the story in the Bible of the 3 Hebrew boys (I don’t want to take time to spell their names), who got thrown into the fiery furnace. God had several points where he could have intervened in their lives, but he chose when they were actually in the furnace. My friend goes on to write that God’s timing is always perfect.
This was especially meaningful to me to me because he paralleled with an experience that we shared. I will never forget the day: It was either the very end of January or the very beginning of February, in any event, it was the Friday before the Super Bowl in 2008. We had found out maybe a week before that Roberta was pregnant. This was to our first ultrasound. She had shown some not so positive signs of her pregnancy, but we brushed them off. We were excited as we went to the doctor’s office.
The ultra sound began, and soon the tech’s face went funny and she grew concerned. We did not know what were looking at, but where the baby was supposed to be-nothing. The pregnancy was an eptopic. “This pregnancy was going to be successful.” We were told.
Not more than 2 months later, we moved to Portland, but not before we suffered more tragedy (different story, different day). Somewhere around this time, Roberta’s mom was also diagnosed with terminal lung cancer.
Fast forward to the night before Father’s Day this year. Roberta and I got to talking, and I convinced her to take a pregnancy test in the morning. Father’s Day morning, I found on the bathroom counter, a positive pregnancy test. Despite my nervousness about being a father, I was excited. We decided that we would wait to tell anyone until we could wait no longer (either she was showing or we need support). We especially did not want to tell her mom because she is not doing so well. After waiting an appropriate amount of time, we told her parents. It was like a breath of new life for her. She was excited, and literally had new life.
On July 4 a nurse called and told us that the blood work did not look good. This would not be a viable pregnancy. We had a terrible day, but the next day, they called us back and said that everything was fine. Actually they called several times and said that everything was fine. I went to kids camp, and actually came back for a second ultrasound. Everything looked really good. The heart was beating 150 beats per minute, her blood work was fine, everything was in order.
Ultrasounds by now naturally make me nervous. Yesterday we went in for another routine ultrasound. This time we were going to hear the baby’s heart beat. I was nervous, but confident that everything was fine. The ..OB.. searched for a heartbeat, but could not find it. She said that it was unusual, but that she would bring a portable ultrasound in to try to see it. She could not find anything. She said that perhaps there this machine is not big enough or strong enough and we should go next door and get a “real” ultrasound done.
There are certain word that when used in the right way and tip your hand. As the tech search and we watch on the screen, she found the baby, and I got excited. She said, “right here” pointed with an arrow on the screen, “you should see the heart beat.” Should. We don’t. There was no heartbeat. Our baby is gone.
We don’t know God’s mind. Roberta and I have a passion for adoption and foster kids, so maybe that God is telling us. We need to go that route. Maybe it is just not his timing. Maybe he knows something that we don’t. Actually I am confident in that fact. We don’t understand what God is doing, why some things happen and others don’t. What we do know is God is in control.
Saturday, July 25, 2009