Better Than Okay: A Hardest Comfort

I have been waiting for the time

that I would begin to write here about our baby loss.

So when, in just these past few days I have listened and read news about laws of life, of weeks of pregnancy before abortion, I have realized this is when my (written) words needed to come out.

What my family has gone through these past 8 weeks will forever change how my mind processes those most tender procedures

related to giving birth,

including abortion and those not-ideal medical situations.

I now know.

I know what a baby looks like who was delivered

before the right time.

Before there was time to be fully developed.

Before the time you would hope for,

without the circumstances you would hope for.

Those most intricate toes, heels.
That tiniest nose, gently opened lips.
How soft and smooth the skin.
The hardness of those knees, elbows, shoulders.

Oh, my heart.

And when I allow myself to really remember those beyond-words moments of my delivery story...

It is sorrow all through me,

but also such a sacredness that I will protect and honor for my entire life.

And when I allow myself to imagine abortion and what that decision and process may entail...

My mind wants to shut off,

and my heart hurts so badly I just about have to curl up my entire body, to combat the pain and ache.

These words are meant with such love and such tenderness.

Years back, when I was working as a counselor,

my first client was a female college student with beautiful dark red hair. Through a fragile smile that turned into sobs, she described to me her present heartache.

2 years earlier, she had gone through an abortion. And she suddenly was struck with such agony and emptiness, that if she had instead chosen to carry the child to full term, she would be celebrating a 2nd birthday. Even if she had decided on adoption, somewhere, somehow a small child would be having a 2nd birthday. Her eyes mixed between bright with tears and deadened sadness. We talked, we sat together.

And I will never forget her grief.

And I think of those lovely women who have found themselves in such difficult situations where abortion is considered or pressured or freeing or wrenching...

And my heart aches and my arms long to reach out for each one of you.

No guilt, no politics. No.

Just most gentle arms to surround those shoulders,
and box of tissues.

I would not argue your most personal reasons for such a decision.
I would not pretend to lighten the load carried.

But I would listen.

And I could tell most tender details of how beautiful life looks when born fully ready at 9 months.

And, how beautiful and priceless a once-growing life looks at those halfway weeks.

And I would wonder.

Did you have tears, like mine?

How was your heart in those hours?

And I would whisper that

God is in it all.

Those babies who are not born alive.

I believe my God holds them

oh so softly and tenderly in His forever arms.

No matter the reasons for their early arrival in Heaven,

they are beloved and cherished.

I think of those beautiful women who go through an abortion procedure.

And I think of those women who go through a delivery procedure for a stillborn, my story.

...I do not know what it is like with an abortion,

how she is treated, how she recovers, how medical staff care for her during and after.

...I do know what it is like in the setting I was in.

And the soft kindness toward me, the support.
The hand held, safe to grieve.

...And I do not know what it is like to go home after an abortion. Whether what had happened was known to others, or not.

What kind of care, tenderness, kindness, love was given.

...I do know what it was like for me.

And in my wordless sorrow, or times I wanted to share, loved ones continued (continue) to show their concern and care and tenderness.

And God has been in it all.

Whether comfort comes from physical affections and support,

or whether feeling it when all is quiet and you are alone...

I pray, with all that is available in me,

that each and every woman who has been in or is going through these heavy decisions and hardest circumstances...

that she will feel God.

His presence, His forever love, His touch of acceptance and mercy.

When I was at my hardest points in those delivery days and beyond,

I would sometimes whisper "Jesus."

Or sometimes there were no words, not even that one.

But in those very worst times, I would feel a most gentle touch of affection, protection, presence, as real as if I could actually see it: Jesus' palm resting on my forehead.

Quietest, realest comfort. Beyond what any human could give me.

THAT is what I pray for those precious women, needing that same care.

Jesus.

...And I don't know what it's like for women who have gone through an abortion, whether they ever yearn for some kind of honor for that child who could not share life here on earth.

...But I do know for myself. The loss of the life we were expecting with our little one:

It has been honored and we have been given tangible evidences of that baby who could not share our life here on earth.

And these are physical comforts I wish I could pass on to those women who have sorrow over their abortion losses.