To know, or not to know... which one is better?

"You go before me and follow me. You place Your hand of blessing on my head. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too great for me to understand!"
~ Psalm 139:5,6

Day 50: My little bit of happy ~ a lovely lunch with friends... and a photography lesson!

Today I was talking to my dear friend Christina about a blogger friend, Stephanie, who is carrying her daughter to term despite a fatal prenatal diagnosis. Stephanie will not see her daughter grow up, and though she has made it to 39 weeks she is not expected to survive long after birth if she is born alive. Baby Amelia is already a miracle though, as she was not supposed to make it this far!

As I have followed Stephanie's pregnancy, and Amelia's life, in the weeks since losing Caleb I have wondered if it would be preferable to have those weeks to "prepare" yourself mentally and emotionally for the coming loss of your child. Really it's such a preposterous question.

For one thing, how can one call such a thing preferable?! Yet death is an absolute, and it will come at God's appointed time. He alone knows the exact day and hour, for He planned it from the begining. That being as it is, I wonder if it would be better to know in advance that your unborn child was going to die or if it is better to live blissfully unaware until the awful moment comes?

Secondly, it is impossible to prepare yourself mentally or emotionally for the death of a child. Even when you've walked that lonely road before there is just no way to know how it will feel when the time comes to give birth to that child. You don't know until you actually walk that road how hard it will be to try to pack a life time of memories into the few hours that your child spends in your arms. You don't know until you hold your son or daughter's lifeless form in your arms what it means to watch death take over their tiny frame. There is no such thing as preparation.

You simply brace yourself. And in both situations, you collapse spent into Jesus arms and let Him carry you through and hold you up.

I've decided that each has it's own blessings and it's own curses.

Stephanie's blessing is the bumps, rolls, and hiccups. Her daughter will be big enough to wrap up inside her arms. Her body will not be as touched by the affects of death.

I on the other hand do not have to live with the worries, the fears, and the dread. Each day of my pregnancy up until that fateful day we were blissfully unaware and were able to enjoy each day to the fullest.

The journeys are different, but the destination is the same. We've both had the rug yanked out from under us. We are both grieving the loss of not only our children but all the dreams we had for them. In the end we will have the same sleepless nights, the same night mares, the same hormone fluctuations, the same emptiness, the same instincts to care for our babies.

But most importantly we serve the same God. The God who knows our hearts and hurts over our sorrows. The God who made our children for HIS purpose and will use their short lives to profoundly touch this world. The God who says, don't look at the waves... the waves will drown you. Keep your eyes on Me... don't look away, not for a moment, and I promise I'll keep you from drowning in your pain.