Chris and I went for our first doctor’s appointment since we had heard the news about Malia’s anencephaly. We entered the office after a sleepless night and we were both very nervous because I had not felt the baby move in several days.
After an ultrasound, we found out that Malia had no heartbeat; she was very small and she was not moving. We were crushed. Immediately, we began crying and couldn’t stop thinking that we weren’t ready for this — not yet. We thought we would have at least three more months to carry her, read to her, go on excursions with her, and simply live life as a family greater than two.
However, the reality was she had died.
We would not meet her lively self here on earth, but we could only trust that she is in good hands, the best hands possible.
Over the next two days, we cried a lot, Chris wrote a lot, we baked, prayed a lot, had family visit, went to church, and prepared for the hospital. We bought a blue whale stuffed animal that we had planned on putting in Malia’s whale-themed nursery and a small lavender baby blanket.
This season was a short chapter in Malia’s life, sort of like in one of those ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’ books. I would have chosen a much different page to turn to next, but the Lord ended up choosing differently. It’s hard to imagine that His choice was better, but it is also hard to argue with the One who writes the ultimate story.