The other night I realized that I should still be pregnant...pregnant with a beautiful healthy baby boy. I should be big and round, getting ready to meet him and bring him home. My due date was June 18th...just one more day to go. I should have a fourth baby to care for, to hold, to love.
Livvy and Sammy should have another little baby brother to dote upon. Ben should be a big brother. They would have loved and cared for that little baby boy so much.
My heart hurt for the baby that should have been. Before I had a chance to dream for my baby, he was taken away. Since finding out about Noah at 13 weeks pregnant, I don't think I truly ever thought about what should have been. For some strange reason it hit me the other night. I cried and snuggled Noah's blanket. Tom held me.
I'm not sure how to reconcile my should's with God's plan. I know that He doesn't make mistakes. I know that His ways are perfect. I know that His ways are not my ways.
Whether it was God's desired will or His allowable will, it was His will that Noah had anencephaly and that he died. It's not like He's up there in heaven trying to come up with a plan B because something didn't go as He purposed. For as much as I don't really like God's will all the time, that it doesn't feel good a lot of the time, it's a much scarier thing to think of God not having control and Him fumbling around trying to figure out how to solve and work out a plan B "for good".
I'm trying to trust Him. Trust Him with my life, trust Him with my dreams, trust Him with my hurt.