The Battle With Grief

February 27, 2015
2:58am 2.12 lbs 15 inches
Albuquerque, New Mexico

we went out to find a beautiful white blanket of fresh snow on the yard that no one had touched. It was the most peaceful, comforting feeling I had ever felt before. Just about 24 hours prior I was giving birth to you, and now I was looking up into the skies to you. We just sat and enjoyed the moment that God had given us. It felt like time just stood still and the world had stopped just for us.

Oliver’s Journal

This is a narrative right out of Oliver’s journal. I enjoy journaling. Each of my kids have journals that I start during pregnancy. I document their life, the milestones and the memories I don’t ever want to forget. It has been nice to go back and look at the things they have done and the things that God has done. I wanted to quote my journal because I talked about this in my last post. God gave us his comfort and continued to show Himself to us through His design. As we come upon the week of Oliver’s birthday I generally look back and read through his journal. Yes, it makes me sad because not a day goes by that I don’t have the thought of wishing he was here with us. He is my child, I prayed for him long ago. And long before that God knew He would give him to me. He knew what the story would be and prepared my life for this season and continues now after it.

Never did I imagine that this would be a chapter in my book. That I would have to deal with grief on such an intimate level. That I would have to make life and death decisions for my child. Throughout the progression of our pregnancy we were constantly going to appointments two to three times a week. Seeing Perinatologist’s, Pediatric Cardiologist’s, Neonatologist’s, Genetic Counselors, Support Counselors, Hospice Care nurses so many different people I could not keep up half the time. Some days we got hope, and some days we got crushed worse than before. It was an up and down battle. Good news, bad news hoping that one of these visits would give us the miracle we had been praying for. Everyday I prayed for God to give me a miracle. To use us as a family to see His favor and blessings over us and to miraculously do His thing in Oliver. Heal his body, make liars of the doctors and overcome all the statistics they were putting on him. These are some of the prayers I had.

Oliver had a condition called Trisomy 18, Edwards Syndrome. Each of us have 23 pairs of chromosomes. One from the male and the other from the female. When an extra chromosome is added to the DNA strand, in his case on the 18th pair it disrupts the normal pattern of development in significant ways that can be life threatening, even before birth (www.trisomy18.org). A Trisomy 18 error occurs in about 1/2500 pregnancies (4%) in the United States, and 1/6000 actually have live births (1.6%). Only 50% of babies who are carried to term will be born alive, and baby girls have a higher rate of live births than baby boys (www.trisomy18.com). From the start of this journey the odds were stacked against us. It was tough listening to so many opinions. We processed what was said to us. We went to God for discernment and clarity, then made a decision we felt was best for our situation, for our family and our baby boy. But like I mentioned in my previous post, Signs Are All Around Us God was always there and was constantly reminding us that He knew what was happening saying to us,I got you.

We had to deal with many hurtles not just with Oliver, but with our emotions as well. When we walked into a new office or saw a different sonographer and they read our chart there was this look we always got, this sad poor you pitiful look. I despised it so much. Isaac was much better at handling it then I did. All it did was remind me that things were terribly wrong and there was nothing I could do. That was very hard for me. I was always in control of what was happening in my life. That could have been the problem, I was always in control.

At some point in the pregnancy I became numb to the things that was going on around me. I had to rely on Isaac to translate to me what the doctors were saying, or what the sonographer was showing. I felt like I had tunnel vision. All I was focused on was creating the best environment for my baby to live and survive. I was trying to live in peace, to live without fear and trust in God. But every time someone asked me about my pregnancy, what I was having or how excited I was, I wanted to scream! I was living everyday with a constant battle of thinking is he going to live another day, or is this the day? And it is no fault to them at all. We kept this situation very private. Only our family and close friends knew what was going on with us (this is the first time I have opened up and told my story in detail of Oliver).

There are so many things I want to say about our story about how God showed up. In the times I thought He was not near, He was. I thought He had forgotten about me, but He didn’t. I asked the question, why, so many times. I prayed for a miracle, for healing. During the commotion of things I didn’t know what was up or down. I thought at one point God had failed me. He didn’t do what I believed He should have, what I prayed for and what I desperately wanted. But through the pain I gained more than I thought possible. I had to choose to win the battle every single day. Grief is a feeling and also a choice. As unfair of a situation I was in, I had to choose life over death. Not just for my son but for me and for my family. Overcoming the wickedness of grief is hard, but through the process I saw God carry me through it. I saw the beauty that came from the ashes. I had to choose to live life instead of staying stuck in my sorrows. In doing that I realized that God did answer my prayers.

Oliver Varela was part of the 1.6% who had a live birth and was part of the better 50% and born alive. That day I had so much support and support from people I didn’t even know I needed. I had a group of women praying for me the entire time during my labor. They were at the hospital in the room next to mine. They weathered the snow storm just to be with Isaac and me. The nursing staff was amazing and were there fighting with us the entire way. At 2:58am on Friday February 27, 2015 little Oliver Varela plopped out into this world and was placed in my arms with a snot bubble coming out of his nose. We got to meet him, we got to hold him, we got to change him, we got to feed him, we bathed him, we had the most precious moments with him. This sweet boy was such a chatter box like his daddy. He talked with us the entire time. And for the hours to come, they were so precious and will always be cherished in our hearts. As we looked out the window in the moments after you passed away, the snow was falling. I know that God welcomed you with arms wide opened. You received a new heart and were immediately taken care of by the best caretaker there is.

There are so many things I could be mad at throughout this entire situation. But what good would that have done? Only cause more pain, sadness and bitterness into my life. I would still be frail and unable to walk in the fullest life that God has for me. As I continue to read my journal I see little notes that I left for myself that are comforting even while written during the hardest days of my life. But now a year later I see what God was doing during that time. We needed to know what peace felt like. I needed to undestand that God is in control. I needed to truly rely on His word. I needed to truly submit all of me to Him. I was broken of course, and this journey didn’t end the day you died. It is an everyday battle. Grief is a process. There is no correct formula for how to deal with great loss.

I prayed for the doctors to be wrong, and guess what they were. Oliver beat the statistics. I prayed that he would be healed and he was. While I had not understood how at the time, I do now. He may not have been healed on this side of heaven, but he was instantly healed the moment he entered into God’s kingdom. It is still hard and the anniversaries of him are not easy, but we have learned to celebrate what we had with him. While I wish I could watch him blow out his candles and throw him an amazing super hero party, and buy him all the special things he deserves, I still get to celebrate him.

Every year we take a trip. We take the day and celebrate him together as a family. We buy balloons, we pray, we release them up into the skies and remember the boy who helped save my life. God gives us the strength that we need, the people we need, and the words that we need. He is constantly showing up. Through him God peeled away the scales on my eyes and gave me new perspective, compassion and a true realization that God turns all things together for good. He does not take away from us, but gives us new life. Through the grief I have been given new life. I tell this story all to say, we all have battles. None of them may look the same, but don’t think you are forgotten. God has someone for you to help through your situation. I believe there is a purpose to the pain. He will give you a breakthrough during your grief. Keep pushing, new life is coming.