The most important thing my husband and I needed to know was that our baby did not have Hailey's syndrome. We were so incredibly thankful and overjoyed when we found out this pregnancy is in the clear. It's interesting to me...when the genetic counselor first talked to us about the syndrome and told us the odds for future pregnancies were risky, I expected her to say they were 50/50 or worse. When she told us it was a 25% chance with each pregnancy, I thought, well, that isn't so bad! I mean, of course you hope the bad odds are as low as possible and I sure would have appreciated them being even lower...but I thought, my tender, aching heart can brave a 75% success rate of a healthy baby.
We hoped for the best. We tried to take nothing for granted. I prayed the Lord wouldn't ask me to give up two children in a row. Sadly, I've heard of others who, even with 1 in 4 odds like us, still have borne multiple effected pregnancies in a row. My heart aches for these folks. Finding out this baby was healthy was such a gift, and I prayed my thanks to the Lord, and to Hailey. And then we settled in to wait the few additional days it would take us to hear back about the chromosomal analysis, which would reveal something like Down Syndrome, as well as the gender of the baby. I reminded my husbanded we still needed to pray that this child be protected from any of the more common anomalies that could still occur, and my husband knew I was also praying that baby #3 was a girl.
It isn't that I don't love having a son or wouldn't want another one. The most important thing to me is the baby's health. But selfishly, and for the sake of my own grieving process, I thought my life would be a lot harder if I only had a daughter in Heaven, and not here on Earth. I still have all of the beautiful baby girl clothes I had hoped to dress Hailey in, and the dreams of fostering a close mother and daughter relationship like the one I have with my Mom (and now, my mother-in-law as well). I also knew one of the hardest things for my husband in losing Hailey was how he had looked forward to someday being a mess on her wedding day, as he walked her down the aisle to give her away. I wanted that for him, too. So every night, I lay in bed and fell asleep clasping the necklace around my neck with Hailey's name on it, praying she had picked out the perfect sibling.
The day before we moved to Georgia, I went in to the hospital for my final ultrasound with the high-risk doctors. Everything on the baby looked great, and it just so happened they had the results of the chromosomal analysis. All normal...AND...WE ARE HAVING ANOTHER GIRL!!!! I was so happy and thankful, I jumped out of the chair and hugged the genetic counselor, tears in my eyes. I couldn't get out of there fast enough to get home to tell my husband. Perhaps I should have had her write it down so I could find out the gender together with him, but I wanted to do something special to give him a big reveal, no matter whether it was a boy or a girl.
In the midst of our house being a mess, and the movers walking in and out to load all of our belongings on to the moving van, I gave my husband a giant gift bag. I made up some backstory/excuse about how it was a present for the Army program he was set to graduate from the following day before we hit the road to Georgia. But once he opened it, out floated a handful of pink balloons! He was as overjoyed as I was, and we both held each other, laughing and feeling completely blessed.
And then...we both felt kind of sad. And maybe a little bit guilty. We were so overjoyed to be having a healthy baby girl, but then felt like we needed Hailey to know we didn't love her any less because she hadn't been a healthy baby girl. Both of these emotions still war within me at times. I feel like this healthy baby girl is such a gift from Hailey (and God!), and I want her to know I don't take her for granted. I know I couldn't have done more for Hailey, but I still find myself wishing I could have held her a little bit longer, showed her even more love. I will spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of her and the gifts she helped bestow upon us.
I will admit, a few days later, when we arrived in Georgia and the moving van pulled up in front of our house to unload everything, I had a bit of a hard time. I'd done fine in Kansas as I'd watched all of Hailey's things being packed up, but watching them get carried into our new home made me cry. I don't know why, and am grateful the movers were incredibly kind about me being a little bit of a mess.
Now, as I walk through the upstairs and unpack boxes and put things away, I wonder what I will be able to face again, and what will be too hard. I LOVE the carseat we picked out for Hailey. It was brightly colorful and she only ever rode in it a handful of times. But one of those times was to the children's hospital emergency room, from which she never got to leave. That carseat sat empty in the backseat of my minivan for weeks, with the long-forgotten swaddle blanket stained with the funny color puke that sent us scrambling.
Those swaddle blankets...all the clean ones, anyway...I'm not sure I can use them again. There are certain items I more closely associate with Hailey. I think I can find my way to use the carseat again, but I think those brightly colored, beautiful pink swaddle blankets might be a bridge too far. She never got to wear too many of her clothes, so those are mostly okay...and my husband thinks Hailey might appreciate having her little sister wear some of her hand-me-downs. That thought made me smile a little.
As for the burp cloths we made by hand...I don't think I could part with those. And even though Hailey never spent a single night in her nursery, we made her bedding by hand as well. I'm still not sure I can reuse it. Not because I associate it so much with Hailey while she was actually alive, but because I link it in my mind to what now feels like the naive joy with which I labored over every detail of my first daughter's nursery. To be reminded of that hope and excitement...without knowing the awful sorrow that lay ahead of us...is often just too hard for me to think about.
So I guess all of this is a new stage of grief...having to go through Hailey's belongings...relive the past and the emotions attached to them, and try to figure out how to keep moving forward. Today, I found joy in the fact that since we are no longer living in on-post housing but rather a house we bought, I get to paint the nursery! My husband isn't convinced on the color yet, but he is humoring me. It's navy blue and he thinks it is too dark, but I told him it'd make the white furniture and the brightly-colored decor POP in a very cheerful way.
In closing, I don't want anything in this post to reflect that we aren't completely grateful to be having a healthy baby. What I am trying to show is that grief is complicated, and that even when you receive the most joyous news you ever could pray for, the grief still finds a way in. I've found that happiness and sadness are not mutually exclusive, but can live alongside each other in your heart. And that it is okay.
Once again, with love and gratitude.
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