My Son Grew a Brain: Part 8 (the final installment!)

It is well with my soul…..and my son’s brain

I love that God consistently seeks us. When I didn’t want anything to do with him, His presence was so heavy that I could not ignore it. When I blamed Him for not intervening, He reminded me that this life is not the end. When I came to the end of myself, He assured me that Jesus, my priceless treasure, is the only thing that I need for the “good life”….and that the “good life” doesn’t always mean joy, fulfillment, or happiness.

But sometimes….sometimes….it does mean joy. Pure unfiltered joy that causes massive dancing and singing in the streets.

As my husband and I drove to the ultrasound doc for the 2nd time, I was excited. I fully expected the doctor to confirm that our little guy still was missing a brain and that he would indeed die within hours of being born. But, still, I was glad that I would be getting another conformation.

You see, people I respected and loved were believing for a miracle. I wanted to have the ability to tell them – NO, THERE IS NO MIRACLE… stop your stupid hope because it hurts me. Our little guys is going to be born, we are going to hold him, kiss his little flat head, take pictures with him and give him to Jesus. And that is going to be ok. No longer did I want to die along with him. Instead, I wanted to live in spite of the pain that our family was going to go through. I was going to choose to be a testament to the fact that God meets us in our pain and picks us up out of the muck and mire of depression and self-loathing. And I was going to choose that every morning…every hour….even if I didn’t feel like it.

As I lay on the table waiting for the doctor to come in, my husband and I didn’t talk much. There was really nothing left to say at this point. There wasn’t even anything left to cry about, really. It was going to be what it was going to be….and we were
“ready” for it.

Or so we thought.

The doctor came in and said some pleasantries and started the ultrasound. As he began to look at our little Aaron guy, he got quiet. He looked at the chart, looked back at the screen, and left the room. I immediately decided that our little guy was dead. I thought my mind must have been playing tricks on me when I saw him moving his little arms….he’s obviously dead. And that’s ok. It’ll kind of be easier this way.

The doctor came back in and started the ultrasound back up and looked intently at the screen in complete silence.

Finally, he spoke:

“Your baby was diagnosed with anencephaly, right?”

“Yes” we said.

“Well, there is nothing wrong with this child.”

He showed us his perfectly rounded head….there was something above the eyebrows. And it was a brain. A BRAIN.

Laughter. Unbelief. Awe.

Jeremy grabbed my hand and I laid back on the table a closed my eyes. Tears stung in my eyes and then rolled down my cheeks as I sat up and looked again at the ultrasound. My little Aaron guy. He was going to make it.

I strongly believe that the devil tried to take Aaron out of the equation before he had a chance to show Jesus to this world. I am so blessed to be able to tell this story to you guys. I get to tell complete strangers on the park bench that my God is the God of miracles. That I’ve turned away from God in silent depression but while I cut myself off from Him, He never left me. That there are times when I couldn’t speak to Him out of anger and guilt but, during those times, my friends and family lift me up to the heavens and that MEANS something.

The best truth of all that I learned from this trial is that even if this miracle didn’t happen, Jesus would still have been enough for me to make it in this life with a child that was going to die in my arms after I carried him inside of me for 40 weeks.

There are times I forget that this is my story. But then, as I am rubbing Aaron’s back at night as he falls asleep, my hand travels up into his hair and over the brain that God granted to my child. And I am brought right back to that prayer meeting where the God Who Sees Me overwhelmed my broken heart with His healing presence.

Yes, my son grew a brain. And in the process my life has been covered in a blanket of truth so powerful that, even when I actively try to shake it, it does not leave me. God has given me the gift of belief and faith and for that, I am eternally grateful.


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