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26.2 miles to go.

At our 18 week ultrasound we learned we were having a baby girl. Per usual, everyone asked "Do you want a boy or a girl?" and we'd always reply with "Oh, we just want a healthy baby." While Brad was telling his whole truth, I was only telling my half-truth. In addition to a healthy baby, I totallllllly wanted a girl - there, I've published it for the world (my Mom) to see. 

The ultrasound was mostly uneventful until they were trying to capture images of Elliott's face. She would not show them her face, kept turning to hide it. After multiple attempts the tech was finally able to capture a few pictures. I remember in that moment thinking that the images looked a bit off but I chalked it up to just how insane it is to take pictures of a human inside of another human........INSANE. Lots of layers, lots of fluid - so it's no glamour shots, I get it. 

While waiting in my Doctor's office to make sure the ultrasound was all good, we beamed and talked about all the things our baby girl would be. Part of conceiving a child, something I didn't learn until having one, is that in addition to their physical bodies being created, we {future parents} create the child in our heads and our hearts long before we meet them. I built her with my imagination - how she would look, how she would act. My imaginary daughter would be curious, a good reader and have great calves like her Dad. She would be witty, creative and kind, she would like to dance, be a good cook and have my smile... 

My Doctor walked in. Offered the standard greetings and hugs, then she asked Brad to stand by me and hold my hand (looking back - this was the first terrifying handhold of so many where Brad and I braced each other for the impact to ensue). She said something to the effect of, "Your baby girl has a cleft lip and likely a cleft palate too. This is the most common birth defect and is easily repaired. I know this is hard to hear but be glad it's not something scary like only having one lung or organs on the outside." I remember feeling nauseous - not the pregnancy kind of nauseous I was already feeling - but a different kind. I started to cry. She held my other hand and continued with something that has stuck with me to this day - "It's the death of the baby you thought you had and you have to mourn that loss." At the time, this sounded so strange and somewhat morbid but it later became very clear just how right she was.

Parents, whether they had healthy kids or kids with "stuff going on" as I say, can attest to the whole mourning the loss of the child they thought they had. Sometimes the loss of our imaginary children happens in routine checks during pregnancy, sometimes it happens during an at birth diagnosis, or, more often than not, it happens slowly over time as our children grow up. The children we bore in our flesh, do not live up to the children we bore in our minds. This is not a bad thing - quite the opposite. The beauty of the imaginary loss (should we choose to accept it) is the emergence of the child we never knew we had. They shine and grow and morph into the wondrous human being they were intended, destined to be - not the human being we intended them to be. They are so much more. I watch Elliott reveal herself more and more each day and have yet to been disappointed by the baby girl she was destined to become. So she doesn't have my smile, who cares... her smile is better. Plus, there is still a chance at her getting Brad's legs! *fingers crossed* In the same day, in a matter of hours, my imaginary daughter was designed and deleted - never to be seen again. 

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My Doctor suggested we run some tests just to make sure there wasn't anything else going on with our baby girl. She said cleft lips/palates are not usually linked with other issues, but we should go ahead and check to make sure there isn't anything else we should be preparing for...

I cried all the way from my Doctors office, down to the lab to get my blood drawn and to the car where I really let it rip. Sobbing. We are talking uncontrollably, where you have to remind yourself to inhale, where snot and tears come together and run into your mouth but you are so broken you don't care at all about how gross that truly is. Sobbing hysterically in the car and being more angry at God than I'd ever been angry at anyone. If I had only known then what I know now, I don't think I would've sobbed that hard. I would've saved those tears and the rage for my maker for later use. Learning of Elliott's cleft lip was merely the first step in a marathon I didn't know that I signed up for, and one for which I certainly hadn't trained. (oh and PS - I hate running.)

You know the old question "If you could have a super power, what would it be?" Most folks will rightfully choose something cool like flying or the ability to be invisible. Me? I want immediate hindsight. Hindsight is the understanding of an event only after it has happened - typically long after it has happened. Hindsight is said to be 20/20 and offers extreme clarity. Gimmie. Gimmie now.   

In the introduction of the book "The Lucky Few" by Heather Avis, there is a paragraph that sings to my soul: 

"Like every woman I've met, I wanted healthy children, because healthy seems easier; healthy seems normal; healthy seems nice. What I did not know then is that ease and normalcy and niceness are not as important to Jesus as obedience, perseverance, and sacrifice. I didn't know then that easy and normal and nice would do little to build my character or make me a better and more complete human being." 

The first time I read this paragraph I stopped breathing, momentarily. I was stunned by these words and felt they were written to me, for me. I want to feel the way this woman does - but I don't. I want to know that there is purpose to the pain, healing in the hardship, strength in the struggle. I want to feel the way this woman does - but I don't, yet.

With all of my heart, I hope to look back on this journey and say to myself  'Ah, this is why'. In the meantime, if you need me, I'll be waiting for my super power to kick in. 

Until the nexT21,

Aubrey