Goodbye: I Choose Life, Not Perfection

“We should really talk about this,” Justin said.  I had told him that he was right about the Down Syndrome diagnosis. So we agreed that he would come to my job and speak about next steps. I had already expressed my interest in counseling classes so that I would be best prepared during pregnancy and beyond. I was open to hear what he thought about it. When he arrived, he sat down on the conference table, pulled me into him hugging me tightly after reading the 96% genetic testing diagnosis sheet I had given him. He had never quite done that before, so I was curious now.  He pushed me back to look into my eyes and asked,  You know I love you right?  I replied, “Yes….,” of course. So, I knew what he was about to say next would be uncomfortable for him to say.

   “We can start over, babe. Now that we know you can conceive. It’s best that we show him mercy instead of have him suffering his whole life.” Oh God, I did not see that coming. A whole boulder just rolled down the hill and smashed my heart. I saw the man that I had loved just casually speak death over our brand new

little baby boy. All of a sudden, I didn’t know who stood in front of me spiritually, but I saw horns and claws and couldn’t help but pull away immediately. “Oh,” came out of my mouth as I felt warm tears fall from my eyes down my cheeks. The complete understanding of what he was actually saying was not of God. I remember thinking, “Who is this guy? How could I have not known, all this time?’

‘So, you’re wanting me to terminate this pregnancy then intentionally try again to have another?’ “Yes,” he responded.

   I had no words, just silent tears at how the blow hit so nonchalantly but woke me up from the dream that we would be a family navigating this journey together. “I didn’t miscarry. He is meant to be here,” were all I could get out before I heard my next client come into the clinic. I was so taken off guard by this visit that I couldn’t pull it together to present a professional engagement with my client. I had to rush into the bathroom to wash my face and postpone my feelings, out of respect for my client’s time. After awhile I heard Justin let himself out.

   I felt like death was the devil’s agenda for my son. Over the course of the last 3 days, the words shame, rejection and death were offered to my heart. The only way I could be present in the moment with my client was to talk to God. “Lord, I know you speak life over this baby, so…Goodbye devil: I Choose Life, Not Perfection.”