Friday, July 25, 2008


This morning is Abigail's renal ultrasound. There is no guarantee that anything will show up in the pictures to give reason for her last UTI. (I realize I need an update about that. It will come.)

I go into ultrasounds with abject fear. The kind that gnaws at your stomach and creates monsters in your head. Unreasoning and unreasonable.

Without word that day in 2004 creeps in haunting me. The day we found out our dear son would not live long if he lived to delivery. The day organs were found floating in amniotic fluid instead of encased safely in bone and skin. The day we had a name--Limb-Body Wall Complex Abnormalities. The day we had a statistic-1:15,000.

This morning I write as I wait to wake Abigail. Forgetting God's hand of grace and blessing that she is, I fight the fear that ultrasound grows in me and I wonder about and miss my son. Looking at the pictures of her that hang on the wall around my desk, I am nagged by the fear that today's pictures are about to reveal something awful, that she too will soon be a hope and a dream and a memory.

It doesn't make a bit of sense. I am completely aware of that fact. Could someone tell my heart? I wonder, when I am old will ultrasounds continue to grab me with fear?


  1. My heart aches for you. We will pray for God's peace this morning, and that the Dr.'s will be able to see clearly what is going on.

  2. Oh Sara. I understand your fears. I will be praying for you and for sweet Abagail this morning.

    I went to an OB appointment last month...just a yearly check-up. But once I got undressed and in to the hospital gown, I started having a panic attack and all the memories of twenty days in the hospital with Polly came rushing back.

    God is good. You know that. But I think your fears make perfect sense and the only thing you can do is just keep giving them back to God.

    I am sorry for your hurt.


  3. My heart also aches just to think of your son's loss, and I have prayed for you to find peace and tranquility when you think of him. God is good, but the pain and the fear you are feeling is real. Keep trying, keep living, and God will show you the way. He gave you Abigail, and I am sure that He will allow your blessing to remain in your life.
    Update as soon as you get the results!!

  4. Hi,

    I found this blot after searching the term "limb body wall complex."

    I lost my daughter, Beatrix Elizabeth, to LBWC , on Dec. 13, 2010.

    I would love to hear about your son. My email is: