There is a great website for parents who lost babies called "A Glow in the Woods." I am not that articulate anymore about intense grief, I am not there anymore, but I stop by and read from time to time. Tonight I read such a great essay there, "Birthing a Dying Child"
http://www.glowinthewoods.com/home/2010/1/11/birthing-a-dying-child.html

This part is great:
"As expectant parents dream up their their ideal “birth plans,” young mothers describe their birthing experiences around water coolers or playground equipment, and well-wishers congratulate new parents on Facebook walls, the birthing experience is often closely linked to merit. The fewer the interventions, the longer the unmedicated labor, the more (or less) dramatic the coping with labor pain, the bigger the baby, the higher the Apgar scores, and so on, the more heroic the birthing woman. Anyone who believes machismo is a strictly male phenomenon should listen to newly minted mothers swap their birthing stories. The natural birth movement in particular and the contemporary North American culture of parenthood in general deemphasize the unavoidable fact that no matter how much a woman takes care of her body, knows her body and trusts her body, the birthing experience may go horribly wrong."

And this, as a Catholic I love this:
"Receptivity is a central motif in Mariology across Christian traditions. "Here I am, the servant of the Lord," says Mary in the first chapter of the Gospel of Luke as the birth of Jesus is foretold. "Let it be with me according to your word." Mary’s openness to the mysterious movement of God is her chief virtue and ours. But opening ourselves to that which is beyond ourselves is dangerous business. The possibility of parenthood is no exception. When a couple open themselves to reproduction, they also open themselves to the relentless pain of being unable to conceive, unable to give birth. A pregnant woman opens herself to being cruelly betrayed by her own body, to standing by helplessly while her child is betrayed by his or her own body. Opening oneself to giving birth is opening oneself to suffering and death-to managing debilitating handicaps, to burying one’s child, to being overcome with sadness at the mere sight of another parent doting on a healthy newborn. Opening oneself to giving birth is opening oneself to hell."


Being open to God's will is a huge part of my life and that's what gives me the strength to go on & be a parent to my living boys and be open to whatever plans God has for us. When I'm expecting a baby I don't care how old I am, I won't get the AFP, nuchal screen, CVS or amnio. All of my kids are equal, born or preborn. Anything really bad can be seen on ultrasound.

The essay also says this:
"Some Old Testament scholars define "lament" as the reaction to a belief-shattering experience. Even though I knew better, before I carried and birthed my daughter Cara I believed that if I did what was right, I could expect positive outcomes. This is my lament. Metaphysically speaking, I do not know why bad things happen. I do not know whether God wills them, merely allows them, cannot stop them or something else entirely. What I do know is that I am not fully the master of my own destiny and that one day I will again witness the birth of something beautiful."

I remember seeing people leave the hospital every day with healthy babies when I was stuck in there with Alistair, and I never did leave with him. Even in the worst days back then I knew one day that I would again experience the awesome feeling of leaving the hospital with a precious little person.