“I don’t know what to do!” I sobbed, the words almost unintelligible through the tears and anguish.
My husband and I were sitting in the car outside of the doctor’s office where we’d just been told our baby would die.
The doctor had offered us the option to terminate, which we’d declined. But I’d wondered if it was the right decision, or even if there was a right decision.
“You’re doing the right thing,” my husband said, his hand gripping mine.
And he was right.
I wasn’t going to be able to save my baby, but I could take care of him as long as his heart was beating within my womb. And that’s just what I did. I carried him for as long as God had allowed.
My choices weren’t going to change the final outcome. My baby’s heart would stop and mine would break. But I did the best I could with what I had – with the information and time I’d been given.
I held onto my baby for as long as possible, and I loved. And that was going to have to be enough.
Such is motherhood.
I can’t count the number of times I’ve said the same thing over the years about the babies that I’ve been given the chance to raise.
“I don’t know what to do.”
Heck, even about dinner.
There are endless decisions to make, many small, but some life-changingly big. And many times, not one of the options is a particularly good one.
But I, WE, do the best we can with what we’ve been given in each circumstance.
We pray. We love. We take care of their hearts in the best way we know how.
We do the best we can with what we have. And even when the outcome isn’t what we wanted, sometimes our love just has to be enough.
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