There are times to celebrate life and all its joys and blessings and a time to mourn the trials and heartaches that life throws at us. Today is a day to mourn the death of two of our most precious dreams. The death of being a doctor and of being parents to a baby girl.
Four weeks ago, Brydon was asked to interview at PCOM, a DO school here in Philly. We were so excited at the prospect of Brydon truly being able to become a doctor. He had excellent recommendations and even an inside pull, and it felt like it was truly an answer to our prayers. Every blessing and promise to be a physician was truly going to happen. The interview was tough but we felt like he had given it his all. He let them know that he could do this program and that he truly was qualified to be a physician someday. However, one week later as he returned home alone from visiting family, a rejection letter waited for him. The final NO. Now after two years of attempts to get into medical school, the dream has died. Shortly after we were married we began the process of working to get accepted to medical school. We have spent 6 1/2 years dreaming, planning, and working toward that goal. And now we have decided it is over. Brydon would have been an amazing doctor. His patients would have loved him and he would have touched so many lives for good. I always thought of how handsome he would look in the white coat and how I would love to hear the good, the bad, and the ugly stories of a physician's adventures. I couldn't wait to see him come home from doing something he truly loved. And so today we mourn the loss of that dream. There will be no handsome, man in a white coat saving lives.
Recently Brydon and I were approached by a family to adopt their baby. This not an option we had planned for right now in our lives. We knew the timing wasn't the best and the funds would be really hard to find, but we felt that it could be the answer to our prayers. Since we had tried all other options to have another baby, we thought this might be what we needed to do. We met with the birth parents and decided that they had a true sincere desire to give this baby girl a better life. The girl was due to arrive August 17th and we were working to move forward to be prepared for the expected arrival. Today as we were driving home from meeting with the adoption agency, we received a call that told us the baby had died. The mother had become ill and went into early labor. Doctors couldn't stop the contractions and a perfect, small 22 week old baby girl was born. She took a breath and then passed away. Her body was just not ready for this world yet. My heart aches for the poor birth mother that has been through so much in her short life. I can't imagine going through such an experience. And we mourn the passing of a baby girl that we had dreamed could have been ours. There will be no little girl in our home.
I read this quote today that sums up a lot of how these experiences have felt. I changed it a bit.
"Death. Death of a lot of things. The end of the Manning family as we had pictured 7 years ago. Death before life...before we even know our child, because she never existed. The hardest part of this kind of death is the fact that it is the death of a dream. There are no solid memories, no pictures, no things to remember. You can't remember your child's blonde hair or brown eyes, or her favorite toys or the way she laughed, or the way it felt to be pregnant with her. She never existed. There is no funeral, no burial, no grave to lay flowers on. The couple often grieves alone."
