Thanatos to Zoe 3.25.16

That first night was especially hard. Each time I woke up, I had to remember all over again that it was real, that my baby was “not compatible with life.” I wanted so badly to escape to a sweet dream, but the nightmare of reality kept me awake. At 5:30am when Cody woke up, I was so thankful to not be alone anymore.

We met with the specialist, Dr. G, at 7am for a consultation and amniocentesis. He asked us if we had any questions. We shook our heads no, still in disbelief. Cody asked if he had any ideas of diagnosis. The doctor rattled off a long word I couldn’t understand. I didn’t ask for clarification though, partly from shock and party because I saw the tech in the corner write it down on a post-it note.

Cody asked if it might be anything else. The doctor plainly said no.

He explained that this rare condition happens at conception in the very first cell, and imprints on each one thereafter. This causes bones not to develop properly throughout the body, not just the limbs. This condition is fatal ultimately because the tiny ribcage does not allow lungs to develop or breathing to be successful upon birth. I’m not sure I was breathing either as the specialist described this.

We left the office in a daze. On the drive home, I remembered the post-it note the tech had given me with our daughter’s diagnosis on it. I pulled it out of my purse and stared at it in disbelief. Written on that brightly colored square of paper were the words thanatophoric dysplasia. I felt an iron clamp come around my lungs as I gasped to Cody, “thanatos!”

One gift of a seminary education from Beeson is learning Biblical languages. I immediately recognized thanatos as the Greek word meaning death. Our daughter’s diagnosis included the word death. Even though we had been told she would die, seeing that word in a language I knew was more than I could bear.

Cody dropped me off at home and left for work. I sat alone under the weight of thanatos until my parents arrived. I cried. I prayed. I listened to Shane & Shane sing me the Psalms. I sat and stared out the window and wondered how the world was still going on as mine seemed to be standing still.

Sometime during that day, the Holy Spirit began stirring my soul. Though death--thanatos-- may be her diagnosis, though it may be what awaits her in this broken, sin-riddled world...it is life and wholeness that awaits her in Jesus. Thanatos may be her diagnosis, but her destiny in Christ is LIFE.

In light of this truth, we have named her Zoe Karis.  Zoe is Greek for life and Karis is Greek for grace. She truly is a gift from the Lord. A gift of life by grace. Every time we say her name, it is an act of hope. It is an act of victory over death. It is a proclaimation that Jesus conquered the grave for her, and for us.

That Friday, Good Friday, had a renewed meaning. It is not just that Jesus came to die on the cross to atone for my sins, but that he came to restore everything which sin has broken...even genetic abnormalities.

Oh friends, I hope you know that peace. The kind of peace that can say through the tears, “I do NOT understand why this is happening, but still I trust you, Father.” The pain is still very very real, but I am certain that Cody and I have experienced Christ's peace because many of you are praying for us. Please continue to pray for peace...that we might trust the WHO even when we don’t understand the WHY.