Unprepared

I've just returned home form dropping my older kids off with dad for some much needed bonding time, my littlest is in his crib taking an afternoon nap. I was planning on settling in for a nap of my own but came online to check on a friend...

She is around 17 weeks pregnant and had an irregular test and was going in for genetic testing and a high level ultrasound today.

Just hearing her retelling of the day elicited a strange reaction in me and I am now suitably unsettled enough to not be able to take my nap. I want to pick up the phone and call all of my wonderful friends for comfort but at the same time I want to hide in the darkness of my bedroom and scream and thrash and cry.

The memories of Eden fade a little each day, I only knew my daughter for 36 short hours. But the memories of the day I was told that she would die, that I should end her life without ever getting a chance to say good bye... those memories are crisp and clear.

I want to say no one should ever have to go through that, but I feel like to say that discounts what God did through it.

Right now I am feeling it all anew. It's like the last year has vanished and I am right back there. And in some ways it hurts more because I know how the story ends. I know the answer to my pleading is met with a quiet, and heartbroken, no.

I see Him. I have such an image of my heavenly father weeping as He leaves the little body of my Eden unfinished. As He turns His head to say no. I see Him as his tears roll down His face looking at my heartbreak. Knowing His plan will hurt me in places I didn't even know hurt could dwell... What must it be to know you are doing what needs to be done, but know it will break the heart of your very child. Not to break the heart in discipline but to allow it to break for the furthering of a plan they might never see fully.

I wonder if I seem foolish to some, to turn my hurt and heartbreak over to the very one who allowed it in the first place? But where else would I ever find comfort? I can find no comfort but from He who has walked this road... God himself had to deny His own hearts cry and allow for the ultimate pain of watching His only son, not just die, but be beaten and abused by the very people He was laying His life down for.

My God and My Jesus are the only comfort.

Pray for my friend...her news was full of great joy...Twin girls...and great angst... they are sharing a sac and entangled in such a way as to make carrying them to term very dangerous.

Simple words

I want to be profound here today. I want to write words that will move you to your very core...that will gird up the faith of the faithful and turn the unbeliever to Jesus.

I want to chronicle the vast changes in myself, my husband, my family, my friends, and even my church that have come about in the journey of carrying and losing my beautiful daughter.

I want to pour out my very soul, wrapped in the love and protection of my perfect savior...

But really, I am just here to sit and remember. To let the tears flow in this place while I try to recapture what it was to love her in person. To hold her tiny and imperfect body in my arms for 36 short hours. To kiss her cheek and watch her slip into the arms of Jesus. to be so fully enveloped by the supernatural that the tragedies of the natural world seemed a million miles away even as they unfolded inches from my face.

I am a little hurt that there are people who think it's time for me to move on, and eternally grateful for those who remember with me. Who are still moved and hurting for me. Who don't expect or hope for this to ever "go away".

How beautiful and wonderful it will be to see my little one again someday... To have the immeasurable joy of seeing not only the savior of my very soul, but seeing Him holding my sweet girl. To be reunited with one I knew so briefly but loved so fully.

I miss my daughter and can't imagine that it's only been 5 months that I have carried the ache that longs to hold her again...