Opening Up The Box... Among Other Things

I have written before about two special boxes that I have in my home - they contain memories of my lost babies and some of the things that have come into my life because of them. Today I opened one of the boxes as I reminisced about June 24th four years ago. That is the day that my little one left its home in my body to go to its eternal home in heaven. I looked at the little sonogram photo, I ran my finger across the video tape that documents that a baby was in fact here - living inside of me, I held the tiny jar of Gerber sweet potatoes that Corey brought home from the grocery store on the day that we got a positive pregnancy test, I read cards that had come attached to flowers from friends and looked over the dozens of other cards and e-mails that I received, I ran my finger across the business card from the funeral home where we took our tiny one, and I read my journal.

All of this is therapeutic for me. I need to go there sometimes. Not often, but I need to recall certain things at certain times, and today was one of those times. I need to remember this thing that defines me. I once heard that someone said that we should not be defined by our tragedy, but I have to disagree... If we are defined and refined by it, I think that it could be the biggest tool that the Lord uses to use us. For me, I pray that that is the case... or will be someday.  My losses have definitely impacted me more than some that endure the same thing, but I am so thankful to God for my little ones that changed my life. I am new because of them. For that, I love them - and Him - even more.

So today I remember --- 

Four years ago, yesterday, I had hope. We had seen a heartbeat on a sonogram screen, and my doctor told me that despite the bleeding, once they saw a heartbeat there is a "less than 5% chance of miscarriage". Sadly, I was the less than 5%.  Hope soon became elusive.

When I miscarried, I was at home - just me and Jack, who was 4 at the time and oblivious to all that was going on around him. I ran to the phone, hysterically called Corey at work, and screamed into it that I was holding my baby in my hand. In his confusion, he hung his phone up, and miraculously - there is not another word for it - my friend, Elizabeth, happened to be on the line. She happened to be calling me just as I was disconnected from Corey. She said, "I'll be right there." My friend, Jennifer, happened to call a matter of seconds after that. Truly, this is a miracle. I have never had people "happen to call me" at just the right moment like they did that day any other time in my life. In a matter of moments, both of my dear friends were at my house as I waited for my husband to arrive from his job 45 minutes away, my sister, Sara, was on her way from out of town, and my friend, Jenny, who had a newborn was at my door picking up my little Jack and taking him to my friend, Stacy's house. Many, many friends and family literally swooped in, and in a matter of moments I was being carried.  When Corey and I went to the doctor's office Jennifer called and asked if she could come sit in the waiting room - for the sole purpose of praying for me. That night, Jenny came and crawled into my bed with me and said nothing except, "I'll cry with you." That was every single thing that I needed to hear at that moment.  In the next few days, my parents, my other sister, my brother and his wife had all come to help with me in any way that they could. I had friends come and get my older kids when I didn't even know that I needed them to. I had two friends in particular that called daily - sometimes several times a day - not to ask, "Are you okay?" but specifically, "What is going on in you right now?" I received meals for weeks and someone at church organized cards that were sent to me randomly for months.  I have since written in my journal that these people were "God in flesh" to me at a time when God seemed forever away. They threw the rescue floatation device to me as I was drowning in the storm. I will be forever grateful.

At the end of that day four years ago, I wrote in my journal, "I pray that if God grants me anything, it will be the ability to be at peace with Him again and with myself. Both of those things seem so elusive right now."

Today, 4 years later, I can whole heartedly say that He has done just that. It has taken almost every single day of crying out to Him for those 4 years, but He has met me. He has comforted me. He has shown me that He is sovereign. He was not surprised that I lost my babies or that I was so impacted by it. He has loved me through every single step of this very difficult journey. And, He will love me through the rest of them too. The thing about loss is that it is never over. Different people react to it different ways, but it is forever a part of you once it has happened to you. I used to resist that, but today I am content with it.

So today, I feel the need to say that I am thankful to those of you that were God in the flesh for me and carried me when I could not carry myself. Those of you that have loved me unconditionally even when I did not make sense to you. Those of you that met me where I was and didn't rush me to move on any faster than I could. Those of you that love me today for the person that I have evolved into even though I tried like heck to remain the person that I was.  Those that will love me tomorrow and next month and next year - no matter what.  

I am so very grateful for a God that waited with me and pursued me when I didn't know how to pursue Him. It is not that I didn't want to... it is that there was a bigger plan in motion. I could not control the amount of comfort and peace that He would measure out to me. Believe me, I would have moved on years ago if I could have. But God's timing has led me to this place at this moment, and I am okay with that now.

Tonight I was sneaking out the door to go to the cemetery where my little one is buried. Allie saw me leaving and asked if she could come too, so she and went there together. It was the first time that she has joined me there, and it was beyond special to me to share this night with her. I am thankful that she made me let her go with me. We talked about things that no mother should have to talk to her child about, but it is a part of our family now... it is a part of us... so that made our conversation very sacred.




Today, I feel like on this anniversary of my little one I was given the birthday gift. Through some miraculous situations during the last few weeks, I feel like I am beginning new. Maybe this anniversary is the beginning of a new era and the end of an old one. Oh, I'll never move on or forget or get over it... I don't even want to. I am okay here. This is who I am, and I am okay.