What does grief look like four years later? I’m not sure if people outside of the “loss club” think about this question or not, but I felt it was the perfect topic for today. I bet some people believe that grief gets lighter as time goes on. After all, time heals all wounds right?
One of the things my nurse said to Eric and I shortly after Harper was born was, “People are going to say a lot of really dumb things.” In the moment I couldn’t wrap my mind around what she meant. I was overcome with grief and my mind was trying to process the fact that I had just given birth to a lifeless baby girl. But as time went by, her words echoed back in my mind and I realized what she was trying to warn us of.
It didn’t take long for us to experience all kinds of, well, let’s just say “interesting” comments. Some were hurtful. Some were confusing. Some were just stupid. And some were cliches that are often used when people just don’t know what to say.
I wanted to talk today about one that I’ve probably heard more than all the others. Chances are, if I’ve told you my story, you have probably mumbled this phrase to me.
Two years. It has been two years since we first saw your face. That beautiful face. Two years ago our lives were turned upside down and we entered our lowest valley and our wish to raise you here on Earth did not come true.
To all of you raising two year olds out there- hello. You may or may not know me, but I deeply desire to know what your life is like right now. As you read that, perhaps you exhaled, rolled your eyes, or laughed thinking I couldn’t possibly be serious. You may feel that life with your two year old is nothing glamorous or anything that anyone would care to know about… but you’re wrong.
I think there is a common misconception about the difficulty of living life and the responsibility of being christian or religious. Somehow if you claim to love God, there is a pressure to be able to “hold it all together.” As if leaning on Him can’t look messy.
I want to share with you today that it can.
Trusting God in the midst of your circumstances is a complexly intricate mixture of emotions. It is not pretty. It is not easy. It doesn’t fit neatly in the church pew each Sunday. Faith, based not on the details of this life, but on the divine attributes of God, is grueling.
Before you came, our family took a hard hit. The Lord blessed us with a “surprise pregnancy” and it was the last thing we ever saw coming. We thought learning of your existence, picking out your name, decorating your nursery, and preparing to raise three children in our home was going to be the biggest curve ball God had for us…and now how we wish it were.
If I’m being honest, the thought of having a “baby shower” completely terrified me. My friends had thrown me such a lovely shower for Harper 11 months ago, where I received so many nice items that I never got to use. They have sat, untouched, in Harper’s room and will hopefully be passed down to her sister once she arrives.
I was gripped by the fear of having another lovely shower thrown for me and being unable to use the gifts or raise the child we were there to celebrate.
Dear “Mom Whose Baby Will Live”,
Congratulations! What a blessing it is to have life growing inside of you. Whether you are a first, second, or third time mom, I’m sure that you must be filled with excitement and anticipation of your little one. You have most likely found out the gender of your baby and have the next 6-12 months planned out in your mind. I’m sure you are setting up the cutest little room for your son or daughter, registering for all the things, and dreaming of how different life will look come your due date.
I remember those days.
I was once much like you. My first two children made their way into our lives seamlessly. They were both boys, and I was getting used to the idea that being a “boy mom” was just amazing. I had become somewhat of a pro at dressing my boys, buying the trains, planes, and cars, and even successfully potty trained my oldest-which with boys can be an adventure.
Then I became pregnant with our third.
This was very unexpected. Being the type A planner that I am, it took me awhile to get used to the idea of having another so close in age to my then 14 month old, but I knew God had a plan for our family. We found out that it was a girl and of course were excited to be adding a little more estrogen to our family dynamics. I did all the things moms expecting baby girls do. I decorated a nursery, had a baby shower, and bought all things pink.
But, you see, I didn’t get to keep my daughter.
At nearly 39 weeks pregnant, my heart was crushed and my world forever changed when we discovered she had died in my womb. Her perfectly formed little heart had stopped beating just days before her due date because of a tight knot in her umbilical cord. Everything that I had envisioned for our family’s future was set on fire, and I was left with the ashes-somehow expected to sweep them up in my hands and keep on living.
I don’t write to you to gain any pity, but to say simply this- enjoy it.
Enjoy every hard, exhausting, heavy ounce of your baby who will live. Leave the hospital with full arms, but please don’t take that fullness for granted. Change the dirty diapers, but soak in every one. Wipe the spit up out of your hair for the 500th time today, but embrace it as a sweet perfume. Deal with the tantrums, but in the midst of each one show love and compassion to your child and thank Jesus for letting you raise such a strong-willed little human being.
The truth is, I envy you.
I envy the fact that you get to raise all of your children. I envy the lack of knowledge you have merely due to your lack of unimaginable heartbreak. I envy the fact that each kick of your baby growing inside of you must bring you pure joy, instead of the thought- “ok, she isn’t dead yet.” As I watch you at your baby shower- opening all of the adorable things that you will be able to actually use, I envy your confidence in the fact that you will bring home a living, breathing, healthy baby boy or girl. I envy the fact that you are probably more concerned about what’s in your hospital bag, than the thought of having to plan a funeral soon after you deliver.
I know envy is wrong, and I am working on myself daily. I continue to pour into scripture and God’s promises that I know are just as true for me as they are for you. But if I’m being honest, it is not easy, friend.
And yet, I press on. I rejoice with the hundreds of friends around me bringing living babies into their homes. I go to the baby showers, I pray for good health and smooth deliveries, and I love. Because that is what God calls us to do. Not to dwell in the bitterness and envy, but to love.
So it is with the most sincere heart that I say- I love you. I am praying for you. I am rejoicing with you.
Love,
A Mom Whose Baby Died
“I give you a new command: Love one another. Just as I have loved you, you are also to love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” -John 13:34-35
