Before this day comes to an end, I desperately need to write down what I'm feeling inside. Today has been a whirlwind of events and emotions and I feel like I've been tossed in the storm.
Church was moving as it's expected to be once you've lost a baby, none the less your second baby. The topic today (and last Sunday for that matter)? Heaven. The preacher talked about how we need to be ever thankful of the present but looking forward to the eternal. He talked about how the enemy's desire is to distract us from these things by striking us with fear. Fear of the unknown future, fear of the past, fear of things we can't control. I almost felt like God was taking to me in that moment. I had prayed to him in hushed words days after giving birth to Evelyn. I fear this is the end, I fear I will never bring home another baby. I fear I will never be a mommy to a baby girl on earth. I fear my son will never have a sibling. I fear my husband will leave me because I can't carry his children. I FEAR, I FEAR, I FEAR. But God has revealed so many things to me in this seemingly small day.
I'm homesick, longing for your salvation; I'm waiting for your word of hope. My eyes grow heavy watching for some sign of your promise; There's smoke in my eyes, they burn and water, but I keep a steady gaze on the instructions you post.
Psalm 119:81-83 (The Message)
After the service I waited patiently in the lobby while my husband parked cars. I stood with my son by the coffee creamers, fake smile plastered to my face, lost in my thoughts. I wondered if people could see, I mean really see me. Could they look at my face and see "I gave birth to my lifeless daughter two weeks ago and my heart is breaking inside" Could they sense her death in a simple stare? The answer to this became obvious as a mother (whom I knew from watching her daughter in the nursery) came bouncing joyfully up to me. She scanned my flat tummy, then my face. "Oh look, you....and then her voice trailed off as she watched my fake smile go to undeniable pain. I muttered the best way I knew how "She passed away 3 days before she was born". Ouch. I started to shake and cry. I was half angry and half sad. Angry I didn't have a different response for her. Why couldn't I be saying "Oh yes! I had a girl, she is in the nursery" or "She is with her daddy who is very excited right now" or even "She was born a little early and is in the NICU, we are headed to see her now and can't wait to bring her home" But no I couldn't give her any of these answers. I left church with my head spinning, stomach twisted and a knot in my throat. I can close my eyes at this very moment and envision her face. The moment from complete joy to shock and sorrow. It reminded me of my face the day I discovered Evelyn was no more on this earth.
God knows I need him, here and now. In this moment he is here with me as I weep. I cried out to him when I got home. Why God? Why? You know I wanted her. You know I wanted to keep my baby girl. Just TELL ME who I have to be to deserve having a baby on earth. What do I have to do? Tell Evie I miss her and that mommy loves her so much. I know she is happy where she is. I have no doubt of that. But tell her I would go to the ends of the earth to have her here with me. I love her, I wont forget.
I don't know what the next step is in my life. I don't have a clue where to go. But God reminded me today that I simply need to look to him and scan the horizon for his instructions. As much as I hate not being in control, it feels good to know the I AM of all creation is walking with me on this journey and ultimately knitting together my future in the midst of my grief. I am overwhelmed with knowing that he is a God who cares, who loves, who protects. What a bittersweet day