in remembrance

when you find out you're pregnant, you begin to arrange the rest of your life around that baby.

you wonder about finances, you plan where everyone's going to sleep...what kind of routine you need to be on, how to eat better, and what kind of birth you're going to have. 

we are a family for four, even though you only see three.

our fourth member never took a breath.

she never opened her eyes.

i never held her in my arms.

she was almost 7 weeks old when i realized four days before mother's day that my double heartbeat was cut back to one.

i lost my second baby, and from tuesday to sunday, i was numb to all the blood, all the cramps, all the heartbreak. the ground soaked up all my tears, all my yearning, all my desperation. i couldn't stop her delivery. i couldn't stop my body. i couldn't bring her back. it was a whole week of death.

i felt hollow and empty for a while.

i wrote a few things, and i'm going to put up an excerpt here from one of the journal entries.

Jesus, You knew that Shalom would only live to be 6 or 7 weeks old. for some reason, that was the perfect length of life You desired for her. she was meant only for Your arms, but today i can't help but mourn her.

she had begun to purpose a new plan in my heart. i opened my heart to her - planned her birth and life the second i suspected her. i wanted her and was so excited to add her into my life - our lives. 

i took her for granted, too - the fact that i was pregnant felt like old news. i took her for granted.

i don't, now.

Lord, i feel like i'll never be the same - never be healed or whole - how can i move on? can i be so thoughtless to her? it's a hard mountain looming over me. i can't see ahead and i need You to cross this way with me. i'm not really sure how to honor Shalom.

i lost my baby. all her potential.

she could have been, would have been mine.

but i'm so empty.

she was being knit together, but You stopped her.

because she had fulfilled her purpose.

she accomplished what You sent her here to do.

and then You sanctioned her departure - her body stopped growing and she went to meet You.

i praise You.

i praise You because even in this, it corresponds with Your everlasting faithful and lovingkindness. 

and i praise You because You do not deal lightly with me, anyone else, or death.

i praise You because i believe Shalom is with You.

i praise You because i believe You orchestrated the details of her life and death and that You cared for her. 

i praise You because You hold the keys to death and Hades; You are the Author of death and life.

i praise You because You are faithful.

i praise You because You are the God of the Bible and not some helpless or distant God who sympathizes but never intervenes - this world is Yours and all that is in it.

i praise You for Your goodness.

i now know loss, and i am certainly permanently changed. i am not wounded that i need to be healed, and i feel whole because Jesus Christ is my everything. He is my portion and He is my praise; i will hope in Him even when the whole world is ripped out of my hands. i don't understand Him always - i don't understand His ways, but i do know that all i see is not all there is, and as a rule, what is seen is temporary. only He is permanent, and i own nothing.

 i still ache - deeply - when i think about Shalom. i was pregnant, but you'll not find a baby in my arms or leaning on my knees. i have nothing to show for my second pregnancy, but i do have a newly broken heart that will never be mended, because it's not supposed to be stitched up with cheap twine; it's beautiful the way it is.

Lord, i am Yours and You are mine.