As I tried gaining my composure so we could leave, my husband opened the door. The moment I took a step outside our room I felt completely vulnerable. There were other women there already. They were smiling and talking. (Just as I had been just a few minutes ago). I saw one woman look at me at I quickly put my head down. I wanted to run. I did not want those looks of pity. It felt as if everyone was looking at our family. Instead of us being full of joy we we full of pain. There was a silence we were projecting that others did not have, it was the silence that something had come to an end.
I quickly got into the car and just wanted to hide. As we began to drive towards the hospital, I sent a text to our Pastors. Informing them that we would not be attending the meeting because we were headed to the hospital. I don't recall if I text what we were told, but I do recall my Pastor called me. She prayed with me while we were in the car. When I hung up with her, I sent a text to my sister as well.
I leaned my head back, touched my stomach as I always did and prayed to God with all I had. I recall calling out to God and asking him to revive my baby as he had with Lazarus. I found myself saying let it be done for you Glory. But as I prayed, I heard a small still voice telling me, He knew what I was going through and that He would be with me every step of the way. I knew at that point that my prayer needed to change. So I began to cry out for strength.
I sat there in silence the rest of the way, listening...Almost afraid to move, almost afraid to breath, definitively afraid to live. I listened as my oldest daughter, called her teacher to explain she could not attend the play she was scheduled to be in that night. I listened as my husband took deep breaths while he tried desperately to keep it together (for all of us), and still manage to drive. I listened as Matthew shifted his legs back and forth on his orange/grey car seat that we had planned to hold on to for the new baby. (Matthew was just a few days short of 8 months old), I listened as Krystal tried hard not to ask questions, I listened to the cars and traffic around us. I listened as my husband d received a call that my purse was found at the church we attended the previous night and that they would be holding it for me. I wanted time to stop. I wanted time to end. But no such luck. Time just kept passing.
I received numerous texts: One from my best friend. Others from friends and family. Many with prayers. But I could not reply back. I had no words. I was at a complete loss.
As we pulled up to the very hospital where I gave birth to Matthew my whole outlook of it changed. The last time I had been here was when I saw this baby for the first time. I had arrived happy and had given picture of the baby, Yet, here I was, just a few weeks later, at the same hospital but unfortunately it was not for the same reason. The very place that we had rushed to a few months ago to birth life, now felt overwhelmingly morbid.
Again I found it difficult to breathe, and to walk towards the entrance. I felt my legs heavy. I shielded my stomach once again (from the cold). I called out to God again, and again and said to him "God, I am afraid", and in that moment I felt my husbands embrace.
"God never gives us more than we can handle." I've heard these words spoken often, but I will admit that at this moment it felt like it was too much (honestly there are days when it still feels this way). How could I handle this? How could I explain to people what happened? What explanation could I give as to why? How could I move on?
I now understand there are truly no words to describe such a deep loss. No words to explain how in the midst of something so horrible you WILL still live. Although at that moment we may wish it all came to a stop. It simply doesn't. I was in my own storm, and though the tides were high and I was being tossed from left to right. In the center of it all, there was strength I did not know existed. A peace that surpassed all understanding. A knowing that I was truly not alone. As He had promised me, there He was, He was with me. He would hold me through my storm as long as it took.
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