A personal #waitinginhopestory of loss
My eyes were full of tears, I could barely see. Even if I had wiped them it wouldn’t have done any good because there was no end to my waterworks. But what I could see was, that my husband was in the same state as I was. The nurse came in and said that we had a visitor and I couldn’t imagine who would choose to step into our mess. In walked my friend and she announced: “I am here to pray with you.” I felt so relieved and even more tears started to form. My husband and I had no words, nothing that we could muster up—so God sent her.
My miscarriage left me wounded, left me to wonder why my body had failed me, why God had failed me. Why would He allow this? I spent the summer mostly sad. Even on the sunniest of days, it felt dark. I tried to be grateful for the daughter I did have and thankful that it wasn’t worse. But still, sadness lingered.
When the leaves began to turn color, we found out we were pregnant again. Fear crept in—so much fear. I wondered if God would be cruel enough to let me endure another loss. We were slow to share the news of my growing womb. Then it came time for our 20 week sonogram and we were given the news that our baby girl was sick and that she couldn’t be saved. Peace overwhelmed me. Even though what I had feared was now upon me, I felt that God was up to something much bigger than my plans and I was okay with that.
As I prepared for my daughter’s death, I started to journal and really lean into the Lord. He used that time to speak tenderly to my heart. It was like a treasure hunt, uncovering truths about His character and the promises He had in store for me. I discovered that He was my constant and He steadied my frame.
My love deepened for Him.
I enjoyed my time with God, but there were still necessary decisions to make. I ordered her a micro-preemie burial gown and started searching for a grave. I asked my father to build her a casket in which he responded “she’s not dead.”, but three days later he was nearly finished. My cousin watched my daughter so I could weep, pray, sleep—whatever I needed to do. Another friend grocery shopped for us. During that time we were surrounded by such beautiful people who were willing to roll up their sleeves and love us well—from homemade apple pies to purple orchids.
The love of others sustained us and carried us through our weakest season. It is a responsibility they didn’t take lightly. They didn’t understand what burying a child was like; they only knew that we were hurting. How convenient and comfortable it would have been for them to look the other way, but instead they chose action—precious acts of service—and locked arms with us. I will be forever grateful to those who put themselves aside and to step into the muck with us. What an honor to God’s character as we strive to be selfless, kind, gentle and bold. May God impress on each of our hearts and draw us closer to Him so we can serve each other in miraculous ways.
(Guest Collaborator) Krystalle Wheeler - Lullaby of Hope Ministry Founder - www.lullabyofhope.org - Check out social media for a giveaway from Lullaby of Hope.
