Psalm 34:18
February 5, 2016. That date will forever be etched in my mind. It was the day my heart was broken. So broken that I thought I'd never recover.
Let me back-track a bit to the December before. December 21st to be exact. We'd been trying and praying for so long and then I saw it ... two pink lines. We were going to have another baby. Could there be a better Christmas present? I think not. We started making plans right away. We told our two boys and they were beyond excited. I think even more excited than when they opened presents on Christmas morning. I called the doctor and made an appointment. The nurse told me that the day would start with an ultrasound and then we'd see the doctor and follow-up with any blood work or other tests that needed to be done. The appointment was scheduled for February 5th. I was to be ten weeks along on February 5th.
I didn't sleep well the night before our appointment. I was too excited to sleep, but also I felt a bit of a foreboding. I was nervous. I had experienced so much anxiety already and I was only ten weeks. Finally the sun rose over the trees and before I knew it, it was time to head out to see our baby. We arrived at the doctor's office way before our scheduled appointment. I remember watching the pregnant women in the office. Envious over their swelling bellies and then picturing me with a baby-filled belly, too. We were called back for our ultrasound and the last thing that I can clearly remember is the feel of that cold gel on my belly and the words will forever be on my mind, "I'm not seeing a heartbeat." I don't know how loud I gasped. I don't know how long I had to lay there sobbing while she continued to look and measure and take pictures. I do know that I left a piece of my heart on that table in that little room on February 5th, 2016.
I've been leaving pieces of my heart and dried up tears all over the place since we left that office that morning. I left a little piece and a long-gone tear drop on the side walk as we walked quietly to the car. I left even more in the car on that way too long of a drive home. And our house, our house has seen numerous breakdowns and has witnessed my heart breaking into what felt like a million pieces.
I tried to pray, but to be honest, I was numb. In that moment, I felt like I was the furthest away from God that a person could be, I felt hopeless and heartbroken. My husband called our priest. I felt a bit relieved for him to be with us in that moment. He spoke some prayers and blessed me with holy oils. I don't really remember anything that he said, though. Mumbles. Just mumbles as my heart raced while fighting back more tears.
And then it happened, five days later, I delivered our baby. In the moment, it didn't dawn on me what I was doing. I didn't think of it as being in labor and delivering a baby. But that's what it was. I delivered our baby at home on a Wednesday evening. We buried our baby that Saturday. The priest again prayed over us and the baby, blessed the ground with holy water, and we laid the casket with the baby and a few of the baby items we had already purchased in the ground. I don't remember it. I have snapshots of the day in my mind. I see the stuffed rabbit that we had bought. I see the priest raising his arm in blessing. I remember my husband getting down on his knees to lay the casket into the dirt. That's all I remember from that day.
My anger with God was just beginning, though. The confusion and hurt that I felt. My baby was gone and I didn't even know if it was a boy or a girl. We named it Gabriel. My third child's name is Gabriel. We felt that the baby needed an angel name because that is where he is now. He's with God and he's probably wondering why I cry so much. I hope that someone in Heaven will explain it to him. That I miss him and really wanted to be his mom. I wanted to hold him and play with him and watch him grow up.
I've come to calling Gabriel a he, it feels right to call him a boy, but I don't know. That is where a lot of my hurt is coming from. I don't know what he looks like. Does he take after me or my husband? Which of his brothers would he have been like? Would he have liked animals or computers? Or would he have been completely different? February 5th. Those questions and so many others that I had about Gabriel all died with him. Now, I live on the hope that maybe, someday, I might get to meet my Gabriel and all of those questions might get answered.
Now, even though I still go through times of anger and pain, I can say that I am finding comfort in God again. I know that God loves me. He loves Gabriel. He loves my family. I know that I'm not alone. Even though I don't understand any of this. I do know that I'm not alone and that God has it all worked out. And that is hard to admit. Deep down I know this, but it is so hard to let God have control over everything. It's really hard to let go and just let Him handle things. It is a hard thing to put all of our trust into Him, especially when we don't understand or think that His plan isn't fair. I think that is what God wants me to gleam from all of this ... He has it all under control and His plan will be revealed to me at the perfect time. At His time. Let Him do what is right. Not my will, but His. NOT MY WILL, BUT HIS! I have lost count of how many times I have spoken that phrase over the last few months. So many times, just so I don't forget. All I have to do is be still. God has it. Be still and know that He is God. God the Redeemer. God the Creator. God the Ruler of the Universe. I put my trust in You.
