Well, this is the post I had hoped and prayed would never materialize. The post where I tell you that despite all the shots, all the pills, all the tests and all the procedures, all the statistics, and all the prayers, neither one of our babies lived more than a few days after being placed in their Mommy’s womb.
Our journey has come to an abrupt end, a painful, heartbreaking end.
Yesterday was a hard, terrible day. After I got the phone call, after my own first wild storm of grief and shock had subsided, we had to tell our precious children. These were their babies, too. They loved them fiercely already. Finding out that they would never get to see them or hold them was devastating. Their own grief was raw, and it shattered my heart into even smaller pieces.
Later in the night, a line from a song started running through my head: “To live and to love will always be dangerous, but it’s better than playing it safe.” (Kendall Payne)
I’d been singing that song a few months ago when I began wondering whether God was asking too much of me to go through with this. It just seemed so big and scary, people didn’t understand, weren’t supportive, the prospect of enlarging our family was producing some logistical issues that we weren’t sure how we would address. God used those lyrics, and lots of wisdom from my husband, to remind me that following Him is always right, even when it doesn’t feel safe. However, I pictured holding my babies at the end of the dangerous road, the reward for following Him when it was risky.
Last night as that line ran through my head, I’m not going to lie–I wasn’t sure if it was still true. How could this still be better than playing it safe? How were any of us better off for having begun this journey? Why, why did God call us down this path, let us walk it for 22 months, experience the ups and downs that we experienced, if it was just going to end like this? Why did He dangle the dream in front of me, tell me to go after it, and then take it away?
Do you want the truth?
I have no idea why God is doing what He’s doing, and the biggest part of me right now wishes that He had chosen to do something else, namely, let my babies live.
When my heart is broken I must cling to the truth I believe when my heart is whole. When my thoughts are muddled and foggy and confused and affected by loads of hormones, I must cling to the truth I know when my head is clear. The truth of light doesn’t change just because it’s dark at the moment. The sun doesn’t cease to exist during the night.
The God I trust when it’s easy is just as trustworthy when it’s hard.
And He is good. And He does all things for good purposes. I believe that, even when it hurts very very badly. Though He slay me, still I will trust Him.
Psalm 139:16 says “Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there were none of them.”
This verse is true for my two babies who were basically still unformed, only a few cells yet still completely human in dignity and value and substance. Their days were written in His book and they are with Him now, fully alive and giving glory to Him.
It’s true for our other two babies who went to Heaven straight from the womb, before I even got to feel them growing, one in 2004 and one in 2011.
And it’s true for me, and my husband, and my children. And it’s true for you, if you are a child of God. No matter what painful turn your path has taken, He is still good, still trustworthy, still knows what He’s doing, and is still working for your good.
Let me leave you with one more line from a song that has become very precious to me over the past several months, as we have been walking through another, unrelated trial:
“Let the treasures of the trial form within me as I go, and at the end of this long passage, let me leave them at Your throne. May this journey bring a blessing. May I rise on wings of faith. And at the end of my heart’s testing, with your likeness let me wake.” (Keith and Kristyn Getty)
This is my prayer. If I must walk down this road, then let me yield to His will, surrender to the process, and look more like Jesus at the end of it.
Again, thank you so much to all who have prayed for us, supported us, and given financially on this journey. Please don’t stop praying, we’re going to need it in the days ahead that will be hard emotionally for all of us, and physically for me.
But through it all, we will trust in His goodness.