We had our pictures taken the other week [by John Policarpio] and the day we got them back was an ultrasound day. Those are normally the hardest days for us because we're yet again being reminded of our precious girls state. The doctors saying one thing but our hearts believing the opposite. It's hard to sit there on such different wave lengths... but then I think about it and am reminded that that's exactly what it is to be a believer in the world. Often we'll be staring down death but believing in life in so many different ways, figuratively and not.
When we opened our email and went through these photos, I just sat there with tears falling down my cheeks. Our story was captured. The beauty, the richness, the trust, the heartache, the love that has strengthened in the midst of it all -- it's in these photos...
I've found myself falling into waves of emotional tears from time to time. The thing about it though is I'm not necessarily always feeling sad as I cry. The only way I can explain it is they are tears being sown heaven-wards. My desire to be closer and to know more parts of God's character grows every day. I've been longing for him and feeling him closer than ever all at the same time. I can feel his contentment over me and my daughter and it brings me to tears. I can feel the raw pain of this season, and then its met with Gods comfort and it brings me to tears. I think of a hard future or a beautiful future and then am reminded that no matter which it is, God will meet me there as he meets me each morning as I wake up.
As my birth is quickly approaching there has been so many thoughts and emotions racing through my mind. This pregnancy has not been normal in any sense of the word. We had a doctors appointment the other day where we had to discuss the practical stuff like what we would want if she passes after the birth, what we want the doctors to do, etc. I knew these conversations were coming, and I knew it wasn’t gonna be an easy topic. But as I was listening to the questions my doctor brought up in reference to our (very much alive) daughters death, I sat there full of peace. Not one sad emotion running through my mind. It was like God put up a wall of hope that didn’t allow the thought of death to even be processed. We left that appointment feeling good… joyful actually, and went on with our day as usual.
Days like that baffle my mind. (My earthly, logical mind). And that’s because it simply doesn’t make sense. None of this does. How can we be so consumed with hope and peace while we’re being told the opposite by professional doctors?? How can I continue to enjoy every day, to feel the sun on my face and smile, to see my husband in the morning and be grateful, all while I’m being told my daughter will be gone in a few short weeks? The answer to that is not something we will ever be able to wrap our heads around. And you know what… I’m ok with that. This peace I’ve been feeling, I don’t need to understand because it has carried me through each day. This hope, I don’t need to wrap my head around it because it brings me joy when I think about the future. My faith… yes some days I have a million questions about why I believe certain things, about why things happen the way they do… but it is what sustains me. It’s the warm kiss I wake up to in the morning knowing there’s more, knowing I’m made for something far greater than what I could ever imagine, knowing my path has come to where it is now not by my own steps but by a God who has guided me and brought me here.
This season has made us fully dependent on our faith in who God is, no matter the time frame. Which is HARD. I've had many moments full of "why's", and many moments where I wish I could know exactly what our future looked like after the day our sweet girl is born... but I don't know. And I never will, until that day meets us. So I inhale each day, I allow tears to fall when my heart feels incapable of going through the unknown, and I choose faith. Hard, lengthy, unending faith.