October 27, 2017

It’s taken me some time to find the right words for this post. Or maybe I’ll be a bit more honest and say I never thought in my wildest dreams that this would be the post I was writing. But here it goes…


October 4th, 2017. The day we met our beautiful girl, Sage Mireya Francis, but also the day we kissed her goodbye. Everything we were believing for came shattering down into a million pieces before us. Some days as I think back to that day it feels like a blur. So much happened, body, mind and soul. But the one thing about October 4th that is so beyond vivid in my mind are the moments in the OR. It’s like every second of every minute is recollected in my memory. To the point where it haunts me often. That is the moment our lives changed forever and our Sage came into this world not healed. My heart sinks thinking of that moment when we saw her and realized her life would not be long here. It was in the moment of seeing her that we also knew we were about to say goodbye.


She came out with a roaring cry that I will never forget. And she clung to life for 10 precious hours. 10 hours we will forever be grateful for. Watching the rise and fall of her chest, rubbing her warm back, feeling her lips melt into my chest in comfort as she laid with me, feeling her tiny hand grip onto Ryan's finger like her life depended on it. These moments I will hold onto like treasure for the rest of my life. The nurses and doctors were amazed at her ability to cling to life and share those moments with us, they too were changed by our girl. 



My life has never felt so full of pain and so full of meaning at the same time. Never have I desired a life of meaning more than now. And it’s all for and because of my Sage. She has changed every part of my life. It has been shaken down to the foundations. Questions I’ve never asked before I find myself asking daily, thoughts I once weighed as important are now thrown to the side. Living our purpose in the midst of this unfair broken world. My family. Her legacy. This is all that keeps my blood pumping these days.


As I rise I think of her, as I sit in silence or noise, I think of her, and as I lay down to sleep on my tear stained pillow, I think of her. Grief has undone me.



Thank God for my iPhone and for the note app. Over these last few weeks it has been something that has helped my head to stay above the surging waters. I bare my soul to it daily. When my mind is racing it’s the first thing I reach for because my hand is just not quick enough to get all these emotions on paper. It's strange... sometimes when I write it’s as though my words start coming straight from my Spirit. & my spirit is much stronger than I am. Often I write to process, to get down my emotions, to exhale the hard and ever turning thoughts in my mind. And from time to time when I revisit what I write I see something new. I learn from myself, I learn from my own spirit.


Since the day Sage left I have been sent countless links to blogs and stories of similar losses in hopes of offering me comfort through this pain. But only few have really helped or spoken to me...and here’s why: In my broken state and in my sadness I haven’t been looking for the call to faith, I haven’t been wanting to read stories where everything "is for Gods glory & goodness". Because that’s not how I've felt. I've been angry and hurt. I felt like our fight as her parents was for nothing. We fought hard, we conquered doubt and stepped in the face of the enemy knowing (truly knowing) that our God was her healer, that he was capable of the impossible. Going into my birth I was CERTAIN (more certain than I’ve ever been of anything) that she would be perfect when she arrived. I had dreams of it and words spoken over it... but it didn’t come. So here enters our questions and our disappointment, something we will wrestle with for a while.


I was so nervous as I tried to string my words together for this post. I no longer felt the hope I once did in times before so I felt as though I needed to refrain. But this is my truth. I chose to open my heart up and share from the beginning of Sage's story, and as much as I hate that death has been written in, it is still a part of her story and I refuse to let any of it go untold. This is my journey now & if it speaks even just a little bit into someone else’s suffering then I am ok with sharing it all —the brokenness, the messy parts, and ultimately the search to find hope once again.


I long for purpose in my pain —surely there is purpose in my pain. 







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