Sunday, April 28, 2013

That Day {Remember this}

"It's a girl," she told me.

I've dreamed of hearing those words many times over, but not like this.  I pictured many exclamation points at the end of that sentence.  I imagined it in a birthing room, or a sonogram room.  I've imagined having a girl in my photographs.  A bunch of boys in their navy and gray with a pink bundle in the middle, the boys all gathered around looking at her.  I've imagined the comments at the grocery store.  They always say, "Are you trying for a girl?"  Now they would smile and say, "You've got your girl."  They would talk about how her poor future husband would have to get five brothers' approval.  I've imagined shopping for those first girl things.  I've imagined when the boys are off at college... we would go and visit them, my daughter and me.  She would play softball and piano, or maybe soccer and violin.  I would french braid her hair and tie ribbons at the end.  She would probably have a combination of her grandmothers' names.

I'm the one that asked.  I knew it was on my chart.  I knew I would have to ask and that they would not volunteer such information.  Some people don't want to know.  When I was pregnant, I was sure it was another boy.  I didn't have my hopes up for a girl.  I was so excited to have another boy.  I love my boys.  The nurse practitioner, this is what she said, "It's a girl.  I know this is hard news.  I know you have a house full of boys."  She was sweet to cry with me.  We hugged.  I gathered my stuff and walked out.  That office is so full of joy for so many, but my stomach turns every time I drive by it (which, by the way, is every single day).  That familiar feeling of sadness and regret... I have to fight through it.  It is sanctification for me.

I'll spare you all the details, but here's a few.  I met Chris in the parking lot of a coffee shop on my way home.  We talked.  We cried, again.  I didn't think I had any more tears.  It was just a week before Christmas.  I texted Chris later that day, "I've always wanted a daughter."  And then to find out I had one that I never had the chance to be Mommy too.  It was overwhelming.

My emotions have been all over the place since that day.  About a month ago, I was by myself at Target, and I slowly made my way through the baby aisles, and made a mental check list of what I would have picked out for her.  They have cutest chevron crib sheets.  Pacifier design has improved since Nathan was a baby.  They have little white pacifiers with a pink heart.  I got rid of my bouncy seat awhile ago, and I decided which one I would buy in its place.  I know.  It's strange to do such a thing.  For so many years, I was often in the baby aisles... replacing a pacifier, getting a new bottle, or picking up some diapers or baby food.  I haven't had a reason to walk through there in years.  It was therapeutic for me, this imaginary shopping trip.  I didn't cry.  It wasn't even overly sad at the time, but it helped me say good-bye.  I don't need to do that again.

I'm not sure I know how to express the extent of my sadness here.  Some of it is private.  Some of it has already lessened with time.  God is healing me.  He has been good.  Even in this bad circumstance, He's teaching me, refining me, and making me more like Him.  But even so, not a day will go by that I won't miss my daughter, that I won't wish she were here with us.  She would have fit perfectly in our family.  The boys would have been wild about her.  She would have had a great life.  We would've loved her so much.

A friend posted this the other day, and I had to stop what I was doing and write it down.


"Remember this,
had any other condition been better for you
than the one in which you are,
divine love would have put you there."

-Spurgeon


This is true for me.  For our family.  And for her.

I'm thankful for Truth, for those who have gone before me and lived in it, and for those who are now pointing me to it.  God had her days numbered perfectly.  This particular month has been more difficult.  She was due today.  I'm not sure how I can miss someone I've never met, or who maybe wouldn't have even been born yet, but I do.  I'll always be grateful for her life, short as it was.  The Lord has taught me so much.  I look on my boys with new eyes.  I feel like I love and appreciate them more.  They are all little miracles.  I knew intellectually they were miracles, but now I KNOW they are.  How blessed I am to have five sweet boys to call me Mommy.  And how blessed I am for the Lord to entrust me with this sorrow.  It's made me realize more fully the gifts I already have.  It's been a reminder that God knows what is good for me, and that I don't have to understand it.  And the best thing has been to realize my utter dependence on the Lord for everything.  It's all His.  I am His.

Remember this.

She is His.


For some background you can read That Day
That Day {Part 2}
That Day {The Hospital}

13 comments:

Another Texas Family said...

Tears Sarah. Praying for the Lord's sweet grace during the next few weeks and months to come as I know the emotions can hit at any time. Thank you for sharing so honestly.

Sarah said...

This is beautiful Sarah. I am so sorry. So many memories-I can remember every darn ultrasound offices too, and the pain that found me there. I love the quote-it's so true. Thinking of you always, sending love and prayers.

Angel said...

Love you Sarah. I'm crying with you and praying for you.

Niki said...

I love you Sarah. I wonder when my tears will ever stop when I think of your family and your little girl. I am grateful that you know how very much the Lord loves you and will sustain you.

Niki said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Jenna Anderson said...

thank you, sarah... really appreciate your honesty and vulnerability.

Allan Newburn said...

so sad sarah. i think i think about it almost every day too. i still pray for you. what a blessing you are to me. praying for the lord's strength to get you through these next few months.

Allan Newburn said...

this is really sarah not allan.

BrookieB said...

Sarah, o my heart aches for you...thank you for pointing to the beauty in the pain. All these things He uses. But, my heart hurts with you.

Jen said...

praying for you sarah and fully knowing you are blessed and that you will hold, dance with, sing and braid your baby girl's hair!

Nena said...

Oh, this is heart-wrenchingly beautiful! So, so sweet!

This "valley" that you are going through makes me think about something that God has underscored in my life many times and that is key life messages are formed in the valle. God is doing something beautiful in your life, Sarah - the valley is painful but will produce a harvest of righteousness and peace if you stand firm and press in to the heart of God!

love and blessings, my dear friend!
Nena

Between You and Me said...

oh, I'm brokenhearted for this part of your story.
praying for you even now.

thankful you'll see her one day.

Leslie Bannister said...

Just catching up on your blog. Sarah you are so brave to feel and grieve the loss but to know that God is working all things for your good. There is eternal comfort in that truth, I wish you and your boys didnt have to suffer this loss. I am grieving with you and I love you and how you always point me to Jesus.