Monday, September 19, 2016

After Addie - Two Years Later

We sat on our bed last night and talked. The clock on the dresser read "10:45pm" and G commented that exactly two years prior, we were at the hospital and I was in labor with Adelyn Jane.

Two years?

Has it really been that long? Sometimes I remember it as clearly as if it just happened, and other times it seems like the remnants of a forgotten story someone told me long ago. But every time I stop, close my eyes, and think back to that day, it's like a movie starts playing in my head and I can remember even the most trivial details.

I remember G driving me to the hospital and me riding shotgun with my feet up on the dash. For some reason, that position eased the discomfort of my contractions and I sat there trying to take deep, slow breaths. I remember the sound of our feet hitting the pavement as we walked around the hospital to the side entrance after finding out the main entrance was locked for the night. I remember the look on the midwife's face after she examined me and knowing before she said anything that we were about to get bad news. And after we talked to the specialist about our situation, I felt God speak to my heart and tell me exactly how the next few hours were going to play out: The labor wasn't going to stop, I was going to have my baby, and He was going to take her home. I remember feeling peace wash over me alongside the certainty that I felt about what was to come. I remember holding our Addie, who we were told had the faintest of heartbeats that would only last an hour, and being surprised by how normal she looked. At only half-way through the pregnancy, I expected her to look like a little alien. Yet there she was, fully-formed and the tiniest baby I had ever seen. Her little head was still warm for the moment, and it felt like velvet when I kissed it. I whispered "I love you" in her little ear. I didn't know whether or not she could hear me, but I wanted those words to be the first and last words that she heard.

For the rest of the night G and I took turns holding her and looking at her, or trying to get some rest. In the morning, sometime between 7:00-8:00, our families arrived. The nurse told us they were there and asked if she could bring them back. I told her "yes" and as she went back out the door to get them, I remember feeling a twinge of concern. Would they be worried? Would they be hurting? Of course they would. They just lost a family member. All of a sudden I was desperate for them to know that we were okay and that God had a purpose for all of this, and I wanted them to have the same peace I had at that moment. Shortly after the nurse left, the door opened again and one after another, our parents and my brother walked slowly - almost cautiously - into the room. All of them were quiet and solemn, and some of them already had wet faces. I smiled at them in what I imagine would be the same way I would have smiled if I'd had Addie at full term and she were merely sleeping in my arms. It wasn't forced, either. I really did feel pride and joy about that beautiful baby I had just given birth to. There were lots of tears, though not by me. Whether because of shock or meds or just the enormity of peace I felt in my soul, I couldn't get emotional. It's as if my heart was still in crisis mode. My tears would come later, when it was time to leave. I watched each family member hold our tiny baby girl. They hugged and kissed her, stared down at her little face, and talked about how beautiful she was. It was a sacred time and God's presence in that hospital room was the heaviest I had ever felt. There was no doubt in my mind that He was right there with us in our pain. He was right there with us when we buried Addie a few days later, and He's still with us today as we look back.

Lots of other things took place after that which you know about if you have followed this blog for a while, and here we are - two years later. God's grace and goodness astound me. He truly never wastes an experience, and He is still using our heartaches for His glory. G and I are doing well, and we can think and talk about Addie without grief. I love thinking of her and talking about her with other people. God has brought us both closure in our hearts, and so we have been able to move forward in confidence, without fear of the future. We still have peace, joy, and hope, and our lives have never been fuller! Tessa is growing up quickly, and we are enjoying each new stage as they come. She is brings so much happiness to our hearts. For a while now, we have been praying for God's wisdom to know how to reach out to others and serve and we are considering a path that would allow us to use Adelyn's story (which is really God's story) to lift up others who are hurting. We don't know if it's the direction the Lord is leading in yet, but we want to go where and do whatever will bring Him the most praise. He is good, guys. Trust Him.


"Those who sow in tears will reap with shouts of joy. Though one goes along weeping, carrying the bag of seed, he will surely come back with shouts of joy, carrying his sheaves." -Psalm 126:5-6