This past Sunday morning during church, I could tell Mike had something on his mind. He was a little more serious-faced than usual. I asked him if something was wrong. He hesitated, shrugged, then said he would tell me later. Now, girls, any of you out there know that we cannot let that go. But I wish I had.
He leaned over to me and said, "Your due date was April 5th, right?"
I nodded.
Then I got it.
He would have been one year old this weekend had the preterm labor never happened.
I'm usually the one pretty good with rememebering dates, but this time I didn't. I tried to blink back the tears. It wasn't working. I slipped out for a minute, then came back in. Thought that did the trick, but it did not.
Why fight the tears at this point? I think people get used to see me crying.
I get flashes sometimes of the "would have been." And right then, I saw Mike holding our dark-haired, cute little boy. But then I looked over and saw Mike sitting, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, looking so sad.
You know, I've always wanted to be a mommy. I was the junior high kid that volunteered to help in the nursery, because that's how much I have always loved babies. But even stronger than that desire, is my desire to see Mike get to be a Daddy. He wants that so bad. And it would fill my heart with so much joy to someday get to see that happen for him.
The first Sunday of every other month is an annointing service. For anyone who is not familiar with this, it is not a healing service type-thing you would see on t.v. Anyone is invited to go forward for emotional, spiritual, or physical healing. The pastor stands down below the stage, annoints you with oil, and says a prayer for you. I told him why we were there...for continued healing for our loss... for the wound that never goes away, and to be blessed again with another baby someday.
After all we have been through, there is still hope. We still hope for another baby that will be healthy and live with us. People ask us if we are interested in adopting. I value the gift of adoption, but for now, it is not for us.
So, back to Sunday. After the annointing, others were praying with us up front. It's always an emotional prayer for me. Good thing the annointing is toward the end of the service, because given my puffy, "gone-into-the-ugly-cry" face, I felt better just leaving church after that.
As we were walking out, I could hear the words being sung at that point from the service. Words from a song that is hard for me to sing at times, yet freeing and releasing for me to sing as well. Mike and I both commented later how it could not have fit the moment more for us--
"You give and take away.
You give and take away.
My heart will choose to say,
Blessed be the name."
He gives and takes away. Now, nowhere in that tune is there a line that says you'll know why he takes away. I think that's way that song is hard to hear. It simply just says He gives and takes away, that's all. After what we've been through, that song can almost make me picture an unloving God that yanks things away after he dangles them like a carrot. The song makes me remember the times right after his death when we wondered why God never saved him. Why he allowed it to happen. Sometimes we struggle in wondering if God thought we would be bad parents. Yes, we know that's not true, but it's an honest thought.
But the song also reminds me of other things I've dealt with and decided through all this. Faith in God is not conditional on my circumstance. It is not dependent on whether I have the "warm fuzzies" in my heart or not.
So, my heart does still choose to say it. Because when the heart isn't automatically feelin' the good vibes in the down times, you can still make the choice to say it. You can still make the choice to believe in more than your pain.
You can still make the choice to press on, and HOPE. You can still make the choice to BELIEVE.
Because God is not done with us yet.
Trust me, this is not the end of our story.
"Be confident in this, that He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it." Phil. 1:6
