I have been nervously anticipating today... this season. What will the waves of grief be like? Will I reflect in gratitude? Will I see how God carries me still? Can I humbly accept whatever He gives or takes away? How's my faith? Is it bigger than it was this day a year ago?
The day we shockingly found out we were expecting our fourth child... which mere weeks later (on April 14th) we discovered was in fact our fourth AND fifth child... and sadly two weeks later (April 27th) we found out we had lost our precious baby A, Felicity.
In the weeks leading up to today, I had a wonderful revelation. As I've stared into my 3 month old baby boy's face, I've celebrated that I had him inside me this time last year and didn't even know it. And in that, I realized I had Felicity too. I've gotten to celebrate the weeks I carried her, before I knew about her. Last year, I felt like I only had two weeks with her, but in reality, I had 5 precious weeks with her alive in my womb. That's 35 days. Days that I've gotten to newly thank the Lord for, one year later.
I've had a handful of people question my grief over a child I carried, but never met... especially in light of the fact that her brother is here, healthy and whole. All I can say is that with my past, a life is a life from the moment of conception (not that it isn't for those who asked, but for me this goes deeper). I fight for life. I fight to have others accept that size and location don't change the humanity of a person. So when I found out about her, her whole life flashed before my eyes. Her newborn days, her toddler cheeks, her tantrums and giggles, her grown on her own and the family she would have. I saw her side by side with her twin brother. The way they would play and laugh, comfort one another, grow together. She was so very real to me. So, I grieve alongside joy. And the pain is proof that she was real.
As the days go by, I've learned a few things.
•I'll forever miscount my children. It's a subconscious thing that hits me like a brick every day. I either count to five and wonder where one is, or I count to four and feel confused. What's even more strange is that my husband does it too. This isn't something I anticipate and even knowing I do it, I've tried to overcome it and I just can't. There's a hole here, for her. •I did somehow survive her loss. There were days when I simply clung to the fact that the Lord would see me through. Somehow someway. And He did. I can't say I've done it well. I can say He was faithful.
•If God progressively lures us to Heaven and away from this earth, it's working in me. This world with death and pain and grief... it's not my home.
•As I read recently (I can't remember where because I'm reading a lot), while He allowed Felicity's death, it is not OF Him. He's over it, but it's NOT His righteousness. And that helps me... He is still good. And yes, I've seen how He has used this experience and loss to shape me in ways that only losing a child could. I know Him better, love Him more ("do I?" I ask myself as I type this... I do.), and by His grace, I follow Him better. There's nothing quite so clarifying as realizing that all you hold dear can be gone in an instant.
Anyway, today and forever, I'll celebrate the gift of my twins. Their lives, her death, and the fact that God trusted me to be their Mama. To the answered prayers, the unanswered one and the grace that has carried me through...
My heart will always long
My soul will groan
Yet I know
When the Lord calls me home
You'll be there with Him
And I breathe