The Final Days
June 19, 2013
For the past 5 months God has given us a beautiful gift. He has given us the eyes to see so much good in an awful situation. This entire time although we have been overwhelmed with sadness, we cannot deny God’s work. Annie has changed people’s hearts. The Holy Spirit is moving in ways we’ve never seen, and it’s beautiful. There has been something weighing heavy on my heart these past few weeks, and it took someone else putting it into words for me to fully grasp what the feeling meant. I know my God is the Great Physician, a healer, a performer of miracles, but I truly feel that God has allowed us to see the good in this despair because it is being used it in such an influential and undeniable way. Annie is making such an impact on the world exactly the way she is. I got an email from a trusted friend and advisor, and she relayed to me what she felt the Lord was telling her. I won’t share it all, but I will say it validated exactly what I felt the Lord was showing to me. Annie was going to be born exactly the way she was, and Annie was going to die.
I won’t lie to you, I am not a huge fan of this plan. It sucks for me and for my husband and my family, but we aren’t privy to the entire thing. I do have a tremendous peace about it though, because I trust in a God who feels my pain. God watched his son die in order for lives to be saved, and God knows exactly how I feel. I’m not trying to compare Annie’s journey to Jesus’, I’m simply saying that I feel God is showing us the magnitude of Annie’s impact if she travels the path laid out before her. The crappy part is that on this path we have to watch our daughter die.
We had our ‘for real’ last OB appointment today. My doctor told me that every option had been explored and they had secured an OB-ICU room for us on the day of delivery. This way, if they have to intubate Annie we can stay together. I felt a humongous weight lifted from me in that moment. I was terrified that Robert and Annie would leave me to go the NICU and I would miss precious moments with my daughter. We also discussed having one of my sisters “suit up” and be ready to come into the operating suite should Rob and Annie have to head to the ICU room before they are done with my surgery. Again, more weight was lifted off of me. I don’t have to be alone. The appointment ended with me looking into my doctor’s eyes and saying, “I’m ready,” he hugged me, and we left.
We took the checkout sheet up to reception and handed it to the clerk to schedule our 6 week post-partum visit. She looked at us and said, “post-partum visit! Next time you come here you’ll have your baby with you!” I started trembling, tears welled up in my eyes, and it felt like that woman punched me in the stomach. I impulsively took a few steps backward, as if I were trying to get as far away as possible from her awful words, and I smacked into the wall. I slouched down and then felt myself hunch over in pain. I have no idea how loud I was wailing, and I don’t really care. I felt my husband’s arms cover me like a blanket and stroke my hair. I heard him whisper loving things into my ear. I heard him tell me to breathe. When I finally gathered myself enough to stand, she had made the appointment for us and we left (I was told she apologized numerous times and felt horrible). I was shaking so badly and breathing like I had run a marathon, so we sat in the corner of the waiting room for awhile (at least 30 minutes) until I was fully composed. We have been getting comments like that this whole time from strangers and even acquaintances who don’t know our story, and I’ve been able to shut down emotionally and fake my way through conversations. Not anymore. I’m done. This is happening in 7 days. I can’t hold it in one more second. I’m so, so crushed.
I want so badly to be angry at that woman. I want to scream at her. I want to scream at SOMEONE. But because I see the good I can’t be angry. I can be devastated, I can be confused, I can be emotionally shattered, I can be exhausted, terrified, disappointed, upset, but how in the world can I be angry when my precious baby is spending her entire existence doing the Lord’s work? She is doing more for God’s glory in her short time on this earth than I could have ever hoped for her. I’m not happy. I’m all of the emotions listed above and then some, but please believe me when I say I’m not angry. (yet, anyway…)
The main feeling I have in this moment is fear. I have described it as standing in the middle of the road with a truck barreling toward me. I can see it getting bigger every day, and no matter what I try to do I cannot move. I know it’s going to hurt like hell, but there is nothing I can do about it. I can see this day coming, and I know it’s going to hurt, but how do you prepare yourself for what it’s going to feel like? (seriously, if you know, please tell me.) I’m fearful of how great the pain is going to be, and I’m fearful of how we are going to handle it. I know in my heart that we are going to be ok. I just don’t know what the days in between now and then are going to look like.
We are spending the weekend before Annie’s birth celebrating the life of a great man. My brother in law’s father died of cancer this week, and it has been a challenging time for the whole family. I take such great comfort that in the time before his death, he talked to my sister about how happy he was that he could be in heaven waiting for Annie. This man was one of the most loving grandparents I have ever seen, and although my heart is broken for my nieces and nephews whose experiences with him were cut short, my heart dances thinking that he will be there to greet my baby. When I got the phone call about his passing, Dylan (my 4 year old) asked me why I was crying.
Me- “Your cousins’ grandpa went to heaven this morning. Remember how we talked about how great it is when people go to heaven? He isn’t sick anymore and he’s with Jesus. But we’re really sad because we’re going to miss him so much.”
Dylan- “Mom, that’s so great! There’s no more darkness.”
This girl. She has the ability to yank me back to reality regardless of where I am headed in my mind. Robert reads the girls a bible story every night from their children’s bible, and everything is put in very simple terms for children to understand. Jesus came and died for us to take away the darkness. How beautiful is that that my daughter knows, remembers, and teaches this?
I’m also reminded that regardless of the outcome, Annie will be healed, and soon. Whether it’s through a miracle and she stays here with us or she goes home to Jesus, she will be whole. Praise God.
Please keep praying.