Every passing year since Jonah’s death, the month of August rolls around and it somehow takes me to a different place. It takes me three years back. To a place full of sorrow, unknown and fears. It was a scary time in my life and a time I am not soon to forget.
Looking back I somehow can’t imagine how I ever got through it all. All the doctor visits, bad news and then there is always the night he was born. I’ve written before that in the process of stillbirth, as mothers, we are actively participating in the death of our baby – whether we want to or not. I remember during the ultrasound when the doctor told me there was no heartbeat and the steps I needed to take next, I just remember thinking, “Why can’t they just drug me up and put me to sleep so I don’t have to do any of this?” I kept asking myself, “Why me? Why, God? Why are you making me do this?”
But what most of all I was scared. I was so scared.
God tests us I think. He makes us to scary things. Things we certainly do not want to do, but looking back… I am so proud that I was able to do what I did in that delivery room on August 12th and on into the early morning hours of August 13th.
I am stronger because of it.
I am a better mother today because of it.
I am a better wife, daughter, sister, and friend because of it all. Every last ounce of pain, sadness, and fear that went through me had given me a faith like I have never had before.
The pain really does lessen over time. And the redemption of it all is my 18 month old daughter. She brings me more joy than I ever thought possible.
I love you both, Jonah and Micah. More than you’ll ever know.