Wednesday, April 13, 2016

Dearest Isaiah,
As the calendar marches closer and closer to April 14th, my heart grows heavier and heavier.  Every year the grief is different.  Different , but definitely always there! This year, the grief seems more, hmm, quiet.  Yes, definitely a quiet grief.  Why?  I'm not sure.  Is it because most people no longer ask me about it?  Yes, that could be a reason.  But I think there's more.  I guess I've become like a veteran-- I well know grief's pain b/c its been a familiar companion for the last almost four years.  I'm skilled at identifying when its about to rear its ugly head.  And I'm a master at boxing it up when it does.  So I guess I'm on autopilot--I know the trigger, I sense the emotions welling up, and I quickly put the lid on it. 
No tears.
No angry questioning.
Quietness.
But the more I think about that--the more I don't want a quiet grief.  I don't want to cover it up. "The worst grief is a hidden grief that cannot speak"(Ann Voskamp).  Oh how true are those words!! We do ourselves a disservice when we hide our grief. 
I want to remember.   I want to remember what it felt like to see a quiet still ultraosound with no beating heart.  The doctor shaking her head sadly. The OR filled with the noise of my crying.  Cradling your precious body.  Kissing you goodbye on your little forehead.  Telling your sisters that mamas baby was born, you were a boy, but you died.
All those memories--so terribly heavy.  But I need to remember b/c I need to remember the good things as well.
My husband, so strong and loving. My mom. My dad. Friends.  The changes that started in my heart--realizing that this world is broken, it is full of suffering.  I didn't get a pass (no one does!). But there is a God, my precious Abba Father, who GAVE His son so that He could redeem all this suffering.  So that He could bring beauty from all the ashes.  So that when this life is over, Heaven awaits those of us who have called out to Him. 
I remember the immense, horrible struggle that I had with questioning the goodness of God.  When my nephews were born shortly after you died, everyone exclaimed "God is SO GOOD!". 
Good?!
I wanted to scream.
Were they talking about the same God who gave me a dead baby????
Um, if God was good then He must not have been powerful enough to save my baby.  Or maybe He was powerful enough (can He be God if He isn't powerful? And, um there's creation), but then He certainly wasn't good. To give one person a live healthy baby and another a dead baby.  That's not good in my book. 
Or is it?
I'm coming to realize that pain can be a gift. 
What??
Yes -- didn't I hold my dear sweet girl down while she screamed at the people poking her with needles to test for awful diseases?  Didn't I make her go alone, without me, into surgery to help heal her? She certainly didn't see that as good--she cried.  She questioned.  Had her mom abandoned her? No I hadn't. I was, in essence, inflecting pain b/c of my love for her.  I wanted her well and the only way to do that was through pain.  So the pain, was, a gift.  Rescuing her from the needles but letting her die of a terrible disease wouldn't be a gift.
So maybe it was the same with God.  Maybe losing you, Isaiah, was actually a gift.  Through losing you, so much changed in my heart and in my life.  And in the lives of my family. 
"It's the broken hearts that find the haunting loveliness of a new beat--its the broken hearts that make a song that echoes God's.
 (Ann Voskamp again).
Out of trials, come great treasures. 
From ashes, He makes beautiful things.
From the rain and storm, rainbows are born. 
And those are gifts indeed.
Oh Isaiah, I wish I could go back four years and tell myself to not despair about what would happen over the next 24 hours.  Tell myself that God is a kind God--a loving God.  Tell myself that even though I am about to experience unimaginable pain, it will give birth to a new song, to joy, to beauty. 
Remembering is important.  Quiet grief is not good. 
I'm so sad I lost you.  I'm so thankful for all the beauty that has been born out of that loss.
Love you sweet boy.
Happy 4th Birthday!
Love,
Mama