Breaking and Mending

Tomorrow we begin our five year milestones. Tomorrow is five years from the day we sat in the ultrasound room, shocked and confused, while the doctor patiently and carefully explained that our daughter would not live past birth. Five years from having to make phone calls and tell family and friends that the happy event we had all been anticipating would be bitter and difficult, and yet still precious. Five years from planning a funeral instead of attending a baby shower. Five years since having all of our expectations of what life and family would look like shattered.

When you are losing and grieving life stops. It's paralyzing, and you have to step back and insulate yourself while you process and mourn and work through what normal looks like in light of your new situation. It's hard work. It's exhausting, and at times defeating, but eventually you come back to a new equilibrium and then you can begin to progress again with making decisions and making plans and, well, living. Then you hit an anniversary or an event that takes you back to that raw place. It isn't for as long, but it reminds you how deep the pain of loss runs. It never goes away.

In the last five years our life has changed in ways we could never imagine. We have come so far, and yet the sorrow still feels so near sometimes. I am so thankful for the three beautiful boys God has added to our family, and very aware that I wouldn't have them now if I still had Leah. But I want them all. Always, I want them all.

Yet I am so glad, that if I had to experience this suffering and this despair and this brokenness that I also have been able to testify to healing, and redemption, and transformation. God has done a great deal with us in these last five years. He has been patching us up and mending us day by day and week by week and year by year.

As I continue in the cycle of breaking and mending through death and sickle cell disease and cancer and all the weight of the hard things that will come, I am continuously mindful that God has provided so graciously for us, that He has cared so deeply about binding my breaks and plastering over my wounds, and that He has placed so many of you in our lives to do the heavy lifting of bearing our burdens, of carrying us when we falter, and of encouraging us on. To our families, our dear friends, the people of St. Andrews, First Pres, and First B, and all of you who have followed along via the blog and lifted us up in prayer, thank you for your contribution to our healing and growth these last five years. God has used you powerfully in our lives. You testify to us of His grace and mercy through your care.