Healing for the Heart

Check out the new website for our ministry Healing for the Heart! We started the journey into this alternative approach to counseling right around the time Sarah was conceived....so her life and our journey with her and intimately intertwined with this ministry. We are so thankful for all that she taught us in her short life here on earth...we will forever be grateful.

Click here....Healing for the Heart website!

6 months

It's hard to believe tomorrow will mark 6 months since I gave birth to Sarah. In some ways, it feels like just yesterday. Other days I feel as if the whole thing was just a dream. Joseph's sister Laura created this beautiful image out of Sarah's footprints...I've loved looking at it every day as I wake up as a reminder of the journey, the loss and the gain.

Yesterday when I saw her footprints, something in me unraveled. It brought back memories of her sweet spirit within me. Her strong kick to my ribs (which I would give anything to have back!) The journey of giving birth to her as a stillborn. I remember laying on the hospital bed and being told "her heart is no longer beating". It was the most devastating end to such a heroic fight for life and for justice. I looked at Joseph and said, "I'm not pushing a dead baby out. They can cut me open. I'm done."

As we sat in the dry, empty room, my mind passed back over the journey and something in me shifted. I had fought for an entire pregnancy, why would I give up now? I don't know if it was the mother within me, or the desire to finish what we had started...but some kind of hope rose up in me and I knew I had to go through with the labor. How could I opt out for a c-section after all that we had been through? I felt like I owed it to Sarah...she deserved a natural entry into this world...even though she would never call it home.

Memories flooded back of holding Sarah. Her long legs and her cute little stomach. Her soft hands and her beautiful head of hair. I have regrets. I regret allowing the nurse to take her from my arms when she did. Why didn't I say no? Why didn't I request more time with my daughter? This was my only chance to hold her in this lifetime. I regret not taking more pictures of Joseph and I holding her. I regret not taking time with her myself. Alone. Just mom and daughter. It all happened so fast and people were busy coming in and out of the room. I regret opening the bag they brought in shortly after they took her away, only to find the outfit we had dressed her in all folded up and back in our hands. Why did they give me these so soon? Why did they leave her naked? I couldn't help but picture my sweet little girl...all alone, naked and cold. I wish they would have kept her clothes on. I wish I wouldn't have opened the bag.

I miss my little girl, but life goes on. We're moving forward and doing our best to balance "remembering" Sarah with staying in the moment of today - not the past. I realized today that I still have a lot to work through. Six months has just scratched the surface of all of my questions, doubts, regrets, confusion, etc. In my heart, I know that Sarah is in the best place possible. She's among the best company we could ask for. I sometimes daydream of Sarah playing in Heaven with Joseph's father Jack. I imagine the look in his eyes as he gazes at our daughter - does he see his son in her? Is he getting a glimpse of me, the daughter-in-law he was never able to meet? I hope they've met...I hope they're in each others arms.

I still need to work through the healing of "why didn't it turn out different?" Why are all my friends having perfectly healthy babies with no complications? Some are 3, 4, 5 healthy kids down the road. My sister-in-law just announced that she's pregnant with her 3rd. As excited as I was to imagine another niece or nephew in our lives, I couldn't help but feel the sadness creep in. Why aren't we pregnant again God? When will you allow us to have children? Is there more healing you want for me before I get pregnant? If so...please, bring it quickly...to have a child in my arms - a child we call our own - I think I will fall to my face in thanksgiving and joy.