This morning while I was in the shower, I began wondering what God was going to do about my little baby, Sunday.
It was kind of like having a conversation, but I was really just telling God that I was wondering if He was going to heal my little one and show all the doctors and all the other unbelievers the great miracles He still performs. Showing them that He is indeed real.
Or has He already decided upon a time that she will pass away to be with Him and that this is merely a journey upon which I have something to learn. Just me. Teaching me. Not a punishment but rather something He wants to do in my life that I am completely unaware of.
I try to stay busy with my children, my new backyard animals, the garden, home projects, being a team mom for Parker’s football team. Spending a lot of time with Chris and just trying to feel safe in a time of uncertainty. But it doesn’t work.
As I hose down the back patio, I’m thinking about her. While I’m cuddling Jace watching Chris build the chicken coop, I’m thinking about her. While I plan football fundraisers, I’m thinking about her. Sleeping restlessly, I awaken thinking about her.
When I first got the news, I would wake up and suddenly remember that this was really happening. But now, my first thoughts are: “Is she still alive today?”
Sometimes when I’m in my backyard, I am carried away for a moment long enough to enjoy life and my children, but it is short-lived. I suddenly feel sick to my stomach and remember this pregnancy isn’t suppose to end well. And I just die inside. Wanting it to just go away. Not Sunday. Just this death sentence the doctors gave her.