Gratitude in grief...

On Sunday Brett and I were at church, and as we stood to sing during praise and worship...a very "tricky" emotional moment hit...HARD.

As I looked in to the chior, there I came face to face with someone I both cherish and hurt from when I saw.

It was the face of the OB/Gyn who did my D&C at the end of November last year when we lost Faith.

I found my breath absolutely catching in my chest. Tears instantly welled up. My head began to feel like it was spinning.

I didn't know whether to run or just stand firm in that spot and focus on my worship to God, or the pain in my heart.

I stood firm in worship.

Don't get me wrong...I wanted to start asking all the "why" questions and allow the enemy to fill my head with feelings of confusion and hurt and anger. And for a long time I could not bring myself to sing aloud. But I knew I couldn't allow myself to bend to the enemy.

I refused.

In that moment, I felt something that caught me by surprise.

I felt gratitude.

Let me explain...

When we lost Faith, Brett was out of the country. I had gone for a follow up ultrasound after just seeing her precious beating heart a week earlier. We were just going to gauge her growth at that appointment as she was a tiny bit smaller than what my due date would have suggested.

At that follow up ultrasound, my mom had come with me. My mom had to witness baring the news of once again "I am so sorry Heather, it's not good news..."

And a whirlwind of events to follow as I chose another D&C option.

Brett was stuck out of country, so my mom came with me the day of my D&C.

I just remember pleading with God to send angels my way in the form of the nurses and staff, because how was I to bare the loss of our 5th baby?! I needed some earthly angels. I needed to know He cared in that moment.

Now, the first few nurses I dealt with...no, not angels at all. Actually...they should retire or quit...or at least not be in those settings. 

But as the admitting nurse was filling out my forms for the "procedure", in walked a woman. My mom looked up and instantly burst in to tears. And at that moment...I knew my angel had just arrived. It was the OB/Gyn...a woman my parents know well from our church. And I burst in to tears as well and looked at her and said "I have been praying for an angel. He sent me you."

The admitting nurse didn't even KNOW who the doctor was! She thought she was just a nurse to take me down to the OR. So she explained that no, she was the doctor, and she would take me down to the OR personally.

From the moment she took me down...more angels appeared. In the form of the OR nurse staff and anesthesiologist.

I shared about my losses with the first nurse who took me back from the OR waiting room, and she just wrapped her arm around me. When I got up on the table she said to the other women around her "this poor woman has been through so much pain...lets be extra caring".

(OK...I am now in tears as I recall this day.)

Now, back to Sunday.

As I looked at the chior and saw this OBs face...I felt so thankful that in the midst of such pain and heartbreak, God provided physical, earthly loving arms and people I knew were praying over me as Faith was removed from my womb.

I knew this OB/G was praying over me, and praying for the soul of Faith now in heaven.

I knew God was showing himself in a time of suffering and heart ache.

I knew He was with me, showing me that He loves me.

I looked at the face of this woman, and I thanked God for her.

I thanked God that it was her hands handling our baby girl, lovingly, gently and with prayers of blessing over her life.

Even though I would rather that her hands would have been handing Brett and I our daughter, alive and well and loudly crying this July (my due date was July 6th), at least I knew she was handled with hands that know and love the same God that we serve, and that in the moment of loss...she was still handled with love and care.

Yesterday I was talking to my mom and sharing how difficult that moment had been when I saw the Dr's face on stage, and my mom told me that the Dr has been asking about me and wanting to know how I was doing. That she thinks of me and prays for me often. And that she herself believes that day was nothing less than God's hand in the day. I guess she wasn't even supposed to be there that day.  And I remember her telling us as she took my mom and I down to the OR waiting room that she has never gone to get a patient personally.

God was there that day. Proving that in this time He loved me still. Proving that He was sending His protection and earthly care in the form of this OB and her OR staff.

He was there.

And Faith was cared for, loved, and dignified.

And so was I.

Loved always Baby Faith!!  xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox