Family

Three years.  In some respects it seems so much longer ago, but in others merely moments, really.  I remember it so clearly.  I was laying in a hospital bed surrounded by amazing nurse and a midwife who earned so much respect in the days that bracketed that moment.  My tiny baby boy's little heart was beating its final beats and all became still within me.  I knew he was gone but refused to confirm until Craig could be by my side.  He was stuck in Alabama for the night and would arrive just before noon the following day.  My mom was with me, but our words were few.  How could this be happening?  It had only been six months before that we lost dad in his tragic accident, and one year since Kim died.  How old this baby that had become a symbol of hope during such tough times be taken as well?

Craig arrived the next day and my guard finally fell.  I collapsed in his arms and begged him to just hold me forever.  Later in the day we had an ultrasound. The Doctor's face is frozen in my memory as her eyes focused on the screen, scanning for the tiny flicker that meant life.  There was none.  The silence of the room spoke volumes.

I chose to deliver our baby rather than have a procedure to remove it.  From the second I saw him there was an odd mix of emotion created within me that has never left.  I became a mom, but one with a baby who didn't ever take his first breath.  He didn't need me, but I needed him so very much.  There was so much raw pain in my heart, and as Craig and I held each other, we made a promise.  Our family's journey would not--could not--end in this place.  We would somehow have another child someday and tell them the story of their big little brother, Christopher Job.

I never would have imagined that three years later we would be parents to a very healthy and very loved almost two year old little Lauren and a few weeks away from a new baby joining out family.  God has been so gracious to us.  We are greatly blessed, indeed, but have not forgotten our sweet firstborn.  We will never forget.

Tomorrow, I'll go through the box of memories we have from that day.  I'll look at the pictures and smell the little hat that he wore...hoping that I can still smell the baby oil he was bathed in.  I'll fall in love all over again with my little Christopher Job whose time with us ended far too soon, and I'll celebrate the day that I held him.

Thank you, Lord, for the gift we named Christopher Job and for allowing us to be his parents.  And thank you for walking with us through those difficult moments and bringing us to a place of healing.

Bless the Lord, oh my soul. Worship His holy name!  Whatever may pass and whatever lies before me, let me be singing when the evening comes!