Tori writes Kindergarten Stole My Zen and is an amazing human being. We are connected through both grief and joy and I am grateful to have her here today with a bittersweet letter to the powers that be.
To God and the Angels,
I thought You’d explain the mess.
I thought You’d teach me before I’d have to ask.
I thought You’d speak directly to me so I didn’t have to struggle to hear You.
Where were You the day my body failed our baby?
I took my vitamins, wrote my affirmations daily, meditated, and prayed for a well baby.
I thought my children would be two years apart and in matching clothes, maybe even sharing bunk beds.
As the needles punctured my abdomen, the anguish my heart felt was far worse than the pain.
Watching the black and white screen with a baby who barely moved crumbled my spirit and made me wonder what I could’ve done to make this happen.
I blamed myself. My hormones. My distrust.
My faith was truly shaken to the core.
I wanted only to blink and see a thriving, moving, active baby with a great heart rate and perfect anatomy.
Not one with cysts in his brain, transposition of the great vessels, and a multitude of other problems.
“I’m sorry, but your baby has a slim to no chance of survival.”
I took a deep breath as the perinatologist gave me his card and told me I could go to another hospital to be induced for a terribly sick baby who would never survive.
I decided against a different hospital and went to my hospital. To the birth center I work at.
And I saw You there. I saw You in the way the sun shined through on my face during my long labor.
I saw You in my husband’s face.
I saw You in my friends’ faces.
I saw You when I delivered our stillborn son in all his peacefulness.
As we held him I felt Your love surround us.
I knew there was a bigger plan for us, but I struggled with what it was.
Then the grief impaled me.
I tried to trust You.
I tried to believe.
I cried. I took out my anger on my sweet husband and toddler.
I struggled with everything. The simplest things made me lose patience and strength.
I didn’t dare dream of anything. I was so afraid You’d steal it away.
Then, the day I fell to my knees when I found out I was pregnant again.
I told You I couldn’t do it.
I told You I wasn’t ready. It had only been a little over a year.
I couldn’t do it again. Not again.
You told me to just trust You.
I told you you were on crack!
I felt like I was trapped, but had nowhere to turn.
Except to You.
I did turn to You.
I did my best to believe.
There were many tears.
There was much anxiety.
And then, he arrived.
Safe and sound.
In my arms.
And part of my broken heart healed.
It trusted again.
It believed again.
I have to say, it hasn’t been the simplest of times, but it’s what You allowed.
You must have known something about me.
I must be stronger than I thought I was.
And I am reminded of the fact that I was given this life because You must have thought I was strong enough to live it.
So for that, I thank You.