That's not the point of this post...
One of my good friends had a baby just a little over a week ago. I saw her and her beautiful baby girl at church this morning. I am so happy for this sweet friend. This is not her first child or marriage, but she has finally found true love and happiness in a wonderful Godly man, and she deserves every bit of it!
"I want to tell you that I held [baby girl's name] today and just cried for you. I cannot imagine how empty your arms felt. I don't mean to bring this up to cause you to cry but to honestly be able to tell you how sorry I am that God had that in His plan for your life. I know that His will and plans are always perfect but that doesn't mean that we always like the road He takes us on. You are an amazing and strong woman to endure what you have and I admire you and your never ending faith in Him."
This meant so, so much to me. Two years after Grady went to heaven, she is still thinking about me and my empty arms and what it must have been like.
I wish I could say that I don't remember, but I remember all too well...
I remember the gut-wrenching realization that he wasn't moving anymore and wasn't going to move again.
I remember the words of Dr. Joe, "I don't see a heartbeat either," confirming what I saw on the ultrasound screen.
I remember not knowing how in the world I was going to give birth to a dead baby.
I remember not knowing how in the world we were going to tell the girls their baby brother had died, inside of me. That just wasn't supposed to happen.
I remember how deafening the silence was in the c-section room when he was born and there were no cries...only sniffles of those in the room.
I remember seeing Grady for the first time, knowing he was dead but still warm from my body, looking like he was sleeping like a newborn might be.
I remember asking him what happened and why he had to go.
I remember spending two days with him, holding him on my chest and in my arms.
I remember kissing him goodbye, placing him in the basket and handing him over to the funeral director.
I remember crying myself to sleep in the rocker in the nursery, wishing to have him back on my chest to feel the weight of him safe at home and not just in a cold hospital room.
I remember the suffocating feeling of not being able to breathe deeply because my heart was so broken.
I remember waking up each morning and thinking, "No. Not another day to live through this hell."
I remember how it took me three hours just to get dressed because I was so depressed.
I remember how badly it irritated me when people would say "Well, you look good." What was I supposed to say in return? Thanks. My baby died. I'm not eating because I feel like I'm going to throw up all the time and I've lost 30 pounds in two weeks.
Oh, I remember every second of it. And it lives within me every day.
I'm so very glad that my friend didn't keep her thoughts and feelings to herself. It meant so much to me that she thought of me and Grady and let me know. Too often, people want to say things but are afraid of making that person cry or making them sad. Yes, I got very teary eyed when I read her text. But I was touched beyond belief. The tears are always there. They just surface more easily depending on the situation or circumstance.
I love the poem on my left side bar called Remembering by Elizabeth Dent. If you've never read it, take a minute to before you leave my blog.
And I don't know if this particular friend reads my blog regularly or at all, but if you do...
Thank you! I love you and am so happy for you!