Day #7: Memory
Today's topic hits me hard. Memories. This has been a difficult month for me because the memories of last year are coming at me in every direction. Today is the day when I was rushed to Sioux Falls by ambulance due to bleeding and a confusing ultrasound. I remember the fear, the panic, the hopelessness as I waited for the specialist in my hospital room in Sioux Falls. And then I remember the relief, the joy, the happiness after he told me everything was fine with my body and my baby. That I just needed to be "careful" since I had a weak spot on my uterus. But everything was going to be okay.
I remember going back to Sioux Falls two weeks later for another ultrasound with the specialist. When they asked if we wanted to know the gender, we didn't hesitate. "Yes!" Even though we did not find out the gender of our boys before they were delivered. But I felt differently this time. I wanted to bond with my baby this time because we had gone through so much already and I wanted to be able to talk to him or her in a more personal manner. When the ultrasound technician told us we were having a little girl, I started crying. Brett and I were both shocked and excited for this new adventure of having a girl in our family. We stopped at a store on our way home to buy a little girl onesie as a way to tell the boys they were going to have a little sister.
I remember how happy we all were. How we felt grateful that although we had gone through a big scare, everything was going to be okay. I remember feeling at peace. Everything felt good. But little did we know, those feelings would not last.
Looking back at these memories, I feel angry at God. If He was always going to take Gabriella away from us, why didn't He do it the day I started bleeding? Why did He allow us to feel relief that everything was going to be okay, when in fact it was not? Why did He allow us to plan, hope, and feel excited for our future with our baby girl when we were never going to experience it? Why put us through the emotional roller coaster for two months? Why not just take her from us before we started imagining her in our arms and our lives?
I don't know why God chose to take her when He did, but I am grateful for the time He gave me with her. I'm grateful that I was given the chance to find out she was a girl. To feel her move in my belly, to talk with her and bond with her. Because if she had died the day I started bleeding, I would never have been able to see her or hold her. And now, instead of anticipating a life together here, I can look forward to a life together forever in heaven. I imagine holding her in my arms again some day...but this time she will open her eyes. This time, she will smile and laugh. This time, she will be alive. And it will be good...it will be amazing...it will be perfect.
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