A Phone Call to the Hospital & Navigating New Seasons

teddy bearIt felt strange to call the labor and delivery floor of the hospital today. I needed to make arrangements for the donations we are planning on making next week in Esther’s memory. I have put it off for weeks now. I guess I was afraid that I would break down while trying to explain my story and my desire to help another family.

So finally today, with a pounding heart and shaking hands, I picked up the phone and dialed the number. After being transferred to a couple different people, I told my story briefly to a staff member. She was kind and said they would welcome a donation and it would be used the next time they had need of “something like that.” I was reminded abruptly that most people who go into the hospital pregnant, come out happily with a baby. Not everyday do the nurses and staff in labor and delivery need materials on grief. It is supposed to be the “happy floor” of the hospital. Still, I know there are other families like ours, who will face heartache instead of joy at their visit to the second floor. I am thankful we will be able to provide some comfort and love to these families.

Next week, instead of bringing our baby home, we will be dropping off a basket of hope to another hurting couple. This will be the first Esther’s Hope project.

I still haven’t decided who will be delivering our care package. All along, I have felt it would be too  much for me to walk back into the labor and delivery floor where I encountered the deepest pain of my life. Yet some part of me feels that I should be the one to take it – that it would be good for me. I’m not sure. Adam, my wonderful “knight in shining armor,” has already offered to be the delivery person. Maybe we will do it together.

I have noticed along this journey, that I regularly come to crossroads with the question, “What now?” Each turn in the road brings new uncharted territory. Each new week brings with it the opportunity for more decisions and deeper trust in our Lord. Next week will be no exception. I have found that some of the deepest valleys of grief actually come whenever the hard, but occupying things, are over. After we birthed Esther, we had her funeral to plan. I will never forget the day after the service, when everyone (including Adam) went back to work, the flowers were dying, and I was left with the deepest sense of emptiness I have ever known. Then I remember my last doctor visit regarding this pregnancy and birth, and realizing once again, it was “over.” Then I remember ordering her gravestone. After it was placed, I felt the finality of it all again. We planned and ordered several “memory” items to hold onto of Esther. Once we received them the same “let down” came. The silent, alone times are the most difficult. I guess it has helped to have something I can be thinking about and “doing” in regards to my second baby. It makes me feel like even though I can’t “nurture” her any longer, I am still nurturing the memories of who she is to us.

So as I have anticipated July 28 for so long now, and I have thought about and planned a memory basket donation in Esther’s memory, I anticipate the same feelings of “ending” to come afterward.

I guess these harsh feelings are fresh reminders that this is not our real home. The longings deep inside of us are for things greater than this world can ever offer: lasting comfort, restoration, healing, and wholeness of our family. I’m reminded of a song by Laura Story called Blessings. I particularly like the line in it that says:

“What if my greatest disappointments, and the aching of this life, is the revealing of a greater thirst, this world can’t satisfy?”

The real emptiness we are looking to fill will not be satisfied by anything in this world. It can only be filled by the presence of Jesus and the hope of our eternity in heaven.

For the last 5 months, I have mourned the fact that I am no longer pregnant. Now we are entering the time when our baby girl would be here, growing and getting to know her mommy, daddy, and big sister. As we enter this new season, I am trusting that God will continue to carry us day by day. And I am choosing to fix my eyes afresh on what is waiting for us at the end…That alone gives us strength to keep running THIS RACE.

 

This post linked to Carrie This Home

Comments

  1. Crying with you while I read this … Knowing and believing with you for supernatural strength for you to make it through next week and beyond… I love you and wish I could take the pain for you…

  2. That song has ministered to me through many hard times. That line in particular has been a major heart help. Thanks for sharing your story. I love you sis!

  3. Christie says:

    I think it’s wonderful that you are making a basket of hope for another family. May you find some peace and healing in giving a care package in honor of Esther. You are in my thoughts and prayers as July 28 approaches.

  4. I will be praying for you as Esther’s due date approaches. I just got through my Lucy’s due date at the beginning of July. For me, the anticipation was much worse than the actual day. Actually, I had so much peace on her due date and I thought, “All that worry and dread was for nothing.” I kept reminding myself that it’s just a day on a calendar. It doesn’t change the past, it doesn’t change where Lucy is and it doesn’t change my love for her. Hoping Esther’s due date is full of peace for you.

    • Kalyn from Mommy's Heavenly Dream says:

      Thank You Bethany! I appreciate you sharing your experience. I think about your family often. Praying that you continue to find the hope that only Jesus gives.

      -Kalyn

  5. Doug Cherry says:

    That is powerful. Painful, but powerful and in the power is the hope to heal and go higher and further because of Esther Kate. I am grateful that I can pass this post along to a friend that is hurting over the loss of a loved one.

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