It still remember it like it was yesterday, I remember the details, I remember reliving the same exact day for 2 months.
3 years ago my dad came quietly into my room, with his hand on my shoulder he lightly shook me to wake me up, as I opened my eyes he said "Hey Lyssie, we think we lost the baby." and I...I couldn't speak, or think and all I could manage to say was "no, no, no, no, no..."
I remember getting out of bed in shock, still not knowing how to comprehend what I'd just been told. I remember telling my mom I would go to the hospital with her for an ultrasound to be sure that we lost the baby. I put on my light brown jacket, pulled my hair back, and we left. The 5 minute drive to the hospital, seemed like an hour with the deafening silence that filled the truck. We got their and they took us back, we waited in a room for the ultrasound tech, and I continued to pray over, and over, and over "Oh God, please breathe life back into this baby, please God please, I'll do anything, just please give me this." I can't even begin to count the amount of times that I prayed that prayer over the course of those three days.
The ultrasound tech entered the room, smeared the ultrasound cream on her belly, and placed the wand on her stomach. He looked, and looked, and looked, and he then began to type, "No Fetal Heartbeat" on the screen, and we lost it. I couldn't breathe, no matter how hard I tried to gasp for air, my chest tightened, and the physical pain that took over my body was enough to paralyze. I laid there by my moms feet, and just cried into the hospital bed, "why God, why, I don't understand, why. this is all I've wanted, a little sister, and you took her from me, why God why"
I remember our lovely midwife coming to the hospital to sit with my mom, while I went home to watch the kids so my dad could go to the hospital. I remember walking through the maze of hallways leaving the Labor & Delivery Ward, I remember the walls spinning, and the tears falling.
When I got home, the little ones were distracted by the video game, so I sat in our office and listened to praise and worship music, I prayed, and tried to hold in the tears for fear of upsetting the kids. I remember a few of our friends coming over to play with the little ones, as it was too overwhelming for us to chase them. I remember person, after person bringing food, and cards, and flowers, and offering to watch the little ones. I remember wanting to be thankful for their kind generous hearts, and their willingness to lend a hand in this treacherous time, but I also remember wishing I could just be alone to cry, I didn't want to be hugged, or touched, I wanted to cry, and scream because I was so angry.
I remember trying to reply to a text from my dad when the little ones began fighting, so I put down my phone and tried to figure out what the problem was, but in the moment of asking them to 'please stop fighting' I lost it, tears filled my eyes, and I had to leave the room I had no energy to deal with anything, and I didn't know how to help them cope with this big situation, in a way that they would understand.
I remember my dad texting me late that night to say "Addison is here, and she's cute too." I remember collapsing into my brothers arms, and just crying, because this isn't how it was supposed to be, this isn't how I wanted it to be, and I had no control over anything.
I remember going to the hospital the next day to see her, I remember holding her lifeless body, and just praying over, and over, that God would breathe life back into her, I begged, and pleaded with Him, please just let me have her. I sat, and I cried, I looked at her sweet face, her full head of hair, as I cradled her in my arms and stroked her sweet face.
I remember when it was time to go home, I remember laying Addison in a bassinet that had been all decorated in pinks, and purples, specially for her. I remember the nurse letting us go out the back door of the hospital so that we didn't have to walk through the crowds of people. I remember walking through the parking lot with an unbearable amount of pain in my chest because there was nothing in me that wanted to leave Addison there, and my heart broke knowing that I would never be able to hold her again. (And some days that all I want, just one more minute to cradle her, to remember what it felt like to hold her.)
I remember later that week when we had her funeral. I don't remember what the pastor said, I was far to emotionally exhausted, and this was never something I thought I would have to do. But I do remember wishing that people would stop hugging me, which sounds so selfish but if you've lost a loved one I'm sure you understand. I was irritated, and upset, exhausted, and angry, I wanted to go and be alone, I wanted to sleep because that was the only time I didn't feel any pain.
I remember reliving the same 3 days for months, I remember sinking into this never ending whole that consumed every part of me.
I remember it all. I haven't forgotten any of the details. The pain is still very, very, present...but as time goes on you learn how to numb it. The tears still fall, and some days it's still really unbearable. But God is good, all the time. He knows, and I trust that His plans far exceed my own.
I miss my little sister immensely, and I wonder what would have been, but I know God had different plans for her life, and I'm slowly becoming 'okay' with that.
I miss my little sister immensely, and I wonder what would have been, but I know God had different plans for her life, and I'm slowly becoming 'okay' with that.
| But as for me, I will always have hope; I will praise you more, and more.|
Psalm 71:14
