We are Jedidiah.

For a few weeks now I have been dealing with nausea, on and off throughout the days, often awakening me in the night.  I knew that I was pregnant with Jedidiah because I kept waking up nauseous in the night.  The first night this round of nausea happened, I began crying, remembering my pregnancy with our boy.  It might sound strange, but even though I knew that I wasn’t pregnant again, I felt that another pregnancy would be disloyal to Jedidiah.  I wondered, especially so soon, how I could possibly give my heart to another baby after losing my sweet Jedidiah.

Today–the 8th, two long months–lots of memories, lots of conflicting emotions…

We just went to see the progress on Jedidiah’s stained glass frame.  It isn’t anything like I had originally envisioned, but I guess that shows even more why stained glass is such a powerful analogy to our lives in God’s hands.  I couldn’t imagine it being beautiful with the changes we needed to make to be able to afford such a wonderful piece, yet it is.  It much more than I expected when all the plans got changed.

More than that, Mr. Hendricks only put one person’s name on their square, even though many people put their names on theirs.  The only name… ‘Savannah,’ the name we gave our little one who we lost 15 months ago due to a tubal pregnancy.  ‘Grace’ is written on another square with a cross.  Her middle name is Grace.  I just couldn’t believe it… that God would plan out our daughter’s name our our son’s frame.  And, that Savannah’s square would say, “I love you, Jedi.”

Some might say, “Coincidence.”  But, I heard God whisper today.

I cannot believe I said “I was like…” in the interview!!! Oh well. *laughing sigh*

As many of you know, we were blessed to be a part of NewsChannel 5’s story about Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep.  The Area Coordinator, Allen, was being followed by Heather and Nathan to bring awareness to this awesome organization.  The story aired tonight on the 10 o’clock news.  They did a great job!

I had seen one promo in which I was able to hear Jedidiah’s sweet noises.  Then, during the story, I not only saw but heard our son again.  Ahhh, he was so sweet, so amazing, so wonderful to hold.  I may be having bad moments during this grieving process, but I am so grateful for the good ones– the laughter that continues, the smiles when I remember his father and brothers holding him, the love that flows from family, friends and strangers alike– and for the opportunity for Jedidiah’s 63660 to reach more families.

We had prepared for 17 weeks and two days to say goodbye to our son.  We knew that the end would come, quickly.  When he was born I was so tired, so disoriented, that I didn’t even tell them that he had come until the nurse told me not to push.  I don’t know how many moments passed after he was born until I told her.  Then, I heard his short, quick cry and nothing more.  They handed him to me after Jim had asked the unknowing nurse to move away and not scrub on him.  He was so gray and small and quiet, not moving.  Then, as he pinked up and clearly breathed, opening his eyes, I began to hope that we would have enough time with him that James and Joshua would meet him, too.  I was sad, but I was so hopeful that he would beat the odds against him.  Then, they told me his heart rate had dropped into the 60s, but within just an hour, he had rebounded to the 120s, they were moving us to a post-partum room, and my little man looked so perfect, even with his cleft palate and lip.  I thought, maybe, just maybe, that he would be able to come home, be with us, and live longer than anyone ever hoped.  At 2pm my world shattered.  After almost 9 hours of really thinking he would defy them all, he started being in distress.  My hope was false; my dreams lay mutilated upon my heart.

The false hope was my own fault. I knew, had known for 17 weeks and 2 days, that I was going to say goodbye quickly.  I thought I would do it with glorifying the LORD.  My heart hurts so much and my hope is so destroyed that I don’t see how anything I say, do, think, or feel glorifies Him.  Don’t get me wrong, it isn’t Him.  He hasn’t changed; He hasn’t moved.  He never promised ease or perfection.  He didn’t place that false hope into me.  I did that.  I’m the one who doesn’t know what it means to glorify Him anymore.

And, yet, He is still right here, holding me, loving me, and knowing that His plan is perfect.