Koralyn would have been 2 years old on April 9, 2014. She would be toddling around in cute little jumpers and dresses. She would have little teeth and maybe little curls and would squeal at her silly brothers when they act goofy. She would be amazing and beautiful and she is, I just don't have the gift of watching her grow and fight and live here on this earth. She was a fighter, a beautiful, brave fighter and I would love to see her spitfire attitude at the sweet age of 2! How sweet it would be to hear her call me mama and to watch her wait at the window in excitement for her daddy to pull in after work.
As I was rocking our sweet Abram Jace to sleep in the same chair I rocked his brothers in and never had the privilege to rock his sister in; I was thinking about earlier in the evening when my Sister In Law text me about her sonogram with her sweet baby boy. I thought about her excitement and it brought a memory back of one of our sonograms with Koralyn. The first one where we knew something was seriously wrong with the health of our sweet unborn daughter. I thought back to the feelings of fear and helplessness we experienced in that dark room. I remembered how Amos was sitting next to, and a little below me, as I was perched up on the exam table. He was holding my hand as we both sobbed at the news no parent ever wants to hear. I can tell you that my soul suddenly felt as gray as the walls in that tiny room that seemed to have collapsed on top of us as our naive thinking that all our babies would be healthy came crashing down around us.
For the first time since that day and all the ones that followed I thought to myself; wow that seems like so long ago. That seems like years ago, that deep, dark scary space seems so far from this moment with my precious 4 month old baby boy. This has never been my thought when it comes to Koralyn or the loss of my mother. Most days it all seems so close and fresh and new. So raw and seeping with heartache and pain, and yet for the first time I can say, wow that was long ago, and feel it in my soul.
It hasn't been easy, this trying to live with grief as a companion. Trying to reconcile all thats happened and still find Joy in each day. Trying just to stop and breathe and wrap my mind around everything that occurred in such a short span of time. While it was going on I put my head down and trudged through those deep dark waters.
I look back in amazement and shock at the things I did. The time I sat in my daughter's nicu room reading my mom's fatal accident report that had just come in the mail. The part where she told the EMTs her chest and her leg hurt. The leg, with the foot that was mangled and almost torn away. Reading the part where they couldn't properly place an iv and then as they were pulling up to the hospital them trying in desperation to resuscitate her as she suffered cardiac arrest, probably due to the blood loss she suffered with her leg injury. I sat and wondered about her last moments, her last thoughts. Was she scared? Did she see it coming. Did she think of us. I worry about how vunerable she was in those moments, lying on the asphalt. what was running through her mind? I prayed she wasn't afraid and she didn't worry of us, but knowing her she did; she was always worried about us. I know now thats just what moms do.
Or thinking of all the times Koralyn had a crisis of some sort. Like the day she started pooping blood and had to be reintubated because her sats dropped so low. I remember the doctors rushing in and trying without success and much frustration to put the breathing tube down her throat. I stood calmly and quietly in the corner, just kind of watching as if the baby they were working on was not my daughter. Even being asked by several nurses and doctors if I was okay, if I wanted to leave. Standing, replying calmly, no to each one and thinking, whats the big deal? It isn't until later after she is gone that I look back in irony and think to myself; she was dying in those moments, she could have died and I stood there not knowing the full weight of it all. Stupid and naive to the reality of our situation. All those doctors and nurses knowing full well what they were looking at, but not me, not then at least.
Now there are days when I stop in shock and grief and think to myself: what in the hell just happened? Try to take stock and make sense somehow. Days when I want nothing more then to hear my mother's voice and tell her about my day and my kids. To share with her the grief I feel of losing my daughter. To ask her questions and advice. To thank her, to just have her back for a fleeting moment. To not believe the lie that life has been unfair to me, but the truth that God has a good and perfect plan for me, for her, and all of us truly.
What has it been like to live in this aftermath? Both awful and wonderful. Peaceful and anxiety ridden. Amazing, and at times brutal. I guess that is life really isn't it? Learning how to reconcile that life is this gift and it can be all these things at once. Scary, uncertain, and beautiful. I try hard most days to cling to the Hope I have and not the fear or grief. Most days I do pretty good, other days I wallow in my grief and pity, and I think that is okay as long as I don't stay there.
I know it has been nothing but God's grace that has brought me through the last two years. His grace shows up in my husband's love and devotion to me and our family. His grace shows up in my boys laughter and my sweet new baby's cries. His grace shows up in every kind gesture and word in remembrance of our sweet Koralyn and my mom. His grace shows up on the days when I question why my baby, why my mom at such a young age, and now why my dad stricken with cancer at 57? His grace is there in all the whys and the questions and the great sorrow. I always come back to the great anchor of his grace and his mercy.
I know I will continue to lean on my faith and not my sight to help me make it through each day yet to come.
"Let us then approach God's throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need." Hebrews 4:16
