She continues to live

We had the appointment with our pediatrician today. As we walked in, this cloud just fell over me. I realized the last time I was there was literally like 15 hours after labor and with my sweet baby.

At that appointment on June 12th, I remember standing the whole time because I was still so sore and all there was was hard wood chairs.
More importantly, I remember lil Greyson crying as she had to get naked and weighed, she weighed exactly 5 pounds.
Our Doctor loved her and said she was perfectly fine. I remember our doctor was holding her and Greyson was a little upset. The doc looked at me and said, "She won't do this once she is back in your arms."  I took her cute lil self back and sure enough, she calmed down.

But today was different. Today she helped us go through the whole Coroner's Report. It was confirming that we did nothing wrong and that there was nothing wrong with lil Greyson that they were able to find.
Still, normally SIDS doesn't happen until the baby is more like 1 month old, not 2 days.

She asked us if we had any questions, and I told her about a few things that had bothered me and if they had any correlation with baby G's death... they of course did not. She said, even parents blame themselves or wonder what they could've done if their 7yr old isn't doing well in school, etc.

Then our Doc put the papers down...& looked at me...& asked me how I was doing.

 Like really asked.

Not the, "How are ya" drive by...  the look directly at you, into your soul, because I actually want to know...

I got through about  2 words. I'd prefer the drive-by most days. Easier.

Nothing prepares you for having to meet with a doctor and talk about how and why your daughter died. So, I was doing pretty good the whole first 30 minutes, sipping on my homemade smoothy. If I felt "the lump", I'd just take another sip and refocus.

But then she wanted to know if I felt like it was my fault.


While the Lord gives peace without any understanding, there are always little pop-up's in my head, like...

....Remember how you layed on your belly until like 8 months pregnant?
....Remember how you didn't even gain 5 pounds until week 25?
....Remember how you threw up all over the place week 17-25? Especially that one day where you threw up every bite x12, you even threw up Sprite. (Which if you have never thrown up, I strongly hope one day you, too can experience. Weirdest fizzy feeling ever, kinda "fun")
....plus more...

But I know know know know if the Lord wanted us to have her.....we'd have her.
For some special reason He wants her and the more I get hung up on questions mentioned above, the more I am stuck in fear.

Fear to keep going.

Fear to have hope.

Fear that I could've possibly controlled the life and death and of our baby.

 Not possible.

That takes all the credit away from Jesus. He is the Maker of life and He has our days numbered. So, why should I fear? Or question?

It's just painful to hear how perfect your baby was, when she is not still alive to prove it.

I trust Jesus. I trust Him. I do. Even through the mountains of pain.

At the funeral of my sweet friend, Naomi Friday night, the Pastor talked about her life...and about how Naomi's greatest achievement was knowing Jesus. Nothing else mattered.

Wow. Because of that...death has lost it's sting! Thank you Jesus! Thank you.

The thing he also said that resounds in my mind constantly is that Naomi continues to live.

She continues to live. Naomi continues to live with Jesus.

She continues to live. GREYSON continues to live...

She lives with Jesus. My Savior, my Father, my comforter, protector, provider, healer, my faithful FRIEND. What better place for her?

 I deeply deeply deeply want to just hold her for a lil while, kiss her cute lil lips, spank her lil booty, and I live with the hope that someday I will get to.

But I also live with the satisfaction that God has adopted her until I get there. He will kiss her every time I ask Him to. He will hug her and hold her until I am there.

She continues to live.