"My whole world is about to come crashing down."
That's what I wrote before I called our facilitator. In the course of ten minutes I'd missed two phone calls and a couple of texts. My body went numb. What could be so urgent? She'd changed her mind? She didn't want to place her child with us anymore?
Why would this happen? I asked. Why, when all the details had fallen so perfectly in to place would this happen? And all at once it came to me and I said aloud, "So that I can respond for His glory." Like a rushing wave I felt His presence. Then, just as soon as I'd known why all of this would happen, I knew that my world was about to come crashing down. So I wrote the words. And then I picked up the phone and I called.
She didn't want to tell me because Troy wasn't here. I told her she had to. I needed to know what had happened.
Oh how I wish her mother had changed her mind, had decided to parent her after all. Because then sweet Kate would still be alive.
I don't know why I feel compelled to write. Maybe because I've written the whole thing--told the whole story--and pouring my feelings out through my fingertips is the only thing that feels right.
I loved that baby. I love that baby. Her body is in a hospital in California and I am here and more than anything I want to scoop her up and hold her close and tell her that I'm sorry I wasn't there. I want to hold her mother and tell her I'm sorry I wasn't there. I want to go back in time and fix it all. I want to wake up and have it all be a lie.
That's what I wrote last night. Before I lost it completely and couldn't write another word. Before my grief grabbed me and made me hurt worse than I've ever hurt before.
I've led a charmed life. A life where the only people close to me that I've lost have been elderly. A life generally unmarked by grief. Not now. Now I hurt and I'm so sorry for what we've lost.
I'd bought these necklaces. The tiny one was for Kate. The circle was for her mother. I still plan to give the one to Kate's mom. But the tiny one--the one I bought on a short chain for a tiny neck--is around my own neck.
Because she will always, always be in my heart. I'll never see her or hold her or tell her how very much I love every inch of her. But I will never forget her. We are planning to go to California and hoping to be able to hold a small service for her. My friend sent me the most beautiful quote.
"How very softly you tiptoed into our world, almost silently, only a moment you stayed. Oh, but what an imprint your footprints have left on our hearts."
Friends, I hurt. But I know that I know that I know that God is always good. And I know that, above all, I must respond for his glory.