The Moments I can share

{my heart just seems to be too full to put fully into words... I can't express my gratitude enough for you who are walking with me, and I can't describe to you what I wish I could share. I encourage you to click on the pictures to see them up close- the pictures share the moments much more deeply than words...

Admittedly I've been putting off this post. My heart has been spilling over with things I want to write to all of you, but something about sitting down to type those things into text, words, and to collect pictures, is so... real. The things I have physically felt, seen, and emotionally tried to process in the last few days have been so undeniably real. Labor pains, seeing the brokenness of my daughter's tiny body, and now arranging for burial, I simply cannot tuck away in my heart to be dealt with another time. I can't think fluffy thoughts for a little while and pretend life is normal for a bit... I need my God more now than I ever have. Nothing about this can I do on my own strength.
I have moments where the flood of it all comes crashing over me, and I can barely breathe. But my anthem remains the same: No matter how hard the road ahead of us may be, we will get through WITH HOPE because of the God that walks with us.
I won't tell you all of Evelyn's birth story, because there are parts that you shouldn't have to carry. But here are the moments I can pass to you:

As strange as it sounds, I love the smell of the maternity ward. It smells (to me!) like new baby. It felt good to smell that again, even knowing my time there with Evelyn would be different. The hospital felt familiar, labor felt familiar, my epidural right at the very end felt familiar... :) My nurse was wonderful. She was assigned just to us, and even told us that she chose to work with us on purpose, because she knew what we were up against. She said she wanted to learn more in the field of loss and grief, and that she was honored to work with us. We were privileged to have her! She was so appropriately funny- Josh said, "it's either laugh or cry", and she kept us laughing until it was time to cry. Faithful friends stayed near us all night and into the next day. How blessed we are!
At 11:23 am on Wednesday, May 18th, Evelyn arrived! She weighed 8.6oz, and was 8" long. Dr. Hulton rushed in, and helped place my baby girl into my hands. Of course tears came to me, as we affectionately exclaimed at how tiny and sweet she was. I just stared and stared in awe. After a few minutes I couldn't see her any more, tears had clouded my vision. I just breathed, breathed, as I held my treasure. I think by then my body and heart were so exhausted, I hardly knew what to feel. Josh held Evelyn gently, and danced his only father-daughter dance with her until Heaven. I took pictures, it was beautiful. During that time I knew that my Father was holding me too, just like that. He was holding me, weeping over MY brokenness, and with such deep love- just as Josh was with Evelyn Rose. Then I knew what to feel: safe in my Father's arms, despite my broken heart.
Josh and I had several hours with little Evelyn. We had music on that Josh had chosen ahead of time (which he does with all our births!), we took pictures, we wept, we sat quietly and took in as much of our tiny treasure as we could. We knew that despite the brokenness of her body, Evelyn's spirit remains perfectly in tact- untouched, unmarred by this world- forever whole! When our time with Evelyn's body was over, I curled under my blankets and slept. Exhausted mentally, physically, we began the process of resting and healing.
I will never, never forget those hours. I will also never forget how deeply little Evelyn Rose's life changed me and my husband. She has shown us how deeply, beyond comprehension, the Father loves us. She has taught me to depend on Him for my very breath. She has given God the opportunity to show me over over again how He was watching out for me, even when I couldn't see it. She has deepened my faith.
Someday, face to face, I will thank her.
Until then, I will walk closely with my God.