Cradled in Hopeનમૂનો

Two days after Bridget was born, Matt and I visited the funeral home to hold her one more time before she would be placed in her casket. We brought my mint green blankie from childhood and bundled her, inside her cradle, in the larger blanket.

Matt and I took turns reading letters to her, singing songs, and kissing her sweet face—our lips enveloping her little button nose and tiny lips in one kiss. Holding her again, for the last time in my earthly life, brought a swell of emotions and hormones.

That day, my milk came in with full force—a brutal reminder that my body was prepared to nourish a life that wasn’t here anymore. My breast tissue was engorged, throbbing with milk I didn’t need. Not knowing what to do, I texted a friend who had experienced stillbirth.

She gave me advice on how to dry up my milk, but I’ll never forget something she said: “Your milk coming in after your baby died is like getting kicked when you’re down.” Yes, that’s exactly how it felt. I took a hot shower to relieve the intense physical pain.

Standing naked and vulnerable in the shower, I burst into uncontrollable tears as milk seeped from where Bridget should have been latched. I knelt on the shower floor as hot water pelted my back. I cried out to God: “I miss her so much. I just want her back. I would do anything to be pregnant with her right now! My whole body aches for her. God, I can’t do this!”

Absolutely everything felt unbearably empty: my womb, my arms, our home. I longed for her to be safe in my belly and wondered if I would survive the crushing weight of my sorrow. If you’ve ever had to flush your toilet after experiencing an early miscarriage or leave the hospital without the precious baby once nestled inside your womb, you know this kind of intense anguish.

As the nursery you prepared for them sits painfully empty, the reality of their death sets in—and so do all the questions: Is Jesus really who He said He is? If so, is Heaven real? How can I be sure my baby is there? Will I ever be with them again?

What if you do believe in God, Jesus, and Heaven, yet you wrestle with doubts? Friend, if you do, you are not alone. Personally speaking, I wish God would split the sky for a second so I could see the glory of Heaven with my own two eyes. If I could see Bridget there, happy in Paradise, it would change my perspective for the rest of my life. I’d have peace about her being there, and it’d be easier to focus the rest of my days on my journey to my Heavenly Home.

However, our relationship with Him is based on faith. We cannot see God. We have not met Jesus in the flesh. We have not been to Heaven. Believing in their existence requires us to have faith. And praise God, our firm foundation of faith isn’t some brainwashed, wishful-thinking kind of hope. This is the bet-your-life-on-it, cling-with-all-your-might kind of hope, secured in the really-did-happen Resurrection of Jesus.

When we take our last breath on this earth, we will be eternally glad we placed our faith in Him—for at that moment, our faith will finally become sight as we gaze upon His glory in the splendor of Heaven!

Closing Question/Action Step: Are you struggling with doubts? Where are you in your faith journey right now? Identify any areas of unbelief and surrender them to the Lord.