Loving My Story

I was reading a friends blog the other day, and a short little phrase of honesty really stood out to me.  It wasn't what she was writing about, or even what she intended to have "stick" with the reader, but it stopped me in my tracks.  In addition to saying that she loved her family and she loved her life, she also loved her story.  She is also a baby loss momma, and in the moment I was reading her blog post, I thought to myself "How can she say she loves her story?"  That got me thinking about our story, Whitney's story.  I love Whitney and I am so thankful for her life, but do I love our story?

At first, I answered "no."  An angry "no" to be honest.  Her story is not one that I would have chosen to write, though there are parts of it that are good.  I love the fact that I got to carry her and be her mom- but why was it only for 31 weeks?  And why did it have to be under such painful circumstances?  I loved giving birth to Whitney.  But why did she have to be dead when it happened?  Why could I never hear her cries or see life in her eyes?  I hate that part of her story.  I love that my mom was able to be at the hospital.  That was SUCH a God-thing.  She was flying in from EGYPT the day we found out Whitney passed away.  SHE WAS ALREADY ON HER WAY TO SEE ME!  But I hate that it all happened too early.

So on the surface, if you ask me "Do I love my story?" my answer would be no.  No, I really don't.  Its full of heartache and pain and death and loss.  Empty arms and vacant spaces that Whitney should be filling.  But just this weekend, I went out to lunch with a friend.  She's pregnant and we were talking about our previous childbirth experiences (as any and all moms do- by the way, how is it that conversations always seem to gravitate towards this?  Guess its just my season of life.  I definitely enjoy it, though!) and she asked something about Whitney.  I told her with joy about how my mom was able to be there, and my sister- who had a 3 month old baby of her own at home- were able to both be there.  With a heart full of loving gratitude I recounted details of that day Whitney was born- details that, on the surface, I seem to forget.  

Yes, Whitney's pregnancy was hard.  Sometimes it was sad.  Of course I wish that it had turned out differently.  I wish she were here to teach Gia things that only a big sister can.  But Whitney's story is overflowing with evidences of God's grace and mercy.  Visual, emotional, spiritual and senitmental reminders that even though sin corrupts things on this earth temporarily, God is still on His throne and He is eternally good.  He is forever loving towards ALL he has made and has compassion on His children (Psalm 145)!  And that is the part of Whitney's story that I LOVE.  

After thinking about all of those things, I asked myself the question again.  Do I love my story?  Yes.  Yes, yes, 100 times, yes!  I love that I was able to be pregnant with her in the first place.  Remember, we tried 3 years to get pregnant.  I loved telling my husband I was pregnant.  I loved buying maternity clothes & dreaming up nurseries.  Receiving Whitney's diagnosis was painful, but I love that God spoke through our hearts to the doctor we saw at the Children's Hospital.  It may not have changed his life forever, but it was definitely a witness to the goodness of our God.  Giving birth to our daughter, knowing she was already in Heaven was hard.  But God's hand was on us in ways I have never felt before and have never experienced since.  I love that part of the story.  And most of all, I love that God is still using Whitney to change people's lives.  He is still using her short life and beautiful story in all kinds of ways... helping people through miscarriages and other losses, helping families enjoy the time they do have with their children, helping parents make the difficult decision to continue a pregnancy despite a fatal diagnosis.  And most of all, giving HOPE.  I love that God has allowed such a potent theme of compassion and grace to flow through my life, and prayerfully, into the lives of others.

So yes, I love my story.  Pain, loss, heartache and all.  Because I love and live for a risen Saviour- one who has conquered the grave and gives grace freely to anyone who will follow after Him. So I guess that's just what I'm trying to do, and loving my story is a good place to start.  What about you?  What is your story?  Do you love it?