Life is What Happens, When You Make Other Plans

I have kind of ignored this blog! Only because life has been a bit insane, and crazy, and busy, and sad, and fun, and everything all into one.

It all started with a trip to Utah, to visit family. We went for Labor Day weekend, and it was a good trip. We had fun visiting with friends and family. The kids love going back and seeing Grandma & Grandpa.

A few days after I got back, I got a phone call from one of my 4 sisters, about our youngest sister, who was in need of our prayers, because she could no longer feel her baby moving, and she was going in for a ultrasound because her midwife could not find a heartbeat. My heart sunk immediately, and I burst into tears, and felt like a river of salt water was rushing down my face. I don't think I have ever prayed, hoped, believed in miracles, more than ever! I had a horrible feeling, but still was hoping that everything would be okay, you know one of those times where you tell yourself "This doesn't happen to OUR family!" Well, it did. I got the dreaded return phone call that they had lost the baby, at 37 weeks along. I felt worse than I did when I got the phone call letting me know that my father had passed away. This is my sister whom I have not spoken to in 2 1/2 years, because of some very harsh e-mails sent to me on her behalf, trying to defend my mother, when it was just a misunderstanding. All of that didn't matter anymore. I packed up my car, my kids, in the still full suit cases from the previous trip to Utah, and drove immediately the next morning back to Utah. What else should I have done? I had to be there for my youngest sister. I cannot even begin to imagine the pain she was feeling, to loose a child, in any circumstance is just not even fathomable to me.

The whole 7 hours and 45 minute drive was spent saying over and over again that "I believe in miracles!" Never hoping more for one than I was now. I just wanted little Sage to be born, and take a miracle of air into her lungs, and scream that sweet newborn first cry. I cried and cried myself, wishing, hoping, wanting my sister to be spared the heartache she was already feeling, as she was in labor.

I got the call with a few hours left to drive, that she delivered the baby after hours and hours of labor. She didn't take that miracle breath, she didn't open her eyes, she had already gone back to her Heavenly Father. I still cannot even begin to understand the feelings she and her husband felt at that moment.

I got to the hospital, to see many tear filled eyes in the waiting room. Someone went and got my mother so she could sit with my kids, while I went back into my sisters room. My little sister whom I haven't seen in almost 4 years, since my father's funeral, was sitting in the corner, rocking her sweet baby, with tears falling down her face. This sweet baby, wrapped in a blanket, wearing the clothes they bought as her coming home outfit, perfect, still, pink, beautiful. She was dreaming, that's what I wanted to believe. She asked me if I wanted to hold her, I hesitated, not knowing if I could handle it, and not wanting to take her away from her mother, who already so dearly missed her. I held her. My heart sank even more, ached, it was unbearable.

I gave her back so they could say their final goodbyes, and went back out to be with my children, and my mother.

My sister is still not well, as expected. The only thing that will help her, is to have her baby.

I hope and pray everyday that my sister and her husband have the strength to continue on, and live a full life, full of love and happiness, with their 2 year old son.

I went back a few week later, again, to spend more time with her family and my mother. It is so hard to know the right words, not to say the wrong ones. I just want her to know that I love her, and want all the love she deserves for them.