It was almost this time exactly, one year ago, as we drove to the hospital, that I knew our son was going to be with Jesus much sooner than anyone had hoped. I remember that day. Trying everything to stop the contractions. Telling myself that if I just could relax enough, he would stay put. I lied in bed for most of the afternoon. Adam came home from work early. I took a bath. Then a shower. I didn’t want to meet him yet. Why wasn’t he waiting until the 13th???

Around 6:30, after getting Audrey in bed, I called my dad and told him we needed to go to the hospital. And then I sat in silent disbelief as Adam hurriedly packed a bag. I cried the whole way to the hospital. Every time a nurse walked into our triage room, I cried some more. Every now and then I would laugh nervously as the medical staff tried to assure me that everything was going to be ok, despite the meticulous plans we had in place for the scheduled c section that was supposed to take place just 3 days later.

I never wanted to admit to myself that our son wasn’t coming home. I had to have hope for his life or my pregnancy would have been miserable. So I had hope. But on that dark drive to the hospital, my hope turned to despair; or at least a huge amount of worry and fear. As I sit here tonight, one year removed from that car ride and walk into OB Emergency, it feels almost exactly the same. Hope is being shadowed by worry and fear. Worry and fear over what tomorrow will bring. Facing our son’s first birthday without him is impossible to prepare for. Our hearts are broken from his loss but they are equally as joyful over his place in heaven. It’s a weird place we find ourselves in. God is good. We know that. But this death challenges us. It has and continues to shape our faith and our relationship with the good God we serve. I have to keep reminding myself that all of the worry and fear about tomorrow, (just like a year ago) is countered by the enormous amount of hope and joy we get from our Father.

It is my prayer that tonight I can sleep. That unlike a year ago, instead of being awake in worry and fear, that I would rest. Rest not just as a human who needs sleep, but really rest in the Father who has sustained me through all of this. That instead of fearing what tomorrow brings, I can anticipate the abundant joy that comes from being a child of God, and knowing that my son is singing Holy, Holy, Holy with the angels.