I know everyone is looking forward to the holidays, if you are not already lying in the sun absorbing the rays (that would be for those of us in the Southern Hemisphere of course) or putting on layers and layers of clothing before heading out to build snowmen (romanticized view of snow countries:).
This year more than most I am reminded of how many families or individuals are not in that space. The holiday cheer, the joy and the celebrations. Again I was reminded yesterday of how there are those who are in a vulnerable place needing lots of support. I was in that place 4 years ago.
I had just lost my daughter. Many of you know Ruthie, but I had another daughter before her - only for 9 months but she was mine.
At that time I wrote an article in the Christmas of 2007. A story of loss and comfort. A story of tears and of hope. I would like to share this story with you now and trust that if you are going through something that you feel you cannot cope with - there is someone who understands something (not everything) of how you feel during this season. And our
God who will love you through it.
My Precious Daughter
Today is the day of
gifts and presents, a day of blessings and surprises. Yet I wonder to
myself why I feel the urge to write with my family outside. Children
running around, laughing – the smell of food cooking and conversations
drifting in through the door. My mind is drawn back to gifts I have
received over the years and yet there is one gift that I will never
forget, and one which brings both a sadness, joy and longing rushing in.
My precious little gift from our Father – my daughter, Savannah.
I
was told by the gynecologist that he was concerned that she was small
and that she was growing too slowly but I never even suspected that
there was a problem. I had three robust, healthy boys. I was expecting
my first daughter, which in itself was a wonderful surprise as we had
never really expected to have a little girl. As the thought of having a
daughter grew, I became aware of other little girls, thinking – she'll
be a little like her, and she'll probably have eyes like that little
girl, and oh I would love to buy her a little dress just like that one.
When
the day of delivery came, I gave birth yet before I had even seen her, a
paediatrician came to see me and told me that she had Trisomy 18, a
fatal chromosomal disorder. Everything that could be wrong was wrong
with her. Her insides were a mess, her heart was weak and had a hole,
she had Pneumonia and the doctor said she would probably not live more
than 48 hours. I sat in shock and asked him to bring her to me, as they
had still not shown me my daughter, before they transferred her to a
neighbouring government hospital for intensive care as we had no medical
aid.
They
brought her in, wrapped up tight in this little blanket from which a
tiny face peeked out, with little eyes that looked back at me so
trustingly. I couldn't see what was wrong; my mind and heart could not
make sense of what had happened nor what was wrong with her. They took
her away and I was left at the hospital. My mind surged. I felt close to
hysteria. I wanted to shout to the heavens
.....WWWWWHHHHHHHHYYYYYY??????????
Friends
of ours arrived and brought a word of encouragement, I heard words like
“faith” “fight for her because no one else can” , “don't give up hope”
but they were all a blur. I remember looking at them thinking – How can
you say that? Do you know? Do you understand? I had visitors, all loving
family from the church reassuring me, bringing gifts and I remember
thinking - how can they be so calm? My world had fallen apart, and my
thoughts were anything but loving and Christian. This couldn't be a
gift from God. You hear all the time that God doesn't make mistakes but
how could he have allowed this to happen knowing that she was going to
die prematurely?
The
next 4 weeks were a blur. Parents came down, friends supported us. I
lived at the hospital and lived in a place of never knowing whether I
would arrive to another exhausting day or to be told she was gone. The
fact that she lived past 48 hours in itself was a miracle. People came
from everywhere and prayed for her. Old pastors, friends and family
phoned from overseas and everyone was crying with us. In my mind I kept
thinking “God what did I do wrong? Why are you punishing me and why are
you punishing this little body with tubes? How could a loving Father
allow this? How could He watch His little girl Savannah suffer like this
as they stuck needle after needle into her little body? Had I been
disobedient, had I done something so bad to be punished like this?
After
24 arduous days we took her home when it became clear that
hospitalization was pointless, though the staff did not think it was a
good idea. The boys had not been allowed to see her and they were
overjoyed. They held her lovingly and vied to hold her. Everyone wanted
to hold little “vannah”. They saw nothing wrong but loved her fully.
They didn't see the physical abnormalities but loved her whole heartedly
from her first day home. As she grew they tickled her and even made her
laugh, they had long conversations with her as she listened intently,
they held her and stroked her hand, they told her all the time how much
they loved her and bragged endlessly to their friends about their sister
Savannah.
What
happened over time in my heart could only have come from God. Initially
my heart was torn and broken but slowly my heart started to warm to her
and I didn't look at her critically anymore - I remember one momentous
occasion during worship at our church. I felt like I needed to thank God
for his gift, who, though broken in my sight, she was perfect in his
sight – so I took her to the front of the church, took two flags and
waved and worshipped above her and thanked God for this wonderful gift
he had given me. I remember the tears falling down my face as my heart
was exposed before him, broken and sore. As I did this, the Holy Spirit
poured down onto me. I wept openly not caring who saw but knowing that
this was so important. I had to forgive God, had to forgive myself for
all my thoughts and feelings and had to show Savannah that I loved her
just as Christ loved me with all my blemishes, imperfections and
brokenness.
From
that point I started to see her beauty. Its amazing how God opens our
eyes to the beauty of others when we love them. Instead of seeing her
mis-shapen ears, I saw how she turned her head when she heard my voice.
Instead of noticing her squint I heard her giggles as we tickled her. I wanted
to hold her, I wanted to take her everywhere I went. I put her in
little dresses that I had kept for her, I held her to me and loved her
knowing that I had to treasure every precious moment with my little
treasure.
I would love to write the words “and they lived happily every after” but that would not be true.
She
got sick and though I fought in faith, once again my heart was broken.
This time I had to watch helplessly while she slipped away. What I
remember at the end was how God was with me and held on to me so
tightly, though I didn't understand why this had all happened. Just
before she passed away I got a phone call from a close friend who shared
that he saw how at prayer meeting that as they were praying for her, it
was as if they were there lifting her up into the Father's arms. It was
at that very moment that he shared that word with us, she left us. I
know that God wanted us to know where she was, who she was with and that
she was treasured. When my heart longs for her I am often reminded of
that word of encouragement and I see this picture time and time again of
her dancing in heaven while our Father looks on in joy. She has a pink
little dress that swirls and she turns and turns, laughing and giggling.
When she's tired she falls down on His lap and leans against His chest
while she holds onto Him with both her arms around His neck.
Is
it over? No, otherwise I wouldn't be writing this today. But my
feelings are ones of longing mixed with joy. I have realised through
this that she has been a blessing in our lives. The whole church adopted
her, she became theirs as much as ours. Even now I have friends telling
me how often they think of her and miss her and they become tearful and
it brings such a sense of wonder that God could use such a little waif
of a girl to impact hundreds of people's lives and give us such an
awesome privilege to love not just our daughter but his.
His
precious little girl, the apple of his eye, the wonder of his heart,
the expression of his love. Thank you Lord for those precious moments,
thank you for your heart of grace. Thank you for your precious gift to
us – Savannah. My precious daughter.
A friend of ours wrote this beautiful poem for us:
Precious little one
How our hearts ache now you’re gone
There’s a longing inside
And when the last tears have dried
Still we’ll miss you
Little one.
Precious baby girl
Fragile little pearl
Your days here were few
And deep down we knew
God would come for you
Little one.
Precious little rose
As time comes and goes
Your memory will stay
And we’ll meet again one day
Forever in our hearts
Little one.
kindly written by Melissa Knott
If you would like to read more about our journey, my husband wrote a small blog during this time which can be found here.
Posts
