The day before

 Two years ago, we were still in the throes of the pandemic – the girls doing school on their iPads, Judah watching Daniel Tiger in his underwear, celebrating birthdays outdoors at the Cabin and taking friends’ family pictures in the beautiful fall colors. I took my kids’ school pictures at Adair park (since school pictures at school obviously weren’t happening) and even snapped a few pictures of them holding little pink shoes. Two years ago, today I was prepping a birth announcement. 

I knew I wanted to include pictures I’d taken during a camping vacation with friends that summer - I had taken age pictures of the kids with number signs we found at an antique shop in Joseph. I wanted to use the 20-week ultrasound picture for the 4th square. It remains unfinished. 

Two years ago today, I was looking forward to seeing my baby girl on the ultrasound the next morning wondering what her percentiles would be and if she would be active or asleep during the procedure. Two years ago…it seems like another life.

There will always be the Before.

Before the sweet man doing my ultrasound was left speechless when trying desperately to find a good profile shot. Before the expert fetal medicine doctor came in to confirm his fears. Before she said words about my daughter including “sloped profile” and “small brain” and before her voice wavered when I asked her to tell it to me straight. Before my knees buckled when I realized I would have to tell my kids that their baby sister would not live long.

October 21, 2020 is the day we were all changed.


This morning, I was tired after a two-feedings night with my 2-month-old, Tucker. I couldn’t remember the last time I bathed him, so after the older kids got off to school and I finally ate breakfast, I took him upstairs and set him in his little grey whale tub, draping a warm washcloth over him as he did an obligatory pee fountain.

 Today is another day of the After. 

Sometimes when you are in the After, you think it will always be this way, always hurt this much. But further along the path, the After produces joy. After brings contentment. My smiling little boy, forged in the ashes of devastation that burned us to the foundations, is such a testimony to God’s goodness. Our foundation in Christ has remained the only thing that matters. I have suffered the thing I feared the most. I have learned that God gives and takes away. I have learned I am not in control. I have learned that my worry solves nothing. I have learned that I am blessed.

Eight times a mother.

Six that I’ve held.

Four that I get to kiss tonight.

God be praised, for great things He as done.  

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