Our Biggest Test Yet...

This is a post I never thought I would have to write, nor did I ever want to write. As much as I don't want to write it and it pains me to do so, it is a true testament of faith and love and family that needs to be shared. It is the reason I began writing. It is one of the large pavements that was placed on our Faithway.

September 2nd, 2012. 
Last year I gave birth to a beautiful, angelic, amazing and very special little girl that we named Ariella Grace. She was perfection.

Our oldest daughter holding her new baby sister

Right after she was born.

She was absolute perfection. Every little piece of her was perfect. She was healthy as can be and the doctors were just in shock at how well we were both doing after she was born. She took to feeding and pooping like a champ, she gained the nick-name of "tery" because of her little itty bitty pterodactyl scream she had before we even left the hospital. In the hospital, every time we walked by the nursery and she was in there, someone was holding her. Thinking something was wrong we would check on her and the nurse would tell us "nothing's wrong, she's just so stinkin' cute that I wanted to hold her". As a parent, my heart filled with light and love and joy for my new shiny little princess that EVERYONE seemed to just adore.  

We brought her home and showered her with love. She was the piece of a puzzle that was missing. My husband has a daughter from a previous relationship, as do I, so she was the child that brought all of us together as a family. There was a special bond with her that is indescribable. For 8 weeks my little lady and I played together, we slept together, we cooked together, made funny faces and giggled together. She spent most of her life in my arms. 

October 29th, 2012. 
Our world came to a shattering halt. I woke up and our perfect princess was gone. There were no sweet little breaths coming from her, no movement and no color in her skin. I knew instantly we had become grieving parents to a child who had died of SIDS. We were about to undergo the one thing you never think will happen to you as a parent, that you will lose your child. Ironically, that morning was the same morning I was supposed to return to work from my maternity leave. It was the same morning my husband's grandmother passed away (who we had all been patiently waiting for her home going because of the cancer that had riddled her body for years). It was the same morning I had prayed about in church the day before, to have a "smooth transition" from new mom, back to working mom. 

 That morning our house was turned upside down with police, friends, family, neighbors; question after question about drinking, drugs, violence, health problems; people coming in and out, a never ending supply of food (which we were all too shocked to eat) and a pool of tears and sadness. That morning was hell, to say the very least. I wanted to wake up from my dream I was in. I wanted to know that she was ok. I wanted to hold her, give her one last kiss goodbye. Unfortunately, I didn't wake up from a dream. However, I did know she was ok. Almost instantly after realizing "yes, she's really REALLY gone," I got an image in my head of God holding my baby in his hands. She was happy and surrounded by light. I knew without a doubt that she was in fact, "OK" and I did get to give her my last kisses goodbye, or see you later as I like to say. 

 That day plays over in my head. It's a constant reminder of how close I should hold my family, and how quickly they can be lost. I remember one of the first things that the police officers told us as they sat us down to go over everything that would happen from that point. The officer sat us down and said to me "infant and child deaths are the number one reason for divorce in parents." I looked at him, and had my first laugh of the day. I knew there was no way this would tear our marriage down. It would build us, make us stronger, pull us together more and make us lean on God for strength even more than we already did. 

 As the days went by, the funeral service came and went, people went back about their lives and seemed as though nothing ever happened. People forgot. They were scared to talk about her. Scared to bring her up. Scared that if they did they would make us remember that she was gone. Guess what? I never forgot that she was gone. I will NEVER forget that she is gone, but yet she is always with me.

Over the course of a year our family has been tested in our faith. Anyone who is close to us can certainly attest to that. Our marriage has been tested. Our patience with our children. Our friendships. Our families. Everything that surrounds us has been attacked. The one thing that hasn't changed at all, is our love and ability to call on God when we need him the most. If anything, our bond has been made stronger to Him. The comments I get from friends and people that hear our story about our "strength" as a family, and how well we are handling the loss, and how amazing we are as examples to others on how to walk this crappy journey have honestly made me blush. We're not trying to be better than anyone or make it seem like it's an easy thing to do, because it's not. It's still a battle. It has made me realize that even though we are going through one of the hardest things a parent or person can go through, we still stand strong in the eyes of others. The question is asked "How do you do it?" My answer...

FAITH.

Faith that God knows best. Faith that he will heal our souls. Faith that he will heal our family and bring us blessings. Faith that if we stand strong in his eyes and continue to praise His name, we will continue to stand strong and fight for whatever it is we have to fight for. Faith that through even the hardest of storms, there is a light, there is a rainbow at the end of the tunnel. God knows what he is doing with our lives, it is our job to have FAITH to walk with Him. 

We miss our angel. Her big blue eyes, soft baby skin, her little mark on her eye and her little pucker in her lips. We miss holding her hand, squeezing her cheeks, giggling at her cry. The memories of her memory surrounds us daily. It is by faith that I know I will see her again. I know I will one day here her call my name. It is by faith that we stand tall and fight through the hardest times of our lives. Most of all, it is by faith that we are still here as a family, grieving, but counting on the fact that God does love us and his blessings are endless.

Happy birthday to our sweet angel Ari. 

September 2nd, 2012 - October 29, 2012.