Thursday, April 21, 2011
I knew something was wrong. Pam abruptly stopped in the middle of performing my regularly scheduled ultrasound and excused herself from the room. "I'll be right back she said, and disappeared through the door. Lying there on the table, gel still warm on my growing belly, I began to pray frantically. My heart beat hard against my chest, anxiety set in and my mind began to race with worry. Richard sat beside me trying to be strong for me, but we both knew something was wrong. There in the dimly lit ultrasound room I waited for what seemed like an eternity, preparing myself for the worst. The door opened, revealing a little light. There was my doctor with a look of sympathy upon his face and we knew then that our baby had died after only 14weeks.
Emptiness, pain, sorrow, darkness, and fear swirled within me raging like a storm set out on a turbulent sea. In the midst I questioned God: Why? Why did this happen? Was there something I did or didn't do? Why had he allowed such an awful thing to happen? And God always answers, even if its not what we want to hear. And God, being who He is, answered me. There in the midst of it all he met me, just He and I--Father to daughter. And it was there that I finally learned what "peace that surpasses all understanding" is. And that even in one of the darkest and bleakest times in my life, He was there---He carried me through--us through. It's knowing that Jesus wept with us and my pain was and is his pain.
There is a purpose for all things. As horrible as it was, God's will and purpose was done. Some may question what in the world good was accomplished through such a tragedy. We'll I'll tell you. No longer do I take my other children for granted. Those little things that used to drive me crazy no longer bother me. Our family is stronger, my marriage is stronger, my relationship with my mother is stronger, and my faith is stronger. No matter what comes my way, I can depend on Jesus. God never left me and He will never forsake me. If not for the love of God and Christ's sacrifice, where would I be.
It's been 2 weeks since we buried our son Ronan Pete Wagner. I'd be lying if I said that it hasn't been hard. I have my moments where I think about him not being able to take his first steps, first day of kindergarten, sibling rivalry, or saying his first words. But I know that he sleeps, and I'll see him again. We grieve, but not as others who grieve, for we know where our hope lies. It is in Christ. I found my way back to Him in it all never really knowing how far I had actually strayed from home until April 8, 2011. It was that day that I bared my soul, laid my head upon upon his lap and told Him just how much I needed Him. He simply replied: "Welcome home Daughter" and placed upon my head a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy for mourning and the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.