The Faith Collective

We had never been happier than the day we found out we were pregnant. An immediate love, connection, and joy filled my body knowing our little growing angel would call it home.

In just one day, it felt like I lost everything. 

Have you ever found yourself curled up in a ball thinking about how you honestly don’t know if you will make it much longer? Or have you, at times, felt so angry with God that all you wanted was to yell at Him and never talk to Him again unless, of course, you needed to yell at Him some more? If you’ve answered yes to either question, this story is for you.

To keep it short, I’ve had major health problems since I was 9: systemic scleroderma, rheumatoid arthritis, and Raynaud’s syndrome, which also led to major emotional and spiritual problems.

I pulled up the sleeve to her hospital gown and saw she had a tattoo on her arm I had never seen. “Time waits for no one,” it read. I was standing in a hospital, with a woman I’d been disconnected from for years, who I hadn’t allowed to meet my child, and she was dying. My mother was dying. Quickly. She was losing her almost forty year battle with addiction. I had mentally prepared for this day most of my life, yet here it was and I needed time to pause. I needed time to wait. I had so much more left to say.

I remember being so scared, putting on a brave face for my family. God, please see me through this so that I can see my kids grow up.

I wasn’t supposed to give birth this early, but I felt something was not right. God, please bring my baby into this world healthy and safe. 

I have sickle cell anemia and pulmonary hypertension which is very risky and rare. Most women don’t survive childbirth, my doctor told me. I was scheduled for an emergency C-section that day, but I refused. I felt in my heart that if they cut me open, I would not make it to see my son’s beautiful face.

Navy’s affinity for hearts grew when her aunt gave her a heart blanket the year prior. It had turned into warrior-Navy’s shield, held tightly over her right chest where her implanted port resided. This small spot on her body held so much pain, anxiety, and PTSD from poke after poke. Heart blankie bravely protected her and comforted her. 

I decided to turn my pain into purpose. I started to share my faith on social media. I had numerous messages tell me that my faith and perseverance helped strengthen their own faith. My relationship and love for my Savior grew in ways that I don’t think would have if I hadn’t been suffering the way that I was. This pain wasn’t something my closest loved ones could even begin to understand, but Jesus could. He knew.

Nora is our miracle baby. She was a sassy little thing in the NICU and I feel like that’s what kept her going. She didn’t have any major problems. She was just little and needed time to grow. I realize now how this experience could have been devastating, but this experience was a beautiful one for me. I know God has a plan for His children. For whatever reason Nora needed to come sooner. For whatever reason Nora was saved and she is still a little sassy thing. She is strong. She is resilient. She is beautiful. She is a daughter of God and she’s my miracle baby.

After I hung up with my mom, I found a secluded classroom in the church building and knelt down to pray. Prayer felt like a last ditch effort to save my dad. As I was praying, it was becoming more and more clear that my dad had died. I continued to plead with God to raise my dad from the dead and keep him alive. 

I was too fatigued to make it all the way down the stairs, so I just sat there while processing, and words and a melody started floating to my brain. They demanded attention.

So I started writing it all down in the Note app on my phone. When such a perfect creation is essentially sent from heaven and downloaded into your brain, you have to ask God, “Why did you send this?” His answer: “I want you to sing it at his funeral.” That’s what I was afraid of. Why did it seem like God was always asking hard things of me?

I prayed and pleaded with God to help me not look the way I did or for Him to help me lose the “extra weight”, so I could feel pretty enough. For years I thought weight gain was my trail in life and that the only way I could feel joy again was if I lost weight. I was so wrong! 

After years of struggling with this eating disorder and feeling completely hopeless, God helped me see that I could not overcome this alone.