Charlie's story

6.16.14

      There are stories, legends, myths, and proverbs that float around the world that I now call my own. Every time I meet a new Hope Mom, I listen to the story of their loss and most of the time sit in awe of the grace that God allowed me to see in our own story. Then there are stories that are so hard to listen to that you wonder how on earth the person that lived it is going to continue to put one foot in front of the other.
       This is Charlie's story.
     
        Elyse had lead a local Hope Group here in Dallas where Hope Moms from the area went through an 8 week Bible study written by the leaders of Hope Mommies. She had about 10 people in her group, and they all shared their stories and mourned their losses together, but also sought the Hope that is in Christ through the Bible study.
         One day, I had been talking to Elyse about how the group was going (I hadn't had the time to participate), and she told me about this one mom who had lost her baby boy in December. She had gone into the doctor's office late third trimester (I think she was 38 weeks, but I could be wrong on that), and in the doctor's office they noticed that something wasn't quite right. They told the mom to go home and pack her bag and come back to the hospital so that they could induce her.
          She was gone two hours. When she made it back to the hospital (which in this case was the hospital we had delivered at), her baby boy was already gone. It was too late.
          Two. Hours. The timing of that replays over and over in my head. Two hours was all it took for them to pass the threshold that you can't return from. Two. Hours. The length of an average movie. Not a significant amount of time. Nothing that would say, "Oh that feels like an eternity." No, just two hours.
          When Elyse told me the story, I cried for that mom. I thought about the pain and guilt she must have had to face and work through. The "what if" factor had to be suffocating her. I can't imagine her pain, and I can't imagine what mind games she was having to fight through to keep breathing.

             Monday night, Elyse had arranged for us to "host" a dinner for all the local area Hope Moms. I say "host" because we basically picked out the restaurant and told everyone to meet us there. I was a little nervous because most of the girls would be coming from the hope group and I wouldn't know any of them.
              The girl that sat across from me was named Jody. We talked about inconsequential things, but she had curly red hair and a spunk that I doubt I will ever forget. She told us that she and her husband had gone out to a bee keeper in North Dallas and harvested honey. And, interesting fact, true raw honey will never expire or go bad. She talked about how they had decided to do this fun outdoorsy thing because it had been 6 months since they lost their little boy and they wanted a fun experience to remember him by. I asked when she had lost and how far along she was, the common questions that you ask a mom of loss, it seems like. And then it suddenly dawned on me.
               This was Charlie's mom. This was the girl who had lost her child so suddenly and not suddenly that the overlaying of those two feelings was chilling. Sitting across from me, with a summer tan and a smile on her face, was a mom that has been through, in my opinion, one of the hardest stories I have ever heard.
               "I have to tell you something," I said probably rather shortly as our conversation about the bee keeper came to a close. "Elyse shared with me your story. And first off, I am so sorry for your loss." Her eyes started to water a little bit. "But I need to tell you how much your story helped me. You see, we lost Kaitlyn full term and completely out of the blue. We had no warnings. And now that I am pregnant again, I have been fighting the fear that something like that will happen again to this baby. But when I get anxious or panicky, I am reminded of your story. You did everything right, and all it took was two hours for Charlie to be gone. That was what God had written for him, and for you. Nothing that you could have done could have changed that outcome. So when I start to get nervous about the life of this baby, I remember that God is truly, truly in control and there is nothing I can do but to trust Him.
              So I have to say thank you for sharing Charlie with us. His life has a legacy and part of that is reminding the rest of us that no matter what our stories are, God is in control. There's no ifs-ands-or-butts about it."
               With that, a single tear rolled down Jody's cheek as she nodded her head.

               I don't know what Jody's journey will look like. But I do know that when people tell me how much Kaitlyn's life has affected their own, I have an overwhelming sense of pride. When I was pregnant with her, I could never figure out what she would want to be when she would grow up, but I always knew that she would change the world. I knew that my girl was strong, and that people would look to her as a leader. I'm sure every mom has these feelings about their kids, but imagining Kaitlyn as a doctor or a lawyer just never set right with me. Then I would think about her in a humanitarian role like an environmentalist or something and that never set right, either. So instead, I just knew that she was going to make an impact.