day 10: beliefs

When I was in the hospital with Ava, I vividly remember being rolled down the hallway toward the operating room where I would meet our baby. After many hours of emotional labour, I was finally about to birth our second child.

I remember an almost detached battle of semantics going on in my mind, questioning if it could be considered "birth" if the baby was already dead? Then I heard a baby cry from one of the rooms we passed and my numb shock cracked wide open again into sobbing pain.

I saw a sign referencing "Labour and Delivery" and just as suddenly as the other emotions had come, I experienced a surprising moment of calm and clarity. My labour with this child was about to be over, but
SHE HAD ALREADY BEEN DELIVERED. 


I believe Ava Faith died while I was sleeping. Although there was nothing to confirm it, I believe in my heart that she died because of some sort of an umbilical cord accident.  I believe when her heart stopped beating that our girl's unique spirit was delivered directly to God. {This is how we choose to describe her passage from death to birth.}

When she opened her eyes for the first time, I believe she saw the face of Jesus and was surrounded by beauty, peace and love in heaven.

I believe that Ava Faith is with God now. I believe that she talks with God, just as I can converse with him through prayer. I believe he can relay messages to her from me, and I believe she sends me little messages through God. I have received what I believe to be many messages from God and Ava that have helped to solidify my faith.

I believe that one day our family will be restored in heaven, and we will love each other, worship and serve our Heavenly Father together for eternity. {Some of the foundations of these beliefs can be found in the Bible in John 3:16, 1 Corinthians 15:20, 1 Corinthians 15:42-44, John 14:3, 1 Thessalonians 4:14-18, Hebrews 12:1, 1 John 5:13 and Rev. 22:4, to name a few.}

These beliefs do not make our present tragedy or hurts disappear. I mourn for the fate of Ava's beautiful earthly body; it was so preciously perfect. The tears are dripping onto my laptop as I type because I want her to be in my arms right now . . . but she is not. Nothing can change that fact, and that will be a source of grief for me as long as I live.

But, how amazing it is to know that her one-of-a-kind spirit inhabits a new heavenly form. I thank God for giving me the confident comfort of knowing that she is not lost. She is not gone forever. She is just away. Or, rather we are the ones who are away.

* * *

{Oh, how I wanted this Capture Your Grief photo project to be perfect! And, yet I have fallen behind. In my quest to be authentic in my grief and also in my busy life at home with my other children, I am taking it all one day at a time, writing when I can. Thank you for following along on my jagged little journey.}

*   intro   *   day 1   *   day 2   *   day 3   *   day 3.1   *   day 4   *   day 5   *   
*   day 6   *   day 7   *   day 8   *   day 9   *
day 15



3 comments


Kirsten said...

You are an amazing woman and mother.

Sending a bucketful of love.

Anonymous said...

What is perfection Laura? These words, emotions & all the love you have poured into these posts have touched me and so many others. They put a face on the grief and they help others understand and perhaps make us more able to be of comfort to those we know who have suffered a loss. In my eyes they have been perfect and come along at just the right times, and all the sharing of the other stories has been so moving. Live in the moment and 'know' it is good. <3 sylvia

Laura Monchuk said...

Thank you, Kirsten and Sylvia! I appreciate the words of encouragement so much!

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