We have spent the day playing in the snow! I asked Ginny if she would relay a few of her thoughts. Always reluctanct. Always incredible.
Someone recently asked us for more information about the design of the 'eliot' necklace. There are nine beads on each side of a center piece representing Eliot's 99 days with us. Also, all the beads are alike except for one that stands out from the rest. They are packaged with a note of encouragement. We are just shy of selling 250. Which means we have over $2,000, solely from the necklace, to put to great use. The purpose is a work in progress.
When Eliot was born I heard a very weak and very faint cry. I said, "he's crying! that means he's breathing right!?". Not the words usually spoken in a delivery room.
I went to the hospital where Eliot was born the other day. I sat outside of the room where he was delivered, the room where he took his first breath, room number 15. I went, not to be sad, but to remember. I thought that if I could just remember what it was like on that day, then my sadness would begin to turn into something else...gratefulness, joy, hope. I wanted to remember hanging so desperately onto Christ for strength that I could barely breathe. I wanted to remember the unknowns...Boy or girl?...Life or death? I wanted to remember the joy of that cry- because that cry meant that he was alive, that cry meant time- and I hoped, with all that I had, for time with this child I carried. I wanted to remember what it was like to stay up all night holding him that first night because we had no idea how long we would have with him. I wanted to remember, and I did. I relived day number one and I smiled.
We now know. 99 days. 99 beautiful days of relentlessly loving a sweet, sweet little boy named Eliot. 99 days that were a miracle. 99 days that I wish I could remember better. He has been gone for 3 months now, and my sadness & my missing him so badly makes everything, the wonder of his life, so hazy. It makes the joy of that day & of the 98 days that followed hazy; God broke through the haze for one short hour and helped me to see...He gave me a glimpse of His glory. I wait for more glimpses that will eventually turn into long stares at the glory of God through a little boy’s life. I know glory lives there. On day 99 I saw Eliot breathe his last breath. I was there, and despite the despair, I remembered on my visit back to the hospital that I also saw him breathe his first.
"the Lord gives & the Lord takes away. blessed be the name of the Lord"