Stephanie and Somebody

As yesterday came to a close and we made our way to bed, we turned our thoughts to the morning and wondered what Day 2 would feel like. In one way, we wanted the morning to come quickly, and Steph even stayed up till 9 or 10pm to make sure that she would sleep through the night. I urged her very strongly that she should wake me up if she woke up in the night, so that she wouldn't be in and out of bed for a second night facing grief alone.

So we all--Steph's mom included--went to bed anxious about the night, and both Gloria and I awoke at every sound.

But we were anxious about what the morning would hold, too. What would it be like to wake up no longer pregnant? What would it be like to open your eyes and have to remember everything that happened the day before?

But we slept through a peaceful night, and the sun rose, and coffee was made, and life continued. But life was changed. It seemed a little emptier and a little quieter somehow.

Day 2 had much less commotion, and much less noise. Even the phones that rang and buzzed all day yesterday were silent today. Today was the day for beautiful flowers, and we received many. In the silence we remembered the day before, we retold the stories to a few more family and friends and doctors, and we realized just how difficult it all had been. In some ways it was more grueling and shocking and fearful than we had allowed ourselves to feel at the time. I remember this afternoon thinking how glad I am that yesterday is done and how I never would want to go through it again, but how in a strange, detached way I don't even quite feel like it was me who went through it this time.

And we thought, too, about the outpouring of love, sympathy, and understanding that we received from family and friends. We are grateful for the wonderful people in our lives, and for the grace and love that we have been given through you.

Steph's mom, Gloria, flew out to be with us yesterday, and knowing that her mom was on her way was a comfort while we were in the hospital and wondering if we had anything left to look forward to. Our friend Shanelle acted as family spokesperson, chauffeur, professional shopper, and anything else that was needed throughout the day to keep us from having to be detail-oriented. Aaron, Aron, and Matt suspended their plans for the day to make time to get coffee and cry with me in a public place. Innumerable friends and family called or emailed words of encouragement and hope in the midst of shared sorrow. Our employers and Steph's professor were all accommodating and sympathetic in every heartfelt message. I feel certain that we could have asked any of these people--any of you--for anything in the world, and we would have received it. I cannot adequately express our appreciation.

I especially want to mention Larry, Stephanie's dad. Steph wanted to call her mom as soon as possible, but she didn't want her mom to be alone when she heard the news. We decided to call very early on in the hope that Larry would still be there. But when Steph called, he had just left for work.

Although it might seem odd, I am now thankful that he was not there because the situation allowed him the opportunity to show such love for Steph and her mom. As soon as he got to work and heard Gloria's messages, he raced home, knowing that he may have put his job at risk. When he got home he told Gloria to pack because she was leaving on the first plane to California. He drove her to St. Louis and made sure everything was taken care of for her to get on the plane on time.

That was the gift.

Then he drove home alone. He went back to an empty house. He had a quiet dinner. And he waited for a phone call with news.

That was the cost.

He gave Stephanie what he himself needed and wanted most. In a poignant picture of grace-filled, fatherly love, he decided to be alone so that she and her mom could be together. He did not give from his abundance, but only what he took from his own heart, and his lack is our blessing.

Such sacrifices of love have carried us in our weakness, and we are so humbled to be so loved.