19 years ago today, my heart was shattered into a million tiny pieces. I allowed my mind to travel back in time to that unbelievable moment when we found out that our baby had already died just prior to birth. I remembered the stillness of the moment right after birth and how even along with great sorrow there was an unexplainable joy as well. Not a joyful shout of praise, but a quiet reverence and an overwhelming feeling of being loved by God.
Our little Sara never breathed even one tiny breath on this earth. She went straight into the arms of Jesus. Safe and secure, always knowing only happiness and joy forever!
We were left with broken hearts and broken dreams. But we gained an understanding of the love of God and how in our darkest moments his shoulders are big enough to carry us through.
Today, our hearts are healed by the love of Jesus, and the promise of seeing our baby again. We picture Sara dancing with the angels and awaiting our arrival to meet us and complete our family!
Our good friend, Fred del Guidice, painted this picture of her. So precious as she is being carried away into the heavens!
Notice the peace/victory symbol he added with her tiny fingers. So precious.
You can read the whole story of Sara’s birth in my book, “For the Love of Benny.”
Here is a small excerpt:
…“Something is wrong. I’m so sorry, but I can’t find a heartbeat.”
“No heartbeat?” I faltered. Feeling faint, I collapsed back on the
pillow. Despair and hopelessness washed over me like never before.
“You mean I will give birth to a dead baby?” I queried incredulously.
My befuddled brain tried to communicate to my heart the
event unfolding right before my eyes.
I looked over at Maynard, still in his denim overalls from
being on his milk truck, and saw sadness and grief wash over his
whole being as it began to sink in.
A contraction hit me full force and left me no room to think
for a minute. I came back to reality as it subsided…
…Stillborn. How I hated that choice of words. It sounded
so…well…final, so still. I lay there in agony for a few hours. My
contractions slowed to a stop as my body refused to give birth.
I was dimly aware that Maynard, my pillar of strength, had
crawled right up onto the bed behind me, wrapped his arms
around me and prayed out loud along with Deborah and Lucille,
asking God to release the grip of fear that was binding me.
I don’t remember exactly how it left. I didn’t see any great
white flashes of lightening, or divine powers from above zipping
their way through the room. All I know is a great, warm peace
enfolded me like a blanket and my will was in the Father’s hands…
…My very still Sara Emmilene was born moments later. Lucille
gently wrapped her in a blanket and whisked her off to the nursery
to examine her.
“It’s a girl… She’s beautiful
and she has black hair,” Lucille spoke kindly.
“Isn’t she sweet?” asked Lucille as she placed her in my arms.
“I put her in this soft little basket for you. She will be easier to
hold this way…”
I was awestruck. It seemed so surreal. Although it was griev-
ously sad, it was also beautiful at the same time…
