These beautiful girls were laid to rest. One of my only regrets was that we were too heartbroken to include anyone else in on their funeral and burial. I think it kept a lot of people distanced from us, which was not our intent, but the pain was just too raw for us to be around others.
Not long ago, I heard a song called "My story." It wasn't the first time that I heard it, but that morning, driving to work, it rang so true.
If I told you my story
You would hear hope that wouldn't let go
If I told you my story
You would hear love that never gave up
If I told you my story
You would hear life but it wasn't mine
Every time before, I heard it as it was written, that our stories were really a testament to how God works in our lives.
To tell you my story is to tell of Him
....
This is my story this is my song praising my Savior all the day long
But that day... that first verse... that was our story! Not just of the love God has for us, but how we were able to experience that hope, love, and life through our daughters. And we were so blessed that they became a part of our story!
Their lives were also the answer to a prayer I prayed a decade earlier... sound crazy enough? Hang with me here...
As I sat in the student union at a meeting of Intervarsity Christian Fellowship, a speaker from National Right to Life shared. Now as a Catholic raised in the era of Pope John Paul II, I already had a heart for the sanctity of all human life. As she spoke, my heart was moved to prayer... that if ever presented with a choice of abortion, that i would choose life. I would bless a baby with life, who otherwise might be a "choice." Now at that moment, I knew how crazy that prayer sounded. I said to myself "What did I just ask God for?" and trust me, a fatal prenatal diagnosis never crossed my mind... I just spoke what was on my heart.
Fast forward ten years... the second baby that we had waited over a year for turned out to be our second and third babies, but there was no joy in that announcement. It came with the decisive "there's a problem." After a week of appointments and evaluation by some world class physicians, it was definitive: if our daughters survived to birth, they wouldn't live for long.
But every second was worth it. I wouldn't trade one precious memory of my girls for the world. We had three months to treasure them growing in my belly, and made special plans for their birth to capture every possible memory. So my prayer now, 16 years after my crazy college prayer, was that every parent would have the strength, support, and opportunity to carry their baby to term. Because...
If I told you my story
You would hear victory over the enemy
If told you my story
You would hear freedom that was won for me
If I told you my story
You would hear life overcome the grave
...
To tell you my story is to tell of Him
Thank you for testifying to God's goodness and faithfulness even in the midst of very painful circumstances…love you so much, Liz, and I am eagerly waiting for the day I get to hug and kiss those girls!
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