Friday, February 18, 2011

no words

The phone rings. The caller ID shows my sister’s name, and I answer the phone with a smile. “Are you sitting down?” I am. And I immediately know why she is calling. And I wish I hadn’t answered the phone. I wish that she was calling to ask me a homeschool question, or tell me some funny story about Squeezy, or anything. Anything other than this. Anything other than more heartbreak.

She is well composed. Certainly in shock. I don’t know what to say.  There are no words for a moment like this. My heart feels like it is breaking in a million pieces. Why? Why again? Why this little one who was so loved already, who was so hoped for and wanted? Why now?

"No heartbeat."

The words swirl around my head.  The tears begin to flow.   I tell her that I love her and we end the call.  I had no words for her and I have no words for my waiting family, and so I go to the bed and lay face down.  My body wrenches with grief.  Ray comes in and holds me.  “It’s not fair.”  He doesn’t respond.  There are not really any words for a moment like this.  He just sits with me and lets me cry it out.  

There is bacon in the oven.  I know it needs to come out or it might burn.  Kaybelle jumps on the bed next to me and rubs her snotty nose on the blankets.  I go to the kitchen and finish making dinner.  I pick up Melody and hold her close.  I cut up Megan’s potatoes, and I fill up Kay’s milk cup.  AJ and Drew ask questions.  I think I answer them.  But really, there are no words for a moment like this.

Life in our home keeps moving at the same fast pace that it always does. And I can’t help but think about how unfair it is. How can everything keep moving along normally when everything has changed? How can I smile, when I know she is grieving?

I feel suffocated. The dishes are piling up in the sink, the kids are getting louder and louder. I need to get away. I nestle Melody in her buckles and I walk out the door into the crisp air. More tears.

I click in the carseat, and think of the niece or nephew that I will never get to hug and kiss. I consider getting on the highway and driving through the night. I am 2500 miles away from where I need to be tonight. I long to hold her hand, to tell her that I love her, to cry with her.

Instead I go see a friend. Someone that I haven’t seen in months. Someone who I know will make me smile and laugh and forget about things for a few minutes. We chat as I browse through racks of clothes.

I walk out feeling a little better, and I get in the van to head home. The speakers blare out Seeds of Courage. “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted, and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” I sing along, and the tears flow again.

I pray for a miracle.  I pray for a heartbeat.  I pray for her comfort and healing.  I pray that I will have the words to say next time we talk.  I pray.  And I hope.


  1. I love you. Life goes on. It must. And it is beautiful. I'm glad you're my sister.

  2. How beautiful -- the tears are flowing. Loving you and Erin and more . . .