Choosing Joy

Work called me yesterday and asked if I wanted to cover for the oncology and maternity social worker. I almost told them no. Babies? That’s the last thing I want to see right now, but I needed to get out of the house. Besides, I never have maternity cases. Oncology always keeps me busy. To be honest, the past few days have been hard. I’ve kinda crawled into a hole and sat. I haven’t felt like choosing joy. I’ve chosen to focus on my pain, on what went wrong, and on what I didn’t have. I spoke with my mother who reminded me to live. I know it sounds silly to have to be reminded to cherish what I have. To tell me it’s okay to grieve Henry but to live for God’s glory. To tell me I need to be present for Benjamin and my husband. And to remind me not to allow Satan to have an inch. I woke up yesterday with a pep in my step. I was determined to choose joy and live. When I got to work, I noticed a mother I needed to see. She was in her 3rd trimester and had been in the hospital a few days so I wanted to check on her. When I called the nurse she told me that this mother tested positive for drugs, has multiple kids she doesn’t see, had no prenatal care, doesn’t know who the father of the child is and doesn’t want the baby. My first reaction was to go upstairs and punch her in the face. This woman had no prenatal care! She smoked crack while pregnant! And she has a healthy baby kicking in her womb! But I prayed for Henry before he was even conceived. I ate organic.  I gave up Diet Coke. I did everything right and Henry died! On the way to the maternity floor, I prayed for softness. I prayed to glorify God. I prayed I would honor Henry. By the time I reached this lady’s room, my icy heart began to melt. As this woman told me that she didn’t want to keep this baby, the Holy Spirit gave me the strength to tell her how proud I was of her. Proud that she didn’t choose abortion. Proud that she’s going to sign custody over to someone else.  I’m not saying this to brag. Like I said, I wanted to punch her a few times. I’m saying that the Holy Spirit showed up. Because I wanted to chose joy, He made me able to do so. I left the room and spoke with the nurses. I shared my story and was able to connect with a few of them. As a mother who’s lost a son, one of the most therapeutic things for me is to tell Henry’s story. I love to talk about my second born. I love when people recognize him as the person he was. When people don’t say anything about him, it breaks my heart. Today, I was given the opportunity to share what the Lord is doing BECAUSE of Henry. And I pray that this is only the beginning. Today was a small victory. The road has been hard and windy. I go from happy to distraught in .5 seconds. One moment I’m raising my hands praising the Lord, the next I’m heaving and wondering why God took my son. And I think both reactions are okay. One thing I’ve learned is that no matter how I feel, I have to go to God with it. Even if my thoughts are ugly and my questions are trivial. I see pregnant women all the time and wonder why me and not them. I in no way wish this on them, but I wonder why God chose me? My son? I want to hold Henry more than anything in this world. I would give up just about anything to have him tucked safely in my womb, but he’s not there. God chose Henry as a way to glorify Him….If I let Him. I know one day this will all make sense. That it’s just a piece of the story. And I take great comfort that in 10,000 years I’ll be praising The King with Henry by my side.  And I’ll know....I'll know that while this was brutally hard and a road I did not choose, it will have been “light and momentary in comparison to the glory that far outweighs it all.”