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Our Story of Hope- Whitaker Family (Samuel)

It has taken me a long time to write this… almost 2 years actually, from the day that our son Samuel Gene Whitaker was born and then went to be with his Father in heaven less than an hour later.

I imagine everyone has days in life that you can remember vividly.  I can recall with pretty amazing accuracy, especially for someone who doesn’t have a great memory, 7/10, 1/19, 10/19, and 6/26 – the birthdays of our children – George, Olivia, Samuel, and Annie.  I can tell you what time we went to the hospital, the major details of the births, how much the kids weighed, who came to see us, how bad the food was.  I remember almost every last detail of Samuel’s birth.  Jessica was 32 weeks pregnant, and woke me up at 2am to tell me she had been having contractions for hours. She had been praying that they would stop. She was not ready for him to come yet.  Rushing to the hospital to deliver our son, and knowing that unless God saw fit to change things, Samuel was mostly likely going to be stillborn.  Praying so fervently while they hurriedly prepared her for a C-section – for Jessica, for Samuel, for our family, for God’s will to be done in all of this.  I remember looking into Jessica’s eyes as they pulled Samuel out, and we heard his soft little cry; they gave him to us, and we were able to see him open his eyes.  We held him and told him how much we loved him for just a short while before he passed away and went to our Father’s house in heaven.  I know that he is there, but it still hurts every day. 

Well before we planned to get pregnant; either shortly after we got married, or maybe even before were married, Jessica and I talked about having kids.  We talked about names, character traits and behaviors, we joked about what we might want to pass on or not pass on to our children.  Just normal stuff, that I imagine most couples do.  We also discussed and agreed, without any debate or hesitation, that if there was ever anything deemed out of the ordinary with any of our kids while Jessica was pregnant, it would change nothing about how we felt about the pregnancy or the baby.  We always had the mindset that God had given us that baby for a reason, and we were going to care for it as best we could, for as long as He allowed us.  

We had George in Tyler, TX in 2012, and moved briefly, to the Fort Worth area for a job soon after. We moved again, to Spring, TX in the summer of 2013, after I accepted a job at Oak Ridge High School as an Athletic Trainer.  It was a great opportunity for me to work in a great school, with great people.  It was also a homecoming for me as well, as my family still lives in the area.  I was considering a career change, but that was put on hold when we found out we were pregnant with Olivia;  she arrived in early 2015.  We decided not too long after that we needed to buckle down and find a church home, the second church we attended in the area was Oak Ridge Baptist Church.  Immediately we felt welcomed, and at home.  Every lesson and message we heard spoke directly to us.  We found out at this point that we were pregnant again. Not coincidentally, we also felt led to join ORBC.  As a part of the membership process, our pastor meets with everyone that wants to join the church.  I remember before the meeting we were about six weeks pregnant, I really wanted to bring it up during the meeting, but did not.  

At the end of the 2016 school year, pregnant and all, we decided that I would leave my career of 15 years, and open a CrossFit gym that I would run full time.  Up until this point Jessica’s pregnancy had been normal. At her 16 week ultrasound the doctor was not in the office that morning; we did not think anything was out of the ordinary.  Jessica went about her day at work, and I went to the school, to resign my position.  In the middle of my telling the Athletic Director I would not be returning, my phone rang.  I silenced it, and continued.  After the meeting and fresh out of a job, I checked the voicemail to hear Jessica’s doctor telling us that we needed to call him on his cell phone as soon as possible.  We found out that our baby’s bladder and kidneys looked distended (full of fluid), and that he was going to refer us to a  Maternal Fetal Specialist for some better imaging and a course of action.  We were worried, to say the least, we had no idea what to expect, but from the tone of Jessica’s doctor, it was not a good situation.

The following week, we met with the specialist.  She did the ultrasound to confirm what our doctor had seen. The doctor gave us the news that we needed to see a Fetal Specialist in downtown Houston. He was one of the best doctors in the field, and might be able to place a shunt in our baby’s bladder to drain the fluid, and help his kidneys.  She cried with us while she explained what was going on.  She prayed with us before we left her office.

A few days later we went to our appointment at our Fetal Specialist office. The ultrasound seemed to take a week.  First the tech performed the scan. Then the doctor and his medical student performed the scan again. When finished the doctor asked that we meet in the office across the hall.  We knew things were serious. He sat us down told us that there was nothing we could do for our baby boy. His urethra was completely blocked causing fluid not to drain and form amniotic fluid around him, but instead to back up into his kidneys. More than having a kidney problem, the lack of fluid around our baby would make it impossible for his lungs to develop correctly.  He told us there was a high likelihood that our baby would die in utero or be stillborn, but if he wasn’t he would not live long after birth. He gave us the option of terminating the pregnancy, which from the beginning, not an option for us. As hard as it was to hear that news, we already loved our baby boy and chose to carry him until God was ready for him.  We named him Samuel on the drive home. 

How do you tell people that you are pregnant, but that when your baby is born he will die?  Grief is not something people like to discuss, or confront.  We all avoid it.  Those were some hard conversations, we got a lot of prayers, support, and love from so many people. Sadly, Jessica also received a lot of negative feedback as well.  Our family cried with us and supported us, our church prayed over us continually, friends threw Jessica a ‘Prayer Shower’, and the members of our growing gym supported us daily.  We chose to love Samuel in the time that we had with him.  We created a ‘Bucket List’ of activities and outings George and Olivia would have wanted to do with Samuel, we did those things with him while Jessica was pregnant.  We hope that some of those memories last for them.  We will always remind them of those memories.

Our story with Samuel is so remarkable.  It’s a story of how God’s timing and plan is so perfect, that he put us in a place and at a certain time for his purpose. Even if we were totally unaware of it.  In hindsight, I see His hand in everything in our life, but especially when it comes to Samuel. I recognize Him in the those everyday moments, things, and people that were placed in our lives.  I am so thankful.

Samuel’s short life has impacted so many people already, probably more than we know about. It has restored their faith, and given them hope.  We pray that our lives, and going through what we’ve gone through, will help someone else.

We have been so blessed.  We are so thankful, even in the midst of sorrow and grief.  

We are blessed by our son George, blessed by our daughter Olivia, blessed by our son Samuel, and blessed by the newest addition to our home – Annie.  We are blessed that the Lord has put us in this place, at this time, for his purpose with our lives.  Blessed that we have so many family, friends, a church, and others that care so much for us.

So be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid and do not panic before them. For the Lord your God will personally go ahead of you. He will neither fail you nor abandon you. -Deuteronomy 31:6

 

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Our Story of Hope- Huie Family (Dash)

‘‘Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus

Just to take Him at His word

Just to rest upon His promise

Just to know, thus saith the Lord.”

“Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him!

How I’ve proved Him o’er and o’er

Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus!

Oh, for grace to trust Him more!”

These are words we sung at the homegoing celebration of our first child, our precious three year old son, William Dashiell Huie.
“Dash” was so special for so many reasons. One of them being, doctors had told my husband and myself we might not be able to conceive. After about 3.5 years of trying to get pregnant, we were starting to get frustrated. But…God! I remember being so incredibly nervous when I went to the hospital to have an induction, but God directed me to Psalm 139 and my fears were stilled. Everything went perfectly, he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I had the privilege of being able to stay home with him and we lived each day to the fullest! God knows our future and makes preparation for what we are about to encounter, and I’m so incredibly thankful. A few weeks before Dash passed away, he kept coming up to me randomly, saying, “it’s ok, momma. Don’t be scared.” At the time I didn’t understand, but I do now.
Dash was so full of life and energy and absolutely loved to dance. The weekend before he passed away, Ballet Memphis was doing “The Wizard of Oz” ballet at the Orpheum. I knew Dash would absolutely love it, but at the time money was a little tight as my husband was in the middle of a huge career transition. I had decided we better be frugal and wise and so I had decided not to go. The Holy Spirit spoke to my heart so strongly and impressed on me that “life is too short, and to buy the tickets.” So that’s exactly what I did.  I told my husband that we could just go ahead and make a special day out of it and celebrate Dash’s birthday early (which wasn’t until June 19th, and this was April 8th). My husband cleared his schedule and we had the best day together. It was a perfect spring day, we enjoyed lunch, and took so many pictures. He had an absolute blast. He loved the ballet, but towards the end he kept getting out of his seat to dance in the aisle. When I asked him to sit back down, he said “Mom, I need to dance!” And I’m so glad I let him. That was just who he was, so full of joy, life and laughter. We even let him open some of his birthday gifts early that I had hidden away in the closet. Sunday we went to church and spent the afternoon hunting Easter eggs. He went to bed that night like any other, we said his prayers and tucked him in.
 Monday morning I  noticed he was sleeping in later than usual so I went in to check on him and found him not breathing. He had been with Jesus for a little while already. God is helping me daily with that trauma. His everlasting arms carried me through that horrific moment and are carrying me daily. No one could ever give us a definitive answer as to what exactly happened, even after the autopsy and toxicology testing. I struggled  with this for a long time, because Dash was so unusually healthy. I tried to do everything right, and I felt like I had failed. The enemy tried to tell me the lie that I was a bad mom, that I could have kept this from happening. It just didn’t make any sense.
Then, the Lord brought back to remembrance Psalm 139 that He gave me as I was on my way to the hospital. “All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.” Psalm 139:16b. Dash’s mission on earth was accomplished and God just simply took him home, and out of his loving-kindness allowed us to have an early birthday celebration with our boy.  Looking back over Dash’s life, I see God’s prophetic whispers throughout this journey. Even leading us to name our son “Dash” was prophetic, because his life would be so short, but no less meaningful. He dashed in and out of our lives so quickly, but is still changing lives for eternity. When someone passes away, there are a couple of dates on the headstone—the birth date and the promotion date. But it’s not the dates that are as important as the dash in between. The dash represents their life, how they lived it, and the people they impacted. I believe Dash accomplished more in his short three years of life than some people do in a life time. I’m so thankful God chose me to be the mother of a boy so special, he got promoted early for a specific purpose.
Our Father is perfect in all His ways, and He doesn’t waste any of our pain. He wants to use it if we will bring it to Him. All the brokenness, all the shattered pieces of our heart, He wants to take it all and make something truly beautiful from it, like only He can. Just like my son said to me, I want to say to you, “it’s ok, momma/daddy, don’t be scared.” Trust God, and watch what He will do. “He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!”  Revelation 21:5
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Our Story of Hope- Moyd Family

I remember the look on the doctor’s face when she told us the news about our first baby. I think it will forever be engraved in my mind. Five doctors. Five different doctors with the same look on their face.

At eight weeks into our first pregnancy, we were planning our announcement photos. Little did we know our announcement photo would soon greatly differ from the cute ones I had pinned on Pinterest.

The diagnosis was not good for me or our precious little baby. I had a rare condition that they call a molar pregnancy. Even more rare was the fact that I had a twin pregnancy where one was a perfectly normal baby, while the other twin never developed and was a fast-growing tumor. We were told by every doctor there was no chance the baby would make it through this. What complicated things even more was that I have a blood clotting disorder where I clot easily. Molar pregnancies greatly decrease your platelet count, increasing the chances of bleeding too much. Because of this, one doctor, who sees hundreds of patients each week and has only recommended terminating a pregnancy one other time, said this was an impossible situation to manage. And, if I chose to continue, there was a 20% chance of this turning into cancer. There was no way I was going to make it through this. Another hospital that does not perform abortions, said they would make an exception for my situation.

I can still see my husband, Dillon, as he sat solomley stunned, eyes locked into nowhere, his mind racing with every word being spoken. These were big emotions we’ve never had to process before. Even though they were saying everything to me, we were experiencing this together. We shared the same thoughts, the same fears, the same emotions. This wasn’t just my body. This was our baby.

Everything medically made sense to follow through with termination. Even the hospital was making an exception on their policies for me. I thought, “if there’s no chance of us both making it, why would I choose to let us both die when I could be a mom to another baby one day?” The doctor stepped out and told us to take as long as we needed to make our decision. Every doctor we spoke with just wanted the best for me. They treated us like family and mourned with us as they had to deliver this terrible news and recommended what they thought was best. I can’t imagine what they must have been feeling as well. But, I couldn’t run from what came next.

I don’t even know how long we just sat there. Praying this wasn’t really happening. Waiting to wake up from this nightmare. We were just putting off the inevitable. We had to make this impossible decision. Dillon broke the silence. “I’ll be with you with whatever you decide.” My survival instincts screamed reasonings in my head. My heart ached. Then, deep in my soul I felt a whisper: “Would I rather meet God slightly further out in the course of eternity knowing what I had done, or would I rather meet him maybe a little sooner, knowing I could stand tall and chose what pleased Him?” Less than two hours before we found out the devastating news, we had seen the ultrasound of the baby moving around. We had heard the heartbeat of our child. Even when we weren’t sure how it would affect my life, we chose to give our child a chance at life. This is in no way valuing my life any less. Would life be worth living if I didn’t live for anything? If I don’t stick to and stand up for my values?

We told the doctors our decision to continue our pregnancy. I could see the concern on their face, but they displayed the utmost respect for our decision and sent us to a new team of doctors they believed could better handle our situations and the risks with which they came. With this new team, we were informed that the risks of cancer would have been the same percentage even if we would have terminated the day we found out. If I would have given into my fears that day, I would have been crushed to find out we chose to stop that beating heart we heard just hours before, and then later find out the risks are still the same to me.

To anyone who has made the decision to end a pregnancy, I want to tell you this does not define you. Just like my decision to continue my pregnancy does not define me. Only Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior, defines me. And He can define you too. There is hope and forgiveness in Jesus. If you are holding on to a decision you’ve made in the past, give it to Him. And don’t try to take it back. Getting caught up in guilt delays the redemption and healing. All He wants is for us to follow Him. All He has for us is love. All we have to do is accept it and follow. Let go of any guilt and let Jesus define you.

After telling our family the news, we tried to think about the best way to tell all of our loved ones so they could join us in prayer. We could not carry this burden alone. We found relief in laying it at the feet of our Heavenly Father. He also gave us a community to help us through this storm. We decided the most effective way to reach everyone would be to post an update on Facebook. I must admit, the initial response was so uplifting and encouraging that I found myself starting to shift my reliance to the words on the screen than the God in my heart. We had gone to a movie to escape from the turmoil within for a couple of hours, when I was quickly reminded of why I can only place my contentment in Christ alone. We walked out of the theater to an insurmountable mountain of Facebook notifications. In the matter of two and a half hours, our post had gone viral. People we’ve never even met were commenting words that still loom over me some days. My mind soon was flooded with evil words. I was drowning in discouragement. The words wouldn’t leave my head. They just kept repeating over and over and over. Self-righteous words proclaiming judgement over my husband for not valuing my life. Claims of me just wanting to be a martyr. Accusations of us missing our “boat” of rescue through the five doctors. Yes, the accusations ripped at me, but that wasn’t what the deep ache in my heart was about. They didn’t see it. They didn’t see the reason behind it. The God that had so much glory to show us through it all. Our prayer from the start was that people wouldn’t see our faith as the main thing in this story, but rather what God does through this. Still, the hurt was real. When we got home, I told Dillon I just needed to worship. I couldn’t replace the evil words on my own. So, we sang the songs God has given to others who have gone through hurt. We sang the hope He’s given to people just like us time and time again.

As Dillon strummed and we sang through the tears, it wasn’t too long before the words of praise replaced the gut-wrenching words inside. You know why? Because praise always triumphs over pain. The God we sang to is far mightier than the demons we fought.

The months that followed were tough. I couldn’t stomach any foods or liquids. Dillon would sit with me to make sure I took a sip of Pedialyte every few hours to fight off the dehydration. I couldn’t stand for more than seconds and some days I couldn’t lift my head. We continued to go to weekly doctors appointments. Every visit, we were getting good reports for our baby and worsening reports for me. Still, our baby continued to defy everyone’s expectations. Things were actually looking so well for our baby that they scheduled the next appointment 3 weeks out for our 16 weeks ultrasound. We were looking forward to finding out if we were having a girl or a boy when, two days before our appointment, I knew something was wrong. We went to the ER in the dark of night and learned there was no longer a heartbeat to be found. The tumor had grown too fast for our sweet little fighter. The tests they ran on me revealed my liver, kidneys, and heart were shutting down, my platelets were extremely low, and my blood pressure was frighteningly high. They told my family if we had waited even one or two days, I would have been in critical condition. We had to schedule surgery to get the tumor the size of a football out right away and try to regulate my body. Although this seemed like a defeat, we felt almost an instantaneous peace and even joy in the ER room. We were reminded of a prayer we prayed earlier on in this journey. In seeking His will, we prayed for the miracle of our baby being born, or for the mercy of taking our baby home naturally. We begged God to take us out of making that impossible decision. Instead, He gave us hope in the impossible.

After a week in the hospital, we were back home and regaining strength and it seemed like the storm had passed. Unbeknownst to us that we were just in the eye of the storm. The next storm wall was fast approaching. I soon was informed I was in the 20%. The cancer had moved to my lungs.

Five months of chemo later, I was testing negative and I’m now being monitored for a while.

On a particularly emotionally hard day, I remember opening a book I had lain down a few months prior and never quite got back to. There, awaiting me in it’s pages was a lesson written just for me in that moment. It expounded upon the shortest verse in the Bible: Jesus wept. The shortest verse, yet holding so much power. Power to show me a glimpse into the expanse of His love and compassion for me. The scene around this verse is of Mary crying out to Jesus, falling at His feet asking “Why?” Why hadn’t He come to heal her brother Lazarus. She knew He could have. She knew He hadn’t. I was haunted with the eerie resemblance to some one-sided conversations I had had with God at times over the past few months. Yet, Jesus’s response wasn’t rebuke or condemnation. It was compassion. She wept. He wept. He longed for her to see His greater purpose. He was longing for me to stop questioning, and start trusting in His greater purpose. To trust in the greater glory He could get through this plan.

We’ve seen God so much through all of this. Through the love displayed from friends and family, to spiritual growth of self and others, and financial miracles. There’s so many stories

I could tell of when God graced us with unexpected deposits in my account to pay for a little getaway, to rebate checks to pay for groceries we had forgotten to budget for, to two months of meals supplied by our church family after surgery, to countless more. But I want to part with this. I told Dillon a couple weeks after we lost our baby that it broke my heart thinking our baby was up there waiting on a name. It just seemed fitting to name our little one Hope. If we learned anything, it was the importance hope plays into our life. Hope is what keeps us going. If we are hoping in the wrong thing, we are headed toward a path of discontentment and distruction. But, having hope in the one thing that is always constant, always loving, and always IS, leads us to a path of true satisfaction. Hope can seem impossible sometimes, but we are always hoping in something if we really think about it. Placing hope in an omnipresent, omnipotent, omniscient God can seem impossible. But, hope in the impossible is what we need. It’s what our soul longs for. And it’s what each one of us can have. All we have to do is place our hope in Jesus Christ. Trusting that He took on all of our sins and took our place on the cross. Trusting that He rose again and defeated the death that separates us from God. Trusting and hoping in Him for the rest of our lives here, and trusting and hoping for the life we know we can now have with Him for eternity.

We had to lean into this hope during our impossible decision. We cling to this hope every day. Hope in the impossible is what keeps us going. You can choose hope in any impossible place you find yourself in. You can choose to hope in the impossible today.

“And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.” (1 Peter 5:10)

“but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.

They will soar on wings like eagles;

they will run and not grow weary,

they will walk and not be faint.” (Isaiah 40:31)

“24 For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? 25 But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.” (Romans 8:24-25)

“And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.” (Romans 5:5)

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” (Romans 15:13)

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28)

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Our Story of Hope- Graham Family (Emma)

On September  23, 2017 our lives changes forever. This is the day I had to say goodbye to Emma here on earth. 

Our story began on January 21, 2017 when we got the positive two pink lines. My heat was filled with joy thanking God for our little blessing. After our first trimester I was getting so excited to think in six months I would get to meet our daughter in person. Every night before bed I would tell her how much I love her. A few more months passed then I was in the third trimester. I for sure thought “this is it, we’re going to be able to have our little girl”. Emma’s room was all set up and ready to go. I would sit in her room and think “gosh, she definitely going to be a girly girl with all of this pink.” Life was wonderful just thinking about adding a baby to our life. So many nights I thought “Wow! God made this beautiful creation through us.”  I would stay up at night wondering what she would look like? I knew if she was anything like her daddy she would have a heart of gold. With a few weeks left I was getting even more excited to meet her. Little did I know, Sept 21, 2017 would be the last time I would hear her heat beating. I was scheduled to be induced on Sept 25th. The next day I spent at home waiting for my husband to get home to go have dinner. I felt a few mild cramps but I didn’t think anything of it with me being so close to my delivery date. Later that night after dinner I was almost ready for bed thinking how I really haven’t felt Emma move much that day. My husband decided to grab the fetal doppler to listen to her heart. We tried for about five minutes. At this point I was still thinking “I am sure she is okay I heard her heart beat yesterday and everything sounded normal.” We decided to go to the hospital just to make sure everything was okay. I remember pulling up to the hospital parking lot. My husband and I wanted to pray over Emma before we walked in. I remember going into a room so a nurse could check me.  The nurse kept asking all kinds of questions. Finally, a Doctor came in and did an ultra sound and I had no idea what she was about to say next would change our lives. I will never forget the moment the doctor told me Emma had no hear beat.  At this moment my heat felt like it stopped beating. I wanted to scream “No this is a lie.” I just heard a healthy heart beat yesterday. The doctor stepped out of the room to give my husband and I some privacy time to grieve. All we could do at that moment was pray for our daughter. My heart was racing and my blood pressure spiked way high. Doctors were concerned for the safety of my life. All I could do at that moment was cry. 

The Doctors decided to start the labor process. I remember my family walking in the room I felt like I had failed everyone.  I was suppose to be bringing a baby home for my family to spoil and love her. My sister Ashley I felt like was so close to her even though she never met her. All my family was there to help us grieve.  All the next day on Saturday I was in and out of pain. A lot of it was a blur until about 9 pm the nurse said it was time to push.  At that point in time I thought God please let the doctors be wrong about Emma. Give us a miracle. At 9:35pm she was born I wished so bad to hear her cry. They gave her to me to hold she was as beautiful as I dreamed. The nurse took Emma to get cleaned up and she brought her back to us in a beautiful white dress with a pink and white bracelet with her name on it. My family got to spend time with her holding and remembering all the beautiful things about her. After an hour into it she started to feel cold. I wrapped her up with the blanket. The Nurse gave us the options for her to stay in the room with us. The next day it was Sunday. I knew it was a matter of time before the nurse would take her back. I remember holding her telling her how much I love her. We said our goodbyes.

The next day, Monday, it was time to go home. I dreaded going to an empty nursury.  I would go in her room every night and talk with God, and ask Him so many question on WHY did this happen to me? I felt so angry at Him for allowing this to happen.  I felt so alone even with my husband and my family were there for me. I felt so lost. How was I going to tell people what had happened to our daughter? It’s almost been a year, there is not one day that goes by I don’t think of her. What would she look like now? Would she be taking her first steps? Would she be making her first sounds and saying mama or dada?  

So many people don’t know what to say when you lose a child. My husband and I were eating for our anniversary. The waiter was talking with us and he asked us how many years we’d been married, which Is common to ask someone when it’s their anniversary. But I knew the next question he was going to ask us was “How many kids do you have?” I’m so proud to tell everyone I have a daughter in Heaven. Well his reaction was so different from most. He asked me what her name was? This brought so much joy in my heart.  All moms want to do is honor their baby when they can. I plan to honor her for the rest of my life until I see her beautiful face again. 

In the beginning I was sure I would never recover from this struggle, but, God has really taught me, that He is still good through it all. Moments and days still come when my breath leaves me because my arms want to be wrapped around my daughter, but I find comfort in knowing that because He lives, so does Emma, and we will meet in eternity one glorious day! I will never be the same, nor do I want to be. A perfect piece of me is in Heaven. 

Forever in our hearts- Emma Leigh Graham 9-23-2017

 

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Our Story of Hope- Impey Family (Stevie)

It had been a perfect Mother’s Day weekend. Our family had gone out of town, with a large group of close family friends, several with young children. The weather was unseasonably warm for Washington State, so we swam all afternoon on Sunday before heading home. It wasn’t surprising that our 2 young boys, 2 ½ yr. old Stevie and his 11-month old brother, Matthew slept the entire 3 hr. trip home! I worried the boys might not want to go to bed when we returned that Sunday night. I was 7 months pregnant with Drew and was ready for a good night’s sleep in my own bed. It’s a memory I will always cherish.

Monday morning, Stevie awoke cranky, not his usual content disposition. Both boys had a cough and a runny nose, but nothing concerning. On Tuesday, Stevie’s cold turned into flu-like symptoms and his demeanor began to worsen. He eventually grew listless, so both my husband and I felt we needed to take him to the E.R.

It was decided Bill would take Stevie, and I would stay at home with Matthew. I became anxious when I didn’t hear anything for several hours. Then, around 2:00 AM on Tuesday, the phone rang. I was alarmed that is wasn’t Bill on the line, but a nurse: “Hello, is this Leah Impey? We think your son has something wrong with his heart. Can you come to the hospital now?” 

By the time I reached the hospital, the Pediatric Cardiologist told us that Stevie was fighting some kind of an infection that was affecting his heart. They said “He is a very, very sick little boy. We are doing everything we know to do, but don’t know if he will make it through the night. His heart is being attacked, and is already half-dead. If he survives, he will need a heart transplant, and will not be able to live a normal life.” I can remember the horror and total disbelief what we were hearing. Fear gripped my body and soul in a way that’s indescribable. 

Since you are reading this story, you probably know the outcome. Stevie did not survive. By Thursday evening, our precious Stevie had lost the battle against a virus. I could share the part of our story where we felt like we might be losing our mind, and all the stages of grief we experienced, which certainly has value. Yet, I feel compelled to focus on the parts that helped us to keep breathing and living.

One memory that is crystal clear was on the first morning after we arrived at the hospital. Family and friends began arriving to offer support. We all gathered in a waiting room for prayer. My Dad made a statement before he prayed. It went straight into my heart and has guided me many times since: “We will not look to our circumstances, but to God.” I began to ponder the profoundness of that statement. That single sentence was absolutely pivotal. In one moment, the terrible, dark fear vanished. I had always known that the presence of God was always with me, but as I “looked to God”, I became aware of it. I “felt” the Peace that passes all understanding wash over me like a warm shower. I could breathe normally!

Don’t get me wrong. I was still very much in the middle of the most traumatic experience of my life. Both my husband and I were desperate for our son to live. Yet, somehow the Peace never left. 

There were lots of tears as we talked, prayed and waited to see if he could just hold out against this infection. I can remember sitting on the floor in the waiting room the second day, saying to some family members, “If God chooses that Stevie is not to be healed, I want to ask God for 2 things: 

  1. You are going to have to make me O.K. because I don’t know how I will ever live. I will never be O.K. if he dies! I think I will die too. Please, will you do this for me? 
  2. I want to make sure that we will have opportunities to talk to people about the Lord because of this tragedy. If you take Stevie home to Heaven, I need you to give us opportunities that last for as long as we are here on this earth. I can’t bear to be separated from him if there isn’t an on-going, redeemable value. I know suffering is never in vain in God’s economy. If you will allow us to make a difference for eternity, then that will make the separation more bearable. After all, God gave up his Son for the sake of the world, how could I not be willing to trust God with our son too?”

God honored me by answering those prayer requests in ways I hadn’t anticipated. I already believed that God is never surprised by events the way we are. In other words, He is all-knowing (Omniscient). I also believed God is never constrained by time the way humans are. Simply put, He is eternal. 

God displayed these two great attributes of Himself in a powerful way. Not being constrained by time, and by knowing all things, God had been providentially preparing me for a future He knew was coming my way. During those dark hours of worry and fear, He was gently aligning my heart with His. 

To say it simply, He walked with me “through the valley of the shadow death.” God gave me His eternal view of life, which included Stevie’s life. He impressed upon me that even if Stevie dies, yet will he live. God helped me to really believe this deep in my heart not just in my head. I knew that Stevie would still be alive in God’s heaven. This began to help me be O.K. if he died. This is how God comforted me. He was preparing me for my future, preparing me to live and die too. He answered this prayer by doing this for me. 

God honored my other prayer request by giving my husband and I opportunities to talk to other moms, dad who had suffered the death of a child. But we’ve also been able to minister to many people in various struggles as a direct result of Stevie’s death for over two decades. He was giving us a purpose, which is to bring hope to others who suffer. In doing this, we have found healing and have joy in our hearts. I cannot imagine how we could have healed and live, without God’s promises!

Just like you, we both still hate being separated from our Stevie. Yet, God has used our tragedy in so many redeeming ways, that we see are making a difference for eternity. This has made the separation more bearable. God has healed our broken hearts. 

For us, 25 years have passed. A couple of months after Stevie went to heaven our boy Matthew got to meet his newborn brother Andrew. Then came Claire, followed by Samuel. Now our 4 wonderful children are fully grown. Recently, our family grew again as we welcomed Jessica, our first daughter-in-law, into our family. 

Leah, Bill, Samuel, Claire, her boyfriend Hunter, Drew

Our new daughter-in-law Jess and son Matt

God answered my two prayers, and over the years He has answered so many more of our prayers regarding our children. God desires to answer your prayers as well. He also desires that you experience His presence in your time of loss. God has healed our broken hearts and He will heal yours too, simply by turning to and trusting Him. His comfort and presence are a divine gift to anyone who asks for it and receives it.