God's Grace

October 27, 2009
By , St. Louis, MO
God’s Grace
“What’s going on?” I asked my dad as I got on our backyard swing. My mom was four months pregnant and having horrible pains that crippled her. My grandma had taken her to the emergency room and none of us saw this big of a shock coming.
“She,” my dad tried to say after a long silence, “she’s in labor with Grace. She’s giving birth to her, Mikayla.” The news hit me like a freight train at top speed. To make matters worse, we had just found out that it was a girl and we had all agreed on the name Grace. I shook my head in shock and disbelief and yelled “No” no my dad.
I ran inside, starting to cry, and called my grandma. I was hoping that he lied or was having some mental break-down. But, when I called her, she told me that what my dad had said was true. I still couldn’t believe it, but my dad had to get to the hospital. I needed a friend desperately. I reached for my phone ounce again and called Nicole.
Nicole came over and basically held me for most of that night. We were both hoping that they could save the baby. All that night she told me, “it will be okay.” Trying to calm me down, only it was too late. Nicole had to go home because it was a school night. Even after she left, we talked on the phone for hours. I heard the news at about 3 o’clock that morning. Grace was born, and still alive, even though she never took a breath.
She was so weak, yet so strong because she held on to her precious life for 4 hours. I never got to meet her, but I’ve seen pictures. She had my sisters nose, could fit in the palm of your hand, and her skin was transparent, you could see her flesh. She moved, but she just stretched out her leg, the doctor said it was involuntary and she didn’t know that she did it.
My grandma and I rushed to the hospital, and I prayed that she would still be in the room, heart still beating. After the five minuets that seemed like hours, we arrived at the hospital and Grace was gone. My little sister was dead. I never got to meet her, or hold her for the few hours she lived.
My family and I sat in that room in silence for a good long time. Watching, waiting for something to happen. I think we all had the same thing running through our minds: Why did this happen? Finally, the doctor came in and released my mom. She was so incredibly weak, I had to help her do everything. We were going home, mom not pregnant, and no baby in the shiny new car seat. I had anger and once again denial pulsing through my body and mind. I had so many questions, and there were obviously no answers.

So small,
So weak,
You could see her flesh.
My sister’s nose,
And a tiny rose,
Placed right by her.
Her head was no bigger,
Than a plum,
But the room was so full of love.
So many people,
So much care,
It makes me wish,
That I was there.
I never met her,
But I know,
That in the end,
We will all be together.
So this one is for you Grace,
I love you so,
I can’t wait to meet you,
When I go.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback