A NICU story of loss, love, and becoming

Faith in a loving God had become as second nature to me as breathing. It didn’t feel like a struggle. Motherhood had made me quick to pray for help and guidance, and I recognized God’s hand in my life quickly and often. I had always been blessed to see the people around me as children of God.

And then the crisis started.

In the early hours- and maybe even the first few days- of NICU life, I felt like I never stopped praying. I prayed over baby L, over baby E, over myself and Ryan. I prayed for her doctors and nurses. I prayed to understand what was happening and to know which questions to ask so I could be part of her team. I prayed for good traffic as I drove to baby E to my mother-in-law’s for the day. I prayed for warm, sunny walks in the afternoons. I prayed for comfort when I felt utterly helpless.

At some point- I can’t pinpoint exactly when- I felt like I started holding my breath. It felt as though my prayer didn’t even reach the ceiling of the NICU. Things continued to happen around us, and no amount of faith-filled prayer seemed able to change the situation. As had been true at other times in my life, I felt abandoned by my Heavenly Father.

I knew God was there, but I felt what we were facing wasn’t a priority to Him-that I needed to do this on my own. Prayer didn’t come easily during this time. The breath it had always given me barely seemed to fill my lungs, and I felt our of breath more often than not.

I remember asking both God and Ryan why I was being punished. I couldn’t understand what I had done to deserve this. I had been a “good and faithful servant.” I had followed the commandments. Where were my promised blessings? Why wasn’t I being succored? Where was my God? Where was my Savior?

As I cried and asked those questions, I began to lookback over the time we had spent in the hospital. I looked around at the people in my life. I looked into the eyes of my sweet baby girls-and there, I found God again. I found my Savior.

I realized I had been loved, supported, and lifted. I had so many people surrounding me, willing to bear my burdens, mourn with me, and carry me when I was unable to carry myself. This burden had been made light. In so many moments during that time the Savior and I were evenly yoked.

After these moments, my faith no longer looks the way it did before. It has taken on a completely unique shape. From some angles it looks familiar, but from others it is entirely different. I understand now that faith isn’t transactional. God is with us even in our darkest moments, when we don’t always see or feel Him near-especially then. God sends help from all around us: the kind words of a mom you ride the elevator with to the NICU floor, a warm smile from a friend at church, the sweet sound of giggles while playing with a child. And sometimes, He allows us to grow in the darkness. He knows what we need in order to grow and become who we are meant to be.

This is not the faith I had before. It has been shaped by loss, love and becoming- and that is a faith I can live inside.