Day 29: Finding Gratitude Through Grief
I’m thankful for my daughter; over the years, she has helped me slow down and enjoy life more.
Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past.
See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.
Isaiah 43:18-19
Day 29: I’m thankful for my daughter; over the years, she has helped me slow down and enjoy life more.
August 21, 1996: I clutched Isabel in the crook of my right arm; her swollen eyes closed, and she automatically turned her pink head, rooted around my breast with her open mouth as if frantically searching for something she didn’t know was lost; then, without forethought, latched onto my swollen nipple, she began to suck…hard. It was as if she had done this her whole life. I winced and held her tighter, trying to get comfortable in our uncomfortable hospital bed. I bent my head and touched my nose to her perfectly formed bald head, inhaling her newness; she smelled fresh, like spring after a morning shower. I couldn’t take my eyes off her face; she made cute little gulping noises that were accentuated by the unusual quietness of our hospital room.
We were all alone.
Twenty-four hours earlier, Steve had helped me bring Isabel Catherine into this world; our friend Rick, a physician colleague of Steve’s, stood by, according to Steve, “Just in case something goes wrong.” Twenty-eight months prior, Steve had unintentionally delivered Isabel’s older brother, Sebastian. He had to deliver Isabel. In my mother’s heart, I knew that someday Sebastian would remind Isabel that Papa had delivered him, not her. And even though Steve was hesitant (he had delivered hundreds of babies prior to Isabel’s birth by this time), he successfully guided our firstborn daughter into our earthly lives.
I sobbed tears of joy when Steve laid Isabel on my breast after her birth. I never, in my wildest dreams, thought this day would happen. God had given me a beautiful little girl. I felt God’s presence surround me in that hospital room, warming Isabel and me as if we were in a snug, cozy cocoon. God was happy for me. I was content and my life complete.
“Isabel,” I cooed to her while she continued to suck, mindless of the world around her. I reached out and touched her tiny pink hand with my forefinger. She instinctively grabbed it and held on tight. Her grip reflex was perfect.
“We have to take advantage of this time alone. It’s just you and me.” She opened her blue eyes for a moment and stared up at me. I knew she could only see shadows, but I knew somehow she was “seeing” me, and her head bobbed up and down as if in agreement with my words.
“Your big brother Sebastian is waiting impatiently for me at home. He’s not sure what to do with you yet.” I laughed at that thought, and Isabel popped off my nipple and started to squirm, rooting again until she latched back on.
Steve brought Sebastian to meet his little sister a few hours later. Our neighbors, the Kings, had kept him the night we went to the hospital. Leslie told me later that he’d slept on the floor next to her bed. He’d never been away from me before.
Sebastian looked like a young boy now. His piercing blue eyes surveyed the pink bundle wriggling in my arms with caution. He was still nursing, though now just in the morning when he woke up. It had been our cuddle time. He raised his white-blonde head, and with furrowed brows he looked up at me, lifted both his hands, and said, “Up, Momma.”
Sebastian cuddled on my left side and looked at Isabel on my right. He pulled her blanket from her face and, without my asking or telling, kissed her forehead. “My baby,” he announced to the room, and then he promptly bopped her on the head with his hand. That would not be the last time.
“Once we get home, your life will never be the same.” I told Isabel after Steve took Sebastian home. She was latched to my breast again and had been nursing for a few minutes. “He will want my attention. I told him he has to let you nurse first because you need my milk to grow and keep healthy. He has to learn how to share. I’m not sure how it’s going to go.” Isabel’s sucking lightened a bit. “He will be the best big brother, “I chuckled, “once he gets over the fact that life is not all about him.”
Isabel’s lips slackened on my nipple; she was fast asleep.
She was a beautiful baby, and she was all mine. I kissed her forehead and whispered, “I didn’t know if I would be able to love you as much as I loved Sebastian. Before you were born, I was so worried. What if I didn’t love you like you needed and deserved to be loved? As your birth day came closer, I kept ruminating over and over, How do mothers do this? Love another being as much as they love their first child?
I glanced away from Isabel for a moment and peered out the sun-filled window. It was already 91 degrees. Steve mentioned we might hit 100 degrees by the afternoon. If I raised my hand towards the window, I could feel the heat through the glass pane as it seeped into our air-conditioned room. I looked down at Isabel’s sleeping form; she had managed to find her thumb and was now sucking on it. I continued to whisper, “But you know what Isabel? it happened-I didn’t even have to try. I find I have more than enough love inside me to love you as much as I love your brother. I didn’t have to worry.” I smiled at this realization and closed my eyes and rested for a moment.
My eyes popped open, and my body tensed up when Isabel nuzzled her face into my swollen breast and started rooting once again. My brain began to churn, and suddenly I had a list of things I wanted to tell her before we left the comfort of our little hospital nest.
I stroked her face with the tip of my finger, “Well Isabel, in a few hours it’ll be time to get ready and face the world. I have the cutest white homecoming outfit for you to wear. But now I wonder if you’ll be too hot.” I heard her sigh in agreement. “When we walk out that door, life will come crashing in, but know this no matter what happens in your life, in our life…you are loved and cherished…not just by me or your father…but by God himself. God loves you so much and He loved you so much that He made me your mama. He knew I could take care of you and raise you up and teach you how to live in this world. And just know this… I love you so much and would do anything to protect you. And one day you will come to know that God loves you even more than me.”
I squeezed Isabel closer to my chest as tears of happiness welled up in my eyes.
“I can’t wait to tell you how God showed up in my life and loved me unlike anyone else. I want you to know how God rescued me from my past, how He’s with me today and how He will be with me and you no matter what happens to us in the future.”
“I can’t wait for you to hear that story. He is our happy ending.”
Almost thirty years ago, I welcomed Isabel into the world. Watching her grow into the remarkable woman she is today has been the greatest blessing of my life.
Over the years, I have watched her navigate the ups and downs of childhood, adolescence, and adulthood, each stage marked by her resilience, kindness, and infectious curiosity. Isabel loved her brother fiercely, and I know she still misses him. Through every joy and sorrow, Isabel has shown me what it means to truly love, to persevere, and to bring light into the lives of others. I am endlessly grateful to share this journey with her, and my love and pride for her only deepen with each passing year.
Through Isabel, I have learned the importance of savoring simple pleasures. Whether it’s sharing a favorite movie together or planning an unexpected day at Disneyland, she has brought joy into my world—not only as a child but also as an adult. It’s memories like these that remind me how grateful I am for her presence, her love, and for the love of Jesus we both share together.
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