April 18, 1996, started off beautifully! I woke up that
morning excited as I felt my son moving around in my belly. It was a glorious
feeling and one that I didn't know if I would ever experience. After years of
infertility and the devastating loss of my first child through miscarriage, I
had reached five and a half months in my pregnancy with Ben and my dreams of
becoming a mom were finally coming true! To top it off, my sister, Stephanie,
was also pregnant and due any second! Excitement was in the air and lots of
visions of baby booties and rocking chairs were in my head.
Shortly after I woke up, we received the call that my sister
was in labor. I could hardly wait to get to the hospital to welcome my newest
niece or nephew. I was finally able to be excited about going to the maternity
ward knowing that I would be there soon having my own child.
That beautiful morning quickly turned to a horrible nightmare
as the elevators doors opened and I saw my mom standing there crying. What came
out of her mouth, still to this day, crushes my heart.
"They couldn't detect the baby's heartbeat. The ultrasound
shows that the baby has died."
That phrase entered us into a heart wrenching day of grief and
loss. Spending the day in the waiting room of the maternity ward is supposed to
be exciting awaiting newborn cries and passing out candy cigars. This waiting room
was turned into a room full of mourners questioning how this could happen.
How could the cord that is supposed to provide life in the
womb to this precious baby be the very thing that takes this baby's life?
It couldn't be real. It had to be a terrible nightmare.
But it was real and we were thrust right into the middle of
the nightmare.
Walking into my sister's hospital room seeing the devastation
on her face still breaks my heart. The pain and agony she endured through hours
of labor only to hold her baby daughter in her arms, lifeless, seems more than
anyone should bear. Instead of preparing pink bows and frilly clothes at the
end of the day, we were preparing for a funeral. Instead of loading a baby seat
in the car, we were putting it away and grieving the emptiness. Instead of
celebrating new life, we were mourning death.
Hannah Sharon DeHass left this world on the day of her birth,
April 18, 1996, and entered the arms of Jesus.
So here we are, 18 years later and I remember it like it was
yesterday. The pain is still there but so is
the tremendous hope that I will see my niece again. I think of my sister today and
her amazing strength and courage. She didn't give up. She put her hope in the
Lord. She is my hero and I love her so much!
Today, I pause in honor of my sweet niece, Hannah, and picture
her twirling around in a beautiful dress on the streets of glory. I see her
happy and whole as she runs straight into the arms of Jesus...her
Abba...her Daddy!
Happy 18th Birthday, sweet girl! Aunt Alli loves you!
Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder
them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”
Matthew 19:14 (NIV)
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