Open Up Your Broken Heart

The news (local, national, and world) is so full of all the things going wrong. When I drive places people cut me off. When I am in the store I hear people being rude to the cashiers. It is easy to think there are no good people left and you have to just look out for yourself and those you love.

However, over the last couple of months, but especially this week I have personally seen so much good. It turns out a tragedy can show you how much good there really is in our world.

On Monday, I finally got enough courage together to call a funeral home to begin planning for Mira's services. Joe and I decided to make arrangements as soon as possible so we did not have to obsess over them and could get it out of the way to focus of Mira's life. Also, so we would not rush important decisions we would later regret. I have been wanting to select a funeral home and make calls for a few weeks. But every time I picked up the phone, I just couldn't do it. Monday I finally made the call. What happened is I spoke to a very kind man who listened to our story and asked right away "What is your daughter's name?" This was such a relief after reading stories of funeral homes who go straight to sale pitches (why not buy a plot too, a whole family plot so you can be with her when its time?) or asking if they are sure you want to bother with a service for such a short life. Justin at Snyder Funeral Homes was kind, respectful, and compassionate. We met with him the next day. Picking out an urn and making arrangements for the death of our daughter as she wiggles and kicked around inside of me was surreal. Justin's compassion and understanding was above and beyond his call of duty as a funeral director. Snyder also charged us much less than is standard (you cannot put a child on life insurance until after they are discharged from the hospital, so this is not an option). While there is still a cost, it is much less than the thousands of dollars that these services usually cost. The kindness we were shown will never be forgotten.

On Thursday, the builders that will be working in our basement (due to the AC flooding it in July) came to our home to start. They were aware I was pregnant from our conversations when they first came out to do an estimate and asked how I was doing. I let them know our situation and was given true empathy and compassion from both the owner and the worker there. Both said they would be praying for Joe and I and asked to pray with us at some point when we were both home. Again, I saw compassion in a place I never expected it.

Today, I received a reply to an email I sent inquiring about 3D ultrasound. 3D ultrasound has been suggested to us so we can have more bonding time with Mira before she is born. It is not medically necessary, so insurance won't cover it, but Joe and I decided the expense was worth it in our circumstances. I emailed the only provider in Lancaster County (Womb With a View) and asked if they felt comfortable giving a scan to a baby with a fatal diagnosis and if the staff could be prepared to be compassionate. The owner replied to me and assured me they could do this, and also said they would give us their full package at no charge due to Mira's diagnosis. This kindness is overwhelming to me. A woman is willing to lose profit in her business to help a stranger.

These times this week that strangers showed us such compassion, kindness, and empathy showed me that God is still working in our lives. He may not have given us the answer to our prayers that we wanted, but he is putting the right people in our lives to help us through it. These are just three examples out of dozens. It can be seen in family and friends/coworkers that give money to help pay for trips to CHOP. It is coworkers who cover things for you without complaining so you can go to the many appointments. It is friends that take you out for meals, movies, and just time away so you can stay busy. It is friends who are far away that text just to check in. It is all of you who talk to Mira everyday and do not shy away from an uncomfortable situation or avoid Joe and I out of fear.

Reading to Miriam Jordan

I don't want to make it sound like everything is fine. It's not. It sucks. Joe and I fall apart on many days, really most days, okay, maybe all days. Planning for our unborn daughter's funeral is awful. Thinking about ways to make the most of this time we have with her, while that time seems to be ticking by unimaginably fast, is overwhelming. Our hearts are broken and will be for a long time. We don't understand why this is happening to us, or why it would happen to anybody. We have questions for God. A lot of questions. We have doubt and anger. We are confused. We are overwhelmed. We are anxious. We are terrified. But it turns out we are also loved and cared for. By family. By friends. By strangers. By God.

There’s two kinds of people

Those who try and those who don’t

And only time will tell which one you were

And it’s alright if you don’t know 

Which way you’re gonna go

Just don’t be afraid to feel it all

And there’s the door

You can quit right now, up and leave 

You don't need this anymore 

Yeah tonight, lights out, shut it down 

Or you can 

Open up your broken heart

And keep on wanting

(The Fray)