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April 13 has changed a lot over the last 8 years. I was up early today, cutting dogwood blossoms to put in a mason jar. Each year, the dogwoods bloom right around Eva Grace’s birthday. Like a lot of mornings, we talked about Eva Grace with our kids. She comes up way more than I would have expected. Camp especially thinks of, and wants to talk about, his, “big sister who lives in heaven”. We’ve covered everything from what she looked like, the condition she she suffered from, and most importantly we talk about where she lives now with Jesus. No matter the day, it moves us when our kids tell us how the look forward to meeting sweet Eva Grace someday. We all long for that reunion. 

There is a strangeness to April 13 as the years have passed. Different house, different job, 4 more kids…. same obnoxious shedding dog though! It felt like we were kids when we lost Eva Grace. We didn’t know people who had lost kids. We do now. We have sung hymns of hope through bitter tears alongside of others who have experienced the same kind of loss. Back then it seemed like putting a foot in front of the other was impossible. I could not imagine putting any kind of “life” back together. Now there is little room for “quiet” (cuz 4 kids). I mean most of the time MW can’t even use the bathroom without having to hold a child….   But, we are so thankful for our kids. Just today I looked at the whispy curls around Wynnie’s ears and thought to myself, “That looks just like Eva Grace’s little curls”. Truthfully, I never could have imagined the heights of joy and love that we would experience in the last 8 years. Neither could I imagine the persistent pain of losing her. 

Today even in the noise of a life overflowing, we are stopped in our tracks to remember our girl. Over the years I’ve built a dam that holds behind it a deep and powerful flood. Most of the time, we talk about her and that water is a small peaceful stream. Again, we talk about Eva Grace all the time and it’s always with joy! Today you just have to let the floodgates open and be swept up in it all. 

I make Spotify playlists for each of our kids, and one of her songs is, “How Deep The Father’s Love”. Specifically the line, “how great the pain of searing loss, the Father turns his face away” hits me hard every time I hear it. I know that Jesus really meant it when he said, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” I know it because he gave his life for me, for Eva Grace, for all of us. For now, we mourn. While we feel the ache of the searing loss of Eva Grace, a loss that hurts as much today as ever, we really do find comfort in God who knows exactly how it feels to see your child die. We fix our eyes on a promise. A promise, that soon we will arrive on eternity’s shores. I can’t wait to see Eva Grace there, kiss her again, and spend forever worshipping God alongside of her. 

Habakuk 3:17-18

“Even though the fig trees have no blossoms,
    and there are no grapes on the vines;
even though the olive crop fails,
    and the fields lie empty and barren;
even though the flocks die in the fields,
    and the cattle barns are empty,
yet I will rejoice in the Lord!
    I will be joyful in the God of my salvation!”

great is thy faithfulness.

on May 25th 2015, Eric and I were having a slow morning, making breakfast together, with plans to go to a friend’s house for a cookout later that afternoon.  I got this feeling. “I should take a pregnancy test.”  maybe it was mother’s intuition or maybe I was just longing to be pregnant again… who knows. I took the test and left it in the bathroom, not really expecting anything.  a few minutes later, I went to check the test and thought for sure I was seeing things. “there’s no way,” I thought.  “we can’t be.” well, we were.

when I was pregnant I would frequently sit at the piano and play. my repertoire is limited these days so I would play one of my favorite hymns, “great is thy faithfulness.” my favorite part of that song is the chorus:

Great is Thy faithfulness! Great is Thy faithfulness!
Morning by morning new mercies I see;
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided
Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me!

flash forward to February 11, 2016. At 3:59 am we welcomed a 10 pound 2.2 oz baby boy, Campbell Gray Imhof, after 18 hours of labor. Great is Thy Faithfulness.

on Easter Sunday Camp was baptized by his “Papa Quigg.” that morning I was thinking about Jesus’ disciples and how they must have felt after Good Friday. anguish, heartache, confusion. but suffering only last for a moment and then Jesus replaced their mourning with Joy when he rose from the grave.  in the last year we have felt all those things in a very real way. we mourned the death of our sweet Eva Grace, but the Lord has traded in death for life. He has taken our sorrow and turned it into Joy. he has given us Campbell – and man, what a gift he is! the Lord has begun to heal us and restore us. Great is Thy Faithfulness.

its been a year since we lost Eva Grace. I’ve thought about her every day in the past year.  sometimes it’s sadness, sometimes it’s just thinking about how cute her nose was or the tiniest bit of hair she had. my favorite memory of her is a moment we had – probably a minute or maybe two, but time seemed to stand still. it was just me and her. Eric had run out to the waiting room to grab some friends so they could come back and see her. but for a moment it was just the two of us. I held her and stroked her chubby cheeks with my index finger. they were still so warm from her having left my body only minutes ago. I looked at her and kept falling deeper and deeper in love. every second that passed, I loved her more. Eva Grace had a genetic disorder called Triploidy and because of this, she looked different. by the world’s standards she was not beautiful. she had multiple “birth defects” and was too small or too this or not enough that. but to me, she was perfect.  i looked at her and saw nothing but beauty.

as I looked at her i thought, isn’t this the way the Lord looks at us? we are flawed, sinful people but He looks at us, his children, and says you are enough. you are beautiful because you are mine.

Great is Thy Faithfulness. we have this verse hanging in Camp’s nursery as a constant reminder of the Lord’s goodness. I needed this reminder today. I needed every word of it. today was hard. I felt like the wind got knocked out of me and like I was constantly trying to catch my breath. but I am so thankful for the truth of these words:

“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
    his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness.”

 

Sweet Eva Grace, you will always be my girl.

a happy mothers day.

Our great friend, Tom Lim, made a video for us of all the pictures he took during Eva Grace’s birth.  We have thought about her so much today; we’re joyful because we know she’s with Jesus but we ache because she’s not with us.  I’ve been waiting for the right time to share this video and today seemed fitting.  Thanks for making me a Momma, Eva Grace.

Fallin’

People who are close to me know a few things about me for sure. I love the Bojangles in my hometown, I have an irrational fear of being on swing sets, and one of my favorite artists is Alicia Keys. ‘No One’, ‘Fallin’, ‘My Boo’ (with Usher), are a few of my favorites. Her best work though, in my opinion, is her song ‘If I Ain’t Got You’. When 7th grade me first saw the music video on MTV, back when they actually played music, it was love at first sight. It’s always been my go-to song, and Mary Wynne and I even danced to it at our wedding (not as our first dance song though). It is my all-time favorite song, and I’ve always loved it.

When Mary Wynne first told me she was pregnant, I was mid-bite into a piece of sausage she had cooked me for lunch. “Eric, I’m pregnant”, she said. The next noise you’d hear was the fork (and sausage) hitting the ground. My jaw dropped, and I was absolutely frozen. Needless to say this pregnancy came as a bit of a shock to me, considering we had only been married for a month. Weeks passed, and I came around to the idea of having another human in my house. My only request to Mary Wynne was that I never had to change a dirty diaper. She said okay, but I’m pretty sure she was crossing her fingers. It’s a strange feeling to know that you are having a baby, especially when it’s your first. I was asking God, “why us?” I wondered why we had been picked for this. I mean come on. We are young, poor, and can barely take care of our dog Beau and a few basil plants. I was sure that I would wake up from this dream any minute to my normal life, but I didn’t. I wrestled with this for weeks. It may sound cold, but I just couldn’t understand why this happened to us.

After a while of being pregnant you start going to the doctor. The OB. I still have no idea what that stands for, but I’ve become very familiar with his workplace. We walked into the doctor’s office, signed in, and took a seat. Looking around us, we were in an ocean of pregnant women, babies, and the occasional obnoxious child wreaking havoc on all of us innocent bystanders. A good friend told me recently, “Seeing babies makes you want one. Small children don’t have the same effect.” Truer words have never been spoken. The nurse walked into the room and called my wife’s name. We walked back with her, and she delivered us to another waiting area, called the “Dogwood Room”. I thumbed through an old Time magazine, then doused my hands in Purell for fear of catching some disease lying dormant on the pages. They called us back into a room, and squirted this crazy blue gel on Mary Wynne’s belly. One of us was a hot mess of sweaty palms, hair a mess, and shaky knees. Mary Wynne, on the other hand, looked lovely and had a hopeful anticipation in her eyes.

A few moments later, and there she was. It was kind of like being shown one of those ink blotches and being asked, “What do you see?” We couldn’t really tell top from bottom, but after a moment we could see the shape of a little person. Nothing could compare to hearing the heartbeat for the first time. Quick, decisive, and steady. My heart was melting. I couldn’t resist anymore, and I began to fall in love with this little one. Doctor visits were frequent, and we were always looking forward to seeing her on the ultrasounds. It wasn’t until 20 weeks that we were told there could be something wrong. Something serious. Something life threatening.

Life suddenly came back to a grinding halt. If you’ve read my wife’s previous posts, they have a lot of information about what they thought it was at this point. They said it was probably a chromosome disorder. Trisomy 18 most likely. I didn’t understand a lot of the stuff the doctor was saying, but I did understand the words, “incompatible with life”. When you hear something like that, it leaves very little room for hope. I mean, how could a tiny baby overcome a disorder that is not compatible with life? Leaving the doctor, I was aware of every smiling, healthy, happy person around me. I hated it. I didn’t hate them, but hated this situation. I had fallen for this baby, and now they’re telling me I might lose her. “Why God?”, was the question on my mind constantly. I would sit in my car, parked in the driveway, for hours and ask that question. We locked ourselves off from the world, and we cried. We were so incredibly hurt, and scared of a future that we had no power to control.

It was love at first sight with Alicia Keys, but it took time for me to really love our baby. But once I fell for her, there was no going back. She was the little person that we loved the most, and now we were afraid we’d lose her. I think that time, when we first found out something was wrong, was a time of growth for us. It was a time of ‘stepping up’, and learning what it means to be a parent. That was all fine and good, but it didn’t change anything. We prayed, but things got worse. I was wondering what I would even do with myself if I lost her. Alicia put it well when she said, “everything means nothing, if I ain’t got you”. Thankfully, this wasn’t the end of her story.

Never the same.

Hey everyone. Eric here. My wife has asked me to write a few posts. I don’t have the wit and charm like she does, so you’ll have to bear with me. Here goes nothin.

It’s been a while since you’ve heard from us. Sorry for the radio silence on our end. It’s not you, it’s me I promise. But the great thing about friends coming back together is sitting around and catching up. I’d say we have some catching up to do. The last time we spoke, we were talking about test results, frustration, ultrasounds, and I think Starbucks too. We’ve come so far since then, but I couldn’t possibly get you up to speed in this one post. Have you seen the new show on Netflix, “Bloodline”? Come along with me on this little tangent. Bloodline is this new show, of which I’ve seen one episode. The first episode sets up the whole plot line, but it moved a little slow for my taste. Then, all of the sudden, there was a flash forward to a crazy event that would happen later in the series. The hooks were set, and I couldn’t not watch the rest of the episode. It peppered the flashes in tastefully, and helped me appreciate the need for a long building foundation to the show. With that in mind, I’d like to share with you a flash forward, but just a flash. Then, if you don’t mind, we should go back and talk about the things leading up to it.

Monday, April 13, 2015 at 7:24 pm

Eva Grace Imhof was born into this world, though she had already gone to be with Jesus. She was delivered at 31 weeks, but measured at the size of a 21 week old baby. Little girl was 14.1 ounces (of pure Imhof muscle). Doctors tell us she was so small because of a thing called Interuterine Growth Restriction, but I’d say she was just dainty. Her birth was a reflection of her life. It was an emotional, spiritual, and physical roller coaster. The highs were incredible, and the lows were unbearably painful. But here she was. I’ll never forget the moment that Dr. Swisher handed Eva Grace to me. Love ripped through my whole body, and I felt like time had frozen around me. Drew Holcomb puts it well in his song, American Beauty, saying, “she was sweet but she was strong”. She was so fragile, but I felt like the one that would crumble. She weighed less than a pound, but I had the weight of the world in my arms. If you had told me that that moment was heaven, I might have believed you. I handed my daughter to her mother. What a picture. You can’t understand it until you see it, but there isn’t any love like the love a mother has for her baby. I was meeting Eva Grace for the first time, but Mary Wynne had been with her the whole time. All of Eva Grace’s life was spent with Mary Wynne.

Family and friends poured into our waiting room. The word broke of our little girl’s arrival, and everyone rushed to meet her. It was like a 15 car pileup in there. Chatter, laughter, tears, and anticipation. We spent the rest of the night introducing those folks to our baby girl. Eva Grace’s time on this earth might have been one of the greatest evangelical campaigns of all time. She didn’t waste time or words, and her mere presence seemed to bring the Lord’s presence to everyone who met her. She exuded the gospel. She embodied Christ. She obviously got that from her mother.

I told you about my new show, and the flashes of what is to come later in the season. I’d love to tell you more right now about Eva Grace’s birth, and our time with her, but I think you want to know the whole story. I mean, what is a crescendo without the build up to it! Writing has been incredibly therapeutic for me through all of this. I’ve hand written everything I can think of about Eva Grace, and our time surrounding her arrival. Right now, my focus is on filling the pages of my journal with memories of her that I never want to forget. As I continue to write those down, I’ll come here and talk to you. I’ll share all about Eva Grace, her delivery, her time on earth, etc. Maybe I’ll share some of the letters I’ve written to her, and some pictures of her with her mommy. Who knows! Please be patient with us through this. We are mourning, and we write on here as part of the mourning. It’s part of the healing for us. I won’t be on here every day, but maybe once or twice a week.

The good news is that the best of friends are inseparable by distance or time. Reunions of best friends are filled with sharing, and that’s what we want to do with you. Share her, share our experience, and mostly share the love of Christ revealed to us through her.

PS: I started this iTunes radio station when we went to the hospital for delivery. We listened to it the whole time we were there, and haven’t stopped listening to it even after leaving. It reminds me of Eva Grace. If you want to listen along, I’ll post the link to it below. You can enjoy it on your computer or phone.

https://itunes.apple.com/us/station/eva-grace-imhof/idst.598650214

Not lacking anything.

If you know me, you know that my favorite place to spend my free time is Starbucks.  The other day I was sitting in Starbucks enjoying my Grande iced coffee with soy milk and half the sweetener while I did a little people watching.  Behind me was a young mom with her son who looked to be about two years old.  They were discussing important things like the color blue and how to hold a crayon.  I sat there and cried while I tried to avoid eye contact with them or anyone else in the building.  My heart hurt because I wanted that so bad.  To be on a Starbucks date with my babe, talking about colors and crayons.

A week ago we got a call from my OB.  When I picked up the phone I could hear excitement in his voice and then I heard him say, “Honestly, I’m quite shocked! You’re blood test came back normal.”  This is good.  So good.  This blood test is 98% accurate and tests for Trisomy 21, 18, and 13.  So praise God, our baby most likely does not have Trisomy 18! My OB explained that this puts us back at square one, with no diagnosis for our sweet babe.  But we are cautiously hopeful.

Because the blood test came back normal, we decided to get a second opinion from a doctor that so many of our friends love and respect.  If nothing else, we hoped he could explain things a little better.  As we drove up to his office I was so hopeful, so nervous, but so excited to get to see our baby again!  For the first time we could see little legs dancing and kicking – s(he) looked like a real baby!  We saw teeny-tiny toes but feet that were bowed – not good.  We saw fists that were clenched, a belly that was measuring too far behind, and a heart with an obvious defect.  At first I was just so sad, I wanted the ultrasound tech to turn off her machine because I couldn’t stand to hear the extra thump in the heartbeat that clearly was not supposed to be there.  Then I just got angry.  This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.  I wanted to take this baby on Starbucks dates and talk about colors and crayons.

In college, my roommate and I decided to memorize the book of James.  We only made it through the first chapter, but that chapter on trials, temptations, and obedience has stuck with me.

James 1:2-4

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” 

As I was reading this morning, that last verse got me good.  Not lacking anything.  I wrestled with those three words for awhile thinking about how we will mostly likely miss out on a lot of time with this baby.  But I think I missed the point.  The testing of our faith produces perseverance and through perseverance He will work in us, to make us mature and complete.  Whole. Not lacking anything.  This doesn’t mean that we will be without heartache and sorrow and everything else that comes a long with this baby’s condition, but this means that in our heartache and sorrow we will lack nothing.  He promises to be close to the broken hearted, to be our shepherd in the valleys, and to be our refuge and strength in times of trouble.  So today I’m holding on to those promises.  Not lacking anything.

I am weak

I am weak.  Weaker than I’ve ever been.  Can I tell you that I’ve kept the door to the nursery closed since last Tuesday because it’s too hard for me to look at the cute crib and baby essentials we have sitting in there.  I went to Starbucks several times last week for iced coffee because I thought it would make me feel better.  I only cooked dinner once last week and I’ve skipped out on going to the gym more than a few times.  I’m a mess. But I’ve been reminded of this verse over and over again.

2 Corinthians 12:9-10

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

Over the last week I’ve been made aware of my need for Jesus more than ever.  I’ve needed Him to carry me, to sustain me, to be strong when I am oh so weak.  However, it wasn’t until today that I realized I’ve needed Jesus this much all along.

A friend of mine was diagnosed with cancer when she was 26 and knows this weakness and need for Jesus in a real way. The other day she sent me a text that said, “Wow, will this bring you to Jesus and a deeper more intimate marriage. I was thankful cancer happened to us young.  Because God is for us, he is for you, and your marriage and your heart.  Deeper more real marriage.  That’s what I want and what I pray for newlyweds.  To walk through grief and suffering only to be carried by Jesus.” 

And she is so right.  I would never wish this on anyone. Anyone.  But what I do pray is that we would be made aware of our need for Jesus, whether it be in the middle of a crisis or when everything is just fine.  That our marriage would be deeper and more intimate because of it.  That we would experience His power in our weakness.  That we would be carried by Him when we feel crippled.  And to even rejoice in our weakness!

So let me shout it from the mountain top – I AM WEAK!

But He is strong.

even so.

Last week I got to help lead worship at my church and one of the songs that we sang was “It Is Well”.  The entire service was one of those services where you know the Lord is there and he’s doin’ work, but during this song in particular I felt Jesus was really doin’ work.  The line, “even so, it is well with my soul” hit me hard and I couldn’t get it out of my head for the rest of the day.  I was anticipating our appointment Tuesday and knew that if something were wrong with the baby, they would likely find it at this appointment.  Little did I know that my Jesus was quietly preparing me for what was to come.  Even so, it is well with my soul.

Tuesday night, after everything had unfolded we spent time with both of our families – talking, crying, and maybe just maybe drowning my sorrows in a chocolate bar. #pregnant  At the end of the night I asked my dad, “Dad, what is our prayer?” I didn’t know if our prayer was for a miracle, that God would completely heal our baby or if our prayer was for our baby to go be with Jesus, to never know pain or sin.  What is our prayer? I think my prayer is that I would praise Jesus, that I would praise Him the same, no matter what.  If we lose this baby I want to praise Jesus the same as if he had healed our baby.  Will you pray that with us?

Habakuk 3:17-18

“Even though the fig trees have no blossoms,
    and there are no grapes on the vines;
even though the olive crop fails,
    and the fields lie empty and barren;
even though the flocks die in the fields,
    and the cattle barns are empty,
yet I will rejoice in the Lord!
    I will be joyful in the God of my salvation!”

Even so, it is well with my soul.

Do you see the little nose, eyes, and mouth? That’s our sweet baby!

the beginning.

On August 9, 2014 we got married.

On September 30, 2014 we got the biggest surprise ever – we’re pregnant!!

On January 20, 2015 we were told that our sweet baby has some serious, life threatening birth defects that led the doctors to believe our baby has Trisomy 18 – a chromosomal disorder in which 90% of babies pass away in utero, 50% of babies carried to term will be stillborn, and less than 10% of those born will survive the first year.

I’ve always wanted to have a blog.  Maybe I would write about nutrition and exercise, decorating, or being a homeschooling, bread making, all natural super mom.  Never did I think I would be writing a blog about this.  But here we are – My American Beauty.

Earlier this week I heard a song by one of my favorite artists, Drew Holcomb, called American Beauty. I wept through this song as I thought about our baby.

She was a good companion, eyes like the Grand Canyon
She was an American beauty
She was a long goodbye, she was the best alibi
She was an American beauty
…
A gorgeous vagabond, she was sweet but she was strong
She was an American beauty
She was déjà vu, she was a catch-22
She was an American beauty
…
Goodbye came like the morning sun
She fired shots from a loaded gun
Wish I had held her longer
Wish I had held her long
…
She was a good companion
Eyes like the Grand Canyon
She was an American beauty

 

Everything about this song makes me think of our baby.  We don’t know whether we’re having a boy or a girl, but my gut tells me girl.  I know she’s going to be beautiful, that God is knitting her together exactly the way He wants her to be.  The doctors told us our baby has shallow eyes, but I know they’re more like the Grand Canyon – there will be so much depth in her eyes.  This baby is my sweet companion. There’s something indescribable about being a mother, getting to carry your baby, she’s my sweet companion.  My prayer is that I get to carry this baby to 40 weeks, and not a day earlier.  That we would get to hold our baby, even if only for a short time, I just want to hold her.

Another reason for “American Beauty” is because I know Jesus is doing something beautiful in all of this.  I’ve already seen it. And I can’t wait to see what else He will make beautiful because of our sweet baby.

Isaiah 61:3

To all who mourn in Israel,
    he will give a crown of beauty for ashes,
a joyous blessing instead of mourning,
    festive praise instead of despair.
In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks
    that the Lord has planted for his own glory.  

This is not a story of mourning or despair, but a story of praise and joy.  We have hope because of our Savior who has redeemed us.  We have hope because our baby will one day be with Jesus.  We praise Him because this baby is fearfully and wonderfully made.  There is no flaw in you sweet baby.