Krista’s Story of Hope

“So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.”
-2 Corinthians 4:16-18

I have repeated these verses many times. Most of the time, when I am trying to fall asleep and sleep won’t find me—when my mind is wondering and remembering. I have fallen asleep repeating these verses, saying it over and over again until the tears stop. I still do this. There are still days when I feel like I can’t catch my breath and I can’t find relief from the sorrow. So, I repeat this Scripture.

It took us years to get pregnant. We did everything we could. We were dedicated with our time and money. I followed every instruction to the T. Finally, with the help of fertility treatments, we found out I was finally pregnant. I was overjoyed! I yelled, alerting my coworker immediately. 

My pregnancy progressed without any hiccups. Little Olivia Fe.

One day, at 27 weeks, I stopped feeling her move. I drank coffee and sodas and ate chocolate. All of her favorites. Nothing helped. The next day, I went to get checked out. No heartbeat. We cried, howled, begged, and pleaded with God. We knew He could bring her back. After all, we deserved it—at least I felt like I deserved it. We made our way home from the doctor and had to tell the news to our family. 

On December 1, 2018 I gave birth to our beautiful, still, daughter. We spent time with her. Bathed her, sang to her, read to her, and danced with her. All the things I would never get to do again on this side of heaven. We could have stayed another day, but I could tell that time was taking a toll on her fragile body and decided it was time to leave. I replay this decision time and time again in my mind. “How could I have ever put her down?”

And so, we said our goodbyes. We left the hospital empty, unsure of what to do next.

Over the next couple days, we planned our first baby’s funeral. We were in between churches at the time and asked a pastor from a church we had visited a few times to speak at our daughter’s funeral. He did a magnificent job, and oddly enough, I left the funeral feeling at peace.

One day, I listened to a song by Shane and Shane, “Though You Slay Me” with excerpts from John Piper. That lead me to a sermon by John Piper over the verses I quoted above. 

I had never thought much about the sovereignty of God before Olivia died. I knew He was in charge, that He worked all things together for good. But I had never actually considered His sovereignty and what that meant—that good could actually come out of us losing our daughter, that God could not only use her death, but that He actually ordained it in accordance with His glory.

When I begin thinking about losing Olivia, I can’t handle it. But when I think about the good that I have already seen, that I know I will continue to see, I can begin to breathe again. 

THE GOOD THAT I HAVE SEEN

My relationship with Christ has deepened. When Olivia died, all I wanted was to hear the Word of God because I knew my comfort could be found somewhere there. I didn’t know where, but I knew it was there, I was just waiting for someone to point me in the right direction. And I found it. 

As I look, not to what is seen but to what is unseen, I am comforted by the fact that the eternal life I found in Jesus will be far better than anything I could have dreamed of with Olivia here on earth. Not only will I be reunited with Olivia, but I will be with my Savior. I will spend eternity praising my Savior in perfect joy, perfect peace, and in my perfect body.

I was also someone who always questioned my salvation. I didn’t feel saved. I didn’t have an eye-opening transformation the moment I received the Holy Spirit. I still wrestled with detestable sins. Am I really saved? Maybe I should pray this prayer one more time. 

Since we lost Olivia, I have had salvation confirming moments that I have never experienced before. The Monday before we lost Olivia, my dad had me listen to the song “It is Well With My Soul.” He also told me the back story of the song. I remember thinking, “Why would he have me listen to this song.?” It seemed so inappropriate with me being almost seven months pregnant. I didn’t want to hear about kids dying. That following Friday, I learned Olivia had no heartbeat. My first Mother’s Day, we sang “It is Well With My Soul” in church, and the next day at my grief counseling session, my counselor quoted it again.

During the summer, we planted a memorial garden for Olivia in our front yard. It was full of purple and pink Gerbera Daisies—like one I left in her hand when we left the hospital. One day, while tending to the garden, I noticed that one of the daisies had sprouted a bright yellow daisy. This daisy lasted a couple months, and returned to its original color. Moments like these seem coincidental, explained away with a simple explanation, but it is nothing but the providence of God.

My world has opened up to a huge community of people that I never thought twice about. I knew babies died. I knew of miscarriages and stillbirths, but I never knew how common it was, that there could be this many mothers broken like I was and am. I was instantly thrown into an exclusive club that no one wants to join. But this club, though full of believers like myself, is overflowing with moms and dads who are not only hurting, but lost. I now have an avenue to reach out to these people, a common ground to point them towards Christ.
 
I was able to reach out to someone seven months after Olivia’s passing. My sister-in-law texted me needing information about Hope Mommies. One of her patients had miscarried the night before, and she wanted to give her some information and an avenue to talk with others who have had a similar experience. I was able to get a Hope Box to her, and left her my phone number. As of yet, I have not heard from her, and I may not ever, but that door is open. Since that day, I have had the opportunity to send out several Hope Boxes, some even out of state.

After Olivia passed away, I desperately tried to get a grip on something I could control. We decided to try to get pregnant again. During that time, Stephen was given an offer to go to Africa on a mission trip. This particular pastor thought of us when he thought of Malawi, Africa, because their infant mortality rate is incredibly high. I was invited, but because I am a planner and a controller, I planned to be pregnant by then and declined to go.

After more fertility treatments, we found out on March 29, 2019 I was pregnant again. But my numbers were bad. They retested the following Monday only to find that my numbers were negative. I miscarried that baby, Gracen, a few days later, on April 4, 2019.

The planner had no plan and an alarming sense that God was shouting at me to remember that He was in control. So I decided to find out if I could still go on the trip. I found out, however, that I waited too long and missed the window.

About a month before the trip, Stephen called me and told me he had chills—a spot had just opened up on the Africa trip. So I went. There are few times that I’ve known that I was exactly where God wanted me to be, and being in Africa was one of those times.

I still struggle daily with losing Olivia and Gracen. And when I find myself struggling, I repeat 2 Corinthians 4:16-18 to myself until my heart believes what my head already knows.

Our babies are in heaven—in God’s glory, worshiping their heavenly Father. Anything I could have wished for them in this life is already fulfilled in the eternal life they are now experiencing. Stephen and I will join them one day and we will all worship Him together. This is the eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison.

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Krista is married to Stephen, who is currently in seminary at Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary. They are parents to two hope babies.

We would be honored to share your story as a Hope Mom on our blog. On Saturdays we feature Hope Moms’ stories in order to showcase God’s faithfulness even in the midst of such deep sorrow. If you would like to have your story shared on our blog for this purpose, learn more and submit here.

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