I can say with confidence that 2017 has been the most difficult year of my life so far. I experienced the most devastating storm ever and hurricane Irma.

Losing Noah six weeks earlier made Irma seem like a beautiful walk in the park. Don’t get me wrong, Irma was absolutely terrifying, especially the preparation and anticipation. As a community, we have not fully recovered from the damage the storm caused. Although I personally was not affected by it as much as we anticipated, my beautiful State of Florida was, and it has been devastating.

You see, as the monster storm approached, I couldn’t help but compare it to the storm no meteorologist could have predicted was coming into my life six weeks earlier.

The reason I am writing this is not to “make it all about me”. I am fully aware that Irma was a catastrophic storm for the islands in the Caribbean, and it affected the entire Southeastern United States. The recovery from a natural disaster is very different from the emotional recovery I have experienced these past months. On one hand, you can always rebuild your home, but I will never have my baby back. On the other hand, the shock and hard emotions after Noah’s death felt much more comfortable at times than having no electricity or water for days, especially in the late summer Florida heat.

So, allow me to share with you ten common themes and lessons I learned (or relearned) during the two events that will mark 2017, and my life, forever:

1. Life is unpredictable.

   We are not in control. I’m sure we all had plans for the weekend of September 8^th. Hey, I was supposed to be 20 weeks pregnant, halfway there! I also know someone whose wedding was scheduled for September 9^th. Well, I am not 20 weeks pregnant, and she is not married. We make plans, and plans are good. But ultimately we are not in control. Infections happen, storms happen, life happens, death happens.

2. Worrying does not change a thing.

   If someone would have predicted with a week in advance the category 27 (a gross underestimate) hurricane that hit me on July 25^th the same way they predicted Irma, my short pregnancy would have been very different. What was worse in the Irma experience (for me, at least) was the anticipation days before. Fighting for gas, making sure we had enough water, worrying for my family, especially my nephews and niece, was just painful. I was a nervous wreck and cried out of anxiety as we tracked the storm on the news.

   I was blissfully unaware of the catastrophe that resulted in Noah’s death (a post with the full story will follow this one) prior to the darkest week of my life. I even made plans (see #1) for the baby’s nursery, and bought a Nintendo Game Boy onesie for the baby in honor of Jon’s favorite video game hardware.

   Turns out, Irma was not as bad as I had anticipated (for me), we didn’t need the extra water we stored, or the extra gas. And my baby boy never got to wear that onesie. The prior feelings of fear, or (blind) happiness, did not change the ultimate outcome of the situation.

3. Material things are not important.

   There is a peculiar question people like to ask at dinner parties, “What is the one thing you would save if your house was on fire.” Turns out when you are told the “Most powerful Atlantic Ocean hurricane ever recorded” (which, was not true, by the way. Thanks, media) is heading your way, you are forced to answer that question. The answer for me: Noah’s box. Period. I packed some other things that had both material and sentimental value (including the computer which I am using to write this). But ultimately, if I could hold on to one thing that was in my house was the Noah’s memory box.

   

   But the most important lesson I learned in regards to the material is that our hope is not placed in this world. Even if I were to lose Noah’s box, I would still not lose Noah. The essence of who he is will always be with me, throughout my life.

   And even more important: even if I were to lose my life, I would still not lose everything. I did everything I could to be safe. However, in both Noah’s death and Irma, I was shown a Truth greater than all truths: this world is temporary. People would say that my Noah lived a short life and it was a tragedy I didn’t get to see him grow. It is a tragedy, I agree. But even if he would have lived and died years after my own death, it would still be a short life. Tragedies point to something beyond this world. Something of eternal value. And that something is not found in this world. Whether we have or have not, there is something beyond what this world can offer. As C.S Lewis put it:

   “If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.”

4. So by extension, you are forced to focus on what truly matters.

   Taking a break is a luxury to the average adult, sometimes impossible. But when facing a storm that can literally destroy your home and even kill you, you make time to prepare and you are forced to disconnect. Take, for example, my brother. He has his own company and works hard every day to provide for his family. When the storm got too close for comfort, he was forced to pack his computer and put it away in a bag. He told me he never turns his computer off. In the face of losing his house, his life, and/or his family; his work–which he does from his computer–had to be put aside.

   Before Noah died, I used to worry about so many things, such as: am I going to be a working mom or stay at home mom? Am I going to vaccinate? (yes); am I going to buy another car? Etc.; When Noah died, these things did not matter anymore. The worry and concern about these peripheral things disappeared in the face of the scariest news of my life. Suddenly, I was free from what I thought mattered. During storms, you are stripped of the less important things you thought were so important. You find what really is important: family, relationships, moments, quality time. Money and material things are not.

5. It’s okay to hide. It’s okay to “seek shelter”.

   It was mandatory to be indoors during Irma. You would have to have a death wish if you were out of your house the Sunday Irma hit South Florida. We could not and were not expected to face Irma right in the face (although the poor TV reporters did, but they also go to war zones, so they’re used to the risk). We are meant to seek shelter.

   

   I felt the Lord’s overwhelming peace the moment the doctor said “there was no heartbeat”. Only if you have experienced this peace that passes understanding (see Philippians 4:7) you can relate to what I experienced that day. I was in the care of amazing doctors and nurses, I was at a great hospital. I ate good food and watched Shark Week on TV. Friends and family came and we talked, cried, and laughed. When I got home, there were times that I would watch funny YouTube videos to “seek shelter” from the reality of the storm I was experiencing. Of course you eventually need to go out and face it.

   On Monday, we had to go outside and assess the damage the storm caused and work to fix it. Every day I have had to face the reality of having a dead son, and I will for the rest of my life. But it is okay to seek shelter. God knows we cannot handle facing a storm right in the face.

6. There are always good things in the storms.

   (I personally do not know anyone whose home was destroyed or who lost someone during Hurricane Irma. Therefore, this point is coming from my personal experience, and I am fully aware this does not apply to all people affected by Irma). “Hurricane parties” are popular where I live. Being off work/school for days, forced to seek shelter and stock up on snacks and (sometimes) alcohol, results in often fun times.

   Jon’s brother and my sister in law evacuated to North Carolina as a result of Irma. They had an amazing, much needed vacation with my in laws and my nephews Micah and Liam. Jon and I decided to go to my mom’s house. My brother and my sister in law, along with my nephew Benji and baby niece Sofia spent two nights with us at my mom’s house. It was great family time. When the lights went off, we had deep conversations and strengthened our family bonds. Hurricane Irma gave us family time and a much needed break.

   The weeks after losing Noah were filled with more love, and laughter than tears. During the darkest time of our lives, we were shown the love of people around us. I have experienced God’s love in a deeper way in the past eight weeks, than any other time of my life.

7. You see a different side of people.

   I am sure we all have nice stories of people coming together during hurricane Irma. A helping neighbor, and unexpected act of kindness from a friend, an amazing response from a kid. I am sure you also witnessed people fighting over a gallon of water in the supermarket, filling up three shopping carts with “essentials” and returning it after the storm didn’t hit them directly. There is something about facing death that brings out our “true” selves. I have been pleasantly surprised with the response of some of my friends and family members during my grief. People who I never expected anything from (and even wrote off), responded with the kindest, most helpful gestures. On the other hand, the silence of loved ones has been shocking. I have learned that people do not want to deal with the pain and reality of death, even if it doesn’t affect them directly, so they hide when you need them the most. They keep hiding in the aftermath of the storm, when it’s most important to come out and start the hard work of repairs. It is true that in the darkest of times we are shown the people that truly love and care for us.

8. I have an amazing mom.

   The common thread of support throughout every single storm in my life has been my mom’s strength. Particularly, in the past two storms I personally experienced this year. My mom rushed to the Emergency room (and was stuck in traffic with my brother for four hours) the day that Noah died. She not only cried with us, but she held us. She was solid, and even in the midst of losing her grandson and seeing her daughter going through most excruciating emotional and physical pain ever, she stood by our side and did not move. She rubbed Jon’s shoulders, found food in the hospital, made sure we were comfortable and has continually supported us while we are both going through grief.

   It was no surprise that during Irma we decided to seek shelter at her house. It was the safest place physically and emotionally to endure this storm. And it was awesome. She cooked and took care of us (a little too much, we got spoiled). As I said, if I get to be half of the mom and wife my mom is, I would consider myself lucky.

9. God is good all the time.

   Imagine you lose absolutely everything you were afraid to lose during a storm. That happened to me. When I first found out I was pregnant I praised the Lord for being good and allowing me to get pregnant and, as any other mom, was absolutely terrified of having a miscarriage. And then I did. And God was still good.

   Southeast Florida got “lucky” when the hurricane didn’t hit us directly as a category five as expected. Which is good, but this fact doesn’t show us God’s goodness. Because if we go with that premise, then was God not good to Barbuda? He is.

   As hard as it is to see in a storm, or in the aftermath, God is good even through the trials. Especially in the trials. I have been given a new perspective on God’s goodness. God is not a “do good things and good things will happen to you” type of God (obviously, as I did not “do” anything to deserve the infection that killed my baby; just as the people in Barbuda didn’t do anything to deserve their island being destroyed by Irma). There is a certain Bible verse people love to quote in situations like this:

   “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” Romans 8:28

   Even in trials that statement stands true (as all scripture is true), but not necessarily in the way our culture likes to see it. God is good and His plans are good, but His definition of good is far from our definition of good. His plans are so far above and beyond our finite ideas.

10. Storms are scary, especially the aftermath.

    I wish I could say that the single most painful moment of my life was that July 25^th evening at the emergency room when the doctor told me there was no heartbeat. But it wasn’t. The most painful moments have come during the subsequent weeks, when I am reminded I will never meet my boy here on earth. When I wonder what he would be like, and my heart aches. I find my arms empty and I feel I was robbed of being a mom to my baby boy. The hardest aspect of this grief journey is adapting to my new normal. If you ask anyone who has been directly affected by a storm such as Irma, I am sure they will tell you that even though the storm is scary, the scariest part of leaving that shelter is learning what your new normal looks like.

Storms are inevitable, both physical and emotional. Irma taught us how little we are in control. Pain in life, such as the death of a loved ones, should teach us the same. However, as author M. Kathleen Casey said, “Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.” Let the inevitable storms of life transform you for the better.

To all affected by Hurricane Irma, my thoughts and prayers are with you. We are strong! Please contact me if you need help.