I didn’t know if I’d write about this so soon or ever write it really. Something so personal and dear to my heart. But, I feel like the more I write about it, the more I may heal. It may even be healing for someone else going through the same thing.
Ever since Hallen was born, I was ready for her to be a big sister. I know that’s a BIG statement, but it’s the truth. I wanted ten little Hallen’s running around and calling me mommy. After we started trying for number two, I got pregnant in four months. It seemed like such a long and such a short waiting period all at the same time. I was nervous it would take another two years like it did with Hallen, but four months seemed like a breeze once I finally got the positive!
Of course, I was nervous, just like every woman in her first trimester, but we decided to tell friends in Baltimore since we were moving away so soon. So, we announced it at a little going away party. Everyone was thrilled, and we were thrilled that we could tell them They had prayed for Hallen and they had prayed for this little nugget too.
Two weeks after we moved to Charlotte, I just felt like something wasn’t right. You might call it a mother’s instinct. And I didn’t have an appointment lined up for another few weeks, so we went to the ER on a Saturday morning for two hours of tests and ultrasounds. When the doctor came in, I immediately started crying. His face was so sad and distraught. His eyes were trying to dam up his own tears as he found the words to tell us our little angel was actually an angel. She had left this world a couple weeks before. I don’t even remember any words after that. I’m not sure how we made it back to our car. The world seemed fuzzy and my body was faint.
It was Mother’s Day weekend, and I felt like my body had failed me as a mother. It was Mother’s Day weekend, and I knew I’d never get to rock this baby. It was Mother’s Day weekend, and all I could do was cry, hugging my stomach. Why had the Lord let this happen? And why on Mother’s Day weekend of all weekends? I couldn’t wrap my head around something so dreadful on such a beautiful day. This wasn’t supposed to be part of our story! Infertility was our story – not miscarriage! I didn’t know how to walk down this path.
The hospital arranged my appointment with an OB that Monday. I went to see him, had another ultrasound, hoping that they’d pick up a heartbeat today. Maybe today her little heart would start beating. Maybe Saturday was just too early or a bad dream. Maybe they had old ultrasound machines. Maybe God would perform a miracle! But, you living on this earth wasn’t a miracle He was going to perform. When the ultrasound machine turned on, she looked so perfect and peaceful. There was a little body with two little buds for arms, two little buds for legs, and her precious little face. She was beautiful. The tech tried to make it as short as possible as she saw tears stream down my face. Hallen was watching the monitor in her stroller, and even her little jumbled up words sounded like she was trying to tell me that we’d be okay; that there is still a purpose for her life. These tears of tragedy would be turned into tears of praise.
My surgery was set up for the next day. All of this was going so quickly. Knowing I’d only get 24 more hours with this little baby in my womb stung like a bee on a hot July day. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. I wasn’t ready to let go of all these hopes and dreams I had for her. I wasn’t ready to be cut off from her. I wasn’t ready for this new reality.
But, this is our reality. This is our life. This is our story. I’ll never know the exact moment her heart stopped beating inside of my womb; the place that was made to keep her safe and comfortable until November. You weren’t a mistake; there was nothing wrong with you as some people awkwardly say when trying to fill the silence and comfort us. Our hearts aren’t better off because you were taken early. But, my Darling, you have changed our lives forever and for better. Just having your brief presence in our lives was better than nothing at all. As much hurt that is still inside of my body and heart, I know that you were meant to just be a part of our lives for a short time. And now we have a little angel watching over us.
“You still had a purpose. Something to teach your father and me. Our pastor in Charlotte said something that resonated with your death. “Maybe your troubles or hard times are to help serve someone else. Your life is bigger than just you!” And, you, Darling, are just that. Your blueberry sized life wasn’t made in vain. Those 8 weeks were purposeful. And that has to be my mantra to make it through some days. I know the Lord is rocking you on His lap in his rocking chair just listening to those sweet baby coos and wiping the drool off of your chin.
I know you’re much better off where you are now, but how I wish I could kiss your soft, plump cheeks; count your fingers and toes before you lie down each night; nurse you to comfort. I wish I could hear your voice say my name as you grow; play with Hallen; and hear your giggles. I wish I could kiss your first boo boo and hear about your first crush. I wish I could see what a strong person you’d become as you grow. But, my Darling, our time on earth together has ended, so now my wishes have to change. I cannot wait for you to meet me and your daddy at Heaven’s gates one day and tell me how glorious your days in Heaven have been. How amazing is it that you will never have hurts and sorrow. Darling, you were created so that we can keep pressing on through this life with a driven purpose. We choose joy instead of sorrow and praise instead of condemnation. We’ll love you for eternity and more. “
Mommy, Daddy, and big sister Hallen