Our Seven Day Miracle

 

 

This transition into November always brings back bittersweet memories for me.

It was during this exact week four years ago that I was pregnant with our first baby who we affectionately named Sprink. I remember some of these moments as if they were yesterday. I remember the sting of death that seemed to fill every room in our home.

Shortly after our miscarriage, I decided to write a letter to our little babe about the brief time we had together. As Infant Loss Awareness Month comes to a close today, I want to share this letter that means so much to me. The amount of time I spent with this baby may have been rather short, but the impact this child had on my heart and soul was massive.

If you’ve experienced a miscarriage, some of this might be triggering to read. However, I hope for most of you that it might help bring further healing as you re-live these emotions along with me.

__________

My dear sweet Sprink,

Day one:

I can’t begin to tell you the amount of joy I felt the moment my doctor called with my blood test results and we found out you were growing inside of me.

It’s the rare kind of joy. I think everyone experiences it just a handful of times in life. You feel so close to Heaven, you’re just that happy. It’s that surreal.

Finding out about you, sweet baby….it was beyond surreal.

I remember just wandering around the house in a daze the rest of that day. Your dad came in the room and caught me during one of these moments and we just giggled. We sang songs about God’s faithfulness, completely in awe of the “impossible” he’d just done inside of me.

I didn’t sleep at all that night.

At 4am I finally got up to go pray…and I barely even knew what to say. My heart was bursting. I could feel you growing and making changes in me. Changes I had prayed for years to experience. Oh, what a sweet sweet night that was.

Day two:

The next morning I got up, adrenaline still pumping through me, and I drove myself to Target. Today was finally the day I would make my first purchase for you. I had waited years for this day. I had had dreams of this day. When I could finally browse that baby aisle with a little secret growing inside of me. No sadness this time. Only pure joy.

I remember walking those aisles….again in a daze. Fearing I would run into someone I knew and that they would be able to read it all over my face.

I finally picked out your first pair of shoes. Oh, I could just imagine your sweet little feet in them! It took everything I had to keep from crumpling into a pile of grateful tears.

I finally made it back out to my car, pulled the shoes out of the sack, and just sobbed all over them.

Day three:

My nurse confirmed once again that my numbers were doubling and you were growing perfectly. Oh the relief that overcame me. I was smitten with you. I was in love. I couldn’t help but just stare at my belly in every mirror I came across. You were GROWING in there!!

Day four:

TWO LINES!!! I had never seen two lines like this before. And somehow even already knowing you were there, I was still scared to take these tests that had only ever crushed me so many times before. But oh I’m so glad I did 🙂

Day five:

We couldn’t wait to tell our close friends and family about you. It was a dream. It didn’t feel real. But oh my goodness, the celebrations, screams, and tears everyone had for you!!

We had a photo shoot already planned for that weekend and the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. We just couldn’t leave you out of those photos 🙂 I loved knowing there wasn’t just two of us in these pictures…but YOU. You were finally there too.

Day six:

The bad symptoms started. And oh the fear. No, God, no. I JUST found out about you!!! I prayed and prayed and prayed. I rested. I drank lots of water. And I prayed some more.

Then day seven came. Along with my biggest fear.

You weren’t growing anymore.

Oh my sweet baby, can this be real? How in the world am I supposed to say goodbye to you? My heart had already joined with yours! You were depending on me! Somehow I had let you down.

That day was a blur. Katie was there. Your dad came home early from work. She prayed for us. We all cried. We got angry. Your father broke the plastic butter dish sitting on the counter. Oh, I hate seeing him hurt like that.

I didn’t sleep at all that night.

A week later, the moment I had been dreading finally arrived. You left my body. Way too soon. I can’t explain the combination of pain and awe I felt to hold you in my hand and just stare at you. You weren’t just a little sack of tissue. You were my child. Our flesh and blood. My heart.

I wept and wept that day. And I wept even more when I laid you under the tree in our back yard. And in that moment, we sat on the cold ground, and once again sang songs of God’s faithfulness.

And that’s when the healing started.

Every day I glance out the window at that tree and I feel that pain again. The pain of remembering that you aren’t where you should be. As your mother, my heart aches that I can’t keep you warm and safe anymore.

And then God gently reminds me that you’re with Him. And that you’re warmer and safer than I could have ever kept you in this world. And that my time with you was the sweetest gift. And in my joy of carrying you…God met me there. And I know he celebrated with me! And in my grief, as I laid you in the ground….God met me there too. I let you go. And I know He cried with me.

The Bible tells us that there will be seasons of joy and sorrow. We’ve had several years of sorrow as we have struggled in our waiting for you, but in just seven days, you brought more joy than I think any of us knew was possible. These years of shots, appointments, tests, ultrasounds, procedures, blood draws, pills, heartache and tears became instantly worth it.

You were so worth it.

And here I thought that God was going to use me to nurture and grow you. But the complete opposite happened. God used your little life to completely change mine.

Your little life drove me to my knees to pray for things that I was too fearful to bring to God.

Your little life has forced me to more deeply surrender my fears and heartache into the hands of Jesus.

Your little life has pushed me further into a faith and a trust that goes beyond things I can see.

Your little life has helped me understand just a little bit more about how God loves His children.

Your little life was short, but you had a fierce purpose.

And though I still grieve that our time together was so brief, your little life has given me hope.

You were our seven-day miracle, and I couldn’t be more thankful for the time we had with you.

I love you so deeply.

-Your momma