Happy due date my little one,
Eight months ago, I cried with joy when I found out you would
be coming. Your daddy and I had been praying a long time for you, and we couldn’t
contain our joy. We praised God for his sovereignty and thanked him for this
long-awaited answer. I happily put away my favorite food – black olives – when your
little body made mine sick at the thought of it. I anxiously awaited the day I
would get to hear your little heartbeat. I was filled with joy at the thought
of you being friends with the prayed-for babies of my friends, one after two
miscarriages, and one after infertility. Our church celebrated with us, and I
held joy in my heart.
My cat started sleeping on my lap, her paws resting on my
abdomen, and I dreamt of a little girl born close to her mommy and daddy’s
birthday to continue the “family tradition”. I dreamt of wrapping you in warm,
handmade blankets, and buttoning crocheted sweaters around you to keep you
cozy. I dreamt of taking you, inside my belly, to two of your aunts’ weddings,
and felt excited at having to choose a looser dress for the second celebration.
I thought of how faithful God was to give you to us after so many months of
praying.
But then I started bleeding. I kept praying, kept hoping that God would bring us through, and that you would be safe. In my anxiety, I clung to the promise of God’s love and comfort. I listened to song after song, “Do not fear – I have redeemed you – I have called you by name – You are mine.” I memorized verses about having faith, and promised to honor this lesson in choosing a name.
I was afraid of losing you. I went for an ultrasound and was
told it was too early to see anything. Before, I had expressed my anxiety of
losing you, and a man at the pregnancy center reminded me of the bold words of
Daniel’s friends, “the God we serve is able to deliver us... and He will deliver us from your hand. But even if he does not,
we want you to know that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold”
(Daniel 3:17-18)
Even if. Even if I lost you, God was and is sovereign.
Even if, He was still God, and still worthy of praise. Even if, I
repeated over and over, even if, I still needed to cling to what He had been
teaching my heart, that I should not fear because God has called me by name.
I carried that in my heart, warily eyeing the spotting that
continued, and cautiously watching my lab results slowly climb. On the day of a
friend’s wedding, I got the news that they were higher than they had ever been.
At the wedding, I rejoiced in the increased queasiness and thought that maybe
it would all be okay. After all, this was the most pregnant I had felt in the
past few weeks.
You flew to our Father’s arms just a few days later, beating
us to Heaven.
The name we’d chosen no longer fit, and we searched and
settled on calling you Pearl, for you were small but precious to us. We
grieved, missing being able to hold you, but glad that you had only known love
in your short time with us.
And I’ll admit, I had hoped that you would have already
picked out your younger sibling to send to us, but I’m sad that still isn’t so.
So instead, I’ll cry, and ride the waves of grief, for the God who lets you
play at his feet told me, “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you…
I have called you by name, you are mine” (Isaiah 43:1-2).
