Tears in the Night

On New Year's Day, we discovered some wonderful news: In September, our first baby would be born! (You can read about that exciting day here: Best New Year's Ever! or a letter to our expected baby here: Dear Baby Echols (First Seven Weeks)

A few days ago, I started bleeding and called our doctor's office around 9pm. The triage nurse told us to go to the E.R. immediately. That's where we discovered some scary news: Our baby's heart was beating much slower than it should be at 7 weeks, 5 days old. And a small part of the lining had begun to pull away from the wall of the uterus, threatening miscarriage. 

We learned these frightening facts from the E.R. doctor around 1:30am on Thursday morning. The doctor said there was nothing we had done to cause these complications and nothing we could do to stop them. The lining might very well reattach, but the baby's heartbeat needed to grow much stronger and faster.

I shed quite a few tears that night, and we spent quite a bit of time in prayer before, during and after the E.R. visit. Please, God, please help our baby live and grow strong and healthy.

I rested at home all day Thursday, and we made calls to our parents and small group for prayer support. We know God heard the many prayers for our baby, and we know He cared. Yet about 9 o'clock that night, I discovered that my bleeding had increased.

We went to bed with many prayers and tears, asking God to let us hold our baby in September, but placing our little one into His care and trusting Him to do what was best.

That night, we both dreamt about our baby. In Steve's dream, our baby was a boy making an awesome sound affect that Steve makes, one that our niece Daisy has tried dozens of times to imitate (with hilarious results)! In my dream, someone from heaven was telling me that our daughter was safe and happy there, and she knew how much we love her. Of course, we don't know our baby's gender, but the dreams ministered peace, joy and comfort to our hearts.

Before we had fallen asleep that night, we had both asked God to let our baby know how much we love him or her. I prayed that God would surround our baby with His presence and peace, and that our baby would not experience any trauma. I asked God that if He took our baby home to be with Him, He would place him or her in the arms of our dear friend Sara Emery, who went to Heaven unexpectedly a few months ago. Sara is so full of life and joy and affection, and I knew she'd love to meet our baby.

The next day (Friday), we went to our doctor's office for tests the E.R. had recommended to be taken two days later. Even though I had dreamed about our baby being in Heaven, we still held out hope that our baby was alive and well within my womb.

On Wednesday night / Thursday morning in the E.R., we had seen our tiny baby on ultrasound, and we watched its little heart flutter. But this time, the ultrasound couldn't find a heartbeat or even locate our baby. Heartbreaking! Hours later, lab work confirmed that my pregnancy hormone counts had dropped to less than half of what they were in the E.R., instead of doubling as they should have if I were still pregnant. Our baby was already with Jesus.

Needless to say, we cried. This is not what we wanted. Our baby is in a wonderful place, but we had hoped to hold him or her here on earth. We had hoped to enjoy watching our little one grow, laugh, learn and play.

Last night, I woke in tears. My tears really gushed when I realized I would never see my wonderful husband cradling our baby in his arms. He's so tender and good with babies. They notice him from across rooms and practically climb over their mamas to get his attention--when they don't even know him. Little ones who do know him love to be held by him, and they follow him around as soon as they can crawl or toddle. I was so excited to see our baby do that.

As I cried over the fact that Steve would never hold our little one, I asked God to not only give Sara a chance to hold our baby, but to also give a turn to my friend Heidi Peterson Brown, who went Home last January. And also to our baby's great-grandparents who've been gone a long time but would no doubt love to meet their great-grandchild.

And then I realized that our baby can already enjoy something I've longed to do many, many times. Our baby can be held close in the arms of our Abba Father, warm and safe in the Presence of the greatest Love in the universe. 

Why do I think God would take time to hold our baby? Because of how His Son welcomed little children to come to Him while He was on earth. Luke 18:15-17

Since God doesn't have limits on His time or on how much personal attention He can give His children, surely He will cherish holding our baby close. And surely He will rejoice over our baby's first smile--the smile I dreamt about sometime in the past two nights. I saw our baby smile right away, within minutes of delivery, and that must be because our baby woke up in the arms of our Father in heaven.

So we weep, but not without hope. We will get to meet our baby one day, and all these tears will be wiped away by the One who loved us enough to give His only Son for us. His sacrifice has a whole new meaning for us now that we've lost a child, and it's definitely more than we can fathom. Thank you, Abba Father.

Follow-up post: The Trouble with Grief