Baby Joy's Story

I know I haven't said a lot about life as we grieve the loss of our baby girl, but what do you say? We long, more than ever before, for the day when there will be no more disease, no more death. 

We named our baby girl Joy. There's a line in a poem by Kahlil Gibran that says, "When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight." The poem goes on to say how joy and sorrow are inseparable, and when one is with you the other is waiting for you. We are deeply sorrowful over the death of our baby because she was our delight, our joy. To us she'll forever be Baby Joy.

A few weeks ago I sat down to write the story of Baby Joy. I needed to write her story for myself - as part of my healing - and I wasn't sure whether or not I would/should share it here. But I know there are some of you who don't know the whole story and would like to - and I would like for you to. I also know there are some of you who are just here for the pictures, and I have to say I can't blame you. Those are some pretty cute kids. :) So for those who are here for the pictures, just scroll on down to the following posts and get your fill. For those who want to read the story of Joy, click on the "Read more" link below.

 Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. Psalm 73:25-26

I’m beginning the story of our sweet Baby Joy with this Psalm because this is where her story begins – with a confession that I have nothing in heaven or on earth besides Him. The brokenness and trials of this life do not change who God is.  He is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

The week of May 23^rd we noticed a strange rash on Nate’s body. It didn’t seem to bother him, but it continued to spread throughout the week, eventually turning his cheeks bright red. He didn’t have a fever, so I took him to his Mother’s Day Out program on Friday wondering if they’d let him stay when he looked so bad. His teacher was a little concerned and sent us to the office to see what they’d say.

When we walked into the office, they knew exactly what it was: Fifths disease, also known as “slap cheek” because of the way it turns your cheeks red. She explained that he could stay because by the time it shows up on your body you’re no longer contagious, but the only problem with Fifths disease is that it can be harmful for a pregnant woman in her first trimester. I was 11 weeks pregnant.

So, I freaked out. And the following weekend when I had a fever and terribly achy joints – all the adult symptoms of Fifths - I freaked out some more. I read about it online and talked with my midwife about our options – blood tests and a series of ultrasounds that would do nothing but make us even more anxious. This thing was completely out of our control.

I sought the LORD, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears. Psalm 34:4

That’s exactly what we did. We sought the Lord and asked Him to take our fear away. We confessed that worrying would not add one day to this baby’s life. We sought the Lord, and He took our fear away. Completely. Over the next two months we lived our lives as though we had never hear the words “Fifths disease.” I fully enjoyed the precious time I had with Baby Joy as she continued to grow and develop inside me. How gracious of the Lord to give me that time with her, and to give it fully with no fear in my heart of the days to come! He is the strength of my heart.

On July 18^th I went for a regular appointment with my midwife. I admit that I was feeling a little anxious before going to the appointment. I was 18 weeks by that point, but I wasn’t feeling the baby move. We had been in Chicago visiting my brother the week before, and while we were there I had a series of nasty headaches that wouldn’t go away. I never have headaches like that, but I dismissed them as a result of the crazy amount of traveling we were doing. But I had a feeling that things weren’t right.

And they weren’t. The room was eerily silent as the midwife tried in vain to detect the baby’s heartbeat. There was none. Our sweet baby was gone.

We made an appointment with my OB that afternoon, where we learned that I would actually need to give birth to this baby. I had assumed they would perform a d&c, and honestly I hoped they would perform a d&c. I didn’t want to give birth. That would make it too personal. Too painful.

We made a phone call to our sweet friends, Travis and Rebekah, and they agreed to spend the night at our house with Nate and Evie while we spent the night in the hospital having a baby. We checked into Labor and Delivery around 7 pm and spent a couple hours with our nurse who very kindly and gently informed us of what seemed like hundreds of decisions we would have to make, and then around 9 pm they began inducing labor.

Baby Joy was born at 5:15 the next morning. I was wrong in wishing I wouldn’t have to see our baby. Holding her gave us such joy! She was 6 inches long and weighed almost 2 ounces. She was beautiful! Her frail little body had been so wonderfully formed. She was perfect.

I have to say I’ve never felt anything quite as awful as I felt walking out of Labor and Delivery without a baby in my arms. Sure, we had the little white box filled with tiny handprints and footprints and other memories of our baby girl that the hospital provided. But I had that strange feeling that I was forgetting something, only multiplied by a thousand. You’re not supposed to give birth and walk out of the hospital a few hours later empty handed. It’s just not supposed to be that way.

I would like to say that because we lived without fear and trusted the Lord completely with this baby that the following hours and days and weeks weren’t so painful. But that’s not true. My tears flowed more freely than they ever have. My heart aches and I long to see my baby girl. It makes me sad when I watch Evie playing with her babies and I see what a good big sister she would have been - how she would have adored her baby sister. And when Nate says he doesn’t want the baby to live in heaven with Jesus. He wants her to live with us. I do too, Nate. I do too.

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.
For I am the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. Isaiah 43:2-3

My comfort in my suffering is this: Your promise preserves my life. Psalm 119:50

Even though my head was swimming at the time, I remember vividly a conversation Stephen and I had the evening we found out Nate had Fifths disease. Stephen was sitting at the computer and I was working in the kitchen, and the kids were giving us a moment of peace. Stephen turned around and said something like, “We don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know that our God is the same no matter what. If the baby doesn’t get sick, He’s the same. And God forbid, but if it does, He’s the same.” I’m thankful to have a husband who continually speaks truth into my life. What he said was true. He’s the same today as He was in May. And I can still say there is nothing in heaven or on earth I’d rather have than Him. He is enough.