I’ve gone back and forth about posting this story.
Alas, I decided that it’s something I need to do.
Back in April, I wrote a blog entitled, Shiloh. This was the story of my second-born child, a baby girl, who even though was not physically born on earth, lives and breathes in heaven. This was the hardest, most emotional blog I ever wrote. Until now.
On Wednesday, August 15…Heaven welcomed another one of my babies.
I had no forewarning that this pregnancy wouldn’t go to completion. Everything felt good. Felt normal. I was healthy and had a healthy appetite. I had no pain. No cramping. I even had a tiny baby bump. My heart was elated and fully embracing the new life within me.
We had driven to Florida to visit Jonathan’s family on August 6th. We were having a lovely time, and I felt great. However on Sunday, August 12th, our last day of vacation, I used the bathroom and noticed something that made my heart stop. Within the bowl was red. I called for Jonathan.
He came in and saw it. He tried to encourage me, but I knew what was happening. Tears poured. We made our way to Emergency in Port St. Lucie. After several hours and several tests, I was diagnosed “Threatened Miscarriage” because the ultrasound still showed the baby and sac in the uterus.
But the bleeding didn’t stop.
As planned, we packed up the Impala Monday morning and started the journey to Michigan. I popped Advil and reclined my seat. The terrible pain and cramping continued the 816-mile drive to Tennessee. Each stop, every rest area plagued me. Each time I would use the toilet, I checked the basin for my baby. Isabella would stand beside me in the stall and notice me looking into the bowl. Curious as she is, she had to see too. Her eyes widened. She’d announce loud enough for the entire restroom, “Mommy, I see blood.” Cringe. My jaw cringed. My heart cringed. I’d whisper. “Yes, honey. It is blood. Mommy doesn’t feel good.”
It was the same story at every forsaken pit stop.
That night, as exhausted as I was, I tossed in my aunt’s guest bed. Even with a sleeping pill, I slept poor. My nerves and emotions were pulled beyond tight.
The very next morning, we piled back into the car. We still had 530 miles to our house. The pain grew worse as my muscles contracted inside my stomach and abdomen. My body fought to push the baby out, and I was powerless to stop it. Nothing hurts more than yearning to hold onto a baby that my body is determined to release.
Tuesday night, we pulled into our driveway at 8:30 pm. We unloaded the car with heavy hearts and tired minds.
Wednesday afternoon, Jonathan and I went to Zeeland hospital for the ultrasound. I stared at the screen. My uterus showed empty on the black and white monitor. I asked the nurse. “It’s empty isn’t it?” Sadly, she nodded. “It is.”
All hope of the baby making it was over. My child was gone. My body was once again empty. Heartbreak doesn’t begin to fully encompass the pain. It doesn’t fully describe the complete let down, ripped open, barrenness of dream, time, and life.
Shiloh, my second child, has been joined in heaven’s nursery by sibling, Selah.
Oh how I’ve struggled with this loss. This loss has hit me very hard. My heart still bleeds for the loss of my time with Selah here on earth. How I wish she were still in my womb, growing steadily and healthily. But ah, that was not meant to be. For reasons, I will never understand.
My precious, beloved Selah is so very special to me. This is why I have written this blog. I am proud of her, and I wanted to share her with everyone. Just as a mother posts the pictures of her newborn baby, so I needed to post the knowledge of my recent Heaven-born, Selah.
Her name is derived from the Hebrew word calah which means “to hang,” “to weigh” and “to value” and the word salah, which means “to pause.” As I think of Selah in Heaven, I indeed pause. I hang on the brief moments she was in my womb, and I will value her always. She will always by my third baby.
For now, I find strength in knowing that Shiloh and Selah are in the best of care. Together they grow strong. Beautiful in their bassinets. Covered in pure white lace. Flawless.
My arms long to hold them and cuddle them, but I know that in time I will. I have hope. Earth is for a short while, but Eternity is for always. There is much life yet to live. It will be lived as a complete family in Heaven. We will all be united.
I love all my children. I love them so.
While I carry my two-and-half-year-old Isabella in my arms, I carry Shiloh and Selah in my heart.