Last Wednesday, I had my 6-week postpartum appointment with Dr. M. I was completely dreading it. Whenever I'm on the hospital premises now, emotion rises up in me, and I have to choke back the tears. It didn't help seeing all the pregnant women in the building. It seemed strange not to be waddling like a penguin down the once seemingly endless hall to get to the elevator. The entrance to the birthing center is right next door to the building where Dr. M's office is, so I tried not to look over there.
We were at the office for one and a half hours. I don't understand why they would allow us to wait in there that long. Don't they know how hard it is for us to be in there? There are memories there that I don't want to face just yet...memories of seeing her chubby cheeks on the ultrasound screen, memories of hearing her heart beat week after week, memories of setting up my induction date, memories of talking about her, preparing for her.
When I first arrived, they made me fill out a stupid paper to see if I have postpartum depression. It was the same sheet they made me fill out at my 3 week appointment. I'm telling ya, they seemed like trick questions. I wanted to ask what the right answer was. Umm, duh I feel sad. I mean, I did just lose my baby less than two months ago. But, no I'm not going to commit suicide or whatever it is you're afraid I might do. So, I just tried to answer what I thought they would want to hear. In my answer choices, I tried to show that yes, I'm sad, but yes, I'm going to make it. I have Jesus.
I hate the way so many people look at me these days. As soon as they find out that I lost my baby, they immediately become uncomfortable and have no idea what to say. Either they avoid it completely, or say nothing at all. I noticed some of these "looks" in Dr. M's office. Bridget was the only one who seemed like she truly wanted to talk to me. She came right out of her office as soon as she knew I was there and hugged me, with a big smile on her face. She lost a baby nineteen years ago, so she's not awkward about it at all. In fact, she called me when I was in the hospital and told me how sorry she was and she's there for me if I need anything. I plan on going with her to an "infant loss support group" sometime soon.
I'm healing up well physically. I can start running again. I did run on Saturday evening. But, I'm still recovering from it. I mean I expected to be sore after not running for so long, but this is beyond sore. My stomach muscles are really hurting, as in like it's hard to walk hurting. I think I'm going to have to join Planet Fitness right away so I can get back into shape, without having to hurt myself too much in the process.
My mom and I went back to talk with Dr. M alone in His office. We were in and out of there in minutes, like he didn't have enough time to answer our questions...he kept saying, "anything else...anything else?" Even before giving us a chance to say what we wanted. He went right into telling us there is no medical explanation for why Lily died. Honestly, this is what I was expecting. I was just waiting to hear the words from him. God somehow spoke this truth to my heart, that He simply took her. There was no reason...no reason other than the fact that He needed her with Him. He needed her far more than me. And He has a plan far beyond what I can comprehend.
I remember at the hospital saying it didn't matter what the autopsy results discovered because it wouldn't bring her back. That's why I opted not to get one. But, then the hospital offered to give a free full autopsy, and I agreed. I know God worked that out because He didn't want me to always wonder why she died, what the medical explanation is. Because, you see, God is much greater than "medical explanations." If He wanted her here with me, she would be! I have to keep reminding myself of this.
For a while, I wondered if I would rather have a medical explanation or not. Which would be harder? Would it be harder to know there was something that could have been done to save her, even though it's too late or have no reason at all? At least I know there is nothing wrong with me. At least I know there was nothing I did. And I'm thankful I now know that I need to have c-sections in the future to avoid any complications in childbirth. If Lily had lived, she might be permanently damaged now because she barely fit through my pelvic bone. I'm thankful God made it work out that I had a natural delivery, so I would find this out. I'm thankful that I had that experience with her. I will always treasure the memory of giving birth to her, my baby. It made me feel like a mother. I didn't have much of a chance to be a good mother to her.
I have complete peace in what I now know. She didn't suffer, she didn't flop around in pain. She was alive one moment, and the next she was gone...Still. One minute she was in the earthly realm, the next in the spiritual. He breathed the breath of life into her, and he took it away. He took her away. In the most beautiful way possible. It may sound strange for me to say that, but God has a way of bringing beauty to any and all things. He has a way of healing and restoring even the most broken of hearts.
He wanted to bring me the assurance, the peace, that she's not here because she was never meant to experience the pain and sufferings of this world. It's amazing that God even worked out the details of her name, long before I truly realized the amazing depth behind the meaning. I named her Lily because I she was to be a symbol of renewed purity, redemption. Little did I know how much she would live up to her name. God gave me the name, Lily Katherine. I had no idea that Katherine also means purity. Both her names, both mean purity. And she will forever be pure. God delights in the small things, He places such a sacred essence on things as small as a name. My Lily is with a beautiful God who knows her by name, gave her her name, gave her life, and took her life. I praise Him through this storm.
He took her silently
He took her away
She was far too beautiful to stay
He took her perfect
He took her pure
She knew no sin,
No suffering to endure.
He took her painlessly
In the night
The only thing she knows
Is Heaven's light
He loves her more than I do
And knows what's best
In His arms, is where I'll rest
There is no reason
No one to blame
Still, I miss her just the same.
I'm a mother who held her baby
For just a day
But, in Heaven she waits
That's where she'll stay.
I'll hold her again,
Kiss her, and love her.
Of this I am sure.
We were at the office for one and a half hours. I don't understand why they would allow us to wait in there that long. Don't they know how hard it is for us to be in there? There are memories there that I don't want to face just yet...memories of seeing her chubby cheeks on the ultrasound screen, memories of hearing her heart beat week after week, memories of setting up my induction date, memories of talking about her, preparing for her.
When I first arrived, they made me fill out a stupid paper to see if I have postpartum depression. It was the same sheet they made me fill out at my 3 week appointment. I'm telling ya, they seemed like trick questions. I wanted to ask what the right answer was. Umm, duh I feel sad. I mean, I did just lose my baby less than two months ago. But, no I'm not going to commit suicide or whatever it is you're afraid I might do. So, I just tried to answer what I thought they would want to hear. In my answer choices, I tried to show that yes, I'm sad, but yes, I'm going to make it. I have Jesus.
I hate the way so many people look at me these days. As soon as they find out that I lost my baby, they immediately become uncomfortable and have no idea what to say. Either they avoid it completely, or say nothing at all. I noticed some of these "looks" in Dr. M's office. Bridget was the only one who seemed like she truly wanted to talk to me. She came right out of her office as soon as she knew I was there and hugged me, with a big smile on her face. She lost a baby nineteen years ago, so she's not awkward about it at all. In fact, she called me when I was in the hospital and told me how sorry she was and she's there for me if I need anything. I plan on going with her to an "infant loss support group" sometime soon.
I'm healing up well physically. I can start running again. I did run on Saturday evening. But, I'm still recovering from it. I mean I expected to be sore after not running for so long, but this is beyond sore. My stomach muscles are really hurting, as in like it's hard to walk hurting. I think I'm going to have to join Planet Fitness right away so I can get back into shape, without having to hurt myself too much in the process.
My mom and I went back to talk with Dr. M alone in His office. We were in and out of there in minutes, like he didn't have enough time to answer our questions...he kept saying, "anything else...anything else?" Even before giving us a chance to say what we wanted. He went right into telling us there is no medical explanation for why Lily died. Honestly, this is what I was expecting. I was just waiting to hear the words from him. God somehow spoke this truth to my heart, that He simply took her. There was no reason...no reason other than the fact that He needed her with Him. He needed her far more than me. And He has a plan far beyond what I can comprehend.
I remember at the hospital saying it didn't matter what the autopsy results discovered because it wouldn't bring her back. That's why I opted not to get one. But, then the hospital offered to give a free full autopsy, and I agreed. I know God worked that out because He didn't want me to always wonder why she died, what the medical explanation is. Because, you see, God is much greater than "medical explanations." If He wanted her here with me, she would be! I have to keep reminding myself of this.
For a while, I wondered if I would rather have a medical explanation or not. Which would be harder? Would it be harder to know there was something that could have been done to save her, even though it's too late or have no reason at all? At least I know there is nothing wrong with me. At least I know there was nothing I did. And I'm thankful I now know that I need to have c-sections in the future to avoid any complications in childbirth. If Lily had lived, she might be permanently damaged now because she barely fit through my pelvic bone. I'm thankful God made it work out that I had a natural delivery, so I would find this out. I'm thankful that I had that experience with her. I will always treasure the memory of giving birth to her, my baby. It made me feel like a mother. I didn't have much of a chance to be a good mother to her.
I have complete peace in what I now know. She didn't suffer, she didn't flop around in pain. She was alive one moment, and the next she was gone...Still. One minute she was in the earthly realm, the next in the spiritual. He breathed the breath of life into her, and he took it away. He took her away. In the most beautiful way possible. It may sound strange for me to say that, but God has a way of bringing beauty to any and all things. He has a way of healing and restoring even the most broken of hearts.
He wanted to bring me the assurance, the peace, that she's not here because she was never meant to experience the pain and sufferings of this world. It's amazing that God even worked out the details of her name, long before I truly realized the amazing depth behind the meaning. I named her Lily because I she was to be a symbol of renewed purity, redemption. Little did I know how much she would live up to her name. God gave me the name, Lily Katherine. I had no idea that Katherine also means purity. Both her names, both mean purity. And she will forever be pure. God delights in the small things, He places such a sacred essence on things as small as a name. My Lily is with a beautiful God who knows her by name, gave her her name, gave her life, and took her life. I praise Him through this storm.
He took her silently
He took her away
She was far too beautiful to stay
He took her perfect
He took her pure
She knew no sin,
No suffering to endure.
He took her painlessly
In the night
The only thing she knows
Is Heaven's light
He loves her more than I do
And knows what's best
In His arms, is where I'll rest
There is no reason
No one to blame
Still, I miss her just the same.
I'm a mother who held her baby
For just a day
But, in Heaven she waits
That's where she'll stay.
I'll hold her again,
Kiss her, and love her.
Of this I am sure.
Beautiful words Hannah! Remembering Lily with you and praising God in spite of with you. {hugs}
ReplyDeleteBless your heart...your words are always so full of faith and strength. You pack a lot of punch and role modeling in your young years!!!! xoxo
ReplyDeleteBeautiful post! I'm sorry you don't have any answers, but I'm glad you have been able to find some peace in what you do know. I wish your doctor would have given you more time to talk with him. Sending you much love & remembering Lily with you. (((HUGS)))
ReplyDeleteAh, it's an amazing feeling that we share, huh? I can't get over the fact that I had a completely perfect child. She never had the chance to sin...she entered the arms of Jesus completely pure...just like her name. :) your posts are so uplifting. You have courage and wisdom well beyond your years. Thank you so much for sharing with us. It helps doesn't it? I'm praying for you, hon. God bless.
ReplyDeleteBeautifully said! I just wanted you to know that not only did Lily make you feel like a mother, she makes you a mother. Whether she is here in you arms or in the arms of our mighty God, you will always be her mother! You are being a good mother by sharing your story and loving that sweet little girl. Hugs and prayers!
ReplyDeleteyou are a good mother. i can see the tenderness in your pictures.....
ReplyDelete