Monday, September 20, 2010

Is That Your Final Answer?

Des & I went out to get her a couple of clothes today and we're also looking for Rachel.  Didn't have any luck for Rachel.  I have no idea what to buy.  I can't make my mind up about anything. I would pick something up and carry it around and end up putting it back where it came from.   I've been told to buy preemie sized clothes.  They all seem so small.  I've never had a little baby - none of them even wore newborn stuff.  I just don't really believe she will be that little, unless she comes early.  Des pointed out this cute little outfit and I said "I don't think Rachel will get that big" and she said "well, I think maybe she will" - and then I realized why it's so hard to look at the adorable clothes...

The first few days after we found out Rachel had anencephaly, every time Des would do something girly, I would think about the fact that Rachel might never do that.  She will never bake or sew, she won't swirl around in a dress or try to fix her own hair.  She won't complain about how brothers are pests and then miss them when they're gone. She won't grow so fast that it makes paying $15 for an outfit a waste. (yes, I'm cheap) She may never grow at all, outside my womb - although I pray she will.

I see these things that I would love to buy, with the anticipation of how cute my new baby will look in them, and I can't.  My bank account may prefer that, but it breaks my heart. 

In response to some of the attempts to encourage me, I need to say that I know there are some people who never get to buy girl clothes at all - and I know there are some people who never get to buy baby clothes at all.  I don't ever mean to sound like I am unaware of those trials or that I am not grateful for what I do have, however, it does not take my pain away.  There is no reasoning your pain away when you are planning your baby's arrival and funeral at the same time.  Just because someone else has a "harder" road, does not mean that losing my baby will be easy.  I am not the kind of person who feels better for myself if someone else has it worse off.  And I am not too self-absorbed to know that there are worse things that could happen.  I am very thankful to have this time with my girl and see it as the gift that it truly is...however difficult it may be.

I remember how people tried to comfort me after I lost our 3rd baby... "just be glad it happened now" - "it's better this way cause there must have been something wrong with the baby" -"you'll hold your baby in heaven"...  these words will never leave my mind.  I would nod my head and say "yeah, I know" while inside I was screaming - No, it's not better this way, it hurts no less, it was my baby that I want to hold now, not in heaven!  You cannot reason pain away.  The quick responses may sound logical, and Heaven sounds great, but to a mother here on far away.

So, what the heck am I talking about...oh yeah, clothes.  With all the cute choices...each one being a reminder of my shattered dream... how do I pick?  How much will I need?  What size do I buy?  Does it make sense to spend money on this stuff at all?

I settled on buying a little stuffed lamb they had at the counter...all of the proceeds go to helping kids with leukemia. 

 I thought it was perfect since her name means innocent lamb - but yet another I keep it when she goes or send it with her??  I knew I should have bought two!  Nothing is simple.  Every decision tough.  Finality at it's best - or should I say worst.

When I think of finality at it's best, I think of Jesus on the cross.  After He was bruised and beaten and nailed to the cross, as His blood poured from His body, He said "My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?"  and right before He died, as He took His last breaths, He said "It is finished."  

What did He mean?  He meant that what was taking place was the exact reason we would never be forsaken by God - He meant that He had paid our debt for our sin in full.   It was this moment that will allow Rachel (and all babies & small children) to go to be with our Father when she dies - and our belief in this moment that will allow us to join her there later. 

Contrary to popular belief, heaven is not a wide open gate.  There is one, narrow path leading there.  What do you believe about this moment? 

Is that your final answer?


  1. Dear Stacy,

    My name is Stacy also and we have similar situations. My daughter was born via c-section (my choice) Oct 21, 2009. At 18 wks the Dr. who looked at my ultrasound told me she had Trisomy 18 & would die inside of me or while I was giving birth. Georgiana Sapphire did survive being born, she lived for 11 weeks. Even though I've been to hell and back, I'm glad we fought for her life. She was beautiful baby with a sassy personality, always proving the Doctors and nurses she could do things, especially when they were constantly saying she couldn't. She gained weight like a normal baby once we got her home from the toxic NICU, sadly her heart couldn't keep up with her growing body. The medical field disgusts me, so negative and ice cold in the way they treat human beings.
    I think you should keep the stuffed lamb, I had a purple elephant for Georgiana that stayed with her everyday, and now I have her elephant to hold everyday.
    You can contact me if you'd like -
    God bless you and your family and especially Rachel.


  2. Stacy, you are absolutely right in that the pain is there and real and there is no reasoning it away because someone has it worse than you. The best I can do is know that our lives WILL come with some emotional pain. I will remember how I needed to grieve loss. I will remember that it is a part of life and that you are entitled to it. The ability to feel grief shows that your heart can also feel love, joy. I can pray for you to receive all the comfort you can handle while you grieve. I can also pray that your comfort comes from those around you that love you and from The One that loves you from above and within. Keep your faith! Love, Jeannie


We so appreciate your words of encouragement!
Thank you! ♥ The Aubes