Quick Canaan update: he is a heart warrior if we’ve ever seen one! He has bounced back beautifully is doing great!
Note: this may offend, bring up bottled emotions, or may not make sense why I am talking so frankly and publicly. If you think you will fall into those categories, will judge or criticize, STOP READING NOW. This post is not for you, I don’t even know that’s its for me.
It has been 4 years today since you came and went. Daddy and I had been told that getting pregnant would never be possible so you were extra special. You were our miracle baby. We love you so much.
It all started when we were living way, way up north in Canada. One day Momma started feeling weird, and loopy. Forgetful and crazy tired. Daddy thought I was losing my mind. I waited about a week and it didn’t go away so I decided to take a pregnancy test. Guess what? It was positive! We couldn’t believe it! In fact, we really truly didn’t believe it so Daddy bought like 25 tests and spent all of our money just to see it say “yes” over and over again. We were overwhelmingly excited. Overjoyed, delighted. I can’t even use words to tell you how we felt. We were just so excited about you. Then we started having some trouble with the doctors. They couldn’t figure how old you were (your gestational age), even though we had an idea. There also weren’t enough lady doctors to go around for the area and we couldn’t get my doctor to believe that I have the condition that I have known about since I was a teenager. We found out later that she didn’t even read my medical history until it was too late. I will always wonder if there was something that could have been done. So we went on for several weeks and everything was going great. Until it wasn’t. It started with some spotting, which scared us to death. We went to the emergency room down in the city which was 8 hours away and where we happened to be that weekend for our anniversary. They didn’t see us until the middle of the night but the doctor said that everything was fine and this sometimes happened. We still didn’t get to see an ultrasound, they take a long time up where we lived, but he confirmed that I was in the 2nd trimester. We thought that meant we were out of the danger zone. But he did say that I needed to start bed rest. So we drove home and bed rest began. It took a few weeks but everything seemed to be okay and we were able to schedule an ultrasound. I was so excited that day, to see you and hear your heart beat. I felt like we had known you the whole time but that day, you were going to meet us too. Everyone in our life was so excited about you, our miracle. Daddy and I had even already chosen your name, even though we didn’t know for sure that you were a boy, at that point, we really felt like you were.
Then the bad news came. I could tell that something was wrong because the ultrasound tech wouldn’t let me see the screen and didn’t let me hear your heartbeat. So we went home and tried not to worry. A couple days later we went back to the doctor to hear about you and see your pictures. Daddy and I were nervous but still so overjoyed with you that we were goofing off in the doctors office. When she came it was like all the air left the room. I knew immediately that something was wrong. She said, I hate to tell you this but we weren’t able to find a heartbeat. She also confirmed that we were in the 2nd trimester and that she expected me to miscarry within a few days. Or I could undergo a D&C. I chose not to as I believed that perhaps you still had a chance. We went home and cried and prayed and cried and prayed. We reached out to our family and close friends who were so far away, about 2600 miles. We told them to pray and received a lot of encouragement and great stories about how this sometimes happens. Then we waited.
The day that you left I had been in labor for the better part of the day. I don’t know if I was in denial or just naive, but I now know that it was labor. That night I had went to sleep knowing something was wrong. I woke up in the middle of night and went to the living room. I was looking out the window watching it snow and I started to pray. I prayed for you. I prayed that God would heal you. I prayed that He would heal me. I cried out to Him like I never have in my whole life. I sat this way for hours. And then you came.
Warning: this may be graphic and is information that I have only shared with a handful of very close people. I think it’s time to say it. Bear with me. Or don’t. It’s up to you.
I went to the bathroom in our tiny apartment and knew that something terrible was happening. I yelled for your daddy and he came in there with me. By this time there was blood getting all over the place. I felt you leaving me. I cried, I screamed. I was begging God to stop this from happening. And then it was over. You were gone. We were able to hold you. To you see your tiny baby shape. You still kinda looked like an alien but you were ours. You had little fingers and toes and an umbilical cord. You even had little finger nails. Daddy and I both took turns holding you and looking at you. I talked to you a little. We then found a little tupperware container and gingerly put you in. I now find this detail really funny and every time I look at and hold that size container, I think of you. We then went to the E.R. We gave you to them in your little box. I thought they would give you back but they never did. If I had know, I would have tried to take a minute, to say goodbye. They took you and were able to measure you and run tests. They were able to tell us that you were at least 15 weeks, and that they thought I was 18 weeks. That you had most likely stopped growing at 15. They were able to tell us that you were a boy. But they weren’t able to tell us exactly what had happened. They just kept saying spontaneous abortion. Spontaneous abortion?! As if we didn’t want you, as if my body didn’t want you, as if they world didn’t want you. But you were wanted. So very much sweet boy, you were wanted.
I then had to be examined. It was so painful and scary. Daddy said I was screaming and crying and yelling that whole time and that I just kept saying no over and over again. I felt so alone. Part of me was gone. Part of me died. It was you.
So here we are with your baby brother Canaan. He is amazing Cash. You would have loved him so much. We think about you all the time. We wish you were here. You would be 3 1/2. You would probably have freckles and brown eyes. I secretly think you would have red hair. You would be stubborn and sweet and have a bad temper but be quick to laugh. Canaan would love you and would want to follow you around and try to pull your hair. We miss you. We love you. We wish you were here too. Please take care of your other sibling in heaven. Take care of all the babies, in fact!
Cash, we will never be the same because of you. It has taken me 3 out of the 4 years since you left to get back to who I used to be. And honestly even now, I’m still not the same. But, I am finding joy again. I’m searching for it and fighting for it. But part of me will always be gone, that part that made up you. You came and went and today we remember you. Today is your day Cash. The day you entered the world and left it. I am going to make sure that we remember, that we make the world a better place because of you. And that more than anything else, we fight for joy. The Lord is faithful and gives good gifts. He gives and takes away but is always faithful to bring joy with the morning.
Today is your day. Happy 4 years.
Love you so much my sweet angel,