A lot has happened since I lasted updated my dear Charis family.  My family and I spent two months in the U.S. and are now home in Kenya.  We had a wonderful time in the states, reconnecting with tons of dear friends and family and making tons of wonderful new friends – even meeting some new family!  But by far the most significant thing that happened during our trip was that we discovered we were expecting another precious baby.  However, not long after our discovery, and only one week to the day before we were to fly home to Kenya, our baby left my womb and went straight into the arms of Jesus.

For all our babies I keep a journal in which I write letters to them all throughout their pregnancy.  I want to share our sweet baby’s short little journal with you for a couple reasons.  First of all, I share all my birth stories with my Charis family!  This one is no less meaningful.  Second, I guess I’ll take all the acknowledgement I can get that our sweet baby existed, is so loved, and is so missed.  And lastly because I’ve noticed that whenever I share that we’ve suffered a miscarriage, usually the first question I’m asked is, “How far along were you?”   Perhaps I’m over-sensitive, and this is totally possible.  But I can never keep myself from taking great offense at this question because to me it feels like it is asked in order to gauge how much sympathy the asker should or shouldn’t have.  If it was only a first trimester miscarriage, well that’s not thaaaaaaaat bad right?  I mean, it’s sad, but at least you never had an ultrasound picture on the fridge.  At least you never felt your baby move.  At least you never knew the gender.  At least you never chose a name.  At least you never held the baby in your arms.  At least you didn’t have much time to bond.  At least?????  I am personally of the belief that “it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.”  In other words, I would have given just about anything to have experienced any or all of those things with my baby and the fact that I didn’t get to doesn’t make it easier.  And it doesn’t mean that I didn’t bond with my baby.  Yes our baby only lived a few short weeks, but that was plenty of time for us to pray over our baby, sing to our baby, talk to our baby, think about possible names, buy little clothes and imagine what our baby’s tiny little body would look like all dressed up in them.  It was enough time for our older children to give my belly kisses and tell our baby how much they loved it.  It was enough time for us to dream about who our baby would be and what impact would be made in the world because of this one life.

I know I’m preaching to the choir here, but as women who serve mommies in these kinds of moments, these are good things to keep in mind.  I hope that in sharing our sweet baby’s short little story it will help people understand that when gauging how much sympathy to feel for someone whose baby has died at 6 weeks gestation, it should be enough for someone whose………baby has died, period.  With that in mind, I’m so thankful for this opportunity to share with you who are baby was and is and always will be to our family –

Sweet Baby,

I knew you had come long before there was any kind of evidence.  I finally took a test at the end of May and the positive line was so incredibly faint that a vivid imagination (which I definitely have) could’ve been completely convinced either way.  I didn’t need the test though.  My spirit could sense your spirit within me.  I felt such overwhelming joy and excitement over that nearly nonexistent blue line as my first tangible confirmation of what I already knew.

Still, human nature and intellect demand proof, even of what our spirit is sure of.  So I waited.  I told only Auntie Hannah [my sister], [my aunt], and [a dear older female friend of mine].  I didn’t even tell your daddy until, well, I had that tangible proof.

I laughed when I remembered that when we’d been in Dallas, Texas a couple weeks before, our friend John had prayed and prophesied over us, saying the words, “fertile ground, moist soil,” over and over again.  Later I had joked with him that if I ended up pregnant I’d blame him, and I did. (=  I also remembered that a few weeks ago Auntie Hannah had a dream that I was pregnant and in the dream she was so happy and excited.  I jokingly rebuked her and stored it in the back of my mind.

I remember one day I had this unstoppable craving for coconut milk ice cream with mint and chocolate chips.  I could not be deterred, even by the $5 or something I had to pay for a tiny container of it.  Such cravings are quite unusual for me.  I wonder if you would have liked coconut milk ice cream.

I took the second pregnancy test on June 3rd.  It was undeniably positive.  For some reason I felt shocked.  Mostly I felt like crying, both from happiness and from feeling totally overwhelmed in every sense of the word.  I ran up the stairs, test in hand, to show Auntie Hannah.  She was putting Isaiah [her baby boy] to sleep so I went to the next room down and knocked on your Grammy’s door.  She welcomed me in and still in shock I handed her the test.  She didn’t catch on that easy and I had to open my mouth and explain it to her.  She was so excited!  Auntie Hannah came in and I smiled and told her I definitely needed her in Kenya in February.  Of course she caught on right away and was SO happy!  Grammy handed her the test and she hugged it and said she loved you……which in hind sight was kind of gross.  Hahaha. (=  But I’ll love her forever for that.  Then they asked how Daddy had reacted and I admitted I hadn’t told him yet.  Grammy jumped and said we had to go tell him and was surprised when I told her she could do the honors.  Auntie Hannah and I secretly took a video on her iphone while Grammy ran into the living room jumping up and down like a crazy person shouting at Daddy that we were having another baby.  At first he just thought she was being crazy and silly and he just kept laughing at her.  It took a long time for the reality to sink in.

Your precious siblings were SO excited.  We took a video of us telling them the news too.  They giggled with delight and asked when the baby would come out.  I told them not for a long time still.  They came and laid their sweet little hands on my belly and said, “Hi baby!”  I placed my hands over theirs and we told you we loved you and welcomed you to our family.  It was a very precious moment.

Auntie Hannah and I stayed up into the wee hours of the morning cuddling in bed with your siblings and looking online for cute ways to announce a pregnancy.  That night as I laid in bed, waiting to fall asleep God so clearly told me that He was so happy He had made you and given you to us.  He celebrated your life and that you were ours.

The next morning your big sister woke up and the first thing she did was run into the living room and give my tummy a big kiss and said, “Good morning baby!  I love you!” It was such a sweet moment that brought my heart such joy and comfort.  Auntie Hannah came home from work with a tiny, adorable little sleeper for you.

I knew so strongly in my spirit you were a boy, just like I knew I was carrying you, and just like I had known your sister was a girl.  So we went off that belief and bought you a couple sweet little boy outfits.  We also went shopping for your Grandpa because I had a coffee date with him that week and wanted to give him an “early Father’s Day present“ by telling him you were here.  We picked out a cute little picture frame and I wrote “Coming February 2015” on a little piece of paper inside.  I gave him a grandpa Father’s Day card that was signed “Guya Baby #4”.  When he read the card he cried, and whispered, “Really?”  He was so happy.

I continued to tell family and friends….and strangers about you. (=  Some close friends said they had already guessed cuz they could see a tiny little bump forming where usually I was very skinny.  Several people asked why I wasn’t keeping it a secret until I was further along and there was less risk to miscarry.  I told them because no matter what happened I wanted everyone to know that you were here and you would forever be a part of our family.  Nothing would change that.  I also wanted all the prayer covering and support we could get, both through the pregnancy, and if the worst happened.

Most people we told were happy and excited, but I could tell a few thought we were crazy, if not irresponsible for having “so many children.”  Some were worried about my health, some thought another baby was “too much” for us right now with all we have going on.  I don’t know when we all stopped believing that GOD creates babies and families and He knows what He’s doing and way better than any of us.  Thankfully the same day I took that second pregnancy test my cousin had posted an article called “To the Lady Ashamed of Being Pregnant with Her Fourth,” which is about how our culture more-often-than-not views mothers with four or more children with pity, judgment, or even disgust instead of honor, respect, congratulations, and adulation.  It was a fantastic article and just what I needed to stay encouraged.

That weekend I went to Florida for a Charis workshop.  It was so fun to be immersed in all things pregnancy, birth, and babies.  Kristin Schuchmann did my initial prenatal blood work and gave me a wonderful kit to test not only your blood type [I am RH negative] but to find out your gender a little later on!!!!  I was SOOOO excited. She asked who I planned to have as our midwife and I told her I’d been thinking of asking Lucy since I imagined it was way too good to be true to assume she could come back to Kenya for your birth.  She told me she actually didn’t have any births in February and she could come!  When I told her I would LOVE that she started to cry and said she’d been praying for God to provide a way for her to come back to Kenya in 2015.  I told her I should be the one crying!  She was talking to Lilian and Ray [friends and family of ours in Kenya] and told them she was coming and everyone was so happy and excited.  There were two other pregnant mamas at the workshop and it was so fun to get to be one among them.

I flew back to Seattle in time for the Sunday morning church service in our home church.  I shared in the service about the vision God has given me for midwifery ministry in Kenya and around the world.  At the end I announced to our whole church that we were expecting you.  A woman I don’t even know came up to me after church and told me that God told her He had given you to us as this specific time for a very specific purpose.  I took great comfort in that.

Me sharing in church on Sunday (you can see a tiny little baby bump=)

I don’t remember the exact moment, but sometime that afternoon I started to bleed.  It was an insanely busy day for us so I put on a pad and convinced myself that it was just implantation spotting like I’ve had with my other pregnancies.  We were at exactly 6 weeks to the day.  I was so very weary, but I kept pushing, doing what we needed to do that day.  That day ended very late for us.  Auntie Hannah offered to take me to the ER but Daddy said I should just rest.  I felt relieved and knew he was right.

The next morning the bleeding was very heavy with big clots and contractions.  I knew you were gone.  Auntie Hannah came home from work and I collapsed in her arms and wept for a long time.  I told her how guilty I felt that I hadn’t been as happy and excited as I should have been to have had you with us.  I had doubts and worries and had been carnal and selfish at times.

I talked to Susan Oshel who agreed I should go to the ER, most of all for RhoGAM because of my Rh negative blood type.  Auntie Hannah took me and Grammy met us there later.  Daddy stayed home with your siblings.  I had a hard time keeping it together.  The sorrow came in waves and no matter how I tried or who was around or what was going on, I couldn’t stop myself from sobbing.  I don’t want or need to relive the whole hospital visit here, but I will say that if we had to lose you, I’m thankful it happened there and not in Kenya where it would have been a thousand times more traumatic.  I received wonderful medical care and had the right to make choices concerning what was and was not done to me.  I actually even had a nice, private room which the nurse told me was the only one with its own private bathroom in the ER.  One of the nurses even told me she was sorry for my loss.  She was the only one who said anything like that, but it meant so much to me that she did.  I got the RhoGAM shot, which I would have had great difficulty getting in Kenya, if I could manage it at all.  And most importantly, Auntie Hannah and Grammy were there with me.

I got home and laid in bed weeping for a long time.  Your brother and sister came in the room and I told them you had left us to go to Heaven to be with Jesus and our other baby who was already there.  Your sister crawled in bed with me and cried too.  After a long time she asked me who would breastfeed you in Heaven.  I just cried and cried and couldn’t answer.  But then God reminded me that HE is Jehovah El Shaddai – the all sufficient God, the God of more than enough, the God who supplies ALL our needs, and also translated as “The Big Breasted One.”  I shared this with your brother and sister and found such incredible comfort in that thought, knowing you were all snuggled up so peacefully and safe on God’s big, daddy chest.  I also found comfort in knowing that I could do the same.

Later my cousin Becky arrived from Florida, where she had also been at the Charis workshop, but stayed longer than I could.  She walked in the door and said she was so sorry and gave me a big, long hug.  It was just what I needed.  Lots and lots of big, long hugs.

The next day was your big brother’s 4th birthday so that night Auntie Hannah, Becky and I stayed up into the wee morning hours decorating and preparing for his party. I was so thankful to have a perfect reason not to succumb to the sorrow and self-pity but rather pour myself into your big brother and making him feel so special and loved.  And indeed his birthday was a very sweet day.  He LOVED it and everyone went the extra mile to make it special for him.  It was perfect for all of us to be surrounded by our closest friends and family.  Your great grandpa gave me one of his famous big bear hugs and said, “I want you to know this isn’t your loss only.  It’s ALL of our losses.  The baby was all of ours – a part of our family and we are so very sad.”  That was the best, most loving thing anyone could have ever said to me in that moment.

Me and my son Ezriel on his 4th birthday

The rest of the week is pretty much a blur to me.  It was crazy with packing and preparing to come home to Kenya.  It was mostly INCREDIBLY difficult.  To survive it I had to go into robot mode and will myself to move forward, take a breath, pack, breathe, eat, breathe, do everything on my to do list for the day, breathe, love on my children, breathe, pack, breathe, and so on.  The night before we left I begged God for a miracle, hoping it would be something along the lines of preventing our return to Kenya in some way.  I just wasn’t ready to leave, and every fiber of my flesh was screaming, “DON’T GO!!!!!!”  But it was my flesh and when God answered my prayer for a miracle it wasn’t in answer to the cries of my flesh.  Instead, He changed my heart.  A miracle indeed.  We woke up at 4 am to leave for the airport and I awoke with such incredible peace and strength unlike I’d had for days.  And this time it wasn’t the carnal, imitation, robot strength I’d been plowing through the days with.  It was HIS perfect, supernatural, pure strength.  So even when we were loading the car for the airport and I sliced my finger so wide open with a box cutter that I could hardly stay conscious and which definitely needed stitches because we never did stop the bleeding before I got on the plane – I STILL knew God wanted me back in Kenya.

Our family at the airport heading back to Kenya

The flight home was perfect.  All your siblings were amazing and everything went so smoothly.  We had REALLY bad jet lag however and none of us could manage to stay up past 6 p.m., except your daddy, who seemed practically unaffected!  But that didn’t change the fact that before leaving for the U.S. we’d received an e-mail from our Kenyan land lady who told us she wanted us to vacate her house upon our arrival in Kenya, with no prior warning or explanation.  Such is life in Africa.  So despite the jet lag, the bleeding, and the emotional and physical exhaustion, we had only a few days to pack up the house, find a new one, and move into it.

Our first night and morning back in Kenya all I did was cry and try to figure why I’d come back to Kenya so soon and how I could get back to the U.S. immediately.  I was hiding outside that first morning so no one would see me crying and your daddy accidentally found me.  He sat with me and gently talked with me.  He was so kind and loving and said he didn’t want me to worry about a thing, he would take care of it all.  I could tell he really meant it.  He said he prayed on the plane that God will help him know how to love me through this time and then he prayed with me right there.  It was so powerful and exactly what I needed to gain the strength and courage to carry on.  And so, 3 days later the house was packed (which God somehow enabled me to do entirely on my own with His help) and we were moving into the new house, which has proven to be a most extravagant gift from the Lord.

part of the yard at our new house

It wouldn’t be until many weeks later that I realized how much your daddy had been deeply hurting too, and how alone he felt in processing your death.  He grieved as many men do – internally, quietly, secretly, and alone.  And he thought that was how I needed to grieve too, so he gave me space, which to me felt like he was abandoning me when I needed him as near as possible more than anything.  It made me angry because it looked to me, and to others, like he just wasn’t as affected as I was.  As a result, most of the love and support from others was directed to me and not to him.  I learned much later how much it hurt him that no one reached out to him in his loss, or if they did, it was to help him know how to help me.  I’m so sad that was his experience and that we misunderstood each other so much and additional and unnecessary pain resulted.  I’m thankful for what you taught us about each other through this.

I guess now I’m coming to the end, as much as I’m trying to avoid it.  It makes me so sad that the rest of your journal will remain empty.  But God has been healing my heart just like I knew He would.  When Adriel [our first baby] went home to be with Jesus I literally thought my broken heart would never ever heal.  But over time God so gently and lovingly DID piece it back together, little by little.  Until one day I realized He had done the impossible – a miracle only He could do.  He resurrected my heart and breathed life back into my soul.  Even more amazingly, He restored my joy.  I clung to this when you went home too.  My only hope was in knowing He could do it again and my darkest night would not last forever.  And it’s true.  Every day the sun rises a little more in my heart.

But that nagging little ache and longing for you will be with me until I join you and Adriel in the arms of Jesus.  Just the other day I was in a room with all your siblings and wondering who was missing.  I said, “Where’s……..” and my voice trailed off as I realized all my living children were clearly with me.  That’s never happened to me before that I can remember.  My heart was looking for you, and I know it will always look for you and long for you, until at last I hold you in my arms.  Your brother and sister miss you too.  They often say out of the blue how much they wish you were here or how sad they are you went to Heaven or how much they miss you.  I’m surprised to discover that this brings me great comfort in knowing that someone loves and misses you like I do.  We will always love you and miss you and you will always be a very special part of our family.

I will end with this.  Two days after you went home I read this is Oswald Chamber’s “My Utmost for His Highest” and it ministered greatly to me.

“The questions that matter in life are remarkably few – and they are all answered by the words, ‘Come unto Me.’….If I will come to Jesus I will actually find the song of the Lord begin…..Jesus Christ makes Himself the touchstone.  Watch how He used the word ‘come.’  At the most unexpected moments there is the whisper of the Lord – ‘Come unto Me,’ and you are drawn immediately.  Personal contact with Jesus alters everything.  Be stupid enough to commit yourself to what He says.  The attitude of coming is that the will resolutely lets go of everything and deliberately commits all to Him…..‘And I will give you rest,’ i.e., I will stay you.  Not – I will put you to bed and hold your hand and sing you to sleep; but I will get you out of bed, out of the languor and exhaustion, out of the state of being half dead while you are alive; I will imbue you with the spirit of life, and you will be stayed by the perfection of vital activity.  We get pathetic and talk about ‘suffering the will of the Lord.’ Where is the majestic vitality and might of the Son of God about that?”

I love you Baby. I always will.

Love,
Mommy

Our three living babies, Ezriel,  Amariah and Adali Lynn