This post was originally posted on an old blog I once had. It details our story of the stillbirth of our son, Noah. I wrote this post 12 days after Noah was stillborn. It’s raw and emotional. But reading back on it now reminds me just how strong I am. Even though I was experiencing the worst thing in my life, I could see the bigger picture. I can say that although I saw the bigger picture, the grief was still immense. The heartache was still so deep. But as I wrote in this post, more probably as a reminder for me during that time, God is faithful and good.
I was 23 when I stillbirthed Noah. Never did I think this would be part of my story. When something like this happens, it’s like your world stops. But then you realize that the world hasn’t stopped, it just feels like that for you. Life goes on, and people continue forward. If I were to choose to stay in the grief of July 1, 2016, I would be left behind in that grief, stuck in an unhealthy cycle that would keep me from living life to the full. I’m thankful for all the family and friends along the way who have reached out, shown support, and have been there for us. I never expect anything on July 1st, but when someone does reach out, it means so much. Although life has moved on, they still acknowledge a massive part of our story, telling us they remember, we aren’t alone. Even when no one reaches out on the day, it doesn’t matter, because the support that has been there consistently through the years is in our hearts and minds.
Original Post Written July 13, 2016
People say, “Never take family for granted.” Whenever someone loses a loved one, they say, “Hug your loved ones tight.” We hear those phrases regularly, but we pass them over without a second thought until we lose someone so near and dear to us.
On Thursday, June 30th, 2016, Jordan and I walked into our 28-week appointment excited to hear our sweet baby boy’s heartbeat. They asked me the typical questions, but when asked about his movement, I responded that he didn’t kick much anymore, but I could feel him stretching. I honestly had no concerns.
My OB came in, caught up with what the last four weeks looked like, and then got out the Doppler. She searched for a heartbeat but could only find mine. When she left the room to get the ultrasound machine, all Jordan and I could say was “Jesus, please let Faith (my OB) find the heartbeat. Please give our baby a heartbeat.” We were desperately crying out to God.
After what seemed like hours, we saw our baby boy on the monitor- no movement. His back was to us and all I could say was “There’s no heartbeat.” in a pissed off, “why God?!” attitude. She got the ultrasound technician, but we knew.
We cried.
We asked God, “Why?”.
I wondered, “Did I do anything wrong?”
I asked fearfully, “What do we have to do next?”
Deliver our baby.
Throughout the pregnancy, I was always scared to deliver the baby; even before I was pregnant, I was afraid. I didn’t know what to expect, and there are so many different birthing stories, I didn’t know what to think.
After getting checked into the hospital and getting to our (huge) room, they started my IV and blood work on me. All the while, I was in shock and couldn’t feel anything. Leslie, my nurse, was gracious, kind, encouraging, and emotional with Jordan and me, which was a gift from God. I knew what I had to do, but did not want to do it. They induced me, and within 30 minutes, I was already feeling contractions. I didn’t want to do my epidural right away because I hadn’t eaten and needed to be able to have some food to give me strength. After three rounds of some amazing medicine to take the edge off, I was more than ready for that epidural (how do women do this naturally?!) One little “ow” came out of my mouth, and I was numb. Thank you, Lord, for modern medicine.
I slept.
I drank water.
I ate ice cubes.
We prayed.
We cried.
We laughed.
My hand was always being held.
Pressure.
The feeling that women describe, but you don’t know it until you experience it. He was coming, and it wasn’t going to be long.
This was the moment I was most scared for—the moment I dreaded. I didn’t want to have a stillborn baby. I wanted my baby to cry. I wanted my baby to be alive.
Throughout the whole birthing process, I was on my side and in Jordan’s hands, crying. I didn’t want what was happening, but I knew I had to deliver this precious son. I didn’t watch anything because I didn’t want to see or feel. It’s crazy what people will do to TRY to avoid something. My OB and nurse Kelly were amazing. They let me decide when baby boy Carter came. I could’ve pushed, but again, I didn’t want to feel, I didn’t want to remember giving birth to a baby that wasn’t going to cry, and on my chest at the end of it all.
I’m stubborn (is that a Dutch trait?!), but I pushed twice—not because I needed to, but because God gave me the strength to do it.
Besides a miracle, one of the biggest things we prayed for was for me not to have a DNC. God’s grace was evident, and I did not have to have a DNC. The birthing process went smoothly, and the nurses said I did well and everything I did was like I had done it before – another thing I was nervous about going into giving birth. I didn’t feel prepared. I hadn’t learned a single thing about breathing or pushing. Thankfully, Noah was small, so I didn’t have to do much.
On July 1, 2016, Noah Carter was born. We chose the name “Noah” because it means rest and comfort. Jordan and I thought that it fit perfectly, and the meaning meant a lot because Noah was comforting to hold, and we know that God is always reassuring us and giving us the rest we need, which in turn provides us with the strength to live another day. Noah was two pounds, 10 ounces, and 14 inches long. Yes, he got my side in the height department. He had ten little fingers and ten little toes. His face was his daddy’s – a replica. He was so cute, and the minute I looked at him, I didn’t want to say goodbye. Every moment I spent with him was special and so precious. Holding him close to me and lying with him. I’ll never forget it.
As two weeks from this day come upon us, I can say confidently that God is with me. God is with Jordan. God has given us the strength to endure this hardship. He has been faithful. He has provided joy. How does a couple even think about laughing while in a hospital room after losing their firstborn son? It is because we have the joy of the Lord in our souls. In Nehemiah, it says, “…the joy of the Lord is our strength.” We are holding on to that promise. We have also learned a lot in these two weeks, and I know we will continue to learn a lot.
Through this hardship, I believe God will use it for his glory. Even though I might not see that now, I believe something good will come from this. I believe and have noticed that he is faithful. He always has been, and he always will be. I believe that he is never going to leave my side. I think without a shadow of a doubt that I will see Noah again someday. But right now, as I live on this earth, and he is with Jesus, I will hold onto a vision God gave me. This vision was of Noah, running and jumping and dancing. As I looked at him, he looked at me and said, “I’m okay, Mom!” When I heard him say that, I thought, “Of course he’s okay. I don’t need to worry.” Just another comfort God gave me to hold onto.
God’s love and faithfulness have never been more apparent than in that vision.
And that, that is what is helping mend my broken heart.
Reflecting on This Post Years Later
After reading through this, I realized that when we lost Noah, I immediately blamed God for this suffering. As I’ve grown in my faith and walk with Jesus, I have learned that God does not cause suffering. It’s the broken world that we live in, where suffering happens. Just because I believe and walk with Jesus doesn’t mean I won’t suffer. It also doesn’t mean I am his favorite. Don’t get me wrong, Jesus loves me more than anyone could ever love me, but that’s the same for everyone. God doesn’t play favorites, but each of us is his favorite. God’s plan for us is always good. No matter what the world brings, nothing can separate us from God’s love and goodness.
