Earlier this summer, we were surprised and delighted to find out another baby was on the way. Being no spring chicken, I was doubtful that God would bless us again. But He did and we were thrilled, although I did have those moments of “what was I thinking? I am way too old for this!”.
We told the kids earlier than usual because I knew there was a chance that we might not get to meet this sweet baby in this life. I wanted to celebrate her life as long or a short as it would be. I explained to them that were no guarantees. But as the weeks went by I started to feel more confident. I was eyeing cute fall maternity clothes and wondering if it was too soon to buy more swaddle blankets. 🙂
Then two weeks ago, after some fun, active days, I started to show some signs that there could be a problem. On August 18, I went in to a 3D/4D ultrasound place to get a peek and, hopefully, reassured. I even paid up front for a “heartbeat bear” so I could always have her heartbeat with us, just in case. I was ten weeks along and the sweet woman who owns the place started looking with such enthusiasm only to realize that, although I should have been ten weeks, the baby measured eight weeks. She couldn’t find a heartbeat but remained optimistic, saying my dates were probably off and it was just too soon to find the heartbeat with her machine. Of course, I knew better, but agreed with her and said I’d get checked out by my midwife. They gave me a refund for the heartbeat bear. 🙁
Three weeks earlier, a lovely woman, who was really just an acquaintance, died suddenly along with her twenty-week old unborn baby. The whole community was stunned and devastated. You don’t need to know someone well to be deeply grieved by such a tragic loss. I was in church that weekend, feeling the weight of many things and just a deep sadness. I begged God to pour His mercy down on me. In that moment, I felt a calming peace, and then… a name, Mercy. Mercy Faustina. Too soon to know if this baby was a boy or girl, but I felt the name was whispered to me there in that moment. I laughed to myself, thinking Court will never go for it but he couldn’t argue with God. 😉
I walked out of the sonogram place with my head swimming with thoughts. Hoping that she was still alive, angry that God had taken her, resigned to the fact that I was just too old, scolding myself for carrying toddlers and doing too much, scolding myself for being mad at God when I had ten healthy children, and on and on. Should I schedule with the OB? Should I pay for an $800 “medical” ultrasound to see what was happening and why? Or should I just wait?
I didn’t have to wait long, by evening I knew I had lost her and was starting to miscarry. I had dear, dear friends who had walked this road ahead of me to walk beside me through the anxiety and fear and sadness. Even in the hardest times, God continued to shower me with His mercy and grace.
Mercy Faustina has a little place under the maple tree, lovingly prepared by her daddy and sisters. Clare prepared her box and wrote a beautiful poem. We said goodbye and prayed for her intercession, longing for the day we will be united in Heaven.
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