Remembering Tirzah...
When my heart is troubled and I am weighed down,
Then I like to think of how this lonesome world would be
If I could see your face, or hold you in my arms
If you were mine, if you were mine.
If you had a bad dream I would jump inside it,
And I would fight for you with all the strength that I could find.
I would lead you home by your tiny hand
If you were mine, if you were mine.
I would sing of love on the blackest night.
I would sing of God, and how His goodness fills our lives.
I would sing to you, ‘til the morning light
If you were mine, if you were mine.
(Fernando Ortega)
It's hard to believe that it was last Labor Day that Tirzah went to heaven...
We'd had a busy weekend, so by Labor Day, the whole family was ready for a day at home. We got up late and I made breakfast. For some reason, Loren and I started fighting during breakfast, so afterward we went out on the deck and talked. I began to cry and said that I was SO tired of being pregnant and I needed him to be home more. We didn't really settle anything, but sometime during the conversation I got to thinking that I hadn't felt Tirzah move around before I fell asleep the night before, which was usually her most active time. I decided to go lay down and do a kick count just to be sure everything was fine.
After about a half hour, she still had not moved. Loren brought me chocolate ice cream which I ate laying down. STILL nothing. We talked some more up in our room and I told him how scared I was that something was wrong (Jaime was born due to fetal distress at 29 weeks). He reassured me and we prayed together, and I went back to laying there. He decided to take the kids swimming, so they went across the street to a neighbor's house. I finally called the doctor, and they told me to lay there for another hour and call again. After 45 minutes, I gave up and had a shower. I called again and they told me to come in, just to be safe. I called my mom, who told me she'd come with me, just to keep me company. At that point I didn't really think anything was wrong, I was just annoyed I had to drive across town on Loren's day off just to be told everything was fine.
I went across the street and told him I was leaving and he offered to go with me. I told him no, to just stay with the kids and I'd be back soon. Like I said, neither of us really believed anything could be wrong. I mean, we'd lost three babies in the first trimester. I was "out of the danger zone."
I got to the hospital, only to discover someone from our church had just had a baby. There were several people from the church there. They asked me why I was there, and I just answered, "Oh, just for a non-stress test" and left it at that. I was escorted into a room, changed into a gown, and laid on the bed. My nurse (a WONDERFUL woman) came in and said they'd just start by listening with a doppler. She listened. And listened. After a few minutes she had one hand on my wrist and one on the doppler, my heart was pounding so hard, trying to discern if it was me or the baby.
Finally, she said that she was having trouble finding the heartbeat and she was bringing the doctor in. He came in with a portable ultrasound, and it only took a minute to determine. There was no heartbeat.
I started crying, and called Loren. He said he'd find someone to watch the kids and be there as soon as possible. I was in shock. I remember the nurse clearing out the hallway of everyone we knew, and had a security guard out there to be sure it stayed clear! She moved me to the last room at the end of the hall, and got me settled. Another nurse came in and started all the admission paperwork, asking me the same questions over and over. She was a drill sergeant. I alteranted between crying my eyes out and laughing my head off (my coping mechanism...sarcasm...). About the time that was done Loren arrived. My mom stepped out of the room, and he walked over the the bed, wrapped his arms around me, and we just bawled. The doctor came back in to discuss our options. After a lot of talking, we decided to induce. I couldn't bear going home still pregnant. They started an IV, and also started me on cervix ripeners. Once again, we were alternately laughing and crying. The lab tech came in to draw my blood and warned me it would hurt, as they were drawing 10 tubes to test for various conditions that would explain the loss. We just laughed. A needle stick was nothing compared to what we were going through. Everyone seemed to understand, though. Our nurse took it in stride, stroking my arm or bantering back, depending on the minute.
As it got later into the night, my mom went home, we turned out all the lights, and Loren laid down next to me on the hospital bed. We both alternated between sleeping, crying, and praying for the next nine and a half hours. Our nurse would come in and gently check on us, but we were pretty much left alone to grieve.
At three thirty, I woke up. I could feel that it was time. Loren called the nurse, and before the doctor could arrive our little girl was born. We decided not to hold her and spend time with her until I was all done (I bleed a LOT with deliveries) so she was taken away, and I finished the childbirth process. About an hour later, she was brought to us.
She had a shock of black hair, rosy lips, and tiny features. Amazing that at 17 weeks early she was still so completely developed, with impossibly small fingers and toes, a tiny button nose, and long arms and legs. Our nurse had dressed her in a little pink and white gown, crocheted hat, and little blankets. We held her, whispered to her, marveled at how little and beautiful she was. Eventually, we let her go.
Psa. 139:7 Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?
Psa. 139:8 If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
Psa. 139:9 If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea,
Psa. 139:10 even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.
Psa. 139:11 If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,”
Psa. 139:12 even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.
Psa. 139:13 For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
Psa. 139:14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.
Psa. 139:15 My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,
Psa. 139:16 your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.
How amazing, our little girl would be one year old this week. Happy birthday, Tirzah Irene!
Then I like to think of how this lonesome world would be
If I could see your face, or hold you in my arms
If you were mine, if you were mine.
If you had a bad dream I would jump inside it,
And I would fight for you with all the strength that I could find.
I would lead you home by your tiny hand
If you were mine, if you were mine.
I would sing of love on the blackest night.
I would sing of God, and how His goodness fills our lives.
I would sing to you, ‘til the morning light
If you were mine, if you were mine.
(Fernando Ortega)
It's hard to believe that it was last Labor Day that Tirzah went to heaven...
We'd had a busy weekend, so by Labor Day, the whole family was ready for a day at home. We got up late and I made breakfast. For some reason, Loren and I started fighting during breakfast, so afterward we went out on the deck and talked. I began to cry and said that I was SO tired of being pregnant and I needed him to be home more. We didn't really settle anything, but sometime during the conversation I got to thinking that I hadn't felt Tirzah move around before I fell asleep the night before, which was usually her most active time. I decided to go lay down and do a kick count just to be sure everything was fine.
After about a half hour, she still had not moved. Loren brought me chocolate ice cream which I ate laying down. STILL nothing. We talked some more up in our room and I told him how scared I was that something was wrong (Jaime was born due to fetal distress at 29 weeks). He reassured me and we prayed together, and I went back to laying there. He decided to take the kids swimming, so they went across the street to a neighbor's house. I finally called the doctor, and they told me to lay there for another hour and call again. After 45 minutes, I gave up and had a shower. I called again and they told me to come in, just to be safe. I called my mom, who told me she'd come with me, just to keep me company. At that point I didn't really think anything was wrong, I was just annoyed I had to drive across town on Loren's day off just to be told everything was fine.
I went across the street and told him I was leaving and he offered to go with me. I told him no, to just stay with the kids and I'd be back soon. Like I said, neither of us really believed anything could be wrong. I mean, we'd lost three babies in the first trimester. I was "out of the danger zone."
I got to the hospital, only to discover someone from our church had just had a baby. There were several people from the church there. They asked me why I was there, and I just answered, "Oh, just for a non-stress test" and left it at that. I was escorted into a room, changed into a gown, and laid on the bed. My nurse (a WONDERFUL woman) came in and said they'd just start by listening with a doppler. She listened. And listened. After a few minutes she had one hand on my wrist and one on the doppler, my heart was pounding so hard, trying to discern if it was me or the baby.
Finally, she said that she was having trouble finding the heartbeat and she was bringing the doctor in. He came in with a portable ultrasound, and it only took a minute to determine. There was no heartbeat.
I started crying, and called Loren. He said he'd find someone to watch the kids and be there as soon as possible. I was in shock. I remember the nurse clearing out the hallway of everyone we knew, and had a security guard out there to be sure it stayed clear! She moved me to the last room at the end of the hall, and got me settled. Another nurse came in and started all the admission paperwork, asking me the same questions over and over. She was a drill sergeant. I alteranted between crying my eyes out and laughing my head off (my coping mechanism...sarcasm...). About the time that was done Loren arrived. My mom stepped out of the room, and he walked over the the bed, wrapped his arms around me, and we just bawled. The doctor came back in to discuss our options. After a lot of talking, we decided to induce. I couldn't bear going home still pregnant. They started an IV, and also started me on cervix ripeners. Once again, we were alternately laughing and crying. The lab tech came in to draw my blood and warned me it would hurt, as they were drawing 10 tubes to test for various conditions that would explain the loss. We just laughed. A needle stick was nothing compared to what we were going through. Everyone seemed to understand, though. Our nurse took it in stride, stroking my arm or bantering back, depending on the minute.
As it got later into the night, my mom went home, we turned out all the lights, and Loren laid down next to me on the hospital bed. We both alternated between sleeping, crying, and praying for the next nine and a half hours. Our nurse would come in and gently check on us, but we were pretty much left alone to grieve.
At three thirty, I woke up. I could feel that it was time. Loren called the nurse, and before the doctor could arrive our little girl was born. We decided not to hold her and spend time with her until I was all done (I bleed a LOT with deliveries) so she was taken away, and I finished the childbirth process. About an hour later, she was brought to us.
She had a shock of black hair, rosy lips, and tiny features. Amazing that at 17 weeks early she was still so completely developed, with impossibly small fingers and toes, a tiny button nose, and long arms and legs. Our nurse had dressed her in a little pink and white gown, crocheted hat, and little blankets. We held her, whispered to her, marveled at how little and beautiful she was. Eventually, we let her go.
Psa. 139:7 Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?
Psa. 139:8 If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
Psa. 139:9 If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea,
Psa. 139:10 even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.
Psa. 139:11 If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,”
Psa. 139:12 even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.
Psa. 139:13 For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
Psa. 139:14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.
Psa. 139:15 My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,
Psa. 139:16 your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.
How amazing, our little girl would be one year old this week. Happy birthday, Tirzah Irene!
posted by The Bakers at 1:18 PM
1 Comments:
Dear brother and sister,
We love you and as I read this, my heart, well it breaks and rejoices...It breaks for selfish reasons, but it rejoices that our Great LORD hand picked our precious children to go directly to Him...bypassing the cruelty of this world, opening there eyes for the first time seeing Jesus...and they are there TOGETHER in the presence of our Savior...praising Him...So many people say "I am sorry for your loss", but really it isn't a loss...!!!"To live is Christ and to die is gain" Php 1:21 You are in our prayers sweet friends!!! JMG
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