Sunday, April 26, 2009

April 26, 2002

7 years. Seven years have passed since I gave birth to my oldest daughter. As most of you know, she died in my womb and then we birthed her and held her still body. It was heart-wrenching, but beautiful. The peace that I experienced as I held her little body in my arms was incredible. We miss her, but the ache, the pain is gone. We know that one day we will hold her in our arms again and she will be whole. She will be full of life again, and that is the day that we live for.
Last night, I read through my journal that I wrote at that time. It is full of pain, and tears filled my eyes more than once. But it is also filled with hope and it is filled with the evidence of God working in our lives. God promised to carry us and he did. He held us and comforted us and I am so thankful for every step of our journey. I am thankful for the pain that opened our hearts wider to God and to his creation. To beautiful, hurting people all around us.
I think I will share some of those entries with you in the weeks to come. I will also finish the birth story I started to write a couple years ago. Oops!

Kalila Dorothy, April 26, 2002
Her name means Precious - Gift of God. Kalila is an Arabic term of endearment and Dorothy is my middle name and the first name of both of my Grandmothers, I always planned on giving it to my first born daughter, so I did.

My journal post from the day Kalila was born.

To my precious one,
I have loved you since before I knew you existed. You have been growing inside of me for almost five months. I have thought of you each day with love, hope and excitement as well as with fear and anxiety over the future. When I first felt your stirrings inside of me, it was Easter weekend and we were at Nana's. I felt utter joy - you were real! All the following week (your 18th), when I would sit still in the evenings with your aunties (with your cousins in their tummies), I would feel your movements.
I am so thankful for that time.
At night, your Daddy would talk to you and hug you - we were anxiously awaiting the time when you could hear our voices and we were trying to choose your special lullaby.
On the Monday after you turned 18 weeks old, we went to have an ultrasound done. I was so excited! We all were, we would finally get to see you. When the sonographer was done, she went and got Daddy and your brothers. We saw your beautiful, perfect form, lovely legs and toes, arms and hand. You waved to us, we were so thrilled that you were saying hi to us, but I guess it was good bye. (The boys always talk of her waving good bye. to this day.) That is how the boys remember you. I am so thankful that we had that opportunity to see you and that you knew us already. You heard your brothers playing, and all of our family times and knew our love.
I love you.
We watched you gulping and I imagined you nursing at my breast and greedily gulping. When I saw your heart beating, I was ecstatic, 154 beats per minute. I had been longing to hear that sound, but the sound was off, so we never did hear your heart beat.

Later, after she was born:

I felt such peace as I watched you laying in the bassinet, curled up as if asleep. Holding you in my hand, I just love you. I can't imagine having to wait my entire life to hold you whole and full of life. I long to hold you at my breast and watch you eat, stroke your cheek and whisper sweetness in your ear. I love you so much.
Kalila Dorothy, you are the baby girl I have dreamed of since I was a little girl. Your brothers wished and prayed for a little sister.

Thinking of you my precious daughter and of all the other mommy's who are missing their babies.

2 comments:

Henry said...

I am so sorry for your loss. Surely one day you will hold that little girl again. Best of luck to you!

Lori said...

I know I am very late to this...

This was so touching to read. I know how it feels to go back and read those journal entries. Sometimes I almost feel as though I am reading about someone else's life, and yet of course I am not. I feel connected to the emotions but the intensity has dissipated so it feels so much different now.

I think of you and Kalila often.