February 10....what a date. No date has been as impactful a day in my life as February 10. Most people know my story, but for those that do not, February 10 was the day 19 years ago that my heart broke in two. It's one of those dates that marks time. Life before Matthew and life after Matthew. Randy and I were babies. We were just 25 years old. We were young and happy and Andrew was 2 years old and we were so excited about our second little boy. We had planned for him. We had celebrated him. We had painted the third bedroom blue, setup the crib, washed the baby clothes, written the thank notes. We were just waiting. Just a couple more weeks and our family of 3 would be a family of 4.
You see my whole life all I wanted was to grow up, become an elementary school teacher, get married, and have a LOT of babies. Like a LOT. At least 5, but 7 might be better. Then one day I realized my baby wasn't kicking anymore. I was on bed rest, so I wasn't too busy to notice. I was focusing very closely, I was waiting for any movement......nothing. I called the doctor. My sister picked me up and took me to check. Randy was at work, and it was last minute. I assured him Stacy could take me. Whew, we heard the heartbeat. It sounded good. I was so relieved. The nurses reassured me that the baby would not move as much, because I was so close to term.......so I went home and waited, and waited, and waited. He still had not moved once that night. Not one time. I'd been pregnant before, I knew babies slowed down close to their due date, but Matthew was not moving.....at all. It was late, but Randy was scheduled to leave on a business trip the next morning. So we called the doctor on call. He told us to meet him at the hospital. We hurriedly packed a bag, deposited Andrew at Nanny's, and we headed to the hospital. They got us right back. They searched for a heartbeat.....they kept searching. They said sometimes heartbeats could be tricky to find. I realize now, the nurses probably knew at this point, because heartbeats are not tricky to find this late in the game. Nonetheless, I was blissfully ignorant. It had literally never crossed my sweet innocent mind that my baby could be dead. I thought maybe he was sick or in distress, but not once had I considered that he was dead. They ordered an ultrasound and we all immediately saw the baby. He was there! I saw him. But the nurse said his heart is not beating. What? The screen wasn't flashing. It was still. Not beating. Impossible. My next thought was HURRY! Get him out! Fix him! Save him! What was wrong with these people? Nobody was trying to save my baby. It was too late. He was already dead. That moment was a defining moment in my life. Innocence was lost. Life would never be the same.
Then came the wailing. I did not even know I could cry so many tears.
Then the questions. I had so many question....
How will he get out of me?
Labor.
How will I go into labor if my baby is dead?
You will still naturally go into labor, or we can induce labor now.
Will it hurt like regular labor?
Yes.
Will it take as long as regular labor?
It may take longer, because it's a little early and your body may need some coaxing.
Can you just knock me out and do a C-section?
No. It can cause problems with future pregnancies.
What happened?
We don't know. We may be able to find out after he is born.
Will it happen to me again?
We don't know it depends on what happened.
Are you going to just throw him away?
No. We will release his body to the funeral home.
Will he be rotted?
No.
Will he look deformed?
No, he will look like a baby.
Can I see him?
Yes
Can I touch him?
Yes
Do I have too?
No, but you should.
Oh. My. Word. Why was this happening?
They induced labor that night. It was very late on a Wednesday. I was admitted to the hospital. Then I labored all day Thursday and Friday and finally gave birth around lunch on Saturday, February 10. I was surrounded by happiness, and newborn baby cries, flowers, and balloons, and joy. I gave birth to death. It was quiet, except for my sobs. He was tiny, and perfect, and beautiful, and real, and dead. We named him Matthew. It means A Gift from God. I held him. Randy held him and our families held him. We wept. We prayed. I kissed him. I bathed him with my tears. I literally wondered if I would survive. The nurses took pictures of him and gave me a box of mementos. Which included a little outfit he had worn and footprints. Then a few hours later, they wheeled me to the door of the hospital I was fat and sore and empty and holding a little box. My arms ached for a baby.
Its all a blur after that. The next day I sat at the circus. We'd bought tickets before all this happened and didn't want Andrew to be sad. So we sat through a circus and I remember thinking; These people have no idea my baby just died. Then a couple days later, I went to my babies funeral. There was this tiny white casket, and I kept thinking this is messed up. Caskets should not be so small. We sang, "It is Well with my Soul" and we went home.
Then began the slow and weird and lonely process of healing from a loss not quiet real enough for people to understand. I mourned deeper than I imagined for a child I never knew. How could I love someone I didn't know, so much?
Time brought answers. Matthew died from a knot in his umbilical cord. The doctors assured us that would never happen again. Time also brought more babies. We had Sophia, and having her was a balm for my wounded soul. God however revealed to me through my pregnancy with Sophia, that what the doctors said did not affect what happened. My pregnancy with Sophia was followed very closely by doctors. And nonetheless Sophia was born with a knot in her umbilical cord, and it was wrapped around her neck twice. God for whatever reason had willed for Matthew to die and for Sophia to live. I'll never understand the entirety of why.....but this I know. Both Matthew's death and Sophia's life were a part of God's plan for our family, and God calls all of his plans good. He measured it out, he weighed the cost, and he allowed for Matthew to die and for Sophia to live. The doctors were wrong. It did happen again and they were also wrong about the cord....the knot did not cause Matthew die....because God could have saved him. God allowed Matthew to die. That is not an easy pill to swallow. It hurts and it contrary to what I would desire.....but the alternate is life is random. God is not in control. Things just happen for no reason....and that I just can't believe.
So I was busy being a mom and very pregnant with twins. I thought I had learned the lessons of Matthew's life. I was enjoying being a mom. About a month before the twins were due, after a busy day of shopping, my feet were as big as tree trunks. Like literally humongous. Because of my pregnancy history and the fact I was having twins the doctors kept very close tabs on me. I checked my blood pressure at home. It was very high. The doctor wanted me to meet him at the hospital and pack a bag. It was late, on February 9. When I arrived they realized the babies needed to be born now. My blood pressure was too high they needed to do an emergency C-section right now. They prepped me for surgery and wheeled me back just after midnight. Jackson and Lydia were born healthy and screaming in the wee hours of February 10. I looked at Randy and said do you know what today is?
Friends, God is in the details. 5 years to the day after giving birth to Matthew in the very same hospital I gave birth to Jackson and Lydia. God took a date that was very difficult and sad and he in his goodness redeemed it. So now February 10 is not just a sad day. It is a day we can celebrate the goodness of God and the precious gifts of Jackson and Lydia. I agree with Job, "God gives, and God takes away. May the name of the Lord be praised."
I don't think I'll every be done learning the lessons of Matthew or motherhood, or heartache. But I can tell you this. Matthew's death was for my good. God has used it to sanctify me over and over and over again. I wish I had gotten to raise all 6 kids. I wish I was making him a cake and he was coming home from college to celebrate with us, but I'm glad God loves me enough to do what is best, even when it doesn't seem best. It's been 19 years. I could have raised that beautiful boy in the time its been since I held him in my arms. I miss him. I wish I had gotten to know him. I'm so thankful I can celebrate Jackson and Lydia this weekend. I'm so glad God has given my hearts desire; a husband, and a job teaching 2nd graders, and LOTS of children. I can't wait to see Matthew again in heaven and hear what it was like to grow up with Jesus. I can say in all honesty that Matthew lived up to his name. He has indeed been a gift from God. Happy Birthday in heaven.
