Birth Story, Part 3

It was during this hard time in the pregnancy that we decided to name the twins. The active dancer we called Micah, and our little wallflower we named Micaiah. Both names mean “Who is like God?” Even though we had opted for a surgical procedure to try to save the twins’ lives, we knew that their futures really were in Someone’s hands Who has no equal.
I was to remain on bedrest for at least two weeks, then go back to OSU for a checkup. Midway through the first week, however, I had a routine OB visit already scheduled, and was told to go ahead with it. It was there that we had an ultrasound and discovered that Micaiah didn’t make it. It was a real shock to me; I had been praying for them so hard and really believed that the LORD was going to restore Micaiah’s health. This was a milestone for me- a time I will always look back upon with joy, beyond the obvious sadness of the moment. Here was a time I had so much faith, more faith than usual, in a certain outcome, and was so sure of that outcome that I was in total disbelief at the different outcome. I’m so glad the LORD put me in a situation where, for the most part, I think I responded correctly, in faith. But, oh, it was so hard laying there, watching the doctor hover over her still body, looking for that flutter that would indicate a heartbeat. It seemed to take hours. Then, the doctor called in the other OB, to verify, and time continued to crawl.
I’m not usually on this end of sorrow. The two doctors shared their condolences, the first of many such sentiments I would hear over the next few months. I almost feel worse for the person who has to say they are sorry to hear my news, than I feel for myself, because I know what it is like to be in their shoes, trying to think of something to say. It’s a necessary part of life, to experience both sides of loss.
The pregnancy from here progressed by the book, since there no longer were two babies needing nourishment. I loved seeing Micah grow bigger at each scan, but it was painful to see how much bigger than Micaiah she would grow. I hoped that Micaiah’s body wouldn’t be damaged by Micah’s increasing size; I wanted to see her when she was delivered, intact. Maybe we could even get footprints. The doctors all warned me not to expect anything of the sort, that since she would be in there a while after she died, that many changes could take place. But all along during ultrasounds, I could recognize her, still in that little hammock taking a long nap. Even though it would be hard, I looked forward to the day I would see both of my girls.
We decided to have Micaiah’s body cremated, and to bury her on our property. In my last month of pregnancy, I contacted a local funeral home to ask about cost and what to expect as far as procedure. To my surprise, they didn’t charge at all for the cremation, considering it a service they do for the community. They were very kind in explaining how things would go in the hospital and after my release. I also spoke with the head nurse of labor and delivery in that last month, to make sure they were aware of my circumstances before I got there. My doctors had said that Micaiah was technically considered a miscarriage, since she died so young. I worried then that her body might be misplaced or discarded against my wishes in the aftermath of delivery, and wanted to be certain that wouldn’t happen to her. The head nurse assured me that every deceased baby, no matter the gestation, in this kind of situation, would be handled respectfully and according to my plans for their care.
That was such a relief to me, and I looked forward to D-day even more, knowing that I had good people looking out for me at the hospital and funeral home.

One Reply to “Birth Story, Part 3”

  1. Thank you for writing this, and the reminder of your joy in the Lord even in the midst of sadness. (((HUGS))))

Comments are closed.