An Angel in Heaven

Earlier, my husband and I were watching the movie ‘God’s Not Dead.’ The movie is about faith, about believing or not believing in God.

There is one character in the movie that I can totally relate. The professor, Jeffrey. The character lost his mom when he was young, he prayed to God to spare her mom’s life. To let her mom live, but God did not hear his prayers. His mom died, and after that, he hated God.

The reason why I can totally relate with him is because last year, I prayed to God to spare someone as well. I prayed day and night. I prayed fervently and even said I am willing to do everything just for an answered prayer. Yes, I was that desperate. I was that desperate to spare that someone’s life. Someone really close to me. Someone I would do everything for. Someone I know I can’t afford to lose. My daughter.

Just like Professor Jeffrey’s story though, God did not hear my prayers as well.

Have you ever had a dream that was shattered? If you haven’t, then allow me to describe it for you. It is like looking at a perfect, flawless creation, that all of a sudden shatters and breaks into pieces. Tiny, minute particles, that you know you can’t put back together. No matter how hard you try, no matter how hard you pursue, there is no way of putting it back together as it is already shattered beyond repair. That is exactly how I felt June last year when they said my baby is sick. I can’t accept it. I can’t understand. My brain just failed to recognize that my dream, even if it is so close, still can’t be mine.

May 3, 2017. My husband and I found out I was pregnant with our first baby. We were so happy. We were actually beyond happy. We were ecstatic. We immediately called our doctor for a check-up. Everything seemed fine, she said. No chances of our baby getting sick. My husband and I are young and healthy so it is almost sure our baby will be okay. As per procedure though, she still told us to go for an ultrasound so they can check if there is a fluid in the back of my baby’s neck, which would tell if the baby has chromosome defect or none.

On the day of the ultrasound, my husband and I were very excited. We will hear our baby’s heartbeat, we will see her! When my name was called, I almost leaped out of excitement. We first listened to the heartbeat, it was perfect! It was the most beautiful sound I have ever heard. Then time to see her. I swear I could see my baby’s face. I could see how perfect she was. She was waving at us! She was dancing! Like she was telling us she is happy to see us.  But it all faded. My world started spinning… I felt sick… I couldn’t breathe… the last thing I remember hearing was…’Your baby is sick…’

I didn’t know what to say to the nurse. I couldn’t understand anything that she was saying. Luckily my husband was there with me. Apparently, the doctors wanted to do another test to be sure whether my baby is indeed sick or not. I need another blood test and CVS. They said CVS will hurt and they can’t use anesthesia. I said yes instantly. I will do everything for my baby. Anything, everything.

The moment my husband and I got home, I broke down to tears. I could feel my heart breaking a million times over and over again. I have never felt this pain before. I have never felt this hopeless. Then, I prayed. I prayed like I have never prayed my entire life. I asked God one thing, to spare my baby’s life. I asked God, to heal my baby. I asked God to let me hold my baby.

Every day, every moment after that day, I just had that one prayer.

Then came the day for my CVS. The doctors started the orientation and told me to prepare for the pain. They will insert a long needle on my tummy without anesthesia and practically stab me a hundred time to get a sample of my placenta so they can check it. I needed strength before the pain so I prayed and then asked them if I can listen to my baby’s heartbeat again. There is it goes again, that beautiful melody. And just like that, I was ready to have the CVS.

The doctor said I should be still, even if it hurts, I can’t move because one move might hurt the baby. She told me to look away, but I didn’t want to. I watched her insert what seemed like a 12 inches long needle and stab me over and over again. It was no doubt painful, but my attention was focused on the monitor. I have to make sure she doesn’t hurt my baby. My baby should never be hurt. After minutes more of continuous stabbing, she said it’s done. My doctor said, I did really well. She had never had a patient like me who did not even flinch. In my mind, I wanted to tell her to just continue stabbing me if it’ll heal my baby, even if she skin me alive, I will not cry. Yes, I was that desperate to save my baby.

I was at the office when I got a call 2 weeks after the tests. It was from the hospital. I couldn’t remember much but the call ended with the nurse saying, ‘It’s trisomy 18, which means she is not compatible with life. I’m sorry.’

I went outside the office. I walked a few meters away from the building until I reached the pathway. I sat on the grass, under the tree and cried hard, so hard that I could feel my chest bursting. How can this happen to me? Why is this happening to me? Why my baby? WHY?

I talked to my little one, all attention focused on my tummy. I told her, ‘I love you. I love you. I love you. You know I did everything I could baby, You know how much I love you. You know I would do everything for you. I fought as hard as I can, but I lost baby. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’

 

I felt like a wreck. I do not know what to do. I am so lost. And so I prayed, I asked God why didn’t He listen to me. Why didn’t He answer my prayers? I have always been faithful, I always go to the church, I serve in the church, I always share my blessings. One favor, one prayer. That is all I asked of Him but He did not listen. I felt like He abandoned me.

I would be a hypocrite if I say I have accepted what God planned for my baby and I. But that is not true, not at all. That night I talked to my husband, I asked him if God hates me. Why didn’t he listen to my prayer? Why is he punishing me? My husband told me he has no answers as well. He just know that this is just a trial. So we prayed together, we prayed our longest and most painful prayer. We asked for a miracle. But in the end, we just said we will surrender to him and let His will be done.

We know that there is another test we have to overcome together. We have to make a choice for our little one, and we did. I know that choice is something I will never forgive myself for. But I have to do it. I have to do it for my little one. And I did. You have no idea how many times I asked God to remove the cup from me. For Him to just do it, instead of I giving the consent. Even up to the very last minute, I still prayed, but the answer was no.

August 3, 2017, my angel went to heaven.

My baby is gone. And as I held her tiny body in my arms, my husband and I offered a prayer to God. Up until now, we still pray the same. Send our love to heaven.

I kissed my baby gently and whispered I love you, and then she took her last breath.

Silence. Numbing silence.

You see, I never had the courage to tell this to a lot of people. Only selected few knew about my pregnancy. I couldn’t bear to tell this story, not because it is horrible. But because it was beautiful, it’s just that it ended all too soon.

Yes, it easy to hate God if something didn’t happen as we planned, but I know my baby would like us to keep the faith. And despite it ending too soon, we are still thankful we saw our baby, our angel, Samantha Nicole.

After reading this, please don’t say condolence. Instead, say congratulations. Congratulations because my husband and I now have an angel in heaven.

PS

Sorry for all of the typos. I am really emotional right now. Please continue praying for us. 🙂

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