About El Momma

Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Such a beautiful name...

Warning. This post discusses loss. 


We had a list of possible names for our baby daughter. Fifty or more different combinations. We knew we wanted to give her a name that paid homage to both our mothers'.

I remember a day a couple of months ago. My husband texted me one name idea. I replied back with my very large list (which I started working on right after finding out we were pregnant). The list was full of girl names. So many names. All of which connected with our mothers. He replied to my text with:
"Goodness me. This is going to be more difficult that I initially thought."

We thought we had time to know for sure. The kids would often tell us of their name ideas.

Here are just a few:
Caroline
Evelyn
Oreo

We told them, "God knows her name and when we need to know we will know."

On August 15th, 2017 we knew. I remember laying there in the hospital bed, in labor with our daughter and I just knew.

Mary-Linda Elizabeth

Just say it and it sounds so beautiful. So meant to be. Our precious baby.

We named her "Mary" for my husband's mother. Mary means "wished-for child." She is our wished-for child in every way.

We named her "Linda" for my mother. Linda means "beautiful." She is beautiful and perfect in every way.

We named her "Elizabeth" because Elizabeth means oath or promise of God. We hold tight to God's promises. Especially that He never leaves us or forsakes us. Knowing I was giving birth to our daughter who was already in heaven was only something I could go through knowing I was not going through it alone. The Lord was with us. His presence was felt and known in so many ways in that hospital bed.

I often think back to that experience- the worst of my life. But, I can't help but remember so much peace in the deep heartache and suffering. That's only possible through God. There really is no other explanation.

We love you forever, our baby daughter in heaven, Mary-Linda Elizabeth. 

Friday, September 1, 2017

If Grief comes in Stages...I am still very near the beginning

Warning. This post discusses loss. 

Today has been all about guilt and regret.

Over the last couple of days, I have begun to have memories. Memories of times just a few short weeks ago when I was worried. I remember wondering if my baby's heart rate had slowed. Was it too slow? Was something wrong? I googled "Normal fetal heart rate" and found that my daughter's heart rate was in the normal range for her gestational age. But, I remember worrying. I let it go, but I worried. When was this?

I took the time to look at my search history today. I guess so I could regret even more. I found that I did the search twice. I searched on Tuesday, August 8th...when my daughter was still developing and alive. And, I searched again on Monday, August 14th...when my daughter's heart had already stopped beating and I didn't know it.

I regret googling on Tuesday, August 8th and stopping there.

I regret not calling my doctor and going in for a checkup that week. I don't know if they would have caught what was happening with my daughter then, but I could have given her a chance. I am not a big worrier. I walk around with a lot of "peace that passes all understanding." I thank God for that. But, right now, I can't shake this regret. Not now. I wish I would have given my baby girl every opportunity to live. I can't tell you that the outcome would have been different.

Chances are, I would find something else to regret, if I would have gone in to the doctor's office that week.

But, for now. I regret.

I regret that my baby is in heaven and not growing inside her mommy.

I regret that I am sitting in the rocker that we were given 13 years ago to rock all of our babies.

I regret that I didn't sit down in this rocker once while my Mary-Linda was still with me.

I regret that I didn't take my children in to see the 13 week ultrasound when Mary-Linda was dancing.

I regret that I didn't live every moment of this pregnancy like it could end.

I've read that it's good to go through every stage of grief. That it's good to feel all the feels. The bad and the bad and even the good. I guess what I am doing is "good." And, I'm talking about it here, because I planned to talk more about my experiences as my baby daughter was growing. I didn't think it would end up like this. This wasn't the plan. But, I am still talking, because, as I have sadly learned, we are not alone in this. Many of my dear friends have experienced this and come out the other side. I feel very alone and I feel so much better when I am with someone who listens or shares or just sits with me. I know there is hope for me. Hope for us. We have this beautiful, lovely family full of kids that are home with me because of Hurricane Harvey and who frankly are driving me nuts.

But, this timing must be perfect, because it's the timing that it is. I can't change it. And, no matter how much regret covers me, I can't change that my baby daughter is in heaven. So, for now, I'm super sad.

Meanwhile, I shared a song at her memorial service, which we had for the 6 of us with our pastor at Church of the Apostles Houston just before Harvey made land fall. I recorded it in my living room, after the storm, as a song of hope. You can tell I am in a state of shock still, because I recorded it with no makeup on and didn't care one bit. One day I will probably laugh about that and regret it too! But, for now, that is not one of my regrets.

In case you didn't see it and would like a song of hope in your storm. Here it is.

Save Me, Oh God by Rebekah Maddux El-Hakam