To me, May is always the month of celebrating spring, graduations, birth, rebirth, and motherhood. This is a long post written by my dear friend, Susan Blount, about her daughter and granddaughter. It will break your heart, but it may also be a balm to those of you who have suffered deeply in the area of motherhood.
June 6, 2010
Diane arrived early for my scheduled haircut this morning. I
was struggling to stay focused and get things done before she
came. I was still restless after she left – so much to do, but
for some reason I just couldn’t settle into any of it.
I was reading these verses – Psalm 46:1-3, “God is our refuge
and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore, we
will not fear, Even though the earth be removed, And though
the mountains be carried into the midst …of the sea; though
its waters roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake
with its swelling.“
Sometime after 10 AM, while reading these Scriptures, the
phone rang. It was my son-in-law Dan calling from his work
site “Melissa is on her way to the hospital. They can’t hear
the baby’s heartbeat.” Melissa was my daughter and Dan
was her husband. My heart sank deeply. “No, Lord,” I
protested. “Not Melissa!”
“What do you need, Dan?” I could barely listen to what he
was saying as my mind raced – Melissa would have Emma
with her. “I’ll meet you there,” I said, knowing I would be
needed to watch Emma or take her home. “I’m so sorry,
Dan.”
I was first to arrive at the hospital. It all seemed so surreal
as I waited. I had little hope that an ultrasound would
change the outcome. Surely this wasn’t happening to us—to
my beloved daughter who, with her husband, had committed
to having as many children as God would give her. Now, that
commitment was being tested – attacked is more like it.
Dan arrived next and together we watched the midwife,
Heather, Melissa and little Emma take that lonely walk from
the parking lot. My stomach was in knots . . . “Be still nerves,
be still.”
Without a word we followed Heather and took the elevator up
to Room 5 where nurses Heidi and Belinda greeted us. They
wasted no time getting the Doppler going, but all we could
hear was the silence of Melissa’s womb.
“I’ll call the doctor,” the nurse said softly, trying to hide her
emotions. Dan looked at Heather. “What does that mean?”
he asked hopefully. “They didn’t get a heartbeat,” was her
quiet response. It was then we all knew…
It didn’t seem long before the doctor came in. He took the
ultrasound and began his search. He looked at Melissa and
said, “Everything looks perfect, the placenta looks well
attached, the baby looks good, but here’s the heart . . .” and we
could all see . . . it wasn’t moving. Ivana had been delivered
directly into the arms of Jesus after approximately 8 months
in her mommy’s womb.
Melissa had had some concerns over the weekend. The baby
hadn’t moved much, so on Monday morning Heather, the
midwife, drove over to check. They got a healthy heartbeat
and everyone was reassured. Then on Wednesday the baby
was quiet again, and by evening Melissa could not coax her to
move at all. That must have been a long night. Early the next
morning she dropped her children off at 4-H before Heather
came once again. But, this time they could not hear anything.
I didn’t know until later, but Melissa was now troubled by her
fears of being around dead people. When my parents had
been caretakers for a funeral home, she had never been able
to go in the room where the caskets of dead bodies were.
Now she was trying to come to grips with her fear and
wondered how she could ever go through the delivery of her
very own baby. She wanted it out, and she wanted it out now.
I couldn’t believe she was asking for a C-section. Melissa? I
knew that it was best, even now, for her body to experience a
vaginal birth. The doctor agreed. He offered Melissa all the
time she needed to think things over and when she was
ready, he would give her something to get things started. He
explained it could be hours before it would even take effect.
Without consulting with Dan or anyone else, Melissa insisted
on getting whatever she needed to get started. It was urgent
for her.
Because there is a God, the doctor’s predictions were
misspoken. It was not a long wait. During the night before,
Melissa had felt some mild contractions. Now God was using
Melissa’s own body and with little intervention the
contractions came and Ivana was born by 6 PM that evening.
During this time, I was trying to tend to Emma; call Melissa’s
sisters; first, Jen in New York, and finally Loralei and Crysten
nearby. A friend agreed to keep Melissa’s three oldest
children with her as long as she needed to,
Melissa asked about a tub birth, and even though it was
against hospital policy, the doctor allowed it. The tub was a
large whirlpool one and brought a lot of comfort to Melissa as
she labored.
She did beautifully throughout the process. I still had no idea
about her fears. The doctor and his nurses were wonderful –
God’s agents, for sure.
I watched Ivana being born, and I watched her mom embrace
her just like she would any other of her babies. Ivana looked
unbelievably whole . . . except she wasn’t breathing.
“It’s a girl,” Melissa announced after checking to be sure.
Melissa talked to her with comforting words of love even
though she knew Ivana wasn’t there. She was experiencing
the grace and mercy of God that casts out all fears. With God
we can do anything.
We were looking at a beautiful little baby girl, who weighed 6
lbs. 10 ozs. (on 6/10, by the way). We may never know why
God didn’t allow her to stay. Life and death decisions are and
were in His hands on this day. There were no decisions to
make, and Melissa and Dan can have confidence that there
was nothing more that they could have done to avoid this.
They had done the best that they could for Ivana Grace. Her
name was chosen because it means “Gift of God.”
As soon as she was born, Melissa asked for her other
children. I don’t know what Faith, Eli and Alicia must have
thought when Aunt Crysten came to pick them up. They had
no idea their mom was in the hospital – they just thought she
was late in picking them up from 4-H.
The nurses were preparing a new room for Melissa at the end
of the hall, away from the sounds of birthing mothers and
crying babies. I encouraged Dan to take the children there to
tell them before they went in to see their mom. There were
tears as they came out, and more tears and weeping when
they saw their mom holding their new sister.
It’s hard to think of all the wonderful things Ivana was
enjoying in heaven, when all you want to do is hold her, bath
her, nurse her, dress her, teach her things like how to smile,
to clap, to walk, to sing “Jesus Loves Me” . . . but, with time,
everyone will now be more heaven minded knowing that
Ivana is there.
After the Walls had their time as a family we were invited in
to join them. There are some wonderful ladies in the local
community who sew clothes for little babies like Ivana and for
parents who are unprepared for the suddenness of losing
their baby. God bless them.
Melissa dressed Ivana in the most gorgeous ivory colored
eyelet dress, complete with bows, lace, matching bonnet and
socks. Then she gently wrapped her in a blanket and anyone
who wanted to hold her was welcomed to do it.
She felt like a living baby. She looked like a living baby who
was only asleep. “Can’t we keep her, Lord?” I found myself
asking as I stared into her precious face. I didn’t want to let
her go. I just wanted to keep her; hold her. I can’t imagine
how hard it must have been for Melissa, but she managed her
emotions very well – stoic at times, strong; and then very sad
at other times.
Another great gift to the community comes from the
generosity of local funeral homes. They provide their services
at no charge for babies like Ivana. What a comfort to
grieving parents who have been blindsided by all the
unexpected and unexplained that is happening to them. They
would have supplied the casket at no charge, too, but Dan
wanted to build one for her himself.
Melissa wasn’t always sure what she wanted – no
company/company – and would switch back and forth for a
while. During her “no company” time she inadvertently sent
her midwife away. She also couldn’t decide whether to go
home or not. Her universe was rocked, and nothing else
seemed to matter. Even the smallest decisions were difficult
to make. In the end, she went home about 9 that evening.
Our church family was very supportive. The men volunteered
to help Dan dig a grave, but he turned them down. “That’s
okay. It’s my daughter,” he told them.
Eli, Ivana’s ten-year-old brother, wanted to do something for
the Tuesday afternoon outdoor service. When he mentioned it
his sister asked, “Do you want a piece of paper so you can
write something?”
“Nope. I have my Bible. That’s all I need,” he replied with
confidence. I wasn’t there for the discussions, but he wanted
to share this verse with everyone: “In all this Job did not sin
nor charge God with wrong ” (Job 1:22). They had been
studying it during family devotions. He wanted everyone to
know that they weren’t mad at God. He practiced with his
mom.
But, at the service, Eli was so overcome with his grief, he
couldn’t compose himself to speak so his dad shared with the
audience of over 100 what he had wanted to say.
Ivana was buried in a small private cemetery here on the
farm. In the middle is a huge oak tree that shadows the
entire site. Other children from the 1800’s, who lived on our
farm, are also buried there.
We used golf carts to drive those who could not easily make
the walk. We sang songs that had been chosen by Ivana’s
family. Her siblings wanted “Jesus Loves Me” to be the first.
After Dan and Pastor Wayne shared some Scriptures and
encouragement, Uncle Jeremy and Uncle Ed carefully placed
Ivana in the ground and we dropped our roses, given to each
of us by the church, on top. She was buried in the beautiful
gown from the hospital and with a blanket that had been
made for her by a friend.
Only little Emma refused to share her rose. She decided to
keep it. Eli took a shovel and insisted on helping to cover his
sister’s casket with dirt. No one moved until the job was
done. Then slowly, people began to make their way back to
their cars. It was very quiet.
It’s so hard… to say, “Goodbye”. Melissa’s sorrow was great,
but not irrational. Thank God “Goodbye” is not forever.
There’s a place where we’ll see Ivana’s face again. This hope
is our anchor.
“We’ll give thanks to You with gratitude for lessons learned in
how to trust in You—
That we are blessed beyond what we could ever dream In
abundance or in need” (—Nichole Nordeman).
Once again I was reminded of the verses God had given me
the day Ivana died:
“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in
trouble. Therefore we will not fear, Even though the earth be
removed, And though the mountains be carried into the midst
…of the sea; though its waters roar and be troubled, though
the mountains shake with its swelling” (Psalm 46:1-3).
Summer Setting 