Happy Birthdate little Levi. Exactly one year ago, I had the privilege of giving birth to my little stillborn angel, Levi. I call it a privilege now, because I can see how the whole experience has blessed my life.
I was lucky enough to carry Levi inside of me for 20 weeks. I got to see him wiggle around inside of me, to hear his heart beating, and to feel him moving in me. I was instantly in love with him - just as I have been with each of my children. Because of some health issues, I was put on bed rest during the first part of my pregnancy. Some of the blessings that came from that particular trial are: I was able to be the recipient of much service from my mother, from my friends, and others; my son Lane gained a new mother, "Mamma Tammy"; and I was able to gain much patience, understanding and even spiritual insights as I read and was able to memorize the "Proclamation to the Family". As a bonus - my sweet husband and children were finally blessed with some really good meals.
When the time came for us to go to the Ultrasound, we were really excited. I even let my oldest daughter come along to see the tiny baby. Cold gel on my belly... head turned toward the monitor in anticipation...the instant, cold, grappling fear as I looked at the screen and saw right away...NO heartbeat...NO movement. The tears began to flow involuntarily down my cheeks. I knew. She couldn't tell me anything except, "Excuse me a moment, I am going to go and get the radiologist." But I knew.
The following hours were quiet and dark ones. "How could this have happened?" "What did I do wrong?" "Why me, God?" After a powerful priesthood blessing and a few hours of restless rest, I went in to the hospital. Labor was induced. It was the same painful feelings that I had in each of my other children's labors. Only this time - it was a bit sharper, due to the emotions accompanying my contractions. When time came to deliver, I cried to Greg. I just didn't want to push him out, knowing he was dead. I felt if I could just keep him inside of me, he would still be a part of me.
Then... I was able to see him. To hold him. To touch each of his precious tiny toes and fingers.
Greg and I were able to say both "hello" and "goodbye" to our sweet angel. The little bear and blanket they gave us were of some comfort, but it was still one of the hardest things I've ever done to walk out of that hospital without a baby.
It wasn't just Levi that died, it was a part of me, too. It was all of my hopes and dreams for him, and the future that my kids at home wouldn't ever have with him. The older children had a hard time, tears and questions and many hugs. The following days went by in a blur. Meals, cards, flowers, and expressions of sympathy were all gratefully received, but that didn't make it any easier to go to sleep at night and feel a part of you missing, feel the after pains, or the gentle flow of milk that was meant for Levi.
Time marches onward. Most people who have not experienced this tragedy would expect for one to "move on" or "get over it" or "just try again", as if Levi weren't my child, my baby that I longed for. Others didn't get to see him, hold him, know him. Some people in my life didn't even acknowledge his existence to me or question how I was doing. It was awkward to say the least.
In a feeble attempt to express my feelings about Levi, I penned a little poem entitled,
"The Unanswerable Question".
The Unanswerable Question
(A plea for Levi)
By: Viki Bailey
12/2007
Dear God in Heaven, up high on your throne,
I know you can hear me, down here all alone.
I’m coming before you with grief, for to say,
“My heart has been shattered in pieces today”.
I’m sure You have plans which are foreign to me.
I wish I could comprehend what they may be.
These questions I ask, though in futility.
Why, dear God? Why did You take him from me?
Why was my baby taken?
Why was I thus forsaken?
Why could I not hold him pink and warm?
Why was he thus so coldly born?
Has this cruel suffering a grand design?
Or is it merely a lesson of mine?
My children oft greet me with querulous minds,
To many a question, the answer I’ll find.
At times it is given, at times it’s unknown
And rarely I tell them, “Someday when you’re grown”.
Now I’m turned into a child, unwise
As to my Heavenward home I yearn
With aching soul and moistened eyes
To ask the questions, my heart doth burn.
I plead with my Father
Answers sought here below.
“The time is not right, child,
Some day you shall know.”
It is hard to believe that a whole year has already passed. I think of how I should be holding a one year old in my lap instead of my 3 year old. Every time I count my children as we are loading up in the car or just going to bed, I feel like there is one missing. We are praying and hoping for a chance to have another special spirit join our family some day, but nobody will ever 'replace' our little Levi. I look forward to the day when I will get to see Levi again, to hold him again, but with vitality and life in his frame. Thank you God for the opportunity to have carried that sweet baby for a time, and for the impact he has been in my life.
I love you Levi.
17 comments:
I shouldn't have read this just now. I just finished my makeup for a night out with friends, now I'm crying and have to go fix it! Thanks for sharing your poem. Death is so hard to understand, even with our knowledge of The Plan of Salvation. It is just hard. Someday we'll all get to meet Levi!
Crying here also. What a moving, beautiful tribute. I am also looking forward to the day when Levi will be with you again. (Sending you a hug.)
Wow. That's takes some serious talent to write a poem like that in the midst of a hard time in your life. I'm sure Levi would have fit right in with your other great kids. Thanks for sharing.
I certainly agree with comments already left. Of course you will never 'get over' it and 'move on'. I and my children are dealing with that now as well. Viki your words are exquisite, thank you for allowing me to be able to view them. My love to you.
Viki, seu borne estava movendo-se assim! Eu sou pesaroso para sua experimentação mas eu não posso pensar de uma pessoa mais forte a entrusted com uma ação tão delicada. Eu sou assim grato para seus força e friendship. Ter ambos perdidos alguém que era assim perto de nós que nós nunca conhecemos está indo ser nosso presente mais grande na vida seguinte! Agradecimentos para o beign uma pessoa tão maravilhosa!
Thanks for sharing such intimate feelings; I think we all can get a glimpse of Levi and the love you have for him through your sweet words. We love you and your awesome family.
I don't think a mother ever gets over the loss of a child. Especially after feeling life inside her. My mother lost a baby at 30 weeks, years before I was born and you could still hear the pain in her voice as she spoke of her little Job.
I feel bad that I didn't remember that important day of yours. You are such a strong person and I think because of that we forget how sweet and soft you are also.
I'm sending a hug your way, and hope that somehow that helps ease the pain a little.
Helen Steiner Rice wrote a poem that I keep in Jaren's baby book. The last four lines are..."So accept these "little angels" as gifts from God above, and thank Him for this lesson in Faith and Hope and Love." Do you think our "little angels" are together? I love you!
Viki that was just beautiful. The way you wrote your feelings touched my heart, and brought my daughter close to me once again. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and feelings. I know that Levi is watching over you and your family. We may not get to raise these children of ours here, but they are still apart of our family, and we can feel that ever day. Thank you once again.
Don't know what to say but I love you Viki and I admire your strength. Thank you for sharing. It gives perspective to things I call "trials" and reminds me to focus on the many blessings I so clearly have. I've been using the analogy of "when it feels like the rug has been pulled out from under you, be grateful you are still standing on a firm foundation." I shared that with Jim the other day and he added "yes, I am glad for that firm foundation, but when the rug gets pulled out and you fall, it still hurts."
I am speechless! What a wonderful poem of your feelings and expressions! I am so touched. Thank you for sharing with us. I thought about you all day on Friday and wanted to visit with you but unfortunately you were gone! We love you and want you to know how important you are in our lives! Thank you for your strong example as well!
That was so beautiful. I admire you very much and have enjoyed getting to know you. I have never experienced this kind of loss, but have a friend that is recently struggling through. That you for some insight into what she might be feeling.
What a beautiful post. If ever there was a blog post that deserved a comment this is it. I feel there are not any adequate comments to express the wonderfulness of this post. Thank you so much for sharing your feelings with us.
Viki, thanks for a wonderful post. It was 20 years ago this month that i gave birth to our little stillborn. I can close my eyes and remember every minute. I ma glad you are learning to understand.
Love you!
I love you Viki. Thanks for sharing your poem with all of us. You are such an amazing person to me. Your children are so lucky to have you as their mother. Of course you will never forget little Levi and your experience, but I hope that you are healing.
That must have been hard to write, but also very good. I can't imagine what going through that was like. Sometimes we want to think that things going smoothly implies that God is helping or watching out for us, but in the recent reading of the B of M, surprisingly (and much to my anguish) that seems not to be the case. Trials and sadness often are what bring us to God. I'm still so sorry and know that the pain doesn't end.
ok, so even manly Tongan men cry. I had to read that in sections because it was too much to read all at once. That was a beautiful tribute. Very touching. Thanks for sharing.
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