Evelyn Rose

It's time to write about Evelyn Rose.

We knew I was pregnant around Thanksgiving 2010 (no test, we just knew!). We waited to tell family until Christmas, and had our first Dr. appointment in January '11. In march we had an ultrasound and discovered we were having a girl!

After a couple hours of high excitement and celebration over our coming baby girl, I received a phone call from our Doctor. She had hard news for me- that our little girl was very small, and her brain was not forming right. We scheduled an ultrasound with a specialist, and prayed deeply for a week, for healing. During that week I prepared myself for a miracle, and also reached a place where I was overjoyed to take care of her, regardless of her condition. I did not prepare myself to lose her.
At our next appointment we met with a "genetic counselor", and I let most of what she said roll off of me, thinking it would not apply to us. We loved seeing her during the ultrasound- her feet, hands, face, eyes- we even saw her suck her thumb and pull on her ear like her Grandma Parkin! We saw that she is not just a baby, she is part of our extended family! After the ultrasound was over, we waited quietly for the Doctor to come & tell us that she was healthy. He came in and said he had some things to show us... my heart sank a little, but I hoped they would only be small things. He walked us through, picture by picture, showing us the parts of her body that were not forming right. Her body was 5 weeks behind in growth, there was a hole in her very big heart, and many parts of her brain were way different than they should be. He showed us how her sweet face and head had molded to make room for the parts of her brain that weren't growing right. We saw how my placenta had taken over the womb, leaving her only a tiny pocket of fluid.
My heart sank to the lowest place it has ever been. My head bent forward and hot, stinging tears rolled from my eyes to my heart. I couldn't breathe, as the doctor told me that she has no medical chance of living.
The first words I spoke were, "Babies are God's, and not ours.".
We asked lots of questions- if there was ANYTHING we could do to help her, what the coming days/months would look like, if there was any harm to my body, WHY she wasn't growing right...
They told us it was possible that she had gotten an infection in the early days of pregnancy, but more likely that she had 23 extra chromosomes- caused by either my cells not dividing, or by two sperm getting in at once.
We cried in that ultrasound room, because we so badly wanted a chance to love her. As the news sank into our hearts, we came to see: Either God would touch every cell of her body so that she could live- which would be a miracle worthy of the news- or, He would decide to keep her, and she would go straight from my arms to the arms of her Creator, never knowing the pain and evil of this world.
The days following were very dark. We tried to cling to truth, to hope. The words I spoke to the doctor rang in my mind, "No matter how hard the road before us is, we will get through with hope, because of the God that walks with us.".
Each morning was hard, not knowing what the day would bring.
We named her Evelyn Rose. Evelyn means "life", and Rose has become a symbol of God's careful orchestration of people and events that would help us through such tough times- the tiny glimmers of proof that God was walking with us.
Many, many people across the world are praying tearfully for her- crying out to our Creator to touch every cell, and continue to give her precious life. My prayer is twofold: As Jesus prayed in the garden for the Father to take his burden, but with surrender- Father, give her life! But not my will, Yours. And second, that her life would reveal God's greatness- no matter how long or short.

Josh and I have focused our energy on preparing to enjoy whatever time we get with her- even if it's just a few moments with her body. I sewed her a blanket to wrap her in when we hold her, and Josh made a playlist including a song to have a father/daughter dance with her.
...from a letter I wrote to her:
"It may be that for your dance, your earthly Daddy will hold your body, and your heavenly Father will hold your spirit. You may not be wearing a wedding dress, but you will be clothed in white. And both your Daddies (and me!) will have tears- Daddy and I, tears of letting you go, and the Father, tears of joy as He welcomes you!"
Not the way I had imagined her father/daughter dance, but yet deeply special.

Today we got to see her again! I had prepared everything we might need for a delivery, in case she had already gone-- but she is still alive! Her heart was beating between 150 and 160, which is normal! She still looks small, and from the eye of the in-office ultrasound, her head still needs healing, but she had a little more fluid around her, and we got to watch her have the hiccups!
We scheduled another appointment for next week to check on her. Each day that she lives is a miracle- our Dr. (who is a believer!) said she hasn't seen a baby with this diagnosis live this long! I don't know if God will choose to heal her, but I know He can. I also consider each moment that I get to carry her a treasure. I'm thankful that she has held out long enough for us to know that she's a girl, long enough to see her suck her thumb and have the hiccups. I'm also thankful for the time that God has used to changed our hearts from overwhelming fear and searing pain of loss, to joy for each moment we get! I'm also thankful for the two sweet, energetic little boys God has already given us.

God is with us, each step of this journey, and I will honor Him no matter what He chooses. Pray alongside us- for miracles, for God to show His greatness, and for continued peace.