Liz’s Story of Hope

My husband Andy and I have two beautiful girls, and we were debating whether or not to have another baby. We didn’t really feel strongly one way or another, but wanted to be obedient to the Lord. So we decided to start trying and see what God had in store for us.

The second month of trying and, bam! I was pregnant. It took five or six months to get pregnant with the girls, and the baby that we named Birch and lost at 9 weeks (between our girls), so we were absolutely shocked. As we wrapped our heads around the idea of being a family of five, our excitement grew. We dreamed of a little boy or a little girl and thought of names and wondered what this little one would be like.

My pregnancy was going great. Well, except for the nausea that persisted all day and didn’t start easing up until 16 weeks or so. We had a very busy summer planned, with a trip to Disneyland, the beach, Alaska (where I’m from), Chicago, and Dallas. We were going to really live it up with travel, seeing friends, and having fun as a family before the baby was born in November. The night we arrived at the beach I woke up at 4:00 am. My water had broken.

By the grace of God, my friend had let us borrow a doppler so I could hear the baby’s heartbeat. When I heard it in that hotel room at 5:00 am (when I had finally mustered up the courage to check), I felt like I could breathe again.

I’ve lost a baby. I can’t lose another one, I thought.

I lay there and pleaded with the Lord for my baby’s life until I fell asleep. When the girls woke up, we headed to the ER. I was 17 weeks exactly.

“Your membranes have ruptured and you need to go home today and see your OB tomorrow. You are now on bed rest and you need to drink as much fluid as possible,” the doctor said as they handed me discharge paperwork that said “threatened miscarriage.”

We hopped in the car and made the thirteen hour drive back to Nashville, praying and pleading constantly as we went.

The next day, I went to see a high risk OB in Nashville. I had an in depth ultrasound that showed very low fluid around our sweet baby. The doctor talked to us about everything. She said the biggest risk to the baby was pulmonary hypoplasia because the lungs depend on the fluid to develop. Risks to me were infection and early labor. She mentioned that some people would terminate because of the risk to the lungs.

That was not an option for us.

She said that if I got an infection it could lead to sepsis and then I would have to consider terminating the pregnancy because my life would be at risk. I pray it doesn’t come down to that, I thought.

We were going to leave the gender a surprise but decided with everything going on, we wanted to find out to allow us to pray for the baby as specifically as possible. When we heard it was a boy, Andy and I both started to sob. We named him Woods to go along with his sisters Wren and Willow. Our little Woods—the boy we’ve dreamed of and prayed for—we may lose him.

We went home and I was very compliant with bed rest. I drank five to six liters of water a day. My fluid losses always happened when I was laying down at night, so I slept sitting up. Friends, family, and our church community showed up in a big way. God sustained us through His body. I continued to lose fluid periodically, but the next week the ultrasound showed the fluid had increased. Praise God! We left that appointment encouraged and optimistic. We might make it!  We continued to plead for the life of our boy, and we were hopeful.

Every morning and night we listened to Woods’ heartbeat as a family. The girls loved listening to their little brother. We talked to him and the girls hugged my belly. The Lord gave us some serious moments of joy in the midst of a lot of uncertainty and worry. I had been praying that God would send some Scripture to encourage me and give me something to stand on when things got hard. One of my best friends sent me a verse, John 11:4, at 11:00 pm as she was up with her newborn.

“I pray this is what Jesus is saying about Woods,” she said. “But when Jesus heard it He said, ‘This illness does not lead to death. It is for the glory of God, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.’”

Andy and I spent time together in John 11 the next morning and prayed together. We prayed that Woods’ and my illness wouldn’t end in death, knowing full well how the story of Lazarus went. He did die. But the Lord brought him back. I hoped so strongly that Woods would survive, but deeply in my heart I knew that if he did die, it didn’t end in death. It ended in eternity with the Father. We continued to pray for his life and healing, and rejoiced in every second we had with him and every heartbeat we heard. “Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer,” (Romans 12:12). We were hoping, trying to be patient, and praying with all we had.

I had some periodic heavy bleeding, but it stopped and Woods still had a heartbeat.

“This may be the new norm,” I told friends and family.

But one morning, when I was 20 weeks, I woke up and I started to bleed. Badly. I went to the hospital and began to deliver Woods. Andy and I just clung to each other and sobbed. We prayed for the situation, and we prayed for peace and comfort. This was my worse-case scenario and it was happening. We were devastated and heartbroken.

But God. People started showing up. We were covered—literally surrounded—in prayer by our dearest friends and family. God showed up for us in every detail. His presence felt palpable; I knew He was real like never before. We had peace in that room that made zero sense given the situation.

Our really good friends experienced a loss of their baby at 18 weeks last year and they came and walked so closely beside us, despite how sensitive and difficult it was for them. She rubbed my feet as I contracted, prayed for me, and wept with me. I can’t describe how that ministered to my heart. Her husband and other men supported Andy in a way that I couldn’t. We were overwhelmed by the support and love we received from family, friends, and the body of Christ.

Here’s the thing: my heart was absolutely shattered. It was difficult, and so painful in every way. But the time through the whole of labor and delivery was also incredibly peaceful and beautiful. My sister and my mom were there with Andy and me all night long, sharing the handholding-during-every-contraction duty. My sister had a fantastic playlist of meaningful praise and worship songs. During every contraction, as if involuntary and like I couldn’t help it, I sang and praised God and thanked Him for the time I had with Woods.

“You’re a good, good Father. It’s who You are, it’s who You are, and I’m loved by You.”

“In the valley I will lift my eyes to the One who sees me there.”

“Thy will be done.”

“Though you slay me, yet I will praise You. Though You take from me, I will bless Your name. Though You ruin me, still I will worship. Sing a song to the One who is all I need.”

We were going through the worst scenario that has ever happened to us, and we couldn’t help but sing and worship our God. I can tell you in all honesty that if you asked me how I would react to having to deliver my son, who would die during delivery or shortly after, my answer would not be how I was reacting then. All I can say is that God was so incredibly tangible to us. It was truly supernatural. He protected me. He orchestrated Woods’ life, delivery, and death perfectly according to His will and His plan.

How did we think God would be most glorified in this? To miraculously save our son and have him be born perfectly healthy several months from now, of course. But we know, without a doubt, that His ways are better than ours. Always. We don’t understand it. We don’t like the pain and loss. But He is good, powerful, and sovereign. He gives us faith, and He saved us by His grace. And because of Christ, because of His death and resurrection, we knew where Woods would go. And we knew that we would be reunited with him there. The Lord gave Andy a verse, 2 Samuel 12:23, “‘But now he is dead. Why should I fast? Can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he will not return to me.’” We found great comfort in this truth.

Woods was born at 1:55am on June 28, 2017. He was so small and calm. He wasn’t moving and he wasn’t struggling, which was another instance of God pouring out His grace. My fear was he would come out trying to breathe and there would be nothing I could do to help my baby boy. But there he was, with his hands by his face, so peaceful and sweet. He looked like he was smiling a little. Our strong-as-an-oak Woods, through everything that was thrown at him, had a heart rate of 150-160 consistently. But now I could see his heart still beating—very slowly, maybe 30-40 times per minute, but beating. What an amazing boy! We held him, we prayed with him, we talked to him. My placenta was not coming out, but my doctor gave me about 45 minutes with my precious Woods and then said it was time to go to the OR.

When I got back to my room, Andy told me that Woods went to be with the Lord at 3:30am and that he was holding him as his heart stopped. He said in the time he had while he was alive he prayed with him, told him about his sisters, told him about Jesus, and explained how much we love him. We were able to hold our darling boy for about 12 hours. What precious time that was, and time that we are so grateful for! I kissed him constantly and studied his tiny body. He was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

So now, we continue on. But how in the world do we even start? By God’s grace. He is so good. He has faithfully sustained us and held us together. We have a peace and a comfort that truly does surpass understanding. My heart is absolutely broken into a million pieces, and I fall apart (often)—but I know that my Savior can and will put me back together. He hasn’t left my side and He won’t leave me now.

I am the wife of Andy and mom to four kids, two of which beat us to heaven. We live just outside of Nashville, and I work part time as a nurse anesthetist specializing in pediatrics. I love the Lord, and over the last year He has grown my love of His word.

We would be honored to share your story as a Hope Mom on our blog. Every Saturday we feature a Hope Mom’s story in order to showcase God’s faithfulness even in the midst of such deep sorrow. If you would like to have your story shared on our blog for this purpose, learn more and submit here.