A letter to Stellan
posted on January 29, 2009
Dear little Stellan,
Today, as Daddy and I sail the turquoise blue waters of the Caribbean with you, our sweet fourth babe, you are turning three months old. Your three month birthday marks something very special to us, and so today, we want to tell you a story.
Although God has known about you since before time began, we only learned of your existence last February. We were surprised and thrilled to learn that your brothers and sister would be getting another sibling, and that Daddy and I would be parents once again.
And, as you know, exactly three months ago, you came screaming into this world, your tiny heart beating perfectly. That day, Daddy and I held you in our arms at the hospital; you were warm, soft and new.
But, Stellan, there is something we have never told you before. Exactly three months to the day before you were born, Daddy and I were also at the hospital with you. That day was the day the doctors gave us the news that they believed our dear, sweet, much wanted fourth babe–you–would not survive to be born alive. Something was terribly wrong with your heart, little Stellan. It was beating much too fast for far too long. You were in heart failure, your tiny body was filled with fluid, you had only been growing in me for 21 weeks, and then–three months before you were born–the doctors told us you had heart block.
“There is nothing more we can do. If you were at least 31 weeks, your baby could possibly survive to be born and get a pacemaker. But there is no way we have that much time. Your baby might live for another day or two, but that is the extent of our expectation. Your baby will be stillborn.”
A miracle happened that night, Stellan. Your Daddy and I felt God’s hand in our lives like we had never felt it before. We were heartbroken, terrified, and yet–amazingly–at peace. I remember telling God that night, through my sobs while I shook in the hospital bed, that He could have you. I trusted Him and, although I begged for Him to spare you and let you live, I tried not to cling to hope, for I felt certain those hopes would be dashed. I set you in God’s loving arms and I wept for the son I thought I would never truly know on this earth.
Little did I know at that time, but the way God reached down and gifted us with a peace that passes understanding was only the tip of the iceberg in how He would continue to radicalize our lives. A restored marriage, a deeper relationship with God I had not even known to dream about, peace in my own heart as I learned to give up the control I thought I had on my life, and a heart for others experiencing loss that I’d never bothered to have…these things were gained by the miracle that God began that night.
Little did we know how far-reaching His miracle would be, however. He had a far sweeter surprise in store for us than I dared even hope.
While Daddy and I grieved a baby we did not yet know, and yet had been told we would lose, we made the decision to find out–three months before you were born–who you were.
“It’s a boy!”
We were so proud of you, little Stellan. Daddy and I loved you so much, and we still do. But those days in the hospital, when all we could do was watch you on the ultrasound machine once every hour, as the doctors monitored the progression of your sickness, we longed for others to know you as well.
Daddy and I decided to name you Stellan. Daddy got the final call on naming you that; your name means peaceful. And even that night, as a prayer movement the likes of which I will probably never truly understand until I get to Heaven moved for you via the Internet of all places, as strangers began to love you like their own and storm the gates of Heaven on your behalf, we longed to share you with even them.
Even though we had tried to keep your siblings’ real names under wraps, we wanted to shout yours from the rooftops. Our son is Stellan!! He is beautiful, he is perfect, he is loved by us, he is loved by God, and he will live.
We knew you would live, Stellan. But we almost dared not hope that you would actually live in our arms here on earth. We knew you would live, if not on earth, then perfectly healed in Heaven with our sweet Jesus, but before God took you there, we wanted everyone to know you.
I remember well when a sweet gal across the pond, as they say, sent me a photograph of your name in the sand on the beaches of England. I looked at the photograph as I lay in the hospital bed, hooked up to too many monitors to count, and I was moved to tears. I almost did not believe what I was seeing. She wrote your name in the sand. You were known, Stellan. I was so proud.
When hundreds of other dear ones created images of your name and sent them to me, I actually had to create a gallery. God was working in my life, in Daddy’s life, in the lives of our family and friends, and even in the lives of folks we had never yet met.
And God was not finished with your story yet, either, baby Stellan.
As doctors looked on with amazement, your heart finally converted and began to beat at a normal pace. In a medically unexplainable fashion, your “irreversible heart block” disappeared. The hydrops your little body suffered from dissipated as your heart kept beating steadily. And even at the end of your pregnancy, when I had to stop taking the heart medication that the doctors believed was keeping you on track, you defied the odds and proved that you needed neither medical intervention nor medication of any kind.
You were healed. On this earth. The thought of that still leaves me breathless.
And today, as we celebrate your three month birthday, it’s difficult not to look at how things have come full circle since that day three months before your birth. I thought it was only fitting to round our your name gallery with one final photograph:
Who would have ever imagined that three months would go by after getting the first photo of your name in the sand, that you’d be born alive and well, and that three more months would pass and your Daddy and I would have the honor of a luxurious vacation where we could write your name in the sand with you!?
Who would ever have imagined? Of course, we do know Who would have. Our almighty God is the only one who could have caused things to come full circle like this.
And even though things have come full circle, we know that this is not the end of your story, Stellan. God chose you, and He must have amazing plans in store for you, sweet babe.
With praise to God ever on our lips, we will wait and watch as those plans unfold.
Happy three month birthday, Stellan.
We love you,
Mama and Daddy
posted on March 10, 2008
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