It has been one week since we first held our sweet Eisley and had to say our earthly goodbye. I wrote in my journal of how I wish time would stand still. Time is moving forward a lot faster than my heart is healing. I close my eyes and imagine myself holding her for the first time again. Remembering how in awe I was at her tiny hand between my thumb and finger. I can still picture her tiny little Chase-like nose and her beautiful mouth shape and lips. Her tiny soft toes… everything so perfect.
After she passed away Tuesday and we decided to be induced, they told us that is could take a while for my body to deliver, because it just wasn’t time. They told us that there will be changes her body will make immediately and they prepared us for what we might see. They told us that her skin would be lose and could even be falling off and that her features will have changed. I immediately wondered if we should just do the c-section so things would be over quickly. But they reminded me to think about future pregnancies and also the healing process which would be incredibly difficult on top of the loss of our daughter. I couldn’t even believe I had to face these questions right away and to think about being pregnant again… hours after losing her… it was the most difficult thing.
The 3 decisions to choose from for delivery were; one, a c-section. two, induced labor. Or three, go home and wait for my body to naturally go into labor. I knew immediatley 3 was out of the picture. It had only been 2 hours of knowing she had passed and I ached knowing that she was inside of me, but she was no longer alive. No way could I go weeks of waiting for my body to deliver her. And they also told us that Eisley would have a lot of changes during that time. I couldn’t bare the thought of what we might see weeks later.
We choose to be induced. It took 3 days (72 hours) for my body to deliver her naturally but we don’t regret the decision. We we’re able to see our daughter and she wasn’t anything like they had told us.
When I delivered her (which someday I will share about the actually delivery part and maybe soon) I was terrified to look at her. I actually asked them to clean her and dress her before I saw her, because I was so afraid of what I would see. Ted later told me, he was afraid too.
The nurse I had at the time I delivered her said, “Oh Jami, she is so beautiful.” She paused and I wondered if she just had to say that. “She is so beautiful. I was afraid of what we would see since she passed away 3 days ago… but she is perfect.” I just looked at Ted’s expression as he looked down at our daughter and realized, our nurse was right. Ted’s face said it all. She was perfect.
Even no matter what she would have looked like, she would have been perfect to us. Although, I am extremly thankful that it didn’t end up being what they had told us. Thank you God.
One thing that helps me are the photos Ted took of our little Eisley. It felt so strange to pull out the camera in a time like that, but we knew we would want photos of our daughter because our memory may fail us, although I pray we will never forget.
(I may never share all of the photos, just some for now….)
Ted and I both wish we could have had more time with her, but we agreed that any amount of time with her, wouldn’t have been enough. We were only able to keep her with us for a few hours after her delivery because of the changes her body would go through outside the womb. I’ve already shared, but the time we did have with her were that of peace. We felt complete peace as we held our little Eisley and we knew it was right that she was with Him.
We didn’t get a lot of time with her on earth, but I do believe that I will see her again and I will spend eternity with her. Right now she’s hanging out with Jesus and He’s telling her how much she was and is loved by us and by Him. A friend gave me a photo last night that made her think of Eisley. It is incredible.
It makes the ache inside a little easier when I think of her in heaven. Healed and whole. In the arms of Jesus, who’s showing her the universe.