she is His.

In the loss mama world, the phrase "rainbow baby" comes up a lot. This refers to a child born after suffering a loss of their sibling. Like many other mothers, I struggled with embracing this phrase during my pregnancy with Xavier's little sister. I didn't want to seem like I was rejoicing in this pregnancy and labeling my pregnancy with him as a "storm" or a failure. Losing Xavier has been and continues to be one of the hardest things I've faced in my life, but I experience joy alongside the sorrow, as he is my first child, the one who made me a mama. Yes, I would much rather have him here with us, approaching his second birthday and the dreaded "terrible twos." But he's not. As we watch Ezra continue to grow and meet new milestones, my heart aches for him even more, wondering what could have been had he held off on entering the world just 3 weeks more. Still, my heart fills with joy when I remember my boy, and the gift his little life has been to me.

Now that Ezra Joy is here, one would think I would be filled with hope and excitement at the prospect of bringing a living baby home. Those emotions are there for sure, but they are mingled with doubt, fear, anxiety and so many questions:

• Why didn't the cerclage hold for longer? 
• Did the progesterone shots not work effectively?
• What made my water break so early--again? 
• Why does the medical community have such (seemingly) arbitrary standards on when a baby is old enough to try and resuscitate versus when it is ok to terminate? 
• If Ezra lives, will she be our only living child? 
• Do I want to try again with a more involved cervical surgery? (answer today: NO.) 
• What if she dies...will that change my mind? 
• How long will we she be in the NICU? 
• What hurdles are coming up that we aren't even aware about right now?

I could go on and on. But here's where I end up settling each time my mind starts to go in a tailspin. Although Ezra Joy is equal parts me and Victor, she does not belong to us. She is not owed to me. She is not the baby I've earned after living as a good Christian girl since Xavier died. She is not a granted wish or reward from Santa Claus Jesus. Though we love her dearly and are so thrilled she is still with us, she is not the ultimate good and we cannot put our hope in her survival. She belongs to the Lord, and he provides hope and all things capital-G Good. 

More than anything the Lord is teaching me--through both of my children--that he cannot be a means to an end. He is the end, the beginning, and everything in between and He has our daughter--our whole family even--right in the palm of his hand. Having a baby that literally could fit in the palm of her daddy's hand makes this phrase so much more illuminated. I carried her for 24 weeks in my womb, but the Lord has held her in his hands from even before her conception. Nothing has caught him off guard about her entrance into the world. 

I've thought often about the biblical account of Hannah, who prayed for a child and then gave him over to the Lord:

I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted me what I asked of him. So now I give [her] to the Lord. For [her] whole life [she] will be given over to the Lord.--1 Samuel 1:27-28 

This is my prayer for Ezzi. That her whole life--no matter how long or short--would be given to the Lord, for she is His. 

And what a good Papa he is.