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A Neonatal Story
Losing our baby was no easy thing and knowing God at such a time helped immensely. Thankfully we were able to find purpose in our pain through his grace that kept us.
Our daughter went to heaven seven hours after birth, but she lived a complete life. What is a complete life? Completion may mean something different to each of us. Is it a life spanning nearly a century, a decade, or even less? Who can truly define what a complete life is? Can losing our baby still mean that this little soul has lived a complete life? Let me tell you about our baby Anel’s seven months, and seven-hour journey.
Anel was born at seven months gestation, lived for seven hours, and then went on to be with the Lord.
There are many instances in God’s word, where the number seven stands out. In the book of Genesis, Chapter 1, we read that God’s work with creation is complete by day seven, and then he rests. In the book of Joshua, Chapter 6, we read God’s instructions to Joshua about marching around the city seven times on the seventh day. Spiritually, the number seven symbolizes completion or perfection, and for Anel’s life, it signifies that her mission on earth was clearly fulfilled. We believe that our daughter’s life was complete because her purpose was complete.—a purpose that has inspired and blessed people around the world.
Planning Our Family
Before we tied the knot (literally), my husband and I planned for two babies. After having the first, I wanted ten! Who was I kidding, right? I guess you could say that for a while, babymoon gave me a reason to forget every painful moment throughout my pregnancy. The idea of a noisy home also sounded good, and we both wanted to have a second baby.
Bun In The Oven
Discovering we were expecting another child was truly exhilarating news. The thought of welcoming another baby into our lives filled us with joy, despite the prospect of sleepless nights, backaches, and the possibility of another carpal tunnel flare-up. None of these concerns mattered to us because we were on the brink of experiencing double the smiles and laughter. We were over the moon, especially knowing that our son, who would turn three later that year, would soon have his Christmas wish fulfilled with a little brother or sister.
This pregnancy was planned, and we eagerly anticipated the arrival of our new bundle of joy. With the knowledge that we were now expecting, we embarked on our prenatal journey with excitement and gratitude, ready to embrace all the moments and milestones that awaited us.
The Bumpy Roads That Lead To Us Losing Our Baby
During my pregnancy in 2018, the islands were still grappling with the aftermath of Hurricanes Irma and Maria from the previous year. We relocated multiple times, and if you have experienced moving, you understand the challenges it poses, particularly for an expectant mother. My daily commute to work involved navigating long, pothole-ridden roads, which made the journey arduous. Despite often feeling unwell, I remained resolute and continued to work, motivated by the example of my pregnant colleagues who had successfully endured similar hardships to reach full-term pregnancies. Their perseverance inspired me to press forward with determination.
Warning Signs: Were We Losing Our Baby?
I was hospitalized in June of 2018; the details of that day remain foggy, but I recall spending the night in the ER. I had no abdominal aches, but there was some very light bleeding. Fast forward to the middle of August that same year, and I again found myself in the ER due to heavier and darker bleeding. Aside from being a little nervous about needles at the time, my vitals were fine. Our baby was healthy and growing well; or so it seemed. Although we did not think of losing our baby, these ER trips may have been warning signs.
A Ruptured Membrane: The Day My Water Broke
September 19th, 2018, was a sunny day. I began my usual morning routine, savoring breakfast and preparing for the workday ahead. Being late for the ferry service, I rushed towards the dock. Around 10:00 am, en route to a town hall meeting, a strong urge to urinate overcame me, so I hurried to the ladies’ room. It felt like an eternity in the restroom. As the scent of amniotic fluid filled the air, I realized THIS WASN’T URINE—my water had broken, and I was only 26 weeks along.
I sought assistance from a colleague (THANK YOU NAJ!)who kindly drove me to the hospital, where I met my husband, already waiting. The medical team acted swiftly in the ER. A thorough examination confirmed what I had feared: a ruptured membrane. Although a premature birth was inevitable, the doctor remained optimistic. Even then, we never thought about losing our baby. There was still some amniotic fluid left, and our baby girl was alive. There were younger preemies in the NICU and they were doing well, so we were positive.
A recent survey had also shown that local moms who went into premature labor from twenty-five weeks had an 80 to 95% chance of taking home a baby. While our preemie would need to stay in the NICU for some time, we believed everything would work out. We were hopeful. I was hopeful! The doctor explained that baby Anel could remain in the womb for a few more weeks, but I needed to strictly adhere to bed rest orders. I was admitted to the maternity ward, where I would remain until she arrived.
Enduring The Discomfort
I had never been in the hospital for such an extended period. The doctors, nurses, and other caretakers did everything they could to ensure my comfort, but the discomfort was palpable. Wearing compression stockings to prevent blood clots was uncomfortable. Since I could only lie on my left side, that side became extremely tender. I felt confined, as moving caused the remaining amniotic fluid to seep out slowly.
The Daily Surrender To Clexane
The daily poking of needles all over my body was driving me crazy; blood tests, medicated shots, and two doses of Clexane became a daily routine. My stomach was the designated spot for the Clexane. If you’re familiar with this type of medication, then you would agree that this was daily torture. Clexane works to thin the blood, reducing the risk of blood clots; however, when administered, it causes a painfully intense burning sensation. Can you imagine receiving two doses of this anticoagulant daily for two weeks? Mercy!
After just a few days, I began feeling quite withdrawn. My discomfort was at an all-time high, and I missed my family terribly. Sometimes I smiled, and sometimes I cried. IT WAS ROUGH! Strict bed rest meant limitations; lying on one side led to backaches, waist pain, leg cramps, and that annoying tennis elbow. I was unable to take a normal shower or sit up to eat comfortably. Walking to the window to look at the ocean or even the sunset was impossible. The feeling was overwhelming.
There were so many ‘negatives,’ but God knows, I was thankful for the positive. I had life and so did baby Anel. I knew that enduring the discomfort was a sacrifice for her chance at a healthier, normal life.
Putting Faith Over Fear
Hebrews 11:1 – Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. Without faith in God, we would not have survived this time. I remained on bed rest from September 19th to October 1st, all the while trusting God to fulfill His will; whether His will was to take her to heaven or keep her on earth, it would be done.
Sometimes our prayers and expectations may not align with God’s will, but His word is true. Romans 8:28 – And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose. We may have prayed for Anel to live, but the Lord knows what was best for our family. His will is final.
The world says to expect the unexpected or leave room for disappointment. I say pray, then expect and accept that God has the final say. God was completing a work in us to give us that expected end. The world tells us to look at ‘the now’ when faced with circumstances, but God’s truth says to focus on eternity and enduring the race.
Our faith in God should help us overcome fear and look past what seems to be the darkest moments. God is in control, and He knows what is best for our lives. My experience was traumatic, and I knew that I was fighting a spiritual war. I remembered God’s word that this battle was His and not mine; once I accepted this and allowed God to work, I witnessed faith’s victory. I faced my fears with faith and overwhelmed them with grace and praise!
Day Ten: A Visit Worth More Than Diamonds
By day ten, baby Anel was doing well, but I longed deeply for my family, especially my son. I needed to smell his hair and play with his little fingers; I just had to see his smile and feel his presence. Although children were not allowed on the ward, the head nurse made a compassionate exception after I pleaded. That visit truly meant more than diamonds to me. Our son knew that mommy was in the hospital because she was not feeling well, but he did not understand the severity of the situation. His presence brought tears of joy and reminded me of the beautiful gift of family—a blessing to be eternally grateful for.
A Long And Cold Night: Symptoms Of An Infection
On September 30th, baby Anel did not move much, and while I thought this was understandable, I also noticed a change in my body. I felt feeble. Later that evening, it got worse as cold sweat took over. I vividly remember asking the night nurse on three different occasions for blankets. Each time, she brought a hot (not warm) blanket, but I was still cold. By morning, my condition had worsened. Losing our baby girl was not a thought at that time. It was evident that Anel would be a preemie, but we leaned towards having a healthy preemie. This, however, was not the case.
I was impatient for the sunrise that morning. When it finally appeared, the nurse prepared me for delivery. It all unfolded quickly. The doctor came in to discuss what was happening, and sure enough, after keeping her inside for a little over two weeks, I developed an infection. They were not going to take any chances. An infection meant life or death for the both of us, so they wanted her out as soon as possible. The nurse administered oxytocin at different levels throughout the morning to speed up contractions, and by 3:15 pm that day, baby Anel was born.
Between 9:00 am and 3:00 pm, I experienced a traumatic ordeal while in labor. There were constant vaginal checks and full-force contractions—two intense and dreadful processes that give new meaning to any pregnant woman’s pain if she is not on medication or has had an epidural. I believe that everyone in the OB ward at the time heard my screams. At 3:00 pm, a midwife wheeled me to the delivery room, and with one push, baby Anel arrived. Yes, the actual delivery was quick.
Our Baby Was Born
Baby Anel did not make a fuss when she was born. She seemed like a normal baby, but just smaller. We missed a few precious moments as the medical team tried to stabilize her. There was no time to put her on my chest for even a second of bonding. I barely caught a glimpse of her—all I saw was a head full of hair.
Present in the delivery room were my doctor, a pediatrician, and two midwives, along with my husband at my side. They placed baby Anel in a bassinet, hooked her up to some tubes, and immediately moved her to the NICU. A few minutes later, my husband and I followed. The pediatrician briefed us, and it was at that time we realized that we may have been losing our baby.
We watched, cried, and prayed as our precious baby girl fought for her life. We were sad that she had come so soon, but there was still a sense of peace that no matter what happened, everything would be okay. Our faith in God made accepting the situation so much easier.
Our Baby Passed On
Anel’s little body lay lifelessly in the incubator. Her heartbeat was irregular; sometimes it surged to several beats a minute, then plummeted back to just a few. An x-ray revealed that she was unable to breathe on her own because her lungs were not fully developed. The hospital also lacked the resources to help her. It was apparent to the medical staff that her survival depended on a miracle. We did not get a miracle that day, and our little bundle passed on.
God Fought Our Battle And Grace Won
I wanted to hold our little princess, but I could not. We were able to touch her through a hole in the incubator. At one point, I felt a rush of anxiousness as I played with her tiny hands and feet, but my husband’s warm hands on my shoulders, along with his prayers, set that anxiousness to rest. We accepted God’s will for our lives at that moment. Prayers went up, and God’s grace came down. We thanked God for sending Anel and for whatever her purpose was. It felt like a battlefield, but we knew that God was with us.
The moment came when we had to let go and allow the pediatrician and medical examiner to take over. We cried. Of course, we would have preferred to leave the hospital with a bouncing baby girl. We trusted God and believed that no matter what happened, we would be okay. We had to accept that His grace was sufficient for us.
Intercessory Prayer and Support After Losing Our Baby
We know that many people prayed—family, friends, and strangers. We will be forever grateful. Those who visited often, we love you. Those who sent their words of encouragement, we heard you. The love and support you showed after losing our baby were overwhelming. It was part of God’s plan all along, to help us get through it. Thank you for the flowers, the food, the hairdos, and the gifts you blessed us with. We felt God’s love through you and we appreciate you.
Losing Our Baby Girl Was The Beginning of Another Testimony
In losing our baby, God ended one chapter of our lives and started another. After witnessing our faith and how we handled the situation, twelve nurses visited our place of worship. My thoughts exactly? If God could call one life home to save or witness to twelve other lives, then why not? This was just the beginning. We were able to share Anel’s story with many people. Some were mothers who had gone through a similar experience, and others were individuals who needed to hear of God’s grace. I was able to share our story on K-Love Radio, and I am certain that out of the billions who listen daily, someone must have heard, and was blessed.
Finding Purpose In Losing Our Baby Girl
This experience and the journey of motherhood have inspired me to tell folks about God’s grace. I have conversed with other moms who believe that suicide or other deceptive forms of relief that the enemy proposes are the best resolve, but he is a liar. I pray that Anel’s story continues to reach and touch hearts, and God be praised. He began a good work with her, in us, and He will complete it, for He is faithful, He is true, and His word is final.
Philippians 1:6 Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.
Thank you for reading Anel’s Story, ‘Losing Our Baby’. If you have gone through the loss of a child, know that you are not alone and remember, sorrows last but for the night. There is a Joy that comes in the morning. I have witnessed it and I am happy to share my Joy with you in this post, God’s Faithfulness In A Time Of Tribulation.
