Faith over fear

A few days after her birth, our hero, Isabella, had to get under the blue lights to work on her bilirubin levels with doctors and nurses in NICU. 

 By Missy Enaje

I had to do a courageous thing today. 

It's a significant day for my family and I because today marks the three-year wedding anniversary for Isabella's parents, my husband and I. 

June 25 marks nearly 10 years since my Lola, or grandmother in Tagalog, was called to heaven, and it marks six months since our sweet babygirl was also called to heaven. Phew. 

The courageous thing I did today was head to the hospital where I delivered Isabella to drop off a breastmilk pump that I was renting from the hospital. The Medela Symphony has been the connecting unit that not only allowed me to pump milk for my baby girl when she was alive, but it continued to be the device that allowed me to continue pumping for the Milk Bank, which uses donor milk for sick babies in the hospital. 

It was bittersweet because today marked the significant end of that exclusively pumping journey: two months with her and six months without. I wouldn't change it for a thing because this is how I write my story as a mother. I didn't know I was going to return the device exactly today but I had it in my car trunk for when the opportunity arose. Technically, I also didn't want to get charged to use the device for another month when I had weaned completely off the pump. 

Before I made it to the hospital, I prayed that I would have the Lord's strength with me and I asked for my Isabella to pray for her mommy. On my way to the drop off, I felt that gut feeling again. I knew I was going to cry at all the memories resurfacing by just being in the hospital where Isabella spent her entire life outside of my womb, from start to finish. 

Just how the Lord orchestrates life's little moments, out of one of the doors pops out the lactation consultant who I met with on Isabella's final day on earth. On that day, I told her that I would be closing my account for the hospital and we hugged and cried and shared precious moments together. Well, she popped out from lunch and I was so overjoyed to see her! She actually said she was thinking about me and my daughter when she was training a new consultant! I told her we were meant to meet once again. We hugged and cried and shared that precious moment together. 

Thank you, Lord. You gave me such encouragement when I needed it the most, through the words of that lactation consultant—how you placed her in my path was by no mistake. So I give thanks for the words of support, for a gentle touch and hug on a day that seems so mundane on the outside, but felt as huge as the planet itself for me. Thank you for giving that to me out of your love for me. 

Faith over fear. This hospital used to scare me because it was so traumatic at times. I remember all the sonograms, the specialists, the counselors, oh my. I am a mother who lived and grieved through what it means to have a medically-fragile baby. It taught me that pregnancy is not linear, for A does not equal B. Just because someone announces something, doesn't mean they will see it through. I bear the burden of knowledge knowing nothing is guaranteed. Everything in between is such a blessing. To go home with a healthy baby, my God, what a gift. I know it's not easy to be a parent and many complaints can be in that mix. We're all just human. But what I would give to have another second with my baby. 

It just wasn't in our story. God didn't have it this way. I have accepted that there was nothing any doctor on this earth could heal to the effect that God, our eternal healer, can do. Isabella is free from suffering and pain. How can I not give thanks? It doesn't mean I don't suffer, but it just puts perspective on this suffering. I align it with all the loss families around the world and all the families choosing to say YES to carrying a child who is considered medically-fragile. They are almost always suggested to terminate! I cannot speak on any parent and how they choose to make that hard decision, but seeing Isabella make her mark in this world will always be the greatest honor in my life. 

So I walk into this place that caused me so much worry and anxiety and I choose faith over fear. My suffering is not in vain. 

Lastly, thinking about my wedding anniversary today. The words "through sickness and health, till death do us part" that my husband and I said to each other at the altar—I couldn't have prayed for a better partner to walk this life with. I think of that woman in the wedding video. Is she me still? So much has changed. There was so much joy in that day. Everyone who came and all the love they've shown us, it does make me smile. 

Our story isn't over. In memory of Isabella 💙