Baby Ezekiel.

Our baby boy Ezekiel passed away 3 weeks ago. Lord the Father was there every minute of our suffering and cried with us. He knows it all as His only Son died for all of us.

‘God uses valleys, not bridges’ – Leif Hetland

On a beautiful day, 25th of August, God blessed Shaun and I. We became man and wife.

On the night of 26th of August God joined Shaun and I in 4 types of love – He was there, breathing His Spirit and life into an awesome gift He gives every married couple – the Incredible Oneness.

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Around 31st of August God created a soul. We didn’t know that just yet 🙂

On the 12th of September, another beautiful day, slightly nervous but trusting the Lord, we did a pregnancy test. I didn’t want to look, slightly scared (of it being negative), yet trusting His will. Shaun looked and said ‘Positive!’. Those two little lines were so overwhelming, the soul of the little one was tangibly present. All so sacred and beautiful. We cried. Overwhelmed with Love. 

Wow. God just gave us a brand new soul. The next few weeks were filled with joy, thankfulness, getting to know the little one, learning about the growth and development, hopes and dreams. We shared the joy with friends and family, waiting for the first scan to make it known to the rest of the world.

The pregnancy was easy. I was super sleepy, but without morning sickness, just enjoying the changes my body was going through, hosting the little one. God gave me a husband that enjoyed it all with me, falling deeper and deeper in love with the little one that was growing and mummy (that was growing too:)).

With faith and no fear, we let our hopes unfold. Bought a pram (or a baby tractor for our future outdoorsy adventures), a pregnancy pillow, first pregnancy leggings… Planned some big adventures, our proper honeymoon free from any craziness to protect the little one. So blessed, so thankful.

Don’t get me wrong, not everything was a bliss. Stress at work, some bigger arguments with the hubby, a couple of close falls, stress of the house refurbishment (mainly the hubby, of course!). But we were thankful. God was good (as always). 

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Monday 29th of November, another day at work, stressful and draining, but God was near. He gave hope and strength. I decided to bake (I know, unusual!) for a charity thing at work. I was baking and talking to my friend whilst Shaun was out playing football – an ok Monday evening. 

As I was praying for my friend on the phone, I felt as if I peed a bit (apparently normal in pregnancy, kind of ignored it then).  I finished the chat, went on to finish the cake. Felt a little pain.

Went to check what’s going on. Saw some blood. 

I immediately messaged Shaun, my midwife, searched online for answers.

Started praying. Texted my brother and friends, asked for prayer. I knew I needed prayer warriors.

Waiting for Shaun, nervous. It took a while for him to get back home. I rushed outside. No car keys, ambulance refused to come, no taxis available.

We finally managed to get to A&E. Questions, forms, waiting. A urine sample. A blood sample. A doctor that knew nothing and repeated that if it’s a miscarriage they wouldn’t be able to help. Then clarified: they wouldn’t help. 

More waiting. A specialist doctor. Blood results apparently ok. The test needs to be repeated in a day or two. Examination. Old blood. Could be nothing serious. No scan. NHS doesn’t do emergency scans. Booked for the next day 3 pm. 

Home.

I contacted my cousin who knew a great doctor in Warsaw. She talked about hormones that helped her. But no treatment here. Not yet. It was around midnight.  Some bleeding and pain. We went to sleep.

First thing in the morning we searched for a private scan, trying to organise something to find out what’s going on. With so many stories about the NHS, I did not want to risk, but act. Nothing was available.

More blood. More pain. We went back to A&E. Another doctor. Or so his title said. No compassion, no help, just a talk about statistics, cost benefit ratio, that the NHS’s policy doesn’t allow treatment, that nothing would be done; the doctor getting angry when pleaded for help and told about options available across Europe. One more plea: ‘could you check if there’s an earlier scan available?’. ‘No’.

We fought. Prayed. Went to ask for a scan, searched for private clinics, called the doctor in Warsaw, my brother looked for flights to fly over with medicine that over here is considered not worth an investment.

Croydon. We ended up in a private clinic. Emergency appointment with a scan. The doctor very switched on, assessing the situation quickly, noticing the blood results given to us were wrongly analysed, the pregnancy hormone very low, alarming. A scan. 

The doctor says: ’It’s a miscarriage’.

 The saddest words.

As the doctor explained more, the Lord was holding me by my hand. (Isaiah 41:13)

The baby stopped growing at around 5.5 weeks. I was nearly 11 weeks pregnant. A big growing amnionic sack and tiny 3mm baby.

Tears. Doctors comforting words. Practical advice on what to do to have a better chance for a baby in the future. 

A drive home.

And that cry to God…

Shaun was angry. Questioning the almighty God on why He allowed it.

Then: Home. Prayer. Trusting God. He was so near. Understanding our tears. Bringing us peace. Showing us that the little one is with Him. Safe. Happy. For eternity. Skipping the pain of this world, the danger of the realm of evil.  

I went into labour around 6 pm on Wednesday 31st of October. 6 hours of agony. Bleeding, throwing up, pain. On our bed, with my husband holding my hand, me squeezing his with every contraction. I begged The Lord to stop it, I couldn’t take it anymore. Whilst the pain was horrid, I knew He was with me. Feeling the pain, giving me moments of rest but knowing I had to go through it. He was fighting for me.

I finally gave birth to ‘sadness’, as my husband called it. ‘Sadness’ I held in my hands. 

I knew the horror of it allowed us to truly understand what happened. We trusted God that He wanted our full healing. Living through this, feeling the pain, not sweeping it under the carpet. Pain shows us where we need healing. So we welcomed the horror of it all and the pain, surrendering to Him.

On Thursday we decided to have a little farewell. We didn’t like the word ‘funeral’. 

We prayed and gave thanksgiving for our baby’s life and forever in Heaven with our Father, the best father he can have.

I decided it was a good day to pray in tongues out-loud. I could feel all the angels joining in prayer. Heaven came to earth.

In the last days of pregnancy, I felt it’s a boy. Shaun felt it was a boy. My brother had the same feeling. We called him Ezekiel. Like the promise God gave us when He was saving Shaun and me, making us one (marriage) – Ezekiel 47:12. A strong name, a big name. One we were thinking of giving to our son, one that someday would be a great man of God, an awesome person. We were afraid to let go… But we knew our first child deserved this great name. We honoured him with it.

We’re healing now. And we know we have the greatest Healer. Broken hopes get healed with the Father’s love.

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I wrote this post in honour of our baby Ezie, all women and men that have lost their Ezekiels, all women who went through a labour to deliver ‘sadness’, and in honour of our forever faithful Father in Heaven who’s keeping our baby safe and showered with Love.