Eli Was Not a Storm

We have always said if we ever had another baby, he or she would not be referred to as our Rainbow Baby. "After every storm there comes a rainbow" is a common phrase we have heard used in pregnancy announcements following a miscarriage or stillbirth.  

Let me clarify: we aren't offended by this statement, if someone chooses to use it. It is a terrible thing to experience the loss of a baby. Some might say, it is a storm. If choosing to call your baby or child a rainbow baby brings you peace, then that is great. I am happy that you are happy. 

We choose to not think of Eli and the events surrounding his life and death a storm. We believe that Having Eli in our lives for even a short time is a blessing. 

Eli, my son, by God's grace, your existence has done wonderful things in our lives. While I do not believe that you died to teach us a lesson or for our benefit whatsoever, the fact that you lived even for a short time has given us more joy than we could have imagined. 

You made us parents. From the day I saw those two lines on the pregnancy stick, I knew that you were not simply my "fetus", you were my baby. Your father and I were overjoyed and looked forward to meeting you face to face from the moment we knew about you. 

You gave us something to be excited about. We couldn't wait to hold you in our arms. Daddy bonded with you and talked to you every night. The day we went from feeling your kicks to physically seeing them was so strange. It was as if you were communicating with us from inside my tummy. Every time I would ask if you were a boy, you answered with a kick, so even though we did not find out your gender at our ultrasound, we had a good idea that you were a "son". 

And when you passed away, we experienced unimaginable sadness. How we could be so devastated to lose someone we hadn't held in our arms just yet? We couldn't comprehend it, until the day you were born and we finally laid eyes on our beautiful baby boy. Your mouth curled up like your Daddy's; your little hands looked just like Mommy's when she was born. We felt that you resembled your cousin Owen when he was a baby. 

When we buried you the next day, we were still sad, but God had given us peace; a peace that passes all understanding. We finally understood the meaning of our new favorite verse in Philippians. 

Five months later, we are still mourning losing you. We are sad that we can't hold you and watch you grow. We have no idea what you will look like when we see you again in Heaven, but we know that you are safe in the arms of Jesus. 

Your Daddy and I are closer now than we have ever been. We have had to lean on each other more. We are closer to God than we have ever been, and he has been showing us each day that his grace knows no bounds. 

Eli, you are not a storm. You were brought into our life for a season, and what a season it was. You are here in our hearts now and always.