When my husband and I found out we were expecting our third baby in March of 2017, we were thrilled! We had two beautiful boys and couldn't wait to add to our family with this last baby and make it complete. Our sons, who were 4 and 2 at the time, were very excited for a new baby too!
My pregnancy progressed normally, and at our mid-pregnancy ultrasound we found out we were having a girl! We were over the moon! What a perfect way to round out our family; we would have our two boys who would protect and look out for their little sister. We were so excited to announce the gender of our baby, and we decided on a name which we wanted to keep a secret until she was born: Chloe Christine.
Towards the end of my pregnancy, my blood pressure began to creep up as it had with my boys, so an induction date was set for Monday, October 31st at 37 weeks. Late Thursday night, I was folding laundry, and couldn't recall the last time I had felt our so far very active little girl move. I figured she was getting big and it was getting crowded in there and she was probably just tired. I went to bed. At about 1 AM Friday morning, I woke up and tried to get her to move again. Nothing. I drank some juice. Nothing. I finally woke up my husband in a panic. My in-laws came to stay with our boys and we headed in to the hospital. I frantically tried to get her to move on the way there, the dread growing in my heart as my efforts proved futile and I felt nothing.
When we got to triage, the nurse tried to find a heartbeat. She couldn't. At this point I was panicking. A doctor came in with an ultrasound, and he tried to block my view, but I saw...and I knew. There was our perfect baby, who just that morning had passed her non-stress test with flying colors, lying motionless. No heartbeat. I broke down. My husband asked if there was anything we could do. There wasn't. She was gone. To say we were devastated doesn't even begin to cover what we felt. My husband had to call our parents, and I will never forget having to watch him tell them that their granddaughter was already in heaven.
I was induced Friday morning, and Chloe Christine was born at 8:50 on October 27th, 2017 weighing 6 lbs 2 oz. She was perfect. When we held her, it was hard to come to terms with the fact that she wasn't just a sleeping baby. My husband and I held her, prayed over her, and said our goodbyes.
Leaving the hospital without her felt impossible. Coming home to her ultrasound pictures on the fridge and her dresser full of pink clothes she would never wear was awful. But telling her excited, expectant big brothers that their long-awaited baby sister would be spending her whole life in heaven instead of with us was gut wrenching. Our younger son didn't truly get it then, but the look on our older boy's face when he realized what we were saying was utterly heartbreaking. Chloe's memorial service was a week later, and we buried her urn in our church's beautiful garden next to the tree we planted in her memory. I often look out the window during Sunday Bible studies at her tree and think of our girl.
We celebrated Chloe's first birthday in October, and her little sister, our rainbow, was here to celebrate with us. She definitely helps with some of the pain of losing Chloe, but she in no way replaces her big sister. We talk about Chloe every day with our children, and our boys like to blow her kisses up to heaven. They ask about her and when we will get to see her in heaven, and we talk about what she might be like. Her big brothers love her just as the would if she were here with us, and her little sister will grow up knowing what a blessing and how loved her big sister is.
While we miss our daughter and think of her every day, we rejoice in the fact that she is with her Savior Jesus Christ in heaven because of the sacrifice of His own life he made for all believers. We rejoice in the fact that Chloe never knew pain, sickness, cold, or sadness. When she opened her little eyes, the first face she saw was Jesus. We know she is in the best place possible, safe and whole, and we can't wait until our joyous reunion with our first daughter someday in Paradise.