Letter from Melissa Blanton

My dearest sisters,

Eight months after we got married, I took a pregnancy test at 3 am. It was positive. Although my husband was amazingly supportive of our NFP journey, NFP was my idea. And we weren’t trying to conceive that month! After four hours of panicked Hail Marys, I finally nudged my husband, Taylor, awake (silently sending up one last prayer that he would receive the news well!). He was overjoyed!

Our 20-week ultrasound was on June 8, 2017. We were giddy to find out we were having a boy. But the mood in the room quickly shifted as the technician seemed distracted as the ultrasound progressed. She left the room with “the doctor will be in shortly with some very serious things to discuss”.

The doctor joined us, did another ultrasound, and began to hint at some life-limiting complications. After an hour of images, we were heartbroken. Right hypoplastic heart syndrome. No pulmonary artery. Enlarged heart. No room for the lungs to develop.

Taylor and I had some serious discussions about our son and our path forward. First and foremost, we knew our faith and trust were in God and His plan. As challenging as the thought was (and still is), our baby boy was always God’s child first, and ours, second. Next, he needed a name. We went through many options but kept coming back to two names in particular. We loved the name and the reason behind it. The physician apostle, and the archangel fighter, the leader of God’s army. Luke Michael.

We met with a pediatric cardiologist in late July and had a good but difficult conversation. We'd known for a while that Luke had a tough diagnosis. Despite some doctors and nurses attempting to be sensitive to our situation, we were able to put two and two together in that our chances of spending more than a few moments with, if even getting to meet, Luke, were quite slim. But on this day, that information was confirmed. While it was incredibly difficult, heart-wrenching, and painful to hear, we knew we were already on the path towards a peace that only God could provide. While nothing was certain, we continued to believe in (and hope for) a miracle. We trusted whatever God had in store for us.

As long as Luke was in utero, he was safe and growing, and we continued to pray for his healing and his lung growth (the limiting factor for his survival)! It was surreal at times how life continued on as normal, even as our world had been irrevocably altered.

Part of me wanted to stay pregnant forever so we could keep him safe and healthy. I often reflected on and tried to draw strength from Mary's life and her "yes" to God. There were many nights of tears and I hated not knowing how this story would end. God always found big and small ways to constantly remind us, however difficult, that we were never alone in this journey.

“Life isn't fair" crossed my mind more times than I'd like to admit during pregnancy. Too often I'd be jealous of other women's "normal" pregnancies...the gender reveal parties...the baby showers...the glowing baby bump pictures. And to be honest, this is still a struggle. I wanted to be able to join the masses posting social-media-worthy photographic evidence of my #blessed life. But for what? The comments and likes? To prove that God loves me? By diving into Scripture and spending time in Adoration, I could remind myself that God was walking with me in my suffering. My pain and struggle had purpose. I wasn’t being punished for any past sins, and He loves me fiercely and has good plans for my life. (Sometimes those plans take years to take shape - Sarah waited decades to have Issac!) I found that with God’s grace, I could genuinely share in others joy.

With one month left in the pregnancy, I experienced every emotion on the wide spectrum of possible emotions. Fear. Excitement. Dread. Elation. Anxiety. Hope. Taylor and I had found a new normal in the "limbo" we had been in. And while not always the most pleasant, we had found peace and comfort in the unknown. And yet, we were now standing on the cusp of "the future." Although I have previously said I'd have loved to stay pregnant forever if it meant keeping Luke healthy and alive...that was never a real possibility. It was time to take another leap of faith...and trust that God would be there to catch us. We continued the prayer that Taylor and I remained steadfast in our hope - and would remember to place our trust completely in God's hands!

Luke Michael was born at approximately 4:25am on November 16, 2017. His daddy baptized him immediately. He gave one little squeak which brought tears of joy and a “Praise God!” from me. He was immediately taken to the NICU where he spent 31 days of life. We were told that a journey in the NICU would be like a dance - two steps forward, three steps back. We celebrated the milestones and the small victories when they’d happen (like changing Luke's diaper for the first time!). I held Luke for the first time on Thanksgiving Day. I believe that experience was probably the closest I’ll get to Heaven here on Earth.

Taylor had some profound words that stayed with me during our NICU time. We had so many people praying for Luke and his healing...and maybe we were looking for a big miracle...but in reality, Luke's life was a series of small miracles, illustrating the goodness of our God. With time, Luke’s body began to show fatigue. Taylor and I had consistently said that we wanted to prolong life, not suffering, in our attempt to save our son. After discussions with our medical team, it was decided that Luke was beyond the help of modern medicine. We would wean Luke off his oxygen, extubate him, make him comfortable and let him go home to God. Luke was given the sacraments of Anointing of the Sick and Confirmation the day before his last.

The medical team expected we would have one to two hours with Luke once he was extubated. Miraculously, we were blessed with over eight hours before Luke went home to his Heavenly Father on December 17, 2017. Eight hours of cuddles and skin to skin. We sang and read books. We told funny stories from when Taylor and I were dating. We laughed and we cried. My biggest fear was being traumatized by Luke’s birth. But in the end, his last moments were calm and peaceful. Luke took his last breath in my arms, with Taylor next to me rubbing his back. His death was truly a holy moment with a palpable sense of God’s presence in that harshly lit, sterile NICU room. We still marvel at how the memories from that day are colored with more joy and peace than grief, another small miracle our God gifted us during this journey.

I’m mentally prepared to walk through the waves of emotions on the anniversaries that mark Luke’s life. However, it’s the unexpected reminders that can bring tears to my eyes: a pregnancy announcement, hearing the name “Luke,” a toddler that crosses my path. In normal small talk, asking someone if they have kids is an innocent question. I have rehearsed a variety of answers to this question, but when I do share our story, the compassion, empathy and love shown (sometimes by complete strangers!) is a manifestation of God’s love here on Earth. Grief is woven into my daily life. Bereaved. But so are vivid examples of God’s love for me. Beloved. Bereaved and Beloved daily. My own experiences help me remember that others I meet may be carrying a secret, heavy burden. To be loved, dearly loved, and surrounded by love sustained us in our darkest moments. I strive to do that for others I meet in daily life. To be more kind, patient, empathetic on a minute by minute basis can be life changing to someone you encounter. Even briefly. Beloved by others. Beloved by our God. Beloved. This is the name God has placed on my heart as I navigate life after loss. This is who I am as His daughter. It’s a name he gave me a couple years ago on a name tag at a mini retreat that one of my girlfriends put together. He planted the seed years ago, but it didn’t feel like “mine” until now. Another one of God’s small miracles in my life. He helped me to reach a point of peace after Luke’s death. He kept me from despairing and falling into a period of depression. I don’t have all the answers to the “why’s” but my heart isn’t striving for them. I know that I am exactly where I need to be in life. That He has not forgotten about the longings of my heart. That I am incredibly and deeply loved by my God. His Beloved.

With love,

Melissa