Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Celeste's Birth Story

At first, I hadn't planned on sharing Celeste's story. At least not publicly.  As the days have gone on, though, my heart has changed.  As we've traveled the hard road of grief in the last week, I have been blessed by the stories of other moms who have walked this walk.  If Celeste's story can comfort  another woman carrying this cross, I will gladly put aside my pain for the blessings I pray our story holds.

As I sit about to write Celeste's birth story, I struggle to think of the words to best describe that night.  I have gone over it a thousand times in my head, thought about how to explain the emotions, the tears, but most of all the love of that night.  I guess the only way to start is to start. Here goes.

On Monday, February 11th around lunchtime at work I noticed very faint pink spotting.  I immediately called my doctor's office and left a message for the medical assistant wondering if I should come in. She called me back around 4 pm and said my doctor would like to see me the next morning, unless anything drastically changed.  By this time I was not experiencing cramps and the spotting had stopped. Thankful for the improvement, I finished up my day and headed home.  I remember calling Kemi to let him know I was on my way. I didn't want to worry him, so I told him what the doctor had said but assured him it was probably nothing and not to worry.  Things began to change however once I was home.  I began feeling the faintest cramps every now and then, but they really weren't painful and felt more like the round ligament pain so common in pregnancy.  As the evening wore on, the cramps began to increase in intensity. Around 8 pm, I was a little concerned so I called the on-call doctor.  She said false contractions can usually be corrected by drinking a lot of water and resting. She said to drink at least a liter of water, and if they hadn't gone away in a few hours, to head to the ER.  I drank a ton of water, and tried to go to bed. I remember pouring over The Mayo Clinic Guide to a Healthy Pregnancy trying to determine if what I was experiencing was normal or not.  The day I came home it brought tears to my eyes and stopped me in my tracks just seeing that book lying open on our bed.

By 9 pm, I was having such intense pains, I had tears in my eyes and finally came to Kemi and said I wanted to go the the ER.  My sister came right over and we headed out. Kemi decided to go to the nearest hospital, rather than the one our doctor practices out of. I remember telling Kemi in the car that I just KNEW they were going to tell me I was pushing it too hard and put me on bed rest and how annoyed I'd be if I couldn't work.  At the time, that was the worst possible scenario.

We arrived in the ER and were taken to labor and delivery.  We were put in a room and I was attached to a monitor to measure the contractions.  The nurse came back after an hour and said the OB on call wanted to do an ultrasound, but there were several in line for ultrasounds.  we waited another hour through pretty intense contractions before the ultrasound technician arrived.  After the ultrasound, the doctor did a pelvic exam. Seconds after examining me, she pulled away from the table and, expressionless and with no feeling in her voice coldly said "all I can see is a bulging bag of waters. You're going to deliver tonight."  I remember my breath catching in my throat. I murmured "ok" trying to keep my voice strong for Kemi.

We were transferred to a delivery room where I was put on medications to stop the contractions. A catheter was put in, since I was now restricted to the bed.  They tilted the bed so my head was pointed to the floor, trying to put gravity on my side.  We wished we were at the hospital our doctor worked in. At this hospital, there was nothing he could do. He had no privileges here, and we felt uneasy with a team of doctors we had never met.  Kemi felt such guilt that he hadn't driven across town to the hospital where we delivered Evie.  Had we done that, I told him, my water could have broken in the car. We got to the hospital and got the medication we needed, and fast.  We did the best we knew, I assured him.

As the medication took effect and the contractions began to fade, the doctors informed us that our situation was going to go one of two ways: either we'd deliver tonight or in the next few days, with little chance of the baby surviving, or we could be in the hospital for 4, 5, 6 weeks, waiting.  I felt my stomach turn in knots. Weeks?! I can't be here for weeks, I told them. I have a ten month old at home who needs me. Right now this baby needs you, they told me. I felt sick. If I remained longer in the hospital, Celeste could continue to grow stronger. But how could I go weeks without rocking Evie to sleep? Giving her a bath? She would forget me, I was convinced.  Hot, fat tears rolled down my cheeks. My shoulders started to shake.  The doctors wouldn't allow me to eat or drink anything, and I remember my mouth was so dry, my lips cracked and bleeding. The medication that stopped my contractions gave me double vision and made my body feel like a brick, and it was difficult to even raise my arms off the bed on my own. Because of this, I was unable to independently roll from side to side, and even if I could, I was so afraid to, for fear of causing my water to break. Every two or three hours my tailbone was throbbing and we had to call the nurse to have her come and carefully move me to a different side.

Looking back now, I remember nothing from that night. I know we slept on and off.  Thank goodness for the medication or I wouldn't have slept a wink.  The nurses brought in a cot for Kemi, and I was finally able to convince him to lay down and try to get a few hours of sleep.   Through the night we kept saying it felt like a dream. A terrible, terrible dream.  It seemed like something that would happen to somebody else: I could picture Kemi getting a text message to pray for someone, him telling me about so-and-so's baby, and how I would react. Sitting on the couch, shaking my head, "I can't imagine" I would say.  "We'll be praying for you" he would text back.  But it wasn't somebody else's baby. It was us. Our baby. I pictured our story being told in our friends houses. Our friends, sitting on their couch in the comfort of their living rooms. Shaking their heads, "I can't imagine," they'd say to each other. I cried harder. Why us?

Morning finally came and the day dragged on.  We prayed, we cried. We saw doctors and nurses change shifts, I was poked and prodded every few hours.  By early evening, friends and family came to distract us, pray with us, to take our mind off of missing Evie, the risks I faced for infection, the danger our littlest girl was facing.  My sister and brother in law brought Evie and finally we had reason to smile. A welcome distraction.

Sometime that evening, I rolled over, and felt a pop inside.  This is it, I thought. My heart pounded, waiting for that rush of warm liquid. I felt nothing though.  Terrified, I had Kemi call the nurse.  After an ultrasound, we learned Celeste was now facing head-down, and had moved further down the birth canal.  It was happening. The very thing that we had prayed against was now the inevitable.  I felt like my heart had fallen like a brick through my body. There was an emptiness inside me I've never felt.



And then, the door opened, and our doctor walked in. Our capable, trusted doctor. The man who delivered Evie. The man who took our hands and prayed with Kemi and I the moment Evie was born.  I began to cry harder. An angel might as well have walked through that door.  I felt a weight off my shoulders. Somehow, I thought, he'd know what to do. Maybe he'd know of another option.  Maybe we could finally get approval to transfer me to the hospital where Evie was born...they'd have different equipment, maybe? A different prognosis? I was desperate for someone to tell me this was possible.  I was hopeful for the first time that night.  It was short lived.  Our doctor examined me, and gently said "She's coming tonight, Corinna." He informed me I was 6 cm dilated, and her head was about 6 cm. There was no stopping it now.  He told me I could push now, reminding me that our priest was there to baptize Celeste. Our doctor was on call, and I knew he could be called away from us at any moment. What if something went wrong? I needed him there. We decided I'd push, knowing there was no more waiting. My legs were put in stirrups, and with tears pouring, I gave the smallest push and my tiny angel was out, arms and legs flailing.  She was laid on the table with the NICU team where she cried one tiny cry for her papa and squeezed his finger.  I anxiously watched, begging them with my eyes to hurry and bring her to me. She was placed on my chest, just under my gown like a little pouch.  Her tiny body was warm, but by now barely moved.  She rested her sweet fingers against my chest and I breathed her in. Covered her in gentle kisses.  Traced the tiny hairs on her sweet head.  Told myself to memorize her, to remember every second.



We repeated over and over "We love you Celeste. We've loved you every second of every day. We love you. We love you." Three hours later, her heart stopped beating. We held her and held her and whispered to her of our love for her.





And Kemi...my best friend. He never left my side. This isn't just the story of Celeste. This is also the story of a marriage strengthened. A bond made more unshakable than ever.  A holier family.  My sweet husband who made me laugh when I needed to laugh, and with tears pouring down his cheeks, wiped mine away.  I had never loved him more than I did that night.  In almost ten years, we had experienced so much together, but nothing that would change us like this.  We knew we'd never be the same, but we'd be different together. Celeste had made us better people, and better parents. After coming home, every diaper I changed, every bath I gave, every bite I fed Evangeline, I told Celeste I was doing it for her too. What we would give to take loving care of Celeste too.  Today, a week later, we treasure every second with Evangeline. Every opportunity to parent her is a gift.



In the past few days, Kemi and I have been able to smile sometimes, and pretend we're not the people who have lost a child.  Sometimes, its even been nice to go places where no one knows you and looks at you like they feel sorry for you.  We know time will pass, and someday those smiles we fake will be more real, genuine, and we will laugh again.



Tomorrow, we will bury our daughter. It feels unnatural, surreal. There is nothing that seems right about having to bury your child.  But, when we examine our hearts, and we ask God earnestly in prayer what can all this mean, we know she points us to heaven. Our family will forever have our sights set on heaven, and on the sweet reunion with our saint Celeste.


We thank you, our dear, sweet Celeste. Our hearts long for you. And in longing for you, we long for heaven.  We are forever changed.  We can't wait to hold you again.  Pray for us, as we'll be praying for you.

59 comments:

  1. Corinna and Kemi I was that family on thier couch asking everyone I knew to pray for you and your beautiful family. I have seen hard times, I have even lived some but I can't even imagine your pain. But through it all you have taught me that trust in out Lord can get you thru. You both are such an inspiration of how one should live thier life! Celeste will forever be in my thoughts and prayers as will you and your whole family! I pray that each day gets a little easier and that the smiles and laughter come as I believe that Celeste would want to see her mom, dad and big sister Evi happy and loving each moment. I know hard times will come where you will relieve the pain but remember you faith and your strength. Thank you for teaching me that it is possible to find the way to push on in the hardest of times!

    Corinna, Kemi, Evi and Celeste you are always in my thoughts and prayers! Thank you ffor sharing your story of love, faith, life and even death. We will all meet again in Heaven and that is the reason to keep on keepin on!

    ReplyDelete
  2. I am so sorry about losing your little girl. We lost our little girl at 22 weeks as well, although a different type of story. I pray that God is close to you during this time--He is close to the brokenhearted. I am a part of a non-profit that helps women who are experiencing miscarriage, stillbirth or early infant loss. If you need someone to talk to, please e-mail me Rachelle@cradled.org Our website is www.Cradled.org

    ReplyDelete
  3. This is beyond heartbreaking, I am soo sad for you!
    I'm curious how far along you were?
    Thank you for being brave enough to share your story...it WILL touch a lot of mama's lives and hopefully bring a new sense of healing!
    I have a 2 yr old son and am 15 weeks today with our 2nd baby but my friend just 2 weeks ago went in to find out the gender at 20 weeks... there was no heartbeat. ;( They induced her and she birthed her teeny tiny baby. So heart wrenching, gut wrenching. ;(

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hi Bethany,

      We were 22 weeks and 6 days along. I'll keep you in my prayers for your 2nd little one!

      Delete
  4. I remember thinking it was neat when we got married in the same year, then felt connected to you guys when our daughters were born just days apart. But when Kemi announced that Celeste was on her way, I couldn't believe that our second children were only going to be weeks apart too. For all of these reasons, I feel close to you guys in a unique way. And for those same reasons, my heart aches for you. Please know of an overflowing of prayer from our house to yours. Thank you for being such a strong and beautiful mother, for saying "yes" to God, even when it is incredibly painful. These pictures speak an incredible love story. We love you! saint Celeste, pray for us!

    ReplyDelete
  5. Corinna and family, so terribly sorry for your loss. I am sure the story was extremely hard for you to share but it was written beautifully with so much love and genuninty. Thoughts and prayers are coming to you from Maine, from an old babysitter. Hoping that sharing your story somehow brings you some peace.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hi Caitlin,

      Thanks so much for your prayers. We're taking it day by day. I hope you and your family are well!

      Delete
  6. I'm a friend of a friend. Your daughter's birth story is very much like the story of our son, Evan. He was born at just 21 weeks. Perfect in every way, but just too little to live on the outside. Seven years later and we have three crazy (adopted) kiddos that wouldn't be here if he was. That's always been a hard pill to swallow. I'll always want him back. I'll never forget him.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Beautiful. Thanks for posting. Your family has been in our prayers every day since we heard. We'll be praying for you today as you "officially" say goodbye.

    Love to you from CoMo!!

    ReplyDelete
  8. Thank you so much for sharing Celeste's story! May God bless and heal you! He loves us so! :D

    ReplyDelete
  9. May God continually shine His grace upon your family, His grace is enough. Truly no words could ever express my sympathy. Nor can words express my thanks to you for sharing your profound faith. Simply, God bless you all.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Jordan and I are keeping your sweet family in prayer.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Our family is praying for your family. I cannot begin to understand how much this hurts but, I am sure your honest account will help another mom walking a similar journey. God bless you.

    ReplyDelete
  12. Just found this page through a friend. I am so sorry for your loss. We will keep you in our prayers. Celeste is beautiful. My husband and I lost our first child during pregnancy almost 2 years ago. I am here if you want to talk. Praying

    ReplyDelete
  13. Thank you for having the courage to share this story. I hope it brings you and Kemi peace and healing whenever you look at that sweet baby girl's pictures. This story exemplifies what true love and total faith in God's will looks like. Jason and I have been praying for you everyday...we will especially hold you up in prayer today. Praying for continued healing and comfort. Thank you again for sharing this beautiful story. The pictures are amazing and I know you will treasure them forever. Evie will love getting to know her sweet sister through these photos. Many blessings to you and your family.

    ReplyDelete
  14. Thank you so much for sharing this story. Amazing strength the two of you have. I have a daughter with special needs and each day is a struggle. I remember that feeling of not knowing how life can continue on. I haven't physically lost my daughter, but I do understand that feeling of trying so hard to act normal again. Thanks again for sharing your story! mysilentangelsfight.blogspot.com

    ReplyDelete
  15. So sorry for your loss. Family and friends will be praying for her sweet soul. And like you said, I'm sure she will be praying for us. Saint Celeste, pray for us!

    ReplyDelete
  16. I feel like you just wrote my story...my Oliver's Birth. Word for word. My heart aches with you, for you. BUT We have an amazing God, one who knows us, knows our desires, knows our every move and He knows what is best for us! May God Bless you and your beautiful family. And may My Sweet Oliver and your Beautiful Celeste watch over us always until we meet again!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Wow Rebecca...it is somehow comforting to know of other women experiencing the same pain and loss. We'll keep your family in our prayers, and I know Celeste and Oliver are rejoicing at the foot of Jesus. It comforts us to know the time we will have to wait to hold her is nothing compared to being able to be with her again for all eternity!

      Delete
    2. I have an Oliver in heaven too. He was born at 22 weeks on May 18. I cannot wait for day we all get to hold our precious little ones again.

      Delete
  17. Oh! Celeste sweet angel. You rejoice in heaven with all of God's angels and all of God's most cherished children! What peace this brings Him eternally, what joy your sweet soul shares now forever! Your Momma will forever be proud, both your Momma's (in Heaven and on earth)! Pray for us dear child of God. Our hearts long to see Jesus and share in his mercy. My sweet Grandfather lost his battle with cancer just last summer and I know you enjoy heaven with him now! Say hello, will you!! He received many blessing from a beautiful Priest before passing and I know my sweet wonderful Grandpa who was so faithful and giving to others here on earth is enjoying Heaven just the same way! Pray for the children who have no one to pray for them, and the elderly who are without anyone. I pray you and your family rejoice in with Jesus and his Holy Family one day forever! I know your Momma longs for your sweet body here on earth, much like I still long for my most precious Grandpa everyday, but knowing you both are with Jesus gives our souls here on earth so much comfort! Rejoice Rejoice Rejoice and sing His praises now and forever!!

    ReplyDelete
  18. You don't know me. I have read about you via Jackie Francios' posts. But I know and share a story very similar to yours, but my story happened 13 years ago. Our Peter Daniel was born at 20 weeks. I remember, after my water broke, praying to Mary asking Her to welcome my child into heaven and to mother him until we are reunited one day. I am praying for both you and your husband. I can tell you that your sweet angel will always be in your heart, but you will heal. God's will for our family was that we'd no longer be able to have biological children, but we we welcomed our daughter into our home 10 years ago through adoption.

    ReplyDelete
  19. I am so sorry for your loss. My friend shared your blog link with me because we lost our fifth child during labour in 2009. Grief is hard even if we grieve with hope of seeing our babies again for eternity. Celeste was beautiful. Thank you for sharing the story of her birth.

    ReplyDelete
  20. I am so sorry or your loss. You don't know me but when I run across a baby story I always have to read. My baby was born at 1 lb 1 ounce and just now as she woke up from peeing in her bed at midnight, she is now 3, I will be hugging her tighter tonight. I don't know how I got so lucky but everything happens for a reason and thank you for making me love more deeply tonight.

    ReplyDelete
  21. No words can comfort you the way the still solitude of time spent before the Blessed Sacrament in Adoration will. No words can comfort you the way the silent, supportive arms of loved ones will. No words can comfort you the way a deep belly laugh from being silly with your little Evie will. You and your family are in my prayers.

    http://stillstandingmag.com/2013/02/what-i-need/

    ReplyDelete
  22. First of all I would like to congratulate you on a beautiful baby girl. I am so sorry you don't get to raise Celeste here on earth. Do know that she is more alive then you or I are right now. My first born son was stillborn a week before his due date 2 years ago, Feb 10. No ones words help that much right now, but slowly, very slowly it will get better.

    ReplyDelete
  23. I am so sorry for your loss. Your sweet baby girl Celeste is so beautiful. I know those moments with her you will always hold close in your heart. My daughter's 4th birthday is about a month away and while the grief is not as heavy as it once was nor hits me as often I still miss her and think of her every single day. Sending love and prayers

    ReplyDelete
  24. Thank you so much for being generous to share your story with the rest of us. I'm so sorry for your loss. You and all of your loved ones with be in my prayers. What a beautiful family you have!

    ReplyDelete
  25. I'm so sorry. Sweet little St. Celeste, pray for us.

    ReplyDelete
  26. The Lord is near to the broken hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. xoxo

    ReplyDelete
  27. This is absolutely beautiful. Your daughter is absolutely beautiful. You are okay! You are okay as a couple! You are okay as parents to your daughter Evie. You are broken and you are blessed beyond measure. There is a beautiful, beautiful life after infant death--especially as Catholics. Your heart is going to heal. There will always be a spot in it that is empty--that is for Celeste alone. Evie your older daughter can't fill it. If you have future children, they won't be able to fill it either. But God will fill it. There will be beautiful, beautiful moments that will come and sit in that holy spot in your heart that is for Celeste alone. Thank you for loving your baby girl so well. Our prayers are with you!

    Mother of Francisco, died July 2007 and a NICU baby Tess Sept 2010

    ReplyDelete
  28. I have no words ... I'm a mother of six and I share your tears and prayers...

    ReplyDelete
  29. Corinna and Kemi, you don't know me but I saw your story through a mutual friend of ours (Joanna Blum)on Facebook. I have just read the story of your beautiful angel Celeste and my heart goes out to you. You and Kemi represent all that is good in this world; I admire you as a fellow parent more than you could ever know. You are an inspiration to me, and I want to thank you for being so strong and loving your sweet, beautiful baby Celeste during her time here on earth with us. I am struggling to find eloquent words to say as I am overcome with emotion. My children are my oxygen, my lifeblood, my everything and I just cannot fathom what you are dealing with. I pray that the healing spirit of the Lord brings you comfort with each passing day to the extent that is possible. Also I want to thank you for sharing these pictures of Celeste with us. They bring a sense of overwhelming beauty, innocence, peace and purity that cannot be captured anywhere else. God Bless You and God Bless your sweet angel Celeste.

    ReplyDelete
  30. Vince, I don't expect you could know what your words meant to me tonight, but just know they really touched my heart. I was struggling tonight missing my girl, and knowing that her pictures touched another parent's heart was really good for me. I'm glad her story touched you. When you lose a child, you don't want their story to be forgotten...I'm glad her story meant something to you.

    ReplyDelete
  31. Bless you for sharing your story. We lost our baby girl too at 23 weeks. She would have been 13 this year had she survived. Unfortunately for us, we went on to lose our next two pregnancies too so have not been blessed with any children whom we can love and care for.
    Treasure all your memories of little Celeste and shower your little Evie with as much love as you can possibly give her. Look after each other and be strong in your love together x

    ReplyDelete
  32. Thank you for sharing your precious Celeste. Oh how very loved she is--by her family and our Father in Heaven! It brought tears to my eyes. My twin sons, Isaac and Isaiah, were born silently at 23wks to the day (they died 3 days before, at 22.5 wks)It's so incredibly hard to say 'goodbye for now' to our precious children. Headstones where cribs should be...just will never seem right. I'm praying for you and praying you find comfort in the arms of our Savior. I remember thinking numerous times...I had to give my sons up so young (and some of their siblings in miscarriage) but I cannot imagine what God gave up for me in HIS Son. It's truly amazing. Big hugs! ♥

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Also thank you for sharing your most private moments. Five years later I know how very sacred those last moments are...you are amazing to share these beautiful moments with us!

      Delete
  33. Thank You. Thank you for sharing Celeste's story...and yours. Thank you for sharing pictures of your blessing from GOD. My one and only child, Thomas Michael, was also born at 22 weeks. He lived 19 hours...weighing 1 pound 13 ounces. This was back in 1978 and things were a little different then. I never got to see him...never had the opportunity to hold him, to caress him, to tell him how much I love him. The pictures of your love allow me to imagine how big he was and what he may have looked like. Just like your Celeste, he was too good for this world. GOD had a much bigger purpose for them both. I can hardly wait until Yahweh calls me home and I can meet my heart...and yours. Praying for you as you grieve your earthly loss... <3

    ReplyDelete
  34. I went through this twice- I know how much it hurt for me. I was 20 and 21 wks along the 20wk daughter lived 1/2 hr hr. My heart goes out to you.

    ReplyDelete
  35. Hi there. We have been through what you are enduring now three times. We have had to lay three of our babies to final rest and know they are now Angels in God's garden. I am so very sorry! My heart truly breaks for you! <3 I am here, should you need an ear or a shoulder to lean on. We also have a blog here @ prayingforbabycantrell1@blogspot.com We are sending our love, hugs and prayers. Celeste is a beautiful little princess and I'm sure she is loved very, very much!! <3

    ReplyDelete
  36. God bless you for sharing your story, I lost my daughter when I was 29 weeks pregnant on February 2, 2013. She was a stillborn but we were able to hold her as long as we needed and we also had friends, family and our priest come in to see her. It has been the hardest thing we have ever had to do but I agree with you that it has made our marriage stronger. I wish that I could talk about her more as you have but it still hurts so much. I will pray for you and your family, may peace be with you.

    ReplyDelete
  37. Thank you for sharing your story, I too lost my son on March 17, 2013 at 22 weeks. I had placental abruption and was bleeding out, so I was rushed to emergency surgery to have him taken via csection and to stop my bleeding. My sweet boy lived 5 hours, and I was put into a medically induced coma for two days. I never got to say goodbye to my sweet angel, but I know he is in heaven watching over me, his sister, and his father...I feel you pain in the loss, and I pray for peace for you and your family. May God continue to bless you. Thank you again for sharing this, it helps me to hear others stories, because I feel so much of an empty space without being able to say goodbye. God Bless - Audra

    ReplyDelete
  38. As a NICU nurse I have been at several births similar to yours with your beautiful little angel Celeste. You have put into words what many cannot express. Through your beautiful and sensitive photographs we can feel your pain and your loss and also see the beauty and wonder of Celeste's short life. I thank you for sharing your story and may God bless you and your family - taryn

    ReplyDelete
  39. I can only imagine the heartache you must feel... what a blessed life your sweet baby girl had though, knowing nothing but love from the moment she entered this world to the moment she left. May peace be with your family.

    ReplyDelete
  40. I work for an amazing non-profit organization called OC Walk to Remember (www.ocwalktoremember.org) We are also on facebook.
    We can never take away your grief, but we can give you a safe place to share your grief.

    ReplyDelete
  41. A beautiful daughter! In October, I was in the delivery room with my "little sister" when she delivered her son, Ayden, at 22 weeks due to an undiagnosed incompetent cervix. Our WHOLE family arrived soon after and we all celebrated his birth...and mourned his death together. It's still hard to know that my sweet nephew isn't here. These kids will be with us forever!

    ReplyDelete
  42. My daughter just lost a baby this past February.... at 12 weeks. I find it so sad that some people don't regard her loss as anything of any consequence. It seems they think it was just tissue and not a real live human being. We all know better. Shiloh Zion is sitting at the hand of God.

    ReplyDelete
  43. Your little Saint in heaven. You and your family our in our thoughts and prayers. We have a 24 week old preemie John-Victor. He survived the ordeal but i pray every day for the parents going through this as we also have lost 7 to miscarriage . It is pain that you cant explain yet a love that is so great. I am so glad you shared your story of this precious gift. Thank you

    ReplyDelete
  44. Thank you for sharing your beautiful story of God's faithfulness even through pain. I know God is using your transparency to allow Celeste to bless many hearts and change many lives.

    ReplyDelete
  45. Know that your daughter came for God's purpose. You daughter showed the world that is is not a fetus it is a person a baby. I know this is hard for you but knowing she is in the loving arms of our Lord give us peace. Thank you for sharing with the world. God Bless you and your family.

    ReplyDelete
  46. May God bless you, your little Celeste and your family.

    ReplyDelete
  47. God Bless both of you! May your pain be an inspiration to other women losing a baby that God is there to receive the baby and there to give you strength to carry on.

    ReplyDelete
  48. Your strength is giving others hope. God Bless you and your beautiful family! Celeste knew your love on earth and now loves you from heaven!

    ReplyDelete
  49. Thank you, Terri. I can only bring myself to share this part of my life when I remember how God might use it to bless another. It is humbling how God can use a 22 week baby for His glory!

    ReplyDelete
  50. I too lost 2 babies in my 26th and 24th wk ...1 yr apart! A girl and a boy! My little girl lived for 4 days and the little boy not very long! It was a rough journey, but time eases the pain and they were buried with their grandparents and are not alone!

    ReplyDelete
  51. I read your story via Live Action- how beautiful!

    I lost my baby girl in December 2010, and life has not been the same since.

    Thank you for sharing your story. Your daughter is beautiful. Your faith is inspiring.

    ReplyDelete
  52. I feel a strong connection to you. My name is Celeste and I was born February 11th. I do not know your pain, but thank you for sharing. I tried to comment on this earlier and the post disappeared. God bless you, your family and Celeste "Heaven sent".

    ReplyDelete
  53. Our son's wife's sister lost her 6 day old baby very recently... saddest day. I know Elijah has gone to Heaven and we will all see him there someday, just as I will the 3 most wanted babies I lost, too. They will never be forgotten and thankfully God promises strength for all the days we do without them. HUGS to Celeste, Ashley and all other heartbroken moms.

    ReplyDelete