Melody

I don’t even know what to say. My whole being is numb. Every ounce of my fiber cries out. If only I could hold you one more time. Kiss your sweet cheeks one more time. Listen to that still small tune that flowed out of your mouth... one more time. She was born in the wee hours of the morning on February 26th. Her mom wanted her dead…but she was rescued. Then the mom fled. Perhaps it was the plan all along. She became number 8 into La Limye. She was so beautiful. I cleaned her up since she hadn’t been cleaned after making an entrance into this world, and I wrapped her up nice and warm and frantically called hospitals to see who could help her. I was scared as I held her three pound body so closely to mine. Living out in a rural area of Haiti meant no doctors close by with the materials needed that could help. She needed a place that had the resources to take in premature babies. So we made the drive. Over an hour in the car as I kept my hand on her little heart to make sure it was still beating. When we arrived, I rushed inside, hoping for a miracle, but it was too late. Melody died just a few minutes before arriving. I knew the reality but couldn’t believe it so I moved her around trying to wake her up. She was just asleep I thought. That sweet small tune had just came out of her mouth. The nurse kept checking…hoping I was correct… and then she said the words that will forever ring in my ears. “I’m sorry. She’s not breathing.” I gasped for air and started to shake. I felt sick to my stomach and the floodgates opened. This was my baby. I already had a crib made for her. I already had friends buying preemie clothes and teeny tiny diapers for her. I gave her a name. Melody. I already fell in love with you. You already met your new sisters and already captured my heart. Melody…the sweet tune coming from your mouth would only be a voice clip on my phone now. I stood there and stared at your lifeless body on that table. Racing through the emotions and feelings. Wondering if I did something wrong. I couldn’t believe it. My head felt like it was beating out of me, I didn’t think there was any more water left to pour out of my eyes. The only think I could do was clinch my fist and imagine squeezing Jesus’ hand as you busted through the gates of heaven and ran into your daddy’s arms. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. The images are on replay in my mind and they won’t go away. But you are good. So good now. You are dancing on streets of gold. You are laughing and smiling and that sweet tune coming from your mouth is now chanting Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty.  I will indeed miss you…but I know you are looking down on me. Telling me to press on. To hold my other girls even tighter. To be happy. Because you are happy. I don’t know how or even when I’ll learn to cope but I can lean fully that one day “He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” Revelation 21:4 Have fun with Jesus, sweet girl.