My Letter to Malachi

Malachi’s Gift
 I wrote these words to Malachi on the day that he had passed away. I read it for his memorial service last Thursday, the 18th of August. I am thankful for those near and far who have supported us during this difficult time.

 Dear Malachi,

 I was hoping for more time with you, but grateful that we had enough time to hold you and allow your daddy and brother and other family members to give you priesthood blessings. The life support was miraculously able to keep you breathing long enough for all of us to hold you and say goodbye. I hope one day you realize how many people across the globe prayed for your safe birth and continued life and I suspect that in your spiritual state you are more aware than even I am.

 I am writing the words that have come to my heart after having to say goodbye to you too soon. Your NICU crib is empty, friends and relatives have left. Your brothers have left. Your daddy had to be sent home because I could see he was so exhausted after having about 8 hours of sleep across the span of 4 days. The 4 days we tried so hard to save you.

 And so it is, that just you and I remain in the hospital. I look at your battle scarred face and remember that this is all that is left of you in this world. The bruises remain on your leg that broke through my stitches and on your feet that had to be pushed away by the doctor so that the stitches could be removed to save us both. Those feet now have tiny blue booties around them now. The beginnings of what would have become your thick black head of hair is covered with a matching hat. 

Wrapped in a coordinating knit blanket is your tiny shell of mortality that was cast off after your spirit had to leave to go to more heavenly domains. Also inside are a tangle of tubes that doctors put inside your body to try to save your life. After your death, I asked the nurse if we could just cut the long, thin, protrusions off, but they remain as a testament to your strength and will as well as the love of everyone who cared for you. I learned a lot as the nurses and doctors explained everything about the many fluids being pumped into your umbilical chord to preserve your life and help you grow. I am grateful that we live in an age where it is possible to give such tiny babies a chance. I am glad that I had the chance to give your body a warm bath before placing you in your beautiful handmade clothing made by angels who have traveled this way before.


 Malachi, even though you have moved to a a better place, you are still my miracle. For 23 weeks and 6 days, you and I were inseparable. You were very much wanted by your father and I after losing your brother Jacob last year. Although it did take some time to decide to try again, as we were both so devastated last year. We wanted to give Joseph the gift of a younger sibling to grow up with. We believed that with the right medical advice, we could try again and avoid the same complications that caused Jacob to arrive too soon to be compatible for life.

 When I went to the doctor, I believed that keeping you safely inside me would be a much easier task. I submitted to surgery to keep you and planned your arrival around key dates in my job so that I would be free of stress and worries when it was time for the surgery to begin. When my waters broke weeks after the successful procedure, I refused to let my heart break with it. I researched and followed a routine of bed rest, supplements, and hope. I read stories of so many others whose sacrifices bore fruit in the form of smiling happy children after bed rest and often lengthy NICU stays.

 I thought long and hard about the sacrifices I had to to make to keep you safe inside the womb so that you would be given a strong and healthy body. Would I be willing to give up my income for an undetermined amount of time? Would I be truly able to stay off my feet and let others serve me? Would other family members be supportive of this plan to keep you safe inside for as long as possible?

We thought long and hard about all those things, but the answer was yes. And many changes were very good for everyone, not just you. Your daddy was able to find a position to work days. I think I was the one most excited about sharing dinners together every night. Joshua and Caleb both had to stretch themselves to do more to keep the house clean and organized and take care of me when I could not. Even Joey got to become a pro at taking care of his mommy and talking to you and playing cars with you by rolling them across my belly as he snuggled in bed with me. I was able to make arrangements for another teacher to replace me for as many weeks as I needed to be away to keep you safely growing.

 And yet, my body could not keep you inside. The hospital staff got to know me well from all the visits I made because my body seemed to be threatening to make you leave. Eventually, it became more difficult for the doctors to make the contractions stop and some were convinced it was best not to make them stop. Between the painful contractions, you would kick at my stitch, as if you really wanted to break free. The force would take my breath away and one day you would kick through it after a final round of contractions where the doctor on call didn’t want to intervene. I wasn't ready to let you leave, knowing that your body was not fully prepared to live with us without tremendous assistance. But eventually, upon looking at professional advice, we knew we had to let you be born, rather than risk losing you inside to other risk factors.

 The neonatologist said that a baby who was 22 weeks and 6 days had a 20 to 40 percent chance of making it until discharge and we clung to that hope, but your body was a little less developed than that. Still, we were amazed at how hard the doctors worked and how much of a fighter that you were as you passed through your 24 hour period, beating many obstacles until the 18th hour, when it became clear that your fierce will was not enough to let you stay on earth.

 Of course we prayed for miracles and we believe in miracles, but we also know that sometimes the miracle occurs when we don’t get what was wanted. Sometimes there are better miracles to be seen in the reflection of defeat. Or rather, sometimes, if we truly understood the mind and will of God, would we see the greatness of disappointment, loss, and struggle.

 As I showered away many of the remnants of the second major surgery that I endured to save your life, I know that your short life was not in vain. I do not regret the IVs, blood draws, medicine, painful recoveries, contractions that sent me to my knees, and the sadness of having to say goodbye after doing all we could to preserve your life. I still have the bruises from the many medical procedures I chose to take and you have many that show upon your body from your struggle. I am in awe of all you suffered from the first moment of birth until your death. I know that my bruises and cuts will heal in this life and I also know that one day we will both have better bodies to house our spirits than the tabernacles we have been given.

 I know someday we will be reunited and that we will have a different view of our struggles together. I remember that after Jacob passed, I worried that I had cheated him of his life by not taking better care of myself. I worried that he was somehow mad at me that his mortal experience amounted to 6 hours and 55 minutes. And in time I became comforted knowing that God had greater things for him to do. After watching you fight in a similar way to live, I know that you were also determined to make the most of your time with us and I also know that there is much more that I will not understand until I have passed on to the other side and see you and your angel brother again.

 But from your short life I have learned the value of sacrifice and I have become more appreciative of your brothers who I am privileged to be part of their daily lives. I have started to let go of things of the world and work harder to hold onto the more precious, elusive, and satisfying gifts of the spiritual realm. Your brothers have grown closer together and look forward to the day when we will truly understand that families are forever. Your father is more tender and loving and your oldest brother is more prepared to share his testimony of God’s love with others.

 Malachi, I do not want to forget your short life by undoing some of those changes that we made. I do not want to forget this miracle by undoing the good that came from your brief existence on this earth. When everyone left the hospital room, I gently rocked what was left of your fight on this earth in my arms, and I sang to you the songs we sang to your brother. 

While snuggling you to my chest, the thought occurred to me that God is capable of raising your cold body from the dead, even right in that very moment. I entertained the idea of such a powerful miracle, of bringing you back to the NICU, full of life and fixed, a testament to God’s almighty power. I think of how many people could be brought closer to Christ with such a miracle.

 Do I have enough faith that the Lord could do this for me? A strong voice said yes! But then a softer thought, lovingly reminded me that I sin when I wish for such a thing.

 Yes, of course I know that God is all powerful and capable of power over death, but it takes greater faith to wait for the day appointed for you to be resurrected.

 If I had received such a miracle without the sacrifice, would I have gained as much? Would I have learned and applied what I needed to learn in this life to be prepared for a greater life to come?

 No, I would have eventually fallen back into bad habits and perhaps not appreciated the smaller miracles that I pass by while ever seeking bigger ones.

 I must never cease to look for good that is hidden in gloom and strive to keep the light of faith bright even in darkness.

 Dearest Malachi, the miracle I want to remember the most is how your life brought me closer to heaven and how my hardened heart began to soften. Each breath you took was a miracle to help us. In the mean time, I walk by faith and hope that I can live my life in such away that we will be reunited again on the morning of the first resurrection, where every joy that was lost, will be restored in greater fulness.

 Love always and forever,

 Your mommy, daddy, and brothers here on earth