Once there was a woman who had two granddaughters. They were identical in every way. Even before they were born, she loved them exactly the same.
Things started going wrong in Week Twenty-Two. The twins were more than three months shy of their target birthday marked on the countdown calendar. They were tiny and frail, and – according to the neonatal specialists – “not viable” at that age.
The grandmother prayed. The other grandparents prayed. The aunts, uncles, cousins, parents, friends, doctors, and nurses all prayed. And the twins held on. The specialists said they were “in no distress.” Lovely words for the grandmother to hear. Hopeful words. Full of comfort.
Two weeks passed. Weeks in which the chances of survival for Claire Felicity and Ellery Blythe went from zero to fifty-percent. Not great odds. But still no distress. No reason to panic. Just a matter of bed rest for a few weeks. The grandparents could leave their vigil in the waiting room down the hall. The aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends could go back about their lives. The babies just needed some time to grow.
But ultrasounds and specialists didn’t know what the babies seemed to know. Things were not going so well for them. And so, on a Tuesday afternoon in November, they decided to be born. The twins probably didn’t realize their mother was all alone that day. They didn’t know the twenty people who had been with them day and night for two weeks had all chosen that specific day to go home. They would never have picked that moment to enter the world had they known their mother would need to hold the hand of a stranger while she gave them the gift of life. They just knew it was time to leave the deteriorating womb and hope for the best.
And they had the best.
Their little fourteen inch bodies were swaddled and swabbed, poked and pampered. The girls threw every bit of their one pound nine ounces into struggling for life, and the doctors and nurses threw every miracle known to science back at them.
And the grandmother prayed. The other grandparents prayed. The aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, and probably the hospital custodians all prayed. And that is where the story takes a strange little turn. Everything was the same for the twins. Same parents. Same womb. Same fuzzy blonde hair and perfect little faces. Same prayers going up with fasting and tears. No. That is not true. The prayers were probably more fervent for Ellery Blythe, because she was not doing so well.
If faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen, then the twins were both covered that day. Their little cubicles were crowded with praying saints and passionate physicians. But the substance of their lives was in the hand of God. The grandmother’s faith could not change that.
Before the night had ended, The Creator of all lives opened a portal to glory in one room. Ellery Blythe slipped through. The grandmother wanted to accept it with dignity, to bow to His will in peace. But deep down she wished that she lived in the Middle East instead of the Midwest. She wished she could drop down on the hospital room floor and howl and wail at the top of her lungs so the agony inside could find some escape.
Instead, she prayed. She prayed that the God who raised Jesus from the dead and lifted Lazarus from the tomb would walk through the halls of University Hospital. Three times in the next hours she asked Him to raise Ellery Blythe from the dead. And, finally, after the third time, she found peace. Her faith had gone as far as it could go. There had been no lacking there. No lack of prayer, no lack of love, no lack of anything on this side.
God had simply chosen.
Claire is seven years old today. She runs, and laughs, and reads books with a passion. She plays and fights with her brother, Jesse, and her sisters, Ada and Macy. And she sparks a smile in everyone she meets.
The grandmother smiles most easily of all. No. That is not true. It only feels that way because the smile is always waiting in her soul. Anything can bring it out. The sight of a fuzzy caterpillar in the fall. The sound of Grandpa coming home at night. The smell of another new grandbaby in her arms. And the memory of Ellery Blythe, who has gone on ahead and is waiting to meet her some day.
Sometimes, the grandmother thinks about faith. The substance of things hoped for. The evidence of things not seen. Faith worked miracles for the twins. She has no doubt about that. The evidence is in her soul. The substance? Well some of it is here on earth, dancing in a pink tutu and flashing a brave face at the world. And some of it is in Heaven, where what we shall become has yet to be revealed.
Claire - Day 2555, approximately
Tears. Lots and lots of tears. And prayers of thanks for Claire and Ellery.
That NICU room doesn’t look in this picture nearly as peaceful as it always felt. This is a beautiful telling of their story, one of the most memorable seasons of my life. And I was just an aunt. I know we make up heaven stories (what exactly will happen there) just to comfort ourselves. But I’m so glad one of the best grandma-types I ever met is there with Ellery now. I bet that’s a fun first meeting.
Thanks, Molly. And, Serenity, I was thinking of Margie meeting Ellery, too. It was a comfort to me.
This made me well up. Happy birthday to Claire, and thanks for sharing your faith that Ellery is waiting in a glorious place for all of you.
Thanks, Katie.
We were so far away and unaware when all this was taking place, I remember when we got your Christmas letter that year with the story of it all, my stoic, quiet husband, welled up with tears, and wiped his eyes to think that one of our precious little Nickerson girls went through such horrific heart ache. I just flat out cried. HOWEVER! When I see pictures of Claire, and read about her from all of you, I know why God wanted her twin up there with him; I’m sure Ellery just makes heaven that much more fun 🙂
Love to all of you on this special day.
Beautifully told Kathy! I always awaken on this day with my first thoughts being those of gratitude for Claire’s life. Immediately followed by the thought of Ellery waiting for all of us on the other side of the veil. Then my thoughts envision my son (her Uncle) Luke, my brother (Great Uncle) Dan and my parents all enjoying her company and it brings great comfort to my heart!
This post is absolutely precious! Oh how I identify! And of course, it made me cry!
What an incredibly beautiful post, Kathy. I’m so thankful that you wrote it, and that I bopped over here to read it. I ache for you all, and I celebrate Claire!
Thanks Kathy! Am so grateful for God’s grace and the family we all love so much. Cheri’ asked if I had seen it yet and that when I did I would feel very emotional. I do!
REST, MY LITTLE ONE, REST
Rest, O little one, rest –
There, ‘midst heav’nly throng;
Tho’ earthly arms long to hold you,
Sing still your golden songs.
Rest, my little one, rest –
‘Til earth and heaven give way;
And we meet anew in sweet embrace;
Oh, such joy we’ll share that day.
Rest, sweet little one, rest –
Tho’ your life was but short breath;
Forever we shall call you ours;
Defeated no more by death.
Rest, O Ellery, rest.
Our love wanes not the least.
Tho’ apart, yet we live together
Secure in Heaven’s Peace.
Rest, my precious one, rest.
Dave Pingel
November 12, 2009
I remember
Dave, thank you for that beautiful poem and thanks for remembering! Your thoughtfulness made me cry!
So well written Cathy. This particular event will forever be in my life as I fell more in love with Jesus watching your family go thru this. Claire is such a joy and i cried when i realized she, who was not expected to live has turned 7!! What an amazing story to have!!
Cathy, that was truly beautiful… I remember when Felicity was in the hospital trying to keep those babies inside a little longer… I was here in Tucson praying and believing God for the same miracles you were all believing for.
My heart rejoices with you all in this, Claires 7th birthday… And I too smile at the thought of Grandma Margie joining Ellery in heaven…
Kathy, wow. That was beautiful. I am so happy for Claire, she is a miracle. And I am so happy that you all can celebrate that, and all of the memories and miracles that came with that. What a beautiful story, I will always remember that time, and God is wonderful though it doesn’t always make sense to us why things happen. I am glad you chose to write about this, I was blessed by it even though it brings on tears, Happy Birthday Claire and Ellory! Praise God for miracles and Praise Him for everyone that we will see again and live forever with!
I remember. What a wonderful tribute to Ellery and Claire. The memory still makes me cry, but I praise God that Ellery is with Him! I also praise Him for Claire. Her life is also a miracle from God!
How beautiful a story. Our precious children who have gone on before us make Heaven a sweet, sweet place. Your words about praying for Jesus to bring her back to life were my prayers for my Emily. I stared at her and begged the Lord to make her breathe again. But she did not.
I am blessed for having been allowed to hold her for 7 months this side of Heaven. What a blessing to have known Ellery Blythe.
Amy
Dear Amy, Thank you for stopping by my blog. I just read Emily’s story and it pierced my heart, of course. May God bless you and your family. Thank you for sharing.
Kathy, I read this to Michelle tonight from “The Brothers Karamazov”, and it reminded her of you and this wonderful article. Though I would put a disclaimer on the theology, the human cycle of grief, pain, and healing is well-captured…
“It is Rachel of old,” said the elder, “weeping for her children, and will
not be comforted because they are not. Such is the lot set on earth for
you mothers. Be not comforted. Consolation is not what you need. Weep and
be not consoled, but weep. Only every time that you weep be sure to
remember that your little son is one of the angels of God, that he looks
down from there at you and sees you, and rejoices at your tears, and
points at them to the Lord God; and a long while yet will you keep that
great mother’s grief. But it will turn in the end into quiet joy, and your
bitter tears will be only tears of tender sorrow that purifies the heart
and delivers it from sin.