What Was Beautiful About Abigail

The moment I saw Abigail, I was in awe of her. I had been prepared for a baby with no face, so to find this baby on my chest who was so developed was a big surprise. It was reminiscent of some of my dreams in which someone was handing me a perfect baby while I lay in a bed. In those dreams I was always confused because we had been expecting the worst. 

In the video of that moment, where Bill is handing me our daughter for the first time and introducing us, you can't hear much of what we are saying. There is too much doctory noise in the ICU. But you can see in my face the wonder I feel, and you can read my lips when I say, "Wow."

What was so beautiful about Abigail was the life force that could be felt from her, the spirit. She was so clearly alive, despite her limitations which made her appear mostly unresponsive to her environment. She had reflexes but was mostly still and slept for much of her life, like a healthy newborn does anyway. Her presence is one I will never forget, though. Maybe other mothers and fathers will know what I mean when I say she had a quiet wisdom about her.

Wise babies, fresh from heaven, so filled with purpose. They are all amazing, aren't they? Abigail had that, too.

What was so beautiful about Abigail was the way she relaxed at the soft touch of love on her chubby cheeks. I could have stroked them forever, singing lullabies and watching her soak in the love.

What was so beautiful about Abigail was the softness of her cry and the wetness of her tears. I had no guarantees of hearing her voice, and the expectation was that she had no eyes. Yet we had the privilege of knowing her voice and her tears. It broke our hearts to know she was struggling near the end of her life. But wiping her tears and comforting her with our voices was part of that deep connection we formed with her during her tiny, brief life on earth.

What was so beautiful about Abigail was the way neither her hands not her feet were matching. Each limb ended with a different kind of hand or foot. The left hand and the right foot were visibly perfect, with a little kissie toe action (syndactyly) on the right big and second toe. But the left foot was clubbed and tiny, due to the amniotic band restricting blood flow, and we called that one her baby doll foot. It still had all its parts with five precious little toes. They were merely smaller and less standard in their appearance. Her right hand was also affected by the amniotic bands so that her pinky on that hand was a third of the size it would have been. Yet there was still a tiny triangular fingernail at its tip. It was my favorite hand. She closed her hands around our fingers when we touched her. Holding hands with my baby girl was another very special way we bonded.

What was so beautiful about Abigail were her perfect little ear lobes. They were so cute and perfectly formed. It was only above her ears that the skull had stopped forming. We loved singing and speaking softly into those precious little ears.

What was so beautiful about Abigail was the round little chin that looked so much like the rest of the Lantz chins. The beginnings of a chin dimple were there, just as all our other children had at birth. It was part of the joy we experienced on the day of her birth for everyone who held her to pick out these little family resemblances.

What was so beautiful about Abigail was the steadiness of her heart and how she fought to the end. Dreams had prepared me for this, but not enough. When her heart stopped beating against my chest and her breaths had been quiet for some time, I wept.

I kissed her ears and her cheeks and her eyes and her hands and her feet and her chin. I told her I loved her, and I rocked her little body, even though I knew she couldn't feel it anymore.

What was so beautiful about Abigail was that she was ours. She would have been ours, even if she had died in the womb or on the table in the OR. But she waited, and helped us to claim her as ours, maybe because she knew I needed that time with her.

My heart stopping in the OR didn't stop us from spending that day together. I responded lightning fast to the treatment of the anesthesiologist, and it's no wonder why. Death couldn't hold me back from her. I wanted to spend that day with her.

Our best day ever.

What was so beautiful about Abigail probably can't even be put into measly words. I'm still basking in her glow, through my grief.

Abigail had a certain glory in her body, but I believe she is even more glorious now. Free from pain and tears, she can smile now. Here she was as fragile and beautiful as a flower but in God's presence she glows with all the love she was created with and all the love we, her family, gave her here.

What is so beautiful about Abigail now is the scope of her impact, the lives she has touched for the better, and the way those ripples of love are still flowing outward into the universe. We will not forget her, the lessons God has taught us through her, or her connection to us as an important part of our family. For us she will always be present, in spirit or in memory.

How can we thank God for so much beauty?