My Habib, My Beloved

Where Joy and Sorrow Meet

In just a few short weeks, Michael and I will be surrounded by family and friends celebrating the soon-to-be birth of our baby boy, Ezekiel Augustine Hirsch. We absolutely love his name! The name Ezekiel has been on my heart since 2010 and it was confirmation when Michael too agreed on the name. It means “God strengthens” and his middle name, Augustine, means “strong, mighty”. It is a powerful reminder for him, and for us, to know that his strength alone comes from the Lord, God.This pregnancy has been a journey for us filled with joy, laughter, surprises, and excitement as well as sorrow, mystery, and hope. The latter of which only a few are familiar with. You see, Michael and I found out we were pregnant at around four weeks. This was just a few days after I had gotten a referral to see a fertility specialist because we weren’t getting pregnant. Not many people know but we had been actively trying since right after marriage. We both had our hearts set on becoming parents and after so many negative pregnancy tests, we began to feel discouraged. I know I did.

“What if we can’t have kids? What if I’m infertile?”

For those of you who don’t know, I was diagnosed with an aggressive form of ovarian cancer in 2014 and had a massive tumor, the size of a volleyball, that enveloped my left ovary. When I woke up from surgery, I found out that the mass was indeed malignant and my doctor performed a unilateral oophorectomy (surgical removal of an ovary/fallopian tube). I went through a full round of chemotherapy ending in August 2014. (Three years in remission, praise God!) One of the possible side-effects of the drugs was infertility. So, I began to wonder and doubt the possibility of us ever becoming pregnant.

The day we found out we were pregnant, which was around four weeks, was so beautiful! When I saw those two concentrated blue lines on the home pregnancy test, I was elated to say the least. We were so incredibly grateful and cried tears of relief and joy. What we had patiently waited for was finally here. Oh, the timing too! We shared this news with some family but wanted to wait to tell more family until after we hit our second trimester.

Our first ultrasound was at six weeks and it was just the two of us there. We anxiously waited in the room as we attempted to figure out what in the world we were seeing on the ultrasound screen as the technician did her thing. A few minutes into the appointment, she told us something that completely shocked us. We were pregnant…with twins! TWINS!!!

We’re pregnant…with twins!

“Wait, what?” we thought. We didn’t think we could even get pregnant and then, with one ovary, were pregnant with two babies. We began to cry and laugh. We met with my OBGYN afterwards and she congratulated us and shared some information on their development. We were told that one of the twins was just a few days behind and had a weaker heartbeat. The doctor was completely calm and gave us no reason to worry, so we left there that day and went straight to my parent’s house to share with them this great news!

My mom and sister came with me to my next ultrasound just two weeks later. I had already been pinning things to my baby board and talking to Michael about double strollers, not having to take turns holding our babies and our plan on how we were going to tell his mom and family. I was very happy to share this moment with my mom and sister. As the appointment was going on, I realized that the technician was much quieter than before. I figured I was being impatient, so I kept quiet. Then, she spoke but it was only about one of the babies. That’s when I started to worry and wonder. “Why wasn’t she talking about both of them? Maybe I’m overthinking.” She finally began focusing on the second baby but I knew something was wrong. She then told me that the other baby did not have a heartbeat.

She told me that the other baby did not have a heartbeat.

I was told the baby hadn’t grown or developed much since the last visit. One of my babies was dead and the reality hit me and I began to cry. I was confused. He/she was just fine two weeks ago and had a heartbeat then. I saw it beating. What do you mean, gone? It was the last thing that I expected to hear and at the time, I wished Michael was there with me. After the visit, he called while I was still in the building because I didn’t call him. I couldn’t lie and say everything was fine because everything was not fine.

When I arrived home, and Michael and I sat on the couch together and cried. No more double strollers, or each of us holding one of the babies. No more a lot of things. We picked up the picture of that day’s ultrasound, looked at it and sat it back down on the table. It was a painful reminder of the child we were never going to meet or hold. Then, Michael picked it back up off of the table and said something that shifted our hearts. He made a point that we cannot allow this loss to overshadow the life of the other. He talked about how we are still parents and cannot neglect the life that is still growing inside of me.

Balancing both joy and sorrow.

And the only way we knew we could do this was by the Lord giving us strength to do so. We needed strength, so we prayed. We prayed and kept open communication with how we were feeling with one another. We cried on and off together and sometimes just laid down next to each other silently. We were also trying to figure out how to tell family and when to do it. (At this point we hadn’t really shared that we were even pregnant.) There were only a handful of people who knew about us losing the baby. It’s a painful topic to just bring up to people, even close people, and there is no perfect formula for when to share or how to share and who to share it with. Every couple needs to follow what is best for them during their process of mourning but it is vital to speak about it. Not just for them, but for other women and other couples who have gone through this very same thing but may feel alone. That is part of the reason why I am even writing this and allowing myself to be this vulnerable. It’s necessary and it’s needed.

A few months back, we decided to name the baby that had passed away. Not knowing the gender made it difficult but eventually a name came to mind-Habib. His/her’s name is Habib. It’s Hebrew for ‘my beloved’.

My beloved.

He/she is deeply loved and will not be forgotten. At the right time, we will share with Ezekiel about his twin and how God, out of His great mercy, gave us two beautiful children. Even for a short breath of time, we are forever thankful. He made it possible with only one ovary and it challenged and stretched our faith and trust in Him. We know and believe that Habib is now whole in spirit and in body.

Yes, I still cry about it from time to time but I hold onto a hope that is indestructible — the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Loss is never easy, especially if going through it alone. Gladly, in our case, we were not alone. We witnessed first-hand what community in the Church looks like within our small group and with other people.

I just hit 30 weeks and it won’t be long until our son is here. The gift of life is a very precious thing. We are thrilled to be parents and cannot wait to meet Ezekiel for the first time and hold our little miracle. It is our hope in sharing our story that others who relate can experience freedom and joy in the midst of their sorrow. That other couples and other women would speak out as well to encourage those who feel chained to solitude and silence.

Sincerely,

Tebra and Michael Hirsch

*A verse that hit home with us during this time, more than ever, is from a man who knew much about loss.

“… The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.” Job 1:21

Here is a photo of our sweet Ezekiel at our last ultrasound/25 weeks.