Paige Abigail

“Do you have kids?”

The days when that was a “simple” question to answer seem so long ago. “No, no kids yet,” was the easy answer right after my husband, Brendan, and I got married. “Not yet, but hopefully soon,” was the anxious but hopeful answer while we were waiting for God to bless us with a child. “Our first is on the way,” was the answer full of excitement and dreams coming true once we finally found out that we were expecting. Now, that question holds more emotion than I ever knew possible. “Yes, I have one precious daughter… she was born into the arms of Jesus.” This is my answer, my story, now.

Paige Abigail was, and always will be, our first child. She is the beautiful blessing that made me a mom and us a family of three. Her story, our story, is not the one that we would have chosen for ourselves, but it is the one that God has entrusted us with, and one that I am honored to tell.

Being a mother has been my dream ever since I can remember. It wasn't long after my husband and I got married that we began dreaming of starting a family. After almost a year of waiting and praying for God’s timing, our lives changed forever. We found out we were expecting! The beginning of my pregnancy was smooth and full of joy and excitement. My days were spent researching the safest car seats, strollers, and bassinets, reading book after book about being a godly mother, and daydreaming about rocking our baby to sleep in a woodland-animal themed nursery. I could hardly believe it was all real. We soon found out that we were having a girl, and we fell even more in love with the miracle growing inside of me. Instead of Baby Fleming, she became Paige Abigail. We knew it was the perfect name for her the moment it came to mind. The name Paige means “young servant,” and we couldn’t wait to teach our girl how to honor God with her life and to be a servant of the Lord. Little did we know, Paige would serve the Lord in a very different way than we would have ever planned.

When Brendan and I went to the doctor for our 20-week appointment, we were nothing but excited. It had never crossed our minds that something could be “wrong.” Every previous appointment had gone perfectly. One simple look though—the look on a heartbroken doctor’s face—instantly changed everything. Although I was 20 weeks along in my pregnancy, Paige was measuring almost four weeks smaller than she should have been. While the world seemed to be spinning around me, some of the only words I remember hearing were “get in to a high-risk specialist right away and be prepared for there to not be a heartbeat at your next appointment.” There was just no way to know what to expect. We enlisted our prayer warriors right away, and the prayer chain that resulted almost instantly was so humbling.

It felt like weeks in between that appointment with our doctor, and the appointment with the specialist. When, in reality, it was only two days. This new doctor confirmed what we had already heard. We had reason to be very concerned. Over the next couple of weeks, and through the countless tests we had done, our biggest prayer was that God would “just keep her little heart beating." I held my breath and clenched Brendan’s hand at the beginning of every ultrasound. But our loving Father answered that prayer—that plea—time and time again. Not only did that little heart keep beating, but it got stronger and stronger at each appointment. Each time, I felt like God was giving us a little glimpse into His goodness and faithfulness, and Paige’s personality—strong-willed and full of life!

We continued to cling to the hope that God would weave all of this into a miracle. Even after all of the tests that we could have possibly done were completed, no one could find any reason as to why Paige was not growing as she should be. The only thing we knew was that she was suffering from severe restricted growth and there was nothing we could do but pray. We continued to add more and more prayers to our list for God, and He answered so many of them clearly, faithfully, and lovingly.

I started keeping a journal of all the prayers we shared with the Lord, and how He continued to answer them one after the other. Because it was so evident that God was working in our lives and in Paige’s life, I found myself thinking, “Surely He is working this hard for a reason. Surely He is going to heal her and let her be our miracle baby!” We prayed that Paige would just hang on long enough for her to grow big enough that we could deliver her and then fight to keep her alive outside of the womb. This was the one and only prayer that God chose to answer very differently than we had asked.

At around 27 weeks, Paige was having to fight harder to grow even the smallest amount. Her heartbeat was strained, and her tiny body was starting to fail. All our doctors recommended that we start “preparing” for our daughter to pass away. How do you even begin to do such a thing? I have never felt such a roller coaster of emotions. Hope, joy, and grief danced together simultaneously. I had an enormous amount of hope—hope that God was going to show us a miracle of healing. If Jesus waited until after death to heal Lazarus, maybe He was waiting until this dire moment to heal our Paige. I hoped with all my might! I knew He could! And in the very same breath, I started grieving and allowing God to prepare my heart just in case His will for Paige was different than our prayer for her.

Then one day, in the middle of crying out to God, my heart somehow seemed to soften. My prayer shifted. Instead of the all-consuming prayer for a miracle, I began asking God to just take care of our little girl and do what was best for her and for His glory. It was a hard prayer to swallow, but I handed it all over to God. He knew how badly we wanted our daughter in our arms, and I knew that His heart ached right along with us. I knew He would only do what was best for us. Best for Paige. Best for His glory. I found so much comfort in knowing that either He would heal Paige and allow her to be safe in our arms, or He would take her home and set her gently into the safe, loving arms of her Savior.

I spent the last weeks of Paige's life savoring every single moment and being very intentional with how we spent our time together. If God ended up deciding to take her home with Him, I knew there would be a lifetime of memories here on earth that we would miss out on with her. I decided we would make a different memory together each day while that strong heart of hers was beating here on earth, right next to mine. We set out on "adventures" together. The kind of adventures that every mom looks forward to sharing with her daughter, and I chatted with her all day long through each one. We went to the nail salon, went shopping and on picnics together, read aloud the Gospel and spoke about how much Jesus loved her, met Daddy for lunch, and watched sunsets as a family of three. I will never forget the joy that I felt on those days. Grief, hope, and joy simultaneously walking hand-in-hand.

I have no doubt that God kept our sweet girl's heart beating as long as He did, partly, so that we could share in those precious moments together. And I'm thankful every day for that time. I know there are so many other stories of loss that come unexpectedly, without a chance to slow down and cherish the simple moments before the goodbye. But God graciously gave me the opportunity to tearfully, but confidently, whisper to Paige, “Keep fighting as long as you can sweet girl, but if Jesus comes to you and says, ‘well done, now come with me,’ it’s ok love, take His hand and follow Him home. I love you!”

Nine weeks after that 20-week appointment, nine weeks longer than the doctors said she would probably live, Paige’s heart stopped beating. I will never forget that moment in the doctor's office when our doctor told us Paige had gone home. Our doctor left the room, and the first words that were exchanged between my husband and me were, "She is with Jesus!" Then came the hardest tears mixed with aching grief and praise-filled joy all at the same time. That day, August 22, the day that we delivered our baby girl and got to hold our Paige Abigail for the first and only time, was filled with a peace that only God can provide. A peace “which surpasses all understanding” (Philippians 4:7).

I look back now, months later, and am still in awe of the peace that God allowed us to have on the toughest day of our lives. While lying in that hospital bed, I knew the pain that was still to come. Meeting and saying goodbye to a child all in the same breath was never the way God intended it to be. But despite knowing how difficult it was going to be, I simply couldn’t help but feel excitement and pride in the fact that we were about to hold the beautiful creation that God had fashioned just for us.

Those hours that Brendan, Paige, and I got to spend together after she arrived are treasured memories. Although Paige was with the Lord already, wholly restored and dancing in His glory, we treasured the chance to get to sit together as a family of three here on this side of eternity. We got to marvel at God’s handiwork in the form of ten tiny fingers and toes, amazed at how much intricate care He had put into the life of this 10-ounce baby girl. I am so thankful for God’s presence and the merciful peace that He gave me that day, but there were many days following Paige’s birth when peace seemed like a dream too far away to reach.

After leaving the hospital with empty arms, time seemed to slow to a crawl and there were days that, quite honestly, just felt impossible. It seemed hard to believe that there would ever be a day again when I wasn’t sporting a tear-streaked face and puffy eyes. One day at a time, though, with the support of an incredible husband and family and friends nearby, things started to get “easier.” I dove deeper and deeper into God’s Word, and He still continues to reveal beautiful truths of His loving faithfulness every step of the way.

Within just hours of saying goodbye to Paige, God led me to Hope Mommies—straight into the arms of a group of women who caught my tears in those first painful weeks and who understood, all too well, the pain of losing a child. He forged new relationships for me with members of our church community, and opened a door for a new beginning of teaching at our church. God never left my side. He has beautifully revealed His presence every step of the way. Not only has my relationship with our Lord grown so much stronger through all of this, but my desire to share His love with others has grown, as well. I can’t help but smile when I get to share God’s love and faithfulness with others through Paige’s story. This “young servant” is serving God in such a different way than I could have ever imagined.  

To this day, we still can’t find answers as to what happened to cause our pregnancy to turn out this way. I’ve learned that maybe we’re not supposed to know. The why isn’t as important as the Who. Maybe we’re just supposed to trust that God allowed it to happen for our good, Paige’s good, and His glory. All we do know is that Paige was “fearfully and wonderfully made” (Psalm 139:14) and was made for heaven. We still ache daily to have Paige here with us. There is a little part of my heart missing now. But at the same time, I thank God for sparing her the hurt, pain, brokenness of this world. She will never have to know any of it. Instead, Jesus was the first thing she saw when she opened her sweet little eyes. The first arms that ever held her were those of our Savior. Paige’s story didn’t end on August 22, 2018. It began! She has already impacted so many lives, and I know that her story will continue serving the Lord in mighty ways. I look forward, eagerly, to the day when I get to hold my daughter in my arms again, and to an eternity spent with her and the Lord in the fullness of His glory.

“Do you have kids?”

“Yes, I have one precious daughter. She was fearfully and wonderfully made, and born into the arms of Jesus.”