House on the Rock

It was quite a start to 2024. I had already taken more medication, spent more time on bedrest, been in more hospitals (for myself, anyway), and dealt with more physical pain than all of 2023 combined. And it was day 4. 

I woke up on January 2nd around 1:00 AM to abdominal pain more intense than anything I have felt in my life. Heating pads, medication, and belly rubs couldn’t touch it. Twice I told Joe we needed to go to the ER, only to talk myself out of it and fall into a shallow, fitful sleep. Profuse bleeding stained our bathroom floor and I secretly hoped I would die. Not suicidal — just that much pain.

Our gracious boss nearly insisted I take the whole week off to heal — physically and emotionally. Considering I couldn’t even get out of bed, I didn’t fight her on it. I got to enjoy four really restful days at home, moving slowly from the couch to the bed and back to the couch. Reading, drawing, writing, sleeping, praying, watching movies, weeping. And really, healing! It finally felt like some healing was happening in our hearts. We were free from the logistical calls and medical decisions — we were able to truly be still. 

In that time of reflection, God brought me to a place of peace. People kept telling me it was okay to doubt, to be angry, to question His plan and pour out my frustration, but I really didn’t feel like doing that. Maybe I was in denial of my feelings or maybe I was suppressing, but I actually just think I could see the goodness of God in the landing of the living. I knew His heart was for me. I trusted that the world is not supposed to be this way — this was not how He designed it! And I rejoiced in the hope of Psalm 113:9 — “He gives the barren woman a home, making her the joyous mother of children. Praise the Lord!”

This is our God! This is who He is. He was (and still is) grieving with us. He has given us a ministry opportunity that we might not have wished for, but can rejoice in. And best of all, He saved our precious baby. We believe life begins at conception, and we believe the life of our baby knew no suffering — no pain, no sickness, no opportunity to sin. And now that precious life resides in eternal glory with Jesus, and my mom, and dozens of dear friends’ unborn babies that I didn’t even know about until we lost ours. (Seriously — I can’t believe how many people I walk with on a daily basis, never knowing they endured this type of loss). 

So we grieve, but not without abundant joy and hope. One night at dinner, Joe brought up the idea of naming our unborn baby. We never got to see their precious face or learn their gender. We never heard that pitter-patter heartbeat, but this baby is very much a part of us. Part of our family. Our child, the life God gave us, if only for a moment. It feels wrong to keep referring to this gift as merely “baby” or “it”. 

After sorting through all the Alex-Sam-and-Charlie gender neutral names, we landed on Taylor. I had always secretly wanted to name a baby Taylor in celebration of the work God did in my life during my time at TU. We sat on it a few days before Joe finally came back and said, “I’m set on Taylor!” 

It was settled. Taylor House. Conceived sometime around October 18th and home with Jesus by December 25th. Forever a part of our hearts, our family. When I looked up the biblical meaning of the name Taylor, my eyes filled with tears. The name translates to “clothed with salvation.” What a beautiful reality for our precious babe! Clothed with salvation has been this child’s story from beginning to end. 

We might not have ever gotten to swaddle this baby, or dress them in that adorable onesie Joe picked out for Christmas. We didn’t get to clothe them in all the mittens, socks, and hats I had added to the registry. But we can say with complete assurance that he or she is clothed with salvation because of Jesus’ blood, and I can’t think of a more beautiful garment than that. The onesies of this world will tear and be stained; the robes of salvation granted by Christ will never spoil or fade. What a sweet and beautiful treasure to behold!

So baby Taylor, we love you. We miss you. We mourn that we never got to meet you or dress you or cuddle your sweet baby body. But you’re clothed with salvation, and that is better by far. We cannot wait to see you again some day, and to hopefully call you by name. Your new and forever-in-our-hearts name: Taylor House.