The Choice to Stay
A Letter to the Version of Me Who Didn’t Know Yet
*trigger warning, near death experience
Dear Melissa,
You did such a good job. You held that baby in your womb as long as you possibly could. You sacrificed so much to bring him into the world. And you did. He’s here. He’s healthy.
And now, you are dying.
The nurses haven’t been pushing on your stomach to help your uterus contract. They don’t know that you’ve been hemorrhaging internally. You’ve been complaining about pain and complaining about pain. Maxed out on the pain meds, the nurses have grown frustrated with your complaints.
Until you were no longer able to complain.
Darkness.
Voices. My name. Someone shouting my name.
Blackness.
Pressure. Pain. Sharp pain. Unbelievable pain.
Blankness.
Beeping from every direction.
Blurred faces—dozens of them. Some on my left, some on my right—digging into an artery, many more at the foot of the bed. Six hands pressing down. Hard. Too hard.
I scream—no, Nick would say later, I moaned, something raw and inhuman.
I gasp—air like fire in my throat. Hands press down—why? What’s happening? Darkness swallows me whole.
The smell of antiseptic. Someone calls my name.
And always, always, Nick at the back of my head, behind the bed, rubbing the top of my head, whispering he’s here, he’s here, he’s here.
Gone again.
Darkness.
Darkness.
A voice. My name. Pressure and sharp, sharp pain.
Darkness again.
And then
Light.
A conversation. A choice. “You’ve done well. You can stay. It would be absolutely okay to stay. You would not be giving up.” I see their faces. Nick’s, Annabelle’s, my new baby boy, Warren’s. “If you go back, I can’t promise it will be easy. It will not be easy.” I’m so tired. So very tired. I made a choice. I could feel the pull of their love anchoring me.
I went back.
Remember. Remember you are a warrior. Remember you chose this. Remember their faces. Remember the love. The joy.
“Yea, I say unto you,”… “that there could be nothing so exquisite and so bitter as were my pains. Yea, and again I say unto you”…“that on the other hand, there can be nothing so exquisite and sweet as was my joy.” Alma 36:21
You didn’t know yet, what He meant about it not being easy.
You didn’t know yet, how deep suffering could go.
You didn’t know yet, that it could get harder than this.
You didn’t know yet, that the only way to feel exquisite joy is to know exquisite pain.
But you will.
You will learn what He meant when He said it would not be easy.
You will know what it means to learn to walk through darkness and into light.
And always, always, the ones you love will anchor you home.
Embrace this gift of life.
Hold on.
Keep going.
This life—this choice to stay—is still unfolding. And there is joy waiting for you in the days ahead.
“Help is closer than you know
And you've got Angels always around you”
With Love,
Melissa
Beautiful. I'm literally crying ❤️