In March of 2009, I was really baby hungry. REALLY baby hungry. I wasn't sure how that could be since Chris was still unemployed, I was working nights, and we were living at my parents house. Not exactly ideal baby conditions. Well I went to visit my very very best friend (pregnant best friend, mind you) in Milwaulkee for a few days and we painted her nursery and talked about all things baby. I was so wanting a baby that, on the plane ride home, I was actually calculating my cycle and how we could possibly manage another baby right now! I talked to Chris and of course he didn't feel right about it. We agreed, circumstances were not good. Fast forward two weeks and guess who was a few days late. I think I barely waited two days before getting a test. It was positive! Very confusing and scary but also just what I wanted in the midst of everything else that seemed to be going wrong.
A few weeks later I started spotting. Although I didn't spot with my first miscarriage (before Ben), I knew what it could mean. But I didn't want to think the worst. I remember being on my knees, praying to Heavenly Father to please just let this one thing go right. I knew I couldn't handle losing a baby on top of everything else. I just couldn't. I called my OB, who thankfully, I was working with at the hospital at the time and he was very understanding about my whole lack of insurance thing. He ultrasounded me for free and there was no heartbeat. Crushed. It was happening. I couldn't afford a D& C, so we were going to wait it out. Did tons of lab work. We waited weeks. Did more lab work. And weeks. Tried some medication to get things moving. Continued to wait a couple more weeks. I was a mess inside and trying to be happy and deliver other people's babies at the same time. Finally, the end of May, it passed. Finally, it was over and I was filled with relief.
Fast forward about four to six weeks, and I was flying out to Salt lake City to meet up with Chris and the kids who were spending a couple of weeks with the Smith family in Idaho. All the little kids took turns with the stomach flu and by the time I was heading home to go back to work, I had it, too. Three or four days passed once I was home and I was still sick. Chris and the kids arrived home on a Sunday night and I remember Chris being surprised that I was still feeling so yucky. Then it dawned on me...the pregnancy? What if? My mom ran to the store and bought me a test. It was positive. Now we were totally confused. Surely I wasn't pregnant, again, was I? I was pretty sure the little one from May was still hanging on, or at least the hormones were. I called my OB again and he did another ultrasound, only to find out that this was a new pregnancy and I was 4-5 weeks along. Now do the math. It's the first week of July at this point. I miscarried the end of May with no period since before that pregnancy. How is this even possible? Labs were done and sure enough, this was a new, viable pregnancy. I was excited, feeling as if we were really meant to be having a baby at this time, but oh so confused!
The next few months flew by. Chris' kidney issues, the new job, the big move, new house, new school, you name it. We did it. I worked through the morning sickness as best I could. Thankfully I don't get that sick because we had so much going on. I remember feeling like something was "off" with this pregnancy though. Didn't have the same pregnancy symptoms I was used to having, and I just couldn't bring myself to document every minute like I had done with the other kids. I figured it was everything else that was going on. I kept notes on the important things and figured I would catch up later.
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| This is the only picture I have of the pregnancy. Taken August 28th so I was about 14-15 weeks. I had just bought this baggy dress because I had already grown out of everything else! |
We moved into our house on Labor Day. Our new insurance through Chris' work went into effect on October 1st so that was the day I made the 20 week appointment to see my new OB. (It was with a woman who came highly recommended when I called the hospital and talked to the L&D nurses about their physicians.) We told the kids a week before the appointment. They were so excited to have a new brother or sister! Nick told me one day after school that he thought we should call the baby "Joe." We both laughed at first but for the rest of the week, he talked about the baby a lot, always sweetly referring to it as "Baby Joe." The morning of the appointment came and I just really felt like Chris needed to come with me. I thought it foolish, but still wanted him to. It was weird. So I told him my feelings and he was happy to come along. Thankfully I had met a girl at church a week or so earlier and she was willing to take Ben for me. I dropped him off early afternoon and when she wished me good luck, I told her, "If I am not back in a hour, something is wrong." It ws such a strange thing to hear myself saying at the time, but I think I already knew something wasn't right.
Sure enough, Dr. Morris spent 20 minutes searching for a heartbeat. We were complete strangers so she was trying to be very positive about it all and I was trying to act calm, like it was no big deal. Finally she told me that she was sending me to the hospital for an ultrasound to check on baby. That's when I started crying. And didn't stop. Chris drove me to the hospital where a radiologist confirmed that the baby no longer had a heartbeat. It looked as if the baby was closer to 16-17 weeks in size so even though I thought I had felt the baby move the previous night, I hadn't. We were escorted to a floor in the hospital where we were asked tons of questions and then put in a room. A sweet nurse came into the room and hugged me. Then she told me I needed to get my gown on and she would get things started. It was at this minute that I realized what was actually going on. I was in Labor and Delivery, and I was going to have deliver this baby. I completely lost the tiny bit of composure that I was barely hanging onto. I was sobbing and arguing and threw myself into Chris' arms. Surely this wasn't happening. I just wanted a D& C. Why couldn't they do that?! I just felt myself crumble like I ahd never felt before.
The next day seemd to last an eternity. Chris got me settled and then went home to figure out what to do with the kids. We didn't know anyone except the friend that had been watching Ben. (A nurse herself, she had decided earlier in the week just to ask for the weekend off to spend with her family. I am certain this is not a concidence for we would not have known what to do without her help.) Very selflessly, she volunteered to take the kids until I was out of the hospital. While Chris was gone, I sat in that bed, so confused and sad and dying inside. I think I might have called my mom. And then I sent a text out to family and a couple close friends, letting them know where I was and what was going on. I figured if I did that, no one would ever ask me about the baby.
The nurses came in frequently with all kinds of questions I had never considered. Did we have a name chosen? Had we considered funeral services or what we wanted to do with the baby after delivery? Did we want to hold it? I didn't have answers for any of these questions. When Chris returned, we came up with the best answers we could at the time, with the help of a dear friend in Rapid City: No, we didn't have a name. We had been waiting for the ultrasound to tell us the gender before we chose a name. No, we did not want funeral services. The hospital memorial for babies would be fine for us. And the hospital could follow standard procedures for the body once we had seen it and held it. making these decisions brought more agony.
The night was a long one. The nurses were in every couple of hours, giving me medications to put me into labor. It took a while, since my body knew it wasn't time for a baby. Chris stayed with me and tried to sleep on the daddy bed next to mine. By about 8am the following morning, my contractions were regualr and strong. Much stronger than I expected they would be, considering the size of the baby. I delivered on Saturday, October 2nd, shortly after 9am. My doctor and the nurses were wonderful. The room was so quiet and they handled our little tiny baby boy so carefully and sweetly. They wrapped him in a little white blanket and brought him to me. He was tiny, but he was perfect. I counted all his fingers and toes and kissed his forehead. The doctor had said that, since he was still so young, if there was a genetic abnormality of some kind that it would be physically obvious. But he was perfect. I couldn't figure out what had happened to him. But here we were, staring at this baby that we loved more than we could have ever imagined. I remember a few things vividly: the baby, the fact that I was happy while I held him, Chris' reassuring comment of "well we are just going to have to get you healthy and then see about trying again" and him sitting on the couch, kind of crouched over the baby while he held him and cried. I knew the stress of life was causing him to hold back any excited baby feelings he might have had earlier in the pregnancy. But now I saw the love he had for this little one and how badly he wanted another child and that made really helped me. The stress we felt at the beginning of this pregnancy was nothing compared to the loss that we felt now. After what seemed like a long while, the nurse came in and asked if we were ready for her to take him and do some footprints and photos for a memory box. We let him go. And the nurse brought me some medication so I could sleep.
It took 3 or 4 hours to deliver the placenta. I was thankful that I didn't need a D&C for that because delivering it was almost harder than the baby. After that, I wanted to go home. I hated being in the room with the little fallen leaf sign on the door indicating a loss. I wanted to see my kids.
The kids were so sweet. Chris had been home earlier in the day and sat down and talked with them about what had happened. They made precious cards made for me, telling me they would always love me. I cried. I cried more over the next few weeks (months?) than I can ever remember crying. For the first time ever, Chris and I were grienving over the same thing and we did it so differently. I wanted to talk and talk, he wanted to forget it ever happened. My body did tons of crazy things. It was as messed up as my head was! The weird thing was that as much as I was thinking about the baby and what had happened, I didn't want to open his memory box. I didn't even want it in the house. Chris had set the bag that held it on top of the freezer in the garage and it stayed there. For months.
I don't remember when it was, but I was feeling really sorry for not naming the baby while we were in the hospital. I talked to Chris about it and we decided we would hold a special Family Home Evening with the kids and offer a prayer with a name for him. After talking it over, we decided to name him what Nick had been calling him all along: Baby Joe.
By January, I was doing better. I was ready to enter the room next to ours, the nursery, for the first time since October. My mom was coming to visit and I felt like I needed to get the room cleaned up. When the day to do it finally came, I asked Olivia to come in with me. She talked constantly and I listened to her while I worked and organized and put stuff away. I was so grateful for her company. We vacuumed and then closed the door. We didn't go to the parents memorial service for all the babies that died in 2009. Initially I wanted to, but just couldn't stand to go once the date arrived. I wanted to grieve alone.
Baby Joe's February 28th due date came and went. I had been anticipating it being a sad day and appreciated when a friend invited me over for lunch that day. I think I got a pedicure, too. It was nice to be on the other side of it, not waiting for it to arrive.
By May, my body was getting back to normal. I was finally starting to lose the baby weight and get a semi-normal cycle. Emotionally I was feeling better about it, too, more like myself.
Today, nearly a year later, I still wonder why all of this had to happen. I don't know God's will, but I do know a few other things... I know that Baby Joe (and our other two little babies, too) are in a safe place being taken care of until I get there. I know our family truely is together forever and that my Heavenly Father loves me too much not to have a purpose in all of this. I know that this has made me a better, more grateful mother. I know that good things can come from really difficult situations. I also know it's okay to cry, and I still do once in a while. It usually catches me off guard....like last fall when everyone, everywhere seemed to be pregnant except me. Or when I got asked to host a baby shower weeks after losing Joe. Or the time I swear I felt my milk come in when I was in Target and there was a newborn crying. And sometimes I just cry a little inside but I know that each day gets easier. I get asked all the time if I want to go back to work but right now I know that Labor and Delivery just isn't the place for me. And I also have come to know, after talking with a friend who has experienced the same thing, that much of the hurt and disappointment that I feel will only be relieved by another pregnancy. That is not to say that Baby Joe will ever be replaced, because he won't, but I know that through another pregnancy, I will regain hope in my body and in the miracle of healthy babies.
I've found some things to be thankful for through all of this, too. I am thankful that Nick talks of "Baby Joe" regularly and that they have not forgotten the brother they have in heaven. During the summer, we were visiting my parents over a Sunday and my mom taught Nick's primary class. The lesson was on siblings. Nick was quick to say that he has "a brother here on earth and a sister too and another brother in heaven that died not too long ago." I am thankful that he knows we are a forever family. I am thankful that Chris and I decided to be married in the temple so that this would be possible. I am also thankful for an eternal perspective. It brings me such peace to know that this is just a small moment in God's plan for me. And I am thankful for Chris. We have had a hard year in many ways. We have been through an awful lot. But we are working hard on ourselves and on our marriage and I am thankful to be working on all of this with such a wonderful man. I know he loves me and I know he loves our family more than anything else in this world.
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