Loss and Hope

For a long time, Spencer and I struggled with the decision to have a fourth child.  Our children bring us much joy, but they each have their unique challenges and we weren't sure if it was the right thing to add more chaos.  But at the same time, I couldn't find peace with not having another child.  We decided to move forward with faith and trust in the Lord.

The moment I saw the plus sign on a positive pregnancy test, I was filled with so much joy and excitement. So much excitement that I even took a picture, which seemed like a silly thing to do, but I wanted to remember the feelings of happiness I had at that time. Previous pregnancies, I felt some slight anxiety to go along with excitement and joy, but this time, I just felt so happy.  It had been long enough between pregnancies that I was excited to be pregnant and have a baby again—sleepless nights and all! With Amelie and Liam in school and Emmett in preschool, I felt that the time with small children at home was passing, and I was looking forward to just one more.  This pregnancy, my fourth pregnancy, was also my easiest.  The nausea I felt was pretty mild and I didn't feel nearly as tired as I had in the other pregnancies.  I felt it was such a blessing since I was busy caring for the needs of my other children.  For the first time during a pregnancy, I was actually running several times a week and feeling really great about that too.

the only pregnancy picture I took, about 11 weeks

On Wednesday, December 28, I was 19 weeks, 6 days pregnant and had a midwife appointment scheduled for that morning.  I woke up early with a feeling of unease about the baby.  I had never felt very strong movement from the baby, and something just didn't seem right.  I expressed my worry to Spencer who lovingly assured me that likely all was well and worry was something I did during pregnancy.  I felt like he should come with me, but I put the thought out of my mind as silly.  I went to so many of these appointments and it would be a quick in and out.

As I arrived at the doctorss office, I chatted with the check-in nurse about how excited we were to find out the baby's sex in a few weeks.  I chatted with the midwife, Letitia about how Emmett was so convinced it was a sister that he referred to the baby as "her".  She set up the Doppler and that's when I knew.  I have had the midwife struggle to find the heartbeat at 10 weeks, but never at almost 20 weeks.  She brought in the small ultrasound machine and also couldn't see a heartbeat, so she grabbed the ultrasound technician to look, and when she couldn't find anything even the midwife said "It's not looking good."

I called Spencer to come down right away.  Thankfully, my parents were still in town visiting to stay with the kids.  They are truly angels who are always here when I need them.  It is not a small miracle that my mom has been here for every one of my babies right when I need her.  Those 20 minutes waiting for Spencer felt like an eternity.  I couldn't hope—how could she not find a heart beat three different times and there not be something wrong?  I opened the Gospel Library app on my phone and took great comfort in this scripture from Isaiah 53 that happened to be open "He is [...] a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief" and "Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows."  The waiting was so hard, but I also felt a comforting peace from my Savior who I knew had felt my pain.  I knew it would be okay, even if it wasn't okay.  When Spencer finally arrived, they took us into the ultrasound room and confirmed that the baby was not alive. At this point Sharon, the midwife who delivered Emmett came in as well to talk about what would come next.  At this point in the pregnancy, I would have to deliver the baby, which was a painful thought.  Sharon suggested we go home and think about when we would come back for delivery and she would call me later to arrange the details.

We came home and told the children, which was so hard.  Sometimes I find sympathy makes me even more emotional, and the sweetness of each child compounded my own sorrow.  Emmett, ever the sensitive boy, just gave me a big hug.  Amelie keeps saying she wants a new baby.  Liam keeps saying "that poor baby.  It's so sad." Their innocence has been both a blessed comfort and an additional burden as I contemplate their sadness as well as my own.

I decided I wanted to deliver the baby as soon as possible because it felt too painful to still be pregnant while not really being pregnant.  Unfortunately, when I called, they told me that it would need to be in the morning because they were too busy.  It surprised me how much it pained me to think about these healthy deliveries, even though I knew that's what the midwives do.  It ended up being a blessing to wait until morning so I could get a good nights sleep and start labor rested.  Letitia recommended I take a Unisom so that I could get a good nights sleep, and I know that did help. Having Spencer and my Dad there to give me a blessing especially helped.  I felt so sad, but not weighed down by the sadness.  I could feel the power of the Atonement not removing my pain, but carrying me through it.

Thursday, December 29, should have marked 20 weeks of pregnancy-the halfway mark.  Instead, we arrived at the hospital at 7 am to induce labor to deliver our stillborn baby.  At this point we still didn't even know the baby's sex.  It was painful to explain that I was here to deliver a stillborn baby to the receptionist. It was painful to walk by the delivery rooms with the baby warmers all set up—thankfully they put away the baby warmer in my delivery room.  I was flooded by memories of Emmett's delivery and the contrast with my hopes and expectations for this delivery compared to the reality.  I didn't really know what to expect from an induced delivery of such a tiny baby.  It was hard to contemplate not hearing the precious cries of a newborn placed in my arms following delivery.  And most pressing on my mind was the thought of facing the pain of labor.  Having two natural deliveries, I was well acquainted with the level of mental focus and calm it takes to get through the pain.  I wasn't sure I could mentally endure the physical pain without the promise of a sweet smelling baby to cuddle after.

Yet amidst these fears, there were so many blessings.  The first answered prayer was about the on-call doctor.  Because there is a higher risk of problems with the placenta, the on call doctor would be present for the delivery.  I have only seen the midwives during my pregnancies and had heard really good things from several women about Dr. Madura and Dr. Shafer.  I prayed that one of them would be the doctor attending and by a miracle, Letitia, the on-call midwife, said Dr Madura had switched with another doctor so she was on call.  I was also grateful Letitia was on call since Sharon and Letitia are the two midwives I know, (there are two I still have not met).  Yet, even though Sharon wasn't on call and had spent the whole night delivering babies, she stayed with me. She cried with me, she answered my questions honestly, but kindly, and she was there to deliver my stillborn baby — something that must be challenging for a health care professional as well.

The midwives told me that the medication they use to induce labor can make it intense, so they told me I may want to consider pain medication as the emotional pain on top of the physical pain can be a lot.  I wasn't sure I wanted to face the physical pain of labor, but I also know that I have felt a lot of strength from natural deliveries and I did want that.  When Dr. Madura finally came in, she had much more experience with stillborn deliveries and she said most of her patients don't need an epidural because by the time the pain gets that intense, it's over.  That gave me a lot of encouragement, and with that, we started the induction and waited.

They said it could take 2-3 doses of the medication to fully work and each dose was administered every 4 hours, so we planned on being in for a long, hard day.  I spent most of the day binge watching HGTV because it was brainless enough that my thoughts could drift but entertaining enough to distract me when I needed. An hour after the medicine was first placed, I started to feel mildly crampy—nothing terrible, but I was glad to know it was working.  For the next several hours, not much happened.  I was much more emotional when we first arrived, but as the monotony of waiting wore on, I felt more peace and calm.  The sadness would come in waves.  I would feel fine and peaceful, and then I would think about seeing my baby—who wouldn't be alive, and my heart would break all over again.  The greatest comfort I had through the day was Spencer.  He is so calm, steadfast, soothing, patient, and understanding.  He is my rock through all of life, and especially through this most challenging delivery. He was there to hold my hand, offer comforting words of encouragement, hug me.  I could not get through half of any of this without him by my side.

Two hours into the second dose, I started to feel more intense contractions—enough that I was walking around and having to breathe through them.  It still felt like early labor, but much more intense than I had felt earlier.  This difference between these and regular labor, was they came back to back without any relief—at least they weren't unbearably strong and I didn't have back labor like I did with Amelie and Emmett.  At this point, I felt such peace and calm beyond my own, and I know this was a blessing from the Lord.  Just about the time Sharon stopped by to check on me, things started getting very intense.  I was on my knees next to the bed and my body was shaking.  I have never felt nauseous during labor before, but I felt quite ill.  Again, the contractions were almost non-stop for about 5-10 minutes.  I really needed to go to the bathroom, but I couldn't get up because contractions were so overwhelming.  Finally, Spencer helped me and I got up and went to the bathroom.  Sharon had left to get her scrubs on and by the time she came back, contractions had nearly stopped.  I was relieved to get a break and a little worried that I was in for worse—I had hoped the end was near.  We chatted with Sharon for a few minutes about books and travel and then it was about time for my third dose.  As she went to place the third dose, she realized that I was ready to deliver, even though the contractions had slowed to almost nothing.  She and the nurse hurried to set the delivery up and went to get Dr Madura, and then we waited.  It was easy pushing, and not painful at all, but contractions were mild and several minutes apart so there was a lot of waiting.  That was hard for me.  I felt the heightened anticipation made me feel more emotional.  When I finally delivered, the baby was still in the amniotic sack and the placenta was attached-which they told me was basically the best case scenario.  Dr Madura was so matter of fact and business-like but kind.  It was so quiet and calm, everyone talking in hushed, soothing tones.  They took the baby to clean him up and wrap him up for us to hold.  He was much smaller than expected and it had been a little while since he passed.

Seeing him and holding him was hard.  Sharon, Dr. Madura, and all the nurses did such an amazing job of treating him as respectfully as if he were our living child.  They gave us all the time and space we needed, cried with us and hugged us.  When everything was cleaned up and they had finished up what they needed and left, that was the hardest time.  That was when I felt the quiet and the emptiness and the loss.  That's when Spencer and I felt impressed that we needed my parents to visit with Liam, Amelie and Emmett.  I told Spencer that if I didn't have a newborn baby to cuddle,  I needed to hold my big babies.  Hearing the newborns in other rooms crying was strangely comforting as it reminded me of the beautiful experiences I had with my three children, and I needed to hug them.

Having them come ended up being a sweet and special experience for us all.  I cried as I thought of my hopes and anticipation of having them come to the hospital to meet their new baby brother and how different this would be.  We planned on not having them see the baby but they each asked to see him, and I was so glad they did.  My dear nurse even cried as she brought the baby for the children to see.  Liam was very curious and asked a lot of questions, and Emmett too, but Amelie seemed the most sad by it.  They wanted to know why he died and where he was now.  We hugged and talked about how we were sad he was gone but also how much we loved them and what it was like when each of them was born.  In the end, I felt like I wanted a picture of the five of us to remember how special the feelings were, even if we didn't get to take our baby home.  He is a part of our family and although I don't know to what extent the children recognize and feel the loss, I know they do because I know they looked forward to having a new baby in the house and this is hard to understand. I wasn't sure I felt strongly about giving him a name, but the children wanted to name him.  Liam suggested Alexander.  Spencer and I settled on Elias Alexander.  Elias refers to a title of one who is a preparer or a restorer and Alexander for Liam.

The past few days have been very emotional for me.  I have felt sorrow and loss over this baby and the hole he has left.  I have felt an overwhelming peace and comfort from my Savior.  I have no doubt that He has walked with me and borne this burden with me.  I have felt such love and gratitude for my dear husband and awe for the miraculously healthy three children we have.  I have felt the power of the covenant to mourn with those who mourn—from family, friends, and the exceptional health care workers.  Having someone to hug and cry with has helped ease the burden even further.  Some trials I have had have been lonely trials, difficult to share with others, so I have found so much comfort from being able to share this with others.  I feel much sadness, but I don't feel weighed down by it; I also feel hope.  I know that the next few months will be full of emotion as many things will remind me of the loss.  But I also know that I will be okay, that I may always feel the loss, but it won't always be painful.  When I was pregnant with Liam, I had some spotting and feared a miscarriage.  A source of worry for me was not knowing if he had a spirit that really belonged to me. A very comforting doctrine of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is that couples who have been sealed in the temple are promised our families for eternity, so any child that dies is still your child who you will see again.  There is no official doctrine about unborn babies, and this was hard for me when I was pregnant with Liam.  Now, I feel much more peace at not knowing.  I know that this loss matters to me, to my family, and to the Lord, and I trust that He will make up all of our losses. I know that this baby is ours to love and to mourn. (For more information on these doctrines, see here, and here.

As I reflect over the last three days, I am filled with so much peace that this was the Lord's plan for our baby boy.  I feel so sad because I miss him, but I'm not burdened with wondering why.  I feel peace that he fulfilled the purpose he needed to and that this trial will be a blessing for our whole family.