I knew this day was coming

Today was THE day.

I got the hospital records today.

I was looking forward to this, but still I was quite nervous to know what they said, too. Our family doctor requested the records for me a few weeks ago and today I picked them up.  She took a few minutes to read over some parts with me.

According to the records our baby (Ella) may have been as old as 30 weeks. . . .wow. . . that was really hard to hear. I'm not sure how that would be possible based on her size, but I suppose if she wasn't growing that could explain why she was so small.  She probably wasn't any younger than 26 weeks.

It was strangely comforting to read the records.  I mentioned in a previous post that even though I held Ella for what I thought was a long time, I wish I had held her so.much.longer.  I was grateful that someone from the hospital took the time to examine her.  I don't know how long an exam like that takes, but it meant a lot to me that someone spent that time with her.  We requested that they not do an autopsy, we felt like her little body had been through enough already.  So they did a Gross Examination - which means they recorded everything they could tell about her just by looking at her, no cutting.

I learned that:
* the two placentas were fused together
* the cords were inserted in different positions, one in the center and one (Ella's) more on the side, I think.
* she had no birth defects
* there were no knots in the either cord
* she was a little swollen and red
* she had all her fingers and toes ( I did hold her long enough to know that myself, I was just glad someone else had documented that)
* she was 15 oz.
* she was 12 and 3/4"
* her skin was very, very delicate, wrinkled

There are more things I learned. I wrote them out but deleted them. Ultimately I felt they were too personal to share.

It's funny, but it made me feel better to know that she had no birth defects, and had all her fingers and toes.

Also, I know that what I saw, and what the pictures show isn't who she really is.

When I close my eyes and imagine what she looks like, I see a happy little girl about three or four years old with curly blonde hair, fair skin, blue eyes, and a big smile on face with a handful of freckles sprinkled across her nose. She's spinning around in a little dress and it's like my brain is using that camera setting that makes all the edges blurry. . .  do you know what  I'm talking about?  That is how I picture her in my head; little, happy and beautiful.

The Angel Garden

While I was recovering in the hospital Ryan and my dad went to visit a local cemetery to see about burial arrangements for Ella.

Ryan wrote this post about his experience:

When we found out what happened with Ella our Bishop made some calls to funeral homes in the area, and he found one that told him that they had an area designated as the “Angel Garden” and that the total cost would be about $500. Traci’s dad and I made an appointment to go visit with them. We planned to stop in, chat with someone briefly, then see the Angel Garden and finalize everything. In my mind I pictured a nice, serene place, perhaps in the middle of the cemetery or along a tree-lined area, with a white fence around it and a beautiful sign that said “Angel Garden” with perhaps a statue and a few stone benches for parents to sit on as they visit the gravesite.

 We met with the funeral home director and she had obviously been trained to talk really slowly and try really hard to be empathetic, because she would talk so slow and say things such as “Oh…I am…sooooo…sorry for your loss…” and “This must be….so…difficult….I am soooo……..sorrry….for your loss.” She proceeded to, slowly, go through some pricing, and it turned out the $500 was only part of the fee. At one point she excused herself and said someone else would be in, and it was the cemetery director. She had additional costs, such as a tombstone and some other fees. In the end it was going to be about $1500 and we had spent over 90 minutes there. I asked a few times if we could see the area, and she would say “we can do that at the end.” Finally when we were almost done I said “I would really like to see the area – can we do that now” and she reluctantly said we could. 

We walked out together on the main road within the cemetery that runs parallel Business Loop (the interstate) and after we walked about half a block she said “This is it.” I looked around and said “Where?” She pointed to a small area on the right side of the road we were on, to a grassy area next to the Business Loop. 

I looked at it and it was full of junky, broken toys and had some weeds in it.

 She said that it is a difficult area to maintain, because they don’t feel that they should ever move the toys, so the caretakers just have to weed whack around them. 

I asked if they ever cleaned up the toys once they get broken and she said no. 

I asked where Ella would be buried, and she pointed to a spot that had some toys on it. I asked why there were toys there, and she said that families aren’t required to get a headstone in that area, so there are a few unmarked graves, and one of the moms was certain that her child was buried there, even though the cemetery showed her that her child was in a different spot. 

The Business Loop is busy and I asked about that – she said they put up a temporary wall during services. Not too far from the area are bars and tattoo parlors, along with grocery stores, car lots, etc.

 I walked away from the whole experience feeling sick – the whole thing just felt wrong. Traci’s dad and I talked about it quite a bit as we went throughout the day. He felt the same way I did. I discussed it with Traci and the thought of putting Ella there did not feel right at all.

This is Traci now:

It was a very hard decision.  We had concerns about burying Ella there. 
* What if we ever move out of the area? 
* Would we feel comfortable going to that part of town to visit her grave? 
* It would be heartbreaking to leave her there in an area of the cemetery that doesn't seem to be maintained.
* It just seemed so wrong to bury this innocent little child across the street from a Singles Bar.  
* Wouldn't we be sad to see other people's broken toys strewn all over the area? (YES!!)
* What about the traffic?
* What about the weeds?




What we wanted was a 

peaceful, 

quiet, 

beautiful place 

of dignity for our baby  to rest.



This was not it.




We could not leave her there, but we had to do something.  

But what choices are there?


We talked about creating a memorial for her in our yard, about making our own beautiful Angel Garden.  Maybe a child's sized bench with a plaque? Maybe a little statue of an angel or a fairy.  What about a special bush or tree?  What about a swing-set as a memorial? What about a balloon launch?  We liked all of these ideas.  

We had this vision of a beautiful, peaceful, happy place, like what Heaven would look like for a child.


And we also have something else that is a great comfort (in addition to Emma).  We were given a very special gift from the hospital.  They provided us with a beautiful, lavender,  rice paper box with keepsakes for Ella.

We had the sweetest nurse I've ever met. 

She so sweetly bathed our Ella, carefully dressed her in her itty-bitty clothes, and took some very special pictures of her.  

She put Ella's tiny clothes, 

her little hats,

her seashells, 

a bracelet, 

and photos 

in the box for us.  




* This we COULD take with us. 
* This was beautiful.
* This was dignified.
* This was clean.
* This was personal.

After thoughtful conversations with my husband, he and I decided to have the hospital help us take care of Ella's body. 

And now we don't have Ella, but we have the box.

I am so glad we have that box.  It sits on a shelf in my closet. I know right where it is.  We have that and it is so much more dignified than a weedy plot next to the Interstate.

Maternity Photos and More

Sometimes I miss being pregnant. 

You might think my next sentence might be something about how I don't miss the indigestion or my CrAZy swollen ankles or the other very uncomfortable discomforts of pregnancy. 

But . . . 

. . .  I sort of do miss those things because it meant that Ella was there.

About a week before our babies came, my friend asked if she could take some pictures of my kids. Photography is one of her hobbies and I was happy to help her practice. =)

She told me she usually likes to do maternity photos around 37 weeks, but she said since we were all there we could take some anyway. If you've been reading my blog you already know that I didn't make it to 37 weeks. 

I've never done maternity photos before, but I am so.glad.we.did.

I love seeing how happy I looked that day.  

Here are some of my favorites:

He still absolutely LOVES those babies!  BOTH of them.  (But that's a post for another day.)

Here are some of my other favorite photos she took that day:

I SUPER love the red barn in the background and of course I lubby those girls in the picture.  =)

Sammy.

(What else can I say?)

Pure joy!

How could I not post Abby's beautiful face? So beautiful!

I love what the wind is doing to Eliza's hair.

And just so you can see how swollen my ankles actually were, I am very bravely including this one:

This isn't actually my ankles, I just stumbled across it when I was looking for the one with my ankles, but I just really like this one.  (If you don't know my family, this is me with all my sisters and my poppy at Eliza's baptism in March. That's a pretty happy papa!)

I have some great photos with my mom and my sisters, too.  But I'll have to get mom's permission before I post those.  =)  I've heard it's easier to ask forgiveness than permission. I'll have to mull it over.

And for the grand finale.  Drum roll please. . . . . . .

Here are the swollen ankles I told you about, those wrinkles aren't usually there and I was totally SHOVING my feet into my shoes. This photo is also from Eliza's baptism in March. (I should do a post about that.) I am 30 weeks pregnant in the photo.

*Disclaimer, we don't usually put Sammy in SANDALS with socks for formal family photos!!  Yikes! I don't think we remembered to bring his Sunday shoes with us.  Oops! Also not sure what he is doing with his face, but he makes me laugh.  =)

Have a WONDERFUL DAY!

What do we tell our other kids?

We didn't know how to do this.  There is no instruction book that I am aware of.

How do you tell your kids that their baby died?

I still don't know how we did that, but we did.

After we had spent a night at the hospital Ryan went home and picked the kids up at a friends house.

Our plan was to tell them about Baby Ella first and then take them to see Emma.

We brought them all into my hospital room and closed the door.

We weren't sure what words to say. But it was really important to us to not hide anything from them.  We decided to be completely honest about what had happened.  It was only a little tempting to maybe not tell them about the twin that had died to protect them from the hurt, but this was their sister, too.  We thought we would want to know so even though our kids are young we felt we owed them the same respect.

We both felt that they probably didn't need to see her or hold her, we felt this was the right choice for us.  I had been visited by Social Workers who were kind enough to listen to my story and were supportive as we made decisions pertaining to Ella.

I don't remember who told them or the exact words we used, but I think the conversation went something like...

"Do you know what a twin is?"

Eliza says "Yes."

We hesitate a little, unsure of how to tell them, but we say, "Emma had a twin.  There were two babies. But the second baby died. She died in mommy's tummy a little while ago. You have two new sisters, but one is already in heaven. Would you like to see some pictures of her?"

"Yes."

We showed them the photos.  Her hands. Her feet. Her face.

She was in a sweet little blue dress that someone had lovingly hand smocked.  There was a tiny white hat on her itty-bitty head.  Her skin was red, wrinkly and very delicate.

Our three year old said he was a little scared to look at the pictures.  She was red and he told us he had never seen a person who was red before. He told us she looked like a bear.

We told them they didn't have to look at the pictures but if they ever wanted to we would always be happy to show them.

We asked them if they had any questions.

They didn't.

We asked them how this made them feel.

"Sad."

We told them her name was Ella.

They were so brave, they didn't even know how brave they were.  To this day I haven't seen them cry.

We thought it would be comforting to see Emma after we told them about Ella, so then we took them to the Intensive Care to see her.

Sammy having his temperature taken

First photo.

(It was hard to know what to write for a caption under this photo, I thought do I put "First picture with all our kids?"  because it is, but it isn't.  I just chose "first photo.")

They are so in love with their little sisters!

Grace and Meeting Ella

My midwife leaves now and I'm left alone with our little girl that didn't make it.  I'm holding her and trying to process everything. 

Now that  I'm alone I take a minute to call my mom, I'm still shaking from the delivery.  I wasn't sure how to tell her.  I reached my dad first and just told him that we had a girl, of course he is excited, but I don't mention the twin yet because I need to talk to my mom about it first, it's a mother daughter thing and I don't think I can say what I need to say more than one time.

I finally get her on the phone and tell her we had a girl. I tell her that the baby is doing great, and Ryan is with her. I'm still shaking and worn out so I try to say only what I need to say, "There is something else I need to tell you (I pause. . . what do I say now?) there was a twin."

Gasp.

I tell her that the second baby is a girl and that she had passed away several weeks ago.

I think she asked if the baby was stillborn, I think I said no - because I didn't know how you define it, but I learn later that when a baby dies after 20 weeks they are considered stillborn.  Death before 20 weeks is considered a miscarriage - at least according to what I read. Officially, the hospital told us later Ella would have been between 26 and 30 weeks.

She tells me they will be getting in the car very soon to start their drive.  I can't remember if we said anything else.

But I do remember that I asked her to please tell everyone else in the family for me, I just couldn't do that right then.  

We say good-bye.

Being alone with this baby was unlike anything I had ever done before.  I'm an adult, but I think I've only been to around 7 funerals in my whole life.  I have not been around death.  I had no idea how this was supposed to work.  I held her for what I thought was a long time, but looking back I wish so much that I had held her infinitely longer. I touched her face and held her close. She was so tiny. Her skin so delicate. I remember I used my ring finger to touch her cheek. I had never seen a person this small.  She looked red and so helpless, but that simply wasn't true.  I will always consider what she did for her sister noble and great, not something a helpless person would do.  

Strangely, I felt at peace.

I have lots of questions.

First Question:

Do we name this baby?
Do we not?

I wasn't sure.  We hadn't really talked about girl names, because:

1. We kind of thought we were having a boy &

2. We weren't due for another 5 and 1/2 weeks, so we thought we had plenty of time to come up with a good name.

Ryan and I have this really bad habit of choosing names that are always on the TOP TEN list for that year. We don't mean to, we just happen to like those names. We'll pick out a name we like and THEN check the list and yep, it will be on there.

For the past few weeks, I had been day dreaming of holding a little "Baby Emma" in my arms.  Yes, I even did that thing where you close your eyes and pretend you are holding a baby.  Did I already mention I really wanted a girl? Ryan had mentioned once using my middle name for a baby girl. . it's Rae.  I liked that idea before the babies came but now, Rae didn't seem to fit.

Ultimately, I felt I really would like to give a name to the second baby and I thought Ella would be a nice name and would go well with Emma.  Ryan and I usually like to choose Biblical names for our kids.  One name we had discussed was Miriam.  So at this point, using the conversations I had had with Ryan as a reference and our new need to name twins, I had come up with the names Emma Rae and Ella Miriam for the babies. But of course I wanted to talk to Ryan about it.

When I couldn't stand it anymore, I asked my nurse if she would please find my husband and tell him I would like to see him.  I want to know how the baby is doing.

It isn't long before he gets there.  He tells me about the baby. She has the usual wires on her chest to monitor her breathing and heart rate. She's on antibiotics because they are afraid she may have developed an infection from being around the other baby - an infection is now their biggest concern.  She's also on probiotics to help counter the negative affects of the antibiotics. Now that she is here, I know she is going to be fine, mother's intuition, and I feel like they are over doing it a little . . or a lot, but that's just me.  Remember me?  I'm the girl that wanted a home birth.

Emma 5/3/2012

Emma 5/3/2012

Ryan holding Emma in the NICU

Ryan and Emma

He tells me that the two different nurses had called our baby Grace or Gracie.  Grace - what a perfect name for this baby, especially considering the circumstances of her birth.  I tell him about the names I had been thinking of and we decided on Emma Grace and Ella Miriam. It felt right.

Emma means whole, complete. Grace of course refers to the grace of God.  I love her name.  Because of the Twin to Twin Transfusion Syndrome usually one baby is "better fed" than the other. Emma was so filled out for a 5 pound 34 weeks old baby - it was evident she had been well fed. Ella was so small, but her sacrifice made her sister strong.  So although Emma is without her twin, she is whole because of her.

My sister calls me later on and asks me how we choose Ella's name. I told her basically what I wrote above, she says, "Do you know what her name means?"  I didn't know what Ella meant, but I had a vague idea about Miriam.  She tells me all of the meanings for Ella, "all light, beautiful fairy, one from heaven" and Miriam means "from the sea of bitterness."

Ella Miriam
It was perfect and I love it.

Next Question:

What do we tell our kids?

It's a girl part two & Trust in the Lord

Back to my story. . . (If you haven't been reading along so far, you should probably at least go back and read It's a Girl - this post will make a lot more sense if you do.)

. . . It all made sense.

When this realization hit, I was in the room with just our midwife, who was now a dear friend, and holding our little girl that we wouldn't get to keep.  I wanted to tell my midwife why I felt this made sense and share with her what I knew.

I told her that for months while I was struggling through this pregnancy I asked my husband numerous times to give me a Priesthood Blessing. I explained to her that in our religion we believe that worthy men are given a power to speak for God.  And that when they give a blessing, a special prayer for someone, they are given ideas that Heavenly Father wants them to share.

The blessings were always the same, talking about The Plan of Salvation and trusting in the Lord. The blessings also told us that this was a very special baby.

I was confused and worried that something scary would happen either to me or to our baby. Thus the many months of anxiety.  How do you go on living a happy and peaceful life when you think you or your baby may die?

I wasn't prepared to leave my family.  This thought absolutely terrified me and that filled me with guilt. And I didn't think I could handle losing a baby, I couldn't imagine the ache and didn't want to consider either possibility so I would push them to the back of my mind.

The blessings never once said anything like "Everything would be OK" which was what I wanted them to say, and later found out that that was exactly what Ryan wanted to say, but that wasn't what Ryan felt like he was supposed to tell me.

Later, after we had a moment to talk about everything that happened, Ryan told me this story:

When I was a freshman in college I had just recently received the Melchizedek Priesthood and had never given a blessing before. Sometime that first semester some girls who lived on the floor below us asked if I could give one of their roommates a blessing because she was really stressed. I quickly looked up the procedures, then went down to give her a blessing. During the blessing I got the distinct prompting to NOT bless her to do well in school, but I ignored the prompting because I thought “of course she needs to be blessed to do well in school – that is part of what is stressing her out.” I proceeded to bless her to do well in school then finished up the blessing. Later that day one of her roommates came up and asked why I blessed her to do well in school. I said that I felt she needed that, and her roommate told me that she had just dropped out of school and was having a hard time with her testimony, and was upset that the blessing included that. She didn’t understand how a blessing, if it really came from God, would include that. I learned an important lesson that day – to listen to promptings. I have always tried, since that day, to really listen to the Spirit as I give blessings.

When Traci would ask for blessings during the pregnancy I wanted to say, more than anything, that everything was going to be fine with the baby. I never could though, because I didn’t feel that I was supposed to. The blessings all had a familiar theme – Trust in the Lord and in His plan and timing.

Oh. I thought after I heard that.

I gained a new respect for my husband and for his courage to say only exactly what he felt he was supposed to say.

And I know that God knows us, knows who we are and what our struggles are and I am so grateful for the way he prepared my husband and I to face the loss of our baby.  And I am so grateful that I have a baby to hold in my arms to bring me comfort and so much happiness Every.Single.Day.

It's hard to explain, but I am really happy, we all are.  One of the gifts from Ella was an increased appreciation for each one of our children - and for each other. I think that's how I can feel sadness for our loss, but so much joy at the same time.

We are so blessed.

March 2012

Nauvoo, Il. August 2012

 And we are so happy!

To learn more about the Plan of Salvation click here.

Maybe it was a mistake

So I've been avoiding trying to figure out exactly when Ella died. But today as I was sitting at my desk using my calendar and planning things for our family to do this fall, I decided to count back from when our babies were born (34 1/2 weeks) to when the Medical Records say that Ella died, sometime between 26-30 weeks.

Maybe it was a mistake to try to figure it out, but I think deep down I knew that one day I would want to know.

So according to my calendar 26-30 weeks would have been anytime in March.

March.

I'm guessing early in the month.

What was I doing then?  I've sort of blocked it out.  I was busy.  I taught a Children's Choir Class that month AND held a concert.  I also taught a workshop about sprouting - I was on my feet for 2 plus hours and my feet we sooo swollen the entire time - I sat down anytime I had a chance. I taught a few voice lessons, Ryan redid our closet, and we attended three Child Birth Classes on Saturday mornings.

Looking over my calendar I remembered that right around week 20 I felt both babies move, even though I didn't know there were two.  I was working on a song on my laptop and I had the computer play it back for me so I could listen to what I had done.  The whole time the music played it was like a little circus was performing in my tummy.  The babies were so squirmy and it was obvious they were responding the to music because they hadn't been active until I turned it on.  I love this memory.

Around week 20 I wore a maternity dress to church for the first time!  This was the first clue most people had that I was pregnant!  At 20 weeks!  I had a tummy, it just wasn't a big tummy then. It's so hard to believe I was expecting twins and and at 20 weeks people were just starting to figure out I was pregnant.  This baby was hidden!

It sometimes is harder as time goes by because she seems more gone.  I've heard it's normal for people to be afraid that they will forgot the person they lost, I feel that way. I am afraid that one day I'll just forget it happened and forget that she was there.  I don't want that to happen.

Yesterday Sammy was praying that "Emma and Ella would be healthy" He loves his little sisters so much! I thought his prayer was so sweet, and I wouldn't dream of correcting him.  I'm glad he prays for Ella. He says that when he dies he'll take his toys with him so Ella can play with them. Such a sweet boy.  I miss our baby - having said that, I have so much to  be grateful for and I am not complaining, I am very blessed, and somehow I am very happy, too - if you can believe that - it's true. But I do feel like something is missing, my husband said he does, too. I miss that baby - but I worry more about how are kids are handling it.  So far I think they are doing great.

Sammy with Emma 8/16/12

Anyway, long, random post.

I'm actually grateful I looked, so not a mistake after all . . . it makes Ella seem more real.  I love her so much!

Now back to planning our Fall activities.

The Support Group

Today I went to a Family Support Group.  I wanted to see what it was like.  And to be honest, I felt a little out of place.  Everyone was sharing their story about losing a child and I shared my story, too, but I didn't really feel like I fit in.  I feel like my situation is different. Not to minimize what happened to us, but I think what those families went through was a lot harder than what I experienced. Maybe there is a different group out there that I can relate too better.

So, we sat around tables in the shape of a square.  There were a variety of people there.  A few had lost young babies 3-4 months old, one had lost a 2 1/2 year old and another had lost their 17 year old just one month earlier.  Then there was me - the baby we lost was a surprise. It's a different situation.

I don't really think I'll be going back.

I totally yelled at the Doctor

I don't think I'm much of a "yeller"  . . how many of  you have heard me yell?  (It doesn't count if we're related.)

I had LOTS of reasons for not wanting to cut the baby's cord right away.  I had fully intended to NOT have the cord cut for somewhere around 10 minutes to . .. however long I felt like it.

(Here is just one article about waiting to cut the cord: Wait to cut Umbilical Cord  - I'm not here to convince anyone to wait, but that's what I wanted to do.)

I had told our new Doctor that earlier that day and he was fine with it, after talking to him I felt like I could manage to have a somewhat peaceful delivery - pretty opposite of what actually happened.

So the when my Doctor wasn't there when it was time to catch the baby, another OB stepped in and I do appreciate that. I don't blame him for what happened, but I was still ticked!

So he comes in, catches the baby, says "it's a girl!" and IMMEDIATELY CUTS THE CORD!! Didn't even ask, and I realize that most people don't mind and I'm sure he did it out of habit, but I DID mind. There was no handing me the baby so I could nurse her right away, there was no letting me see her first, just CUT!  I was so MAD!

When I realized he had cut the cord I said or perhaps more likely I yelled, "You cut the cord?  Why did you do that!!?"

He said something like, "She was cold, I had to get her to the warmer."

I was so mad!  I know I already said that.  Then I say  in a very loud voice, "WELL YOU COULD JUST PUT A BLANKET ON  HER!" or even better put right on my stomach so I could nurse her, but I didn't think to say that.  So that was the most coherent thing I could come up with right then, remember, I didn't have any pain medication (my choice) so I was a little/a lot on edge right then.  Then trying to regain my composure and smooth things over I tell him, still probably loudly, "I am not mad at you, but I REALLY did not want you to do that!"

Then he introduces himself. . . I don't remember his name.

Temples

I saw this on Facebook today from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints:

The temples in Kansas City and St. Louis have blessed thousands of members in Missouri and surrounding states. How have these temples blessed you?

I felt like I was directly being asked that question.  Because this has been on my mind lately.

How have these temples blessed me?

Well, for starters, we visit the St. Louis Temple whenever we get a chance.  It's a home away from home.  I remember a particular visit when I was so stressed with something . . . OK I'll tell you what it was.

When Sammy was about 17 months (March 2010) we had found a lump in his leg and we were freaked out! I thought he had cancer - but he acted so healthy, it just didn't make sense.  The short version is this, we saw a handful of Doctors until we found the right one who helped us by referring us to kindest radiologist. We had an ultrasound test done on his bump and it didn't look like cancer, WHEW!  What a relief, but we didn't know what it was so he sent us on our way. 

We were about 10 steps from our car when this amazing, kind man ran out of the radiology building to stop us.  He said, come back inside lets see if his lymph nodes are swollen, too.  So we did and they were. Which meant Sammy had probably been bitten by something (a spider?) and his body was just fighting it off.  The bump (the site of the bite) is still there but the swelling in the lymph nodes is gone - it took 6 months plus for the swelling to go down, which is normal by the way.  He will probably always have the original bump, scar tissue.

 When this was going on we visited the St. Louis Temple and when I was there I felt the weight of the world being lifted from me.  I just sat and allowed myself to absorb the peace that surrounded me. I needed that. I feel peaceful just remembering that.

But more recently my thoughts have been turned to the Kansas City Temple.

Two weeks before our babies were born (it's nice to say "babies" by the way, I haven't really done that a lot - I'm still unsure how I'll handle that), anyway, about two weeks before the babies came we had the amazing opportunity to tour the Kansas City Temple.  

Temples are important to our family. They are a reminder that if we are worthy, our family will be reunited after we die.

When we took this picture of our little family in front of the Kansas City Temple, I had no idea at the time how special this photograph would be to me.  I wish now I hadn't hidden my belly behind my kids, like we pregnant ladies sometimes try to do. . . some of you know what I'm talking about.  =) 

Hard to believe I was carrying twins.  

 Emma's name is "Emma Grace."  Emma means "whole, complete" and Grace means "God's love."
And one day because of Temples and because of God's love, our family can be complete, whole.

You can learn more about Latter-day Saint Temples here.

Something I Regret

It's been over two months since everything happened, and I'm not done writing my story, but I had something I wanted to share.  This morning I woke up and decided to check out "Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep"  it's a non-profit organization that takes memorial photos of your baby.

Our sweet nurse had asked me if I wanted to have them come. At the time I told her I did not. I'm really not sure why, except that I didn't fully understand what they do.  

I wish I had said yes, but I didn't know how  much it would cost, so I said no.  I found out this morning it would have been free.....  I wish I had had them come take pictures, but I didn't and now I can't undo that.

However, we had the sweetest nurse that did take pictures of the baby we lost.  She took pictures of her hands and feet and even dressed her in a tiny baby gown and itty bitty hat.  I have those picture and I cherish them. I have the hat and the gown, too. I can't even express how much they mean to me.

I wish I had had "Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep" come photograph our baby, but I am so thankful that our nurse took some very special pictures for us.  I will forever cherish those.  

My advice is TAKE PICTURES if you find yourself in this situation. And if you have a friend in this situation, gently encourage them to get photos, they won't regret it, but they will regret NOT doing it. Whether you do it, or your nurse or an organization like "NILMDTS" take pictures!  You don't have to look at them all the time, and I don't.  It's hard to look at them, but i'm glad I have them to remember our other little daughter.

I guess it isn't uncommon for people to be afraid they will forget the person they lost.  I can relate to this, having pictures and a few mementos help.

A very thoughtful Aunt sent me a beautiful bracelet with the baby's name engraved on the back.  The top says "forever" - this is one of those nice mementos. It does make me feel better to turn it over and see the baby's name.

Our nurse also made some hand prints and foot prints of the baby and for Mother's Day my husband gave me this:

I LOVE IT!

The smallest little hand is Ella's - our sweet little angel. One of the things her name means is "beautiful fairy"  I think that is appropriate.

It's a girl

The team from the Infant Intensive Care is pressuring me to give them the baby so they can take her to intensive care.  I really wish I would have started nursing her right then to delay her departure, but I'm so confused and overwhelmed it's hard to articulate much less figure out what I want right then.

What I really wanted was for everyone to slow down and give us some privacy.  What I really wanted was for a moment alone with Ryan and both babies.  What I really wanted was the chance to hold both babies at the same time. What I really wanted was an explanation, but no one offered one. What I really wanted was for someone, no LOTS of someones to tell me that this was not my fault. No one said it was my fault, but no one really said it wasn't either.

But the Intensive Care team won't wait.  I very reluctantly hand them our first baby and make Ryan go with them.  I don't want her out of his sight.

The room clears and I'm left alone with a nurse and my midwife.  The nurse brings over the second baby and although she was rather brusque before the delivery, when I didn't want any pitocin, etc., now she is more humane.  She brings the second baby to me, the one that didn't make it.  This baby is much smaller.

"I think this baby was about 22 weeks, based on the baby's weight and length.  At first I thought this baby was a boy, but when I looked closer, it was evident it was a girl."

Wow.  Two babies.  Two girls.  One here and one, not.  We thought we were having a boy.  This was my hardest pregnancy, but it was similar to my pregnancy with my boy, so logically we thought we were having a boy.

And then, I realize everything makes sense. . .

The Birthday part two

Around 3p.m. I still hadn't started having contractions and the hospital staff was wanting to start me on poticin. At the suggestion of my midwife, I start using a breast pump to produce oxytocin - to stimulate contractions, I really want to have this baby with minimal interventions.

But I wasn't really ready.  I wasn't sick of being pregnant yet.  I hadn't gotten so uncomfortable that I would rather go through labor than continue being pregnant and for so many reasons, I was scared.

Thankfully, the breast pump works and in less than two hours I'm having hard contractions, one on top of the other.  I'm so glad I didn't need extra meds. to get things going.

Things are happening fast and the baby is coming, the Doctor isn't there yet, but I wasn't going to wait, so another OB steps in to catch the baby. The baby comes out crying. It's a girl!  I am thrilled.  I had secretly hoped for a girl from the beginning.  I am so happy. In spite of the circumstances, everything is perfect. I start telling everyone in the delivery I had hoped for a girl. I feel so relieved, baby is here, crying. She's doing incredibly well for being so early. I'm happy I could deliver with minimal interventions.  Happy the baby's head was down. Happy to have avoided a c-section. Happy my midwife was there coaching me the whole time.  Happy someone was watching my other kids.  Happy my parents were getting ready to come and Happy my husband was by side.  I.could.not.be.happier!

But we weren't finished yet.  I just needed to deliver the placenta and then we would be done. This is the easy part, I thought to myself,  feeling more relaxed than I had in weeks.

Our doctor gets there to deliver the placenta. He's already in a bit of a mood, I find out later he really HATES to miss a delivery. I don't blame him.  He doesn't get paid if he doesn't catch the baby. Placenta is delivered and a nurse starts to clean it up to dispose of it and I say, "Leave that there, I want to look at it."  She apologizes. I like to see what the placenta and cord look like.

But, something was wrong.  The doctor doesn't react favorably, we're looking at the placenta and he reaches on top and tears open a little sac. I don't know what it is at first.  The Doctor doesn't say anything but he is really somber. I'm still confused but I start to put the pieces together.  I've never seen anything like this.

"Is that another baby?" I say. 

He doesn't respond and all the people who are waiting to clean up the messes and take the baby to Intensive Care grow quiet.  Time stands still.  We're all in shock.

It is another baby, but this baby didn't make it.  This baby was hidden, we had no idea we were carrying twins. 

I say something like, "It's OK, we didn't know."  Those words haunt me now.

They are trying to whisk the first baby off, and Ryan and I need time to process everything.  

The baby is all cleaned up and they hand her to me for a quick hold before they rush her off to the NICU.  

Someone takes this picture: 

It's not like any of the other pictures we've taken with our previous babies.

We went from such joy, and relief to complete shock, and confusion - within about 30 seconds.

The Birthday part one

It's early in the morning, about 6:00 a.m. I'm 34 and 1/2 weeks pregnant and barely awake.  I'm exhausted from the day before (see The Flood) but feeling better than I did through most of my pregnancy.  Planning on going for a walk this morning, but that's not going to happen.

I wake up fully about 6:20a.m. My water broke.  I'm freaked out!  This is really early. I wake up Ryan and he calls our midwife.  I'm sick to  my stomach, not just because the baby is going to come early, but because the baby has been breech!  It still makes me a little sick when I think of that morning.  

I've been doing exercises to try to get the baby to flip and go head down without any changes yet. My midwife comes to our home and we transfer my care to a Doctor at the hospital. No home birth now.  We're too early and we have an upside down baby.  So stressed!

Ryan makes a few calls and drops our kids off at a friend's house and we head to the hospital.

We check in and have an ultrasound to check the baby's position.  I tell them we don't know what we are having and don't want to know till the baby comes out, so PLEASE don't spoil the surprise.  (We thought it was a boy.) Ultrasound tells us baby is. . . HEAD DOWN!  I ask if they can see the placenta, if it's in a good place, they said it looked fine. I'm trying to rule out a c-section. Maybe my water broke when the baby flipped, we don't know, but we are so relieved! The likelihood for a c-section practically eliminated, I'm just so elated. Not many doctors are comfortable delivering breech babies these days, this is big news!

I finally have a minute to call my mom.  She wants to know if it's a boy or a girl, I told her I still didn't know.  She's going to pack like crazy and come out with my dad, 6 weeks earlier than they had anticipated.  She asks me to call when the baby comes to tell her if we had a boy or girl.

Relieved about baby's position, but now a new stress surfaces, no amniotic fluid means we want the baby to come within the next 18-24 hours.  I'm not in labor, so no pressure, right?  Wrong.  How am I going to do this?  I want to avoid any unnecessary meds if I can, including pitocin and epidurals.

I start walking around the hospital with my husband and my midwife.  Walking can help jump start your labor - but I couldn't feel any change.  Still stressed, but my midwife, who was now acting as a doula, had a few tricks up her sleeve.....

The Flood

May 2nd. . . 6 weeks before our baby was due. It was a good day.  (It was the best of days, it was the worst of days.)  We visited our adopted Grandma that morning and on the way home we stopped to buy some cream so we could make homemade butter.  I was feeling like such a fun mom. Letting my kids make homemade butter = FUN!

We get home, have a snack and start shaking the cream.  We were almost done when Eliza says, "Mom, there's a LOT of water on the floor!"

"Great!!!"  I think. . what has Sammy spilled this time?  I turn and expect to see 2 or 3 cups of water of the floor, but instead I see GALLONS!  GALLONS! I am not kidding! GALLONS!  

The water seemed to be coming from the next room, the laundry room.  I opened the door to see water pouring out of my washer.  The floor is covered 2-3 inches deep in water. Oh dear.  I keep a lot of food storage in that room.  There were buckets of grains and beans etc. - LOTS of heavy buckets, a 20 lb. bag of rice, a box of sweet potatoes. 

I stopped the washer and called my husband in a panic.  The conversation went something like, "hey, honey ummmmmmm, we have a problem. . .the washer has been over-flowing."

"Do you need me to come home?"

I can't believe I hesitated at all before I calmly replied, "Yes, I do think it is an emergency." Why was I so calm? no idea.

I did what I had to do, and started frantically cleaning up the mess, moving heavy things that I probably shouldn't have been moving, lots of heavy things, like those buckets.

We spent the rest of the day cleaning up mess after mess related to the flood.  

Some of our grass seed had been soaked when water leaked from the laundry room into our out door storage area, so we were frantically planting grass and sucking up water from EVERYWHERE with a wet dry vac our friend let us borrow.

When I couldn't stay on my feet another minute, I grabbed a water bottles for everyone. We sat in the shade relaxing with the kids while they were putting mint leaves from our square foot gardens in the water bottles. I remember thinking that even though I was incredibly worn out, I was so happy.  Sitting outside with my family on such a beautiful day.  We were all home together, working hard together to clean up the mess and even having fun.  It sounds crazy but I distinctly remember how happy I was and didn't think it made sense under the circumstances, but I wasn't going to question it. We were happy = a perfect day.

I don't remember what we had for dinner, probably applesauce, maybe toast, doesn't matter, I was happy.

We fell asleep exhausted, I was planning on doing nothing the next day, just resting. 

But nothing had gone according to my plans that day and apparently that trend was going to continue.  And about 6:20a.m. the next morning, with the contents of the laundry room still spread over every surface of my kitchen, my water broke.

Why do I have this blog?

Welcome!

Why do I have this blog?  That is the question.  I needed a place where I can put whatever is going on in my head.  I have a lot of interests so I needed flexibility, I needed variety, and I needed spell-check.

Sooooo get ready, I don't know exactly what's going to show up here.  You and I may both be surprised.

Traci