17 weeks, 6 days

It’s been a while. Things have been pretty normal, growing kids, Lawrence working, and me staying home and doing the mom thing. But at the beginning of July we got a big surprise.  Baby number 5 would be joining our family in February. It wasn’t exactly our timing, but we were excited. I didn’t really waste any time sharing the news, at least not with family. Mr. E was excited, J was excited because E told him to be, and Princess A was clueless that her time as the youngest was coming to a close.  A few weeks later was the first appointment. An ultrasound was done to confirm the due date and I got to hear the beautiful sound of a tiny heart beating away. Everything looked good.  Aunt Kathryn took a fun picture for us to announce the pregnancy, and at the end of August we shared the news with everyone.

"That face you make when you realize there's 6 of us in this picture."

I had some morning sickness, but it was pretty mild. A second appointment found baby’s heart quickly beating away, and another ultrasound was scheduled for mid September. I felt some tiny baby flutters around this time, which is always exciting. However, a couple weeks before the ultrasound I had a nightmare about the baby that really shook me up. I borrowed a Doppler machine from a friend and was reassured to find the baby’s heartbeat, if only for a second or two. As the ultrasound drew closer I just couldn’t shake the feeling of unease the dream had left me with and it finally came to a head the Friday before the ultrasound when I realized that I hadn’t felt the baby move in over a week, possibly longer.  So a call was made and the doctors office squeezed me in for a quick check that afternoon.

What was supposed to be a quick check quickly became a living nightmare. The doctor started by explaining that my fears were probably unfounded and lots of things could make it difficult to feel baby movement. He started listening for the heartbeat with his Doppler, but became discouraged after a couple minutes and grabbed a hand-held ultrasound. He quickly found the baby but couldn’t see the flicker of a heart beating, so he tried with the Doppler again.  It went back and forth like this for a good 20 minutes before he finally admitted that I needed a real ultrasound. My worst fear was being realized. I was sent out to the waiting room to wait for the ultrasound tech, me and my three kids. She finally called me back and started looking at my baby. I anxiously watched for the tiny flicker of a heart, I couldn’t see it.  I listened closely, and couldn’t hear it. Then the tech said the words I had been dreading, “I’m so sorry.” The tears I had been holding back wouldn’t be ignored any more. The doctor came back in and explained that I had a couple options, but wasn’t very helpful or informative, then I was led to another room to wait for my mom and Lawrence. The boys played on tablets, Princess hugged me, and sat on my lap. Mom got there first, followed by my grandpa, and Lawrence. I was given a priesthood blessing, then we left. Decisions had to be made.

When a baby dies before 20 weeks gestation it is called a miscarriage. Most miscarriages happen before week 13, only about 1% of miscarriages happen after that. I was nearly 18 weeks when we found that the baby had passed. Most of the time the mother’s body realizes what has happened and takes care of business, but often in second trimester miscarriages this doesn’t happen, such was the case with me. When the body doesn’t do it’s job medical intervention is required. In first trimester losses the most common intervention is a d&c or dilation and curretage, a surgery where mom is usually put to sleep and the contents of her womb are scraped out to prevent infection. Another option is induction of labor and delivery, where drugs are given to the mother to cause contractions and the baby is born whole.  In second trimester losses most babies are developed enough that they can perform tests to determine what went wrong and/or the body can be buried or cremated, so whichever option is chosen, it is done in a hospital. We chose the induction.  The hospital asked me to come in around 8 Saturday night, since induction can take a long time.

We left the kids in the capable hands of Lawrence’s parents and I sobbed my way reluctantly to labor and delivery.  I didn’t bother packing a bag, all I took was a stuffed elephant I had purchased earlier Friday afternoon.  They put us in a room at the end of the hall, away from the mothers who would be delivering healthy babies and I had a very kind nurse.  I hadn’t been able to eat anything since lunch on Friday and I was a bit dehydrated from crying, so they had a difficult time finding a vein for an iv, it hurt going in, and they did an ultrasound to confirm that baby was gone.  Around 9:30 I was given four little white pills called cytotec to get my labor started.  I didn’t want any pain medication or anything that would make me sleep, I wasn’t going to miss any of this. I slept on and off through the night as the contractions weren’t very painful, though I did get a minor headache and upset stomach. I received more cytotec about 1am and again around 4. After the third dose things got more uncomfortable, they offered me an epidural, but I refused. Around 6:30 I couldn’t get comfortable, I tried to sit upright, but it was too painful, so after trying a few other things I decided to lay completely flat. As I laid down I felt the urge to push, so we called the nurse. She checked and told me that I could push and be done or wait for the doctor who was about 30 minutes away. I was not ready to be done, to put this final stamp on the loss of my sweet baby, so I tried to wait. Lawrence held my hand and my sweet nurse sat quietly by my side, now an hour and a half past the time she had told me she would be ending her shift.  After a while I could feel that I couldn’t wait any more, so with one gentle push my baby came. Baby came out with my bag of waters in tact. We held the baby that way until the doctor came.  When the doctor arrived he opened the bag of waters, looked over baby, and informed us it was a boy. Then we got to hold him. He weighed about an ounce, and was maybe 8 inches long, head to foot. He had ten perfect fingers, ten tiny toes, itty bitty ears, nose, mouth, and eyes. By all appearances our sweet boy was perfect.  It was a little after 7am. We were able to hold our sweet baby and give him a name.  He is our little Thomas.

Lawrence wanted to take the kids for breakfast, as he did with the births of J and Princess. So they met him in the cafeteria. I was able to sleep for a few hours and the nurses took Thomas to the fridge to help preserve his body. A few hours later our dear friend Valery came and took pictures for us. Just as she was about to leave some women from a group for families who have lost babies, called Share, came. They gave us some more picture ideas and took molds of Thomas’s tiny hands and feet. Grandparents came to visit and Lawrence, along with his dad and mine, blessed our tiny boy’s body.  We kissed our sweet boy goodbye and I was discharged.

We decided to have our dear friend, Shawn Warenski, take care of our boy for us. He did such a beautiful job for Ethne and it was comforting to know that Thomas was being taken care of by someone we know and love. Calls were made to Herriman cemetery to try and get a waiver to their one per plot policy. The kids seemed confused and E wanted to see the baby. We made arrangements to see him on Thursday. The boys picked out a transformer toy and each got matching ones and A chose a car to give to baby Thomas. At the funeral home they each held their baby brother. Then we placed him and their gifts into a tiny casket.  On Friday we held a small graveside where Thomas was laid to rest on top of his oldest sister.

We'd like to thank all our family and friends that have been praying, helping, and supporting us this last week.  We would also like to give a special thank you to Shawn Warenski and Warenski mortuary for taking such good care of our babies, Miae's floral for the beautiful flowers, Valery Bunnell for taking pictures for us, Share Parents of Utah for being our new friends and making molds of Thomas's hands and feet, and to Herriman City and Cemetery for allowing us to keep our children together.

9 Month Struggle

After the accident I saw a lot of doctors and out of a sense of duty I asked about future children as I was cleared for various activities.  As each doctor cleared me feelings of fear and doubt began to creep in.  Several months after the accident, after all my doctors had cleared me to go on with my normal life and normal activities, and after months of physical therapy, I finally worked up the nerve to tell my husband that I was unsure about having any more children.  At the time we had Mr. E who had survived the accident and I was already nervous enough that something might happen to him, the though of another child that could potentially cause me the heartbreak of loss again scared me so much I can't even put it into words.  Miscarriage or stillbirth were certainly on my mind, especially since some of my injuries from the accident make me high risk in pregnancy.  I couldn't bare the thought of even an early miscarriage, I knew that my emotional state wouldn't bare it.  Lawrence was disappointed to say the least.  He told me that he knew that there were more children meant for our family and he couldn't bare the thought of not providing them the opportunity to have mortal bodies.  He told me that he was willing to wait for me to feel better about having more kids, but that this was something I would have to pray about.  I prayed and received comfort.  A little over a year later I came around and got pregnant.

Shortly before we decided to get pregnant again we moved into a new house.  After moving seemed like as good a time as any, I had survived one rather big emotional hurdle, why not brave another?  I really though that I was ready.  But then I got pregnant and I found out how wrong I was.  I struggled to connect with my rainbow baby during my pregnancy.  As much as I struggled I did harbor hope that this baby would be a girl, not to replace my daughter, but to maybe help patch my grieving heart in ways that I though a boy just wouldn't do.  When we found out the baby was a boy I was a little disappointed, but still wanted to be able to love him.  I continued to struggle with connecting to this baby.  I tried decorating his nursery, taking more pictures and videos of my baby bump, washing clothes for him, choosing a special coming home outfit... none of it worked.  I couldn't even bring myself to even talk to him the way I had with my first two.  Shortly before he was born I finally broke down and told Lawrence about how I had been struggling.  It was almost harder to tell him about this than it was to tell him about possibly not having more kids.  He told me that he was worried that this would be a problem and did his best to comfort me and help me.

When Baby J was born I was afraid that I would continue to struggle to connect with him, but something amazing happened.  When the doctor handed him to me after he was born I had an overwhelming feeling that Ethne was in the room with us.  In that moment I fell completely in love with my baby boy and my fears flew out the window.

Then I was put to the test when we found out about J's Hirschprung's Disease and he had to be hospitalized and have surgeries.  This was a whole new kind of struggle to keep my heart and mind open and continue loving him when the future seemed so uncertain.

Long story short (to read the rest of his story follow the Baby J tag at the bottom of this post), he is fine now and I was able to stay by his side through everything.  I was scared out of my mind and went through some flashbacks and what I'm pretty sure was PTSD, but I can't imagine not having him, I love him so much.  He has been a huge blessing to our family and has helped me heal in all the ways I was afraid he wouldn't be able to and more.  He is patient, brave, happy, and a joy to be around and I love him so completely-- we all do.

I want it to be clear that, while I struggled a lot emotionally, I wanted Baby J.  I share these things because I want others to know that they are not alone.  Another angel mom recently shared her struggles with pregnancy following the loss of her child and it buoyed me up immensely to know that I am not alone in my struggles.  The Atonement is real and I know that Christ knows my pains, but sometimes it is immensely comforting to have a more tangible friend that can understand too, and sometimes these friends are Christ's way of helping to comfort us.

Baby 36

My newest little cousin was born last night.  He makes a total of 36 cousins on that side of the family.  I won't go into details because I don't have permission from his mommy, but he could sure use some prayers and this is one of the best places I know to go when I need to ask for them.  Please pray for this precious little boy and his mommy (and the rest of his family) for me.  Thank you!

Rainbow Baby

A rainbow baby, as defined by Urban Dictionary is a baby born after miscarriage or stillbirth, but most angel mommies define this as any baby born following a loss.  It is a reference to rainbows that form after a storm that bear the promise of brighter days ahead.

Baby J is our rainbow baby.

And what a rainbow he has been.




Sometimes there's a storm and then there's some calm when the sun shines and everything seems good, a rainbow even forms, but then the storm rears its ugly head again.  Baby J's arrival was much like that.

During my pregnancy I struggled both physically and emotionally.  My body was still in recovery mode and I hadn't gotten into as good of shape as I should have.  I had pain in my hips, especially my left hip, that made it difficult to sleep, bend, and even walk sometimes.  But worse than the physical pain was the emotional pain.  I struggled to allow this baby into my heart.  I tried, but it was much, much more difficult than I anticipated.  I knew that this baby was meant for us, that he could help at least put a bandage on my broken heart, but it was still so hard to let him do that.  Until he was born.

I remember the first words I said to/about Ethne, I think I even remember what I said to Mr. E.  I am most certain of the first words I said to Baby J, I sang "Bushel and a Peck" to him.  And in that moment I felt Ethne in the room with us.  I knew that she had escorted her brother into the world, and that she was there to help me open myself up to him.  For that moment the constant ache that started when Ethne passed away abated and was replaced with incredible love and joy.  For that moment all three of by babies were, at least in spirit, on this earth and very present, safe, and happy.  It was far to short-lived, but for a few days it was very easy to reflect on that feeling and to allow my sweet new baby into my heart.  This was the eye of our storm and that sacred, special moment was the biggest, brightest rainbow I have ever experienced.





Then they whisked him away.  Ok, it wasn't so much of a whisking as much as a slow process in which the nurses made me feel like an over-protective, clueless, first-time-mom and the doctors made me worry excessively before they finally determined something was very wrong and that my baby needed more specialized care.  The storm had returned.  Now I was left with an aching for my baby that was sick along with the permanent ache of grief for Ethne.  He was blessed, tested, poked, and monitored more times than I can remember.  When he was finally diagnosed a small weight was lifted from my shoulders, the storm lightened a little.  But my baby still had to endure surgery and recover.  Two very long weeks after his birth my Baby J was able to come home.  The storm was over and the rainbow was cast, nearly as bright as the rainbow at his birth.

I am so very much in love with my sweet, happy, and gentle baby boy.  I am so grateful for the experiences we have had with him, the bad and the good.  He is such a special and brave boy that has blessed our family in so many ways.  He is a miracle, in more ways than one, just like a rainbow after a storm.  His smile lights up a room.  His beautiful red hair and blue eyes, just like his sister's, draw everyone he meets in.  I am so very, very thankful for my rainbow baby, not only once, but twice!

Happy birthday, sweet Baby J.  Thank you for being our rainbow!

At the end of the day

At the end of the day I am tired and usually at the end of my rope-- patience is running low, children are cranky and uncooperative, dishes are piled up in the sink, and often Lawrence isn't home to help (managing retail often calls for unfortunate working hours).  But, somehow this is my favorite time of the day.

Mr. E Starts by picking up his toys while I pick up after Baby J.  Then the real battle begins, it's a fight to get him to go potty, a fight to get him up to his room, a fight to get him to take his clothes off, pick pajamas, etc., etc.  Sometimes I get a little short with him while we battle about these rather insignificant details, but after the battle comes the part that always makes up for it.  After Mr. E has taken care of his hygiene, changed into jammies, and has settled down a little from the day we sit in a rocking chair and read a story.  This is our time-- just Mommy and Mr. E.  Usually we read Curious George, sometimes it's a Junior story, or something else.  He snuggles his little red head into my shoulder, grabs a fistful of hair, and we read.  I often stop to ask about colors, shapes, numbers, animals, or other details (mostly in the pictures).  He answers my questions and also points out details he likes, as well as asks questions.  After his story Mr. E says his prayer, then crawls jumps into his stuffed animal filled bed.  Then we sing.  He gets 5 songs.  Nearly every night he chooses "I am a Child of God," "I Often go Walking," "Families Can be Together Forever," and some theme song from "Phineas and Ferb," there's rarely any variation.  Sometimes he sings along, but most the time he is content to let me do all the singing.  The last part of the night is even better than the rest of it combined.  This is when Mr. E climbs into my lap, wraps his arms around my neck and I sing "A Bushel and a Peck."  He gives me  an excellent hug, a kiss (on the lips), Tells me that he loves me, then climbs back into his bed as I turn out the light.

Once Mr. E is read to, sung to, and "in bed" it's Baby J's turn.  He doesn't put up a fight (yet).  He gets a new diaper, jammies, and some warm milk, then I also read to him.  His stories are much shorter and he doesn't hold still as well, but he also tends to grab a fistful of hair.  There are no questions and answers-- instead there's wrestling the book away from grabby hands that just want to pull it into his mouth.  Then we sing too.  Baby J only gets one or two songs and, you guessed it, "Bushel and a Peck" is always on the list.  We rock, snuggle, and I sing into his ear (which often makes him giggle),   then I kiss him about a dozen times, put him in his bed, and turn out the light.

Some nights I cry.  Every night I revel in the fact that I have been blessed with another day with these sweet, rambunctious, and smart boys.  Every night I take time to thank my Father in Heaven for the blessing of my boys and of the day we have had, and to ask for more days to spend with my Mr. E and Baby J.  I treasure this time I get to spend, one on one with each of my boys.  I am reminded of how special they are and this is the perfect ending to each of my not so perfect days.  No matter how frustrating, busy, productive or unproductive the day, at the end of it I am always grateful that it happened.

Big Brother

I remember when Mr. E was born.  In the hospital Ethne was more concerned with eating pretzels than her brother, but she let us lay him on her lap to take a picture.  After we brought him home Ethne slipped easily into the roll of big sister.  She wanted to hold the baby, kiss the baby, and help with the baby.  She would fetch diapers, give him his binki, play with him, and just wanted to be the best big sister she could be.  Ethne loved her baby so much.





When Baby J was born Mr. E also visited in the hospital.  He also wasn't sure what to think of this new thing.  He didn't want to hold Baby J and he couldn't figure out why mommy kept trying to get him to.  He was also a bit jealous, whichever parent was holding Baby J, Mr. E wanted to be held by that same parent.  He kept climbing up on the hospital bed to be with me, if I handed Baby J off to Lawrence Mr. E would climb in his lap.  He did try to share fruit snacks with Baby J, which was very sweet.  Then Mr. E didn't get to see Baby J for 2 weeks because he wasn't allowed in the NICU (flu and respiratory season).  Splitting the time was so hard, but that's a whole other can of worms.  Mr. E stayed with his grandparents and was very well cared for, but it was hard for him to understand where and why mommy and daddy were all the time.  After we brought Baby J home Mr. E really wanted nothing to do with him.  We tried to get Mr. E to hold Baby J, to hug him, kiss him, play with him... Mr. E just wasn't interested.  For a long time Mr. E just played around Baby J, barely acknowledging his existence.  Rarely he would surprise me by asking to hold Baby J, or giving him a kiss.  In the last month or so Mr. E has started to help with Baby J, bringing him toys, talking to him, even holding him sometimes.  The other night I was putting Mr. E to bed and Baby J was with us, I sat Baby J next to me so I could give Mr. E a hug and kiss.  Baby J tipped over and start crying.  Mr. E was immediately concerned and wanted to kiss Baby J's bonk better-- made me tear up a little.  He has really started to step into the roll of big brother and it makes me so happy.  I so look forward to the day that they play together, fight, make massive messes, and lots of noise.

It makes me a little sad that Mr. E never got to that point with his sister, that he hasn't known the joys and frustrations of a sibling yet.  But he will, with Baby J.  I hope that they will enjoy each other more than they don't, that they will be best friends and stick up for each other.  I hope that they will learn to embrace other siblings they may have and know that they are stuck with each other forever and that they will love it (or at least learn to).  I am so thankful that Mr. E has accepted Baby J and is starting to be his big brother.

Thankful

Last year it was too difficult for me to do this, but I am going to make a sincere effort this year.  Throughout the month of November I try to make a post about something or someone I am grateful for every day.  So this, being the first of November, will get me started.

Today I am grateful for baby bump, baby hiccups, and tiny feet in my ribs.  I am grateful for sleepless nights caused by an active, healthy, and growing child.  I am grateful for the opportunity I have to be pregnant and bare children.  So many women don't get to experience this miracle, and even though I was (and still am) scared of bringing another child to this world, it is something I wouldn't trade.  I am grateful for a body that, despite many aches and pains, is capable of carrying a pregnancy and supporting not only me, but the life of another as well.

Ethne, 30-ish weeks

Mr. E about 36 weeks

BB, 28.5 weeks

Baby Corbin

I recently stumbled upon this sweet family's story.  Sweet Corbin was moved to a butterfly room today (a room for families to say goodbyes and pray for a miracle when medicine can't do any more).  Please pray for baby Corbin and for his family to receive comfort.

http://blackdiamondcelebritygifting.com/pages/corbinstory.htm

http://www.teambabycorbin.com/

https://www.facebook.com/prayersforcorbinmchenry

Sleep(less)

For the last few months Lawrence has been working graveyards.  the shift offered a little extra income and was also less busy, so he had time to do his homework and studying while at work.  But it had its disadvantages too.  Like Lawrence slept during the day and he wasn't home at night.  The LM just wanted to play with his daddy when he was home so LM would "sneak" into our bedroom and wake Lawrence up.  And I don't sleep well without Lawrence (not that I'm really sleeping well at this point anyways...) so I would stay up late and then toss and turn most the night.

But happier days are on the horizon!  Lawrence got a new job!  He will be working more "normal" hours and be able to play with LM when he's home and sleep at night.  We are so excited for this new job and the experience it will bring and the opportunities that come with it.  And to have Lawrence around more during the day and night.

I remember after the accident trying to sleep in the hospital.  Those bed just aren't made with comfort in mind.  Yeah, they can sit up and put your feet up and do some cool stuff, but the mattresses really suck, the pillows tend to be flat, and it just isn't the same as being in your own bed.  Not to mention the tubes and wires and the beeping monitors, and the nosy nurses (who I know are just doing their jobs) who wake you up every few hours, sleep just isn't something you come by easily.  Plus, when you are sore and hurting all over and you can't turn your head because of a neck brace getting comfy just ain't happening.

It was such a relief to go "home" and be in a real bed where I wasn't being poked and prodded and checked at all hours of the night.  I still didn't sleep the best, what with the neck brace and soreness and all, but it was better.  And over time it got even more better (if that makes any sense at all) and eventually I was sleeping without any issues.


But now I am back to having a difficult time getting comfy.  Can't sleep on my tummy, can't sleep on my back; sleep on one side and my arm goes numb, sleep on the other and my hip hurts, use a pillow
between my knees and to cradle my belly and I can't snuggle with Lawrence... Grr...  And then once I do finally get comfortable and find sleep my body wakes my up because I need to use the bathroom, or because I itch, or because i'm too warm, or baby is wriggling and throwing a dance party...  I can honestly say I don't remember having so many problems sleeping so early with my other two pregnancies.  I'm only at 20 weeks, or crying out loud!  Most days I can't make it through without a nap in the afternoon, so when LM is down and out for his nap (which, thank goodness, is usually at least 2 hours, sometimes more) I lay down too.  Not for very long, usually, but long enough that I can make it through the rest of the day without pulling my hair out.

So I am pleading with you, my loverly readers, do you have any tricks to sleeping while pregnant?  Any magic potions, that are safe for baby?  Or really just about anything that you've done that helps, because I am one tired momma and I would like to not rely on an afternoon nap if possible (it's a lot easier to get cleaning and work done when he's asleep, but I don't accomplish as much when I have to take a nap too!).  Thanks in advance for your tips!

My Confession

The first thing I remember after the accident is waking up with a tube down my throat and looking for Lawrence.  I hurt everywhere, but I distinctly remember feeling the pull of the staples and bandages running vertically from my sternum to my pubic bone.  Fear flashed through me as I thought of a friend who went in for a surgery and came out unable to have children.  I asked, with some signs, if I could still have babies, which Lawrence misunderstood.  I soon was back asleep.  Some time later my mom was there and Lawrence told her about my question, she understood and told me that, provided everything healed properly, I should be able to have more children.  I was relieved, a tiny ray of sunshine on my otherwise darkest day.

Seemingly endless doctor appointments followed, at which I inquired about pregnancy and childbirth in my future.  Doctors all gave me thumbs up, in time.

But I wasn't so sure I could do it emotionally.  This is my confession.  Shortly after the accident Lawrence and I attended a grief group for parents who had lost children.  Some of the parents were older and their children were also older, but there were a few others who had lost younger children.  I have also made some connections with other angel mommies, and learned about their reactions regarding more children, following their loss.  I was surprised to hear that many wanted to have more children right away, even some that had previously thought they were done.  I just couldn't wrap my head (and my heart) around it.  I was so afraid of losing another child.  I knew that I would not be able to cope with the emotions of such a great loss again.  I felt that even a miscarriage would push me over the edge.  And I didn't want to do that to Lawrence or to Edward, it wasn't fair.

I kept this my little secret for a time.  But I knew I would have to discuss it with Lawrence at some point.  So I eventually did.  I cried as I poured my heart out to him about this and about other things.  And he held me and listened, and maybe cried a little too.  We talked about how guilty this made me feel, about what it would do to me if we lost another child, and about other concerns, and we kind of left it at that.

Not too long later I spotted a note in Lawrence's iPod noting that this issue wasn't really over, I knew it wasn't.  So we talked again.  And slowly, I started to come around.  I began to realize that the Lord knows what I can handle, and that another loss would put me over the edge.  I started to realize that I was being selfish, only thinking of myself and not about Lawrence, Edward, or any other children that might be waiting to join our family.  I changed my mind.

Now you may wonder why I'm baring my deep, dark secret to the world.  Why I am confessing.  In part, I am sharing this so others who may face this same struggle know that they are not alone.  When I met all these other angel mommies that just wanted another child as soon as possible I felt so alone in my fears, like maybe there was something wrong with me.  I don't want someone else to feel that way.  Also, I am sharing because...

Edward is going to be a big brother!  Dec. 31, 2013.  See, I did come around.