My Experience with Loss

This past week has been "Baby Loss Awareness Week".  It seems like there's an "awareness" day/week/month for just about everything.  Just go here and you'll see what I mean!  So I've been thinking... what's the point?!  Bringing awareness to everything is basically the same thing as bringing awareness to nothing.  But I'll tell you... I think I was wrong (this was the first time).  One thing about life is that we all have such different paths.  Different backgrounds, different strengths, different weaknesses, different successes, different challenges.  And all these different "awareness" days are a chance for us to not only celebrate those differences but to find common ground out there and to remember that we are not alone.

Maybe Baby Loss Awareness Week doesn't resonate with everyone.  Maybe you connect more with National Left-handers Day or Be Nice to Nettles Week.  But my heart skips a beat when it's Baby Loss Awareness Week.  Because my heart and soul has been forever changed by baby loss.  And it does my heart good to take a little time to ache for others who have also experienced the devastating loss of a child.

It's important to remember that though our Savior's atonement, we can be healed from all pain.  You can read about my experience of healing after my loss here.  The sting lessens, smiles return, and peace will come.  But it still hurts.  And I'm still sad.  And I still cry.  And today, I want to share my story....

From the time I was a teenager, I used to worry that I would have a hard time getting pregnant.  There were many careers that sounded fun to me but all I really wanted to be was a wife and mom.  Other than that, I knew I could be content with pretty much anything!  I was fortunate to marry my sweetheart when we were 21.  We had known each other for 6.5 years and didn't really have any sort of difficulty adjusting to married life.  We LOVED it (still do)!  A month before our first anniversary, we found out I was pregnant!  We worked for the same company, along with some of our closest friends so when I got the call from the lab with my bloodwork I hurried to call Tristan over to my building and we asked our friends to come outside in the parking lot where we told them.  We were just a little excited - announcing after minutes of finding out!  I kept having these thoughts that we were having twins so I would joke with Tristan about it.  I had some nausea but as long as I ate pretty much constantly I was able to keep it under control.  (I must have looked like such a pig to all my co-workers!)

Then, on June 30th, I had my initial OB appointment.  As soon as the doctor put the ultrasound thing on my belly I knew what I was seeing!  TWO BABIES!!!  It was clear as day.  Both had very strong heartbeats and my growth was perfect!  I measured about four weeks big... no wonder I was having a hard time buttoning my pants already!  This was literally my dream coming true.  All our family and friends were so supportive and excited for us.  So things moved along nicely for the next few months.  I loved being pregnant.  And I learned to recognize which baby was dancing inside me each time I felt movement.  It was amazing to me how natural it was to love them so fully and individually.  At 16 weeks we found out that they were both little boys.  We went to Babies R Us right after the appointment and picked out a few outfits each.  It was becoming real!  As my little guys grew, I could feel the strain it was putting on my body and I knew it was a good possibility that I would be on bedrest as I became further along.  So, we did what we could to prepare.  I talked to my boss and came up with a last day of work the following month.  We posted my position and started taking applications.  We bought two cribs and two bouncers.  We were slowly but surely getting ready!

Then one day I woke up and started getting ready for work just like any other day.  But this day I was hurting.  I was so cautious of complaining because I knew what an amazing blessing it was to be pregnant in the first place and I didn't want to take that for granted.  SO... I didn't say anything.  We drove to work and the pain didn't go away.  It got stronger at times but it never really went away.  It felt like bad menstrual cramps and a pretty intense lower backache.  A couple people throughout the day had noticed that I was struggling but I insisted I was fine.  I basically just sat at my desk and did my thing.  I had heard that pregnancy was uncomfortable and was sure that was normal.  It hadn't been too bad up until this point so this must just be my turn for the hard part of pregnancy!  Plus, I was carrying twins so it only made sense that it would be a little more uncomfortable.  By about noon it just wasn't letting up and I was struggling to walk and talk.  So, I called my mom.  She asked if I felt like my stomach was hardening like a contraction.  I didn't know what to say!  I felt constant pain more than hardening.  I just felt clueless!  So, I kept working.  I would say, I don't know what I was thinking!, but I do know... I didn't know what to do and I didn't feel like what I was feeling matched the definition of what I'd heard contractions felt like.  And actually, no one had really explained to me what signs of preterm labor I should watch out for.  AND I was trying so hard not to complain.  But, by 4:00 I couldn't take it much more so I called Tristan and we went straight home.  I called the doctor and they told me to lay down, drink lots of water and to go to the hospital if I felt more than 4 pains in the next hour.  Well, I had 4 within the next 15 minutes..... so off to the hospital we went.

We arrived at Labor and Delivery and they hooked me up to all the machines.  The babies were doing great but my contractions were coming every minute - and I wasn't even feeling many of them.  The sweet nurse checked my cervix and I could tell from the look on her face that it wasn't good news.  I was dilated to a fingertip.  I would be 20 weeks along the next day so this was way to early to be dilating.  They don't really consider a baby viable until 24 weeks and even then there are so many potential challenges.  So, they gave me terbutaline shots.  I was shaking and my heart was racing, but the contractions seemed to calm.

Around midnight, they got ready to send me home on strict bed rest and told me to come back if I felt anything like what I'd felt earlier that day.  As I stood up out of the bed I had massive contraction.  When the nurse saw that she told me to lay back down, she checked me again and I had progressed to a full centimeter.  They started me on magnesium sulfate and morphine, tipped my bed so my head was down and feet were up in hopes that gravity would work in our favor.  My temperature shot through the roof because of the Mag.  My mom and sister had rushed up to the hospital and they, along with Tristan rotated rags from a bucket filled with ice water to my forehead, arms and chest.  The medicine also made me extremely nauseous so they took turns holding a bucket for me to throw up in as I was laying upside down.  A couple hours later they checked me with high hopes but told me I had progressed to 3 centimeters.  The nurse told us that as long as we could keep me less than 4, we had hopes of keeping me pregnant for 4 more weeks.  That felt like an eternity at that point.  I was thinking, I'm just trying to stay pregnant for another hour, let alone another month!  They brought in an ultrasound technician to measure my babies, just in case my dates were off.  I knew they weren't.  My boys measured with a couple days of where they should be.  An hour later, the nurse checked me again and after she told us I was to 4 centimeters, she looked to Tristan and my mom and said, she's going to need some tissues and now would be a good time for a Priesthood Blessing.  I had had one earlier in the night and even though things were going bad so fast, I knew that Heavenly Father was mindful of us.  My heart broke a little more as I listened to my sweet husband tell his mom over the phone through his tears that "the babies are coming."  His parents drove straight over to the hospital.  My mom called my dad, who was out of town, and he made arrangements to fly home as soon as he could.

Soon my doctor showed up and the nurse began to explain what we could expect our babies to look like and to talk with Tristan and I about our "options".  We knew without even thinking about it... we would hold them for every minute we had with them.  About 6:30 am it was time.  They were coming.  I had tried my best to hold it together but as the doctor sympathetically said, "Michelle, I need you to push", I lost it.  This was it.  They were going to die.  I was losing them.  I gave a small push and he had both boys out within two minutes of each other.  They were absolutely beautiful.  They were 10" long and weighed 10.9 and 12.4 ounces.  They had eyelashes, fingernails and gripped our fingers with their tiny little hands.  It was one of Heavenly Father's tender mercies that we had already decided on their names.  Jackson Lee and Kyler John.  Our angels.  They lived for about 15 minutes.

The days, weeks and months that followed were filled with hard moments.  I had a paper hanging on my hospital door that reminded guests to "be quiet, we're mourning".  We stopped at a mortuary on our way home from the hospital and picked out a casket.  I went home and wrote a short obituary and made calls to our family members about the graveside service.  Thank heavens for our parents!  Our moms planned that whole thing for us.  I don't know how we would have done it without them! The morning of the service I was so stressed about what shirt to wear.  Like it mattered!  I just wanted something blue.  I know it's weird.  For whatever reason it felt to me like my way of honoring my boys.  I woke up each morning and sobbed for the first few hours of the day.  The doctors and nurses at the hospital assured me that my future appointments would be canceled but still I got a call 2 weeks later from the perinatologist's office to confirm my ultrasound appointment.  Then I got to explain to the lady on the other end of the phone what happened after she acted like I was the world's most neglectful mom for telling her I needed to cancel and not reschedule that appointment.  I continued to get flyers in the mail with coupons for formula, diapers and other baby goods.  Simply put, it sucked.  My arms were so empty.  My house was so quiet.  Way too quiet.

But after the first few weeks I learned that it was okay to smile without feeling guilty.  So I found lots of reasons to be with family and as many reasons as I could to smile.  I took my new little puppy to all of my sister's tennis matches.  I remember about a week after I delivered, my mom was hanging out with me at my house and she said, "I don't know what to do but I just want to be with you."  That's what I needed.  To know I wasn't alone.  Tristan was my absolute rock.  And I'm not talking like a strong person to lean on - I'm talking like the giant mountain range that held my world together.  Because somehow, my world didn't completely fall to the ground.  It came close, but it didn't.  It didn't because I had family and friends and strangers sending thoughts and prayers and support and love every second of every day.  A few co-workers came over and planted two beautiful trees in our backyard.  Another group made us a quilt.  Family and friends traveled far to attend the graveside service.  Our parents' employers sent gifts and cards and plants.  Our hospital bills and costs associated with the mortuary, casket, obituary, burial plot and headstone were all covered with donations.  One cousin arranged a trip for Tristan and I to get away together.  The hospital gave us molds of our their hands and feet.  Friends and neighbors brought cards, poems, tissues, dinners, treats and everything else you can imagine to remind us that they were thinking of us.  My boys would be 8 years old and the love and support has continued.  People seem to remember and understand that although life has gone on and we've moved forward, I'll never "get over it".

My world didn't crumble because I knew my Heavenly Father loved me and I knew my babies were okay.  They were with their Savior.  At first I worried about them because I worried what they'd do without a mom.  Everyone needs a mom!  But then I knew my Grandma Kathleen was loving on them for me.  I still long to know what their favorites are.  I feel like I know them some... but not enough.  I think I know who would have been jumping off the swingset and who would have been climbing on my lap asking for a story.  I think.

Like I said, we all have our different trials - and I don't think it does any good to compare who has it better or worse.  I think the best thing we can possibly do is set all judgement aside and reach out and love and support each other a little more.

To everyone out there that can relate... I'm thinking of you.  Fight the urge to call the formula company and rip their heads off for sending you coupons congratulating you on your child's first birthday.  They mean well, kind of.