I have been meaning to post, but obviously haven't. Around Thanksgiving, I wanted to write my feelings in regards to how grateful I am to be blessed with Angelina and to have gone through what we did. Like I have said many times before, I am grateful for going through our experience, but I never want to go through it again. Angelina is our baby girl in heaven, and I think about her daily.
In reference to the title of this post, I feel sandwiched between two holidays. Thanksgiving was one where I was extremely grateful for Angelina, and for the knowledge we have of the gospel, and for the love and support and comfort we felt and continue to feel from many different sources. And soon Christmas will be upon us. Last year, we found out on Christmas day that I was pregnant with Angelina. It was a definite shock and surprise but an extremely joyous one, nonetheless. However, this year, it is the official "one year mark" of everything we went through. And surprisingly, a very hard reality to think about and face. Perhaps it is hard because I am still not pregnant. Or perhaps it is hard because the time of year reminds me of the previous year. Or... perhaps it is just hard.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Where to turn...
The other night while we were sitting down for dinner, I had the thought, "we should have a baby about two and a half months old right now with us at this table." Obviously this thought could lead to two different paths... the first being "but we don't" which would inevitably lead to negative, self-pity thoughts. And the second path being a more positive, constructive, confidence in the knowledge we have been given because of our beliefs path.
Ultimately, I believe we need to grieve our loss. But I believe we can allow that grievance to make us stronger or pull us down. And I choose to let our loss be a spot of happiness, peace, and comfort because we know we will be with our baby girl again. It doesn't make the loss less or easier, but it makes it bearable. And I know as I focus on what we know and how we felt when she was born, I won't allow myself to spiral downwards in a self-pity cycle.
My dear friend, Emily, whom I admire and love very much, posted this on her blog and I am passing it along....I think it sums up this post perfectly.
"... Your joy is your sorrow unmasked. And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears. And how else can it be? The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain. Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven? And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives? When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy." -Kahlil Gibran
Ultimately, I believe we need to grieve our loss. But I believe we can allow that grievance to make us stronger or pull us down. And I choose to let our loss be a spot of happiness, peace, and comfort because we know we will be with our baby girl again. It doesn't make the loss less or easier, but it makes it bearable. And I know as I focus on what we know and how we felt when she was born, I won't allow myself to spiral downwards in a self-pity cycle.
My dear friend, Emily, whom I admire and love very much, posted this on her blog and I am passing it along....I think it sums up this post perfectly.
"... Your joy is your sorrow unmasked. And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears. And how else can it be? The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain. Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven? And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives? When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy." -Kahlil Gibran
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
July 22, 2009--The Funeral
July 22, 2009 was the day that the hospital held a funeral for all babies who had passed away earlier in the year...and that day included our sweet Angelina.
I don't know how the hospital organizes it exactly, but we elected to go this route. The hospital holds a memorial service for babies who have died between certain periods of time and then holds a memorial and burial service three times a year. So perhaps they do this once in the spring, once in summer and once in the fall/winter time.
A lot of time had obviously passed between when Angelina was born (April 1) and when the burial was (July 22). Immediately following our loss, I truly was upheld in the Lord's hands. I truly, truly was. I was at peace, I knew where our baby girl was and I knew what it meant for our family. I knew she was ours and that she was in the Lord's hands now and that we will see her after this life. Looking back, I feel as if I was "the strong one" throughout the entire process for those around us. Not in the sense that Taylor was a mess and needed me--in the sense that so many people wanted to see us and talk to us and know what happened and we would tell our story over and over. Well when the initial news seemed to calm down, and once all the healing had taken place physically, we began to wonder when the funeral was.
I called and asked, no one knew for another week. Well when I finally found out when the funeral would take place, a new wave of emotions came upon me. It felt as if I had blocked some emotions from coming through because I was "being the strong one"...and then all of a sudden, I was experiencing a whole new set of emotions I had never dealt with...I guess it was as if to say reality set in. The funeral was very hard on me, more importantly, leading up to the funeral was hard on me. It was hard to know what to expect and how being at the grave site would actually affect me.
I don't remember how many babies were in the casket. There were several families there, I wondered what they were thinking and how they handled what they were going through.
I have learned that I am not a public crier. When in public, I really try to choke back tears. I don't really like that because I think it is very therapeutic to cry and allow emotions to surface. At the start of the service I couldn't hold it in though--the hospital said some words and then we broke off to the side and did our own thing. My dad spoke and then Taylor spoke and dedicated the grave site. It was beautiful and I am very grateful for their willingness and worthiness to do what they did.
We met a couple at the service who experienced a similar thing and were also of our beliefs. Taylor's Aunt and Uncle knew and recognized them...turns out they actually knew us and babysat us many years prior. I just thought it was neat to meet and we have kept in touch since.
July 22 was a sacred day in our family. While we physically laid our baby girl to rest, I am grateful to know she is watching over us and waiting for us. It is comforting and peaceful to know we have a guardian angel watching over us. It is comforting to know that the Lord trusted us to provide a way for our baby girl to enter the world but that she was too precious to live on earth. We love our Heavenly Father and our baby girl and everything that comes with it.
I don't know how the hospital organizes it exactly, but we elected to go this route. The hospital holds a memorial service for babies who have died between certain periods of time and then holds a memorial and burial service three times a year. So perhaps they do this once in the spring, once in summer and once in the fall/winter time.
A lot of time had obviously passed between when Angelina was born (April 1) and when the burial was (July 22). Immediately following our loss, I truly was upheld in the Lord's hands. I truly, truly was. I was at peace, I knew where our baby girl was and I knew what it meant for our family. I knew she was ours and that she was in the Lord's hands now and that we will see her after this life. Looking back, I feel as if I was "the strong one" throughout the entire process for those around us. Not in the sense that Taylor was a mess and needed me--in the sense that so many people wanted to see us and talk to us and know what happened and we would tell our story over and over. Well when the initial news seemed to calm down, and once all the healing had taken place physically, we began to wonder when the funeral was.
I called and asked, no one knew for another week. Well when I finally found out when the funeral would take place, a new wave of emotions came upon me. It felt as if I had blocked some emotions from coming through because I was "being the strong one"...and then all of a sudden, I was experiencing a whole new set of emotions I had never dealt with...I guess it was as if to say reality set in. The funeral was very hard on me, more importantly, leading up to the funeral was hard on me. It was hard to know what to expect and how being at the grave site would actually affect me.
I don't remember how many babies were in the casket. There were several families there, I wondered what they were thinking and how they handled what they were going through. I have learned that I am not a public crier. When in public, I really try to choke back tears. I don't really like that because I think it is very therapeutic to cry and allow emotions to surface. At the start of the service I couldn't hold it in though--the hospital said some words and then we broke off to the side and did our own thing. My dad spoke and then Taylor spoke and dedicated the grave site. It was beautiful and I am very grateful for their willingness and worthiness to do what they did.
We met a couple at the service who experienced a similar thing and were also of our beliefs. Taylor's Aunt and Uncle knew and recognized them...turns out they actually knew us and babysat us many years prior. I just thought it was neat to meet and we have kept in touch since.
July 22 was a sacred day in our family. While we physically laid our baby girl to rest, I am grateful to know she is watching over us and waiting for us. It is comforting and peaceful to know we have a guardian angel watching over us. It is comforting to know that the Lord trusted us to provide a way for our baby girl to enter the world but that she was too precious to live on earth. We love our Heavenly Father and our baby girl and everything that comes with it. Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Brave, really?
I've been having a few of the same thoughts lately, forgive me if they don't all come out making sense.
In starting this blog, I have received many comments via blog, facebook and email about how brave I am to share our story. I've sincerely appreciated all those comments, but have never felt "brave." To me, sharing the story is essentially what you would find on our medical records. Sharing my testimony with our story simply goes hand in hand. Literally--I do not know how I would have gotten through our experience without our beliefs.
But brave?
I don't feel brave. I don't feel so brave when a dear friend of mine recently had a baby and I can't bring myself to go see her or her baby because I am not sure how it will affect me. I don't feel brave when I was recently at a baby shower and wanted to break down in tears when I saw the tiny newborn clothes because all I could think about was that I should be holding a newborn. Or when I am at a store and see people with two, three, four, etc kids and think that I have two but physically can see only one. Or even seeing car seats because I wish I was carrying one. Or when Isaac pretends to take care of his "Elmo" doll I can't help but think what a great big brother he would be (will be). Or at church when it's testimony meeting and all I want to bear my testimony about is how this experience has drawn me closer to my Savior but since I said that the month before and everyone already knows our story, I probably shouldn't get up. Or in Relief Society when our lesson is about families and the question is asked, "how has it changed your perspective knowing that your family is eternal?" -- because really, I could get up and talk the whole time on that subject but instead I am sitting on the back row fighting back tears because again--the whole Relief Society already knows my story and I fear I sound like a broken record.
I guess my point is--I am always thinking about Angelina and some days I struggle more than others. Someone once asked me how I was doing but feared that I was 'in a good place' (i.e. not thinking about Angelina) so they were scared by bringing it up it might "set me off" (i.e. the tear-works). But truth be told, I am always thinking about Angelina. Angelina has changed my life for the better. I remember one night, Taylor and I were watching TV and I don't remember if it was a commercial or a show but this little girl--who knows, maybe 4 or 5 years old--comes on the screen and it was almost breath taking because there was silence for a second and I said, "she looks like she could be our daughter." Instantly, Taylor said he was thinking the same thing.
I know the Lord blesses us and strengthens us in many ways and for that I am grateful. I don't write these things for way of looking for sympathy, it is just my candid, what I go through, what I think type of things that occur to me while experiencing this loss. These thoughts are just real. Am I upset, angry? Not at all. Just miss my baby girl.
In starting this blog, I have received many comments via blog, facebook and email about how brave I am to share our story. I've sincerely appreciated all those comments, but have never felt "brave." To me, sharing the story is essentially what you would find on our medical records. Sharing my testimony with our story simply goes hand in hand. Literally--I do not know how I would have gotten through our experience without our beliefs.
But brave?
I don't feel brave. I don't feel so brave when a dear friend of mine recently had a baby and I can't bring myself to go see her or her baby because I am not sure how it will affect me. I don't feel brave when I was recently at a baby shower and wanted to break down in tears when I saw the tiny newborn clothes because all I could think about was that I should be holding a newborn. Or when I am at a store and see people with two, three, four, etc kids and think that I have two but physically can see only one. Or even seeing car seats because I wish I was carrying one. Or when Isaac pretends to take care of his "Elmo" doll I can't help but think what a great big brother he would be (will be). Or at church when it's testimony meeting and all I want to bear my testimony about is how this experience has drawn me closer to my Savior but since I said that the month before and everyone already knows our story, I probably shouldn't get up. Or in Relief Society when our lesson is about families and the question is asked, "how has it changed your perspective knowing that your family is eternal?" -- because really, I could get up and talk the whole time on that subject but instead I am sitting on the back row fighting back tears because again--the whole Relief Society already knows my story and I fear I sound like a broken record.
I guess my point is--I am always thinking about Angelina and some days I struggle more than others. Someone once asked me how I was doing but feared that I was 'in a good place' (i.e. not thinking about Angelina) so they were scared by bringing it up it might "set me off" (i.e. the tear-works). But truth be told, I am always thinking about Angelina. Angelina has changed my life for the better. I remember one night, Taylor and I were watching TV and I don't remember if it was a commercial or a show but this little girl--who knows, maybe 4 or 5 years old--comes on the screen and it was almost breath taking because there was silence for a second and I said, "she looks like she could be our daughter." Instantly, Taylor said he was thinking the same thing.
I know the Lord blesses us and strengthens us in many ways and for that I am grateful. I don't write these things for way of looking for sympathy, it is just my candid, what I go through, what I think type of things that occur to me while experiencing this loss. These thoughts are just real. Am I upset, angry? Not at all. Just miss my baby girl.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Recent Thoughts
So much has happened in the last ten months or so, and this blog has only been in existence for a week or less, so allow me to intermix the past with the present until I can get everything I want in writing.
Today I want to record a few recent thoughts. First, a few days ago, I was around a number of people--some I hadn't seen in a long time. One gal asked if I had two kids and then said, "Or is it one?" I said I have Isaac and was actually pregnant earlier this year and lost the pregnancy which was followed by, "So I have two kids, but one living." Of course this ensued the "ohh's" which made me go into more detail. However, it was just weird--"it" being the conversation. And all I can say to explain this is that I felt like it had been so long since I talked about Angelina to those who had no idea that I didn't know how to talk about what we went through. "Weird" right? I concluded that it just wasn't the right setting to go into great detail or length.
Secondly, we were challenged as women in our church to complete the new Young Women value experiences and project for "virtue." I was really excited about this and gladly took on the challenge. At the start of this challenge I was really struggling over the fact of how much I missed Angelina. There are times that I think, "I should be holding a newborn baby right now," or when I see baby clothes and think of my baby girl in them or even when I see others having to take care of crying babies and wishing that was me. You have no idea how much I yearn to have another child right now, and again, perhaps that is part of my trial. So I continue to exercise faith in the Lord's will and timing of all things. An aspect of having a child on the other side of the veil is that I pray daily to feel her influence in my and our family's life. At this particular time, Angelina was constantly in my thoughts...I really needed a "lift me up." So this challenge from our church couldn't have come at a better time.
One of the value experiences had us read in 2 Nephi 32:1-5. In verses 2 & 3 it reads:
"Do ye not remember that I said unto you that after ye had received the Holy Ghost ye could speak with the tongue of angels? ... Angels speak by the power of the Holy Ghost; wherefore, they speak the words of Christ. Wherefore, I said unto you, feast upon the words of Christ; for behold, the words of Christ will tell you all things what ye should do."
I cannot even tell you how welcoming and inspiring these verses were to me on that particular day--and still are today. I know that I can speak to Angelina and feel her spirit and influence on this side of the veil through the gift of the Holy Ghost. What a reminder these verses were to me to live in a way that keep me worthy and righteous to keep that line of communication open with my baby girl.
A few days after that experience, I finished the "value experiences" and began the "value project" which is to read the entire Book of Mormon. Again, I saw the Lord's hand work miracles in my life.
I started in the very first chapter and in the very first verse. In that verse it reads, "...and having seen many afflictions in the course of my days, nevertheless, having been highly favored of the Lord in all my days..." I have read this verse many times and never has this line stuck out to me before. In reading a book titled "Doctrinal commentary on the Book of Mormon," I came across this reference to the aforementioned verse:
"Life was not intended to be easy. The path of righteousness, that course leading to eternal life, is ever an upward climb and hence uninviting to many. Nephi saw afflictions and blessings as compatible companions. Surely anything that brings us nearer to God is a blessing."
This commentary coupled with the verse in the scriptures also hit me like a ton of brick, because I 100 percent agree with it. We knew when we went through everything that we would accept the Lord's will. We knew that. And I believe that because we allowed the Lord in our lives at a very hard and difficult time, we saw many blessings along the way. This commentary has become a new "motto" for me, if you will..."Surely anything that brings us nearer to God is a blessing." ...perhaps that is something I can always say now when I talk about Angelina.
Today I want to record a few recent thoughts. First, a few days ago, I was around a number of people--some I hadn't seen in a long time. One gal asked if I had two kids and then said, "Or is it one?" I said I have Isaac and was actually pregnant earlier this year and lost the pregnancy which was followed by, "So I have two kids, but one living." Of course this ensued the "ohh's" which made me go into more detail. However, it was just weird--"it" being the conversation. And all I can say to explain this is that I felt like it had been so long since I talked about Angelina to those who had no idea that I didn't know how to talk about what we went through. "Weird" right? I concluded that it just wasn't the right setting to go into great detail or length.
Secondly, we were challenged as women in our church to complete the new Young Women value experiences and project for "virtue." I was really excited about this and gladly took on the challenge. At the start of this challenge I was really struggling over the fact of how much I missed Angelina. There are times that I think, "I should be holding a newborn baby right now," or when I see baby clothes and think of my baby girl in them or even when I see others having to take care of crying babies and wishing that was me. You have no idea how much I yearn to have another child right now, and again, perhaps that is part of my trial. So I continue to exercise faith in the Lord's will and timing of all things. An aspect of having a child on the other side of the veil is that I pray daily to feel her influence in my and our family's life. At this particular time, Angelina was constantly in my thoughts...I really needed a "lift me up." So this challenge from our church couldn't have come at a better time.
One of the value experiences had us read in 2 Nephi 32:1-5. In verses 2 & 3 it reads:
"Do ye not remember that I said unto you that after ye had received the Holy Ghost ye could speak with the tongue of angels? ... Angels speak by the power of the Holy Ghost; wherefore, they speak the words of Christ. Wherefore, I said unto you, feast upon the words of Christ; for behold, the words of Christ will tell you all things what ye should do."
I cannot even tell you how welcoming and inspiring these verses were to me on that particular day--and still are today. I know that I can speak to Angelina and feel her spirit and influence on this side of the veil through the gift of the Holy Ghost. What a reminder these verses were to me to live in a way that keep me worthy and righteous to keep that line of communication open with my baby girl.
A few days after that experience, I finished the "value experiences" and began the "value project" which is to read the entire Book of Mormon. Again, I saw the Lord's hand work miracles in my life.
I started in the very first chapter and in the very first verse. In that verse it reads, "...and having seen many afflictions in the course of my days, nevertheless, having been highly favored of the Lord in all my days..." I have read this verse many times and never has this line stuck out to me before. In reading a book titled "Doctrinal commentary on the Book of Mormon," I came across this reference to the aforementioned verse:
"Life was not intended to be easy. The path of righteousness, that course leading to eternal life, is ever an upward climb and hence uninviting to many. Nephi saw afflictions and blessings as compatible companions. Surely anything that brings us nearer to God is a blessing."
This commentary coupled with the verse in the scriptures also hit me like a ton of brick, because I 100 percent agree with it. We knew when we went through everything that we would accept the Lord's will. We knew that. And I believe that because we allowed the Lord in our lives at a very hard and difficult time, we saw many blessings along the way. This commentary has become a new "motto" for me, if you will..."Surely anything that brings us nearer to God is a blessing." ...perhaps that is something I can always say now when I talk about Angelina.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
What do you say?
What do you say when someone asks how many kids you have? I say 'one' and I feel neglectful of the gift we call our guardian angel. I say 'two' and know I have to say, "two, but one living" and that always stops people in their tracks and either creates awkward silence which leads to having to tell the whole story or it does the complete opposite and is a conversation killer. The other question is when I am out and about and people look at Isaac and ask, "Is he your only child?"
I realize this may not seem like a big deal to many, but you have no idea how much I wrestle with this issue. I WANT to tell people I have two kids. I want to meet others who have been through the same or similar circumstances. But do you have any idea how awkward or hard it is to explain it? Shortly after we lost Angelina, I would tell people that I have two kids but follow it with "two but one living" because the questions that typically followed were, "Oh, how old is your second?" or "Where is your second child?" (because obviously they saw Isaac) etc...so to avoid the person from feeling weird or bad for asking, I would have to follow up with what happened and then it was a conversation killer. I know some may think, "just say two" but it is so much deeper than that, it's hard to explain. Angelina has forever changed our lives, I don't want others to think our life is back to "normal" now because it has been a few months, because let me tell you, there is not a day that goes by that I don't think about her.
I realize this may not seem like a big deal to many, but you have no idea how much I wrestle with this issue. I WANT to tell people I have two kids. I want to meet others who have been through the same or similar circumstances. But do you have any idea how awkward or hard it is to explain it? Shortly after we lost Angelina, I would tell people that I have two kids but follow it with "two but one living" because the questions that typically followed were, "Oh, how old is your second?" or "Where is your second child?" (because obviously they saw Isaac) etc...so to avoid the person from feeling weird or bad for asking, I would have to follow up with what happened and then it was a conversation killer. I know some may think, "just say two" but it is so much deeper than that, it's hard to explain. Angelina has forever changed our lives, I don't want others to think our life is back to "normal" now because it has been a few months, because let me tell you, there is not a day that goes by that I don't think about her.
The Recovery
The recovery seemed to last forever--at least longer than it did with my first child. But perhaps that was because I was too focused on taking care of a newborn, this time I could find myself often feeling sorry for myself and for having to go through all the post-labor things such as my milk coming in, UTI, bleeding, etc. It was hard. But I knew I had to go through it--physically and emotionally. I knew that because we turned our will over to Heavenly Father, that He would give me more strength than I knew I had....more courage than I knew I had...and more reasons to be grateful than I knew I had.
I was blessed to have remarkable people around me. People who sent emails, people who prayed, people who fasted in our behalf, people who stopped by to visit or to see how I was doing or to bring me flowers, letters in the mail, meals for our family to eat, gifts...the outpouring of love was tremendous and I KNOW it helped me get through the worst. I know the Lord surrounded us with love and peace. I am grateful for those friends and family and strangers.
I was blessed to have remarkable people around me. People who sent emails, people who prayed, people who fasted in our behalf, people who stopped by to visit or to see how I was doing or to bring me flowers, letters in the mail, meals for our family to eat, gifts...the outpouring of love was tremendous and I KNOW it helped me get through the worst. I know the Lord surrounded us with love and peace. I am grateful for those friends and family and strangers.
Angelina's Story
I found out on Christmas day, Dec. 25, 2008, that I was pregnant. We had recently been in the process of moving, finishing our jobs, my husband finishing school, building a home and much more that I couldn't believe I was pregnant. I remember that before I looked at the pregnancy test I thought, "I believe in miracles!" Sure enough, I was pregnant! I was overjoyed! (Is that a word?!)
Seeing how it was Christmas, I thought it would be fun to wrap up the pregnancy test and surprise my husband. One of my most prized possessions to this day is the fact that I videotaped him when he opened it. He was overcome with joy as well and even tearful...we were so excited to be pregnant again.
At the end of January, I had my first doctor's appointment. Everything seemed fine. I was about nine weeks along and when they went to listen for the heartbeat, they couldn't find it. This did not alarm me because the same thing happened with my first pregnancy. The combination of my cervix position and a small baby made it hard to hear. Seeing how I was on COBRA Insurance at the time, I asked my doctor if we could postpone the ultrasound. She told me to come back in a week because by then we should for sure hear it.
The following week, the nurse took me back to a room. She couldn't find the heartbeat. She asked another nurse to come in and listen for it since the doctor was occupied. That nurse couldn't hear it. So they waited for the doctor. The doctor came in and she couldn't hear it. I was at the point that COBRA or not, we needed to do the ultrasound. This is when our story changed. As soon as she did the ultrasound, either she had "the look" that something was wrong, or I just knew. However, I was thinking about the heartbeat. There definitely was a heartbeat, but she also saw a large cyst on the back of our baby's head.
She immediately scheduled an appointment with the perinatologist at the Maternal Fetal Medicine office at a different hospital. I asked what this cyst meant which I later learned was called a cystic hygroma. In my non-doctor-like mind thought it would just go away or that we could pop it or something. She said it was a very big deal and was most likely a chromosome problem. Immediately I thought our baby had down syndrome since anytime someone says "chromosome" to me I think they are coating it for what it really means. With this she left the room to schedule me an appointment. I texted my husband and just said, "We have a problem with this pregnancy...a cyst on the baby's head/neck..."
I started to get emotional, not because I wouldn't welcome a child with down syndrome, but because I knew we lost the "normalcy" of our pregnancy. I had so many questions. When the doctor came back in, I asked, "So this chromosome abnormality means down syndrome?" And she looked at me saying, "Oh no. This is much more than that. This can be fatal for the baby." And that's when I lost it and have no idea what else she said. I was planning to just meet my husband at the other hospital and take our son (who was with me) with us. But as I was standing up to leave the doctor's office, my mom called. I was obviously crying and said we had a problem and she came right over to take our son while we went to the other appointment.
The entire trip to the other hospital I was an emotional mess...I'd take anything over losing this baby. I'd do whatever the Lord would have us do, I just did not want to lose this baby.
As I pulled up to the hospital, I saw my husband standing there and I ran up to him and essentially collapsed in his arms.
Now realizing that we were termed a "high-risk pregnancy" at just 10 weeks, we did another ultrasound to learn about this cystic hygroma. We were given genetic counseling where the counselor told us our "options." We were told this cyst could be due to three different things, the first being down syndrome, the second being lethal chromosome abnormality which meant that if we ever got to delivery they would monitor just me and not the baby and if the baby did survive the baby had a 90% chance of dying before its first birthday and the third thing was called Turner Syndrome which meant we had a 99% chance of losing the baby and if we were in the 1% that made it past 26 weeks, the baby could potentially have some/many health problems.
Also in this genetic counseling session the counselor told us we had the option of abortion. I told her flat out that was not an option for us, we would accept the Lord's will for us and this child.
We decided to proceed with a test called CVS where we would learn if there was a chromosome abnormality or not. I really felt that I would not miscarry with this pregnancy. My thoughts about the results of this CVS procedure was that the baby had no chromosome abnormality or that the baby had down syndrome.
After about 10 days of anxious waiting, we got the phone call. We learned our baby had Turner Syndrome, it was a girl, and that there was a 99% of this pregnancy not lasting. We prayed many days and nights that I would be in the 1%.
Around 15 weeks I started feeling her move. Everyday was a new day, a new day to worry, a new day to make sure I felt her moving. The doctor said that miscarriages didn't always result in blood, so she said I could come in as much as I wanted to listen for a heartbeat. I decided to go in every two weeks. The first appointment her heartbeat sounded nice and strong. The second appointment we had the same result--nice strong heartbeat. If the heartbeat sounded rapid it was an indicator of fluid buildup around the heart and fetal loss. We felt we were in the running to be in the 1% but we knew we weren't out of harms way yet. My doctor felt so encouraged from these appointments that she didn't schedule me for four weeks from this appointment.
The following week, I had my 20 week ultrasound. This was another big milestone for us as we were going to learn if there were any physical problems with the internal organs and such. The night before the appointment I prayed for good news and as I climbed into bed I felt her moving so much. I felt a confidence and renewed sense of faith.
We started the ultrasound and the technician did her thing and after about 10 seconds she just looked at me and said she was so sorry but there was no heartbeat. As she left to get the doctor I seriously thought their machine was broken or she didn't know what she was doing. I felt her moving the night prior, she couldn't have died!
The doctor came in and confirmed that she had passed away. I tell you, the worst sight was when she opened the screen that shows the pattern of a beating heart, and on our screen--there was nothing. Then she opened the screen that shows the movement of blood, and again, our screen showed nothing.
I was in a state of shock and thought that they would come right back in and extract the baby right then and there. The doctor asked us to go to her office and it was there that we learned that because I was in my second trimester that I had to go to the hospital and deliver the baby.
This day and the following were the worst. The doctor told me it would be a surgical procedure but when we were admitted to the hospital we learned that I had to go through the steps of labor and actually push our baby girl out. This was the lowest of low moments. I was so upset to have to go through this. I was upset knowing I had to go through labor and go home empty handed. I was upset I wouldn't hear our baby girl cry when she was born. I was just upset. However, I must note that I was upset with the circumstance, never were we upset with the Lord. We knew from the moment we were told we were high-risk that we would be given the strength to get through this trial and we knew--we truly knew--that we would accept the Lord's will, however hard it would be.
Angelina Joyce was born on April 1, 2009 at 6:11 p.m. I didn't know how I would feel when she was born and I wouldn't hear her crying, but as soon as she was born there was an unbelievable sense of peace come over both my husband and myself. As I held her and looked at her I said, "Hi baby girl....we'll see you soon." We truly believe we will be with her again and that we will have the opportunity to raise her in the eternities. We are grateful that we have a loving Heavenly Father in heaven who has made it possible--through his son, Jesus Christ--for our family to be together forever. We love our baby girl and will miss her while on this earth, but we know that she is with us as our guardian angel and our constant reminder to be live righteously so we can be together again.
Seeing how it was Christmas, I thought it would be fun to wrap up the pregnancy test and surprise my husband. One of my most prized possessions to this day is the fact that I videotaped him when he opened it. He was overcome with joy as well and even tearful...we were so excited to be pregnant again.
At the end of January, I had my first doctor's appointment. Everything seemed fine. I was about nine weeks along and when they went to listen for the heartbeat, they couldn't find it. This did not alarm me because the same thing happened with my first pregnancy. The combination of my cervix position and a small baby made it hard to hear. Seeing how I was on COBRA Insurance at the time, I asked my doctor if we could postpone the ultrasound. She told me to come back in a week because by then we should for sure hear it.
The following week, the nurse took me back to a room. She couldn't find the heartbeat. She asked another nurse to come in and listen for it since the doctor was occupied. That nurse couldn't hear it. So they waited for the doctor. The doctor came in and she couldn't hear it. I was at the point that COBRA or not, we needed to do the ultrasound. This is when our story changed. As soon as she did the ultrasound, either she had "the look" that something was wrong, or I just knew. However, I was thinking about the heartbeat. There definitely was a heartbeat, but she also saw a large cyst on the back of our baby's head.
She immediately scheduled an appointment with the perinatologist at the Maternal Fetal Medicine office at a different hospital. I asked what this cyst meant which I later learned was called a cystic hygroma. In my non-doctor-like mind thought it would just go away or that we could pop it or something. She said it was a very big deal and was most likely a chromosome problem. Immediately I thought our baby had down syndrome since anytime someone says "chromosome" to me I think they are coating it for what it really means. With this she left the room to schedule me an appointment. I texted my husband and just said, "We have a problem with this pregnancy...a cyst on the baby's head/neck..."
I started to get emotional, not because I wouldn't welcome a child with down syndrome, but because I knew we lost the "normalcy" of our pregnancy. I had so many questions. When the doctor came back in, I asked, "So this chromosome abnormality means down syndrome?" And she looked at me saying, "Oh no. This is much more than that. This can be fatal for the baby." And that's when I lost it and have no idea what else she said. I was planning to just meet my husband at the other hospital and take our son (who was with me) with us. But as I was standing up to leave the doctor's office, my mom called. I was obviously crying and said we had a problem and she came right over to take our son while we went to the other appointment.
The entire trip to the other hospital I was an emotional mess...I'd take anything over losing this baby. I'd do whatever the Lord would have us do, I just did not want to lose this baby.
As I pulled up to the hospital, I saw my husband standing there and I ran up to him and essentially collapsed in his arms.
Now realizing that we were termed a "high-risk pregnancy" at just 10 weeks, we did another ultrasound to learn about this cystic hygroma. We were given genetic counseling where the counselor told us our "options." We were told this cyst could be due to three different things, the first being down syndrome, the second being lethal chromosome abnormality which meant that if we ever got to delivery they would monitor just me and not the baby and if the baby did survive the baby had a 90% chance of dying before its first birthday and the third thing was called Turner Syndrome which meant we had a 99% chance of losing the baby and if we were in the 1% that made it past 26 weeks, the baby could potentially have some/many health problems.
Also in this genetic counseling session the counselor told us we had the option of abortion. I told her flat out that was not an option for us, we would accept the Lord's will for us and this child.
We decided to proceed with a test called CVS where we would learn if there was a chromosome abnormality or not. I really felt that I would not miscarry with this pregnancy. My thoughts about the results of this CVS procedure was that the baby had no chromosome abnormality or that the baby had down syndrome.
After about 10 days of anxious waiting, we got the phone call. We learned our baby had Turner Syndrome, it was a girl, and that there was a 99% of this pregnancy not lasting. We prayed many days and nights that I would be in the 1%.
Around 15 weeks I started feeling her move. Everyday was a new day, a new day to worry, a new day to make sure I felt her moving. The doctor said that miscarriages didn't always result in blood, so she said I could come in as much as I wanted to listen for a heartbeat. I decided to go in every two weeks. The first appointment her heartbeat sounded nice and strong. The second appointment we had the same result--nice strong heartbeat. If the heartbeat sounded rapid it was an indicator of fluid buildup around the heart and fetal loss. We felt we were in the running to be in the 1% but we knew we weren't out of harms way yet. My doctor felt so encouraged from these appointments that she didn't schedule me for four weeks from this appointment.
The following week, I had my 20 week ultrasound. This was another big milestone for us as we were going to learn if there were any physical problems with the internal organs and such. The night before the appointment I prayed for good news and as I climbed into bed I felt her moving so much. I felt a confidence and renewed sense of faith.
We started the ultrasound and the technician did her thing and after about 10 seconds she just looked at me and said she was so sorry but there was no heartbeat. As she left to get the doctor I seriously thought their machine was broken or she didn't know what she was doing. I felt her moving the night prior, she couldn't have died!
The doctor came in and confirmed that she had passed away. I tell you, the worst sight was when she opened the screen that shows the pattern of a beating heart, and on our screen--there was nothing. Then she opened the screen that shows the movement of blood, and again, our screen showed nothing.
I was in a state of shock and thought that they would come right back in and extract the baby right then and there. The doctor asked us to go to her office and it was there that we learned that because I was in my second trimester that I had to go to the hospital and deliver the baby.
This day and the following were the worst. The doctor told me it would be a surgical procedure but when we were admitted to the hospital we learned that I had to go through the steps of labor and actually push our baby girl out. This was the lowest of low moments. I was so upset to have to go through this. I was upset knowing I had to go through labor and go home empty handed. I was upset I wouldn't hear our baby girl cry when she was born. I was just upset. However, I must note that I was upset with the circumstance, never were we upset with the Lord. We knew from the moment we were told we were high-risk that we would be given the strength to get through this trial and we knew--we truly knew--that we would accept the Lord's will, however hard it would be.
Angelina Joyce was born on April 1, 2009 at 6:11 p.m. I didn't know how I would feel when she was born and I wouldn't hear her crying, but as soon as she was born there was an unbelievable sense of peace come over both my husband and myself. As I held her and looked at her I said, "Hi baby girl....we'll see you soon." We truly believe we will be with her again and that we will have the opportunity to raise her in the eternities. We are grateful that we have a loving Heavenly Father in heaven who has made it possible--through his son, Jesus Christ--for our family to be together forever. We love our baby girl and will miss her while on this earth, but we know that she is with us as our guardian angel and our constant reminder to be live righteously so we can be together again.
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