March 26, 2021: The Sun behind the storm

I'd like to begin by saying that I write this and share this not for attention, praise, or anything directed towards me. It is therapeutic and healing to share my story. Most of all I write to declare God's doing in my life and to make mention His name. He truly hath done excellent things and we would like to shout it out, that perhaps someone else may find peace and comfort knowing He is so aware, and so full of love for them.

On Sunday night my sister Tara requested a belly photo and I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I didn't feel right. I had been feeling low, dark even. I hadn't been feeling baby move as I had previously and I was really discouraged and at times I even thought, "I don't feel pregnant anymore." It was as if my body was trying to convince my mind of the truth it had already accepted. My dark feeling peaked and I was praying for peace. Then, I woke up in the middle of the night Wednesday and the phrase, "God hath not given us the spirit of fear" came clearly to my mind. This 2 Timothy scripture was not one I often repeated to myself, and was in the deep-down files of my brain, so I know it didn't just come from me. So, I took a deep breath and decided, "that's right, I do believe that." Our family theme this year is "Look unto me in every thought, doubt not, fear not" so I rolled up my sleeves and said to myself, "THAT'S ENOUGH OF THAT low feeling!" 

Wednesday was a busy day and my friend, Cheryl, knowing nothing of this, gifted me a heart doppler she enjoyed using with her babies while pregnant. I looked at her wide eyed and expressed how this was a tender mercy to me because I had been worried about my baby! The boys and I came home and tried it, but I couldn't find anything. That night Perris helped me and still nothing even after being as thorough as we knew how (and after clearly hearing my heartbeat and the fluid movement). We looked right into each other's eyes and exchanged the question, "are you prepared for the worst outcome here?" I cannot tell you how merciful a blessing to have felt as prepared as you can for this kind of news. Thursday went by, and I felt calm. As I went to sleep I told my parents and sisters, "I do feel nervous. I don't feel fearful, but there has been a decrease in movement. so I am going cautiously. I have to prepare myself..." I wanted them to have a hint of the worst for their own preparation.

Friday I woke up feeling rested, feeling calm. Around 7:10am I hopped in the car and headed straight east. The sky was dark, thunderstorms expected through the day. But ahead, a cluster of clouds opened up and the big, round, bright, FULL sun rising burst through. I said aloud, “I see you Heavenly Father. Thank you for being here.”  Then the sun faded behind the grey  storminess and I turned south and then west, straight into the black storm.  This metaphor was not lost on me - the message was “I am here, even behind this storm.” And I thought, if what I think could happen really is happening, there is not a more perfect setting of what I am heading into.

The medical staff all reassured me as I told each one I hadn't been feeling her, so I just waited. Then they couldn't find her heartbeat either. After they used the small ultrasound to look for her heartbeat and I peeked on the tiny screen and saw that cute profile, but no movement in the heart region. Nor did the doctor, so when they informed me they would prep the big ultrasound room to see better, I knew. I sent Perris a text. I was calm until he responded, "I am praying for you." By the time they met me in the ultrasound room I was openly weeping. I didn't want or need to look at the screen and a minute later she said, "I am so sorry. There is nothing." 

Then my hero, the huge, stranger-to-me, gray haired grandpa OB walks confidently into the room straight to my side and looks me right in the eyes and says, “I am so sorry” as he rubs my arm lovingly. Thank you for that kind man! He stayed right there and kept rubbing my arm as I sobbed and asked questions of “what next.” 

After many questions answered and protocols revealed, all the medical people left and for a moment I was alone. I bowed my head and said in a whisper between sobs, “Thank you Heavenly Father for telling me.” And then in walked my second hero, a tiny Latina grandma angel named Janet - the social worker.  She asked me how I am doing and I said through my tears, “I am okay. I knew.” She asked "How?" and I explained simply that I was a spiritual person and had been prepared for this news. She sat with me for a long time, asking about my family, my emotions, and supporting me as the Dr continued to come in with updates from the hospital. I sat with her for at least 30 minutes. Once I said I felt ready to go, she said, “Would you like to say a prayer together?” Yes! And she began a beautiful prayer of love for God and comfort for me and my family. Was there a better person to meet with me?

I called Perris as I drove away from the hospital and when I couldn't respond to his inquiries, he understood. He gathered our children together to tell them and quickly arranged his work needs so that he could be home. I then called my Mom, who immediately understood what my crying meant. She and my Dad offered a cemetery plot they had purchased just last year for their own future burial. They offered their love and I continued on my 25 minute drive home hypnotically. Jami called me, having been notified by Mom, just before I arrived home and we cried together, her offering whatever assistance needed.

Perris was standing at the door waiting for me as I pulled up and those set of arms held me lovingly as I wept. Thomas and Davey sat playing at the kitchen table and hollered things to me in their 5-year-old understanding, cheerfully unaffected ("The baby died, Mom!"), and Thomas came and hugged my legs. Perris and I sat on the couch and decided on her name, and started making calls. Hank and Wade meandered in and I called them over to me and spoke to them softly as we embraced. They stayed close enough to touch me the rest of the day, especially Hank. He was full of questions and thoughtfulness.

Because I had imagined this possible outcome, I had many ideas swirling in my mind to remember our daughter and honor her. A couple of days prior Wade had gone to the fabric store with me to choose quilt fabric for a baby blanket and after a few hours of sitting on the couch, I decided today was the best day to begin. They helped me layer the fabrics and pin, and we began embroidering her name. I knew when I called Perris leaving the hospital I wanted to spend the day together, and that included watching my favorite movie, Coco. What better movie to illustrate that family ties may continue forever? Thomas wanted to write Lennie's name, so I invited anyone to draw a picture or write a note. My heart burst with sadness and pride when I read Wade's note. Wade, my son for whom articulating emotions is not easy, quickly and unaided wrote these beautiful words:

I stop here to insert: my heart was broken, but my spirit was not. From the moment I began calling and informing family and friends through tears and sobs, I was literally being lifted up by the love given me. Lunch and dinner and flowers arrived. Within 12 hours my sister, Lyndsey, and her family were in my home. 24 hrs later and Perris' sister, Maddy, and husband, Stu, were in our home from across the country. We sat and talked and cried. They cared for my sons with love and tenderness while Perris and I were gone.