I had never really thought about how many children I wanted. My number has just grown with every time I felt we should have another addition.
After my second child I was really ready to wait and have the same space that she had with her brother (three years). But my husband, Christian, felt at the end of 2009 that we should have another baby. I wasn't ready, but I felt in my heart that it was time.
I knew it would be quick and it was. I was up visiting family, for my sister's wedding, when I found out that I had my third child on the way. Within an hour of finding out I started to bleed and I felt devastated that I might not have this baby. But in my first pregnancy I had the same problem and delivered that child so I had a feeling it would be fine and it was.
A few weeks later the pregnancy was confirmed and my baby was still there. At around ten or eleven weeks my husband was out of town when I felt a gush and realized that I was bleeding again. This time much worse than I ever had in any pregnancy. I waited for him to come home and we went to the ER. After a long visit I was informed the baby was still alive and that I should cross my fingers and hope it remained that way.
I had a hard pregnancy since I always get diabetes during. But I had in the back of my mind that it was temporary and I would bring home a beautiful baby because of my sacrifice. So I continued along my journey of being pregnant and excited for the surprise at the end of the line. We had decided not to find out the gender of our baby.
Tuesday, September 28th, 2010 I went into my doctor's office for a routine check up. I had felt uneasy for two days because my baby had not been as active as he usually was. But he had moved and kicked so I thought, maybe I am worried for nothing. I planned on telling my doctor that my little one was not as active as I usual, but I never got the chance. At the visit I was being checked to see if the baby's head was down since I was approaching my 36th week.
My doctor checked the heartbeat while he was doing an ultrasound. As soon as I heard my baby's heartbeat I knew something was wrong. It made me ill. The sound was hardly like a heartbeat since it was racing.
I was told to go to the hospital and that I would probably be admitted so that I could receive medicine for my baby.
I walked out of the office to the front desk and I could feel my hands start to shake. As I saw Christian I muttered quietly that we needed to go to the hospital. He asked why and I burst into tears. A sweet receptionist handed me a tissue and I hurried to the car. On our way to the hospital I explained the situation.
We had our two children with us so I sent Christian to drop them off at friends' homes. I timidly walked into the hospital and found where I should wait. My name was called and a hospital bracelet was attached to me. I was then directed where to go and I went down the elevator and walked to get an ultrasound done.
I checked in and sat in the almost empty waiting room. My stomach was tied in knots as I watched a stupid gameshow, I had never seen before, on the tv. It was an hour before I asked if I was going to be seen soon. They told me that they were trying to make room for me in the schedule. I tried to remain calm, but I was worried about my baby and I wanted to scream, "Can't you hurry?! My baby is in distress!"
I waited a little longer and then I was taken back. The ultrasound tech was very sweet, but I did not want to chat, I wanted to know if my baby was okay. After what felt like the longest ultrasound in the history of the world I had to hear the frightening heartbeat again. Then a doctor came in and he looked at the images and looked with the ultrasound himself.
I nervously sat while they kept coming in and leaving. Finally I was told that I was far enough along that if they just gave me medicine my placenta might prevent a lot of it getting to my baby. So they would be taking the baby c-section.
I had not brought my purse to my appointment so I did not have my phone and Christian still hadn't returned from dropping the kids off. I was starting to get nervous that he wasn't there. Finally he arrived just as the doctor finished telling me everything about my situation. He quickly summed it up for Christian and we were taken upstairs.
I dressed and got into my bed. My blood was drawn and a nurse started to hook me up to monitors. She couldn't find the baby's heartbeat so she had someone get an ultrasound machine. She looked for a minute while the anesthesiologist came in and talked for a second. Then the doctor, not mine because he was in a meeting, came in and the nurse informed her she couldn't find the heartbeat.
She came over and checked herself. She saw the heartbeat was just a flutter and she said that they needed to take me now.
The nurse said she hadn't put in my IV yet. So she quickly, amazingly painlessly, put in my IV and I was rushed to the OR. I remember banging into a few things on the way and my heart was racing at their urgency.
We got into the OR and I was shaking now. I had to move beds and I remember one of them saying, "Hurry Christy!"
I laid down and they put an oxygen mask over my mouth and started preparing me for the c-section. I asked when I would be unconscious since it was terrifying to watch them slather my pregnant belly with antiseptic.
The nurse told me, not long at all. That was the last thing I remember.
I felt myself being moved to another bed and then pain. I can't even describe the pain I felt. It was as though someone had ripped me in half. I cried for relief. They told me they were trying.
It took a few minutes in the haze of coming awake that I was coming out of a c-section. I told myself to ask about the baby. My mouth didn't utter the words for several moments after I thought them.
"Is the baby okay?" I uttered into my oxygen mask.
A nurse leaned over and whispered, "No."
I felt like I had just been punched in the stomach and I started to sob. I felt like I was in a very bad dream. It was then I realized I heard something. I turned and saw a blurry Christian crying next to me. I could vaguely make out the shape of a little baby in his arms. Christian's head was bent down toward his cradling arms.
"What was the baby?" I asked him.
"A boy." He told me.
For one brief second I was excited and happy. I had been right. All through my pregnancy I had thought he was a boy. I had only picked out a boy name and I rejoiced that I had in fact had a son. Then the grief took over again and I sobbed more. I cried for my small baby not breathing, for myself in my extremely broken situation, for Christian, and all the memories I would not create with the little boy in my husband's arms.
"I'm sorry." I repeated over and over to Christian.
As a mother it feels like I was more responsible since I carried him. I started looking back where things could've been prevented. I thought of my hour wait for my ultrasound and I wondered would that have made a difference?
After everything settled down, except the pain. Christian was given the opportunity to give our son a bath. I was still really fuzzy and I don't remember that very much. Then a nurse came in and brought a plastic bin of clothes in. She had us pick something for him to wear. Christian lovingly chose an outfit for our infant son. He was dressed and wrapped.
I was too weak to hold him. I was still in so much pain.
The next few hours were a bit of blur. Christian's parents were given a call by the hospital to tell them what had happened. Before my c-section, my parents had hopped into the car and started for our house 10 hours away.
Our Bishop for our church came and was so sweet to us. He even went and got food for Christian, since he hadn't eaten all day.
Then two friends came. One to take pictures of our sweet baby and the other as a support and bringing baby blankets. Those blankets he was wrapped in all the time we had them and now I sleep with one every night still.
Sometime that night we were moved to another room, a recovery room. We still had our baby and by then we had given him the name I had picked out, Declan.
I had told Christian at some point that night how much peace I had felt. I felt so loved and comforted. I was sure I was in shock, but I was grateful for the peace.
Christian curled up with Declan and slept while I laid half sleeping in my hospital bed.
About three in the morning my parents arrived. They sat quietly in our room as we tried to sleep. Then the next morning Christian had to go home and get food. He gave Declan to me and left. For the first time in the hospital I slept well having Declan with me.
I was surprised how heavy he was. He had been 8 lbs 14 oz even though he was over a month early. I snuggled up with him and slept the most peaceful sleep - that I since have struggled to sleep that well.
Christian's parents arrived and helped us with funeral arrangements - a task I never thought I would ever have to do this early in my life.
When it was time to say goodbye to Declan's body it was too much for me. I was so heartbroken I didn't think my heart would keep beating. It was then I was tested to my max. I had never had my faith tried to such an extent before.
Was there a Heavenly Father? Would I really see Declan again? I collapsed and started to panic. I had to throw everything I had ever learned at church out and start over. Did I believe in God? Was this really a planned design?
I cried and cried thinking they were going to have to take me out with Declan. I didn't think I could bury my baby. I couldn't breathe thinking about it. I couldn't do this!
Christian curled up in my hospital bed with me and held me while I cried and wondered.
Christian left for a minute and I was being examined and it was there at my rock bottom that I begged Heavenly Father. If He really was there I needed help and could not do this alone. I cried and prayed more fervently than I ever had before. I could no longer be a fence sitter. I had to know, not hope or not think, I had to know without a shadow of a doubt. I had to!
I mean it when I say that I know, in every way that a person can without visual evidence, that there is a God. He loves us all and life was no accident. This world was created with purpose and by a Heavenly Being with love for all that reside in His creation.
I have had moments of overwhelming grief since that day, but never like the day I had to say goodbye to my baby. Even at the funeral I did not feel scared or panicked. I feel as though I have been wrapped in a blanket of the comforting Spirit. I have longing and sadness as I think of my little Declan, but not hopelessness as I did that awful day.
We have only been almost 7 weeks without Declan. It has been the most contradicting journey. I have never felt so loved by my Heavenly Father at the same time my heart has never been so broken. It has been such an amazing 7 weeks and heart wrenching. I could not have such a testimony of the grace of God in any other way and I am so grateful for all I have learned and changed recently. But I want Declan in my arms.
In every birth of my children I feel like we got a glimpse of Heaven, but I felt that so much stronger with Declan. Our little hospital room was a peace of Heaven. We held our little Angel baby in our arms and felt his beautiful spirit around us; comforting us.
I will be forever grateful to Declan for choosing our family and teaching me how to rely on the Lord and be able to say, "Thou will be done."
