Our Loss, Our Angel

Written by Brianna:

Since yesterday was our sweet Demree’s fourth birthday, I thought it was a good time to share her birth story.  At times it feels like a life time ago, and then there are days like today where it feels fresh and new.  We love you Demree, and can’t help but wonder who you’d be today.  

Originally Written TUESDAY, DECEMBER 7, 2010

Our Loss, Our Angel...

From the beginning...

On Wednesday, December 1st, I woke up feeling agitated. I felt over whelmed, annoyed, and I know even my girls sensed it. I attributed this to the stress of our upcoming move (more on this another time), and all that I needed to get done in the next two weeks. I knew I had an appointment with my OB later on, but I was nervous to go. Considering I was just over eighteen weeks along, I thought I should be feeling my baby move more. I had flutters, and bumps every now and then, but nothing consistent. I expressed my concerns to both Nate and Kath, but I knew Nate had a busy day at work, and Kath was watching my girls, so I went to my appointment alone, as I had done before.

After waiting for almost an hour for Julia (my OB), because she was behind from a delivery, I finally got into the room for my ultrasound. Before we started I explained to her my concern over my baby's lack of noticeable movement. She said it could be that the placenta is in front, and that she would take a look for sure. Usually when she starts my ultrasounds she cuts straight to the sound of the heartbeat. This time she did not. Instead she was concentrating on taking several measurements. She asked again if I had felt the baby move at all, to which I replied yes, just not a lot, and not recently. She then told me she wasn't finding a heartbeat. At this moment I felt the blood rush from my face. She waited a second longer to see if it would "start back up", but nothing. She then checked the cord, and informed me there was no blood flow. The baby was measuring 18 weeks gestation, so what ever happened she believed it to be recent. Tears ran down my face as she explained what we needed to do next. I remember her telling me this was not my fault, that we would know more after I delivered the baby and the placenta, and yes, I was too far along for a D&C and I would need to deliver the baby. I was also told this would take 18-24 hours because my body was far from ready to deliver. I then asked her to look one more time at the ultrasound to see what we were having, since we had chose not to find out. She agreed, and looked at the best angle she could and said she was pretty sure it was a girl. Julia then left me to myself with instructions to talk with my husband to see when I wanted to go to the hospital to deliver our stillborn baby... our daughter.

Through massive tears I called Nate and my mom from the room at the doctors office. Nate agreed to come get me, and apologized for not being with me. Kath made arrangements for my girls to be taken care of for the night. When I left the doctors office I told Julia's MA that we wanted to get started as soon as possible. She said she would call with a time after she talked to Julia. I then left the building, and sobbed in my car. Looking back it is hard to believe this was a real moment in my life, and not a dream or a hoax I had worked up in my head.

Nate's dad drove Nate to me, and we hugged in the parking lot. I then asked to be taken to my mom's to see my girls... I needed their loves. By this point the doctor's office had called me back to tell me to be at the hospital at 7:00pm. This gave me hours to wait, cry, hug my babies, cry, cry some more and receive a wonderful priesthood blessing from my husband and his dad. This gave Nate time to gather my things, call and tell a few people, and hug our babies... he takes such good care of me.

Next Nate, me, and Kath headed to the hospital as instructed. At 8:30pm they then started me on my first dose of what would be several doses of Cytotec . This drug is what they use to thin and dilate your cervix. I then proceeded to spend the next 27 hours waiting, cramping, crying, being "checked", being freezing with fever chills, being hot when the fevers broke, and in the end just being finished... physically, mentally, and emotionally finished.

Around hour 26, Julia came to check me, and see what we could do to get this moving. When she did I was finally dilated to a one, and she decided it would be best to break my water. I had mixed feelings about this because I had heard babies in such a fragile state held up better if they delivered in their water sack, but at this point we really needed things to progress since I was past the 24 hour mark. Immediately after she did this the "real" contractions started frequent and hard. I had thought about doing this naturally, but Julia suggested an epidural in case my placenta wouldn't separate and she had to go "fetch it". If this ended up being the situation and I had an epidural she would do so in the room, if not she would have to take me to surgery. This would mean precious minutes or more that I would not get to spend with my baby, and that was not an option.

On December 2nd, 2010, right around 11:53pm I delivered our celestial angel, Demree Ray, with no pushing or pain. None of us were quite prepared for the unannounced way she came into this world. Due to the epidural I had no feeling and I was exhausted, so we didn't even know for at least twenty minutes that she had made her entrance. At first this was very difficult for me, but I decided not to waste precious time dwelling on guilt and circumstances we couldn't control. We also were unprepared for how tiny she was, and the strong rush of emotion for all of us that her arrival brought. We knew she would be small, but she was SO small... 7.5 ounces and 7.5 inches long. 

She may have been tiny, but she was perfect with all her tiny little features... ten tiny toes, ten tiny fingers, all with tiny nails. She had J's nose, a tiny pink tongue, and she came out with her hands crossed in her lap... such a lady. She looked peaceful. When Julia got there she informed us that Demree had suffered a "cord accident". The cord was wrapped around her neck three times, her neck was constricted and bruised, and her head was slightly swollen. There was nothing we could have done to save her and sometimes this is helpful to know, but at other times for a control freak like me it just feel helpless. 

We all took our turns holding her before Nate's dad arrived to help him give her a blessing. Nate gave our baby daughter the most beautiful, inspired blessing I have ever heard. I then just held her on my belly, trying to take her all in, and make a lifetime of mental memories since I knew our time together would be brief. Share (a non-profit group to help mothers with pregnancy and infant loss) arrived around 3:00am to take molds of her hands and feet, and a professional photographer took pictures of her for us as well. These women have all suffered the loss of a child, and they were definitely angels in human form. The level of compassion they showed to us as complete strangers was the most Christ like act of service I think I have ever witnessed. I only hope to eventually be able to pay their love forward.

After Share left we knew it was time to call the mortuary. As much as I would have loved to stay in that room with her forever, her little body was deteriorating by the minute. It was time to send her to a safe place until we could bury her in her final resting place. Saying goodbye before they took her away was incredibly difficult. We said a prayer with her, Nate, me, and Kath all took turns kissing her goodbye, and we sent her on her way. Oh how my heart and empty arms ached. The nurses let me leave about thirty minutes after Demree did. I needed to get out of there. Leaving the maternity ward at 5:00am empty handed was so hard, but I had an amazing support system with me. 

Nate has been so wonderful. He holds me, cries with me, and just is there with me. I love him more now than I ever have before, which is amazing to me since I didn't know that was possible. My mom, "my Kath", is as always our selfless supporter. I don't know what I would have done without her there. We feel so very loved by so many friends and family members. The texts, emails, phone calls, and Facebook posts of loving thoughts and offers to help have been endless. Our sincerest thanks to you all.

Today, December 7th, 2010, we had to do something I hoped we would never have to do... we had to bury our child. Nate and I went to the mortuary just the two of us before the graveside service to say our goodbyes to Demree and "tuck her in". She looked so perfect in her little white dress, hat, and booties that Nana had made. We both held her again, left letters from each of us in her casket, took pictures with her in her casket, made sure her clothes were not bunchy and booties were in tact, and all together just took the time to take in her peaceful presence. We then said our final goodbyes, and drove to the cemetery.

We chose to have Demree buried in the "Baby Land" portion of the cemetery. It brings us great comfort to know that she is surrounded by other perfect, little beings as herself. Nate's dad said some beautiful, comforting words, and then Nate dedicated her grave. M and J, looking so beautiful in their Christmas dresses, then released balloons into the sky as a gift to our "Baby Demree". After they let the balloons go, they quickly ran through the cemetery to get a better look as they drifted off to heaven. It was a beautiful moment of child like innocence that I never want to forget. It was all very fitting, and we felt very loved and supported by our family members.

So now we go back to "normal life", and trying to define what that is for us now. There is a void in our family that will not be able to be filled in this life, and that is our reality that we have to learn to live with. We are honored that the Lord would feel we are strong enough for such a trial, and that Demree chose us as parents. We love you Demree Ray, and will miss you dearly. We know you are in good hands with our Heavenly Father and our Savior, and we know we will see you again. For the time being, have fun playing with Carter and Addelyn. :)

Remembering

October is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, as well as October 15th being National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day.  I love taking the time to celebrate my babes who were born still, and taking stock of the ways they have touched our lives.

In October Utah Share holds "The Walk to Remember".  This event is a symbolic walk for loved ones to take the steps their babies will never take.  After a small walk around the park there is a giant balloon release.  During this balloon release they read off all the littles names as their families release balloons heaven bound, some with messages written on them.

I love the walk.  I love the symbolism of it all.  I love that my babies here get a chance to remember sisters they don't see every day.  I love that for those few hours I get to relish in the thought of five daughters instead of three, and when people ask how many kids we have they really want to know about them... all of them.  I am saddened to see that there are others who are living without a piece of their hearts too, but find strength in our ability to lift each other up.  I love giving our babies an "event" of  their own.  I love to remember. :')

The other way we like to remember is by participating in the Wave of Light.  I usually post something like this on my Facebook in hopes of spreading the word...

I love when friends, and family either post or send me pictures with their candles lit on October 15th.  It is such a small gesture, but usually that's the best kind.  I feel of their love for me, our family, and our babies that they never got to know.

Happy October little babies.  May your short, little lives continue to change the world for the better. 

Broken

This Friday is our second Angel Baby, Alex’s, 3^rd birthday.  In honor of her, I thought it was time to share her birth story that I originally shared on my personal blog shortly after she left us.  Sorry in advance... it is a little long, but I know she deserves every word. :’)

Originally written SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 11, 2011

Broken...

On early Friday morning, September 2nd, I was up in Park City, UT waking up from our annual Swiss Days overnight stay with my mom and friends. My sleep had been restless at best so I decided to calm my nerves I would use my Doppler to check on our baby. I looked patiently for a steady heartbeat, but only found inconsistent readings. I put down the Doppler to get in the shower. At this point I was starting to panic. I found myself praying through tears in the shower that I was being irrational. When I got out I tried to pull it together as not to disrupt the day. I obviously am not good at this, and my mom knew of my fear so she suggested we go to a clinic in town and get an ultrasound to ease my frantic mind. I agreed.

Navigating Park City was a joke. Everything looks the same, and it was too early to ask anyone for directions. I really wanted a clinic in an effort to save money, but when we called one we found out they didn't open until 8:00 am and she wasn't sure if they had an ultrasound machine. Unfortunately this individual was so ill informed she didn't even know the address to the hospital... we were on our own. After being led astray by the GPS once, we pulled into the parking lot to a school to decide what to do. All the while I am using my Doppler, but the readings were still so inconsistent. By inconsistent I mean the heart rate would spike and then come back down to what would be considered my pulse rate. We decided to leave the school parking lot, and head towards the outlets. Not a half a mile out of the school we saw a blue hospital sign. We followed it with relief, and pulled into the ER sure to ease crazy Brianne's mind.

I was in tears as we entered the ER. My mom and I went right up to admit and my mom requested firmly she needed to pay for an ultrasound, and explained briefly my medical history. The admit clerk was very kind, and said we would need a doctors order, but they weren't very busy and could accommodate me fast. I was lead straight back by a doctor, a nurse, and an orderly. The doctor went over my history, and asked if I had any bleeding, cramping, contractions, or recent accident. I answered no, but explained about the readings I was getting on my Doppler. She said she had already ordered an ultrasound and they had a hospital Doppler ready to see what they could find.

The nurse began to administer the Doppler as I lay there. At first she too could only pick up my pulse rate, but then she started to get some higher readings. No sound, but at least readings she was picking up. She then explained how it will be interesting to see where the baby and the placenta are positioned, because that could be why it was so hard to get a reading. As they wheeled me into ultrasound, I felt a little more hopeful. I kept relying on at least the nurse saw something. This faded fast as the ultrasound tech began. Instead of immediately showing me the heartbeat, she told me she was going to take some measurements. After losing Demree I knew this was a bad sign. I quickly asked with a crackled voice if she could see a heartbeat, to which she soberly replied "I don't".

At this point I can't remember how loud I cried out. I'm sure it was a lot louder in my head than it actually was. Through tears I asked my crying mother to call Nate who didn't even know I was at the hospital... I didn't want to have to worry him. She stepped out and did so while the tech continued to take measurements. I knew our baby's size would be close to where it should because I had good fetal heart tones not even two days prior. Our baby's death was recent. Our baby was measuring seventeen weeks as it should, and I didn't even have to be told that I would have to deliver again. I knew it.

The doctors then proceeded to have radiologists look at the ultrasound to be sure, and they also tried to contact my doctor who I later found out was out of town. The radiologists came to the same conclusion which was no shock to me... I had seen our still child with my own eyes. Next I talked to my doctor, Julia, over the phone who was in Lake Powell. She urged me to wait until she could get back. I struggled with this, but knew I would have to wait a little while because my regular hospital was very full. I left my conversation with Julia with not being sure of our plans, but expecting a call back from her or her office. I could tell she was as astonished as me. She said she has never had two fetal demises at almost the exact same gestation. All I could think was this is not something I wanted to be in the record books for.

Of course Nate could not stay away from me even though I was soon to be released from the hospital in Park City. His dad drove him to me, and he was there right before I was able to leave. Oh how I love this man. My heart breaks for the pain I know he has suffered. Even in the worst of situations I feel comforted in his presence... he is my rock.

On the drive home Julia's office called me and told me they had my induction scheduled for Sunday night. I asked if there was any way to do it earlier, and they said Julia really wanted to be there so I reluctantly agreed.

Since our original plans included going to the cabin for the extended weekend, we decided to send the girls anyways. As much as I wanted to have them home, because it makes me feel better, it would have been selfish. No child needs to see their parent that sad, that out of it, that lost. I then spent the next two days as a walking tomb, while Nate tried to take care of me. It was hard, and that is an understatement. My insides felt crushed, and I had to remind myself to breathe. I also watched my body physically change. My little, hard baby bump was already shrinking, I felt no hunger, and my skin even started to clear. My body was clearly no longer nourishing my baby, and it was apparent.

On Sunday morning I got a call that I didn't answer, and Sunday around noon I got another call from the same number. This time I listened to the messages, and found out it was the hospital informing me of a miscommunication. Julia would not be back for a day longer than they expected, so if I wanted to have her there I would need to schedule for Monday night, but if I wanted to use her partner on call I could stick with our original plan. My heart sunk. I really wanted Julia to be there, but I really knew I couldn't wait another twenty-four hours. I decided to use her partner, and then we asked if I could come any sooner. They said any time, so with in an hour or two we were off.

After we arrived at the hospital, and were admitted, Nate asked if I could have another ultrasound just to be sure. My nurse, Renae (same nurse who delivered M and is the mother of my best friend from high school), said that would be fine. This ultrasound tech was much more sympathetic to our situation, and asked before she started if we wanted to know what she was doing while she was doing it. I liked that I would know what she was measuring, and I found this part very helpful. So there again I stared at the screen as she showed us our still baby. She took many measurements, and our baby was measuring 17 weeks 1 day. I asked her to tell us if she could see what the gender was since we had originally planned to not find out. She said since the baby isn't moving it is hard because you only get one angle, but asked if we would like her to guess. I said yes, and she said her best guess is "girl". I told her she was probably right since that is all we make, something that I am really so proud of. From there, with our minds at ease, we went back to my room so I could officially be started.

Before they started the drugs, Nate and his dad gave me a Priesthood blessing. I am always thankful, especially at times like these, for the Priesthood being so present in my life. The next nine hours consisted of cramping, chills, beeping machines, and very little sleep so I wouldn't take a chance of missing anything. At around 3:00am I felt, and heard a pop. My water had broke. I called my nurse in immediately and she checked me to reveal I was dilated to a 5, and they thought they could feel a hand or a foot. Next they placed an epidural which I really didn't need, but if you don't get it and the placenta doesn't detach, you take the risk of having surgery right away to remove it. Time is SO precious with these little babies it is just not worth the risk of losing one minute.

At 3:42am on September 5th, 2011, I gave birth to our second celestial daughter, Alex Beth. She weighed 5 oz and was 7 1/2 inches long... same length as Demree. She came out with the cord wrapped loosely around her arm, but everything else was normal including her cord and placenta. Alex was perfect looking. All of her features and parts were so tiny yet SO perfect... all she needed was more time to grow. At this point I was thankful for the time spent before the hospital to mourn. I really felt like I could take her in to the fullest.

Share came to the hospital to make foot molds and take pictures of our sweet baby. Both of the women who came, Toni and Tanya, are my friends on Facebook. They of course felt awful that I was here again in less than a year's time. Toni has suffered multiple losses as well, and her insight was very helpful. Again I was astonished at there giving spirits, and only hope to pay it forward one day. Share is truly an inspired program.

After Alex was born, and the doctor got there to look things over I asked him what my options were so I could get some answers. He said they could do chromosome testing, which is very expensive and he doubted we would get any answers since her little body showed no signs of chromosome abnormality. We also had the option of an autopsy, but he doubted they would find anything there either. He also said that after autopsy they can't promise there would be much of her left, and this didn't sit well with me or Nate. For routine purposes they will still autopsy the placenta and cord, but again they are doubtful they will find anything. So for now we are left with mountains of questions that we may never get answers for. This has to be one of the hardest parts.

As the morning went on we knew that it was time to say goodbye to our little one. We were so exhausted, and we knew we still had the task at hand of telling our girls there would be no more baby after Christmas, and that we had another family member in Heaven with Heavenly Father and Jesus. Renae called the mortuary, and since it was a holiday they were short handed. We loved and kissed our little Alex goodbye, and left her in Renae's capable hands until the mortuary could pick her up. Again I will say that leaving the maternity floor empty handed makes for the longest wheel chair ride ever. It is lonely... very lonely.

We picked up our girls, and broke the news. M was pretty upset. Her bottom lip hung out in an effort to hold back her tears. We explained that it is okay to be sad, okay to cry, and reminded her again that Alex is now with Demree in Heaven doing lots of important stuff. I am pretty sure J understood to best of three year old ability. I know she no longer asks if I have a baby in my tummy, so our message must have been received. They took it like I expected... hard, but kids always take things better than adults. Their innocence helps them to accept what comes, and know it will be okay. As parents this part was so hard for us. Explaining death to such young kids, and also disappointing them that there will be no baby in our house to hold was and is crushing.

The next few days were spent crying, and planning Alex's graveside. We kept the girls going to school, and I did my best to avoid people in general... I still am doing that. On Friday, September 9th, 2011, we laid Alex Beth to rest. She is buried in the plot bordering Demree on the west side. It was a beautiful little service with our immediate family honoring Alex's brief existence on this earth. Nate did a great job dedicating her grave, something I know is so hard for him, but something he would never let anyone else do. I couldn't help but stare at Alex's little casket, and then stare at Demree's gravestone, and then think in disbelief that I really am here doing this again. 

Now I wake up every morning full of sorrow that Alex is no longer growing below my heart. I feel broken... my body, my spirit, and most of all my heart. I understand where she is now, and I know this is part of the plan... her plan, the Lord's, and ours. In no way do I feel this is fair, but life isn't. I wanted this baby so bad... maybe more than anyone has ever wanted a baby, or at least I like to think so. I tried to give her a perfect home for her seventeen short weeks of life, and I prayed often for her safe arrival. I now am trying to re-establish what normal is... again.

One thing I do know is that we are loved. We may have the best support system ever. We know if people could they would do ANYTHING to ease our pain. For this we are so very thankful.

Alex, we love you baby... eternally.