The Unfinished Race

    In 7th grade, the Jr. High school counselor asked me what I wanted to do for a career. "Be a mom" was my simple reply. She seemed surprised at my response and didn't really know where to go from there. I remember she wrote, "Domestic Engineer" on my paper and sent me on my way. My mom had been a stay-at-home mom my whole life up until that point. It's not that society looks down on such a career but I guess as a life-long ambition, my counselor was less than impressed. Through the rest of my high school career, I thought I'd definitely go into a career in music. Just like most girls, I had my life mapped out-where I'd go to college, when I'd meet the perfect guy, when I'd graduate and have the perfect job and of course, kids would come into the picture at the perfect time. Don't get me wrong...I love my life. But on days like to day, I can't help but feel let-down.

    Imagine running a race. One of the really long races, like a marathon. Muscles aching, heart pounding, you've trained so long. You've done every excercise, you've practiced for months, you toned your muscles and you feel prepared. Suddenly, 5 miles from the finish line, you stumble. You're aching, and maybe you even gashed your leg open. Every part of your body and soul screams at you to give up. But you look up... everyone on the sidelines is cheering for you...you're family, your friends. Though you want to stop, you feel a gentle push telling you to finish. The next 4 miles are excruciating. Everything hurts worse, and at times, you don't feel you have it in you. People tell you you're strong and you find renewed strength, only to keep stumbling on your way. Finally, with 1 mile left, you see the 25 mile mark and know that you are SO close! You press on with all your might. Everyone in the crowd is cheering for you, telling you how great you're doing and that they are so excited for you. The race is easy again and you know it's going go be okay...

...suddenly, with 20 yards left, and like a rug pulled from underneath you, you fall. A hard fall this time-one that makes finishing the race impossible. That dream you had, that goal you had set flies out the window. The medics are on the scene now, telling you that it's going to be okay. They're gonna get you to the hospital and you'll be fixed up. Is it comforting? You're going to be okay, but you will never finish that race. You'll never take home a medal. People will say, "how did the race go?" and you'll have to hang your head and say, "I didn't finish." When your friends get together and talk about their medals and crossing the finish line, you'll be an outcast. Even though you ran the race and did everything right, you didn't finish. Do you feel sad? mad? empty?

Chances are probably not. Afterall, it's just a stupid race, right? It seems silly to compare my trials to a marathon, but on days like today, I just want someone to understand. I want someone to know how bad my heart is hurting. 

I got through 38 weeks (8 1/2 months) of my pregnancy with Scotlin and suddenly he was gone. My chances of being his mother were ripped from my grasp. I held him for a few hours and then handed his body to a nurse knowing that the next time I would see him would be in a casket. Life was SO DIFFICULT! I ached, I cried, I screamed. I told my story and people surrounded me. They cheered me one and I was lifted up. I got up again and I learned and I grew. I knew I could handle this. So many people prayed for us, and my relationship with my Savior strenghtened. I felt so relieved when Kayden came to us. I knew I'd been blessed and I was looking forward, with renewed hope, at my chance to be a mother. I was so close to that finish line when I fell. I cried again. I screamed at the doctors. I yelled at God, "I cannot do this again!!". Giving Kayden to the nurse was even harder, because I knew I wouldn't see him again. He would be placed in a casket, flown to Utah, taken to Logan where I would see his casket, trying desperately to remember how it felt to hold him.

  I'm not alone, either; so many people experience this loss. Maybe not in the form of infant or pregnancy loss. Maybe it's infertility or sterility. When that's not you, though, it's easy to forget that this type of pain exists. It seems that when 2 or more women get together, labor pains or the hardships of child-rearing are brought up. That's fine. But before you complain, think about the people around you (and the statistics say it's at least 25%) that have experienced a loss and would give anything to be in your shoes: to rock their crying baby to sleep in the middle of the night, or gain 75 pounds and feel sick and miserable during pregnancy. Anything that meant their baby was alive. It makes me want to scream, "WHY ARE YOU COMPLAINING TO ME?!?", "Don't you know I would give ANYTHING to have those things you're so recklessly complaining about?"

And then the guilt sets in, kind of like it is now as I write this post. (wondering if I should even post this, or if I'll regret it later when I get hate mail). I know that it's human to complain. I know that it's easy to feel down when things are overwhelming you. But when that instinct hits, bonk it in the head with a bat and realize how lucky you are to soothe your screaming baby, or clean the mud out of his teeth that he ate when you weren't looking, because you know he's alive and well and you can watch him grow and learn HERE, without hoping that your faith is enough to get you through this life until you get to see him again. 

OK, I'm done...seriously, let the bad vibes roll if it makes you feel better. Just post 'em in the comments...I can handle it. And most of all, if you made it this far, thanks for letting me vent. 

Kayden's Story

Wednesday June 13, 2012

      I had just gotten off the phone with Evan who was in Pennsylvania. He had been there all month for an internship and was expected to return on July 1st. I never thought those plans would change so instantly. Kayden wasn't kicking the bed like he usually did when I'd lie down, so I pulled out my doppler (the best present I ever received, thanks Crystal and Julie) and listened to his 140 beat per minute heart rate and fell asleep knowing he was just fine. 

Thursday June 14, 2012

      Morning came EARLY as I had to be at the hospital for clinical at 5:30. I was busy running around and all the while telling my patients that I was 27 weeks when they'd ask how far along I was. At 11:00  we were done for the morning and I went home to eat before returning to school for class at noon. I got there a little early and was talking to my friend, Crystal.
      Out of nowhere I felt empty, like something had just turned a light off. I remembered this feeling immediately because it was written on my heart. I told Crystal, "I don't think Kayden's moved in awhile". Jokingly, she rubbed my tummy and called to him, "Kayden, wake up!" I felt okay for a few minutes, but as we started class, I couldn't shake the feeling. I got up after a few minutes and walked out. I went straight to the back of the lab and laid on the bed. Tears came freely then, as I laid in the dark. My mind was reeling about what I had experienced moments before. "This cannot be happening again", I thought over and over. Those cries turned to sobs and, seeking comfort, I called Evan. I'm sure he was worried when I called him crying, almost unable to explain what was happening. "I just ate and Kayden's not moving. I drank a ton of water and he still won't move. Now I'm laying down, and, Evan, he just won't move."  He kept telling me to go home and check the heart rate with the doppler, but something inside me told me that was a bad idea. "What if I can't find it, Ev...I don't want to be alone." So, in all his wisdom, he told me to call my doctor. 
      Thankfully, Alisha (Dr. Lockwood's nurse and a dear friend) was available immediately. I was crying and explained my concern to her. She told me to go to the hospital and she would meet me there. She may never know how much that meant to me that I didn't have to be alone, but she saved me that day and I will always be grateful.I walked into my teacher's office, tear-streaked face and all, and explained to her what was going on. She arranged for Crystal to have my stuff brought home and I headed to the hospital, calling Evan and informing him of the plan. 
     I had already done 3 weeks of Maternity/Nursing clinical with the women on the 5th floor, so some of them recognized me. I had been having problems with pre-term labor since 23 weeks, so some of them had taken care of me as a patient already, too. My nurse, Sharon, got me into bed and immediately tried to find a heart rate via doppler. I told her where I usually find it and she was able to pick up something, but told the student nurse, Erin, to go get a pulse-ox. (They wanted to see what my heart rate was). Turns out that what they were picking up was not Kayden's, but my heartbeat and I cried. I screamed. I'm pretty sure I made a huge fuss. They told me not to worry, that the Dr. was coming to do an ultrasound. It didn't take too long for him to get there and by the time he did, Alisha got to me and was holding me. I repeated over and over, "I can't do this again, this can't be happening." 
     I called my mom at school and told her what was happening. She cried with me and I knew she was devastated. Her heart was breaking for me at the loss of my baby for the second time. I told her I had to call Evan, which I did. Gratefully, I was on the phone with him when they finally confirmed through 2 different ultrasounds that Kayden was indeed gone. We cried.


      SO many people were surrounding me and I could feel my boys in the room as well. I didn't once feel alone. Just during the ultrasound, there was Dr. Schneider; Alisha, Sharon, Cynthia, and Beth }all nurses; Erin, a nursing student; a med student (I forgot her name), and the ultrasound tech.The next hours were filled with tears and phone calls. It's all a blur, but I'm so grateful that my family and friends were so supportive and I felt the immediate lift from all the prayers being sent up for me. Evan, of course, jumped in the car and headed home. Bishop Wilson came to the hospital and gave me a blessing. In that moment I needed to hear, through the power of the priesthood, that my Heavenly Father was aware of me; that He knew my heart was broken, but that my Savior was close by to comfort me and help me through the heartache again. I'm so grateful for the power of the priesthood that I felt in that room. I'm grateful that my friend, Crystal, was there with me to feel of that spirit as well. 


    The phone call to my dear friend, Shanna, was one of the hardest. She had an almost-one-month-old at home and I knew she was going to take the news hard. We had been pregnant together for 5 months and already had plans of our babies growing up and getting married. :) But, like the good friend she is, she packed up and came right over. Lydee came too and we all cried together.  I held Lydee, realizing that the baby I would deliver soon would be a fraction of her size, and lifeless. I prayed that his body would be as perfect as his little spirit and that I would recognize him when he was delivered. Shanna and Lydee stayed the night (I didn't want to be alone and Shanna didn't want me to be alone). I took Ambien and it knocked me out, so I don't remember anything. But apparently I tried to convince Shanna that she could go home and leave Lydee with me. 

Friday June 15, 2012

    Doctor after doctor came into my room. My OB was out of town so every other OB took his place. They all gave their condolences and assured me that since this was our third fetal loss they would be sending me to a specialist and we would figure out the problem and get it fixed. I was grateful that something would finally be done and that they were considering the possibility that there was a detectable cause and a correlation between all three events. We decided to wait to induce my labor until Evan got there. It was a long drive and I knew he'd be tired. We called more family and I rested until Evan came at 2:00pm. It had been a full 24 hours since finding out about Kayden by the time Evan got there but it felt real all the sudden. I was grateful to see my husband after being away for 2 weeks, but I was so angry that it was under of these circumstances. We held each other and cried. We spent time just being together and taking it all in and just after 3:00 we moved over to the labor room. My mom and sister Julie got to the hospital around 7:00, I think, and  the tears came again. My labor was a process-pushing out a 27 week baby in a breech position is TERRIBLE and I'll leave it at that. 

June 16, 2012

It was almost 2:00am before Kayden was delivered. He was perfect in every way. His growth was on track my whole pregnancy and he weighed exactly what he should have weighed. He was 13.5 inches long.

Almost 2 lbs

     

He looked so small on that table. 

I loved holding my sweet little guy.

Every part of him was tiny, but perfect

The closest we'll get to a family portrait

His skin was very fragile, so we couldn't wipe the vernix off very well-that's why it looks a funny color.

L to R: Pamela, my fabulous delivery nurse who stayed 24 hours for me. Dr. Schneider the attending physician over my care, med student, and Dr. Erica Waddington who delivered Kayden. She was so fabulous and I'm so grateful to my medical staff that took such good care of me.

Grandma E. and Kayden.

Auntie Julie and Kayden

I love my boys! Notice Scotlin's in this picture too.

I LOVE MY MISSIONARIES!

June 23, 2012

     It was expensive and frustrating, but we were able to get Kayden to Utah so he could be buried with his brother. 

Some of our closest friends and family. We have felt so much love and support, not the least of which from the amazing people in this picture!

Autumn bought me some flowers so I could make an arrangement like I did for Scotlin. Also, Evan got a new tie and I got a new dress...it's sad when you have traditions for attending your son's funerals.

Our awesome parents

Bishop and Cathy Wilcock. aka. our Logan parents

The tripod. Our most cherished friends on the planet. They've gotten us through everything.

Evan and me with Brett Horsley. He was my OB in Logan and delivered Scotlin. We've become good friends over the years and he was kind enough to conduct the services we held for Kayden. I'm so glad he was able to come and share his spirit with us. He said the words that I most needed to hear to be at peace with the trials we've been asked to endure.

After Scotlin died in 2009, I told Heavenly Father that I could never go through this again. He probably just smiled and held me tight knowing that that was exactly what He had in store for me. I know that my boys are on the other side of the veil, teaching the gospel in the Spirit World. I know that they are perfect and that we will be reunited together as a family again. I'm so grateful that I was given the opportunity to carry such perfect spirits and give them the bodies they needed so they could move from one kingdom to the next without having to endure the hardships and sorrow of this world. They were too courageous and valiant to need to prove themselves on this Earth. Of course I am sad to not have them with me on earth, but I'm so grateful to be their mom and I know I'll see them again. 

I love you Scotlin and Kayden!

     

2 Years of Being an Angel Mommy...

...and it still hurts. Do I still wish I'd wake up and it'll all have been an awful dream? yes. Although, I can say that I've learned a lot about myself and my Savior since that awful day. 

        It's all very hard to describe. I think Evan can see the different person I've become. Maybe my family can too. But from any other viewpoint, you'd have a hard time knowing that I've grown and changed so much. My heart has changed. I can consider myself lucky, I guess, because many people who lose a child find that their heart becomes cold and hard. Their view of the world becomes bleak and empty. That happened to me for a while. But, thanks to my knowledge of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and also to the numerous prayers that were offered up on behalf of my family, my heart has been able to heal.

        I can think about November 24th, 2009 and be grateful for the events of that day. I can remember the week that followed and see the myriad of blessings that Heavenly Father poured down on my family and me. I can thank the people that took care of me and carried me for so long until I could take care of myself again (which was a long time). And, especially, I can think about my Scotlin, that beautiful, sweet angel that I held in my arms, and even though I cry, I can be grateful that I have a son that is PERFECT! 

       I know where Scotlin is. I know he's busy in heaven doing work for Heavenly Father that he couldn't have done if he was on earth as a bubbly little 2 year-old. I grieve his absence. But I'm so blessed to have a permanent angel watching over my family. I know that he'll be the last one our future children see before they come to Earth. I hope he tells them that we're the best parents ever and that we'll love them just as much as we love him!

       I'm doing well and I'm happy! But sometimes, in quiet moments, I'd love to catch a glimpse of Scotlin. I cry to think that he's in heaven while I'm here missing him. But I'm glad heaven has such a good angel. I think I'm the luckiest momma in the world