Wrapped in a Blanket

Evan came home from his audition rotations for the weekend. He had been gone 6 weeks and has 6 more to go, but I guess he couldn't stand being away from us, so he came for a visit. :) We loved having daddy home and it was such a great weekend! (and I got some much-needed housework done!)

While Evan was here, he told me all about his rotation in Michigan and how much he loved it! The residents, the attendings, the academics, the hospital-he raved about it all. Then, somberly, he started to tell me about an instance that I've been thinking a lot about ever since:

While talking with another student, there were people standing in the hall joking and laughing around him. He noticed a man and a woman, both nurses, walking toward him. They had a different air about them. Ignoring the people laughing and talking, they walked through the hall. The man had what seemed like a bundle of blankets in his arms. Evan knew immediately what was inside. The other student said, "That looks like a baby." Evan said he turned toward her and said, "It is. They're going to the morgue." 

I cried for an hour after he told me about this experience. We talked for awhile about it and how it made each of us feel. It flooded memories into my mind of the hours I spent in my hospital rooms after handing my babies to nurses that I barely knew. Those nurses then walked through the halls of the hospital with my babies, wrapped up in blankets, and handed them to someone in the morgue. They were laid in a cold, sterile, metal room. They were examined. They were measured. Samples of their tissue were looked at under microscopes and sent off to labs. They were sent to the mortuary where they were laid in a box. My sweet babies were wrapped in blankets, where they have stayed ever since. 

I couldn't help but feel heartache for the family of that little baby. They were sitting in a room somewhere in that hospital feeling the same hurt and pain that still plagues me today. 

It's a good illustration of how the whole world buzzes around you when your world has come to an abrupt halt. You feel a deep, palpable, ache and you don't know how you're going to keep going. All the while, everyone around you continues on with their life. Eventually, you do too. It takes awhile, and the hurt returns when you don't expect it. Tears flow freely when you hear a mother calling to her son with the same name as yours. There are a few times a year when I pull out the box of Scotlin's and Kayden's things and crumple into a mass of tears as I look at their tiny handprints and the outfit still stained with blood. It sounds masochistic, but it has a healing power--to feel close to my sons when they aren't here. 

It's a sweet feeling to be able to pick up one of my MiraCole babies and snuggle them to help my heart feel better in these instances. I know that I am a very blessed mother. I thank my Father in Heaven every day for my babies, the living ones and the angel ones.  And when I climb into bed at night, after putting the kids to bed, I realize that we're just one big, happy family-all wrapped in blankets.  

"Hope Ya Know, I'm Having a Hard Time"...

...Sometimes as I pray to my Father in Heaven, some version of this phrase is blurted from my mouth. Not daily, but on the particularly rough days. He doesn't need me to tell Him, though. I believe that He knows my heart. He knows I'm struggling long before I tell Him myself. 

I also believe that these "hard times" are essential to my growth. For some reason I have to learn some of my hardest life lessons through loss. 

People tell me all the time that they couldn't go through what I've gone through. I promise you that isn't true. If you asked me three years ago, I would have told you, "I could never go through that" too. I am not special. My trial is not easier or harder than yours. I am not more faithful. I am not better or stronger. I'm just different. God asks different things from each of us because we learn and grow in different ways. We could not learn what we needed to learn if we all had the same experiences. 

I'm a total sucker for these "Mormon Messages" videos. They make me cry. Especially when the speaker has a message that's particularly relevant to my situation. But THIS video (it's short, like 3 1/2 minutes) not only made me cry, but motivated me to be a better disciple of my Savior Jesus Christ. 

I have resolved to trust my Savior and to look to Him to help me through my pain, through my sorrow, and through my grief. He understands me. I'm so grateful for Him and the sacrifice He made so that I can have that companionship here on Earth and throughout the eternities!

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!

     

From an outside perspective.

Tonight, I was watching a show on Hulu. Not the most productive use of my time when I always complain about being busy, but ya know...I felt like being lazy. In this show (to remain unnamed), a waiting-for-her-baby-to-be-delivered mother breaks her arm, and during the exam, the Dr. realizes the baby has died. It doesn't say so immediately, but the mom asks if the baby is alright and the Dr. says, "yeah, baby's just sleeping" and leaves the room. It then shows the Dr. telling another Dr. that the baby has died. I cried. Not gushing tears, like I would've expected, but I cried. Mostly, I felt grateful that a TV show was portraying fetal death at all...it's usually so taboo.
    As the show progresses, there's another scene where the Dr. goes to tell the parents what's really happened. She knew, I'm sure of it...the mom probably knew the whole time, but she tells the Dr., "Say it...I won't believe it until you say it." The camera cuts back and the mom and dad start crying as they hold eachother and the Dr. stands there with her head in her hands. I cried again. I thought that would be the end of that part of the episode, but it wasn't.
    Toward the end, it shows the mom delivering her lifeless baby. The Dr. wraps the baby up and hands her to the mom. Mom takes the baby and holds it tight while her husband holds her and they cry together. I cried again (honestly, most people would).
    The point, you ask? All this time, I have only thought of Scotlin's death from my perspective. Even when my mom tells me about how hard it is to watch her daughter go through something like this. Even when my sisters write blog posts about what it was like to be there with me during my labor and holding my son. Those are real instances, so I don't know why watching a portrayal of it by some actors on TV touched me so much, but as I watched and cried, I realized that I've never given myself credit for this really hard thing I've gotten through. That's not to say I've done it alone, because I've had an amazing support system through it all. But, I made the decision to stay strong. I made the decision to turn to Heavenly Father. I decided to keep going to church and work and school. Like I said, I didn't do these things alone. But even with all the people encouraging me, I could have just said no and stayed in bed for years, never showered, quit my job, ruined my marriage, stayed depressed, and gotten fat (or sickly skinny-one of the two).
   I always told my sisters that I hated it when people told me I was "so strong" because they only saw me then I was at work or church or school and I was dressed with make-up on and going about my days. I just didn't want to hear that I was strong because of all the secret, and often sacred, times when I was sobbing uncontrollably in the corner with matted hair, running make-up, blotchy face and puffy eyes whild I screamed outloud, and eventually prayed to my Father in Heaven that he would just send my son back, or that He would just take all the hurting and aching away. You didn't see me then, and I felt guilty to be called strong when I had such low moments.
  But today, after a stupid show opened my eyes a little more, I actually feel strong. I feel like I've accomplished (rather, am accomplishing) something really important and difficult. Thank you for encouraging me. For telling me I'm strong, even after all those times I asked you not to!

Getting Over The Hills

My sisters are both excellent writers and I love reading their blogs. The other day my sister wrote a post that linked back to THIS post about a year ago which seems fitting for me to blog about today. After a couple posts in a row about how terrible my life is, I thought it's probably time for me to find some perspective. This is the picture Julie blogged about that I wanted to share:

My mind seems to believe that God can only give me so many trials before He pours out the blessings. As nice as that would be...it just doesn't work like that. Heavenly Father gives us trials for us to learn and grow. While we're enduring them, it's really hard to see the big picture. Once we get to the top of our hill, we may see a beautiful view and think "Wow, that was totally worth it!" or, like in my case lately, we may see nothing but more and more hills up ahead. One benefit is that when we see those hills, we can look behind us and think, "Well, I just made it up that one...bring it on!" 

The most redeeming quality about these hills and the journey we're all on is that we're not ever alone. We have each other, and we have our Savior who has experienced the good and bad feelings of everything we have gone through or will go through. If, while we're struggling up our hills, we can remember to pray and to think about the view waiting for us at the top, we will endure well and we will be blessed! Happy December everyone!

Much Love

Feelin Warm and Fuzzy

The countdown has been running, and It's down to the last TWO WEEKS before we get to go home to Utah! Luckily, Evan's brother Stephen is getting married in Logan, so we'll get to see BOTH SIDES of the family! Meanwhile, our school schedules are absolutely PACKED with tests and practicals. It's a bit stressful, but at least we get an awesome prize at the end of the two weeks, wouldn't ya say? 

Besides getting to see our family, and see Stephen and Bryndel be sealed forever {which is awesome, because we love Bryndel and are so excited she's going to be part of our family}, we get to be in Logan for Scotlin's birthday! Last year, I was sure that it would be years before we'd get to visit him on his birthday, but I was wrong! And very fittingly, his birthday is ON THANKSGIVING! We have so many reasons to be thankful for Scotlin and our FOREVER FAMILY!!!

Also during our trip, we get to spend time with the two oldest of my four younger brothers that are leaving on their MISSIONS on November 30th! Evan is going to Alabama and Ben is going to Washington, DC. I'm so proud of them, and they're both going to be excellent in their search for people to share the gospel of Jesus Christ with! 

 I've been laughing this week while all my friends and family back home are posting pictures of the SNOW in Utah!! I shouldn't though, because the Midwest is supposed to get slammed this winter and they'll all be laughing at me. But for now, I'm enjoying the jacket-weather and taking long walks while taking pictures of the beautiful fall colors!

The sky turned out really pretty in this one...I especially love how the flash illuminated the road sign behind us.

This is right next to our house which is --> direction.

And later that night, like the good students we are, we went to school and studied. Look at how enthusiastic Evan is...he really loves school!

And last-but-should-be-first are our amazing friends Devin and Shanna! We cuddled up and watched Hocus Pocus for Halloween! It was terrific, but I hope they don't care I posted this picture...they didn't even know I was gonna take it.

I know a lot of people feel a change as the end of the year draws nearer. I know that for me I remember, more frequently, to be grateful and to look for joy in my life. I know Evan and I are where Heavenly Father needs us to be, and I'm grateful to serve Him and allow His spirit to be with me. Happy November everyone!