At home I was pretty angry. The contractions were really coming and I hated them. They no longer meant that I would see my baby soon. All they were to me now was unnecessary and cruel torture. As Martin brought our ready-to-go suitcase down, I angrily unzipped it and began to take out the new nursing jammies, the pacifier, and everything else that I knew I wouldn’t need. My baby was dead. I was carrying a dead baby. The thought just keep stabbing at my clouded haze of grief and surprise. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me! Martin and I just kept sobbing and holding each other. Eventually, I squared my shoulders and said, let’s get this done. I don’t want to deal with this anymore. As I was walking out to the car with Martin still gathering things inside, a neighbor up the street pulled over and said, “So when are you going to have that baby?!” . Of course she didn’t know. I told her that we had lost the baby and that we were on the way to the hospital. She immediately threw the car into park, jumped out and hugged me. We said our goodbyes and away to the hospital we went.
I was angry as we parked in the same place we had for two previous births. I was angry as I walked past all the people staring at me outside the hospital. I was angry that I still had to sign in at the front desk, and grateful at the same time that all I had to say was my name and no questions were asked. There was a lot of unspoken sympathy on their faces.
We were led to a room. It was the same room that we were in when we had Hyrum. At first, I didn’t want that. Then, sweet memories of the birth came, and I realized, it was okay to have a birth and death in the same room. It was almost comforting to know that we were blessed in this room. Life is so close to death sometimes, and it is by the grace of God and His plan that keeps us in mortality.
Matt was already waiting in the room for us. He just happened to have been in Denver and was able to be dropped off. Miracle #3. He hugged us and I went and got dressed. Shortly after, Matt gave Martin and I blessings. It was set up that Linda would pick up Valerie from the airport and she would go to our house. I was so relieved to know that Valerie was going to be there.
They gave me an epidural right away. I was hoping they would start the pitocin as well. It wasn’t until 1 ½ hours later did they start it because Martin asked. I went through cycles of emotion over and over again. From intense sadness to pain to anger to acceptance and a whole range of emotions in between.
To add to all of this, I was having a really hard time with the epidural. I kept feeling really “weird” is all I could say to describe it. I was in a weird haze, I felt dizzy laying down, nauseous and had a headache. I really didn’t feel well!
I guess it got bad enough that Martin thought he was going to lose me too. They had to give me blood pressure medicine a few times because my pressure kept dropping really low. Martin said there were alarms going off silently all the time. The hard thing was, there was no belly strap on my tummy for the baby. I had gotten so accustomed to that thump, thump, thump, as much as watching for the intensity of the contractions. I tried not to dwell on it though. I had to do this no matter what. I had to make decisions about funeral arrangements, what we were going to name the baby, and then it hit me. What about the kids?!? How do we tell them? How will they handle it, especially sweet Tyler who has a hard time letting go of anything, including a screen door? All of a sudden my whole thinking shifted for a while, from me and Martin to our kids.
Do we let them see/hold her? How do we tell them? We were having such a hard time; I don’t think we could have been strong in front of them. And then it came to the funeral arrangements. What do we do? This is where I would get angry a lot. I didn’t want to choose a casket. I didn’t want to think about where to bury her. I didn’t want to have this big production and luncheon and make this a big sordid affair. I wanted to have my baby and I wanted to rebel. Fortunately, Heavenly Father was watching out for me.
Miracle #4 happened when he chose my doctor and my nurse. My doctor was the sweetest man. He took a lot of time with us, telling us things that he had researched for us, talked about the various options we had in determining how she died. He pulled up a chair and just listened. We asked him his opinion about what we should do about letting the kids see Phoebe. I don’t remember his suggestions, but I do remember feeling good about not letting them see her. I didn’t want to have that stress at the hospital, when that could be the last time I saw her. I couldn’t deal with their grief too. So another step had been taken. I started to realize that one step was enough for me. I couldn’t think too far down the road or I would start to freak out. I couldn’t even think about delivering, and what that would be like.
I was starting to get really frustrated that the labor wasn’t going faster. I just wanted to have this done! Looking back on it now though, I realize that Heavenly Father was giving me time to cope and adjust and make decisions before my little girl made her entrance. I just kept saying to myself, one step at a time. Throughout all of this, I had an extremely attentive nurse. She was very sweet and soft spoken. She tenderly took care of me. I didn’t know this, but occasionally as she was tending, she would quietly go to the corner and weep. With her shoulders shaking, she too was touched by this experience. I don’t know why that meant so much to me when I heard that, but it touched my heart.
Miracle #5 was when Matt and Valerie showed up at the hospital. Kristy and Linda were back at the house tending the kids which allowed me to see my sister and Martin, his brother. Valerie was a welcome relief. We laughed, we chatted, and we cried a bunch! It was so nice to have her there. It was a distraction that I definitely needed. As the hours wore on, Matt needed to be getting back to Kristie so they could go home. Valerie desperately wanted to stay and almost did, when Matt gently reminded her, that her help was more needed at home. As much as we all wanted her to stay, she knew she needed to go. I didn’t know that my labor was still going to last quite a bit longer.
At first, I didn’t want anyone in the room for the delivery and I had told Matt and Valerie as such. As the delivery progressed, I started to feel a lot of pressure. With each contraction I felt as if I had to squeeze to keep the baby in! Next door, I heard a woman who was obviously very close to delivery. I really tried hard to block out the screams, because I knew that she would probably be able to hold her sweet baby soon, and her anguish would be over. For me, I was just trying to hold my dead baby in long enough for the doctor to arrive, only to deliver the biggest heartbreak I think I would ever have to experience. I really tried to block out those screams.
I finally told the nurse that I was really afraid that I was going to deliver this baby without anyone there to help. It’s one thing when it will be a happy reunion, but I could not be alone. Not now. I would need someone to attend to my every need, and the needs of my child. I could not do this alone. She offered to check me. I was complete and the baby’s head was right there. She very quietly and quickly turned off the pitocin the slow down the contractions and then she went right out to check on the progress of the doctor. I heard him from the hallway asking if I could just hold on for a little bit longer. Sure no problem. I was hoping my torture could last a little bit longer. My nurse, Nell, pulled up a chair, right next to Martin, and sat with us. Not talking. She didn’t have to. Her presence there was so reassuring. I knew I was in safe hands. The contractions had slowed down, which led into Miracle #6.
We got a call from Jessica shortly before (?) midnight. She said she had landed and that she was getting a rental car and will be here soon. I thought she wasn’t getting in until 1 am. I couldn’t believe she was going to be here so soon. I didn’t hold my breath that she would make it for the birth, but I knew she was coming. That’s all that I needed. Little did I know that Jessica would walk in MOMENTS before the birth. I had just put my legs up to start pushing. There was a knock on the door. Nell went to the door, said, “You’re the sister.” She let Jessica and in and Jessica came right to my side. There was no time for a hello hug. As I pushed the second time, I knew that this was it. I was going to see my baby. I immediately started to cry and sob as the sweet baby came out of me.
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