Rebecca Phoebe

Long time coming

2012-01-09T20:28:00.000-07:00

Oh this has been a long time coming. How many times have you been on my mind and I desperatly wanted to get these feelings, these words out of me and into this journal in the hopes that you just might get a sense of how I have been feeling.

The short and sweet of it. I miss you. We took family pictures a little while ago. It was perfect. The weather was astounding. The kids looked awesome and behaved even better. The photographer was one of my most favorite people and the location was to die for. I knew it was going to turn out perfectly.

As your Dad and I were looking through the pictures we couldn't help but miss you terribly. We were sitting on a hill surrounded by your siblings. And then it was just the kids. In so many pictures there was a perfect place for you. Do you see it?

I took pictures with just Savannah and me. Just like the ones that I took with Emily at that age. The light shone perfectly on us as the boys had wandered off. Each one caught so much of her personality and I loved the twinkle in our eyes.

Oh how I wish that I could have the same with you! What would have been like to have you squirming in my arms anxiously trying to explore the world around you! Did you know that Savvy's eyes are turning green? They were blue, just like yours, would yours have changed too?

I feel you a lot. Sometimes I think how foolish I am, that it is just my imagination and then I forget that you are here. With all that I am called on to bear, you are one of the elite that are sent to watch over my little flock. I feel you when there is that pure joyful moment when the siblings are laughing and playing. I see you in the corner of my eye as I do my chores in the quiet of the night.

I wish that I could see your face one more time. To know that you are really a person and not a dream that happened nearly 4 years ago. You seem to good to be true and then my heart springs the ache that has become all too familiar. That ache still comes when I hear a newborn cry or when someone comes when they complain of "unnecessary" doctors appointments. How about the times when the movie reel comes back into my mind of the night I held you. That was heaven. I knew that you were gone, but the veil had never been so close.

You know, time really is a healer. I hated to hear that so soon after you passed. I wanted time to move faster because I hated the way I felt. I have learned so much from you and yet we have never spoke. You make me want to be a better person, to be a better example, to share the good news that is mine.

Phoebe, what I am trying to say, is that while you are not here physically with me, I cherish every time my mind flits to you and I feel you fill in that missing whole during our family times. I look forward to our family reunion when we can take that family picture where we are not missing one. I miss you terribly. Hugs and kisses to you.

Love,
mom

My Girls

My side of the story: By Phoebe's oldest brother

2011-08-12T15:39:00.000-06:00

When my tiny baby sister died I was devastated but let me introduce myself. I am Ammon. I was nine when my sister died in April 2008.

It all started when my mom announced we were going to have a baby and are going to keep it a secret. All of us were as excited as children on a new playground. I was desperately wanting a girl because I only had one sister and three brothers. Every time my mom went to the doctors we watched how the baby grew. Slowly days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, and it was time for my mom to have a baby. I was highly anticipating a girl. I wanted to see the baby like a caterpillar wants to be a butterfly. I was finally old enough to understand babies. When my mom called to tell me that she died, I was heartbroken.

I took it hard. I was bawling in my room like there was no tomorrow. Her name was Rebecca Phoebe Michel but we called her Phoebe. To make things worse, I didn’t get to see her in the hospital. The family was devastated because all that hope and anticipation turned into yearning and despair. Luckily we had a friend who worked in the morgue so we set up a day to see her. We all chose something that we wanted to put in her casket. I chose a pink rock that I liked and now it’s Phoebe’s.

When the day finally arrived we all went into this room where she was. I put the rock in her hand. After some of my younger siblings left the room I got to hold her. I was crying the whole time I held her. When we left it was a bittersweet moment. A few days later the funeral was held. I wasn’t even glad I missed a day of school. It was threatening to rain but it didn’t. It was a bleak and gloomy day. I didn’t even know how I was going to handle school.

School was a little easier than expected. The principal let me see the school psychologist so I could get my feelings out without interrupting the class. The only problem was that I was really sensitive. Almost anything set me off. On the day after Phoebe’s funeral, I spent most of the day with him because he was great at making me feel better. He even bought a heat sensed pencil from the school store for me. I ate lunch with him too. When I came home that first day, I saw a build-a-bear in the family room. My mom explained to me that that was phoebe’s bear. I got to sleep with it that night and let me tell you, I loved it. The bear helped me feel comfort and peace. It is amazing what one bear can do. School got easier and the visits got less and less. I still miss her and it was hard, but our family pulled though. This helped our family bond together.

I’m Ammon and I’m 11. I miss my sister and always will.

3rd Anniversary Slideshow

2011-05-11T16:08:00.000-06:00

For some reason, pictures and music speak to me. I would love to go into detail about our 3rd anniversary, but the slideshow is all my heart can handle right now. I hope to write down soon the stirrings I have in my heart. For now, here is my gift to my sweet daughter. I love you!!!

Coincidence?

2011-04-03T19:53:00.000-06:00

Is it a coincidence that I found myself painting in what would have been Phoebe's room on the same day that I ended up seeing Princess on Ice? The last time I went there or painted her room was with Emily and Phoebe still in utero. For some reason I don't have too many pictures of me pregnant with Phoebe. I look at those pictures over and over again remembering what it was like to have Phoebe connected to me with an earthly presence. I remember trying to make room with both girls on my lap because I had a sleepy little Emily.

Three years are coming up soon. Time doesn't seem relative to the experience I had with my earthly little angel. I don't have much of a memory as my children can attest to, but I have such concrete memories of meeting my silent little lady.

I remember what it was like seeing her for the first time. Not knowing if she was a boy or a girl, but knowing deep down inside that I was carrying a daughter of God. I remember bringing her right into my chest willing some magic power to breathe life into her again. I have in my mind how painful it was to have her little body rising up and down with mine with every shallow breath that I took, thinking that there was still life within her. Hoping, believing that just maybe she would open her eyes. Just once.

There are so many things that I wish I could have had just once. A look, a cry, a smile, a laugh, a hug, a first prayer, a first step, a first accomplishment. How about the first day of school or a play date or dress up with sister or a bike ride with her brothers.

Bottom line. I was not ready to let my one experience to be to hold her for a few hours and then say goodbye. I remember staying up very late the night before the funeral, thinking of how crazy it was that I was not going to be getting more rest before a highly emotionally charged day. My whole perspective changed as I realized that there would never be a wedding or graduation. There would never again be a reason to stay up till all hours of the night to get something ready for Rebecca Phoebe. This was my one chance and I wasn't going to take a moment of it for granted.

As I continue to reflect on the experience that it was to say an early goodbye and bury my daughter I have a taste of what it must have been like for Eve to not be able to comprehend an opposite until you taste of fruit that thrusts you out of the garden and into the pain of life. I have tasted the bitter fruit of death and the sweet taste of new life. I am beginning to see already.

Say hello

2011-02-24T11:40:00.000-07:00

Phoebe,

Will you do a favor for me? Will you wrap your arms around Loreen Hoffman and say "Hello and a goodbye for now" from me?

I find myself with deep seeds of grief and sorrow for the Hoffman family as they grieve the loss of their mother and wife. I remember how it feels to go to bed alone at night aching to hold you. I remember the shock and that took an unmeasurable amount of time to realize that we were not to be together again for some time.

I have gone back to the sleepless nights because my mind keeps racing of the way things were and how they have been forever changed.

Phoebe, it hurts! It hurts to lose someone you love. Why can't I supersede this natural body and mind to know what it feels like where you are. To know more of the eternal scheme and not be limited to this mortality. I desire more than anything to know of the mysteries of God. To behold His face in this life. Not necessarily His physical face, but to know and understand that the infinite Being and Creator knows intimately what it feels like to be confined to a physical body with desires to know what is just beyond the veil.

I get glimpses. I touch heaven sometimes briefly with maybe a fingertip worth of understanding. It feels so right to know things of the spirit. When I allow myself to be still and know that He is God. I know that the Hoffman's are being blessed with all things temporal. They are being blessed with help from those on your side. Why then does my heart ache and my tears continue to come? Why when I know of the great plan of salvation to know that we can be together again?

So as I work through these emotions I ask that you don't leave my side. That you will help with whatever is necessary to carry the Hoffman's. Maybe we can work as a team. I will keep trying to be worthy of the revelation that I seek. It may not come in the form that I expect, but I have never been left comfortless.

Thank you for being my ambassador on the other side. I miss you. I love you.

Forever yours,
Mom

Sparkling

2011-01-25T15:27:00.000-07:00

Since Phoebe's sister has arrived I feel a heavenly connection that is hard to describe. I have tried several times to sit and write another post on this blog. All times, I have been unsuccessful to put what was in my heart to the page. Here is attempt #445. (not really, but seems like it!)

There have been sweet moments that have happened in the time that I haven't blogged like this one (I started to write it in November of 2010)

I have had many "Mary" moments where I did as she, "kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart." I have pondered your place in our family. Why you came in the order that you did. I have some peace as things have unfolded, things that I could not have foreseen.

My mother's day present a month after we lost Phoebe. I wanted something that I could always have with me as a token of my daughter.

Were you there when Savannah saw my ring for the first time? She touched it. She looked at it. It was as if she knew. It made me miss you intensely. She has since watched the sparkles that the diamonds play upon her skin when I hold her. The light that reflects onto her body makes me feel like you are near. That you are happy for this moment that I have shared with your sister. Every time I see that sparkle from the ring that symbolizes you, I ache for what could have been and yet look forward to our future reunification.

There have also been moments that have not been as sweet, more of a bittersweet feeling for me.

I was shutting the curtains one night in your brother's room when my eyes fell upon one of your pictures that was lying at an angle that I have never seen. I wasn't intending on studying it. I have passed by it several times. Always noticing, but too hard to study. Too hard to be reminded of those brief moments I had with you.

I looked at the way your hair was wavy, perfectly placed after your only bath. I looked at your nose, which had been decided belonged to your Aunt Julie. I looked at your chubby cheeks. Your small body.

I sat down where I was as if I had never seen you before. I felt an intense desire to pull out your scrapbooks that I had made that I only so often pull out any more. I caressed each page. I relived the small moments.

I was only able to get through most of the first book before your siblings were needing my help. When they noticed what I was doing, they sat down right by me and took over the flipping of the pages.

I miss you. I ache for you. I can't wait to hold you again. I love you.

To: Phoebe From: Your big brother

2010-12-12T21:22:00.000-07:00

I miss you. You were going to be so big. I wish you could be here.

The Chair

2010-08-12T23:10:00.000-06:00

I had a unique experience, one that I never thought would be recreated. My son's friend had a beautiful, quiet, strong mother who died of cancer. She wasn't very old and left three small sons. My heart ached as I watched the youngest one bury his head into his father's neck as he walked in the funeral procession into the chapel. Tears instantly sprang into my eyes as I looked into what his future might behold.

I had Savannah with me along with my son. It was hard enough going to the funeral, but I had been to this place before. I had my own bittersweet tears here. I had come back for the first time to the place where I got to hold my precious baby again.

Savannah was hungry and I knew I needed to find a place to feed her. Did I dare go back to that sacred room where I held my sweet baby for the last time, with my arms now full with a warm, breathing baby?

I took courage and went to the office determined not to cry (ahem, I know I was a little delusional). Tears came anyway, as I explained my situation. "May I please sit in the room where I once held my daughter. Would you mind?"

"Which room was it?" the man asked.

"I would recognize it by sight," was my reply.

I walked down the hall, immediately recognizing the room. All the furniture was the same. All the details didn't seem any different, and yet there was something different. A certain glow was missing from the room. The anticipation of seeing my baby again wasn't there. The feeling that I had just entered a sacred, heavenly place was no longer there. It was just a room.

A weird mixture of emotion welled up inside as I struggled to keep Savannah happy enough just so I could breathe in the room again.

And then I saw the chair. The chair where I once held my baby, with a smile on my lips. With a constant desire to want to warm up her frozen skin. In that chair, I cradled, I whispered, I rocked, I cried.

I then sat in the chair with my hungry, needy baby and I cradled, I whispered, I rocked, and I cried.

Lessons

2010-06-16T13:14:00.000-06:00

This past Sunday I showed the kids the video I made. Bottom line. Every single one misses their sister. Each one take it differently.

I watched my son's expression as he saw a picture of himself. I saw the pain on his face. I followed the tears down his face. My gazed then went to our oldest. Our stoic one. One who likes to keep intense emotion to himself. He too was crying very painful tears. Our third was no different from his older brothers. My poor little one. His heart is still so tender for his sister he never got to hold.

And then there are my younger two. The innocence is still so strong for them. The three-year-old asked why everyone was crying. Then asked who was in the pictures. "Savannah?" he asked. When I mentioned Phoebe's name, he immediatly understood.

After the slide show was over, my daughter was confused. She asked, "Aren't we going to see Phoebe again? Isn't she going to come back to life?" Her confusion was there because she knows that when Christ comes back to this earth, we will once again be reunited. Never to be separated. She's happy, because she knows the good news. The good news that if we live to the best of our ability in word and deed, we have been promised, forever.

After the video of Phoebe, I showed them one I got of Savannah talking. They were like proud parents. I loved to see the smile and laugh through the tears they once had for their other sister. They each gave me a hug and went on their way.

My children continue to teach me very valuable lessons. It's okay to mourn. And it's okay to be comforted. It's okay to miss her, but we will see her again. It's okay to need a hug every once in a while and then go off and play. I love all of my children, Phoebe, you included.

2nd Anniversary Slide Show

2010-06-12T00:56:00.002-06:00

I know we are a little past her anniversary, but better late than never. Please pause the music on the right. Also, if you double click on the video, it will take you to YouTube. For some reason, you cannot see the entire picture.

Still Processing....

2010-04-30T12:26:00.000-06:00

We had a beautiful afternoon. The skies parted for the brief time we were there. I will write about it when I have the strength. For now, here's a few pics....

Tonight

2010-04-24T23:10:00.000-06:00

Tonight, I was folding loads and loads of laundry.

Tonight, you were so active in my tummy that you made it so your dad and I were very aware that you were there.

Tonight, I knew that I was in labor.

Tonight, I knew that I would see you the next day.

Tonight, I told your dad to kiss my tummy because you were so busy.

Tonight, he did just that.

Tonight, it was very hard to fall asleep. I finally did.

Tonight was my last night with your soul with mine.

Sleep well, my sweet.

Not sure what to say (caution: might be hard to read)

2010-04-19T23:28:00.000-06:00

I'm not sure what to say. My heart is tender. My heart aches. My heart yearns. There is nothing magical that comes to my mind on what I should write about, other than the fact that I miss my daughter. I miss her companionship.

Sunday will be two years. It seems like yesterday I was in labor with her with that excitement built up inside me with anticipation. Then the news that she was gone. I still remember how cold she was to hold. I still feel on my arm where here head rested. I hated how cold she was. It made me angry. But now I am grateful. It is almost like she has imprinted there, never to be forgotten.

Two years later, I am no longer the same person I was before she left. I hope that it is change for the better, sometimes its hard to tell. At first, I felt stripped of all happiness. Any sense of security I felt was stripped from me. I could no longer function as a mother, wife, sister, friend. I was brought to the dust, but I knew I had to rise again for the sake of those I still had to care for.

It was so hard.

Time has healed a lot. I remember wanting to go from the point I was at, point A, and wanting to skip to point Z. I wanted to say "no thank you" to all of the grief in between. But I knew that wasn't possible so I kept putting one foot in front of the other. I have made it this far, so I guess that's a good sign that I can continue.

For once I don't want to be the "strong one". Why can't I be held and rocked and comforted? I thought the trial of my life would be Phoebe's passing, but rains keep falling. If I get too ahead of myself, I start to panic. This mountain I am called to climb is too steep if I look all the way to the unseen summit. So I will do like I have done before.

Trust.

Love.

Wait.

And Trust some more.

One step enough for me.

Reflection

2010-04-11T14:24:00.002-06:00

Savannah on top, Phoebe below

I have always had a hard time seeing who my new little ones looked like. Some would say that Savannah looks like my oldest, others would say Savannah has her own look.

I was looking at her one night when she was fast asleep wondering who she resembles. And then it came to me. I had been looking for an earthly resemblance forgetting, if possible, that she had another sibling. As soon as I cleared my eyes, I saw her. I saw Phoebe in Savannah's reflection.

It is a bittersweet thing to see Phoebe in her. In a great way, it is a blessing because I can get a sneak peek of what Phoebe will look like when I get to raise her in the next life. In another way, it makes my heart ache with the reminder that she isn't here.

I truly feel like Savannah, Phoebe, and Emily are all really good friends. I love to see Savvy look at Emily with eyes that can see heavenly things with the expression of: I love you! I missed you! Phoebe sends her love. I feel it. I can see it. And I ache to see the three together.

We are coming up on two years. Two years of many ups and downs since. I find myself again, like last year, not really wanting to think about the upcoming anniversary. I am grateful that my physical arms are not empty. That I can nurture another little spirit. I am grateful that I have been blessed with children. I am grateful for the reflection I see in Savannah's face. One of peace, love, contentment, and joy. I am grateful I still get to see my Phoebe on a daily basis. Even if it is by the means of a precious sister.

Sisters

2010-03-08T11:38:00.000-07:00

I remember holding Phoebe, willing her eyes to open just one time. I want to hear just one cry. I wanted to see her take just one breath. I remember how it was painful to look down and see her body rise and fall with every breath that I made, thinking that maybe it was her lungs that were being filled with air, not mine.

What would she be like if her spirit filled her earthly body? If what I felt in that birthing room was any indication of who Rebecca Phoebe is, one word. Majestic. I knew then, as I know now, it was a privilege to give her her earthly body.

I also new that we were to have another baby. The thought of going through this entire process again filled me dread. Could I have enough faith to trust that I would be able to have another baby to have and hold in this life? How would I feel about Phoebe if I did have another baby? Was I trying to "fill the hole"?

Savannah Carroll was born perfect. Perfectly healthy. I heard her cry. I saw her eyes. I saw her breathe. I felt like my heart was going to burst again. But this time, it was for joy. I would look at her, and I knew Savannah had just had a heavenly goodbye from a sister that loves us all dearly. The love in that room was tangible.

I have three beautiful girls now. The more I go through life, I realize what a blessing it is to have our own angel on the other side to watch, love, and protect her siblings as they go through this life.

Welcome Savannah, and thank you Phoebe.

I miss you

2009-12-31T16:45:00.000-07:00

Christmas Day. Covered with snow. Deeply buried in my heart.

Movement

2009-12-12T22:57:00.000-07:00

Tonight I felt Phoebe's sister move inside of me. My heart did another leap as I realized the hope for what is to come. I had a little "scare" this morning as I awoke. I settled the kids who woke before the sun, and crawled back into bed for a few more minutes of rest. I realized I hadn't felt the baby. My thoughts turned immediatetly to several different flashbacks of memories that are sometimes to painful to remember.

I instantly turned my thoughts heavenward and pleaded to feel her move. I told myself over and over to remain calm. I was lying on my left side, so I cradled my hand at the base and waited. And prayed. And waited. Within a minute or so, I felt a little tickle, almost as if she was holding my hand on the other side. She tickled a little more, and then gave a nice wallop, probably a foot, on the opposite end. Movement is everything.

Another plea answered.

There has been a lot of pleading going on in our home to our Father above lately. Sweet 3, 5, 6, 8, and 10 year old prayers, each in their own way, beseeching for those things that weigh heavy on their sweet little hearts.

As they plead to the Father of their spirits, I am witnessing a movement in their faith. As they realize that every prayer they make, Heavenly Father has answered. Oh, to have the faith like theirs. I want to have the "faith like the galaxy" as one of my sons put it the other day when they pray with all their hearts, you know why? Because those prayers of theirs was answered.

Movement for me is more than a physical reminder that this life inside of me is hope for things to come, it is the realization that we are either moving towards something or away. I feel the movement of things in our life that is pushing us to new growth. A time that will ultimately make our family stronger to withstand the winds that blow and the storms that will pound upon us. A trust that all will work out for our good.

As I lay watching my round, moving stomach tonight, I am thankful for the reminder. Life is precious. Don't take it for granted. And trust the process.

Partners?

2009-12-05T09:48:00.000-07:00

My pregnancy with Phoebe didn't seem all that different than the one before. Early contractions started around 27 weeks, a couple of weeks sooner than the others had started, but other than that, everything seemed okay. I was determined to be the super woman mom and wife despite the setback of contractions. I did not want to make any "walks of shame" away from the hospital when they send you home saying "drink more, and get rest".... I still exercised and even hosted Thanksgiving with over 20 people.

I made a walk, not necessarily a walk of shame, but a walk in complete bewilderment. Could I have done anything different to have changed the outcome? Could I have slowed down or come in to the doctor more? I have had enough witnesses to let me know that she was not mine to have in this life.

And yet here I am, 27 weeks pregnant with her sister, and have already been to the hospital once. Contractions started at 25 weeks this time. This was my greatest fear when thinking about having another little one. Are these little girls partners in trying to make me stronger? Stronger in faith that there is a Father in control? Stronger in the resolve to do all I can to hold a breathing baby again?

Are they partners in heaven constantly watching over our struggling family, planning on how one will be helping on the other side of the veil while the other helps on the other? Heaven knows I need all the help I can get!

One step at a time....

The Impossible

2009-11-01T08:06:00.001-07:00

I was thinking this morning about the last time I would ever hold my daughter in this life. I was alone in a room, where in earthly standards would probably be labeled as "creepy". But the first time I went into this room that had a little bassinet, a flower behind her, there was such an amazing spirit in that room. Never mind that we were in the mortuary.

As I held her surrounded by my sisters and took pictures that would bring so much comfort later, I marveled at the blessing it was to see and hold her again. As the day progressed, my children came, we took family pictures, held each other and cried, and then my husband requested to hold her alone. The thought had never crossed my mind. He had his tender moments, and then it was my turn.

As I marveled, cried, ached, and missed the daughter that was still in my arms. I was facing the impossible again. I needed to say goodbye. I had already in the hospital, and now I needed to do it again.

I wanted to drink it all in, I wanted to memorize every inch of her face so that I could always remember the perfectness of her features. I knew there wasn't enough Time.

It was time to say goodbye, never to have and to hold her again in this life. What is it about the impossible that makes you either rise up to the challenge or crumple under pressure? I carefully, tenderly put my daughter back in the bassinet. Her limp body that would soon be covered, never to be tenderly held by her parents for years to come.

And I walked away. The impossible was conquered again.

Time has passed. Eighteen months in fact. Last Sunday when I went to church, I thought about the overjoyed feelings I would have felt as Phoebe would finally be able to go to nursery. I would be that elated parent that no longer had to roam the halls, and would finally be able to fill her cup with some gospel instruction uninterrupted by a squirming, bored, yet adorable toddler.

Right now in my life, the winds of trial and the storms of tribulation are again beating on my family. Time very literally has gone away into some limbo land. It is no longer relative. We are facing the impossible and it is very hard.

Will I rise or will I crumple. It seems more a statement than a question for me. I have a choice whether I continue to cling to the rod, or whether I let the mists of darkness discouraged me so much that I let go. It's interesting that time is sometimes referred to as "Father Time". I have a Father who knows beginning to end. He knows how this plays out. Do I trust that I will rise to conquer the impossible again? That is my hope.

I am staring "impossible" in the face again, and I will prevail.

A boy

2009-10-21T08:31:00.000-06:00

Once there was this boy who swept me off my feet, snatched me up and married me, his, forever. This boy and I had a boy together, and then another boy, and then another, until we finally received a sweet and sassy little girl. Then we got another boy. Because five was enough at the time, we wanted a little break between this one and the last. But there were other plans. We got surprised by a Girl. We got even more surprised by losing the girl.

Well yesterday we had our ultrasound to find out what the next will be. I am not a betting woman, but I would have bet money that this would be a Boy. Is it because they come in force to my family already? Is it because having another breathing little girl in my arms was too much to imagine again? Maybe its because I know how precious daughters are and I needed to take extra special care of the one I was already blessed with. I don't know. All I do know is, it was not a boy at all. We are going to have another chance to have a little girl.

The boy that swept me off my feet sat right next to my side as we watched in amazement the life on the screen. He held my hand so tightly as we wept together at the prospect of being blessed to have another little girl in our arms. I am so grateful for this boy that has been with me through every step of the journey.

Boy or girl, each are special, and I am blessed to have both.

A day in the life...

2009-10-01T10:23:00.002-06:00

I haven't updated in a while, partly because I have been so crazy busy that life hasn't allowed it. As I reflect over the last month or so, I have thought about all of those times when angels must have attended. When the youngest needed a friend because siblings were at school and mom needed to get stuff done, and then helped my children from making impulsive dangerous decisions when mom and dad aren't around to advise.

But what about the angels that have ministered to me? I have a brother, and we've never met. He seems to speak to my spirit, things that I would never be able to formulate into words, and yet he speaks words that sing from my soul. His name is Jeffrey Holland. And the best part? He is an Apostle of the Lord. He said this about angels:

"Usually such beings are not seen. Sometimes they are. But seen or unseen they are always near. Sometimes their assignments are very grand and have significance for the whole world. Sometimes the messages are more private. Occasionally the angelic purpose is to warn. But most often it is to comfort, to provide some form of merciful attention, guidance in difficult times."

It's hard sometimes to think that I am worth the attention of heavenly help, and then I think of all that is required of me. Why wouldn't I need that help? I can't do it on my own. I like to think that I have a personal angel. It sounds cliche, especially when you hear all the time "Well, she's an angel in heaven", and then you break it down. She is. And she is mine. I have felt that merciful attention. I have felt that comfort.

And then, Elder Holland goes on to say something more that makes my chest get tight when I think about the angels that have ministered in the flesh.

"I have spoken here of heavenly help, of angels dispatched to bless us in time of need. But when we speak of those who are instruments in the hand of God, we are reminded that not all angels are from the other side of the veil. Some of them we walk with and talk with—here, now, every day. Some of them reside in our own neighborhoods."

What is it when you get a knowing glance or a squeeze on the shoulder that makes all your defenses go down? When someone actually cares to not accept an, "I'm fine" but really makes sure that everything really is "fine". To number the earthly angels that have come to my aid would be near impossible. I can't help but feel loved.

The last quote:

“I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, … my Spirit shall be in your [heart], and mine angels round about you, to bear you up.”D&C 84:88 In the process of praying for those angels to attend us, may we all try to be a little more angelic ourselves—with a kind word, a strong arm, a declaration of faith and “the covenant wherewith [we] have covenanted.”

I declare to you that God is a God of miracles. The miracle was not in bringing my daughter back to life. The miracle lies in how much love he has for me to put people in my path that change my life for good. Rebecca Phoebe was one of those people for me. Apostles, family, friends, and strangers alike have lifted me and provided miracles in my life.

I know that Sacrifice brings forth the blessings of heaven. And I have a gorgeous blessing just on the other side.

p.s. If you would like to read the article in it's entirety, you can find it here: The Ministry of Angels

Companionship

2009-08-18T19:42:00.003-06:00

Today was a bittersweet day for me. Today I dropped off our "youngest" off at his first day of preschool. I drove away feeling like a giddy teenager who has the car and has been given free range for a couple of hours. I put in my music, with no movie playing in the background and I made my way to the store. To shop. With no children. It promised to be relaxing.

This morning I thought of Phoebe. Not in a teary way, but in a contemplative way. As I listened to a song that will forever remind me of my daughter and my relationship to her, I felt her! I smiled and sang the song at the top of my lungs, you see, because I was alone. Now I realize, it may have been a duet.

As I got closer to the store, my emotions came more to the surface. You see, I shouldn't be alone on my precious Tues and Thurs. I should have a strapping toddler in the carseat, and Phoebe and I should have taken WalMart by storm today. Instead, I felt a glimpse of my daughter, my friend, and longed for what could have been.

But I did as I have done every time in the past, when I have to accept what happened, square my shoulders and move on, I wiped the tears away, and I went in. (shopping by myself was great, by the way... :) )

As I look back on the unexpected outburst of emotion, the feeling of companionship from my daughter, and the blessing of being by myself, I realize, I was never alone.

I had me... I had Phoebe... and I had the life within me....

Phoebe is going to be a big sister.

What are we do to?

2009-08-11T13:56:00.002-06:00

Well Pheobe, remember when I was pregnant with you and I knew that you weren't the last one to come to our family? I remember feeling a little scared that maybe what had been asked of me was too much. How could I handle more than 6 kids. This was going to be a stretch as it was.

Well, as it turns out, I needed to have that thought planted in my head. When we no longer had you to take care of in this life, the thought of having our arms full again with another sweet, breathing child was too much to bear. We didn't talk about it. And yet, in the back of my mind, I knew, there was to be another.

It was hard, knowing that we needed to go through this process again, but this time with completely different glasses on. The next time, every small step would be a miracle. Even the thought of becoming pregnant would require a huge amount of faith on our part.

Again, Heavenly Father in His wisdom knew that it would be too much for us to bear trying to figure out the timing on our own. In the way that only He knew that would be best for us, we made the decision. It was time to try again.

Is Heavenly Father building a Heavenly Army?

2009-07-13T10:55:00.002-06:00

Okay... so the grief continues... my dearest friend lost the closet thing to an earthly daughter last week. When she called, I was in the middle of changing a messy diaper and children who were hen pecking me. After I got that all settled I could hear in her voice that something was immediately wrong. I asked and she broke down crying. She never cries if she can help it.

She explained that her goddaughter had been riding in her daddy's big rig truck playing on the bed when they came up over a big hill where a big gust of wind flipped the truck. They found her under the truck.

Leann Emily was a sweet, beautiful, vibrant young lady of six. My friend describes her beautifully on her blog here.

Why do those around me need to experience the same heart-wrenching thing that I had to go through? Do we need more heavenly help on the other side of those who have had earthly bodies to fight the unseen fight? Are my Phoebe, Katherine, and Leann protecting those that I love the most that still have to sojourn here?

My love, my prayers, and my thoughts go to my friend and her family as the struggle with the sudden stillness of their home and lives. I only wish that the Comforter will be their best friend as they navigate through the murky waters of grief and tender mercies.

I love you DeeDee!

Each Life That Touches Ours For Good

2009-06-19T21:09:00.002-06:00

A friend of mine experienced something yesterday that I would never have wished upon my worst enemy. Her sweet baby of 5 months passed away while taking a nap. There are no known causes.

When I heard the news my heart immediately broke into a million pieces all over again. My chest heaved as I listened to the same Relief Society president who had carried me through my own loss, tell me of a dear sister's in our ward tragic story.

My immediate instinct was that I needed to be at her home and I needed to be there then. I got a babysitter for my children in my very messy house and left right away. As I pulled up to her home I recognized the cars parked out front and went inside.

The rest of the day I spent at the mommy's side talking, crying, and I must admit, angry most of the time. I was angry that this had to happen AGAIN to someone else. I was angry at the road that this sweet, righteous family had ahead of them. I wanted to take it from them so that they would not have to experience all the heart wrenching sorrow that I still have to go through.

And yet, that is not the plan is it? Would I trade all the knowledge that I now have because of my little angel? No.

Oh sweet Phoebe. What a blessing you have been in my life and yet I have never heard you laugh. I have never seen you smile, or even take a breath. You know you would be walking by now. You would have joined Emily and I today as we had our "girl party" while the boys are at Father and Son's camp out. I bet you would have giggled as I gave you a balloon from the restaurant we went to. But, you get balloons all the time, don't you?! I wonder how long this pink balloon we have in our house right now will last before Emily sends it up to you to play with.

From your life that has touched mine, do you know how many women I have been able to talk with? Would I have been able to receive promptings at 8:30 tonight to call this noble woman to tell her that she CAN do all that is required of her? I know, because I had no choice and neither does she.

But what we DO have is a Father in Heaven who weeps with us both as we mourn the loss of our precious daughters. I know without a doubt that Heavenly Father is VERY mindful of every need of that family. I know that he desires everything in his power to give every comfort, peace, and blessing he can. What an amazing ward family (our church congregation) we have. This dear lady had several women gathered around her all day yesterday. Our very astute bishop said from the beginning that this family should not be left alone. And she wasn't.

How grateful I am again, for the knowledge that we will see our girls again.

Please keep this family in your prayers. The need all they can.

A year later....

2009-05-28T13:19:00.006-06:00

It has taken me a month to be able to write about Phoebe's anniversary. I must say that it was harder leading up to the anniversary than it was on the actual day.

The weather was a cold overcast and the day was promising to be busy. We got dressed in our family picture outfits and went to pick up the balloons for our 2nd annual balloon release. I couldn't help but appreciate the kids enthusiasm as we got the balloons and the breakfast to eat "with Phoebe".

I was in quiet thought most of the ride over as I contemplated life a year ago. My heart ached as I relived in my mind the shock and distress again. My heart lifted as I remembered the love and support.

When we got to the cemetery I looked for those pink popcorn trees that welcomed us last year. They were gone. My heart fell. I had been looking forward to this welcoming sight every year. Oh well.

As we arrived the kids piled out excited to get a hold of a balloon. Aaron ran around exactly like he did last year. Ammon and Tyler waited patiently. As we got ready, I was amazed at how well all the kids listened. They obediently waited until we said it was time to release the balloons. We only had one casualty. A balloon slipped away from Hyrum's hand who became quite sad. It was a good thing that Dad was prepared with another one.

As we let them go, you couldn't help but have emotion as you watched the white balloons and the solitary pink balloon float away. I am not sure why it is so moving to do that. I love being able to still give something tangible to my daughter. There wasn't a dry eye among the older ones!

While we were there, it was getting colder by the minute. We ate a quick breakfast, took a few more pictures and we were off to the rest of our day. Before we made it to the car, my eyes were caught by the pink blossoms I had looked for at the front. There was a beautiful little tree just beginning to bloom a few feet away from her grave. A tender mercy for my tender heart.

I was carried once again.

One Year Ago today....

2009-04-24T09:23:00.002-06:00

One year ago right at this moment, I was sitting in my car eating a quick breakfast. My husband called and offered to come with me to what was supposed to be a good appointment, telling me that I was in labor and we would soon hold our baby. It didn't exactly turn out as planned. That day, I found out that I would be delivering an angel instead of a baby.

Today, I plan on taking some time, by myself, to open some mementos that I very bitterly packed away. My hope this time, is to open them with a few tears but with a different perspective.

I'll admit, it was with great fear that no one would remember this time. I didn't want to grieve alone. Why do I doubt?

A few days ago, the support began. I have received two loaves of bread, cards, flowers, phone calls, emails, dinner, babysitting, and a sweet thoughtful gift from my sisters. My visiting teacher set up a massage for me today. I feel prayers are being said again on our behalf.

As I have been going through a lot of the same emotions I experienced a year ago, I am brought again to this point of being supported. It amazes me that Heavenly Father loves me enough to not leave me alone in my hour of need. Sometimes I feel as if I need to get through everything on my own and that I would be considered an unprofitable servant if I can't do it all. It is when others step in to help my inadequacies do I realize that it is okay to do the best you can and leave the rest on the table.

I don't think any of this is making any sense.... It is hard to describe the contradicting feelings that I have as I think about my daughter. My heart literally hurts, and it is hard to breathe at times. It is so painful that I have learned to not go there, often. At the same time, I see the wondrous plan of God and His hand in my life as I learn things I could not have learned before.

I have hope that one day, I will truly understand. But today,

I miss her.

A ticking time bomb

2009-04-08T08:59:00.002-06:00

The anniversary is drawing closer and closer. I feel like I have boxed most of my emotions into a nice little package. When I open it, what am I going to have? Will it be a box of grief and strong emotion, or will it be a bittersweet experience that I will get through. One of my favorites songs has this lyric, "I know that time brings change, and change takes time" I remember being so angry that I had to let time pass before I could heal, change. Have I changed? Absolutely. I have I changed for the better? I hope so.

What does my box have in store for me? Only our Father in Heaven knows. Am I scared? Yes. Will you do me a favor? If you can spare a moment, pray that I will again be lifted off my feet, even for a small moment, to be able to rest in His love, and know that I am being watched and cared for.

I look forward to Easter. A time where I realize the magnitude of what Heavenly Father really did sacrifice, and what Christ really did. It makes me realize, am I greater than He? How grateful I am for the plan of happiness, even as I travel through vales of sorrow. I am blessed.

11 months

2009-03-24T13:21:00.003-06:00

Today marks 11 months ago that I found out my life would be changed forever. All day I have "walked" in my mind where I was 11 months ago. As I re-read her blog today, I realized I never explained how we came up with Rebecca Phoebe for her name.

As we went in to deliver the baby, we still did not know whether it was a girl or a boy. I found it interesting as I was re-reading what I had written, I came to the part about all the decisions we needed to make. One of it was what we were going to name the baby. I began to think why we didn't feel like the name we had chosen if it was a girl, wasn't the right one. Looking back on it, I didn't even consider changing the boy name that we had. We only knew that we needed to come up with another girl name. I had rolled around Rebecca in my head and Phoebe as well, but never came up with the two together. I remember that it was Martin that put the two together. Neither of us had really brainstormed out loud that day to figure out the name. As soon as Martin said it, I knew. She was to be called, Rebecca Phoebe.

After we decided on her name and delivered her, we always spoke of her as Rebecca Phoebe. Then when we went home, and we finally had our little family surrounding us, we had to explain what happened. Martin had a lot more emotional energy than I, so he took over the talking to the children. As he was talking, he naturally began speaking of her as Phoebe. My eyes caught Jessica's. She nodded as if she had just caught on. From that moment on, we generally refer to her as Phoebe. Sometimes Aaron just likes to say her first name. He gets this sweet look on his face and says, "Mom, I am thinking about Rebecca." It kinds of catches me off-guard, but I can understand where he is coming from.

How interesting, isn't it, that the Spirit, unbeknown to us at the time, was whispering that we needed to come up with a girl name. Inspiration struck, and now we have the perfect name, for our perfect daughter.

Today, I just miss her. My heart aches as I go through this process, but again, realize how far I have come. This too shall pass, and at last, I will see, hold, smell, and love my sweet baby again. I just have to be patient...

In the air....

2009-03-12T16:20:00.008-06:00

Has it really been almost two months since I have written? How can I recall the uprising of peace or the plunging of grief over the past few months? As I see the buds on the trees amid the warm and cold days, I seem to find myself pulled to this same time of year last year. The anticipation of a little one to come. The challenge of parenting six sweet children. The joy to hold another sweet child fresh from a home where there was no harm or hurt. A place where peace prevails and where you can be held tenderly by those hands that created you. How I grew accustomed to being called mother by my five children and how I looked forward to hearing it once again by a sweet voice that I had a part in creating.

Recently, I have felt especially close to the Spirit, and to Heavenly things. But you know, it's interesting. As I seem closer to heaven, my heart yearns for my daughter who is now in that Heaven. I desire to have and to hold her again. Those few moments were precious and too brief. I find myself on a crusade to learn all I can, to be worthy of feeling heaven often.

I won't lie, I often find myself lately having tears spring to my eyes, my chest heaves as I sob and remember what happened almost a year ago. I cry, the same heart wrenching cries where I feel like my heart is going to burst and that there is no comfort to be had. And then, like before, I am tenderly wrapped up in the mercy of His love, and am reminded, that I am not alone. Does that take away the grief and sorrow? No. Does that mean that I will not continue to grieve my daughter? Never. It just means that I have angels surrounding me, weeping with me. It means that sometimes its okay to not be the strong one all the time. I can become that daughter to Him that holds my daughter now and relinquish my pride to Him that can succor all.

I will see her again. I will hold her again. I will sing to her again. I will see my husband hold her in his arms again, with the look of adoration and love that he once had. I will hear that private lullaby that he sung to her, only this time with a smile instead of heart breaking tears.

This is my quest, and I will not fail.

I found this on a blog from someone who just lost their sweet daughter. For me, these words sum up how I feel. It's to the tune of "I am a Child of God".

I am a child of God and He has called me home.
My earthly journey's through but still, I do not walk alone.
He leads me, guides me, walks beside me, helps me find the way.
He welcomed me with open arms. I live with Him today.

I am a child of God and I have gone ahead.
My earthly life was brief but oh, such peace and love you gave.
You loved me, held me, stood beside me and though I cannot stay.
You gave me much to help me and I live with Him today.

I am a child of God and I will wait for you.
Celestial glory shall be ours, if you can but endure.
I'll lead you, guide you, walk beside you.
Help you find the way.
I'll welcome you with open arms
One bright Celestial day.

--Donna Kulliard

Progress

2009-01-26T16:42:00.002-07:00

These last few months I have been growing up. Almost like Wendy leaving Neverland, I've had to learn how to get back in the real world.

I have learned that it's okay to be happy and that's it's okay to be sad. More importantly, I kept telling myself that I was still grieving deeply, and I have, yet somehow, I wouldn't let myself believe that I really was making progress. That I really was accepting that I had once carried a sweet baby for a time, and now have a heavenly angel instead. I AM making progress.

I wish I could relay to you all that I have learned. I wish I could express in some form how much I have now come to realize how much in control my Father in Heaven is.

I have 90% of Phoebe's scrapbook completed. It is a bittersweet thing to work on for me. I want to finish it so that I can have some closure and yet at the same time, this is all I will ever have to do. As I was going through pictures on my computer, I noticed that some didn't get printed off. It was almost as if I was given another opportunity to have something else to "do" for my daughter. I am really pleased with the way the scrapbook has turned out and have felt very guided as I've made it.

There have been many things that have been instrumental in helping me progress. I have the support of my family and friends. I still have the support of my ward... they are amazing! Since the eve of my daughter's funeral I have been listening to Mindy Gledhill's "The Sum of All Grace" what a HUGE blessing this has been in my life. Many times her lyrics have started me thinking of certain things that I need to either have faith in, to remember, or to even learn more about.

I have an opportunity to meet her. I am so excited! But dinner is done, dad is home, so I will tell you more about it later!

An update

2009-01-11T20:31:00.003-07:00

I guess I kind of let that last post hanging a little bit... Sorry about that! When I visited my family it was crazy but wonderful! I did have plenty of tears but not the kind that I was expecting. What I shared with my sisters when they came to be my angels on earth is not something that I can really explain. A bond has been forged that can never be broken. They were with me every step of the awful horrible way. One helped me say goodbye to my baby's earthly body, another did so many loads of laundry, watched my kids, grieved AND held me up all at the same time! They both filled places in me that couldn't have been filled any other way.

My trip was a great healing, learning, loving trip that filled a lot of anxiety that I didn't know was built up. As I began to relax little by little, I was able to let me grief come and go as often as needed. My sister who wrote the poem to the right had always felt it was a song. For the last few months she composed and wrote the most gorgeous song ever. The only one she has ever written. I don't know how my sister-in-law or my sister even got to the end of the song when they performed it for us, but I do know this. Not only was the Spirit very strong in the room, but I felt my daughter's spirit very strongly as well.

What a blessing it was to reconnect with my family. I wish we had all members there to reconnect but time and circumstances will someday allow that, I'm sure.

Thank you for all of your love and support. I can still feel your prayers and thank you for them!!

Uh-oh

2008-12-17T18:45:00.003-07:00

Uh-oh... I feel like I am building up to another brief (hopefully) meltdown. I have noticed lately that I function fairly well for a while, then it hits me again, I have INTENSE emotion for a while, lots of tears included, and then I push it away and function again. This month her anniversary is on Christmas Eve. It's a bittersweet time for me. I am doing really well at the moment at not thinking about what it would be like to have a little baby and celebrate their very first Christmas. It's hard to imagine how life would be like if I did have another little one. Part of the shock when we first lost her was that we had no time to prepare. I had my whole life wrapped up in what it would be like to have six sweet children and then it was stripped from me. Now that I have tried to adjust to the "new normal", because you have to, sometimes I wonder if I really could have handled six kids so close together.

The reason why I am scared to have another meltdown is because I often like to sit at home, do nothing but listen to my "Phoebe" music, cry, look at pictures and basically become a basketcase. Then I pick myself back up, put on a happy face and face the world. I am scared because I have the awesome opportunity to visit my family for 12 days with lots of cousins and fun included. I just don't want to have a meltdown there! Say a little prayer for me that I can hold on through it.

Sometimes it just stinks!

Things that make you go hmmmm.....

2008-12-03T12:13:00.002-07:00

There are a couple of things that have been rolling around in my mind that I keep telling myself that I will hopefully never forget. Then it occurred to me. Blog it, then I don't have to worry about remembering!

About a week ago, while we were getting ready for dinner, our oldest son asked very sweetly, "When are we going to have another baby? I want another sibling." Thinking that was very sweet, I asked him, "Are you ready to have another sibling?" He replied very matter-of-factly, "I want to beat the world record of 69 children [born to one woman]." Ahh... okay... You gotta love him!

While I was at the dentist the other day, we were waiting in line to check out. There was a woman in front of us that looked pregnant. Emily, was sitting on a chair about 4 feet in front of me and asks me very sweetly, "Mom, what happened to the baby that was in your tummy? When did it come out? Where did it go?" I told her that I would tell her more in a little bit. The following morning as we were cutting out snowflakes together, I remembered her question. I asked her if she remembered what she asked me the day before about the baby that was in my tummy. She said yes, and kind of scrunched up her nose. She like to do that when she is really trying to get a point across, or to understand. I explained to her that the baby that was in my tummy was Phoebe. She furrowed her eyebrows and then they shot up as she realized what I had just told her. She said, "Oh, I never knew that!".

The thing about Emily and Phoebe, is that you just get the sense that they ARE best friends. The fact that Emily has had this connection with her when she didn't even realize that Phoebe was the baby in my tummy and yet she has this huge love for her is apparent.

I can't wait for the day when these two sisters will be reunited again to laugh, play, and pretend together. Angels do in fact still visit the earth. They may still be in the flesh, or they may be just beyond our natural eyes. Either way, I am grateful for my little angels. Seen, or unseen.

For my sweet baby

2008-10-23T00:00:00.000-06:00

Family and Friends,

I can't believe we are coming up to the 6 month anniversary of when I last held my daughter. A lot of water has already gone under the bridge since then. I've had plenty of bad days when I felt like my heart was going to break into a million and one pieces and I've had plenty of good days when I felt my heart nearly burst with gratitude.

As I continue to heal from this unexpected turn in my life, I am continually reminded how much my Father in Heaven cares for me. I have been carried through several things where dear friends picked up the slack, yet I have been put back down on my feet and was expected to take a few steps into the dark just to show that I am still willing to do what I have to do to see my daughter again.

I have learned so much on this whirlwind of a journey and I know I will only learn more. I just hope I stay humble and teachable enough to truly learn what I need to so that I can become who I am supposed to be. Everything I am I owe to my Father in Heaven. The fact that I have 5 sweet beautiful breathing children is a miracle to me. It makes me want to squeeze them a little closer and breathe in the sweetness of their childish smells.

This blog is dedicated to the sweet baby that I held only briefly on a crisp April night. The night that one of the sweetest spirits I have met filled my aching heart to know that I was chosen to be the vessel to bring one of Heaven's choicest spirits to earth to receive an earthly body.

Phoebe has imprinted on countless lives with her short sojourn on this earth. May I stay righteous enough to be able to live with her forever someday is my hope and my prayer. I know this is possible because I have been sealed to her not just for time, but for ALL of eternity. Think of that. Eternity is a long time! This is because my husband and I were sealed in a holy temple in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

I have attached all of my journal entries that I wrote on my other blog. Please share this story with any who may benefit from my small light in the darkness.

The first post is the hardest: Written May 16, 2008

2008-10-22T23:55:00.000-06:00

Where do I begin? Most of you know that our sweet angel came to us on April 25, 2008 at 12:48 am. She was 7 lbs. 6oz and 21 in long. She was perfect in every way. Maybe too perfect. Our Father in Heaven saw fit to take her back to live with Him.

Since that horribly sweet day I continue to go through a variety of emotions. As soon as I feel I am coming to acceptance, it hits me again, as if I didn't really believe it.

One of the things that I witness DAILY are the miracles that I see. Along with all of the heartache and grief, I am reminded every day that I am being carried through this. Heavenly Father seems to know that needs that I don't know to ask for. From a friend stopping by on a REALLY bad day and offers to take all my kids, to another friend who watched our kids so that Martin and I could go on a much needed date.

Rebecca Phoebe continues to touch lives across the country. People that I have never met either send emails through friends/relatives and even gifts. I know that thousands of prayers have been said in our behalf because I feel them. Everyday. Thank you.

The kids have been able to adjust fairly well considering. They have a few breakdowns every once in a while but for the most part understand that they will be able to see Phoebe again. Both Grandmas gave something to the kids that mean a lot to them. Grammie gave a Build-A-Bear Angel that they can snuggle when they miss Phoebe and Grandma crocheted a blanket to wrap the bear and the kids up in. Both continue to serve as a comfort for them.

Every day is a challenge for me. I am still trying to re-adjust to what life is now. For nine months I prepared for 6 kids and the challenges and joys that it would present. At the same time, my arms ached to finally hold my newborn in my arms. I guess I should be patient then, to prepare myself for what life is now. It amazes me how difficult this is. Fortunately, I have an inspired Relief Society President (who just called me to check in on me me as I was typing that, no joke!) who has been helping me so much. I get so frustrated every day that I am not able to function like I used to. I used to be able to handle so much. Now I am reduced to realizing I can hardly handle anything. I hope that someday I will be able to stand on my own two feet again.

I've had to swallow my pride quite a bit, and accept help that has been so willingly been given. I cannot express the intense gratitude I feel for all of those that have helped me this far. My burdens have been made light because of how much has been shouldered for me through my friends and family.

I go to sleep thinking about my sweet baby and I wake up thinking about her. I don't know how long this hole will be in my heart, but I do know that there is one who understands my grief. My Father in Heaven also lost a son in a very cruel manner. He too was powerless to change the outcome. Had Christ not suffered all, all of us would be lost. He could not have broken the bands of death so that I could see my precious daughter again. I know He grieves with me and understands the depths of my soul. How grateful I am that he holds my hand like I held my child's. I am not in this alone.

Thanks to you all for your love and support. We are overwhelmed by the immense outpouring of caring and thoughtful people who continue to watch over us.

We love you.

Chapter 1

2008-10-22T23:54:00.001-06:00

Because so many of you do not know what happened, I have decided to post excerpts from a journal that I have started to write about all of this. These are tender things from my heart. I hope you will be able to find some solace from these words. Some of the things are not the happiest of thoughts so please forgive me. Thanks again for all of the prayers.

As Martin and I thought about our family, we knew that we wanted a 6^th child. We also wouldn’t have minded a little break between Hyrum and the next one. One night as I was complaining of some pretty major mood swings, Martin mentioned that I might be pregnant. I was waking up a little bit nauseas, but would explain it away. I was also pretty tired, but I had a lot going on in my life. The following morning I decided to take my last pee stick and show him that he was wrong. Martin was in the shower not knowing what I was doing. I dipped it, waited a few moments before looking at it, and behold, there were two definite lines!! In the past, I am usually pretty in tune with my body and know that I am pregnant even before the tests will show positive. So usually, five tests later, I finally prove that I am pregnant. This time however, Martin had called it and he was right. I immediately start laughing. Martin, not knowing why, asked. Subsiding the giggles, I told him that he was right. Martin and I were both strangely okay with this unexpected news. I had heard of a lot of women that cry when they find out they were pregnant again, especially after having so many. I strangely felt very calm, but also in a bit of a shock.

We held of telling the kids for a little bit. We decided to tell them pretty early on however, because I can get pretty hormonal a.k.a. grumpy, even when I really didn’t want to be. I thought it would only be fair to the kids so they knew that mom still loved them, and that I needed their love in return. We prefaced the conversation over dinner. We asked each kid if they wanted another sibling. They all said yes. We asked if they wanted a girl or a boy. It was a resounding, GIRL!

Throughout the pregnancy I remember some very poignant memories that I usually don’t have. As I was at the doctor’s for the initial visit, the nurse who had cared for me with Hyrum’s pregnancy was actually happy to see me! I had had so many unpleasant experiences before with Dr’s and nurses telling me when I should have or stop having kids that I was expecting the same backlash. I told her that it was a surprise pregnancy but we were happy to have it. She was taking my blood pressure and looked me in the eye and said, “Sometimes the surprises are the biggest blessings.” I was touched by her remark and filed it away in my mind.

Hope, my NP, was equally excited to hear we were pregnant again. She said if anyone could do it, Martin and I could. As the time went on I kept getting comment after comment from medical people and others that I was meant to be pregnant, meaning I look great, or I was handling all the kids and being pregnant so well. I felt good to hear those comments and at the same time was a little frustrated that I was once again going to be pregnant and nursing for another 19 months! I was still nursing Hyrum when I got pregnant and had to wean him because I could not sustain both being pregnant and nursing. I was running and exercising about 2-4 times a week and was excited to not be nursing to drop that weight as well. So when this pregnancy came, I was okay with it, just maybe a little disappointed for selfish reasons. Throughout the pregnancy, I was never upset that I was pregnant, just maybe weary with the whole experience. I am usually the person to say “I love being pregnant.” I still could, but I was just tired.

As life was crowding in, I was still primary president, Martin was going full swing with his real estate, and maintaining a job, my extended family was having issues, I had five sweet active children and I was pregnant with my 6^th. I was weary! I got a few priesthood blessings, and again, poignant things stuck with me. I couldn’t really forget the blessing that blessed me with the patience of Job, and the many people would come to my aid that I would have not expected. Hmmm…to be tried as Job. Not something I really wanted to experience.

When we got our ultrasound, I had already decided that we didn’t want to find out what the sex of the baby was for the first time. I never thought I would have been strong enough, but this time I was. Martin went along with it, because that was what I wanted. When we got the results back, we were told that the baby had a slight abnormality with the baby’s kidney, but it wasn’t that big of a deal, and that the baby would get another ultrasound when the baby was born. I was still worried, because I am a mother, and needed another blessing. I was blessed to know that the kidney would not be an issue.

Well, as I had expected, contractions started early again. They got really bad, this time around 27 weeks. Fortunately, they did not change my cervix so I was somewhat in the clear. Contractions become something that I just dealt with. About five or so times I was borderline going in to the hospital because they were regular and somewhat painful contractions. I never did and tried to stay really in tune with my body and with the spirit, as another blessing had admonished me to do. Because I was concerned with how many I was having and still having the duties of being wife and mother, I asked for another blessing. I was blessed that I would carry to term and that all will be well with the baby, if I continued to take care of myself. Because of that caution, I tried my hardest to stay in tune and to take care of myself. During this pregnancy, I developed hypoglycemia, or low blood sugar. It was very difficult a lot of the times to not feel shaky and that I was eating the right kind of foods. Food was definitely hard for me this pregnancy. I really didn’t have much of an appetite, but would force myself to eat because I knew I needed to.

With the knowledge that we would carry to term, I continued in my resolve to not do a “walk of shame”, that I would go in the hospital when I knew it was time. Whether it was to stop labor if it was too early, or to go in to have the baby. As I got closer and finally past the “scary” point where they would let me go into labor, I really got my house ready! I had already painted Emily’s room a yellow and a hopeful pink that would soon to be a little girl’s room. I painted and redecorated the boy’s bathroom, and was now onto cleaning! The nice thing was, I felt great! There was a point that I felt like I was doing great. I got a lot of work done in small and large bits of time, where eventually I felt I had a handle on my house, but it wasn’t overwhelming to try and stay on top of it.

Martin kept bugging me to pack my bags, and I kept bugging him to set up our new bassinet. He told me he didn’t feel right about setting it up until we had the baby. I agreed because the kids probably would have found it as a new jungle gym anyway. Because we didn’t know what we were having, we had a hard time getting everything put out. I felt totally strangely calm that it was okay that the little girl clothes were in the far corners of the basement, on the bottom of a bunch of containers. Usually, I have a dresser all ready, diapers set-up, everything ready to go. Not this time.

Chapter 2

2008-10-22T23:53:00.006-06:00

On Saturday April 19^th, I had lots of contractions! I even thought that it could have possibly been it! After a bath, and they were still coming, Martin finally put his foot down and had me pack my bags. Feeling that I was getting closer I finally complied and really was starting to get excited that we were getting closer to seeing our new little one. After I packed I was completely exhausted. It being the early morning now, I laid down to get some rest, knowing that if this was the real deal, the contractions would wake me up and we would go in. They somewhat subsided, and the next day, I continued to have them, but they weren’t as strong.

This brings us to Wednesday April 23^rd. I was folding laundry that evening and was having some really nice contractions. Martin seemed to have been a lot more interested in timing them, ever since I passed the magic week. Before that, I think he was too worried to really want to find out.

He plopped down on the couch next to me, and told me to tell him whenever I was having another one. I can’t remember the timing of them, but I knew something was different, and they felt stronger. As we were getting up to put the laundry away, I asked Martin if he wanted to kiss the very active belly. He gave a sweet kiss and then we put the laundry away. I think by now it was about 11 pm. We climbed in bed and tried to go to sleep. I know that Martin was awake for quite a while and would periodically ask from a sleepy state how I was doing. After lying in bed for at least an hour, I decided to take a bath. The contractions continued and I really hoped that this was it.

I got out of the bath and realized that the guest bed needed new sheets and that I should probably get the bed ready for Linda just in case. I figured activity may even help the progression of the labor. As I finished I had two choices. One, I go to bed and see if they wake me up. Or two, we should start the ball rolling. I really wasn’t in the mood for the middle of the night trip to the hospital, AND I felt okay about trying to get a few hours rest. I pretty much knew that I wasn’t going to have the baby instantly and that the labor will probably be a long one anyway. I also had a Dr’s appt the following morning and knew that I could get checked.

From this point on, miracles started to make themselves known. A week before this, my visiting teacher and good friend Jennifer Butler had called to see if I needed anything. I asked her if she could help with this Dr’s appointment with the kids, knowing that Martin would have been helping me with the two other appts we had had for our kids the last two weeks. She said that wouldn’t be a problem. Miracle #1. Ammon and Tyler were at school, Aaron was at preschool, and Jennifer told me to drop Hyrum and Emily off early so that I could have a little time to myself. She also reemphasized that she had no problem hanging on to them if anything should happen at the Dr’s. I really wanted a pedicure before the baby came and contemplated getting one before the appt. I figured I didn’t have enough time before, but maybe after the appt. I figured I should probably get something to eat. I went to McDonald’s got a cheese-less sausage egg McMuffin, and some orange juice and settled in to a very nice quiet mini-van. I put on a morning talk show, and thought about calling Martin. I dismissed the thought for now, and decided to call him when I was done brushing my hair and putting on my make-up. Martin, must have sensed my thoughts and called a moment later. He asked what I was doing and told him. I invited him to come along since I was “kidless”. He agreed so I picked him up. We weren’t planning on having him come. Miracle #2.

As we got to the Dr’s office, on about three hours of sleep for me, and by now, the contractions had gone a little wimpier, I was ready to see if my cervix had changed. I told Dr. Braun as she came into the room, that I had been having some major contractions and that if my cervix hadn’t changed that I would quit. She laughed and said that wasn’t really an option. I felt, that if I hadn’t changed, we were definitely going to have to discuss inducing options because I didn’t see me doing this on my own.

As I laid down on the table to measure and find the heartbeat, I asked her how I was measuring. She said that I was about 34 weeks but that was normal at this stage in the pregnancy. I was 38 weeks. The Sunday before, my belly was HUGE!! And now Martin and I both felt it had gotten a lot smaller.

Next to the heartbeat. She went to the normal place and couldn’t find it. She searched and searched for a while. She told me that I was the third person today that this happened to and that maybe it was the device not working very well. After an uncomfortable while on my back, she decided to go get the ultrasound machine. At this point, Martin got very worried, and I was trying to calm him. I figured that the baby was just hiding and that all was well. I had just felt the baby last night as late as 1 am. As she came in with the machine, we saw that the baby was head down. I saw the familiar shape of the spine and looked right where the heart should be beating. I looked really hard and knew that I was not seeing any movement. She tried several times to try and capture it a different way. Before she said anything I pointed at the screen and said that’s the heart right? She said yes, and I am not seeing any movement. I was still in denial, and at the same time knowing that what she was saying was the truth. My baby had no heartbeat. She decided to pull in another Dr. to make sure that she wasn’t missing anything. I immediately asked for a blessing. I told my Father in Heaven that I had enough faith for my daughter to be raised again. I knew that Martin had enough faith and that through the priesthood, we could have her again. In my blessing, I don’t remember anything, other that I wasn’t told she was going to live. I was told that this would be an experience for me that I can use to bless the lives of many other women. And that I would be blessed. After Martin was finished with my blessing, he placed his hands on my still stomach and prayed silently. I knew for what he prayed. I added my wordless prayer to his and yet I knew in my heart that our baby was to stay with her Father.

Shortly after Martin finished, our last hope came through the door. Maybe something was just being over-looked. As we looked at the still image again, we knew that our baby was gone. Grief over took us as we realized the gravity of what happened. In a quiet hour, in the still of the night, our precious baby, had left this frail existence. Flashbacks came as I relived this intense moment of intense surprise and grief with my miscarriage. And yet this time, through a miracle, I wasn’t alone. I had my eternal husband by my side. Knowing that we would now have to go through the delivery process, and engorgement, and bleeding, and hormones all without the baby we got ready to go get our things.

After I got dressed a nurse pulled us into another room and talked to us. I was already playing the “what if” and “If only I had” game and was wishing I had come in only 8 hours earlier, that maybe we could still have her. The first thing she said, was, “This wasn’t your fault”. I burst to even more tears, and Martin held strongly to my hand. She went through the cycle of grief and that it was okay to feel all of those range of emotions. She said it was important to not hold in the tears and to let the emotions play out. Martin instantly broke down and started sobbing. My sweet husband was trying so hard to be strong. I cradled him and he cradled me. The nurse explained what would happen and that the hospital was already notified and would be waiting for our arrival.

After trying to compose ourselves, we walked out of that clinic no longer looking forward to this big belly, still contacting. We walked out of the clinic in a thick fog of grief. I couldn’t get a hold of any of my siblings. I knew that they needed to be here. I drove Martin back to work to get his car and we drove home separately. I was sobbing and praying that I could drive safely enough to get home.

I was almost home when I finally got a hold of Valerie on the cell phone. I tearfully told her that we had lost the baby; she said okay, I will be right there. I am at Costco, I will get Jon home and I will be on the first flight. I knew she would come.

Chapter 3

2008-10-22T23:53:00.003-06:00

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.

Chapter 5

2008-10-22T23:52:00.006-06:00

Although MANY other events and miracles happened between Friday and Monday, I would like to skip to the day where I had the biggest miracle of all.

Monday April 28^, 2008

I had told our dear friend Alice, who had been taking care of Phoebe for us, that I did not want to see Phoebe again if she was any different than how I saw her in the hospital. I wanted to have a pure memory of her. I thought I had said my goodbyes.

As I was getting funeral arrangements together, Alice called. She said that my mother-in-law and sister-in-law were there and that they had dressed Phoebe in her beautiful dress. She also said that there was something she needed to tell me, because she just wanted to make sure. Alice said that Phoebe had completely “pinked” up and looked like she was a sleeping newborn. She said that it was unusual that she should look so “good” especially since it had been a few days after she died. She just wanted to make sure that we didn’t want to see her again.

I decided to go and visit her one last time. I was nervous, elated, excited, and hopeful as we pulled up to the funeral home. Alice explained a few things and we went into the room where she was. They had sweetly placed her in a bassinet with a flower in a swan vase behind her. I walked into the room and immediately rushed to her side. I scooped her carefully up into my arms and immediately started saying, not realizing it, “sweet baby” all over again. She was absolutely stunning. Again the feelings of anger welled up inside because she was so perfect. I pushed those feelings aside and marveled at this incredible person I was holding.

There was something different from the last time I held her. I don’t know if it was because I had a little bit more time to process what had happened and I was more prepared to hold her or if it was because she was dressed in a celestial gown with a radiant face that brought more peace. All I cared about was that I was holding my baby again and her sweet spirit was there again filling the room with her love.

I realized that it would now be appropriate to let her siblings come and visit her so that we could take a family picture. I called Martin who was with his brother in northern Colorado and told him of the miracle. He came right down and I gathered the children.

The experiences that we shared as a family are very private to me so I won’t go into detail. Suffice it to say that Heavenly Father knew that for this grieving family, we needed to see our daughter/sister again. Being able to hold her and take pictures with her brought more healing than I could ever imagine.

The thing that surprises me the most is how much my Father in Heaven loves me. The theme that has become a part of my daily living is “One step enough” from the song “Lead Kindly Light”. My Father was leading me one step at a time, and that I didn’t have to look too far into the future. He would provide. I have felt his unfailing arms around me. I have felt his pain, as he watches me, His daughter grieve. He still guides me one step at a time.

I will forever be grateful for the miracle that happened on that day. I saw my daughter dressed all in white. I now have a visual of what it will be like in the millennium when, if we prove worthy, will be able to care for our daughter from her infancy in a place where this is no evil.

I testify that I will see my daughter again. I know it and I feel it. I can’t deny it. To say that I understand why this had to happen would be telling a lie. I have okay days now, and I have really bad days still. But, I have never been abandoned. I love my daughter with all of my heart. I miss her with all the capacity that I possess. I will get through this, even though the refiners fire is hot.

To finish the rest of the story please start with the post, "The first post is the hardest" located on the home page. Thanks for reading.

Chapter 4

2008-10-22T23:52:00.002-06:00

It was a girl. A beautiful, quiet baby girl. I just wanted to take her. I wanted to hold her. I saw the resident doctor struggle to hold on to her limp body. I just wanted her. They finally brought her to me. Martin held her first. I just keep saying sweet baby over and over again. She was so sweet! She was so perfect. She was just beautiful. There was NOTHING wrong with her!! Why couldn’t I just keep her and hold her forever. The doctor handed me a washcloth so that I could clean her face if I wanted. I tried. But couldn’t. I wanted to memorize every inch of her face. Every minute detail. I would stare and then I would have to look away. It was too much. Every time I took a breath it would seem as if she was breathing. I just wanted her to open her eyes. I wanted her to cry!! I wanted to take her home with me and say, “Nope, this really didn’t happen. It’s been a cruel joke, and she’s coming home with me.” Then reality would hit, I would look down at the sweet face, again, and marvel at her perfectness. Martin and I would switch off holding her. It was so hard!! I wanted to hold her forever, and at the same time. I couldn’t hold her anymore. It was too painful. When it got to that point, I offered her to Jessica. She very tenderly held my child. As she started to rock her, and say sweet soft things to her, I started to let myself recognize the sweet spirit that had filled the room. The doctors and nurse had already left the room to give us “as much time as we needed”. I watched Jessica rock her back and forth. I heard Jessica telling me what my heart knew, but what my head couldn’t get yet. That she was there. And she was.

Miracle #9 was that my good friend Denise Pearce had recently sung at an infant funeral. There she heard about “Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep” a non-profit organization that finds professional photographers to volunteer and take pictures of infants that died. If this hadn’t have been recommended, I am not sure what I would have done. The photographer that was contacted said that he would come at any time of night. That he would be there no matter what. At 2 am, a sweet man quietly entered the room. He very quietly spoke to Martin and had him fill out the needed paperwork. He calmly set up his camera, and took Rebecca Phoebe to the warming station to take some pictures. He then brought her to us where we couldn’t help but hide our emotions. There was something deep in my heart that knew that these pictures, although very painful to take, were a gift from heaven. He very respectively moved the baby to various places in our arms and on the bed to get some amazing shots. Phoebe was wrapped up in a silky white and purple blanket that I had bought months before. That blanket now is on our bed. It is the only tangible thing that we have that our daughter touched. It is the only thing we have to snuggle. I hold it every night and pray that I could fall asleep a little bit quicker this time. It is our consolation prize.

As he finished, my spirit just wanted to jump out of my grieving body and hug the man that gave such a priceless gift to us. How can you repay someone for that? I will never forget his kindness. I have prayed many times that his family and business will be blessed for the work that he did for me.

As Martin took her back, I had an impression that she was fading. That it was time to let her go. What a horrific experience. This was a step that I was not willing to take. How can you say goodbye to your baby? How? Knowing that she was forever going to be in those pictures was the ONLY thing that even allowed me to let her be taken her out of my sight. I just wanted to breathe her in forever.

Miracle #8 was the impression that she needed to go, and that Jessica confirmed that she had the same feeling. Martin cradled her one last time as Jessica took some pictures. She was then wheeled over to me. I spoke to her. I told her not to leave me, and that I expected her to stay with me and help me. But more importantly that I loved her, and that I would miss her terribly. As they wheeled her away, terrible sobs overtook all of us. I honestly don’t remember much after that. I remember being wheeled into a room in the farthest corner of the floor. The floor that was above the floor where all of the new mommies were with their double beds and sweet infants to hold. I got to look at a box that holds the hat and blanket that once held my baby. I got to have my husband sleep a few feet from me. I got to sleep by myself.