Losing

I don’t like losing.  I never have.  Whenever I play games and I know that I’m about to lose, something comes over me that I can’t explain.  I can feel the control slipping away from me.  Not being able to do something about it is agonizing.  This has of course gotten better as I’ve grown, but that feeling is always there, a little.  When Franco ran away Thursday, I felt this same feeling.  I was calling and calling him, just waiting for him to come running full speed at the sound of my voice.  He always did.  I wasn’t worried at first.  I had just checked on him and he was sitting on the step as he always did.  He was predictable, or so I thought.  Never in a million years did I think he would run away.  From the day we got him, we realized he was scared of Everything, except me.  He loved me.  It was like he knew his purpose was to help me heal, which it was.  Jimmy picked him out and although he hid under the chair for a short time, once I held him we both knew that he was going home with us.  From that day on he chose to be by my side 99% of the time.  And the 1% he didn’t choose me, he could be easily persuaded by a simple command from me.  This is why I didn’t worry when I was calling for him.  But then a few minutes passed and he still didn’t come.  That’s when panic sunk in and terrible thoughts started running through my mind.  I walked around the neighborhood asking everyone and anyone if they’d seen a little Chihuahua.  A boy on a bike said he went towards the school and a lady in a van confirmed it.  I immediately started running that way, calling with desperation in my voice.  The lady in the van asked me if she could drive me and helped me look for over a half hour.  In the meantime my mom was looking too.  I called the police, put it on facebook.  I was desperate.  I eventually asked to be dropped off at my house and started on my bike.  This didn’t make sense to me….he would never do this.  I was trying to think like Franco.  I knew he didn’t like to walk on the grass, so I was checking main roads and bike paths.  This scared me because he was so tiny and the chances of him getting hit by a car were great.  That fear was soon confirmed.  After looking for over an hour, the animal hospital called.  I cried a huge sigh of relief when they said they had Franco, but that was soon followed by a terrified cry when they said he’d been hit by a car.  If you’ve seen Franco, then you know that his little body was no match for anything on 4 wheels.  She said he was stable and I rushed to Rescued Heart Animal Hospital as fast as I could.  When the doctor brought him in, she warned me that his hind end was beat up pretty bad, but I could see his tail.  As soon as he saw me, he started wagging it, as he always did.  But he was on major pain meds and he looked completely worn.  He wouldn’t even lick my hand or face and it broke my heart.  I could see I was losing him, but I couldn’t think like that.  So my mind shifted into mommy mode.  I wrapped my arms around him, kissed his absolutely adorable little face and told him I was so sorry.  I cried imagining the pain his little body was enduring and there wasn’t anything I could do.  I was out of control of the situation and I could hardly bear it.  I told the vet he loved blankets and thanked her for keeping him wrapped up.  I told her that he liked Pupperoni treats and that he wouldn’t eat their food because he was so picky and probably super scared. 
     She asked for permission to do x-rays, which I immediately consented to.  I never dreamed I’d be in this spot, having to make these decisions so soon.  We only had him 4 months.  I told her to do whatever she needed to do to help him.  Dr. Newcomb was so kind and helped calm me a bit.  I was alone and so I just prayed and prayed that God would save my little puppy.  When I walked out of the room, my friend Jodi was there and I was glad.  She was the one who helped get Franco a new home and she was a huge comfort to me while I waited for Jimmy.  As soon as Jimmy got there, the vet came out and said she’d done the x-rays.  I was so thankful she did them so quickly because she said it may be another 2 hours.  She explained that his hind legs weren’t broken, but they may have nerve damage.  Only time would tell.  She said his pelvic bone was definitely broken and cage rest would heal that.  Then she explained that she couldn’t find his bladder, which was a major concern.  Although it didn’t seem anything else was wrong, we simply wouldn’t know for sure until a couple days had passed.  He needed to pee and so that is what we hoped for.  That would mean his bladder was ok.  If not, then they would have to do surgery to see if it was repairable.  And if it wasn’t, then we would have to do the unthinkable.  The vet didn’t even say it.  She could see that I couldn’t think that far ahead.  We went back home to get Franco’s treats and food that he likes.  On our way home, we stopped at the man's house that took Franco to the hospital.  He had found Franco laying in his yard and could tell that he'd been hit by a car.  I didn't realize it until he opened the door that it was the father of one of my former volleyball girls, Kyndi.  He was so kind and was surprised to hear Franco might make it.  He knew how badly he was injured and said that he got him to the hospital in about 15 minutes.  We were SOOOO thankful he did this.  He said Franco was pretty scared, which we assumed he was, and that he bit him when he tried to give him water.  Had John not taken him to the hospital, we probably never would've seen Franco alive again. 
     Dr. Newcomb warned me that he probably wouldn’t eat and she was right.  He just laid there, trying a few times to pull himself towards Jimmy and I.  It was heart wrenching.  He just wanted me to hold him and I couldn’t.  He was starting to look a little more alert, but his breathing was so heavy and his temperature was too low.  We were losing him. 

            We left the vet and I just felt worn out.  It was quite an emotional day and I’d barley eaten.  My mom had made dinner for us and so we stopped there and ate with my brother and the boys.  The doctor said she would call if there were any changes.  I kept checking my phone in hopes she would call to say he went to the bathroom.  She didn’t call.  She said she would go back and check on him at night, but still no call.  Jimmy and I went to bed early, but I was up off and on all night.  I kept dreaming about Franco.  One of my dreams was of him sitting up already and I woke up thinking he would be okay.  I dreamed that the vet called at 2 a.m. to tell me he went to the bathroom and again I thought he was going to make it.  I prayed several things as I lay there awake.  I prayed that if were going to lose him, that we wouldn’t have to make the decision to put him down, but that he would die peacefully in his sleep.  I prayed that God would calm my anxiousness and help me not to worry.  I prayed that Franco wouldn’t be scared or feel the pain. 

            I woke up early that morning.  The vet opened at 7:30 and I planned to go see Franco shortly after that.  Jimmy was getting ready for work when Dr. Newcomb called.  I was slightly excited, hoping for the news that he had gone potty in the night.  However, my heart sunk when she said that he had passed away in his sleep.  She had checked on him at 10:00 the night before and he was stable, but when she came in the morning, he had died.  She said that there was probably more internal damage than we knew and his little body couldn’t handle it.  Deep down, Jimmy and I knew this was most likely going to be the case, but we still couldn’t believe it.  Jimmy called in to work and we both sat there in disbelief, shocked, mad, broken.  Our devotion that morning was on blessings through trials and we both agreed that we’d been blessed enough with trials.  We prayed a simple prayer that morning that God would give us a quick answer because we couldn’t bear the pain of waiting anymore, it was too much.  Our prayer was answered and still we couldn’t believe it.  I looked on the couch where it was stained from Franco licking it and at the dog hair on the pillow.  I cried thinking about how he’ll never come running in the living room again and jump on the couch with me.  I hated the thought of not tucking him in his bed at night or taking him on anymore walks.  My heart just hurt and I could see that Jimmy’s did too.  When I said earlier that Franco was afraid of everything, Jimmy was no exclusion.  It was frustrating for both of us, especially Jimmy at first.  But Franco had made such huge progress.  In the last several weeks he had started coming every time Jimmy called him with his whistle.  He would jump up on the couch with Jimmy too and lick him like crazy.  He preferred to cuddle up with Jimmy instead of me in the morning.  And he would play with Jimmy unlike he would with anyone else.  It was so funny to watch him as he’d run at Jimmy, lick him, paw at him, run in a circle, run away, and then back at Jimmy and nestle in for a scratch. 

            He was getting better with the kids too.  I think he finally realized that being in our family meant being around a lot of kids!  The first few times he nipped at them over and over again, but he learned quickly that they were safe.  He was learning that wherever he was with us that it was safe and he didn’t have to be scared.  I had to leave him with my brother a few times and the last time I left him he ran to my sister-in-law and jumped on her lap.  I was so glad he was finally warming up and I didn’t feel as bad about leaving him.  Other than those few times I left him, he went everywhere with me that allowed dogs.  My father-in-law even consented to letting him in his home, which we were all pretty shocked about.  Everyone loved Franco.  The kids adored him and there wasn’t a stranger that didn’t smile when they saw him.  He was the best dog I have ever known.  He only barked to let us know someone was at the door and he never whined or yapped.  He was so obedient and he was just a super happy little dog.  He made Jimmy and I laugh daily.  We rescued him from the shelter about 4 months ago, and he rescued me from several sad days since then.  I wondered why he had been at the shelter so long, but now I know that he wasn’t meant to be with anyone else.  He was our dog and we loved him more than I could’ve ever imagined.  I thank God that we had him, even if for just a short time. 

            2014 has been a tough year for us.  If we believed in curses, we’d think that 14 was a curse.  It’s the year we lost Lucy and now Franco, each occurrence beginning on the 14^th of the month.  It’s definitely a year we will never forget and we are confident that God will continue to show himself faithful in our lives.  We don’t have a daughter at home and we don’t have our sweet puppy, but we have Christ and that is all we need.  I believe God gives us the things we truly need, the strength we truly need to live this life He’s blessed us with.  But my focus still needs to be on Him.  I don’t always know why but I also can’t see the big picture and I have to trust knowing that I don’t have complete control.  Yesterday was a sad day but I have peace knowing that God will never leave me or forsake me.  Even though our devotion yesterday was a tough pill to swallow, we can’t deny the fact that we are Very blessed.  One of our biggest blessings is our families.  My mom met us at the vet yesterday and took Franco home with her for my dad to bury later at our farm.  My brother and dad had already worked it out the night before.  He is buried next to my brother’s dog Axl.  I just couldn’t bear to do it.  My mom sat in the vet office and cried with us as we said goodbye to Franco, then paid the bill on her way out.  Jimmy’s parents, from Michigan, called to let us know they were coming to be with us and said they’d like to help us when we decided to get a new dog.  Other family members and friends texted, called and sent messages.  We could feel the support and prayers and were comforted knowing they all care so much.  Many cried for and with us.  Sharing the burden with so many others makes it so much more bearable.  We still hurt and that’s okay, it’s going to be like that for a while.  We miss Franco like crazy.  We even had a song that we used to sing him and Jimmy started to sing it yesterday before he remembered he was gone.  The vet gave us a clay paw impression with Franco’s name spelled wrong on it, but we can just include that in the many names we’d given him over the last 4 months.  Franco, Franko, Franklin, Frank, Frankie, Frankenstein, Fronco, Fronc, Frankendoodle, Pup-Pup, Puppy, Frankster, Frank the Tank, Farfel, Fresco, Good Boy:  Thank you for being a part of our family!  If the movie’s right and all dogs do go to heaven, then I’m sure Lucy has a new best friend. :)

One More Week With Lucy

     Disclaimer:  I wrote this mostly for myself.  I don't mind sharing it with others, but I just wanted to warn you that it is lengthy and detailed.  Some are details that are probably only really important to me.  Writing    (especially this story) is hard but very healing.  It forces me to process what's happened and allows me to talk about it more easily when it comes up. 

  One More Week With Lucy

     Something just wasn't quite right.  I told my friend Jacque as I was leaving church Wednesday that I was going to call the doctor the next day.  I was bleeding a little and although this had occurred more than once during the 20 weeks I was pregnant, this felt different.  On my way home I called my sister to tell her as well, hoping for some comfort, which is exactly what she gave me.  She said she'd experienced that before and that hopefully all was well.  By the time I got home though, my worries had gotten the best of me.  I was up most of the night worried that something was wrong, crying, shaky.  I finally was able to fall asleep and actually got a good night's rest.  I felt better and decided I would call the doctor after work if I still didn't feel right.  It was the day before Valentine's Day and Jimmy and I were supposed to go out for a nice dinner since Friday wasn't going to work for us.  I was unusually exhausted after work though and so we decided to hold off on dinner.  That should have been a major clue to me, since most of you know I don't usually pass up a nice meal.  I called the doctor and they said that it didn't sound like an emergency but that they'd like to see me the next day anyway.
     Jimmy and I both took the morning off of work.  We drove separately, thinking we would be going back in the afternoon.  I actually felt good.  Jimmy compliments my tendency to overreact and worry with his calm and reassuring nature.  We actually joked in the waiting room about how we really just came today to find out the gender of our baby.  That appointment wasn't supposed to be for another 2 weeks and we were dying to find out what we were having!  We got called back and immediately went in for a sonogram.  We hadn't seen the baby for almost 9 weeks so we were shocked to see the growth!  We asked the tech if she would be able to tell us the gender and she said it was without a doubt a girl.  I remember apologizing to Jimmy because I was hoping for his sake that it would be a boy.  He was thrilled though and assured me that a girl was okay. :)  We knew her name already and began to call her by name immediately.  Lucy was so strong and healthy.  It was very apparent on the screen that she was fine.  Her development was right on track and she had a good strong heart beat.  The tech told us that she didn't see any reason for bleeding and she let us go.
     As we waited for the nurse to come in, we were almost giddy.  The tech had printed pictures for us and we looked them over and over and talked about Lucy.  I was so relieved to know that she was okay and felt silly for worrying like I had.  This joy however was soon to be bombarded with a fear unlike I had ever known.
     A midwife came in about 10 minutes later.  Her name was Lynette Davis and although I'd never met her before, I liked her instantly.  She was very kind and knowledgeable.  She checked me and said that my cervix did feel softer than normal but she didn't seem overly concerned.  We showed her our pictures and then she pulled up the tech notes on her computer.  She questioned why I didn't get an internal sono.  Although everything looked fine, she said she just didn't feel right about us leaving without me having an internal sono.  So, back to the sono room we went.  I wasn't worried now because I knew everything was fine before and this would just give us another chance to see Lucy. :)  Little did we know though that this would be the start of the most difficult time in our lives.
     The tech put Lucy back up on the screen, but we could barely see her this time.  This was not a check to see Lucy, it was to look at what was causing the problem.  I could see the worry on the tech's face.  I saw her take the mouse and create a line that was a few inches long and save it.  I asked her if everything looked fine, already knowing the answer.  She replied, "No it is not fine."  I panicked instantly, I didn't know what what was going on but I knew it wasn't good.  Jimmy squeezed my hand and reassured me that we would be okay and that I just needed to stay calm.  The tech said that she couldn't tell me anymore and that she needed to get the doctor immediately.  I remember hearing a lot of doctor jargon.  Words and phrases that I now know the meaning of all too well were swarming around the room.  Hourglass membranes, cerclage, trendelenburg, length of cervix, etc.  I'd never had a baby before, but I knew enough to know that being 3cm dilated at 19 weeks, 3 days was not good.  The staff was so kind to us, but I could tell that this was an emergency.  They told me that Jimmy was to take me directly to OSF.  I immediately began to worry:  my insurance didn't cover OSF, I was supposed to go back to school, I was scheduled to work a basketball game that night........I didn't have time for this.
     It was snowing hard outside by now.  Jimmy went out to clear off the car and I called the school to let them know that I wasn't coming back, possibly for quite a while.  I could hardly spit the words out to the secretary.   Angela had texted, fearing that something was wrong because I hadn't called yet.  She was right but I wasn't in the right mind to call her back.  I wanted to talk to my mom.  My mom, like my husband, seems to always be able to keep calm in stressful situations.  I wanted her to tell me that Lucy would be fine, that I would be fine and that everything would be okay.  I was trying to stay calm, but I was dying inside and I needed to hear those words from her.  I told her what was going on and asked her to please call everyone and let them know.  Then Jimmy called his mom to tell her and let his side of the family know.  We were hoping that his parents would come despite the bad weather and they did.  They left that day.
     When we got to the hospital they put me in a wheelchair immediately and took me to the antepartum floor.  My sister-in-law, Candi had recently started working as a nurse on that floor.  I was reassured to know she would be there, but scared because I knew what being on that floor meant.  They made me put a gown on and then said that I was not allowed to get up, even to use the restroom.  Hello bedpan!  Ugh.  They also said that I wasn't allowed to eat, which was a major bummer because I hadn't eaten since 6:30 and my heartburn was getting worse by the second.  But because I was most likely going into surgery, ice chips were the only thing on the menu.  To make matters worse, they had me in trendelenburg position, which is where they make you lie on your back and then tilt the bed down where your head is.  It's basically a method used to torture pregnant women prone to heartburn. :)
     It took a while to be admitted but not too long after a resident doctor came in to check me.  She verified that I was about 2-3 centimeters dilated.  She didn't have very good bedside manner and it hurt when she checked me.  I wasn't impressed.  I took what she said with a grain of salt and waited for the specialist.  Finally around 2:00 he came!  Dr. Michael Leonardi!  He would be our best friend for the next week.  When he came in the door, I shouted across the room, "Are you a doctor?"  He laughed and so did the nurses.  I wasn't trying to be funny.  I was just SOOO happy to finally see a doctor!  He was so incredibly kind.  Before he checked me, he talked to Jimmy and I for a few minutes to get the story directly from us, not just from what he'd read on the chart.  I liked him instantly for this.  He really cared about what we said.  When he checked me he verified that I was dilated, but it was closer to a 4. :/  I could see the concern on his face.  For the next hour or so Jimmy, Dr. Leonardi and I sat and talked about our options, one which was out of the question.  Abortion.  I hate this word and apparently so did the doctor.  He very hesitantly brought it up and didn't even say the actual word.  Jimmy interrupted him and said that would not even be a consideration.  So basically he told us that we could do 1 of 3 things.  1.  I could go home and be on bed rest until I delivered, which would most likely be soon.  (A very low percentage of women make it much further once they're dilated as much as I was.)  2.  I could stay in the hospital on bed rest until I delivered, which again would most likely be soon.  3.  He could put a rescue cerclage in, which means he would go in and put the amniotic sac back where it's supposed to be and stitch up my cervix.
     It seemed like a no brainer to us and so we asked what the risks were to having the cerclage.  He basically told us that rescue cerclages don't always work.  He said that he doesn't do them when someone's dilated past 5 cm, which meant that it would be close.  There was of course risk of infection and my water breaking since it had already started to come through and it's not meant to be tampered with.  We were pretty sure that was the choice we would make and our decision was finalized when he said if it were his wife that is what he would do.  He scheduled the surgery for the next afternoon.  Before he left I asked him if I could please eat something.  He looked dumbfounded and couldn't believe they didn't let me eat.  He ordered the nurse in the nicest way possible to "get this woman something to eat!"  :)  This began our week long saga of talking about foods and restaurants we like- this is another reason we liked Dr. L. so much. :)
     After we met with the doctor, they took me to my permanent room.  The plan was to be there until I delivered.  It sounds crazy, but we were hoping to be there for 16 weeks.  This would be considered full term for someone with a cerclage.  We already had family and friends planning trips to come stay with me since I was going to be there so long.  Jimmy's parents were on their way and we were being bombarded with texts and calls.  By this time I had eaten a little and actually felt pretty good.  Jimmy prayed with me and put a bible verse up on the board for me to look at whenever I got scared.  I didn't sleep well that night and neither did Jimmy.  I wasn't allowed to sit up at all and so it was hard to switch sides on my own and prop myself up with the pillows.  I woke Jimmy up about a million times and not once did he complain.  That next morning I went in for the cerclage about 12.  They gave me a spinal block so I was awake and aware of what was going on the whole time.  Normally that would not be good for me, especially because they wouldn't let Jimmy in with me.  However, the anesthesiologist and other staff were great.  They even told jokes the whole time.  I could tell they'd done this a million times.  They worked like pros and even Dr. L. was telling a joke as he was  working.  Weird, but distracting and being distracted is what I needed.  I knew that there was a chance that he wouldn't be able to perform the cerclage and I was praying that would not be the case.  When the doctor finished, he was sweating so I could tell it wasn't easy.  But Praise the Lord he was able to do it!  They took me to a recovery room, let Jimmy in and then Dr. L. came back to check on Lucy.  His exact words were, "She looks awesome!"  Music to a mother and father's ears!!!  She did look awesome.  I'd never had a sono. done by a specialist before and I soon found out why he gets paid the big bucks.  He showed us great profiles of Lucy, took individual pictures of her feet and hands and he even showed us her brain!  It looked like she was waving at us.  When I came out of recovery, my sister was there and that made me cry.  I didn't expect her to come since she lives a few hours away and I knew she'd have to go back that night.  Aside from other family members, some people from my impact group had come and one of our pastors.  Unbelievable.
     The next 72 hours were crucial.  The main concern is that my water wouldn't break, but unfortunately that happened Tuesday night.  I was devastated when the doctor confirmed that it was in fact amniotic fluid.  I thought it was over.  My hope of Lucy surviving was shattered.  A baby born under 24 weeks is not considered viable.  I needed to make it to then at least.  Even still, Lucy's chances of survival were slim.  Dr. Leonardi looked at me and said, "I'm not giving up on Lucy, are you?"  With a confused look on my face, I said, "No!"  Then the hope came back.  I didn't realize that you can still carry a baby with no water.  It is much more risky, but possible.  On the bright side, this meant that there wasn't as much pressure on Lucy now and I could sit up a little.  After 5 days of being in trendelenberg, sitting up was like a gift!
     Since Jimmy and I had both been up all night Tuesday, we asked for no visitors.  We needed to rest and just spend some time alone and with our family.  I spent a lot of time reading, praying and reading scripture that various people had given me.  My in-laws, mom, Jimmy and I sat together and read from a devotional his mom had brought.  We prayed, read verses and just talked for quite a while.  I had never been so scared in my life and was amazed at the peace God had given me during that moment.  That was one of the first times that I realized that God's plan was unfolding and no matter what that meant, I needed to choose to trust.  My other choice was fear and there wasn't room for that.
     That night I started having a little cramping but it was hardly noticeable.  I was hoping it was just an upset stomach.  By Thursday afternoon it was starting to increase and by that night I knew that something was wrong.  Jimmy's mom had stayed with me that night, which I was glad for.  Both of our moms had agreed to stay a night so Jimmy could get some rest.  He was right in the middle of getting licensed for a new position at work and he had a huge test Thursday that he had hardly studied for.  I remember trying not to make too big of a deal about the pain I was having because I didn't want Jimmy to worry during his test.  When he called me to tell me he passed, we were all so thrilled!  I tried to downplay the pain I was having, praying that it would just go away.  It didn't.  Thursday night it kept increasing through the night and by the time I woke up Friday morning I asked for some pain medication.  This began the longest day of my life.
     Jimmy had gone to work Friday morning because he hadn't gone the whole week.  I told the nurses of my concern about the pain and they gave me some Tylenol.  That didn't begin to touch the pain though.  I was trying to stay calm, but the worse the cramping got, the more nervous I got.  Jimmy came to the hospital on his lunch break and by then I was really hurting.  Naturally the nurses thought I was contracting, but they weren't showing up on the monitor so they dismissed it.  My pain was at a 10 though so I knew if they weren't contractions, then something was seriously wrong.  As the afternoon hours passed, I turned into a bit of a monster.  I remember yelling at the nurses that I couldn't stand the pain and that I needed something.  They weren't able to get a hold of the doctor and so they couldn't give me anything but Tylenol.  I sent Jimmy to the nurse's station several times to tell that my pain was 10+++++....  The head nurse finally came in and saw my agony and said she was going to walk around and get the first doctor she saw.  Thankfully she found a doctor who was able to prescribe me some stronger pain meds that would ease the pain until doctor L. came.  She was super nice and commented that she was reading the same book that I had on my table.  In turn, I snapped at her.  I like to think that I was an easy patient to get a long with, so I'm hoping the nurses and that doctor forgive me for the way I treated them that day.  The medicine did ease the pain a bit.  Although it was incredibly obvious to everyone that I was contracting, I was still holding on to hope.  The pain then moved into my back and although it wasn't as painful as earlier, I was getting tired.  I just wanted to see the doctor but he wasn't able to come until around 5:00.  He tried to lighten the mood a little but he could see my distress.  And when he checked me, he confirmed our biggest fear.  Not only did I have an infection but Lucy had started pushing her way through.  He looked at us and said, "This means that Lucy has to be born today and I need you to understand that she will not make it."  He talked to us a little while longer and then said he'd give us some time alone while he prepared for her delivery.  Jimmy and I held each other and wept for our sweet Lucy.  We spent some time crying and talking and then let our moms back in.  Then began the dreaded phone calls, texts, etc.
     By the time they had me prepped for delivery, my brother and sister-in-law, 2 pastors, my friend Patty, and my dad all came.  Meanwhile my sister Angela and her husband were driving like the wind to make it in time.  My sister Amy was making arrangements for her 5 kiddos and packing like mad to begin the 14 hour journey the next day and Jimmy's sister Katie was getting her plane ticket to fly in.  I knew those who weren't able to make it were praying.  I could feel it.  It is a strange and neat feeling to be held up in prayer like that.  Jimmy and I decided that considering the circumstances, we didn't want anyone in the room while I delivered Lucy, so our family waited together.
     I was scared and nervous, which made my heart rate way too high.  They kept telling me that I needed to relax, but it was so hard.  Not only was my heart breaking for my baby girl, but I was not prepared to have a baby.  I didn't know what to expect and I didn't think I could do it.  The staff that prepped me were fantastic!  They made me feel so comfortable and worked like pros.  They assured me that everything would go smoothly and that it wouldn't take longer than a few hours total.  Because Lucy was so small and already coming on her own, they didn't think I needed Pitocin, but then my OB gave it to me anyway.  I was thankful for that.  This would speed the process up even more.  It took a while to get everything ready.  I remember watching them work, just like they would be if I was having a normal delivery.  It broke my heart to see the little table where they would lay Lucy, knowing that it may be a lifeless body.  Her heart rate had gone up to almost 200 and I knew there wasn't much time.  I prayed that she would be alive when she was born.  Not too long after my epideral was given, my OB checked me and said that she thought I was ready.  This was only the second time I had met Dr. Stalling.  She was so calm and compassionate.  I could see her hurting for me.  Then in the corner I saw Dr. Leonardi sitting on a step stool, tears in his eyes.  I could see the disappointment in his eyes.  He tried so hard to save Lucy, but God had a different plan.  At this point I wasn't really scared anymore.  I knew what I had to do and I knew the sooner I delivered, the better the chance Lucy would still be alive.  I actually got a little excited because my only option was to have Lucy then and I was ready to meet her.  I only had to push for a half hour or so before she was out.  Up until that point I was calm and focused on doing what I was told as far as positioning and pushing went.  But then when Lucy finally came out, I burst into tears.  Jimmy cut the cord as all fathers do and I listened for a cry, a whimper, anything, but all I heard was silence.  The doctor asked me if I wanted to hold her right away but I was so upset that I couldn't even think straight.  I told them that I didn't want to remember her looking sickly and asked them to please clean her up while I collected myself. They were so kind and did as I had asked.  They wrapped her up in a yellow and white blanket and put a purple had on her head.  While I was in labor a nurse had sewn a yellow flower on the hat just for Lucy.  I remember thinking the hat looked so small but then when we put in on Lucy, it nearly covered her whole head!  Jimmy let me hold her first and my first thought was, "How Beautiful!"  She was so precious.  Her little face was so well defined and her tiny fingers and toes were so stinkin' cute!  We could see her heart beating, which was a huge blessing to us and she wrapped her little hand around our finger.  When Jimmy touched her she moved a little.  I knew that she was too small for the doctors to save her, but at the same time I couldn't help but think that God is bigger than that.  I prayed for God to save our Lucy.  The doctor kept checking her heart, waiting for the time of death, but it kept beating.  I held on to every single beat, not wanting any one to be the last.  I watched Jimmy as he held our little girl.  What a sweet picture that I will always carry in my mind.  He loved her and it was so evident.  He talked to her and kissed her tiny face.  I felt so out of control of the situation.  I hated that there was nothing that I or anyone else could do for her.  All I could do was keep her warm in that blanket until she passed.
     A nurse came in to take pictures of Lucy.  She brought all kinds of cute clothes and props.  I was pleasantly surprised.  She treated Lucy like any other full term baby and was so gentle with her.  Our family and friends that were there came in to meet Lucy.  We spent about 2 hours talking to her and holding her.  There was such a sadness in the room, a heaviness that I can't quite explain.  But again I felt a peace that passes understanding too.  I knew that I wasn't going to leave there with my baby, but that she would be safe in the arms of our Heavenly Father.  This was a huge comfort to me.
     After we said our good byes, I almost felt guilty for how I felt.  They immediately put me on antibiotics for the infection and of course the stomach and back pain was gone.  For the first time in a week I was hungry and ordered something to eat.  Some of our family was still there for a bit and then left shortly after we got back to the room.  I was exhausted from the events of the day and Jimmy and I went to bed soon after we ate.  The nurses were in and out of the room every hour but I hardly noticed.  I slept so soundly that night and it felt so good.  There were several people up all night praying for rest for me and God answered those prayers with a huge YES!  I was so thankful for peace that night, for rest and no bad dreams.  I knew it was going to be a long road ahead and I needed rest!
     The next day was spent making arrangements for Lucy's service.  I was so glad to be able to shower and walk around a bit.  Several people came to visit and some friends brought us lunch.  I was a little sore but I wasn't in any pain, praise the Lord!  It was like He just decided that I had been through enough.  I was sore from being in back labor for so many hours the day before but it wasn't anything a little ibuprofen couldn't handle.  They kept me all day Saturday to make sure that my infection went away and released me Sunday afternoon. 
      I was in the hospital for 10 days total and a lot of it is like a blur to me now.  Some things I remember like they were yesterday and others I just don't remember.  I try not to recap my time there very often but sometimes a memory sneaks up and stings me.  This is by far the hardest part of the healing process.  Just when I think I'm doing well, something triggers a memory and my heart sinks.  Sometimes it happens when I'm alone and other times I'm in a crowded room where bursting into tears would be a little strange to those around me.  These are the times that I'm especially thankful that God gave me Jimmy because he has been more patient with me than I could've ever imagined.
     One of the things I'm most thankful for is that I went to the doctor when I did.  If I hadn't gone in that day, I probably would've delivered within a day or so and I may not have made it to the hospital.  Getting to the hospital gave me one more week with Lucy that I will forever be grateful for.  I got to see her almost every day and she was lively and healthy.  I got to hear her heartbeat every morning and evening.  God knew I needed that.  
      We were and still are amazed at how God used various people to pull us through.  At the hospital my board was filled with cards and my shelf with flowers.  So many people visited, brought us gifts, called, messaged and texted.  The support shown to us was absolutely amazing!!!   To this day I continue to be amazed at how good God has been to us.  Despite the statistics, Jimmy and I are probably closer than we've ever been.  Our family and friends have shown us the love of Christ almost daily.  We still get various messages here and there telling us that we are being prayed for. We are doing okay, but I assure you that we still need those prayers and bits of encouragement.  The healing process is strange and hard and confusing and hurtful and timely and toys with my emotions daily.  I think about Lucy EVERY SINGLE DAY and I don't think that will ever change.  I am hopeful though that the more happy memories will outweigh the sad as time moves on. 
  
 

The sun'll come out tomorrow....

Tomorrow.  It is only a day away now.  I don't usually plan for bad days.  I don't think anyone really does.  However, I've been "planning" on tomorrow being the worst day of my life for several weeks now.  I know that sounds bad.  I know it's very negative to say.  I know all those things, but there's not much positive that  comes to mind when I think about burying my daughter....my sweet Lucy.  OSF offers a burial service for all babies born before 23 weeks, which we are very thankful for.  I just wish it would've been sooner.  I've always thought that watching the burial was the worst part of people dying and judging by the tears streaming down my face right now and the knot in my stomach, I know that is still true for me.  And to top things off, it is supposed to be a super gloomy, rainy day tomorrow.  As I was laying awake in bed tonight, I prayed for sunshine tomorrow even though I know the chances of that are slim.  According to the weather there's only a 10% chance that it will not rain.  But I know that God still heard my prayer and maybe he will answer it with a ray of sunlight during the service, or maybe even a rainbow.  That would definitely be a bright spot in my day.
Even though Lucy has been gone now for over 2 months, people are still asking what they can do for us.  I almost always respond to them by asking for prayer.  Although the good moments seem to outweigh the hard moments as time goes by, there is still such a huge heaviness in my heart.  It's a feeling unlike any other and one that maybe only someone who's experienced loss can understand.  I understand it all too well.  Fortunately, I've gained another unexplainable understanding through all of this.  While the feeling of brokenness is sometimes overwhelming, I also have an overwhelming peace.  The peace that only comes from my God.  Several songs have encouraged me the past few days.  One of them was from Jeremy Camp's song, I Still Believe, where he says, "In brokenness I can see that this is your will for me..."  I've had nowhere else to look but up for the last few months and it's amazing how clearly you can see through the hurt.  It doesn't mean that I don't hurt, it means that there's hope in the hurt, "sun" if you will.  So, here's where you come in friends:  please be our bright spot in the hurt tomorrow.  Lift Jimmy and I and our family up in prayer whenever you think of us.  Share encouraging verses with us, funny memories that always bring smiles to our faces, talk to us about our beautiful daughter, send us a text about something unrelated, pm us on facebook, post a picture to our wall, etc.  That's what you can do for us for now.  Bet your bottom dollar there will be sun! :) 

A first time for everything...

     There are several phases of grieving.  I've felt most of them and have probably even made up some of my own.  It's such a strange bunch of emotions that I seem to have very little control over.  Control.  Now there is something I like to have and never have I felt so out of it.  Apparently one of the things you have difficulty with when you grieve the loss of your baby is being around pregnant women or babies.  This is "normal" they say.  But I can certainly tell you that it's not normal for me to not want to be around babies!  Nor is it even practical.  They're everywhere in my life from friends at work and church to my large family.  I have 17 nieces and nephews whom I adore and 3 of them are 1 and under.  Never in the past 17 years had I not wanted to be around them.  I wish I could say that's still true, but there's a first time for everything. :/   
     Mornings are difficult for me.  They are when I remember that Lucy is no longer here.  It's a hard pill to swallow, especially after bad dreams.  One morning a few weeks ago was particularly difficult.  Jimmy ended up going  into work late to stay with me longer.  He knew I'd be by myself that day and was trying to arrange for me to meet my sister for lunch.  I hesitated, not because I didn't want to see my sister, but because I knew Eden would be with her.  Eden is my very sweet 1 y.o. niece who I love very much!  The last time we had met in Champaign for lunch was to register at Toys R Us for Lucy.  The next time I met my sister was supposed to be different.  I was supposed to have a baby too and naturally she would've been Eden's best friend.  Eden would've hugged and kissed Lucy and poked her in the eyes.  I didn't want to see Eden that day because I knew it would remind me of what I'll never have with Lucy.  Of all the feelings that I've ever felt in my life, this was by far the worst.  Later that night we met with our Impact Group.  One of my friends just recently had a baby and everyone was ooooing and ahhhing over him as anyone would do if they saw him.  He's adorable!  All I could think about though was how that was supposed to be my baby in a few short months.  My friends would've ooohed and ahhhhed over Lucy.  They would've held her and commented on what a pretty purple flower she had in her hair.  The reality that sinks in though is not just that they won't hold her, but that I never will again either.  This is what really stings.  It wasn't supposed to happen to us.  Books on grieving weren't supposed to be on my shelf.  I wasn't supposed to be one of the people our Pastor preached about 'going through a tough time.'  Looking at others with their babies wasn't supposed to hurt so badly.  Before losing Lucy I had pictured myself rocking her to sleep, holding her hand as she learned to walk, putting piggy tails and extremely large bows in her hair.  I wanted to take her into the bank to see Jimmy and dress her up for church on Sundays.  Selfishly I want her here with me, with her Mommy and Daddy, where I feel like she belongs, even though I know she's safe in the arms of Jesus- no better place to be!  So, that is where I go with my mind when those feelings overtake me.  I don't know what Lucy's doing up in heaven right now but I like to think about it.  My niece, Addison, and nephew, Grant, like to pray for her to have fun playing in heaven. They're probably right.  She probably is playing.  I like to picture her on a swing set. I can see her swinging as high as she can and then jumping off just for the thrill of it because she knows she will be safe.  I like to think that she has met her other cousins who were already there and that she's playing with them too.
     Of all of the phases of grieving, I'm very thankful that this one doesn't tend to stick around.  I did meet my sister that day and had a fun time.  I gave Eden a cookie before she finished her lunch and bought her a couple things that she wanted at the store when she cried because that's what Aunties do.  I thanked God for her and for all of my other nieces and nephews that day because being an aunt is where I am right now.  And as badly as I want to mother my own child, I don't ever want to regret time spent with the kiddos I have in my life right now.  They bring me such great joy and I couldn't be more thankful that my brothers and sisters have allowed me to play such an active role in their lives.  

I guess I’m blogging.....

     I used to write a lot when I was younger and have been encouraged by several people to write my thoughts down.  I’m not really sure yet what purpose this will serve.  I don’t even know how often I will write.  This may be the first of many blogs or maybe even the only blog.  I’m hoping for me that it will be healing.  For those who have experienced what I have, I hope it will be of some sort of comfort.  For others who are afraid to ask questions, but want to know more, I hope this answers those questions.  I’m not promising fantastic literature here and it will be in no certain order.  Lots of different things, memories, pop into my head at such random times that I would imagine it will just be little tidbits here and there.  So if you’re still reading, Welcome into my random mind! :) I’ve had several people mention that it’s hard to know what to say and whether or not it’s okay to ask questions.  I guess my answer to that is to ask at your own risk.  Will I answer your questions and talk with you about Lucy with a smile on my face?  Most of the time.  Will you be able to see the hurt in my eyes?  Possibly.  Will I break down and cry in your midst.  Maybe.  So it’s okay with me, if you’re willing to accept the consequences with me. :)  Just know that although this is by far the most difficult thing Jimmy and I have ever gone through, that we are okay.  We feel like we are on a roller coaster, backwards, a lot of the time, but we are holding on! :)  God has never left our side and has been faithful beyond measure! 

With all that said, here is my first entry….. 

     Today as I was going through some of Lucy’s things, I came across a book her Aunt Angela had brought to her at the hospital.  It’s called I Love You, Stinky Face.  If you’ve never read it, you should go buy it immediately!  I’m not sure why I didn’t own this book before.  It’s by far one of my favorite children’s books and I’ve bought it for several others.  At the beginning of the book a mother says to her son, “I love you my wonderful child.” Throughout the rest of the story he proceeds to ask his mom a series of ‘what if’ questions.  For example he says,

“But, Mama, but, Mama, what if I were a super smelly skunk, and I smelled so bad that my name was Stinky Face?” 

His mom replies by saying, “Then I’d plunk you in a bubble bath!  But if you still smelled stinky, I wouldn’t mind.  I’d whisper in your ear, ‘I love you, Stinky Face.” 

(As I write this, I’m sure I’m breaking some kind of copyright laws.  Do I need to list a citations part at the end and do you underline or put quotes around a book title?  This is the teacher in me coming out a little.)  Sorry, back to the story….  Anyway, as I read the book I felt a little guilty for something that happened before Lucy was born.  We were at our 10 week appointment, which went very well.  We saw Lucy bouncing all around on the screen and heard her strong heart beat.  We laughed at her Casper the Friendly Ghost-like appearance.  Her arms and legs were so tiny that you couldn’t even see them.  As I looked at those pictures later I thought to myself, “What if our baby has no arms and legs?”  That was in the back of my mind for the next several weeks.  It wasn’t something I dwelled on, but it was certainly a fear I had.  At our next appointment we found out our baby was a Lucy!  We were thrilled because for about 20 minutes we thought all was well.  She looked perfect AND she had arms and legs!  The events that unfolded after that will have to be told another day. 

Looking back now I think to myself, “What a selfish and stupid fear to have.”  Who cares if Lucy had no arms or legs or had any other type of disability or deformity for that matter?  None of that would have mattered if I could have had Lucy longer.  I would have loved her the best I could and cared for her every need, just like in the book!  I would have never even hesitated.  That’s what mommy’s do and although I only experienced the responsibility of being a mom for a short time, it went a little like this:       

But, Mama, but, Mama, what if I were born so tiny that you could only have me for a short time? 

Then I would wrap you in a soft, cuddly blanket to keep you warm.  I would dress you up and put a cute purple hat on your tiny little head.  I would tell people how perfect you were and how proud I was to be your mama.  I would hold you close to me and kiss your cheek.  I would thank God for each time your heart beat and I would whisper in your ear, ‘I love you my wonderful child!’